“You’re assuming I’ll do well.”
“You will.”
“I wish I could be as sure.” He took a deep breath, then released it. “If you knew this was going to happen, why did you bother…” Now he was the one who stiffened slightly.
She wrapped her arm around his waist and held on. “Don’t, Adam. Why did I bother coming back, if I knew the risk I was taking? Is that the question?”
“Yes.”
It was easier this way, she thought, closing her eyes and resting her head against his chest. His cotton shirt felt warm and smooth against her cheek. She inhaled the scent of him. Better not to see the emotions in his eyes. Or worse, to see the shutters closing her out.
“I came back because it was time I stopped thinking only of myself. I took the risk because Billie deserves a father in her life and you deserve your daughter. I love her. She loves me. I have to trust that love to last through this. And if it doesn’t…” She didn’t allow herself to visualize that scenario. “I can’t make her care if she doesn’t want to.”
“Sounds dangerous to me.”
She could see why he would think that. After all, his parents had died when he’d been quite young. The next big relationship in his life had ended when she’d run off. No wonder Adam had his doubts about the strength of love.
“You’re going to have to trust me on this one,” she said.
“That’s a big order,” he said quietly.
She squeezed her eyes shut against the pain. She deserved the comment, but it still hurt.
“I didn’t mean that the way it came out,” he said.
“Yes, you did.”
He stepped away from her and walked to the other side of the kitchen. The physical rejection hurt almost as much as his words had, but she forced herself to stand upright and not let it show. The hard part was that she felt as raw and exposed as an open wound. The broken promises, fears and lies from their past might never be overcome. And then what?
From the window, he could see out into her backyard. “Look at her,” he said.
Jane walked over to stand next to him. She glanced out. Billie had a bucketful of softballs on the ground next to her and was pitching them through an old tire he’d hung in the yard. Her running commentary was barely audible through the glass.
“What are we going to do about all of this?” he asked, as if he could read her mind. “Where do we go from here?”
“I haven’t a clue.”
*
“Mom said she’d rather bake something, but there wasn’t time, so we’re having store-bought dessert.” Billie leaned closer to Adam and lowered her voice. “I love my mom’s cookies and stuff, but sometimes it’s fun to have it from the store. They have that thick icing she doesn’t like me to have.”
No doubt about it, Adam thought as he returned her grin, Belle Charlene Barrington was a charmer.
“Did she let you pick it out?”
“Uh-huh. German chocolate cake.” She licked her lips. “I took a taste of the icing before. It’s great.”
“I’m sure.” He rose to his feet and collected their plates.
Dinner had gone better than he’d hoped. Despite the awkwardness
between him and Jane, conversation had been lively at the table. With Billie around, there wasn’t much fear of silence. So far she seemed to have accepted him with few reservations, although she did stick close to her mother. Charlene had told him it was perfectly natural in a child her age. He had to bow to her superior wisdom in this area. Funny, Jane was worried about losing Billie, while he was concerned about not being accepted. They were both afraid.
Billie picked up the empty bowl that had contained the pasta.
“Have you got that?” he asked. “Is it too heavy?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not a kid.”
“Oh? What are you?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Okay,
maybe
I’m a kid, but I’m not a little one.”
“Point taken.” He held open the swinging door to the kitchen, and she ducked under his arm.
“Are you going to live with us?” Billie asked.
Even though he’d been worried about her handling the heavy glass bowl, he was the one who almost dropped the dishes he carried. He stepped into the kitchen and sought Jane’s gaze. She looked about as startled as he felt.
“Live with you?” he repeated.
“You know, in the same house? Families do that. Are we a family?”
Jane took the bowl from her daughter’s hands. “Yes, Billie, we’re a family. As for living together, there are a lot of details to be worked out.”
“What about the houses? We shouldn’t have two. Can we live with Adam? I promise I won’t slide down the banister.”
Jane smiled at the girl. Adam wondered if Billie saw how her mouth quivered at the corner and the panic in her eyes. “I’ve told you about not making promises you can’t keep.”
Billie sighed heavily. “I’ll
try
not to slide down the banister too often.”
“That’s better.”
“So can we?”
Jane looked at him and silently pleaded for help. He set the plates on the counter and crouched in front of Billie. Without her
baseball cap, she looked smaller and more feminine. He tapped her nose. “Your mother and I have to work out the details of this arrangement. As soon as we’ve come to some sort of agreement, we’ll let you know. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Billie peered at him. “Are you my dad forever?”
The lump appeared in his throat without warning. “Yes. Forever.”
“You won’t go away?”
“What do you mean?”
“Sometimes dads leave. There were two girls in my class last year whose dads left. One of them had to move.”
He didn’t dare look at Jane. “Sometimes parents do things their children don’t understand. But no, I won’t ever leave you. Not after I’ve just found you.” He rose to his feet. She held out her arms and he swung her up into his embrace.
“What does a dad do?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. We’ll find out together.”
“Do you buy me presents on my birthday?”
“Yes.”
“And Christmas?”
“And Christmas.”
“Like a bike?”
“Billie!” Jane shook her head.
Billie leaned closer to him and whispered, “In case you wanted to, you know, ask what I’d like for Christmas, I’d like a bike.”
“I’d never have guessed,” he said, holding back a smile.
“Enough,” Jane said, planting her hands on her hips. “Billie, finish clearing the table. Adam, do you want cake?”
He lowered Billie to the floor and watched her scurry out of the room. Then he turned back to Jane. Several strands of hair had escaped from her braid and now drifted around her face. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, just something to make her lashes longer and her eyes look mysterious. Any lipstick had long since worn away. But that didn’t stop him from staring at her mouth.
If he concentrated, he could almost taste her sweet passion. It hadn’t been that many days ago that he’d kissed her in anger. Despite the rage he’d felt and his need to punish her, she’d more than met him halfway. It had been a joining of equals, not of
teacher and student. A blush stained her cheeks, but he didn’t stop staring. His gaze drifted down to her chest and the row of impossibly small buttons marching from the top of the scooped neck down to the dropped waist of the dress. Her loose clothing hid her shape. Nine years ago she’d felt self-conscious about her small breasts. Had another man taught her that it was the soul of the woman that drove a man wild; that her body was simply packaging? Had other hands taught her that size didn’t matter, that smaller might be more sensitive, that skin as smooth as hers could only ever be perfect? How many lovers had completed what he had begun? How many had made up for his boorishness?
“Adam?” She spoke his name softly, responding more to his look than asking a question.
He took a step toward her. Billie burst into the room carrying three glasses and a serving plate balanced precariously on top. He leapt toward her to rescue the china. The plate teetered. He caught it as it fell.
“Oops,” she said.
“Oops
is right, kid.”
Billie set the glasses on the counter and turned to her mother. “When are we having dessert?”
“Right now.”
Jane opened a bakery box and pulled out the cake inside. Billie grabbed forks and grinned. “My favorite part of the meal.”
“Mine, too,” he said, trying to ignore the panic building up inside. It was all happening too quickly and too easily. Billie liked him; Jane—He drew in a breath. Something was happening there all right. Hormones or memories or both. And it scared the hell out of him. He was risking too much. This whole thing could explode in his face, leaving him worse off than before.
*
“But I want
both
of you to put me to bed,” Billie whined when Jane told her it was time to take her bath.
Jane shook her head and glanced at Adam. “There’s still time to back out.”
He sat on the sofa with Billie curled up next to him. With a lazy flick of his hand, he sent her baseball cap sailing. She chuckled and ducked after it, then climbed onto his lap.
“I’ll take my chances,” he said, holding Billie in his arms as he rose to his feet. “How about if I give you a piggyback ride to the bathroom, then
after
your bath, I’ll help tuck you in?”
“Okay. But I want a
long
ride. The tub’s real big and takes a long time to fill.”
Jane watched Adam gallop down the hall, with Billie clinging to his back and urging him to go faster. He ducked to avoid bumping her against the hall light fixture. As they passed under the glow, the hair on their heads gleamed. Identical shades of brown reflected in the light. She forced herself to stand and walk up the stairs to the bathroom.
The raw feeling hadn’t gone away, she thought, as she adjusted the water temperature. She needed some serious comforting. As she added bubble bath to the tub, she realized that an hour-long soak and a good book wasn’t exactly what she was thinking of. She wanted to be held. By Adam. The trouble with that scenario was that he was part of the problem. A big part. No doubt he was feeling a little on edge himself. Who would he go to for comfort? Was there someone special in Orchard, or maybe the next town, that he could call?
The thought of Adam with another woman fired up her temper, but she told herself she had no right to care. She’d given away that right the day she’d run out on him. She was lucky he wasn’t married with a dozen kids of his own. At least Billie would have him all to herself while they got acquainted. Charlene had warned her that Adam hadn’t spent the last nine years waiting for her. She would do well to remember that advice.
While the tub filled, Jane went into Billie’s room and pulled a clean pair of pajamas out of a dresser drawer. After clicking on the lamp, she drew back the bright red spread and smoothed the sheets. The worn old teddy bear, with one ear missing and most of the fur rubbed off, was the only vaguely feminine thing in a room full of baseball posters and sports equipment. She picked up a couple of dirty T-shirts and dropped them into the basket, then walked to the doorway and surveyed the room. Where would they live when the dust settled on this new situation? The three of them? Here? She shook her head. Adam would never give up his family home; nor did she want him to. He belonged to the
Barrington estate; it was as much a part of him as his eyes. Would they continue to live next door to each other? There didn’t seem to be much option. She wouldn’t move into that big house. She had no right.
Thundering footsteps on the stairs drew her attention away from her thoughts. She stepped into the bathroom and turned off the water, then returned to the hall and watched Adam carrying Billie up the stairs. They were both laughing at something. Billie tugged on his shirt collar as if it were the reins. Her pulling had unfastened two buttons exposing more of his broad chest. Jane felt herself flush and looked away.
“One child delivered for bathing,” he said, turning his back on her and grabbing Billie’s arm to help her slide down.
“Just in time,” Jane answered. “The bath is ready.”
“Aw, Mom.”
Jane laughed. “We have this conversation every night and I’ve never changed my mind about your bath. Why do you keep trying?”
Billie grinned. “You might say I don’t have to.”
“Hope springs eternal.” She pulled off her daughter’s baseball cap. “In.” She pointed to the bathtub. “Now.”
Billie glanced up at Adam. “Will you help tuck me in?”
Jane told herself not to look, but she couldn’t help it. She glanced at his face. The shutters opened to reveal a longing so intense, it took her breath away. He reached out and tapped Billie’s nose. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”
“Cool.” She ducked into the bathroom. “I’m not really dirty, Mom, so this shouldn’t take long.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “We go through this every night.”
Adam smiled. “I can imagine. Call me when she’s done.”
She watched him retreat down the stairs. He moved with a powerful grace that made her long for a second chance.
“I’m in the tub,” Billie called. “I’m splashing.”
“I’m coming.”
*
“Now Adam kisses me good-night,” Billie demanded royally. He leaned forward and obliged.
“Enough,” Jane said. “No more kissing or conversation. Go to sleep. You’re exhausted.”
Billie yawned suddenly, then rolled onto her side. “Okay. G’night.”
Adam hovered by the bed, as if he didn’t want to leave her just yet. Jane waited by the door. Billie sighed, then her eyes fluttered closed. He leaned over and kissed her again, then joined Jane. They shut the door behind them and walked toward the stairs.
“All that energy,” he said. “It’s hard to believe she’s actually going to sleep.”
“I know. But as tired as she is, she’ll be out in about twenty seconds.”
They reached the hallway and stopped. Jane bit her lower lip. She should send Adam on his way. That was the sensible thing to do. They were both emotionally at the end of their ropes and needed the time to regroup. But to be honest—and selfish—she didn’t want to be alone. Not yet.
“Would you like some coffee?” she asked, not daring to look at him.
He didn’t answer at first. Slowly she raised her gaze to his. Confusion, acceptance and pain swirled in the brown depths. “You have anything stronger?” he asked.