by Megan Kelly
“Let me check my calendar about Saturday,” her dad said. “I think I have something scheduled, but we’d like to come.”
“Are you planning on a big family, too?” her mom asked.
Tara bumped back to Earth. She wouldn’t be having any children with Dylan, unless they’d already conceived a baby. They’d agreed this morning was the last time.
He looked at her, then smiled softly. “We haven’t made any plans for babies yet.”
“They don’t always wait to be planned,” her mother said, then covered her mouth, eyes stricken with remorse. “I didn’t mean that as a dig, Tara.”
“I know, Mom.” She couldn’t help but think about making love with Dylan the night before and early that morning. Neither time had they used birth control. Was that a Freudian slip on her part—did she want a baby?
Good grief, no. Not now, not in the middle of a custody battle for her son, while consoling her grief-ridden temporary stepdaughter, and married to a man who didn’t love her. The very idea caused more hysterical laughter to bubble in her throat. This would be the worst time to get pregnant.
Dylan brought the children back in, and Tara watched her parents play with them for a few minutes. She’d despaired of ever reuniting with her folks, of ever sharing the miracle of Jimmy’s existence with them. The sight warmed her heart.
When it registered that Jimmy was whispering to Lily, Tara frowned. Was this a new game? She didn’t much like it.
Lily inched over and crawled onto her lap, taking Tara’s face between her hands. “Are you really my stepmother?”
Tara nodded, holding her breath.
Lily’s tilted her head in consideration. “But you’re not wicked. Is that ’cause you don’t have no girls like Cinderella’s stepmother had?”
“No.” She rubbed her nose against Lily’s. “It’s because I love you and would never be mean to you.”
“Thought so.” Lily gave her a loud smooch and scrambled back down. “Can we have ice cream?”
Tara narrowed her eyes. Was her claim of niceness being tested? The angelic smile on Lily’s face reminded her of Caitlyn and Christopher.
Which made her laugh with genuine amusement.
She couldn’t have been happier at that moment. Her estranged parents were in her home, and the children she loved and the sexy man who wanted to be her lover surrounded her. She paused. Okay, if the man felt more than lust for her, she’d be a lot happier, but for the moment, she’d settle for near-bliss. It was enough.
Then the phone rang.
She jerked as though stuck with a pin. Her gaze collided with Dylan’s. “I forgot about Jay coming to get me.”
“What are you talking about?” her father asked.
“I was going to talk to him about approaching his parents and asking them to back off. I didn’t know he’d gone to see you.”
The phone rang again.
“We didn’t give him anything.”
“I know that, Dad. If he offered his parents the same deal, though, siding with them for custody, they’d give him any amount.”
“And he’d sign anything for money,” her mom said, surprising Tara with her insight into Jay’s character. When she was dating him, her parents thought he’d planted the moon with green cheese. No doubt they’d envisioned a Montgomery-Summerfield merger when they married.
Dylan picked up the phone on the fifth ring. “Ross residence.”
Tara smiled.
“Yes, she’s here. Wait, let me check.” He moved the phone away from his face. “Honey, did you still plan to meet your old ex-boyfriend tonight?”
Tara shook her head at Dylan. “Behave.”
Her dad grinned and caught her arm as she rose. “If you think paying him off would help, we’ll loan you the money. We’ll give you the money.”
“Thanks, Dad.” She bent to kiss his cheek. “Let me see what he wants first.”
“I doubt that’s any secret.”
Dylan’s mouth twisted. “We’re in perfect agreement there. Money and Tara.”
“And probably in that order,” Tara said.
Dylan shook his head. “Clueless about her beauty.”
“Always was,” her dad said.
“You’re the clueless one,” her mom corrected. “That girl used her looks like a fisherman uses stink bait.”
The men hooted with laughter, making the children stare.
“Gee, thanks, Mom.”
Her father handed her a blank check. “Fill in the amount he wants if he agrees to leave town.”
“Dad—”
“Or do you want me to go with you to talk to him?”
“I was going to offer the same thing,” Dylan put in with a wolfish grin.
“Down, boys. I won’t be able to negotiate with him at all if you’re around.”
“You want a woman’s touch?” her mom asked. “You never know what two persuasive Montgomery women can accomplish working together.”
The men exchanged a glance and groaned as if contemplating a horrific future.
Tara smiled at her mom. “I’d bet we could reduce him to whimpers. Thank you, all of you. But no. I need his cooperation, which means no intimidation. At least not right now.”
“You just let us know when,” her dad said, his leer resembling the sharklike qualities his financial opponents would recognize.
She took the phone from Dylan and turned her back on the room, feeling their eyes bore into her as she arranged to meet Jay in half an hour. Him waiting in the bar of his hotel wouldn’t be a hardship. She only hoped he didn’t expect her to pick up his drink tab. The check from her father, should she decide to use it, would be coercion enough. She hoped.
She rushed through tearful goodbyes and hurried her parents along, pausing only long enough for a quick kiss to the children before running out the door.
Dylan glowered but didn’t say anything. Being supportive was going to kill him.
THE BIRTHDAY PARTY on Saturday went swimmingly, especially as Adam had opened up their five-foot-deep pool the week before, after the wedding. The Ross men took turns lifeguarding after Adam assessed Jimmy’s and Lily’s water skills. The two of them hung out in the shallow, three-foot-deep water with the twins. All the kids splashed and screamed while the parents enjoyed cold drinks in the shade. Bright sunshine raised the afternoon temperature into the nineties, and humidity had everyone seeking relief.
Tara’s parents dropped in for ten minutes, barely long enough for introductions. “We brought this for Lily.”
The birthday girl extended her hand as though she expected to be bitten by a wild dog. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, honey,” Tara’s mom said. She glanced at Tara. “It’s okay if she doesn’t open it before we leave. We don’t want to put any pressure on her.”
Tara frowned as her mom walked over to talk to Betty. Her dad watched Adam at the grill, seemingly interested in the process.
“What’s wrong?” Dylan asked at her side.
“Who is this incredibly sensitive woman, and what has she done with Janine Montgomery?
He swatted her behind, grinning. “What is it you’re always telling me? Behave.”
Aware of their audience, she winked at him. “Glad you’re listening.”
Her dad appeared from behind her, with her mother coming a few seconds after. Had her very proper parents witnessed Dylan’s playfulness? What would they make of it?
“What came of your meeting with Jay?” her dad asked.
Tara grimaced. “He’s being cagey. Said he wanted to ‘support’ his parents, in the hope of reuniting.”
“Humph.” Her dad scowled. “You think he’s sincere about this heartfelt family reunion, or does he just want to convince them to reverse his disinheritance?”
“Hard to tell. Maybe both.”
“He definitely wants money, though,” Dylan said. “From somebody.”
She nodded.
“Problem is,” her dad put in, “a check from me is a finit
e amount. But access to the Summerfield billions? He’ll angle for that if he has any sense.”
“Which is up for debate,” her mom said.
“Did you try to talk to his mom?” Tara asked.
Janine pursed her lips. “Marnie wants to reconcile with her son. I know how that is, so I didn’t push her on the matter.”
Tara slid an arm around her mom’s waist, still coming to terms with her parents being back in her life.
“Besides,” her mom continued, “Marnie does whatever Albert wants.”
“So it’s wait and see?” her dad said.
“Looks like it,” Tara replied.
“Okay, keep us posted. I’m sorry we can’t stay.”
“We understand, Barry,” Dylan said, extending his hand.
The grown-ups said their goodbyes while the children waved from the pool.
Dylan squeezed her waist as they waved goodbye to the retreating car. “I’m glad they came.”
She nodded. “If only we could limit all their visits to half an hour or less.”
His cell phone vibrated in the clip on his belt and he stepped away to take the call. Tara wondered how long it would take for all of his ex-girlfriends to learn of their marriage. Would knowing stop them from calling? He still visited his condo, she knew, because every once in a while something showed up at her house from there. Not that she suspected him of cheating on her. But Dylan maintaining these ties to his bachelorhood confirmed what she sensed—part of him still longed to be free.
Adam joked with Dylan about which one of them was the real grill master in the family and which should watch the kids in the pool, but his smile never reached his eyes. He darted glances at Anne, sitting in the shade, watching the children.
Betty leaned closer. “She has a headache she can’t shake. It’s day three.”
“Oh, my. Is she prone to migraines?”
The older woman shook her head. “No, which makes Adam worry more.”
“Has she seen a doctor?”
“She has an appointment Monday, but she wouldn’t hear of us canceling the party. I hope she goes to lie down after we eat.”
Tara watched them: the brothers with their easy camaraderie; the children with their own playgroup dynamics; the ailing woman being surreptitiously cared for by all the adults. The Ross family might be wild and crazy at times, but their love provided a strong bond. Tara envied them.
Dylan ribbed his brother while occasionally glancing over at Lily. Not as though he were anxious, but as if every once in a while he remembered to check. Tara couldn’t imagine not being alert to her son’s movements, but then she’d become a parent when Jimmy had relied on her totally and completely. As a baby, he literally would have died without her care and attention. So she tried to cut Dylan some slack, since he was just now learning to parent. It had only been a few weeks, after all.
Impatient with her judgmental attitude toward Dylan, she scowled at the chicken breast Adam placed on her plate.
“Something wrong?” he asked. He pinched at the chicken with the tongs. “I’ll get you a different piece.”
She raised her plate up and away, making it impossible for him to remove the chicken. “No, no, it’s fine.”
“I saw the face you made. It’s too charred, isn’t it?”
His gray-blue eyes reminded her of Dylan’s, except his were slightly darker. The brothers shared the same strong jawline and basic coloring, but Adam came off as more domesticated and less dangerous, even though his construction-worker’s body showed more prominent muscle. Dylan still looked like a playboy, an animal more wild than tame.
“It’s perfect,” she told him. “It wasn’t the chicken making me scowl.”
Unbidden, her gaze sought out Dylan.
“Ah. If you need me to knock him down for you, I’d be more than happy to.”
She gasped in surprise. “What?”
Adam’s eyes twinkled. “He’s been riding me all day about my cooking. I could use a good reason to take him on.”
“No,” Betty said, walking up just then. “No arm wrestling—or any other kind of wrestling—today. It’s a party.”
“Aw, Mom. That’s the best time.”
Betty swatted his backside. “You two have gotten taller, but I don’t think you’ll ever grow up.” She took Tara’s elbow and led her to a folding table laden with bowls of food.
Anne leaned close. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to eat that chicken. I made barbecued brisket last night.”
“Man,” Adam complained. “Burn the food one time and they never let you forget it.”
Tara smiled at their teasing. As far as she could tell, the chicken looked perfect, although brisket did sound marvelous. Her gaze landed on the dessert, an enormous cake with white frosting and pink flowers. Saliva pooled in her mouth. “That’s huge. Who made that?”
Betty’s face glowed with pride. “That’s my wagon cake.”
Tara frowned. Although rectangular, it wasn’t decorated as a wagon. “What is it?”
“It’s three layers, one each of chocolate, strawberry and white, and we’ll have Neapolitan ice cream with it. This way everyone gets a piece with a flavor they like.”
“I guess I’m just slow today. Why do you call it a wagon cake?”
Betty laughed. “My late husband used to say the cake was so big we had to have a station wagon to haul it around in, hence the name.”
Tara laughed and moved away from temptation, glad for the side dishes. She took bean salad, coleslaw, baby carrots and cut-up vegetables with a spoonful of dip on her plate, along with a little bit of brisket. She left just enough room for a scoop of the potato salad. She hadn’t grown up cooking and mastering a dish gave her immense pride.
“You should be able to find something you like,” Dylan said, appearing at her side. “You don’t have to eat that chicken.”
“He threatened to buy fried chicken,” Adam called out, “but I told him I’d bar the gate.”
“I should have,” Dylan shot back. “You burn yours.”
“It’s not burned. It’s just completely cooked.”
Tara shut out their voices, amused with their byplay but not interested in the content. She enjoyed watching them interact. This was what a family should be like. The Rosses would present a good model for Jimmy during the time she was married to Dylan.
Jane appeared at her side with a paper plate in hand. “I made the gelatin shapes. Mom did the hot water part, but I cut them out with cookie cutters after she said it was set hard enough.”
Tara helped herself to a blue dog and a red flower. “I love gelatin.”
Jane pointed to a bowl of multicolored gelatin pieces. “That’s the leftovers from around the edges. The boys like those best. Me and the girls like the pretty ones.”
Chris popped up on the other side of the table, surprising Tara. He grabbed a wiggly string of gelatin and tossed it in his mouth. “They taste the same.”
“Christopher,” his mother called. “Use a spoon.”
With a grin, he grabbed a spoon and scooped up some more wiggly pieces, then dumped the spoonful into his cupped palm. He slurped the wiggles into his mouth.
“Gross,” Jane declared.
“Christopher Andrew,” was all Adam said in his deep calm tone. The boy ran off, laughing.
When Betty called for the kids to wash up, Tara’s gaze flew to Caitlyn. Fortunately, the girl bypassed the garden hose. She trooped along toward the door behind the others, Lily’s hand secured in hers. Dylan met her gaze with laughter.
“Not interested in a shower today?” he asked, coming to straddle the bench beside Tara. She laughed.
“Dylan Alexander,” his mom exclaimed, “what a thing to say to a lady, especially your wife.”
She laughed, noting Dylan and Jimmy had the same middle name. The things a woman learned about her husband. “Don’t worry, Betty. It’s nothing as off-color as it sounded.”
“Well, that’s a first,” she muttered.
When the kids returned, Tara filled a plate for Jimmy, then located him sitting at a table with Brian, Paul and Christopher. Yikes, she thought with a smile. Her son was bonding with the second-generation boy terror. Just then, Jimmy grabbed a blue wormlike gelatin piece from Chris’s plate, tilted back his head and dropped it into his mouth. Dylan laughed, producing a proud smile on her son’s face.
They ate, had cake and opened presents, and the kids jumped back into the pool. Anne went to lie down in her room, needing the dark and the quiet.
Dylan pulled Tara aside for a moment. They stood in the kitchen, watching the family out the sliding glass door.
“What’s going on?” she asked. His air of determination while marching her inside gave her a bad feeling. “It’s pretty rude to leave the party when your brother and Anne were nice enough to let us throw it here.”
“Sneaking away in private is expected of newlyweds. Besides, I want to talk to you about something. And I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
Dread churned her stomach. Due to the chaos surrounding their lives, the possibilities were endless. “What?”
“Did you watch Lily with your parents? Did you see her interacting with my mom? Or when she opened the present Rose’s mom sent, how she looked to my mom?”
“Yeah, she seems a little less tentative around your mom now. Maybe her staying overnight with Betty was a good idea.”
“I think so, too.”
He looked at her as though letting the impact of his words register. Tara didn’t get it. So Lily was warming up to Betty. What about that did he think she wouldn’t like?
Bile and fear filled her throat. Oh, God, he wanted out of their marriage. He’d only needed her to calm down Lily at night and now Betty would be able to step in to manage that.
She closed her eyes, sick to her stomach. How could he do this, especially after making love to her? She felt exactly like she had when Jay had deserted her four years before.
“Grandparents mean a lot to kids,” Dylan said. “The more they have, the richer their lives are.”
Tara clamped her teeth together hard, trying to hold on to her composure. The more they have? What did this have to do with his leaving—unless she’d gotten that wrong? “You’ve lost me, Dylan. What are you trying to say?”