A Dad for Billie

by Susan Mallery

  Still holding her arms up against the pillow, he plundered her mouth. When her tongue chased his back into his mouth, he gently bit on the pointed tip. At her gasp, he sucked on her lower lip. She grew limp. He pressed his leg against her secrets and felt her ready moistness.

  Before he reached for his own clothing and removed it, he took her twice up to the edge of passion and caught her as she fell. Only when she had cried out his name over and over again did he allow himself to be buried in her waiting warmth. And not until her third release rippled around him did he give in to the need that pulsed within him. With heavy-lidded eyes and a satisfied smile, she moved her hips in a way designed to reduce his control to ashes. As the fire consumed him, as he reached the pinnacle and prepared himself for his own flight, he wondered if he’d indeed won.

  *

  “I’ll have to leave more often,” Jane said as she settled back against the pillows. “I like how you welcome me home.”

  Adam didn’t respond, he just continued to hold her close and pray for a miracle.

  “Why now?” she asked.

  “Why not?” It was avoiding the question and the truth, but what else could he do?

  “I wasn’t sure.” She snuggled closer to him. Her hair fanned out over his chest. One of her legs rode up against his and her arms held him tight. “After the last time. You never said anything about doing it again.”

  “I wanted to give you time.”

  “Oh.”

  He looked down at her. “Oh? What does that mean?”

  She shrugged. “I knew that it was better that we try to get used to the arrangement without complicating it with, you know, sex, but—” She shrugged again.

  “Jane.” He touched her chin and forced her to look at him. “What are you saying?”

  Her eyes, dark now in the stormy night, refused to meet his. “I wasn’t sure you wanted me again.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  She shook her head.

  “Why would you think that?”

  “I wasn’t very experienced.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “I wasn’t sure I pleased you.”

  “Do you still have doubts?”

  He felt her mouth curve against his skin. “No. You took care of them nicely, thank you.”

  If only you could take care of mine, he thought. They continued to hold each other. His hands stroked her bare body, loving the feel of her skin. Warm living satin, he thought. He couldn’t leave her. He didn’t deserve to stay.

  “I had a problem with Billie tonight,” he blurted out.

  “What happened?”

  “She played with her softball inside and broke a vase.”

  Jane groaned. “Which one?”

  “The one in the hall. On that little table. It was completely shattered. There wasn’t anything to save.”

  “That little—I’ve told her and told her. What did you do?”

  He closed his eyes against the memory. “Gave her a twenty-minute time-out and had her write you a letter of apology.”

  Jane squeezed him. “Welcome to the world of parenting.”

  “Did I do the right thing?”

  “Yes. I especially like the letter. It’s a nice touch. I usually take her ball away for the rest of the day, but seeing as it was so close to bedtime, it’s no big deal.”

  He nodded. At least he hadn’t scarred Billie for life, he thought grimly. “She said she hates me.”

  Jane raised herself up on one elbow. “What?”

  “After I punished her. She told me I wasn’t her father, that she wanted me to leave. And that she hates me.”

  “Adam, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Don’t take it too seriously. She’s a kid. She’s just reacting to the situation. You’ve gone from being a friend to being an authority figure in a very short time. It’ll take some getting used to.”

  He turned away. “What if she doesn’t get used to it? What if she decides to hate me forever?”

  “Billie’s attention span isn’t that long.”

  “This isn’t humorous to me.”

  “Adam.” She touched his cheek. “Are you upset?”

  “Of course. What did you think? That I’d take this lightly? My God, Jane, I’ve known her two weeks and she already hates me.”

  “She doesn’t. I promise. Billie thinks the world of you.”

  “It’s not enough.”

  He stared into the darkness. There had to be a solution. “Adam, please. She’s just a little girl. She often says things that she doesn’t—”

  “Marry me.”

  “What?”

  He hadn’t meant to say that, but now that he had, it felt right. He leaned over her and brushed her lips with his fingers. “Marry me, Jane Southwick. Live with me in the big house. Be my wife.”

  He hadn’t planned the proposal enough to have formed thoughts on her reaction, but he never expected her to jump out of bed and glare at him as if he’d suggested something disgusting.

  “How dare you?” she asked in a low cold voice. “That is the cruelest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “I asked you to marry me.”

  She walked over to the closet and pulled out a robe. After slipping it on and tying the belt tight, she clicked on the lamp on the nightstand. Her hazel eyes flashed with fire and something that might have been pain.

  “Why?” she asked. “Why do you want to marry me?”

  “Because—” He paused. “It’s the right thing to do.”

  “No!” Her hands closed into fists. “Damn it, no! Not that, Adam, please. Tell me you love me. Tell me you can’t live without me. Tell me—” She sighed and collapsed onto the edge of the bed. “Tell me anything but that,” she whispered.

  “I do need you.” He moved behind her and took her in his arms. “Please, Jane. You’ve got to understand. All of this. It’s too—”

  “Too what?” She spun out of his embrace. “Too scary? For me, too. I’m terrified. It’s almost like those nine years never happened. We’re still connected with each other. But those nine years are real. I’m not that frightened girl who ran away. I’m all grown up. I know what I want.”

  And it’s not you. She didn’t have to say the words; they echoed loudly enough already. He’d lost. It didn’t matter how or why, but it was over. He rose and walked to the window. Keeping his back to her, so she couldn’t see how much it hurt, he asked, “What do you want?”

  “You.”

  He couldn’t have heard her correctly.

  “Then why—”

  “I love you, Adam. I’ve never stopped loving you. I had to leave to find out everything I needed was right here at home.”

  Hope flared inside of him. He turned to face her. “Then—”

  “No.” She shook her head. “It’s not that easy. You don’t trust me.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “Is it? You want to marry me to keep me from running away again. And I’ll bet it has something to do with forcing Billie to be with you as well. That doesn’t sound like you trust us very much.” She stood up. Her gaze traveled from the top of his head to his feet. He stood naked before her and prayed that she would find him enough. She didn’t. “I could probably forgive you for not trusting me, if you loved me.”

  “I—” He couldn’t say the words.

  “See.” Her smile was sad. “You never told me then, and you can’t say it now. You won’t risk loving me, because it’s the final risk. Everyone you’ve loved has left you.”

  She walked over to him and touched his chest. “Here, in your heart. This is where I want to be. But you won’t let me in. You won’t trust me enough to stay. You won’t love me enough to give me the chance to prove I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Am I?” She smiled sadly. “Tell me you trust me.”

  “I trust you.”

  “Tell me we can stay together without getting married.”

 
“Why won’t you marry me?” he asked in frustration. “What’s so wrong with that?”

  She shook her head. Her long hair swayed back and forth on her shoulders. “You don’t get it. Look me in the eye and tell me you trust me enough to stay without the commitment of marriage.”

  He couldn’t. He didn’t.

  “Adam Barrington, I love you. It’s taken me nine years to figure that out. I’m going to prove it to you, too.” She folded her arms in front of her chest. “I’m going to live next door to you. I’m going to love you. I’m going to tempt you into my bed. When you can risk my leaving enough to confess your feelings—when you can tell me you love me, I’ll marry you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Adam sat on the old wicker chair in the corner of Jane’s front porch. He should go home, he told himself. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

  It wasn’t the rain that kept him in place. The storm had passed, leaving only a few sprinkles. It was his personal band of demons that kept him close. He couldn’t bear the thought that, in a matter of hours, he’d lost them both. The pain, a hollow emptiness inside that seemed to be sucking in his soul, grew with each breath. He felt as if he would disappear in the void. He leaned his head back against the chair and sighed. The truth wasn’t that eloquent. He wouldn’t disappear. He’d keep on going, day after day, knowing he’d lost the two people he cared about most.

  He shouldn’t have proposed. He realized that now. But he’d panicked about Jane hating him as Billie did. Marriage had seemed an easy solution. Jane had seen right through him.

  He shook his head. Damn, she’d grown into a beautiful woman. Not just on the outside—as much as he adored her body close to his—but in her heart. She’d become independent and capable. Those fears about losing herself in another person wouldn’t matter to her anymore. She’d conquered them. And him.

  Give me strength, he prayed silently. And then asked—for what? How did he want to be strong? Did he want to walk away and not regret what he’d lost? Or was he looking for the power to follow in Jane’s footsteps and conquer his fears?

  The front door creaked open. Adam half rose from his chair. But instead of Jane’s willowy form, he saw Billie stepping cautiously on the damp porch.

  “Billie?”

  She turned to look at him. The lamp above the door cast a harsh pool of light. The child looked pale and drawn.

  “Adam? Is that you?” she whispered.

  “Yes. What are you doing up?”

  “Oh, Adam!”

  She ran across the wooden floor and flung herself at him. He grabbed her as she leapt and pulled her next to him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, then sniffed. “I’m sorry I was mean.”

  “Hush.” He held her tightly, her small head nestling against his chest. Inside, the pain around his heart eased some, allowing him to draw a full breath. She felt warm and soft in his arms, and smelled of sleep and little girl. He shut his eyes as a burning began behind the lids.

  “I kept waking up,” she whispered, then tilted her head to look at him. “I had a dream that you really went away. I woke up scared. That’s why I came to find you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m glad you didn’t go home.”

  “My home is with you,” he said thickly, touching his cheek to hers.

  “I don’t hate you.”

  “Thank you for that.”

  “Are you mad at me?” Her lower lip trembled.

  “No, Billie.”

  “You won’t go away like in my dream?”

  “No,” he said, recognizing that they shared the same fears. “I promise I’ll stay with you.”

  “Forever?”

  It was like looking into a mirror, he thought, staring into eyes that were so much like his own. “Forever,” he answered.

  Her arms tightened around his neck as she clung to him. “I love you, Dad.”

  His heart filled with gratitude. “I love you, too.”

  As he spoke the words, he knew they were true. She was his daughter; how could he not love her? He kissed her forehead and waited for the wave of fear. He’d said the words; now it was just a matter of time until she left him.

  He held her until she fell asleep, then he picked her up and carried her back to her bed. After tucking the worn teddy bear under her arm, he pulled up the covers and whispered, “Good night.” She didn’t even stir. On his way out, he passed by Jane’s door. He thought about knocking, but she might be asleep as well. Certainly she wouldn’t want to see him. He crept down the stairs and out the front.

  It wasn’t until he reached his own house that he realized there was no fear. He felt wonder that this child was his, and gratitude that he had the chance to be with her now. But no fear.

  He stared up at the sky. Clouds drifted by, exposing the beauty of a starry night. He held on to Billie’s words, repeating them over and over like a prayer. “I love you, Dad,” she’d said with the sincerity of one who still believes. It gave him hope, he realized. Hope that there might be a way out of this after all.

  *

  Jane stared blurrily at the coffeepot and begged it to hurry. Her night had been long and sleepless. She’d dozed off for a short time, then had spent the rest of the predawn hours staring at the ceiling.

  Had she pushed him too far? Was she asking more of Adam than he could give? Could she settle for less? She shook her head. No. Not for herself or for Billie. She could handle his fears if he would meet her halfway. All she wanted was to know that he loved her. Easy enough. Why didn’t she just go ahead and change the tide while she was at it?

  Billie came bouncing into the kitchen. She’d already dressed herself. Her softball bulged from its usual pocket.

  “How are you?” she asked, remembering what Adam had told her about the previous night.

  “Fine.”

  She bent down to receive Billie’s kiss. “Fine? That’s it. What about the vase?”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Yes, that.”

  Billie shrugged. “I’ve already been punished.” She grinned. “And I wrote a letter.” She thrust it at her mother.

  “What about Adam? I understand that the two of you had some words.”

  Billie laughed. “He’s fine. I talked to him last night.”

  “When?”

  “After I’d been asleep. I had a bad dream that he went away because I told him to.” Her smile faded as she remembered. “I was sad when I woke up, so I went to find him.”

  Jane frowned. “You left the house in the middle of the night?”

  “No. He was outside. On the porch.” She put her baseball cap on her head. “You know, on the chair out front. We talked.”

  “And?”

  “I ‘pologized.” She wrinkled her nose. “He said he’d always be my dad. I told him I love him. Is that okay?”

  “Yes, honey, that’s fine.” Billie was growing up so fast, Jane thought sadly.

  “Good, ’cause he loves me, too.”

  “I know he does, Billie, but sometimes people aren’t comfortable saying the words.”

  “What words?”

  “I love you.”

  She shook her head and skipped toward the door. “He said ’em. I’m going over to see Adam for breakfast. Bye.” With that, she slipped through the back door and headed toward the hedge that separated their property.

  He said them? “Wait,” Jane called after her, but it was too late.

  He said the words? Adam Barrington said “I love you” to his daughter? Was it possible? Jane poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table. She smiled to herself. Maybe, just maybe they were going to get through this.

  *

  Adam stared out his office window. Give it up, he told himself as he tossed his pen onto his desk. He wasn’t fooling anyone. For the last week he’d existed in a fog; going through the motions of his life, but not really participating. He wasn’t kidding anyone. He shook his head. That wasn’t true. He was kidding everyone else; he wasn’t kidd
ing Jane.

  He thought about the routine they’d slipped into. Billie appeared at his house for breakfast. He went over there for dinner. They spent the evening as a family, but as soon as Billie went to bed, he returned to his own place. As Jane watched him leave, she asked him silent questions. He still didn’t have any answers.

  She’d threatened to tempt him into her bed. So far she hadn’t tried anything, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t tempted. It only took a look, a brush of her hand against his arm, or the scent of her perfume and he was hard and ready to take her. So far he’d managed to resist. Not out of any moral strength. Rather it was a feeling of self-preservation and the sensation that he was on the edge of a great discovery. He just had to hang in a little longer. He hoped.

  The late afternoon had turned hot and muggy. Despite the air-conditioning in the bank, he felt uncomfortable. He swore out loud. He couldn’t stand it anymore. Rising from his seat, he grabbed his jacket, then headed for the door. He met his secretary in the hallway.

  “Mr. Barrington?” Edna asked as she stared at him.

  “I’m leaving.”

  “Now?” She sounded scandalized. “It’s only three o’clock.”

  He grinned at her. “I know, Edna. Why don’t you take off early, too?”

  “I couldn’t.” Her heavily painted mouth formed a moue of disapproval.

  “Your choice.”

  He walked through the bank and out the back door.

  The trip home took about ten minutes. After opening a cold beer, he loped up the stairs toward his room. Once he’d shed his suit, he felt better. The house was oddly quiet. It was because Charlene was gone, he told himself. Even though she didn’t actually live with him, she was in and out enough for him to miss her. He wondered what Greece thought of Charlene Standing of The Carolina Standings.

  He pulled on shorts and a polo shirt and picked up his beer. But instead of going downstairs to his office, he turned left and continued down the hall. One of the small rooms at the very end, in what used to be the maids’ quarters, housed a few of his boxes. There were his sports trophies from high school. Some old clothes, his letterman’s jacket. His lucky jersey and a football helmet.