Against the Edge (The Raines of Wind Canyon) (24 page)

BOOK: Against the Edge (The Raines of Wind Canyon)
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Ben crouched down in front of him. “It’s all right, Sam. I’m not going to hurt Claire. I’d never hurt her. I’d never hurt you, son.” Ben eased the boy into his arms and held him until his small body softened and Sam’s arms went around his neck. Ben gave him a reassuring hug. “We’re just going to talk, okay?”

Sam slowly nodded and Ben released him. He looked up at Claire with his father’s amazing blue eyes. “You’re really gonna stay?”

Her heart thudded softly. She hadn’t expected Ben to like the idea of her staying in Houston. Or maybe she had. Maybe that was the reason it hurt so much to realize how eager he was for her to leave. “I’m staying.”

Sam sank back down in his chair and started eating as if the breakfast she had cooked was the best-tasting food in the world.

When she looked at Ben, he was standing behind his chair, his arms crossed over his powerful chest.

“You’re right,” she said. “We need to talk, but unfortunately, if you’re going to get Sam to school on time, we’ll have to wait till you get back.”

Ben scowled, looked down at the top of Sam’s dark head. “Fine.” He sat back down and the two of them finished their meals, then Ben loaded Sam into the Denali and drove off toward school.

Sam never called Ben
Dad
or
Father.
Mostly he didn’t call him anything. Sam was settling in, trying to get used to his new life. Although he gazed at Ben with a serious case of hero-worship, he didn’t know this man who had rescued him from the swamp.

He wanted to, though. Claire could see it whenever he looked at his dad. He wanted a father, just like any other boy his age. But trust wasn’t that easy for a child who’d been abandoned time and again. Unknowingly by his father before he was born. By his mother, who had died and left him alone. By Claire, who had failed him.

She needed to explain all that to Ben, but she wasn’t sure exactly what to say. She had rented a car when they got to Houston. It crossed her mind to head over to her new apartment, give Ben a chance to cool off a little, get used to the idea that she wasn’t going to leave.

But that was the coward’s way out. Clearly Ben was ready to say goodbye and move on with his life. She had known it was coming. Maybe it was the reason she had put off the discussion so long.

Her heart squeezed. For the first time Claire realized that somewhere deep inside, she had hoped Ben would ask her to stay, that maybe he harbored at least some of the feelings she felt for him.

But she had known from the start he wasn’t a one-woman man, and that wasn’t going to change. She just hadn’t known how badly it was going to hurt.

What a fool she had been.

Ben was the Iceman. He might be a good dad to Sam, but he was hell on women.

Twenty-Six

“I
’ll pick you up when school’s over. You got the cell phone I gave you, right?” In case Sam needed him. Ben held open the door of the Denali and the boy jumped out in the parking lot of his new school, slid the straps of his backpack onto his shoulders. “My number’s programmed. You remember how to use it?”

Sam nodded. “Is Claire really staying?”

Ben’s jaw tightened as he slammed the rear car door. “That’s what she says.”

“You don’t want her to?”

Hell, yeah, part of him did. The part that thought how much he liked waking up with her in his bed, making love to her in the mornings. The part that knew exactly how to arouse her hidden fires, then douse the heat and slow her passions to a tempting simmer.

The other part was terrified of the things she made him feel. He’d told himself that in another few days, a week at most, she would be gone. He would miss her, but he had a son to think of now. In time, he would forget about Claire.

Now she was staying, and he had no idea how to deal with a woman who made him feel things he swore he would never feel again.

He looked down at Sam. “Claire has a life in L.A. If she doesn’t go back, she’ll probably miss her friends.”

Sam watched the kids streaming past him in jeans and T-shirts, carrying backpacks or an armload of books, hurrying toward the front doors of the school.

“I miss my friends. If she stays, I’ll make sure she doesn’t get lonely.”

Ben ran a hand over the boy’s dark hair. Every time he looked at his child, something tightened in his chest. From the moment he’d stared into the picture of a kid with eyes exactly like his own, he’d felt the kick. When he’d seen him in the swamp, his small hands blistered and his jeans stiff with dirt, his heart had expanded with something he had never felt before.

From the moment the kid’s arms had gone around his neck, he couldn’t imagine living another day without his son.

But Claire was different. Claire was a woman. He didn’t need the trouble a woman would bring into his life. He’d done fine without Claire before she’d come along. He’d do fine once she went away.

Ben ignored the part of him that had felt a bone-jarring relief when she’d told him she was staying in Houston. It was just that he’d grown used to having her around. It wasn’t that he admired her for her grit and determination. It wasn’t that he was grateful for the love she felt for his son. It wasn’t that even in a pair of sneakers with her hair clipped back and her jeans rolled up, she made him want her.

And even if those things were true, it didn’t matter.

He wasn’t about to get tangled up with a woman.

Even if that woman was Claire.

Ben headed back to the house, drove around the block a couple of times to get his head straight before he pulled back into the garage and walked into the kitchen. He found Claire waiting. She’d known how angry he was. He wasn’t sure she’d be there. Then again, one thing Claire wasn’t was a coward.

Herc jumped down from her lap as she rose from her chair at the kitchen table. Pepper stood up from his place on the floor, took a long look at the cat, then lay back down and went to sleep.

Ben looked at Claire and found himself wishing she wasn’t wearing her hair loose, the way he liked it. That her soft pink sweater didn’t fit so nicely over her pretty breasts.

His jaw still felt tight. He didn’t like surprises and this was a doozie. “So what is it? You still don’t think I’ll be a good-enough father?”

“I think you’ll be a great father. That isn’t the problem. The trouble is, all of this is new to Sam. Moving to Texas, going to a new school, having to make new friends—living with a man he’s known less than a couple of weeks.”

“In time he’ll get used to me.”

“I’m sure he will. In the meantime, he still isn’t sure he can trust you. He trusted Troy Bragg and look what happened.”

Ben didn’t like the reminder. “So what are you planning to do?”

“Spend time with him. Have him stay overnight on the weekends sometimes—if you’ll let him. His mother has only been dead a few months. I want to be close if he needs me.”

“He’s not your son.”

Silence fell in the room. It was a low blow even for him.

Claire’s chin firmed. “He might have been. If I had continued to press for the adoption. If I hadn’t come to Houston to find you.”

Touché.
He knew she could be tough when it counted. Still, the words shook him. What if Claire hadn’t come? What if she’d kept her promise to Laura, let the police handle Sam’s disappearance as a runaway? Let the boy slip away and never be heard of again? His stomach knotted. He never would have even known he had a son.

If it hadn’t been for Claire.

And everything she had said about Sam was true. The boy needed someone he could trust. Sam wasn’t sure about his father yet. He trusted Claire, and with his mother gone, he needed a woman who loved him.

Claire moved closer, until she stood right in front of him. “I thought we were friends at the very least. You want me gone so much you’re willing to deprive your son of a friend he so desperately needs? Do you want to get rid of me that badly?”

He felt as if she’d struck him. Claire was more than a friend. A helluva lot more. Too much more. That was the trouble.

“Is it another woman? Because that...that won’t be a problem for me. I’ve got my own apartment. A job. We can work out the details so we don’t...don’t have to see each other very often. I’ve known all along you’d get tired of me and want to move on.”

His chest clamped down at what he saw in her eyes. Hurt? Betrayal? Resignation?

Before he could stop himself, he caught her shoulders and jerked her hard against him, crushed his mouth down over hers. He kissed her long and deep, felt the hot rush of desire that happened whenever he touched her.

“I’m not tired of you,” he said gruffly. “Hell, I can’t get enough of you. That’s the problem, Claire. I’m not good at relationships. I’m not cut out for this kind of thing.”

Her eyes glistened. She reached up and cupped his cheek. “I hope you’re wrong, Ben. Because you’re in a very important relationship now. You have a son who needs your love. You’re going to have to learn how to give it. You won’t be able to hold it back from him. Not if you want him to be happy.”

He didn’t reply. She was right. She was the only woman he had ever known who made so damned much sense.

“I’m staying, Ben. Whether you want me to or not.”

He watched her walk off toward the guest room, and that same feeling of relief hit him again. His son needed her, and she wasn’t going to let the boy down. Nothing he said or did was going to send her back to L.A.

Claire Chastain wasn’t going to walk away. Not like Laura had done. Why the thought struck him he didn’t know.

As she pulled open the guest room door, she looked back at him over his shoulder. “Oh, by the way. Your son’s birthday is a week from tomorrow. You might want to get him a gift.” The door closed sharply.

Jesus!
He’d read Sam’s birth certificate. He knew the date his son was born. But he hadn’t even thought of it being the kid’s birthday, and unless Sam mentioned it, he wouldn’t have remembered. He didn’t want to think how Sam would have felt if he had forgotten.

But Claire wouldn’t let him forget. She would be there if Sam needed her. If Ben needed her. He thought of her and their heated kiss and felt a shot of hunger.

It didn’t matter than he didn’t want to want her. It didn’t matter that he didn’t want to get any more tangled up with Claire than he already was.

And deep inside, the hard truth was, he was glad she was going to stay.

* * *

Claire carried a pretty green variegated philodendron into her new apartment. Last week, she’d flown back to L.A., packed her personal belongings, loaded them into her car and started the long drive back to Houston. The movers were almost done loading her furniture when she had pulled out of the driveway.

Mr. Hobbs, her gray-haired manager, waved goodbye. They had talked before about the possibility of her moving, and he had said not to worry, renting a unit in such a desirable location wouldn’t be a problem.

Now she was back in Houston, waiting for the furniture truck to arrive. Ready to start her new job, her new life.

Waiting for the regret to set in.

She had left Los Angeles, given up the near-perfect weather and living a few blocks from the beach. But in truth, she’d been ready to leave long before now. Aside from Laura, she’d made only a few close friends, most of them at work. She would miss Mary Wilson and her neighbors Penny and David, a young couple who lived next door.

After she and Michael had broken up, she’d been ready to make a change, find a new challenge. Then Laura had gotten sick and needed Claire’s help. After her friend had died, there had been Sam’s welfare to consider, getting him settled somewhere while she tried to secure an adoption.

Then Sam had disappeared and Claire had been desperate. Once she’d come to know Ben, she had realized living with his dad would be the best option for Sam. While Ben had been home recovering from the shooting in El Paso, Claire had started making arrangements to move to Houston.

She had made a promise to Laura. She owed it to Sam.

The only real drawback was Ben. Every time she thought of him, her heart hurt. She’d known she was falling in love with him. The moment he had stepped off the boat with Sam in his arms, she had fallen completely over the edge.

She was in love with Ben Slocum. And it was never going to work.

Determined not to think about him, Claire set the potted plant up on one end of the breakfast bar. If it weren’t for Sam, she could go back to L.A., or perhaps somewhere else, but the truth was, Sam needed her.

The only real surprise was that Ben seemed to need her, too. Not that he would ever admit it.

Claire turned at the sound of a knock at the door. The apartment was on the first floor of a two-story complex with a shady yard out in front. Each unit had a single-car garage, and the unit was roomy, with two bedrooms and two full baths, a modern kitchen with granite countertops and a breakfast nook. The living room and dining area had sliding glass doors out to a small enclosed patio.

When the weather warmed up, she looked forward to using the apartment-complex pool, something she hadn’t had in L.A.

The knock sounded again and she started for the door. She expected the moving van to arrive within the hour, but she hadn’t heard the truck pull up. Instead, when she opened the door, Michael Sullivan stood on the porch.

“Hello, Claire.”

Surprise hit her. She had forgotten how handsome he was, how boyishly appealing he could look with a lock of brown hair falling over his eyes and a smile tipping up the corners of his mouth. “Michael. For heaven’s sake, what are you doing in Texas?”

“May I come in?”

“Of course.” She stepped back, inviting him inside. “My furniture hasn’t even arrived yet. It’s supposed to be here this afternoon.”

Dressed in khakis and a yellow polo shirt, Michael carefully wiped his feet on the mat and walked into the apartment. She couldn’t help thinking of Ben, his face streaked with black paint and covered head to foot in swamp water, hard-edged and tough, more masculine and appealing than any man had a right to be.

“I went to see you when I got back to L.A.,” Michael said. “The landlord told me you’d moved to Houston.”

“Sam’s here,” she said lamely, as if that were answer enough.

“You said the guy in your apartment that night was his father. Why isn’t Sam living with him?”

“He is, but...it’s complicated.”

“I realize you and Laura were close. But isn’t giving up your job and moving to another state a little over-the-top?”

She stiffened. “I promised Laura I’d look after Sam. It’s a promise I intend to keep.”

“What about Slocum? I know the two of you traveled across the country together looking for the boy.”

“How did you know about that?”

“I know a lot of things, Claire. I know about Sam’s abduction. I know Slocum and a guy named Tyler Brodie found him and brought him back. You were with them. I’m a reporter, remember?”

“Then you understand why I moved to Houston.”

He glanced around the near-empty apartment. “You aren’t living with him. Are the two of you involved?”

“No.”

“Yes.” Ben appeared in the doorway and pushed open the door. She hadn’t realized she had left it ajar. Her heart took a leap as he approached her, clean shaven, his black hair cut short once more. He stopped so close she could feel the heat of his hard body, smell his aftershave.

“We’re sleeping together,” he said. “You’re a reporter. Maybe you found that out, too.”

“We aren’t sleeping together,” Claire said. “Not anymore.”

Michael smiled at Claire. “That’s good. Because I just took an assignment here in Houston. I want us to spend some time together.” His gaze met Ben’s. “Claire and I have a lot to talk about. I’m sure you’ll be busy with your son.”

Ben’s eyes took on the feral gleam she had seen the night he had gone after Sam. “I’ll be busy. Not too busy for Claire.” He turned in her direction. “Sam’s party’s at six. I’ll pick you up at a quarter to.”

He didn’t wait for a response, just turned and strode out of the apartment. Claire’s heart was still pounding when Ben closed the door. She knew about the birthday party at Sage and Jake’s on Tuesday night, of course. Sam had called to tell her. It was the first real excitement she had heard in his voice since he had come back from the bayou.

“Claire?”

Her attention swung back to Michael. She had almost forgotten he was there. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked, determined not to be rude. “I just made a pot.”

“That’d be great.”

She didn’t really want to talk to Michael, but he wasn’t leaving her much choice. She poured him a cup, and a fresh cup for herself, and they sat down on the stools she had purchased for the breakfast bar.

She took a sip of her coffee. “You said you took a new assignment. What is it?”

“Actually, it’s connected with the exposé I was working on in Colombia. Houston has a drug trafficking problem. I made a few contacts in South America, the kind of people who know what’s going on. I’ll be doing some digging, trying to connect the dots. If I can, it could be big, Claire. Really big.”

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