The Tempting Mrs. Reilly (10 page)

Brian stared after him for several long minutes. Absently, he listened to the sounds of his brothers laughing and talking trash. Then he turned his gaze on Maple Street. And for the first time, he really thought about something Liam had said.

Probably half of those tidy little houses with neat lawns and carefully tended flower beds were lived in by military families. Husband or wife—and sometimes both—lived their lives according to the Corps, going where they were told, when they were told, never sure if they were going to be coming back.

And yet…Brian listened to the sound of a dog's excited bark and a kid's delighted laughter, drifting to him on the summer breeze. Somehow, most of those families made it work for them.

Five years ago, he'd decided that he couldn't put Tina through the misery of a life dictated by military needs. He'd told himself at the time that it wasn't fair to her. Wasn't fair to expect her to pick up, pack up and move across the country, sometimes around the world, whenever his orders changed. It was too much to ask her to live alone for months at a time when he was deployed. He'd thought it wasn't right to keep
her in a marriage where her husband had a damn good chance of never coming home at all.

And he'd let her go.

For her sake.

It had cost him everything to cut Tina out of his life. And he'd felt the hollow emptiness ever since.

Now that Tina was back, he felt that emptiness even more sharply. It was a razor, slicing his soul, tearing at his heart. She'd wanted a baby.

His baby.

And he wondered if he'd made a big mistake five years ago.

Was he really the moron Liam claimed?

T
wo days later, and Brian was still thinking. Not that it was doing him much good.

He'd been able to avoid Tina so far, but that couldn't last. His ex-wife was
not
a woman to be ignored. He smiled as he remembered just the night before, her footsteps pounding up the stairs to his apartment and her voice demanding that he open the door and talk to her.

Naturally, he hadn't. He'd only shouted at her to go away and she'd left. Eventually.

But he knew damn well this armed truce couldn't last.

He pulled into the driveway, casting a quick
glance around to make sure the coast was clear. Man, what was the world coming to when a
Marine,
for God's sake, was skulking in and out of his house to avoid a woman?

Twilight was just beginning to fall and the air was a bit cooler as a soft sigh of wind drifted in off the ocean. From down the street came the unmistakable scent of a barbecue being fired up and a couple of kids were tossing a baseball in the street. Situation normal.

So why did he feel as knotted up and wired as he did when about to fly a combat mission?

The answer to that question opened up the screen door and stepped onto the porch. The two dogs hot on her heels followed after, yapping and snarling as they pelted off the porch and across the yard toward him. Presumably, they were ready to chew on what was left of his sorry butt once Tina was through with him.

She had blood in her eye and an expression of fierce determination on her face as she marched toward him. Looked like his stalling time was up. Briefly, Brian considered firing up the engine, throwing the car into gear and roaring back out of the driveway. But that smacked just a little too much of retreat, so he ignored the urge and stepped out of the car.

On the street, the kids hooted and jeered at each other as the ball flew wildly. In the yard, Muffin and Peaches were headed directly toward Brian and he imagined they were looking at him like a giant chew toy.

Then one of the kids missed a catch and the baseball shot past him, landing in the yard and rolling fast toward the flower bed. Peaches shifted direction and took off after it as though it were a gazelle and she a mighty lion. Her little feet flew and her ears flapped. She was almost on the ball when one of the kids threw a rock, hit her on a hind leg and the dog dropped with a yelp.

“Hey!” Furious, Tina shifted direction, heading for the downed dog.

Scared, the kid started backing off, but Brian was already moving to intercept. Anger pulsed through him as he heard loud whimpers from the injured dog. God knew he and the little ankle biters weren't close friends, but he wouldn't stand for one of the little dogs being hurt.

He reached the kid in a few long strides and dropped both hands on the boy's shoulders. Couldn't have been more than ten, Brian thought and right now, he was looking scared enough to cry. Good.

“What the hell are you doing?” Brian demanded.

“It's my ball, is all,” the boy said, shooting a glance at the dog now being petted and stroked by Tina, kneeling on the ground beside it.

“And you thought that little dog was going to eat it?” Brian demanded.

“No,” he said, his voice hitching close to the same note as the dog's whimper.

“You threw a
rock
at a three-pound dog,” Brian growled, using his best, put-the-fear-of-God-into-your-enemy voice.

“I didn't mean to hurt her…”

The kid's friend, Brian noted, had already deserted the field, scampering out of range of punishment or retribution. The boy still in his grasp was trembling and Brian, keeping a firm grip on one shoulder, steered him toward the yard. “What do you think your mom would have to say about you throwing rocks at animals?”

“Oh,
man,
” the kid whined pitifully. “Don't tell her, okay? I'm really sorry. Honest I am. C'mon, mister, don't tell my mom.”

Brian heard the desperation and could appreciate it. When he and his brothers were ten, there wasn't anything they wouldn't have done to get out of letting their parents know they'd screwed up. “All right, I won't. But, you're going to go check on that dog. Make sure she's all right.
Then
you're going to apologize to the lady. Then you can have your ball back.”

The boy blew out a relieved breath, then ran the back of his hand under his nose and sniffed dramatically. Every step dragged through the grass as if it were thick mud, sucking him down. He kept his head lowered and shot a wary glance up at Brian before shifting his gaze to Tina.

“I didn't mean to hurt her,” he said and his voice shook a little.

“Then you shouldn't have thrown a rock,” she said tightly.

“I'm really sorry.” He went down on one knee next to the little dog and petted her head gently. Looking at Tina he promised, “I won't ever do it again, I swear.”

Tina glanced at Brian and he smiled, nodding. He figured the kid was scared enough to make good on his word. And after all, what kid
didn't
throw a rock at the wrong time at one point in his life?

“All right then,” Tina said, as she watched Peaches lick the boy's hand. “If Peaches can forgive you, so can I.”

“Thanks, lady,” the boy said, reaching for his ball and standing up again. He lifted his chin and met Brian's steely stare with more courage than he'd shown before. “I
am
sorry, y'know.”

“Yeah,” Brian said, jerking his head toward the street. “Go on.”

The kid ran—as if he might not get a second chance at escape. Brian watched him, baggy jeans, torn sneakers and faded T-shirt, as he sprinted for his own house and safety. And just for a minute, Brian wondered what it would be like to have a child of his own.

Which of course, brought him full circle, right back to where he'd started.

He thought about the night with Tina and the chances of their having made a baby. And for the first time, that possibility felt real. He could almost see
the kid's face. A fascinating combination of his and Tina's features. Unexpectedly, a curl of something warm unwound inside him.

A baby.

Brian Reilly,
father
.

And the notion of that didn't seem as weird, or terrifying as it had a couple of days ago.

“Ooh,” Tina said, “I wanted to shake him so badly.”

“He's pretty shook already,” Brian said, going down on one knee in the grass. “How's the dog?”

“She's all right,” Tina said. “It wasn't a very big rock, thank heaven.”

Muffin sidled up close to Brian and leaned into him. Without even thinking about it, he stroked her cream-colored curls. Peaches slipped out from under Tina's gentle hand and trotted to Brian, too. Planting both front feet on his knee, she sat down and stared up at him in adoration.

He looked down at the dogs who'd been the bane of his existence for years and couldn't believe it. Neither one of them was trying to go for his jugular.

“Looks like they're in love,” Tina quipped.

Brian's gaze snapped to hers. “What?”

“You're their hero, apparently.”

He frowned at the two tiny dogs.

They sighed.

“Oh, this is weird.”

“You'd rather they were snarling at you?”

“At least I know what to expect then.”

“And that's important?” Tina asked.

He looked at her again. “I don't like surprises.”

“Brian—“

He cut her off. “Tina, I don't want to talk about it again.”

“Again?” she countered. “We haven't talked about it
yet.
”

Peaches tried to crawl up his body, so Brian gently picked her up and set her back down again. Muffin leaned harder against him.

Brian tried to ignore the dogs and focus on the woman watching him. He could already see the fires of indignation beginning to kindle in her eyes and he braced himself. “Fine. Can we at least take this inside?”

“You bet.” She jumped to her feet, snapped her fingers and said, “C'mon, girls.”

Neither dog moved.

“Muffin? Peaches?”

Brian scowled at the little animals.

They sighed.

He sighed, too, as he stood up and the dogs fell into step behind him. He headed for the front porch, ignoring the stupefied expression on Tina's face as he and his entourage walked to the house.

 

“I'm sorry I tricked you,” Tina blurted the minute they were in the door.

“Old news,” Brian said, walking past her to the
couch where he sat down and winced as both dogs jumped into his lap at once.

Tina frowned at the three of them. The dogs, the little traitors, had shifted their affections to him and she felt like a complete outsider, now. She buried the irritation and took a seat on the sofa opposite him.

“Old or not, I wanted you to know that I've thought about it and I realize that it was wrong of me to do it.”

“Thanks,” he said, shoving both dogs off his lap and leaning forward, his forearms on his knees. “But that doesn't change the fact that we have to deal with the consequences.”

“So businesslike,” she murmured, shaking her head. “Very admirable.”

“Would you rather I shout and stomp around the room?”

“Actually?” she mused, “Yes.”

“Already did that,” he pointed out. “Didn't change anything.”

“Look, Brian,” she said, hating the calm, indifferent tone of his voice. She'd much rather have one of their legendary arguments. An Irish temper and an Italian temper could get pretty loud when they clashed. But the making up had always been worth the storm. “I meant what I said the other night. If I am pregnant—“

He winced and she tried not to notice.

“—then I'll deal with it myself. You don't have to—“

“Just stop right there,” he demanded and shifted when Peaches made a try for his lap again. “If you're pregnant, then it's
our
baby and
we
deal with it.”

“How do you mean
deal
?”

“Take care of it, of course. What the hell do you think I mean?” His temper spiked a little and Tina immediately felt better.

“I can raise a child, Brian,” she said.

“Not my child. Not alone.”

For one brief second, Tina entertained the notion that just maybe he'd missed her as much as she'd missed him. That maybe he was going to suggest that they might still work this out. That there was a future for the two of them after all.

And when that heartbeat of time passed, reality struck.

“I've been thinking about this,” he said. “For two days now. And if you're pregnant, I can make arrangements.”

Wary now, she asked, “What kind of arrangements?”

“Well,” he said, in an abstracted tone, almost as if he were thinking aloud and didn't really like his thoughts very much. “I could leave the Corps. Take a civilian job. For one of the airlines.”

“What?”
Tina stood up and looked down at him. “You can't leave the Marines.”

“I admit it's not my first choice, but—“

“Brian, don't be stupid. Being a Marine isn't your job. It's who you
are
.”

Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet. “Tina—“

“No,” she said, cutting him off before he could get started. “I would never ask you to leave the Corps. I know what it means to you. And I would never want you to be less than you are.”

He pushed one hand along the side of his head. “Families are hard enough under the best of circumstances,” he muttered. “But military families have a tougher road than most.”

She stared at him as if she'd never seen him before. Where was this coming from?

“I've seen families splintered,” he said tightly. “My friends, leaving their wives for months at a time. The spouse of a Marine gets all the crap jobs. Handling cross-country or around-the-world moves alone. Raising kids, paying bills, worrying about every damn thing all on their own.” He started pacing and as he walked, the words bubbled up and out of him as if they'd been dammed up for way too long and just had to escape. “There's no one there to help, you know? It's hard. And that's not even counting all the worrying. Money's tight and housing stinks. You get deployed to danger zones all over the world and
sometimes can't even tell your wife where the hell you are.”

“Brian—” She stood stock still and followed him with her gaze.

He held up one hand and kept talking. “There's long hours and a lot of alone time. It's a hard life, and I wanted you to have better. I wanted you to be happy, and didn't want to think about you doing without or being alone or spending your whole damn life worrying about me and where I was and—“

Tina trembled. She felt twin waves of regret and fury rock through her as she listened to the man she loved tell her exactly why he'd ended their marriage five years before. He may have started out talking about their current situation, but she knew damn well, he'd somehow drifted back and was finally giving her the answers she'd wanted so badly five years ago.

Now that she had those answers though, she was furious.

“Are you telling me,” she said, loudly enough to interrupt him at last, “that you divorced me because you wanted me to be
happy
?”

He stopped pacing and shot her a look. “Yes,” he said. “I did it for you.”

“You moron.”

“You know,” he said, every word ground out from between clenched jaws, “that's the second time this
week somebody's called me a moron. Don't much like it.”

“Don't much care,” Tina snapped, stalking around the edge of the sofa to walk straight up to him. She stopped only inches from him and jabbed him in the chest with an index finger. “You divorced me for my own sake?
You
decided that I wouldn't be a good Marine wife?”