“We’re on the clock, pay attention,” he said as he moved inside her.
She pushed her thoughts away and followed instructions. Within a handful of minutes she was clutching at his back, his shoulders as he drove into her. Rippling pleasure washed through her and her body clenched his as she climaxed.
“Hannah,” he whispered, then he came, too, his cheek pressed against hers as his body tensed and shuddered.
He pressed a kiss to her jaw afterward, one hand curled possessively over her breast.
She traced the arch of his right eyebrow with her fingertip then repeated the gesture with the left.
“I love your eyes,” she said, mostly to stop herself from saying something else.
He smiled. Then he tensed as he caught sight of the clock on the DVD player.
“Shit. I’m going to be late,” he said. He rolled off the couch and onto the floor.
Hannah laughed as she helped him round up his underwear and shoes, buckling his belt for him as he pulled on his shirt. He left her to lock up the house, kissing her one last time before bolting for his car. She finished dressing and was about to head out the door when she paused.
It was the first time she’d been alone in Joe’s house. Feeling somewhat guilty, she crossed to the family portrait propped on a shelf near the TV.
She’d never had a really good look at Beth before. She’d passed the portrait a dozen times but never lingered, for obvious reasons. Now she picked up the frame and studied the photograph. It was an informal shot. The family was gathered on a picnic blanket, the kids sprawled like puppies at their parents’ feet, Beth leaning back against a smiling Joe. Joe’s wife was small and blonde, with wide blue eyes. She wore a white dress with little yellow flowers on it, and a pair of high-heeled yellow espadrilles had been kicked off to one side. She was beautiful in a fragile, feminine way.
Utterly different from Hannah. She stared at the photograph, trying to understand if what she was feeling was envy or jealousy or something else altogether.
It must be every woman’s nightmare not to live to see her children into adulthood. The thought of not being there to guide them through crises, to kiss things better or deliver a serve of tough love…
Looking into the other woman’s smiling face, Hannah decided that she felt sad for Beth Lawson, nothing else. She’d had a life, a family, a good marriage. She’d loved and been loved. And it had all been taken away in a split second.
If it was me, I’d want Joe to be happy. I’d want him to find someone else to love, for someone else to love my children.
Hannah placed the frame back on the shelf.
Making peace with Beth had given Hannah new clarity. She loved Joe, and she fell more and more in love with his children every day. Ben could ignore her all he liked, but he couldn’t stop her seeing his little-boy’s heart or understanding he was hurting. She could wait him out. He needed her. They all did, just as she needed them. At the end of the day, that was what family was about, right?
I want this. I want them.
It was that simple. Now all she had to do was win Joe’s son’s trust and hope that Joe could find the courage to love another woman the way he’d loved his wife.
Small potatoes, right?
OVER THE NEXT WEEK, Joe swung between two states—stupid, bemused happiness and deeply frustrated sadness.
It seemed crazy to him that both states could coexist, but it was the reality of his life. When he and Hannah were alone, he felt invincible. She was sexy, strong, gutsy, smart—she made him feel seventeen again, the way he couldn’t stop thinking about her. If he wasn’t careful, one day soon he’d come out of a daze and find he’d etched her name in his desk at the pub. He was that obsessed, that involved.
Then there was Ben. Angry, silent, rude. And that was on a good day. It had been three weeks since Hannah had returned and he’d told the kids they were dating. Ruby was as happy as a clam. Each night she trekked next door to help Hannah with the Thunderbird. Sometimes he joined them, sometimes he didn’t. Ben never did. He’d taken to spending time in his room, except when Joe forced him to join them at the dinner table. He’d also had to intervene in more than one row between Ben and his sister, Ben’s anger spilling over into other aspects of his life. Joe was waiting for the inevitable phone call from school to tell him Ben had been in a fight—it seemed a logical extension of his son’s behavior.
The worst thing was that Joe felt so powerless. He’d tried patience. He’d tried communication. He’d tried bribery, to his shame. Nothing got through to his sullen son. Ben had effectively withdrawn from the family.
Every time Ben turned his back on Hannah or glared at her or avoided spending time with them as a group, Joe remembered his mother’s words. You’re asking her to take on an awful lot, stepping into a ready-made family. Even though his gut told him Hannah would stay, that she would never have entered their lives if she hadn’t intended to go the distance, a part of him was afraid that he would lose her just as he was beginning to understand how bloody lucky he was.
The tension within him came to a head when Hannah was over for dinner Tuesday night. Ben opened the door to her knock and walked away without acknowledging her at all.
“Ben!” Joe said sharply, but his son just kept walking up the hallway.
Joe took one look at Hannah’s dismayed face and his temper flared.
“That’s it. I’ve had enough.” He moved toward the hallway, but Hannah caught his arm.
“Wait five minutes before you go after him and say something you might regret.”
“Something has to give,” he said. She might not want to acknowledge it, but Ben’s attitude was getting worse, not better. He was becoming openly, aggressively rude, something Joe would not tolerate. Ben didn’t have to like what was happening between Joe and Hannah, but he had to respect his father’s decision, and he needed to respect Hannah.
“I know. But two angry Lawson men aren’t going to get us anywhere.”
She was right. He knew she was right. “Okay. I’m counting to a hundred.”
“Make it two hundred,” she said.
Which made him laugh. She always knew how to get to him.
Before he could stop himself, he reached out and tugged her close, kissing her briefly on the lips. She kissed him back and he had to remind himself his children were in the house. Sure enough, when they pulled back he became aware of Ruby standing in the kitchen doorway, a drink in her hand. They’d been very circumspect with physical stuff to date, hand-holding being the limit of their displays of affection in front of the children. Ruby’s eyes were wide, as though she’d just spotted a real-life fairy, or some other mystical creature at the bottom of the garden.
Hannah cleared her throat, her cheeks a little pink. “Um, hi, Ruby.”
“When are you going to stay the night?” Ruby asked, her small face avid.
Hannah made a choking noise.
“Ruby,” Joe said, amused despite himself. She was incorrigible—and he much preferred her this way to the nervous, anxious little girl she’d been when they first moved from Sydney.
“I’m only asking what everyone else is thinking,” Ruby said matter-of-factly.
“Everyone? Who’s everyone?” Joe asked. Too late he realized he’d been foolish to buy into the discussion.
“Grandma, and Aunty Robyn next door.”
“Not quite everyone,” he said.
“Close enough,” Hannah murmured.
“Staying the night isn’t something people should rush into,” Joe said.
“Why not? I thought you liked each other. It would be cool to have Hannah here for breakfast,” Ruby said.
There was a sound from the hallway and Joe swung around to see his son standing in the living room doorway, his angry gaze fixed on Ruby.
“What is wrong with you?” Ben snarled. “Why are you trying so hard to replace Mom?”
Hannah visibly flinched and Ruby went pale as she stared at her brother.
/> “I’m not. I’m not trying to replace Mommy,” she said. She looked to Joe, stricken.
“Yes, you are. Wanting Hannah to be in that mother-daughter thing with you, always sucking up to her and trying to get Dad to like her more. What do you think Mom would say if she could see you?”
Ben was white with anger, his hands curled into fists by his sides.
“Mate,” Joe said, stepping forward.
Ben swung toward him. “You’re just as bad. Don’t you care that she’s not here? Don’t you even think about her anymore?”
“Of course I do, we all do—”
“No, you don’t. You just want to do it with Hannah all the time and forget about everything else. You don’t even care that she’s dead.”
“You know better than to talk like that,” Joe said.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you do when Ruby and I go to school.” Ben’s face was red and he was shaking, but he didn’t take his fierce gaze from Joe’s.
Hannah stepped forward. “Ben, the last thing I want to do is try to take your mom’s place. My dad left when I was about Ruby’s age, and I know it’s not the same as dying, but I missed him like crazy.”
Ben refused to even look at her, keeping his gaze fixed on his father.
“I don’t want to try and take away your memories of your mom or replace her or anything like that, I promise,” Hannah said. “I just like spending time with you and your dad and Ruby.”
Joe watched carefully, trying to read his son’s response, not sure if he should intervene or not.
“You want more than that,” Ben said. “I’m not stupid.”
Hannah held up her fingers in a classic Scout’s pledge. “I swear, I just want to hang with you guys. No agenda. I like you. Where else am I going to get such cheap labor for the Thunderbird?”
Ben shot her a confused look. Hannah took another step forward and reached out to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Couldn’t we at least try to be friends?” she asked.
Ben looked at her, and for a moment Joe caught a glimpse of something desperate and needy in his son’s face. Then Ben scowled and shrugged his shoulder, roughly brushing Hannah’s hand away. “I told you, you’re never going to be my mom.”
Ruby was across the room in a flash, throwing herself between Ben and Hannah, reaching out to push her brother away.
“Stop it! You’re going to ruin everything! You’re going to make Hannah hate us and then she’ll go away and we’ll never see her again.”
“You’re a traitor,” Ben yelled. “A stinking traitor.” He shoved Ruby with all his might. She staggered backward, wildly off balance, then fell awkwardly onto her outstretched left arm.
Her wail of pain made the hairs on the back of Joe’s neck stand on end. He was at her side in seconds, cradling her as she hugged her arm to her chest.
“It hurts. It hurts so much,” she sobbed.
Grim, he gently tested her wrist joint. Ruby yelped with pain.
“I think it’s broken,” he said.
Ben stood frozen, so pale Joe thought he was going to pass out. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it.” Ben bolted for the door.
“Ben!” Joe bellowed. It was dark outside and the last thing he needed was to have to chase Ben down when they had to get Ruby to the hospital.
But Ben was gone, the door banging loudly behind him.
“I’ll go after him,” Hannah said. “You need to get Ruby to a doctor.”
He nodded briefly, giving Ruby a reassuring squeeze. Hannah headed for the door, her stride long, and he gave his daughter all his attention.
“Daddy’s just going to go grab a bag of peas from the freezer for you, sweetheart. It’ll make the pain a bit better. You keep your arm still and don’t move.”
By the time he had Ruby in the car and ready to go, Hannah had returned.
“No sign of him. I’m sorry, I have no idea how he disappeared so quickly,” she said helplessly.
He stared out into the night. He hated the thought of Ben roaming the streets, upset and alone, but there wasn’t much he could do about it right now. He couldn’t be in two places at once.
“I need to go,” he said.
“I’ll find him,” Hannah promised.
He looked at her, remembering his mother’s warning that once the novelty had worn off and the going had gotten tough, Hannah might want to opt out. He figured tonight definitely qualified under the tough category, but she showed no signs of flinching.
“Thank you,” he said.
She simply shook her head. “You don’t have to thank me.”
He could see what she wasn’t saying in her eyes and even though he had a million worries pressing down on him, he couldn’t stop the words from rising up inside him.
“Love you,” he said, stepping close to press a quick kiss to her lips before turning to slide into the driver’s seat.
She looked flustered for a moment, then her mouth lifted at the corner. “Nice timing.”
“Figured I’d better get in while the getting was good.”
She looked as though she wanted to say more, but she pushed his car door closed. “Call me from the hospital, let me know how Ruby is.”
“I will.”
She stepped back from the car as he reversed into the street. The last thing he saw was her standing in his driveway, arms crossed over her chest, her stance strong and sure.
LOVE YOU.
Joe’s words echoed in Hannah’s head as she walked the streets of Elsternwick, eyes peeled for a slim thirteen-year-old boy in baggy jeans and a white T-shirt.
How typical of Joe to blurt it out like that. She’d been biting her tongue for days, waiting for the right moment to declare herself, and he’d just thrown his own declaration at her as casually as goodbye or hello or have a nice day.
Okay, it hadn’t been that casual. But he’d definitely caught her by surprise. And she’d been very aware of Ruby in the backseat, her face creased with pain. Hardly the moment to tell him the feeling was mutual and that she adored him, body and soul.
She checked her watch. She’d been searching for nearly forty minutes now. She’d checked the school, The Watering Hole and the local shops. She’d run out of obvious options, so it was time to start thinking not so obviously. There always seemed to be a bunch of kids hanging out at the twenty-four-hour convenience store near the highway. Maybe Ben had taken refuge with them. And it might be worth checking in with the Balases. Ben had formed an attachment with the Indian shop owner over the past few months.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Joe’s name was illuminated on her screen.
“How is she?” she asked as she took the call.
“Broken scaphoid bone in her wrist. When she fell on her arm like that I was pretty sure that’d be the case. Seen it a few times out on the rigs.”
“But she’s okay?”
“She’s fine. Getting a cast put on as we speak, lapping up the attention and the lollipops.”
“I was about to check out that twenty-four-hour place over near the highway,” she reported. “He’s not at the school or the shops or the pub.”
“All right. I’ll come join you once I’ve got Ruby home.”
“Mom’s there to look after her.”
“Good, that’ll save me calling my mom.”
Might as well say what they were both thinking.
“If we don’t find him soon, we should probably think about calling the police,” she said.
“Yeah, I know.” His voice was heavy with worry.
They agreed to touch base again once he was close to home, then Hannah ended the call. She got her bearings and struck out in the direction of the highway. She was passing the local playground, the equipment reduced to vague shapes in the darkness, when she caught a flash of something out of the corner of her eye. She stopped in her tracks. Ben had been wearing a white T-shirt. Was that what she’d seen in her peripheral vision?
She peered into the park. Slowly
the vague shapes took form: a swing set, a slide, monkey bars, a flying fox.
“Ben? Are you there?” she called.
She held her breath, waiting. Nothing but silence greeted her. She walked farther into the park and saw there was a log bridge situated beyond the swing, the kind made from two mounds of earth placed on either side of a large section of concrete pipe with a bridge built over the top.
Her heart gave a huge, painful thump of relief when she saw a pale shape huddled in the darkness inside the big pipe.
Ben. It had to be.
She ran the few steps to the bridge and dropped to her knees.
“Ben. Thank God. Are you okay?”
As she’d half expected, he flinched away from her. “Go away.”
“I can’t do that, I’m sorry. Your dad’s worried sick about you.”
Silence from the pipe. She could barely see the pale oval of Ben’s face.
“Ben, why don’t you come out and we can go home and talk? No one’s angry with you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Ben hiccuped softly, and Hannah realized he was crying. Had been crying for a while, judging from the hiccups.
“Ben, it’s okay,” she said.
She crawled a few feet inside the pipe so that she was sitting next to him. She wanted to put her arm around him very badly but doubted he’d tolerate it.
“Are you worried about Ruby? Is that it? Because I just spoke to your dad and he said she was going to be fine.”
Ben’s sobbing increased.
“Come on, let’s go home,” she said again. “Don’t you want to go home?”
He was crying so hard she almost didn’t hear what he said.
“Can’t.”
“Why can’t you come home, Ben?” She felt woefully out of her depth, but Ben was so miserable she had to try.
His voice was broken and small and Hannah had to strain to hear his reply. “Because it’s my fault. They’ll all hate me once they know.”
She frowned. She might be inexperienced with kids, but her gut was telling her that there was a whole lot more going on here than reaction to the incident at the house.
Home for the Holidays Page 17