reflected guilt and regret. “I guess not.”
She looked away, the memory of that night as vivid in her mind now as it had been the very next morning, when she’d awakened to find Luke had gone, leaving her with nothing but a note on the pillow and a little life growing inside her.
What if she’d put a call in to his unit overseas when she’d gotten the results of the pregnancy test? He couldn’t have left Kaziristan to race to her side and play daddy to a baby he never intended to make. And she’d have never wanted him to feel obligated to be with her just because they made a baby together.
But what about now? Didn’t Luke deserve to know that the little boy she was trying so desperately to protect from her husband’s past was his own flesh and blood?
“I don’t know what to do,” she said aloud.
“Where is your car parked?” Luke asked, the question catching her off balance.
“About a block down the street. We walked from there.”
He frowned. “You don’t drive a dark blue Pontiac G-3?”
She shook her head. “Silver Honda Prelude.”
Luke crossed to the front window. Parting the curtains about an inch, he peered outside, where the sun was making a last dying stand against twilight.
“Is someone out there?” Abby asked.
“Not anymore,” he answered tersely. “But we have to assume they’re around here somewhere, just to be safe.”
The urge to cry returned, but she fended it off. She didn’t have time for tears. “What should I do, Luke?”
“Right now, we don’t have a clue what Matt might have taken, or where he’d have hidden it. If he took anything at all.” He let the curtain drop and turned to her. “Right?”
She nodded. “I’m sure he had a dozen places he could stash something he wanted to hide, but he never shared that kind of information with me.”
He came to stand in front of her, capturing her chin with his fingers and giving a little tug to make her look up at him. “I have some thoughts on that, but right now, let’s get you and Little Bit home safely. You two can get a good night’s sleep while I look into some hiding places Matt might have used.”
The thought of returning to her mess of an apartment was almost more than she could bear, but she hid her despair from Luke. She wasn’t about to start leaning on anyone again, no matter how broad and tempting the shoulders.
“I need your address. You’re not staying at your apartment alone tonight,” Luke said.
“Wait—” Panic rose in her gut in greasy waves. No way was she sharing her tiny apartment with Luke Cooper while he played knight in shining armor. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“You need a bodyguard.” His tone was so reasonable she wanted to punch him. “If not for you, then for Stevie.”
“I can protect him myself.” God, she sounded foolish. Sure, she knew how to use a gun, but she didn’t have one in the house because of Stevie. And while she was physically fit and knew a few self-defense moves that might get her out of trouble if some jerk tried to mug her on the street, she couldn’t outfight two military-trained enforcers armed with Colt .45s.
“It won’t hurt to have backup, right?” Luke crossed to a desk near the entryway and pulled a pen and notepad from one of the drawers. He wrote something, tore out the page and handed it to her. “My cell-phone number. I’ll be a couple of minutes behind you, but call if you need anything.”
“I will.” She gave him her address as she rose, shifting Stevie to her hip. Luke jotted it down on another piece of paper.
“Drive by here on your way out and I’ll see if I can spot anybody tailing you,” Luke suggested as he walked her to the door. “I’ll be right behind you, I promise.”
She slanted a look at him, wondering if he realized just how hollow his promises sounded after what happened between them three years ago. Although he hadn’t really made her any promises that night, had he? There hadn’t been many words at all, just kisses and touches and a raging fire she’d thrown herself into without a second thought.
For him, it might have been nothing more than a few hours of shared grief and release.
But that night with Luke Cooper had changed her world.
“NOTHING UNDER THE NAME Matt Randall, either?” Luke asked the bus-station attendant on the phone, using one of the aliases Matt had used undercover with Marine Corps Intelligence.
“No, sir.”
“Thanks anyway.” Luke rang off and scanned the traffic around him, looking for any sign of a tail. He’d seen no one tailing Abby, but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t watching.
He spotted Abby’s silver Honda a few car lengths ahead and his stomach turned a flip. Even tired, scared and frustrated, Abby Chandler was as beautiful as he’d remembered.
And even more off-limits now than when he first realized he was in love with Matt Chandler’s wife.
Evening traffic was busy. Though he’d called San Diego home for the past seven years, he’d spent much of that time overseas and on assignments out of town. Only life as a civilian had allowed him to really get to know the place. It wasn’t a bad place to live. The zoo was world-famous, Sea World a fun way to spend a lazy Saturday and the place was crawling with military personnel. But now that he was out of the Corps, he found himself thinking of his real home more and more.
He missed the green mountains of Chickasaw County, Alabama, the sparkling waters of Gossamer Lake and his mother’s cooking. Now that his brother Sam was back in Alabama after years away, Luke was the last Cooper in exile.
Even with Eladio Cordero’s threats hanging over him, the call of home was strong these days.
He wondered what Abby would think of Gossamer Ridge, Alabama, with its ten stoplights and one decent grocery store. He squelched that thought ruthlessly, aware how dangerous it was to think of Abby as anything but his old friend’s widow.
He’d made a mistake three years ago, taking advantage of her grief and vulnerability to assuage his own. It didn’t matter that he loved her; Abby had been Matt’s wife. And now, the mother of the only child Matt Chandler would ever have.
And it just might be Luke’s fault that Matt wasn’t there to see his son grow up.
Stevie looked like Abby, from his freckles to his wide, expressive mouth. Not a hint of Matt’s laughing brown eyes or olive complexion. Was it easier for Abby that way, not to have to see Matt in Stevie’s eyes every time she looked at him?
How old was the kid now—two? Two and a half? No more than that; if Abby had been more than three or four months pregnant the night they spent together, he’d have noticed.
His smile faded suddenly.
What if she hadn’t been pregnant that night? He tried to remember how she’d answered his questions about Stevie. Had she ever said, outright,
