The Coltons: Fisher, Ryder & Quinn: Soldier's Secret Child. Caridad Pineiro

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СКАЧАТЬ with his thumbs, brought his forehead to rest against hers once again and repeated his promise.

      “It will be okay. We will make sure that everything is put to right.”

      As she nodded and gazed up at him, her brown eyes shimmering from her spent tears, he realized she believed in that promise. Believed in him.

      His heart constricted again at the trust she had in him and he vowed to do his best not to disappoint her which meant that as difficult as it might be, they had to decide what to do about T.J.

       Chapter 16

      An open bottle of wine sat on the kitchen counter and he poured them each a small glass before making them a quick dinner.

      Macy had protested, saying she wasn’t hungry, but he had insisted. She needed to keep her strength up so that they would be ready to figure out what T.J. was doing and where he might have taken Sara, since both of them now had no doubt that he knew where the girl was.

      Between the trip to the Amarillo Rose and the stop at the ranch, it was already dusk. T.J. had likely been gone for hours and what made the most sense was for them to refuel, get some rest and prepare to find T.J. the next day.

      He also insisted on Macy helping him, hoping that the simple chores would help take her mind off things. As they worked together in the kitchen, he intentionally kept the talk away from T.J., wanting Macy to relax. If she felt more at ease, it might prompt some idea of where T.J. might have hidden Sara.

      While Macy chopped onions and red peppers for the omelets, Fisher took out the eggs and found some bread to toast.

      “There’s only six eggs,” he said, glancing down at the plastic egg tray from the refrigerator.

      “There’s only two of us,” Macy replied with surprise.

      “A man’s got to get his protein,” he said with a smile and rummaged through her fridge until he found a ham steak. Taking it out, he walked with it to the island counter where she was working and laid it before her.

      “If the veggies are ready—”

      “They are,” she said and handed him the cutting board with the chopped peppers and onions. She grabbed another so she could cut up the ham.

      “I’ll get them cooking up,” he said and little by little, with the two of them working side by side, the omelet and toast took shape.

      Within less than half an hour, they were seated at the table, eating a delicious omelet. Silent as they finished the simple meal and sipped the last of the wine in the bottle. After, they cleared the table and cleaned the dishes together at the sink.

      By the time they had finished, Macy was obviously more in control. More relaxed and truthfully, so was he. Being beside her…

      It made him imagine what it would be like to have a family of his own. To do everyday things together like they had tonight. Simple things which somehow brought a peace to his heart that he hadn’t experienced in some time.

      She walked him to the door, but then they both stood there, awkward. Uncertain. Lingering at the door, heads hanging downward. He wondered if she was as reluctant as he about all that had happened that day. About leaving her, although he was hesitant to admit that.

      “Fisher,” she said, her voice rising in question although she didn’t pick up her head.

      He bent a little, trying to see her face, but couldn’t in the dim light of the bulb at the front door. He placed his thumb and forefinger beneath her chin and gently tipped it upward so that he could see her face.

      “Macy?”

      She kept her eyes downcast as she said, “I don’t want to be alone tonight. Would you stay?”

      Stay. With her?

      It tightened his gut to imagine being with her. Lying beside her and yet…

      She was vulnerable and he was…decidedly too puzzled about what she made him feel. Regardless of all that, as she finally tipped her eyes up shyly and the need there slammed into him, he realized he couldn’t deny her request.

      “I’ll stay.”

      As they walked back into her home, he finally took the time to appreciate her house’s simplicity. No fripperies or excessive feminine touches. He wondered if she had kept this home simple and feminine-free for Tim and T.J. If it was the kind of house she wanted or one she had settled for because of the men in her life.

      Was this the kind of house they would have shared if things had been different or if she would have taken the time to stamp their home with her unique personality.

      As she opened the door to her bedroom, he finally saw traces of her.

      He knew little about design, so the best he could do was call it feminine. Lacey things adorned the rich mahogany furniture in the room. Floral curtains were at the two windows and a bedspread with a similar pattern of roses covered a queen-sized bed. To the far right of the bed sat a big soft chair and ottoman in a floral chintz pattern. A romance novel sat on the ottoman. The cover was up with the open pages facing the ottoman, marking the spot where she had stopped reading.

      Macy paused in the middle of the room and gestured to a door at the other end. “The bathroom’s in there in case you need to…you know.”

      He didn’t need to do anything, but decided to give her a moment to collect herself. With a courteous nod, he went to the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

      The decor of the bathroom was even more feminine. Lace decorated the one window and the light rose-colored towels were adorned with beige lace. A painted wrought-iron stand by the bathtub was fanciful as was another by the window which held an assortment of African violets blooming in shades of purple and pink.

      He smiled at the flowers, which added so much life to the space, and walked over to touch the velvety surface of one bloom. Soft and lush. Like Macy’s skin.

      Wrong, wrong, wrong, he reminded himself. He needed to be in control if he was going to survive the night.

      He walked to the pedestal sink, turned on the cold water and splashed his face with it over and over again until he had restored control.

      Drying his face and hands with one of the very feminine towels, he then folded it neatly and laid it on the rack to dry.

      When he walked back into her bedroom, her door was closed and the room was dimly lit by one small lamp on a nightstand by the bed. Macy was on top of the covers, fully clothed, her back turned toward the bathroom.

      He wrung his hands nervously, then wiped them up and down on his jeans before taking a stutter step toward the bed.

      She turned at the sound he made, leaned back on one hand as he approached. Her brown-eyed gaze looked him up and down, hesitant but hungry as he stopped at the edge of the bed.

      “Are you sure?” he asked.

      “I don’t want to be alone tonight. I haven’t been alone СКАЧАТЬ