Heartsong (Singing to the Heart Book 2) (22 page)

Gabe had hired a private investigator to find the stripper, but so far he was coming up with nothing.

She turned away from the bedroom window and headed downstairs. As she walked into the kitchen, Florencia Hernandez was watching the small TV sitting in the corner of the counter while she made breakfast for them. The tall, middle-aged Hispanic woman Gabe had hired to be the family’s housekeeper was also a registered nurse, whom Micki discovered had worked in a Dallas hospice until burnout forced her to change careers about five years ago. Her husband had died a year ago, leaving her with two kids in college. Micki liked the quiet, unassuming woman, who spoke flawless English and preferred to go by the nickname Flo.

As Micki slid onto a barstool at the breakfast island, she took one of Flo’s whole grain blueberry muffins from a plate. She picked a piece off the golden brown top and popped it into her mouth. Her stomach churned as if it were going to eat itself.

On the TV, a pretty blond special interest reporter from one of the local stations stood in front of the gate of the Lazy M. In the distant background, the white two-story house stood surrounded by trees and pastures enclosed with white rail fencing. The wind picked up and the trees and winter grass in the fields swayed behind the reporter. If the house wasn’t the one she was currently living in, she may not have recognized it.

The wind tossed the reporter’s hair into her face. “The drama coming from the latest scandal involving country superstar Gabe McKenna is heating up.” Micki’s heart skipped a beat as the reporter’s face flashed away and a photo of Gabe and her from the red carpet at the
CMA
s popped onto the screen. “A source within the McKenna camp reported that his new bride was devastated by the news that Gabe and Las Vegas stripper Lydia Greenhow have a daughter together. The newlyweds have separated.” Another picture flashed on screen; this one was from over a year and half ago and featured a candid shot of Gabe with Lydia at a Las Vegas club. Micki swallowed against the bile rising into her throat at thought of Gabe and the stripper together. “The source also told us Lydia is in hiding out of fear of Gabe, who threatened to take her baby away and bribed her with a monetary payout if she signed custody papers giving the seven-month-old to the country star. We were able to verify this report from public documents filed at Davidson County Tennessee on November tenth.”

Micki had enough and got up to leave the kitchen, but the reporter’s next words stopped her. “As we reported before, Gabe and his wife are in the middle of a strange custody battle with her estranged father, Texas billionaire Lemont Finn, over Gabe’s ten-year-old brother, who is also Michaela McKenna’s nephew.” The reporter smiled and brushed her long, wind-blown hair out of her face. “Confused yet? I know we are as today we got information that Michaela Finn McKenna may not be who she says she is. A source in the Lemont Finn camp has brought to our attention that the businessman is again raising the question about his daughter’s paternity. The first time was twenty-eight years ago when he filed for divorce from former barrel racing champion Loretta Cartwright Finn. It is yet unclear what Mr. Finn wishes to achieve from this most recent accusation since the man Loretta Finn had been accused of having an affair with died over eight years ago.”

Flo violently whipped pancake batter and shook her head. “I can’t believe they won’t let you and your mother alone.”

The queasy feeling amplified, turning the muffin in her stomach to stone, and the bile rose a little farther into her throat. Damn, what did those old rumors have to do with anything? None of them were even true. Her mother had never cheated on her father. On the screen, an old photograph of Momma from her mother’s barrel racing days and the rodeo cowboy her father had accused her of sleeping with replaced the reporter’s face. In the faded picture, Loretta smiled up at bull rider Jock Blackwell, a much older man she’d known from her hometown of Colton, Texas, as she presented him with a huge buckle at some rodeo.

“Why are they dragging my acquaintance with Jock Blackwell into this mess?” At her mother’s pained voice, Micki turned away from the TV. She’d been so engrossed in the report she hadn’t heard Momma coming into the kitchen. Momma stopped her motorized wheelchair by the edge of the island and fisted her hands in her lap. “The man is dead and gone.”

Micki was wondering the same thing when a thought came to her. “Momma. I think Lemont is worried.” She slid off the barstool and bent to kiss her mother’s forehead. “I think it’s time Gabe and I share a holiday together.”

Momma had been right. If they wanted to show the world their relationship was strong and could weather any storm, the last thing they needed was to be apart right now. She needed Gabe to come home.

Lemont was worried about something. Early in this mess with Lydia and the baby, the
source
from his camp had released to the tabloids his belief that Micki and Gabe had married solely for the hope of their union persuading the judge to give them custody. Micki had felt the blood leave her face when she’d read it, but the ironic thing had been the reporter totally discredited the rumor by offering her version of the truth: Either Micki was pregnant and they married out of obligation, or, according to the author of the article, it was more likely Gabe and Micki had rekindled their old flame. The reporter’s proof had been to embed a video of the love song he’d sung to her at the
CMA
s into the report.

With the truth being discredited, why else drag in the old rumor her father couldn’t prove now any more than he had been able to during his and her mother’s divorce, unless he wanted the judge to have the idea that Micki may not be Jesse’s aunt when the custody case was revisited in a few weeks?

She was halfway up the stairs to call Gabe when the queasiness she’d felt since waking up that morning turned into full-fledged nausea. Hurrying into the master bedroom, she made it to the bathroom just in time before she vomited up the meager contents of her stomach.

Damn, the last thing she needed now was to catch the stomach virus going around.

Putting up with Gabe over Thanksgiving and in Las Vegas when they went to the NFR was going to be hard enough.

She turned from the toilet to the sink and splashed cool water onto her face. As she wiped it away with a plush towel, she met her gaze in the mirror. “Time to get the lovey-dovey on.”

She and Gabe calculated and planned everything. From the time he flew into Dallas to her meeting him at the airport Wednesday afternoon. Waiting for him outside the security zone, she frowned as a man whistled at her and wished she hadn’t taken her mother’s suggestion to dress sexy.

Paparazzi were in the crowd, which she and Gabe had wanted, but she hated the short dress she wore. Although she didn’t like spending his money, her mother talked her into buying a designer dress. Now she stood in the crowded airport with people staring at her in a flirty, cotton dress that cost more than it was worth, a denim jacket, and her red Tony Lamas. She fought the urge to fidget as she watched Gabe approach. He stopped in front of her and set his bags on the floor. In the next beat, he caught her up in his embrace and kissed her.

She’d known it was coming, but the intensity of the kiss took her breath away. Wrapping her arms around him, she held on, kissing him back with the same urgency, and hated that none of her actions were part of the charade. She’d missed him and wanted him.

When he pulled away, his amber-brown eyes glowed hot in the bright florescent light of the airport. “Damn, I’ve missed you.”

Cameras flashed around them and she had an insane thought. She leaned in and whispered into his ear, “Please put me down. As short as this dress is, my butt is probably sticking out.”

He let her slide down against him and grinned. “I definitely don’t want that cute ass of yours in the news. No one better see it but me.”

Excitement shivered through her at his implication. But she pushed the desire and trepidation of having sex with her husband away as the two ranch hands, who’d come with her, moved in to take his bags. Gabe shook their hands, then wrapped his arm around her waist to steer her out of the airport.

Once they were in the back of the same deep-blue BMW that had driven them to the airport after their wedding, Micki took a deep breath and tried to relax, but all she got was a nose full of Gabe’s delicious, spicy scent. How could she still want him after everything that had happened?

He watched her for a few moments, then furrowed his brow. “How’ve you been holding up?”

She met his concerned gaze and shrugged. “Okay. I guess. Any word about Lydia?”

With a shake of his head, he glanced out the side window. “No. The PI hasn’t been able to find her.”

“Do you think the idea of giving up the baby scared her?” She’d asked him this question last week, but he hadn’t answered her.

He looked back at her. “I’m beginning to wonder if she ran after we did the paternity test because she knew how it would turn out. I’ve been thinking hard about the coincidence of it all. The lab lost the samples and she disappeared. Then the TMZ report came out all at the same time. It’s too calculated not to have been planned.”

She gasped at the idea. “But by who?”

He snorted and shook his head. “Who has the most to gain by all of this?”

“You think Lemont is behind it?” Her father was a heartless bastard and had a long reach, but what Gabe suggested seemed too farfetched even for Lemont.

With a shrug, he ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. But I don’t believe for a moment that baby is mine. Because I can’t prove it and can’t find the woman feeding the reporters with stories that make me sound like a kidnapper, I’m beginning to wonder if he didn’t put her up to this sham.”

* * * *

Gabe didn’t expect Micki to invite him into her bed, but that night as they stood in the hallway and said “Goodnight,” he felt a pang of regret when she didn’t ask him to stay in her room. Sleep didn’t come easily. He stayed up trying to figure out what he could do to change Michaela’s mind about wanting a divorce.

By the time the cold, gray, and rainy morning of Thanksgiving dawned, he’d decided he had to lay everything out on the line. If he wanted her, he had to let her in on his secrets; then maybe she could face hers.

He made his bed, putting the room back as he’d found it. Flo wasn’t in on their deception and he wanted to keep it that way. Not that he didn’t trust her, but the fewer people who knew the truth about why he and Michaela married the better. After using the bathroom down the hall, he headed to the master bedroom. Sounds of an occasional clang from the kitchen drifted up the stairs. Flo must be preparing the turkey and fixing breakfast. Delicious spicy aromas filled the air with the promise of pumpkin pie and cranberry muffins. His stomach growled.

Before his hunger derailed him, he knocked on Micki’s door, then opened it to slip into the room. From the bathroom, the shower turned on and her less-than-perfect singing voice greeted him. A smile tugged at his lips and his heart warmed when he recognized the song. He couldn’t help but sing along. “Heaven Tonight”
was his second hit song, and he’d written it when they’d started dating as teenagers.

With a grimace as she sang the chorus completely off key, he headed to the bathroom. He stripped off his pajama pants and entered the steamy room. Behind the frosted glass of the shower door, Michaela’s provocative, silhouetted movements as she washed her body sent a jolt through him, causing his semi-hard cock to stiffen to full attention.

He took a deep, moist breath filled with the sweet fragrance of summer jasmine, then opened the sliding door of the shower, singing the words of the song that she now hummed.

She whirled around at his intrusion, her mouth open and her eyes wide. Foamy bubbles dappled her skin in enticing areas, making him want her even more.

“Gabe!” She let out a breath. “Damn you. You scared me to death.”

He suspected she was more embarrassed that he’d caught her singing his love song in the shower than scared. With a snort, he reached over to turn the heat down a bit. She loved the water temperature set at scalding. Wrapping his other arm around her slick body, he chuckled and pulled her to him. “Were you expecting someone else?”

She pushed at his chest without force. “No. But I wasn’t expecting you. What are you doing?”

He nuzzled her neck and sucked on her wet earlobe. She rewarded him with a shudder despite the heat of the water raining down on them. In her ear, he whispered, “Water conservation.”

Before she had a chance to retort, he brought his mouth to hers and kissed her. She fisted her hands where they lay on his chest and opened her mouth under his. As she snaked her arms around his neck, she moaned. She held him to her as their tongues plunged, tasted, and danced. He pressed her back against the sandy-colored tile of the shower wall and moved his hand down her side to the hot, moist folds of her sex. With a groan, she slid her leg up and along his outer thigh to hook it on his hip in blatant invitation. As she sucked on his tongue, he palmed her and teased her clitoris.

She broke the kiss and panted. Lolling her head back, she closed her eyes. “Oh, Gabe. I’ve missed you.”

His heart skipped a beat at her beauty. He wanted to be inside her. Now.

Moving his hands under her firm little butt, he lifted her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he thrust into her. When she cried out, he paused to allow her to get accustomed to him.

“God, you’re so tight and hot,” he rasped into her neck. “I want you so bad I can’t think straight.”

She answered with a loud moan that may have been his name, then held on to his shoulders and used the slickness of the wall and their bodies to move with him. He hit deeper and deeper with each thrust until he couldn’t hold back much longer. “Michaela, baby, come for me.”

“Yes… Gabe…” She clenched around him as her orgasm quaked through her.

“Michaela…” He tensed his body as he thrust into her one last time, the burn of white-hot pleasure turning him inside out as he emptied into her. “I love you.”