For the Sake of Their Son

“I haven’t always been there for you and we both know it,” Carla answered, her eyes shadowed with memories they both didn’t like to revisit.

“You did the best you could. I know that.” Since Lucy Ann’s mother had legal guardianship and child services wouldn’t believe any of the claims of neglect, much less allegations of abuse by stepfathers, there wasn’t anything Lucy Ann could do other than escape to Carla—or to Elliot.

Her mother and her last stepfather had died in a boating accident, so there was nothing to be gained from dwelling on the past. Her mom had no more power over her than Lucy Ann allowed her. “Truly, Carla, the past is best left there.”

“Glad to know you feel that way. I hope you learned that from me.” Carla tugged on Lucy Ann’s low ponytail. “If you can forgive me, why can’t you forgive Elliot?”

Good question. She slouched back with a sigh. “If I could answer that, then I guess my heart wouldn’t be breaking in two right now.”

Her aunt hauled her in for a one-armed hug while she cradled the baby in the other. “I would fix this for you if I could.”

“Come with us,” Lucy Ann blurted. “I’ve asked you before and I know all your reasons for saying no. You love your home and your life and weekly bingo. But will you change your mind this time?” She angled back, hoping. “Will you come with us? We’re family.”

“Ah, sweet niece.” Carla shook her head. “This is your life, your second chance, your adventure. Be careful. Be smart. And remember you’re a damn amazing woman. He would be a lucky man to win you back.”

Just the thought... No. “That’s not why I’m going with him.” She took Eli from her aunt. “My trip is only about planning a future for my son, for figuring out a way to blend Elliot’s life with my new life.”

“You used to be a major part of his world.”

“I was his glorified secretary.” A way for him to give her money while salving her conscience. At least she’d lived frugally and used the time to earn a degree so she could be self-sufficient. The stretch limo slowed along the last patch of gravel in front of the house.

“You were his best friend and confidant... And apparently something more at least once.”

“I’m not sure what point you are trying to make, but if you’re going to make it, do so fast.” She nodded to the opening limo door. “We’re out of time.”

“You two got along fabulously for decades and there’s an obvious attraction. Why can’t you have more?” Her aunt tipped her head, eyeing Elliot stepping from the vehicle. The car door slammed.

Sunshine sent dappled rays along his sandy-brown hair, over his honed body in casual jeans and a white polo that fit his muscled arms. She’d leaned on those broad shoulders for years without hesitation, but now all she could think about was the delicious feel of those arms around her. The flex of those muscles as he stretched over her.

Lucy Ann tore her eyes away and back to her aunt. “Have more?” That hadn’t ended well for either of them. “Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“He hasn’t come looking for me for nearly a year. He let me go.” Something that had hurt every day of the eleven months that passed. She waved toward him talking to his chauffeur. “He’s only here now because his friends threw him on my doorstep.”

“You’re holding back because of your pride?” Her aunt tut-tutted. “You’re throwing him and a possible future away because of pride?”

“Listen to me. He threw me away.” She’d been an afterthought or nuisance to people her whole life. She wouldn’t let her son live the same second-class existence. Panic began to set in. “Now that I think of it, I’m not sure why I even agreed to go with him—”

“Stop. Hold on.” Carla grabbed her niece by the shoulders and steadied her. “Forget I said anything at all. Of course you have every reason to be upset. Go with him and figure out how to manage your son’s future. And I’ll always be here if you decide to return.”

“If?” Lucy Ann rolled her eyes. “You mean when.”

Carla pointed to the limo and the broad-shouldered man walking toward them. “Do you really think Elliot’s going to want his son to grow up here?”

“Um, I mean, I hadn’t thought...”

True panic set in as Lucy Ann realized she no longer had exclusive say over her baby’s life. Of course Elliot would have different plans for his child. He’d spent his entire life planning how to get out of here, devising ways to build a fortune, and he’d succeeded.

Eli was a part of that now. And no matter how much she wanted to deny it, her life could never be simple again.

* * *

Elliot sprawled in the backseat of the limo while Lucy Ann adjusted the straps on Eli’s infant seat, checking each buckle to ensure it fit with obvious seasoned practice. Her loose ponytail swung forward, the dome light bringing out the hints of honey in her light brown hair.

He dug his fingers into the butter-soft leather to keep from stroking the length of her hair, to see if it was as silky as he remembered. He needed to bide his time. He had her and the baby with him. That was a huge victory, especially after their stubborn year apart.

And now?

He had to figure out a way to make her stay. To go back to the way things were...except he knew things couldn’t be exactly the same. Not after they’d slept together. Although he would have to tread warily there. He couldn’t see her cheering over a “friends with benefits” arrangement. He’d have to take it a step at a time to gauge her mood. She needed to be reminded of all the history they shared, all the ways they got along so well.

She tucked a homemade quilt over Eli’s tiny legs before shifting to sit beside him. Elliot knocked on the driver’s window and the vehicle started forward on their journey to the airport.

“Lucy Ann, you didn’t have to stay up late packing that suitcase.” He looked at the discarded cashmere baby blanket she left folded to the side. “I told you I would take care of buying everything he needs.”

His son would never ride a secondhand bike he’d unearthed at the junkyard. A sense of possessiveness stirred inside him. He’d ordered the best of the best for his child—from the car seat to a travel bed. Clothes. Toys. A stroller. He’d consulted his friends’ wives for advice—easy enough since his buddies and their wives were all propagating like rabbits these days.

Apparently, so was he.

Lucy Ann rested a hand on the faded quilt with tiny blue sailboats. “Eli doesn’t know if something is expensive or a bargain. He only knows if something feels or smells familiar. He’s got enough change in his life right now.”

“Is that a dig at me?” He studied her, trying to get a read on her mood. She seemed more reserved than yesterday, worried even.

“Not a dig at all. It’s a fact.” She eyed him with confusion.

“He has you as a constant.”

“Damn straight he does,” she said with a mama-bear ferocity that lit a fire inside him. Her strength, the light in her eyes, stirred him.

Then it hit him. She was in protective mode because she saw him as a threat. She actually thought he might try to take her child away from her. Nothing could be further from the truth. He wanted to parent the child with her.

He angled his head to capture her gaze fully. “I’m not trying to take him away from you. I just want to be a part of his life.”

“Of course. That was always my intention,” she said, her eyes still guarded, wary. “I know trust is difficult right now, but I hope you will believe me that I want you to have regular visitation.”

Ah, already she was trying to set boundaries rather than thinking about possibilities. But he knew better than to fight with her. Finesse always worked better than head-on confrontation. He pointed to the elementary school they’d attended together, the same redbrick building but with a new playground. “We share a lot of history and now we share a son. Even a year apart isn’t going to erase everything else.”

“I understand that.”

“Do you?” He moved closer to her.

Her body went rigid as she held herself still, keeping a couple of inches of space between them. “Remember when we were children, in kindergarten?”

Following her train of thought was tougher than maneuvering through race traffic, but at least she was talking to him. “Which particular day in kindergarten?”

She looked down at her hands twisted in her lap, her nails short and painted with a pretty orange. “You were lying belly flat on a skateboard racing down a hill.”

That day eased to the front of his mind. “I fell off, flat on my ass.” He winced. “Broke my arm.”