Mark’s chin turned to look at her, his eyes wide. “Braden?” he mouthed.
Alex looked at the boy directly behind his father. “Green? What did you see that’s green, Braden? I missed it.”
The child looked down as if embarrassed by his outburst.
“That spiky plant back there,” Luca supplied pointing over his shoulder. “I can’t remember the name. I saw it, too, but I didn’t think about the color. That was good, Braden.”
Moisture welled up in her eyes and she quickly turned back around. She didn’t want to make either child feel awkward. “Excellent,” she said, her throat tight. “You guys are really terrific at this game, but I think we should quit now because here’s the entrance to the park. We can do the last letters on the way home, okay?”
Besides, any answer now would be an anticlimax. Braden had spoken. But more than that, he’d participated. That was something to shout about.
Not that she did, of course, but fifteen minutes later—once the boys were far enough ahead of her and Mark to be out of earshot—she said, “That was so cool.”
“I know, except I almost drove off the road.”
“I’ve noticed him watching more actively all week. He doesn’t actually participate in the games the other children are playing, but his gaze lingers, and sometimes he’ll lean closer to Maya when she’s showing him something. She’s pretty much adopted him as her pet project.”
“She’s a cutie. Looks a lot like her aunt.”
Alex blushed, but she was sure the chilly wind had added enough color to her cheeks to cover it. “Maya’s mother wants to move her to a preschool that’s closer to their new home, but Maya isn’t having anything to do with that. She’s a very determined little girl.” She shrugged. “Which could be a good thing for Braden.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, he’s used to having teachers working with him, asking things of him, but Maya is different. She treats him like her equal, even though he never says a word. Most of the time she answers for him, as if she’s reading his mind.”
Mark swerved slightly. “Can she do that? Read his mind? I mean, she’s got the right blood for it.”
Alex made a flip-flop motion with her hand. “She’s an intuitive little girl, there’s no question of that, but we’ve never seen any real psychic abilities. Not like Grace and Mom.”
“Grace?”
She told him the story of Grace’s precognition that someone was going to be shot and how she put herself in harm’s way to protect Nikolai—her “prince.”
“I heard a little bit of that story from Zeke, but he’s not exactly a gossip.”
“You know he’s dating my mother, right?”
“Uh-huh. How does the family feel about that?”
“For the most part, we like him, and we’re glad Mom’s moving on with her life, but…”
“He’s a gaujo cop. Like me.”
She frowned. Was that bitterness she heard in his use of the word for “non-Romani”? Mark’s job had only been part of the reason her father had been so against his marrying Alex. Ernst had worried about what effect Mark’s unhappy childhood would have on his ability to be a good husband and father. At the time, Alex had taken Mark’s side without reservation, but after their breakup she’d seen that maybe her father had been right.
“Deep down I think Mark knew he could never live up to your expectations, Alex,” her father had said, trying to comfort her. “You’re better off without him.”
Anger and hurt had reinforced that sentiment, and for years, her private mantra had been: “I’m better off without him.” She still believed that. Didn’t she?
Alex put the question from her mind. “Actually, Grace is marrying a cop. He’s part Rom, but he’s not exactly jumping for joy about that. So, I don’t think Zeke’s blood-line is the problem.”
“But you still have reservations. I can sense your hesitation. What don’t you like about him? Zeke’s a helluva guy. I’d trust him with my life.”
“It’s not that I don’t like him, but he’s been single a long time. His children live in another state and he hasn’t had a lot to do with them over the years. I’m not sure he’s ready for all the…um…baggage Mom brings to the equation. Four daughters. One new son-in-law and two more in the wings. Plus the Romani clan, in general. We’re a handful.”
He chuckled. “That you are, but to be honest, I never felt more included in any group than when we were together. Except where your dad was concerned.” He cleared his throat and added, “Regardless, I was real sorry to hear about his passing. The Gypsy King was one of a kind.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. She still missed her father more than she could express. And being in Red Rocks was like playing in Ernst’s own personal backyard—the memories were everywhere.
“The boys seem to be getting along well,” Mark said, nodding with his chin at the two specks ahead of them.
“Fresh air and exercise are like superglue for kids. Bonds them together.”
“Even when one doesn’t talk?”
“He can ride. Fast. That speaks volumes.”
He smiled and looked at her. “I really like you, Alex.The person you’ve become. I always knew you’d be an amazing woman—you were when I met you, but now you’re even more.”
“And less,” she teased, poking her belly.
His gaze lingered. “Yes, you’ve changed in a lot of ways. I have to admit I miss your long hair, but this style suits you—very cheerful and fun.”
“Really?” She sat up and dashed her fingers through the wind-tossed locks. “I was going for suave and sexy. Just kidding,” she quickly added at his surprised look. “No fuss is the best thing where kids are concerned. Some days, you wind up with paint, modeling clay, sand, frosting and glue in your hair. Preschool…it can be a war zone.”
“Sounds like it. By the way, I um…might be having some time off in the near future, and I wondered if your parent volunteers include dads?”
“Of course, but since Braden only comes after school, there’s not as much opportunity for formal—”
He cut her off. “I didn’t mean just the hours that Bray is there. I asked his teacher about helping out in the classroom, and she wasn’t wild about the idea. Said the kids get distracted by the presence of a parent—particularly a male parent—in the room. But I’d really like to learn more about working with kids. I think it would be good for both of us—me and Braden.”
Both of us. Alex didn’t want to admit that her first thought had been her and Mark.
“Well, I can always use the help, but I’ve never had a parent offer to give up his vacation to work at my school.”
Mark looked ahead to make sure Braden wasn’t close enough to hear, then he told her, “I’m not talking vacation. They’ve reopened the case on Tracey’s death. A new source has come forth who claims I rigged a bomb that killed Tracey.”
“No,” she cried with a conviction that did his heart good. “That’s impossible. You wouldn’t do something like that.”
“The fire was intense—meth labs in and of themselves are extremely volatile. I wasn’t involved in the investigation—in fact, I was off on six weeks of personal leave while I took care of Braden, but I heard through the grapevine that the original investigation failed to turn up any kind of trigger device. This allegation wouldn’t have been taken seriously if the guy hadn’t named names. Mine. And Tracey’s.”
“That’s really upsetting. Just what you and Braden don’t need, right? Well, if you have some time off and need to fill it, you’re more than welcome at the Hippo. And if there’s anything I can do where Braden is concerned…”
“You could adopt him,” Mark tossed out. The thought hadn’t entered his mind until his ex-mother-in-law had called that morning. He was confident that his innocence would come out in the investigation, but he’d been a cop before he was an arson investigator and he knew that sometimes the facts could lead to the wrong con
clusion. If, by any chance, he was arrested, he had to have a plan set up that kept Braden from falling into Odessa’s hands.
Alex turned the handles of her bike too sharply and accidentally bumped into Mark’s front tire. He overcompensated and they nearly crashed, but his quick reflexes help bring them both to a stop without serious damage.
“Sorry,” she said. “I must have misunderstood. I thought you said I should…” Obviously she couldn’t bring herself to say the word.
“Adopt. I shouldn’t have just blurted that out. I apologize. That was stupid.”
“Explain what you mean then I’ll tell you if it was stupid or not.”
“Later. We should catch up with the boys.”
Alex gave him a stern look. “Now. They’ll realize we’re not behind them and come back. I want to know what you meant. Is there a chance you’re going to jail?”
“No. Well, I’m a suspect, but I’m not a murderer, and I don’t expect to be arrested. But anything could happen. And I just realized this morning that I haven’t made any plans for Braden, if something happened to me.”
Her frown didn’t abate in the least. “Doesn’t Tracey have a mother in the area?”
“Yes, but he’d be better off taking his chances as a ward of the court than with Odessa.”
She swallowed. “Do you say that because you dislike her or because she’s…?”
“A whack job. She screwed up her daughter, and I’m not about to let her get her hands on my son. I don’t trust her, Alex. You, I trust. You would always look after him with Braden’s best interests at heart. Of course, I have no right to ask you this, but you’d be my first choice as my son’s guardian. If it comes down to that.”
Chapter Seven
If it comes down to that.
The phrase was haunting Alex. She’d managed to keep from overreacting—well, except for nearly causing them to crash, when Mark had first made his suggestion. But, the idea had bounced around in her head the rest of the afternoon, and had even followed her home as she’d put away her bike, heated up some leftover soup and settled into a hot bath.
She’d agreed to let Mark’s son come to her after-school program. How could he possibly have made such a quantum leap in their relationship?
I like you, he’d said.
Much as she hated to admit it, she liked him, too. A part of her still wanted to fan the flame of her outrage, but too much time had passed to nurse that fire to life. She’d changed. Maybe she’d seen too many instances where hurt feelings led to furious battles that left wounded children struggling to pick up the pieces. Children like Braden.
Mark truly seemed to have become the man she’d always thought he was capable of being—smart, kind, generous of spirit. Except where his mother-in-law was concerned. Alex had been chilled by the look in Mark’s eyes when he’d spoken of Tracey’s mother.
Alex vaguely remembered hearing some mention of his partner’s troubled home life when Mark had been first assigned to work with the female rookie. One comment that stuck in Alex’s brain was Mark saying, “Tracey’s childhood makes mine look like an episode of Leave It To Beaver.”
From the little he’d told Alex, she’d gotten a pretty strong impression of his bleak childhood. Mark had gotten out as soon as possible and made a life for himself that didn’t include booze.
Tracey may have shared a similar past, but she hadn’t been able to make that leap to a healthier lifestyle. Instead, she’d developed a reputation as a partier, apparently following in her mother’s footsteps.
But none of that was Alex’s problem. Right?
She sank down a little lower in her oversize tub. Her oasis. One that didn’t normally include a phone. But Alex was expecting Grace’s call, so she’d carried her portable phone into the steamy room and set it on the counter beside the bath.
She moved her knees to send a wave of bubbles crashing over her collarbones. Heavenly. She wouldn’t think about today. About Braden. Or Mark.
The phone rang.
Keeping her eyes closed, she reached out and pushed the button to talk. “Are you done already? I was sure I had time for a bath.”
“Um…you’re in the tub?”
Mark. Alex’s eyes flew open and she sat up, sending a second wave crashing over her toes.
“If I remember correctly, that’s a two-person tub.”
“Uh…I…was expecting Grace to call. We’re going for ice cream after she gets done hostessing at Romantique. I thought a hot soak would do my aching muscles some good.” She was talking too fast. Saying too much. She didn’t owe him any explanations. “Why did you call?”
“To apologize. I shouldn’t have said anything today about my situation. This isn’t your problem, and I’m sorry for laying my fears on your doorstep. I was mostly thinking out loud. Worst-case scenarios and all that. Braden’s grandmother called earlier today, and I overreacted.”
But that was part of the problem, she thought. Mark didn’t overreact. He’d grown up under the thumb of a man who made tearing the newspaper a major crime. Mark rarely said something he didn’t mean. Which meant…
“I’m not the person you think I am, Mark. I’m a good preschool teacher, but I’m the first to admit that there’s a huge difference between teaching and parenting.”
His soft chuckle was almost as warm and soothing as the bathwater. “Oh, Alex, you’re going to be the world’s best mother someday and you know it. Any child would be blessed to have you in his or her life.”
She was tempted to tell him about her plan, but she suddenly felt shy and nervous. This was Mark. The man who should have been, could have been, the father of her child. “Parenting skills aside, you do realize that asking me to be Tracey’s son’s guardian isn’t exactly politically correct, don’t you?”
“Like I said, I wasn’t thinking about the why-nots, only the whys. And the main reason why you’d be my first choice is that you’re you. But, I want you to forget about it. I’m not going to assume that the worst will happen. I didn’t do anything wrong, and, corny as it sounds, justice will prevail.”
She sincerely hoped so.
“Now, about that bath. Are there bubbles?”
She laughed and eased back into the still-warm water. “Yes. Lilac scented. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“Lots of bubbles? Or patches that might give an observer a glimpse of body parts? I used to love to watch you bathe. You turned soaking into an art form. But my favorite part was when you picked up the bar of soap because I knew that would kill off the bubbles faster.”
“You watched me bathe?” She tried to sound outraged, but really was a little turned on.
“Oh…yeah, whenever possible. Remember our apartment? There was a full-length mirror on the outside of the bathroom door. If you left the door open, I had a pretty good view of the tub.”
She gulped and moved an island of bubbles over her breasts. “Isn’t that against the law?”
His chuckle went low in her belly. She wiggled her hips. “I always figured you knew. Surely, you suspected. I mean, whenever you got out of the tub, I was right there on the bed, ready and willing, if you get my drift.”
She remembered. They’d loved each other with the careless passion of the young—believing they’d always have the next day and the next.
“I thought you were just a horny boy.”
His bark of laughter made her smile.
“And I thought you were a Gypsy enchantress. It got to the point where all you had to do was turn on the faucet, and I got hard.”
The frankness surprised her. And excited her. “Are you hard now?” she asked before she could stop herself.
He didn’t answer right away. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I am. If I close my eyes, I can see you in the water. Languid, but in a sexy, wanton way.”
Her pulse quickened. She could picture him all too clearly, too. Eight years apart, but she remembered just what he looked like naked. Beautiful. Powerful. No one had ever been able to satisfy her
the way Mark had.
“If you inhale, your breasts come out of the water, don’t they?” he asked, drawing in an audible breath.
Alex looked down through half-open eyes. Her nipples, hard and deep red, pierced the bubbles. “Yes,” she whispered.
“And if you lift your hips, just a little—”
Beep.
“Just a little, your dark, wet curls will—”
Beep.
“Damn,” he swore. “I hate call-waiting.”
Alex started to laugh—a laugh that partly released the sexual tension she had no business feeling. Good grief, she was having phone sex with a client. Which made her sound like a hooker. “Mark, I have to go. This is Grace and you know Grace. She doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
“I remember. But, are we okay about what happened today?”
“Sure. Of course. I gotta go. Bye.”
Were they really? She wasn’t sure. Things were changing between them. Too fast. And she didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. Her instincts said, Not. But her instincts had been wrong before. Wrong about Mark.
MARK WASN’T SURPRISED TO FIND that he couldn’t go to sleep. He was a wreck—restless, wired and horny as hell. That little episode on the phone with Alex had been a huge mistake. He shot a look at his groin. A cold shower had helped, but crawling into his king-size bed with icy sheets and too much room seemed like the final insult to a really crappy day.
There had been good moments—great moments, like hearing his son speak with barely a stutter, but then he’d blown it with Alex. “Gee, Alex, you’re a teacher. You’re good with kids. Would you like to adopt mine if I get tossed in jail?” he muttered under his breath.
He flipped to his side and punched his pillow. “What a jerk. Not surprising that she’d nearly driven her bike off a cliff.”
An exaggeration. Her front wheel had rammed his bike, instead, but she could have turned right and gone over a steep embankment. A bent spoke was nothing compared to a cross-country crash—rocks, cactus and a potential concussion. As his imagination ran with the image, his stomach started to churn.
Tossing back the covers, he jumped out of bed. His flannel pajama bottoms—a new addition to his wardrobe since becoming a full-time dad—rode low on his hips. He walked into the adjoining bath—an apartment-size cubicle not anything like the room he remembered seeing when he and Alex had been house hunting.
The Quiet Child Page 7