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Friends, Lovers...And Babies! (The Baby Bet #2) Page 5
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“That’s fine,” the woman said pleasantly. “Thank you so much.”
Deedee hurried away, willing her trembling legs to get her to the stool behind the counter. Safely seated, she drew a steadying breath.
Ryan MacAllister, she thought, narrowing her eyes, was a menace. She wanted him out of her store and far away from her. He pushed sensual buttons within her that she didn’t even know she possessed.
It wasn’t important.
Have you got that yet, Deedee Hamilton? she thought angrily. She was in control of her life. She decided on the boundaries when she was involved with someone. If a man wanted a serious commitment from her, she sent him shuffling off to Buffalo. Men did not dictate to her in the areas of emotional and physical responses.
Nice spiel, she thought dryly. Her little mental speech was true, had been for years. Then Ryan MacAllister had come into her life and wreaked havoc with her program.
No, now wait a minute. It was even worse than that, more ridiculous and unexplainable.
Ryan had not just come into her life, he’d been there for several years. She’d known him, spoken to him, seen his gorgeous self, watched him interact with his family. He wasn’t a complete stranger who appeared on her doorstep and threw her for a loop.
So why, why, why was she suddenly having a sexual response to him?
Oh, good grief, she didn’t know. Didn’t have a clue. Forget her conclusion that it was healthy. Absurd was closer to the mark. She was a mental mess, and had to formulate a plan for handling this nonsense.
She squinted at the ceiling.
When a person caught a cold, she mused, they had to resign themself to the fact that there was nothing they could do but let it run its course. They could take precautions, such as getting plenty of rest and drinking juice, but the cold was going to diminish, then finally disappear, in its own sweet time.
“Therefore,” she said aloud, pointing one finger in the air. She was going to consider her reactions to Ryan as she would the common cold. Her uncharacteristic behavior and responses were simply going to have to be allowed to run their course. She obviously couldn’t order them into oblivion any more than she could the sniffles.
Precautions could and would be taken. Oh, my, yes. She’d make sure she wasn’t alone with Ryan, and she’d stay on alert and in complete touch with herself. Her sudden awareness of Ryan as a man, rather than just another MacAllister, would dim, flicker, then—poof—be gone.
And that, thank you very much, would be that.
Deedee really didn’t care diddly why it had all happened in the first place, as long as it vanished.
Goodness, she felt so much better. She was back in control of herself, under her own command.
Everything was fine and dandy.
Chapter Four
The next afternoon, Ryan signed his name to a typed bid for the security system he was recommending to Deedee for Books and Books.
He leaned back in the creaking office chair and laced his fingers behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.
To properly submit a bid from MacAllister Security Systems, he couldn’t just drop it in the mail. Although he didn’t use terminology to describe the equipment to be used that would be like a foreign language to the average citizen, there were invariably options to consider and more than one type of system available. This created questions that needed to be answered.
It was his policy, therefore, to make an appointment with the prospective client and thoroughly explain the suggested systems, as well as answer any questions that might arise.
It was up to him to take care of that part of the business, as neither his secretary, nor the two installers, had any experience in verbally presenting a bid.
Which meant, he knew, that he had to once again meet with Deedee Hamilton on a one-to-one basis.
Ryan got to his feet and went to the window, looking out over the parking lot that fronted the row of small, single-story offices in the complex. He folded his arms across his chest and frowned, not really seeing what was within his view.
The current situation with Deedee was disturbing and ridiculous. He was an ex-cop who had faced danger, even death, on more than one occasion in the past. He was physically strong, mentally alert and had sharp, quick reflexes, all of which had held him in good stead during his years on the police force.
And at this moment, this point in time, he’d rather walk into a dark alley where he knew some thugs were waiting to jump him than open the door to Books and Books and enter that store.
Yeah, really ridiculous.
He shook his head and returned to the chair, his frown deepening.
How was it possible that a woman, who probably didn’t weigh more than a hundred and twenty pounds, could have him shaking in his shorts, wanting to put as much distance as he could between them?
Deedee caused him to act and react beyond his own control. His size, strength and police training weren’t worth a damn when he was in close proximity to Deedee. She tied him in knots, took up space in his brain, made his body hot and hard with the physical want of her.
Hell, she even had freckles on her nose that were so damn cute he couldn’t help but smile when he saw them, and big, brown eyes like a delicate fawn.
Ryan muttered an earthy expletive, then propped his elbows on the worn arms of the chair and made a steeple of his fingers. He narrowed his eyes and concentrated on the problem at hand.
He didn’t know why Deedee Hamilton could turn him inside out. It wasn’t as though he’d been knocked for a loop by a woman he’d just met. That would be bad enough, because he had no intention of allowing anyone to take Sherry’s place. But Deedee? He’d known her for several years. Why was she getting to him now?
He’d managed to escape from Books and Books yesterday without talking to her further. She’d been busy with a customer, so he’d left his card on the counter, along with a hastily written note saying he’d be in touch soon with the bid.
He’d hightailed it out of there so fast that an observer might surmise that a dozen pit bulls were nipping at his heels.
Damn it, he had to get a grip on this mess. Deedee wasn’t going to disappear into thin air. She was considered a part of the MacAllister clan, and would be in attendance at family gatherings in the future. He needed to figure out what plan of action would result in him regaining control of his responses to Deedee and return things to normal.
“Yes,” he said aloud.
Yes…what? What was the plan?
Okay, MacAllister, try this. When he’d been a kid, his mother had limited how much candy her brood could eat. In a rebellious move, he’d spent the money he’d earned from his paper route on a huge stash of candy that he’d hidden—crummy criminal that he’d been—under his pillow. His mother had discovered the illegal bounty the next day when she’d changed the sheets on his bed.
Wise woman that Margaret MacAllister was, she’d calmly informed him that at ten years old it was time for him to make more of his own decisions. He could, therefore, keep the candy and consume it with no interference whatsoever from her.
Puffed up with his newly authorized independence, he’d proceeded to eat the entire bag of candy in one sitting. Several hours later, he was convinced he was dying, he wouldn’t live until morning. To say he’d been sick was putting it mildly.
Now then, Ryan thought, he needed to apply the lesson learned by that scenario to the dilemma with Deedee. Instead of trying to keep out of her way, put distance between them, he should do just the opposite. He’d see her, be with her, as much as possible. He’d overdose on Deedee, just as he’d done years before on candy.
“Excellent,” he said. “Brilliant.”
After surviving his candy binge, he’d realized he’d do very well with the occasional treat his mother provided. Candy once again took its proper place in his life.
The same principle applied to Deedee Hamilton. By sticking to her like Super Glue he’d be able, in a very short time he was convinced,
to view her as the friendly, pleasant woman she was, but who had no particular effect on him.
“MacAllister,” he said with a rush of relief, “you’re such a genius, you’re awesome.”
Ryan was jolted from his self-congratulatory reverie by the office door suddenly being opened.
Ted Sharpe entered the room. Ryan’s former partner on the police force was tall, blond and tanned. Handsome and nicely built, as well, he never lacked for female company.
“Hey,” Ryan said, smiling, “how’s it going? What are you doing here in your spiffy cop clothes?”
“I just got off duty,” Ted said, sinking onto a wooden chair in front of the desk. “There’s a flu bug sweeping through the department and we’re short on healthy bodies. I pulled a double shift. I’m headed for home and some much-needed sleep. Man, it was nuts out there. The radio was squawking almost continually. That new restaurant by the park got ripped off, by the way.”
“No kidding? They get much?”
“Didn’t go near the cash drawer. They took a valuable painting off the wall, then split. The owner had hung it there to impress his fancy patrons. What it did was impress some sleaze, and now they have it. All we can do is hope one of the fences who keeps us informed of business on the streets will come through with some information.”
“Sounds like the scum are trying for class. You know, showing they have culture, good taste. It’s always nice to witness people attempting to improve themselves.”
“Cute,” Ted said, then paused. “Mel Poley, the guy they hired to take your place when you quit the force, gave thirty days’ notice today. He’s going over to Denver because he likes to ski. I won’t miss him, believe me. As a partner he didn’t cut it for me.”
“So you’ve said many times. He’s trigger happy.”
“In spades. Your old spot will be open again, Ryan. I want you as my partner again, man. Captain Bolstad would hire you back in a New York minute.”
“Don’t start, Ted,” Ryan said wearily. “We’ve been over this turf a hundred times.”
“I haven’t said one word about it for at least six months.”
Ryan glared at him. “Go for another six.”
“Come on, Ryan, at least think about it, will you? I don’t care how many times you’ve told me you’re doing fine sitting behind that desk, I still don’t believe it. You liked being a cop, and you’re a damn good one. You quit in a knee-jerk reaction to what happened to Sherry, but you quit on life back then, too. Things are different for you now.”
“Finished?” Ryan said, his jaw tightening slightly.
“Yeah,” Ted said, “I suppose.” He got to his feet. “I’m outta here, but…damn it, MacAllister, you’re so stubborn. If you’d be honest with yourself, really honest, you’d admit you miss being a cop. Not only that, we were good together, great partners. We were so in tune that we practically read each other’s minds when we came up against something we had to handle. Perfect partners, that’s what we were, and now your old spot is opening up. That’s fate. It’s time for you to come back where you belong.”
“Goodbye, Ted.”
“Hell.” Ted started toward the door, then stopped, half turning to look at Ryan again. “How was the party for the twins?”
“Fine, great. Those cop teddy bears you got them were a hit with the dynamic duo.”
“I should buy you one and tape it to your desk. You’d realize soon enough that you belong in one of those uniforms, too.”
“Lighten up, Ted,” Ryan said, a warning tone now evident in his voice.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Are you busy tomorrow night?” Ryan asked. “The whole clan is meeting for pizza in connection with The Baby Bet Forrest has going about Jillian.”
Ryan related The Baby Bet details, and Ted whooped with laughter.
“Forrest is dead meat,” Ted said. “Three girls? Even if twins do run in your family, triplets are a whole new ball game, predicting in the big leagues. Ole Forrest is about to lose The Baby Bet for the first time, and you’d better believe I’ll be at Mario’s to witness it. Are you going?”
Ryan shrugged. “Thought I would.”
“Really? That surprises me.”
“It surprises me, but what the hell, why not? We can watch Forrest eat crow while we have pizza.”
“Yep. Well, I’m off to get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow night. Think about what I said before, Ryan. You and I could be partners again, just like it used to be. See ya.”
“Yeah,” Ryan said quietly as Ted left the room. “See ya.”
Ryan continued to stare at the open doorway. Just like it used to be, Ryan’s mind echoed. Nothing would ever be like it used to be. When Sherry had been killed, his whole life had fallen apart, lost purpose and meaning.
So, yeah, Ted was right when he’d said Ryan had resigned from the force in a knee-jerk reaction to Sherry’s violent death. He’d admitted that to himself many months ago. He hadn’t wanted to be a cop anymore after the nightmare that had happened. He hadn’t wanted anything but to be left alone.
Ryan glanced around the small, sparsely furnished office.
MacAllister Security Systems was doing all right. He was getting new customers all the time and was establishing a reputation for top-of-the-line installations. He never attempted to sell someone more than they needed in order to accomplish what they were after, and he guaranteed his work.
Yes, his fledgling company was prospering.
And as the days passed into weeks, then months, he was becoming more and more bored. The challenge of starting a business from scratch had probably saved his sanity at the time he’d done it. He owed his family and Ted a helluva lot for hauling him out of his alcohol-induced haze and trashed apartment when they did.
But now? There was a flat-line sameness to each day, nothing that made him eager to get out of bed in the morning and come to the office.
He picked up a pencil and rolled it back and forth between his palms, staring at it absently.
Ted was his best friend, knew him better than his own family did. They’d spent a lot of hours together in that patrol car over the years and had talked about all and everything. Each knew he would risk his life for the other, and that fact took friendship to a depth that ordinary men didn’t experience on a daily basis.
Yes, Ted Sharpe knew him very well. Ted Sharpe knew that his buddy, Ryan MacAllister, was stagnating in an office. Ted Sharpe knew that Ryan wanted to be a police officer again so badly he could taste it.
Ryan snapped the pencil in two, then flung the pieces into the metal wastebasket next to the desk.
“Satisfied, Sharpe?” he said aloud to no one. “I admitted it. Okay?”
He sank back in the chair, and dragged his hands down his face.
So? he asked himself. Why wasn’t he on the telephone to Captain Bolstad? Why wasn’t he saying to the man in charge that he wanted to apply for his former position as Ted’s partner on the force?
Because he was scared.
Because he broke out in a cold sweat just thinking about it.
He wasn’t afraid of the physical danger that went along with putting on the uniform and gun. Facing possible injury or death wasn’t what held him in an iron fist, kept him captive in that shabby little office.
It was the fear of caring.
It was the fear of awakening emotions that he had shut down, put into a hibernating sleep.
A good cop—and he was a damn good cop—had to care about the people who cried for help, who needed his expertise, who were counting on him to make everything all right. Each time he responded to a call, he put not just his body on the line, but his emotions, as well. That was what it took to be the kind of cop that he and Ted were.
He had cared deeply in the past, not only as a police officer, but as a man. He had loved. Sherry. When she had died, he’d felt as though he were slowly bleeding to death, his life’s purpose leaving him drop by painful drop.
If he opened those door
s again, tore down the protective walls by rejoining the police force, the ramifications would go far beyond when he was just wearing the uniform.
There would be no halfway measures he could take. If he allowed himself to once again be vulnerable as a cop, it would encompass his entire being, the part of him that was simply a man, as well.
No!
He couldn’t, wouldn’t, do it.
He had no intention of ever again stripping himself bare, having no defenses. Not ever.
Deedee Hamilton was, for some unknown reason, triggering physical reactions in him that he’d been certain he’d put into cold storage with his emotions. But he had formulated a plan to defuse Deedee’s unsettling impact on him. The basic principle of overkill was going to remedy that nagging nuisance of a situation in short order.
With a decisive nod, Ryan flipped open a file on his desk. He then spent the next ten minutes rummaging through his desk in search of a new pencil.
The next morning, Ryan was at Books and Books ten minutes after Deedee opened the store. She was standing behind the counter, sipping coffee from a ceramic mug, which she set down in order to greet Ryan.
“Good morning,” she said, smiling.
There went her heart again, she realized, suddenly beating in a rapid tempo as though she’d just jogged a mile. Well, fine, let it go nuts. She had her reactions to Ryan all figured out. She must remember the theory of the common cold having to run its course. My, my, wouldn’t Mr. MacAllister pitch a fit if he knew she’d categorized him along with a germ?
“How are you this morning, Ryan?”
Totally in control, Ms. Cute Freckles on Your Nose, Ryan thought smugly.
“I’m very well, thank you,” he said, then placed a dark blue folder on the counter. “I have the bid you wanted for the security system. You can study it, then get back to me with any questions you might have. Or we can go over it together now. Which would you prefer to…” His voice trailed off as his glance fell on the coffee mug. “Where did you get that?”
“Get what?” she said, totally confused.
“That mug.”