Chapter Eleven #2
If he’d stopped touching her, she might have been able to lie. But he continued to hold her face, occasionally stroking her cheek with his thumb. The warm caress, more comforting than anything else, wore her down.
“Not Billie,” she admitted. “Somehow she got the best of both of our families. I know in my heart she’ll be fine.”
“Then what?”
They stood alone in her kitchen. It wasn’t the least bit romantic, what with raw vegetables scattered around on the counter and the sound of their daughter playing in the backyard. Yet she felt in tune with Adam. Perhaps he would understand.
“It’s not my finest hour,” she said tentatively, waiting to gauge his reaction.
“Are you waiting for a promise that I won’t judge you?”
She nodded.
His brown eyes searched her face. He struggled with her request. She saw the battle rage in his eyes. Then she saw victory. Her victory, and it tasted sweeter than she would have imagined.
“I give you my word.”
How ironic. She’d given hers once, and it’d had no value. Yet she would risk her life on the strength of Adam’s word.
“I’m afraid of losing Billie.”
“But you said you thought she’d be fine.”
“Not to anything bad. To you.”
He frowned. “I don’t understand.”
She started to step away, but he tightened his hold on her face just enough to let her know he wanted her to stay. She relaxed. He eased her forward, slipping his hand around her neck and under her braid, until she rested against his side. His arm came around to hold her close.
“I’ve always been first in her life. The only constant in a changing world. That’s all about to change. She likes you already, Adam. She can’t help but grow to love you.”
“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.”