direction, including that of the bearded stranger. Only he wasn’t a stranger. He was the man who still held the key to her heart.
Light-headed, Lexie gripped the counter, grateful that it stood between her and Jackson so that he couldn’t see all of her, couldn’t see that she carried his child.
A child she hadn’t told him about. The child they’d created the night Jackson signed the divorce papers.
Their eyes met and held, making it hard for her to breathe. Having been a firefighter’s wife for so long, she couldn’t resist taking inventory, making sure he was all right. His tall frame was still sturdy. Blue jeans covered his powerful thighs, and his broad shoulders filled a forest-green T-shirt. His sable hair fell uncharacteristically below his ears and brushed his T-shirt collar in the back. A thick, dark beard covered his square jaw, making him look less like the young man she’d married and more like a weary man of the world.
Jackson was safe. She couldn’t think beyond that fact. Firefighters who came home early from assignments weren’t always unscathed. Broken bones. Singed body parts. Eyes so red from bitter smoke that they couldn’t see. But Jackson stood solidly in front of her. Unharmed.
The desire to touch him overwhelmed her. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, feel the strength of his chest beneath her palms, reassure herself that he was, indeed, home in one piece.
“Are you all right?” Mary darted into the kitchen, gave Lexie the once-over, and then started cleaning up, effectively distracting Lexie from the spell Jackson had put her under.
He may look oh-so-right, but he wasn’t able to love them as a father and husband should. Yet, she couldn’t resist looking at him again.
Jackson’s smile was tentative, his green eyes guarded. It was the first time in a long time that she’d seen him unsure of himself. Oh, he had his weak moments, but Lexie also knew that Jackson hid behind his charm. Few knew he didn’t have the hidden reserves of confidence he’d prefer everyone believed. He certainly had never been anything but upbeat and positive with Lexie through their entire divorce.
“How’re you doing, Lex?” His voice coasted over her like warm honey from across the room.
Lexie licked suddenly dry lips. She should have told him months ago about this baby. He’d know how she was “doing” the minute she stepped out from behind the counter.
The baby thumped against her ribs, trying to capture her father’s attention from deep within the womb.
Heidi hugged Jackson, her joy in seeing her father apparent in her radiant smile. “He’s home, Mom, for good. Just like before. Isn’t it great?”
Jackson’s smile broadened. The Hot Shots at the table were nudging each other and grinning as if this was the best show in town. She supposed it ranked right up there with the time old Marguerite slurped one too many strawberry daiquiris, shimmied into the lap of a highly embarrassed and uninterested Sirus Socrath, the former superintendent of Silver Bend’s Hot Shot crew, and sang “Like a Virgin.”
“Your father is back from Russia, but I’m sure he’s off to fight fires somewhere,” Lexie said, hastening to correct the impression that Jackson was home to stay. It was the height of the fire season and there were several forest fires rampant across the western states. She pasted a smile on her face and looked at Jackson hopefully.
Jackson tugged Heidi’s ponytail, grin firmly in place. “Nope. I’ve taken two weeks off.”
“In the middle of the fire season?” Lexie’s voice cracked on the last word. Any hope she had of keeping her pregnancy a secret from Jackson faded fast. Would he be angry with her? Would he even care?
“Yep. I decided I needed a break, needed to reconnect with my family.” His eyes, dark rimmed as if from lack of sleep, seemed to glow warmly at her, but Lexie was anything but reassured.
“Wow. That’s…” Lexie’s head bobbed as she floundered for something to say, some way to break the news to Jackson gently. She used to be known for her witty comebacks. Now, all she could manage was “That’s… Wow.”
“Aren’t you gonna hug Mom?” Heidi asked, looking innocently up at her father.
One of the Hot Shots chuckled.
“Oh dear,” Mary said, and disappeared into the back room.
Lexie’s eyes narrowed even as her chest heaved. She was being set up by her own daughter, in front of an audience, no less. Emotions warred within her—indignation at being caught off guard and outmaneuvered by an eleven-year-old, anxiety that Jackson might find out how close she was to needing his help, a feeling of relief that Jackson was home safe, the sour guilt of her secret.
The baby slugged her bladder.
Jackson walked closer, his footsteps a slow herald of the moment of truth. Everyone was looking at her now, probably hoping she’d fall back into his arms as if he’d never broken her heart and shattered her dreams of family. Each step Jackson took made Lexie want to shrink back into the kitchen, but she still had enough pride to stand and face him.
CHAPTER TWO
JACKSON FELT about as nervous as the first time he’d asked Lexie out. She looked great. At least the part of her he could see looked great behind the counter. Thick lashes framed wide blue eyes unadorned by makeup. He could gaze into those eyes forever. Her hair, begging to be touched, fell in soft brown waves about her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed, and there’d been a few moments there when their eyes first connected that he’d been glad he came because of the way she was looking at him, as if she were happy to see him.
Heidi was pushing his luck a little, but heck, if he could get a hug from Lex on day one, that was something, right?
He gave Lex his best “hey, trust me” smile, planning to take this as slowly as she wanted, and entered the kitchen. The sight of her full, lush body made him stop in his tracks.
“You’re pregnant!”
Her face turned bright red. “Yes,” she said through gritted teeth.
Lexie had slept with someone else. The room tilted.
“When did this happen?” Jackson’s eyes bounced around the room from Heidi—argh, don’t ask Heidi—to his Hot Shot buddies—he’d never live this down—to his wife. “How could this happen?”
Lexie ran her hands over the blue T-shirt—his T-shirt—covering her very pregnant belly.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“I tried to tell you the last time you called, Dad, but I don’t think you heard me.” Heidi leaned over the counter and smiled sweetly as if she hadn’t been in on this secret for months.
Jackson tried to remember the conversation Heidi referred to. It took a few seconds for something to click. He dropped his head and shook it slowly from side to side. “You said she was perfect.”
“No, Dad, I said she was pregnant,” Heidi corrected, then had the nerve to look back at the Hot Shot crew and grin.
The men, of course, heard their exchange and roared with laughter. Oh, this was one for the record books, all right.
Jackson struggled to control his emotions. He wanted to throttle whoever had gotten his wife pregnant, or at the very least, punch a wall.
Lexie had slept with another man.
“The ink wasn’t even dry on our divorce.” Jackson’s gaze returned to the floor. He couldn’t bear to look at her. How could she do this to him?
“Heidi, go get yourself something to eat.” Lexie’s voice brooked no argument and Heidi scooted over to the table with the firemen. She was always more inclined to obey Lexie than to listen to him.
Jackson lifted his suddenly heavy head and stared at Lexie, barely able to contain his sorrow. He’d never get her back