Words From The Heart (Spring-Summer Romance Book 2) (5 page)

“You met Beth?”

Her mother nodded. “He was enamored of her, could hardly keep his hands to himself. She was expecting their son at the time, such a pretty woman. You’ve seen pictures?”

Audrey shook her head. No pictures. In fact, none anywhere. Odd.

“She was young, closer to your age,” her mom said.

He’d told her that, and she’d been surprised, though it explained why he’d gotten such a late start to his family.

“Nothing wrong with that, I suppose, except she was engaged at the time they met.”

Audrey started, her heart skipping a beat. “She was?”

Her mom nodded, “To the son of the CEO, Bob Massey. You can imagine the shake-up when she broke it off. She was six weeks pregnant with the boy.” Her mom jerked her chin toward the door.

Audrey’s knees wobbled, and she sank onto a stool. “I … didn’t know.” Would it have made any difference? Would she have been so eager to move in and take his children into her care given she had that knowledge?

“That’s why Dad hates him.” He and Bob Massey had always been close. In fact, she could remember dinners with his family more than once. Audrey gasped. “She was engaged to Peter?”

Her mom nodded.

Peter Massey she hadn’t known at all, except for a brief meeting at one of those same dinners. But she remembered a vague story about him breaking up with a girl because she’d cheated on him. With Bennett. Beth had left him for an older man; that had to have stung.

“Mr. Adams was encouraged to leave, which, I understand, he did without complaint, taking a lower rung job with their sister company, Cortex Accounting. He wasn’t there long when Beth found out she had cancer.” Her mom sighed. “I’m only telling you all that …”

So she’d watch herself. But watch herself for what? Guard against Bennett doing something like that again? Once ruthless and cutthroat, maybe even unrelenting, he’d never acted that way towards her. He barely had the will to do mundane jobs around the house, much less steal accounts … or women … from others. Her mom wouldn’t know that and would, necessarily, be concerned.

“It’s not an issue,” Audrey replied. “You said he loved his wife, and I agree. He does. I’m there to take care of his children while he figures out how to move on.”

Her mom said nothing, but wore unease on her brow. She strolled to the back door and looked out through the glass, her back to Audrey, June sleeping in her grasp. “He’s not Cale,” she said. “He didn’t run out on his wife or his children, and you’re sleeping within the same walls.”

Meaning, her own mindset came into play, and she’d seen that already. She’d panicked over August. She’d thought of Bennett in ways she shouldn’t, and if she was being truthful, he’d stared at her the same. A tingle in her gut spread downward. Audrey willed it away, but couldn’t quite remove the sensation entirely.

“I sleep connected to the baby’s room. Really, Mom, I’m chained to that rocking chair, and that has nothing to do with Cale, who need I remind you, hasn’t sent his last two child support checks.”

“You’ve made my point,” her mom replied, glancing behind, “but I won’t harp on it. I hardly expect you to walk away.” She faced the door again and laughed. “You should see your father and that precious boy. Two like souls, I’d say.”

Curious, Audrey rose and strolled up behind her mom. She smiled at the happy scene, her dad laughing, August balanced on his arm, Jeff sailing high on the swing. His eyes shone bright, joy on his face.

“Like souls, for sure,” she said. “I’m glad to see it.”

“We went swinging an’ had hamburgers …”

Bennett was hard pressed to keep up with the speed of Jeff’s words. He’d not heard him speak so much … ever really. Though, thinking of that, a memory surfaced – Jeff chattering to Beth, much of it incomprehensible, and her, with laughter aimed at him, interpreting the words.

He heard her voice as clear as if she’d been in the room and shook with it.

“Daddy?” Jeff paused. “You okay?”

Bennett worked up a weak smile. “Fine, son. I’m glad you had such a good time. Maybe you can go back sometime soon.”

Audrey leaned into his view. Taking Jeff by the shoulders, she steered him toward the stairs. “I think it’s time for you to take your bath, little man. Bedtime is in an hour.”

“Aww …”

Bennett watched the pair of them go and lay back on the couch, his feet propped on the opposite arm.

He’d gotten home to find the house empty, though Audrey called to ask if they could stay longer since Jeff was having such a good time. He’d consented, of course, but roamed around the empty structure, disoriented. He’d ended up in the garage, of all places, staring at neglected tools and projects started with enthusiasm before Beth became sick, only to be set aside. Permanently.

Where had that energy gone? The interest in doing something, thinking of something, that didn’t involve Beth or the kids?

Water gurgled through the pipes in the wall, and seconds later, he heard Audrey’s muffled voice.

Beth, Beth used to do that, help Jeff clean up. She’d come out afterward, soaked to the skin, her eyes alight, cheeks flushed with heat, and he’d count the minutes until their son was asleep and they could be alone.

That’d stopped the worse she grew. Soon, it was him and Jeff, with silence in the other room. Then him and Jeff and June with no Beth at all.

Audrey’s laughter trickled down the stairs, and drawn by it, Bennett rose. He paced himself going up, his heartbeat pounding in his chest, his palms damp, breath coming in puffs. Outside the door, he paused, laying one hand flat against the surface. He tapped it open and peeked inside.

Jeff slung water at Audrey, his eyes bright, hair flattened to his skull. Audrey, with a laugh, splashed him back. Her shirt was plastered to her skin, her bra line clear through the fabric. Her hair sprung this way and that in complete disarray. He traced a line of suds down her neck to where it melted into her collar, and the image morphed in his head to another one. Beth bent over the bathtub scrubbing the porcelain and him creeping up from behind.

Silent, lost in his daydream, Bennett leaned on the doorframe. He stared at Audrey, the hint of skin exposed where her shirt rode up in the midst of her back, a thin line of elastic from her panties stretched full in his view. He watched Audrey, her toes flexing in the fuzzy oval rug laid over the tile, her nails painted pink. But he pictured Beth, his need swelling, his pants suddenly too tight.

Audrey stretched, her spine giving a crack, and though he heard her grunt, knew Audrey had made the sound, in his head, it was Beth. Her eyes met his, her forehead furrowing.
Audrey, that was Audrey
, he said. Beth was gone. Audrey took care of his children. Yet, he couldn’t quite convince himself and look away.

CHAPTER 5

Bennett stood in the bathroom doorway for only a couple of minutes, then faded out of view, but his expression remained behind, the darkness of his pupils, the clench of his jaw, the curl of his fingers as if he longed to take hold. Her mouth dry, Audrey licked her lips and faced the boy again, what lightness she’d found in the motherly act, vanished.

“Let’s finish up,” she said. “I’ll read you a story.”

Tucking him into bed, the covers pulled chest high, she balanced the book he’d chosen on one knee. She smoothed the page and did her best to animate the story. Fifteen minutes later, she wished him goodnight, then checked on August and June before wending her way downstairs.

She met eyes with Bennett in the living room. “How was your meeting?” she asked.

He sighed. “Uncomfortable?”

Striding in, she took a seat across from him. “How so?”

He raised and lowered his shoulders. “I don’t fit in there anymore and am seriously considering quitting. I have some stock investments that’ll keep us afloat.”

“If things are too tight …”

For me to stay, she meant, but he vehemently shook his head.

“If you weren’t here …” He let his words fade.

Crossing one arm over her chest, Audrey turned her thoughts back toward Jeff. “Bennett, it isn’t my place to say, but I think Jeff would benefit from having a picture of his mother.”

Bennett’s brow wrinkled, and he bit his bottom lip.

“I understand, or think I do, why you hid them away, but
not
seeing her will eventually make Jeff wonder why. It’s hard for you. I get that. In some small part, by doing so, you’ve tried to deny her death. Jeff … and June … need to know her though.”

He sat there silent for the longest time, then expelling a breath, rose and crossed the room. Opening a cabinet door beneath the entertainment center, he took out a framed photo, holding it face down. He returned to his seat on the couch, his thumbs running around the metal scrollwork. “I don’t know if I can.”

Hearing the plea in his voice, she stood and walked to his side, perching on his left, her legs angled in his direction. She stuck out one hand, wiggling her fingers, and he switched his gaze from the back of the frame to her palm. Reluctant, as if the photo weighed a thousand pounds, he shifted it to her grasp.

“You can do this,” she said, “and however you feel afterward, the kids are safe, and nothing’s going to fall apart. I promise.” She adjusted her hold, pausing a while longer. “Here goes.”

Raising the top of the frame, she turned it face up and started at the woman framed there. “She was beautiful,” Audrey said. The kind of face men dreamed of, perfect complexion, luminous blue-green eyes. No wonder Peter Massey had gotten so upset. But the heart, she knew, didn’t always do what was planned, and for whatever reason, hers had chosen Bennett Adams instead.

Audrey tilted the photo toward him, and his eyes filled.

“She’s gone,” he said.

“She isn’t. She lives on in her children. You were very blessed to have her for however long you did.” Audrey extended him the picture. “Give it to your son. He needs to remember his mom.”

His hands shaking, Bennett took the frame from her, the tears suspended in his lashes, slipping down his face.

He hadn’t meant to fall apart in front of Audrey, but she was the first person to realize about the pictures. She was right. He’d hidden them trying to deny Beth was gone, but his children needed to know their mom.

He wiped his eyes and stood, the frame tight in his grip. He made his way upstairs, his feet heavy. At the top, he turned into Jeff’s bedroom. He set the photo on the dresser, angling it toward the bed and went to leave again, but his son called out.

“Daddy?”

Bennett revolved and walked over the bed, kneeling down at the side. Jeff rolled over on his side, his hands pillowed beneath his head, his eyes luminous in the darkness.

“I brought you a picture of Mom,” Bennett said. “I thought you’d want to have it.”

“I miss her,” his son said.

Bennett’s throat thickened, but he spoke in spite of it. “Me too. She loved you and June very much.” Taking hold of the bed cover, he tugged it higher on his son’s neck. “Go to sleep. Love you, son.”

He pushed to his feet, but before he could reach the door, Jeff called out.

“What about Audrey?”

Bennett came to a sudden stop. Audrey. Beth was barely gone, and he’d brought in a young, delectable woman to care for their kids. “Goodnight,” he called, shuffling forward.

Rather than return downstairs, he went to his bedroom, and there, took another photo of Beth from where he’d hidden it in a dresser drawer. He traced her face with his finger, exhaling a long breath, then, returning it to its place, he pushed the drawer shut.

After that night, Bennett seemed to finally accept things. The photo placed on Jeff’s dresser, the boy seemed to come more out of his shell. Other little things changed, June staying awake longer, August trying to stand. Bennett took more control of what he’d neglected. He cleaned out his office, boxing up files to return to the accounting firm.

He was also more forceful, giving a glimpse of the man he’d been. He argued with the lawn care company, spent considerable time on the phone snapping at someone at the bank. It was decidedly attractive, his commanding presence and, as the next month passed, his less formal manner around her, forming an appealing masculine image.

He loosened up, was less inclined to watch every step, and she also grew lax. It was natural that would happen. People living together would let down their guard. Bedroom doors weren’t shut so tight. Laundry mingled, a sock dropped here, a t-shirt there. Mishaps were made … and laughed at.

She was heartened to see it, though most incidents involved the children. Most.

She exited the nursery one evening and collided with Bennett just outside the door. The top two buttons of her blouse popped free. Grasping the fabric, she wadded the pieces together. “I … I shouldn’t be so careless.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” he replied, his mouth quirked, his voice low.

He reversed then and gave her room to get by, but she felt the heat of his skin the entire way to her room.

She was fast becoming addicted to Bennett Adams, for many reasons. He was twelve years older and that was a huge turn on. He was successful, prosperous. He was faithful to his children, more points in his favor. Even his love for Beth added positively into the mix. What woman wouldn’t want a man who could love someone like that? Now, have this question answered by a divorced, single mom who’d only known someone so directly opposite …

But their exchanged glances left her with many other questions, one larger than the rest. When she stared at him, was it because of the man he was or because he wasn’t Cale? And similarly, when he stared at her, was she Beth, or was she Audrey?

Audrey disconnected from the phone and lowered it to her lap, staring at the device as if something might leap out of it.

“Is something wrong?” Bennett asked.

Audrey looked up, a strand of hair falling between her eyes, and he was temporarily mute. She’d become more and more enticing as time passed, the tuck of her waist, the fullness of her breasts, the plump roundness of her bottom causing an involuntary curl of his fingers and sweat in his palms.

It was different from his feelings for Beth though. Those had been airy and light, whereas this was rich, savory, and intoxicating. This was heavy cream, spooned atop decadent warm chocolate. Beth, on the other hand, had been a sweet, fruited dessert. He’d fallen in love with her for that, for how golden she made life feel, but now salivated to slake the thirst that’d grown over Audrey.

Two years making love to his wife on rare occasions, years living through the worst inner pain, his masculinity bottled up, the pressure of it building. It was so soon after Beth’s passing. He shouldn’t think this way.

“My parents want to take the children,” she said.

He dropped his gaze. June sucked her thumb in the baby seat at his feet. August balanced himself, one hand on the couch cushion, the other gripping Bennett’s knee. He wobbled, plump knees folding, and Bennett shot one hand out, taking a firmer hold.

“Take them?”

She nodded. “All three. Mom said if June was fed they’d have several hours before she needed anything, that she and Dad are … lonely.” She spoke as if that were an unusual thing.

“Lonely?”

Audrey nodded. “Dad, he … he loves Jeff. You know, he’s been calling?”

She’d told him that, and he’d seen how happy it made his son.

“I said I’d let them know. I had to ask you, of course.”

Part of him wanted to agree. Jeff would love it, and it’d be good for Audrey to not have a baby on her hip. But remembrance of the old Bennett stopped him. Her dad had hated him, albeit for all the right reasons. He’d allow her father to watch over his children?

“They want to take them to the Fun Center. Dad and Jeff can jump in the ball pit.” She laughed, high-pitched. “My father in a ball pit?”

A small hand tugged at Bennett’s sleeve. “Please?” Jeff hopped up and down. “Please. I want to go.”

“Dad has his cell phone,” Audrey said. “I guess it’s only for a few hours. It’d be good for Jeff to have time with his …” She hushed.

Grandparents. He heard the word, though she hadn’t said it. A slip of the tongue, yet looking at this from Jeff’s point of view, an accurate description.

“Please, Daddy,” his son begged.

Bennett laid a hand on his head. “You like Mr. Ferguson?”

Jeff nodded, squirming from foot to foot.

Bennett looked at Audrey next. “If you say it’s okay …”

She smiled. “It’s okay. We can both use a break.”

She reached for her phone and dialed, chattering happily to her mom, but a new thought had struck him hard in the chest. A few hours with the two of them, alone. Did her dad give any thought to that? Did they trust him to spend time with their daughter?

Audrey hung up again. “They’ll pick them up in an hour, which gives me time to feed June.” She rose and strolled over to the infant seat, plucking his daughter out and tucking her to her chest. But she paused before straightening.