In This Together

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In This Together Page 17

by Kara Lennox


  “Then I have to find day care for after school, holidays, teacher in-service days, a month at Christmas... Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to dump all that on you. It’s just... There’s a lot on my mind right now.”

  “What about a nanny? If someone could care for MacKenzie at home, it might be less disruptive than taking her to yet another place—”

  “I’d like that. But the cost is...well, not something I can cover. My business does okay, but not enough for that.”

  “I could do it.”

  “What?”

  She’d stopped in the middle of the path. A teenage boy on Rollerblades almost ran her over. “No, really, I could. I love kids. In fact, one of the things I really missed working at Daniel’s was that I wasn’t around kids. I used to run the day care center at Logan Oil.”

  “You’d trade your job as a billionaire’s personal assistant to be a nanny working for minimum wage?”

  “We could try it out. I’ll have to make a decision about my assistant job eventually, but maybe not until the end of the year. And if I took care of MacKenzie, it would have the added benefit of getting me out of my parents’ house for several hours every day, which, believe me, would be a huge blessing for all of us. I don’t know if you noticed, but my mother can be a tad overbearing.”

  Travis’s head spun. If he had responsible day care in place, he could get MacKenzie right away. Missy said they could expedite him as a foster parent while all the adoption stuff got sorted out. That way, he wouldn’t have to rip MacKenzie out of yet another home at some later date once he got everything settled.

  Hell, what was he thinking? Elena couldn’t be his nanny. For one thing, he was having a hard time keeping his hands off her even now.

  “You could get an apartment with a spare bedroom,” she went on, “and I could live in. You wouldn’t have to pay me beyond room and board.”

  “Wait a minute. You would work for me...for free?”

  “For room and board. I mean, it’s just temporary, right? Then you’ll have time to explore all the childcare options and pick the best one. Travis, this is a great idea!”

  Travis let himself imagine what it might be like to have a bigger apartment, to have MacKenzie living there, to have Elena with them, sleeping under the same roof. The fantasy felt suspiciously like a family.

  He shook his head. “No, no, Elena, this can’t work.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I...I couldn’t live in the same apartment with you and not... It would drive me insane, okay?”

  “Am I that annoying?”

  “Not annoying. Alluring. Sexy.” Did he have to paint a picture for her?

  “Oh. Oh....” She started walking again. She wouldn’t look at him.

  “Surely this doesn’t come as a big surprise to you.”

  “Well, yes, it sort of does.”

  “I kissed you. Twice.”

  “I thought I kissed you.” She almost squirmed, she was so uncomfortable talking about it.

  “You might have started it, but I finished it. I liked having you in my arms. A guy like me, well, how often do I get to kiss a classy Cuban goddess like you?”

  “I don’t know. I guess that’s something that’s yet to be determined.” Finally she peered at him through her lashes. “Cuban goddess, huh? That’s stretching it.”

  “I don’t think it is.”

  They had almost completed the circular path around the park. He had to get this thing settled now. He wasn’t going back inside the Marquez house, where he was likely to get sucked into another round of pie and football.

  “Elena, I came over here today because I didn’t like how we said goodbye. But we’ve fixed that now. I’ve apologized. And now I’m going to leave—for good this time. Because if I don’t... I mean, I can’t just be friends with you. I can’t be your employer. I can’t let you live with me or take care of MacKenzie. You get that, right?”

  “Because you don’t think we could—”

  “We can’t. You’re not thinking straight. You went through a trauma. You’re at a crossroads. That’s no reason to make reckless decisions. And throwing in your lot with mine—that, dear Elena, is reckless. So I’m gonna leave you now. Again. I won’t come back.”

  She stopped walking again. “You can’t just—”

  He kept walking. He had to. No matter how she tempted him. He would drive over to Eric’s house and mow the lawn, something he did every week or so. The physical activity might keep his mind off what he was walking away from.

  Elena made a strange sound, somewhere between a groan and a scream. “You can’t just decide that! Don’t I get a say? I know my own mind. But I guess you don’t trust my judgment, either. First Daniel, now you.”

  “Goodbye, Elena. Tell your mother thanks.”

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Elena ran to catch up with him, and then turned to face him, walking backward. “Do you have any idea what kind of hell she’ll put me through when you don’t come back? And if I tell her you’re never coming back? She’ll think I did something to drive you off.”

  “I’ll tell her you didn’t.”

  “You think I won’t take you up on that offer? I’ve got your phone number. I’ll make her call you. And you can explain.”

  He turned that possible conversation over in his mind. Nope. The outcome wouldn’t be pretty. “She’ll just have to understand.”

  “Understand that you’re being unreasonable?”

  “Understand that it could never work. Tell her about how I threw you into a truck and kidnapped you. Tell her that. You think she’ll want you to have anything to do with me if she knows the true story of how we met?”

  “I’m not sure. But my father would kill you. So that secret is never coming out. Never.”

  Maybe she was right about that. He couldn’t afford to have anyone wanting to kill him, not if he expected MacKenzie’s adoption to go through. Although Missy was on his side, her opinion could change if she sensed anything the slightest bit hinky with Travis. Her first responsibility was to MacKenzie.

  No drama, Missy had said. He needed to look as stable as possible.

  Elena put her hands on her hips. “Do you make it a habit to sabotage your happiness?”

  “Do you make it a habit to tell people how they ought to live their lives? I will not be your charity case, your do-gooder project.”

  “That’s not—” She stopped. The hurt expression on her face nearly did him in.

  He softened his voice. “I’m not trying to be hurtful. I just need for you to understand why I shouldn’t be part of your life.”

  “You keep saying that. But here you are.”

  “Quitting you is kind of like quitting smoking. Maybe it takes a few tries, a few backslides, before I succeed.”

  “Fine. Walk away. I won’t call you again. I can’t guarantee what my mother will do, but I’ll try to impress upon her that she needs to drop it.”

  “It’s for the best.”

  “Whatever. Give me your phone.”

  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and handed it to her. “Who are you going to call?”

  “No one.” With dexterous fingers, she quickly tapped the screen. “I’m giving you my cell number. Por si las moscas.”

  It took a moment for Travis to translate. “For the flies?”

  “It’s a Cuban saying. It means ‘just in case.’”

  They were almost back to the Marquez house. He was trying to come up with the words to soften his abrupt departure when he noticed Elena was no longer focused on him. She was staring past him at something in the street.

  He looked where she was looking and immediately saw what had shocked her. Someone had spray-painted his truck. Even with the previously colorful paint job, the new addition stood out in sho
cking relief.

  “You’ll never get her,” Elena read out loud.

  “I can read it,” he snapped.

  “I didn’t say you couldn’t!”

  “You didn’t tell me about the jealous boyfriend.”

  “Travis, I don’t have a jealous boyfriend. Or an unjealous boyfriend, either.”

  “A stalker, then.”

  “No, I don’t have any stalkers. I haven’t dated anyone in a long time, and no one has shown any interest.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Travis, I don’t think this is about me at all. I think it’s about MacKenzie.”

  Oh, God. That possibility hadn’t even occurred to him. “In front of your house?”

  “Maybe someone’s been following you.”

  That thought sent a chill up his spine. Someone following him, keeping tabs on him.

  “The Stovers must be pretty mad that you ratted them out,” Elena said. “They’ve lost MacKenzie, and they might lose their other meal tickets, as well, if Social Services takes the other foster kids away.”

  “You think they might try to get back at me? Make sure I can’t adopt her, either?”

  “I wouldn’t rule it out. You better be careful. They might try to dig up dirt on you or goad you into something.”

  “Or maybe they just want revenge. Obviously they know where I live. And now they know where you live.”

  Elena issued an unladylike snort. “I’m not afraid. People who express themselves through graffiti are too chicken to confront anyone face-to-face. They feel powerless, and scary-sounding anonymous threats are the best they can do.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t bet your safety on psychological statistics. You should be afraid. Be careful. Tell your parents to be careful, too. Lock your doors. Don’t answer the door to strangers. Stay alert.”

  “Travis, I had to go to bodyguard school before I could work for Daniel. I know the drill. I’ll be careful.”

  “Okay. Damn, I’m sorry to bring this onto your doorstep.”

  “It’s okay.”

  He unlocked his truck.

  “Wait. Aren’t you going to call the police?”

  “They won’t come, not for vandalism.”

  “It’s more than vandalism. It’s a threat.”

  “No. I don’t want any official record of any problems involving the police. Better if I act like it doesn’t bother me.”

  Elena looked around nervously. “You think he’s watching?”

  “No. He’s long gone.” He hoped. “Goodbye, Elena.” If he hadn’t already been convinced he didn’t belong in Elena’s world, this little incident did the trick. He was not going to endanger Elena and her family by allowing the Stovers to think he cared for her.

  * * *

  “YES, I THINK this place is wonderful,” Missy enthused as Travis showed her around his new digs. He’d always thought the next time he moved, it would be into his own house, a little slice of real estate to call his own. But buying a house took time: contracts, inspections, insurance, loan approvals... All that stuff took weeks Travis didn’t have. So he’d resigned himself to yet another boring, white-walled apartment. A two-bedroom right in his own complex had been vacant and available.

  But Thanksgiving Day, on his way home from mowing the lawn at his brother’s house, he’d spotted a yard sign that piqued his interest: Rent to Own. And it was in the front yard of a cute little two-story structure with a wraparound porch. “Lease today—move in tomorrow.”

  The house was in his brother’s old neighborhood, Timbergrove, but on the other side of White Oak Bayou, where the houses were more modest frame cottages from the 1950s.

  He’d gone the next day to look and decided it was perfect. It needed some work, too, which meant he could get it at a good price. When he’d told the owner he was interested in buying the house as is, but renting it until the sale closed, the owner was amenable. They’d quickly settled on terms and signed some papers, and by Tuesday he was moving his stuff in. He’d called Missy on Wednesday morning, eager for her to see how serious he was about making things good for MacKenzie.

  “This is her room, see?” He opened the door to the second-largest bedroom. It had lots of windows. “I haven’t bought the furniture yet, but I will. Maybe today.”

  Missy laughed. “For someone who had to be dragged kicking and screaming into the father role, you’re remarkably enthusiastic.”

  “I have to admit, the idea has grown on me. But I’m not her father. I’m Uncle Trav. Her father will be coming home.”

  “Has she visited her father in prison?”

  “We’ve managed it only a few times. Getting the Stovers to cooperate is almost impossible. I schedule the visit, but then they call and tell me MacKenzie is sick or something has come up. They won’t let me take her to visit, God forbid. But Eric won’t be a stranger. They talk on the phone. He writes her letters. She remembers him.”

  “You’re a good uncle.”

  “I try.”

  He was surprised at how much he wanted to adopt MacKenzie, when two weeks ago he’d been adamantly opposed to the idea. He supposed he owed a good part of his attitude change to Elena. She’d forced him to take a good, hard look at himself, at his life and his motivations for declaring he couldn’t be a fit guardian. He’d been startled to realize she was right. He was afraid—afraid he wasn’t up to the task. Afraid he wouldn’t be as good a father as Eric was, or that he would somehow inadvertently do some damage to that poor fragile child.

  He was still afraid. But he’d realized that shouldn’t stop him from trying to do what was right.

  “Do you have childcare worked out yet?” Missy asked, checking out the bathroom.

  “There are three day care centers within a couple of miles,” Travis replied. “I’m going to check them out tomorrow.”

  “Have you thought about a nanny? I only ask because MacKenzie might feel more secure dealing with just one caregiver in her own home. Day care can be wonderful, don’t get me wrong. And socializing with other children is great. But day care has its own problems. For one thing, if your child is sick, you can’t leave them at day care, and then what do you do?”

  “I guess I would stay home with her,” Travis said. But what would he do if he had to go to work? Someone had to supervise his work crews. Jobs had to get finished on time if he wanted to get paid. “I’d love to have a nanny—”

  “I know, it’s expensive. My own kids are in day care as we speak, so I understand, believe me.”

  But he had a perfectly good candidate for a nanny, at least a temporary one.

  It didn’t help matters that everywhere he looked in the house, he pictured Elena. She’d planted that seed in his mind—that she could be MacKenzie’s nanny. He saw her pushing MacKenzie on the tire swing that he planned to hang from the big tree in the backyard. He saw her fixing sandwiches in the kitchen. He saw her helping him paint the living room, which currently was a particularly revolting shade of mustard yellow—and that had absolutely nothing to do with childcare.

  “Well, as soon as you work all that out, you can bring MacKenzie to live with you.”

  “I... Really? What about... I thought maybe my background would make things more difficult.”

  “It’s different when you are the child’s next of kin and her biological father is willing to surrender his parental rights to you. I’ve gotten to know you pretty well, Mr. Riggs, and I know you’ll take good care of MacKenzie. You won’t do everything perfectly—no one does. But you’re stable and responsible and clearly you love your niece. Wow, this is just a great house.”

  “Thanks.” But the word came out as a squeak. He could have MacKenzie in a matter of days. “I...I might have the nanny thing worked out. A family friend volunteered to take care of MacKenzie. S
he has experience managing a day care center, and she loves kids.”

  “That sounds great. Let me know. I’ll get out of your hair. I know you have work to do.”

  “Thanks, Missy, you’ve been great.”

  As Missy had pointed out, he needed to get to work. His crews were reliable, but they tended to get lazy and move a little slow if he didn’t make an appearance every so often. The bank was breathing down his neck to get the house finished, because they wanted to put it on the market in January. Lots of people started to think about moving after the holidays were over.

  But he lingered for a few minutes after Missy left, walking from room to room, opening some of the boxes.

  Hell, who was he kidding? It might take him weeks to work out childcare—unless he called Elena.

  She would never let him hear the end of it. He’d been the one to firmly insist they had to stay away from each other. And he was going to cave in yet again and drag her back into his life.

  At least the Stovers didn’t know the location of this house, he reasoned. And if Elena was living there in the spare room, it would be easier to ensure her safety. He hadn’t heard a peep out of the Stovers since the graffiti incident; he hoped that would be the end of it.

  Ah, hell, he knew he was going to do it. He should have erased her from his contact list when he was determined to stay out of her life. But he hadn’t, and he was still one phone button away from hearing her voice.

  He pushed it, his heart beating furiously. He’d never felt like this calling a woman before—not even his ex-wife when he’d been in his greatest throes of lust.

  “Hello?” It was a man’s voice.

  What the hell? “I’m trying to reach Elena Marquez.”

  “Travis? Travis Riggs?”

  Oh, God. He knew who that was. “Yes, it’s me.” Travis injected as much arrogance as he could into his voice. “Where’s Elena?”

  “This is a company phone, and she returned it to me this morning. She resigned, but I’m sure you knew that.”

  Oh, hell. “I thought she was just taking a leave of absence.”

 

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