Читать книгу His Secret Child - BEVERLY BARTON, Beverly Barton - Страница 10

Three

“You really didn’t have to agree to Danny’s request to invite Tanner and Devin over here to meet you tonight,” Sheila said, placing the iced tea glasses in the top compartment of the dishwasher.

“I know I didn’t.” Caleb handed her the stack of dirty dishes he had removed from the kitchen table. “But why shouldn’t I? I’ve got plenty of time on my hands and I think it means a lot to Danny.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” She arranged the plates neatly in a row in the bottom compartment. “My son is one of your biggest fans, and that’s saying quite a lot, considering you’re the idol of every male in Crooked Oak—boy, teenager and man.”

“Did I thank you for the delicious dinner?” he asked.

Caleb moved in behind Sheila as she leaned over the sink and filled the Crock-Pot with warm, soapy water. She felt him, although he didn’t actually touch her. The heat of his body. The power of his masculinity. The strength of his presence. When she turned to face him, he was close. Too close. She stepped back in an effort to escape his nearness. Her hips pressed into the counter edge.

“Yes, you thanked me,” she said. “Twice.”

“Just shows how much I enjoyed having dinner with you. . . and your son.”

“I imagine it’s a new experience for you, having dinner with a woman and her child.” Sheila took a deep breath and sidestepped Caleb, moving to his left.

He grabbed her arm, his hold tight but gentle. “You didn’t want me here tonight, Sheila. Why?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re Tallie’s brother and Danny’s idol. Why wouldn’t you be welcome in my home?”

“That’s what I’m asking you.” Reaching out with his fingertips, he smoothed back an errant strand of hair that had fallen over her right eye.

Their gazes met and locked for a brief moment and Sheila prayed that what she felt didn’t show plainly in her eyes. Caleb was right. She hadn’t wanted him in her home tonight, or any other night for that matter.

She pulled out of his grasp, hurried out of the kitchen and into the hallway. If she didn’t give him an answer to his question, he was going to wonder what she was trying so hard to hide. And what reasonable explanation, other than the complete truth, could she give him for not wanting him in her life?

The sound of Danny’s voice jerked her quickly from her thoughts.

“Yeah, Tanner, he’s here right now and he’s going to stay until my bedtime,” Danny said. “He’s going to autograph my baseball and if I ask him to, he might sign yours and Devin’s, too.”

Sheila paused outside her son’s bedroom door. It had been a long time since she’d seen Danny so happy and excited. How could she run Caleb away without breaking Danny’s heart? But if she allowed Caleb to become Danny’s buddy, what then? The potential for disaster was too great. Sooner or later, Caleb might figure out the truth. All he had to do was ask Danny when his birthday was.

Covering her mouth with her hands, Sheila bit back a cry of despair. What was she going to do?

Caleb followed her out into the hallway, halted at her side and glanced into the bedroom where Danny lay sprawled out on the bed, the telephone glued to his ear.

“He thinks my mom is a great cook,” Danny said. “He ate second helpings of everything. And guess what? Bread pudding with sunshine sauce is his favorite dessert just like it is mine!”

“You’ve got a great kid there,” Caleb whispered as he lowered his head enough so that his lips almost touched her ear.

She closed her eyes, praying that when she spoke her voice wouldn’t quiver. Her heart beat rapidly. Her stomach fluttered wildly. It just wasn’t fair that Caleb could make her feel this way when no other man ever had.

“Yes, I know. Danny is a wonderful boy.” She tried not to notice that Caleb had slipped his arm around her waist or that her traitorous body tingled with excitement. Oh, dear God, all he had to do was touch her and she went weak in the knees.

And weak in the head, too! she reprimanded herself. Get a grip, girl. Don’t let him do this to you. Hell, don’t do it to yourself. You know better.

“Caleb, I appreciate your being so nice to Danny and accepting his invitation to dinner and—” She glanced over her shoulder and the moment he smiled at her, the bottom dropped out of her stomach. “And signing autographs for him and his friends, but. . .well, I just don’t want Danny to think. . .to assume—”

Caleb pulled her to the opposite end of the hall, near the living room, then gently eased her up against the wall. His big body hovered over hers. She swallowed hard.

“You don’t want Danny to think—to assume—what?” Caleb asked.

“He lost his father five years ago and even though Mike and he are pals, what Danny wants more than anything is a dad of his own.” She hesitated momentarily, allowing Caleb to absorb her words and hopefully come to the right conclusion.

“You think Danny might see me as a father figure? Is that what’s got you so worried? You don’t want Danny getting too close to me and maybe trying to emulate me? You really don’t approve of me, do you, Sheila?”

Oh, great! Hunky-dory great! Typical man, he’d misunderstood.

“I don’t approve or disapprove of you. That’s not what I was trying to say.”

“Then maybe you’d better spell it out for me.”

“All right.” She squared her shoulders and glared directly into his dark brown eyes. “I don’t want you hanging around so much that Danny becomes too attached to you, that he starts thinking of you as a substitute dad. Somebody who’ll be in his life for the long haul. If he becomes too fond of you, it’ll break his heart when you leave Crooked Oak.”

Caleb took a step backward, putting a couple of feet between them and allowing Sheila to move into the living room. He stood there in the hallway and thought about what she’d just told him. If for one minute he’d ever really thought about Danny’s situation, he would have realized the danger in spending too much time with the kid. He’d been a fatherless boy himself once. And although his cold, stern grandfather had tried to be a supportive parent, Gramps hadn’t been his real father. Hell, he couldn’t even remember what his own father looked like. Jake and Hank had been old enough to retain memories of their parents, but he’d been a toddler and Tallie an infant when they’d lost their folks.

Danny barreled out of his bedroom and down the hall, screeching to a halt right in front of Caleb. “The guys will be over in a few minutes. Tanner’s dad is going to bring them. Mr. Finch is dying to meet you.”

Caleb ruffled Danny’s wavy black hair and grinned. The last thing on earth he wanted to do was hurt this boy, to disappoint him in any way. Strange thing was, that for some reason he could see himself in Sheila’s son. Danny was tall and lanky—all arms and legs—the way he’d been as a kid. And the boy loved baseball with a passion that bordered on obsession, just as he did. And Danny was a fatherless boy in need of a role model. He’d been there himself and had experienced every aspect of being the only kid on the team without a dad. His grandfather had been an old man with a bad heart, and although he’d come to all the games, he’d never coached or managed one of Caleb’s Little League teams the way so many fathers did. Caleb could remember being Danny’s age and promising himself that when he had a son, he’d coach the boy’s team.

“Danny, you know that I’m going to be in Crooked Oak for just a few months, don’t you? I’m not moving back here permanently. Once I sort out what to do with my life now that my major league career is over, I’ll be leaving.”

Danny stared at Caleb with wide, expressive blue eyes identical to his mother’s. “Yeah, sure. I know.”

Caleb glanced over Danny’s shoulder, into the living room, directing his gaze at Sheila. She smiled weakly and nodded her head.

“I want us to be friends and. . . well, after I leave town, I’ll keep in touch. But. . .I, er. . .”

Danny narrowed his eyes, his stare questioning Caleb. “Me and Caleb Bishop friends. Hey, I like the sound of that.”

Caleb gripped Danny’s shoulder. “I like the sound of that, too.”

He thought their little talk had gone well, that he’d set the record straight and eased Sheila’s mind. Danny was a bright kid. He understood that Caleb wouldn’t be a permanent fixture in his life. Maybe now, Sheila would stop worrying.

He could be Danny’s friend without giving the boy any false hopes about him becoming his substitute father, couldn’t he? And he and Sheila could renew their old friendship and temporarily ease each other’s loneliness, without any permanent ties.

Caleb waited on the front porch while Sheila checked to make sure Danny was asleep. She had put her son to bed three times since his two young buddies had left, and each time he’d thought of just one more thing to tell Caleb.

“This is the last thing, I promise, Mom,” the boy had said ten minutes ago. “Caleb, would you come and watch us practice tomorrow? We’ll be over behind the grammar school, in Old Man Pickens’s field. That’s where the Bulldogs always practice.”

“Danny!” Sheila had scolded.

“I might drop by for a few minutes,” Caleb had replied. “But don’t mention it to any of the other guys just in case I don’t make it.”

Sheila swung open the front door and joined Caleb on the porch.

“He’s down for the count,” she said. “He’s asleep and this time he isn’t faking it.”

Caleb sat in the porch swing. He knew he should get in his car and drive home instead of lingering, trying to prolong the evening. He dreaded going back to the old homestead alone. He was a man accustomed to company, to being around teammates and fans and—until this past year when he’d been recuperating from the accident—he’d seldom been without a female companion.

“I hope you don’t mind that I told Danny I might stop by his practice tomorrow.”

She hesitated a couple of seconds before she replied, “No, I don’t mind. He would have been terribly disappointed if you’d said no. I think he’d already told Devin and Tanner that he was going to ask you to come by.”

“I promise to play it cool with him,” Caleb said. “He’s a pretty smart boy. He understands that my stay in Crooked Oak is only temporary.”

Feeling a sudden chill at his words, Sheila rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “It’s cool, isn’t it, for springtime?”

“Come sit by me and I’ll warm you up,” he said, his tone teasing.

He’d like to warm her up, melt that frosty exterior and see just how hot Sheila could get He remembered a passionate young girl who had come alive in his arms. Was that fire and passion still alive in her, just waiting to be unleashed? She had told him there was no one special in her life, so that had to mean she was celibate because unless Sheila had changed a great deal, she’d never indulge in casual sex.

“Aren’t you leaving?” she asked. “It’s ten-thirty. Past my bedtime. We’re early risers around here.”

He patted the wood slat bottom of the swing. “Come sit with me before I go home. It’s a beautiful spring night. Stars and moon and fresh country air.”

“You don’t want to go home, do you?”

“What?”

“I said, you don’t want to go home. You don’t want to be alone.”

“Smart lady.”

“Why didn’t you go to Nashville and stay with Tallie and Peyton instead of coming back to Crooked Oak if you hate being alone?”

“I thought I wanted a quiet, isolated place to hide away,” he admitted. “But I’ve discovered that I’m not a loner. I like contact with other people far too much. Especially certain old friends.”

Sheila laughed. Dear Lord, he was such a flirt. Such a charmer. Those things about Caleb hadn’t changed. “Oh, all right, I’ll sit in the swing with you for fifteen minutes and then you’ll go home and I’ll go in to bed.”

“Mmm.” He grinned mischievously. “We could skip the fifteen minutes in the swing and forget about my going home and just head straight to your bed.”

She knew he was joking, or at least halfway joking, and wondered how long it had been since he’d laughed and kidded around since the accident.

She sat with him, their side-by-side bodies filling the narrow swing. He slid his arm around her shoulders. She allowed him to touch her, to bring her body close to his, and for a moment she closed her eyes and pretended that there was more than loneliness prompting his actions.

“How long’s it been?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“How long’s what been?” she replied.

“Since you got some.”

Sheila giggled. “What a question to ask me. You’re certainly not a romantic are you, Caleb?”

“Nope. So?”

“‘So’ what?”

“So, how long has it been since you got some?”

“For your information, I don’t get some,” she said. “I have sex. I make love.”

“Okay. How long’s it been since you had sex or made love?”

“Do you think that’s any of your business?”

“Maybe not.” He slid his left hand beneath her hair and caressed the nape of her neck. She shuddered. “What if I tell you how long it’s been for me? Then will you tell me?”

“Maybe I don’t want to know,” she said.

“Sure you do.” He nuzzled the side of her neck. She shuddered again. “I haven’t had sex in a year. Not since before the accident.”

His tongue circled her ear. Her mouth formed a surprised oval as she silently gasped. “I—I find that hard to believe. I’m sure there have been dozens of women who—” He kissed her ear at the same moment he speared his fingers into her hair and grasped her head. “Caleb, don’t do this to me.”

“I could have gotten it on with some of my nurses and even with a willing fan or two who sneaked into my hospital room, but I was in no shape to fool around. And when I recovered enough to go home to my apartment, I went through several months of deep depression.”

“I’m sorry. Tallie told me how worried she’s been about you.”

“Fess up, honey,” he said. “I told you, so now it’s your turn to tell me. How long’s it been?”

“Five years,” she said softly.

“Five years!” He grabbed her chin and turned her to face him. “Are you saying you haven’t had sex with anyone since your husband died?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

“But why?”

“Because I don’t have sex with a man unless he’s important to me, unless I care about him and. . . Don’t look at me that way.”

“What way?” he asked. “How am I looking at you?”

“Don’t.” She jumped up from the swing and headed for the front door, but Caleb caught her before her hand reached the knob.

He encircled her body with his arms and pulled her back up against his chest. “You need me as much as I need you. We could be so good for each other.” He turned her around and lowered his mouth to hers.

Not only did she want his kiss, she accepted it with enthusiasm, opening her mouth for his invasion. Hot and demanding and all-consuming, his tongue pillaged while his big hand held her head in place and his body pressed intimately against hers. His sex pulsed against her mound, requesting permission for entrance.