She knew next to nothing about Red.
Perhaps he was separated or divorced… The thought created a funny swirl in her stomach, but she would have to process her feelings later. She needed to find Ginger.
A ripple of the bed skirt caught her eye. And then the unmistakable flash of a ginger-colored tail. Ronnie quickly turned around to close the double doors before crouching by the edge of the bed, calling Ginger’s name softly. A responding meow followed, along with the appearance of Ginger’s little face. Ronnie lunged forward to scoop her up, but lost her balance in the process, and she found herself sprawled on the bedside floor mat, kitten in both hands.
And then her gaze flew to the doors as they clicked open, Red framed in the center, a crooked smile on his face.
* * *
The last thing Red had expected to find was Ronnie lying flat on the floor next to his bed, holding Ginger.
After she had run in and out of the kitchen, he had turned off the boiling kettle and then gone upstairs to join in the search. The closed double doors had puzzled him and he had reopened them, doubting his memory. And there they both were, on the floor.
He strode over to Ronnie and offered her a hand to assist her in getting up, but instead, she handed him the kitten. She shifted awkwardly to right herself, her cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry. This little rascal was under your bed.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said with a chuckle. He lifted Ginger in front of his face. “It’s this little rascal who should apologize.” The kitten meowed and licked his chin. “Now don’t try to sweet talk me, Miss Ginger.” Red caught Ronnie’s eye. “I think she’s trying to tell me she’d rather sleep with me in my nice big bed instead of her teensy one. Not a chance.”
Ronnie’s eyebrows lifted. “Well, you might want to put her bed in a corner of your room. You could keep a better eye on her.”
“What?” He feigned a frown. “This was not in the original contract.”
“She’ll be lonely downstairs. And she’d wander,” Ronnie said authoritatively, walking toward the door.
“I see.” Red followed. “Why don’t you just stay the night?” he said impulsively. “You can have your room back and she can sleep with you?”
Ronnie stared at him, blinking. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m not. This way, we both get to sleep.”
“Why do you think I wouldn’t be able to sleep at my place?” Ronnie frowned.
“You’d be too worried about Ginger.”
Ronnie shook her head and continued out the door and down the stairway. “I’m not at all worried,” she said, turning on the last step to smile brightly at him. “I can see that Ginger is in very good hands.”
He was losing all control, Red thought repeatedly as he followed Ronnie back downstairs. What inner sorcerer had made him ask Ronnie to stay? His invitation had slipped out of his mouth before his common sense could intervene…
He set Ginger down in her carrier as Ronnie watched. He straightened and looked at her curiously. “What time do you expect your son to be back tomorrow?”
Ronnie’s face brightened as she clasped her locket. “Around noon. I can’t wait.” At the entrance, Ronnie slipped on her coat before Red could help her. She put on her boots and then turned to him. “Thanks again for doing this,” she said, offering him a tentative smile. “Um, I… I hope you don’t mind me asking…but I couldn’t help noticing the photo of you and a little boy upstairs. Is he a relative?”
Red could feel the smile that had started to form freeze on his face. “He could have been,” he replied brusquely.
“Oh.” She shook her head, her forehead creasing. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have asked—”
“His name is Marco. He’s my ex-girlfriend’s son.” Red looked away. Just saying the words had precipitated an unexpected wave of emotion that hit him like a punch in the stomach. Only, instead of a fist, it was a jagged hunk of meteor, piercing him with all the feelings that he had experienced in the past year: sadness, bitterness, loss, helplessness. He glanced back at Ronnie, and another wave hit him when he saw the empathy in her eyes.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
RONNIE WISHED SHE hadn’t brought up the photo. It had evoked painful memories for Red and she felt terrible, but she couldn’t take the words back. She looked at him helplessly. It was strange to suddenly see a different side to him. And to catch the flicker of hurt in the depths of his eyes, as if invisible arrows had struck their exact target.
She pulled the collar of her coat. “Sorry it didn’t work out for you.”
He gave her a piercing stare, as if he were trying to decide whether he should say more.
“I’m not,” he said finally.
Her eyebrows arched uncontrollably.
“I don’t regret that it didn’t work out with her. The hard part was that it meant I wouldn’t be able to see her son anymore.”
And Marco had meant the world to Red. It was in his eyes…
He turned to the fire. Kneeling on one knee, he placed another log on the grate.
Her heart suddenly swelled as she gazed at his broad back and stooped head. He was a guy with a sense of humor, but now she knew that there was also another part of him that he probably hid from most people. A part that hurt like hell.
She understood what hurting felt like. Especially these past two years. The cause of her pain was different to his, but pain was pain.
Right or wrong, she went over and reached for Red’s
