Colonel Daddy

“Hi, Dad, what’s up?”

Way too much to go into over the phone, he thought. His fingers toyed with the curly telephone cord. “A change in plans. I can’t make dinner tonight”

“Your loss,” his daughter informed him. “I’m making Grandma’s lasagna.”

He smiled at the receiver. “Rain check?”

“Naturally,” she said. “Anything wrong? You sound funny.”

Funny? No, he didn’t. He sounded exactly what he was. Terrified. But he wasn’t going to say anything to Donna and her husband, First Sergeant Jack Harris, until he and Kate had had time to talk this whole thing out

“No,” he assured her. “Nothing’s wrong.” Then, because his whirlwind courtship was about to start, and she might as well start getting used to the idea, he said as casually as possible. “Actually, I have a date.”

“Intriguing,” his too-sharp daughter said. “Bachelor Colonel with a date. I haven’t even seen you look at a woman since your barbecue a few months ago.”

Just before his last trip to Japan, Tom remembered. He’d actually toyed with the idea of dating a woman he saw more than once a year. But, after dinner and a movie, he’d discovered that as nice as the woman was, she wasn’t Kate.

“Who is she?” Donna prompted. “Anyone I know?”

“Major Katherine Jennings,” he answered, and added silently, Kate. The woman I’ve been having an affair with for three years. The mother of your new little brother or sister. Oh, man.

“Nope,” Donna told him. “Don’t know her.”

You will, he thought, but said only, “I’ve gotta go, kiddo.”

“Okay, but you owe me,” she warned. “Dinner here, next week?”

“Deal.” Already moving to hang up, he said, “Say hello to Jack.”

“Okay. ‘Bye, Dad.”

He set the phone down, Donna’s last word ringing in his ears. Dad. Lord, he’d been a lousy parent the first time around. He swallowed back the knot of bitterness that always threatened to choke him when he recalled those lost years with Donna.

As teenagers he and Donna’s mother had married with the best of intentions, only to see their relationship die within a couple of years. After the divorce, he’d concentrated solely on his career, moving up in the ranks—and he’d missed so much of Donna’s childhood, he’d hardly known her when she had come to live with him when she was thirteen.

Shame simmered inside him, pushing him to his feet and demanding he move. He paced, unconsciously following the same path Kate’s heels had trod only a few minutes ago.

Pregnant

It had taken years to rebuild a relationship with Donna. Years filled with anxiety, frustration and the fear that he would never be able to overcome the “parenting” lessons he’d absorbed from his own father.

And now it would all start again. A knot of tension tightened in his gut Was it fair to saddle some poor innocent baby with him as a father?

Just like the last time he’d gotten married, the bride would be carrying his child. God. Hadn’t he learned anything in his forty-five years?

He rubbed both hands across his face viciously. A grown man, and he’d been as irresponsible as he had been at seventeen. A sad thing to note about yourself, he thought.

But instantly that night in Japan rolled back into his mind.

The two of them, locked together on that tiny balcony. Kate’s flesh beneath his hands, her legs locked around his middle, the hot, tight feel of her body embracing his. In memory, he saw her head fall back, her lips form his name as another climax tore through her. He should have stopped then. Should have pulled away long enough to make sure she was safe. But he didn’t. His greed for her had spilled through him, and he could no more have left her—even for a moment—than he could have stopped breathing on command.

So instead, with the sounds of the city far below them and the soft glow of the moon and a trillion stars above them, they’d created a life.

A life that had a right to expect a few little things like security and love from its parents.

Three

Tom pulled up in front of the small duplex, parked beneath the lamppost, set the brake and turned off the ignition. Opening the door, he pocketed the keys and slid out of his new truck.

Idly he ran one hand over the flashy red paint that looked a dingy gray in the weird glow of the yellow fog light. The day he’d bought it, just a month ago, he’d actually called Donna, to tease her about the “new baby” in his life.

A short laugh shot from his throat. New baby had suddenly taken on a completely different meaning.

He could just imagine the look on Donna’s and her husband’s faces when he announced the arrival of her little brother. Or sister.

Shaking his head, he started around the front of the car. A muffled roar of sound rolled toward him. Out of the darkness, four young boys appeared as shadows in the gloom, then sailed past him, ably surfing the asphalt on skateboards.

Their laughter hung in the air for a long minute after they were gone, and Tom stared after them. Skateboarding. In the dark. Fearlessly pitting themselves against drivers who would have a hard time spotting them in their blue jeans and sweatshirts.

A cold chill swept over him. The kids couldn’t have been more than ten, tops. When his child was ten, Tom would be fifty-five. Nearly sixty. He groaned tightly. How in the hell would he be able to keep up with the kid?

Shaking his head at the thought, he turned to stare at the small, neat apartments in front of him. A singlestory, craftsman-style duplex, ‘Kate had told him hers was the one on the right. Tom shifted his gaze to the square of lamplight making the blue drapes across a wide front window glow with a nearly serene light. He tried to imagine her there, inside.

He should have come by sooner. Called her. He’d wanted to. But she was right. This did feel awkward. Sure, they’d known each other for three years. But they’d only spent three weeks of that time together.

In the month she’d been on base, Tom had hardly seen her. He’d deliberately kept his distance, wanting to give her time to settle in. To get used to the idea of their being in such close quarters for the first time.

But it had taken every ounce of his self-control to keep from calling her, talking to her. Honestly, he’d wanted to give her time to decide if she even wanted to continue the affair that had come to mean so much to him over the past three years.

Now, it seemed the choice had been made for her.

Dragging in a deep breath of sea-flavored air, he started for the front door. Along the way, he noted the neat flower border that lined the narrow, curved walk. Tiny statues of squirrels, chipmunks and rabbits dotted one half of the thumbnail-sized front lawn, and he smiled, wondering if Kate had set them out or if they belonged to her neighbor.

How little he knew about her, the person, he mused. Oh, he knew that rubbing the back of her knee lightly would make her purr in pleasure. But he didn’t know the simple things. For instance, what was her favorite color?

What the hell kind of relationship was this?

Two front doors met him. The door on the left, painted a bright blue, also sported a wild-looking wreath made of dried flowers and boasting a stuffed canary on its straw ribbon. He glanced at it and it opened.

A small, older woman in skintight pink pants topped by a neon yellow sweatshirt stepped out onto her porch. She looked up at him, smiled and instantly lifted one hand to unnecessarily smooth her chic, silver hair. “Well,” she said, her tone openly interested. “Hello. I heard you walk up, thought you were one of the girls. But you’re most definitely not, so just exactly who are you?”

“Tom Candello, ma’am,” he said, and couldn’t help noticing when she winced slightly at the “ma’am.”

She recovered quickly though and, stepping toward him, she held out her right hand. “Evie Bozeman,” she said, giving him a wide smile. “You’re here to see Kate, then?”

“That’s right,” he said, and snapped a quick look at the still-closed door on the right.

“And are you a Marine, too?” she practically cooed at him.