But what captured him the most was June. Silent and happy, her eyes wide, she reclined in an infant chair, one hand curled in a fist. Not crying.
He contemplated that then shifted his gaze to Audrey.
She’d dressed in blue jeans, but left her blouse untucked. The hem rose and fell with the movement of her hands. Her hair remained in disarray, tiny auburn curls poking this way and that.
She stretched across the counter, plucking spilled cereal between her thumb and forefinger, and the buttons of her shirt pulled taut across her chest. He stared, despite the discomfort it gave him.
In the next instant, she glanced his way. “Oh, you’re up. You want mushy cereal or pureed apples?” she asked, displaying the food cupped in her palm.
He smiled, muting a laugh in his throat, surprised to find it there.
“Daddy!”
Spotting him, Jeff went to scramble down, but Bennett leapt forward, one hand coming to rest on his son’s head. “Finish your cereal,” he said.
Jeff resettled, once more picking up his spoon.
“Coffee will do,” Bennett continued, “but I can get it.”
Leaving Jeff’s side, he circled the counter and opened an upper cabinet door to Audrey’s immediate left. In reaching inside, he brushed close and paused. She licked her lips, moisture glistening on the soft pillow of her skin.
Shaking himself, he grasped a mug and reversed. He turned his back to fill his cup, opting to swig the steaming liquid black. His tongue scalding, he winced.
“I was thinking,” Audrey said. “I need to spend some time, the next few days, getting settled, and, of course, I don’t know your usual way of doing things. Why don’t you take Jeff and August to the park this afternoon?”
Bennett started, lowering his mug to the counter with a thunk. “You want me to take your son to the park?”
She smiled. “I have only to look at Jeff and know you’re a good dad, and August is, like I’ve said, extremely good natured. Trust me when I say he won’t cry. Anyhow, it’ll give me time to unpack, and I’m sure June will be asleep. Besides, you look like you could use the fresh air, sans infant.” Raising her own cup of coffee, she sipped at it, gazing at him over the rim. “Tonight …” Her eyes switched to Jeff’s. “I promised the little man we’d watch a movie.”
“Monsters!” he shouted.
Bennett groaned.
“No, now …” Audrey scolded him. “Though Daddy’s watched that one a lot … and I did guess that … Jeff and I have a deal.”
Bennett’s lips curved upward.
“Tomorrow, it’s girl’s pick, though I promised he’d like it.”
The end of her remark was greeted by a soft gasp. Turning aside, she faced the window, one hand rising to massage her left breast, and a memory floated upward in his thoughts.
Beth. They were in the bedroom, her gown parted, new motherhood swelling her flesh. She’d hissed and pinched herself against the discomfort. Feels like pins and needles, she’d said. Thousands of them, pricking me at once. Doctor said it’s normal.
Mmm, I can help you with that, he’d teased.
She’d wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging him downward. But when she’d tried to kiss him, he’d swerved, pressing his mouth to her rich, full curves instead. The gasp that fled her lips in the memory was joined by the crash of ceramic on the tile, and Bennett awoke, his cup in pieces at his feet, coffee spilled everywhere.
Both August and June cried at once. Jeff, fearful, tightened his grip on his spoon.
“I … I’m sorry,” Bennett mumbled. He waved one hand at Jeff. “Stay seated. Daddy has to clean up his mess.” He bent, plucking shards from the floor, and tossed them into the nearby garbage can. He stood and reached for a dishrag, stooping once more to mop up the mess.
The damp cloth curled in his fingers, he faced Audrey.
She’d calmed her son, jingling a small terry-cloth toy, which the boy promptly inserted in his mouth, and now cradled June against her neck. “Why don’t you go sit down and relax,” Audrey said. “It’s probably been a while since you could check your emails in peace. I’ve got this.”
He hesitated, his brow tight.
“Honestly …” she urged. “It’ll be okay.”
He stared at her a moment longer, then dropped the rag into the sink. Shuffling out of the kitchen and to the right, he stepped inside his office, but came to a halt. He hadn’t spent one minute there in weeks, unable to escape either June or Jeff long enough to make the effort.
A rim of dust coated everything, bookshelves, printer, computer screen. Trailing his fingers along the desk’s surface, he left a trail on the way to his chair. The springs squawked as he sat, the cushion expelling a puff of air. Once in place, he made no effort to turn anything on. Because the man that’d occupied this space was gone, the hard-edged guy neck-deep in spreadsheets, replaced by someone who couldn’t escape his memories, who saw his dead wife at every turn and couldn’t cope with the silence anymore.
Dust motes danced in the light of the window, swirling in his breath, and he blew outward, watching them speed toward the ceiling and settle once more over papers and pens.
A shuffle at the door raised his gaze.
Audrey entered the room, a fresh cup of coffee in one hand, his daughter sleeping soundly on her shoulder in the other. She set the mug on a folder left out and turned the handle in his direction.
“Where’s …?” he began to ask.
She nodded back the way she’d come. “Jeff’s watching TV. I put August in the floor at his side. He won’t go anywhere, but chew on his toes for an hour. I should probably encourage him to be more mobile, but what’s the rush? Not like he’s going to stay that way.” She closed the distance between them, sinking into a chair opposite the desk. “You know … it’s okay that you’re out-of-sorts. You haven’t had time to be yourself, what with taking care of your children. I’m sure you’ve got so many memories badgering you … and that’s why I’m here, to give you space to deal with it. But …”
She paused, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. “But I’m also probably reminding you of her. I’m flattered if I do.” She leaned back. “Tell me about her.”
Overwhelmed, Bennett shut his eyes. Beth’s healthy, vibrant expression was hard to find anymore, replaced by the emaciated one he’d gazed at toward the end. “She was always positive,” he said, “always tried to be uplifting. So excited to be a mother.” Which made her death especially hard to take. It’d gone against everything that was “Beth”.
“How’d you meet?”
He opened his eyes again. “She was my secretary, back when I was at Osmand & Mashe.”
“The accounting firm?”
He nodded.
“Dad said you worked together …”
Bennett eyed her, and she gave a nervous laugh.
“Well, more he yelled it,” she continued. “I take it there’s bad blood? Makes no difference to me because I know how my dad is.”
He spoke truthful. “I stole his biggest client, deliberately and on purpose. He’s never forgiven me for it, and frankly, I don’t blame him.”
Audrey didn’t reply at first. “Like I said, it makes no difference to me. I suspect that man and this one are two different people.”
Bennett took his time responding. “Are you always this perceptive?”
She smiled. “Except when it came to my ex. Then again, I knew something was wrong, just not that he was the type of man who’d run out on his son.” She shrugged. “I can’t dwell there, but have to move on … and don’t you worry about my father either. This is my choice; he’ll have to live with it.”
Her head tilted, and she adjusted her hold on June.
“Maybe it isn’t my place to say, I know I haven’t been through what you have, and I still have some growing to do …”
Bennett wrinkled his brow, unsure what she meant.
“But it seems to me when your wife died, you got lost, and it’ll take t
ime to regain your confidence again. Not to forget her, you will never forget. The pain though, that’ll get easier to handle.” She paused, uncertainty forming in her voice. “If … if you can believe someone who won’t turn thirty until September.”
“My wife was thirty-one,” he said.
That revelation seemed to shake her, and she clutched the baby tighter.
Asqueal from her son took her from the room. But her scent lingered, and he inhaled deep, his mind spinning back the years to that morning when Jeff was small, the one where he’d made love to Beth, simply because he could.
She hadn’t had time to prepare for this change in her life, hadn’t gone to the library planning to move in with a man she’d barely met, care for his children, and adapt her habits to fit his. Though she was qualified to be a mother … she could care for June, guide Jeff … she wasn’t qualified to “fix” Bennett Adams. He was a man teetering on the edge of collapse, mourning his wife, mentally exhausted from the care of his children, a man who saw ghosts at every turn.
What he’d seen in the kitchen was a mystery, except he’d not been in the room. His eyes blank, his mouth agape, his coffee mug slipped from his grasp to shatter at his feet. One step in his office had furthered her concern. It looked extremely neglected, like he’d walked out one day with no intention of going back.
Turning things over that afternoon, finally alone with June, Audrey decided her best bet was to act as normal as possible, to provide structure so he could let go of the worry that dogged him. That was part of it. He worried about his children without their mother; he worried about himself coping. She was sure he worried if her being there was good or not. But left much longer on his own, and he might’ve finally given into his pain and done something … drastic.
What would have happened to Jeff and June then?
This job was her taking care of the children, but it was also giving him back his sanity. No, she wasn’t qualified, but she was the person elected to do it, and she had no choice. As rash as moving in here was, moving out and leaving him to pick up the pieces was wrong.
The issue settled in her thinking, Audrey made a list of things she wanted to do, questions she had about his likes and dislikes, and tasks like buying food or doing the laundry. She was only one woman, but perhaps if she wrote them down and assigned herself certain days and times to accomplish each one, gradually she’d get ahead.
“Today, I’m going to unpack my clothing,” she stated aloud.
She was mostly done when Bennett returned. Hearing him call out, she dropped her underthings in a dresser drawer and headed for the stairs. Before she could get there, however, he was halfway up, August perched on one arm, looking much brighter than he had that morning. Jeff tagged along on his heels. Another concern, the boy’s constant attachment to his daddy.
Bennett’s gaze strayed toward June’s room, and Audrey glanced behind. “She’s asleep, though I expect her to catch up with what she’s missed and participate in life more.” She faced forward. “Did you have a good time?” She aimed the question at both him and the boy.
“It was good and August was, as you said, completely content. Although …” Bennett seemed to make a decision and, squeezing past her, turned into Jeff’s room and took a seat on the bed. He stood August facing him, taking hold of either hand, and her son, on wobbly legs, gave an excited squeak. “He isn’t as inept as he appears. He just makes no effort.”
One hand at her mouth, Audrey muffled her pride.
“With a little work, he’ll get the hang of it,” Bennett said. His gaze lifted to hers. “Boys I understand. Girls I may have to have some help with.”
Releasing a long breath, she calmed herself and ran her damp palm down her pants leg. “You have no idea how happy this makes me.”
Bennett stood, still holding onto August’s hands. “I think I do,” he replied, his eyes still on her face. “The same way I feel seeing June peaceful.”
Audrey offered him a smile. “You teach him to be mobile too fast, and I’ll need a leash to keep up with these three.”
To her surprise, he laughed. The sound whisked, pleasant, in her ears and stretched down to her soul. A hint, like bread baking or popcorn popping where your mouth watered way in advance, she tasted the flavor on her tongue. Joy and tranquility for the children, the security of growing up, safe, protected. But stronger in the mix was a taste she’d forgotten, the salty savor of a healthy, attractive man.
It curled in her gut, on the edge of hunger, and suddenly, she was twenty-six and newly wed, gazing into her husband’s adoring eyes. He’d made her a woman on their wedding night. But she’d set that behind the day he’d left and had no right to long for it now, especially not with a man who had so much else on his mind.
Desperation shot through her to escape.
“I should …” Stepping forward, she grasped August and pressed him to her chest. “He still … nurses sometimes. Why don’t you and Jeff go downstairs?” Not waiting for his response, she spun on her heel and dashed to her room. After a quick walk through the Jack and Jill bath to check on June, she retreated to her bed.
August wasn’t particularly hungry, but she forced him anyway, wincing at the nip of his teeth, and conscious she was clinging onto memories as much as Bennett was. Yet, she longed to go back there, experience those emotions again, the lack of them becoming that much sharper.
If Bennett had questions about her behavior, he never said so, and Audrey wasn’t about to bring it up. Instead, over the next few days, she fell into a routine in an effort to forget the incident entirely. Her days were made up of simple household tasks, her mind entirely on the children, and any contact she and Bennett had was fleeting.
At the end of her first week there, however, he approached her as she folded the children’s clothes. He’d dressed up more than usual, black slacks, a white button up, the sleeves rolled to the elbow. He also had on expensive shoes. But it was the dash of cologne that caused her to stop mid-motion.
“You smell good,” she said, unthinking. There was, perhaps, no harm in complimenting him, except for where it took her thoughts. Meeting his intense gaze took them further away from her task, to the strength of his arms, the broad span of his chest, the day’s growth of beard he seemed to wear a lot. “What’s the occasion?” she asked, awakening herself.
Her gaze immediately rested on August and June. The baby gnawed on one curled first. August, as usual, gripped his bare feet.
“I have a business meeting.”
She furrowed her brow. It was good if he was willing to work, but his doing so this suddenly surprised her.
“Just a meeting. I’ll be gone a couple hours. They have questions about a client I was directly involved in and need my input. I was thinking …” He paused. “Why don’t you take the children somewhere, get out for a while? You’re always so busy here.”
Take them somewhere? She could, but she realized, sitting there, she hadn’t taken them anywhere alone yet. Always, they’d split them up, Jeff, still preferring to tag after Bennett. “I need to visit my mother.” And father, who remained curiously silent. She’d called numerous times, but only ever spoken with her mom.
Worry rose in Bennett’s eyes.
Seeing it, Audrey released the garment in her hand, and setting it beside her on the couch, she stood to her feet. “Dad may have problems with you, but he’s incredibly soft with children. I know he misses August and bet he won’t say one word about Jeff or June. In fact, I guarantee it. This may be the perfect way to bridge the gap.”
“If you’re sure,” he replied.
“I’m sure. More than sure. You go to your meeting, and I’ll take the children to see my parents. We’llbe back after lunch. Mom will insist on feeding us. Why don’t you pick up something while you’re out? Better yet, visit with some of your old office friends.”
He hesitated.
“We’ll order pizza for supper, eat on the patio if you like.”
He seemed to t
ake that remark as she’d intended it, as a reminder they’d still be here. He gave a nod and checked his cell for the time. “I should say goodbye to Jeff.” He made a few steps toward the stairs.
“Bennett,” she called.
He paused and glanced her way.
“This is good for Jeff, too. I know you two are close, but he’s hanging onto you so much because of missing his mom.”
Nothing he didn’t already know. But hearing her say it brought on a nod. In the next breath, he was gone, sprinting up the stairs.
She returned to folding, and at the sound of the front door opening and closing, called for the little boy. His small face, so much like Bennett’s, appeared at the top of the stairs. She held out one hand and wiggled her fingers. “Come here. I want to talk to you.”
Reluctant, he descended. She took his hand in hers at the bottom. “I need your help today. You think you can be a big boy and keep up with August?”
Jeff looked past her toward where her son lay on the blanket in the floor. “He doesn’t move,” he said.
She smiled. “Not much, but it’s a lot to keep an eye on him and June together. Don’t you think?”
He nodded.
“Good. Now, here’s your first big task.” She tugged him further into the living room. “You keep an eye on both of them while I put up these clothes, then you can help me buckle them in the car.”
Another thought stuck in her head. “Jeff?”
He looked up at her.
“Do you ever talk to your grandparents?”
Bennett had said little to nothing about either his parents or Beth’s.
“Daddy says they’re in heaven,” the little boy said.
Words From The Heart (Spring-Summer Romance Book 2) Page 3