She wasn't showing much, but nearing the fourth month, there was no question. The silky green fabric skimmed her tiny bulge. "Supper's ready."
Rena's eyes lingered on J.T.'s shoulders—bared by a workout tank T-shirt. He could see her pupils dilate from clear across the garage. His heart rate revved in time with her rapidly rising and falling chest.
Chris snatched a towel off the hook. "Great. I'm starving. No surprise, huh?" their son rambled on in the thick silence. "Cool new clothes, Mom. Are you sure you're not carrying twins?"
Twins? Rena went as pale as he felt.
J.T. thumped his son on the chest. "Way to go charming your mother, bud. Are you trying to get us all killed?"
Chris winced. "Sorry. You, uh, look nice, Mom."
Rena gripped the railing and walked down the four steps into the garage with only a slight limp. Time was definitely running out before he would be asked to leave. Soon, she wouldn't need him.
Hell, she hadn't needed him at all since she graduated.
She stopped in front of her son, twisted a dainty fist in his shirt and tugged him down … to kiss him on top of his curly head. "You're forgiven for the twins comment, hon."
"And, uh," he stuttered, straightening, "I'm really sorry for what I said the other night." His thin arms wrapped around her for a rare teenager hug.
She patted his back with the same reassurance she'd given to lull him to sleep after toddler nightmares. "It's okay, hon."
"Thanks. Love ya, Mom." Toddler images aside, the pointed stare he shot his father over her head was definitely all man shouting, Hurt my mama again and I'll take you down. He blinked, returning to sixteen. "Catch ya' later, dudes, I'll just grab some food on my way up to my room. I gotta get some homework done. Thanks for the advice about the job stuff, Dad."
Their son's footsteps faded, but neither of them looked away from each other, her gaze still riveted on his shoulders and sweat-soaked T-shirt sticking to his chest. His eyes unable to move from the fertile curves of her body.
The primal need to protect her, have her, surged. The urge to lock that door and find new uses for the weight bench throbbed through him.
She backed, gripped the railing and found the first step. "I'll meet you inside."
The wind through the window molded her silky dress around killer legs and a gentle baby bulge.
"In a minute." Once he willed away the arousal.
Her retreat made it clear. No kiss this time.
At least he'd gotten one thing right during the talk with Chris. Chris would turn in his notice, ditch the extra delivery duties, and maybe they would use the extra time for more talks.
And since the added plans for tomorrow night's surveillance flight should net that final drug trafficking link, he would have a couple of days off to focus on his family. He could step up the pace on the romance crapshoot in hopes that someday he got it right.
Chapter 10
"No hard feelings, pal," Kurt Haugen said from behind his desk, a stuffed swordfish mounted on the wall over his head. Circling around to the front, he extended his hand for a shake. "You've always got a job here if you change your mind. I appreciate a hard worker."
Chris tried not to let his exhale of relief be too obvious. He shook hands, firm, the way his dad had taught him. "Thank you, sir."
"But I'll need you to leave now." Mr. Haugen leaned back against the big wooden desk, crossing one tasseled loafer over the other. "Once someone quits, I prefer they go right away. Not that I don't trust you. It's policy."
"Sure. No problem." Totally. He couldn't wait to get out, and this was so easy he wondered why he hadn't thought of it before. "And thanks for being cool about it. Things are really tense at home, with my mom expecting a baby and stuff."
"I hear you. I live in a house of women." He tipped a framed family photo Chris's way, the gold rim outlining a smiling trio of Dad, Mom and little girl. "It's important to take care of them, keep them happy. You go easy on your mom, and I promise you it'll all be worth it when you see that new brother or sister."
"Yeah, uh, right" He shuffled his feet, ready to close the book on his crappy first-job experience. The lifeguard gig would have to be better.
Anything would be better.
Mr. Haugen replaced the photo and pushed away from the desk. "Well, no more of my proud-dad stuff. Take care and good luck."
Nodding, Chris backed away. He couldn't haul out fast enough. And best of all, he had some time to kill before his parents would expect him home.