Slow Burn

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Slow Burn Page 5

by Janice Maynard


  “I’m not afraid of you,” she said, the lie sticking in her throat.

  He stared at her so long she began to get fidgety. “I’m staying for my brother’s wedding and my father’s trial. Both of those are soon. In the meantime, maybe you and I could reconnect.”

  “Reconnect?” She parsed the word for meaning.

  He straightened and took the few steps that separated them. “I want to touch you. Kiss you. Get to know you again. Atlantic City was only a start.”

  When his lips settled on hers, warm and firm, her legs threatened to buckle. Just like five years ago, this sexy, desirable man knew how to cut the ground from under her feet.

  She pulled away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Words came tumbling out. Words she should have censored but didn’t. “I missed you so much, Jake. I fantasized about you. Wanted you. But you left me twice. Once fifteen years ago, and again in Atlantic City. Only a foolish woman would place a bet on a man who flits around the globe.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets, his expression stormy. “I couldn’t save you, Nikki. I couldn’t save us back then, so I ran. I couldn’t bear to stay in Falling Brook one more day. Everywhere I turned, there was another damn reporter. Digging. Poking. Prodding. Wanting every detail of our bleeding lives.”

  “And yet you abandoned me to the wolves.”

  He blinked. “Ouch. The old Nikki I knew wasn’t so harsh.”

  “The old Nikki was a child, Jake. I had to grow up fast. It wasn’t fun, and it wasn’t easy. I survived, though.”

  “Yes, you did. You’re an extraordinary woman.”

  Something pulsed between them. Awareness. Need. He looked so sexy she wanted to climb him like a tree and never let go. If it had been only her, perhaps she would have rolled the dice. Taken a walk on the wild side.

  The kind of selfish pleasure she had embraced in Atlantic City was not a choice now. She had her mother to look out for, and she had Emma to raise. Nikki’s wants and needs had to come in dead last.

  “I should go,” she muttered, looking at her watch. “I’m sorry your father wouldn’t see you today.”

  “Like I said, I’m not surprised.” He reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers.

  “Think about it, Nikki. Not just me and Emma, but you and me. I want to spend time with both of you.”

  “Because you’re bored and at loose ends?”

  His eyes flashed. “Because she’s my daughter, and you’re my past.”

  Nikki played Barbies with Emma, started dinner and then dashed to work, leaving her mother in charge. Roberta Reardon wasn’t incompetent. She was merely fragile. As Nikki poured coffee and took orders—because one of her best waitresses was out—she chatted with regulars. Half of her brain was occupied, trying to cope with the ramifications of the email she had seen on her phone just before she left the house.

  It was from Black Crescent Hedge Fund—from Joshua Lowell, in particular. As he had promised, the attachment to the email was a very official-looking document. Beginning January first, Nikki and her mother would both be receiving checks for ten thousand dollars a month for a period of ten years.

  The math was staggering. In the first twelve months alone, the two women together would have just shy of a quarter of a million dollars. There would be money for her mom to have almost anything she wanted, within reason. Nikki would be able to quit her job and spend these last precious months before kindergarten with Emma.

  They would have financial freedom.

  Why did the prospect seem so threatening? Perhaps because Nikki knew what it felt like to lose everything. She was superstitious about this extraordinary windfall. It was great that Black Crescent had recovered enough to restore much of what was lost. But Nikki’s father had participated in the con, the scam.

  She felt guilty.

  It was late when Nikki got home, so her mom was sleeping over. That was often their pattern. Even though Roberta spent a lot of time with Emma, it was healthier for the two grown women to maintain separate residences. That hadn’t always been possible in the beginning. Back when their lives had fallen apart, and Nikki had barely been an adult, they had needed to save every penny.

  Eventually, things had changed.

  And now, they were about to change again.

  Nikki wanted desperately to go to bed, but she knew she would toss and turn if she didn’t tell her mother what was about to happen. “Mom,” she said. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  Her mother raised an eyebrow. “So serious, sweetheart. What’s up?”

  “I had lunch with Joshua and Jake Lowell today.”

  Her mother paled. “Oh?”

  “I found out about the emails. Your emails. And I apologized to Joshua.”

  Roberta Reardon went on the attack. “Well, I won’t apologize for wanting to protect my daughter and granddaughter. Joshua Lowell is a scoundrel. He should be supporting his baby girl.”

  “Mom...” Nikki rubbed her temple, where a sledgehammer pounded. “Joshua is not Emma’s father.”

  “Of course he is. Don’t try to cover for him. You told me the truth.”

  “I lied.”

  Roberta Reardon stared at her daughter. “I don’t understand.”

  “You kept badgering me when I lost my job. Trying to get me to ask Emma’s father for child support. I didn’t want you to know the truth, so I finally told you what you wanted to hear. I never dreamed you would try to blackmail him.”

  Her mother was visibly offended. “It wasn’t blackmail. I never asked for money. I just wanted him to know he had a child.”

  “But he didn’t.”

  “So, who is the father?”

  Nikki felt her face heat. She was a grown woman, but this wasn’t an easy topic to talk about with her mother. “Jake,” she said quietly. “Jake Lowell. Not Joshua.”

  Roberta put her hands to her cheeks. “Well, that makes a lot more sense. You always did love that boy. He left Falling Brook, though. He’s never been back. Right?”

  “That’s true. But about five years ago I ran into him when I was working at the casino in Atlantic City.”

  Her mother looked shocked. “A one-night stand? Oh, Nikki.”

  “I couldn’t resist him, Mom. I made a mistake. But trust me, Jake hasn’t changed. He’s still the proverbial rolling stone. I can’t risk being with a man like that.”

  She was strong. She could let Jake come over, let him spend time with Emma, but Nikki wouldn’t risk her heart. She wouldn’t give in to sexual attraction. Not this time. The stakes were too high.

  Her mother’s gaze judged her. “Emma deserves a father. Even one who’s not around much. He’s her blood kin. What did he say when you told him?”

  “Not much. I only confirmed what Jake had already heard from his brother. But Jake is only here for the trial. Then he’ll be gone again.”

  “Life is never easy, is it?” Her mother’s eyes were filled with resignation.

  “It felt easy when I was a kid. You and Daddy gave me a perfect childhood.”

  “Nothing is perfect, Nikki. I thought I had a perfect marriage, but look how that turned out. It’s hard to know what’s inside a person’s heart.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom. You deserved better.”

  “And so do you, my dearest girl. So do you.”

  Jake was answering emails in his hotel room when his phone dinged. It had been twenty-four hours since he had seen Nikki. Now she was texting him.

  If you don’t have plans, you’re welcome to come over for dinner. Maybe even read Emma a bedtime story. As a friend.

  Jake shook his head wryly. He did have plans, but he would cancel them. Nikki had made an overture. He wouldn’t miss this chance.

  When he showed up at her house at five o’clock, he saw neighborhood kids playing outside. The weather had s
hifted, and the late-afternoon temps were in the upper fifties. He reached into the back seat and grabbed a shopping bag. He had bought Emma a treat for just such an occasion.

  Nikki opened the door before he could ring the bell. Her face was flushed, her fiery red hair pulled up in a ponytail. Wispy curls escaped around her forehead and cheeks. Those emerald eyes searched his soul.

  “Hi,” she said, giving him a wary look.

  Emotion gut-punched him. This woman. What was it about this woman? She was dangerous to him, to his emotions, his good sense, his need for self-preservation.

  As Nikki stepped back to let him in, he saw Emma, half hiding behind her mother’s leg. He squatted, greeting her at eye level. “Hey, there,” he said. “I’m Jake.”

  Her eyes were big, her gaze solemn. “I remember. Is my mommy gonna be mad at you again?”

  Jake glanced up at Nikki. “I hope not.”

  Nikki shook her head ruefully. “I have to finish dinner. Why don’t you two get acquainted?”

  Jake rattled the shopping bag. “Would it be okay if we played outside? I hate to miss this weather. And I brought Emma a ring-toss game.”

  Emma’s face lit up. “It is okay.” She took his hand. “We have to go to the backyard, ’cause there’s a fence.”

  “Presents, Jake?” Nikki’s expression said she disapproved.

  “Relax. It was less than fifteen bucks. I have a few friends with kids. They always tell me simple toys are the best.”

  Nikki spied unashamedly out the window over the sink. Emma didn’t always warm up to strangers, but perhaps Jake’s thoughtful gift had lowered her defenses. Nikki wouldn’t be so easily convinced. Jake was a loner, a man who deliberately stayed away from any kind of home base, any kind of tie. She wouldn’t let him hurt her or her daughter.

  Even so, Nikki had to admit he was good with the little girl. Patient. Kind. Time and again, he showed her how to position the ring horizontally and how to hold her hand sideways to fling it. Emma got closer and closer. When she finally landed the first one, father and daughter did a spontaneous victory dance.

  Moments later the duo came inside, their body language relaxed. Nikki was bemused by the way her daughter had taken to Jake. Did Emma feel some mystical bond? Did she recognize her father on some visceral level?

  Nikki tried to swallow her misgivings. “Wash up, please. This will be ready soon.”

  Jake gave her an odd glance. “Emma wants to show me the butterflies in her room. We won’t take long.”

  Nikki followed them, unable to squash her anxiety about seeing Jake inside her house. Emma loved butterflies. Always had, even as a toddler. On her fourth birthday, Nikki had let Emma redo her room. Bedspread, posters, mobiles hanging from the ceiling.

  Jake whistled long and low. “This is amazing, Em.”

  Nikki waited for Emma to correct him. No one shortened her daughter’s name. But Emma simply beamed. “I can name fifteen different species on flash cards,” she said, “and I’m working on the others. Some of the words are hard.”

  Jake seemed surprised. “You’re reading already?”

  Emma gave him the kind of eye-rolling look that precocious kids have been giving parents since the beginning of time. “I started reading when I was three. It’s easy, Jake. Don’t you love books?”

  He nodded. “I do, at that. And I’m glad you do, too.” He stared around the room, taking in every bit of it. “Emma,” he said, “I have something to show you.” He sat in the rocking chair, the one Nikki had bought at a thrift store when Emma was an infant. He lifted Emma onto his lap.

  She squirmed and got comfortable. “What is it?”

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “You know the monarchs, right?”

  “Of course. They’re the easiest ones.”

  “Last year, just about this time, I was in Mexico.” He pointed to the large map on her wall. “It’s that pink country under the United States.”

  “I know,” she said. “There’s a kid at my preschool named Matias. He and his mom moved here from Mexico when he was a baby.”

  “Ah. So you know geography, too.” The expression on his face when he glanced over at Nikki made her shrug and grin. Emma was very bright. And endlessly curious.

  “What’s jog-raphy?” Emma asked, perplexed.

  “Never mind, kiddo. Here. Look at this.” He cued up a video and Emma zeroed in.

  “Wow,” she said.

  “It’s part of the monarch-butterfly migration. People come from all over the world to see it.”

  Emma’s intense absorption tugged at Nikki’s conscience. Travel was something she hadn’t been able to afford. At least not anywhere out of state.

  Her daughter looked up at Jake, wonder in her eyes. “Do they really fill up the whole sky?”

  “It seems that way. It’s so beautiful, your heart wants to dance.”

  “And maybe you wished you could be a butterfly, too?”

  His voice got all low and gravelly. “Maybe I did.”

  Nikki tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “Will you help her wash her hands? I’ve put pasta in the pot. We’ll eat in five.”

  In the kitchen, she concentrated on her task, but her brain raced like a hamster in a wheel. Jake had so much world experience to share with his daughter. Nikki had traveled as a teenager, but taking trips had ground to a halt when she and her mother had been sent away from the only home Nikki had ever known.

  Her father had cleaned almost everything out of the checking and savings accounts. Her mother had been forced, by necessity, to sell most of her jewelry that first year so she and Nikki wouldn’t starve.

  When Nikki’s two dinner companions returned to the kitchen, they were discussing the merits of brownies versus cupcakes.

  Emma took her usual seat at one end of the table. “Mommy makes both of them good. You’ll see.”

  “No pressure,” Nikki muttered. Her daughter wouldn’t understand that a man like Jake had dined on the world’s finest cuisine in dozens of the most cosmopolitan cities.

  But Jake was unfazed. “Comfort food is the best,” he said, digging into his spaghetti as soon as Nikki was seated. “This is amazing, Nikki.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” She had set the table so that Emma was between her two parents. Maybe Emma didn’t feel the weight of the moment, but Nikki definitely did. Judging by the look on Jake’s face, he did, too.

  During the entire meal, he watched Emma with a combination of pride and wonder that would have been adorably macho if Nikki hadn’t been so torn about the future.

  When the meal was over, Nikki put on her stern-mommy look. “Into the shower with you, ladybug. And don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

  When Emma disappeared, Jake raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t she a little young for that?”

  Nikki picked up the plates while Jake gathered the silverware. “Three months ago, she informed me that baths were for babies. She’s trying her best to grow up as fast as she can, and I’m trying my best to slow her down.”

  Jake watched Nikki put the dishes in the sink, then he dropped the silverware and pulled her close, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ve done a great job with her, Nikki. She’s smart and funny.”

  “I’m glad you think so.” Nikki backed away. She was supposed to be focusing on her daughter, but with Jake this close, all she could feel were her wobbly knees and sweaty palms. After fifteen years, she should have developed some kind of immunity, but whatever pheromones he’d been blessed with made her crazy.

  They weren’t touching. Not really. Not anymore. But the eight inches of air between them vibrated with deep emotion. She wanted him.

  Did he feel the same urgency?

  “I need to check on Emma,” she croaked. “Don’t worry about the kitchen. Make yourself comfortable in the living room. I ha
ve basic cable.”

  His lips twitched. “Go, little mama. Look after your chick.”

  The whole time Nikki supervised Emma’s drying off and choosing clean pajamas and picking a bedtime book, her skin quivered. Jake was in the next room. Waiting. He was staying to talk about Emma. She knew that.

  Maybe Nikki was the only one in this house acting immature.

  When Emma was completely ready for bed, Nikki kissed the top of her head. “Would you like Mr. Jake to read your bedtime story tonight?”

  The little girl’s face brightened. “Sure. But I need to get a different book.”

  Nikki glanced at the picture book in her daughter’s hands. It was a Caldecott Medal winner about Irish fairies and sliding down rainbows—one of Emma’s favorites.

  “I don’t understand, sweetie. You love this book.”

  “Yeah, Mommy. But it’s kind of girly. Mr. Jake is a boy, and he’s real smart. I’ve got other books he’ll like better.” Before Nikki could stop her, Emma was tearing through her bookcase, moving and tossing and stacking until she found what she wanted. “Here it is.”

  Nikki frowned. “I thought we agreed that book was a little too hard for you to read right now. Maybe next year, Emma.” It was a thick, several-hundred-page volume about the solar system.

  “But I’m not reading it, Mommy. Mr. Jake is.”

  “It’s far too long, baby.”

  “He can do just a few pages.”

  Nikki knew when she was beaten. She followed her daughter to the front part of the house where Jake was sprawled on the sofa resembling the dangerous male animal he was. He hadn’t bothered turning on the TV. Instead, he was staring at his cell screen.

  When they walked into the room, he immediately dropped the phone. “Hey, there.”

  Emma walked right up to him and handed over the book. “Will you read me a story? I picked this one for you,” she said, beaming. “Because you told me you liked zubzertories.”

  Nikki shot Jake a puzzled glance.

  He smiled. “Observatories. And I’d love to read this to Emma.”

  “Ah. Well, twenty minutes, no more, please.” Nikki needed to get Jake out of her house before her resolve cracked.

 

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