His Touch (23 page)

Kara put her hands on her hips. “Yeah, dude, are you?”

“Yeah. I am.” He turned to the man. “Your hands clean and dry?”

“Uh…”

“Great. Hold the baby.”

The guy’s jaw dropped while Reid carefully transferred a sleeping Nadia into his arms.

“Kara, yes.”

“Yes?”

“Definitely yes.” He took her in his arms and kissed her soundly, deeply, and thoroughly for a long, long moment. When they finally broke apart for air, he hugged her tightly and whispered a promise in her ear. “Parenthood still scares the hell out me, Kara. But I promise you I won’t run ever again.”

*

It began raining
just as they reached Kara’s building. Nadia was still sleeping so they decided to leave her in her stroller.

“She’s going to be wild when she wakes up,” Kara warned him.

“We’ll deal.” Reid shrugged. “Now. Come here.” He tugged her down to the sofa and into his lap. “What changed your mind?” His hands stroked her face, her arms, her shoulders and as much as she wanted to peel the clothes off his body, she knew he needed to hear all of it.

“You did.”

His hands went still. “Me?”

“Yes. That day, in the park? You said
we
.”

Puzzled, he angled his head. “What?”

“You said
we
were worried right before you called Dr. Tully yourself.”

“Oh.” He shook his head and shrugged.

Exasperated, Kara blurted out all of it. “Oh, Reid. It’s you. All of you. Everything. It’s medicine and a blanket fort and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with no crust and a new tooth and
Sweet Caroline
. You sang to my daughter. You know exactly what she needs even when I don’t.”

“I beg to differ. I sang her Sweet Nadia.”

“My mistake.” She laughed. “It’s saggy tits and a dimpled butt and how excited they make you. It’s the way your eyes get wide and dark when you stare at my mouth. It’s the way you laugh.”

He sat, mute, while she rambled on.

Kara took a deep breath. “You’re already part of me, part of my life and my daughter’s. Who else but you would call my sister and all of my friends because you knew I needed them even if I didn’t want them? You were so scared and even then, you thought of us.” She quickly sobered and laid a hand on his cheek. “I was scared, too, Reid. But I thought only of myself. If you can forgive me for that, I’ll spend the rest of my life convincing you I love you.”

“I know.”

She feigned insult. “Oh, you do?”

“Yeah. Look.” He took out his phone and cued up a video. “The men’s room guy shared this.”

Kara watched the video of her proposal, Reid’s stunned face, and their final big kiss. When they pulled apart, she watched her eyes link to his and a wide smile set her face aglow.

“There it is. Right there.” He tapped Pause. “That, baby, is a Look.”

She laughed and kissed him soundly because he was right. There was indeed a look, one she knew would be on her face every time she looked at him.

Nadia whimpered in her stroller, sat up, looked miserably at them and let out another shriek.

“I’ll get her,” Reid offered.

“Okay. I’ll get her some soft food.”

They got up, walked to opposite ends of the apartment, partners working toward the same goal.

One that would keep them together for always.

‡

“S
ign here and
here.” The lawyer shifted the stack of papers.

It was a cold blustery day in December. Nadia would be two years old in a few days. Reid had already decided on her birthday gift…if he could convince her mom that every little girl needed a kitten, of course. He signed on the spaces the attorney indicated and gave her back the pen.

She smiled at him. “That’s it.”

Reid gave her a sideways look. “You’re kidding.”

“I never kid about the law.” She took the papers, put them in a folder and zipped them into her case. “We’ll file for a new birth certificate, which will take a while, but yeah, it’s official. You have a daughter. Merry Christmas.”

On cue, Nadia clapped her hands. “I love you, Daddy!”

Unable to speak, Reid lifted his eyebrow at the woman who’d become his wife at an intimate ceremony held on September 11
^th
. Kara merely smiled. “We’ve been practicing.”

He grinned and held out his arms to the squirming tot and held her close. He looked at the people assembled in the room with them. His parents, his sisters and his partner, Gene—and Kara’s circle of friends and honorary aunts, her father and siblings—Jesus, he had in-laws. He was still trying to get used to that. They were all here for him, for his family.

Family
.

The word, the mere thought of it, increased the size of the lump in his throat that Nadia’s happy words had created. He coughed once, cleared his throat and addressed them all. “Everybody, this is my daughter. Nadia Marie Bennett.” Applause rang out and Nadia clapped her little hands while a few dozen cell phone cameras captured their smiles.

Reid’s eyes found Kara’s and held. Soon, they’d make another announcement and their family would grow. But not today.

Today was for Nadia.

Their daughter.

The End

A Match Made at Christmas

Patty Blount

Copyright © 2014

N
ew York never
changed.

Elena Larsen stood beside her friend’s Zipcar and took a good look around. The crowds, the traffic, the smell of street vendor chestnuts floating on the cold December air. It was all exactly the way she remembered.

“Laney, I am so glad you finally joined us this year.” Cassandra gave her a reproving look.

“
You’re
glad?” Elena laughed. “I single-handedly saved the economy. My checkbook will never recover.” From the car, she hauled two shopping bags that strained their handles.

“Hey, it’s Christmas. ’Tis the season for checkbook abuse.” Cass walked around the car and grabbed her in a tight hug. “If you let another decade go before visiting us again, I will hunt you down and kill you.”

Elena hugged back but made no promises. New York may have been home at one time, but now it held only bad memories.

“I have to run. Give Kara a kiss and a belly rub for me, okay? Bye!” With one last wave and a blown kiss, Cass was back in traffic, a cab driver offering his opinion of her driving with a raised finger and a blare of his horn. Cassandra Baines was the quintessential New Yorker—a study in contradictions, a mix of urban polish and take-no-crap attitude. Kara, Elena’s sister, was even more so. Elena had no doubt attempting to rub her sister’s pregnant belly would get her hand slapped—which, she concluded with a wry grin, was probably why Cass had suggested it. She shook her head with a laugh. Damn, it had been good to see her—really good.
Thirteen years is too long for friends to go without real, face to face contact,
Cassandra had scolded her when she’d first seen her. Elena tamped down the guilt that flared in her gut—she’d
had
to leave.

She simply couldn’t bear New York City after that day.

She hefted her luggage—a huge suitcase on wheels and a small laptop bag—over a patch of snow and did her best not to look south.

She looked.

And realized she’d been wrong. New York
had
changed.

The spire of One World Trade Center glinted in the sun and she felt a tug on her heart that she’d never expected to feel. She hadn’t been in Manhattan since she was fourteen years old and despite the scar on the skyline, there was something here that still whispered
home
.

Elena stood and stared and was abruptly bumped from behind. Unbalanced by the bags clutched in her hands, she couldn’t stop the fall, and landed in a heap in the same mound of snow she’d tried to avoid. “Hey—” she protested, but a strong voice overpowered hers.

“Hey! Watch it!” A man shouted at the guy who’d shoved her, but it did no good. The obnoxious guy never looked back. The stranger bent to her, held out a bare hand. “Are you okay?”

Elena looked up into the face of the man who’d come to her aid. Dark hair curled over the edges of a knit hat, framing dark eyes that glinted with annoyance and concern. His cheeks were ruddy from the frigid air and his mouth, just the shape of it, made her own drop open with a little gasp.

Oh, wow.

She watched, hypnotized, for a long moment until that mouth curled. “Miss? I’ll ask again, are you okay?”

Elena gave herself a little shake and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine, just—just really pissed off.”

The stranger grinned and Elena’s breath clogged in her lungs. His mouth was enticing when it was pressed into a tight, annoyed line but when he smiled, it was damn near lethal.

When he smiled, something changed.

Fluttered.

Clicked.

She shivered and shook off the sensation, placing her gloved hand in his without thinking. Suddenly, she was upright with no memory of how she’d gotten there. Her rescuer was large.

Tall.

Broad.

Yet she felt completely safe in his hands. She blinked and swayed, and he shifted his hands to her shoulders. A delicious warmth spread over her.

“You’re sure you’re not hurt?”

She jerked, nodded. “No. Uh, yes, I mean I’m good.”
Jeez
. She couldn’t remember how to form words. His smile was intoxicating. Perfect teeth, just the right shade of white between
loves coffee
and
Osmond cousin
bracketed by honest-to-God dimples—the last time Elena saw dimples this cute, a boy had smiled at her only to vanish into the crowd gathered to honor the victims lost on September 11th. She thought he was an angel who’d stopped her from doing something even worse than what had already happened. He’d tucked something into her hand, something that caught the sun, a bit of light that cut through all that darkness.

A snowflake. A crystal snowflake ornament. She’d kept it all these years and still wasn’t sure if she’d imagined the boy who’d given it to her. The man in front of her wasn’t him—couldn’t be him—he wasn’t as tall for one thing. Looking up at that boy had put a crick in her neck. But he sure reminded her of him. Oh, she could happily spend the rest of her life staring at this man’s smile.

“Miss?” He shifted, obviously uncomfortable with her scrutiny and she crashed back to the present, mortified that she was still holding him.

“Oh. Sorry.”

She hurried to pick up the shopping bags and when she reached for the luggage handle, he shook his head. “I’ll help you.”

“It’s okay, I can manage.” She gave it a small tug.

“I’m sure you can. But I’ll help you anyway. Where do you need to go?” He tugged back.

Frustration, embarrassment, and just plain anxiety at being back in New York frayed Elena’s last threads of patience. “I said I can manage. Thanks for your help. I can take it from here.”

The man studied her. She studied him back. He was big—easily six feet with broad shoulders and narrow hips. He wore a dark jacket with a scarf looped around his neck. To her total surprise, he laughed and held up his hands in surrender. “Obviously, you’re a native New Yorker home for the holidays.” He handed over her bags.

Home
.

The word stabbed through her heart and she rubbed her chest where the wound still stung. They’d left home not long after the towers fell and moved to Virginia, where the house was nice enough, if you liked old Victorians. And she supposed the Georgia house had charm. The Florida house was big, even had a pool. But her dad never stayed long in the jobs that took him and what was left of their family from state to state. Maybe that was why all those houses had felt more like hotels than home.

No. No, that wasn’t why.

It was because her mother wasn’t with them. She was lost here, in New York—a whisper on the wind that blew across lower Manhattan.

Her grave.

Elena forced a smile. “Yes.” She turned to leave.

“I’ll walk you to where you’re going.”

Elena shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m here.” She jerked a thumb at the building behind them. “My sister’s place.”