by Janice Lynn
Did he have any right to expect her to compromise her values to give a lost man like him a chance at redemption?
Midnight had come and long gone when Reesee and Blair returned from Birmingham. Despite the late hour, energized excitement flowed through Blair’s veins. The concert had been fabulous. Their seats had been close enough to feel as if they could reach out and touch “The Boss.”
They’d certainly given it their best shot.
Blair pulled out her cell phone to call Oz.
“She’s fine,” Reesee insisted before Blair had punched the first number. “Oz said to leave her with him rather than dragging her out in the middle of the night. Do it.”
Blair shook her head. She’d never spent the night away from her daughter. Never.
“I don’t want her to be a bother.”
Her sister snorted. “Most likely she’s been asleep for hours. You’ll only wake her and Oz if you call. Besides, she’s not a bother. Dr Talbot adores her and apparently Oz does, too.” Reesee looked at her from the passenger seat. “What gives? You two an item?”
Careful to keep her eyes on the road, Blair shook her head. “We’re just friends.”
“Right,” Reesee responded with a healthy dose of sisterly sarcasm. “Friends.”
“We are.”
“Uh-huh. Sure you are,” Reesee teased. “Have you kissed him?”
Blair stared straight ahead.
Scooting forward in her seat as far as her safety belt would allow, Reesee squealed in glee. “Omigosh, you have. You’ve kissed Oz. That’s wonderful.”
“No,” Blair denied, wanting to tell her sister everything and yet afraid to give voice to the burgeoning emotions threatening to burst her chest when she thought of Oz. “It isn’t.”
“Why not? You’ve been single too long and Oz seems like a nice enough guy.”
“How can you say that? Before tonight, you’d never even met him.”
“If you’d invite him over we could fix my not knowing him very well.” Reesee twisted farther in her seat to stare at Blair. “You have to admit he’s great with Dr Talbot, great with Addy, and it’s obvious you like him.”
Reesee was right. Blair did like him.
After all her huff and puff, she’d fallen for him.
Fallen in a not just friends way.
Which scared her.
If she was going to fall, Oz wasn’t the kind of man she should fall for. A known heartbreaker. A man who women threw themselves at. A man who was a natural flirt. A man who’d be the first to admit he was commitment-phobic and enjoyed playing the field.
“There’s nothing between us.”
“Maybe you should remedy that, too, because there should be.”
Blair shot her sister a scowl.
“It’s been six years since Chris died. You’ve locked your heart away and I understand that. Sort of. But if you like Oz, why not give the guy a chance?”
“Oz isn’t the kind of man who goes for relationships,” Blair admitted, knowing she spoke the truth.
Her sister shrugged as if it were a no-brainer. “Then why not have a whatever he does go for?”
“Reesee Pendergrass!” Blair almost swerved the car off the road. “I can’t believe you said that.”
Her sister snickered. “Why? Because I’m still a child in your eyes? Sorry, sis, but nineteen is old enough to know you’re lonely.”
“I’m not lonely. I have you and Addy. And Dr Talbot.”
“It’s not the same as having a man in your life. You’re young, Blair. Gorgeous, smart, witty. You’re a fabulous mom to Addy, but it’s okay for you to live a little, too.”
“But…” Blair stopped.
She didn’t want to give voice to what she’d been about to say.
But she might get hurt.
Was she so afraid of being hurt again that she’d locked her heart away? That she’d refused to acknowledge Oz as anything more than a friend despite knowing the electricity zapping between them was more than just friendly?
Was fear why she’d avoided him for years, telling herself she was avoiding him because she didn’t like him, that he was like Chris?
If so, what did that say about her?
And just how far was she willing to go to confront that fear?
Blair dropped Reesee off at their apartment. Despite her sister’s assurances that Addy was fine or Oz would have called, Blair insisted upon going to Dr Talbot’s. Perhaps she was overly protective, but she couldn’t bear the thought of not kissing Addy good-night. What if she woke during the night and Blair wasn’t there?
She’d go to Dr Talbot’s, check on Addy, then crawl into bed beside her daughter. Just the thought of curling up next to her warm little body, breathing in her baby shampoo scent, made Blair smile.
Going had nothing to do with Oz. Nothing to do with her realization that she’d been afraid of feeling the things he made her feel. Nothing.
Using the key Dr Talbot had given her months ago, Blair let herself into the beach house. Setting her bag onto the table in the hallway, she snuck up the stairs as quietly as she could.
Addy would be in what her daughter called the “mermaid room.” The mythically decorated room was where she and Blair always slept when they stayed over—something they’d not done since Oz had moved in.
The door stood open. Blair peeped inside. The ceramic mermaid on a rock lamp on the bedside table cast a soft glow on the pastel blue walls. On the bed, Oz lay on top of the covers with Addy beneath the covers, snoring softly and curled into the crook of his arm. She looked completely relaxed, at peace. Oz’s chest rose and fell in even breaths.
Longing caught flame in Blair’s belly, spreading warmth throughout her body, filling her with wants she’d long denied, wants that involved Addy having a father, someone to love her and care for her the way Blair did.
Chris had died before Blair had known of Addy’s existence, but during her pregnancy she’d still dreamed of her daughter having a family. One that involved a mommy and a daddy.
She hadn’t dreamed of that in years, had been content with the life they’d forged.
But she’d never witnessed her little girl tucked safely in a man’s arms.
They looked…content.
As if they belonged together.
As if they belonged in Blair’s dreams.
Her daughter had grown to care so much for Oz and the feeling was mutual.
Moisture pricked Blair’s eyes, blurring her vision.
Reesee had been right. Addy was fine. Oz had taken good care of her. She should have trusted him, should have known he’d look out for her daughter, just as he looked out for Dr Talbot.
Despite what she’d thought she knew about him, Oz Manning was a good man.
One Dr Talbot trusted completely.
One Addy trusted completely.
One who deserved Blair’s trust.
For the first time in years, Blair found herself wanting to give that trust and see if it might grow into something more.
Not wanting to disturb them, she flicked off the lamp light, turned the night-light on and pushed the door almost closed. She’d sleep on the sofa.
She’d barely made it back down the stairs before a heavy-eyed Oz appeared.
“I didn’t know you were here.” He sat close to her on the sofa, raking his fingers through his golden hair. “Or that you were planning to come here tonight.” His gaze dropped to her concert T-shirt and he gave a sleepy grin. “How was the concert?”
Unable to suppress her pleasure at seeing him, Blair told him, enthusing over the performance and how she and Reesee had danced and sung along.
“Sounds like you had fun. I’m glad you went.” He leaned his head back against the sofa, yawning. “Your daughter is something else, Blair.”
“Yes, she is.” Had she just slid closer to him? “She’s the most precious part of my life. Did she give you any problems?”
“Only that she’s smart as a whip and kept me on my to
es. I swear nothing slips past her.” Rubbing his hand over his face, he stretched and Blair slid another inch his way. “She soaked in every word, everything I said and did tonight.”
Blair nodded. Addy was a sponge. “I’m amazed at how smart she is.”
Hair ruffled, eyelids heavy with recent sleep, he grinned. “Not that you’re biased.”
“Just a little.” His body heat lured her to curl into his arms the way her daughter had been. “I worry I’m somehow not giving her everything she needs and she’s going to suffer for it. I try so hard to be all she needs.”
Oz wrapped his arm around her and hugged her close. “You do a great job.”
Oh, heaven. His arms felt so good. His solid chest beneath her cheek felt even better.
She snuggled closer, slipping her arm between the sofa and his lower back. She pressed her palm into the curve of his back, felt the coiled strength in his muscles. “I often wonder.”
“Being a single parent can’t be easy. Hell, being a parent period isn’t easy, single or otherwise.” His fingers traced over her free arm. “You shouldn’t have to do this alone, Blair.”
“Addy’s father died before she was born.” She gave the same answer she’d been giving for years, the same answer she gave to anyone who asked. Giving that answer to Oz seemed inadequate.
“What happened?”
Blair moistened her lips. She suspected Oz knew Addy’s father had died. “Chris died about a month before I found out I was pregnant with Addy.”
“How did he die?”
Blair’s throat tightened. She didn’t want to talk about Chris. Not with Oz. Not with anyone. She’d never spoken of what had happened. Not ever.
She wasn’t sure she could.
Blair rubbed her cheek against the comfort she found in Oz’s arms, praying she’d somehow absorb his strength. “He had an accident.”
Oz’s hold on Blair tightened. He hadn’t a right to ask about Addy’s father, but the question had slipped out. He blamed his slip on the dream he’d awakened from. A dream where he and Blair were a family with Addy. Where he’d been Addy’s father. Blair had been his wife. He should look at the dream as a nightmare, but instead a warm, fuzzy nostalgia had turned his brain to cotton.
Probably he was still half-asleep, and in the light of the day he’d cringe, face life’s realities.
He wasn’t a permanent part of Blair’s life. He had no right to know the intimate details of her past.
But he wanted to know.
He wanted to know everything about her. Every little detail that made her tick. Every little detail of the man whom she’d once loved so he could figure out what had made the guy worthy of her love, worthy of the precious little girl sleeping upstairs.
“He went sailing.” Blair’s voice was barely above a whisper.
Sailing? Foreboding filled Oz. He’d never heard how Chris had died, had never known any of the details.
Sailing?
Oh, hell.
He’d taken Addy sailing, had let her hold the wheel as they’d watched the sunset. She’d seemed thrilled by the trip. He hadn’t seen any signs of grief or fear, but hell, what did he know about kids? Other than Addy, he hadn’t spent time around anyone underage since he was underage.
Then again, her father had died before she was born.
“There were warnings of an incoming storm, but that never stopped Chris. He thought he was invincible.” She drew in a deep breath, appeared torn with memories. “He responded to another ship’s distress flare. He was trying to get the family moved over to his boat, but the two kids ended up in the water. The waves had gotten high. The wind was nasty. Even with their life jackets, they didn’t stand a chance of making it back to the boat. Chris went in after them.” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, opened them and continued. “He managed to get one of the kids, a little boy, to his boat, where his parents were able to lift him to safety.” She shuddered. “Chris and the girl didn’t make it. There wasn’t anything anyone could do.”
He wrapped his arm tighter around her, kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry, Blair.”
Her pain was palpable.
The man had died saving a kid’s life and trying to save another.
“He died a hero.” No wonder Blair had loved him.
“A hero.” Blair’s lips pursed. “Yes, Chris died a hero.”
The way she said the words made Oz think there was more to the story than what Blair was saying. But he wouldn’t push. Not with her already looking so exposed, with her body trembling against him.
“He wasn’t alone on his sailboat.”
“Not alone?”
“He was with his wife,” she confessed in a hoarse whisper.
Oz pulled back, staring at her in surprise. “His wife?”
“Yes.”
“Addy’s father was married?” Surely he’d somehow misunderstood? “You were having an affair with a married man?”
That didn’t fit with his image of Blair. Didn’t fit with the image she’d painted of Addy’s father.
Tense against him, Blair nodded. “I know that makes me a bad person. I’ve never denied that. But I honestly believed he was divorced.” She swallowed hard. “He wasn’t. When he died, I was devastated. I’m not sure which hurt the most—that he was gone or that he’d been lying to me all along. I loved him so much I thought I wanted to die, too.”
He held her, let her take her time before continuing.
“Like a fool, I went to his funeral. His wife publicly humiliated me in front of his friends and family. His wife.” She spat the words from her pursed lips. “She denied me the right to attend Chris’s funeral. I only wanted to say goodbye. When I broke down, she…” Blair quit speaking, buried her face in her hands. “She had the right to send me away. I know she did, that she was hurting, and I shouldn’t have gone. I understand that now.”
Oz had no right to judge her. Addy’s father was another story altogether. The man’s dishonesty had put the women in his life in a horrible situation. His wife and Blair. “Of course you wanted to pay your last respects to his memory. That was only natural, Blair.”
She wiped at her eyes. “Later, when I discovered my pregnancy, I told his parents. I’d never met them outside of that day at the funeral, but Chris was an only child. I thought they had a right to know.” Raw pain bled from every word. “They told me they wanted nothing to do with me—” Blair’s voice broke “—or my bastard child.”
Oh, hell. Oz’s fingers curled into a fist. How could anyone have been so cruel? Especially when they were talking about the child of their recently killed son? Their grandchild?
When they were talking about Blair’s child?
“I think they were worried I planned to go after child support.” Blair wiped at her eyes.
“They were idiots,” Oz assured her. “Addy is a beautiful child, inside and out. Any man would be proud to call her his kid.”
She looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Would Chris have?”
Vulnerability bled from her soft question. Vulnerability that hinted at a need for validation, a need to know that she wasn’t the bad person she’d been cast.
“He hadn’t divorced his wife. He’d told me he was divorced, Oz, that he loved me. I was in love with him, and I was nothing more than a booty call.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I do.” Blair gave an embittered laugh. “If I’d been the only one, I might believe he loved me, that he’d have really filed for divorce when he discovered my pregnancy.” She looked away, clearly embarrassed. “I wasn’t. According to his wife, he had several women on the side, but they had enough class not to show up at his funeral.” She sniffled. “I don’t know how many, just that I wasn’t anything special.”
“He was an idiot.” A complete and total idiot. How could a man have Blair’s love and cheat on her? If Blair loved him, he’d…Hold up. What was he thinking?
He wouldn’t do anything.
Bec
ause he didn’t do love.
Didn’t do commitment.
He also didn’t deceive women the way Addy’s father had deceived Blair.
“I’m sorry he hurt you.”
“Me, too.” She forced a smile to her face. “His betrayal destroyed my feelings for him, but no matter how hurt I was, I can’t regret what happened. Without Chris, I wouldn’t have Addy. She’s worth everything.”
Oz had the uncanny desire to pound his fist into Chris’s face, into Chris’s parents’ faces. Into anyone’s face who hurt Blair.
She was the most decent person he knew and that decency had been trampled on. She’d been through so much, yet, even now, she’d wiped away her tears and wore a smile on her lovely face. She saw the silver lining in her pain, cherished the little girl who must be a constant reminder of everything she’d been through.
“You’re an amazing woman, Blair.” Oz hugged her, kissed the top of her head. “Amazing.”
“I’ve never told anyone.” She looked at him in awe. Looked at him in a way that made him feel like puffing out his chest and strutting around like some crazy bird doing a mating ritual.
“Not even Reesee or Dr Talbot. They probably figured a lot of it out on their own, but I’ve never told anyone.” She laughed a little self-consciously. “I thought admitting to what Chris had done would be hard, that I’d be embarrassed at how foolish I was to believe his lies.” She placed her palm against Oz’s face, stared at him with a sparkle in her eyes that made him feel like a bug under a magnifying glass.
A sparkle—he didn’t know how else to describe the way she looked at him. Her eyes glittered like multifaceted emeralds.
“But I don’t.” She caressed his cheek. “Not with you.”
Oz tried not to wince, wasn’t sure he was successful.
More than anything, he didn’t want to hurt Blair the way Addy’s father had.
He’d rather end things now than add to the heavy burden her heart carried, thanks to the jerk she’d once fallen in love with.