Chapter 16
Jillian heard Zane’s teeth snap together with an audible click. “ Well, hell,” he muttered under his breath.
Recovering with admirable speed, he extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Stevens.”
“I knocked,” she said. “But you must have been too preoccupied to hear. Luckily, Jillian arrived before I left.”
“Yeah,” Zane replied. “Sorry. We’re having a late lunch. And believe me, it’s no picnic.”
“Hi!” Robbie chirped. “Zane let us fix our own lunch.”
“He’s awesome, ” Donnie added. “For a rookie.”
Jillian looked at Zane’s weary eyes, rumpled clothes, and electric-chair hairdo. Obviously, his small charges had run him through the blender. Under less serious circumstances, she might have laughed. Worry about what Mrs. Stevens would think killed the urge. Her gaze settled on three gigantic boxes of extra-strength ibuprofen stacked on the counter. “Rough afternoon?”
“You could say that.” Zane heaved a sigh. “I don’t know how you moms do it day after day. There’s not enough ibuprofen in the western hemisphere.”
Mrs. Stevens gave him a thin smile. “Parenthood isn’t for cowards.”
“You can tattoo that on my aching forehead.” Zane pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sure you’ll find the living room much more comfortable while I clean up here.”
Mrs. Stevens shifted her briefcase to the other hand. “I’d like to speak to you alone first. After that I’ll speak to both of you together, then Casey, then Jillian.”
Zane nodded. “All right. How about some iced tea? There’s a pitcher in the fridge.”
Mrs. Stevens cast a dubious glance at Robbie, naked and submerged to the armpit in purple Kool-Aid.
Zane flashed one of his irresistible smiles. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Stevens, Jillian made the tea.”
Mrs. Stevens chuckled dryly. “In that case, I’d love some.”
“Have a seat in the living room. I’ll bring it in.”
The other woman strolled out, and Jillian set her purse on the counter, carefully avoiding the mess. “How did you end up with the dynamic duo?”
“I’m still not quite sure. It was a sneak blitz.”
Jillian frowned. “I saw their mother’s car pull into their driveway as I headed in. Casey and I can walk them home while you talk to Mrs. Stevens.”
“What kind of read did you get on her?”
“She seems firmly no-nonsense, but hopefully, she’s open-minded.”
“Perfect time for her to show up.” He waved at the trashed kitchen. “She’s gonna fry my ass.”
Jillian decided not to admit her anxiety that the caseworker would do just that. “She’s familiar with the ways of children. Have faith.”
He grimaced. “Damn, the world must look all bright and shiny through rose-colored glasses.”
“You can borrow them anytime you’d like.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “I’ll take the boys home. Go charm the skirt off Mrs. Stevens.”
He peered through the doorway and hissed a soft curse. “Maybe literally. She just sat on the wet couch cushion.”
“How did the couch—” She clamped her lips together. “Never mind.”
Jillian tried to set aside stomach-churning concern while she shook out Robbie’s sugar-coated clothes and dressed him, then she and Casey hustled the boys home. Beneath the dented armor, her shadowed knight had a kind heart, courageous spirit and impeccable honor. If Mrs. Stevens was any judge of character she couldn’t fail to see Zane’s true nature.
Jillian and Casey returned via the back door. She fixed Casey a sandwich and a glass of milk and settled him at the table. While the child ate, she fidgeted. How long would the caseworker talk to Zane? She poured an iced tea but didn’t drink it.
After an eternity, Zane called her into the living room.
She turned to Casey, who was now coloring. “Casey, please stay at the table for a little bit, okay?”
Tea in hand, she strode in, forcing a confident smile. She sat close to Zane on the sofa, conscious of the need for a unified appearance. Though he appeared outwardly relaxed, tension radiated from his lean-muscled frame.
Opposite them in the overstuffed chair, Mrs. Stevens sipped her tea. “So when do the two of you plan to inform Casey that Zane is his biological father?”
Jillian shot a nervous glance at the kitchen before looking at Zane. Holy crap, what if Casey overheard?
Because she understood Zane’s thoughts nearly as well as her own by now, she recognized the flare of when-hell-hosts-an-ice-skating-party in his eyes.
She licked dry lips and jumped in to answer, “When he’s emotionally secure enough that the news won’t adversely affect him.” The caseworker didn’t need to know Jillian wasn’t referring to the child, but his father.
Mrs. Stevens made a notation on the legal pad in her lap. “Zane, according to your profile, you’ve lived alone for a long time. How are you adjusting to being part of this family?”
He cleared his throat. “I’d be lying if I said it was easy, but we make more headway every day.”
“And you have no resentment about suddenly being thrust into the role of Casey’s father?”
Beside Jillian, he swallowed hard. “He’s my responsibility.”
The caseworker’s cool gray eyes sharpened. “And that unsettles you.”
He swallowed again. “A little. But I won’t let him down. I’ll do whatever is necessary to ensure he’s happy and safe.”
Jillian read the double meaning behind his words, and her heart ached. He still thought he couldn’t make his own son happy or safe and planned to leave the moment they established custody.
Mrs. Stevens made another notation. Though Jillian surreptitiously strained to see, she couldn’t decipher the scribbled comments.
Time dragged. Jillian tucked her hair behind her ear and fiddled with her cuticles as she and Zane carefully answered question after question.
Without warning, his big, warm hand captured one of hers and drew it over to rest on his hard thigh. Heat radiated from his muscular leg through the soft denim. Enclosed in his strong but gentle grasp, her fingers tingled. The warm, feathery sensation spread up her arm and rippled down her spine.
She tried to hide her shiver of reaction by taking a drink of tea. He wasn’t trying to put the moves on her. He’d done it to stop her telltale fidgeting, and perhaps assure Mrs. Stevens they were intimate. As a real married couple should be.
As Jillian wished they truly were.
She choked on her tea, inhaling a piece of ice. Panicked, she flailed her hands.
Concern darkening his eyes, Zane scooped the sloshing glass from her hand to the coffee table. “Hey, you okay?”
She swallowed hard, and the ice burned down her windpipe and into her stomach. She sputtered and coughed. Involuntary tears spilled down her cheeks.
He patted her back. “Easy. Take a nice, slow breath.”
Shaking, she clutched his shirt, and his arms closed around her. “Relax, sweetheart. You’re all right.”
Jillian rested her cheek on Zane’s wide chest and closed her eyes. Yes, she was all right. Now. For one sweet moment, she forgot everything but the safe haven of being held in his arms. His body heat warmed her face comfortingly through the soft cotton. She listened to the strong thud of his heart and wanted to stay right there, forever.
“Jillian?” Mrs. Steven’s worried voice dragged her back to reality. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she managed to croak, her throat still raw. “I accidentally swallowed some ice.”
Mrs. Stevens frowned. “Oh dear, that smarts.”
“You’re telling me.” She reluctantly pulled away from Zane and wiped her streaming eyes with her hand.
Keeping one arm around her, Zane handed her a napkin from the coffee table. “Here.”
“Thank you.” She blinked away the remaining tears and turned to face the caseworker. “Where were we?”
“We’re all done. I’d like to speak to Casey now.”
In response to Jillian’s summons, Casey skipped into the room. He climbed onto Zane’s lap without hesitation, as if he sat there every day. Zane shifted to accommodate the child’s slight weight. He didn’t tense up, and his free arm slid easily around Casey’s waist. She smiled inwardly. More progress. Apparently, the day hadn’t been quite as disastrous as the ravaged kitchen implied.
They gave the illusion of a cozy family, and she wished again with all her heart it was real.
“Case, this is Mrs. Stevens.” Jillian patted the little bony knee. “She wants to ask you some questions.”
Mrs. Stevens smiled at Casey. “Sorry to disturb you when you look so comfortable, but I’m finished with Zane, so he needs to go in the other room.”
Casey’s eyes, so much like his father’s, squinted in suspicion. “Why?” His expression was a tiny mirror image of the man who held him, making Jillian’s heart turn over.
“Well, because I want to talk to you about him and I don’t want either of you to feel awkward.”
Casey frowned. “Don’t ya know it’s mean to talk about people behind their backs? My Sunday school teacher said God said so.”
Jillian smothered a grin. “It’s okay because we have Zane’s permission.”
“And I have a kitchen to clean, pal.” Zane ruffled Casey’s hair. His somber gaze sent a private message that echoed Jillian’s hopes and fears as he handed the little boy to her.
Zane left, and Mrs. Stevens didn’t waste any time. “Casey, do you know what it means to tell the truth?”
Casey snorted in disdain. “Course I do. Lying is bad. My Sunday school teacher said God said so. It’s one of the ten demandments He gave that Moses guy.”
Mrs. Stevens nodded. “So I want you to tell me the absolute truth, and not worry about getting in trouble for any of your answers. Okay?”
Jillian’s stomach dive-bombed. This part of the interview was so crucial. One misunderstood statement, one awkward slip, and they were sunk.
Mrs. Stevens turned up a fresh sheet in her legal pad. “How do you feel about Zane?”
“He’s my bestest friend. I only just used to like him, but now I love him.”
Jillian blinked back tears, both touched and upset. Casey would be devastated when Zane left. As would she. What a pair they’d make, grieving for a man neither of them could be with. She squared her shoulders. He hadn’t left yet. As long as Zane was here, she had hope.
“Is there anything about him that makes you uncomfortable?”
Casey scrunched up his face. “Nope. He’s regular.”
Mrs. Stevens chuckled quietly. “Has he ever done or said anything that upset you, or made you nervous or worried?”
“Well, today at Super Value-World I felt all squiggly inside. I wanted to go get my turbo blaster and he kept shopping for dumb groceries and junk.” He hung his head and his voice grew quiet. “I ran off to look at it. I scared him a whole lot and he punished me.”
Jillian bit her lip. Zane wouldn’t strike a child. What discipline had he meted out?
“What did he do?” Mrs. Steven’s question echoed Jillian’s thoughts.
“He told me I had to stay with a grownup ‘cause it wasn’t safe. Stranger danger, you know. I had forgot about stranger danger for a minute, ‘cause I was thinking excited about my water blaster. So he put me in the timeout chair for the minutes he spent looking for me and worrying. It was a real long worry.”
“Did you get your water blaster?”
“He bought it, but he put it up for a week. I have to wait to play with it.”
“And how do you feel about what happened?”
Jillian didn’t know about Casey, but she was so proud of Zane. He’d been thrown into a difficult situation that would have tossed anyone for a loop, and he’d handled it extremely well.
“He did a grownup thing. He was worried about me and wanted to keep me safe. But I still wish I could have my water blaster today.”
The little boy suddenly turned to Jillian with a wide grin. “I almost forgot. Look! I lost my tooth! I swallowed it, and then I cried, ‘cause I was scared the Tooth Fairy wouldn’t bring me any money. But Zane fixed it.”
Poor Zane. He’d dealt with several crises. Jillian hugged Casey. The child was growing up so fast. “How did he fix it?”
“Zane drew the Tooth Fairy a picture.” He pulled a sheet of notepaper from his pants pocket. “About me!”
A lump formed in Jillian’s throat as she studied the adorable images. Zane had perfectly captured the child’s exuberant essence on paper.
Mrs. Stevens asked Casey enough questions to fill three pages with notes before moving on to inquire about Richard and Brooke. His answers about Zane were positive. But Jillian found out some things Casey hadn’t told her about Richard and Brooke’s treatment of the little boy. Things that had her clenching her fists.
Mrs. Stevens flipped her notepad shut and rose. “Thank you for your time, Casey. Jillian, before I go, I’d like to see your home, especially Casey’s room, and I’ll talk to you as we walk around. I’ve already interviewed Doctor and Mrs. Stuart. Both sides’ attorneys have requested a rush on my report, and I’ll be filing it as soon as possible.”
Jillian searched the caseworker’s facial expression for clues, but found none. She showed Mrs. Stevens around, including Casey’s bedroom with the incomplete mural. Between the custody issues, her headlong rush into matrimony, the upheaval at the center, and the fundraising gala, she hadn’t had a spare minute to work on the painting. Now that she’d seen Zane’s talent, she was going to try to convince him to help.
Back downstairs, Mrs. Stevens loved the small room that Jillian had converted to an exercise/dance studio. “This is wonderful!”
“It is, isn’t it? My dad put up the mirrored panels, installed the barre, and wired a state-of-the-art sound system. I do dance aerobics on the wood floor and meditation on the mat. Casey likes to exercise in here with me.”
“I can see why.” After a final glance around, Mrs. Stevens turned toward the doorway. “I’d like to say good-bye to Zane.”
Jillian led the other woman to the kitchen. The amazing Zane had put his nervous energy and organizational skills to good use and had righted the chaos.
Mrs. Stevens said her farewells, and Jillian let her out. Trembling with a combination of relief, frustration and anxiety, she returned to the kitchen. “Whew! I’m glad that’s over.”
Casey cocked his head. “Boy, she sure was nosey company.”
Zane’s gaze slid to the perceptive child. “Casey, why don’t you go tuck the note for the Tooth Fairy under your pillow so it doesn’t get lost? And maybe while you’re up there, you should pick up your toys so she finds a nice clean room when she gets here.”
“Great idea!” Casey zoomed out and his feet pounded up the stairs.
Features taut, Zane propped a hip against the counter. “How did it go?”
“I couldn’t tell. Okay, I hope.” She smiled. “Casey told us what happened in the store. You did exactly the right thing.”
Guilt and fear slashed his face. “I shouldn’t have let him out of my sight. If anything had happened to him—” His nostrils flared. “I ... it’s unthinkable. I’ve read enough abduction reports. I should have known better.”
“It’s not your fault.” She moved closer, rested her hand on his forearm, his rigid muscles like steel under her fingers.
He grimaced. “The hell it’s not!”
“If you’ve read the reports, you know it only takes half a second to lose track of a lively kid. I’ve done it myself, more than once.”
“That’s no excuse. I screwed up. Then I screwed up again when I turned the rugrats loose in the kitchen.” He drew a shaky breath. “I might have cost us custody.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.”
“I haven’t been acting like myself, haven’t been thinking like myself.” He shook his head. “Between you and the kid, you’ve driven me right out of my ever-lovin’ mind.”
Whether he knew it or not, that was a huge compliment. Restrained, always-in-control Zane was behaving totally out of character. His heart was finally overruling his head.
“You handled everything perfectly and it’s obvious Casey respects you even more now. Kids appreciate limits, it makes them feel secure. And in spite of the mess, the boys had fun fixing their own lunch. Let’s not jump off the deep end. If Mrs. Stevens admires you half as much as I do, we’re in.”
Wariness warred with acceptance in his gaze. It was apparent he’d expected her condemnation. He looked like he wanted to believe her, but couldn’t quite let himself off the hook. “Thank you.”
His astonished gratitude tightened her throat. Her tough, confident warrior hid so much vulnerability and hurt. “I saw the Tooth Fairy note.” She smiled. “That was sweet, thank you. ”
“It wasn’t that much.”
“Are you kidding? You’ve got real talent. I’m sure you’ve noticed Casey is always drawing, and he’s way better than average at it for his age. He got that from you.”
“My … ah … my mom was an artist. Oils. She was brilliant.”
“Did she paint professionally?”
His gaze dropped, his body tensed. “For a short time, and her pieces sold for a stunning price for a newbie. Then she met my old man. She was so young, so vulnerable after losing her parents, and I guess his commanding presence seemed like a port in a storm. But he was obsessed with perfection, and demanded she set aside everything to become the ultimate, perfect corporate wife. She quietly encouraged me to keep painting and drawing, even though Stoneheart despised having his sons do anything he considered ‘sissified.’”
Zane’s moniker for his father said it all … and made Jillian’s heart hurt. She held her breath and her silence, not wanting to shatter the moment. For the first time, he was voluntarily sharing about his childhood.
“She was beautiful. She’d won the Miss Kansas pageant right before her parents died. She was a knockout in a cocktail dress, had a charmed smile, and knew how to focus a conversation on the other person and make them feel important—a real asset to the old man’s career.” He paused. “Unfortunately, she also became hooked on tranquilizers. Along with booze. The crutches helped her cope. Didn’t make her a very effective mother, though. She was never stoned or drunk in public, but at home she was always out of it.”
Jillian gently squeezed his arm. So he’d never received support from either parent. “I’m sorry.”
“We managed. We had housekeepers, though none of them stayed very long. They had the option of leaving when my old man went on a tear, and took it. By the dozens. Too bad we didn’t have the same option.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “No matter how hard Mom tried, how beautiful and charming she was, it wasn’t good enough for Stoneheart. He used to lash out at her, pick her apart piece by critical piece like a goddamned vulture, and make her cry. And I’d feel so helpless, I wanted to—” He choked off his words.
Jillian wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. Drawing had to be difficult for him after what had happened with his mom. Yet he’d set aside his own discomfort for his son. And he’d just freely opened himself up to her.
Another two steps forward.
* * *
From the open kitchen window, Jillian listened to the conversation between Casey and Zane, who was lobbing softballs to him in the back yard while she peeled husks off the corn she planned to grill for dinner. The long strand of pearls dangled in front of her nearly to her waist, and she leaned back a bit more to keep them out of the way. She should probably take them off, but wearing Zane’s gift made her feel as if his hands were caressing her.
“Aunt Jelly, come quick!” Casey’s excited squeal pierced the balmy summer breeze. “I caught it! I finally caught the ball! ”
She sprinted outside. A beaming smile creased Casey’s small face as he held up the softball. “I can’t wait to show Robbie Ray and Donnie Ray what Zane taught me! The other guys won’t laugh at me any more now!”
Zane’s proud grin matched his son’s. “See? I told you with regular practice, you wouldn’t be afraid anymore. You keep practicing and one of these days, you’ll be a major leaguer.”
Casey’s grin widened. “Ya think?”
“Yeah.” Zane gave Casey a spontaneous hug.
Jillian’s heart turned over. Zane’s wall of reserve was crumbling stone by reluctant stone.
Zane pointed. “Head across the lawn, and I’ll come show you some pointers about pitching.”
Casey scurried to get into position, and Jillian caught Zane’s arm. “You’re so good with him. He really looks up to you.”
Fear and pleasure chased across Zane’s face. “Do you think so?” he asked in an unconscious adult version of his son’s familiar question.
“I know so.”
Buoyant with hope, she made a plate of hamburger patties, and carried them outside to the barbecue. The patties hit the hot grill with a hiss, and savory smoke tickled her nose. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Casey sprint to the edge of the lawn, chasing the ball.
“Mmm.” Zane’s low voice spoke from right behind her. His body heat radiated along her spine, his breath tingled over her neck. “That smells heavenly. I’m starving.”
She jumped. “Yikes! You startled me.”
His husky laugh rumbled in her ear. “Sorry. I thought you heard me.”
“How? You walk like a cat.” She turned slightly, catching his warm brown gaze with her own. Such beautiful, expressive eyes. Right now, they spoke volumes of appreciation. And not for the burgers. Her heart stuttered. She wanted to throw him down and ravish him.
And from the ravenous way he was looking at her, she doubted he’d object.
She took a step away. Whew, cool it, Jillian, before Casey gets another eyeful.
“Zane!” Casey appeared at their side, waving the ball and hopping from one sneakered foot to the other. “C’mon!”
Grinning at her, Zane let Casey tug him to the center of the lawn.
Zane and Casey set the table, and Jillian finished cooking the burgers and corn while the guys carried out the salad and baked beans.
Velvety blue twilight tinged the pink and orange sky. Jillian lit a chunky white candle inside a wind-proof globe, added a bouquet of crimson roses from a backyard bush that had escaped being vandalized.
Zane slid into a chair opposite her, and Casey scrambled into the chair beside him. The child squirmed in his seat and chattered a rapid-fire stream, obviously over-excited about his new triumph.
Casey jostled Zane’s plate, and Zane straightened it. “Easy there, buddy.”
Waving his fork around, Casey dropped a blob of baked beans on Zane’s arm. “Oops.”
“Casey,” Zane gritted between his teeth as he wiped his arm with a napkin. “Chill out.”
“Can we play more ball after dinner, can we? Huh, Zane?”
“I think we’ve both had enough for today.”
“Awww … I wanna play more!”
Jillian patted Casey’s hand from across the table. “Settle down and eat your dinner, sweetie.”
“I’m not a baby anymore! Don’t call me that baby name, Aunt Jelly!” Casey flung out his hand, knocking over his glass of milk and flipping his plate into the air. The plate landed upside down in Zane’s lap.
Stunned silence descended as milk dripped off the table’s edge, puddling in the mess on Zane’s jeans.
Zane’s nostrils flared. “ Casey! ” he roared.
“Oops,” Casey whispered. “Sorry.”
Irritation flashed in Zane’s eyes. His jaw clenched.
“It wasn’t on purpose. Don’t be mad at me, Zane.”
Zane’s throat worked. He took a deep breath. Then two more. He grabbed another napkin and began to wipe off his jeans. “I can’t say I’m real happy with you right now,” he said in a strained voice. “I know it wasn’t on purpose. But if you can’t sit still at the table with us, maybe you need to eat on the deck steps by yourself.”
Casey nodded vigorously. “I can. I can sit still now, I promise.”
Zane stood, shaking out his pants. “We’ll see. Now go get the roll of paper towels off the kitchen counter and clean up this mess while I change.”
As Zane turned to walk into the house, Jillian gave him a beaming smile. He shot her a puzzled glance, the bewildered look in his eyes saying he didn’t know why she was grinning at him. But she was so proud of him. He was learning how to be a great dad.
If only she could convince him of that fact.
Aragorn snuck outside as Zane went in and took the opportunity to scarf down Casey’s fallen hamburger patty. After she scooped up the cat and marched him back inside, she supervised Casey while he dealt with the spill. She’d have to do a more thorough job later, but he cleaned with all the ability and gusto he possessed.
She fixed another plate for the little boy.
A subdued Zane returned wearing clean clothes, and resumed his seat. “Good thing I went shopping today.”
Casey stared up at him apprehensively. “Do you still like me, Zane?”
He ruffled the child’s hair. “Of course. Everybody makes mistakes.”
“Even you?”
“Yeah.” Zane gave his son a grim look. “I do.”
Casey sat and obediently finished his meal. And although Zane was cordial, he remained withdrawn despite Jillian’s attempts to draw him out.
Stars popped out, winking like brilliant diamonds in the deep blue velvet August sky. Zane pointed upward. “There’s the big dipper.”
Casey craned his head back. “A big zipper? Where?”
Zane chuckled quietly. “The big dipper. It’s a constellation.” He traced the outline with his finger. “It looks like a spoon.”
“Ooh,” Casey breathed, entranced. “Awesome.”
Zane’s smile at the little boy was tender. “Would you like to see more?”
Jillian rose. “That will be a perfect pre-bed activity, after Casey’s bath.”
“Aww.” Casey groaned, loud and long. “Do I gotta?”
Zane stood and began stacking the dishes. “You go take your bath, and I’ll clean up here. If we both hurry, we should be finished at the same time.”
“‘Kay!” Casey scrambled off the bench and tore into the house. “C’mon, Aunt Jelly, let’s get this bath done.”
Zane’s promise worked wonders, making it the fastest, easiest bath and shampoo on record. Casey skipped outside in his pajamas, clean and fresh, hair still slightly damp.
She mopped up the inevitable puddles on the bathroom floor, and tossed the soggy towels in the hamper. Loud knocking sent her running to the front door. Now what?
She swung it open and Richard strode inside.
“I’m here to pick up Casey for an overnight.”
Annoyance grated through her. “You’re supposed to give me twenty-four hours advance notice.”
“There’s a hospital picnic tomorrow.” He grimaced. “I wasn’t planning to attend both that and the gala, but my morning surgery canceled. It’s a family event, and everyone else is bringing their children. If he’s not there it will look bad.”
So once again, he wanted to trot Casey out on display to bolster his image. She gritted her teeth. “I want to talk to you. I’ve made you aware of the effect your negative criticism has on Casey, but you continue to hammer him verbally. Now I hear you’re spanking him. And did you know Brooke has been spanking him with a wooden spoon and sending him to bed without dinner?”
He shrugged. “Children need discipline.”
“Not that kind.”
“You do it your way and we’ll do it our way. Go fetch him, and make it snappy.”
“No.”
His eyes darkened. “What do you mean, no?” He took a step toward her. “Get him, now. Or I will.”
She raised her chin. “You and Brooke are mistreating him. You can’t have him.”
“Deb bought into that namby-pamby psychobabble, and look at the result. The kid is a whiner with no backbone.” He pushed past her. “You won’t get him? Fine, I will.”
Zane strode into the room from the kitchen. Blocking the doorway, he stopped Richard in his tracks.
Jillian glanced worriedly behind him. “Where’s Casey?”
“I heard voices and told him to wait for me on the deck while I checked it out.” He stared at Richard. “I assume you comprehend the word no. ”
Crimson streaks surged into Richard’s aristocratic cheekbones. “The court-ordered visitation gives me overnight privileges twice a month, a week at Christmas break, and a month during summer vacation.”
Zane stepped closer, invading Richard’s space. “You’re not taking him. Not now, not ever.”
White mottled Richard’s face mixing with the flush of anger. “You have no right to deny me.”
“I have every right.” Zane’s fists clenched, his voice low and lethal. “I’m his father.”
“Some father. You were absent during his formative years, and now you think you can muscle in and take over? What do you know about parenting? You have no experience.” Richard’s disdainful hazel gaze raked Zane from head to toe. “And judging by your aggressive behavior, your father didn’t do a stellar job. If you follow his shining example, my nephew is doomed.”
Zane paled, inhaled sharply.
Richard couldn’t have scored a more harmful direct hit. Vibrating with rage, Jillian planted both palms on Richard’s chest and shoved. “Get out of my house, you pompous bully.”
Richard shoved her back roughly enough to make her stumble. “Careful, Jillian. Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
Zane stepped between them, swiftly maneuvered her behind him. Fury radiated off his big body as he stood between her and Richard. “Touch her again, and we’ll see how well you operate with two broken fucking hands.”
“Violence is your answer to everything, isn’t it?” Richard taunted.
Jillian pressed trembling lips together. A rare flash of her temper had put Zane in an untenable position. “Look, let’s all just calm down and—”
“Are you giving me the damned brat?” Richard demanded.
“No,” Jillian and Zane both said at the same time.
Richard sneered. “Refusing visitation, threats, attempted assault,” he ground out. “Oh, you two will look like perfect parents in court.”
“Leave.” Zane’s quiet order was rock steady … and ice-cold. “While you’re still able.”
“I’m calling my attorney.” Richard whirled and stalked out, slamming the door behind him.
Zane turned to look at Jillian and the wounded look in his eyes sliced her to ribbons. “Zane—”
A shudder wracked his lean frame. “He’s right.” The shaky admission sounded wrenched from his soul. “I’d begun to hope that maybe …” He swallowed. “But my family history … I can’t be involved in Casey’s life.”
“Don’t listen to that idiot’s ridiculous lies. You’ve been doing great.”
“Dumb luck.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t call losing the kid in the store, forgetting to feed him, and turning a bunch of curtain-climbers loose in the kitchen ‘doing great.’”
“That’s not true! You’re a natural. And if you’re really worried about it, there are plenty of how-to books and videos and parenting classes.”
He shook his head. “You don’t know how close I came to losing it at dinner and reaming him out.”
“But you didn’t. You kept your temper—”
“This time.” Raw pain shadowed his irises, regret thrummed in his voice. “But it’s only a matter of time until I pull a major screw-up and do or say something that really hurts him.”
“Zane, abuse is behavioral, not hereditary. You’ve shown no signs of being abusive, in any way.”
He turned his back on her. “It’s getting late, and I need to keep my promise to show him those constellations.” He strode out.
Trembling, she stumbled to the darkened kitchen. Zane had cleaned up everything and loaded the dishwasher, leaving her nothing to do. She propped her elbows on the counter and stared out through the open window. The ocean’s muted hum and the warm summer breeze wafted over her. Crickets chirped a sing-song chorus from the bushes.
They’d suffered a damaging setback, but she was more determined than ever to prove Zane wrong.
Because he was wrong. The proof was in front of her eyes.
A crescent moon illuminated the backyard. She watched as Zane settled into one of the chaise lounges on the deck. Casey climbed up beside him, and Zane supported the child by sliding an arm around him.
Their conversation carried clearly in the quiet night. Gilded silver by the moonlight, Casey’s small face looked raptly skyward while Zane held his son and pointed out constellations. Casey’s high-pitched voice echoed Zane’s deeper one as he repeated every name.
The little boy and the man had more in common than they realized. Both had suffered loss.
Both craved love and affection.
Each one needed the other.
She wasn’t about to give up on either of them.
Casey’s voice grew soft and blurry. Safe and content in Zane’s arms, he was falling asleep.
“My daddy is up there,” he murmured.
“Where?” Zane asked, his expression startled. “In Heaven?”
“No, he’s flying around in the stars. He’s a rebel smuggler like Han Solo, fighting the bad guys. That’s why he can’t be with me.”
Jillian pressed trembling lips together. Deb had told Casey his father was absent because he had a very dangerous, important job. The child’s imagination had obviously embellished the rest. That certainly explained his fascination with Star Wars .
Zane inhaled a shuddering breath. “Your dad would be here if he could.” He paused. “It’s not because he doesn’t want to.”
“Ya think?” Casey’s words sounded slurred. He was nearly asleep. “He has a real important job, keeping everybody safe. But I miss him.”
Zane didn’t say anything for a long time. The slow rise and fall of Casey’s chest indicated the child had succumbed to slumber.
Finally, Zane bent and tenderly kissed his sleeping son’s forehead. “He’s going to miss you too,” he whispered shakily. A single tear slid down his cheek and dropped into Casey’s silky hair.
Jillian stood unmoving, heart pounding as her tears flowed freely. She’d seen glimpses of Zane’s wicked humor, as well as the soft side he hid behind a stoic wall of hurt. Caring, protective, wryly humorous Zane was the man she was undeniably attracted to. The man she’d bonded with.
But here in front of her, his soul laid bare, was the tender warrior she loved with all her heart.