Building Dreams Page 5

  Staring out into space, Ryan rubbed his hands over Tess's shoulders in slow circles. He had given Julia all that. Willingly. Gladly. Hell, he'd been downright enthralled by the whole process.

  He had held his wife's head and commiserated with her during morning sickness, rubbed her back when it ached, assisted her when it became awkward to rise from a chair, ! tied her shoes. When advanced pregnancy had forced her to make several trips a night to the bathroom he had helped her out of bed and waited outside the door to assist her back into it. Many times in the small hours of the morning he had dressed and gone out in search of whatever special food would satisfy her weird cravings.

  Tess Benson was alone, with no one to do those things for her. Ryan wondered how she coped.

  Despite her swollen abdomen—which he could feel pressing against his middle—she was surprisingly slender. She was a little thing, he realized. The top of her head didn't even reach his chin, and as he ran his hands up and down her back, he noticed that her shoulder blades and ribs seemed incredibly delicate, almost fragile. She was soft and utterly feminine, the kind of woman that brought out a man's most basic protective instincts. He was surprised at how pleasant it felt to hold her.

  Ryan's nose twitched. She smelled good, too. Over the acrid odors of exhaust fumes, road dust and hot paving he caught an occasional whiff of the sweet, clean scent that drifted from her hair.

  Mike, Ryan noticed, was watching him intently, just as he always did whenever he was learning a new skill. With a pang, Ryan realized that in the past eight years his son had not once seen him show concern or affection for any woman outside of those within their family. The boy probably truly did not know how to comfort Tess.

  The thought was oddly troubling, and Ryan quickly pushed it aside and set Tess away from him.

  "See, that's all there is to it. So, go on. Take her to the car," he ordered brusquely. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

  Carefully, as though afraid she might break, Mike put his arm around her shoulders. "C'mon, Tess." With awkward but touching solicitude, he led her down the shoulder of the road to the waiting vehicle. Ryan watched them go, his expression thoughtful.

  Tess could not stop crying; she had completely lost control. The Cherokee rocked when Ryan tossed her tires in the back and she let out a startled yelp, but still the tears came. When he climbed in behind the wheel, all she could do was bury her face in his handkerchief and gasp and choke and sob.

  She was mortified. She expected him to berate her, but he merely leaned against the door and waited with surprising patience for the storm of weeping to end.

  After what seemed like an eternity, she managed to pull herself together. Gulping, she wadded his handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes and nose. "I—I'm.. .s-sorry," she mumbled between watery sniffs. "I—I guess I over . . .re-reacted."

  "It's okay. Don't worry about it." Ryan turned the ignition key and started the engine. "Where were you headed?"

  "To the gro-grocery store," she said without thinking. Her head came up. "Oh, but...if you'll just take me ho-home, that will be fine. I'll call the garage to pick up the tires."

  "It's no problem. Mike and I were headed to the store anyway. We'll drop off the tires on the way and save you a road call fee."

  "But-"

  "Don't worry about it," he snapped.

  Tess stared at his hard profile in helpless frustration. Short of jumping out of the moving vehicle, it appeared that she had no choice.

  ❧

  The next hour was the longest, most miserable that Tess could recall. Despite Ryan's assistance, she was still seething over the nasty things he had said to her. During the drive to the store neither spoke. He stared straight ahead, his face so hard it looked as though it had been chiseled from granite. Tess held herself stiff and pressed against the passenger door and did her best to ignore him.

  The instant he parked the vehicle, she scrambled out. She doubted that it would occur to a mannerless oaf like Ryan McCall to open her door for her, but she wasn't taking the chance of him getting that close.

  If he even noticed her hasty action he gave no indication.

  "We'll meet back here in half an hour," he announced when they entered the store. "If you finish first, wait for us."

  "Fine," Tess replied just as tersely, and sent up a silent thanks as they parted company.

  Throughout the store she constantly bumped into the McCalls. She and Ryan tried to ignore one another, but Mike made that impossible. At every encounter he greeted her with a huge grin and a barrage of silly adolescent banter. Even when they weren't in the same aisle, he darted back and forth between Tess and his father. She had the horrible feeling that to the other shoppers they probably looked like a family out for their weekly shopping.

  When they met at the checkout stand, Tess could not help but notice that, other than a few staples, Ryan's cart was filled with frozen foods and microwave dinners. She experienced a pang of sympathy that anyone would have to survive on a steady diet of such tasteless junk. Then she remembered Ryan's rude and vile response the last time she had shown concern over their eating habits, and hardened her heart.

  On the drive home, Tess and Ryan barely uttered a word, but Mike more than made up for her reticence and his father's tight-jawed remoteness. Sitting in the back, the boy leaned forward between the front bucket seats and chattered away about anything and everything. He was so obviously delighted to have her along, it wrung Tess's heart.

  Never had she seen such a welcome sight as their apartment complex. She was all set to grab her groceries and make good her escape, but Ryan foiled her plan.

  "Mike, you take our groceries up. I'm going to help Mrs. Benson with hers," he said before she could get the door open.

  "I can help Tess, Dad."

  "No, I'll do it. I want to talk to her. In private," he added pointedly when Mike opened his mouth to argue further.

  The boy's alarmed gaze skittered back and forth between his father and Tess. " About what? You're not gonna hurt her feel-"

  "That's enough, Mike." Ryan silenced him with a long look. "Take the groceries upstairs like I told you."

  "Oh, all right." His young face set in a sulky pout, Mike hurtled out of the Cherokee, snatched four sacks out of the back and stomped off.

  Tess and Ryan followed. She wanted to protest that she had no desire to talk to him about anything, but since he had come to her rescue she couldn't very well do that. After hefting each sack for weight, he handed her the two lightest and gathered up the rest. Side by side, they climbed the stairs without speaking, their arms laden. With every step, her dread grew.

  Nevertheless, Tess always faced things head-on. If she had a dose of nasty tasting medicine to take, she swallowed it down quickly and got it over with. The instant they set the sacks on her kitchen counter, she turned to Ryan.

  ''You wanted to talk to me, Mr. McCall?" Her face stiff, she stared over his right shoulder, not quite meeting his eyes.

  Ryan studied her, the look on his granite face inscrutable. "I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have said those things to you the other day."

  The statement caught her by surprise. An apology was the last thing she expected. "No, you shouldn't have," she agreed, slanting him a cool look. "So why did you?"

  "At the time, I didn't know you were pregnant. Mike failed to mention that fact. I only made that discovery when saw you standing beside your car this morning."

  Tess stared at him, her jaw slack. "So? What possible difference does that make?"

  "Look, Mrs. Benson—"

  "No, you look. You don't know me at all, Mr. McCall. Yet you were rude and insulting. Your nasty accusations were uncalled for, and most certainly undeserved... .whether or not I happen to be expecting."

  "Okay, okay. Maybe you're right. I guess I did jump to some hasty conclusions," he conceded grudgingly. "But .women aren't very high on my list these days."

  Tess's eyes widened slightly. Now what did that mean? Before she could
ask, Ryan went on.

  "Still, I shouldn't have said what I did. I apologize."

  Tess merely looked at him. It would have been a lot easier to accept his apology if he had not sounded as though he were making it under duress. The terse words were correct, but he spoke them as though they left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  Tess sighed. Ungracious or not, it was an apology. She supposed she would have to accept it, if only for Mike's sake. Besides, she hated strife. And it wasn't good for the fbaby. Unless he moved, she was going to be living next door to this man for years, so the prudent thing was to make peace.

  "Very well, Mr. McCall. Apology accepted. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

  Her lips curved in a stiff smile, and she made a subtle move to escort him to the door. Ryan McCall made her nervous. She hadn't noticed before just how big and overpowering he was. He dominated her small kitchen—with his height and his broad, brawny shoulders, all that brooding, raw masculinity he exuded. He was big and dark and fierce looking, and she was suddenly more anxious than ever to get him out of her apartment.

  "There is one other thing," Ryan said, thwarting her plan.

  "Oh?"

  "Yes. It's about Mike. He's.. .uh.. .very taken with you."

  Unconsciously, Tess's face softened at the mention of the boy, and her smile turned gentle. "I'm very fond of him, too. Mike's a good kid."

  "He's been upset these past few days. He thinks you don't like him anymore.''

  "Mr. McCall-"

  "Look, I understand. You've been avoiding him because of what I said to you. But...well..." Ryan rubbed his nape and grimaced. For the first time, he looked ill at ease. "It's been pointed out to me recently that Mike needs some feminine influence in his life. From his reaction to you, it's difficult to argue with that. So... I just want you to know that I won't object if you do want to befriend him. That is, if you don't mind having him hanging around?"

  "Of course I don't mind. I enjoy Mike's company. And he is a tremendous help to me."

  "Good. Then it's settled." He nodded brusquely and headed for the door, much to Tess's relief, but before he reached it, he turned back. "Oh, I almost forgot. I'll need your car keys."

  "My car keys? Whatever for?"

  Ryan exhaled an impatient sigh. "So I can drive your car home after I put the tire back on."

  "Oh, no. Really, Mr. McCall. I can't let you do that. I've been enough trouble already. I'll—"

  "It's no big deal," he said sharply, and Tess could tell she had annoyed him again. "Both tires should be repaired by now. I called my brother from the store. He's going to drive me to pick them up. I'll have your car back in less than an hour."

  With that settled, he stalked out. Tess locked the door behind him, then turned and leaned back against it, shaking her head, her expression bemused. What a strange man.

  ❧

  After that day, Mike became a frequent visitor. Though too young to be on the payroll, he often accompanied Ryan to construction sites and did odd jobs for his father and uncle. When Mike wasn't with Ryan or hanging out with his buddies, he could usually be found at Tess's apartment. On those evenings when his father worked late, she always made a point to invite the boy over for dinner.

  Mike was boisterous and friendly as a puppy. And like a puppy, he was at that gangly stage where he seemed to be constantly tripping over his own feet. Filled with eagerness and boundless energy, Mike never walked; he loped. Nor did he merely sit down; he collapsed. As though he were held together by a single vital pin that someone had suddenly pulled, he would drop onto a chair or sofa like a sack of loose bones, sprawling out, long arms and l^s draping over the furniture with all the rigidity of freshly cooked spaghetti.

  Observing him, Tess often had to bite back a smile. She found his awkwardness endearing and viewed his guileless abandon with amused indulgence.

  "If that kid ever grows into those feet of his and gets some meat on those bones he's going to be one big son-of-a-gun someday," Amanda commented on more than one occasion. "A big, good-looking son-of-a-gun. Just like his dad."

  Though it galled her, Tess had to agree. In spite of his perpetual fierce look, Ryan was a strikingly handsome man, and Mike was the very image of him. Unlike Ryan, though, Mike had a happy disposition and a lively sense of humor.

  The boy had a penchant for telling jokes—bad jokes—the cornier and sillier the better. In Tess, who possessed a slightly skewed sense of humor herself, he found the perfect audience. He constantly barraged her and Amanda with awful puns and riddles and knock-knock jokes, and when a punch line drew groans, he clutched his sides and doubled over in a fit of laughter.

  Of Ryan. Tess saw very little, which did not surprise her. Despite his apology, she did not delude herself that they had parted friends. At best, they had achieved a cautious truce.

  Daily, she heard his comings and goings, and once she left the parking lot at the same time he entered it, but the only acknowledgment he gave her was a curt nod as they drove past one another. They didn't exchange a word or come face-to-face until one evening about a week and a half later.

  Tess and Amanda were almost halfway down the stairs when Ryan, his twin brother and Mike came pounding up them. All three McCall men carried white, grease-spotted sacks that reeked of onions, charbroiled burgers and fries.

  "Hey, Tess! Amanda!" Mike called.

  Ryan's head jerked up, annoyance flashing in his eyes.

  Reilly grinned. "Well, well. Good evening, pretty ladies." His twinkling gaze slid warmly over Tess and zeroed in on Amanda. "This is a pleasant surprise."

  Ryan didn't look pleased. His mouth flattened and he nodded. Tess had the distinct feeling that he would have kept going if the had been room on the stairs to get around them.

  Her nerves fluttered. After ten days with no contact, to suddenly come faoe-to-face with the man was unsettling. She responded with a restrained, "Good evening." Her polite smile encompassed both men briefly, then turned warm when her gaze focused on the boy.

  "Hi, Mike. How did your game go?" All afternoon he had bounced around her apartment, keyed up and nervous as a caged cat, fretting over the baseball game scheduled for that evening. The outcome of the contest was vital to Mike and his teammates, since the winner would advance to the play-offs.

  "We clobbered 'em, six to three," he bragged, grinning from ear to ear.

  "Congratulations. That's terrific."

  "Hey! Way to go, sweetie," Amanda drawled, ruffling his dark hair.

  "Yeah, it was a great game. We were just about to celebrate with double cheeseburgers and shakes." Reilly hefted the four sacks he carried and looked expectantly at Amanda. "We'd be delighted to have you lovely ladies join us."

  "Reilly." Ryan practically growled his twin's name, the low tone reverberating with warning.

  Reilly ignored him. He leaned closer to Amanda and gave her a heavy-lidded look. "Whaddaya say?"

  One of Amanda's eyebrows arched. "No, thank you."

  The frosty look and clipped tone had annihilated more than one man in the past; Reilly merely grinned wider. "C'mon, Mandy. You know you want to."

  "Mr. McCall. My name is Amanda, not Mandy. And furthermore, I wouldn't have dinner with you if you—"

  "What Amanda is trying to say is we're busy tonight," Tess put in hurriedly. "We're on our way to class, and if we don't hurry we'll be late as it is."

  "Class?"

  "Yeah, you know, Uncle Reilly," Mike piped up. "La-maze class. Amanda is Tess's coach."

  The statement drew a sharp look from Ryan. He opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it and said instead, "We won't keep you, then." He gave Mike a prod in the back. "Let's go, son."

  "'Night, Tess. 'Night, Amanda," Mike said as he and his father squeezed past them and continued up the stairs.

  "Ryan's right," Reilly said. "We don't want to make you late. We'll just give you a rain check on dinner. You ladies have a nice class." He winked and started after his brother and n
ephew, taking the stairs two at a time.

  "Hey, wait a minute! We didn't ask for a rain check!" Amanda yelled after him, but Reilly merely laughed and kept going.

  Making a strangled sound, she whirled and stomped off down the stairs. Tess had the feeling that she had forgotten all about her.

  "Amanda! Amanda, wait for me!" she called, hurrying after her as fast as her ungainly body would allow.

  By the time she reached her friend's car, Amanda was already behind the wheel, revving the engine. The instant Tess climbed inside and fastened her seat belt, Amanda rammed the floor shift into gear and sent the little red fireball of a car careening out of the parking lot.

  "The gall of the man! Of all the overbearing, egotistical, Neanderthal jerks!" she spat, taking a comer with a squeal of tires.

  "Amanda, for goodness sake. What are you getting so worked up about? Reilly merely asked you to dinner. It's not as though he made an obscene suggestion."

  Amanda shot her a blistering look. "His words may have been harmless, but believe me, his thoughts were obscene. Take my word for it, that man wants a lot more than a meal and conversation. I've met his kind before. The cretin."

  Tess wanted to laugh, but she didn't dare. She had never seen her friend in such a snit over a man before. Cool, unflappable and thoroughly sophisticated Amanda had been fending off passes and winding men around her little finger since she was a preschooler. She couldn't remember a time when her friend hadn't had a whole pack of males panting after her. Amanda never so much as turned a hair over any of them. She tolerated their fawning and salivating with a blase, almost cynical amusement. Yet a few simple words and a teasing look from Reilly McCall had shattered her insouciance and sent her temper soaring.

  Studying her friend's set profile, Tess pursed her lips. What an interesting reaction.

  Personally, she thought Reilly was charming. A bit of a flirt perhaps, and no doubt a rascal...but charming. It was just too bad that some of that charm and cheerfulness had not rubbed off on his dour twin.