Words From The Heart (Spring-Summer Romance Book 2) (3 page)

Unsure where Bennett went, she made a left into what was a formal dining room, the table and chairs, though fine, obviously seldom used, a film of dust coating the surface. On the other side, a short hallway gave a glimpse of a moderate-sized kitchen, also empty. Looking across the shiny granite countertop, she spotted Bennett and Jeff out on a concrete patio. Lugging the babies across, she placed June’s seat down long enough to slide the door open. Bennett rose, reaching for it, and she stepped outside. “What a lovely yard.”

Lush and green … and
huge
with a jungle gym at one end, the ground beneath it covered in some sort of padded-foam surface. On the other end, a firepit sat center of a series of red-painted Adirondack chairs. The surrounding flowerbeds had been obviously preplanned and well-cared for.

“I have a gardener,” Bennett said, as if reading her thoughts. “Not that I can’t run the mower, but it became too hard to do and look after the kids.” His gaze moved to his daughter.

Audrey smiled. “Would you like to hold her? She’s peaceful.”

Taking a seat on a chaise lounge, she set August behind her, one fist in his mouth, and bent over, retrieving the baby from her seat. She shifted June’s weight, extending her forward, and, though he acted uncertain, Bennett took hold as if he’d done so many times. June, her lips pursed, wrapped her hand around his forefinger.

“I can’t believe it. She’s not been this …”

“Happy?”

He flicked a look upwards. “Yeah, and I tried everything anyone suggested.”

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that one day,” Audrey replied. “But every child is different. For whatever reason, she needs a mother’s touch.”

He didn’t speak again, but didn’t look away, and her face warmed at his attention. August burbled, and she broke the moment, lifting him into her lap. “I imagine within a few days, we’ll get the hang of this, with probably a few missteps along the way.”

Adjusting to each other, to a new schedule, to new roles, was going to happen. June would sleep more normally; most likely, her habits were way off. Bennett would hopefully find some peace over his wife’s death.

She meant the remark as a positive outlook. But his gaze changed to one miles deep, and she wondered, ducking her face toward August, who or what he saw.

June’s squall broke into his sleep, and without thought, Bennett leapt from bed and dashed down the hall. He rounded his daughter’s doorway, realizing, halted there, that Audrey had already entered the room. She didn’t appear to notice him, but tucked the baby to her chest and took a seat. Massaging her breast, she lifted it to his daughter’s lips, the rounded flesh distended, nipple pronounced and pink.

He stared, though he knew he should look away. He’d hired her to do this, and she’d proven herself capable. But the memories in his head mixed with the vision in front of him to settle low in his gut. This was the picture of how it was supposed to be, Beth in the rocker, June nursing. But the image of his wife, frail and wasted, vied with the healthy, beautiful woman across the room, and though his heart knew it wasn’t her, his mind was fooled into thinking it was.

How many times, after Jeff was born, had he waited for her to finish caring for him and return to their bed? How many times had he told her how magical it was and made love to her, eager to be a part of something he’d helped create?

He’d thought the fire of that doused, the need to experience her, long gone. Only it wasn’t and, though he knew that wasn’t Beth, though he recognized Audrey, her auburn curls, enwrapping her throat, the child she held was his and the desire to feel that freedom again pulsed stronger than it ever had. Time alone caused that, forced celibacy, denying the expression of love he and Beth used to share.

The bottom of her tank top lifted over her breast revealed smooth, young skin, flush with womanhood. Uncomfortable, Bennett reversed. He padded back to his room and shut the door tight.

That wasn’t Beth and the thoughts he was having only distant memories. Lying flat, however, his body throbbing, he couldn’t quite convince himself of it.

CHAPTER 3

Audrey’s chatter floated upstairs on a ray of morning sunshine, and Bennett blinked, one hand curled in the bed covers, the other rising to rub between his eyes. Other smaller noises gradually bled in, Jeff talking, the squeals of her son, August, along with scents, the strongest of which dragged him out of bed. Coffee.

Unthinking, he stumbled to the door in his pajama pants, snatching a t-shirt from the floor on his way out. He stuffed his arms in the sleeves, stretching the fabric over his head and, barefoot, made his way down. Just outside the kitchen, he paused to take in the domestic scene. Jeff sat at the counter, spooning cereal in his mouth. August slapped his hands on a high chair tray, spilling tiny oat rings from a plastic bowl into the floor. His cheeks were smeared, sticky, with some form of mashed food.

But what captured him the most was June. Silent and happy, her eyes wide, she reclined in an infant chair, one hand curled in a fist. Not crying.

He contemplated that then shifted his gaze to Audrey.

She’d dressed in blue jeans, but left her blouse untucked. The hem rose and fell with the movement of her hands. Her hair remained in disarray, tiny auburn curls poking this way and that.

She stretched across the counter, plucking spilled cereal between her thumb and forefinger, and the buttons of her shirt pulled taut across her chest. He stared, despite the discomfort it gave him.

In the next instant, she glanced his way. “Oh, you’re up. You want mushy cereal or pureed apples?” she asked, displaying the food cupped in her palm.

He smiled, muting a laugh in his throat, surprised to find it there.

“Daddy!”

Spotting him, Jeff went to scramble down, but Bennett leapt forward, one hand coming to rest on his son’s head. “Finish your cereal,” he said.

Jeff resettled, once more picking up his spoon.

“Coffee will do,” Bennett continued, “but I can get it.”

Leaving Jeff’s side, he circled the counter and opened an upper cabinet door to Audrey’s immediate left. In reaching inside, he brushed close and paused. She licked her lips, moisture glistening on the soft pillow of her skin.

Shaking himself, he grasped a mug and reversed. He turned his back to fill his cup, opting to swig the steaming liquid black. His tongue scalding, he winced.

“I was thinking,” Audrey said. “I need to spend some time, the next few days, getting settled, and, of course, I don’t know your usual way of doing things. Why don’t you take Jeff and August to the park this afternoon?”

Bennett started, lowering his mug to the counter with a thunk. “You want me to take your son to the park?”

She smiled. “I have only to look at Jeff and know you’re a good dad, and August is, like I’ve said, extremely good natured. Trust me when I say he won’t cry. Anyhow, it’ll give me time to unpack, and I’m sure June will be asleep. Besides, you look like you could use the fresh air, sans infant.” Raising her own cup of coffee, she sipped at it, gazing at him over the rim. “Tonight …” Her eyes switched to Jeff’s. “I promised the little man we’d watch a movie.”

“Monsters!” he shouted.

Bennett groaned.

“No, now …” Audrey scolded him. “Though Daddy’s watched that one a lot … and I did guess that … Jeff and I have a deal.”

Bennett’s lips curved upward.

“Tomorrow, it’s girl’s pick, though I promised he’d like it.”

The end of her remark was greeted by a soft gasp. Turning aside, she faced the window, one hand rising to massage her left breast, and a memory floated upward in his thoughts.

Beth. They were in the bedroom, her gown parted, new motherhood swelling her flesh. She’d hissed and pinched herself against the discomfort.
Feels like pins and needles,
she’d said.
Thousands of them, pricking me at once. Doctor said it’s normal.

Mmm, I can help you with that,
he’d teased.

She’d wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging him downward. But when she’d tried to kiss him, he’d swerved, pressing his mouth to her rich, full curves instead. The gasp that fled her lips in the memory was joined by the crash of ceramic on the tile, and Bennett awoke, his cup in pieces at his feet, coffee spilled everywhere.

Both August and June cried at once. Jeff, fearful, tightened his grip on his spoon.

“I … I’m sorry,” Bennett mumbled. He waved one hand at Jeff. “Stay seated. Daddy has to clean up his mess.” He bent, plucking shards from the floor, and tossed them into the nearby garbage can. He stood and reached for a dishrag, stooping once more to mop up the mess.

The damp cloth curled in his fingers, he faced Audrey.

She’d calmed her son, jingling a small terry-cloth toy, which the boy promptly inserted in his mouth, and now cradled June against her neck. “Why don’t you go sit down and relax,” Audrey said. “It’s probably been a while since you could check your emails in peace. I’ve got this.”

He hesitated, his brow tight.

“Honestly …” she urged. “It’ll be okay.”

He stared at her a moment longer, then dropped the rag into the sink. Shuffling out of the kitchen and to the right, he stepped inside his office, but came to a halt. He hadn’t spent one minute there in weeks, unable to escape either June or Jeff long enough to make the effort.

A rim of dust coated everything, bookshelves, printer, computer screen. Trailing his fingers along the desk’s surface, he left a trail on the way to his chair. The springs squawked as he sat, the cushion expelling a puff of air. Once in place, he made no effort to turn anything on. Because the man that’d occupied this space was gone, the hard-edged guy neck-deep in spreadsheets, replaced by someone who couldn’t escape his memories, who saw his dead wife at every turn and couldn’t cope with the silence anymore.

Dust motes danced in the light of the window, swirling in his breath, and he blew outward, watching them speed toward the ceiling and settle once more over papers and pens.

A shuffle at the door raised his gaze.

Audrey entered the room, a fresh cup of coffee in one hand, his daughter sleeping soundly on her shoulder in the other. She set the mug on a folder left out and turned the handle in his direction.

“Where’s …?” he began to ask.

She nodded back the way she’d come. “Jeff’s watching TV. I put August in the floor at his side. He won’t go anywhere, but chew on his toes for an hour. I should probably encourage him to be more mobile, but what’s the rush? Not like he’s going to stay that way.” She closed the distance between them, sinking into a chair opposite the desk. “You know … it’s okay that you’re out-of-sorts. You haven’t had time to be yourself, what with taking care of your children. I’m sure you’ve got so many memories badgering you … and that’s why I’m here, to give you space to deal with it. But …”

She paused, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. “But I’m also probably reminding you of her. I’m flattered if I do.” She leaned back. “Tell me about her.”

Overwhelmed, Bennett shut his eyes. Beth’s healthy, vibrant expression was hard to find anymore, replaced by the emaciated one he’d gazed at toward the end. “She was always positive,” he said, “always tried to be uplifting. So excited to be a mother.” Which made her death especially hard to take. It’d gone against everything that was “Beth”.

“How’d you meet?”

He opened his eyes again. “She was my secretary, back when I was at
Osmand & Mashe
.”

“The accounting firm?”

He nodded.

“Dad said you worked together …”

Bennett eyed her, and she gave a nervous laugh.

“Well, more he yelled it,” she continued. “I take it there’s bad blood? Makes no difference to me because I know how my dad is.”

He spoke truthful. “I stole his biggest client, deliberately and on purpose. He’s never forgiven me for it, and frankly, I don’t blame him.”

Audrey didn’t reply at first. “Like I said, it makes no difference to me. I suspect that man and this one are two different people.”

Bennett took his time responding. “Are you always this perceptive?”

She smiled. “Except when it came to my ex. Then again, I knew something was wrong, just not that he was the type of man who’d run out on his son.” She shrugged. “I can’t dwell there, but have to move on … and don’t you worry about my father either. This is my choice; he’ll have to live with it.”

Her head tilted, and she adjusted her hold on June.

“Maybe it isn’t my place to say, I know I haven’t been through what you have, and I still have some growing to do …”

Bennett wrinkled his brow, unsure what she meant.

“But it seems to me when your wife died, you got lost, and it’ll take time to regain your confidence again.
Not
to forget her, you will never forget. The pain though, that’ll get easier to handle.” She paused, uncertainty forming in her voice. “If … if you can believe someone who won’t turn thirty until September.”

“My wife was thirty-one,” he said.

That revelation seemed to shake her, and she clutched the baby tighter.

Asqueal from her son took her from the room. But her scent lingered, and he inhaled deep, his mind spinning back the years to that morning when Jeff was small, the one where he’d made love to Beth, simply because he could.

She hadn’t had time to prepare for this change in her life, hadn’t gone to the library planning to move in with a man she’d barely met, care for his children, and adapt her habits to fit his. Though she was qualified to be a mother … she could care for June, guide Jeff … she wasn’t qualified to “fix” Bennett Adams. He was a man teetering on the edge of collapse, mourning his wife, mentally exhausted from the care of his children, a man who saw ghosts at every turn.

What he’d seen in the kitchen was a mystery, except he’d not been in the room. His eyes blank, his mouth agape, his coffee mug slipped from his grasp to shatter at his feet. One step in his office had furthered her concern. It looked extremely neglected, like he’d walked out one day with no intention of going back.

Turning things over that afternoon, finally alone with June, Audrey decided her best bet was to act as normal as possible, to provide structure so he could let go of the worry that dogged him. That was part of it. He worried about his children without their mother; he worried about himself coping. She was sure he worried if her being there was good or not. But left much longer on his own, and he might’ve finally given into his pain and done something … drastic.

What would have happened to Jeff and June then?

This job was her taking care of the children, but it was also giving him back his sanity. No, she wasn’t qualified, but she was the person elected to do it, and she had no choice. As rash as moving in here was, moving out and leaving him to pick up the pieces was wrong.

The issue settled in her thinking, Audrey made a list of things she wanted to do, questions she had about his likes and dislikes, and tasks like buying food or doing the laundry. She was only one woman, but perhaps if she wrote them down and assigned herself certain days and times to accomplish each one, gradually she’d get ahead.

“Today, I’m going to unpack my clothing,” she stated aloud.

She was mostly done when Bennett returned. Hearing him call out, she dropped her underthings in a dresser drawer and headed for the stairs. Before she could get there, however, he was halfway up, August perched on one arm, looking much brighter than he had that morning. Jeff tagged along on his heels. Another concern, the boy’s constant attachment to his daddy.

Bennett’s gaze strayed toward June’s room, and Audrey glanced behind. “She’s asleep, though I expect her to catch up with what she’s missed and participate in life more.” She faced forward. “Did you have a good time?” She aimed the question at both him and the boy.

“It was good and August was, as you said, completely content. Although …” Bennett seemed to make a decision and, squeezing past her, turned into Jeff’s room and took a seat on the bed. He stood August facing him, taking hold of either hand, and her son, on wobbly legs, gave an excited squeak. “He isn’t as inept as he appears. He just makes no effort.”

One hand at her mouth, Audrey muffled her pride.