Читать книгу: «The Alpha Brotherhood», страница 3
Malcolm chuckled softly. “Wouldn’t have been half as fun that way.”
“Fun? You think this is some kind of game? You’re a sick bastard.” The thought of them plotting this out while he partied blissfully unaware had him working hard to keep his breath steady. He and his friends had played some harsh jokes on one another in the past, but nothing like this. “How long have you known?”
“For about a week,” the chart-topping musician answered unrepentantly.
“A week.” Seven days he could have had with his son. Seven days his best friends kept the largest of secrets from him. Anger flamed through him. Was there nobody left in this world he could trust? He clenched his hand around the glass tumbler until it threatened to shatter. “And you said nothing at all.”
“I know it seems twisted, but we talked it through,” he said, all humor gone, his smooth tones completely serious for once. “We thought this was the best way. You’re too good at playing it cool with advance notice. You would have just made her mad.”
“Like I didn’t already do that?” He set aside the half-drunk glass of bourbon, the top-shelf brand wasted on him in his current mood.
“You confronted her with honesty,” Malcolm answered reasonably. “If we’d given you time to think, you’d have gotten your pride up. You would have been angry and bullish. You can be rather pigheaded, you know.”
“If I’m such a jackass, then why are we still friends?”
“Because I’m a jackass, too.” Malcolm paused before continuing somberly. “You would have done the same for me. I know what it’s like not to see your child, to have missed out on time you can never get back…”
Malcolm’s voice choked off with emotion. He and his wife had been high school sweethearts who’d had to give up a baby girl for adoption since they were too young to provide a life for their daughter. Now they had twins—a boy and a girl—they loved dearly, but they still grieved for that first child, even knowing they’d made the right decision for her.
Although Malcolm and Celia had both known about their child from the start.
Elliot forked his hands through his buzzed hair, kept closely shorn since he’d let his thoughts of Lucy Ann distract him and he’d caught his car on fire just before Christmas—nearly caught himself on fire, as well.
He’d scorched his hair; the call had been that damn close.
“I just can’t wrap my brain around the fact she’s kept his existence from me for so long.”
Malcolm snorted. “I can’t believe the two of you slept together.”
A growl rumbled low in his throat. “You’re close to overstepping the bounds of our friendship with talk like that.”
“Ahhh.” He chuckled. “So you do care about her more than you’ve let on.”
“We were…friends. Lifelong friends. That’s no secret.” He and Lucy Ann shared so much history it was impossible to unravel events from the past without thinking about each other. “The fact that there was briefly more…I can’t deny that, either.”
“You must not have been up to snuff for her to run so fast.”
Anger hissed between Elliot’s teeth, and he resisted the urge to pitch his Bluetooth over the balcony. “Now you have crossed the line. If we were sitting in the same place right now, my fist would be in your face.”
“Fair enough.” Douglas laughed softly again. “Like I said. You do care more than a little, more than any ‘buddy.’ And you can’t refute it. Admit it, Elliot. I’ve just played you, my friend.”
No use denying he’d been outmaneuvered by someone who knew him too well.
And as for what Malcolm had said? That he cared for Lucy Ann? Cared? Yes. He had. And like every other time in his life he’d cared, things had gone south.
If he wanted to sort through this mess and create any kind of future with Eli and Lucy Ann, he had to think more and care less.
Three
Lucy Ann shaded her eyes against the rising sun. For the third time in twenty-four hours a limousine pulled up her dusty road, oak trees creating a canopy for the long driveway. The first time had occurred yesterday when Elliot had arrived, then when he’d left, and now, he was returning.
Her simple semihermit life working from home with her son was drawing to a close in another few minutes.
Aunt Carla cradled Eli in her arms. Carla never seemed to age, her hair a perpetual shade halfway between gray and brown. She refused to waste money to have it colored. Her arms were ropy and strong from years of carting around trays of pizzas and sodas. Her skin was prematurely wrinkled from too much hard work, time in the Carolina sun—and a perpetual smile.
She was a tough, good woman who’d been there for Lucy Ann all her life. Too bad Carla couldn’t have been her mother. Heaven knows she’d prayed for that often enough.
Carla smiled down at little Eli, his fist curled around her finger. “I’m sure I’m going to miss you both. It’s been a treat having a baby around again.”
She’d never had a child of her own, but was renowned for opening her home to family members in need. She wasn’t a problem-solver so much as a temporary oasis. Very temporary, as the limo drew closer down the half-mile driveway.
“You’re sweet to make it sound like we haven’t taken over your house.” Lucy Ann tugged her roller bag through the door, kerthunking it over a bump, casting one last glance back at the tiny haven of Hummels and the saggy sofa.
“Sugar, you know I only wish I could’ve done more for you this time and when you were young.” Carla swayed from side to side, wearing her standard high-waisted jeans and a seasonal shirt—a pink Easter bunny on today’s tee.
“You’ve always been there for me.” Lucy Ann sat on top of her luggage, her eyes on the nearing limo. “I don’t take that for granted.”
“I haven’t always been there for you and we both know it,” Carla answered, her eyes shadowed with memories they both didn’t like to revisit.
“You did the best you could. I know that.” Since Lucy Ann’s mother had legal guardianship and child services wouldn’t believe any of the claims of neglect, much less allegations of abuse by stepfathers, there wasn’t anything Lucy Ann could do other than escape to Carla—or to Elliot.
Her mother and her last stepfather had died in a boating accident, so there was nothing to be gained from dwelling on the past. Her mom had no more power over her than Lucy Ann allowed her. “Truly, Carla, the past is best left there.”
“Glad to know you feel that way. I hope you learned that from me.” Carla tugged on Lucy Ann’s low ponytail. “If you can forgive me, why can’t you forgive Elliot?”
Good question. She slouched back with a sigh. “If I could answer that, then I guess my heart wouldn’t be breaking in two right now.”
Her aunt hauled her in for a one-armed hug while she cradled the baby in the other. “I would fix this for you if I could.”
“Come with us,” Lucy Ann blurted. “I’ve asked you before and I know all your reasons for saying no. You love your home and your life and weekly bingo. But will you change your mind this time?” She angled back, hoping. “Will you come with us? We’re family.”
“Ah, sweet niece.” Carla shook her head. “This is your life, your second chance, your adventure. Be careful. Be smart. And remember you’re a damn amazing woman. He would be a lucky man to win you back.”
Just the thought… No. “That’s not why I’m going with him.” She took Eli from her aunt. “My trip is only about planning a future for my son, for figuring out a way to blend Elliot’s life with my new life.”
“You used to be a major part of his world.”
“I was his glorified secretary.” A way for him to give her money while salving her conscience. At least she’d lived frugally and used the time to earn a degree so she could be self-sufficient. The stretch limo slowed along the last patch of gravel in front of the house.
“You were his best friend and confidant… And apparently something more at least once.”
“I’m not sure what point you are trying to make, but if you’re going to make it, do so fast.” She nodded to the opening limo door. “We’re out of time.”
“You two got along fabulously for decades and there’s an obvious attraction. Why can’t you have more?” Her aunt tipped her head, eyeing Elliot stepping from the vehicle. The car door slammed.
Sunshine sent dappled rays along his sandy-brown hair, over his honed body in casual jeans and a white polo that fit his muscled arms. She’d leaned on those broad shoulders for years without hesitation, but now all she could think about was the delicious feel of those arms around her. The flex of those muscles as he stretched over her.
Lucy Ann tore her eyes away and back to her aunt. “Have more?” That hadn’t ended well for either of them. “Are you serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“He hasn’t come looking for me for nearly a year. He let me go.” Something that had hurt every day of the eleven months that passed. She waved toward him talking to his chauffeur. “He’s only here now because his friends threw him on my doorstep.”
“You’re holding back because of your pride?” Her aunt tut-tutted. “You’re throwing him and a possible future away because of pride?”
“Listen to me. He threw me away.” She’d been an afterthought or nuisance to people her whole life. She wouldn’t let her son live the same second-class existence. Panic began to set in. “Now that I think of it, I’m not sure why I even agreed to go with him—”
“Stop. Hold on.” Carla grabbed her niece by the shoulders and steadied her. “Forget I said anything at all. Of course you have every reason to be upset. Go with him and figure out how to manage your son’s future. And I’ll always be here if you decide to return.”
“If?” Lucy Ann rolled her eyes. “You mean when.”
Carla pointed to the limo and the broad-shouldered man walking toward them. “Do you really think Elliot’s going to want his son to grow up here?”
“Um, I mean, I hadn’t thought…”
True panic set in as Lucy Ann realized she no longer had exclusive say over her baby’s life. Of course Elliot would have different plans for his child. He’d spent his entire life planning how to get out of here, devising ways to build a fortune, and he’d succeeded.
Eli was a part of that now. And no matter how much she wanted to deny it, her life could never be simple again.
Elliot sprawled in the backseat of the limo while Lucy Ann adjusted the straps on Eli’s infant seat, checking each buckle to ensure it fit with obvious seasoned practice. Her loose ponytail swung forward, the dome light bringing out the hints of honey in her light brown hair.
He dug his fingers into the butter-soft leather to keep from stroking the length of her hair, to see if it was as silky as he remembered. He needed to bide his time. He had her and the baby with him. That was a huge victory, especially after their stubborn year apart.
And now?
He had to figure out a way to make her stay. To go back to the way things were…except he knew things couldn’t be exactly the same. Not after they’d slept together. Although he would have to tread warily there. He couldn’t see her cheering over a “friends with benefits” arrangement. He’d have to take it a step at a time to gauge her mood. She needed to be reminded of all the history they shared, all the ways they got along so well.
She tucked a homemade quilt over Eli’s tiny legs before shifting to sit beside him. Elliot knocked on the driver’s window and the vehicle started forward on their journey to the airport.
“Lucy Ann, you didn’t have to stay up late packing that suitcase.” He looked at the discarded cashmere baby blanket she left folded to the side. “I told you I would take care of buying everything he needs.”
His son would never ride a secondhand bike he’d unearthed at the junkyard. A sense of possessiveness stirred inside him. He’d ordered the best of the best for his child—from the car seat to a travel bed. Clothes. Toys. A stroller. He’d consulted his friends’ wives for advice—easy enough since his buddies and their wives were all propagating like rabbits these days.
Apparently, so was he.
Lucy Ann rested a hand on the faded quilt with tiny blue sailboats. “Eli doesn’t know if something is expensive or a bargain. He only knows if something feels or smells familiar. He’s got enough change in his life right now.”
“Is that a dig at me?” He studied her, trying to get a read on her mood. She seemed more reserved than yesterday, worried even.
“Not a dig at all. It’s a fact.” She eyed him with confusion.
“He has you as a constant.”
“Damn straight he does,” she said with a mama-bear ferocity that lit a fire inside him. Her strength, the light in her eyes, stirred him.
Then it hit him. She was in protective mode because she saw him as a threat. She actually thought he might try to take her child away from her. Nothing could be further from the truth. He wanted to parent the child with her.
He angled his head to capture her gaze fully. “I’m not trying to take him away from you. I just want to be a part of his life.”
“Of course. That was always my intention,” she said, her eyes still guarded, wary. “I know trust is difficult right now, but I hope you will believe me that I want you to have regular visitation.”
Ah, already she was trying to set boundaries rather than thinking about possibilities. But he knew better than to fight with her. Finesse always worked better than head-on confrontation. He pointed to the elementary school they’d attended together, the same redbrick building but with a new playground. “We share a lot of history and now we share a son. Even a year apart isn’t going to erase everything else.”
“I understand that.”
“Do you?” He moved closer to her.
Her body went rigid as she held herself still, keeping a couple of inches of space between them. “Remember when we were children, in kindergarten?”
Following her train of thought was tougher than maneuvering through race traffic, but at least she was talking to him. “Which particular day in kindergarten?”
She looked down at her hands twisted in her lap, her nails short and painted with a pretty orange. “You were lying belly flat on a skateboard racing down a hill.”
That day eased to the front of his mind. “I fell off, flat on my ass.” He winced. “Broke my arm.”
“All the girls wanted to sign your cast.” She looked sideways at him, smiling. “Even then you were a chick magnet.”
“They just wanted to use their markers,” he said dismissively.
She looked up to meet his eyes fully for the first time since they’d climbed into the limousine. “I knew that your arm was already broken.”
“You never said a word to me.” He rubbed his forearm absently.
“You would have been embarrassed if I confronted you, and you would have lied to me. We didn’t talk as openly then about our home lives.” She tucked the blanket more securely around the baby’s feet as Eli sucked a pacifier in his sleep. “We were new friends who shared a jelly sandwich at lunch.”
“We were new friends and yet you were right about the arm.” He looked at his son’s tiny hands and wondered how any father could ever strike out at such innocence. Sweat beaded his forehead at even the thought.
“I told my mom though, after school,” Lucy Ann’s eyes fell to his wrist. “She wasn’t as…distant in those days.”
The weight of her gaze was like a stroke along his skin, her words salve to a past wound. “I didn’t know you said anything to anyone.”
“Her word didn’t carry much sway, or maybe she didn’t fight that hard.” She shrugged, the strap of her sundress sliding. “Either way, nothing happened. So I went to the principal.”
“My spunky advocate.” God, he’d missed her. And yet he’d always thought he knew everything about her and here she had something new to share. “Guess that explains why they pulled me out of class to interview me about my arm.”
“You didn’t tell the principal the truth though, did you? I kept waiting for something big to happen. My five-year-old imagination was running wild.”
For one instant in that meeting he had considered talking, but the thoughts of afterward had frozen any words in his throat like a lodged wad of that shared jelly sandwich. “I was still too scared of what would happen to my mother if I talked. Of what he would do to her.”
Sympathy flickered in her brown eyes. “We discussed so many things as kids, always avoiding anything to do with our home lives. Our friendship was a haven for me then.”
He’d felt the same. But that meeting with the principal had made him bolder later, except he’d chosen the wrong person to tell. Someone loyal to his father, which only brought on another beating.
“You had your secrets, too. I could always sense when you were holding back.”
“Then apparently we didn’t have any secrets from each other after all.” She winced, her hand going to her son’s car seat. “Not until this year.”
The limo jostled along a pothole on the country road. Their legs brushed and his arm shot out to rest along the back of her seat. She jolted for an instant, her breath hitching. He stared back, keeping his arm in place until her shoulders relaxed.
“Oh, Elliot.” She sagged back. “We’re a mess, you and I, with screwed-up pasts and not much to go on as an example for building a future.”
The worry coating her words stabbed at him. He cupped her arm lightly, the feel of her so damn right tucked to him. “We need to figure out how to straighten ourselves out to be good parents. For Eli.”
“It won’t be all that difficult to outdo our parents.”
“Eli deserves a lot better than just a step above our folks.” The feel of her hair along his wrist soothed old wounds, the way she’d always done for him. But more than that, the feel of her now, with the new memories, with that night between them…
His pulse pounded in his ears, his body stirring…. He wanted her. And right now, he didn’t see a reason why they couldn’t have everything. They shared a similar past and they shared a child.
He just had to convince Lucy Ann. “I agree with you there. That’s why it’s important for us to use this time together wisely. Figure out how to be the parents he deserves. Figure out how to be a team, the partners he needs.”
“I’m here, in the car with you, committed to spending the next four weeks with you.” She tipped her face up to his, the jasmine scent of her swirling all around him. “What more do you want from me?”
“I want us to be friends again, Lucy Ann,” he answered honestly, his voice raw. “Friends. Not just parents passing a kid back and forth to each other. I want things the way they were before between us.”
Her pupils widened with emotion. “Exactly the way we were before? Is that even possible?”
“Not exactly as before,” he conceded, easy enough to do when he knew his plans for something better between them.
He angled closer, stroking her ponytail over her shoulder in a sweep he wanted to take farther down her back to her waist. He burned all the way to his gut, needing to pull her closer.
“We’ll be friends and more. We can go back to that night together, pick up from there. Because heaven help me, if we’re being totally honest, then yes. I want you back in my bed again.”
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