Читать книгу An Accidental Family - Ami Weaver - Страница 8

LAINEY WALKED INTO Frank’s Grocery after closing the shop and pulled out her mental shopping list. Nothing fancy. Just sauce, pasta, shrimp, some good cheese. If she had more energy she’d make the sauce from scratch, but not tonight. So far the hardest thing about being pregnant was being so tired at the end of the day. She grabbed a basket from the stack and headed for the first aisle.

She came to a dead stop when she spotted the tall, dark-haired man frowning at the pasta sauce display.

Oh, no. Ben Lawless.

She didn’t want to chat with Rose’s grumpy grandson. He’d made it pretty clear he wasn’t interested in being friendly. Since he stood smack in front of the sauce she needed, though, she’d have to talk to him.

He glanced up as she approached. For a heartbeat she found herself caught by those amazing light green eyes, by the grief she saw searing through them.

What the heck? She cleared her throat. “How are you?”

He tipped his head in her direction, his expression now neutral. “Fine, thanks.”

His uninterest couldn’t have been clearer, though his tone was perfectly polite.

“I just need to get in here.” She pointed to the shelves in front of him. He stepped back, hindered by a woman and cart behind him, and Lainey slipped in, bumping him in the process. A little shiver of heat ran through her. “Sorry,” she muttered, and grabbed the jar with fingers that threatened to turn to butter.

She managed to wiggle back out, brushing him again, thanks to the oblivious woman behind him who kept him penned between them. She plopped the sauce into her basket and offered what she hoped passed for a smile. “Um, thanks.”

“No problem,” he murmured.

She turned around and hurried out of the aisle, unsettled by both the physical contact and his apparent loss. So Ben had a few secrets. That flash of grief, deep and wrenching, hit her again.

Rose had never mentioned anything. Then again, why would she? She’d respect her grandson’s privacy. It was one of the things Lainey loved about her friend.

It only took a few more minutes to gather the rest of the ingredients. Her path didn’t cross Ben’s again, and she unloaded her few purchases at the checkout with relief.

Outside, she took a big breath of the cool night air, and some of the tension knotted inside her eased. Fall was her favorite time of year. A mom and small daughter examined a display of pumpkins outside Frank’s and her thoughts shifted back to her baby. Next year she’d be carving a pumpkin for her five-month-old. Oh, sure, he or she would be too small to appreciate it, but despite the precariousness of her position the idea gave her a little thrill.

She deposited the bags in the trunk and slipped into the driver’s seat to start the car.

Click. Then nothing.

Oh, no. Maybe if she tried it again….

Click.

She leaned forward, rested her head on the steering wheel, and fought the urge to scream. Not owning any jumper cables, she’d have to go back into Frank’s and find someone who did. While she was at it she’d hope like crazy the problem was simply a dead battery, and not something expensive. She yanked the keys out of the ignition, grabbed her purse and got out of the car. One thing was for sure—she’d push the stupid car home before she’d ask her parents for help.

She nearly collided with Ben coming out of the store.

“Whoa,” he said, checking his cart before he ran her down.

Before she could think, she blurted, “Can you help me?” Her face heated as he stared at her. “Ah, never mind. I’ll find …” She gestured vaguely behind him but he shook his head.

“What do you need?”

“My car won’t start. I think the battery’s dead. The dome light’s been staying on longer than it should and it didn’t go off at all this time. I don’t have any jumper cables.” Realizing she was babbling, she clamped her mouth shut.

He nodded. “Where are you parked?”

She pointed. “There. The silver one.” Which he no doubt already knew, since he’d seen her in it the other night. “The space in front of me is open.”

“Okay. Give me a minute. I’ll pull around.”

He walked off and she stared after him. Shoot. Why hadn’t she found someone else? On the other hand, the whole process wouldn’t take very long. Then she could be on her way back home to fix her dinner and curl up in her bed.

The wind picked up, skittering dry leaves across the parking lot, and she tucked her hands under her arms to keep warm as she went back to her car. She propped the hood open as a big black truck rumbled into the empty spot.

Ben got out, cables already in hand, and went to work on her battery. Even though she knew how to hook them up—her mother would be appalled—she let him do it, because it was easier than having his carefully bland gaze on her.

He glanced up. “Do you know how to do this?”

Something in his tone made her bristle. She lifted her chin just a bit. “Actually, I do. I can even change a tire.”

His mouth twitched in what could have been a prequel to a smile. “Good for you.”

Before she could reply, a voice shrilled nearby. “Lainey? Lainey Keeler, is that you?”

Ben returned to the battery and the fragile moment was shattered. Lainey internally groaned as she turned to see Martha Turner, one of her mother’s best friends, hurrying toward her.

“Hi, Mrs. Turner.”

“Goodness, what are you doing?” The woman peeked around Lainey and frowned. “Do your parents know you have car trouble? I just left your mother at the Club. Have you called her yet? I’ll never understand why you traded in that cute little coupe your husband bought you for—for this.” She fluttered her hands at the car.

Not offended, Lainey bit back a laugh. She had to be the only person who’d ever traded in a new car for a used one. “Of course I didn’t bother either of them, Mrs. Turner. It’s really not a big deal. Just a dead battery.”

Behind her, Ben cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to start the truck now. It’s loud.”

“Okay.” She gave Mrs. Turner an apologetic smile. “It was nice to see you.”

Mrs. Turner’s gaze went to Ben, reaching into the cab of the truck, then back to Lainey. “You too, dear. Take care.”

Lainey could almost see the wheels turning in the other woman’s head and imagined her mother would get a phone call before Mrs. Turner even made it inside Frank’s. She sighed. She’d get her own call in a matter of minutes after that, and spend a half an hour calming her mother all over nothing.

So much for a relaxing evening.

Ben came back around and stood, hands in pockets, staring at her engine. Finally he lifted his gaze. “What did you trade in?”

Not exactly sure how to interpret his tone, she spoke carefully. “A Mercedes. After my divorce.”

She didn’t mention the sleek little car had been a bribe—an attempt to keep her in the marriage. Getting rid of it had been a victory of sorts. One of the very few she’d managed.

She caught a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “That’s funny?”

He rocked back on his heels. “Not the divorce. The car. I wouldn’t think—” He stopped and she frowned.

“Think what?”

He looked at her, amusement gone, and seemed actually to see straight into her. The full effect of his gaze caused a funny little hitch in her breath. “I think you can start the engine now,” he said, and she swallowed a surge of disappointment.

Which was crazy. She didn’t care what he thought of her.

She slid into the car and tried not to notice when he braced one arm on the roof of the car and the other on the top of the door. When he leaned down she got a tantalizing glimpse of the smooth, hard muscles of his chest through the gap in his partially unbuttoned shirt.

Her mouth went dry.

“Go ahead and see if it’ll start.”

His voice slid over her skin and she gave a little shiver. She caught a whiff of his scent—a yummy combination of soap and spice. A little curl of heat slipped through her belly. She reached for the ignition and hoped he didn’t notice her shaking hand. The engine turned over on the first try.

“You should be all set now,” he said, straightening up. “Drive it around a bit to let the battery charge up.”

“I will. Thank you,” she said, and meant it. “I appreciate it.”

He shrugged and stepped back. “No problem. I’d have done it for anyone.”

Her little hormonal buzz evaporated. Of course he would. After all, she’d practically attacked him when he came out of the store.

“Well, see you around,” she said, and he gave her a nod and then disappeared around the front of her car.

She sat for a moment, waiting for him to unhook the cables, and gave herself a reality check. She was two months pregnant. Being attracted to a man right now couldn’t be more foolish—and she’d learned the hard way what a poor judge of men she was. She’d paid dearly for that mistake. Her focus was her shop, her baby, and making her life work without her parents hovering over her, waiting for her to fail.

Clearly these pregnancy hormones threw her off balance.

The hood of the car dropped with a thud and the sudden glare of headlights made her blink. With a little wave, in case he could see, she put her car in gear and backed out of her spot, then drove the long way through town back to her apartment. Ben stayed a respectable distance behind, but the thoughtful gesture gave her an unwelcome frisson of warmth.

Under his gruff exterior, Ben Lawless was a gentleman.

Somehow that made him more dangerous.

Lainey let herself in to her apartment, not allowing herself to glance after Ben’s truck as he drove on by. Her phone rang. She dug it out of her bag and checked the display. Ah, here was the call she’d been dreading.

“Hi, Mother,” she said into the phone, as a purring Panda wound between her feet.

“Hi, dear,” Jacqui Keeler trilled. “I’m almost there. Let me in, love.”

That hadn’t taken long. Mrs. Turner must have really run up the alarm if she was getting a visit, too. Lainey dumped her bags on the counter with a little more force than necessary. “Here? Why?”

“Can’t I simply visit with my daughter?”

Oh, if only. “Of course, Mother. I’ll be down in a sec.”

She dropped the phone back in her purse and glanced around her cozy space. Her apartment was neat, for all the good it did. It would never meet her mother’s standards, no matter what. She’d learned that years ago.

She hurried down the front stairs to unlock the street-level door just as her mother walked up.

“Lainey.” Jacqui kissed her cheek, her usual cloud of sweet perfume tickling Lainey’s nose. “You look tired.”

She bit back a laugh. If her mother only knew. “Thanks,” she said dryly as the trim older woman swept past her up the stairs. Jacqui, as always, was impeccably groomed. She wore a pale pink suit and her smooth blond hair swung smartly at her chin. Lainey ran her hand down her ponytail and tried not to feel inferior in her non-branded jeans and tee shirt.

Damn it. She’d given that life up. But, oh, sometimes she did miss designer clothes.

“Have a meeting tonight, Mother?”

“I did.” Jacqui tucked her monster-sized bag securely under her arm, as if she expected to be robbed right there on the stairs. “For the Auxiliary at the hospital. The gala.”

No surprise there. For all their differences, Lainey still admired her mother’s energy. “When is it?”

“Two weeks. Don’t forget you are expected to be there.”

Right. Just what she wanted. “Who did the floral arrangements?”

“Gail, of course. She does a lovely job.”

Implying that The Lily Pad didn’t. Disappointment clogged her vision for a moment. Lainey opened her mouth, snapped it closed. Frustration rushed through her. She’d never get through to her mother until the woman took her seriously. When would that be? What would it take?

“You really should move back home, honey,” Jacqui said, her gaze drifting around the living room. “We have plenty of space. You could have your old room back. We’d love to have you.”

Lainey stifled a sigh. More like they’d love to micromanage her life into one that met their standards. Been there, tried that, failed spectacularly.

“I know you would. I’m very happy here, though.” Lainey saw her mother’s hand twitch, as it did when she was stressed. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thank you.” Jacqui perched on the edge of the sofa, the monster bag set primly on her lap, and Lainey sank down on a nearby chair. “Now, I received a disturbing phone call from Martha this evening. You had car trouble? Why didn’t you call?”

Lainey smoothed her hand on her jeans. “It was nothing. Really. A dead battery. Not worth bothering you over. Rose’s grandson Ben helped me out.”

Jacqui’s tone turned chilly. “Yes, Martha said you were with a man.”

Lainey nearly choked. “Standing in a parking lot while someone was kind enough to jump my battery is hardly being with a man.” Though she’d certainly had visions of another kind of jumping, but those were best kept to herself.

“If you’d kept the car your husband bought you—”

“Ex-husband,” Lainey said through clenched teeth.

Unperturbed, Jacqui continued on. “If you’d kept the car, and the husband, you wouldn’t need strange men to help you in the parking lot. Men who may have less than honorable intentions toward you.”

Lainey tried to count to ten and gave up at three. “Excuse me? How does being nice equal intentions of any kind?”

Jacqui glared at her. “Do I need to spell it out for you? Your father’s political connections are extremely valuable. Some people will use you for them. You don’t always have the best judgment, Lainey.”

Ouch. Direct hit. “Like Daniel did?” Lainey shot back. “You weren’t concerned then, about my judgment or my connections, since he came from the right family. I can’t see what need Ben Lawless would have for political connections, or how he thinks he’d get them when we only had ten minutes together.”

“Martha said you looked awful cozy.”

“Martha was wrong,” Lainey said flatly. “Trust me, Mother. Please.”

Jacqui made a noise in her throat. “I talked to Daniel earlier.”

Betrayal sliced through her, sharp and quick. “What?”

Jacqui sent Lainey a look full of reproach. “He said you never call him. Why ever not, Lainey? He’s a good man.”

Lainey sucked in a breath. She’d worked so hard to get free of her ex-husband. “I can’t think of any reason I’d ever have to call him.” Not even if hell froze over. Twice.

Her mother looked at her as if she were a bit daft. “He misses you, dear.”

Not a chance. She knew Daniel. Her ex-husband missed the perceived gravy train.

Lainey had never filled her family in on all the reasons behind her divorce. She’d been afraid they would take his side—a fear only reinforced as she looked at her mother now. Her parents adored Daniel. She’d dated him in an effort to be the daughter they wanted. They’d been over the moon when she’d succumbed in a weak moment, perhaps blinded by the three-carat princess-cut ring, and agreed to marry him. She’d thought she could make it work and earn her parents’ respect in one fell swoop.

She’d been wrong.

“Why would he miss me now? We’ve been divorced more than a year,” she said, and wasn’t totally successful at keeping the bitterness out of her voice. Jacqui didn’t seem to notice.

“I gave him your cell phone number and I’ve got his for you,” she said, fishing in her bag. “He said he’d give you a call.”

Anger propelled Lainey to her feet. “What? Mother, how could you? I don’t want to talk to him. Ever. My life is none of his business now.” He’d never cared when they were married. Why would he now?

Surprise crossed her mother’s face. “Lainey, you were married for seven years. Those feelings don’t just go away. He can help you out of this mess you’re in. You’re barely hanging on. Everyone knows it. You need his help.”

Nausea rolled over Lainey. There lay the crux of the matter for Jacqui—the possibility of another public shaming by her wayward daughter and the offer of salvation by a man deemed worthy, no matter the cost.

“I most certainly do not.” Telling her parents the truth of her marriage to Daniel would only prove how good she was at failing. “I don’t need him or anyone else to make this work. I’m doing perfectly fine on my own.” Well, except for the fact her shop was in the red and she had a cooler and a van on the fritz. Oh, and she was about to become a single mom. Still … “I’m happy, Mother.”

Jacqui sighed, shook her head, and gestured around the apartment. “Oh, honey. You can’t possibly be happy living like this, after how you were raised and how well you married. Talk to him when he calls. Maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll give you a second chance.”

Lainey shuddered. God help her. “I’m not interested.” Those years she’d spent with Daniel were ones she’d never get back. She wasn’t going to repeat the mistake of chaining herself to a man. No matter what.

“You should be.” Jacqui glanced at her watch. “I’d better get going. Lovely to see you, dear. Come visit us soon.”

Lainey bit back a sigh. Typical. Her mother would act as if nothing had happened. “I’ll walk you out.”

The next evening Ben looked up at the crunch of tires on the gravel drive. He recognized the silver car, and he already knew Lainey Keeler was coming over to visit his grandmother.

He wondered again at her modest choice of car. Somehow that intrigued him. He’d bet there was more to that story than she’d let on.

It would be flat-out rude not to make sure the car was running okay after he’d helped her yesterday. He’d be polite, then get back to his prep for the wheelchair ramp. He leaned the piece of wood he’d been about to cut against the wall and walked out into the twilight.

As he approached the car the door opened and he watched as Lainey planted one slim denim-clad leg, ending in a high-heeled black boot, on the ground. He tried not to notice how long that leg was. She appeared to be struggling with something so he went over to help.

“Evening,” he said. She jumped, yelped, and nearly lost her grip on what he could now see was a pizza box. Big blue eyes swung his way and a pretty pink stained her cheeks. Her lips parted slightly and his gaze zeroed in on her mouth. Very nice. He shoved the unwelcome thought away. “Can I get that for you?”

She shook her head and her long hair shifted silkily on her shoulders. “I’ve got it. Thanks.”

He stepped back to let her exit the car. “Is it running okay?”

She glanced up at him. “Yes. Thank you again.” Her tone was cool, polite. She bumped the door shut with her hip, but her keys fell to the ground. Ben bent and retrieved them for her, pressing them into her palm. A quick zing of heat flashed through him at the contact. He pulled back quickly. Hell.

“Um, thanks,” she murmured.

“You’re welcome.” He turned toward the garage. He needed to get away from her before he started to feel.

“Ben.” Her voice—hesitant, a little husky—flowed over him. He turned back and she tipped the pizza box slightly toward him. “There’s plenty here if you want to join us.”

“No, thanks.” The words came swift, automatic, but he caught a flash of hurt in her eyes. Damn it. “I’m in the middle of a project,” he amended. “I’ll try and grab some in awhile.” Why did he feel the need to soften the blow? Since when had big blue eyes affected him? Since last night, when she’d narrowed her eyes and told him she could change a tire.

She shrugged. “Good luck. Rose and I love our pizza.”

He slid his hands in his front pockets. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She turned to go and he couldn’t tear his gaze off the sway of her hips as she walked up to the house.

Double hell. He couldn’t risk forging any type of connection. No way would he allow himself the luxury. How could he, when he shouldn’t be the one alive?

Turning, he headed back to his project, tried to ignore the feminine laughter floating through the kitchen’s screen door. Lainey’s throaty laugh carried, teasing at the edge of something he’d shut down after Jason’s death.

His phone rang before he could start the saw. A glance at the display revealed the caller to be his boss. Nerves jolted through him, but he kept his voice steady as he answered.

“Hi, Captain.”

“Ben.” The concern in the older man’s voice carried clearly and Ben shut his eyes against the guilt it stirred up. “How are you, son?”

“I’m getting by,” he replied.

“Just getting by?”

“Pretty much.” Ben paused. He didn’t need to paint a rosy picture for his boss. He’d already been ordered to take leave due to the stress of Jason’s death. It couldn’t really get any worse than that.

“Still having the symptoms, I take it.” Not a question.

“Yeah.” When the dream stopped, would he be free of the pain? Did he want to be? Wouldn’t that be disloyal to the friend he’d loved like a brother?

After all, Ben was alive. Jason wasn’t.

The Captain sighed. “It won’t do any good for me to tell you again that it was an accident and not your fault, right?”

“With all due respect, sir, you’re wrong.” The words caught in Ben’s throat. “It was my call. I made a bad one, and a good man—a family man—died because of me.”

“That’s not what the investigation found,” the Captain reminded him softly.

It didn’t matter. The investigators hadn’t been there—in the inferno, in the moment. “I don’t give a damn.” Ben shut his eyes against the waves of guilt and pain that buffeted his soul, tried not to see Callie’s grief-ravaged face. “I know what happened.”

“Ben—”

“Please, don’t.”

There was a pause, then another sigh. “Then I won’t. This time. Son, when you heal, come back and see us. There will always be room for fine firefighters such as yourself and I’d be honored to have you.”

Heal. Ben swallowed a lump in his throat. He didn’t know if it was possible. “Thank you, sir. I’ll keep it in mind.”

He disconnected the call and the emptiness he’d been battling for the past six months constricted his chest. He could never work as a firefighter again. He no longer trusted his judgment, his ability to read a situation and respond appropriately.

Without those skills he was nothing.

“Ben?”

He looked up sharply, feeling exposed. Lainey stood in the open door with a plate, uncertainty on her beautiful face. He cursed silently. How much had she overheard?

“Rose thought you might be hungry.” She lifted the plate slightly.

He rubbed his hand over his face, afraid the rawness of his emotions showed too clearly. He needed to get them back under control—fast. “Thanks.” He shoved the phone in his pocket and walked over, not wanting to look at her and see pity. Or disgust. He’d seen plenty of both over the past couple of months. She handed him the plate wordlessly, then laid her hand on his forearm before he could move away.

His muscles turned to stone even as the heat from her simple touch sought the frozen place inside him. His gaze landed on hers, despite his best intent. He saw no pity, only questions, and he couldn’t take the chance of her asking them. Not now, with everything so close to the surface.

He cleared his throat and she stepped back quickly, taking her warmth with her when she removed her hand. It was a much sharper loss than he’d like. “Thanks for the pizza.”

“Sure.” She hesitated and he held his breath, afraid she’d ask. Perversely, he was almost afraid she wouldn’t. She gave him a small smile. “Eat it before it gets cold.”

Then she turned and walked into the night before he could tell her how very familiar he was with cold.

And what a lonely place it was.