Читать книгу: «Having Tanner Bravo's Baby»
“It’s not nice to mock the mother of your child.”
“I was teasing, not mocking.”
She was falling for Tanner Bravo.
Falling for Tanner…
She was learning that what she felt for him was…more. More than just sex. More, even, than the huge reality of having his baby.
What was happening here? Crystal didn’t do the forever type of commitment.
But then again, she was having a baby. That was an enormous commitment. Maybe it wasn’t all that surprising that suddenly she found herself confronting the possibility of giving forever a chance.
Forever with Tanner. What next?
Love.
Could it be? Really?
They’d been so careful, all along, never to say the word. Tanner hadn’t said it, even when he got after her to be open to the idea of marriage.
Love.
Having his baby. And now this…
Christine Rimmer came to her profession the long way around. Before settling down to write about the magic of romance, she’d been everything from an actress to a sales clerk to a waitress. Now that she’s finally found work that suits her perfectly, she insists she never had a problem keeping a job—she was merely gaining life experience for her future as a novelist. Christine is grateful not only for the joy she finds in writing, but for what waits when the day’s work is through: a man she loves, who loves her right back, and the privilege of watching their children grow and change day to day. She lives with her family in Oklahoma.Visit Christine at www.christinerimmer.com.
Having Tanner Bravo’s Baby
Christine Rimmer
MILLS & BOON
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For MSR,
with all my love.
Chapter One
Crystal Cerise stood in the cute little kitchen area of her one-bedroom apartment, staring out the window over the sink at an uninspired view of the parking lot. She was two months pregnant. And that evening, over dinner, she intended to break the big news to the father of her child.
The salad was made and waiting in the fridge. The main course, lasagna, was almost through baking. Its tempting smell filled the air. Crystal looked down at the open loaf of Italian bread on the counter in front of her. Ready for the garlic butter. She picked up the spreader and began slathering it on, pausing for a glance at the yard-sale kitchen clock—a red vintage treasure with big deco-style white numbers that usually made her smile. Not today, however. Today it would take a lot more than a whimsical wall clock to make Crystal smile.
6:05 p.m. Twenty-five minutes until he arrived. Oh, she did not want to do this. But putting it off would only make the job all the harder in the end. Or so she kept reminding herself….
God. Having Tanner Bravo’s baby. How could she have let this happen?
The answer was simple: chemistry. She and Tanner had it bad for each other. Neither of them wanted to be driven nuts with mutual lust. They constantly agreed that they’d never do that again.
And then they did do that again. And again.
Sadly, other than between the sheets, the two of them weren’t a match in any way. She knew he considered her a flake, though he never actually used the word. Uh-uh. He would talk about her “woo-woo ways” and give her a hard time for the way she’d packed up her car and moved to Sacramento on what he considered a whim.
“Better a flake,” she muttered, reaching for the paprika, “than overly serious and broody and grim.” She shook the paprika onto the garlic-buttered bread. And controlling. Oh, yeah. Tanner Bravo was way too controlling.
She should never have had sex with him. Not the first time. Or the second. Or the third or the fourth.
She set the can of paprika down. Hard. And stared out the window some more.
Raging lust had made her careless. And now there was a baby coming. A baby she would keep, thank you very much. Crystal may not have been practical or thrifty or all that wise. She was scared to death she’d be a terrible mother.
And yet…well, she simply could not refuse such a huge gift of the universe. Especially not in light of what had happened when she was sixteen.
So. She would keep the baby.
Twice in the past couple of weeks, she’d tried to tell Tanner that there was going to be a baby and that she was keeping it. Both times, they’d ended up having sex. As per usual. And after the sex, well, she was so disgusted with herself for giving in to her crazy yen for him, yet again, that she never did get the words out.
Truth to tell, she still felt the urge to put off telling him. More than once that day, she’d found herself reaching for the phone, ready to call him and cancel this little get-together tonight. The desire to back out had been especially compelling at about two o’clock that afternoon—right after she’d quit her job. Because, please, who wants to be newly unemployed and telling a man she’s pregnant, both on the same day?
Frowning, Crystal stared out the window some more—and blinked in surprise when a wiry gray head popped into view. It was Doris Krindle, who had the one-bedroom next door.
Frantically, Doris mouthed, “Nigel? Have you seen Nigel?”
“Omigod,” Crystal cried in sympathetic distress. “He got out?”
Doris nodded, hard. Nigel, her enormous black-smoke Persian, was an inside cat all the way.
It was three steps from the kitchen sink to Crystal’s dinky entry hall. She pulled the door wide on Doris’s deeply tanned, wrinkled face and asked, “How long has he been gone?”
Doris pressed her bony hands to her chest. “Oh, I wish I knew for sure. I went to the store. When I got back…” She shook her head so her wiry silver curls bounced. “He’s terrified of being outside. Usually, when I open the door, he runs the other way. But I’ve looked all over the apartment. He’s gone. Just…gone.”
Crystal took Doris by her thin shoulders. “Stop. Take a breath. Think thoughts of peace and positive outcomes. He can’t have gone far.”
“Oh, I do hope you’re right.”
“Come on,” Crystal said briskly. “We’ll find him. You’ll see. We’ll start by going through your apartment again.” She turned Doris to point her in the right direction and gave her a gentle push along the concrete walk toward her apartment door.
Tanner Bravo rolled up the windows, killed the Mustang’s engine, draped a hand over the steering wheel and glared out the windshield at the white stucco wall of Crystal’s apartment complex.
She’d invited him to dinner. Why?
Since they were always planning not to have sex again, they never did things like going on dates or sharing a meal with just the two of them, alone. They would hook up without planning to at family events: his niece DeDe’s dance recitals, Sunday dinners at his sister, Kelly’s….
At least once a week, it seemed, they ended up in the same room together, surrounded by family. Simple proximity—that was all it took, though in front of the others they would fake complete lack of interest in each other for all they were worth.
Even when it was time to go home, both would try their damnedest to keep up the pretense that they had no intention of getting naked and crawling all over each other the minute they were alone. They would say their goodbyes to his sister and her family and drive away in their separate cars.
And then one of them would weaken and call the other. The other, breathless, would say yes.
And after that? His place or her place, it was always the same: hot and wild and absolutely amazing.
Damned if he wasn’t getting hard just thinking about it.
But an invitation to dinner at her apartment? That wasn’t the way they did things. Something was up.
And what the hell was that noise? Some kind of alarm or something, coming from inside the building.
Tanner got out of the car. Yeep, yeep, yeep, yeep…
Sounded like a smoke alarm. It seemed to be coming from Crystal’s place….
He raced the hundred yards or so along the walk to Crystal’s door, the alarm growing louder with each step. When he got there, he raised his hand and knocked, yelling, “Crystal!” good and loud.
She didn’t answer. But the door, not quite latched, drifted open.
Gray smoke billowed out. From inside, the smoke alarm shrieked. Yeep, yeep, yeep, yeep…
Tanner shouted, “Crystal, Crystal!” No answer.
Was she in there defenseless, unconscious from smoke inhalation? The thought made his heart pound the walls of his chest like a wrecking ball and his gut clench tight. “Crystal!”
Again, she didn’t answer. So he pulled the top of his shirt up to cover his nose and mouth, dropped to his hands and knees to get under the worst of the smoke and crawled across the threshold, shouting her name.
Chapter Two
Nigel was nowhere to be found.
Crystal and an increasingly freaked out Doris had searched every inch of the older woman’s apartment about six times. They’d checked outside in the parking lot, under all the cars. They’d closely examined the small spaces between the photinia hedges that rimmed the walkways. They’d raced down the sidewalk between the complex’s buildings and scoured the central courtyard, with its swathes of emerald grass and pretty weeping willow trees. They’d even gone all the way to the rec room, and opened all the cupboards and checked under all the furniture. They’d beat the bushes around the pool area, too.
No sign of an overweight pug-nosed, long-haired cat with a smoky-black outer coat and creamy fur beneath.
Finally, they’d returned to Doris’s living room, where Crystal’s neighbor wrung her hands and cried, “My poor, poor baby. Where have you gone?” A tear cleared the boundary of her lower lid and tracked a shining trail down her brown, creased cheek. “Oh, Crystal. He won’t last a day outdoors. I know he’s got an attitude. He thinks he’s king of the world. But really, he’s just a fat, fuzzy sweetheart with no survival skills beyond a crabby meow when he wants his dinner….”
“He’s okay, I know it,” Crystal insisted for the hundredth time.
“Oh, you’re a darling to say so, but—”
They both heard the low, cranky “Rrreeow?” at the same time and turned in unison to face the open arch to the entryway. Nigel sat there, his expression aloof, his fuzzy explosion of a tail lazily twitching against the floor tiles.
“Nigel!” Doris cried. She ran to him and scooped him up, gathering him close against her heart. “Where have you been? You scared us to death!”
The cat let out another grouchy meow and acquiesced to be scratched under his almost nonexistent chin.
With the back of a hand, Doris swiped tears of relief from her cheeks. She turned grateful eyes Crystal’s way. “Oh, thank you, thank you.”
Crystal laughed. “For what? I didn’t do anything. Nigel seems to have found himself.”
“True, true.” Doris laughed in relief and happiness. “He did, didn’t he? But you were here with me while I was so afraid. I can’t tell you how much that meant at a time like that.”
“Well, I know you’d be there for me, too, if I needed you.”
“I would. I swear it,” Doris passionately declared. “Anytime.” She stroked the cat’s thick fur. “Oh, where did you get off to, you bad, bad boy?” The cat started to purr, a deep, rough sound. Doris sighed. “I suppose we’ll never know…”
Now that the crisis was past, Crystal glanced at the small gold-and-ebony clock perched on a spindly side table. It was six forty-five.
“Oh, no,” she muttered. “Tanner…” He was probably waiting at her door, thoroughly annoyed, wondering where the hell she’d gone off to now.
Doris frowned. “Excuse me?”
Crystal put on a smile. “Oh, nothing. Really. I invited someone over. I have to get going.”
“Someone?” Doris hugged the fat cat, her still moist eyes now sparkling with interest. “A man? A date?”
“Uh, not exactly.”
Still cuddling Nigel, Doris trailed her to the door. “Not exactly a man?”
Crystal laughed again. “Oh, he’s a man all right. But it’s not exactly a date….”
“Humph. Well. You’ve been here more than two months. It’s about time you had a man around.”
In lieu of an actual reply, Crystal made a noncommittal noise in her throat.
Doris said, “You have a lovely time, Crys. And thank you again.”
“Glad to help.” She pulled open the door and smelled…
“Smoke!” Doris sniffed the air. “I smell—”
“Yikes! The lasagna…” Crystal took off.
Doris called after her, “If you need me—”
“Thanks!” Crystal sent a wave back over her shoulder as she reached her own front door.
It was open. So was the kitchen window.
“Tanner?” She stepped cautiously past the threshold.
“In here.” He was leaning against the counter in the kitchen area, hard arms folded over his chest. The oven door was open. And the lasagna sat on the cooktop, burned beyond recognition.
“Oh, God…” Crystal groaned.
“I got here on time.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry….”
“I heard the alarm, smelled the smoke. I called your name—loud. When you didn’t answer, I thought you must be passed out from smoke inhalation. But when I got in here and got the windows open…no sign of you.”
She knew how his mind worked. He’d been a private detective for too long. “You probably thought I’d been kidnapped, trussed up in a burlap bag, and dragged off to who knows where, while my lasagna was left to burn.”
“Something like that.”
“Honestly, Tanner, I’m so, so sorry.” Ugh. She was not only pregnant and unemployed with four hundred twenty-three dollars and sixteen cents in her checking account, she’d made Tanner worry for her safety. And her apartment reeked of burned lasagna. Did it get any worse than this? She met Tanner’s dark, watchful eyes. Oh, yeah, it got worse. There was still the big news to break. She explained, “The neighbor’s cat ran away. I went to help her find him.”
He unfolded his arms and hooked his hands on the counter behind him. Mildly, he suggested, “Next time turn off the oven first.”
“Yeah. Good idea.”
“Did you find the cat?”
“We did. More or less—actually, the cat found us.”
“Ah,” he said, meaning he didn’t understand but didn’t really care, either.
There was a silence. They regarded each other. As always when she looked at him, she thought of sex—of the feel of his skin beneath her hands, of the fullness and warmth of his lips on hers, of the rough scrape of his beard-shadowed cheek against her own, of the rich taste of his mouth, of the delicious, complete way he filled her, of the way he moved when he was inside her…
His dark eyes had gone black as midnight. She knew his thoughts mirrored hers. Her body yearned for him. Ached for him.
Three steps separated them. It would have been so easy, just to take those steps, to wrap her arms around his strong neck, to offer up her mouth to his.
She cleared her throat and tore her gaze away.
“Crystal.” He said her name low and rough—but somehow gently, too.
“What?” She knew she sounded like a sulky child. And still, she didn’t face him.
“Look at me.”
“Right.” She sucked in a slow breath and made herself do it.
“What’s going on?”
I’m pregnant. It’s yours, she thought, but all that came out was, “I, um…”
He waited for her to say more. When she didn’t, he shrugged, a lazy movement that made her want to touch him, to spear her fingers into his nearly black hair, and drag those amazing lips of his down onto hers. Hard.
Crystal sucked in a steadying breath and silently reminded herself that no matter how much she wanted him, they were not having sex tonight.
Finally, he spoke. “I turned on the fan that goes with the heater and AC.” Now that he mentioned it, she could hear the soft drone the fan made. “And I opened all the windows.” He gestured beyond the counter that marked off the kitchen, toward the living area and the wide window that looked out on the lawn and the willow trees. “It should clear out the last of the smoke in no time.” An almost smile tugged at one corner of that sinfully sexy mouth of his. “It’s a…real pretty view, out that window. Real nice.”
She felt worse than ever. He was actually making small talk. He didn’t know what was bothering her, but he sensed something was. So he was trying to put her at ease—Tanner, who had been suspicious of her from the first day they met, who guarded his heart from her as fiercely as she did hers from him. Tanner. Who never made small talk.
But he was now. He seemed to sense that she had something huge going on. And since his mind always went down roads of darkness and destruction, he probably imagined the worst: she’d done murder or she was dying of some incurable disease.
Please don’t worry, she wanted to tell him. It’s nothing as bad as all that….
But then he would demand to know what “it” was.
And she would have to tell him, It’s just a baby. Your baby. That’s all.
Which was fine. Perfect. Exactly why she’d asked him there that night.
Yet still, she didn’t say it.
He straightened from the counter and approached her slowly, as if he feared any sudden move might make her whirl and run. When he reached her, he lifted both hands and—oh, so gently—clasped her shoulders.
Crystal melted at his touch and ordered her traitorous body not to sway toward him. “Oh, Tanner…”
He looked deep into her eyes. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it? I mean, really wrong.”
“Um, well, I…”
“It’s not like you to invite me over for dinner. It’s not…what we do.”
“I know.” It wasn’t fair. On top of the killer hotness thing he had going, he was being so kind. So understanding…
“So what’s up?” he asked. “Come on. Tell me. If there’s something I can help you with, I’m on it. You can count on me.”
You can count on me….
She believed him. Tanner was like that. Often brooding and grim. Suspicious by nature and by profession. But solid in a crunch. The kind of person who would never walk away from his responsibilities.
I should just tell him. Why couldn’t she just tell him? She opened her mouth to do it.
“I quit my job today.” The words kind of slipped out: the wrong secret, revealed in place of the one he really needed to know.
He let go of her shoulders and stepped back. “That’s it? That’s what’s wrong? You quit your job?”
“Well.” She looked down and to the side and then forced herself to meet his eyes again. “It is bothering me.”
He gave her a puzzled frown. “You need a loan, is that it?”
She drew herself up. “Me? No way. I’ve quit jobs before. I’ll manage until I find another one. I always do.”
“But that’s why I’m here, right? You invited me to dinner because you wanted to tell me you quit your job?”
“Uh. Not exactly. But I did. I quit. Today. This afternoon.”
He raked a hand back through his hair. She watched his bicep bulge with the movement and imagined sinking her teeth into the silky skin there—but gently. Teasingly…
“Okay,” he said patiently. “Then…you’re going to tell me all about it?”
“About…?”
“Why you quit.”
“Long story.”
“I’m listening.”
Crystal needed a moment to gather some courage. “How ’bout a beer?”
“A beer.” He looked at her as if she’d lost a large section of her mind.
She wiggled her fingers in the direction of the living area. “Go sit down. I’ll bring it out to you. I have to put the garlic bread in the oven, anyway.” Her glance fell on the blackened slab of lasagna and she muttered, “I think we’re going to need lots of bread.”
Those piercing eyes of his scanned her face. Finally, he grunted. “Sure. Bring me a beer.” He turned toward the living area and the blue-covered futon that served as her sofa.
A few minutes later, she joined him.
He took the beer from her and set it on the coffee table without drinking from it. “Okay. Tell me. What’s up with you quitting your job?”
“Nuts?” She offered the bowl she’d brought from the kitchen.
He gave her a steady, unblinking look. “No, thanks.”
“Fine.” She set the bowl down. “It’s like this. Maybe Kelly told you. I hate my boss—I mean my ex-boss.”
“A law firm, isn’t it? You were working for Bandley and Schinker—family law, right?”
“That’s right.”
“They have a pretty good rep.”
“They seemed okay, as law firms go. It was my boss I hated. I took the job when I first got to town.”
“Yeah, I remember that.”
“I hated it from the beginning. I don’t think I’m really cut out to work in a law office, even one with a good reputation. But I hung in, thinking I could make it last until I found something better.”
“I can see where this is going. Tell me more about the ex-boss you hate.”
She blew out a breath. “My former boss is tall, blond and square-jawed. Handsome if you don’t count his personality. Married. And a total weasel. He was always putting the make on me, in ways I’m sure he considered subtle. Until today. Today, he crossed the line and tried to kiss me. After I finished gagging, I told him I quit. That was it.” She tried a bright smile. “Not an especially original story, huh?”
Tanner did not smile. “What’s his name?”
His flat tone and the unreadable look in his eye told her way more than she wanted to know. “Uh-uh. No way. I know how you are, Tanner. And I’m grateful we’ve reached the point where I’m one of the people you feel responsible for. But in this case…you’re not.”
“You said he tried to kiss you. That’s harassment. The least you can do is sue the bastard.”
“Tanner. Listen.”
“What?”
“I only told you all this because…well, I don’t know exactly why I told you. But I do know I don’t need any help with this issue. I’ve done what I had to do, which is to quit. I’m finished. It’s over. End of story, time to move on. Are we clear on that?”
“Sure.” His voice was flat, his eyes more so.
God. What had possessed her to tell him about her horny jerk of an ex-boss? She never should have told him that. Incredible, the things people say when they should be saying something else.
“I want your word,” she demanded darkly. “I mean it. I don’t want you to find out who my boss was. I don’t want you to track him down. I don’t want you do anything. Except listen the way you just did. That’s all I want. Honestly. Just for you to listen.”
“That’s crap.”
“No, it’s not crap. It’s…a woman thing. Women actually appreciate a friend who listens. For a woman, sometimes it’s all she needs. Someone to listen.”
He picked up his beer then and poured about half of it down his throat. She watched his Adam’s apple slide as he swallowed. Then he leaned back against the futon and studied her, looking the way she imagined a hungry panther might look as he regarded his lunch.
When he didn’t talk for about thirty seconds, she said, “Don’t give me the Clint Eastwood routine, okay? This is my business, which I shared with you. Mine. Get it? Mine. Nod if you can hear me.”
A count of ten. And at last, with obvious reluctance, he dipped his head.
She said, “I mean it, Tanner. Promise me you’ll stay out of this. Stay away from my ex-boss.”
“I don’t like it. It’s not right. That SOB was out of line. Someone has to step up and show him what’s what.”
“Got that. Understood. And you are not that someone. Because this is not your business. Now, give me your word you won’t try to find out anything about him, won’t approach him, won’t contact him, won’t do anything to him.”
Just when she was certain he wouldn’t agree, he said, “All right. If that’s how you want it.”
“It’s how I want it.”
“Then fine,” he grumbled, looking like he wanted to break something. “You have my word.”
The buzzer on the stove went off. “That’s the garlic bread,” she said brightly. “Let’s eat.”
Crystal cut the lasagna, just to see if some of it might be salvageable. It wasn’t. But at least there was plenty of bread and salad.
Crystal offered Tanner wine or another beer. He chose the beer. She left the bottle of wine on the counter.
He looked at her sideways. “You’re not having any?”
It was a great opening. Or at least, as good a one as she was likely to get. She might have gently segued into how she wasn’t having wine because she was having a baby….
But in the end she said only, “No, I’m not,” and that was it. He didn’t look at her strangely or ask if there was something she wanted to tell him. He only pulled out his chair and put his napkin across his hard thigh.
They ate. It didn’t take long.
When the meal was over, he helped her to clear the table. She was bending to put the last plate in the dishwasher when he came up behind her.
Her breath tangled inside her chest, and her skin was suddenly all prickly and hot. She shut the dishwasher door. “Coffee?” she asked as she straightened up.
“No, thanks.” He slid those big, warm hands of his under her arms and clasped her waist.
She stifled a silly, hungry little gasp. “I have these great cookies. Dark chocolate with white chocolate chips…”
He bent close. She felt the lovely heat of him. He was already hard. His erection brushed against the small of her back, making her yearn and melt for him.
“No cookies.” He brushed her hair to the side and kissed her neck.
Oh, those lips of his…
She sighed, even though she tried not to. He ran his hands slowly along the twin outward curves of her hips. Her body went molten. What was it about those hands of his, about those lips, about the feel of his body touching hers?
Chemistry.
Oh, yeah. Chemistry. So good. So right…
“Tanner,” she said on a breathy, drawn-out sigh, bringing her hand up, clasping the back of his head, pulling him closer when she should have been pushing him away. His hair was so silky, so thick. She speared her fingers into it. “Tanner…”
“Mmm…” He stuck out his tongue and licked the side of her neck. Then he nibbled where he’d licked.
She couldn’t stop herself. She wiggled back against him and he groaned, pressing himself more tightly into her, letting her feel what he wanted to give her.
Oh, she was losing it. Losing it again…She groaned in arousal and frustration.
It was the third time Crystal had set herself the task of telling him, and the third time was supposed to be the charm, wasn’t it? She’d sworn she would tell him this time, no matter what. And yet, here she was, her hands in his hair, her body arching, her neck stretched to the side for him, inviting him to kiss her there some more.
He trailed nipping kisses upward and then licked her earlobe.
“Oh, God,” she whispered.
He made a low, masculine sound of arousal and agreement. “The feel of you,” he said rough and low. “The scent of you. You drive me crazy, you know that?”
“Oh, Tanner. I know. I’m so sorry.”
He made a low sound that might have been a laugh—or a groan. “Sorry, huh?”
“It’s the same for me.”
And then those amazing hands of his were on her shoulders. He turned her until she faced him. Her body instantly curved close to him. She lifted her mouth to his, helpless at that moment to do anything else.
He still smelled faintly of smoke from the ruined lasagna. But he also smelled…delicious. So tempting in a way she could never quite define. He smelled so very masculine. It was a clean scent. A scent that drew her, that made her yearn, made her forget all over again that he was all wrong for her.
She couldn’t get enough of him; at the same time as she felt shamed deep within herself. After all, she’d sworn, she’d vowed, that tonight was going to be different from all the other nights.
Yet here she was, willingly wrapped in his arms. What a total fool she’d been to imagine it could go otherwise.
And then he kissed her. His mouth covered hers, and the last wispy remnants of the real world, of her obligation to tell him he would be a dad, floated away. There was nothing but the feel of him, the taste of him, the strength in those hard arms around her, the softness of that beautiful mouth as he kissed her.
It was long and deep and wet and wonderful, that kiss. Like all his kisses, starting from the first one, on a night in early March outside the dance studio where his niece, DeDe, had just finished a recital. They’d gone to his place that night.
Afterward, they’d talked about how the night had been just something that had to happen, something they needed to do, to get their yen for each other out of their systems.
Something they would never do again…
He raised his head—but only to slant it the other way and kiss her some more. She could never get enough of those kisses of his. It was probably pointless to even try.
But then he lifted his head a second time. And when he didn’t immediately begin kissing her again, she let her eyelids drift open.
“Tanner?”
He was looking down at her, his eyes so dark—black as a night without stars. “When I touch you, I only want to touch you some more.” His arms encircled her and his magical fingers traced erotic patterns at the base of her spine. “It’s always like this. From that first day we met—the day Candy died, remember?”
Candy was his niece’s dog. She’d been a sweet old mutt. “Yeah. I remember. I felt so sad about the dog. And DeDe was inconsolable. And then you came in…I wanted to jump you right there. I felt terrible about that. I mean, DeDe had just lost a pet she loved. And all I could think of was getting my hands on you. All over you.”
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