Extreme Measures

“He wanted—no, he demanded—that I give up coaching. He said it was past time for me to quit chasing a dream, to get a real job, to be the kind of husband you deserved.”

Richard McIver had berated Colin for even considering the coaching job, insisting that a woman like Nikki needed security and stability, not the kind of nomad existence his career would entail.

But without his career, Colin had nothing to offer his wife. So he’d taken the job, she’d stayed in Fairweather, and their marriage had become a casualty of geographical distance.

And his father had died as he’d lived: angry with and disappointed in his youngest son.

“I’m sorry, Colin.”

“So am I,” he said. “About so many things.”

He rubbed his thumb over her third finger, where his ring had once sat. “I thought you would have married again.”

She tugged her hand, but he didn’t release his hold.

“And I thought ‘till death do us part’ meant something longer than ten months.”

He winced at the direct hit. “I guess I deserved that.”

“What do you want me to say, Colin? Do you want me to tell you that there’s no one else in my life because I haven’t been able to forget about you? Well, I haven’t. I haven’t forgotten how devastated I was when you walked out on me, and I won’t ever risk going through that again.”

“I am sorry.”

She shrugged off his apology, glanced at her watch. “Your half hour’s almost up.”

Colin pushed back his chair and rose to his feet with her. He knew he should be grateful she’d even been willing to sit down and have a conversation with him. After five years, it was more than he’d had a right to expect. But it wasn’t nearly enough.

He walked with her across the street back to the clinic parking lot. She stopped beside her car, turned to face him. “Thanks for the coffee.”

So this was it then—the brush-off. He’d expected it, but he wasn’t prepared for it. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—believe that there was nothing left for them.

Testing her, maybe testing himself, he lifted his hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear and allowed his fingers to graze her cheek as he pulled back. He heard her sharp intake of breath, knew the casual contact had sparked something inside her. It had sure as hell stoked the fire that burned inside him.

“Is it really so easy to walk away?” he asked.

The warmth in her eyes cooled considerably. “You tell me.”

“No.” He dropped his hands to her slender waist, struggled against the impulse to pull her tight against his body. Events of the past few days had shown Colin how short life could be, and he didn’t want to waste any more time. He also knew if he moved too fast, he’d scare her off. “Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“But you did it.”

“I thought it was the best thing for both of us.” He stroked his hands down over her hips slowly, then back to her waist, his thumbs skimming her ribs. “Now I know I was wrong. Because even after five years, I can’t forget the way it was between us.”

“That was a long time ago, Colin.”

“It could be like that again.”

She started to shake her head.

He didn’t want to hear the protest he knew was coming, so he silenced her the most effective way he knew—with his mouth.

He felt her stiffen, but she didn’t pull away. In fact, her eyelids had just started to lower when the shrill ring of his cell phone intruded.

Later that evening, as Nikki sat alone on the front porch of her home, she would admit—if only to herself—that she’d never experienced with another man the kind of desire she’d felt just being held by Colin. The simple anticipation of his kiss had heated her blood more quickly and completely than any other man’s kisses ever had.

The physical attraction worried her. She’d never been the type of woman to let her hormones overrule her common sense. Except with Colin. The only man who could make her heart soar with a simple look, an innocent touch, was the only man who’d ever broken that same heart.

The thought terrified her, as did the realization that there was so much more at stake than just her heart this time.

She’d always known it was possible that he might come back someday. But it had been a remote concern, almost unreal, so long as he was halfway across the country. Now that he was here, she knew it was time to face the deception she’d lived with every day for the past five years.

She had to tell him. She couldn’t keep the secret any longer—she wasn’t sure she even wanted to. But knowing what she had to do didn’t make it any easier to find the right words.

Colin, you have a child.

It sounded simple enough, except that Carly was her child. Nikki was the one who’d been there every day of Carly’s life: when she’d cut her first tooth, taken her first step. She’d been the one to sit up with Carly through sleepless nights, to kiss her scraped knees, to worry over every cough and fever.

Still, she knew that biology gave him certain rights, not the least of which was the right to know he’d fathered a child. She had wanted to tell him about Carly years ago. She’d wanted to save her marriage, to be with the man she’d loved, but she’d refused to use their baby to do so. She’d loved Colin fiercely, completely, and it would have devastated her to know that he’d only stayed with her for their daughter.

So she’d kept her pregnancy a secret, consented to the divorce, and a few months later, she’d given birth to Carly.

Now he was back, and everything seemed to be spinning out of her control.

She heard the sound of a car approaching, breathed a sigh of relief that Arden was finally home from her meeting at the women’s shelter. Arden Doherty was her cousin, her roommate, and her best friend. And she was the only person Nikki could talk to about the chaos that had come to town with her ex-husband.

Nikki turned around as the vehicle pulled into the driveway. Her heart pounded frantically against her ribs as she realized it wasn’t Arden’s car. And it wasn’t her cousin who got out of the car.

It was Colin.

Her easy smile froze; panic clawed at her throat.

The shock of finding Colin outside the clinic where she worked didn’t compare to the sense of terror building inside as he moved toward the front porch of the house where she lived. Where their little girl was sleeping inside.

What was he doing here?

And more importantly, how quickly could she get him to leave?

She fought against the panic, forced her tone to remain neutral. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped onto the porch, leaned a shoulder against one of the upright posts. “Haven’t we already had this conversation today?”

“And didn’t we say everything we needed to say?” she countered.

He took a step closer, deliberately invading her personal space. “I think we have some unfinished business.”

His gaze dropped to her lips, and she knew he was thinking about kissing her again. Just as she knew she couldn’t let it happen.

She lifted her hands to his chest, intent on pushing him away. She could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the unyielding strength of his muscles, the thunderous beating of his heart.