by Gina Wilkins
“And what about you, Tommy? Why did you marry her?”
“Because she needed me,” he answered simply.
That had always been such a powerful motivation for Tom. Taking care of his mother, looking out for his friends, choosing a career helping and rescuing people—Tom was a man who desperately needed to be needed. But in this case, she didn’t think he was telling her the entire story. Leslie wasn’t the only one who needed something from this marriage.
She decided not to push that point just yet. “Leslie told me that Leo Weiss has invited her to rejoin his firm,” she said, instead.
She watched the expression that crossed her son’s face, and silently analyzed it.
“Yeah,” Tom muttered. “She was really pleased by the call. It meant a lot to her that he had so much faith in her, even after she’d left him to take that job in Chicago. And even after she was fired by that firm.”
“Leo is a good man. I’ve known him for years. He realizes Leslie is a committed and competent woman and that the circumstances in Chicago were beyond her control.”
Tom suddenly looked at his mother with narrowed eyes. “You called him, didn’t you?”
She cleared her throat and busied herself with checking her utensils for spots. “I might have run into him a time or two lately.”
“And you just happened to mention that Leslie was back in town?”
“Of course I told him that you and Leslie were married now. That’s big news in our family.”
“And maybe you just happened to tell him the details of why she lost her job in Chicago?”
“Maybe I did,” she admitted.
“Damn it, Mom—”
“Why would you mind that?” she asked, going on the offensive. “It was obvious that Leslie’s confidence had been shaken by her experiences, and I knew Leo would understand how difficult it must have been for her to have to choose between her family and her career. Leo is a man who has always valued family over everything else, and he has nothing but respect for others who do the same. I certainly didn’t ask him to call Leslie and offer her a job. That was a choice he made on his own, and I’m sure he considers himself very fortunate to have her back on his team.”
“I’m sure he does.” Tom’s tone was unexpectedly grim.
Nina eyed him. “You don’t like it that Leslie’s going back to work.”
“Leslie is certainly free to work or not as she chooses,” he answered stiffly. “Although—”
“Although?”
“She’ll have to make arrangements for Kenny, of course. I’ve heard some horror stories about child-care workers. It’s certainly reasonable that I would have some concerns about whom she chooses.” He sounded as though he was trying to convince himself as much as her.
“Of course. But Leslie’s not going to leave that baby with anyone she hasn’t checked out thoroughly. Knowing Leslie, she’ll require a dozen references and an FBI background check.”
Tom didn’t smile at the exaggeration. “I would hope so.”
“Kenny will be fine, Tom. I had no choice but to use day care for you, since I was our only source of income, and you turned out very nicely.”
“That’s because I had such a nice mother,” he replied with a smile that looked genuine enough to satisfy her.
Their food arrived, and they concentrated on their meal for a few minutes. And then Tom spoke, sounding as if he were forcing the words out. “Have you, uh, heard from Steve lately?”
“He called last night,” she admitted, annoyed because she felt her cheeks warm in response to Steve’s name. “We talked for a while.”
Two hours, to be exact.
“Going to be seeing him again soon?”
“He’ll be spending the weekend here in town again.” She didn’t add that he was driving to Fayetteville that very evening. She would be seeing him in only a matter of hours, she thought with a quiver of anticipation.
Tom broke a potato chip in half with a snap. “He must be running up quite a hotel bill.”
Nina nearly choked on a bite of turkey-and-avocado sandwich. She reached hastily for her water, took a couple of swallows and changed the subject. “You won’t mind if Steve visits the baby sometime while he’s here, will you?”
Tom frowned at her, but shook his head. “Just give us a call first.”
“Of course.”
She wanted to ask him how he really felt about her seeing Steve. She wanted to know that nothing between her and Tom had changed during these past two momentous weeks. She wanted to ask if he loved Leslie as much as Nina suspected that he did, if he was as afraid of his feelings for Leslie as Nina was about the rapidly intensifying feelings she had for Steve. She wanted to know if her son was as confused and worried and excited and terrified as she was.
She asked him nothing. She wasn’t sure the words would penetrate that maddeningly frustrating invisible wall he’d slid between them at some point between the arrival of their food and his question about Steve.
It was going to take a major explosion to break through that wall that her son so often and so efficiently hid behind, she mused. She just wasn’t sure she had the right ammunition to get through.
She wondered if Leslie held the only key. Or if Leslie even knew Tom well enough to be aware of the wall’s existence.
Lunch with his mother had not left Tom feeling particularly good about himself. In fact, he felt like a first-class jerk, he decided as he drove home later that afternoon.
He was obviously a very selfish man. Instead of being pleased for Leslie’s sake that she’d been offered a position in the career she loved, he worried that her job would come between them. Would change the pleasant routines they’d established during their two short weeks of marriage.
Instead of being happy that Nina had someone new in her life, he was being jealous and inconsiderate, much like a small boy who didn’t like sharing his mommy’s full attention. He could try to convince himself that he was only being concerned for his mother’s well-being, that he worried that she would be hurt or disappointed, that Steve Pendleton was using her for some reason of his own—but the truth was, Tom just didn’t like the possibility that someone else would take his place in his mother’s heart. Even though he knew full well that Nina would always love him.
His friends would hardly treat him like “Saint Tom” if they knew how petty and possessive he really was, he thought, squirming uncomfortably in the driver’s seat.
He parked in his carport and swung his legs out of the vehicle. He winced when his back spasmed in protest of his abrupt, twisting movement.
Leslie had married herself a real winner, he thought morosely. He was aware that he was sinking into self-pity, but he wasn’t able to shrug it off. He made an effort to mask his mood as he entered his house.
Leslie had been cleaning again. The place practically sparkled, and the smell of cleaners was just detectable beneath the sweeter fragrance of her favorite vanilla-scented air freshener. He found Leslie in the spotless kitchen. With Kenny in her arms, she greeted him with a smile and a light kiss.
“I haven’t started dinner yet. I thought I’d throw some steaks on the grill and cut up a salad to go with them,” she said.
“Why don’t I make dinner tonight,” he suggested impulsively. “You shouldn’t have to do all the cooking. I’m perfectly capable of grilling steaks and making salad. You and Kenny go watch TV or something, and I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.”
She looked surprised, but agreeable. “I’d be happy to help,” she offered.
He shook his head. “Not necessary. Go relax.”
She reached up to kiss him again, lingering a bit longer this time. “Sounds like a good plan to me,” she murmured. “And after dinner—when Kenny’s asleep—maybe we should both relax, hmm?”
“I’ll cook fast,” he promised huskily.
Leslie laughed and carried the baby out of the kitchen. Feeling uncomfortably warm all of a sudden, Tom shed his jacket and
rolled up his sleeves to wash up. He splashed some cold water on his face while he was at it.
Leslie woke before dawn Saturday to the sound of muted country music coming from the radio-alarm on the nightstand. Tom silenced it quickly with a slap of his hand.
“Sorry,” he said, his voice morning husky. “Go back to sleep. I’ll see you when I get back from the fishing trip.”
The room was still pitch-dark, with Tom barely visible in the shadows. Leslie reached out to him, reluctant to give up the warm comfort of his body beside her in the bed. “Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?” she asked drowsily.
He leaned over her. She felt the brush of his hand against her cheek, the gesture tender and sweet. “I didn’t want to disturb you,” he said. “It’s a ridiculous time to get up.”
Leslie chuckled. “Why are you doing it, then?”
“Zach says we’ll catch more fish if they’re too sleepy to outsmart us.”
“Sounds exactly like something Zach would say.”
She slid her hand up his bare arm, guided by touch rather than vision, picturing the tanned skin and taut muscles in her mind. “Mmm,” she murmured. “You feel so warm. Nice.”
“Leslie.”
His voice had taken on a deep undertone that she recognized.
“You’re making it harder for me to get out of this bed.”
She ran her hand across his chest, fingertips threading through the light pelt of hair. “I’m not trying to detain you,” she assured him, and walked her fingers up his shoulder to tickle the hair at the back of his neck.
He groaned. “You certainly aren’t pushing me out, either.”
She lifted her head to brush a kiss across his chin. “No,” she admitted.
His mouth sought hers, sliding over her cheek, settling onto her lips. The kiss was deep, slow, savoring. He didn’t lift his head when he murmured, “I really should be getting ready. Zach will be here in an hour.”
Knowing she should probably let him get up, she nuzzled against him anyway, enjoying the musky scent of sleep-warmed male, the rasp of morning beard, the accelerated beat of the pulse in his throat. There hadn’t been one morning she’d spent away from him that she hadn’t woken with thoughts of him at the back of her mind. The past week had brought back all the happy memories of the time they’d spent together before, as well as new insecurities about how long they would be together this time. But she couldn’t imagine ever taking for granted the simple joy of waking in Tom’s arms.
He shifted his weight against her, making no effort to hide the evidence of his response to her. He wanted her. She wasn’t sure exactly what else he felt for her, but she had no doubt that he wanted her.
“An hour, hmm?” She pressed against him and nipped at his lower lip. “So how long does it take you to get ready for a fishing trip?”
“Fifteen minutes, if I have to hurry.”
“I think you’re going to have to hurry this morning,” she whispered against his lips.
He rolled over to press her into the bedclothes with the weight of his body. “I think you’re right,” he muttered, and crushed her mouth beneath his.
“Running a little late this morning, aren’t you? What did you do—oversleep?” Zach asked when he and Tom were under way, fifteen minutes later than they’d originally planned.
“Yeah, something like that.”
From behind the wheel of his pickup, Zach slanted an amused look at Tom. “Uh-huh.”
Tom cleared his throat.
“Hey, this is the first time we’ve had a chance to talk since you married Lawyer Leslie,” Zach commented, as if the thought had just that moment occurred to him.
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
“So, are you going to tell me how it all came about? I mean, you left Sami’s dinner party a single guy, not even dating anyone as far as I knew, and the next time I saw you, a couple of days later, you were married. I gotta admit, it caught me off guard.”
“I know.” Tom knew, as well, that Zach had been hurt. Tom just didn’t know how to express his regret of that in words.
He and Zach had never formally apologized to each other. Their rare and brief altercations had usually been settled by rueful grins and sheepish looks, a few halfhearted punches on the arm, a couple of beers. He didn’t know if any of those would be appropriate in this case.
Maybe a fishing outing would serve a similar purpose.
But he supposed an apology wouldn’t hurt, either. It was what Leslie probably would have advised him to do. “Er, sorry,” he said.
“Sorry you didn’t tell me, or sorry you got married,” Zach quipped, proving he was no more comfortable than Tom with “touchy-feely” conversation between them.
“The, uh, former. Being married isn’t so bad, actually.” Tom couldn’t help smiling as he remembered the way Leslie had seen him off that morning.
“It certainly has its benefits,” Zach agreed, his own memories deepening his voice.
It was almost an hour’s drive to the fishing spot they favored, so Tom shifted into a more comfortable position on the truck seat, adjusted his seat belt and reached for the large, insulated container of coffee he’d brought with him. “I need caffeine,” he said. “Want me to pour you a cup?”
“Not yet, thanks. I drank half a pot before I left the house. Any more right now and I’ll be bouncing out of the boat.”
Tom chuckled and glanced automatically over his shoulder at the boat Zach towed on a trailer behind the pickup. It was still dark out, but he could dimly see the boat in the taillights of the truck. “The rig looks good. You’ve been working on it.”
“Kim bought me new seats for Christmas. She thought it was a weird present, but I’d been wanting some. This will be my first chance to try them out.”
Tom shifted in his seat again. His leg was aching a bit this morning. Probably from the damp, cold, early-morning air. Or maybe he’d been a bit too energetic with Leslie while still stiff from sleep. He recalled the over-the-counter painkillers he’d tossed into the pack he’d brought along with him, and thought he’d probably take one when he could do so without calling Zach’s attention to his actions.
But he should have remembered that there wasn’t much Zach missed.
“Your leg bothering you?” Zach asked a bit too casually.
“Just a little stiff,” Tom replied, equally offhand. “It’ll loosen up.”
“So how have you been lately? Your back and all, I mean.”
The gruff wording told Tom how carefully Zach was trying to question him without annoying him.
Maybe a couple of weeks earlier Tom would have shrugged off the well-intended questions, maybe even gotten chippy and defensive. But that was before Leslie had made him acknowledge to himself how badly he missed the closeness he and Zach had once shared. And to concede that he was at least halfway responsible for the awkwardness between them now. Which meant that he was going to have to make an equal effort to bridge the gap, no matter how badly he hated talking about his weaknesses.
“I’m okay, Zach,” he said quietly. “I have a few bad days, but even more good ones. I went to Little Rock last month to see the orthopedic surgeon.”
“What did he say?”
“That I’ve healed better than he expected when he first saw me fifteen months ago. That I probably won’t heal any more than I have now, but with proper care, I won’t get any worse, either. I guess that’s a pretty good report.”
“You, uh, never got all the movement or feeling back in your right foot?”
“No. The paralysis there is permanent. But it could have been worse,” Tom said matter-of-factly. “I could have been left a paraplegic. Came pretty darn close, for that matter. Most days, I consider myself damned lucky.”
“And on the other days?”
“I mope around and feel sorry for myself. Or at least I used to. Now when I start feeling like that, Leslie kicks my butt and reminds me of how good I’ve got it.”
Zach ch
uckled. “She’s a scary woman.”
“Yeah. But good for me, I think.”
“So do I. I was a little worried when you got married so quickly. Frankly, I wasn’t sure if you knew what you were doing. I was aware you’d been pretty tight with Leslie before she moved away, but you’d convinced me that it had been an amicable parting and that you weren’t carrying a torch or anything, so I wasn’t sure why you suddenly married her. I thought it had something to do with her sister’s kid...”
He let that sentence trail into a delicate question.
Tom shrugged and took a careful sip of hot coffee before answering. “Maybe to an extent,” he said finally. “We both thought it was better for Kenny to have two parents. We’re going to adopt him. His legal name will be ‘Kenneth Pendleton Lowery,’ and I fully intend to raise him as my son.”
“He’s a lucky kid. You’ll be a good dad.”
Tom was touched. “Thanks, Zach.”
“And Leslie’s obviously devoted to the boy.”
“Completely. She’s already his mother, in every way that matters. Crystal—the biological mother—knew what she was doing when she asked Leslie to raise her son.”
“I never thought of Leslie as the maternal type. Thought she was all hard edges and career, you know? Looks like I was wrong.”
Tom wanted to agree again. He wanted to believe that Leslie wouldn’t be caught up again in her career when she went back to work. And he did believe it, in a way. He couldn’t imagine her ever putting a job, any job, before Kenny. She loved that baby too much, had already sacrificed everything for him. She wouldn’t hesitate to do so again.
As for where Tom stood in her priorities—well, that was the question that haunted him. She’d walked away from him for a career before. And while she’d made a few comments to the effect that she regretted doing so, he still worried that things would change between them when Leslie was back on her feet financially and emotionally.