And suddenly, Robbie wanted to be as far away from Con as the seat would allow. He’d hurt her for the last time.
If it hadn’t been for Joey, she’d have walked out of that courtroom and just kept going. But she couldn’t walk out on Joey. Even with her heart burning up with jealousy, she couldn’t walk away.
Ms. Barnhardt’s state-appointed lawyer showed pictures of the trailer where she lived. The judge declared it clean and rather sweet, but apparently it had no provisions for the baby.
“I just don’t have the money for those yet,” Cecily explained, and then looked straight at Con.
“Please, Mr. Randolph, I know you’re a really nice man, buying me that hamburger and all and letting me sit with you so’s I didn’t have to be all alone in my trailer, even with you being so upset about that poor woman who died. You’ll take care of me and my baby, won’t you? Tell them you will, Mr. Randolph.” Cecily’s big eyes filled with tears. “Please?”
Con looked away.
“Tell us, Ms. Barnhardt,” the judge said, clearing his throat, “exactly what did Mr. Randolph say when you told him about the baby?”
Cecily blinked. “Oh, I never told Mr. Randolph about Joey.”
“But we have it on record that you said the baby’s father refused support,” the judge said, reading from the file in front of him.
“But that wasn’t Mr. Randolph,” Cecily said innocently. “That was Joe. We were s’posed to get married. Ever since I was fifteen. He was s’posed to be little Joey’s daddy.”
Con sat up straighter, watching the woman intently. Robbie watched, too, listening, taut with tension, and caring far more than she wished she did.
“But you named Mr. Randolph as the father on the birth certificate.”
Cecily shrugged one slender shoulder. “Well, I had to. You can’t tell lies in writing, you know.”
Robbie felt more than heard Con sigh. His hand slid over her knee, searching for and finding hers. She didn’t want his touch, didn’t want it to mean any-thing, but that didn’t stop her fingers from curling around his.
He continued to hold her hand while Betty Williams gave her testimony, stating that Joey had obviously had excellent care each time Robbie and Con had kept him. She mentioned the new clothes and toys Joey had come home with, said that Robbie and Con had left their phone number in case an emergency arose. She even told the judge how Joey had reached for Con the last time he’d gone to collect him.
And then it was Robbie’s turn to take the stand. She forgot Con. Forgot the mess they’d made of their lives as she fought for custody of the child who’d stolen her heart. Because whether Con wanted her or not was immaterial. In her heart of hearts, she truly believed that Joey would never have a better life than the one Con could give him.
Twenty minutes later, after listening to lawyers from all sides, the judge said he’d reached a decision. He asked them all to stand.
Con held tightly to Robbie’s hand, telling her with-out the words he could never say how much the next moments meant to him. She squeezed his hand in return. Nothing mattered but the little boy whose entire future rested on the decision of one old man. Not her pain. Not Con’s inability to love her.
“As Mr. Randolph so fluently pointed out, a child’s biological parent can be an incredible asset to that child’s emotional well-being. Which is why we hesitate to ever take a child from his mother’s care if there’s any hope that the child will find a loving home with her.”
Robbie’s heart sank as the judge paused. He looked at all three of them, his gaze serious.
“I feel that it is in Joey’s best interests to give his mother, Cecily Barnhardt, six months to provide an acceptable home for her son.”
No!
Con’s grip crushed Robbie’s fingers, but the tears that sprang to her eyes weren’t from the physical pain.
“In the meantime,” the judge continued, “I am placing the boy in the care of his father and step-mother with final custody to be determined six months from today.”
Great sobs of relief racked Robbie’s body as she threw herself into Con’s waiting arms. He crushed her to him, lifting her right off the floor with the force of his embrace.
“Thank you,” he said for her ears alone.
“You’re welcome.” And he was. Welcome in her life and in a secret part of her heart. Because in spite of the pain he’d caused her, the pain she feared he had yet to cause her, she was going to honor her wedding vows. She’d been standing by Con most of her life. She couldn’t walk out on him now.
They had a son to raise.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BETTY WILLIAMS asked for a couple of hours for her family to say goodbye to Joey. The judge deferred her to Con.
He nodded his assent, partly because it felt so damn good to have the right to make the decision, but it still took everything he had to grant the request. He wanted his son at home. Now.
The future no longer seemed like a black hole. It suddenly had substance, a name. It had purpose.
And endless questions.
There were reams of papers to sign, details to go over. How soon could he have Joey added to his insurance? How often would they be bothered with visits from social services? Could they take him out of the state?
“He’s really ours,” Robbie whispered.
Warmth flooded Con, surprising him, almost scaring him for the brief second it took him to regain control. The same thing had happened to him in the courtroom moments ago, when the judge had told him he could have his son. But the feeling was just an aberration. A reaction to the changes that were taking place so rapidly in his life, which had been predictably the same for years. He wasn’t falling back into that old trap again. He wouldn’t start hoping. He couldn’t. He was no longer capable.
Was he?
They still had an hour to kill after their business at the courthouse was finished. Con waited while Robbie went to a pay phone in the hall to give her parents a call and tell them the good news, and then walked with her out to his car.
She had something on her mind. He could tell by her sudden silence. He couldn’t blame her if, now that it was over, she wanted out. Being a mother to Joey was hardly compensation enough for putting up with him. For withstanding a loveless marriage. He knew that.
Especially after he’d crossed that unforgivable line and used her body just for physical satisfaction. He’d known since he walked out of his bedroom the other night that it had only been a matter of time till she left him.
So why in hell did he still want to believe they could work something out?
“Where to?” he asked as they drove out of the parking lot. They didn’t have time to make it home and all the way back to Gilbert in an hour.
“Someplace we can talk.” Her softness was gone.
He glanced over at her, hoping to gauge where he stood, but she stared steadfastly out the windshield.
Without another word he pulled out into the traffic. A pack of cigarettes lay open on the console between them. Open, but untouched.
Con knew the city as well as he knew the lines on his face, and twenty minutes later they were parked out in the desert on a secluded dirt track, not ten minutes from the Williamses’ home.
If Robbie wanted out of their marriage, he had to let her go. Somehow. Hell, he should probably make her leave even if by some miracle she didn’t want to.
He left the engine running, allowing the air conditioner to continue cooling the interior of the car. The scenery was barren, just brown flat land as far as the eye could see, with an occasional cactus or sagebrush. He wondered if this view of the desert Robbie had always loved was a portent of their future. Barren.
He reached for the pack of cigarettes, then threw it down again, thrumming his fingers against the steering wheel, instead. He wasn’t going to smell like smoke when he picked up his son. But would he be picking him up with Robbie at his side?
He waited as long as he could, until his chest grew tight wi
th the dread of what was coming. “So talk." His words finally cut the silence.
“Why didn’t you tell me about her?” Robbie’s voice was filled with accusation. And hurt.
Disconcerted, Con looked away. He’d actually forgotten about Cecily. About what Robbie must be thinking of him now that she’d come face-to-face with the side of him she’d always refused to see. He’d been too busy thinking about Joey. And about sex with Robbie.
So how did he explain why he’d kept silent when he didn’t even understand why himself? Robbie had always been the only thing good and pure in his life. Cecily was the embodiment of everything else. Somehow he’d understood that it would all be over when the two met.
“You knew about her, didn’t you?” she asked, her voice resigned, but bitter, too.
He nodded. And then added, “Not that she was going to be there today, though.” As if that made any difference. He’d disappointed Robbie, hurt her. She was disgusted with the man he was. The type of man who would bed a total stranger and not remember it in the morning. Seeing Cecily had finally opened Robbie’s eyes.
“But you knew she wanted Joey back?”
He nodded again, still thrumming, still not looking at her.
“Out of curiosity, were you ever going to tell me?”
“Of course!” he said, surprised into looking at her. Didn’t she know he discussed everything with her? That he always had? Eventually. “If it became necessary.”
“Necessary? Today it wasn’t necessary for me to know that I was going to be seeing the woman you impregnated? That I wouldn’t care? That it wouldn’t faze me a bit?”
If she was trying to make him hate himself even more, she’d succeeded. “I’m sorry,” he said. He didn’t know what else to say. He’d been telling her all her life what a jerk he was.
His gut clenched when he saw the tears in her eyes. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Robbie cry. And all of them because of him.
“You know, I believe you. You are sorry,” she said softly, sadly. “But sorry isn’t enough, Con. I had a right to know.”
“Of course you did.”
“So why didn’t you tell me?” The anguish in her words confused him.
“Is that really what this is all about? Because I didn’t tell you about her?” he asked.
“Yes!”
The relief he felt loosened his tongue. Maybe this time he could take away some of the pain he’d caused.
“I hoped she’d go away. That you’d never have to find out she’d appeared,” he said, only just now realizing that that was what he’d been doing. Hoping. Even though he’d given up hoping years ago.
“You still should have told me, Con. I’m supposed to be your wife. Your partner in this thing. I should have been better prepared.” Her tears continued to roll down her cheeks. There was so much pain. In her. In him.
Con pushed the console up and pulled her across the seat into his arms.
“I’m sorry, Rob.” He wiped awkwardly at her tears with his thumb. “The time just never seemed right. The words wouldn’t come.”
She sat silently beside him, not pulling away, but not settling into his embrace, either. She needed more.
“I’m not proud of that night I spent with Cecily,” Con said slowly. “Not eager for you to think less of me because of it,” he finally admitted. To her. To himself.
She sank against him, turning to gaze up at him. “You sure you weren’t just pushing me out of your life like you have everyone else you’ve ever known?”
“Hell, no!” He reeled back, shocked. “I can’t imagine life without you in it, nagging me to death." He breathed a little easier when he saw a weak smile cross her lips. “And I don’t push everyone else away, either,” he felt compelled to add. “They leave of their own accord.”
“Bullshit.”
Feeling as though he’d just made it through a minefield, he wasn’t up for a battle. “Was that it? The talk you wanted?” he asked.
“No.”
She sat up, surprising him again. There was more?
“I didn’t mean to bring her up at all,” she admitted sheepishly. “She just slipped out.”
He frowned. “What, then?”
“I want your word that we’re in this for the long haul—you, me and Joey. I love him already, Con. I don’t want to lose him.”
He was right back in the middle of the damn minefield, after all. “As far as I’m concerned you’ll always be his mother, no matter what happens between us,” he said. Because it was only a matter of time before something did.
“I want your word, Randolph.”
He turned away from her and looked out his side window. “I can’t give it to you.”
“Why?” The one word exploded into the car.
He looked back at her, his gaze impossible to mis-interpret. “I think you know why,” he said, looking her body up and down. He’d used her. Every inch of her. The memory of it drove him crazy in the dark hours of night. He hated himself for it. And for wanting to use her again.
“Because of the sex,” she said bluntly. That was Robbie. Get the whole mess right out there on the table.
He nodded, still watching her.
“What about it?” she asked. He knew she was trying for nonchalance, but he heard the tiny catch in her throat.
“I still want it.”
“Like it was last time?” Her gaze skittered away from him and then back.
“With me that’s the only way there is.” He couldn’t lie to her. He’d never lied to her.
“It was horrible for me when you walked out of the room. You know that, don’t you?”
His chest tightened as he saw the shadows in her eyes, but she had to know. When words wouldn’t come, he nodded.
“Are you going to force me?” she asked, sounding belligerent now.
“No.” Forcing a woman to have sex was one of the few things he’d never done. Besides, with Robbie he wasn’t sure he’d have to. He wasn’t the only one who’d responded that night.
“Then we’ve got nothing to worry about, because I didn’t much like your performance, Randolph. At least not there at the end.” Her eyes welled up with more tears. “I’ve felt like many things in my time, but I’ve never felt like a whore before. It’s not an experience I care to repeat.”
Her words were like a slap in the face, one he knew he deserved.
“Trust me,” she said, her voice filled with disgust. “It won’t be happening again.”
CON TOOK A LEAVE of absence from work for the rest of the month, and since Robbie hadn’t taken time off for a honeymoon, she also stayed home that first week. Neither wanted to leave Joey with a sitter; neither wanted to leave Joey at all. They were natural parents, welcoming the change in their lives, adjusting to the sudden absence of freedom with very little effort. Joey was a godsend. He provided a dimension both of them had needed in their lives.
Con offered to make a grocery run Tuesday afternoon while Joey was napping. They were going through diapers more rapidly than either of them had anticipated, and running low on formula, too. But Robbie was well aware of his ulterior motive. He needed a cigarette. During the hour he was away, she was envious of the smoking he must be doing.
She heard him pull into the garage and met him at the kitchen door, ready to tease him.
“I left one lit in the car ashtray. I’ll deal with the groceries,” he said before she could get in a shot.
Robbie was out in the garage and in the front seat of his car in a flash. He hadn’t left one lit. He’d lit a fresh one. She had an entire cigarette to savor.
How was she ever going to fall out of love with Con when he was so damn nice to her?
He had everything put away by the time she was back in the house, except for a package on the counter. She picked it up.
“What’s this?” she asked.
He turned from the cupboard where they now stored Joey’s bottles. “Nicotine patches. I figured they could
n’t hurt,” he said a trifle sheepishly.
She set the box down. “No. You’re right. They’ll probably make quitting a little easier on you.”
His mouth quirked in that endearing half grin. “There’s some there for you, too.”
IT SEEMED there was plenty of everything for every-body as long as Robbie didn’t ask for Con’s love. As unconventional as their lives were, she was almost able to convince herself they were going to be just fine, the three of them. A happy little family.
Almost.
On Thursday afternoon she followed Joey, who the day before had discovered he could actually go places when he scooted on his belly, into Con’s bedroom. It was just as Con came walking out of his adjoining bathroom, a towel around his neck.
He stopped, stark naked, and stared at her.
Heart beating an erratic tempo, she automatically sought the part of him she had no business looking at. She swallowed. The man was male perfection.
He didn’t cover himself immediately. Not when he caught her gazing at him. Not even when his body started to react.
“Why didn’t you shut your door?” she snapped. Damn. With one look she was on fire for him, weak with need, filled with desire.
He still stood there, staring right back at her. Then Joey scooted into his line of vision and he strode over to his dresser to pull a pair of briefs from a drawer.
He had the best ass she’d ever seen.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” he said.
Dry-mouthed, Robbie couldn’t move, feeling more like an awkward schoolgirl than a mature woman. “Joey was exploring,” she mumbled.
“I’ll close my door in the future.” Con’s words were weary as he disappeared back into his bathroom.
Robbie grabbed the baby and ran.
Much of the week was fraught with tension. The tension of unrequited love, of unfulfilled desire, of dying hopes and harsh realities. Robbie loved Con. He wanted her. But he was never going to love her back.
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