Something About Joe

by Kandy Shepherd

  She shuddered with distaste. “How can you say that, after the way you treated me?”

  “Allison, I told you, I’ve changed. I want to make amends for past mistakes.”

  “We’re divorced.”

  “So?”

  “I don’t know what you’re asking of me.”

  “I’ve told you. A second chance. With you. With Mitchell. Isn’t it best for him to have two parents? His two natural parents?”

  Dread crept around Allison’s heart. Peter had always known how to get to her. She’d never shared the details of her childhood as freely as she had with Joe. But Peter knew how the loss of her own birth mother had affected her and how far she’d go to protect Mitchell from the kind of pain she’d endured.

  Allison felt overwhelmed with longing for Joe. For his honesty and forthrightness.

  And yet...and yet Joe didn’t want to be a father to Mitchell, and now Peter did.

  Her mind was whirling. “We...we could consider some kind of visitation agreement,” she managed to stammer.

  Again she longed for Joe, for his strong arms around her, for his comfort and reassurance.

  Peter’s pale eyes were coolly assessing. “What’s best for Mitchell is for him to be living with both his parents.”

  Peter flashed an oh-so-charming smile at her that made Allison feel as though her suspicions were a neurotic over-reaction. It was a feeling familiar to her during her marriage, and nearly forgotten.

  “I’m not asking you to make a decision now,” he said. “I’m asking you to think about it. For Mitchell’s sake.”

  She hesitated. “I don’t know. I—”

  “Think about it,” Peter said. “I’ll leave you to consider what I’ve said.”

  For an incredulous moment Allison thought he was about to leave without seeing Mitchell.

  “Don’t you want to see Mitchell?”

  A frown crossed Peter’s features but was gone so quickly she thought she must have imagined it. Surely he hadn’t intended to leave without seeing his son?

  “Of course,” he said. “I’ve been wondering where the little tyke is.”

  “Still asleep upstairs. He was very ill. He was in hospital most of the night.”

  Just then, a querulous little voice sounded down the stairs. “Momma!”

  “There he is now. Come on.”

  Peter picked up the elephant. He looked awkward holding it. “I hope he likes this. I had a stuffed elephant when I was a kid, and I really loved it.”

  Allison stopped, astounded Peter should talk about his childhood. Those words came from the heart.

  For a moment she could see the lonely little boy Peter had once been. His parents had run an isolated cattle ranch and had sent him away to boarding school when he was only seven. And now he’d bought his son the same toy that had brought him comfort.

  Maybe—just maybe—he really had changed, she thought, as she climbed the stairs.

  Mitchell was standing up in his cot, hanging on to the railings. “Hungy, Momma, hungy.”

  “Of course you’re hungry, my angel. You’ve been very sick,” Allison said.

  She reached down and swept Mitchell into her arms, kissing him on the forehead, both cheeks and in the delicious little hollow of his throat, not caring about his sodden diaper. She was very conscious of Peter standing behind her. Turning, she faced him.

  “He’s grown a lot since...since you last saw him,” she said, her voice choked with emotion at the thought of Mitchell finally getting to know his father. Peter had only seen Mitchell once before, when he’d been six weeks old.

  “He looks like me,” said Peter, his pale eyes glowing with something that looked like pride, “how about that.”

  He stepped toward Allison and Mitchell, awkwardly holding out the elephant. Allison held her breath. Mitchell looked unblinkingly at his father and then buried his face in Allison’s neck.

  “This...this is your daddy, Mitchell,” she said, her voice shaking. How she’d longed for this moment. Prayed for it.

  From the safety of her arms Mitchell stared at Peter. “No,” he said.

  Allison laughed nervously. “He is your daddy, sweetie.”

  Mitchell’s bottom lip curled mutinously. “Want Joe. Want Joe daddy.”

  Peter’s face didn’t give away what he was feeling, although his lips tightened. He thrust the elephant at his son. “This is for you, Mitchell.”

  Mitchell burst into tears and started wailing.

  “You’ve frightened him. The toy is so big,” said Allison. She felt overwhelmed with disappointment at Mitchell’s rejection of his father, and sadness at his unwavering love for Joe, the man who didn’t want to be a father to him.

  “I’m sorry Peter, he’s shy with strangers,” she said, raising her voice to be heard above Mitchell’s crying. She patted her son on the back. “Come on, baby, it’s okay.” Mitchell’s sobs subsided.

  “Who the hell is Joe?” Peter asked at the same time his eyes lit on the leather jacket laid out on the folding bed. Allison had slept with it clutched to her breast.

  “I get the picture,” he said, answering his own question. “Joe’s the guy you were with last night. Someone told me he was Mitchell’s nanny.”

  She nodded. “Mitchell...he’s very fond of him.”

  Peter’s eyes narrowed. “That’s going to change. I’ll damn well make Mitchell fond of me,” he said, dumping the elephant in the cot.

  “That’s not how it works with kids,” Allison protested. She felt sorry for Peter but at the same time remembered, with a shudder, his ruthless competitiveness. “You have to earn their love.” And yet it had been love at first sight for Mitchell with Joe.

  “You can try again to make friends with him after I’ve changed his diaper. It’s very wet.”

  Peter looked so revolted at her words that she laughed. “Want to help?” she asked.

  He wrinkled his nose fastidiously. “I think that’s my cue to go.”

  Allison wanted to laugh again, but she sobered at the memory of how Joe looked after Mitchell: changing diapers, mopping up messes, sponging his feverish little face.

  Peter didn’t fit in a nursery. He seemed all wrong here. All wrong in her house, which had been stamped with the warm, generous presence of Joe.

  “I’ll walk you down to the door,” she said. She might be beginning to believe Peter had changed, but she didn’t want him alone in her house, checking out her possessions with those calculating eyes.

  “What about the...uh...” Peter eyed the offending diaper.

  “That can wait for a few minutes.”

  “Good,” he said, not hiding his relief.

  She picked up the elephant and brought it with her, balancing it on the other hip from Mitchell. Maybe Mitchell would show some interest in the toy before Peter went.

  At the front doorway Peter turned to her. Allison thought he was going to kiss her and she stepped back from him. But he didn’t.

  “Don’t forget, Allison, I want you to think about us getting back together. For Mitchell’s sake.”

  “Don’t try and force me into decisions just yet, Peter. I need time to think about this,” she said, wanting him out of her house.

  Peter didn’t try and prolong the discussion. He turned and left. It wasn’t until he was halfway down the pathway that Allison realized he hadn’t said goodbye to Mitchell.

  Joe stopped in his tracks as he saw Allison’s ex-husband Peter letting himself out of her front gate. He could scarcely believe what he was seeing. A sick feeling of anger and betrayal churned through him. So that’s why Allison wanted to finish things with him—she’d decided to go back to hubby. Yet she’d told him she never saw Peter.

  But women could so easily lie about things like that.

  Joe’s hands clenched into fists. He’d thought Allison was different.

  Allison was halfway up the stairs with Mitchell when she heard a knock on the door. Had Peter forgotten something? She was tempted not to
answer.

  Peter wanted her to think. Well, he’d given her plenty to think about. But she didn’t want him around while she was trying to puzzle out his strange reversal of attitude. She wanted to believe, for Mitchell’s sake, Peter had changed. But, after all she’d been through with him, she found it difficult to trust him.

  Her heart leaped when she opened the door and saw it was Joe, holding his helmet by his side like the day she’d first met him. Black jeans and a black T-shirt outlined every muscle. He hadn’t shaved, and the dark growth shadowing his jaw made him look unbearably sensual. Allison couldn’t suppress a shiver of desire.

  “Joe!” she said, and was echoed by Mitchell’s joyous cry.

  “Come in,” she said. “I’m so glad you’re here. Last night, I—”

  “Hello, Tiger,” said Joe gruffly, ruffling Mitchell’s hair. Mitchell gurgled in delight.

  “How is he?” Joe asked, without looking at her.

  “Good. Better. He’s even over the cough that brought on the fever.”

  They were talking like polite strangers. Joe made no move to kiss her. Allison was disappointed—until she remembered what she’d said to him last night. Why would he want to kiss her?

  But she wanted to kiss him.

  She saw Joe’s gaze go to the toy elephant, where she’d put it on the sofa.

  “Did Peter bring that?” he asked, his voice grim.

  “How did you—?”

  “I saw him leaving,” he said. “I thought you had nothing to do with him.”

  “I don’t.”

  “So how did he hear Mitchell was sick?”

  “He didn’t.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “He just came? A guy who doesn’t give a damn about his child appears on the doorstep with an expensive toy?”

  “That’s right. It was a surprise.”

  “I bet it was.”

  Allison was stunned at the cold set of his face. Mitchell looked from her to him and back again, sensing the hostility from his beloved Joe. His face puckered up.

  “Please, you’re upsetting Mitchell.”

  Joe’s face softened. “Sorry, little guy.”

  “Mitchell needs a diaper change and he’s hungry. If you...if we...want to talk we’ll have to look after him first.”

  “Let’s do it then,” he said, without meeting her eyes.

  What a contrast to Peter who wanted to run a mile at the sight of a wet diaper. And yet Peter wanted to be a father to Mitchell; Joe did not.

  She took Mitchell upstairs to change his diaper. When she came down, she found Joe had prepared toast and a beaker of milk. He was tapping the beaker on the benchtop. The milk was threatening to spill over but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “I’ll put Mitchell in his playpen and let him watch Sesame Street while he eats his toast,” she said, her words stilted.

  Mitchell was happily distracted. Allison turned back to Joe, dreading his harsh expression. Her mouth was dry and her stomach churned. The tension between them was palpable.

  “So what did Peter want?” Joe asked, an unfamiliar hard edge to his voice.

  “He wants to be a father to Mitchell.”

  “That’s what you want.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Yes. You know that.”

  Joe’s mouth was a grim line and a nerve flickered at the edge. “And what about you? Does he want you back, too?”

  Reluctantly, she nodded.

  “How can you look so cool about it?” Joe looked anything but cool.

  “Cool? I’m still in shock. I didn’t expect it.”

  “Didn’t you? Did he take you in his arms? Did he kiss you?”

  Before she realized his intent, Joe had pulled her to him. She resisted. She didn’t want this now. Not like this.

  Then his mouth came down on hers—hard and possessive and demanding. She couldn’t stop her response. Her nipples tingled and hardened and she longed to press her body wantonly against him.

  She fought her own desire; struggled from his grasp, her breath coming in short gasps, her heart pounding against her ribs.

  “Stop it! I don’t want you...touching me.”

  His eyes were dark with passion and something more, an anger that made her shiver at its intensity.

  “Since when?”

  She knew he was remembering last night, the hot kisses, the thrilling caresses, and the mind-blowing sex. Sex like she’d never before experienced.

  Her heart contracted with pain. “Since...since I decided Mitchell having a father is more important than anything else. Peter is his father. And—”

  “And?”

  “And I told Peter I...I’d think things over.”

  Joe’s eyes hardened.

  “Tell me that again?”

  She started to shake at the contempt in his voice. “I said, I—”

  “You’re going to consider going back to a man who abandoned you when you were pregnant with his baby? A jerk who has had nothing to do with you or his son?”

  She quailed at the force of Joe’s animosity.

  “I didn’t say I was going back to him—only that he asked me to consider it. I don’t love him. He didn’t kiss me. But Peter is Mitchell’s father. You know I’ll give him access to him. He wants to change. Said he’s made a mistake.”

  Surely Joe realized how desperately she wanted Mitchell to know his family, his roots. He had Bill and Nancy now, but grandparents had a different role to a father. And would Mitchell accept Peter while Joe was still part of his life? “Peter wants to be a father to Mitchell.”

  “What kind of a father do you think he’d make? Look at his track record.”

  Secretly, Allison agreed with him. Joe wasn’t the same type of man as her adoptive father—the care he showed Mitchell proved that. Joe would make a far better father to Mitchell than Peter would, in spite of the fact he’d had nothing to do with his conception. But Joe didn’t want to take on another man’s child. And Peter had said he would change. She had to think of what was best for Mitchell.

  “Peter says that’s in the past now. He’s a gambler but swears he’s got over that. He wants to spend time with Mitchell. He wants to try.”

  Shakily, she spoke those words out loud but inside she screamed: Tell me now you do, too, Joe. Tell me you love me and you love my baby. That you want to be a father to Mitchell. Please.

  But Joe just uttered an ugly expletive. “And you believed him?”

  “Peter is Mitchell’s flesh and blood.”

  “He doesn’t have the right—”

  “And you do? What gives you the right to criticize me? You’ve made your views on step-parenting clear.”

  Her voice broke and it was a struggle to keep it even. She still hadn’t had time to think about Peter’s proposition, to explore her own doubts. She didn’t want to be with Peter, but she might have to establish some kind of platonic relationship with him for Mitchell’s sake.

  But Joe didn’t have the right to try and force the issue. She’d had enough of men telling her what to do with her life. She wouldn’t put up with it from anyone again—even Joe.

  “Peter is Mitchell’s flesh and blood,” she repeated.

  “Who has never even held his child in his arms.” Joe’s mouth was a tight, bitter line. “What reason did he give for this sudden change of mind?”

  “That he’d been to Gamblers Anonymous. That he regretted the past.”

  “You’re so damn naive. Can’t you see the guy’s got some kind of ulterior motive?”

  Allison was stung. “Why should he have to? Is Mitchell so unappealing? Am I so unattractive? He says he’s made a mistake and—” She flushed with anger. “And why should I have to justify myself to you?”

  Joe’s eyes were as cold as a winter sea. “No reason at all.”

  Allison realized it would be no use explaining anything to him. He wasn’t going to say the words she ached to hear—that he loved her and he loved Mitchell.

 
She felt as desolate and alone as she’d ever felt in her life.

  Joe didn’t care.

  Joe fought the pain and betrayal searing his heart. He hadn’t slept at all, going over and over again the scene with Allison in the hospital. He’d finally decided she’d been upset and overwrought. That she might feel differently about breaking up if he told her how much she and Mitchell meant to him. Then he’d made plans for proposing to Allison, each option more romantic and memorable than the last.

  Finally the master plan had evolved and he’d got over here as fast as he could to set the wheels in motion.

  To find she was seeing her ex-husband.

  Like Deborah had.

  The old pain surged through the barriers he’d erected against it. He’d loved Deborah too, although that love seemed as nothing compared to what he felt for Allison. He’d loved Deborah and she hadn’t told him she was married but separated from her husband. A husband who was on the scene as soon as he’d discovered there was a rival.

  How could the same cruel lightning strike twice?

  That cold-eyed, cold-hearted bastard Peter obviously couldn’t bear to see Allison with another man. Last night she’d told him Peter had never seen her with anyone else since their breakup. He didn’t want her for himself, but he clearly didn’t want her to find happiness with someone else.

  And Allison had fallen for the story he’d spun her.

  Joe’s stomach churned. He swallowed hard against burning anger. He’d been so wrong about Allison.

  He’d thought maybe she had come to love him as he had her. He hadn’t even considered the possibility she’d say “no” to his proposal. What they had together was so extraordinary, so once-in-a-lifetime. All those feverishly imagined scenarios had never included anything like this.

  Allison’s eyes were clouded with a mix of defiance and—oddly—misery. She had never looked more beautiful or desirable; her hair a tangled mane, her breasts heaving under the fine knit of her cardigan.

  But, much as he desired her, sex was the last thing on his mind. He loved her. This went beyond desire. It meant total commitment and growing old together. She’d turned his life upside down. In those sleepless hours, he’d even started thinking about more children. Brothers and sisters for Mitchell.