Daddy in the Making

chapter Ten

The next day, Rita called her brother and sister to see if they were free to talk. There was no more putting it off, just as there was no more delaying the conversation Rita would need to have with Kristy.

It was time for Rita to make sure she did right by everyone, just as much as she was expecting Conn to do.

She took the afternoon off and drove Kristy over to the Crescent N Ranch, which Rita’s bachelor uncle Rob had once owned and left to his nieces and nephew after he’d died. Rita, who’d never been much of a cowgirl, had opted for running the hotel while Kim and Nick had split duties on the ranch.

“We get to see the new horsey,” Kristy said from her car seat in the back when they were about halfway to their destination.

“I’m sure Aunt Kim and Uncle Nick would love to show him to you.”

“What’s his name?”

Names again. Rita was still getting over Kristy’s idea of naming the baby after The Little Mermaid. “You’ll have to ask your aunt and uncle about that.”

Rita kept driving, attempting to calm her nerves. She never looked forward to serious talks with her siblings, mostly because she didn’t like to be questioned about her choices, and they were never shy about that.

As if it were a perfectly natural extension of the chat they had just been having, Kristy asked, “Is Conn going to be my daddy?”

Rita almost jumped out of her seat.

It looked as if this conversation wasn’t going to wait until after she had finished the one with Nick and Kim.

She pulled over to the dirt shoulder of the country road, near an unhinged mailbox that had seen better days. Then she turned off the engine and peered around her seat so she could look at Kristy.

But what would she tell her daughter?

She decided to be as honest as she could. “Kristy, Conn is the daddy of the new baby, so he’s going to be a really important part of our lives.”

That was a start, but Rita didn’t want to raise Kristy’s hopes by saying he would be her father, too. She wouldn’t speak for Conn, although there had been a growing hope, every time he interacted with her daughter, that Conn was the one man she could trust with hers, Kristy’s and the baby’s hearts.

But that was all it was right now—hope. Not a guarantee.

“I like Conn,” Kristy said.

“I can see you do. He likes you an awful lot, as well.”

“But he’s not going to be my daddy?”

Why did Kristy have to be so darn dogged? “Sweetheart, I can’t tell you what’s going to happen in the future. I really wish I could. But I can tell you that I like Conn a lot, too.”

Like? That seemed such a tame word for what she had come to feel for him.

Could it actually have turned into...love?

The notion made her pulse fly around in her chest, not knowing where to land.

Kristy got a goofy expression on her face. “You like him, Mommy?”

“Yes, Kristy.” Rita could feel herself blushing. She couldn’t believe that a four-year-old was razzing her. “I know you’ve never had to go through this before since I haven’t brought a man into our lives. But I’m proud of the way you’re handling it. It’s made everything a little...different, hasn’t it?”

Kristy seemed confused. Great.

“What I mean,” Rita said, still avoiding those empty promises, “is that life isn’t the same now with another person around so often. But you make Conn feel that he’s welcome in our company. He appreciates that very much.”

Kristy was fidgeting with the hem of her peach jersey shirt. “Lots of kids at school have daddies.”

“And you want one, too. I know.”

Rita rested her hand on Kristy’s knee. She would do anything for her daughter, and she was just sorry that she couldn’t have made Kristy’s life easier than this.

But who was this harder for—Kristy or herself?

Kristy angled her head and gave Rita a sweet smile, as if her mom were her entire world and she could never do anything wrong.

“Just remember,” Rita said, touched, “there are so many people who already love you, and that’s never going to change.”

“People like you.”

“Just like me. And if you ever have any more questions about Conn, or anything else for that matter, I don’t want you to be afraid to ask. I’ll always do my best to answer. Do you understand that?”

Kristy nodded.

Rita squeezed her knee. “That’s my girl.”

When she faced the steering wheel again, she had to take a moment.

That hadn’t been so rough, had it? In fact, Rita felt a thousand times better.

Now it was time to see if her sister and brother were as sympathetic as Kristy.

After restarting the car and getting back on the road, they soon turned off into a graveled drive that led up to the Crescent N’s main office.

Rita brought Kristy inside the brick building with gingerbread trim. The entry boasted an overstuffed couch with embroidered pillows, and Kristy hopped onto it as Rita called for her siblings.

From the back hallway came the sound of thumping boots on floorboards. Nick appeared, hatless and grizzled, followed by Kim, who looked as fresh as a sunny day. Kristy ran to them, saying hi.

Afterward, Nick jerked his chin toward the back of the building and said to Rita, “Tilly’s in the lounge with some lunch for Kristy.”

Time for that talk.

Kim held out her hand for her niece. “She’s got peanut butter and jelly sandwiches without the crust, just how you like them.”

With a backward wave to Rita, Kristy went with Kim to see the ranch’s secretary as Nick walked into his office, which overlooked the stables in the distance. The room was utilitarian, just like Nick himself, complete with leather-upholstered furniture and a rugged oak desk that had belonged to Uncle Rob.

Rita chose a seat on the couch while Nick took to his desk chair. A few seconds later, Kim came in, shutting the door behind her.

“So you two want the skinny on what’s going on with me,” Rita said.

Nick had his arms crossed over his barrel chest as he reclined. “It’d be a refreshing change from being left in the dark.”

Kim intervened. “I’m sure this isn’t easy for Rita.”

“It isn’t.” Rita rested her hand on a pillow, resisting the temptation to pull it on her lap and use it as a shield. “I’ve been overanalyzing everything to the point where I didn’t know what was what. That’s why I didn’t want to talk to you. But...I’m ready now.”

Hearing the words out loud jarred her.

Ready.

Ready for what exactly?

A burning outline traced the shape of her heart in her chest, telling her just what she truly might be ready for.

Conn, the surprise suitor who had gone more than the extra mile for her and the baby, and also for Kristy. It was as if Rita had gotten to know a new man these past couple of weeks, and she could barely match him up with the one-night stand who’d temporarily disappeared from her life.

Rita lifted her chin as she admitted everything to her siblings—and to herself. “I think I’m finally ready to move on with this man.”

* * *

Conn was just wrapping up a few business calls with ranch vendors in his hotel room, making up for the time he’d lost because of the amnesia. Weirdly, he’d been able to get back into the swing of the physical ranch work, as if muscle memory had remained, but he hadn’t remembered his business contacts and had been reacquainting himself with them during his recovery. He heard a knock on his door, but hadn’t been expecting anyone. That didn’t mean he couldn’t hope it was the one person he was always longing to see, though.

When he found her at his doorstep, it felt as if his chest was being crushed—but in a good way.

Rita. And, as usual, she left him breathless, dizzy, nearly pushed to his knees for the wanting of her.

Maybe it was the way her cheeks were flushed, as if it was just as earth-moving for her to see him. Or maybe it was her hair, which was finally down from that barrette she usually wore, curling over her shoulders.

Just like on that memory-fogged first night with her.

He got a hold of himself, opening the door wider for her to come in. “Didn’t expect to see you this early in the afternoon.”

“I had some things to take care of and I finished before I thought I would,” she said as she moved past him, leaving a trail of berries-and-vanilla scent. She smiled. “And they are taken care of.”

“Are you gonna tell me what you’re talking about?” It was as if she had accomplished something she was intending to keep only to herself.

She leaned back against the wall. A few curls spread against the burgundy and deep pink velvet wallpaper.

“I had that talk with Kim and Nick,” she said.

He almost asked, “What talk?” but he knew better.

“Did I get their stamp of approval?” he asked.

“Yeah. They’re not ecstatic about the way we met, but they’re my brother and sister, and I wouldn’t expect them to be any less protective. They’re going to stand by us, even if Nick grumbles about it every so often.”

“Just so long as he doesn’t bring out the shotgun and hunt me down. I got the impression he might be the type.”

Rita raised her hands in a small shrug. “They were just angry that I didn’t tell them about you sooner. They were hurt because they wanted to be privy to the situation. And, of course, they’re worried that you’re going to break my heart like...”

“Like Kevin did.”

She expelled a soft breath, and when she looked up at him, her gaze was vulnerable. “I want so badly to let go of Kevin. I’ve been trying to do it for years, but I’m starting to realize how useless it is to go on just trying while not actually getting to the point where I’ve healed.”

What had changed her? Was it too much to hope that it was him?

Her eyes seemed to tell him that he was the reason, and his blood surged.

“I had a talk with Kristy, too,” she said. “She asked if you’re going to be her daddy.”

“Ah.”

But, now that he really thought about it, why was that a surprise? Hadn’t it been in the back of his mind since he’d returned here?

Hadn’t it seemed so possible for the new Conn?

“I told her,” Rita said, “that I couldn’t make any promises for you. And I don’t want to push you on this, Conn, but you should know what she’s thinking.”

“I was thinking that the baby and Kristy were a package deal.” He touched one of her curls. Soft, silky. Damn, he could barely hold himself back because being around her, courting her, had been torture.

“Really?” she asked, her voice thick.

“Really.” He traced a knuckle over her cheek. “Where is Kristy? I’ll tell her that right now.”

“She’s with Kim and Nick. She likes to spend time at the ranch some weekends. You know how it is with girls and horses.”

He trailed his fingers over her jawline, and Rita closed her eyes, biting her lip.

“When I said a package deal,” he said, his tone gritty, “I was including you in that, too. I want more than a visitation agreement with the baby.”

A slant of light seemed to rotate in the room. Or maybe that was just an optical illusion because, somewhere inside, he felt that his world had just been turned on its axis.

Or, at least, old Conn’s world.

She opened her eyes. “I keep telling myself that this shouldn’t scare me.”

“What, being happy?” He laughed softly. “You just finished telling me that you want to leave Kevin behind.”

“I do. But being scared... It started to become such a part of me after what he did. And I always wanted everyone to think that I could deal with anything that came my way. That included you, Conn. I wanted to be strong, and I didn’t want to put my heart out there for you to destroy. The same goes for Kristy and the baby.”

“Don’t be afraid, Rita. Not of me.”

But maybe of the memories that might come back and change his whole point of view?

The thought was like a missile that had come racing out of the depth of his subconscious, where it had probably been firing up, ready to go at the slightest provocation.

He couldn’t stand the notion of living the rest of his life like this, though, always on standby, always waiting for something to destroy the happiness he had found.

Like Rita, it was time for Conn to move forward—definitely, never looking behind.

She reached out to him, touching a button on his shirt. She was apparently still deciding to once and for all cross a line she’d drawn between them, a slash in the ground that looked so much like the wound that her ex-fiancé had gouged into her soul.

Then, something clicked in her gaze, a decision, and her gaze went glassy with oncoming tears.

Of happiness? Of sadness again?

“We’re having a girl, Conn,” she said.

He couldn’t move for the longest second. Then, he finally asked, “A girl?”

“Yeah.” She laughed, as if she still wasn’t sure how he was going to take this.

But a jumble of girly names was already crowding his mind. Clarissa—that was his mom’s name; maybe they could name their daughter after her? Or...what was Rita’s mom’s name? He thought that Abigail was a real nice one, too...

“A girl,” he said softly, his heart melting.

He leaned forward to press a kiss to Rita’s temple, to gather her into his arms as she sighed in what sounded like relief and, yes, happiness. As he buried his face in her hair, he couldn’t imagine a time when he hadn’t been filled with her, with the news that they were going to be parents of a beautiful little girl.

She clung to him, her cheek against his chest. He could feel wetness, her tears, on his shirt.

“Why’re you crying?” he asked, stroking her hair.

“Because this turned out so much better than I’d ever dreamed it could.”

Bowled over that he had the power to affect her this much—even when he felt as if he didn’t have a lot of control in his own life—he kissed her on the bridge of her nose, her salt-tinged cheeks, then...

Then suddenly they were kissing for real, deeply, fiercely, as if they’d never kissed before.

She parted her lips, letting him in, and he explored her, languorously, with all the time in the world at their feet, her tongue meeting his as she started to slip down the wall.

Gently pulling her back up, he wrapped her in his arms, her baby bump brushing against him.

Rita started to fumble with the buttons of his shirt, and they came up for air, just as his nether regions started to push at his zipper.

“Is this a good idea?” he asked on the edge of a breath. “You’re—”

“Going to have a baby, I know. You said you wanted to pamper me, and I can’t think of a better way now that we’ve got everything out in the open.”

This wasn’t what he’d had in mind, though. He’d been thinking more along the lines of waiting on her as she lounged on a couch.

“So pamper me,” she whispered urgently, bringing him down for another kiss.

She’d gotten his shirt undone, and the air skittered over the bare skin of his chest. When she slid her hands up his ribs, he sucked in a stiff breath.

And when she circled his nipples with her thumbs...

He was truly a goner.

Yet that didn’t mean he didn’t still want to coddle her.

He took her long sweater by the hem, whisked it upward until it was over her head and on the floor. She was wearing a satin bra, her breasts bulging over the cups of it.

In a flash, he realized that she was bigger than the last time he’d seen her without her clothes on, but the memory fell to misty pieces, leaving only the present.

Lowering his mouth, he kissed the round firmness of her breasts, slipping his hands to her back so he could unhook the bra. When she was free, she raised her hands above her head, bending her elbows and resting back against the wall.

“Kiss me again,” she whispered.

And he did, laving his tongue around her dark pink nipples until they peaked. Then, skimming downward in a path of lazy kisses, he pressed his mouth against her upper stomach.

Then her belly.

He paused, panting, using his hands to tenderly cup her there.

She pushed her elastic-banded skirt down so that the baby bump rode over it.

“Can you hear the heartbeat?” she asked.

Resting his head against her tummy, he listened for a pulse, but he wasn’t sure if the pounding he heard was his own flailing rhythms or Rita’s...or their baby girl’s.

He stayed there for what seemed like forever, Rita stroking his hair, running her fingers over his temple, as if she were playing every chord that was singing in him.

No matter what the circumstances of this child’s conception were, he knew that he—the new Conn—and Rita had made this little girl together. The old Conn couldn’t ever interfere with what he was feeling now.

Nothing—not even memories that might change his perception of who he’d been or who he was—could ever take this away from him.

But even as he told himself that, there was a quiver in his head, as if something was beginning to come loose.

Rita whispered from above him. “Conn...?”

He glanced up at her, resting his hands on her hips. Without a word, he tugged down her skirt all the way, then her undies.

Her lips parted as she leaned her head back against the wall.

When she was fully bared to him, he took a moment to drink her in. His curvy, gorgeous Rita.

His. Not anyone else’s.

He urged her legs apart, and she raised her hands above her head again, her eyelids half-closed, her lashes like dark fans casting crescent shadows on her cheeks.

A chemical explosion—one part lust, one part a feeling he’d never known before—blasted through him, and he rubbed his cheek against her thigh. The scratch of his five-o’clock shadow seemed to dominate every other sound, even her heavy breathing.

Even the avalanche that seemed to be shifting in his head...

Furiously pushing everything in his mind away, he kissed his way up the inside of her leg, reaching up with a hand, touching her between the juncture of her thighs.

She inhaled, long and hard. “Oh.”

He parted her folds, then kissed her there, as she slowly sank down the wall. He had to bring her gently to the ground as her moans came faster, rising into mewling cries.

Using his mouth to love her more, more, he brought her to a climax, and he’d never heard a sound so wonderful.

Not even in the memories he did have.

Between breaths, she said, “Did that...bring anything back to you?”

She was worried about the return of the playboy.

Conn tenderly rested a hand on her belly. “I’m in the here and now, Rita, nowhere else.”

And it was true, because his mind had quieted, especially when she smiled, then reached for his gaping shirt.

He let her take it off him, and when it was pooled on the floor, he eased his hands under her, lifting her and carrying her to the bedroom.

After he laid her out on the bed, he hesitated, brushing his gaze down her once again.

But this memory he was making with her was stronger than anything he’d ever experienced before. He felt that, more than ever, he was this new man.

And he would always be.

“It’s okay,” she said to him. “We can do this while I’m pregnant.”

That wasn’t why he’d been just standing here, but he didn’t tell her that.

In answer, he shucked off the rest of his clothes, then climbed into bed. She was watching him as if this were their first time.

But it actually was, wasn’t it?

She took him in hand, caressing him, making him even harder than before.

“At this rate,” he said, “I’m not going to last long, Rita.”

“I won’t, either.”

They wouldn’t need a condom—she was already pregnant, and the doctor had cleared him of any health issues during a checkup. He assured her of that as they lay on their sides, and she put her leg over his.

When he slid into her, flesh to flesh, he was suddenly blinded by a light in his head. He cradled her as they moved together, slick and slow, their cadence intensifying as the heat flared between them.

A blank slate, he thought, because that was what his mind was right now. Yet, thrust by thrust, he was starting to fill up with utter sensation: the smell of her skin, the sound of her rising gasps, the feel of her as they fit together so perfectly in this moment.

She was his everything, and he was hers, as his mind brimmed with patchwork colors and images of Rita—her in that bridesmaid’s dress at Heartbreak Hill, her at the drive-in with her lips lush and ripe from his kisses, her face as he looked into it now, seeing how deeply she felt for him.

Each picture was building, rising, new memories shooting and rumbling toward the sky...

As his body tightened, the images began to quake, as if they were going to come apart, and he fought to keep that from happening.

But then, instead of bursting into pieces, the images began to burn at the edges, consuming him, turning into a tower of light...

Seething, crackling, flexing—

With a breath of fire, the images did explode, sending jagged pieces in the air. But then, as they got closer to hitting the ground, they looked more like laces of ash, floating, drifting, landing on each other again like a scrapbook coming back together.

Conn held Rita, breathing hard, afraid to let go. Because there was something about those pictures that were darkening in his mind, triggered by the great emotion Rita had brought out in him.

Nothing else could’ve done this, he thought. But why did it have to be now?

Rita cuddled into him, her face burrowed in his neck. “This is true happiness,” she said.

Swallowing, he refused to let her go, even as the pictures in his mind became clear again, turning into frames in a memory, just like a film reel.

He tried to battle the sight of it, but slowly, undisputedly, the reel started to play, and he saw what he had been fearing the most.

* * *

Conn opened his eyes, sunlight peeking through the curtains of a hotel room.

Slowly, he absorbed the sights around him: old-fashioned furniture like an armoire and a dressing screen, velvet on the walls and chairs...

Then last night came back, and he looked down at the woman next to him in bed who was still sleeping.

Her name was Rita.

Conn propped himself up on an elbow, tempted to kiss her awake, but something told him to wait. He wanted to look at her a bit longer because there had been something different about this woman, much more than any other one he’d ever bedded.

He’d flirted with her in a saloon, seduced her, been invited up to this room, and he had intended to leave in the middle of the night, yet... He hadn’t.

He’d stayed long beyond his normal comfort level with a one-night stand. Hell, he was a real pro when it came to knowing when enough was enough, and he could scram with the best of them before things got serious.

But this time he had stayed, and he had lost track of time and common sense.

He touched her hair. Curls. They’d felt good against his skin as she’d trailed kisses down his body. The sex had been amazing, and honestly, there’d been a few moments during the afterglows when he’d thought to himself that he wouldn’t mind coming back tonight, after he’d finished with business.

Not knowing what to make of this strange morning-after emotion, Conn crept out of bed, quietly getting ready to leave the room before she woke up. Maybe he would check in to a room somewhere else, since he hadn’t gone to a hotel before stopping by the saloon last night for dinner. It would allow him to shower and spruce up, because he sure didn’t want to be wearing day-old clothes and stubble to a professional appointment.

But just as he stepped into his jeans and boots, Rita stretched awake, the morning sun kissing her bare skin. She opened her eyes and smiled lazily when she saw him.

Then her gaze darkened when she realized he was getting dressed.

He knew just how to manage this. “Morning. How’d you sleep?”

“I barely did.” She kept watching him cautiously.

On the floor, on top of her clothing, a necklace gleamed. Its pendant was an R that spread apart. He’d taken it off her last night, before they’d fallen into bed and never gotten out of it.

Now he bent to the ground and took it in hand, dangling it. “We dropped this.”

She blushed.

He grinned, knowing the gesture was the best tool in his bachelor kit. “I thought you might let me take it with me today.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to be anywhere but here, Rita, and if I have it handy, it might give me some consolation.”

That seemed to please her, and oddly, her smile pleased him, too.

Then again, the entire night had been out of his realm of experience. He had genuinely listened to her talking about her daughter. He had even found himself telling Rita things he usually didn’t say to other women—about his misspent time in college, about his family. And that seemed to sway her now into trusting him.

Thing was, he wanted to take this necklace with him. In fact, he really did want to spend more time with her, no lies there.

Just one more night, he thought. What would be the harm?

“So what do you say?” he asked. “It’s just some insurance—a guarantee I’ll come strolling through the lobby again tonight.”

She paused.

He added, “I will bring this bauble back to you.”

“Bauble? I spent hard-earned money on that. Not much of it, but still...”

“I’ll treasure it. I promise.”

She laughed, and it was like a release for her. “As long as you bring it back, Conn.”

“I will.”

And, damn it all if he didn’t mean it with all his soul.

One more night, he told himself again, even as he started to suspect that there was something else going on here.

He went to the bed and kissed her, and that was when his assurance totally evaporated.

Whatever it was that had gotten to him about her last night had invaded him again, even as he still tried to play it off. And now, with his lips pressed so affectionately against hers, his body churned with a weakness he didn’t want or need.

He panicked, pulling back, recovering himself so quickly that he almost fooled himself into thinking that it would be easy to drive away tomorrow morning, after he’d been with her one last time.

Rita, content as a kitten, sighed, then closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

Conn merely eased to the door, almost second-guessing himself and leaving the necklace on the end table. But he could fight this. He would come back tonight, and then that would be it.

Tomorrow, he would just write off this affair as a temporary infatuation and things would go back to normal again...