Craving Her Soldier's Touch. Wendy S. Marcus
their own, with him capable of little more than telephone and financial support.
He needed to get out there, to become more of a presence in their lives. It’s what’d kept him from giving up during endless setbacks and complications, during hours of excruciating treatments and therapies.
An image of The Kid’s baby daughter flashed.
Which reminded him. Jaci wasn’t the only one with a reason to be angry. “So if you didn’t come up for sex,” he pushed off the sofa and stood, fighting a wince when pain shot down his leg. “Why are you here? Finally getting around to congratulating me on the birth of my baby?”
Jaci’s jaw dropped open but no sound came out. No apology or explanation. She stood totally still, staring up at him, with a look of absolute shock on her face. “You—” She cleared her throat. “Who? When?”
Nice try. “Cut the crap, Jaci.”
“You bastard.” In a move that caught him, a decorated staff sergeant in the U.S. Army, completely off guard, she lunged forward and slapped his cheek.
What the …? He grabbed her hand.
“Who is she? A fellow soldier? While I was here wasting my time worrying about you, even after all the crap you pulled, you were sleeping around with another woman?” She sucked in a breath. “Or were you seeing her in the months before you left? While I was at work?”
The woman made no sense.
She fought him. “Let go of me.”
This time he was ready and caught her up in a bear hold with no intention of releasing her until he figured out what the heck was going on. “I heard the baby. Last night. When I walked you to your door.”
“The twins?” she asked.
Lord help him. Twins. He hadn’t thought of that. Two of everything at the same time. Visits to the doctor. Boyfriends. Cars. College educations. The cartilage in his knees turned to pudding. And while he concentrated on remaining upright, on the verge of disgracing himself by collapsing to the floor, Jaci jammed the heel of her rubber boot on the top of his bare foot, escaped his weakened grip and started to chuckle.
“You thought—?” She laughed so hard she couldn’t finish. “You thought—?” She doubled over, stumbled to the couch and plopped down. After about a minute of trying to regain her composure, Jaci inhaled a deep breath, pushed it out and asked. “You thought I had your baby?”
She made it sound like such a ridiculous assumption he decided not to answer.
Then all humor fled, and like she suddenly realized she’d been insulted, she got mad. “You honestly thought I wouldn’t tell you if I’d gotten pregnant? That I wouldn’t include you in the birth of our child or introduce you to your son or daughter at the first opportunity?”
Obviously he hadn’t done a thorough job of thinking things through because Jaci was straightforward and not at all the type of woman to lie about a pregnancy.
“The babies you heard,” she stood, “are my nieces. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention them to anyone because Jena doesn’t want people to know she’s back in town until this weekend.”
“What’s this weekend?”
“The second annual benefit gala for the Women’s Crisis Center.”
“Is that the ritzy shindig Justin’s running security for on Saturday night?” Her brother was an outspoken supporter of the crisis center. Hmmmm … The perfect opportunity for a little man to poor-excuse-for-a-brother chat and to take care of the asses who’d been giving Jaci a hard time.
Jaci nodded. “This year we’re having a silent auction coordinated by Millicent Parks with items worth tens of thousands of dollars.”
“So if you didn’t come up here to welcome me home,” he said, “or tell me about the babies, why are you here?” And while he was asking the questions, “And how did you get in?”
“I knocked. When you didn’t answer I,” she held up a key, “used this.” At Ian’s grimace she added, “I have a key to Justin’s condo and he has a key to mine. For emergencies.”
“So what’s your emergency?” he asked.
“The storm uprooted that massive oak by the parking lot which is now resting on top of nine cars, one of them the vehicle I was supposed to drive back to the crisis center this morning to pick up my car which, as it turns out, is sitting in two feet of water in their parking lot thanks to the Bronx River spilling over its banks at some point in the night. Streets are flooded, trees and power lines are down all over the county and there’s a state of emergency in effect so taxis aren’t running. I came up to ask Justin for a ride to work.”
“Do you hear yourself? There’s a state of emergency. The roads aren’t safe. Yet here you are ready to forgo the warnings so you can traipse around town.”
“For the record, I never traipse. And please spare me the lecture. I have two patients I must see as soon as possible, others depending on me for treatments due today, and some I’d like to check on to see how they made it through the storm.” She turned toward the hallway leading to Justin’s bedroom.
“He’s not here,” Ian said. “Mandatory overtime because of the weather.” Which gave Ian the perfect opportunity to play hero. “Give me a minute to get changed, and I’ll drive you wherever you need to go.”
“I don’t need you to—”
“Yes you do, sweetheart.”
Luckily, Jaci’s cellphone rang because she looked to be gearing up for one major league verbal smack down. She checked the number and answered. “Hi, Mrs. Lewis. Yes. Don’t worry. I said I’d be there and I will.” She listened. “If I have to walk a little that’s no problem. Uh huh. See you soon.”
She ended the call and looked up at Ian. “What are you waiting for? I need to get on the road. Meet me in the parking lot.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ian hurried to his room, for the first time in months meeting a new day with a sense of eager anticipation.
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