Читать книгу For the Sake of Their Son - Catherine Mann - Страница 9

Two

Elliot held himself completely still, a feat of supreme control given the frustration racing through his veins. That Lucy Ann had hidden her pregnancy—his son—from him all this time threatened to send him to his knees. Somehow during this past year he’d never let go of the notion that everything would simply return to the way things had been before with them. Their friendship had carried him through the worst times of his life.

Now he knew there was no going back. Things between them had changed irrevocably.

They had a child together, a boy just inches away. Elliot clenched his hand around the rope. He needed to bide his time and proceed with caution. His lifelong friend had a million great qualities—but she was also stubborn as hell. A wrong step during this surprise meeting could have her digging in her heels.

He had to control his frustration, tamp down the anger over all that she’d hidden from him. Staying levelheaded saved his life on more than one occasion on the racetrack. But never had the stakes been more important than now. No matter how robbed he felt, he couldn’t let that show.

Life had taught him well how to hide his darker emotions.

So he waited, watching her face for some sign. The breeze lifted a strand of her hair, whipping it over his cheek. His pulse thumped harder.

“Well, Lucy Ann? What now?”

Her pupils widened in her golden-brown eyes, betraying her answering awareness a second before she bolted up from the swing. Elliot lurched forward as the swing freed. He released the rope and found his footing.

Lucy Ann glanced over her shoulder as she made her way to the graveled path. “Let’s go inside.”

“Where’s your aunt?” He followed her, rocks crunching under his feet.

“At work.” Lucy Ann walked up the steps leading to the prefab log cabin’s long front porch. Time had worn the redwood look down to a rusty hue. “She still waits tables at the Pizza Shack.”

“You used to send her money.” He’d stumbled across the bank transaction by accident. Or maybe his accountant had made a point of letting him discover the transfers since Lucy Ann left so little for herself.

“Well, come to find out, Aunt Carla never used it,” Lucy Ann said wryly, pushing the door open into the living room. The decor hadn’t changed, the same brown plaid sofa with the same saggy middle, the same dusty Hummel figurines packed in a corner cabinet. He’d forgotten how Carla scoured yard sales religiously for the things, unable to afford them new.

They’d hidden here more than once as kids, then as teenagers, plotting a way to escape their home lives. He eyed the son he’d barely met but who already filled his every plan going forward. “Your aunt’s prideful, just like you.”

“I accepted a job from you.” She settled Eli into a portable crib by the couch.

“You worked your butt off and got your degree in computer technology.” He admired the way she never took the easy way out. How she’d found a career for herself.

So why had she avoided talking to him? Surely not from any fear of confrontation. Her hair swung forward as she leaned into the baby crib, her dress clinging to her hips. His gaze hitched on the new curves.

Lucy Ann spun away from the crib and faced him again. “Are we going to keep making small talk or are you going to call a cab? I could drive you back into town.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyebrows pinched together. “I thought we agreed to talk tomorrow.”

“You decided. I never agreed.” He dropped to sit on the sofa arm. If he sat in the middle, no telling how deep that sag would sink.

“You led me to believe...” She looked around as if searching for answers, but the Hummels stayed silent. “Damn it. You just wanted to get in the house.”

Guilty as charged. “This really is the best place to discuss the future. Anywhere else and I’ll have to be on the lookout for fans. We’re in NASCAR country, you know. Not Formula One, but kissing cousins.” He held up his hands. “Besides, my jackass buddies stranded me without my wallet.”

She gasped. “You’re joking.”

“I wish.” They must have taken it from his pocket while he was knocked out. He tamped down another surge of anger over being manipulated. If he’d just had some warning...

“Why did they do this to you—to both of us?” She sat on the other arm of the sofa, the worn width between them.

“Probably because they know how stubborn we are.” He watched her face, trying to read the truth in the delicate lines, but he saw only exhaustion and dark circles. “Would you have ever told me about the baby?”

“You’ve asked me that already and I’ve answered. Of course I would have told you—” she shrugged “―eventually.”

Finally he asked the question that had been plaguing him most. “How can I be sure?”

Shaking her head, she shrugged again. “You can’t. You’ll just have to trust me.”

A wry smile tugged the corner of his mouth. “Trust has never been easy for either of us.” But now that he was here and saw the truth, his decision was simple. “I want you and Eli to come with me, just for a few weeks while we make plans for the future.”

“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Ah, come on, Lucy Ann. Think about my request before you react.”

“Okay. Thinking...” She tapped her temple, tapping, tapping. Her hand fell to her lap. “Still no.”

God, her humor and spunk had lifted him out of hell so many times. He’d missed her since she’d stormed out of his life....

But he’d also missed out on a lot more in not knowing about his son.

“I can never regain those first two months of Eli’s life.” A bitter pill he wasn’t sure how to swallow down. “I need a chance to make up for that.”

She shook her head slowly. “You can’t be serious about taking a baby on the road.”

“I’m dead serious.” He wasn’t leaving here without them. He couldn’t just toss money down and go.

“Let me spell it out for you then. Elliot, this is the middle of your racing season.” She spoke slowly, as she’d done when they were kids and she’d tutored him in multiplication tables. “You’ll be traveling, working, running with a party crowd. I’ve seen it year after year, enough to know that’s no environment for a baby.”

And damn it, she was every bit as astute now as she’d been then. He lined up an argument, a way to bypass her concerns. “You saw my life when there wasn’t a baby around—no kids around, actually. It can be different. I can be different, like other guys who bring their families on the circuit with them.” He shifted to sit beside her. “I have a damn compelling reason to make changes in my life. This is the chance to show you that.”

Twisting the skirt of her dress in nervous fingers, she studied him with her golden-brown gaze for so long he thought he’d won.

Then resolve hardened her eyes again. “Expecting someone to change only sets us both up for disappointment.”

“Then you’ll get to say ‘I told you so.’ You told me often enough in the past.” He rested a hand on top of hers to still the nervous fidgeting, squeezing lightly. “The best that happens is I’m right and this works. We find a plan to be good parents to Eli even when we’re jet-setting around the world. Remember how much fun we used to have together? I miss you, Lucy Ann.”

He thumbed the inside of her wrist, measuring the speed of her pulse, the softness of her skin. He’d done everything he could to put her out of his mind, but with no luck. He’d been unfair to Gianna, leading her to think he was free. So many regrets. He was tired of them. “Lucy Ann...”

She yanked her hand free. “Stop it, Elliot. I’ve watched you seduce a lot of women over the years. Your games don’t work with me. So don’t even try the slick moves.”

“You wound me.” He clamped a hand over his heart in an attempt at melodrama to cover his disappointment.

She snorted. “Hardly. You don’t fool me with the pained look. It’s eleven months too late to be genuine.”

“You would be wrong about that.”

“No games.” She shot to her feet. “We both need time to regroup and think. We need to continue this conversation later.”

“Fair enough then.” He sat on the sofa, stretching both arms out along the back.

She stomped her foot. “What are you doing?”

He picked up the remote from the coffee table and leaned back again into the deepest, saggiest part. “Making myself comfortable.”

“For what?”

He thumbed on the television. “If I’m going to stick around until you’re ready to talk, I might as well scout the good stations. Any beer in the fridge? Although wait, it’s too early for that. How about coffee?”

“No.” She snatched the remote control from his hand. “And stop it. I don’t know what game you’re playing but you can quit and go. In case that wasn’t clear enough, leave and come back later. You can take my car.”

He took the remote right back and channel surfed without looking away from the flat screen. “Thanks for the generous offer of transportation, but you said we can’t take Eli on the road and I only just met my son. I’m not leaving him now. How about the coffee?”

“Like hell.”

“I don’t need cream. Black will do just fine.”

“Argh!” She slumped against the archway between the living room and kitchen. “Quit being ridiculous about the coffee. You know you’re not staying here.”

He set aside the remote, smiling as some morning talk show droned in the background. “So you’ll come with me after all. Good.”

“You’re crazy. You know that, right?”

“No newsflash there, sweetheart. A few too many concussions.” He stood. “Forget the suitcase.”

“Run that by me again?”

“Don’t bother with packing. I’ll buy everything you need, everything new. Let’s just grab a couple of diapers for the rug rat and go.”

Her acceptance was becoming more and more important by the second. He needed her with him. He had to figure out a way to tie their lives together again so his son would know a father, a mother and a normal life.

“Stop! Stop trying to control my life.” She stared at him sadly. “Elliot, I appreciate all you did for me in the past, but I don’t need rescuing anymore.”

“Last time I checked, I wasn’t offering a rescue. Just a partnership.”

If humor and pigheadedness didn’t work, time to go back to other tactics. No great hardship really, since the attraction crackled between them every bit as tangibly now as it had the night they’d impulsively landed in bed together after a successful win. He sauntered closer. “As I recall, last time we were together, we shared control quite...nicely. And now that I think of it, we really don’t need those clothes after all.”

* * *

The rough upholstery of the sofa rasped against the backs of Lucy Ann’s legs, her skin oversensitive, tingling to life after just a few words from Elliot. Damn it, she refused to be seduced by him again. The way her body betrayed her infuriated her down to her toes, which curled in her sandals.

Sure, he was beach-boy handsome, mesmerizingly sexy and blindingly charming. Women around the world could attest to his allure. However, in spite of her one unforgettable moment of weakness, she refused to be one of those fawning females throwing themselves at his feet.

No matter how deeply her body betrayed her every time he walked in the room.

She shot from the sofa, pacing restlessly since she couldn’t bring herself to leave her son alone, even though he slept. Damn Elliot and the draw of attraction that had plagued her since the day they’d gone skinny-dipping at fourteen and she realized they weren’t kids anymore.

Shutting off those thoughts, she pivoted on the coarse shag carpet to face him. “This is not the time or the place for sexual innuendo.”

“Honey―” his arms stretched along the back of the sofa “―it’s never a bad time for sensuality. For nuances. For seduction.”

The humor in his eyes took the edge of arrogance off his words. “If you’re aiming to persuade me to leave with you, you’re going about it completely the wrong way.”

“There’s no denying we slept together.”

“Clearly.” She nodded toward the Pack ’n Play where their son slept contentedly, unaware that his little world had just been turned upside down.

“There’s no denying that it was good between us. Very good.”

Elliot’s husky words snapped her attention back to his face. There wasn’t a hint of humor in sight. Awareness tingled to the roots of her hair.

Swallowing hard, she sank into an old cane rocker. “It was impulsive. We were both tipsy and sentimental and reckless.” The rush of that evening sang through her memory, the celebration of his win, reminiscing about his first dirt track race, a little wine, too much whimsy, then far too few clothes.... “I refuse to regret that night or call our...encounter...a mistake since I have Eli. But I do not intend to repeat the experience.”

“Now that’s just a damn shame. What a waste of good sexual chemistry.”

“Will you please stop?” Her hands fisted on the arms of the wooden rocker. “We got along just fine as friends for thirty years.”

“Are you saying we can be friends again?” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “No more hiding out and keeping big fat secrets from each other?”

His words carried too much truth for comfort. “You’re twisting my words around.”

“God’s honest truth, Lucy Ann.” He sighed. “I’m trying to call a truce so we can figure out how to plan our son’s future.”

“By telling me to ditch my clothes? You obviously missed class the day they taught the definition of truce.”

“Okay, you’re right. That wasn’t fair of me.” He thrust his hands through his hair. “I’m not thinking as clearly as I would like. Learning about Eli has been a shock to say the least.”

“I can understand that.” Her hands unfurled to grip the rocker. “And I am so very sorry for any pain this has caused you.”

“Given that I’ve lost the first two months of my son’s life, the least you can do is give me four weeks together. Since you’re working from home here, you’ll be able to work on the road, as well. But if going on the race circuit is a deal breaker, I’ll bow out this season.”

She jolted in surprise that he would risk all he’d worked so hard to achieve, a career he so deeply loved. “What about your sponsors? Your reputation?”

“This is your call.”

“That’s not fair to make an ultimatum like that, to put it on me.”

“I’m asking, and I’m offering you choices.”

Choices? Hardly. She knew how important his racing career was to him. And she couldn’t help but admit to feeling a bit of pride in having helped him along the way. There was no way she could let him back out now.

She tossed up her hands. “Fine. Eli and I will travel with you on the race circuit for the next four weeks so you can figure out whatever it is you want to know and make your plans. You win. You always do.”

* * *

Winning didn’t feel much like a victory tonight.

Elliot poured himself a drink from the wet bar at his hotel. He and Lucy Ann had struck a bargain that he would stay at a nearby historic home that had been converted into a hotel while she made arrangements to leave in the morning. He’d called for a car service to pick him up, making use of his credit card numbers, memorized, a fact he hadn’t bothered mentioning to Lucy Ann earlier. Although she should have known. Had she selectively forgotten or had she been that rattled?

The half hour waiting for the car had been spent silently staring at his son while Eli slept and Lucy Ann hid in the other room under the guise of packing.

Elliot’s head was still reeling. He had been knocked unconscious and kidnapped, and found out he had an unknown son all in one day. He tipped back the glass of bourbon, emptying it and pouring another to savor, more slowly, while he sat out on the garden balcony where he would get better cell phone reception.

He dropped into a wrought-iron chair and let the Carolina moon pour over him. His home state brought such a mix of happy and sad memories. He was always better served just staying the hell away. He tugged his cell from his waistband, tucked his Bluetooth in his ear and thumbed autodial three for Malcolm Douglas.

The ringing stopped two buzzes in. “Brother, how’s it going?”

“How do you think it’s going, Douglas? My head hurts and I’m pissed off.” Anger was stoked back to life just thinking about his friends’ arrogant stunt, the way they’d played with his life. “You could have just told me about the baby.”

Malcolm chuckled softly. “Wouldn’t have been half as fun that way.”

“Fun? You think this is some kind of game? You’re a sick bastard.” The thought of them plotting this out while he partied blissfully unaware had him working hard to keep his breath steady. He and his friends had played some harsh jokes on one another in the past, but nothing like this. “How long have you known?”

“For about a week,” the chart-topping musician answered unrepentantly.

“A week.” Seven days he could have had with his son. Seven days his best friends kept the largest of secrets from him. Anger flamed through him. Was there nobody left in this world he could trust? He clenched his hand around the glass tumbler until it threatened to shatter. “And you said nothing at all.”

“I know it seems twisted, but we talked it through,” he said, all humor gone, his smooth tones completely serious for once. “We thought this was the best way. You’re too good at playing it cool with advance notice. You would have just made her mad.”

“Like I didn’t already do that?” He set aside the half-drunk glass of bourbon, the top-shelf brand wasted on him in his current mood.

“You confronted her with honesty,” Malcolm answered reasonably. “If we’d given you time to think, you’d have gotten your pride up. You would have been angry and bullish. You can be rather pigheaded, you know.”

“If I’m such a jackass, then why are we still friends?”

“Because I’m a jackass, too.” Malcolm paused before continuing somberly. “You would have done the same for me. I know what it’s like not to see your child, to have missed out on time you can never get back...”

Malcolm’s voice choked off with emotion. He and his wife had been high school sweethearts who’d had to give up a baby girl for adoption since they were too young to provide a life for their daughter. Now they had twins—a boy and a girl—they loved dearly, but they still grieved for that first child, even knowing they’d made the right decision for her.

Although Malcolm and Celia had both known about their child from the start.

Elliot forked his hands through his buzzed hair, kept closely shorn since he’d let his thoughts of Lucy Ann distract him and he’d caught his car on fire just before Christmas—nearly caught himself on fire, as well.

He’d scorched his hair; the call had been that damn close.

“I just can’t wrap my brain around the fact she’s kept his existence from me for so long.”

Malcolm snorted. “I can’t believe the two of you slept together.”

A growl rumbled low in his throat. “You’re close to overstepping the bounds of our friendship with talk like that.”

“Ahhh.” He chuckled. “So you do care about her more than you’ve let on.”

“We were...friends. Lifelong friends. That’s no secret.” He and Lucy Ann shared so much history it was impossible to unravel events from the past without thinking about each other. “The fact that there was briefly more...I can’t deny that, either.”

“You must not have been up to snuff for her to run so fast.”

Anger hissed between Elliot’s teeth, and he resisted the urge to pitch his Bluetooth over the balcony. “Now you have crossed the line. If we were sitting in the same place right now, my fist would be in your face.”

“Fair enough.” Douglas laughed softly again. “Like I said. You do care more than a little, more than any ‘buddy.’ And you can’t refute it. Admit it, Elliot. I’ve just played you, my friend.”

No use denying he’d been outmaneuvered by someone who knew him too well.

And as for what Malcolm had said? That he cared for Lucy Ann? Cared? Yes. He had. And like every other time in his life he’d cared, things had gone south.

If he wanted to sort through this mess and create any kind of future with Eli and Lucy Ann, he had to think more and care less.