He smiled. “I can dress up.”
“I see that, and now, I feel in the shade.”
He stepped forward, offering his arm, and she slipped her fingers in the crook of his elbow. He smelled fabulous as well.
“Not possible. You’re beautiful,” he replied. “You make it hard to look away.”
She basked in his compliment. It was nice to hear. Nursing all the time tended to make her feel less than glamorous.
He led her outside, locking the door, and helped her into his SUV. Unlike the house, it was pristine, oiled leather, polished chrome. She inhaled the scent of leather protectant, buckling her seat belt.
Bennett poked his keys into the ignition. “What day is it?” he asked.
Audrey giggled, the back of her fingers pressed to her lips, and hearing it, Bennett reciprocated, his shoulders shaking with silent mirth.
“I think it’s Saturday,” she replied, calming herself.
He cranked and straightened. “Which would make tomorrow Sunday, unless the children have stolen that memory, too.”
Audrey smiled. “No, I believe you’re right. Sunday still comes after Saturday.”
He chuckled again and shifted into reverse. “In that case, I know where we can go, a little place Beth liked ….” He caught himself and paused.
On impulse, Audrey stretched out one hand and laid it atop his. His grip on the gear shift tightened.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’d love to see where Beth liked to go.”
His palm opened the slightest bit, and she curved her fingers around it.
Though the specter of his wife was definitely between them, their individual battles were what made their budding relationship work. Not only their love for the children, but that what he fought in his mind, similarly, she fought in hers.
He wanted to live again, and so did she. To live without her ex’s actions always dictating her behavior. To feel loved, desired, wanted. To have that heady rush a lover gave. She had no idea if they’d end up that way, but it seemed like tonight was the first huge step in that direction.
It moved them past their thoughts into reality. Thinking of that made Audrey’s heart beat harder.
He probably shouldn’t have brought Audrey to a place that reminded him so much of Beth. Why was he always doing that? Beth was gone. He’d stood over her grave. He’d boxed up her clothes. Yet, she reappeared in his mind at the most inopportune moments, causing him to reexamine everything he did.
He reexamined his growing relationship with Audrey. He wanted to be fair to her and, given that, should say he wasn’t looking for another wife. He should say he was months, years, from falling in love. He and Audrey had incredible body heat. He even thought he could feel something for her if given enough time. But what he wanted, right now, was to feel whole again.
She looked at him as a desirable man, not intimidated by their age difference, and he was flattered that after all he’d been through, with all the strings that extended from his life, a young, voluptuous woman like her considered him worth looking at.
She was worth looking at. He couldn’t quit staring or, tonight, stop his erotic thoughts. But being honest, he felt washed up. Her admiration of his suit had helped his ego. Her laughter in the car had been a welcome change from his introspective mood. Yet, here he was in a place filled with Beth. No woman wanted to constantly compete with a man’s dead wife.
“I know I’m being nosy,” she said, her fork poised over her plate. “But why did you wait so late in life to have children?”
It was a fair question, and he was surprised she hadn’t asked him that already. But still, he considered his answer. “I was too caught up in my career, too self-centered, I guess. My parents had passed away, and life became all about me.”
“Until you met Beth.” Audrey took a bite, chewing slowly, then wiped her lips. “My mom told me what happened, and I remember Peter Massey … not to bring up a sore subject.”
Bennett waved one hand outward. “It’s not sore. Being truthful, I’ve thought very little about him. What Beth and I had, you can’t duplicate …” He heard his words and regretted them. “I didn’t mean …”
Audrey, as usual, smoothed things over. But then, she was good at doing that. “It’s okay.” She shrugged. “It can’t, and I’m not trying.”
Bennett leaned toward her. Sitting so close, her fragrance scattered his thoughts. “I have to be honest …” He didn’t know why he wanted to admit this, except given everything that was happening, she deserved to know. “It’s been a while. We didn’t … much. Then the doctors thought her treatments had worked, so we tried for June.”
The cancer had returned almost immediately, but by then, it was too late. Bennett refused to go back there in his mind, deliberately blocking those awful moments.
“For me, too,” Audrey replied. “A year and a half. Cale was done when I told him I was pregnant. He actually accused me of tricking him, as if he wasn’t involved at all … and now, he skips out on paying child support.”
Bennett’s brows drew together. “He doesn’t pay?”
She shook her head. “He’s missed two months already, and I’m betting he’ll miss even more.”
“You should report him.”
“Probably.” She shrugged. “But I … I don’t want to go there. At least, not tonight.”
Not tonight, nor, he’d bet, tomorrow either. Bennett let the subject die. “We should eat,” he said. He straightened and reached for his plate. His fork in his hand, a shadow fell over their table.
“Bennett … fancy meeting you here … and I see you have a friend. Is this your new nanny?”
Julia. Bennett’s stomach curled into a knot, what he’d already eaten, churning uncomfortably. It was one thing to face her by himself, but to drag Audrey into it …
“Audrey Ferguson …” Audrey spoke, surprisingly sharp. “It was so nice of my parents to take the kids for the evening. You have no idea how tiring it is to keep up with three children under five.”
“I … I’m sure.” Julia wavered.
“And, of course, we asked ourselves, what are two adults supposed to do with so much free time? I feel like I should be in baby-stained clothing, a toddler on one knee, an infant on the other. It’s nice to get out. Bennett said this place was a favorite of his wife’s.”
At the mention of Beth, Julia stepped in reverse. Bennett wanted to laugh at her expression, but didn’t.
“I’ll let you get back to your meal,” Julia replied. “It was nice meeting you … and nice seeing you again, Bennett.” With a nervous wave, she grabbed hold of her skirt and marched off.
“I know her,” Audrey said.
He started. “You know Julia?”
“Through my dad, probably from a work function. Anyhow, what a piranha!”
He chuckled. “She’s no match for you, princess.”
Audrey’s eyes gleamed. “I admit that felt incredibly good.” She grasped her fork and stabbed it into a chunk of her meat. The bite poised at her lips, she paused. “I’m hungry now.” She slid it on her tongue, rolling the morsel between her lips.
Bennett made a small cough. “I see that.”
Holding the passenger side door for Audrey to take a seat, Bennett checked his watch. “If it’s okay with you, there’s somewhere I’d like to go.” Somewhere that was his preference, this time, and not Beth’s.
“Sounds good,” Audrey replied. Angling her legs, she ducked her arms away from the door opening.
Bennett shut it, in response, and made his way around, a new spring in his step.
Her standing up to Julia had been intensely attractive … and different from Beth. Beth’s reaction to everything was always nice. She’d look before she leaped. Except when it came to sleeping with him and breaking her engagement. But she’d felt guilty over that. More than once, he’d had to talk her into letting it go.
I didn’t love him, she’d said. But I should have tried to explain …
&n
bsp; Why? As if a jilted bridegroom would accept any sort of explanation for picking another man, no matter how sweetly you phrased it.
Flipping his blinker, Bennett made a left onto the boulevard.
Peter hadn’t been so sweet. He hadn’t told her of the nasty phone call he’d gotten afterward, and though she knew of his demotion, he’d smoothed the horribleness of that over, too. In fact, he’d protected her from a lot of life: people’s opinions of their relationship, the descent of his career, and a dozen other small things.
He hadn’t been able to protect her from cancer or radiation or chemo or the horrible agony she’d been in before she died. Part of grieving was missing her; the other part was how inept the whole thing had made him feel.
Audrey gave him his confidence back. The spark in her, that was so much not like Beth, reignited his will to survive, to feel good again.
They drove downtown. Multi-storied high rise buildings crowded together on narrow city blocks. He weaved their way through the mesh of crowded streets to a wide parking garage. Inside, he drove to the top level and escorted Audrey into the nearby elevator. They rode to the roof level of the attached building. The exit door in his grip, Bennett extended his hand for hers, and their eyes met.
“What’s this?” she asked, her fingers falling into his grip.
He angled her toward the northernmost view. “I came here the first time when I was up-and-coming at the firm. I had business with a minor client. Anyhow, I was flirting with the receptionist … badly … when she said ‘a man with my self-admiration should stand at the top and see how small he is.’”
Audrey laughed, and Bennett grinned.
“I was always full of myself,” he continued, “which is good for business, but not so much for relationships.” His tone moderated. “Beth taught me that.”
“Cale taught me that people can be jerks.” She spoke frank.
He made a face. “I was the jerk.”
“You …” She faced him. “… are the world’s best dad, the kindest man …” Her voice faded.
“And …?” He smiled at her.
Her hand slid from his and she brushed a strand of hair, blown across her cheeks, back into place. “Are we being completely honest?”
He nodded. “But we’ll make a trade. I’ll say something equally nice.”
She wrinkled her nose, light sparkling in her eyes. “Who says it’s nice?”
His laughter rang out across the rooftop, dying to the hum of traffic far below. “Humor the old man,” he said. “He needs as much build up as he can get.”
She stepped closer, tilting her face toward his. She raised one hand, taking hold of his lapel. “There’s the thing though. You’re not old, and your wife was a lucky woman.”
Heat spread from her grip through his clothing to his skin. Compelled, he cupped her chin in his palm. “Your husband was a fool.”
The ring of her cell phone broke into the moment. Digging it from her pocket, she raised it to her ear. “Mom? Is everything okay?” Worry formed on Audrey’s brow. “We’ll come there. Give us fifteen.”
She disconnected. “June’s fidgety and Mom’s nervous. It’s probably nothing …”
Bennett’s mood changed. He reached for her hand again and headed for the elevator. It probably was, but the children came first. He’d learned that from Beth, too, but Audrey had taught him how to handle it.
“Hey, Dad, is June …?” Audrey looked past her father toward the interior of the house. A line of shoes extended across the foyer, her father’s larger ones mixed in with Jeff’s small sneakers.
“She’s been crying a little,” he said, “but it’s probably just that we’re not you.” He flicked a look at her outfit then Bennett’s, before reversing and motioning them in.
With one glance at Bennett, Audrey passed them both and made her way to the kitchen. Her mom paced around the island, rocking June in her arms. The baby, her eyes squeezed shut, face red, let out a squall.
Her mom released a long breath. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here. I simply don’t have the knack anymore.”
“Here, let me …”
Her mom leaned forward, gingerly transferring June into her grip. Audrey adjusted her hold, tucking the infant face down against her neck, and almost instantly, her crying stopped.
“You mean, that was it?” Her mom’s eyebrows arched.
Audrey smiled and swayed. “She’s particular about everything, what to eat, what to wear … believe it or not … how to sleep. She’s going to grow up and be a diva.”
The rumble of men’s voice came from the foyer, and Audrey turned toward the sound. The conversation sounded serious.
“Audrey.”
Jeff’s small voice drew her gaze.
“Hey, there,” she said.
He hugged her legs, his face twisted upward.
“Your dad’s talking to Dale. I’m sure he’ll be here in a … Wait. Where’s August?” She asked this last question to her mom.
Her mom smiled. “Sound asleep. That boy could sleep through a hurricane.”
Audrey smiled. He could.
“Which reminds me, your father wanted to ask … and maybe he already has. But we were thinking that Jeff and August could stay the night.”
No sooner had her mom introduced the topic, then Bennett entered the room. His expression was hard to judge. Had her father grilled him for some reason? That’d be like him. But she wasn’t a child who needed “dear ol’ dad” to defend her. As if Bennett was some kind of threat.
“Daddy!” Jeff transferred himself to Bennett, who scooped him from the ground.
“What’s this about camping in the living room?” he asked. He sounded upbeat.
“Can I? Please? Me an’ Dale an’ August made us a tent.”
“A tent?” Audrey looked through the doorway into the living room where a tattered quilt had been stretched between the couch and coffee table.
“It’ll be fun,” her dad said.
Audrey stared at him. She’d seen him many ways over the years. He was tough in business, loving to her mom, a stern disciplinarian when she was younger, but a softie with his grandson … and apparently Jeff, as well. She had no doubt he wanted time with the boys. It was any hidden motive that bothered her.
“I told him I didn’t want to intrude,” Bennett said, “but he insists.”
“Then I don’t see why it’s a problem. We’ll pick them up in the morning, and if you have any problems with August …”
Her mom laughed, light. “The only problem with that boy will be hunger, and I have the snacks you sent. He’ll be fine.”
“I know,” Audrey continued. “He’s not much trouble, but if he is, call us, no matter what time it is.”
June squirmed, making an angry squeak, and Audrey headed for the door, her breasts tingling.
“We’ll let you know before we come,” she said. She fitted June into her car seat, hefting it in one hand.
The rocking motion of the car, once they got under way, sent the baby off to sleep.
“What did Dad say to you?” Audrey asked when they neared home.
Bennett looked at her in the rearview mirror. “That he remembered what I’d done and still hated it, but he saw the man I’d become when talking to Jeff.”
That was quite a compliment coming from him.
“And his daughter is the ‘apple of his eye’,” Bennett continued, “and you’ve had enough grief without anyone adding to it.” He shrugged. His gaze returned to the road. “It was a warning, and I totally understand it. I replied that I needed you for more than feeding June. I can’t raise these children alone. He then said, when you told them what you were going to do, it was so sudden and unplanned that he admits he exploded. But he knows now he has to trust that the girl he’s raised can make good decisions.”
Bennett’s gaze returned to hers, and she read in it all the things he hadn’t said. He needed her for more than feeding June; he needed her for himself. Had her father know
n that’s what he meant? Maybe or maybe not. Clearly, Bennett wanted her to hear it though.
That thought worked two ways. She needed him as well. He made her feel worthwhile again, because of the children, but also because she saw not every man was like Cale. How did two people with so much baggage move on from here? She heard the answer in her head, but was unsure of its exact meaning.
By taking a huge leap.
CHAPTER 7
Audrey toted June upstairs, not looking behind her. Taking a seat in the nursery rocker, she unbuttoned her blouse, loosened her bra, and nestled June against her chest. The baby rooted for a moment, then latched on, and the familiar rush of fluid, stung beneath Audrey’s skin.
Moments later, incredibly content, she reclined, one finger in June’s tight grasp.
Her mom had been right on day one. June wasn’t hers, but she wouldn’t trade these moments for anything. To give life meant everything.
“You’re greedy tonight,” she said, cupping the baby’s downy head. “Maybe you’ll sleep past four for once. You think?” Then again, though she longed for uninterrupted rest, she’d miss the quiet time. She was always better for spending those moments alone with June, whereas much of nursing August had been stained by painfully fresh memories of Cale’s behavior.
The baby cooed softly, her body soon warm and pliable. Eyes closing, Audrey became lost in thought.
Taking care of June had become her salvation in many ways. She’d needed to know that motherhood during these first few months could be rich and sweet and fulfilling. With August, always in her head, she’d heard Cale’s negative remarks. Didn’t she know what pregnancy would do to her? She wouldn’t be attractive anymore. No longer his trophy, but his mistake.
As a result, she’d nitpicked at everything, every blemish, the stretchmarks, the sag to her breasts. Her weight wasn’t what it should be, her waistline too thick. Even her face … she’d thought her cheeks too florid, the circles beneath her eyes more pronounced. All of that had to be why he’d rejected her, right?
Words From The Heart (Spring-Summer Romance Book 2) Page 6