Reilly's Wildcard (Blackwater)

“It’s my fault,” River added, coming up behind them. “I was angry and taking it out on Reilly. He wouldn’t have said those things if he’d been thinking straight.”

She stiffened her spine, too afraid to believe either of them. “I was coming to surprise you for lunch,” she said, staring at the floor. “I wanted to tell you…” Lucy didn’t finish her statement. She couldn’t. Not now. She needed time to think. To clear her head.

“Tell me what, sweetheart?” Reilly softly asked.

“I-I need to get back to work.”

“Don’t leave it like this,” he murmured. “Come on, talk to me.”

Lucy could see the genuine anguish on Reilly’s face, but she needed some space, and if she stayed, she wouldn’t get it. “I need to get back to work.” In a firmer voice she said, “We can talk tonight.”

“I’ll meet you at your apartment at six thirty?”

She hiked her purse up higher on her shoulder. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

He kissed the top of her head and placed his hand over her abdomen. “Be careful driving, sweetheart.”

She nodded and left. She didn’t even make it to her car before the tears were streaming down her face. “Damn, damn, damn. Men suck.” She swiped them away and bit out an ugly curse as she got in behind the wheel. “He didn’t mean what he said,” she told herself as his words sank in.

But Lucy knew better. She’d been down the road of denial when she’d found out about David cheating on her. She’d thought surely there’d been a mistake then too. But there hadn’t been. The bastard. He just couldn’t keep it in his pants. The one good thing that had come out of the mess of her marriage was the realization that karma was a real bitch. As David found out firsthand when his little girlfriend had turned around and cheated on him, with a guy who made more money, of course. Lucy had wanted to laugh in his face, but since she knew how devastating it was to have your heart crushed, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Lucy pounded the memory-lane thoughts into unconsciousness and started her car. “Men definitely suck.”

Chapter Nine

Reilly leaned against Lucy’s apartment door and waited for her to get home from work. He’d shown up early, which had given him plenty of time to think of the best way to beg her forgiveness for being the biggest ass this side of Texas. Christ, how many times must he put his foot in his mouth with her before he finally learned his lesson?

When Lucy showed up, he noticed how tired she looked, and it worried him. Reilly immediately took her in his arms. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, his stomach in knots. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

God, even her voice sounded raw. Reilly pulled back enough to see her face. Her cheeks were blotchy, and her eyes were red. She looked as bad as he felt. “Won’t you talk to me, Lucy?”

“I don’t want to be hurt again,” she blurted out, her voice so soft he nearly didn’t hear. “I can’t, Reilly.”

His anger overrode his fear. “I care about you. Can’t you see that?”

She didn’t protest, didn’t come back with any smartass remarks. Just stood lifelessly in his arms. He knew the argument was too much for her. It wasn’t healthy for her or the babies to get so upset. He decided to put the conversation off until they were both a little less wound up.

“Come on,” he murmured as he took hold of her keys and opened her door for her. He let her go in ahead of him, then closed and locked the door. She put her purse on the table next to the door and didn’t protest when Reilly brought her into the bathroom. “I think a warm bath is in order. We can discuss this after you’re relaxed.”

“I can take care of myself,” she said, a note of frustration in her voice.

He sighed. “I never said you couldn’t, sweetheart.” Before she could close the door on him, he said, “I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

She nodded, then quietly closed him out. As he left to make her a pot of decaffeinated tea, he became aware of something crucial. Lucy hadn’t looked him in the eye. Not once since the argument at the restaurant.

When she emerged a half hour later looking adorable in a pair of overs

ized pink sweatpants, a baggy white T-shirt and her hair up in a towel, Reilly knew it was time to tell her how he really felt about her. That he loved her. Would always love her.

He poured her a cup of tea and put it on the table. “Sit, please. We need to clear up a few things.”

Lucy pulled out a chair and sat down. “I honestly don’t feel like talking.” She placed a hand over her stomach, and her lips thinned. “All I want is to go to bed.”

He crossed his arms and waited. “You aren’t going to bed, and you’re definitely not shutting me out anymore.” He sat across from her and said, “You’re going to start by explaining to me exactly why you can’t accept my apology. Is it so hard for you to believe that I was stupid and merely said the wrong things out of anger? Men do that. We’re idiots sometimes.”

To Reilly’s delight, a furious gleam lit Lucy’s eyes. He recognized it as a good sign. At least she felt something. The cold-shoulder treatment from her scared the hell out of him. “I refuse to be a problem, for you or anyone else,” she gritted out as she tugged the towel off her head and placed it over the back of her chair.