“You’re a good man.”

He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. Dark intensity pushed through the cool look in his eyes and hinted at a pain deep inside. “There are things you don’t know, Kate.”

“There are things I do know, Joe.” She put her hand on his arm and saw something flicker in his expression. “I was wrong not to trust you with J.T. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“So you’re going to allow me to spend unsupervised time with my son?”

“As much as you want,” she confirmed. “He deserves to know his father. Because you are a good man.”

She started to walk away and felt his strong fingers on her wrist. When he tugged her into his arms, the heat in his eyes stole the air from her lungs.

“If I were a good man, I wouldn’t have been thinking about this. Let alone do it in a hospital.”

He lowered his head and captured her lips….

Dear Reader,

Have you ever wondered about the guy who made you contemplate happily-ever-after, but for whatever reason things didn’t work out? What would you do if that man suddenly showed up on your doorstep?

In When a Hero Comes Along, this is the dilemma facing Kate Carpenter. Dashing Marine Corps helicopter pilot Joe Morgan abruptly broke things off with her before going overseas, then rekindles the relationship because of their baby. She never stopped caring about him, but his rejection hurt so very much she’s determined not to go down that road again. Instead, for the sake of their child, they’re forced to follow a different path—one that eventually leads to love.

When a Hero Comes Along is for all of us who remember the one who makes us sometimes think about what might have been. For me, that one was named Joe.

Enjoy!

Teresa Southwick

When A Hero Comes Along
Teresa Southwick

www.millsandboon.co.uk

TERESA SOUTHWICK

lives with her husband in Las Vegas, the city that reinvents itself every day. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Silhouette Books.

To all the men and women in the U.S. military—

past and present.

Your service and sacrifice are deeply appreciated.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter One

It wasn’t every day a man had the chance to come back from the dead.

More to the point, Marine Captain Joe Morgan had come back from hell. He knew what it felt like to face off with a cold-eyed terrorist who hated his guts and was determined to kill him. He knew what he’d done to keep from being killed and that secret would go with him to his grave, where it belonged.

Now he had to face Kate Carpenter, although she probably hated his guts, too. She had good reason, but he still had to see her. And his baby boy. He had to explain.

And here he was on her doorstep.

He lifted a hand to knock, then curved his fingers into a fist. Maybe he should have called first, he thought, running his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t one for putting things off. Mostly. Sooner or later they had to see each other. Although he’d been standing here for five minutes without knocking. Glancing around the apartment complex, he didn’t see anyone moving around.

The pathways through the rock-and-shrub landscaping were well-lit. He’d specifically timed this meeting for nineteen-thirty hours, seven-thirty at night, because it was early enough not to be too late, and late enough that he figured she’d be home. And with any luck not so late that she’d shut the door in his face.

But if he stood here much longer, anyone watching would wonder if he was up to no good. He probably was no good, enough to show up here anyway.

He ran a hand through his hair again, then pressed the doorbell, but he heard nothing and wondered if that was due to thick walls or a broken doorbell. Or was he broken? War was a noisy business; it took all kinds of tolls. Maybe his hearing had suffered.

But he’d passed his flight physical and could hardly wait to get back to the business of flying for his half of Southwestern Helicopter Service. The fact that his bastard of a brother owned the other half wasn’t something he could think about now.

Inside the apartment a shadow passed the window and he heard light footsteps on the other side of the door. If Kate was as smart as he thought, she’d be peeking through the peephole. Assuming she could reach it. It had been fourteen months, but he hadn’t forgotten how small and slender she was. He was six feet tall, yet she’d fitted perfectly against him, and the thought made him ache deep down inside.

Several moments passed and he realized his heart was racing. Between Afghanistan and Kate Carpenter, his ticker was getting a pretty good workout. But any second now the suspense would be over.

Any second.

Now.

He waited, but nothing happened. Was she standing there? Did she see him? What if she didn’t open the door? Could he really blame her?

He really should have called first.

“Kate?” He knocked lightly on the door. “It’s Joe. Morgan,” he added. In case she didn’t remember him.

He didn’t think that was likely. Not after the letter and what she’d said in it. But he knew from personal experience that women could turn the right memories off when they wanted to do wrong.

Inside, a chain scraped just before the dead bolt clicked and Kate opened the door. She didn’t say anything, just stared up at him, eyes wide, full lips parted slightly in shock. That was something he recognized. Shock was protection for mind and body—a time-out until the two were strong enough to handle trauma. He’d never actually thought of himself as a trauma. Not consciously. But now he realized he hadn’t called because he was afraid she would hang up on him. Refuse to see or talk to him.

Now that she was close enough for him to feel the warmth of her skin, he knew how badly he’d needed to see and talk to her. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her eyes were huge and his memories hadn’t done them justice. At first glance he’d call them brown. But a closer look showed flecks of gold, reminding him that when she looked into the sun her eyes turned almost green. She was still small, and with clothes on it was hard to tell, but he would swear she was curvier than the last time he’d held her—made love to her.

Brown hair hung in shiny layers to her shoulders, and was still the same as when he’d run his fingers through it and kissed her until her breath was a sigh of surrender. Then her eyes had turned green and the sun had had nothing to do with it. But she wasn’t smiling now and he longed to see the dimples he knew would magically appear when the corners of her mouth turned up.

“Kate?”

She gasped, as if his voice brought her out of shock. “Joe,” she whispered. “I—I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“Surprise.” He shrugged, then hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his worn jeans and leaned against the doorjamb.

“What are you doing here?”

That wasn’t what he’d expected, yet it provided his first clue that he’d had a script of this meeting. In his head there had been smiles, dimples, hugs and—if he was really lucky—maybe a tear or two—followed by a heartfelt declaration of how glad she was that he’d come home.

“I wanted to see you.”

“Why?”

He wanted to think this was shock talking, but he knew better. She’d been hurt when he’d abruptly told her they were over. She hadn’t understood that it was for the best and he hadn’t explained why he felt that way.

“I got the letter,” he said.

“I wasn’t sure.” Her chin lifted. “You didn’t write back.”

“There’s a reason for that—”

“It doesn’t matter.” Her full lips pressed tightly together for a moment. “You made it clear that I was nothing more than a fling. We had fun. Just an affair.”

A hot and steamy affair, he thought. Instant attraction that had burst into flame. They couldn’t get enough of each other. But she was right. He had made it clear they were over, unfortunately, his memories were not. And one of his most vivid was of the last time he’d seen her, when she’d been wearing nothing more than a sheet and a pair of dimples. Then he’d dumped her and the dimples had disappeared.

“I remember what I said.”

“Then you remember you told me not to bother waiting. That I shouldn’t expect—”

“About expecting…” he said.

She looked down for a moment, then met his gaze. “I—I only wrote because I thought you had a right to know—”

This is where the whole right and wrong thing tweaked his tail rotor. “How soon did you know?”

Something like guilt flickered in her eyes. “What is it you’re asking?”

“Whether you were going to tell me at all.”

“I did have some conflict about that,” she admitted. “I—”

“Can we discuss this inside?” He glanced at the apartment doors on either side of hers. “Let me go out on a limb here and point out that you probably don’t want the neighbors eavesdropping on this conversation.”

She caught her lip between her teeth and her expression told him she was seriously thinking about turning him down. Then she stepped back and pulled the door wide. “Okay. Come in.”

Before she could change her mind, he walked inside. From where he stood he could see a kitchen and dining area with a French door that led to a small patio. The walls were painted light gold with white crown molding and six-paneled doors. Neutral beige carpet. But the painting of wine bottles and the decorative wrought-iron plate rack personified Kate. It was cute and charming and colorful.

He turned and looked down at her. In her snug jeans and a scoop-necked T-shirt that hugged every curve, she almost made him forget that he wanted to know why she’d waited so long to tell him she was pregnant. If he’d found out sooner, would it have changed things? That’s something he would never know.

“About the letter,” he said.

“We hardly knew each other, Joe. You made it clear you didn’t want to be tied down. And why would you believe I wasn’t trying to trap you?”

“Before I get blamed for something, shouldn’t I get a chance to screw up first?”

“And didn’t I have a right to know that you only wanted sex? Somehow I missed the signs.” Her eyes flashed a color that was new to him. “For the record, I don’t blame you. No one held a gun to my head.”

That’s for sure. She’d been warm and willing in his arms. And he’d wanted her more every time he saw her. Even after all this time, he still wanted her. “I was there. I’m back now.” Maybe he was the one blaming her when she hadn’t screwed up.

But he’d been fooled once and that was enough. Maybe the experience had fine-tuned his cheater meter, because he believed her. “He’s my son, too.”

In a split second, the expression on her face went from woman scorned to mother lion. “Since when? You made it clear that you didn’t want to participate when you didn’t write back.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t write back because I couldn’t.”

“Oh? Your arms were broken?” She sighed and shook her head. “That was a cheap shot. Look, Joe, the fact is I don’t want or need anything from you. I felt obligated to let you know about the baby. You didn’t—couldn’t write back. End of story.”

“Not so fast. I’m here now.” He’d have been here sooner if not for mission debriefing, medical clearance and military retirement paperwork. And this conversation wasn’t one he’d wanted to have over the phone. Or in front of her neighbors. Or, apparently, sitting down on the sofa. He met her accusing gaze. “There is an explanation. And I’d like you to hear me out.”

“Okay.” She folded her arms over her breasts and stared him straight in the eye.

“The letter arrived just as I was getting ready for a mission and I was going to answer it when I got back.”

“I see.”

“The thing is—it took me some time to get back.”

“What?” There was a wary look in her eyes. “Why?”

“My helicopter was shot down and the Taliban extended their hospitality for a while.”

And that was all she needed to know, all he would tell her.

Her eyes went from dark brown back to warm cocoa as she put her hand on his arm. “Joe—”

The touch of her fingers felt too good and he backed up a step. “I got in a little while ago and came straight from McCarran.”

That was important for her to know.

“I don’t know what to say,” she said.

“Tell me about my son.”

A smile curved up the corners of her mouth. “He’s perfect, the best thing I’ve ever done.”

“What’s his—what did you name him?”

She walked over to the end table beside the sofa and picked up a framed photo, then handed it to him. “J.T.”

As Joe stared at the chubby-faced infant in the picture something inside him went tight and his heart skipped. The baby’s eyes were big, blue like his own, but he had his mother’s dimples. “What does J.T. stand for?”

She hesitated a moment, then said, “Joseph Turner—that was my grandfather’s name.”

He slid his gaze to hers and grinned. “Has a nice ring.”

“I thought so.” She shrugged.

“He’s about four months old?”

She nodded and his gaze lowered to Kate’s now-flat abdomen. He wondered what she’d looked like pregnant. “Can I see him?”

“He’s asleep,” she said quickly, protectively.

“I just want to see him.”

She thought about that for too long and frowned while she was at it. Finally, she nodded. “This way.”

He followed her into the baby’s room. A night-light kept it from being too dark and he could see the crib, some kind of box overflowing with toys and a changing table. There were stuffed animals everywhere. Slowly, he walked over and stared down at the child, peacefully sleeping on his back. His small mouth pursed and worked in a sucking movement, then a little sigh escaped. His chest had felt tight many times before, but this was a sensation he’d never before experienced.

Joe reached out a finger and touched one tiny fist. He had to clear the lump in his throat before he could state the obvious, “He’s so little.”

A tender expression softened her face. “You should have seen him when he was born.”

But he hadn’t, although that wasn’t her fault. For six months he hadn’t even known there was going to be a baby and that was her fault. He hadn’t been there while his child grew inside her, or when she went into labor and gave birth. She’d robbed him of the beginning and an enemy on the other side of the world had stolen the rest. What if an attack of conscience hadn’t forced her to let him know? In his experience women kept a lot of things to themselves and none of it was in his best interest.

He met her gaze. “We need to talk.”

“Agreed. But not here and not tonight. Call me tomorrow?”

Sounded like an evasive maneuver to him. To fly choppers in a war theater, Joe had trained to run and dive to stay alive. But good training went hand in hand with tactics. Surprise was the best strategy.

“All right,” he said. “You’ll hear from me tomorrow.”

Near Mercy Medical’s emergency entrance Kate Carpenter stood about twenty yards from the square concrete slab with the big red X in the center of a circle marked with a blue H. This was where the medical evacuation helicopters landed. One was on its way with a fifty-eight-year-old male. Possible heart attack. The patient was from Pahrump. Because her mother lived there, she knew it was an hour from Las Vegas on a winding two-lane road. Medical intervention would have taken too long if he’d been brought in by regular ambulance.

Mercy Medical Center E.R. nurses alternated meeting the medevac chopper and today was Kate’s turn. The emergency-room doctor had already seen the EKG strip and was keeping in touch with the situation via radio and the readings from the heart monitor hooked up to the patient. This was a level-three trauma center, and it was where she’d met Joe Morgan for the first time. Talk about trauma.

She still couldn’t believe he’d shown up last night without warning. Not that a warning would have helped her on the inside, but her outside would have looked a lot better. At least she could have put on lip gloss and mascara. A woman shouldn’t have to meet the man from her past without benefit of cosmetics.

She’d half expected to see him when the calendar said his twelve months overseas were over. But one day had turned into another and time had passed without any word from Joe. Finally, she’d figured he was one of those guys who was nothing more than a sperm donor. The look on his face when he’d seen his son for the first time told her she’d been wrong. That worried her more, even though he’d never asked to hold J.T.

Her emotional reserves had been about depleted when she’d finally suggested they meet another time to discuss the situation. He’d agreed, then left, looking tired. He was a little leaner than when she’d last seen him and she wondered what he’d been through. His cavalier explanation about the Taliban extending their hospitality wasn’t much information, but she had her suspicions—and a very bad feeling. He might be leaner and meaner, but he still packed that Morgan punch that kicked her pulse, heart rate and respiration into the danger zone.

Then she heard the whump, whump of helicopter blades growing louder and looked up as the bird seemed to float closer. When the rotor wash was near enough to blow her hair off her face, she gave herself a mental pinch to get her mind off personal problems and into the trauma.

She waited impatiently until the blades stopped moving, then ducked her head and with the respiratory therapist moved the gurney to the open door of the chopper. The flight nurse helped them offload the patient and handed over Jim Bennett’s paperwork, then they wheeled him to treatment room six in the E.R.

After transferring him to the exam table, Kate wrapped the blood-pressure cuff on his upper arm. “I’m going to get your vitals, Mr. Bennett.”

“Okay.” The man had a full head of brown hair streaked with silver and the pallor of his face reflected his pain and fear.

She removed the stethoscope from around her neck and plugged it into her ears, then put the bell in the bend of his arm and pumped up the cuff. After listening carefully, she noted the results. Next came pulse and respirations which she also marked on his chart. She was giving the patient a couple of aspirin when Dr. Mitch Tenney walked into the room.

The doctor took the chart from her and flipped through it. Without looking at the patient, he said, “Mr. Bennett, you’re having an M.I.”

“What’s that?” The man’s fearful gaze moved back and forth between them. His anxiety quotient was edging him toward panic.

“Myocardial infarction,” Mitch said.

“Heart attack,” Kate translated.

“We’re going to give you some anticoagulants, a clot buster and some morphine for the pain.” Mitch looked at her. “Per my standing orders.”

“Okay,” she said nodding.

“Then we’re going to transfer you upstairs to the cardiac-care unit for observation.” Mitch started to walk out.

“Am I going to die?” Mr. Bennett asked.

Mitch finally looked at him. “Not today.”

Kate shook her head at the doctor’s curtness. Mitch Tenney was the finest trauma specialist she’d ever seen. What he lacked in bedside manner he made up for in skill. And that’s probably the only reason he was still on staff. Mercy Medical administration had received more than one complaint and the doctor was flirting with his third strike.

She stayed with the patient until he was transferred upstairs, then checked in at the nurse’s station. “If I’m all clear, I’m going to grab some lunch.”

The supervisor looked up from her computer monitor. “Go, Kate. It’s late. You must be starving.”

“Yeah. Been one of those mornings.”

And it got just a little more unpredictable when she walked through the waiting room on her way to the cafeteria. Joe stood there dressed in a khaki flight suit, aviator sunglasses hanging from the V where his white T-shirt peeked above the zipper.

“Hi,” he said.

“What are you doing here?”

Mentally she smacked her forehead. He wasn’t dressed up for Halloween. These were work clothes for a helicopter pilot. She just hadn’t connected the right dots fast enough to realize that he was her helicopter pilot. He’d brought Mr. Bennett in.

“Scratch that,” she said, shaking her head. She wasn’t prepared to deal with him again so soon. Part of the reason she’d cut last night’s visit short was to pull herself together, but one sleepless night of thinking about him hadn’t been long enough to settle her traumatized nerves. And when he stood there looking like temptation for the taking, she knew her nerves wouldn’t be upgraded from critical to stable any time soon. “I guess what I meant to say was don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“Not at the moment.”

He looked good, she thought. The one-piece flight suit should look dorky, but didn’t. Not on Joe. It was impossibly masculine, along with his short dark hair which was mussed in a good way. Dark-blue eyes met hers and he seemed more serious than she remembered. More compelling. And more dangerous.

He was still handsome, and looking at him did scary things to the rhythm of her heart, which had already worked pretty darn hard in less than twenty-four hours. But he was different somehow. The self-confident, cocky air that had first captured her interest was missing in action. He seemed more watchful, wary, on full alert.

His face was strong, with a square jaw and a nose that was not quite straight. Looking closer, she noticed a scar on his chin, a back-slash that she didn’t recall. And she would. She’d kissed every inch of his face during those intense weeks they’d been together, before he’d abruptly told her it was over between them.

Kate slid her hands into the pockets of her scrubs as she looked up at him. “I’m on my way to lunch.”

“Mind if I join you?”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself. But it’s hospital food. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Roger that.”

The cafeteria was on the first floor and she led him through the maze of hallways until the scent of food drifted to them. It was late for lunch and the room was practically empty. They took red plastic trays from the stack and slid them along the metal shelf in front of the steam table while studying the day’s menu choices—beef stroganoff and chicken teriyaki. She looked up at Joe, intending to break the tension and say something light and innocuous about the awful food, but her tongue refused to work. She was immobilized by the expression in his eyes—probing, intense, alive, knowing. Suddenly she wasn’t hungry—at least not for food.

She cleared her throat, then said, “I recommend a hamburger.”

He nodded, and she ordered two. They got drinks from the fountain dispenser, then filed by the cashier and Kate insisted on paying because of her employee discount.

When they were facing each other across a table, she cut her hamburger in half. Anything to keep her hands busy. Unfortunately, the movement also highlighted the fact that they were shaking. “So—I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

“It was bound to happen.”

“Because of J.T.,” she said.

“Because Southwestern Helicopter Service is my company and we have the contract for medical evacuation with Mercy Medical Center.”

“I knew that.” It was another reason she’d half expected to see him when his tour of duty ended. “I just figured as owner of the company, you were running the show from behind a desk.”

“No way.” He shook his head. “The way I see it, anyone who doesn’t want to fly is crazy.”

Mentally she raised her hand for a free pass to the psych ward. She liked both feet on the ground, thank you very much. One irreconcilable difference in the con column and she suspected there would be more. Part of the problem was that she didn’t know how many more. She’d spent several sizzling weeks with this man and talking hadn’t been high on her list of things to do with him. But the list had changed. He was J.T.’s father and she knew very little about him, except that he’d charmed her into breaking her rules, then disappeared and broke her heart. That’s what happened when you didn’t follow the rules. She wouldn’t be making that mistake again.

“I see,” she said.

Without cutting it in half, he took a manly bite of his burger, then chewed. “So, who watches J.T. while you’re at work?”

Probably he’d have asked that even if she hadn’t mentioned their son a few moments ago. And she was going to cut him a break on the slightly judgmental tone in his voice and chalk it up to her imagination, aggravated by guilt from leaving her son in order to make a living and put a roof over his head. “I have someone.”

“I guess you checked out this someone?”

“Of course. She’s mature. A grandmother.” When she noticed the look on his face, she added, “A young grandmother. She has references.”

Joe finished his hamburger while she picked at hers and made crumbs out of the bun. Without consciously forming the thought, Kate had known that Joe showing up would complicate her life. But this conversation was making her uneasy. Somewhere she’d heard that the best defense was a good offense. Although whoever had said it probably wasn’t facing off with an honest-to-goodness warrior.

“Look, Joe, I’m not sure exactly what you’re getting at. But I’ve got questions, too. Like, why didn’t you call before coming by last night?”

He shrugged. “I’m a fly-by-the-seat-of-the-pants kind of guy.”

“And I’m a feet-on-the-ground and plan-everything-out kind of girl.”

“Not when we were together,” he said, heat blazing in his eyes.

He was right about that. From the time she was old enough to understand that her mother chose one loser after another, Kate had promised herself that she wouldn’t make the same mistakes. She would do things in a practical, orderly way. She would fall in love, get married, and after a reasonable length of time, probably two years, they would have a baby.

Then she’d met Joe. He came into Mercy Medical’s E.R. for stitches in his hand and laid his follow-me-into-sin grin on her. She’d known she was flirting with danger, but the excitement of it was irresistible. She couldn’t believe that a man like him was interested in Candy Carpenter’s only daughter and for once she silenced the practical voice that warned her to run far, run fast. Instead, she’d run straight into his arms for a magical month.

Then he’d simply said it was over and he was deploying for a year. After that, she’d buried her pain behind an it-serves-me-right attitude and figured she got off with a cheap lesson. Mostly she believed that until she found out she was pregnant and had made the mother of all mistakes—pardon the pun. But that didn’t mean she was like her mother. She took care of herself, all by herself. And that’s the way she liked it.

“We were together a long time ago,” Kate said. “And a lot has changed since then.”

“Yeah.” Shadows slid through his eyes as he nodded. “You had my baby.”

“And I wouldn’t trade him for anything,” she said fiercely. “I love that child more than I ever imagined it was possible to love anyone. Everything I do, every decision I make is for him.”

“Okay. But I’m back now. If I’d been here…”

What would have been different? He’d dumped her. So what if it had taken her a while to let him know he was going to be a father? The decision was huge. Her own father had skipped out before she was old enough to remember him and Kate had often wondered why he’d bothered to marry her mom in the first place if he didn’t plan to stick around. Joe had just done the not-sticking-around part up front.

Finally she said, “It’s okay, Joe. It’s not your fault you couldn’t be here for J.T.”

“But I’m here now.”

“Yeah.” And they needed to talk about what that meant. Real soon. But she wasn’t ready yet.

“I want to do the right thing, Kate.”

“What does that mean?”

More importantly, did she really want to hear this?

The uneasy feeling grew in her chest until she had trouble drawing in air. J.T. was hers. She could take care of him, support him, raise him to be a good man. She didn’t want or need anyone’s help for J.T. to be healthy and happy. If she didn’t let anyone else in, the chances of keeping him happy went up. If she did it herself, she would know it was done right because she would always be there for him.

She looked at Joe and braced herself. “Define the right thing.”

“We should get married.”

Chapter Two

Kate was just taking a drink from her iced tea and nearly choked. “Don’t you know it’s not nice to make a joke when someone’s drinking?”

Joe wasn’t being funny. He was dead serious, although he hadn’t intended to propose. If he’d planned it, there would have been flowers and candles, not harsh fluorescent lights. And the food would be better than flame-broiled cardboard with a shot of cholesterol. But now that the thought was out there, it felt right.

“I’m not joking. We should get married,” he said.

“No, we shouldn’t.” She stabbed at the ice in her cup with the straw.

“Why not?”

“Do you really want me to start? The thing is, I only get a half hour for lunch,” she said.

Irritation knotted inside him. He didn’t remember her being this sarcastic. But then, all his memories were from before he’d told her they were over. She probably had reason to give him a hard time. Likely it’d be a good idea to let her get this out of her system.

“Take your best shot,” he said. “Give me one good reason why it would be wrong.”

“Just one?” she said, staring at him.

“For starters.”

“Okay.” She nodded thoughtfully. “Here’s one. We hardly know each other.”

“So marriage will give us a chance to get acquainted.”

“Oh, please,” she said. “That’s just stupid.”

“People do it all the time.”

“Not this person.” She twisted the dangling strands of her ponytail around her finger. “My life is all in place. Why would I want to turn it upside down?”

Speaking of upside-down life, he’d spent a whole lot of time in dark cellars, caves and God knows where else thinking about the baby. Her letter had said she was having a boy, right after she’d admitted she’d considered not telling him at all. That she was okay with raising the child alone and not to feel any obligation to be involved. Be well and happy. Kate, she’d signed the thing. He was well, but he hadn’t been happy for longer than he could remember.

Scratch that. He’d been happy when he was with her. But more important than either of them was his son.

“What about the baby?” he asked.

“What about him?” she answered, her eyes flashing. “J.T. is perfect. I’m taking care of him just fine.”

“In your letter you said you were okay with raising him alone, but—”

“I am,” she interrupted. “Although I don’t really remember what I said.”

He remembered. He’d had it with him when he went down, hid the paper and read it so often he’d memorized every word while he’d been detained.

“You’re looking pretty intense,” she said warily.

“Just thinking.” He leaned his forearms on the table. “Wouldn’t you like some help with the baby?”

“I don’t need help. Not from you.”

“I’m J.T.’s father.”

“That’s a fact. And here’s another one. You dumped me.”

“I didn’t know you were pregnant.”

“Okay. But your gut instinct was to walk away from me. Now I’m supposed to believe that I’m the woman of your dreams because I had your baby?” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I don’t think so.”

“I was being deployed. It wasn’t fair to ask you to wait.”

“You didn’t ask. You didn’t give me a chance to decide if I wanted to wait for you. You just assumed and didn’t give a rat’s behind about how I felt. It was selfish.”

Was that hurt in her eyes? He’d walked away because it was better for him, so he’d take responsibility for the selfish part. But he hadn’t meant to hurt her. He’d been doing what was best for both of them.

If best was not being able to forget her, then his strategy had been a rousing success. If aching to feel her in his arms and see her bright smile and deep dimples was optimum, then his course of action had been a clear victory. If best was beating back the yearning to contact her, then he’d been right on.

The biggest hell of captivity, even worse than the beatings and losing another marine, was not being able to tell her he wanted his son. He wanted to be obligated, to be involved. To pick up where he’d walked out and start fresh. Who knows? They might have been married now. But judging by the resentment in her eyes and the edge to her voice, it was going to be an uphill battle.

“That time—Us—It’s history,” he said.

“And the past is where it’s going to stay. Because the thing about you being selfish is that now I know. There’s no taking it back. And it’s a red flag for me that you’re probably not very good marriage material.”

“Now who’s assuming?”

“It’s not an assumption if you’ve got history to back it up.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. It was longer than military issue now and felt weird, different. Kind of like this conversation. He’d dug himself a foxhole and now he had to fight his way out of it.

“The most important thing is J.T.”

She nodded. “I agree.”

“He needs a mother and a father.”

“And he’s got one of each. There’s no reason to get wild and do something stupid.”

“I want to be there for him,” Joe said.

He’d nearly gone crazy, bound and blindfolded somewhere in the bowels of Afghanistan, knowing he was not only MIA as far as the military was concerned, but also during Kate’s pregnancy and the birth of his child. Not knowing if Kate and the baby were okay. He couldn’t be involved then because fate got in his way. But now he’d go to the mat with fate for the chance to know his son.

Kate frowned as she studied him. “Do you really believe a piece of paper and a couple of half-hearted ‘I dos’ are going to convince me that you’re a forever-after kind of guy?”

Of course not. He had up-close-and-in-your-face experience that a marriage license didn’t guarantee fidelity, loyalty and honesty. His ex-wife had barely waited until he’d deployed on his first tour before taking up with his brother. Out of sight, out of mind. But the betrayal was a double whammy and it had hurt so damn much that he didn’t want to be in that situation again. He wouldn’t let himself care. And he’d started to care too much for Kate so he’d broken it off.

The only good thing fate had done was deliver that letter before his last mission. Thoughts of seeing his son had gotten him through the darkest time of his life. He was here and Kate was going to have to deal with him.

“When it comes to J.T. I’m a forever-after kind of guy,” he said.

“But you also brought up marriage and I keep coming back to the fact that I don’t know you. Not then and not now.” She pulled at the paper that had covered her straw, shredding it over the burger she’d barely touched. “On top of that, you’re not the same man I knew before.”

No kidding. He was a hard man. War had a way of doing that to you. Scenes flashed through his mind. The rat-a-tat of machine-gun fire. The whine of a mortar. The explosion of IEDs—improvised explosive devices—while he was inserting or extracting combat teams. Screams from the wounded. The knot in his belly when he landed in a hot zone and the wounded were hastily loaded on board. Taking off and flying his heart out to get them medical attention before it was too late.

The blood. The moans.

If a man didn’t get hard, he didn’t get through. You turned off the feelings to get the job done.

“And you’re not the same woman I left behind. You can’t go through the process of bringing a life into the world without it changing you.”

“We finally agree about something. I am a mother now. I love J.T. more than anything in the world. And I’d do anything—” her eyes glowed with intensity “—anything in the world to protect him. It’s my job.”

“Is part of your job to protect him from his father?”

“It is if you’re going to waltz in, make him love you then disappear.”

Before he could respond to that, his pager went off. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked the digital display. “Dispatch,” he said. “The emergency code.” He called and listened to whoever was on the other end at the office, then met her gaze. “I have to go. Another patient for Mercy Medical.”

“I have to go back to work, too.”

They both stood and he looked down at her. “This discussion isn’t over, Kate.”

She sighed. “I know.”

Without another word, she walked away.

After picking J.T. up from Marilyn Watson, his babysitter, Kate took him home and changed quickly into shorts and a T-shirt. The baby fussed a little in his infant seat while she brushed her hair then put on a little blush and mascara. Earlier today, Joe had said they weren’t finished talking. And judging by the look on his face, their conversation would continue soon. He’d surprised her last night, but this time she intended to be prepared for battle. He was a warrior, she intended to fight like a girl.

In the living room, she lifted her son from the infant seat, kissing his soft cheek. “It’s bath time, Joey T.”

Talking nonstop nonsense to him, she walked into the spare bath off the hall. After assembling soap and washcloth, and filling the J.T.-sized tub, she got the baby naked and sat him in the lukewarm water, one hand firmly holding his chubby upper arm. Squealing with delight, he splashed away. They both loved this nightly ritual because they were both tired after a long day. Evenings were rarely serene and she counted on this happy time before the unrestful portion of the program commenced.

“I saw your Dad—Daddy—” Kate stared at the baby who had just discovered his navel and was poking at it with one finger.

When Joe had ignored her letter telling him he was going to be a father, daddy was the last thing she would have called him. Jerk was on her list and a few other, even less flattering, names. Then she’d tried her darnedest to forget him.

Now she knew why he hadn’t responded and her heart ached for him, what he must have gone through. She felt awful for believing the worst of him and knew part of that was about her own baggage before meeting him. But his rejection gave her more emotional baggage for the future.

Now he was back and they shared a child. There was every indication that he was dead serious about sharing this child.

She took the washcloth and washed her son’s head, gently letting the water trickle over his face. “I got a marriage proposal today, J.T.”

He blinked away moisture, then stared up at her with Joe’s blue eyes. She’d always known he favored his father, but seeing the man again confirmed that as much as she’d wanted to forget Joe, she would always see him in their son. And something else hadn’t changed.

In spite of the hurt and anger, Joe Morgan still made her knees weak and her heart beat too fast. That did not make her happy.

“Your daddy asked me to marry him.” She decided daddy was okay. “What do you think about that?”

The baby grinned up at her, then hit the water with his free hand, sending it splashing everywhere. When Kate laughed, he gurgled out a giggle, wet, sloppy and joyous. She’d never known it was possible to love this much and every day her feelings for this little boy got bigger. She’d meant every word she’d said to Joe about protecting her child.

“So you like the idea of him being around, huh?” J.T. splashed his approval, but Kate wasn’t happy. Already he’d brought up the M word, but it had everything to do with the baby, not her. Nothing about J.T. was wrong, but tying herself legally to Joe because of that seemed like a disaster in the making.

Unlike her father, Joe had come back. But for how long? He’d given her the best four weeks of her life, then abruptly told her it was over. Why should she believe he wouldn’t do that again? This time to J.T.?

She washed the baby all over and held on tight to her squirmy, slippery little guy. When he was rinsed, she lifted him out and wrapped a towel around him, although she was the wetter of the two. In his bedroom, she settled him on the changing table and handed him a toy to distract him while she put him in a diaper and lightweight jammies.

She brushed his dark hair with a baby brush and smiled tenderly down. “Life was a lot simpler yesterday, buddy. I only had to worry about you and me. When your daddy showed up, things got really complicated for Mommy.”

Yesterday her life had been all about the stress of work and raising her son. Now she had conflict.

Kate carried him back to the living room and spread a big quilt on the floor, scattered some toys and put him down, hoping she’d have a few minutes to grab a frozen dinner before he demanded her attention. After popping one in the microwave, she turned the machine on.

J.T. didn’t demand her attention, but the ringing doorbell got it in a big way. She didn’t have to be psychic to know who was there. Looking down, she sighed at her wet front. She told herself the only reason she cared about her appearance was to make him regret walking away from her and the gullible part of her almost believed that.

The doorbell rang again and she looked through the peephole to confirm her suspicion. Then she said to J.T., “Someone’s here to see you, big guy.”

After turning the dead bolt, she opened the door and felt her heart race at the sight of all that tall, dark and handsome intensity. “Hi, Joe.”

“Hi.”

“Come in.”

When he walked past, she inhaled the wonderful masculine scent. And speaking of masculine, he had a serious scattering of beard that had been five o’clock shadow several hours ago. Maybe he’d been in too big a hurry to shave. Or he knew how susceptible she was to the scruffy look.

She shut the door and found him staring down at the baby. The awed expression on his face worked over her hormones just as efficiently as the scruffy look.

“He’s awake tonight,” Joe said.

“And clean.” The microwave beeped, signaling her dinner was done.

At the same time J.T. started to cry. Hurrying over, she scooped him up, then went into the kitchen and started to take the one-dish meal out of the oven.

“Can I hold him?” Joe asked.

She hesitated, something she would have done if a stranger on the street had asked her the same question. When his eyes narrowed, she knew Joe had noticed.

He wasn’t a stranger. Not entirely. More important, he was J.T.’s father. “Sure.”

When she put the child in his arms, Joe’s intensity disappeared, replaced by tenderness. “Hey, buddy.”

Kate watched her son as he stared up at his father with wide, wary eyes. He was a sturdy little guy and she didn’t have to warn Joe about supporting his head. He’d missed that stage—not because he’d wanted to.

Joe met her gaze, something close to fatherly pride in his own. “He’s pretty beefy.”

“Yeah. He’s always been a good eater.”

“Has he?”

A twinge of regret fluttered through her because he’d missed that, too. And there was no way to make up for it. But this was a photo op if she’d ever seen one because he was holding his son for the first time.

“I have pictures,” she said. “From the beginning.”

“I’d like to see them.” When he shifted the baby’s weight in his arms, J.T.’s soft cheek brushed against the scruff of beard. The already skittish child let out a piercing wail. “Hey, pal, what’s up?”

Looking awkward, Joe tried bouncing him, but this was unfamiliar territory and his body language said so, loud and clear. He was stiff, uncomfortable, and J.T. could feel it. His cries became more urgent—from zero to sobbing in three-point-two seconds.

Unfortunately, it was past his bedtime. J.T. was tired and beyond hope of being distracted.

“Let me have him,” she said, taking the baby.

He wanted the comfort of nursing, another nightly ritual. Another something Joe hadn’t seen and she wasn’t comfortable doing it now. But as the baby got more and more upset and nuzzled his face into her shoulder, Kate knew there was no choice.

“What can I do?” he asked.

“He wants to nurse,” she explained.

She went into the bedroom and grabbed a receiving blanket then sat on the couch hoping Joe would be as embarrassed as she was. Please God, he would take the hint and go.

When he stood his ground, she tugged up her shirt with as much dignity as possible, settled J.T. at her breast where he instantly latched on, then threw the blanket over her front. It was quiet now, except for the hum of the refrigerator.

“What happens during the day when you’re at work?” Joe asked. “How does he—I mean, obviously you don’t let him go hungry.”

The man flew helicopters, complex machinery that was beyond the average person, but the basics of breast-feeding were a mystery. It might have made her smile if she weren’t so tense about this complex mess they were in.

“I pump,” she said.

“Iron? Gas? What?” he asked.

The puzzled expression on his face was so darn cute it made her even more tense and J.T. whimpered. “It’s okay, sweet pea,” she comforted. The sound of her voice quieted him and she felt him relax.

She looked up at Joe. He stood straight and tall with booted feet braced wide apart as if he were standing guard over them, which was oddly comforting. His worn jeans and snug black T-shirt molded to his body and left none of his muscles to her imagination. And she’d imagined him a lot since he walked out on her.

“I have a breast pump that extracts the milk,” she explained. “It goes into bottles that I freeze and take to Marilyn Watson. She’s the lady I told you about who watches him while I’m at work.”

“I see.”

“He’s also starting solid food—cereal, fruit.” She saw the look on his face and added, “Pureed fruit. No teeth yet.”

“I got that.” He almost smiled before the serious expression returned. “How did you learn all this stuff?”

“OJT—on-the-job training.”

But she remembered when J.T. was brand-new and she’d felt as if someone with a warped sense of humor had thrown her into the deep end of the parenting pool. She’d been alone. On her own with a newborn. Trying to breast-feed, not knowing if J.T. was getting enough to eat. That first night the two of them cried together. But she got through it by herself. That’s how it always had been and always would be.

By the heavy, relaxed feel of him, she knew J.T. had fallen asleep. She stood and said, “I’m going to put him to bed.”

Joe nodded, but to her relief didn’t follow her into the other room. She placed the baby on his back with a light receiving blanket over his legs. It was May in Las Vegas and far from cold. The gesture was more of a “mom thing” than a necessity to keep him warm. After adjusting her shirt more modestly, she rejoined Joe.

“I got your dinner ready,” he said.

He’d set it on the bar with a glass of iced tea beside it. Although she wasn’t hungry now, she knew she needed to eat something and sat down. He stood in the kitchen across from her.

“Thanks.”

He shrugged. “I know how to get food in and out of a microwave.”

The subtext of that remark was that he didn’t know what to do with a baby. The pained regret in his expression made her want to comfort him. “Having a child might be the most natural thing in the world, but they don’t come with an instruction manual.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

She took a bite of mystery meat and studied him while she chewed and swallowed. All she could think to say was, “It’s not your fault, Joe.”

And it wasn’t. But when she’d received no response from him, she hadn’t known he was a prisoner in Afghanistan and the silence had hurt her deeply. For the second time. She never wanted to hurt like that again.

“I’ll never know what it was like to hold him as a newborn.”

“If it’s any consolation, he won’t remember that.” She finished off the mashed potatoes and washed them down with iced tea. “And it’s a good thing. I was all thumbs and he was so tiny. It took time to know what I was doing.”

“That’s all I’m asking for, Kate.” He rested muscular forearms on the countertop in front of her. His eyes sparked with intensity as they met hers. “All I want is time to know my son and learn how to take care of him. Time for him to know me, to trust me.”

“That’s the hard part,” she said. “Why should I believe you’ll stick around?”

Why should she believe he was different from the other men she’d known? The ones who’d paraded in and out of her mother’s life when she was a child. Each time she’d hoped and prayed this one would stay so she could have a family—a mom and dad like other kids. It had never happened and she didn’t want J.T. to know the same disappointment she had.

Joe looked down for several moments, then met her gaze. “I guess there’s nothing I can say to convince you. But, here’s the thing. I wasn’t here when you were pregnant or for the first months of his life. I will be around now. Count on it.”

She had to be fair; there was no choice but to give him time with his child. He was entitled to that. It wasn’t his problem that her attraction for him refused to die. Since there was no way she’d let J.T. out of her sight, she’d have to see him—and do her best to make sure history didn’t repeat itself.

The last time he’d only wanted sex. Now he was there for the baby. It had nothing to do with her, and she needed to remember that. She’d already experienced a serious level of pain on Joe’s account that was a small preview of the damage he could do to her heart.

“Okay,” she said. “You can come over.” Then she held up her finger in warning. “Just don’t bring up marriage again.”

As if that would protect her from emotional catastrophe. She could only hope.

Chapter Three

Kate had said okay—permission to come aboard as a parent. It was bright and early the following morning and he stood on her doorstep with bagels and doughnuts in hand. He didn’t bring coffee because after browsing breast-feeding sites on the Net, he wasn’t sure whether J.T. would get caffeine through his mom. On general principle he figured it wasn’t good for a baby.

Joe knocked softly on the door in case the baby might still be asleep. He didn’t know a lot about this, but the little information he had suggested new parents were tired, which meant babies didn’t sleep much.

Kate answered the door with a coffee cup in her hand which answered the caffeine question. “Hi. You’re early.”

And you’re beautiful.

For a split second he was afraid he’d said that out loud. It was the honest-to-God truth, but she wouldn’t want to hear it from him. Her sunstreaked brown hair was tousled from sleep and he remembered it looking like that after he’d run his hands through the silky strands all night long. She was wearing white shorts and a sleeveless green cotton shirt. Her feet were bare and her face didn’t have even a trace of makeup. She took his breath away and also, apparently, his powers of speech because he hadn’t said a word yet.

“Hi.” He gave her the bag. “Breakfast.”

“Thanks. Come in.”

He followed her inside and said, “I wasn’t sure about coffee and caffeine for J.T.—”

She held up her cup. “It’s decaf and I miss my morning jolt. Want some?”

The sight of her had already given him a jolt and no caffeine was involved. “Coffee would be great.” He looked around and saw J.T. propped up in a high chair and gnawing on something that looked like a bread stick. He had goo and residue, presumably from a food source of unknown origin in his hand, all over his face and as far down his body as was visible. He reached to the top of his head and ran a grubby hand in his hair, grabbing a hank before pulling it straight up.

“Hey, buddy.” He walked over and squatted in front of the boy who was watching him with big, interested blue eyes. “You’ve got a punk-rock thing going on there.”

“I wouldn’t get too close,” Kate warned, coffeepot in hand. “He’s a mess.”

“Yeah. I have visual confirmation,” he said wryly.

“He’s pretty quick with those hands if you’re not careful. Just like you—” She stopped and her cheeks turned pink. “Never mind.”

Impossible not to mind when she reminded him of how good the sex had been. Not that he needed much reminding. But she was right. It was better not to go there.

He smiled at the baby. “What’s up, J.T.?”

“He is,” Kate said, glancing over her shoulder. “And a lot during the night, too. I think he’s teething. As a matter of fact, that gross thing in his hand is a teething biscuit. He likes to chew on it. Keeps him busy for a long time.”

Joe moved to the bar and watched her put sugar and fat-free half and half in her steaming mug. She was very particular about it, he remembered now. Coffee was practically a religious experience.

With another cup in her hand, she moved to the counter, keeping the bar between them. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He took the steaming mug from her and set it down to cool. Black was how he liked it.

There was nothing like the smell of a good cup of coffee. Unless it was the sweet scent of Kate. The fragrance of her skin drifted to him and all he could think about was fresh flowers and feminine heat. For a woman who hadn’t had a good night’s sleep, she looked awfully darn appealing. For a man who’d given her up, he was still pretty damn attracted. What had he been thinking?

That was a no-brainer. He’d walked before she could. He didn’t want to get burned again. It was as simple as that. But there was nothing simple about the way he got lost in her big, expressive eyes.

“You’re here for a crash course in child care. So—” She dragged out the single word, then took a sip of coffee. Nervous. Good. It wasn’t just him.

“Not quite the way I’d phrase it,” he said and couldn’t help smiling. “More like the basics of baby boot camp.”

“Well put.”

“Where do we start?”

She glanced over her shoulder at the gurgling, babbling baby. “Bath first. Do you want to get him out of the chair?”

He blew out a breath. “A pilot has to take the controls sooner or later.”

“Just remember he’s really sturdy and crying is actually good for his lungs.”

But not so good for my heart, Joe thought.

Last night, his son had cried because he didn’t know his own father. Joe had felt angry, powerless to help, and it had made him hurt in a place he’d never known existed. He hated that. Kate had easily handled the situation. But she had a four-month headstart. More than that if you counted the time she’d carried the boy inside her. It was the time Joe could never get back which had sparked his anger. All he could do was start now and learn, because he never wanted to feel that helpless again.

He started to lift the child out of the chair, then released the seat belt when he got hung up. The baby’s feet caught on the tray and, with one arm around J.T.’s waist, he untangled them.

“And we have lift off.” In more ways than one, he thought when there was an unmistakable sound from the region of the baby’s tush. Sniffing, he said, “Tell me that isn’t what I think.”

Kate grinned and it could only be described as evil, with a little wicked thrown in for good measure. “There’s never been a better time for diaper-changing 101.”

Joe groaned. He held the boy in both hands, out in front of him so as not to squish anything any more than necessary.

Kate instructed him to put the baby down on the changing table, which was the easy part. Keeping him there was like trying to lasso a hurricane. His son wanted to roll sideways, chew on his feet and grab tubes, tissues and everything else lined up for this operation. Joe felt a trickle of sweat on his back, not unlike the first time he’d taken the controls of a helicopter.

“You’re going to need wet wipes and lots of them,” Kate said, amusement dripping from every word.

With one hand firmly on the baby’s midsection, he looked at her. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“I know.” She smiled.

“You’re not even going to deny it?”

“Nope.” She shook her head. “This is just too good for words.”

She verbally walked him through the process, but remained hands-off while he struggled to keep small hands and feet out of the radioactive zone. Then she told him what he could do with it, the diaper that is. Who knew there was a gizmo that magically contained odors? There was a good reason it was called a Diaper Genie.

“Mission accomplished.”

“Not so fast, Marine.” She laughed. “You’re not finished yet. It’s bath time.”

Lord have mercy, he thought. Words that struck terror into his warrior soul. At least she took pity on him and put out the supplies, then filled the tiny tub. Keeping the baby contained in it was diaper-changing bad times ten. Holding on to a slippery baby was like trying to steady his chopper in a twister. When goo and God knows what else was washed off, Kate handed him the towel. Probably not because she wanted to help him as much as because she didn’t want the baby to get cold.

“I’ve put out his clothes,” she explained.

“Changing table?” He held back the groan.

“You’re catching on.”

Not really, but he was glad she thought so. When he put J.T. down, Kate handed the baby a toy that went straight in his mouth. It also kept his hands busy. She could have done that before.

“Here’s a fresh diaper.” She held out a small, folded, not-quite-square white thing.

“Where are the schematics and operating manual?”

She laughed and opened the square, sliding it under the baby’s bottom, getting in close to Joe’s side. Her shoulder brushed his arm and he swore there were sparks. She glanced at him, then stepped sideways.

“Just cover him and hook the tabs,” she instructed. “Here’s a onesy.”

“A what?”

“It’s a shirt that snaps between his legs so it won’t ride up. One piece. A onesy.”

“Not a very manly name.”

“Trust me. You’re the only one offended. J.T. is all about being comfortable.”

At least one of them was. With her so close, Joe was anything but comfortable. Not to mention soaked. He was as soaked as she’d been the night before, but it looked much better on her. The wet shirt she’d been wearing had been practically transparent. Molded to her full breasts it had made her look like a randy teenage boy’s best dream.

He hadn’t known at that point, but it had been only the first temptation of the evening. If there was any silver lining to J.T.’s meltdown, it had been the glimpse of her creamy skin when she’d fed his son from her body. The message had come through loud and clear that she wanted him to leave. But he’d already missed too much to retreat at the signs of hostility in her eyes. And he was glad he’d stood his ground. It had been the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

A high-pitched squeal pulled him back to the present. J.T. was rubbing a chubby fist in his eye, following the action with a big yawn. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know he was tired. That made two of them. Babies were definitely high-maintenance.

“Nap time?” he asked, looking at Kate.

She nodded and he felt as if he’d deciphered intel that would bring down a whole terrorist network. “But he has to eat something first.”

“Again? The teething biscuit wasn’t enough?” He picked the boy up. The feel of the baby weight in his arms was a little better. “Scratch that. He was wearing most of it.”

“You’re very observant.”

He watched Kate prepare a baby bottle she took from the freezer, which was probably the pumped breast milk she’d told him about. When it was ready, she settled him on the couch with J.T. in his arms.

“I think you can figure it out from here,” she said, hovering close by.

He put the bottle up to the small mouth and the kid latched on. At least one of them knew what to do. And that’s when it hit him that he was feeding his child for the first time. This was a photo moment of monumental proportions. This was huge.

The baby must have felt some of these vibes because he started squirming.

“It’s okay, buddy. Easy does it,” he said softly.

That seemed to calm him because he started sucking again. After draining the bottle, he let out a big burp.

He grinned at Kate. “I’m so proud.”

“You’re such a guy,” she said, rolling her eyes.

When J.T. heaved a satisfied sigh, Joe wondered what to do now. Then the baby closed his eyes and the sight made Joe’s chest grow tight. A second later something expanded and moved through him, filling up some of the empty places in his soul.

He’d done Marine Corps boot camp, flown helicopters in Afghanistan until his eyes felt as though all the desert sand was in them. But he’d never felt as tired as he did now. Being a father was hard work—in the most awesome possible way. What if he had never received the letter?

Thinking about the fact that Kate was pregnant with his son had kept him going in his darkest hours. And suddenly he wondered how she’d found out where to send the letter.

“Do you want me to put him in his crib?” she asked.

“No. I like holding him.” Understatement of the century. “Can I ask you something?”

She sat on the couch beside him. “Sure.”

“When I was deployed overseas—” He met her gaze. “—how did you get my address?”

“From your brother.”

Preston Morgan. The man who’d betrayed him and broken up his marriage. That was freaking perfect. Unfortunately their dad’s death had left them partners in Southwestern Helicopters. Because of that his attorney brother needed to know how to reach him. It should have been obvious that Kate had gone to him for the information. He just hadn’t wanted to think about what that meant.

“What’s wrong?” Kate asked, frowning at him.

The easy answer was that he didn’t want his bastard of a brother anywhere near Kate. The hard question was why it mattered so much that the thought of it enraged him.

“It’s not important.”

“No? Then why do you look like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to choke someone. I know your brother is here in Las Vegas so I went to see him. He was extremely kind and very helpful.”

That wasn’t a big surprise. Kate was an incredibly beautiful woman, not unlike his ex-wife. Preston had hit on her without regard for legal or family ties. The thought of Kate in a compromising situation like that tightened the knot in his gut. “I’ll just bet he was ready to lend a hand.”

She didn’t look happy. “He said if I needed anything while you were gone to call. And to be sure and let him know when he was an uncle.”

“Did you?”

“No.” Her full lips pulled into a straight line for a moment. “When I didn’t hear from you, I thought it best not to.”

Well, thank goodness for that. The thought of his brother anywhere near her bent his rotors big time. “Smart move.”

“Obviously you disapprove of what I did.” Her eyes narrowed. “It would be helpful to have more information, Joe. I don’t know what’s going on between you—”

“Nothing.” Not any more. Not ever again. He’d looked up to his big brother once, wanted to be like him. Their father had thought Preston was perfect and Joe was the screwup. Not so much.

“Where else was I supposed to go? Would it be better if I hadn’t written to you at all?”

“No.” The word was sharp and his voice louder than he’d intended.

J.T. began to squirm and whimper as his tiny fists started waving. Then he let out a wail. Joe wasn’t sure what he’d done, but it wasn’t good.

Kate stood and held out her arms. “I’ll take him.”

He let her because she knew what to do and he didn’t want to make things worse. She walked down the hall, murmuring soothing sweet nothings and the silence proved it had worked.

Joe restlessly paced the living room because he was angry as hell. At Kate, but mostly at himself. He’d thought the past no longer affected him. He was wrong. And being wrong had affected his son.

It was obvious that Kate was confused and wanted to know what was up between him and his brother, but talking about it was the last thing he wanted. About that, and especially about what happened to him in Afghanistan. As long as there was breath left in his body, he would move heaven and earth not to let any of his darkness upset his son again. And Kate. He couldn’t stand the thought of anything bad touching her.

Kate wondered about Joe’s sudden shift in mood. One minute he was gentle and soft, the next tense, angry, and the baby had felt something—his aggression, hostility. That definitely defined the man after she’d said his brother had given her the address. What was up with that?

While the baby slept, she and Joe sat at the kitchen table munching on doughnuts and bagels and drinking the coffee that had gone cold. She’d nuked it.

Needing something to take the edge off what felt far too intimate, she had a pencil and paper and was jotting down things to get at the store. Every time she looked up, he was watching her.

“What?” she asked.

He nodded at her growing list. “You’re going to need a U-Haul.”

“Sometimes it feels that way. Especially when I’m toting J.T. along. I don’t think I truly appreciated shopping by myself until becoming a mother.”

“I could help.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” she said quickly.

“That never occurred to me. After going through basic training this morning, I have a better understanding. Shopping with the little guy must be similar to the precision and coordination of inserting a combat team into a hot zone.”

She laughed. “Sometimes it feels that way.”

“So let me help. I could go for you.”

“Thanks, but no. I’ve seen men in the store. Without a cell phone they’re lost. It would take twice as long.”

“Then I could stay with J.T.—”

“No.” When his eyes narrowed, she wanted to call the word back. Or at least soften her tone. “What if he wakes up?”

“I’ll handle it. Crying is actually good for his lungs, remember?”

And how she wanted those words back. “I’m more worried about you.”

“I wouldn’t hurt him.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Not really. But his sudden change of mood before had taken her aback. “The crying can frazzle you even if you’re used to it.”

“I’m pretty tough—”

The phone rang and she was grateful for the interruption until the caller ID showed that it was her mother. Nonetheless, dealing with Candy Carpenter was easier than explaining to Joe why she didn’t want to leave him alone with his son.

She picked up the phone and hit the talk button. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi. How’s J.T.?”

“Really good.”

“And you?”

“I’m fine.” A lie, but she wasn’t saying anything about her baby’s father showing up while he was sitting there watching her. “How are things with you?”

“Robert and I had a fight.”

So this wasn’t a call to see how things were with her and J.T. It was all about her mother. She glanced at Joe who was watching her. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

A big sigh came through loud and clear. “He said I wasn’t giving him enough space. That I was going too fast and he’s not ready.”

“Were you?”

“No.”

Kate rolled her eyes. Her mother lived in Pahrump, about an hour’s drive northwest of Las Vegas. She worked as a waitress in a diner. An attractive brunette, she got a lot of male attention. All was well in the first stages of a new relationship—first-meet euphoria followed by a few weeks of adoration. And of course, Candy always swore this one was the love of her life and they’d be together forever. Then she started to push.

Kate had told her over and over that she didn’t need a man to be happy, but somehow the words never stuck. She was tired of wasting her breath.

“Did it ever occur to you that you might be better off?” she asked.

“How can you say that?” Candy demanded. “He’s everything I ever wanted. Good-looking. He has a great job. We have fun together. The sex is—”

“Too much info, Mom.” That wasn’t a visual she wanted in her head.

“I’m still a young and vibrant woman.”

“Yes, you are. And you’re okay on your own. There’s no point in hanging on to something that doesn’t make your life better.”

“He does make it better,” Candy protested.

“That’s not what I’m hearing.”

“If he’d just give us time we could work it out.”

“That’s the thing, Mom. You’re trying to speed things up instead of giving it time.”

“You don’t understand.”

No, she didn’t. “Look, Mom, J.T. is starting to fuss. I have to go,” she lied.

“Give him a kiss from me.”

“Will do. Bye.” She replaced the phone and looked at Joe.

“Problem?” he asked.

“Just the usual.”

“Define usual.”

Apparently she’d never told him about her mother. But then, they’d been so wrapped up in each other talking hadn’t been high on their list of activities.

“The usual is the latest in an inappropriate string of men she’s gotten too possessive with. My father being one.”

“Oh?”

There was no reason she could come up with off the top of her head not to tell him. “My mother was pregnant when she married my father. What I don’t get is why he bothered when he didn’t plan to stick around. I never met the man.”

Joe’s eyes turned dark, a sign he didn’t approve, except that this time it wasn’t about her. “Maybe you’re better off.”

“That thought has crossed my mind.” In fact, she’d just said it to her mom about the current flavor of the month. “But over the years she’s had a string of men. My father was just the first mistake.”

“Is that why you refused my marriage proposal?”

“Partly.”

Again she could see no reason not to admit the truth. Sometimes she’d liked a man her mother brought home, but found out caring was a mistake because they always left. There was one she’d disliked on sight, and she’d begged her mom to dump him, gave her an ultimatum—him or me. Candy had chosen him. So Kate had left home and made a rule: she would rely only on herself and not make a mistake that would ruin her life. Now J.T. was her life and not making a mistake was more important than ever.

“What’s the other part?” he asked.

She met his gaze. “My biggest fear is turning into my mother. Always looking for a man. Always hoping he’ll be the one to take care of me. I don’t need anyone.”

“So no man gets in?”

“That’s right.”

That was a lie. He’d gotten in. Dashing, daring Marine Corps helicopter pilot Joe Morgan. His good looks and confident, compelling charm had taken her prisoner with no shots fired. The probing intensity of his eyes and his devil-may-care attitude had made her feel alive. She’d been sleepwalking through life until she’d met him and then she’d decided she would be a fool not to enjoy every moment he wanted to spend with her. She’d never lived a great story and that’s all he was ever supposed to be, until he became so much more.

Then, without warning, he said they were over and she’d been blindsided and desperately hurt. As long as he was playing father and insisted on being in her face, she was vulnerable to all the emotional harm he could do her. But she was probably borrowing trouble. How long could Joe’s fatherly devotion last? Based on the collective experience of the Carpenter women, men didn’t stick around. Kate hoped that would be the case with Joe.

He was the only man who’d ever made her break her rule and it had gone badly. He’d left her heart in pieces and she didn’t want to give him another shot at destroying what was left.

Chapter Four

While he had one hand on J.T.’s belly to hold him in place on the changing table, Joe used the other to fold up the dirty disposable diaper and stuff it into the container. He pulled a clean one from the stack on the shelf, applied powder, got the gizmo on right side up and pressed the tabs in place.

“Mission accomplished.” He grinned at the baby, who smiled and squealed and kicked his legs.

Had it only been a week since he’d fed his son for the first time? Seven days that had forever altered his center of gravity. This child was the most important thing.

Joe had changed shifts with one of the other chopper pilots so his days off coincided with Kate’s. Fortunately it had worked to the other guy’s advantage because Joe hadn’t wanted to pull rank. It was his helicopter company, but being the boss from hell didn’t inspire loyalty. The change had worked out pretty well. He and his brother never saw each other and the company was more successful than his father had ever imagined.

He wondered if his dad would be proud of him. Now that he was a father, Joe wondered about a lot of things. And he was learning a lot about the importance of routine in child-rearing. It seemed mornings were the best. J.T. was happy and so was Kate. After breakfast, the baby played, and when he got crabby it was time for a nap. Then it was lunchtime and a trip to a nearby park, weather permitting. Pretty soon it would be too hot. By that time Joe figured he could take the baby to his place in Spanish Trails. The pool would cool them off. He’d teach J.T. how to swim. There were so many things he wanted to teach him. Baseball. Cars. Girls.

About girls…Every time Joe thought of Kate a wave of lust shot through him—primitive and powerful. Not just because she was beautiful. She had a tender way with the baby that blew him away. And when he looked at her mouth…All he could think about was kissing her to see if she still tasted as sweet and sexy as he remembered.

But giving in to the temptation was counterproductive. They shared a child and he was struggling to find a foothold in fatherhood. It didn’t take top secret intel to know that Kate wasn’t overly keen on him being around. His reaction to the fact that she’d talked to his brother hadn’t helped.

He’d seen her surprise, the questions and doubts. The thing was, it had surprised him, too. He didn’t care about his wife cheating on him with his brother. Not any more. But something about Kate in the same room with Preston Morgan had made his blood boil. And he knew she was watching him. One false move and he was out of there. Or at least she’d try to get him out.

He snapped the onesy and pulled on the tiny denim shorts. “Your old man is getting the hang of this, pal.”

In response, J.T. waved his arms, and when his hands accidentally bumped, he became totally absorbed in his fingers. As if he’d never seen them before.

“Come on. Let’s go see your mom.”

Joe lifted the boy into his arms and walked back to the living room where Kate was folding clothes.

“Hi, big boy,” she said smiling.

“I’m going to assume you mean J.T.,” he teased.

“What was your first clue?”

“The tone.” Not once in the time they’d spent together had she called him big boy and if she had, there would have been a sultry, sexy sound wrapped around the syllables.

The pink in her cheeks told him her thoughts were following a similar track. “He looks happy now,” she said, changing the subject.

That was okay with him. It was stupid to think about the past, let alone bring it up. Neither of them wanted to go there. But every time he saw her, there was no stopping the visions of tangled legs and twisted sheets. His brain circuits overheated and the comments he kept in a mental holding pattern flew out of his mouth.

Joe set the baby on the blanket in the middle of the floor and handed him a rattle, which he grabbed and stuck in his mouth. Talking about their son was safe territory. He sat down beside him, at Kate’s feet. She reached into the laundry basket and pulled out a small garment.

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