Sunset Flames_Baytown Boys

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Sunset Flames_Baytown Boys Page 11

by Maryann Jordan

She reached up, wordlessly, and stroked his face. He noted a shiver running over her and pulled the covers over them, tucking her in close to his body.

  Here, with her in his arms, there were no problems. No job decisions to be made. No furniture to be sorted. No thoughts as to when she might leave. It was as though the cares of the world could not touch them as they rested in their cocoon. He just hoped she felt the same.

  Zac awoke with his arms empty and the bed catching the chill of the evening, considering the sun had almost set and dark shadows fell across the room. They had slept for hours, recuperating in each other’s arms. Leaning up, he watched as Madelyn slid her shoes on, bending down to grab her purse.

  “Hey,” he called out, his hand rubbing over his chest.

  She turned, her smile wide, noting the confused line creasing his brow. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to disturb you. I get the feeling, with your job, you don’t always get a lot of uninterrupted sleep.”

  He sat up, swinging his legs over the side before standing, unconcerned about his nudity. He watched as her eyes moved over his body and he was unable to contain the pride infusing his being. “See anything you like, Maddie?”

  Barking out a laugh, she cocked her hip, and replied, “Oh, I think you know the answer to that, Zac Hamilton. I made good use of what I liked.”

  Grinning, he stalked forward, his hands on her shoulders. “You’re kind of overdressed, aren’t you? Were you planning on sneaking out?”

  “No sneaking to it,” she quipped. “But, yeah, I was going to head home.”

  He tried to hide the disappointment from his face, offering a pretend pout instead. This is what I wanted, friends with benefits for just as long as she was in town. A short tryst. Easy, fun, no emotions. And yet he found himself blurting, “When will I see you again?”

  She fiddled with her purse strap as she searched his eyes. “I don’t know. I’ve got to work on the house and get David to set up the auction to sell the antiques.”

  Snagging his boxers and jeans off the floor, he jerked them on. “We’ve got a beach party coming up. Are you still coming?”

  Her face brightening, she nodded. “Sounds good.”

  Nodding, he walked her to the door, then hesitated. “I forgot you’re afraid of heights. Let me walk you through the station.”

  “But, what if—”

  “There’s only one volunteer on night duty tonight and I promise he’ll be in the break room watching TV if he’s not already snoring. It’ll be fine.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, “but if I keep coming here, I’m going to have to traverse the scary stairs sooner or later.”

  “Or you can just come in through the station.”

  “I thought the idea was to keep this between us. No complications.”

  “And what’s complicated about other people knowing? Or are you ashamed of being seen with me?”

  Huffing, she said, “Not ashamed…just…uh well, it is Baytown.”

  “You’re afraid of the Baytown gossips? Babe, the Mayor’s secretary was sleeping with the Town Manager when he was engaged to someone else. And that’s after the Mayor’s wife had him sleeping on the couch because he hired her in the first place.”

  A giggle erupted from her but he was on a roll.

  “Jillian had to put Grant into the friend-only category when he kept going out with women even though he obviously cared about her until he got his head out of his ass and realized himself that what he wanted all along was her. Don’t even get me started on Brogan, who pined for Ginny for a year, even cutting his long hair to impress her, before finally making a move. Mitch had trouble making the moves on Tori because she was accused of murder.”

  “Oh, my God,” she blurted. “Stop! I get it. You’re saying that no one cares what we do.”

  He pulled her in for a hug, his arms tight around her body, noticing the way her chin fit perfectly underneath his. In fact, everything about her felt perfect. Kissing the top of her head, he said, “I don’t want you to feel self-conscious. No one will judge you, and certainly not our friends. But, I’ll respect whatever you want.”

  She leaned her head back, staring into his eyes and said, “I’m not ashamed of our friendship. I’ll let you walk me out the front.”

  Grinning, he threw on a BFD t-shirt, and they left through the main station.

  Halfway through the station she turned back to him suddenly, raising a hand and squinting her eyes in disbelief. “Wait, did you say Tori was accused of murder?”

  Laughing, he put his hand on her back and finished walking her to her car down the street. “Baytown is just full of surprises.” After opening her door, he bent to kiss her goodbye. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

  “Count on it. I’ll be at home, digging my way through Dad’s things.”

  He stood on the street and watched as her tail lights grew smaller before heading back into the station, a strange sense of wistfulness filling his chest.

  15

  Madelyn climbed the stairs, reluctance in her steps. Reaching the top, she bypassed the bedrooms and headed straight to the small bathroom, turning on the water in the bathtub. As the water ran, she stripped off her clothes and stood in front of the mirror. Her breasts had pink burns from Zac’s stubble where he had devoured her. Her neck sported small bite marks and she grinned at the evidence of his nibbles.

  Lifting her gaze to her face, she wondered why she did not feel happier. I’m only here a couple of weeks. It’s just a bit of fun…no big deal. But, she knew she was lying to herself. Sex with Zac Hamilton might have just been sex to him, but to her heart, it felt like more. God, I don’t need this complication! As she settled into the tub, she realized there was no complication. Not to him and therefore not to her. I can keep it light…keep it friendly. And then when I leave…well, I can take my sad heart back with me.

  The night was blessedly peaceful with no emergency calls, but as Zac lay in bed, his thoughts rolled over the day with Madelyn. She had asked about his parents and he had easily talked about his mother’s death. While it had been on the tip of his tongue to talk about his father’s as well, he hesitated. What would she think if she knew he had been the town drunk?

  There were few secrets in Baytown, especially back in those days, and his father’s drinking was well known. But she lived in the county and not in the town, so perhaps she had never heard of his dad. He had told her of the kindness of his friends’ mothers when his mom died, but it had been a while since he allowed himself to think back on how his friends’ dads stepped up as well.

  His mind traveled down the path he rarely allowed, hating to think of the days when the other men in town were more of a dad than his own father was. He just accepted their offers to help him learn to play ball, how they celebrated when he made homeruns, and provided extra food when the Baytown Boys had sleepovers. Did I notice they treated me special? Or, in my teenage mind, did I just think it was normal? He knew they would have stepped up for any of them, but looking back, none of the others seemed to need it.

  Rolling over, he punched his pillow, his frustration over his dad growing. How could he just leave me alone like that? And did he know what the other men in town did to fill his place?

  Sliding his mind back to Madelyn, he had observed the same specter of pain in her eyes when they talked out on the pier and wondered about the cause. He knew she and her dad were estranged, but had no idea why. Blowing out his breath, his proposal with the pretty counselor took over his thoughts. Sex without emotion. Friendship without declarations of love. What a perfect arrangement…I thought. Who knew being with her was going to rock my world? And why does the idea of something more not scare me as much as it always has?

  Rubbing his chest, he felt an emptiness in his heart at the thought of her that didn’t set well with him. Since when do I need someone? Love equals loss, and that equals pain. Closing his eyes, he knew he was not going to go back on his offer and, if he was being honest with himself, he se
cretly hoped she would stay longer than originally planned.

  The American Legion meeting had adjourned, but Zac held back, putting the chairs away as most of the others headed to the pub. Steve and Ed Evans, Jillian’s and Mitch’s fathers, helped. Even in their late fifties, it was easy to see that the two men were brothers. Both sported short hair, grey interspersed with the light brown. Ed was slightly leaner, but after his heart attack, his wife had watched his diet like a hawk. Zac had noticed at the last AL picnic that Ed had stared with unabashed envy at his brother’s plate until Claire snatched half the food off Steve’s overladen dish.

  As their task finished, Zac stuck his hands in his pockets and asked, “You guys got a minute?”

  Steve looked at him, sharp eyes piercing his before casting a glance toward his brother. Both men turned and deftly took several chairs back down from the neat stack. Placing three facing each other, Steve said, “Let’s have a seat, son.”

  Son. That was something he always noticed. Both Steve and Ed called him ‘son’. But, then, so did most of the other men in town. Was it a throwaway title, or did it mean something? And why the hell does it matter to me now?

  Shaking his head to rid himself of the tangled cobwebs that filled his mind, he sat leaning forward, his arms resting on his thighs. Staring at his clasped hands for a moment, he finally looked up and asked, “I want to know more about my dad…and why he drank himself to death instead of taking care of me. And why all of you had to step in to do his job.”

  Seeing the shock in their eyes, he continued, “I’m asking you two because I may have only been ten years old when Mom died, but it wasn’t lost on me that you, and several other dads, took me under their wings when my own dad decided he didn’t care about his own son anymore—”

  Steve opened his mouth to protest, but was halted when Ed knee-bumped him, allowing him to continue speaking.

  “For a long time, Dad was just sad and I got that. As young as I was, I got that, ‘cause I was sad too. But when did you all know something was wrong?”

  They sighed heavily at the same time before a look passed between them, indicating the secret-brother manner of deciding who would speak first.

  Ed placed his hands on his knees, holding Zac’s gaze steady and said, “We grew up with your dad. We’d bend an elbow when we were out fishing or at the end of a game. Like most young bucks, we’d get beer from one of the stores that never cared how old you were, and if memory serves, your grandfather had no problem with getting us a six-pack.”

  “Probably not much different than you boys in your teens,” Steve added.

  “We all went into the military and when we came back, we’d still have a drink or two when together, but family responsibilities took over.” Ed shrugged, “Alcohol was not a big part of our gatherings.”

  Steve said, “Your dad drank, but none of us ever noticed a problem…not right away. Then we’d notice, long before your mother got sick, that he would be the last to leave the pub if we had a get-together. If we were out fishing, he’d go through a six-pack before the rest of us had two beers. And we’d stop while he kept going.”

  The two men shared another long look before turning back to Zac. “When your mom got sick, he stopped drinking. He was devoted to her. We’d all pitch in to make sure you were in school and taken care of when he was at the hospital or with her when she was sick from chemo.” Shaking his head, Ed repeated, “Utterly devoted.”

  Swallowing hard, Zac remembered his dad admonishing him gently. “Gotta stay quiet, son. Your mama’s resting.”

  “But then, when Mary died, he was devastated, like any man would be, and he took to drinking heavily. He wasn’t a mean drunk…he was amiable, so it was easy to overlook because we all knew how much he loved your mom and her death pulled his foundation right out from under him.” Sighing heavily, Ed added, “And that was a failing of ours…not recognizing that it was a problem until it was too late.”

  “It wasn’t your job to keep Dad away from the drink,” Zac fired back.

  “No, but I think we all regret not trying harder.”

  “So, you took care of his son since he wasn’t doing a bang-up job of it?”

  Steve rubbed his chin, dark clouds moving through his eyes. “We took care of you because we loved you. We all did. You were, are, another one of our boys.”

  “A pity charge?”

  Rearing back, Ed said, “We took care of all the kids, Zac. Not just you. I’m the one who took Grant to the doctor when he broke his arm in sixth grade, ‘cause his parents were visiting Marcia’s mom in Virginia Beach. Grant’s dad sat with Jillian when she got sick at school and Steve and Claire were at a conference in Maryland all day. Philip’s dad got to the hospital first when Mitch fell off the ladder until I could get there. That’s what Baytown’s all about…good friends who care about each other.”

  He sat quietly, letting more memories flow over him, his heart still aching from the knowledge his father did very little but drink as the years progressed.

  “Your dad was not drunk all the time, but it did get worse. We just stepped in to make sure you had plenty of adults around to take up the slack where he was failing.”

  Steve eyed him with a steady stare. “Can I ask what’s got you thinking about all this, son?”

  Leaning back in the hard, metal chair, his breath left his lungs in a heavy sigh. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he shook his head in dejection. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ve just always accepted how things played out but never really analyzed the actual reasons. I guess I always figured that dad just drank because he missed mom so much, and am only now realizing that maybe part of me also thought I wasn’t enough to save him…”

  “Oh, son, you couldn’t have done anything. I’m sorry you’ve taken that on. It hurts to think that his inability to work through his grief impacted you so much,” Ed finished.

  Nodding, he agreed. “Yeah…”

  “This trip down memory lane have anything to do with Madelyn being in town and her father’s funeral?” Steve asked.

  Heart suddenly racing, he looked up abruptly. “Why do you ask?”

  “Well, I didn’t know her dad well, but he drank a lot too.”

  Zac’s brows lifted to his forehead at this tidbit and wondered if that had anything to do with her relationship turning sour with her dad.

  “Seen you two together at the pub. She seems like a real nice girl.”

  He looked at Ed and Steve, but saw no mirth in either man’s eyes. Just concern.

  Ed said, “Of all the boys, you were the one who kept girls at arm’s length. Oh, you’d go out and enjoy being with them as long as nothing serious ever happened. I figure there were a few hearts broken by you. Not like Aiden, who’d charm the pants off anyone and not have a second though. You were cautious with your heart.”

  “And now, your interest is snagged by someone and it seems like you’re trying to get a grip on what that might mean,” Steve finished.

  Throwing his hands up in defense, he retorted, “Hey, she’s only in town a couple of weeks.”

  “But…something’s got you questioning the past.”

  “You guys are too insightful for your own good, you know that?” He looked at them pointedly and laughed as they tried to look unassuming. “I’m just finally at an age where I can look back and try to figure out my dad. And yeah, she’s got me thinking about it. After what he went through, I’ve always equated love with potential loss and with that loss extreme pain. Wasn’t worth the heartache.”

  They all sat quietly for a few minutes, the room silent as their thoughts churned. Ed looked at Zac before saying, “You know, growing up, you had a chance to see me and Nancy up close, being at our house a lot. Same here, with Steve and Claire. And I know Eric and Corrine MacFarlane included you in a lot of their family gatherings with their kids. You had the chance to see lots of solid relationships that weathered good times and bad. Your parents loved each other. You gotta know that love binds us togethe
r, son. Love does not have to equal pain.

  “Obviously,” Ed added, “long marriages will end with one partner losing the other and yes, that is loss and pain. But the love that was shared, the memories made will make the pain worth it.”

  Zac’s hands twisted together as he tried to open his mind to what they were saying. Inhaling a deep breath, he let it out slowly, hearing the shuddering sound as it left his body.

  “And, while your dad did not handle his grief the way he should have, he loved your mom and you very much.”

  “You can’t hide away from love just because you’re afraid of the pain. You do that, Zac, and you’ll be a very lonely man.”

  Standing, they all embraced before replacing the chairs into the stacks and leaving the building. Saying their goodbyes on the street corner, he threw his hand up in a wave as he turned to walk the few blocks to the fire station, his mind swirling.

  The night had been long and the day even longer. David was doing what she asked, but she found that having someone else in the house was getting on her nerves. It finally hit her in the late afternoon that she had swept into town, sure that once she got the funeral over with she wanted to get rid of the household contents immediately, and put the house on the market. Now, she wanted more. More time to look over the house’s contents. More time to figure out what she might have meant to her dad. More time for her memories.

  She finally thanked him and sent him on his way, letting him know that she needed a few days to grieve. He appeared to understand and made her promise to call him if he was needed.

  Having found the writings from her father, she wanted to spend more time unraveling the mystery of who he was, who he had become, and why he had stayed away when it appeared that he wanted some kind of relationship with her.

  She sat down on the crowded sofa, now slightly visible in the living room since some more of the less valuable pieces had been placed in the shed. Opening the notebook, she leaned back, her gaze traveling over the chicken-scratch penmanship of her father. Reading a few more entries, she found that she alternated between tears and anger with each one.

 

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