by Becky Flade
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“And then, Gram, I threw up. Again.”
He enjoyed all the faces his grandmother made as he recalled the gruesome details of the last twenty-four hours from his throne on the loveseat. He felt better. She hadn’t been surprised to see her mother at the door bearing get well gifts and food. In fact, after she’d called home to let her parents know they wouldn’t be making the family dinner and why she’d expected the visit. Her mother doted. Thank God. She leaned back and took a bite of the fresh roast beef sandwich her mother provided.
“And Daddy stayed the night.”
Crap. This ought to be fun. She retreated to the kitchen and made a point of staying there while Brady continued regaling his grandmother with his digestive marvels. She didn’t have to wait long.
“Jayson stayed the night?”
“You find that more interesting than Brady calling him Daddy?” She shuffled food around in the refrigerator to make room for the supplies her mother had brought.
“Yes, I consider him staying the night more interesting. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Brady asked him to sleep over, and Jayson crashed on the couch. He left this morning. Truth be told, he didn’t look so great.”
“Do you think he picked up Brady’s stomach bug?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he just slept funky. He’s too tall to be sleeping on my couch.” And I tramped all over his feelings.
“Have you checked on him?”
“No. Why would I?”
“Cause he could be sick.” Her mom disapproved. “He’s alone over there. Maybe I should check on him.”
“Or maybe you should let his mother worry about him.” She knew her tone was snippy. And her mother would take issue with it. I don’t care. This is my house.
“What’s gotten into you?”
“Not a damn thing.” She slammed the refrigerator shut. “I’m sorry I gave you an attitude. Thanks for the food and for checking up on us. I appreciate it.”
“I don’t think so. What’s wrong? Did you and Jayson have an argument?”
“No, we didn’t have an argument.” She checked Brady and pitched her voice so he wouldn’t overhear. “I feel like I’m all alone in this thing. Everyone I care about takes his side over mine, even you and Daddy. I want this to be as easy a transition for my son as possible, so I have to smile and nod like I don’t mind. Like it’s not a big deal. But it is a big deal. It hurts.”
She slapped a hand to her chest. “I hurt. And all you’re worried about is Jayson.”
Her mother didn’t say a word. She opened her arms and Kylee sunk into the comfort of her mom’s softness. She sniffed back tears.
“I’m sorry. You’re such a strong, intelligent woman. You always have been. And I guess we take that for granted. I forget sometimes you need mothering too. You know we always have your back, don’t you?”
“I think I do.” Parkers were reliable, steady. If you needed one, you got them all. Ah, hell. “Can you sit with Brady?”
“Sure.” Her mom patted her on the bottom before stepping back. “Take him a bowl of soup. I brought more than you and the baby could possibly eat.”
* * *
Someone knocked. He heard it. He’d heard it two minutes ago and ignored it then. He ignored it now. Go away. Let me die alone, in peace. The front door opened. Take what you want. I don’t care. Just be quick and then go away.
“Jase?”
Kylee’s voice filled his home and his head. She started up the stairs. He didn’t have the energy to pull a blanket over his body. Oh well, she asked for it. Catching him in his skivvies was just payment for being nosey.
“What do you want?” He didn’t bother lifting his head from the pillow when she entered the room. She looked good. At that moment—maybe—he hated her. “Why aren’t you sick?”
“I wanted to see how you were doing. You looked a little rough when you left my place this morning. And I’m not sick because I had a flu shot.”
She pulled her cell from her back pocket. “Mom? Hi, yeah, he’s sick as a dog. No, I’ve got this if you can stay a bit longer? Thanks. Love you too.” She snapped it shut.
“I brought soup. Think you can keep it down?” she asked.
He groaned. The idea of eating made his stomach want to rebel. He didn’t want her here. He didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of her. He sure as hell didn’t want her to take care of him. “Go take care of sock guy.”
“That’s mature.” She grinned.
“You think this is funny? Of course, you do. I’m dying. Why wouldn’t you think it’s funny?”
“You’re not dying. Brady, our five-year-old, feels better already. I’m grinning because as sick as you may be, you’re still jealous. Where’s the medicine cabinet?”
He pointed toward the bathroom, and she disappeared into the hall. He was jealous. She’d seen it. Can’t even deny it. She returned and sat on the edge of his bed. He was painfully aware of the fact she was in his room, on his bed, and that he was nearly naked.
“Mouth or armpit?”
“Excuse me?”
“Where to you want the thermometer? It’s mercury. I suggest when you get a chance you buy one like I have, but this will do the trick. Where do you want it—mouth or armpit? Course there is a third option.”
“You’re enjoying this.”
“I am. And that makes me a horrible person, I know.” She dangled the thermometer before his eyes. “Where?”
He opened his mouth and lifted his tongue. She clucked, placed the tip under his tongue and tapped his chin. He closed down on the old-fashioned gauge and made a mental note to take her advice on the first-aid upgrade. She checked her watch and disappeared again. He could hear her rifling around downstairs. When she came back, she had a glass of something with her.
“Sports drink. Cut with water, it’ll help. Tastes like hell coming back up though. Sorry.” She checked her watch, nodded and took the thermometer from his mouth. “Yep. You have a fever, but not so bad you need a hospital. Take these pills. Drink all of that. And take a shower. If everything stays down, you should feel well enough after you bathe to eat. I’ll wait downstairs.”
“Aren’t you going to offer to help me shower?” He didn’t know why he pushed. She kept making herself clear. She wasn’t interested.
“See? Not dying. Take the medicine.”
He watched her walk away and when she was out of sight, pushed into a seated position. His head swam, and his pulse pounded at his temples. He did as instructed and staggered to the bathroom. A half an hour later and feeling much better, he found her sitting at his dining room table, eating a sandwich, and reading a book.
“That’s not the same trashy romance from six years ago is it?”
“Nope. It’s a new one.” She laid the book on the table. “You look better. Have a seat.”
She put a placemat in front of him, a napkin, utensils, and another glass of cut sports drink. Then set before him a bowl of steaming chicken noodle soup and crusty bread smeared with butter. She sat and went back to her book while he ate. Must remember to send flowers to Mrs. Parker. When he started on the bread, she put her book down.
“I want to apologize for the things I said last night. They were cruel, and I have no excuse.” She paused. “I poked around some. I like your place. Especially the room you’ve prepared for Brady. Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to start overnight visits?”
“Is that why you’re apologizing? So you can have nights off to get laid?” The thought of her using him to keep Brady out of the house, to make it easier for her to bring other men into her bed, tore him apart.
“I’m apologizing because I feel bad. I wanted to take it back as soon as the words came out of my mouth but I’m stubborn. You were right, okay? There had been a moment yesterday when I’d leaned in to kiss you. And I panicked. But it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Yes, it does.” He put down the bread he’d been holding. It meant
there was a chance. He had a chance to repair the damage he’d done; there was still a chance for them.
“No, it doesn’t. The focus has been on Brady and on you. No one realizes how hard this has been for me. I’ve been feeling alone and vulnerable. And almost slipped into old familiar patterns to feel better. That’s all it was.” She stood. “Neither of us can afford a misstep here because it will be Brady who pays the price.”
He watched her walk around the table. She leaned down and kissed his forehead, much as he’d seen her do with her brothers’ time and again. I don’t want to be treated like a brother.
“Feel better. Call if you need anything. And we’ll talk about setting up overnights, okay?”
He sat there long after she left, thinking about what she said. He took his empty dishes to the sink. Locked up and went to watch television in bed. He didn’t see what was on the screen. She was right about one thing—if either of them screwed up, Brady paid the price.
“Guess I’ll just have to make sure I don’t screw up,” he told the empty room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
He should’ve done this sooner, closer to when they’d had him over for dinner. The Parker’s deserved an explanation. They deserved an apology. He owed them so much and he’d repaid them by endangering, impregnating and then abandoning their oldest daughter. And he’d yet to offer them contrition.
“Are you going to stand there all afternoon scowling at my lawn mower?”
He didn’t know how long Mr. Parker watched him yearn for courage. He cleared his throat, shoved his hands in his pockets, and crossed the yard. Still don’t know what I’m going to say.
“I owe you an apology.” Well, that’s as good a start as any.
“Why? What exactly did you do to my lawn mower?”
He hadn’t expected to laugh. The levity eased some of his nerves.
“You don’t owe me an apology. What happened between you and my daughter was between you and Kylee.”
“I hurt her. I left Brady without a father.”
“You didn’t know.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“Why did you leave?” her father asked.
“Kylee didn’t tell you?”
“I’m asking you.”
“Threats were made against her person and her career.” He swallowed down the bitterness. “I thought it would be a few more weeks, a couple of months at most. Not another six years of my life. I thought she would forgive me.”
“Why didn’t you tell her the truth back then? You had to have known she would’ve died before breaking your cover.”
“I wanted to tell her every day. Almost did, so many times. But she got hurt, remember? I swore, no matter what, I would keep her safe. I wanted to keep her safe, even if it meant losing her forever.” He laughed. “I really hoped I wouldn’t lose her though.”
“If you had known about the pregnancy when those threats were levied, would you have stayed?”
“What?”
“If you had known about Brady when Chic threatened your family, would you have made a different choice?”
“I wouldn’t have left.”
“Even if it meant you were putting your son in danger?”
“I… I don’t know.” He hesitated. He wouldn’t have endangered the baby. If he had told her the truth, would she have understood? She would’ve. Would she have waited for me? She may have. These questions would weigh on him.
“I’m not saying you did the right thing. But what you did, you did for the right reasons. What do you think it is you need from me?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t expecting this. Thought you’d be angry. I was prepared for angry. I’m kind of at a loss.”
“Let me ask you something. And feel free to tell me this is none of my business.” Mr. Parker put his hands in his lap. “What do you want from my daughter?”
“What I can’t have. But I’ll settle for her friendship and her forgiveness.”
“I know my girl. She’ll do her best on both counts if for no other reason than for Brady’s sake. It could be a long, hard road though. You don’t know what your leaving did to her.”
“Would you tell me?”
“I kept your confidences. Don’t ask me to break hers. I don’t think my girl feels as though she can turn to us like she used to and I’m not about to prove her right.”
I hadn’t realized her relationship with her parents had been affected. I should have, damn it, so much damage. Chic Checcio and Frank Stedman—the gifts that keep on giving.
“It’s after two, right? I promised Mary I wouldn’t drink before two in the afternoon.”
He looked at his watch. “It’s not quite one thirty yet.”
“Close enough. I want a beer. Damn kids driving me to drink. Let’s go. If she catches me, I’m less likely to get yelled at if you’re having one too.”
He smiled as he thought about how times had changed from the first time he sat in this kitchen. Then he thought about the things that hadn’t and his smile faded.
“Still thinking about that lawn mower, huh?” Mr. Parker handed him a can of beer. “I don’t know how you survived so many years undercover. Your face is like a billboard.”
“Not everybody knows me as well as you. And I’ve never felt it necessary to hide behind masks with you. You know the very best and the very worst of me. And you never judged.”
“Checcio getting locked up was all over the news. What’s next for you?”
“I was promoted, given a desk assignment, a commendation, a tidy little raise, and a small unit of agents to run. Not that any of that matters since I belted my superior and quit the day I met Brady.”
“I don’t think that was the wisest career move.”
“It did satisfy. Until I figure out my next step, I’m bartending at Devane’s. I’ve got money in savings. I won’t starve.”
“What happened to all the money Checcio paid you?”
“I wasn’t allowed to keep any of it. I lived off my DEA paycheck just like every other cop.”
“Well, that sucks.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Devane’s was a popular spot on the weekends. She was happy for her friends’ success, but it also meant on a Friday or Saturday night the place was packed. “If you aren’t there to party, don’t bother coming in” was what Tim liked to tell people about weekends at his place. Good thing she wanted to party.
“Let me buy you another shot,” Ed offered.
“Tequila, please.”
“I think the lady has had enough.”
Are you kidding me? What the hell is Jayson doing here?
“Why are you on that side of the bar?”
She caught Ed’s amused perusal. This will be all over the office on Monday.
“Working. I work here.”
That little bit of news had deliberately been kept a secret. From her. “I haven’t reached my limit, and I’m not driving. Please bring me one shot of tequila.”
“Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
“This is one of your bartenders for the evening.” She smiled to Ed before turning back to Jayson. “This is one of your customers.”
She caught Tim’s eye and stared hard. He began moving their way, but was stopped to pull beers and taking orders. It was a busy night. Jayson put his hand out over the bar, leaving Ed no choice but to shake his hand.
“I’m Brady’s father. Her son’s father. You know she has a son, right?”
Ed threw back his head and roared.
“Tim! Get him out of my face. Now!”
Tim appeared and hustled Jayson out of the way.
“Don’t ask.”
Ed laughed again. “Oh, darling, how can I not?”
“Cause I asked?” She downed a shot. “It’s a long, depressing story, and I don’t want to get into it.”
“Can I guess?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You used to hang out at a different bar, got roaring drunk on tequila and banged the sexy bartender
, what did you call him, Jase? Ended up pregnant by an unsuitable suitor you never mention. You switched bars, but he’s found you.”
She laughed. “You watch too many reruns of Sex in the City.”
He took a pull from his imported beer. “Yes, I’m wrong, I see that now. Based on the way he’s staring at me like I’m going to get shivved or worse, he works for a foreign government, and you met while vacationing abroad. He left you with secret missile codes and a bun in the oven.”
“Why are you a lawyer with an imagination like that?” She smiled and hooked the neck of her Corona.
“I’m only kind of kidding. The looks he’s throwing this way? I’m a little afraid to go the men’s room.”
She looked. Jayson stared in a threatening manner. Things had been pleasant between them, friendly even since he’d been sick and they’d talked. He’d started taking Brady overnight. She’d thought he’d understood. She’d assumed he’d agreed with her. But the way he acted like he was marking territory, suggested otherwise.
“Ignore him.”
“Should we make it worse, love?” He leaned in as though he intended to kiss her neck. “I can work him into a jealous lather.”
“I doubt that would be a good idea.” She put her hand on his chest and gave him a gentle push. “I don’t think you’d enjoy getting slugged by him. And I know Jake won’t appreciate it.”
“You don’t know. Jake might find that stimulating.” He raised a provocative eyebrow at Jayson before taking another pull at his beer.
She laughed until her sides hurt.
“You’ll never make him jealous now.” She wiggled off her stool. “I’ll be back. I’ve got to use the ladies.”
As she left the restroom, a familiar form pushed her back into a dark corner. Jayson’s hands spread on the wall beside her head. His body skimmed hers as he caged her against the wall. He wasn’t quite touching her. Why does it feel like he is? Why am I excited?