Читать книгу Three Boys and a Baby - Laura Altom Marie - Страница 11

“No,” Ella said, chin raised, hands on her hips. “I’m not going to just drop it. Jackson, you need to—”

“Don’t tell me what I need to do, when—”

“Ah, that’s better,” Julie said in a breezy tone, sailing into the kitchen. “Seems like the older I get, the more time I spend in the loo.” Snatching a carrot from a veggie plate, she eyed Jackson, then Ella. “Did I miss something?”

“No,” Ella said, turning toward the sink, thankful to no longer be in the line of Jackson’s challenging stare. What had gotten into her even to care what his problem was? Obviously, the guy had a chip on his shoulder the size of Montana in regard to his ex.

“I like what you’ve done with the kitchen,” Julie said, suddenly alongside her, reaching for the dishtowel to lend Ella a hand. “I’ve always loved a yellow kitchen. It somehow makes everything feel better.”

“Do you own a home in Kansas City?” Ella asked, more out of a wish to be polite than because she honestly cared. For what the woman had so selfishly put Dillon through, Ella didn’t think she’d ever consider Julie Tate a friend.

“Not yet. But lately, I’ve been thinking about it. The condo I rent is gorgeous, but bland. Very beige. I miss putting my own decorative touch on things.”

“Sure,” Ella said, reaching for one of the boys’ dirtied salad bowls. One of these days, she really had to get around to buying a dishwasher.

“With our house here, Jackson and I used to do projects every weekend. Remember, hon? That time we tiled the master bath floor, we got all the way through before we noticed the pattern was crooked.”

From his seat at the kitchen table, Jackson grunted.

Was Julie hurting him with her trip down memory lane?

“Anyway,” Julie continued, “as big a pain as that was, in the end, the floor looked gorgeous. I miss that bathroom. The tall windows. My master bath in K.C. doesn’t have even one window. Makes me crazy not being able to see outside.”

“I don’t blame you,” Ella said, handing her guest a freshly rinsed salad bowl to dry.

Jackson asked, “Should I check on the boys?”

“Why don’t I do it?” Julie set the dishtowel on the counter. “I’d like to spend as much time as possible with Dillon while I’m in town.”

A few minutes after she’d left, Jackson cleared his throat. “That was fun.”

“Sorry,” Ella said, not sure what else to say. “For what it’s worth, I feel your pain in suddenly finding yourself stuck with your ex. Todd and his blushing bride came in the clinic the other day with Ben.”

“Is that their little boy?”

“Yep.” Fighting past the lump in her throat, Ella returned to her dishes. Maybe it was a good thing she hadn’t gone dishwasher shopping. Scrubbing gave her something to do other than dwell on personal problems. “He was due for his one-year checkup. Todd never once went to one of the boys’ doctor appointments, yet that day, with Dawn, he was the very embodiment of fatherly perfection.”

“Wow.” Jackson rubbed his jaw. “And here I thought I had it rough hearing my ex recalling home-improvement hell like it was time spent skipping through daisies.”

Ella couldn’t help but laugh. “Daisies?”

“You know what I mean.” Getting up from the table, he snatched the dishtowel and dried the plate she’d just rinsed. “The woman makes me crazy. She’s the one who ended our marriage, yet it seems like every time she blows into town to see Dillon, she’s filled with nothing but happy memories. She wears blinders when it comes to our last year. The hell she put all of us through.”

“Not that it’s any of my business—” Ella said, draining the suds from the sink, then rinsing “—and, please, feel free to tell me to butt out, but why couldn’t she practice law here?”

He snorted. “Said it was boring. She wasn’t being challenged.”

“I suppose for her field of criminal law, defending the occasional jaywalker or underage drinker would get dull.”

“But what about me and Dillon? Were we dull?”

“Jackson…” Ella hefted herself onto the counter, letting her legs swing. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but did you ever think of moving to Kansas City to be with her? I mean, they do have firemen there, don’t they?”

He exhaled sharply, then looked away.

“What’s wrong? Another sore subject?”

Posture defeated, he shook his head. “Don’t think I didn’t suggest the same thing. But she turned me down. Fed me some nonsense about how if we were with her, she’d feel honor bound to spend time with us instead of working her way up the proverbial ladder. Can you imagine?”

Ouch. Todd had at least left her and the boys for lust. But to be abandoned for work?

Ella pressed her lips tight, hopping off the counter to give Jackson a hug. “I’m so sorry. You deserve better.”

“We both do,” he murmured into her hair.

Ella had meant the hug to be comforting. Purely platonic. But something about the warmth of Jackson’s breath on her neck made her insides quiver. Awareness flooded her. A hypersensitivity to his size. His all-male smell. The way his hold wrapped her like a blanket—which was madness. She already had more than enough quilts in the upstairs linen closet, thank you very much. After Todd had left, she’d promised herself never again to turn to a man for emotional support. Sure, she might one day be in another relationship, but never again all the way. Heart and soul. Todd’s infidelity had come damn near close to destroying her, and for the boys’ sake, she had to learn to depend on herself.

Releasing Jackson, she turned her back to him, straightened the flyaways in her hair while willing her pounding heart to still.

It had just been a hug.

So what if her stomach had somersaulted?

Obviously, judging by their earlier conversation, Jackson still had feelings for his ex-wife. Meaning? Simply that when Ella finally felt comfortable enough in her own skin to rejoin the dating scene, Jackson would be a lousy first candidate.

“Thanks,” he said.

“For what?” Her mouth had become the Sahara.

“Listening. Being here. For always having been such a good friend to Dillon, and now me.”

She shrugged, not trusting herself to meet his gaze. “No biggie.”

“Yeah, well, it is to us.” Landing a playful slug to her right shoulder, he added, “You’re a good gal.”

A good gal? Nice. Way to make me feel like a desirable woman. Not that that’s what she expected him to think of her, just that he certainly had a knack for making her feel decidedly undesirable.

Hand clamped to her forehead, she said, “I’m, ah, really tired. How about we track down our respective kids and call it a night?”

“We good?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t we be?” She gave him a bright smile.

“Hey…” Hand warmly clamped to her shoulder he said, “Even I know that’s not your real smile.”

“How would you know that?”

“Because at the exact moment we found out the boys were safe, I was privy to the real deal.” Flashing a heart-tugging grin all his own, he winked. “I like that one much better.” After squeezing her shoulder, he tucked his hands in his jeans pockets, then whistled his way to the back door. “Once I find our crew, I’ll send yours home.”

“THAT WAS NICE,” Julie said while Dillon, still hyped up on the thirty-eight cookies he’d apparently downed at Whitney’s house, jumped in front of the stuck screen door.

“You should fix that, Dad,” his kid said, still jumping and not even breaking a sweat.

“I’ll get right on it,” Jackson said, giving the stupid thing a hard enough yank to pop off the bottom hinge, too.

“Honey,” Julie complained, while he hefted the screen door out of the way, leaning it against the side of the house.

“Look what you did. If you’d just let me do it, it wouldn’t have broken. All you had to do was lift and jiggle.”

Jackson took a deep breath and counted to ten.

She brushed him aside, then slid her key into the main door’s lock. It irked him to no end that she even had a key.

Dillon shot by. “I’m gonna go play with my Xbox, ’kay?”

“What you’re going to do,” Julie shouted after him as he dashed up the stairs, “is get in the tub, then head straight to bed. Tomorrow’s a school day.”

“Aw, man…”

“Do it,” Julie said, presumably in the same scary, I-mean-business tone she used on her new hardened-felon friends.

Jackson tossed his keys on the entry-hall side table, releasing a sigh. “Jules…You can’t just waltz in here—”

“You called me Jules,” she said, nestling her designer purse alongside his keys before sliding her arms around his waist and resting her cheek on his chest. “It’s been a long time since you’ve called me that.”

“Don’t read anything into it. It’s been an endless day, and I’m tired.”

“I know what would make you feel better…” Easing her hands under his shirt’s hem, she palmed his abs. There had been a time when her lightest touch instantly had him hard. Now? It didn’t faze him. “Mmm…I see you’ve been working out.”

“Okay,” he said, royally ticked she’d pull this kind of stunt. Lightly grasping her wrists, he pushed her away. “I’ve officially had all I can stomach of whatever twisted game you’re playing. First, you waltz in here, acting like you’re our kid’s mom when—”

“I am, and always will be, his mother.”

“You gave him up, remember?” Along with me.

“Stop. You’re not being fair.”

“Fair? Julie, you freakin’ walked out on us both. It’s been three weeks since you’ve even called Dillon to say hi, yet now you actually care whether or not he has a bath? Give me a break.”

“No, you give me a break. Just because I—”

“Mom? Dad?” Jackson had been so engrossed with telling off his ex, he hadn’t noticed his son sneaking up alongside them. Make no mistake—Dillon was his son. “I thought you weren’t going to fight anymore.”

Running his hands through his hair, not having a clue what to say to his little boy, Jackson headed for the kitchen.

“That’s real mature!” Julie shouted after him. “Just walk away when our son is crying out for help!”

Oh—now she wanted to play the maturity game? With everything in him, Jackson wanted to tell this woman—this destroyer of their lives—just what he truly thought of her. But then he caught sight of Dillon. The way his lower lip trembled. Heart aching, Jackson went to his kid, easily lifting him into his arms.

“I love you,” he said quietly in Dillon’s ear. “Everything’s going to be all right. Promise.”

Dillon squirmed and bucked against him. “Put me down. I want Mommy.”

Jackson did put Dillon down, silently watching while Dillon ran to Julie for a hug. But whereas he’d have fully expected Julie’s expression to be triumphant, the gaze she shot over their son’s shoulder was remorseful and threatening tears.

Tears? Was such a thing even possible from the woman he’d secretly dubbed the Ice Queen?

“Hey, bud,” Jackson said, clearing his throat when his voice came out hoarse. “You need to get on with that bath.”

“I will, Dad, but first, you have to promise not to fight anymore with Mommy.”

Jaw tight, Jackson nodded.

“And, Mommy,” Dillon said, eyes wide and shining, “you have to come be with us more, okay?”

“I will, angel.” She kissed the crown of his head.

Once again, Dillon was off. This time, accompanied by the groan of the upstairs bathroom pipes when the tub water was turned on.

“I’m sorry,” Julie said, sitting on the staircase’s third step.

“No apology necessary. Let’s just leave the past in the past.”

“No,” she said with a firm shake of her head. “When you told me Dillon was missing…I swear to God, my life flashed before my eyes. I mean, I know this will sound clichéd, but in that instant, everything faded except what’s important—real. Dillon. You.”

Tilting his head back in what he assumed would be a futile attempt to work the kinks from his aching neck, Jackson ignored the last part of Julie’s speech. How many times when the ink had still been wet on their divorce papers had he prayed to hear those very words? But that had been a long time ago. He wasn’t the same man. She’d emotionally destroyed him, and it would take a lot more than pretty words to put him back together.

“Well?” She gazed up at him with the same big brown eyes as their son. In the entry hall’s dim overhead light, she’d never looked more beautiful, or, at the same time, more treacherous. Like quicksand, exploration would be foolish. “Aren’t you going to say anything? Haven’t you missed me?”

“Sure, but—”

“When I saw you tonight with Rose in your arms, it took me back to when Dillon was a baby. You were such a great dad, Jackson—always a way better parent than me. But when it came to my turn to hold Rose, it dawned on me that maybe this was a wake-up call. Maybe we should try again. Have another baby and remember the way things used to be before—”

“Before what, Jules? Before you took off? That’s a lovely fairy tale you’ve spun, but what happens when you get bored? Only this time, you’re abandoning two kids instead of one? How are you going to worm your way out of that?”

“Do you have to be cruel?” she asked, voice shaky while tears streamed down her cheeks. “I said I was sorry. No one’s perfect.”

Jackson wanted to be cruel.

More than anything, he wanted to hurt her as much as she’d hurt him.

But her tears were his undoing, and the rescuer in him took over. “Come here,” he said, tugging her up and into his arms. “We’re both tired. It’s been a long day. Maybe this is all stuff that should be gone over tomorrow?”

Sniffling, she nodded against his chest. “I love you.”

Not knowing if he loved her, hated her, or felt a mixture of both, Jackson kept quiet. In the morning, he’d have clarity. Right now, all he wanted was sleep.

AT ONE IN THE MORNING, Ella finally stopped even trying to sleep, tossed back the covers and aimed straight for the peanut butter and chocolate-chunk swirl she’d stashed in the very back of the freezer, hoping it would be safe from little hands.

Baby Rose had been up a good half-dozen times, leaving Ella feeling more like a zombie than a well-rested physician who had to be in the clinic by eight.

She’d just closed her eyes upon taking the first sinful bite of ice cream when a knock sounded at the back door. Startled, she jumped, nicking the roof of her mouth with the spoon.

Through the ruffled back-door curtains, she made out a man’s figure. Heart pounding, she snatched the rolling pin from a jar filled with kitchen utensils, then flipped on the back porch light only to exhale in relief. Her late-night visitor was Jackson.

Unlocking the door, she asked, “What are you doing here? Is everything all right? Where’s Dillon?”

“Everything’s sort of fine,” he said with a grimace, brushing past her, overwhelming her with his size. “As for Dillon, he’s sound asleep. Julie’s at the house with him.”

“She slept over?” Ella couldn’t keep from asking, her right eyebrow rising.

“No,” Jackson said, face reddening. “It wasn’t that kind of sleepover. She said because of all the National Guard guys in town, she couldn’t get a motel room, so I set her up in the guest room.”

“Oh.” After setting the rolling pin on the counter, she plopped back down at the kitchen table, wishing she’d slept in a cute baby-doll nightie rather than a baby-stained T-shirt and thin cotton shorts. “Not to be rude, but why are you here?”

Eyeing the rolling pin, he grinned. “That could’ve hurt.”

“I’m not accustomed to late-night—or, I guess that would be early-morning—visitors.”

“Sorry. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t sleep, and if the wind’s blowing the trees just right, there’s a view of your kitchen window from my master bath. I saw you were up, and…” He shrugged. “Got another spoon?”

She got up to find him a utensil, then handed it to him where he sat in the chair alongside hers. There was something oddly intimate about the moment. The occasional kissing of their spoons, crickets singing through the open window above the sink. The way Jackson’s hair was mussed and the sleepy look in his eyes.

“So,” he said, piercing the night’s quiet with the single syllable word. “Julie apologized. Burst into tears and said she wants to try getting back together.”

“Th-that’s wonderful,” Ella said, more than a little taken aback. “I mean, assuming that’s what you want. I know that’s what Dillon’s been hoping for, but…” Her words trailed off as she searched Jackson’s unreadable expression.

“You know, that’s what’s so weird about the whole thing. Being a family again feels like all I’ve ever wanted, but she hurt me. Bad. When I snapped at you out by the old paddlewheeler—when you said ‘for better or worse’—it was because for so long now, my marriage has been reduced to the or worse portion of our vows. With Dillon still having been gone, in that instant, I guess I felt as though if one more bad thing slammed me, I’d crack.”