Page 119 of Nobodys Baby But Mine (Chicago Stars 3)

Cal caught her arm. “Don’t do this, Jane. We need to talk.”

“The time’s past for talking. I’m going back to Chicago tomorrow.”

“You can’t do that! I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I have things to tell you.”

“Go tell them to somebody who cares.” She jerked free and rushed from the room.

Jane was going to bolt, and Cal couldn’t let it happen. Not in a million years. He loved her!

He’d learned from his father that the women got up early, so he arrived at Heartache Mountain right at dawn. He hadn’t slept at all since he’d climbed back out into the rain from Jane’s bedroom window last night. Now that it was too late, he saw the mistake in his strategy.

He should have told her he loved her the minute he came into her room, while he still had his hand over her mouth. Instead, he’d gone on about kidnaping and reporters, jabbering away instead of getting to the heart of the matter, the only part of what he had to say that meant anything. Maybe he’d been ashamed that it had taken him so long to figure out what should have been obvious to him for a long time.

The reality of his feelings had hit him like a lightning bolt. Yesterday afternoon he’d been struck by the truth as he’d driven hell-for-leather off the mountain right after he’d made a fool of himself by yelling out that he’d stay married. The expression on her face—the look of absolute contempt—had devastated him. Her good opinion meant more to him than any sportswriter’s. She was everything to him.

Now he understood that loving her wasn’t a new feeling, only his acceptance was new. Looking back, he figured he’d probably fallen in love with her when he’d tackled her in Annie’s backyard that day he’d found out how old she was.

More than anything in his life, he knew he couldn’t let this marriage break up. As much as the idea of ending his career scared him, it didn’t scare him half as much as losing her. That meant he had to get her to listen to him, but first, he had to make certain she stayed put.

The front door of Annie’s house was locked with the new dead bolt he’d installed not two weeks earlier. He figured there wasn’t a chance in hell they’d open it for him, so he kicked it in and made his way to the kitchen.

Jane stood at the sink in her Goofy nightshirt with her hair all rumpled and her mouth open in an oval of surprise. As she took in his appearance, her eyes widened with alarm.

He’d caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he’d come through the living room, and he wasn’t surprised by her reaction. With his outlaw’s stubble, red eyes, and trigger-happy temper, he looked like the meanest hombre this side of the Pecos. Which was just fine with him. Let all of them know right from the beginning that he meant business.

Annie sat at the table with an old flannel shirt pulled on over pink satin pj’s. She hadn’t put on her makeup yet, and she looked every one of her eighty years. As he stalked across her kitchen floor, she started to sputter and struggle to her feet. He walked right past her and snatched the shotgun from its resting place in the corner.

“Consider yourselves disarmed, ladies. And nobody leaves here without my permission.”

Taking the shotgun with him, he stalked back out through the front of the house to the porch, where he leaned the antique weapon against the house and slouched down into the old wooden rocker that sat near the front door. He propped his heels on the red-and-white Igloo cooler he’d brought with him. It held a six-pack of beer, a package of bologna, some frozen Milky Ways, and a loaf of Wonder bread, so they could just forget about starving him out. Then he leaned back and closed his eyes. Nobody threatened his family. Not even his own family.

Ethan showed up around eleven o’clock. Cal hadn’t heard much noise from inside: some muted conversation, water running, Annie coughing. At least she wasn’t smoking these days. No way would his mother and Jane let her get away with that.

Ethan stopped on the bottom step. Cal noted with disgust that he’d ironed his T-shirt again.

“What’s going on here, Cal? And why’s your Jeep blocking the road?” He walked up onto the porch. “I thought they wouldn’t let you in the house.”

“They won’t. Hand over your car keys if you plan to go inside.”

“My car keys?” He eyed the shotgun propped against the house.

“Jane thinks she’s leaving today, but since she can’t get that rattletrap she drives out of here with my car in the way, she’ll try to convince you to drive her. I’m just making sure you don’t get tempted.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you. I hope you know that you look like a Wanted poster.”

“You might not mean to give her your keys, but the Professor’s nearly as smart as God. She’ll figure out something.”

“Don’t you think you’re getting just a little paranoid?”

“I know her. You don’t. Hand ’em over.”

With a great deal of reluctance, Ethan withdrew his car keys and passed them to Cal. “Have you thought about just sending her a couple dozen roses? It works for most men.”

Cal gave a snort of disgust, got up from the rocker, and walked over to open the broken door. He stuck his head inside just long enough to call out, “Hey, Professor. The Reverend’s come to visit. The same one who saw you naked as a jaybird.”

Pulling back, he held the door open for Ethan to enter, then resumed his seat in the rocker. As he extracted a frozen Milky Way from the cooler, he decided his lack of principles were a match for her brains any day.

Kevin showed up an hour later. Cal knew he should thank him for the press conferences, but old habits died hard. He scowled at him instead.

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