mysterious. He wore biker boots and faded jeans with an unbuttoned black shirt over his black T-shirt. She had a sudden flashback to the day she’d first seen him, appearing out of nowhere in the door of her shop, leaning against the frame and watching her, looking at her like no man ever had, before or since.
She’d been so stunned by the sight of him that she’d dropped ground pork into the ground beef bin. She should have turned tail right then and run for the hills. Except, then she wouldn’t have Zak and Nate, and she couldn’t regret them, not ever, not for a second.
“Someone will bring us food.” Reid stayed sprawled on the couch. “If you give me a list of what you need for your boys, I’ll call it in.”
“Our boys,” she corrected.
He looked up at her with his cinnamon eyes narrowed, his thick lashes shading them. He had a chiseled face and lips that could… Lips that said he’d been born to be wild. “I don’t think so.”
Anger spread through her veins. “You think I’m lying about this?”
“I know you are. Look, I was going to give it some time and figure out why you’re doing it, but I’m tired. There’s a lot going on right now. I’ll be leaving in a little while, handing you over to someone else. So let’s cut through the games, and you tell me what you’re up to.”
“We slept together.” She still thought about that night nearly every day. The possibility that he might have forgotten was humiliating.
But he said, “Believe me, I remember that part,” his voice dropping a notch.
Heat crept into her face.
“But I’m telling you, honey, I can’t have kids.”
“Well, I’m telling you that you can, and you have,” she snapped.
He watched her for a good long time, those piercing eyes doing their best to unnerve her. “I can’t figure out the angle. Best I can come up with is that you had someone shortly after me, got pregnant, he took off and you told everyone the kids were mine since I was dead and I couldn’t argue. Was he married?”
Anger progressed to cold fury. She strode into the kitchen for a glass of water. “Go to hell,” she called back.
He came after her, turned her around by the shoulders, held her gaze and pulled up his T-shirt all the way to his neck.
Her throat went dry. She wanted to look away. She couldn’t.
“Been there.” His voice rasped. “And got the burn marks to prove it.”
She swallowed a gasp at the sight of his mangled flesh. Blinked hard when she thought of the pure male perfection that he’d been the last time she’d seen his chest. All of that was gone now, angry, violent welts crisscrossing his skin.
For a moment, she forgot how mad she was at him for faking his death, for leaving her alone to deal with everything that came after, for denying their children. Her gaze slipped higher. “What’s that on your shoulder?”
“This?” He flicked his thumb over the scar. “This is where my collarbone came through. The bastards broke a couple of bones before they set me on fire.” He pulled his shirt down, covering it all.
And yes, he was still an unfair jerk for questioning her word about the twins, but the fight went out of her all of a sudden. This day and age, if he really wanted to know, paternity could be easily proven. But from what she’d seen of him so far, she didn’t think she would want him in her life, in her babies’ lives. She wanted safe and normal.
The good news was, he didn’t look like he wanted to be part of her life either. He wouldn’t even acknowledge their babies. One second she felt disappointment in that, the next she felt relief. She suspected she’d settle into relief once her mind calmed a little.
“The boys should be fine for a couple of days,” she said. “I packed enough food and diapers for them. How long do you think we have to stay here? Tomorrow’s Sunday so the shop isn’t open, but if I can’t come in Monday, I’ll have to make arrangements.” She had two part-time