Little Secrets--His Unexpected Heir Page 2

  Her skin was golden—all over, as he had reason to know—her mouth was wide and full, and though she was short, her figure was lush. His memories were clear enough that every drop of blood in his body dropped to his groin, leaving him light-headed...briefly. In an instant, though, all of that changed and a surge of differing emotions raced through him. Pleasure at seeing her again, anger at being faced with a past he’d already let go of and desire that was so hot, so thick, it grabbed him by the throat and choked off his air.

  The heat of his gaze must have alerted her. She looked up and across the crowd, locking her gaze with his. Her eyes went wide, her amazing mouth dropped open and she lifted one hand to the base of her throat as if she, too, was having trouble breathing. Gaze still locked with his, she walked away from the counter, came around the display case and though Jack braced himself for facing her again—nothing could have prepared him for what he saw next.

  She was pregnant.

  Very pregnant.

  Her belly was big, rounded and covered by a skintight, bright yellow T-shirt. The hem of her white capris ended just below her knees and she wore slip-on sneakers in a yellow bright enough to match her shirt.

  He saw and noted all of that in a split second before he focused again on her rounded belly. Jack’s heartbeat galloped in his chest as he lifted his eyes to meet hers. He had a million questions and didn’t have time to nail down a single one before, in spite of the crowd watching them, Rita threw herself into his arms.

  “Jack!” She hugged him hard, then seemed to notice he wasn’t returning her hug, so she let him go and stepped back. Confusion filled her eyes even as her smile faded into a flat, thin line. “How can you be here? I thought you must be dead. I never heard from you and—”

  He flinched and gave a quick glance around. Their little reunion was garnering way too much attention. No way was he going to have this chat with an audience listening to every word. And, he told himself, gaze dropping to that belly again, they had a lot to talk about.

  “Not here,” he ground out, giving himself points for keeping a tight rein on the emotions rushing through him. “Let’s take a walk.”

  “I’m working,” she pointed out, waving her hand at the counter and customers behind her.

  “Take a break.” Jack felt everyone watching them and an itch at the back of his neck urged him to get moving. But he was going nowhere without Rita. He needed some answers and he wasn’t going to be denied. She was here. She was pregnant. Judging by the size of her belly, he was guessing about six months pregnant. That meant they had to talk. Now.

  She frowned a little and even the downturn of her mouth was sexy. Which told Jack he was walking into some serious trouble. But there was no way to avoid any of it.

  While he stared at her, he could practically see the wheels turning in her brain. She didn’t like him telling her what to do, but she was so surprised to see him that she clearly wanted answers as badly as he did. She was smart, opinionated and had a temper, he recalled, that could blister paint. Just a few of the reasons that he’d once been crazy about her.

  Coming to a decision, Rita called out, “Casey,” and a cute redhead behind the counter looked up. “I’m taking a break. Back in fifteen.”

  “Right, boss,” the woman said and went right back to ringing up the latest customer.

  “Might take more than fifteen,” he warned her even as she started past him toward the door.

  “No, it won’t,” she said over her shoulder.

  Whatever her original response to seeing him had been, she was cool and calm now, having no doubt figured out that he deliberately hadn’t contacted her when he got home. They’d talk about that, too. But not here.

  People were watching. The redhead looked curious, but Jack didn’t give a damn. He caught up with Rita in two steps, took hold of her upper arm and steered her past the crowd and out the door. Once they were clear of the shop, though, Rita pulled free of his grip. “I can walk on my own, Jack.”

  Without another word, she proved it, heading down the block toward the Seal Beach pier. The tree-lined street offered patches of shade and she moved from sunlight to shadow, her strides short, but sure.

  He watched her for a couple of minutes, just to enjoy the view. She’d always had a world-class butt and damned if it wasn’t good to see it again. He’d forgotten how little she was. Not delicate, he told himself. Not by a long shot. The woman was fierce, which he liked and her temper was truly something to behold. But right now, it was his own temper he had to deal with. Why was she here? Why was she pregnant? And why the hell hadn’t he known about it?

  His long legs covered the distance between them quickly, then he matched his stride to hers until they were stopped at a red light at Ocean Avenue. Across the street lay the beach, the ocean and the pier. Even from a distance, Jack could see surfers riding waves, fishermen dotting the pier and cyclists racing along the sidewalk.

  While they waited for the light to change, he looked down at her, and inevitably, his gaze was drawn to the mound of her belly. His own insides jumped then fisted. Shoving one hand through his hair, he told himself he should have written to her as he’d said he would. Should have contacted her when he came home for good. But he’d been in a place where he hadn’t wanted to see anyone. Talk to anyone. Hell, even his family hadn’t been able to reach him.

  “How long have you been home?” she asked, her voice nearly lost beneath the hum of traffic.

  “Four months.”

  She looked up at him and he read anger and sorrow, mingled into a dark mess that dimmed the golden light in those dark brown eyes. “Good to know.”

  Before he could speak again the light changed and she stepped off the curb. Once again he took her arm and when she would have shaken him off, he firmly held on.

  Once they crossed the street, she pulled away and he let her go, following after her as she stalked toward a small green park at the edge of a parking lot. Just beyond was a kids’ playground, and beside that, the pier that snaked out into the sea.

  The wind whipped her ponytail and tugged at the edges of his suit jacket. She turned to look up at him and when she spoke, he heard both pain and temper in her voice.

  “I thought you were dead.”

  “Rita—”

  “No.” She shook her head and held up one hand to keep him silent. “You let me think it,” she accused. “You told me you’d write to me. You didn’t. You’ve been home four months and never looked for me.”

  Jack blew out a breath. “No, I didn’t.”

  She rocked back on her heels as if he’d struck her. “Wow. You’re not even sorry, are you?”

  His gaze fixed on hers. “No, I’m not. There are reasons for what I did.”

  She folded her arms across her chest, unconsciously drawing his attention to her belly again. “Can’t wait to hear them.”

  Two

  Rita was shaking.

  Her hands clenched, she tried to ease her galloping heartbeat and steady her breathing. But just standing beside Jack Buchanan made that almost impossible. She slid a glance at him from beneath lowered lashes and her breath caught. Even in profile, he was almost too gorgeous. That black hair, longer now than it had been when they met, those ice-blue eyes, strong jaw, firm mouth, all came together until a knot of emotion settled in her throat, nearly choking her.

  For one magical week six months ago, she had been in love and she’d thought he felt the same. Then he was gone, and she was alone, waiting for a letter that never came. So the last several months, Rita had been convinced he was dead. Killed in service on his last tour of duty. When they met, she knew he was a Marine on R and R. Knew that he would be returning to danger. But somehow, she’d convinced herself that he would be safe. That he would come back. To her.

  He’d promised to write and when she didn�
��t hear from him, Rita had mourned him. She’d had to face the stark, shattering truth that he was never coming home again. That he’d made the ultimate sacrifice and everything they’d found together so briefly was over.

  And now, he was here.

  “How did you find me?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t. I was just walking down the street. Heard your laugh and it stopped me cold.”

  Oh, God. Just an accident. A whim of Fate. He hadn’t been looking for her. Had probably forgotten all about her the moment he left her six months ago. And what had she done? Mourned. Grieved. The memory of that pain fueled her next words.

  “I thought you were dead,” she finally said, and hoped he couldn’t hear the pain in her voice.

  He took a breath, blew it out and said, “I wanted you to.”

  Another blow and this one had her reeling. He’d wanted her to mourn him? To go through the pain of a loss so deeply felt that it had been weeks before she’d even been able to function? The only thing that had kept her going, that had gotten her out of bed in the mornings, was her baby. Knowing that Jack had left her with this gift, this child, had given her strength. She’d gone on, telling herself that Jack would want her to.

  Now she finds out he wanted her to believe he was dead?

  “Who are you?” she asked, shaking her head and blinking furiously to keep tears she wouldn’t show him at bay.

  “The same guy you used to know,” he ground out.

  “No.” She stiffened her spine, lifted her chin and glared at him. “The Jack I knew would never have put me through the last six months.”

  For an instant, she thought she saw shame flash across his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, so Rita put it down to wishful thinking.

  “This isn’t about me,” he said quietly and she heard the tight control in his voice. “You’re pregnant.”

  “Very observant.” God. She wrapped her arms around her belly protectively.

  “How far along?”

  Shocked, Rita bit back the words that first flew to her mouth. Temper spiked, and she had to wrestle it into submission. She knew what he was asking—who’s the father? And she didn’t know if she was more hurt than angry or if it was a tie between the two.

  “Six months,” she said pointedly. “So your cleverly veiled question is answered. You’re the father.”

  Not that she was happy about that at the moment. She loved her baby, had loved its father. But this stranger looking down at her through icy cold eyes was someone she didn’t even recognize.

  “And you didn’t tell me about it.”

  Before she could stop it, a short, sharp laugh shot from her throat. Shaking her head in complete wonder at his ridiculous statement, she countered, “How was I supposed to do that, Jack? I had no way of contacting you. You were going to write to me with your address.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched and his eyes narrowed, but she didn’t care.

  “I don’t think sending a letter addressed to Jack Buchanan, United States Marine Corps, somewhere in a desert would have found you.”

  “Fine. I get it.” He pushed the edges of his jacket back and stuffed his hands into his pockets. The wind lifted his dark red power tie, turning it into a waving flag. His hair was ruffled, his eyes were cold and his jaw tight. “Like I said, there were reasons.”

  “Still haven’t heard them.”

  “Yeah. Not important right now. What is important,” he said, his gaze shifting to the mound of her belly and back up to her eyes again, “is my baby.”

  “You mean my baby,” she corrected and instantly wished she hadn’t come to work that day. If she’d taken the day off, she wouldn’t have been in the bakery when he walked by and none of this would be happening.

  “Rita, if you think I’m walking away from this, you’re wrong.”

  “Why wouldn’t I think that?” she argued, moving away from him, instinctively keeping a safe distance between him and her child. “You walked away before. Never looked back.”

  “That’s not true,” he muttered, letting his gaze slide from hers to focus on the ocean instead. “I thought about you.”

  Her heart twisted, but Rita wouldn’t allow herself to be swayed. He’d walked away. Shut her out. Let her mourn him, for heaven’s sake. I thought about you just didn’t make up for the misery she’d lived through.

  “And I should believe you?”

  He slanted her a glance. “Believe or not, it changes nothing.”

  “That much is true anyway,” Rita agreed. “Look, I have to get back to work.”

  “Your boss won’t fire you if you take more than fifteen minutes.”

  She laughed a little, but there was no warmth in it. “I am the boss. It’s my bakery and I have to get back to it.”

  “Yours?”

  “Yeah,” she said, turning away to head back up Main Street.

  “Why did you come here?” he asked and had her pausing to look over her shoulder at him. “I mean, here, Seal Beach. You lived in Utah when we met.”

  Rita stared at him and whether she wanted to admit it to herself or not, there was a jolt of need inside her she couldn’t quite ignore. With the sun pouring down on him, he looked both dangerous and appealing. He was tall and broad-shouldered and even in an elegant suit, he looked...intimidating. Was it any wonder why she’d fallen so hard for him?

  That was then, she reminded herself; this was now.

  “I moved here because I wanted to feel closer to you,” she admitted, then added, “of course, that’s when I thought you were dead. Now, the only thing that’s dead is what I felt for you.”

  When she walked away, Rita felt his gaze fix on her. And she knew this wouldn’t be the last time she’d see him.

  And that was both worrying and comforting.

  * * *

  That afternoon, Jack went back to the bakery, took a table that allowed him to keep his back to a wall and ordered coffee. A seemingly never-ending stream of customers came and went, laughed, chatted and walked out with red bakery boxes. This was her place, Jack thought with admiration. The shop was small but it had an old-world elegance to it.

  Gleaming wood floors, dark blue granite counters, brass-and-chrome cash register, glistening glass display cases boasting pastries and cookies. There were brass sconces on the walls and pots of flowers and trailing greenery in strategic spots. It looked, he thought, just as she wanted it to. Like an exclusive Italian shop.

  His gaze tracked her employees as they hustled to serve their customers, then shifted to land on Rita herself. She was still ignoring him, but he didn’t mind. Gave him time to think.

  Jack’s mind was still buzzing. Not only at news of the baby but at seeing Rita again. He’d worked for months to wipe her out of his memories and now everything came rushing back in a tidal wave of images.

  He saw her standing at the water’s edge, moonlight spearing down on her from a cold, black sky. December at the beach was cold and she was wearing a jacket, but she was holding her shoes in one hand and letting the icy water lick at her toes.

  Her hair was a tangle of dark brown curls that lifted and swirled around her head in the ever-present wind. She heard him approaching and instantly turned her head to look at him. He should have walked on, cut away from her and headed for the pier, but something about her made him stop. He kept a safe distance between them because he didn’t want to worry her, but as he looked into her big brown eyes, he felt drawn to her like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

  “Don’t be scared,” he said. “I’m harmless.”

  She smiled faintly and tipped her head to one side. “Oh, I doubt that. But I’m not scared.”

  “Why not?” he asked, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Empty beach, in the dark, strange guy...”


  “You don’t seem so strange. Plus, I’m pretty tough,” she said. “And I run really fast.”

  He laughed, admiring the way she stood there, so calm and self-assured. “Noted.”

  “So,” she said, “I’m a tourist. What’s your excuse for being at the beach when it’s this cold?”

  Jack turned to look out over the spread of black water dotted with white froth as it tumbled toward shore. “I’ve been away for a while, so I want to appreciate this view.”

  “You’re in the military?” she asked.

  He glanced at her and smiled. “That obvious?”

  “It’s the haircut,” she admitted, smiling.

  “Yeah,” he scrubbed one hand across the top of his head. “Hard to disguise I guess. Marines.”

  She smiled and he thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  “Well, thank you for your service,” she said, then added, “do you get tired of people saying that?”

  “Nope,” he assured her. “That never gets old. So, a tourist. From where?”

  “Utah,” she said, smiling. “Ogden, specifically.”

  “It’s pretty,” he said. “Though it’s been a few years since I’ve been there.”

  Her smile brightened, nearly blinding him with the power of it. “Thanks, it is gorgeous, and I love the mountains. Especially in fall. But—” she half turned, letting her gaze slide across the ocean “—this is hard to resist.”

  “Yeah, I’ve missed it.”

  “I bet,” she said, tipping her head to one side to look at him. “How long have you been gone?”

  He shrugged, not really wanting to bring the desert heat and the memory of gunfire into this moment. “Too long.”

  As if she understood what he wasn’t saying, she only nodded and they fell into silence until the only sound was the pulse and beat of the sea as it surged toward shore only to rush back out again.