Catherine Mann - For the Sake of Their Son

Twisting the skirt of her dress in nervous fingers, she studied him with her golden-brown gaze for so long he thought he’d won.

Then resolve hardened her eyes again. “Expecting someone to change only sets us both up for disappointment.”

“Then you’ll get to say ‘I told you so.’ You told me often enough in the past.” He rested a hand on top of hers to still the nervous fidgeting, squeezing lightly. “The best that happens is I’m right and this works. We find a plan to be good parents to Eli even when we’re jet-setting around the world. Remember how much fun we used to have together? I miss you, Lucy Ann.”

He thumbed the inside of her wrist, measuring the speed of her pulse, the softness of her skin. He’d done everything he could to put her out of his mind, but with no luck. He’d been unfair to Gianna, leading her to think he was free. So many regrets. He was tired of them. “Lucy Ann...”

She yanked her hand free. “Stop it, Elliot. I’ve watched you seduce a lot of women over the years. Your games don’t work with me. So don’t even try the slick moves.”

“You wound me.” He clamped a hand over his heart in an attempt at melodrama to cover his disappointment.

She snorted. “Hardly. You don’t fool me with the pained look. It’s eleven months too late to be genuine.”

“You would be wrong about that.”

“No games.” She shot to her feet. “We both need time to regroup and think. We need to continue this conversation later.”

“Fair enough then.” He sat on the sofa, stretching both arms out along the back.

She stomped her foot. “What are you doing?”

He picked up the remote from the coffee table and leaned back again into the deepest, saggiest part. “Making myself comfortable.”

“For what?”

He thumbed on the television. “If I’m going to stick around until you’re ready to talk, I might as well scout the good stations. Any beer in the fridge? Although wait, it’s too early for that. How about coffee?”

“No.” She snatched the remote control from his hand. “And stop it. I don’t know what game you’re playing but you can quit and go. In case that wasn’t clear enough, leave and come back later. You can take my car.”

He took the remote right back and channel surfed without looking away from the flat screen. “Thanks for the generous offer of transportation, but you said we can’t take Eli on the road and I only just met my son. I’m not leaving him now. How about the coffee?”

“Like hell.”

“I don’t need cream. Black will do just fine.”

“Argh!” She slumped against the archway between the living room and kitchen. “Quit being ridiculous about the coffee. You know you’re not staying here.”

He set aside the remote, smiling as some morning talk show droned in the background. “So you’ll come with me after all. Good.”

“You’re crazy. You know that, right?”

“No newsflash there, sweetheart. A few too many concussions.” He stood. “Forget the suitcase.”

“Run that by me again?”

“Don’t bother with packing. I’ll buy everything you need, everything new. Let’s just grab a couple of diapers for the rug rat and go.”

Her acceptance was becoming more and more important by the second. He needed her with him. He had to figure out a way to tie their lives together again so his son would know a father, a mother and a normal life.

“Stop! Stop trying to control my life.” She stared at him sadly. “Elliot, I appreciate all you did for me in the past, but I don’t need rescuing anymore.”

“Last time I checked, I wasn’t offering a rescue. Just a partnership.”

If humor and pigheadedness didn’t work, time to go back to other tactics. No great hardship really, since the attraction crackled between them every bit as tangibly now as it had the night they’d impulsively landed in bed together after a successful win. He sauntered closer. “As I recall, last time we were together, we shared control quite...nicely. And now that I think of it, we really don’t need those clothes after all.”

* * *

The rough upholstery of the sofa rasped against the backs of Lucy Ann’s legs, her skin oversensitive, tingling to life after just a few words from Elliot. Damn it, she refused to be seduced by him again. The way her body betrayed her infuriated her down to her toes, which curled in her sandals.

Sure, he was beach-boy handsome, mesmerizingly sexy and blindingly charming. Women around the world could attest to his allure. However, in spite of her one unforgettable moment of weakness, she refused to be one of those fawning females throwing themselves at his feet.

No matter how deeply her body betrayed her every time he walked in the room.

She shot from the sofa, pacing restlessly since she couldn’t bring herself to leave her son alone, even though he slept. Damn Elliot and the draw of attraction that had plagued her since the day they’d gone skinny-dipping at fourteen and she realized they weren’t kids anymore.

Shutting off those thoughts, she pivoted on the coarse shag carpet to face him. “This is not the time or the place for sexual innuendo.”

“Honey―” his arms stretched along the back of the sofa “―it’s never a bad time for sensuality. For nuances. For seduction.”

The humor in his eyes took the edge of arrogance off his words. “If you’re aiming to persuade me to leave with you, you’re going about it completely the wrong way.”

“There’s no denying we slept together.”

“Clearly.” She nodded toward the Pack ’n Play where their son slept contentedly, unaware that his little world had just been turned upside down.

“There’s no denying that it was good between us. Very good.”

Elliot’s husky words snapped her attention back to his face. There wasn’t a hint of humor in sight. Awareness tingled to the roots of her hair.

Swallowing hard, she sank into an old cane rocker. “It was impulsive. We were both tipsy and sentimental and reckless.” The rush of that evening sang through her memory, the celebration of his win, reminiscing about his first dirt track race, a little wine, too much whimsy, then far too few clothes.... “I refuse to regret that night or call our...encounter...a mistake since I have Eli. But I do not intend to repeat the experience.”

“Now that’s just a damn shame. What a waste of good sexual chemistry.”

“Will you please stop?” Her hands fisted on the arms of the wooden rocker. “We got along just fine as friends for thirty years.”

“Are you saying we can be friends again?” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “No more hiding out and keeping big fat secrets from each other?”

His words carried too much truth for comfort. “You’re twisting my words around.”

“God’s honest truth, Lucy Ann.” He sighed. “I’m trying to call a truce so we can figure out how to plan our son’s future.”

“By telling me to ditch my clothes? You obviously missed class the day they taught the definition of truce.”

“Okay, you’re right. That wasn’t fair of me.” He thrust his hands through his hair. “I’m not thinking as clearly as I would like. Learning about Eli has been a shock to say the least.”

“I can understand that.” Her hands unfurled to grip the rocker. “And I am so very sorry for any pain this has caused you.”

“Given that I’ve lost the first two months of my son’s life, the least you can do is give me four weeks together. Since you’re working from home here, you’ll be able to work on the road, as well. But if going on the race circuit is a deal breaker, I’ll bow out this season.”

She jolted in surprise that he would risk all he’d worked so hard to achieve, a career he so deeply loved. “What about your sponsors? Your reputation?”