Shooting the Moon (12 page)

“Has he heard from Brandon?”

“Not since school. He hasn’t been out of his room. I won’t let him come out until it’s clean, so it might be a while.”

“Thanks,” she said and hung up to call Harley. She needed to put him off for a few minutes, needed to find Brandon and—

The roar of a motorcycle intruded on the music. He was here! He was here ten minutes early when she needed him to be ten or even twenty minutes late!

Lauren set her empty wineglass down and stood to the side of the window so she could watch Harley approach without being seen. He wasn’t wearing a suit today. He wasn’t carrying any presents. He was wearing the faded blue jeans that looked so good on him and a simple T-shirt. No frills. No fuss. No jacket. The temperature had soared into the lower nineties this afternoon, prolonging the unusual heat wave that made it much too hot for leather, even when riding a motorcycle.

He stood on the porch for a few seconds before ringing the bell and Lauren wondered what he was feeling. Was he as nervous as she was? She doubted it. Given the circumstances, he probably felt some apprehension, but he looked as cool and calm as a deep, still lake. On the other hand, he always looked cool and completely in control. That was part of his appeal.

The doorbell sounded, and Lauren took a shaky breath. So he was a little early. It wasn’t the end of the world, right? Brandon would be home soon, and then…and then she’d just have to see how the two of them got on. She wouldn’t have the chance to prepare her nephew for his
surprise, but he’d already told her he wanted to meet his dad. Tonight he was going to get that wish—in spite of her father.

“Hello, come in,” she said, opening the door and stepping back to admit him.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, as though he felt like Daniel about to step into the lion’s den, but then he angled his shoulders to fit past her and stood in the living room, making the whole place feel smaller for his dominating presence.

“Where’s Brandon?” he asked, his eyes quickly scanning all points of entry.

“He’s a little late, but he’ll be home any minute.”

He nodded, his right hand fiddling with the keys to his bike, and Lauren realized he
was
nervous. The implacable Harley Nelson felt as uncomfortable as she did.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she said, trying to make small talk so they could both relax. “I’ve got dinner ready.”

“I ate before I came over.”

Great. Well, that was probably her fault. She hadn’t mentioned dinner, and he’d gone without the last time she’d invited him. Tonight he’d obviously prepared for the worst.

“Why don’t you sit down?”

He glanced at all the furniture cluttering the room—the Victorian settee and matching chairs, the marble-topped side tables her mother had had flown in from Italy, the mahogany secretary and rococo mirrors—and, if Lauren was reading him correctly, felt a measure of contempt at the excess. But he sat on an antique Chippendale chair and continued to jingle his keys.

“Can I get you a drink?” she asked. “A glass of wine or something stronger?”

“No, thanks.”

He wouldn’t even look at her. He wasn’t going to eat
dinner. And Brandon wasn’t home. They certainly weren’t getting off to a very good start.

“Look, I know you’re angry with me about what happened at Tank’s apartment. And I’m sorry. I-I was just trying to solve the problem any way I could.”

“Don’t worry about it. You were just following in your father’s footsteps, right?”

Lauren knew that wasn’t a compliment. “Maybe. You took his money readily enough last time.”

He scowled, his anger showing now, but Lauren preferred this response to the tightly leashed disdain of before. “There wasn’t any point in
not
taking it,” he said. “No matter what I did, your father wasn’t going to let me be anything to Audra or our baby. He’d already decided I was nothing more than a bum, and without her support, I had nothing to work with.”

“My father wasn’t trying to hurt you or anyone else. He just wanted to ensure his daughter’s happiness.”

“From what I’m hearing, he did one hell of a job.”

“That’s not fair,” Lauren said. “We did what we could.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Lauren was on the verge of launching into a tirade about how difficult it had been to live with Audra and witness her steady decline, how helpless they’d all felt when they couldn’t save her. Harley had no right to condemn them, she thought. But then she remembered what he’d said when the shoe was on the other foot—
You and your family have made judging me a national pastime—
and knew, if they were ever going to get anywhere, attitudes had to change on both sides.

Taking the seat beside his, she placed a hand on his forearm, hoping he’d feel her sincerity through her touch. “I’m sorry I stood you up last time,” she said. “I’m sorry I tried to bribe you and, regardless of fault or blame, I’m sorry for what happened ten years ago. I love Brandon
with all my heart. I want what’s best for him. I also love my parents and I want to protect them. Isn’t there some way we can work this out peaceably?”

His gaze settled on her hand, then shifted to her face. “You didn’t have anything to do with what happened ten years ago,” he said.

“But I’m the one who’s in the line of fire now. Will you work with me instead of against me, Harley?”

H
ER EYES WERE
shockingly blue. Harley hadn’t wanted to notice—he didn’t want to find
anything
about Lauren Worthington attractive—but the beauty of her eyes was tough to ignore when she was staring up at him so beseechingly. She was sitting close enough that he could even catch her sweet, clean scent, and although he might not have paid much attention to her in high school, he was certainly aware of her now.

Don’t trust her. She’s just like her father, remember?

But she had a certain magnetism Quentin Worthington did not possess, and it had nothing to do with the canned sex-appeal so many men found appealing in a woman.

“I’m willing to let bygones be bygones,” he conceded, but he moved his arm so that she was no longer touching him. He was too anxious about seeing Brandon to maintain much of a defense against liking her right now, and he felt safer keeping his distance—a strange reaction, considering he’d never felt threatened by a woman before.

“I haven’t had a chance to warn Brandon that you’re coming,” she said in an apologetic tone. “He was supposed to be home forty-five minutes ago, and I’d planned to sit down with him and—”

The door flew open and Lauren’s words were lost as the boy Harley had watched at the school—
his
boy—came in yelling for Lauren. When he saw both of them in the living room, he froze, his backpack still slung over his shoulder, a wary expression clouding his face.

“What are
you
doing here?” he asked, as soon as he noticed Harley.

Harley’s stomach clenched with the worst kind of fear he’d ever known. Never had he felt more vulnerable than at this moment, when he was gazing at the child he’d dreamed about for so long. “I came to see you,” he admitted.

“How come?”

Harley stood, as did Lauren. She went to Brandon while he searched his son’s face, hoping for some sign that he might be accepted.
Please, God, after ten years….
He’d told himself not to expect too much. His son had never had any contact with him. Brandon could resent him, hate him or be ambivalent. The boy had lived with the Worthingtons all his life, so it was too much to hope he’d be open-minded, wasn’t it? And yet Harley couldn’t help hoping with everything inside him.

“Brandon, do you know who this is?” Lauren asked, sounding slightly confused.

Brandon didn’t give away Harley’s visit to the school, although Harley could tell from his reaction that he’d seen him. “No.”

Lauren took him by the shoulders so that he’d have to meet her eyes. “This is your father, sweetheart,” she said. “He’s visiting from California.”

“My
father?
” he echoed weakly. And suddenly Harley regretted that he hadn’t worn his suit. Maybe Brandon was disappointed. Maybe Brandon wanted a father who dressed and behaved like all the other kids’ dads…

But then his son looked at him and smiled, and Harley’s knees went weak in relief.

L
AUREN STOOD
in the driveway next to Harley as Brandon sat on his motorcycle and pretended to drive it. They’d had dinner together, taken a tour of Brandon’s bedroom and played Nintendo for over an hour. They’d fed the spectacular tropical fish that filled the giant tank in the game room, talked about Brandon’s school, his favorite movies and his friends. Everything had gone much more smoothly than Harley had dared to expect. Even Lauren had been pleasant. More than pleasant. She’d been supportive and responsive. Only now it was time for him to leave. Already. It was nearly ten o’clock and Brandon had school in the morning.

“This is so cool,” Brandon said, still admiring the bike. “Will you take me for a ride sometime?”

Harley looked at Lauren, knowing instinctively that she wouldn’t like this idea. For one, it required a great deal of trust, and she was still too wary to watch him take off with Brandon on the back of his bike. Harley was even a little worried about what he might do with such an opportunity. If he did what he
wanted
to do, he’d keep driving and take his son to California without a backward glance. “Maybe another time,” he said. “Motorcycles are dangerous, and I’m afraid we’d worry your aunt Lauren.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Lauren concurred.

“Aw, she worries too much,” Brandon complained, but he didn’t put much conviction in it. Harley got the impression he was distracted by something he deemed more
important. And he found out what it was a few seconds later.

“Are you gonna go back to California soon?” he asked. Judging by the way he had his head down and was playing with the gauges, Brandon had meant to sound casual. But something in his voice revealed his fear that Harley would leave before he was ready to let him go. With their history, Harley could certainly understand why he’d be worried.

“Not for a while,” he said, careful not to state anything too strongly for fear of spooking Lauren. He didn’t want to lose her cooperation now.

His son found the switch to turn the headlight, which came on automatically with the key, to bright.
Click, click. On, off.
“So I’ll see you again?”

“I hope so,” he said. “But that’s up to your aunt.”

Brandon turned his attention to Lauren, who was silhouetted in the moonlight and looking prettier than Harley had ever seen her. Or was his exaggerated appreciation just more of the euphoria he was feeling?

“Pleeeease, Aunt Lauren?” Brandon pleaded. “Can he come back? Can he come back tomorrow?”

Lauren smiled. “Okay, Bran.” She tousled his hair lovingly, then turned to gaze at Harley. “Tomorrow’s Friday. Why don’t you come over and go swimming with us after Brandon gets out of school? It’s certainly hot enough.”

“What time will that be?”

“Three o’clock.”

He nodded, feeling so warm and good inside that he hardly knew how to react.
He’d met his son.
Brandon liked him and wanted him to come back. And Lauren was going to allow it. “I’ll be here. Any chance you’ll let me take you both out to dinner afterward?”

“Aunt Lauren?” Brandon asked with the same hopeful expression.

She laughed. “How can I say no?”

“Great.” Harley reached out to help his son off the bike and nearly pulled him into his arms. But he knew it was too much too soon. He needed to wait until Brandon was more familiar with him, until they’d built a relationship.

“Good night, squirt,” he said, giving him an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder instead. Then he looked at Lauren and had the crazy impulse to hug her, too.

He was just high on happiness, he decided, and tossed her his most carefree grin. “Thanks.”

W
HEN
H
ARLEY RETURNED
to the apartment, Tank’s brother Damien was sitting on the couch with Tank, having a beer. Even though Damien was already living away from home, starting his law practice, when Tank and Harley were in high school, Harley recognized him from the family functions he’d attended with Tank ten years ago and the photographs that had hung around the Thompson household.

“Tank told me you were in town,” Damien said as soon as Harley had let himself in and shut the door.

Harley smiled. Smiling seemed to be all he could do since meeting Brandon. “Good to see you again, Damien. What’s up, man?”

“Just thought I’d stop by and say hello. Want a beer?”

Harley had stopped drinking years ago, in his darkest moment, when he knew that if he continued on the path he was treading, he’d end up a drunken failure. Barring the night Lauren had stood him up, the most he ever drank now was an occasional glass of wine, which he’d already had with dinner. “No, thanks.”

“Sit down. I’m anxious to hear what’s going on with you. Tank says you’re doing pretty well for yourself in California.”

“Well enough,” Harley said, but he didn’t want to talk about the dealership or how he’d gotten his start by buy
ing used cars and bikes out of the newspaper or at auctions, fixing them up and reselling them for a profit. His mind was still one hundred percent focused on Brandon.

“How’d it go with Lauren?” Tank asked, following him across the room with his eyes.

“Good,” he said, even though Lauren had been much better than good. She’d made a fabulous meal he’d eaten even though he wasn’t hungry and she’d been accommodating, sweet, even friendly. Harley had enjoyed her intelligent comments and her laughter when she couldn’t figure out how to play the Nintendo game and kept causing her little guy to jump off a cliff. Brandon and Harley had both beaten her again and again, but she’d sure been fun to play with. And the memory of her cool fingers when she’d touched him right before Brandon got home was—

Harley jerked himself out of his thoughts long enough to realize where they were leading and made a quick and decisive correction. It was nothing. Lauren’s touch was nothing.

“Well? You gonna tell us what happened?” Tank asked.

Taking the easy chair across from the couch, Harley put his feet up and linked his fingers across his abdomen. “I met Brandon,” he said simply.

Tank smiled, but Damien nearly choked on his beer. “You did?” he managed to say after a sputtering cough. “When?”

“Tonight. I had dinner with Lauren and Brandon.”

“I told you,” Tank said, grinning. “She invited him over this morning.”

“But what about her father?” Damien asked.

“He wasn’t there,” Harley said.

“I know he wasn’t there. He’s not even in the States. But he’s not going to stay away forever.”

“When’s he due back?” Harley asked.

Damien didn’t answer immediately. He stared at his beer as though deep in thought.

“When’s he comin’ back?” Tank repeated.

Finally Damien glanced up. “I don’t know. I tried to reach Lauren yesterday, but she hasn’t returned my call.” He paused. “I can’t believe she’d cross him.”

“How do you know she crossed him?” Tank asked. “He’s getting on in years. Maybe he doesn’t have the energy to hate Harley anymore. Maybe he’s ready to put the past behind him. Audra’s gone, after all.”

“Quentin Worthington isn’t the type to give up a grudge that easily,” Damien said. “Besides, he holds Harley responsible for Audra’s death.”

“Her
death?
” Harley cried.

“If not her death, then her ruin. She was never the same after you left,” Damien said. “At least, that’s the way Quentin tells the story. I used to date Lauren, so I heard a lot of it. The whole family blames you for starting Audra on drugs.”

“I had nothing to do with the drugs,” Harley said. “That was all Audra. I hated it when she got high. I didn’t like how it made her act.”

Damien shrugged. “You might know that, but Quentin believes otherwise. And I thought Lauren did, too.” He took a pull of his beer. “Even if she doesn’t blame you, I’m surprised she’d let you see Brandon and risk losing her father’s goodwill. She’s always thought Quentin could walk on water.”

Harley had known all along that he probably wouldn’t be seeing Brandon if Quentin was home. But he’d been so caught up in finally meeting his son that he hadn’t really considered the price Lauren might pay for letting him come over tonight. Somehow that cast her in a different light entirely.

“You don’t think he’ll cut her off or anything, do you?” he asked.

“Who can say? He’s got more pride than most men. But I wish he
would
cut her off. Then maybe she’d need someone.”

Tank chuckled. “Someone like you?”

Damien finished his beer and set the empty can on the coffee table. “Yeah. Someone like me.”

“S
O
? H
OW’D IT GO
?”
Kimberly asked.

Lauren stretched and shoved the pillows against the headboard so she could sit up. She’d gone to bed shortly after Harley left, but she hadn’t been able to sleep. She’d been too busy thinking about Brandon’s almost instant adoration of his father, the way Harley smiled every time he looked at his son and how it made her feel to see the two of them. Regardless of what Harley was or wasn’t, something about him fit Brandon perfectly. She could feel it when they were together and she enjoyed watching her nephew bask in his father’s attention, which was, she had to admit, a pretty nice thing to have.

“It was fantastic,” she admitted. “It was the first time I’ve ever found Harley easy to read. Whenever he looked at Brandon, it just melted my heart, you know?”

“Really? What about Brandon? How did he respond?”

Lauren laid one arm across her forehead and stared up at the ceiling. “He took one look at Harley and fell in love. It was that simple.”

“Did Harley treat
you
okay?”

“He was a little cool at first. But we decided to bury the hatchet for Brandon’s sake. After that he seemed to forget we were ever enemies. He teased me every time I lost a game of Nintendo, had seconds of everything at supper even though he’d already eaten, and was really the perfect date.”

“Date?”

“I mean guest,” she said quickly.

“Right.”

Lauren chose to ignore the disbelief in Kimberly’s voice. She was still too excited about the events of this evening. “He even deferred to me when Brandon wanted a ride on his motorcycle,” she went on. “He knew I wouldn’t like it.”

“Sounds like we’ve misjudged him.”

Lauren sighed wistfully. “Yeah, I think maybe we have.”

“Lauren?”

“Hmm?” She was picturing Harley lounging back on the leather couch in the game room, easily beating her at Nintendo, then nudging her and winking as he pointed out the huge difference in their scores. He had such a disarming grin—

“Lauren!”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me. It’s you I’m worried about. You’re not…you know,
interested
in Harley, are you?”

Lauren laughed incredulously. “Of course not. I’m just happy for Brandon that things went so well, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Stop it. Why are you being so skeptical?”

“Because you’re acting a little giddy.”

“What are you talking about? I never act giddy. I skipped the giddy stage altogether.”

“You’re acting giddy now. You’re absolutely gushing about Harley.”

“That’s not true! You asked me how things went, so I told you.”

No response.

“Kimberly!”

“Okay, but just keep this in mind: it’s in Harley’s best interests to win you over, and he has some pretty powerful tools at his disposal.”

“I know that. Don’t you think I know that?”

“I don’t think you realize how vulnerable you are.
You’re twenty-seven, single and you have no love life. And he’s one of the sexiest men I’ve ever met. He knows how to appeal to women. Don’t let him use you to get what he wants.”

“What is it you think he wants?”

“Brandon.”

Of course. What had she been thinking? He wouldn’t want anything more than that. Not from her. “I won’t let him or anyone else take Brandon away from me. Jeez, wasn’t it you who said ‘what a guy’ when Harley refused my bribe?”

“I can admire him, Lauren. I don’t have anything to lose. You, on the other hand, have to be careful.”

Lauren’s call-waiting beeped, and she glanced at the digital alarm clock by her bed. It was after eleven. Who would be calling this late?

Her parents.
Oh, no…not yet.

“I mean, he could really cause some problems if he wormed his way into your heart, you know?” Kimberly was saying. “Think what it would do to your father. And think where it would leave you if Harley was only interested in exacting a little revenge.”

“I’ve never fallen head over heels in love. I’m not sure I can. So don’t worry about it. But now that the afterglow of the evening has been completely destroyed, I have to go,” Lauren said. “I have a call coming through.”

“This late?”

“It’s probably my dad,” Lauren said with a growing sense of dread.

Kimberly told Lauren to call her in the morning, then hung up so Lauren could switch over, and Lauren hesitated for only a second before doing so. She had to tell her father what she’d done sometime. She’d known that before she’d ever let Harley come to the house. Now she had to stand by her opinion and her actions. And it was better to do it sooner rather than later, right?

Get it over with. You can do it. You’re a woman full-grown….

“Hello?” she said, her heart pounding.

“Lauren?”

Harley.
Lauren could tell by the immediate thrill the sound of his voice sent down her spine. Or was that merely the relief she felt that the caller wasn’t her father?

“Did I wake you?”

“No, I was just—”
praying it wasn’t my father
“—thinking.”

“About what?”

You.
“Tonight.”

“Tonight was great.”