Across the room, Becca and a diminutive blonde dressed in gray slacks and a burgundy sweater were preparing dinner. In front of the hearth, a dark-skinned man with steel-gray hair sat on one of the rockers. Dressed in the usual rancher garb, a blue chambray shirt and Wrangler jeans, he looked like an older version of Rafe. Holding Jaimie in the bend of one arm, he was trying to read the evening newspaper with only one hand, a task greatly complicated by the baby’s wiggling and the rhythmic motion of the chair.
Maggie couldn’t stop staring at him. The family resemblance was so strong, there was no mistaking him for anyone but Rafe’s father. He had the Kendrick chiseled profile, and even with him sitting down, she could see where his sons had gotten their height and well-muscled builds.
As if he sensed her gaze on him, he glanced over his shoulder. Maggie found herself staring into twinkling, gray-blue eyes very like her husband’s. “Well, now,” he said as he pushed to his feet, “just look what the cat dragged in!” He dropped the newspaper and jiggled Jaimie to get a better hold on him. Then in a booming voice that made Maggie’s nerves leap, he hollered, “Annie, the kids are finally home!”
Clutching green-leaf lettuce in her slender hands, Ann Kendrick whirled from the sink. She gave a glad cry when she saw her son, and her wide gray eyes went bright with tears. “Rafael!” She flung the lettuce back in the sink and came racing across the room. “Oh, Rafael!”
Rafe drew away from Maggie in the nick of time to catch his mother in his arms. He chuckled and lifted her off her feet to swing her in a circle. Ann hugged his neck, laughing and crying at once.
“I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my life!” she told him.
“The feeling’s mutual,” Rafe assured her as he set her down. “Damn, Mom, I’ve missed you! I didn’t expect you today. I thought Dad had a stress test early next week.”
“They had a cancellation, and he got in early. We didn’t phone because we wanted to surprise you for Thanksgiving.”
“And the test results?”
“There’s not a thing wrong with him that some common sense wouldn’t cure. The chest pain isn’t from his heart. It’s indigestion from eating too much fatty food. So what did your father do? He celebrated his clean bill of health by eating country-fried steak with biscuits and gravy at a greasy-spoon restaurant!”
“And topped it off with a cigarette, I’ll bet.” Rafe grinned at his dad. “Ornery as the day is long. Why do you put up with him?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’m fond of him.” Ann ran her hands over her son’s face. “Oh, Rafael. It’s so good to have you back.”
Rafe bent to kiss her cheek. “I’m home to stay now. I promise.”
Ann gave him another hug. “You’d better be,” she said as she stepped away to let him greet his father.
Rafe turned and locked gazes with his dad. The room went suddenly quiet, and for what seemed to Maggie an interminably long moment, the two men just stared at each other. Then, as if by mutual decision, they stepped off the distance between them.
Still holding Jaimie, Keefe returned Rafe’s exuberant hug with only one arm. He sniffed, patted his son on the back, and said, “Careful of my grandson. We don’t wanna squash the little guy.”
Rafe drew back slightly to look down at the baby. “What do you think of him, Dad? Does he pass muster?”
Keefe smiled. “Your mama swears up and down he’s damned near as good-lookin’ as I am, so I reckon he’s a keeper.”
Ann, who stood slightly off to the side watching her husband and son, smiled and inserted, “Actually, I said he was better-looking than you are.”
“Don’t split hairs.” Keefe handed the baby to Rafe and then turned to regard Maggie. Still hanging back by the door, she felt impaled by those slate-blue eyes. Like Rafe, Keefe Kendrick seemed to miss nothing as he swept his gaze slowly over her. His expression sober and unreadable, he strode toward her, coming to a halt half an arm’s length away. Every bit as tall and broad across the chest as his son, he seemed to loom over her.
“And this must be Maggie.” He grasped her elbow, drew her away from the wall, and then proceeded to step a circle around her. Maggie felt like a mare on the auction block. “She’s a little on the scrawny side, son.”
Maggie threw Rafe a horrified glance. His mouth twitched, and he gave her a reassuring wink. Then, to his father, he said, “I’ve been trying to fatten her up. No matter what I feed her, though, I can’t seem to get any meat on her bones.”
“Hmmm,” was Keefe’s reply to that. “I have the same problem with your mother.” Completing his circle around Maggie, Keefe came to a stop in front of her and cupped her chin in his big, hard hand. After turning her face this way and that, he nodded. “On the plus side, she’s a pretty little thing. Nice, clean lines. She’ll wear good. Only problem with her that I can see is that you’ll have to beat the fellows off with a club.”
“I can handle it.” Rafe fixed a laughing gaze on Maggie. “Any other man looks twice at her, and he’s dead.”
“How are her teeth?”
“She bites, so I haven’t been able to check. I haven’t glimpsed any cavities when she snarls, though, so I’m hoping she won’t bankrupt me with dental bills.”
Keefe nodded. “She’ll do, I reckon.”
Ann Kendrick clucked her tongue. “Keefe, leave off. He’s only teasing you, Maggie. Don’t pay him a second’s notice.”
Keefe chuckled, and before Maggie guessed what he meant to do, he gathered her into his arms for a gentle hug and bent his head to kiss her cheek. “Welcome to our family, Maggie.”
Maggie frantically searched her mind for a suitable response, but she was so surprised by Keefe Kendrick’s overture that she drew a total blank. He kept a strong arm around her shoulders as he led her toward his wife. “Well, Annie? What do you think of our new daughter?”
Ann stepped closer and framed Maggie’s face between her fine-boned hands. “She’s beautiful, Rafael,” she said warmly. And the next thing Maggie knew, she was receiving another affectionate hug. As Ann drew away, she said, “I’m so glad to have another woman in the family again! I need all the reinforcement I can get with these big galoots. And Jaimie! I spent the whole afternoon cuddling him. He’s adorable! What a joy to have another grandchild to spoil.”
“You’ll have to excuse my folks, Maggie,” Rafe said, his voice laced with amusement. “They forget that all families aren’t quite so demonstrative. It may take a while, but you’ll get used to them.”
Maggie felt tears burning at the backs of her eyes. To be instantly accepted like this—to have them hug her and call her daughter…Oh, God. Maggie was horrified to realize she was about to cry.
The weight of her father-in-law’s arm around her shoulders reminded Maggie of her dad. She glanced up at Keefe’s dark face. He flashed her a grin that was so much like Rafe’s, she couldn’t help but smile back. He gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze.
“You two got home just in time for dinner,” Ann informed them. To Maggie, she said, “After the ordeal you’ve been through, I’m sure you want to clean up.” She glanced at the kitchen clock. “You’ve got about thirty minutes. We can watch Jaimie while you shower.”
Maggie did feel in dire need of a good scrubbing. She glanced at the baby in Rafe’s arms. “I can just take him with me. I’m sure you’ll want some one-on-one time with your parents.”
“Don’t be silly,” Ann said with a smile. “We can visit while we watch the baby. Keefe and I are so taken with him, we’ll enjoy every minute.”
Maggie glanced uncertainly at Rafe. He gave her a slight, almost imperceptible nod. “Well, if you’re sure. I really would like to freshen up.”
“How about if I bring the cradle in, honey?” Rafe asked as she started to leave the kitchen. “That way, we can just keep Jaimie out here this evening while we’re visiting.”
Until that moment, Maggie had forgotten all about the cradle in the back of the Expedition. A thought occ
urred to her. “Oh, gosh. They’re supposed to deliver all that stuff today before five, aren’t they?”
Rafe checked his watch. “Damn. That’s right.”
“All what stuff?” Keefe asked.
“I came close to buying out an entire baby store yesterday,” Rafe explained. He glanced at Maggie, his eyes dancing with mischief. “I got a little impatient with Maggie because she was agonizing over the prices, so I took over and bought one of just about everything in the place.”
“You got a fever, son? When a woman agonizes over the prices, let her agonize.” Keefe chuckled and directed his gaze toward Maggie. “Whatever it is ailing you, honey, I hope Annie contracts the disease.” To Rafe, he added, “Your mama can spend money faster than any female I’ve ever seen. And you know the kicker? She tells me afterward how much she saved me. I’ve never quite been able to follow that line of reasoning.”
“That’s because you’re a man and think mostly left-brain.” Ann shrugged. “It makes perfect sense to me. If I buy on sale, I save.”
Maggie was so entertained by their teasing banter that she nearly forgot why she’d been about to leave the room.
Half an hour later when Maggie reentered the kitchen after freshening up, the adjoining sitting and eating area was filled nearly wall-to-wall with newly delivered baby furniture. Heidi had gotten home from school, and she was examining everything like a kid in the center of a toy shop. Rafe and his dad were ripping open a cardboard crate to look at the unassembled crib.
“Why didn’t you pay extra to have them put it together?” Keefe asked. “We’ll be all evening figuring the damned thing out.”
“Oh, come on, Dad. Where would be the fun in that?”
The two men wrestled the crib pieces from the box, laid them out on the floor, and then stood staring down at the parts as if it were a creation from another planet.
“Read the directions!” Ann called from the sink. “Just once, Keefe?”
Rafe snorted. “We don’t need directions. It’s a simple enough assembly, Mom. Do you think we’re total imbeciles?”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“No cracks from anyone who doesn’t know a Phillips from a flat-blade screwdriver,” Keefe warned.
“I know a Phillips, just as I know a blockhead when I see one.”
Smiling at their teasing, Maggie gave Heidi a hard hug and then wandered through the maze of stuff to find her son. Recently fed, Jaimie was sleeping peacefully in his new cradle. Someone had spread a receiving blanket over the tiny, plastic-covered pad for him to lie on, and he was warmly bundled in another blanket. Maggie touched a hand to the baby’s dark head, remembering a time in the not so distant past when she’d felt almost overwhelmed by the prospect of raising him alone. Now he had a nanny in the loving Becca, a doting father, and grandparents to help look after him.
“Dinner is ready,” Ann called. “You fellas can string that stuff everywhere and lose all the screws later.”
“We won’t lose the screws,” Rafe huffed.
Neither man looked up from the task at hand. Neither of them had reached for the instruction sheet yet, either. Keefe held up an end piece. “Oh, yeah,” he said, his tone laced with confidence. “This is self-explanatory. Piece of cake.”
Ten minutes later, the men still hadn’t responded to the meal call, and Ann stood over them with her hands at her hips. “Can this wait, guys?” she asked, but got no answer as the two men bent their heads to their task.
Ann sat on the rocker, glaring at her son and husband. “Twenty seconds and counting. We’ve got a hungry ten-year-old to feed, and dinner’s getting cold.”
Her stern look finally convinced the Kendrick males to leave the crib assembling for later.
Chapter Twenty-two
It was ten-thirty that night when Rafe’s parents left for their cottage on the other side of the lake, and even then, Ryan, who had also dropped by to visit, remained behind to help Rafe finish assembling the crib. While the men worked, Maggie got Jaimie comfortably settled for the night in the bedroom, checked in on Heidi, and then she decided to take a hot bath. She’d had time to grab only a quick shower earlier, and after her escapade in the woods, she felt in need of a thorough scrubbing.
She had just settled back in a deliciously hot tubful of water and closed her eyes when she heard the bathroom door open. Startled, she turned to see Rafe slowly crossing the tiled floor. He’d washed up earlier and thrown on a white dress shirt, the collar open to reveal a V of bronze chest, the sleeves rolled back over his corded forearms.
He smiled slightly at her look of surprise, and his smoky blue eyes took on a mischievous twinkle when she glanced over the edge of the tub in search of a towel or anything else she might use to cover herself. She had to settle for using her washcloth, which she draped over her chest. Unfortunately, it covered only the main points, leaving the rest of her exposed.
Thrusting a hand between her thighs to conceal her nether regions, she managed a squeaky, “Hello. I thought you were working on the crib.”
“We decided to leave the rest for tomorrow after dinner.”
“Oh. I expected you to be a while.”
“I can see that you did. Caught you, didn’t I?”
Maggie decided to ignore that. “Um…do you want something? I can be out in a jiffy.”
He sat on the tile step that led up to the garden tub. Maggie didn’t take it as a good sign when he rolled each of his sleeves higher. She gulped and gave him a wondering look which he greeted with a grin. “You don’t act very happy to see me,” he said in a gruff, low-pitched voice. “And yes, I do want something.”
She swallowed convulsively again. “Oh? What?”
His firm mouth quirked at the corners. “You know very well what.” He settled his gaze on the washcloth, which seemed to be shrinking under the heat of his regard. Maggie clamped her free hand over one edge. He reacted by leaning around slightly to regard the unveiled swell of her other breast.
His eyes gleaming, he lowered a hand to the water, trailing his fingertips over the surface. Maggie didn’t know if he meant to conjure images in her mind, but he did, nonetheless. She couldn’t help but recall how he’d caressed her skin in just that way, and remembering gave her goose bumps. Even worse, she had a bad feeling that her washcloth had suddenly developed peaks.
“I—um—” Her toes curled when his gaze came to rest on the hand she held clamped between her legs. “I can be out of here in a flash. Why don’t you step out, and I’ll be right there.”
“And miss this opportunity?” He slowly shook his head. “My mama didn’t raise no fool. You know, don’t you, that there’s nothing quite so delectable as a beautiful woman fresh from her bath—unless it’s a beautiful woman still in the bath. Clean, rosy-pink skin…with droplets of water to sip away. Every part of her body sweet and just waiting to be kissed or nibbled. It’d take a team of draft horses to drag me out of here.”
“Oh,” she said weakly.
He chuckled, the sound deep and warm, curling around her like an embrace. “Sweetheart, don’t be nervous.”
Easily said. Maggie had never taken a bath in front of a man. Her skin tingled as if the water itself was electrified. “I’m not nervous, exactly.” She momentarily forgot the washcloth and lifted her hand to gesture a little wildly. “Not at all. It’s just—you’re gaping at me.” She clamped her hand back over the edge of the terry cloth.
His lean cheek creased in a slow grin. “I’m sorry. I can’t help myself. You’re as pretty as sunrise and sunset and everything in between.”
He cupped water in his hand and spilled it in a tickling dribble over her chest. The unanchored edge of her washcloth floated away. Maggie grabbed for it with both hands, leaving her nether regions unguarded for only the briefest of moments. It was all the opportunity he needed. Before Maggie guessed what he meant to do, he cupped his hand over her thatch of curls.
She gasped and grabbed his wrist. “What’re you doing???
?
“Helping you keep everything hidden,” he replied teasingly. “With three hands to do the job, that leaves both of yours free to wrestle with that washcloth.” His long fingers flexed where they cupped her. Maggie jerked in reaction. “Aren’t I thoughtful?”
She gripped his wrist more tightly, her stomach beset by swirling heat as he pressed firmly against that spot with the heel of his hand, then released the pressure. Her breath caught, and her throat convulsed to stifle a moan. He twisted at the waist, slipped his other hand behind her head, and lifted her slightly, settling his mouth over hers.
Maggie’s head went into a spin. She clenched her wet hands on the front of his shirt, forgetting all about the washcloth. Forgetting all about everything. Rafe. In a distant corner of her mind, she was shocked at herself. But she could no more break the contact of their mouths than she could stop breathing.
She gave a startled squeak when he suddenly caught her behind the knees and scooped her from the water. She blinked, trying to orient her dizzied senses as he carried her from the brightly lit bathroom to the shadowy bedroom. Upon reaching the bed, he gently laid her on the mattress.
“I’ll get the bed damp,” she protested.
“Like I care?” He jerked off his shirt and opened his jeans. The next instant, he covered her, his hard shaft thrusting fast and deep.
Maggie hadn’t thought she could feel anything more intense than what she had experienced last night. But she was wrong. Rafe. His name was like a sweet refrain in her mind, and once again, his gift to her was sheer magic.
Much later, Maggie awakened to find Rafe leaning over her with Jaimie in his arms. He’d pulled his jeans back on, but his upper torso was bare, his wedge-like form gleaming like seasoned oak in the moonlight. She yawned and stretched, smiling up at him. “Is he hungry again already?”
“You could say that.” As though to punctuate the sentence, Jaimie whimpered and squirmed. Rafe smiled. “Go to the bathroom and wash up, Mama. You’ve been off the meds for two full days. No more bottles and formula for this kid.”