Is he the real deal, or just another regret waiting to happen? First on Hayley Christopher’s list to get her train-wreck life back on track: stay away from men. Especially the ones who cause a ripple effect of bad decisions. Still reeling from a high-profile divorce, the college dropout and former pro cheerleader is stumbling through yet another challenge—temporary custody of her nephew, Fletcher. No one knows better than Hayley that she’s not mother material. When she opens the door to her new landlord and old flame, she wonders just how many more past mistakes she is destined to pay for. After the death of his wife, Ray Braddock is still putting the pieces back together. Hayley—and the silent little boy at her side—both bristle with emotional barriers so high, it appears no one but him can see that together, three broken people just might make a whole family. As she watches Fletcher respond to Ray’s patient care, Hayley’s determination to hold on to her heart begins to soften. But just when she begins to think that Ray is one opportunity she shouldn’t let slip by, Fletcher’s gangconnected father threatens to make her pay for the one good choice she ever made… Warning: Touches on issues of death, child abandonment, neglectful parenting. Sensuous love scenes.
eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. Samhain Publishing, Ltd. 11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B Cincinnati OH 45249 A Forever Kind of Guy Copyright © 2011 by Barbara Meyers ISBN: 978-1-60928-678-1 Edited by Sue Ellen Gower Cover by Valerie Tibbs All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: October 2011 www.samhainpublishing.com
A Forever Kind of Guy Barbara Meyers
Dedication
For my friend Wendy. She never met a rule she wanted to follow and she always deviates from the plan. Thank you, God for every bit of writing talent you gave me. And to the mortals here on earth who’ve been there for me, a big thank you to all of you, especially to my own forever-kind-of-guy Bill for never wavering in his support of my writing efforts. Thank you to my readers and critiquers (in no particular order): Danielle Meyers, Garda Parker, Sharon DeVita, Wendy Pomella, Dawn Peplinski and Michele Dunaway. Finally I would like to thank my editor Sue-Ellen Gower and all the crew at Samhain Publishing.
Chapter One
Hayley Christopher swiped gloss across her lips and stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. Why do I bother? she silently asked her reflection. Her plan for the future dangled just out of reach like a rabbit in front of a greyhound. She wanted to race forward, shake the Florida sand off her feet and arrive in Los Angeles ready to start her life over, but something always held her back. Ten years ago it had been a man. Though she’d vowed never to sacrifice her dreams for a man again, she hadn’t counted on a little boy getting in the way of her second chance. Just a few short months ago she’d been ready to escape Jacksonville and the life she’d once had with Trey. Her bags were packed. An airline ticket awaited her. She’d planned to step off the plane in L.A. and never look back. Marriage to Trey derailed her plans the first time. Now she’d allowed her semi-orphaned, stepnephew Fletcher to block her path. But she hadn’t had a choice, had she? With his mother OD’ing on heroin, dying in her arms, begging her to take care of him, to protect him from his violent father, what was she supposed to say? “No, Steffie, sorry, I’ve got a new life in L.A. waiting for me”? Everyone else had turned their backs on Stef and for good reason. Hayley couldn’t. She’d made a promise to watch over Fletcher without realizing what it would mean. The other options were to leave Fletcher with strangers, or worse, at the mercy of his father Carlos, should he ever get out of jail. She shuddered at the
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thought that Carlos might make good on his threats against her. That he’d hurt his own son in the process. The poor kid had been traumatized enough in his young life. While she knew she wasn’t the ideal candidate to take custody, at least Fletcher knew who she was, though they’d hardly bonded in the few months she’d had him. They probably never would. As long as he was with her, Hayley knew Fletcher wouldn’t be mistreated and he’d be kept away from his father. With any luck at all, he’d be adopted by the kind of family Hayley herself had always dreamed of. A mother and father. Siblings. There’d be a big backyard with a swing set. Dinner on the table at six every night. Maybe even a dog. Sure it was a dream. It hadn’t come true for her, but maybe she could make it come true for her stepsister’s son. If Carlos ever came looking for Fletcher, he’d be long gone, absorbed into the system with a new name, a new family and tightly sealed records. Somehow she’d make that happen. And afterward she’d move forward with her own plans. She and Fletcher would both be free of their pasts. She stowed the lip gloss and mascara in her makeup case and stared at her reflection once more. What was the point in wearing makeup or making an attempt with her hair? Why did she bother putting cute workout clothes on? “L.A. Someday. Soon,” she promised herself as she did every morning. She sat down on the closed toilet lid to wrap the Ace bandage around her swollen ankle. Giving in to a burst of exuberance after teaching one of her aerobics classes yesterday had been a mistake. Her professional cheerleading days were several years behind her, and she was getting too old to do back flips. She should have known better. Life as she’d known it was over, she reminded herself. Some days there seemed no point to anything.
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The doorbell rang. She heard Fletcher move away from where she’d left him on the sofa watching cartoons. “Don’t open the door, Fletch,” she called. “I’ll be right there.” Quickly she finished wrapping her ankle, making sure the self-securing bandage would stay in place. Who could be ringing her doorbell? She knew virtually no one in tiny Perrish, Florida. Oh God, she hoped it wasn’t more bad news. Bad news had been following her for too long, showing up when she least expected it. Maybe the ringing of the doorbell heralded a change in that pattern. She grabbed the despised crutches and maneuvered her way out of the bathroom, wincing when she bumped her injured ankle with the tip of the crutch. She’d needed the crutches for less than a day but it was long enough to know she hated them. Four-year-old Fletcher stood to the left of the front door, his attention focused on whatever was on the other side of the slender pane of sidelight glass. Hayley moved closer to see a man hunkered on the other side making funny faces at Fletcher. She glanced down to see Fletcher’s reaction. His expression was the one he usually wore of serious concentration, but a ghost of a smile played around his lips. At least Hayley wanted to think he might be close to a smile. It’d been a long time since he had. There was no chain on the door, so Hayley debated for a moment about whether to open the door to a strange man. It was broad daylight and he looked harmless enough. He straightened when he heard the deadbolt slide back. They stared at each other for what was probably a split second but felt like a lifetime. Hayley felt the ripple run through her. She’d experienced the ripple effect twice in her life. Once with her ex-husband and the first time with— “Hi, I’m Ray Braddock,” he began.
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—Ray Braddock when she was fourteen. She’d been a brand new student, a freshman at Jannings High School. He and his twin brother Rick had been the hottest boys in the junior class. She’d worshiped Ray from afar, though she’d never actually met him. But every time she saw him, the ripple effect slammed her full force. Okay, she told herself. You can do this. You are not attracted to him. The last thing you need is a man in your life. Men are bad news. Men cause pain. Men mess up your plans. The ripple effect means nothing. The ripple effect is evil. “Hayley Christopher.” Good. That’s good. She remembered her manners. She remembered her name. Now if that excitement fluttering in the pit of her stomach would cease and desist, she’d be fine. “I know.” Her radar shot out a warning. “You know? What do you mean, you know? How would you know my name?” “From the property management company. I—” “Oh? I can’t believe they gave out my name. They have no right. Who I am and where I live is my business and no one else’s. There must be some kind of law—” “Whoa. Slow down there. I hired the property manager. I’m the owner of the property. I live in the other unit.” He nodded toward the other half of the duplex. “You—own—wait a minute. What?” The other half of the duplex had been vacant during the short time she’d lived there. Or so she thought. As if sensing her distress, Fletcher moved closer to her, wedging himself between her leg and her crutch and clutching her thigh. He sent out one of his trademark, almost inaudible whimpers of inquiry. Awkwardly, she patted his shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetie.”
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Ray rescued her from her confusion. “I was out of town for a while. So I hired the property manager. But I’m back. Starting next month, you can pay your rent directly to me.” “Oh. Okay.” “What happened to you? Do you need to sit down?” Ray gestured at the crutches and Fletcher hanging onto her. “Want me to come in for a minute?” Hayley couldn’t take her gaze off her landlord. He’d been good looking as a teenager and he still was. But his handsome face had more character now. Tiny lines radiated from the corners of his eyes. As she recalled, he’d been leaner than his brother, and that hadn’t changed. He looked tanned and strong and capable. But he also looked sad. And a bit lost. Maybe that’s what I look like too. It was certainly how she felt most days. Giving herself a mental shake, she tried to regroup and say something reasonably intelligent. Inviting him into her personal space was out of the question. “No. That’s okay. I’ll make the rent checks to you from now on. Was there anything else?” “Is everything all right with the place? Appliances? Plumbing? Air conditioning?” “Everything works. I’m not crazy about some of the decorating choices, but it’s nothing critical.” Except the bathroom wallpaper, she added silently. It’s hideous. She’d seriously considered doing the next tenant a favor by ripping down the wallpaper in the bathroom. Bare drywall would be an improvement over the garish flowered foil. “All right, then. Here’s my phone number.” He handed her a plain white business card on which he’d written his name and the number. “Let me know if you have any problems.” She took the card. Her fingertips touched his. She ignored her reaction.
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Not. “It’s only you and your son, here, right? Fletcher? Is that his name?” She glanced down at Fletcher, who was staring up at Ray. “Yes. Uh, well, sort of.” Ray’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t feel required to explain her relationship with Fletcher to him. “How do you know his name?” “The property manager.” “Oh, right. Okay.” Ray stood there a moment longer. Hayley wondered what else she should say. She couldn’t think of anything. Her mouth went dry. Her brain became addled. Every nerve ending she possessed went on high alert and sent mixed signals, scrambling her thought process. Invite him in. Make him go away. He’s hot. You’ll get burned. Step closer. Stay away from him. “Do I know you?” he asked. Hayley stared at him. He studied her intently. “You look kind of familiar. Like maybe we’ve met before.” Great, she thought. Even relocating this far from Jacksonville, she couldn’t get away from the negative publicity. “Do you follow sports?” “Well, yeah—” “The Jacksonville Jacks?” “Not so much lately—”
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“Then you probably know that according to every reporter in the greater Jacksonville area, I’m the ex-pro cheerleader, gold-digging, cheating hussy their beloved quarterback Trey Christopher divorced. You probably recognize me from some unflattering photos that ran in all those rags the past couple of years.” Ray’s gaze remain fixed on her as if he hadn’t been listening. “No, it’s not that.” He cocked his head a bit and narrowed his gaze. “What do you mean ‘it’s not that’? What else could it be?” “I haven’t read a Jacksonville newspaper in about two years. Are you sure we’ve never met? Maybe when we were younger?” He couldn’t possibly remember her, Hayley thought. Why not? Her subconscious asked. You remember him. “You mean like in high school?” “I think I’d remember you if you went to Jannings Point.” Hayley’s ankle began to throb, warning her she’d been in an upright position for too long. Plus she needed to leave for work shortly. “I did, but I was a couple of years behind you. I don’t think we ever met.” “Maybe not. But I still feel like I know you. Anyway, I’ll see you around, I guess.” Ray turned and exited the small screened porch and headed back to his side of the duplex. He stopped halfway and turned back to her. “Let me know if you need help with anything.” I most certainly will not. She knew from her experience with Trey exactly what happened when she relied on a man. Even if she wasn’t too good at it yet, she relied only on herself now, and her plans called for her to keep it that way.
Of course it would have to be raining, Hayley thought with a sigh as she parked in front of the duplex that evening. She had a trunk full of groceries, a
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throbbing ankle, Fletcher in the back seat and her beloved crutches to contend with. The rain was the icing on an absolutely splendid day. She turned off the wipers, yanked the key from the ignition and stared at the water droplets beading against the windshield. First Ray Braddock had shown up at her door this morning, which had caused her to think about him off and on all day. Since she couldn’t teach exercise classes with a sprained ankle, the director of the Y had relegated her to front desk duty, which she hated because it meant she was stuck there checking ID’s, handing out towels and answering the phone. After lunch he’d sent her to help out in the child care center, giving her a chance to see how Fletcher was doing. Fletcher had simply clammed up after her stepsister’s death a few months ago. Hayley couldn’t imagine what Steffie’s son had been exposed to in his young life that would cause him to refuse to speak. There didn’t seem to be anything physically wrong with him. Hayley had done what she could for Fletcher, rescuing him from the hovel of an apartment where Steffie had been living with Fletcher’s no-good father, who was now in jail. For the time being, she could watch over Fletcher until other arrangements could be made. It was the only thing she could do for poor Steffie. But nothing Hayley did brought Fletcher out of his self-imposed shell. She marveled at the strength of will he possessed to keep himself from speaking. He didn’t interact much with other kids even in the daycare setting. Mostly he played alone with building blocks or trucks or puzzles. Outside, he went his own way on the playground, observing everything, showing enthusiasm for nothing. Sometimes she felt the same way. As if she had an invisible bubble around herself. She could see out, observe other people interacting normally, developing relationships, falling in love, believing in the same romantic fantasy she’d once
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believed in. But she had no enthusiasm for, or personal interest in, any of it. Not anymore. Refusing to brood any longer, she got out of the car, retrieved her crutches and released Fletcher from his car seat. Too bad the imaginary bubble wasn’t waterproof. She popped the trunk and handed two of the lightest bags to Fletcher. “Take these to the porch, honey. I’ll be right there.” Resting her crutches against the bumper, she stood on one foot to rearrange the other bags in the trunk so she’d be able to pick them up and balance fairly equal weight on either side, and manage the crutches at the same time. “Need some help?” Hayley jumped back at the unexpected male voice and figure that appeared next to her. She made a too-late grab for the crutches, wobbled awkwardly on one foot and fell backward, landing on her butt in patchy, wet gravel. “Ouch!” A pair of male feet in beat-up flip-flops stepped directly into her line of vision, and her eyes traveled up a set of muscular legs. Baggy khaki shorts and a wrinkled black tee-shirt did nothing to disguise his tall, athletic build. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He bent down to help her up and her gaze flew to his face, his dark eyes, the straight, almost-black hair that fell across his forehead. This morning she’d noticed he was overdue for a shave, either by laziness or design, and that fact was even more pronounced now. Not to mention damn sexy. He touched her and she froze. That all-too-familiar tingling started, while butterflies began flapping their wings in her stomach.
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Stop it! Stop it! Stop it, she warned herself. She’d been burned by those same feelings once already. It wasn’t going to happen again. With hardly any help from her, Ray got her on her feet and slid her crutches under her arms. “I’ll get these,” he informed her, as he gathered up her damp grocery bags. “You go on ahead.” What a lovely sight she must make. Her butt was sopping wet and probably muddy. The rest of her was merely rain-damaged. She got the door unlocked and let Fletcher go in ahead of her. She was only too aware of Ray behind her, heat radiating off him through his damp clothes. “You can leave everything on the counter,” she told him, indicating the kitchen. The living area of the duplex was a large open space with the kitchen tucked in one corner, featuring a counter that overlooked the seating area and dining table. There was a laundry room on one side of the space and a short hallway on the other that led to a bedroom at either end and a bathroom in the middle. “There are clean towels in the laundry room if you want one. I’m going to go change.” She held out her hand to Fletcher. “Come here, Fletch. Let me dry you off.” In the bathroom, she sat on the closed lid of the toilet again and propped her crutches against the wall. Fletcher was damp from the rain but not soaked. She wrapped a towel around him anyway, drying his hair, face and arms. She held the edges of the towel around his head for a second before parting them. “Peek-a-boo.” Fletcher stared at her. She tried again, closing the towel and quickly opening it. “Peek-a-boo.” His brow knit in puzzlement. Hadn’t Steffie ever played games with him, had fun with him? Had he ever laughed, or had he simply forgotten how?
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“It’s okay, Fletch.” One of these days he’d smile. She’d make sure of it. She patted his damp shirt. “You want to put on a different shirt?” He shook his head. She knew the green tee-shirt he wore with a picture of a frog on it was his favorite. She gave him a quick hug. “You can go play. I’ll be out in a minute.” In her bedroom, she berated herself for getting flustered before. She yanked a pair of jeans and a denim shirt out of her closet and scolded herself as she stripped off her wet shorts and tee-shirt. “Since you aren’t trying to impress Ray Braddock, what do you care how you look?” She stared at her reflection in the mirror as she buttoned the shirt. Damn, she looked good. The rain made her complexion even more dewy and healthy-looking. She scrunched her damp hair and clipped it up off her neck. Stubborn tendrils drifted out of the clip to hug her neck and temples. Some days she cursed her reflection, and some days she thanked God for it. “I don’t care how hot he is, you are to stay away from him.” She shook her finger at her image in the mirror. “Don’t encourage him. Don’t flirt with him. Don’t get involved with him.” She yanked the jeans over her hips and zipped them. “He’s your landlord and your next-door neighbor. Behave yourself.” Satisfied she’d effectively covered herself from head to toe in denim and armed herself against any masculine charm that might present itself, she joined Fletcher and Ray in the kitchen. Hayley saw that Ray had unpacked her groceries and put the refrigerated and freezer items away. Everything else he’d left on the counter. The plastic grocery bags were bunched together in a little ball. He’d put himself on Fletcher’s level once again, and the boy nodded at something Ray had asked about the toy truck he had in his hand.
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Ray glanced her way and she wondered if her imagination was playing tricks on her, or did his gaze eat her up as she approached? Warning bells went off in her head when Ray straightened and his stomach growled long and loud. Irritated with her reaction to him, she crossed to turn on the oven. “Helping me with my groceries wasn’t a ploy to invite yourself to dinner, was it?” she asked over her shoulder. Ray’s stomach gurgled again and she turned around. He looked a tad bit guilty. “Not entirely, but I’m open to an invitation. What are you having?” Hayley extracted two pizzas from the freezer, much too aware of her culinary deficiencies. “I’m sure you’ll get a much better meal at your place.” Behind her, she heard Ray sigh. “I’ve been out of town for a while, and my cupboard is bare. But that’s not a very good excuse for barging into your dinner plans, is it? I’ll catch you later, okay?” He started for the door with Fletcher trailing after him. He ruffled Fletcher’s hair. “Bye, buddy. I’ll see you later.” “I didn’t say you had to leave,” Hayley called out. Too late. The door closed behind him. “Dammit!” She grabbed her crutches and hop-skipped to the porch. Ray had already crossed to his porch and had opened his door. “Hey.” He stopped and turned toward her. “I never said I wouldn’t feed you dinner.” Since he’d helped her bring in her groceries in the rain, she owed him even though the last thing she wanted to be was indebted to him. He stayed where he was. “Don’t make me come over there,” she threatened, only half joking. The rain had let up to a light sprinkle, but the overcast sky added an extra shade of gray to the evening light. They stared at each other. He’s not going to make me beg him to come back is he? Hayley wondered. The nerve. Why, when
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everything she’d learned in the past year had taught her to avoid men like Ray Braddock, did she sense herself giving in, making the next move, which technically should have been his? “I’m making frozen pizza. And I usually manage to burn it. Still interested?” “Burnt frozen pizza? That’s my favorite.” But still he stayed on his porch, his door half open. Hayley groaned. Why didn’t she let him go, back to his bare cupboards and growling stomach? Why? Why? Why? Why was he hanging back if he was supposedly starving? She’d come to the door, essentially told him he was welcome to eat with her and Fletcher. What else did he expect from her? This was as much effort as she was willing to make, and she was already mad at herself for it. Could he possibly be as skittish as she was? Maybe he was warning himself to stay away from her. Perhaps he, too, had a healthy fear of history repeating itself. Fletcher edged up next to her, poking his head out so he could see Ray. As if Fletcher’s appearance helped him decide, Ray closed the door and came back to her side of the duplex. “I guess, since you asked so nicely, I’d love to stay for dinner.” Biting her lip, refusing to smile, she muttered “Idiot” under her breath as he followed her and Fletcher inside. The thing was, she didn’t know who she was referring to when she said it.
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Chapter Two
Ray rose early the next morning. At least he’d slept, which he figured was an improvement over the nights of suddenly waking up, then trying to turn his mind off and get comfortable enough to sleep some more. Many times he simply gave up and got up, usually to sit in front of a television offering nothing better than infomercials or recycled news on the cable networks. If he were lucky, every once in a while a classic movie could distract him for a couple of hours. He dragged himself into the bathroom and stared at his bleary-eyed appearance. He felt much older than his thirty-two years, and he was pretty sure he looked it. Old. Tired. Sad. Disillusioned. He turned on the shower and rummaged for clean towels in the cabinet near the sink. Luckily, there were still a couple there. They smelled a little musty, but then, after being unoccupied for almost two years, the whole place smelled musty. He stepped under the warm spray and willed himself to think about nothing. Nothing at all. Fat chance. Hayley Christopher. Okay, there was no other word for it. She was hot. From the healthy layers of highlighted blonde hair to those perfectly made up blue-green eyes to the athletic curves accentuated yesterday by a snug pink hoodie and matching shorts. Her lips looked moist and exceptionably kissable. Except for her bandaged ankle, and well, the crutches, she looked healthy and outdoorsy.
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Beneath her attractive exterior, Ray saw the wariness in her eyes, the suspicion in her reaction to his knowledge about her yesterday morning. And something else didn’t quite add up when he’d asked about the boy. Was he her son or wasn’t he? Fletcher hadn’t said a word or made a sound. He hadn’t smiled at Ray’s funny faces that used to crack his niece Molly up when she’d been around the same age. If he’d never met her, even in high school, he wondered why he had this weird feeling that he already knew her. He’d have to dig out his yearbooks and look her up. After the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and forced himself to shave. He was going to behave like a normal human being instead of a wounded animal. He’d made that vow to himself when he’d decided it was time to return to Perrish, and he was going to stick with it even if all he did was go through the motions. Caroline was gone along with his unborn child. He couldn’t make amends, he couldn’t change the past. Months spent traveling the country taught him he couldn’t run away from his memories. He could, however, learn from his mistakes, rebuild his life while he rebuilt his business. That’s what he should concentrate on now. Most likely he would be if not for the distractions living next door. Even Hayley’s attempt to cover up last night had failed, Ray recalled as he lathered his face. The couple of buttons she’d left undone on the denim shirt merely tickled his imagination, and the fit of the jeans emphasized a firm ass and shapely legs. Not that Ray had a foot fetish, but she’d been barefoot, and he’d noticed her well-tended feet and toenails painted hot pink. Fletcher had been silent but attentive during Hayley’s pathetic attempt at a meal. The pizza had been only slightly singed, and she’d offered fresh carrot and celery sticks along with canned peaches, which apparently was Fletcher’s
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favorite. Hayley hadn’t acted exactly maternal toward the boy. She treated him with rather baffled affection, as if she were trying to do right by him, when she wasn’t sure exactly what that entailed. Ray finished shaving and found a relatively clean, albeit wrinkled pair of baggy cargo shorts and a shirt. His stomach growled, the pizza from last night a distant memory. Maybe thinking about food was a good sign. Acknowledgment of hunger seemed like a normal response. He’d decided to get in the truck and go get breakfast when someone knocked on his door. He yanked it open and stared for a moment at a near mirror image of himself. “Well, hello there, little brother.” His twin stood on the porch balancing two Styrofoam cups of coffee and a napkin-lined basket. The image of Little Red Riding Hood popped into Ray’s head, and he grinned. “Come to see if the big bad wolf still has his bite?” He stood back to let Rick enter. As soon as Rick set the coffee and the basket on the kitchen table, Ray embraced him in a bear hug. The two stood silently in the circle of each other’s arms for a few seconds before letting go and stepping back. Rick handed Ray one of the cups and lifted the lid on the other for himself. Ray took an appreciative sip, eyeing the basket. “What have you got there?” “Cranberry-orange muffins.” Rick folded the napkin back and the freshbaked aroma wafted out. Ray slid a chair out and sat before grabbing one. He took a huge bite and closed his eyes. He chewed, swallowed and said, “Wow. Where’d you get these?” He took another big bite. Rick sat as well, but made no move toward the muffins. “My wife. She loves to bake.”
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Ray paused, his mouth open, partially chewed muffin visible. “You—” He stopped, finished chewing and swallowed. “Damn, that’s right. You got married again. Sorry I missed it.” Rick grinned. “Yep. Couldn’t wait. Couldn’t get in touch with you.” Ray’s gaze flickered away before returning. “I hope you’re happy.” “I am. It’s pretty disgusting. Wait ’til you meet her.” “And how’s my favorite niece? How’s Molly?” “She’s good. She’s almost eight.” “Wow.” Ray took a sip of coffee. He’d missed a lot. His brother remarried. His niece two years older than when he’d left. Somehow he was going to have to pick up the threads of his life, tie them back together and get on with it. “How are you doing?” Rick asked. Ray didn’t flinch from the sincerity in Rick’s question. That was the thing about having a twin brother. He never had to question Rick’s loyalty or love. He never had to pretend around him, either. “I’m better than when I left. I think. That’s about all I can say.” “You going to open up the shop and go back to woodworking?” “That’s the plan.” “Good. You’ve been missed. Nobody around here builds cabinets and furniture the way you do. And I’ve been getting the brunt of the complaints.” Ray almost smiled. “Sorry about that.” “Word’ll get out soon enough that you’re back. Roscoe will see to that. They’ll be lined up at the door.” “We’ll see. How are things with you? You staying busy?” “It’s been nuts lately. People are hanging onto their cars longer in this economy. Which means more repair business for me.”
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They drank their coffee in silence for a minute before Ray asked Rick the question uppermost in his mind. “Have you ever heard of Hayley Christopher?” Rick tilted his head to one side and squinted as if considering. “Isn’t she the one who was married to Trey Christopher?” Ray nodded. “There was a bunch of stuff in the Jacksonville paper about them a year or so ago. They went through a nasty divorce after he got hurt and stopped playing for the Jacks. Why do you ask?” Ray pointed in the direction of the other half of the duplex. “She’s my tenant.” “No kidding?” “No kidding. Do you remember her from high school? She was maybe a couple of years behind us.” “Can’t say that I do. But her last name wasn’t Christopher then, either.” “No, I suppose not,” Ray agreed. “Well, hey, I’ve got to get going.” Rick stood, taking his coffee cup with him. Ray walked him to the door. “Thanks for the coffee. And tell your wife thanks for the muffins.” “You can tell her yourself. You’re invited to dinner tonight.” “Oh. Huh. I don’t know.” “Bull. You’ve got nothing better to do and you know it. And if you thought the muffins were good, wait ’til you taste her pot roast. I haven’t seen you in almost two years. There’s a lot to talk about. Be there at six or Kaylee’ll be over here finding out why not.” “Six it is. I’ll try to get my act together by then.”
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“And you might want to be careful of your tenant. According to the paper, she’s a gold-digging tramp.” Ray didn’t know why that remark pissed him off, why he felt protective of Hayley when he barely knew her. “Come on, Rick. You know better than to believe everything you read.” Ray watched Rick’s tow truck emblazoned with the garage’s logo back out of the driveway onto the street and roll away. Then he went back inside and ate two more muffins.
Hayley took a soft drag on her cigarette and blew the smoke out slowly through her mouth. She twirled the stem of her wineglass between her fingers, letting the warm evening air envelop her before she took another small sip. The cheap white zin trickled down her throat and she sighed in satisfaction. All day she waited for this precious time when she was alone, indulging in the small vices she still allowed herself. One glass of wine. One cigarette. The darkness broken only by the glow of a single candle and the bit of light coming from the window behind her. She even got a sort of twisted pleasure from the dichotomy of an aerobics instructor engaging in such unhealthy habits. A vehicle came down the street, braked and turned into the gravel drive of the duplex. Hayley frowned as it slowed and parked in front of the other unit. The driver’s side door of the SUV opened. Ray got out and reached across the seat to retrieve a foil-covered plate.
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Slightly mesmerized, Hayley took another drag on her cigarette. As if aware he wasn’t exactly alone, Ray turned and looked in her direction. She steeled herself against his possible intrusion into her quiet time. He locked the vehicle, which responded with a muffled beep and a flash of lights. He ambled toward her and peered in through the screen door. Defiantly, she took another sip of wine and another drag on her cigarette, blowing the smoke in his direction, trying to still the rapid beat of her heart. “Want some company? Or would you rather be alone?” Hayley shrugged with a nonchalance she was far from feeling. “You can come in if you want.” He did and sat in the lawn chair next to her, setting the plate on the small table. She picked up her glass. “I’d offer you some wine, but this is the last of it.” She took a sip, trying to exude serenity. Ray deftly took the cigarette from between her fingers and examined the long, thin cylinder. “Girl cigarettes. How can you smoke those?” He handed it back to her. She took another greedy puff. The lone cigarette never seemed to last as long as the glass of wine, though she tried each evening to make it so. Life was all about balance, she thought bitterly. Yeah, right. That explained why she sat alone in the dark every evening. Why Fletcher’s mother was gone and why he now lived with her. Why her whole life had imploded this past year, thrusting her into a whole different way of life. Balance. Like walking an unsteady, high-wire tightrope from which she could suddenly fall, or drop any one of the balls she attempted to juggle. But she wouldn’t drop them. She’d hang on and, one careful step at a time, she’d get to the other end of the tightrope, even if she couldn’t see exactly what awaited her there. A new kind of balance for her life; maybe that’s what she’d find.
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She glanced at Ray. Was he alone like her? Okay, technically, she wasn’t alone. She had Fletcher. But Fletcher’s silence isolated him while it added to her guilt. No. Don’t think about Fletcher right now. This was the one half hour a day she allowed herself not to be consumed by anxiety over his situation and her future. Think about something else. She slid another glance in Ray’s direction. He’d made himself comfortable by slouching a bit in the chair, long legs spread out before him, arms across his chest. He didn’t seem compelled to make conversation and not bothered by the lack of it. Could he possibly be single? He wore no wedding band, but so what? A guy like him? No way was he unattached. However, she reminded herself, the last thing she needed in her life was a single man. Any man. Especially one who affected her the way he did. Men were on her current list of no-nos. The very last thing she needed or wanted. Based on her experience with her ex-husband, she’d discovered men eventually caused nothing but heartbreak and trouble. She had a plan for her future, and she needed to stick to it. Because the other lesson she’d learned recently, and again much too late, was this—every time she deviated from her plan, her life went awry. “Hot date?” she ventured, her curiosity overcoming her reluctance to get involved. Ray gave a hard bark of what might have been laughter. “Dinner with my brother and his, um…” He paused, coughed, cleared his throat. “Family.” “You find” —she mimicked his cough and throat clearing— “family gatherings uncomfortable?” He shot her a look and she grinned. He shrugged. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to be around people.”
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“And yet, here you are.” Ray grinned. “Let me clarify. It’s hard to be around happy people.” Hayley was pretty sure she knew exactly what he meant. She didn’t know why that made her smile, but it did. It was good to know she hadn’t forgotten how. “That explains my appeal, doesn’t it? Misery loves company.” The look Ray gave her sent shivers through her. “I think it might be more than that.” No way was she going to ask him to clarify that comment. “Dinner was excellent, however,” he informed her after a moment. He tilted his head toward the covered plate. “Homemade brownies, if you want some.” Hayley glanced at the plate and her mouth started to water. “Homemade? I didn’t think anybody made homemade brownies. Unless you’re saying, homemade, but out of a box?” Ray chuckled. “I’m pretty sure these didn’t come out of a box. Kaylee’s a country girl, from what I gather. A great cook, loves to bake, knows how to sew. And in her spare time, she operates a hair salon.” “I hate her already,” Hayley chimed in. Ray reached over and patted her knee. “Oh, now, don’t feel bad. Nobody burns frozen pizza the way you do.” Hayley stared at his hand on her bare knee. His touch soared through every part of her. As if he, too, were aware of the effect touching her had, he drew his hand back. But she could feel him studying her in the dark. She looked away, realizing she’d forgotten to smoke any more of her cigarette. Regretfully she stubbed it out in the tiny ashtray.
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Ray’s nearness unsettled her. His touch undid her. This was something she didn’t need while she was trying to create a new life for herself and for Fletcher. She gulped down the rest of her wine and stood. Quiet time was over. Seconds after she closed the door, her cell phone rang. She crossed to the kitchen counter where she had it plugged into the charger and checked the caller ID before answering. “Paige!” she answered, joy at hearing from her best friend apparent in her voice. “What’s happening, baby?” “Excuse me, I must have the wrong number. I was trying to reach Hayley Christopher.” “Ha ha.” “What’s up with you? I haven’t heard you sound so upbeat in…well, never.” “Nothing’s up. I’m just glad to hear from you is all.” “I’m willing to bet it’s more than that,” Paige replied, “but since you’re doing wonders for my ego I’m going to let it go for now.” Good, Hayley thought. Because she’d hate to think her recent exposure to Ray Braddock’s company had anything to do with her buoyant mood. And she’d hate to have to try to explain her reaction to him to Paige. Also a former pro cheerleader, Paige Allen had been her best friend since they’d been on the same squad at North Carolina State. She and Paige had big plans to start a business together once they’d finished college. But Hayley met Trey and dropped out of school with only a year to go. She’d learned a hard lesson about what happened when she followed her heart instead of her head.
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She couldn’t help but think how different her life would be today if only she’d stuck to her original plan. Paige finished college and parlayed her cheerleader status into the kind of physical fitness empire she and Hayley had dreamt of building together. Hayley had appeared in one of the company’s early fitness videos and still received small royalty checks from it. Paige married a sports video producer she’d met when he’d needed shots of cheerleading performances for one of his productions. Six months ago, Hayley’d been all set to relocate to L.A. and take a job with Paige’s company. She and Lonny had offered her the use of their guest house for as long as she needed it. Hayley had dreams of finishing her degree, working alongside her best friend and creating a new life for herself. Then Steffie died and she’d postponed those plans. She had to rescue Fletcher and see him settled first. But this temporary bump in the road wouldn’t last forever. As soon as possible, she’d get Fletcher situated and get on with her life. She planned to put as much physical distance as she could from her past with Trey. “So what’s going on? Anything new with Fletcher?” Hayley sighed. “No. Not really. He still hasn’t said a word.” “What about the foster parent thing?” “I should be hearing from social services in the next week or so.” “And Carlos is still behind bars, right?” “Yes, as far as I know.” “Good. As long as he’s locked up, he can’t get to you. Or Fletcher.” “I like to think so.” But Hayley was far from certain of that fact. Carlos Mariano seemed to have a rather widespread network of contacts ready to obey his every command. “I don’t want to think about what might happen if he gets out any time soon.” “You think he’ll come after you?”
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“I know he will.” “Maybe you should bring Fletcher out here. Get as far away from there as possible.” “I can’t, Paige. Fletcher’s under the jurisdiction of the child protection authorities here. Taking him to California would be tantamount to kidnapping.” “But getting Fletcher situated could take a while.” “I’m afraid so. Look, Paige, don’t feel like you have to hold a job for me. I promised to be there—” “Girl, you stop talking that way right now. As long as I own the company, there’ll be a place for you. You watch out for yourself and do what you have to do for that little boy, and we’ll figure it out when that’s done.” Hayley’s eyes welled up. She wondered what she’d ever done to be blessed with a friend like Paige. “Okay, thanks.”
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Chapter Three
Ray rolled his grocery cart around the corner to the frozen food aisle and came to an abrupt halt. There, about halfway down, was Hayley, studying a frozen food package. Fletcher perched in the kiddie seat of her cart, a beat-up stuffed animal clutched to his chest with one hand and a small race car in the other. Fletcher saw him first. He didn’t smile or wave. His expression changed only subtly. His features softened slightly while his gaze warmed and welcomed. Hayley turned away. She opened the freezer compartment, replaced the package she’d been looking at and picked up a different one. She wore a blue skirt and a blue-and-white-striped top with low-heeled strappy sandals. The crutches were nowhere in sight even though her ankle was still wrapped. She looked tanned and toned and sexy as hell. Ray pushed his cart slowly toward them, half of him wishing she didn’t turn him on and the other half looking forward to being in close proximity to her. He hadn’t seen her in days, except in passing or from his window sometimes when she left or came home. He’d been busy, getting his shop, his house, and he hoped, his life back in order. He gently bumped his cart into hers. “Hey, buddy,” he said to Fletcher, making eye contact with the boy. Fletcher stared back at him. He flexed his grip on the stuffed animal a couple of times, almost like an acknowledgment of Ray’s greeting. Hayley looked up. Their gazes crossed. And just like that, Ray felt as if he’d been hit with a one-two punch. His stomach clenched. His palms got
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sweaty. He’d felt exactly the same way at age thirteen when he was about to ask Megan Cole to the Valentine’s Day dance. When Hayley didn’t say anything either, Ray didn’t feel too badly about not acknowledging her presence right away. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. That must be telling her something. The moment seemed to drag on, both of them standing there staring, a silent Fletcher caught in the middle. “Excuse me.” An overweight, middle-aged woman elbowed her way past Hayley to get to the frozen French fries. She picked up three packages, added them to her already overflowing cart and waddled away. Ray coughed. He seemed to do that a lot around Hayley. Maybe he was allergic to her. Maybe it would help him bring a few words up. They all seemed to be stuck in the back of his throat. “Stocking up on pizza?” Clever, clever line, Ray congratulated himself. Hayley showed him the box she still held. “Pizza? That’s for amateurs. I’m branching out. I’ve moved on to chicken pot pie.” She set the box in her cart and straightened, waiting for him to hold up his end of the conversation. Was he always this awkward with women? Or was it only with her? It’d been such a long time since he’d tried, he couldn’t remember. Surely when he was younger he hadn’t had this much difficulty speaking to a member of the opposite sex. “I see you found your way to the grocery store,” she went on when he did not. “Congratulations.” She gazed at the items he’d tossed haphazardly into his cart. Hot dogs and buns, condiments, Oreos and milk, potato chips. “Looks like you’ve got all the basic food groups there.” She grinned at him and Ray’s tongue tied itself into another knot. The same thing had happened when Megan Cole smiled at him. Great, Ray thought. I’m almost thirty-three going on thirteen.
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He gave himself a mental slap upside the head and dislodged his tongue from the roof of his mouth. His gaze flickered to his cart, which indicated he also had the appetite of a thirteen-year-old. “Yeah, well. I’ve still got to get some ice cream and Gummi Bears.” Fletcher’s gaze shifted and he made a slight noise at the back of his throat. Ray could have sworn the kid’s ears perked up at the mention of Gummi Bears. “Hey, um, actually, my niece Molly is coming over tonight. She’s almost eight. We’re going to have dinner, watch a movie. Hang out, you know. I haven’t seen her in a while. You guys want to join us? She’s a cool kid. She’ll like Fletcher.” Again Ray had the sense that Fletcher was straining toward him, though it didn’t appear as though he’d moved a muscle. “I don’t know,” Hayley replied. “I kind of had my heart set on an overbaked chicken pot pie. I’m not sure a hot dog’s going to satisfy me.” Ray stared at her hard, wondering if that was some kind of sexual play on words. Was she flirting with him? No. It was the same kind of dumb banter they’d started that night with the pizza. The kind of conversation they could both manage and be comfortable with. Nothing deep. Nothing meaningful. Ray shied away from the very possibility. “How about a steak?” “Steak?” she echoed. “Baked potato. Salad. Bread.” She licked her lips. “Dessert?” “You can have your choice. Oreos or Gummi Bears.” “Yum.” “So is it a date?” Hayley tensed. Her smile disappeared. “No. It’s neighbors eating food together with a couple of kids.” Her gaze challenged him. “Right?”
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Wow. And he thought he had his defense mechanisms in place. Hayley threw hers out there for the world to see and made no bones about it. Heck, it was kind of refreshing, Ray supposed. He’d never have to wonder where he stood with her. She sent him a message loud and clear—he didn’t have a chance with her. And that was good, he reminded himself. Because he was in no condition to get involved in a relationship with a woman. Especially not someone like Hayley. “Right. Neighbors. Kids. Food. Around six work for you?” “Six is fine. What can I bring? Liquid refreshment? Salad?” Ray relaxed. They were back at the starting gate no worse for wear. “Both?” “No problem. I’m good with lettuce and liquids. We’ll be there. Tell Ray goodbye, Fletch.” Hayley wheeled her cart past him and he watched her go, anticipating the evening ahead, which looked like a date and felt like a date. But was definitely not a date.
Hayley changed clothes three times before she stopped herself from trying on yet another outfit. She stood before the mirror and gave herself the sternest look she could muster. You are not going to date Ray Braddock. You’re not going to date anyone. You’ve got too much on your plate as it is. She began ticking a list off on her fingers, as if she were giving a highschooler guidance counseling. “First of all, you’re not exactly stable. Financially. Psychologically. Emotionally.
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“Then there’s Fletcher,” she told her reflection. “He needs you right now. You’ve got the Child Welfare Department breathing down your neck. You promised you’d do your best by him and that’s a promise you’ll keep. Even if your best isn’t good enough. “Third, what about all those plans you had with Paige? Move to L.A. and work at a real job. A career. Finish school. Get your degree. Forget Trey and create a whole new life. What happened to that?” Hayley stared at her reflection, her stern expression dissolving. She sat on the end of the bed feeling like an utter failure. Her marriage had crashed and burned. She had custody of Fletcher for the time being, but she knew she was hardly a fit mother for him. She’d managed to turn Fletcher’s father into her arch enemy. Even though he was currently behind bars, if she kept Fletcher permanently, Carlos had promised he would make her regret it. He’d make her pay for trying to help Steffie, for interfering in his life. Carlos wouldn’t care if his son—or anyone else, for that matter—got caught in the crossfire. She was a thirty-year-old college drop-out currently employed by the local YMCA, barely surviving on the pay she earned as a part-time aerobics instructor, weight-room attendant, and all-around gopher. For months the only thing that had kept her going was the knowledge that one day soon she’d be on a plane to start a new life far from Jacksonville and Trey and heartbreak. Social services would find a suitable family for Fletcher, and he’d have a permanent home and a stable life with people who loved him. In L.A., she had Paige and Lonny, and she’d make new friends and have a new job. Maybe, someday, once she left the past behind, she might even be happy again. Which was why she couldn’t let Ray get to her. Even if everything inside her strained toward him, she had to keep herself in check. She couldn’t
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encourage him. She could maybe, and this was a big maybe, be a friendly neighbor. But anything beyond that was simply out of the question. She sighed and stood, certain the talking to she’d given herself had reinforced the chunk of rock encasing her heart. “I’ll be fine,” she reassured her reflection. She turned to the door to find Fletcher watching her. She wondered how long he’d been there. One thing she knew—there was nothing wrong with his hearing. “Hey, Fletch.” She came toward him and held him close to her without bending down. As a rule, Fletcher didn’t like constrictive affection. He would allow her to sit near him, to put an arm around him, or like now, to move close to him and pat his back or touch the top of his head. But he squirmed if he was hugged or held too tightly. Maybe, like her, he was afraid of letting anybody get too close. Maybe he was afraid to trust. “You ready to go?” He followed her to the kitchen, where she removed a six-pack of beer, a bottle of white zin and a bowl of salad from the refrigerator. She gave Fletcher the beer to carry, and off they went to have dinner with the next-door neighbor. The door swung open immediately after their knock. A young girl with dark hair and dark eyes stepped back to let them in. “You must be Molly. I’m Hayley. This is Fletcher.” “Hi.” Molly studied them for a moment before she closed the door. The sliding glass door at the back of the living area opened, and Ray stepped inside and came toward them. “Hi guys.” He smelled like smoke, and he looked divine in black cargo shorts and a black polo shirt. He was barefoot, Hayley noticed. He had long, lean feet and well-shaped toes. “Here, let me take
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those.” He relieved Fletcher of the six-pack and Hayley of the wine bottle. “Come on in.” “You want to play?” Molly said to Fletcher. Without waiting for an answer, she led Fletcher to the coffee table where a game of Candyland was already set up. “You can be red,” she told him. An animated movie played on the nearby television, the volume turned fairly low. Hayley watched the two children for a moment, seeing how Molly was instructing Fletcher to draw a card, explaining how to move his piece along the board. Fletcher watched Molly carefully. He listened and absorbed, but as usual, did not speak. Ray touched her arm and heat radiated through her. He set a full wineglass in front of her and opened a beer, leaned back against the counter and took a sip. His gaze moved from Hayley to the kids and back again. “They’ll be fine. I told Molly about Fletcher.” Hayley took a tentative sip of her wine. “What did you tell her?” “That I’ve never heard him speak, but other than that, he seems like a pretty normal kid.” “Does he?” Hayley glanced Fletcher’s way again. He seemed to be getting the hang of the game. He drew cards and moved his game piece by himself now. “She asked why he doesn’t talk, and I told her I didn’t know.” Hayley looked at Ray. He’d crossed his arms over his chest, his beer held in one hand. He looked relaxed and not all that curious about Fletcher. “He’s, um, he’s not my child,” Hayley told him in a low voice. She took another sip of wine. Her nerves were humming, which might be due to Ray’s close proximity and her reaction to him in spite of all her best efforts to ignore the effect he had on her. She felt reckless, like if she didn’t stop herself in time,
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she’d tell him every detail of her life, lay all the ugliness out there before him and see what he thought of her then. “Yeah. I sort of got that impression.” Hayley looked to see if there was meanness behind his comment, but she didn’t find any. Ray was merely stating a fact. Still it stung a little. “I know. I’m not any better as a mother than I am at rescuing pizza from the oven before it burns.” She took a bigger sip of wine. She had a feeling she was going to need more than one glass to get through this evening. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything like that. Damn.” He ran a hand through his hair and turned to the counter behind him. He took a swig from his beer bottle and set it down to flip the steaks he had marinating on a plate. Hayley stared into her wineglass. “Sorry. I guess I’m a little sensitive about my maternal skills. It doesn’t come naturally to me. Not every woman’s cut out for it, you know?” “I guess not,” Ray muttered. Great, Hayley, she congratulated herself. You’re not in the door five minutes and you’re already off on the wrong foot. She stepped closer to him and touched his shoulder. “Hey,” she said softly. “Can we start over?” When he turned his head, his gaze met hers. “We seem to do that a lot, don’t we?” She dropped her hand, far too aware of the contact. She tried for a smile and thought she made it. “You know what they say. Practice makes perfect.” She picked up her wineglass and held it up to him. “How about a toast?” He picked up his bottle of beer. “To a friendly, neighborly evening.” “To a friendly, neighborly evening,” he agreed. The glass clinked. They both breathed a sigh of relief.
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While Ray tended to the grill, Hayley managed to get the potatoes into the microwave and push what she hoped were the appropriate buttons. Last time she’d attempted to microwave a potato, it had exploded. She poked her head out the sliding door to double-check with Ray about the time, and he gave his approval. “Good, then I can relax,” she told herself. She topped off her wine and thought about joining Ray outside. But that meant she’d be alone with him, and that, she had decided, wasn’t a good idea. Better to hang out with Fletcher and Molly until dinner was ready. Ray had already set his dining table, which looked like a work of art in oak. It was polished to a glossy sheen, and the chairs had beautiful carved backs. The rest of Ray’s furniture looked to be of good quality and barely used. A microfiber sectional sofa in a neutral shade of beige was arranged before the television set housed in an entertainment center that looked like it had been designed for the space. It was the same oak, Hayley realized, as she wandered the room, with the same carving on the cabinet doors. She ran her hand over it, impressed by the craftsmanship. The shelves held a collection of paperback fiction, CDs, DVDs and a few knicknacks. Behind a stack of CD cases she noticed a picture frame. Carefully, she edged it forward, moving the CDs aside. Well, that figures, she thought. The picture was a head shot of a slightly younger Ray, maybe five or six years ago, and a woman with pretty, delicate features and wispy, strawberry-blonde hair. She was posed behind him, her arms draped around his shoulders. His hands grasped her wrists. She had a chunky
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diamond ring on her left ring finger, and his sported a plain gold wedding band. The ex, no doubt. Hayley put the picture back where she’d found it, thinking at least she and Ray had something in common. In the photograph, the two of them looked happy and in love. Once upon a time, she and Trey had posed together for similar pictures. She took a gulp of wine, hoping it would banish her bitter thoughts. Other than the coffee table, where Molly and Fletcher were still engrossed in their game, the room held end tables, matching lamps and little else. Hayley wandered back to the kitchen. She looked out to see Ray standing near the smoking grill, gazing off into the distance, his empty beer bottle dangling from his fingers. Ignoring her earlier warnings to herself, she grabbed another beer from the refrigerator and opened the sliding door. Ray turned and watched her advance toward him. She held out the beer and he took it, setting the empty bottle on an old wooden picnic table which sat squarely in the middle of the concrete pad. “Need any help?” She nodded toward the grill. “Nah, I’d hate to have to call in the fire department.” He poked her playfully in the ribs, and she laughed. She sat down on the top of the picnic table and propped her feet on the bench seat. “You looked like you were deep in thought. I decided you needed more alcohol.” Ray shrugged and joined her at the table. “No point in thinking about things you can’t change, I guess.” He took a swig of beer. He held the bottle up to eye level. “Two’s about my limit. Otherwise I get—well, it’s a sad and depressing sight if I have more.”
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Hayley held up her wineglass. “Me too. I allow myself one glass in the evening. If I have two, I tend to babble about things I shouldn’t.” “Like what?” “The story of my life to date. I don’t come out looking too good as the star of my own show.” “Me neither, if it makes you feel any better.” “You’ve got an ex, huh? I saw the picture of the two of you on the shelf in there.” Hayley didn’t care if she was invading his privacy. She wanted to know what had happened between him and the woman in the picture. Ray coughed and stood, leaving his beer on the table. “She died.” “Oh!” She’d assumed if Ray was single he’d been divorced, not widowed. "I’m sorry,” Hayley told him, recovering her manners. “Me too.” He lifted the lid on the grill and poked at the hot dogs. Satisfied, he transferred them onto a plate he’d brought out earlier. “These steaks are going to need a few more minutes.” He closed the lid and handed her the plate. “Want to take these in and get the salad and stuff ready? I’ll be in in a minute.” She stood. “Sure.” She escaped back into the house. Great, Hayley. The first time he invites you over and what do you do? Ask about his dead wife. Brilliant. “How’s the game going over there?” she asked Molly and Fletcher. “Are you about ready to eat?” “Yes,” Molly replied. “Fletcher won. He’s good at Candyland.” Fletcher glanced at Hayley as if he wasn’t quite sure about the accuracy of that statement. “You guys want to go wash your hands?” “Okay. Come on, Fletcher. Uncle Ray has soap that smells like the ocean. I’ll show you.”
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Fletcher followed Molly to the bathroom. Hayley removed the salad from the refrigerator and set it on the table. Ray had used red placemats and plain white ceramic plates. White paper napkins. Hayley rescued the potatoes from the microwave. Apparently they’d survived the trip. Ray came in with the steaks on a plate. “Ready?” he asked. “As ready as I’m going to be.”
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Chapter Four
Hayley decided she’d be better off if she didn’t finish her wine, and she noticed Ray drank only about half of his second beer. They both switched to iced tea. Molly was a charming child, full of questions and observations, most of them directed at Ray, but she caught Hayley off-guard when she asked about Fletcher’s mother. Hayley darted a glance at Ray and couldn’t help notice Fletcher stiffen. “She, uh, well, honey, Fletcher’s mommy died.” Molly’s expression clouded. She fixed her gaze on Fletcher. “I’m sorry your mommy died. She’s probably in heaven by now.” She sent Ray a look. “That’s where Aunt Caroline is too, right?” Without waiting for a reply, she reached over and patted Fletcher’s hand. “Don’t worry, though. You can get a new mommy.” “Molly,” Ray cautioned. She turned her gaze on him. “He can. I got a new mommy and Fletcher can too.” She returned her attention to Fletcher. “You have to pray is all. I prayed for a mommy who lived with me, and I got Kaylee. She’s my mommy that lives with me and Daddy now. My other mommy lives in ’Lanta with Jim.” Ray looked Hayley’s way and rolled his eyes in a “Can you believe this kid?” kind of way. “God listens to kids’ prayers.” She directed this statement to the table at large. She shot another look at Ray. “If you prayed for a new wife, I bet God would get you one.”
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Ray took her comment in stride. “I don’t know, Molly. I’m not a kid anymore. Maybe God won’t listen to me.” He winked at Hayley. “I think he would. It just might take him longer because you’re old.” She took a bite of hot dog, chewed and swallowed. “Do you go to Sunday school?” she demanded of Fletcher. Fletcher looked at Hayley. “Uh, no, honey, he doesn’t. I think he’s a little young for Sunday school.” “He can come with me if he wants. Miss Cathy won’t care. As long as he bees quiet.” This brought a chuckle from Ray, and even Hayley had to smile. Molly helped clear the table before she invited Fletcher to watch the movie Ray had rented. Fletcher seemed happy to follow Molly’s lead. Ray set out a plate of Oreos and poured milk. They each had a small bowl of Gummi Bears as well. Molly retrieved pillows and a blanket and created a nest for the two of them on the sofa. “Want to go outside?” he asked after the kids were settled. “You can sneak a cigarette.” “Sure.” Ray had two cushioned chairs on either side of a small table on his front porch. It was almost dark when they took their seats. The air was warm and humid. A couple of squirrels chattered at each other from neighboring pine trees. Down the street, two boys shot hoops and traded friendly taunts. Hardly any cars went by. “I’ll stand guard if you want to light up,” Ray told her. Hayley shook her head. “I’m not addicted. Not yet, anyway. I’m a strict one-cigarette-a-night kind of girl. It’s a stupid habit. I don’t know why I do it.
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One glass of wine. One cigarette. After Fletcher goes to bed. Makes me feel like I’m getting away with something, I guess.” “Ah. Must be the rebel in you.” “I think it’s more like a treat. Something I deserve.” “You probably deserve a lot more than a cigarette and a glass of wine.” “Yeah, well, there’s nobody else around who thinks so.” Hayley immediately regretted the bitterness that crept into her voice, the way her comments bordered on sarcasm. “Sorry.” She softened her tone. “I didn’t used to be such a downer.” Ray shrugged but didn’t say anything. Hayley found she liked that about him. He didn’t feel compelled to correct her negative comments or make her feel better about herself. He let her own her outbursts. He didn’t pry into her secrets. “About Fletcher…” He glanced at her. “I’ll tell you about him. If you want to know.” “Sure.” “Fletcher is my stepsister’s son. She died a few months ago from a heroin overdose.” Hayley cleared her throat, second-guessing her decision to tell Ray about Steffie. “Are you sure you want to hear this?” “Lay it on me.” “My mother and her father were married to each other for a while when I was a teenager. I’d always wanted a little sister, so I was thrilled. Neither of our parents was particularly good with children. Maybe we bonded over that. Their marriage only lasted a couple of years, but I always thought of Stef as my little sister, and we kept in touch. We were both living in North Florida, so we saw each other every once in a while.
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“Then I went to college in North Carolina before I got married.” She turned to look directly at him. “That didn’t work out, as you know. “Steffie’s dad was gone a lot and she was on her own. She did what most kids do in that situation. She got into trouble. Drugs, boys, a few minor arrests followed by probation. “She wanted so badly to be loved.” Hayley cleared her throat again and went on. “When she got a little older, she wanted to straighten her life out. I tried to help her, but she never quite got it together. Somehow she hooked up with this drug dealer, Carlos. Next thing I knew she was pregnant.” Hayley glanced at Ray. He was listening, watching her. “Carlos never wanted her to have the baby, and Stef had no idea how to take care of Fletcher. “I didn’t see them a whole lot when Fletcher was younger, even though they lived in Jacksonville. I was too caught up in my own life. When I did see Stef, I could tell things were not good. She looked horrible. She’d lost weight. There was something off about her, but when I asked about her drug use, she wouldn’t admit to anything. She’d insist everything was fine, that she was happy. “I didn’t know she’d started doing heroin. I’m sure Carlos got her on it. Having her addicted made her easier to control.” Hayley clenched her fists, thinking about the man who’d threatened her and warned her to stay away from Steffie. Ray reached over and covered one of Hayley’s clenched fists with his hand. She relaxed her fist, and he slid his fingers around hers. She took a deep breath, wanting to finish the story and control her reaction to Ray’s touch. “A couple of months before she died, I planned an outing for her birthday. It seems so frivolous now, but I wanted, I don’t know, to do something for her I
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knew she’d never do for herself. She had to sneak out of the apartment with Fletcher so I could take her to my hairdresser. I kept Fletcher entertained while she got the works.” What Hayley left out was how difficult she’d found keeping company with a young child. He quickly grew bored with the coloring book and crayons she’d brought him, but managed to easily entertain himself with a handful of toy cars she purchased at the pharmacy near the salon. Nor did she mention Niko, the only member of Carlos’s entourage that she and Steffie trusted. “When we got back, Carlos was livid. He already hated me because I tried more than once to get Steffie to come and live with me, or go into rehab, anything but stay with him. He followed me to my car and told me if I ever came near her again, he’d make me regret it.” Even now Hayley could recall Carlos’s hot breath in her face, the evil lurking behind his dark eyes. While a couple of the guys he hung with watched, he’d twisted her arm up behind her back, nearly jerking it from the socket to make his point. He’d like nothing better than to make her pay for caring about what happened to Stef. How, she’d asked herself for the thousandth time, had Stef ever become involved with this guy? She knew he’d enjoy putting his threats into action, but after an instinctive grunt of pain, she refused to cry out or give in. Instead she stared him down until Niko appeared. Although Carlos didn’t know it, Niko was her conduit to Steffie. Niko was also the only one who seemed to have any influence over Carlos. “Rough up a rich bitch like this, and we’ll have cops crawling all over us,” he reminded Carlos. Carlos and Niko then exchanged a few words in Spanish that Hayley couldn’t follow. Seconds later, Carlos shoved her away in disgust. “I stayed away then, because I didn’t want to make things worse for Steffie. One day a couple of months later I found four missed calls from her on
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my cell phone. When I couldn’t reach her, I went over to their apartment.” She paused, squeezing Ray’s fingers. He squeezed back. She realized she hadn’t told anyone about that day. Not in this kind of detail, not in a way that forced her to relive it. “No one answered, but the door was unlocked. When I went in, I found Stef on the bathroom floor, a needle sticking out of her arm. She came to for about thirty seconds when I got to her. She looked at me with these big eyes, begging for something. I don’t know what. Help? Forgiveness? I didn’t know what to do. “All she said was ‘Fletcher. Take care. No Carlos.’ I called 9-1-1, but she died before the paramedics arrived.” Hayley brushed away the tears that overflowed her eyes. Stupid, stupid, useless tears. Tears wouldn’t bring Steffie back. Tears wouldn’t fix Fletcher. “Fletcher was locked in his room. He was crying, beating on the door trying to get out. He was dirty and hungry. I took him with me. He hasn’t spoken in the four months I’ve had him.” “Where’s Carlos?” Hayley looked up when she heard Ray’s harsh tone. “Still in jail as far as I know. He was arrested for assault shortly after Steffie died.” “Who’d he assault? You?” Hayley’s eyes widened. “N-no. Although he has threatened me, and he did come after me once. Like I said, he hates me.” Her friend Andre and Carlos had nearly come to blows after Steffie’s funeral when Carlos put his hands on her. Niko and a couple of others from Carlos’s posse pulled him away. No one else had heard the words he meant only for her ears. I’ll make you pay, bitch. I’ll make you pay. “To be honest, I don’t know
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who he assaulted or why. Carlos is an unpredictable hothead who doesn’t need a good reason for anything he does.” “Sounds like a hell of a guy. I’d like to meet him and beat the crap out of him.” Ray sounded so serious and matter-of-fact, it made Hayley smile. “You have custody of Fletcher?” “Temporarily.” “Why not adopt him? Will Carlos relinquish his parental rights?” Hayley sighed. “I don’t know if he will or not, but even if he does, I can’t adopt Fletcher. There’s too much bad blood between me and Carlos. This arrangement is only temporary. I applied to be a foster mother so I can keep Fletcher until the dust settles. I’ve discovered that the wheels of the Child Welfare Department turn very slowly.” She saw no point in giving Ray the details as to why keeping Fletcher would be the worst thing for both of them. If Carlos got out of jail, he’d come looking for her. He’d make good on his threat, she was sure of it. He’d make her pay for interfering not only in Steffie’s life, but his son’s as well. There was nothing Ray or anyone else could do to prevent that. Before Carlos tracked her down, she hoped to see Fletcher safely placed elsewhere, preferably with a loving, adoptive family. This was her problem. She’d made Carlos her enemy, and she’d have to deal with it. She couldn’t risk involving a friend like Andre. He’d take up her cause without a second thought, but if he got hurt or worse, she’d never forgive herself. And a guy like Ray? He was ready to go after Carlos right now. If he knew any more details, he’d want to fix things. Get the authorities involved or approach Carlos himself. Hayley shuddered at the thought. She didn’t need a knight in shining armor to rescue her. All she had to do was keep a low profile,
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protect Fletcher until a family was found for him and then get as far away from Perrish, Florida as she could. Carlos had been arrested twice since she’d known him, and somehow he always managed to obtain a get out of jail free card. Witnesses disappeared or ended up in the hospital. Evidence seemed to vanish into thin air. Carlos had friends in that tight-knit community of his. She could fight tooth and nail for custody of Fletcher before she let him go back to his father, but she’d probably end up either dead or close to it for the effort. And what good would that do Fletcher? She didn’t trust the justice system. She could only hope that this time Carlos would remain behind bars, and that he’d give Fletcher up without a fight. She stood, and since Ray still held her hand, he stood too. That put them face to face. “Thanks for telling me,” Ray said. He stepped closer, and Hayley quivered inside, thinking he would kiss her now. Half of her trembled in fear of what that might lead to, and the other half begged for it to happen. A little voice reminded her that if she wasn’t safe from Carlos, neither was anyone else who got close to her. Ray enfolded her in his arms and held her until she relaxed. She marveled at how good it felt. She hadn’t been hugged in a very long time. She was nearly breathless with anticipation and trepidation. “I’m not planning to stay here. In Perrish, I mean.” Best to get her intentions out in the open, discourage anything he might be thinking about the possibilities for the two of them. “I’m moving to L.A. as soon as I can.” “Are you?” “Uh huh. I have a job waiting for me there.” “It’s good to have a plan. I’m sure it will all work out,” he told her softly.
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With her head pressed against his shoulder, Hayley’s mind went blank. An “Mmm,” of agreement was all she could manage.
Again that night, instead of waking up constantly, tossing and turning, his sleep interrupted by weird dreams that filled him with a sense of dread for the coming day, Ray slept well and woke with what felt like a sense of purpose. Through his morning routine of making coffee, showering and shaving, he thought about Hayley and Fletcher. No doubt about it, he was seriously attracted to Hayley, whether he wanted to be or not. Whether he was ready to deal with that kind of attraction or not. There it was. She was nothing like his wife. Maybe that was why she appealed to him. But one thing she had in common with his wife—she was hiding some important stuff about herself. There was a lot going on beneath Hayley’s well-shaped exterior, a lot he didn’t know and probably a lot she didn’t want him to know. Too bad, honey, Ray thought as he wiped the last of the shaving cream from his face. I’m going to find out every last detail. He’d leave no stone unturned. He’d know Hayley inside and out, and she wouldn’t be able to hide anything from him. Not the way Caroline had. If Hayley was as attracted to him as he was to her, which was what he chose to believe, she fought it with everything she had. He poured a mug of coffee and rummaged in the cabinet for the box of cereal he knew he’d put there. Finding it, he filled a bowl and splashed milk over it. At the table, he pulled the newspaper toward him and scanned the sports section while he ate. But thoughts of Hayley and Fletcher nibbled at the corners of his mind. He finished the cereal and poured more coffee, and leaned against the counter to
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sip it. Her ex-husband had done a number on her. She didn’t want to get hurt again. Well then, Ray told himself, you’ll have to see that you don’t hurt her. Vaguely he wondered if she’d meant what she said about moving to L.A. And if so, what it would take to change her mind. She said she couldn’t adopt Fletcher. Couldn’t or wouldn’t? Or didn’t want to? He wondered which it was. And whether she’d change her mind about that as well. He knew he was getting ahead of himself, anticipating this potential future with a woman he’d only known for a couple of weeks, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t think he could describe to anyone what it had been like the past couple of years after Caroline died. Wandering from place to place, living like a zombie, almost. Dragging himself into each new day and spending every one of them wishing he could go back and change what he’d done. Things he’d said. Choices he’d made. He’d come to terms with the fact that he couldn’t change any of it. Death had finalized his actions. His only choice was to move forward, or at least laterally. Return to Perrish, restart his business, try to live his life in a way that would minimize future regret. He wasn’t getting any younger. Spending time with Molly made him realize how much he wanted a family of his own. And seeing Rick with his new wife, with a baby on the way, made him even more sharply aware of what he’d lost. He’d liked being married, having a partner, someone to share life with. He’d liked discovering bits and pieces of Caroline even after he thought he knew her so well. Of course, that was before he learned she’d abused his trust. He hadn’t thought he’d meet a woman he’d want to try marriage with again until he’d come across Hayley in the grocery store. Something about her,
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her and Fletcher, pulled him out of himself, made him interested. Made him care. He was ready to invest in something besides his own misery, and it felt pretty good. The truth he’d admitted to himself was that wallowing in self-pity was damn boring. He’d watched Fletcher yesterday. The kid was no dummy. But he kept everything locked inside. Or almost everything. His eyes and his body language often gave him away. He’d seen how Fletcher interacted with Molly. Even without words, he’d warmed to her. He held back verbally the same way Hayley held so much of herself inside. But for both of them, there was a lot going on below the surface. If he scratched, Ray wondered what he’d find. That reminded Ray of his plan to look up Hayley in his high school yearbooks. He wondered if he’d be able to find them. He went into the second bedroom and opened the closet. He and Caroline had used this room mostly for storage, although there was a futon against one wall in the unlikely event of an overnight guest. Eventually, Caroline had planned to turn it into a nursery. But she never got the chance. His wife had been an organizational neat freak, and so the boxes were all neatly stacked and clearly labeled. The one marked Ray – School Stuff was on the bottom. Ray set the other few boxes to the side of the closet and pulled out the one he wanted. Opening it, he sifted through odds and ends. The tassel from his graduation cap. Photos from proms and homecomings and sports. Some cards from birthdays and other events. A few notebooks and essays along with a not particularly good drawing of some fruit and a pitcher from a long-ago art class. He couldn’t imagine why Caroline had bothered saving it. On the bottom, stacked in reverse chronological order, were four yearbooks. If Hayley had been a year or two behind him in school, then he only needed to look in the ones from his junior and senior year. The pages were stiff
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with age and emitted the musty, stale scent of teenage years left behind. He opened the book from his junior year first and checked through the freshmen photos. Since he didn’t know her maiden name, he ran his finger through the names listed looking for “Hayley”. And there she was. Hayley Merritt. Ray studied the picture of a younger Hayley. A cute kid with long, dark blonde hair and those big, blue-green eyes. She could be a poster girl for the AllAmerican girl. A ghost of a smile played around her lips, as if even then she had secrets she wasn’t quite willing to share. He looked her up in the back of the book to see where else she’d been featured and flipped to those pages. He smiled at the picture of her at the top of the JV cheerleading squad’s pyramid formation. She’d also joined the Drama Club. In his senior yearbook, he found her again in the sophomore section. She hadn’t changed much, though her hair was shorter and styled differently. Her interests hadn’t changed much either, but she’d joined the track team and gone to the state finals. He repacked the books and other memorabilia and stacked the boxes back in the closet. As he passed his desk on the way back to the kitchen, he paused. His laptop blinked insistently, as if sending him a signal. Without a second thought he sat and opened the web browser. Once online, he typed in “Hayley Christopher” and started reading.
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Chapter Five
A couple of mornings later, Fletcher surprised Ray by opening the door seconds after he knocked. “Hey, buddy. Where’s Hayley?” Ray scanned the living area behind Fletcher before focusing once again on the boy. Fletcher glanced over his shoulder at the hallway that led to the bathroom and bedrooms. Ray crossed the threshold and closed the door. “You want to go tell her I’m here?” Fletcher took Ray’s hand with both of his and pulled him in the direction of the closed bathroom door. Ray was about to knock when he heard the unmistakable sound of retching. He hunkered in front of Fletcher. “You want to go see if there are any good cartoons on? I’ll come watch with you for a little while after I see how Hayley’s doing, okay?” Fletcher’s dark gaze searched his and seemed satisfied with whatever it was he saw. He marched off to the sofa and the remote control. Ray turned back to the door. The retching had ceased. He heard Hayley groan. He tapped lightly. “Hayley?” Another groan followed by a toilet flush. “Can I come in?” He thought he heard her mumble something but when there was no further response he began to ease the door open. “I’m coming in.”
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“Oh, please don’t,” Hayley moaned. Too late. He was already in. The bathroom was tiny, barely enough space for two people. Hayley was wedged against the bathtub, her arm draped around the curve of the toilet seat to cushion her head. She looked like she obviously felt—horrible. “What happened? Did you get hold of a bad pot pie?” A response somewhere between a cough and a laugh erupted from her throat. “Migraine.” She covered her eyes with her hands. Ray wasn’t sure what to do. He got down on her level. “Do you have anything you can take for it?” Hayley nodded, eyes still covered. “Where is it? I’ll get it for you.” “Took it. Threw it up.” “Oh.” He thought for a moment. He knew next to nothing about migraine headaches. “Tell me what I can do.” She shook her head. “Nothing,” she whispered. “Are you going to stay in the bathroom all day?” “No.” He could barely hear her. “Want to get back in bed?” She nodded. He touched her arm. “Come on. I’ll help you.” She dropped her hands and squinted at him. “Please don’t be nice to me.” “Okay. No more Mr. Nice Guy.” He helped her up and waited in the hallway while she rinsed her mouth. Then he made her lean on him, whether she wanted to or not. Her rumpled bed was covered in pink-and-white checked
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sheets and a white eyelet comforter embroidered with tiny pink flowers. The wrought iron headboard was a maze of white curlicues. It all looked girly and soft and oddly inviting. Her bedroom could use a man’s touch, or at least a man, but Ray wasn’t about to suggest such a thing at the moment. She shed the thin cotton robe she wore and crawled under the sheet. But not before Ray got a view of a baby blue camisole and blue checked sleep shorts. Keeping her eyes closed, she fumbled for the nightstand drawer. He opened it for her. “What do you need?” “Sleep mask.” He withdrew one made of hot pink silk. She grabbed it and drew it over her eyes, adjusting the elastic at the back of her head. “Light hurts my eyes,” she explained. She eased back onto the pillow. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you later.” She snapped the sleep mask up. “I can’t sleep all day. Fletcher—” He pressed a finger against her lips. “I’ve got it covered.” “But—” “He can hang out with me. I’ve got some errands to run. A couple of things to do at the shop. I’ll buy him one of those kid meals for lunch. It’ll be fine.” Her eyes welled up. “Please stop being nice to me.” One tear overflowed her lid. He swiped at it with his forefinger. “Too late.” He pushed her gently back in the direction of the pillows and lowered the eye shade for her. “Get some sleep.”
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Hayley came awake slowly, assessing her condition as she did. She removed the sleep mask and blinked to clear her vision. The window shade was closed, but that didn’t stop the brutal Florida sun from penetrating the edges. She eased herself to a semi-sitting position. Her headache was reduced to a dull throb behind her eyes, and her stomach had settled. She felt a little shaky, as she always did after a bad migraine, but she was a thousand percent better than she had been this morning. A glance at the bedside clock told her it was after noon. She pushed the sheet back, picked up her robe and made her way to the bathroom. A slow, careful pace kept the throbbing to a minimum. “Oh God.” She cringed at her reflection. Dark circles ringed her eyes. Her hair was a disaster. Her complexion had a grayish pallor to it. The inside of her mouth tasted disgusting. She squeezed toothpaste onto her brush and dealt with that first. Everything else could wait. She padded to the kitchen, noticing the empty living room. It was odd to be in the house without Fletcher. He was always there. Silent. Questioning. As if gauging the varying levels of her inadequacy. She hadn’t saved his mother. She couldn’t seem to help him. As fond as she’d become of him, Fletcher made her feel like a failure. She sniffed, hating the self-pity that overwhelmed her in her weakest moments. The truth was, she’d felt like a failure long before she’d taken custody of Fletcher. But his silence made her feel like more of one. From the cabinet over the refrigerator, she found her prescription migraine medication. She downed one tablet with a glass of cold water. Probably she should eat something, but nothing in the refrigerator or cupboards appealed to her.
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She went back to bed and snuggled under the covers. She closed her eyes, thinking how nice it was that Ray had volunteered to watch Fletcher. He should stop being nice to her. This morning she’d been barely holding it together, and when Ray appeared she was afraid even his small acts of kindness would edge her into a sob fest. He probably hadn’t understood when she’d told him to stop being nice to her. She hadn’t fallen apart, but she found herself even more attracted to him, if such a thing were possible. That fluttery, ripply feeling that ran through her every time she was near him warned her to keep her distance. But she found keeping her distance nearly impossible. For one thing, he lived next door to her. For another, she didn’t want to keep her distance. She wanted to get closer and closer and closer. And then what? she asked herself. You know what. Shades of her ex-husband swam before her eyes. Once upon a time, he’d stirred those same feelings in her. She’d fallen head over heels in love with Trey and allowed her own dreams and plans to be overshadowed by his. She’d married him, believed him when he said they’d be together forever. The star football player and the professional cheerleader. Surely that was a match made in heaven, wasn’t it? But Hayley had watched it slowly fall apart, and she’d been powerless to stop it. The star football player wasn’t indestructible. When he stopped being a star, he didn’t need a cheerleader any more. No, that wasn’t exactly true. He still liked having cheerleaders around. Except for the one he’d married. Hayley squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could squeeze out the memories as well. Finding Trey in bed with one of the cute new rookie cheerleaders. Watching him spiral downhill on booze and prescription
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painkillers. Listening as he lashed out at her, blamed her, mocked her. He’d pushed her out of their home and out of his life. And she’d walked away with virtually nothing. After seven years of marriage, she’d managed to retain only a few pieces of furniture and her car. She’d foolishly signed a pre-nuptial agreement at the insistence of Trey’s agent right before he’d been drafted. Hayley hadn’t cared. She’d been in love. She wasn’t marrying Trey for his money, which he didn’t have at the time anyway. She’d been anxious to prove she was marrying for love. She’d made every classic mistake it was possible for a woman to make. She didn’t have even one credit card in her own name. She wasn’t on the deed to the elegant home she’d shared with Trey in a posh golf course community outside Jacksonville. All of the investments were in Trey’s name because he was the one with the multi-million-dollar income as a star quarterback for a professional football team with numerous endorsement deals. She’d trusted Trey instead of looking out for herself, a mistake she couldn’t forgive herself for. Idiot, she muttered under her breath as she turned over. By the time the divorce was final, her reputation had been shredded in the local press. Trey’s PR firm had leaked enough information to the Jacksonville media to raise speculation about whether she had been unfaithful to him with a fellow teammate. Trey had come off looking like the injured party, while she’d been portrayed as a gold-digging hussy. Hayley gritted her teeth, which added to the throb in her head. She forced herself to relax. It was over and done with. She couldn’t go back and change it. She could only learn from it and not repeat the same mistakes in the future. Which meant she had to keep her distance from Ray whether she wanted to or not. Disaster lurked on the other side of getting involved with him. She was
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sure of it. She was also sure of one other thing. She wouldn’t survive a second time. Besides, she reminded herself, her plans did not include staying in Florida. She wanted to get as far away as possible and leave her past behind. And that included any threat Carlos might present in the future. She doubted he’d travel to California to make her pay for what he perceived as her meddling in his affairs. She hoped he wouldn’t bother looking for her, even in this tiny north Florida town. Protecting herself also meant she could protect Fletcher. And that would be the best possible outcome for both of them. The medication began to work, and she could feel herself floating, her limbs becoming almost numb, the tightness in her head easing. She fell asleep.
Hayley came awake to the muffled sound of a questioning male voice. She glanced at the alarm clock on her nightstand, gasping when she saw it was almost five o’clock. The migraine medication worked when she kept it down. It worked by knocking her out for several hours, giving the headache time to dissipate. Even though she was groggy and loose-limbed, the pain was gone. She sat up slowly and reached for her robe. Wrapping it around her, she crept down the short hallway on bare feet and peeked around the corner into the living area. Ray had his back to her and was staring into an open cupboard. He’d set Fletcher on the counter behind him and was peppering him with questions. “Tuna fish? How do you feel about tuna fish?” He glanced over his shoulder at the boy. “Do you even know what tuna fish is?” As usual, Fletcher didn’t respond. Ray turned back to the cupboard. “SpaghettiOs? I bet you like those.
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They were invented for kids your age.” He moved a few cans aside. “Whole kernel corn. Green beans. Peaches.” He took the can of peaches out and set it on the counter. “I know you like peaches. There’s tomato soup in here. What do you think, Fletch? My mom always made me tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich after I was sick. Hayley might like that. If she ever wakes up.” Hayley moved silently across the living room. “She’s awake.” Ray spun around. They stared at each other for a minute. It occurred to Hayley that she might be looking better than she had this morning but still far from her best. She hadn’t thought to stop off in the bathroom and run a brush through her hair or put on some lip gloss. Oh well. She reminded herself she wasn’t trying to impress or attract Ray anyway. Fletcher started to slide off the counter, and Ray helped him down. The boy moved to Hayley’s side and looked up at her. Hayley hugged him to her, patting his shoulder. She bent to kiss the top of his head while he clung to her legs. Barely audible whimpers of either distress or relief escaped his small body. “It’s okay, Fletch. I’m all better now.” He held onto her longer than usual. She ran her fingers through his dark hair and rubbed his back. “It’s okay, sweetie.” After a bit, he emitted a long sigh. She could sense the tension drain out of him, and he eased his hold on her. She sat at the table and pulled Fletcher into her lap. “Did you have fun today?” Fletcher nodded enthusiastically. “Did you go to McDonald’s and get a cheeseburger?” Fletcher shook his head. He held his hands out and flexed his fingers. “Chicken nuggets?” Hayley guessed. Fletcher nodded. “Did you play on the playground?”
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Fletcher nodded again. Hayley gave him a quick hug. “I’m glad you had a good day.” They both looked at Ray who’d been watching them the entire time. “Can you tell Ray thank you for taking such good care of you today?” Hayley said softly into Fletcher’s ear. Fletcher slid off her lap and crossed to wrap his arms around Ray’s legs. He looked up at him and made a sound in the back of his throat. Ray put a hand on top of Fletcher’s head. “You’re welcome. We’ll do it again sometime, okay?” Fletcher nodded and looked back at Hayley. “Want to play with your Legos?” she asked him. “Or see if Sponge-Bob is on?” Fletcher came back to her and put his hand her shoulder and stared at her face. Seeming satisfied that she was back to her normal self, he went to turn on the TV. After he found the channel he wanted, he dumped a plastic container of blocks onto the coffee table. Hayley’s gaze met Ray’s again. “Thanks for taking him today. I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.” “Nah. He’s pretty good at entertaining himself. You’re doing a good job trying to teach him manners. Even when he doesn’t speak, he’s good at getting his intentions across, isn’t he?” “Yes, he is. Now what’s this I hear about tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches? Sustenance for the invalid?” Ray lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “My mom’s cure-all after a bout of just about anything.” Hayley situated herself on one of the stools on the other side of the counter. “I’d offer to help, but every time I make a grilled cheese sandwich I burn it. I don’t know why. I can’t seem to control the heat.”
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“I’ve noticed.” Hayley blushed at the suggestion in Ray’s tone. Ray didn’t look away. Hayley decided to make a joke of it. “I guess I generate so much heat when I’m in the kitchen, everything burns.” “Or maybe you’re just a lousy cook.” Ray grinned at her. “Hey.” Hayley affected outrage. “I thought you liked my cooking. What happened to ‘no one burns frozen pizza the way you do’?” “I was being nice.” Ray’s grin widened. Hayley scowled. “I thought I told you to stop being nice to me.” “You did. It’s not going to happen.” They stared at each other across the expanse of countertop. Undercurrents swirled below the invisible connection between them. Hayley bit her lip, not sure what had happened, not certain of herself or her ability to resist Ray’s appeal. She blinked and shifted on the stool. The moment passed. Ray, too, seemed to regain his bearings. He held up the can. “Tomato soup with your sandwich?” Hayley nodded. “Sure. I think I’ll go get dressed.” She sped back to her bedroom and threw herself across the bed, hugging the pillow to her. She buried her face in the soft down and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Something she hadn’t planned on had been set in motion, and she might be powerless to stop it. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t try.
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Chapter Six
Ray knocked off work early and went home to take a shower. His open-air wood shop was ideal for the work he did, but this time of year, the heat became almost unbearable. He dried off and dressed in his usual polo shirt and baggy cargo shorts and flip-flops. In the driveway sat an unfamiliar dark blue sedan. A black woman with an overly generous hourglass figure wearing a gray pantsuit picked her way across the gravel drive toward it from Hayley’s side of the duplex. The woman climbed behind the wheel and started the engine. Ray went to the kitchen and got a cold drink out of the refrigerator, perusing the contents while he was at it, trying to decide if there was anything in there he felt like eating. He had a pound of ground beef. Maybe he’d fire up the grill and put together some cheeseburgers. Back in the living room, he turned on the sports channel. The blue sedan still idled out front. He set his soda can down and walked out to the car. The woman lowered the window and gazed up at him from behind oversized sunglasses. “Can I help you with anything?” Ray asked. “I don’t think so,” she replied in a raspy southern drawl. “Unless you know the whereabouts of your neighbor, Hayley Christopher, or when she plans to be home.”
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Ray took in the no-frills model of the car the woman was driving, a stack of official-looking files in an open, soft-sided briefcase on the passenger seat and the ID card which he couldn’t read hanging from a strap around her neck. “I’m Ray Braddock,” he told the woman, giving her his friendliest smile. “Hayley’s landlord. And friend,” he added. One of the woman’s eyebrows rose slightly. “I don’t know her schedule, but she’s usually back home around this time or shortly after. You’re welcome to wait at my place,” he invited, his curiosity piqued. “Oh no, that’s very kind of you, but I couldn’t. It’s against regulations.” Ray stepped back a bit, shifting his stance. Perspiration broke out on the woman’s upper lip and forehead as the car’s air conditioner tried to keep up with the heat and humidity creeping in from the open window. “Oh, sure. I understand. I thought I’d offer you a cold drink and a more comfortable place to wait. But, yeah, I understand. Rules and all.” He grinned at her again. “Well, I’ve got a cold soda waiting for me. I’m sure Hayley will be here. Sometime.” He started back to his house. The car engine turned off and the door opened. The woman exited. “Excuse me, Mr. Braddock.” He turned back. “Ray. Please.” “All right. Ray. Maybe I will step inside for a few minutes. I’d like to ask you a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind.” “Not at all. As long as you don’t mind if I decide not to answer them.” Once inside, she turned down his offer of a soda but accepted a glass of ice water. Ray muted the television, and they took seats at right angles to each other on the sofa.
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“I’m Callie Maxwell, by the way. Department of Child Welfare.” She handed him a business card embossed with the Florida state seal and the DCW logo on it and her contact information. Ray nodded in acknowledgment and set the card on the coffee table. “How long have you known Ms. Christopher?” Callie asked. “Not long. A few weeks.” “Long enough to form an impression?” Ray met her gaze head-on, wondering what she was getting at. What kind of information was she fishing for? “I’d say long enough to form an impression, yes.” “And?” Ray took a drink of soda and said nothing. If she wanted specifics, she could ask specific questions. Callie took a delicate sip of her ice water. “May I ask what impression you’ve formed?” “Certainly.” Callie waited for him to elaborate, and when he did not, she sat forward. “Is there a reason you’re making this more difficult than it has to be?” “Is there a reason you can’t ask a direct question?” “Excuse me, I thought I had. What is your impression of Hayley Christopher with whom, by your own admission, you’ve been acquainted with for a few weeks?” “I like her. I think she’s smart and tough and she has a good heart.” “Have you also had the opportunity to meet Fletcher Mariano?” “I have.” “And?” Ray raised an eyebrow at her and took another drink of his soda.
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Callie let out a soft little sigh. “What is your impression of Fletcher Mariano?” “Seems like an okay kid to me.” “Have you noticed anything unusual about him?” “Like what?” “Have you heard him speak?” “No.” “And you don’t find such behavior unusual in a child his age?” “To tell you the truth, Callie, I haven’t had much opportunity to be around children his age since I was one. It’s possible, isn’t it, that if a child Fletcher’s age doesn’t speak, perhaps he has nothing to say? A lot of adults could take a cue from kids like him, don’t you think?” The corner of Callie’s mouth went up, as if she were trying not to smile. “No doubt,” she agreed. She seemed to carefully consider how to word her next question before she spoke. “Do you think, based on your brief acquaintance with Ms. Christopher, that she’s a fit guardian for Fletcher?” “Sure. She’s as good as anybody else.” Oops. That hadn’t come out the way he’d planned. “I mean, uh, it looks to me like she takes as good of care of Fletcher as she can.” Yikes, the hole was getting deeper. “She does her best.” Shut up, Ray. Shut up, he warned himself. “Isn’t that all anyone can do?” Callie Maxwell sat up straighter and bristled a bit. “Despite the negative publicity of the past few years, the Florida Department of Child Welfare does maintain standards of care for those under its jurisdiction. Making one’s best effort, while admirable, does not necessarily mean the standard has been reached.”
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Callie stood, leaving the glass of water on a coaster. “Thank you, Mr. Braddock, for your time and for the water. You’ve been very helpful.” Great, Ray thought. He’d somehow managed to piss off the DCW social worker. Hayley would hate him if his words somehow worked against her application to be Fletcher’s foster mother. “If there’s anything else, any more questions, anything I can do—” “You’ve done more than enough,” Callie informed him as she stepped through the door and out into the late afternoon heat. “Thank you again. Ah, there’s Ms. Christopher now.” Sure enough, Hayley’s Mustang turned into the drive. Ray gave a halfhearted wave and stepped back inside, figuring the less he was seen the better. An hour later, Ray had his grill fired up and laid three hamburger patties over the flames. Hayley’s sliding door opened and she came toward him. She looked sexier than usual in snug-fitting, knee-length exercise pants and a matching, form-fitting, V-neck top. She had on sneakers, and her hair was bound up in a messy bun from which lots of wild tendrils had escaped. Ray licked his lips. Man, he could look at her all day and not get tired of it. “Hi there.” “Hi.” Her purposeful stride stopped a few feet short of where he stood. They stared at each other for a several awkward moments. Ray turned to the grill and adjusted the temperature. He turned back to find her watching him. “You want a cheeseburger for dinner? Or were you planning to burn a chicken pot pie later?” “No. I mean yes. Uh, I haven’t decided. I was wondering what my social worker was talking to you about.”
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“Nothing much. She asked if I knew you and I said I did. What was my impression of you, if I’d met Fletcher, stuff like that. She wasn’t there very long before you came home.” Hayley chewed the inside of her lip for a moment. “What’d you tell her?” “How about if I bring these burgers over when they’re done, and I’ll tell you all about it?” “O-okay. I’ve got some macaroni and cheese I could make.” “Sounds good.” Ray turned back to the grill, lifted the lid and flipped the sizzling meat. “It’s the kind from a box. It doesn’t take very long if I use the microwave.” He looked at her again. “I’m sure it’ll be delicious.” “I’ll try not to ruin it, if that’s what you mean.” She turned to go back inside, and Ray watched until the door slid closed behind her. His mouth watered. But it had nothing to do with anticipation of cheeseburgers and macaroni. The hamburgers were mouth-watering, if Ray did say so himself. And Hayley’s macaroni and cheese, though thick and sticky, was edible. Ray didn’t care what he was eating as long as he got to do it at the same table as Hayley. And Fletcher. Even without the gift of speech, Fletcher could communicate well. As soon as they were done, Fletcher brought out a Candyland game and offered it to Ray. “Ever since Molly taught him, it’s his new favorite thing to do. I bought it at a garage sale for fifty cents.” “Okay, buddy, let’s see what you’ve got.” “You two go on and play. I’ll clean up in here. And if you don’t mind, maybe I’ll shower before I give Fletcher his bath.” “I don’t mind.”
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Ray turned on Sports Center with the volume low and helped Fletcher set out the board, cards and game pieces. Fletcher chose the red piece and went first, moving the little plastic man deliberately to the green square. He looked up at Ray. Ray gave him a thumbs up. “Good job, buddy.” Fletcher ducked his head. Something flickered in his eyes and across his face, gone almost as quickly as it came. They’d finished the game by the time Hayley reappeared in a pair of baggy running shorts and a tank top. Ray had turned up the volume on the TV and was explaining the nuances of a baseball game to Fletcher. “Okay, Fletch, time for your bath.” Fletcher looked up at Ray, and Ray swore he knew what the kid was asking even though he never opened his mouth. “You got any boats in by the bathtub, kid?” Ray knew he did. He’d seen them the day Hayley was felled by a migraine. Fletcher slid off the couch and grabbed Ray’s hand. Ray stood, catching Hayley’s eye and mouthing, “Is it okay?” “Sure, go ahead. Don’t forget to wash behind his ears.” Hayley took Ray’s seat and mindlessly flipped channels, listening to Ray’s voice from behind the bathroom door. She couldn’t make out all the words, but she heard explosive sounds, as if he’d engaged Fletcher’s boats in sea combat. She leaned her head against the back of the sofa, grateful for even this small reprieve from the constant vigil of watching over Fletcher. She did her best to entertain him, read to him, play childish games with him. But it wasn’t easy being a single parent. There was no break. There was constant concern for his welfare, bills to be paid. The worry of whether she would qualify as a foster mother and whether she was doing the right thing in trying.
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Some evenings she wanted to climb the walls with boredom and loneliness before she fell into bed, exhausted by her own frustration. Ray was an attractive distraction, but she was afraid of relying on him too much. She hated how much she looked forward to catching a glimpse of him. Even that could make her heart race. And if he was in close proximity to her? Forget it. She couldn’t control her reaction to him, and wondered if she even managed to hide it from him. Ray made her want all the same things she’d once wanted with Trey. Hayley remembered everything she’d thought she had, and how easily she’d lost it all. How easily she’d been crushed by Trey’s abandonment. She’d fallen into a black hole, and it had taken her almost a year to climb back out. Fletcher, at least, gave her a reason to try. But there were too many days when she felt she was teetering on the brink of falling back into that black abyss. Her cell phone rang, yanking her out of her potentially dismal thoughts. As a general rule, when her cell phone rang, it was one of her two close friends, Andre or Paige, or else it was one of her co-workers at the Y looking to switch classes. It was Paige. “What’s up, girlfriend?” she began in her usual upbeat style. Hayley smiled, which was what she normally did whenever she talked to or spent time with Paige. Her enthusiasm for life and the people she cared about was infectious. No wonder she loved Paige. “Not much, actually. We just finished dinner. Fletcher’s in the tub.” There was a pause. “By himself? Girl, you can’t leave a little kid in a bathtub alone.” “Uh, no. He’s not alone.” Hayley plunked herself back on the sofa, crossing her legs yoga-style. Another pause, then Paige said, “Explain please.”
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“It’s my neighbor. Fletcher seems to have taken to him.” “Him? Explain please.” “There isn’t anything to explain, Paige. He lives next door. In fact, he’s my landlord. A social worker showed up this afternoon before I got home, and he talked to her. He grilled some hamburgers. I made some truly disgusting macaroni and cheese. We ate, and now he’s giving Fletcher a bath. As soon as Fletcher’s in bed, he’s going to tell me what he and the social worker talked about.” “You’re explaining a lot for someone who claims there’s nothing to explain,” Paige pointed out. “That’s because I know you. Now that I’ve mentioned him, you won’t let it go.” “Because someone has to look out for you. And even if I’m two thousand miles away, I do a pretty good job of it, if I do say so myself.” “You do, Paige. I don’t know what I’d do without you and Andre.” “We’ll talk about Andre later. Don’t try to change the subject. So this nextdoor neighbor? He’s…single?” “Widowed.” “Widowed? Does that mean he’s ancient?” Hayley chuckled. “He’s a couple years older than me. I knew him from high school.” During the brief silence that followed, Hayley could almost hear the wheels turning in Paige’s head before she spoke again. “Name please. I’ll Google him right now.” “Paige, that isn’t necessary. I know him. He’s a good guy.” “He was a good guy when you were in high school fifteen years ago. Name please.”
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Hayley sighed. She knew Paige wouldn’t let it go. “It’s Ray Braddock.” An even longer silence ensued before Paige spoke again. “Not ripple effect Ray Braddock?” Having a BFF who knew all of your secrets was a double-edged sword at times. Paige had been there for the beginning and the end of her relationship with Trey. During one late night of girl talk their sophomore year, Hayley’d explained the ripple effect to Paige. She’d mentioned feeling it at a distance with Ray and up close with Trey. Paige filed it away in her memory bank like she did everything else. “Yes,” Hayley answered softly. It sounded like bath time was winding down. “Oh, girl. You better be careful.” “I am. I will.” “I’m going to Google him anyway,” Paige informed her. “Google away,” Hayley replied. “So what about this social worker? What’d she have to say?” “Not much. She has to drop by a couple of times unannounced and check things out here. Make sure I’ve got food in the fridge, that I’m looking out for Fletch.” “Funny, isn’t it, they never did that when he was with Steffie and that loser Carlos? Maybe they’d have rescued him sooner, and he’d be okay now.” “Maybe. But I think Stef did the best she could for him. It’s not like I was around to help her, either.” “Hay, when are you going to stop beating yourself up about that? You tried to help her more than once, and she wouldn’t go for it. It’s not like you didn’t have your own problems to deal with.”
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Hayley sighed. “I know.” She heard the bathroom door open. “Paige, I’ve got to go. I love you.” She disconnected and sat up straighter when Ray appeared with a clean, pajama-ed Fletcher in his arms. “We have bathed,” Ray intoned. “We have fought in the mighty sea, and we have won. We’ve brushed our teeth. Let’s see the teeth, Fletch.” Fletcher obediently opened his mouth. “Yep. Looks good. “Last but not least, we have chosen Green Eggs and Ham for our final reading of the evening.” “And who will be reading that epic tonight?” Hayley inquired, steeling herself for the reply. She’d read Dr. Seuss books often, and this one in particular of late. She sometimes thought she’d go stark raving mad if she had to read it one more time. But she gritted her teeth and read it anyway, because Fletcher seemed to enjoy the silly rhyming stories. Fletcher patted Ray’s shoulder and Hayley hopped up. She stood on tiptoe and kissed Fletcher’s soft little-boy cheek and ruffled his hair. “Okay, if Ray doesn’t mind, I’ll let him read to you this one time.” She held out her arms. “Do I get to tuck you in, though?” Fletcher leaned toward her and Ray let go. She loved the feel of Fletcher’s little arms tight around her neck. She carried him to his bed and pulled the covers over him. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” She kissed him once more. To Ray she mouthed a heartfelt, “Thank you.” Back in the kitchen she set about making lunch for herself and Fletcher for tomorrow. She’d learned that the mornings slipped away, leaving her rushed and harried if she didn’t plan ahead. And bringing a lunch was much more economical than stepping out to buy one on her break. Ray reappeared after a few minutes. “He’s out like a light. I didn’t even get to the good part before he fell asleep.”
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“There is no good part after you’ve read it a hundred times, believe me.” “Yeah, I can see how it would get old real quick.” Hayley stowed the two paper lunch bags in the refrigerator then reached into the cabinet above. Ray watched in silence as she undid the rubber bands and the layers of wrapping to reveal a pack of cigarettes. She removed one of the extra long filter tips and offered the package to Ray. He shook his head, and she carefully rewrapped them and returned them to the cabinet. “I know it’s stupid and unhealthy, but I can’t tell you how ready I am for Fletcher to fall asleep so I can get away with it.” She took a bottle of wine from the refrigerator and a corkscrew from a nearby drawer. Ray took the corkscrew from her and opened the bottle. Hayley had her wineglass ready. “Would you like some? Or a beer, maybe?” “A beer. I’m not much of a wine drinker, myself.” “Cheap white zin is not actually considered wine in many circles,” she informed him. After Ray filled her glass, Hayley stowed the bottle back in the refrigerator and handed Ray a beer. In silent agreement, they made their way out to the front porch. Hayley lit what was left of the candle out there and settled into one of the chairs. She lit her cigarette and exhaled on a sigh, then took a sip of her wine. “Ah. Heaven,” she declared. Ray lifted his beer bottle toward her, and she clinked her glass against it. “To simple pleasures,” he toasted. They both took a drink. Hayley took another drag off her cigarette, finding her pleasure in her evening ritual increased with Ray nearby. She also found it increasingly easy to ignore those little warning bells in the back of her head that told her not to get too used to it, not to enjoy it too much.
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“You were going to tell me what Ms. Maxwell wanted with you.” “Nothing much. She asked if I knew you. I said I did. She wanted to know what my impression of you was. I said I liked you and a few other complimentary things.” “Oh yeah? Like what?” “Typical woman. Fishing for compliments.” “Come on, Ray, don’t hold out on me. I’m in desperate need of a decent compliment.” “I told her I liked you, and I thought you were smart and tough.” “Well, that’s better than saying I’m stupid and weak, even if it’s closer to the truth.” “Stop it,” Ray admonished her gently. Hayley ducked her head. “I know. I know. But when you feel like all the world’s done lately is kick dirt at you, it’s hard to believe there isn’t a reason for it.” “Maybe the world’s jealous. Did you ever think of that?” “Not hardly. Though it’d be nice if it were true.” “Hell, Hayley, think about it. You’ve got a lot going for you. Aside from your obvious physical attributes.” Ray coughed. “You’re no dummy. Look what you’ve done for Fletcher, taking him in, making a home for him. You gotta be tough to take that on.” “Yes, well, but back to the physical attributes.” Hayley giggled. “Don’t get me started,” Ray warned. He tilted his beer bottle toward his lips. “Was that all?”
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“She asked if I’d met Fletcher. I said I had. Had I noticed anything unusual about him. I asked her like what. She brought up his not speaking. I told her maybe he didn’t have anything to say.” Hayley giggled again. “You didn’t.” “I did.” “I bet she thought you were a smart ass.” “Maybe. I’m no expert, but I don’t think there is anything wrong with him. I think he’ll start talking when he’s ready.” “They made me take him and have him tested. But they couldn’t find anything wrong with him, either. Maybe you’re right. What else?” “Uh, she asked if I thought you were a fit foster parent for him.” Hayley sat up straighter and stared at Ray. “Oh no, what did you tell her? That you don’t think I am?” “No, no. I told her I thought you were as good as anyone else. That you were doing your best and wasn’t that what counted?” “Oh great. What’d she say? That my best didn’t even come close to being good enough?” “No, she didn’t say that.” “Ray…” “Nothing. She said something about DCW having standards is all. That was pretty much it.” Hayley relaxed back in her chair. The cigarette was gone. She cupped the globe of her wineglass in both hands and gazed out at the near darkness. “It probably doesn’t matter. Once they finish their background investigation, I’ll be shocked as hell if they let me keep Fletcher until he’s adopted anyway. I’m not even sure if I should.” “Why?”
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“Oh, lots of reasons. Initially I thought at least Fletcher knew me. He wouldn’t be surrounded by strangers. But maybe strangers would have had a better idea of how to take care of him.” “Again, I’m no expert, but it looks to me like you take darn good care of him.” A ripple of disagreement ran across Hayley’s shoulders. “Like you told Ms. Maxwell, I do my best, but I never realized how tough it would be to be responsible for him 24/7. This is all temporary anyway. The state will find a good home for Fletcher, and then I can go ahead with the plans I made.” “The job in L.A., right?”
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Chapter Seven
Just a few blocks from the Y where Hayley worked was a city park with a fenced-in section equipped with playground equipment just Fletcher’s size. He loved crawling around in the small fort and a mini-maze of tunnels, bridges, ladders and slides. Every other Friday after she got paid, she would stop at the nearby McDonald’s for ice cream, and then she’d turn Fletcher loose at the park for a little while. Today the park was relatively quiet. Only a couple of mothers were there, keeping an eye on their small children. Several mature oak and sycamore trees shaded the area, and with the sun beginning its evening descent, it was almost pleasant to be outside. Hayley took a seat on one of the benches in the shade, where she could watch Fletcher while she vegetated and dreamed of the future she envisioned once she escaped Perrish, Florida. As soon as Fletcher had a good home, she’d put her plan into action as she could have ten years ago. It wasn’t too late to make the choice she should have made then. That’s what she kept telling herself. She could still succeed, still make something of her life. Suddenly a man dropped onto the bench near her, yanking her out of her current fantasy, which included some nameless, faceless male escorting her out for the evening to a movie premiere or a charity event. “How you doing, Hayley?”
A Forever Kind of Guy
That the man spoke to her and knew her name startled her even further out of her reverie. She recognized the voice, and that fact sent her into high alert mode. Panicked, she stared at the playground. Fletcher climbed out of one of the tunnels and stood up. He gazed across at her, his expression even more serious than usual when he saw the man next to her. She wondered if he remembered. She raised her hand and waved to reassure him. She forced herself to smile. Everything’s okay. There’s nothing to fear. Go on and play. “God, Niko, you scared the life out of me,” she said when Fletcher turned away and crossed the bridge. She watched him slide down to the next level and then climb the ladder to the fort. Niko chuckled, his gaze on Fletcher. “He’s getting big.” The last time she’d seen Niko was outside the funeral home after the service she’d arranged for Steffie. Carlos had been in her face, threatening her, cursing her, out of control, mindless with anger, hatred, grief or possibly a combination of all three. He and Andre had almost come to blows by the time Niko pulled Carlos back, and with a couple of the others from their gang, or posse, or whatever they called the group of tough guys they hung with, got him out of there. Hayley knew his presence here had something to do with Carlos. Niko and Carlos were related, half-brothers or cousins, perhaps. Hayley’d never known the exact nature of their connection. But she’d met him more than once when she’d visited Steffie. Always there were a couple of guys hanging out in the apartment, with little to say and that suspicious gaze in their eyes when they looked at her. Niko was the only one she’d ever actually met, the only one who seemed to have any manners at all, the only one who didn’t appear to hate her or resent her presence. He was also the only one who ever noticed Fletcher and took time
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to play with him or talk to him. But still, she never let herself forget he was a part of Carlos’s world with Carlos’s agenda to follow. In fact, it was through Niko that she managed to see Steffie at all that last year or so before she died. After the day Carlos kicked her out of the apartment, hurling curses at her and practically shoving her toward her car, Niko put himself between them, and whatever he said to Carlos forced him to back off. That day, Niko slid a piece of paper into her hand and gestured for her to get out of there. On the paper was a phone number. Niko’s cell phone. He’d made himself a conduit between her and Steffie, circumventing Carlos’s watchful eye, at no small risk to himself, she was sure. She’d always wondered why he bothered, but she’d never asked. “Yes, he is,” she agreed now, noticing Niko’s gaze fixed on Fletcher, following his progress in the play area. After a few minutes, he turned toward her and said, “So how you doing?” Hayley studied his face for a moment, deciding he could easily be Carlos’s half-brother. There was definitely a resemblance in their facial features and their eyes. Fletcher had the same dark eyes and similar bone structure. Hayley knew Niko hadn’t shown up to find out how she was but she answered anyway. “I’m okay. How are you?” Niko shrugged but said nothing. Hayley’s brow crinkled in thought as a memory suddenly surfaced. On one of her visits to Steffie, she’d seen him looking at Steffie just this way—wistful, defeated. Resigned. Her gaze had crossed his and he’d done the same thing then. Shrugged. Not with indifference, but with a kind of powerlessness to change what was. “I got a message for you,” Niko said. Ah, now they were getting to the reason for his visit. “From Carlos.”
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“Yeah. He got some papers from the state. Want him to give up Fletcher.” Callie Maxwell had mentioned this. If Carlos didn’t relinquish his parental rights, Fletcher couldn’t be adopted. “He says he’ll think about it on one condition.” Hayley already knew what the one condition was. Niko turned to look at her. “You don’t be the one that adopts him.” Still it came as a bit of a blow. Even though she’d told herself she wasn’t equipped to parent Fletcher, even though she had no intention of adopting him, the fact that his low-life father didn’t want her to didn’t set well. “I don’t know why he cares,” she flung out, not bothering to hide the bitterness in her tone. “He don’t. He don’t care what happens to him. He don’t know it, but Fletcher ain’t his kid.” “What?” Hayley couldn’t hide her astonishment. “You mean Steffie…?” Again that shrug. “Not like he treated her decent, either. Not like he ever cared what happened to her.” His tone turned subtly bitter. There was a slight catch in his voice. Hayley stared at him, the biceps bulging out against the sleeves of his teeshirt, the baggy jeans and big sneakers. He wore his dark hair cropped close to his head. Tattoos swirled along every bit of skin visible from his neck down. One earlobe sported a diamond stud, and an oversized cross dangled from the heavy gold chain encircling his neck. He exuded a tough guy persona, and yet there was something vulnerable about him, something that made Hayley sad. “You were her friend, though,” she replied softly. “You cared about her.” No matter what he said now, she knew it was true. “Didn’t do no good, caring about her, not after he got hold of her.” Hayley had no reply to that truth. “Is he still in jail?”
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“For now.” Something in Niko’s tone told her he didn’t expect Carlos to stay there for long. “Anyway, you got to promise you won’t keep him. Carlos says anyone but you, okay. You keep him he’ll make you sorry.” “Nice. He’d come after me because I try to take care of his son. And he doesn’t care what that would do to Fletcher.” “Carlos don’t care about him,” Niko repeated. He turned again to look at her. “You disrespected him. You tried to get his woman to leave him. You ain’t getting her kid. That’s how he sees it.” “Basically, I wouldn’t follow orders, so he’s going to make me suffer if he can, and Fletcher in the process.” “He’ll go after Fletcher first.” Niko’s voice was low, calm and deadly serious. A sick feeling descended on Hayley. “That’s how he’ll pay me back. By hurting his child. A child I failed to protect.” Niko nodded. “Except Fletcher ain’t his kid.” Niko smiled. His face transformed. His white teeth shone and his dark eyes crinkled. Hayley thought if Fletcher ever smiled, this is what it would look like. They both looked back at the playground. Fletcher’d had enough play time. He paused at the gate, his gaze fixed on them. Wariness and suspicion rose off him in waves. Already he viewed the world as an unfriendly environment. More than anything, Hayley wanted to rid him of that idea. She wanted to get him to a place where he wouldn’t be hurt anymore. Where he could be loved. Someplace he could at least have a chance to be happy, to succeed. Niko’s next words came out in a rush. “You do what you have to do. Find a safe place for him.” He put a hand on her arm. “Promise me.” Hayley knew she had no choice but to do as Niko asked. She’d never had a choice. She had to protect Fletcher. “Tell Carlos I agree to his terms.”
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She stood and strode toward Fletcher, holding her hand out to him. “It’s okay, Fletch. Come on.” He met her halfway ,and she swung him up on her hip and turned back toward Niko. “That’s Niko,” she told Fletcher. “Do you remember him?” Fletcher gazed at Niko somberly, making it impossible to tell if he had any recollection of him or not. Niko reached into his pocket, dug out a roll of bills and offered them to Hayley. “Here. Take this.” Hayley didn’t know what to make of the gesture. She made no move to take the money. “It’s not from Carlos. It’s from me. For him.” He nodded at Fletcher. “Take it.” When Hayley hesitated, he stepped closer and tucked the cash into the side pocket of the purse she had slung over her shoulder. “If Carlos gets out.” He held her gaze with his, as if debating with himself about what else to say. “You take him.” He nodded at Fletcher. “Someplace far away. Someplace safe.” Hayley stared at Niko, clutching Fletcher closer to her. His warning made the threat from Carlos to both her and Fletcher real. Niko bent and brushed his lips against Fletcher’s temple and whispered something to him in Spanish. Niko stared at them both a moment longer then raised a hand in a half wave before he strode off to the parking lot.
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Chapter Eight
According to her lease, she had a five-day grace period to pay her rent, and for the first time, Hayley’d had to use it. Today was day five, and luckily, payday. Plus, she’d received her payment from DCW for Fletcher’s care. It wasn’t much, but it helped. She’d taken the cash Niko had tucked into her purse and hidden it. A thousand dollars safely tucked away for a true emergency. She hoped she never needed it and didn’t want to think about where it had come from. Fletcher was the intended beneficiary, not her. For that reason, she would keep it and use it only if she had to in order to keep him safe. On her lunch break, she’d filled the Mustang’s gas tank and had the oil changed. She planned to never have less than half a tank of gas in her car from now on. Before she fell asleep at night, she thought about where she could go and what she would do once she got there. Would she need to change her identity to foil Carlos? How did one go about that? It couldn’t be as easy as television shows and movies made it look. Although she had no desire to involve Paige or Andre directly, she knew they’d help her if she needed them. The possibilities whirled through her mind before she slept, but each morning when she woke, safe in her own bed, her fears temporarily receded. She would write her rent check and get it over to Ray as soon as possible. She imagined he wouldn’t hassle her if she didn’t pay her rent on time, but she didn’t want to owe him anything either. Her feelings were a jumbled mess as it was. She didn’t need being beholden to Ray for financial help to add to them.
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As soon as she got home she took her checkbook from the kitchen drawer and wrote the check. One of the good things about small-town living. Rent was cheap. If she’d stayed in Jacksonville, she’d have been living in a hovel for what Ray charged for two bedrooms and a bath. She tore the check out of the checkbook and glanced out the glass door. The overhead doors to Ray’s shop were open, and she could see him standing inside, out of the hot sun, talking to another man. She stuck the check in an envelope and sealed it. She’d walk it over to him right now and put it in his hand. That way there’d be no question that she’d paid within her grace period. “Fletch?” she called. “Want to go see Ray for a minute?” Fletcher had gone to his room, but he appeared instantly at the mention of Ray’s name. Hayley smiled at him. Maybe invocation of the word “Ray” could get him to cooperate whenever he wasn’t feeling like it. She unlocked the door, and the two strode across the backyard and the gravel alley. Ray watched their approach, and the other man broke off whatever he’d been saying and turned to follow their progress as well. “Hey there,” Ray said by way of greeting. He hunkered to Fletcher’s level and held out his hand. “Hi, buddy. How you doing?” Fletcher slid the palm of his hand against Ray’s. They bumped fists. Hayley looked on in wonder. When had this started? Ray picked Fletcher up and stood with him. He glanced at Hayley, then at the other man. “Roscoe, meet Hayley Christopher. Hayley, Roscoe Lee Washington, the best carpenter within fifty miles.” “Yeah, and you be the best liar within a hundred,” Roscoe replied in a good-natured baritone. He held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Hayley.” He was big and brawny, and when he smiled his dark eyes crinkled and his lips parted to reveal
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a mouthful of teeth. He wore faded overalls with no shirt under them and heavyduty work boots. His hands were like work-roughened paws, but Hayley warmed to him instantly. “And this is Fletcher,” Ray informed Roscoe after he and Hayley shook hands. Roscoe nodded to Fletcher. “Young man.” “I, uh, wanted to bring you my rent check,” Hayley said by way of explanation. She handed Ray the envelope. He thanked her and stuffed it in his pocket. Hayley glanced over his shoulder at the interior of the shop. “Do I get a guided tour?” In truth, she wasn’t exactly sure about the nature of Ray’s work. She hadn’t asked and he’d never volunteered. She knew it had something to do with construction. “Not much to see, but sure.” Ray glanced at Roscoe. “You go on ahead,” Roscoe said. “I gotta call the lumberyard and that plumber that never showed up today.” Ray set Fletcher on his feet but held his hand. “Be careful in here. There might be nails and stuff.” There was wood and a lot of sawdust. Workbenches, sawhorses and saws and a bunch of tools Hayley couldn’t identify. Various pieces were under construction. Cabinets, mostly. “You build cabinets?” she asked. “Yeah, a lot of custom stuff. Some kitchen, but mostly entertainment centers, built-ins, wine racks. Furniture. Roscoe does a lot of home improvement and remodeling. People looking to upgrade. While I’m getting things going here
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again, I also help him install wood floors, wainscoting, crown molding. Basically whatever he needs on a job.” He opened a door at the far end, and they stepped into an area that was significantly cooler than the rest of the open-air shop. The faint scent of varnish hovered in the air. “These are the pieces that are almost done or are ready for delivery. Can’t keep them where the humidity will get to them.” At the other end of the space was another overhead door where the finished pieces could be easily loaded for delivery. Hayley walked around to look at a beautifully carved china hutch with beveled glass doors and a wine rack below. She turned to stare at Ray. “The table and chairs in your house. The entertainment center. You made them.” “Yeah.” “Wow. You do beautiful work.” “Thanks.” She followed Ray back out. Roscoe was pacing outside the overhead door, animatedly conversing with whoever was on the other end of his cell phone. “Thanks for the tour,” Hayley said to Ray. “We should probably get going.” As Hayley was about to set off, Callie Maxwell rounded the corner of the duplex. “Great,” she muttered under her breath. “What now?” The woman had been there a few days ago. Hayley hadn’t realized the case worker would be such a diligently frequent visitor. She had no idea what Callie’s opinion of her was, but she had to wonder if the woman was trying to catch her off-guard. Callie stepped carefully through the grass and across the graveled alley in her low heels. She wore a short-sleeved dress that emphasized her bounteous
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curves, but she was perspiring profusely due to the late afternoon heat and the effort of walking the short distance. “Ms. Christopher,” she said by way of greeting Hayley. She nodded in her direction. “Mr. Braddock.” She bent forward and smiled at Fletcher, who still clung to Ray’s hand. “Hi, Fletcher. How are you today?” Fletcher stared at her. “Whew.” She wiped a wrist across her forehead. “It surely is hot out here.” Roscoe flipped his cell phone shut, and Callie immediately turned her attention to him. Hayley couldn’t miss their undisguised interest in each other. She had the thought that she could see radar antennae rising out of both their heads. “Hello,” he said to her. “Roscoe Lee Washington.” He stuck out his hand and Callie took it. “Callie Maxwell.” Hayley glanced at Ray to see if he’d noticed how long this handshake was taking. He winked at her. “Must be my lucky day,” Roscoe said when he finally relinquished Callie’s hand. “Meeting two such pretty ladies.” He hadn’t taken his gaze off Callie. When several seconds passed and no one moved or said anything, Hayley cleared her throat. She wanted to get out of the heat, although Callie seemed to have adjusted to it rather quickly after meeting Roscoe. Hayley’s plans included a shower and a change of clothes. She’d make something to eat and have Fletcher tucked into bed in a few hours so she could have her quiet time. Callie finally turned her attention back to Hayley. “I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I’d drop off that class schedule I told you about.”
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She rummaged in the soft-sided portfolio bag she had slung over her shoulder and withdrew a sheet of paper which she handed to Hayley. “You can call the number at the bottom to register.” “Okay. Thanks.” Again the conversation halted. Hayley was vaguely aware of Fletcher, his head tilted up, his gaze shifting from one to the other of them. She had a bizarre urge to giggle at Fletcher’s reaction to the adults’ silence. To him it must seem as if all they did was talk. Callie and Hayley spoke at the same time, making their excuses. “I’ll walk you back to your car,” Roscoe told Callie. The two of them set off, Callie’s full skirt swishing around her hips. Roscoe took her elbow to help her through the spongy grass. “Let’s go, Fletch.” Hayley turned and took several steps before she realized Fletcher had not obeyed. She turned around to see Fletcher looking up at Ray. Ray looked torn. He glanced in Hayley’s direction before looking at Fletcher. “Time to go, buddy.” Hayley saw Fletcher’s lower lip begin to protrude. “Come on, Fletcher. Ray has work to do.” “Actually, I’m about done for the day. Maybe Fletch could help me clean up?” Hayley couldn’t decide if agreeing to such an offer meant Fletcher had undermined her parental authority. Authority? her internal judge asked. What authority? In truth, she couldn’t see what difference it made whether Fletcher came home with her this instant or if Ray brought him back in a few minutes. Or was Ray undermining her? It was all too obvious that Fletcher preferred Ray to her. Was Ray helping or hindering? She didn’t know. One thing
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she did know was that it wouldn’t hurt Fletcher to have a positive male influence around. Ray stood waiting for her reply. Even the smallest decisions where Fletcher was concerned often seemed beyond her. She hoped the parenting classes would help, because she was sadly in need of guidance. “Fine.” She turned her back on both of them and walked away, wanting only to be done with making another choice, stop thinking about what was best, stop tormenting herself with this nagging feeling of inadequacy. Back inside, as she crossed the living room, she stopped short, her attention snared by the fact that Callie Maxwell’s car was still parked in front of the duplex. Callie was leaning against the driver’s door engaged in conversation with Roscoe. Hayley imagined once Roscoe was out of his work clothes he’d clean up quite nicely. He and Callie somehow seemed to fit together. Callie wasn’t a small woman, which made her a perfect complement to Roscoe’s husky frame. That’s all she needed. To have her social worker involved with Ray’s friend so she’d have an excuse to be in the area even more often. She saw Callie nod at something Roscoe said before she reached into her portfolio. At the same time, Roscoe reached in his back pocket for his wallet. They exchanged business cards. Callie laughed as she gave Roscoe a coquettish wave, wiggling her fingers daintily, before she got into her car and drove off. Wonderful. Hayley took an extra long shower, trying not to think about Fletcher liking Ray better than he liked her, or Callie Maxwell hooking up with Roscoe Washington or anything else. Running her own life was proving much harder than she’d ever imagined. She’d had it easy for too long, she supposed, tucked into the comfy bed she thought she’d made when she’d married Trey. Compared
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to that time, her life now was more like a flimsy cot that could collapse beneath her if she moved the wrong way. She wrapped a towel around her hair, tucked another around her mostly dry self and opened the bathroom door before she realized she was no longer alone in the house. Ray and Fletcher had walked in, and all three of them halted at the same time. Ray stared across the expanse of the living room, his gaze eating her up. The ripple effect shot through her even though he was at least twenty feet away. She clutched the towel tighter, as if that was going to help her get a grip on her runaway imagination that was sending her all kinds of crazy images involving a shower and Ray and a whole lot of bare skin. She fled to her bedroom, mentally berating herself for her reaction. “No. No. No! No fantasies about Ray. No fantasies about anyone. No fantasies about coed showers or naked males or hot steamy sex,” she muttered to herself while she dressed and combed through her wet hair. Her self-lectures were becoming more frequent, but they weren’t doing her any good. Every time she saw Ray, every good intention she had flew right out the window, and the ripple effect took over. Back in the living room, Ray looked up from the stack of Legos he and Fletcher had spread over the coffee table. “You look, uh, refreshed.” He grinned at her. A quick comeback failed her. Ray stood. “I think I’ll go take a shower myself.” Hayley nodded. “I can’t wait to strip off these clothes.” He tugged his shirt a little away from his body. “Get under the spray. Soap up.” Hayley stared at his chest. “I like it hot and steamy.” Hayley nodded. She licked her lips.
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“Is that how you like it too?” Slowly she brought her gaze up to his. “Huh? What?” “Hot and steamy. Is that how you like it?” She stared at him in non-comprehension. What was he talking about? Hot? Steamy? Sex? With him? Had he propositioned her? And she’d missed it? “Your showers.” Ray chuckled. His eyes twinkled as if he knew exactly where her mind had gone. The same place it had been earlier. In spite of her lecture to herself to terminate her stay in Sex-With-Ray-Braddock-Fantasyland. Whatever power of speech she might have once possessed had deserted her again. Ray ruffled Fletcher’s hair. “I’ll see you later, Fletch.” His gaze zeroed in on her. “And I hope to see more of you later as well.” He left and Hayley started to breathe again. What was he talking about? He was teasing her. Playing with her. Suggestively, outright coming on to her! And she’d stood there and let him do it. Oh God, she was in trouble. Out of control. Scared. Excited. A complete mess.
Ray appeared that evening as she was about to go in. She’d smoked her cigarette and dawdled over her wine, half of her hoping he’d join her and the other half terrified he would. She stood, ready to extinguish the candle, when he opened the screen door. He didn’t say anything but she could feel his gaze on her in the neardarkness. Her heart started to pound, and she tingled like mad inside and out.
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He took the two steps necessary to get close to her, but he still didn’t say anything. Tension filled the air. She could almost see the electricity sparking around and between them. He inched even closer. He cupped her head, his thumbs below her jaw. His fingers slid along that sensitive area right below and behind her ears and into her hair. She made a sound of some sort due to protest or fear or excitement. She wasn’t sure which. She felt like she was being torn in half, terror and anticipation battling it out inside of her. He kissed her. God knew a part of her had hoped he would. Yet somehow, the moment his lips touched hers, she had the sense of being outside herself looking down at the two of them. She could sense Ray holding back. He wasn’t going all crazy on her. He nibbled and caressed as if looking for a way in, if only she’d let him. She couldn’t relax. She wanted to. She wanted to give in to everything she was feeling, everything he was making her feel, could make her feel. She had a crazy flashback, right in the middle of Ray’s kiss, of Trey kissing her for the first time. She’d already been head-over-heels for him. That first kiss was the culmination of the delicious crush she’d had on him from the moment she’d met him. She’d let herself be out of control with him, without giving it a lot of thought. If she followed her gut instinct, she didn’t see how she could go wrong. But she had. They had. It had all gone horribly awry between them. And what if, oh God, what if she gave in to Ray and the same thing happened all over again? Everything she’d once felt for Trey, the love and admiration and joy she’d taken in their relationship had turned to disgust and contempt and disappointment.
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She sighed, wishing she could turn her brain off for a while, a good long while, long enough to enjoy kissing Ray more than she was. He pressed closer and oh God, it felt good to be this close to him, to feel the evidence of his interest in her. The sigh had parted her lips, and Ray took that as an invitation. Deepening the kiss got her to pay attention. Her mind shut down, and she was there, right there, in the moment with him. Her back pressed against the door, and she was sandwiched between it and the hard length of Ray’s body. He’d slid his arms around her, and one hand clutched her bottom, holding her close to him. His lips traveled along her jaw to her ear, down along her throat to the vee of her tee-shirt. Her temperature shot sky high. Heat rose off him in waves. When the edge of his hand brushed against the side of her breast, she stiffened. Ray was no dummy. He knew exactly when the tide turned. He braced his hands on the door above her shoulders, his face inches from hers. She didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to face him or confess her fears, but she made herself do it anyway. “I’m not—I can’t.” How exactly to explain to him the jumble of feelings she could barely analyze for herself? “I figured.” “Figured what?” “That you weren’t quite ready.” Hayley crossed her arms over her chest. Ray always seemed to be one step ahead of her, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. “And you thought, what? You’d come over and see if you could seduce me anyway?” He grinned at her. “Hey, I’m a guy.” “Yeah,” she agreed. “You are a guy.”
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He tugged her arms away from her chest, and she let him. He held her hands and moved in close again, loosely pinning her wrists against the door behind her, linking his fingers with hers. “I just figured,” he said as he brushed his lips against hers, “I could start warming you up.” He kissed her again, gently. “For when you are ready.” “What if I’m never ready?” she mumbled between kisses. “Then I’ll wait.” “How long?” “Long as it takes.” “What if it takes forever?” “It won’t.” “But what if it does?” “Then I’ll wait forever.” Hayley smiled against his lips. “You will? Why?” She knew he wasn’t serious, but she found his declaration oddly reassuring. “Because that’s the kind of guy I am,” he whispered. “What kind of guy is that? A forever kind of guy?” “Mmm.”
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Chapter Nine
“I’m in love.” Ray sent Roscoe a skeptical glance. “One date and you’re in love?” They were hanging drywall in one of Roscoe’s remodels, and Ray wasn’t exactly enjoying it. Hanging drywall sucked as far as he was concerned. But while he was slowly rebuilding his business, he did whatever Roscoe needed help doing. Today it happened to be hanging drywall in a room addition. Roscoe finished nailing the piece in place and gave Ray a superior look. “Least I been on a date with Callie. Didn’t even take that for you to fall for Hayley.” “Who says I fell for her?” Ray asked. “I never said that.” “Didn’t have to,” Roscoe informed him good-naturedly. “You gone on her. Nothin’ wrong with admitting it.” “Who died and made you such an expert anyway?” Ray returned. He loved Roscoe like a brother, but Roscoe’s habit of playing amateur psychologist sometimes wore thin. He got ideas stuck in his head about relationships and motivations, and he’d yack about them for days. “Don’t have to be no expert. I got eyes in my head. I seen the way you look at her. She’s the one.” “The one what?” Ray asked irritably, immediately wishing he hadn’t, for it would only invite further analysis from Roscoe.” “The. One.”
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“Yeah. Okay. Whatever. Are you saying after one date with Callie you’ve determined she’s the one for you?” “That’s what I’m saying.” Roscoe grunted as they maneuvered another slab of drywall into place. “And you know this how?” What the hell, Ray thought. They had all afternoon. Might as well let Roscoe babble about his love life. Hopefully, he’d keep his focus on that and forget about Ray’s. “Just know it. Probably didn’t have to go on the date. Think I was sunk the minute I met her.” “Love at first sight? Yeah. That happens all the time.” Roscoe eyed Ray meaningfully. “You saying it don’t? You going to tell me you didn’t feel something first time you laid eyes on Hayley?” Wisely, Ray kept his mouth shut on that subject. He knew how to handle Roscoe. If he didn’t reply, Roscoe would revert to the previous topic. “Look it. Callie’s a social worker. Right up my alley. She loves all that psychology shit I been into for ages. ’Cept she’s got the degree. I could talk to her non-stop. Plus, she’s got, uh, that is, there’s chemistry there. Physical chemistry, I mean,” he elaborated, sending Ray another meaningful look. “Yeah, I got that.” Another of Roscoe’s habits was over-explaining pretty much everything. “She’s never been married. No baggage there.” “And what does she think about your baggage? Or have you told her about that yet?” Roscoe had a thirteen-year-old daughter, the result of a youthful indiscretion followed by a brief marriage to the girl’s mother. Jasmine was the apple of her father’s eye, a sweet girl with a mind of her own. If she didn’t like Callie, Roscoe could pretty much kiss his soul mate goodbye.
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“Yep. Told her right up front. She’s got some kind of female problem. Doctors told her she can’t have kids. She don’t have a problem with me having one.” “Yeah, well, but they haven’t met each other.” Roscoe sighed. He’d finished nailing the drywall in place and paused to wipe the sweat off his forehead with a bright red bandana he kept stuffed in the back pocket of his overalls. “Let’s take a break.” He jerked his head toward the truck parked outside. Ray followed him. They popped the tops on sodas kept icy cold in a cooler. “Tell you the truth, I’m a little worried about that,” Roscoe admitted. “What? Introducing Callie to Jasmine?” Roscoe nodded. “I don’t know what’s come over Jas lately. Seems like I can’t do nothin’ right anymore where she’s concerned.” “Maybe it’s the age,” Ray suggested, although in truth, he knew next to nothing about the behavior patterns of thirteen-year-old girls. “Maybe. She don’t want to do anything we used to do. Fishing? All of a sudden baiting a hook is beneath her. A movie? Unless it’s R-rated, it’s for babies. She don’t even like playing Jungle Golf anymore. She used to beg me to take her.” Roscoe’s woebegone expression told Ray he wouldn’t be able to tease him out of his funk. Roscoe was looking for sympathetic understanding. “Well, she’s not a little kid anymore. She’s a teenager. What do teenage girls like?” Roscoe looked even sadder, if that was possible. “Teenage boys. Text messaging. Hanging out at the mall. Shopping. Especially shopping.” Ray bit his lip, trying not to burst into laughter while he imagined Roscoe the Giant trailing his daughter through the mall, patiently waiting outside the dressing rooms of every teen clothing store there.
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“And I ain’t too crazy about some of her fashion choices. They all show too much skin, and when I tell her so, she gets mad. And if I don’t buy what she likes, I get the silent treatment, same like her mother gives me when she don’t get her way. “Come on, man. Jasmine’s growing up, is all. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t need her dad. Or that she doesn’t love you.” “Huh. Sure seems that way sometimes.” “If I recall correctly, teenagers are pretty self-centered. She’ll grow out of it. Kids her age have lots of hormones zinging around, don’t they? Makes them moody. Especially girls.” Roscoe drained the last of his soda and crushed the can in his fist. “You ain’t exactly helping,” he informed Ray without rancor. They dropped the cans into a garbage bag Roscoe kept in the truck and headed back inside. “Don’t you have some book you can read about how to deal with your teenage daughter?” “Read ’em all. Done everything they suggest. It ain’t helping.” They took opposite ends of the next piece of drywall and maneuvered it into place. “Maybe you’ve been reading too much. Maybe you ought to forget the psychology and go with your gut.” “That’s the problem. My gut’s telling me I’m in love with Callie, and that my daughter ain’t gonna like it one bit.” “Maybe you should talk to Callie about it. She deals with stepkids and blended families in her work. Maybe she can tell you the best way to approach Jasmine.”
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Roscoe efficiently attached the drywall to the studs and fixed Ray with a look. “Funny thing about all them psychology books and degrees. Sometimes none of it works in real life.”
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Chapter Ten
Hayley’s mailbox was normally a receptacle for nothing other than junk mail and bills, but today there was an unusual envelope on top of everything else. It bore no postmark and was addressed in childish, block letters to Fletcher. Hayley bit her lip as she examined it. Fletcher had no friends, none his own age and certainly none who had learned to write. She glanced Fletcher’s way as she deposited the mail on the counter. He had created a racetrack on top of the coffee table and was busy organizing his Matchbox cars for a rally. She slid her finger under the flap of the envelope and withdrew a card with a picture of a clown on it. Inside, still in the same childish letters, was an invitation to Molly Braddock’s birthday party. Hayley breathed a sigh of relief. When had she begun to expect the worst, she wondered? When had something that looked innocent and harmless begun to arouse suspicion and dread? She needed to work on her attitude. The whole world wasn’t against her. The party was scheduled for the following Saturday afternoon. Molly expected an RSVP. Hayley supposed she’d expect a gift as well. Maybe she could give Molly a slightly used Dr. Seuss book. If she gave away Green Eggs and Ham or The Cat in the Hat she’d never have to read them again. Scowling at her selfish thoughts, she opened the refrigerator, dreading once again the nightly challenge of preparing a semi-nutritious meal for Fletcher. In her former life, she’d rarely worried about meal preparation. Their everefficient housekeeper, Miriam, kept the refrigerator stocked at all times. Plus, she
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and Trey ate out often or ordered take-out from a variety of local restaurants. There always seemed to be a get-together at one or the other of the team members’ homes. She and Trey had hosted their own lavishly catered events. Food somehow appeared before her, and she picked and chose at whatever was offered, washing it down with healthy doses of wine. But divorce, custody of a young child, and living paycheck to paycheck forced a change in lifestyle. Hayley couldn’t ignore Fletcher’s needs because she wasn’t hungry or didn’t feel like preparing something. She couldn’t drink too much, because that would constitute neglect. She had to put someone else’s best interests before her own, and she’d never realized how difficult it could be. Left to her own devices, she’d probably spend the evening smoking too many cigarettes and drowning her sorrows in cheap wine. She’d turn into her mother, a lush and a loser, two things she swore she’d never be. She should thank God for Fletcher. Without him, she might have spiraled downward with no thought to saving herself, for she’d have had no reason. Even if she ended up in L.A. with Paige and Lonny and a decent job, she wondered if it would be enough. Paige and Lonny had each other. They wouldn’t want to spend every evening with her. And who would she have? She imagined herself competing with the youth and glamour of the Hollywood set. Even if she found herself ready for a new relationship, finding an age-appropriate, heterosexual, reasonably attractive male without too much baggage of his own could prove a daunting task. Especially in such a competitive environment. As difficult as it was sometimes forcing herself to be responsible for Fletcher, even temporarily, it was also what saved her from despair. Fletcher dropped two of his metal cars on the table and ran to the sidelight next to the door. Pulling aside the curtain, he peered out then glanced over his shoulder at Hayley.
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She closed the refrigerator and nodded. “Yes, you can go out and see Ray. But only for a minute. I’m making dinner.” Fletcher barely waited for her to finish her sentence. He tugged the door open and was out like a shot, banging it behind him. He’d become eerily tuned to Ray’s movements, seeming to know when Ray was home, when he was away, and when he was nearby but technically unavailable, working in the shop behind the duplex. Fletcher knew Ray’s vehicle and sensed the moment it turned into the driveway. Ray had asked for and obtained her permission to have Fletcher come over for a little while each day, usually when Ray arrived back to his half of the duplex in the late afternoon. He’d bring Fletcher home after they shared a snack and watched cartoons or sports. Hayley had decided to make breakfast, which was one of Fletcher’s favorite things to have for dinner. Scrambled eggs and toast and fruit. It was easy and nutritious, Fletcher liked it, and more often than not she could rescue the eggs and toast before they burned. She had the eggs cracked and beaten, a skillet on the stove and bread in the toaster when the door opened and Ray appeared with Fletcher on his shoulders. Fletcher was hanging onto Ray’s hair for dear life, but he looked happy. Or as happy as he ever looked. Ray ducked down to make sure Fletcher cleared the door with room to spare, then swung him down and set him on his feet. Hayley had a hard time containing her own reaction to Ray. The ripple ran through her, and she was afraid she was grinning at him stupidly as he approached the counter. She had to remind herself to breathe. She greeted him with a throaty “Hi” that had nothing to do with trying to flirt with him and everything to do with having trouble getting the word out.
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“Hi yourself. What have you been up to?” “Oh, nothing much.” She gestured in the general vicinity of the kitchen counter. “The usual.” “Got an invitation to Molly’s birthday, I see.” “Oh yes.” Of course Ray would be invited to his niece’s party. “It was sweet of her to think of Fletcher.” “You’re going, aren’t you?” “Probably. I haven’t given it much thought.” “You can ride with me,” Ray told her. “We can leave whenever you want.” Hayley raised an eyebrow. “Planning on using me as an excuse to duck out early?” Ray had the grace to look uncomfortable. “Hey, don’t get me wrong. I’m crazy about Molly.” “But?” “But nothing.” “Mm-hmm.” Hayley recalled the evening Ray had returned from dinner with his brother and his wife. What had he said then? That it was sometimes hard to be around people who were happy. Something like that. The truth was she’d feel much more comfortable going to Molly’s party with someone she knew. The only person she knew, in fact, other than Molly herself. “I’d be happy to ride with you. I’ll make you a deal. You leave whenever I want to and I’ll leave whenever you want. Whichever comes first.” Ray grinned and offered his hand. They shook. “Deal.”
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But even after they shook hands, he held onto hers. Hayley let him, liking the pressure of his callused palm against hers, her smaller hand disappearing inside his masculine one. “Want to stay for eggs and toast?” Ray peered over her shoulder. “That all you got?” Hayley tugged her hand away from his, feeling defensive. “It’s something Fletcher likes.” She opened the refrigerator again to retrieve the eggs and butter. Ray was right behind her, preventing her from closing it. “Come on. You’ve got lots more stuff in here.” He began rummaging through the drawers and shelves, helping himself to various items. “Ham. Cheese. Celery. Onion. You got any green pepper?” “No.” Hayley set her items on the counter and stood back watching him, her lower lip in danger of protruding like Fletcher’s sometimes did. Oblivious, Ray continued to raid her refrigerator, stacking items in one arm as he went. “No problem. You’ve got a tomato. And mushrooms.” He backed out, his arms full, and closed the door. It was only when he turned and saw Hayley’s expression that he managed to look chagrined. “Uh oh. I’m taking over again, aren’t I? Want me to leave?” Hayley glanced away, looking out the sliding door to the backyard, trying to formulate an answer, trying to analyze what she was feeling. Her sense of inadequacy bubbled to the surface. Tears swam in her eyes, frustrating her. “Sometimes I feel like nothing I ever do is good enough.” She couldn’t look at Ray. He set everything on the counter and came toward her. Before she could move or block him, he’d wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in his
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warmth. One hand moved up, burying itself in her hair, pressing her head to his chest. She didn’t fight him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made you feel that way.” She shook her head. “It isn’t you.” “You said eggs and I thought omelet. I make a hell of an omelet.” Hayley smiled against the softness of his shirt. She breathed in the scent of him, trying to identify what he smelled like. Like a hardworking guy, she supposed, who spent a lot of time around freshly cut wood. Then there was an underlying essence of something else, something summery that reminded her of recently mowed grass. “Liar. You were thinking, ‘If I make the omelet, I won’t have to eat Hayley’s burnt eggs’.” “Okay. That too.” She heard the smile in his voice. Everything was okay. For the moment. They broke apart. “I don’t suppose you’re going to trust me with the toast, either.” He pretended to consider this. “That depends.” He glanced at the ceiling. “On what?” Hayley followed his gaze. “Have you checked the batteries in that smoke alarm since you moved in?” She balled her fist and socked him in the arm. “Isn’t that the landlord’s responsibility?” A half hour later, the three of them sat down to a meal of omelets, toast and fruit. “I have no idea what to get Molly,” Hayley said. “I barely know her.” “She’s a pretty down-to-earth kid. She won’t expect much.”
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Hayley didn’t believe that, but she let it slide. “I have to bring some kind of gift.” Ray swallowed a bite of toast. “You don’t have to buy her anything. I’m not.” “You’re not getting her anything?” “I’m taking her fishing.” “Fishing? That’s her gift? An eight-year-old girl?” “She loves it. Plus, she loves spending quality time with her favorite uncle.” “You’ve done this before, then?” “Twice. When she turned five and six.” “What about seven?” Ray concentrated on slicing off another bite of omelet and sliding it onto his fork. “I missed her seventh birthday.” “Oh.” Sensing his discomfort, Hayley concentrated on her own food. Ray’s omelet was delicious. He’d carefully left out everything Fletcher disliked in one section. The boy happily devoured only eggs, cheese and ham. After a bit, Ray said, “You can give her something but you don’t have to buy her anything.” “What are you suggesting I give her? Cooking lessons?” Ray chuckled. “I think her stepmother’s got that covered. There must be something else you’re good at.” “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m an aging cheerleader and a college dropout. My talents are pretty limited.” Ray snapped his fingers. “That’s it.” “What’s it?” “Cheerleading.”
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Hayley stared at him. “Give her a gift certificate for a private cheerleading class. For her and a few of her friends. Won’t cost you a dime and she’ll love it.” “You think?” “She’s a girl. Little girls are into stuff like that, aren’t they?” Hayley considered the idea. “I could show them how to make pompoms out of tissue paper.” “Perfect!” “If you’re sure…” Ray lifted his glass of orange juice toward her as if toasting the idea. “I’m sure.”
Even with Ray’s stamp of approval on the cheerleading class gift idea, Hayley was nervous about attending the party. Although Fletcher was strapped into the back seat of Ray’s SUV, it had the feel of a date. She hadn’t imagined Ray’s sweeping gaze of approval when she’d opened the door to him earlier. She was dressed casually in a short cotton skirt, sleeveless top and sandals. It promised to be another hot, sultry day in northern Florida, so she’d swept her hair up in a clip and kept makeup to a minimum. Ray’s gaze told her everything she needed to know. She looked good. In minutes, Ray parked on the street near a small bungalow, and they approached the door. Molly herself answered their knock. She launched herself at Ray. He hugged her and gave her a loud smacking kiss on the cheek, which made her giggle with delight. “Hi, Hayley. Hi, Fletcher.” In seconds they were surrounded by other people. A rather large brown dog inserted himself into the mix, tail wagging, tongue lolling, his entire body
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wiggling with excitement. He gravitated toward Fletcher, sniffing him and swiping his tongue along Fletcher’s arm. Fletcher responded by stroking the dog’s back, clearly delighted by the dog’s interest in him. “Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?” A woman, who was apparently Ray’s mother, enveloped him in a hug that lasted long enough for Ray’s twin to introduce not only himself, but his father as well. Hayley shook hands with both of them and introduced Fletcher. Rick was a slightly shorter, sturdier version of his brother, exactly as Hayley remembered. And the resemblance to their father, Ken, was clearly evident, although his dark hair had a few gray highlights. A curvy brunette appeared, drying her hands on a dish towel. “There you are,” Rick said, sliding an arm around her waist. “This is Hayley Christopher and Fletcher. My wife, Kaylee.” Kaylee shook Hayley’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” She bent forward to put herself on eye level with Fletcher, who was still cozied up to the dog. “Hi there, Fletcher. I’m Kaylee. I’m glad you could come.” She rubbed a hand along the top of the dog’s head. “I see you’ve made friends with Brutus.” Fletcher eyed her silently. She straightened. The dog nuzzled closer to Fletcher and sniffed his neck. Fletcher’s eyes widened, but he didn’t shy away. Molly took Fletcher’s hand. “Come on, Fletcher. We’ve got a Slip ’N Slide out back. Come on, Brutus.” The dog bounded along after them, nails tap-tapping on the terrazzo floor. Ray’s mother finally let go of him, and Ray introduced her to Hayley. Hayley couldn’t help but notice Lena Braddock was a bit teary-eyed. Once Ray’s father had a chance to greet him as well, they all congregated around the table on the lanai where they could watch the children play in the backyard.
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“I didn’t expect you guys to be here,” Ray said, including both his parents in the statement. Meanwhile, he gave a Rick a reproachful glance. Rick spread his hand in an I-had-nothing-to-do-with-this gesture. “Hey, I was as surprised as you are. They showed up without warning an hour ago.” “We came to surprise Molly,” Ken informed them. “Surprising you two was an added bonus.” He winked at Lena. “How long are you staying?” Ray asked. “Only for the weekend,” Lena told him. “We were thinking maybe we could do a cookout or something tomorrow.” “Sure,” he agreed. “Can I get anyone something to drink?” Kaylee asked. She hadn’t taken a seat and neither had Rick. The doorbell chimed from inside. “I’ll get that,” Rick informed the group. Kaylee went inside to get refreshments. “I’ll help you,” Hayley offered, only too glad to escape the surreptitious gazes of Ray’s parents. Inside, another couple had arrived with their daughter, Hannah, who looked to be Molly’s age. Right behind them came Roscoe and a teenage girl. Introductions were made. The couple moved onto the lanai, and the two girls dashed outside to join Molly and Fletcher. Although Roscoe’s daughter, Jasmine, was the oldest child at the party, she seemed as excited as the others. “So,” Hayley ventured, as she helped Kaylee pour drinks, “a surprise visit from the in-laws, huh?” Kaylee grinned. “More like a shock. I’ve only met them once—at our wedding. But we talk on the phone fairly often. They moved to Tucson a while back, but they’re meeting some friends in Key West for a fishing trip next week. They’re nice people.” “I thought Ray’s mom was never going to let go of him.”
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“Well.” Kaylee hesitated. “They worry about him. Plus, they haven’t seen him in like a year, I think.” She lowered her voice. “I don’t know if you know this, but his wife passed away a couple of years ago.” Hayley nodded. “He went through a pretty rough patch there for a while from what I gather, but he seems to be doing okay now, if you ask me. Of course, I only met him a few weeks ago.” “Me too.” Before Hayley could ask anything else, Kaylee picked up her tray. Hayley followed with a second tray laden with drinks and a bowl of chips and dip. This is how it’s supposed to be, Hayley thought wistfully an hour later. Family. She’d had plenty of time to observe the Braddock clan. Rick and Ray seemed to read each other’s minds half the time, exchanging glances when comments about some of their previous escapades were made by one or the other of their parents. Lena and Ken Braddock operated as a unit. After thirty-five years together, Hayley was pretty sure they were reading each other’s minds as well. Kaylee had integrated herself into the unit, her connection to Rick so strong it was almost visible to the naked eye. Again Hayley had the feeling of being encased in a plastic bubble, separated from the close knit group, remembering her own pathetic family life, such as it was. A mother more interested in a good time, mired down in alcoholism and substance abuse. An unknown and absentee father. Her grandmother and aunt, who picked up as much of the slack as possible in raising her. The first time Hayley had ever felt as if she might be part of a real family was when Trey took her home for Christmas to meet his parents. The senior
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Christophers adored their son, and if Hayley made him happy, they could make room for her in their lives as well. Though an only child, Trey had lots of aunts and uncles and cousins, and they all gathered under one roof for the holidays. That had been the best, most memorable Christmas of her life, for Trey had given her an engagement ring in front of everyone. She’d been so damn happy. Even now, with so much water under the bridge, she still wondered what had happened. Why couldn’t she have made it last? Where had she gone wrong? She escaped to the bathroom, hoping to distract herself from her dismal thoughts. Ridiculous, she thought. Maybe she couldn’t be like everyone else. Not like Trey’s parents, or Ray’s, still blissfully wed after so many years. So what? She’d survive. The heat and humidity were doing a number on her hair and makeup. She pressed some powder to her nose and re-clipped her hair. She was digging in her purse for her lip gloss when she heard voices near the door, maybe coming from the bedroom at the end of the hall a few feet away. “Who is this woman, that’s all I want to know.” It was a woman’s voice. Lena Braddock. “Mom, I told you, she rents the other half of the duplex from him. I met her today for the first time.” That had to be Rick. “And he hasn’t said anything to you about her before now?” “Not really. I’ve only seen him a couple of times since he got back.” “Your father says this Hayley was married to some football player who had a drug problem.” “Yeah. He used to play for the Jacks.” “And that little boy is theirs? He doesn’t look anything like her.” “No, he’s not hers. From what Ray told me, she got temporary custody of him when her sister died.”
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“Well, Ray certainly seems to be attached to him. I’m not sure it’s good for him. How does he seem to you?” “He’s fine, Mom. He says he’s better than he was when he left. He’ll be okay. Stop worrying.” “I never stop worrying. About either one of you, you know. But you, at least, I can see you’re happy.” “I am.” Their footsteps passed the door, and Hayley realized she’d been holding her breath. She let it out and stared at herself in the mirror.
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Chapter Eleven
An hour later, Ray approached Hayley from behind. Leaning close to her ear he whispered, “Are you ready to leave?” She shivered as his warm breath tickled her. “God yes,” she whispered back. She turned to look up at him and couldn’t help but smile at the thought that they’d both had enough at exactly the same time. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ray’s mother watching their exchange. “Think you’ll be able to pull Fletcher away?” Ray asked. Several other children around Molly’s age and a few more adults had arrived. After a break for food, cake and gifts, the kids were back outside having round two on the Slip ’N Slide. Rick and Kaylee’s backyard was a sodden field of well-trodden and muddy grass. Fletcher took another turn on the expanse of wet plastic, running and sliding on his knees. Brutus bounded along next to him in the wet grass then followed him back to the end of the line. Fletcher petted his new pal while he waited his turn. From the screened lanai Hayley called to him. “Hey, Fletch, I think it’s about time to go home.” Fletcher paused and looked over Hayley’s shoulder to Ray as if for confirmation of her suggestion. “I’ll help you find your towel, okay, buddy?” Ray opened the door and walked out, effectively taking the decision out of Fletcher’s hands. Hayley picked
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up her empty soda cup and their cake plates and went into the kitchen, feeling Lena Braddock’s curious gaze on her the entire time. Luckily, Fletcher never outright defied her requests. Obviously he never argued. But there were times when he pouted as his way of showing her he didn’t want to cooperate. He would fold his arms across his chest, and his bottom lip would protrude. His normally placid expression would turn into a scowl. She’d never seen him do that when Ray was around, though. Kaylee was in the kitchen with Tara Reichard, the mother of Molly’s friend, Hannah. Both greeted her. She deposited the plastic cups and paper plates in the garbage can. “I think we’re going to head home,” she told Kaylee. “Thank you for inviting us. Fletcher had a great time.” To Hannah’s mother she said, “It was nice to meet you.” “Same here,” Tara responded. “I was wondering about the gift certificate you gave Molly for the cheerleading class. How much do you normally charge for those?” Hayley laughed. “I don’t. I’ve never done it before, actually. It was Ray’s idea.” She glanced at Kaylee. “I had no idea what to get Molly.” Kaylee nodded. “It’s the perfect gift. She’ll be the envy of the other girls. They all love stuff like that.” “I hope so.” “Hannah’s birthday is in a couple of months. I was wondering if you’d want to do a class as part of the party. Maybe you could charge per head,” Tara suggested. Hayley was a bit taken aback. “Oh. I hadn’t thought of it.” “Why don’t you give me your phone number,” Tara insisted. “We can talk about it.”
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“O-okay. Sure.” The efficient Tara produced a pad and a pen from a designer handbag. Hayley dutifully wrote down her phone number. “How did you get into cheerleading?” Tara asked when Hayley handed the pad and pen back to her. “Oh, that was my grandmother’s doing. My mother—uh, well, my grandmother took care of me quite a bit when I was younger. She decided I had too much energy, and it needed to be exerted somewhere besides her house. She’s the one who found gymnastics and dance classes and enrolled me. My aunt Glenna was around quite a bit too, and she signed me up for a summer cheerleading camp to get me out of the way.” Hayley shrugged. “I liked it. I was good at it, so I kept doing it all through high school. Money was tight, but they found sponsors or scholarships for me. I got into college on a cheerleading scholarship, believe it or not.” Kaylee had paused in her cleaning up routine. “You know, that could be a good business. Well, a side business anyway, to your work at the Y. Doing some kind of program with dance and cheerleading. People are always looking for new party ideas for their kids.” Hayley didn’t know quite what to say. It had never occurred to her that the skills she’d honed from childhood could translate into a profitable endeavor at her age. “I’ll be happy to talk to you about it, Tara.” To Kaylee she said, “Please give me a call and we’ll set up Molly’s class whenever it’s convenient. I spoke to the director of the Y. We can use one of the rooms there if we do it on a Friday night or a Sunday afternoon.” “Great.” Rick appeared, a stack of unused paper plates and utensils in his hands. Ray was right behind him, holding a towel-bound Fletcher. Rick set the plates
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down on the counter and slid his arms around what was left of Kaylee’s waistline. She was several months pregnant, and Rick seemed to never miss a chance to show his affection for her. Hayley’s gaze collided with Ray’s. He rolled his eyes. She pretended not to notice. Rick’s parents joined them and there were more hugs and goodbyes. Lena Braddock took Hayley’s hands in hers. “It was lovely to meet you, dear.” She moved in close, pressing her cheek to Hayley’s. “Hurt my son and you’ll have to deal with me.” The steel beneath the words belied the sweet tone she used. But she’d said it so softly Hayley knew no one else had heard. Hayley stared at her for a moment after she released her, but Lena gave nothing away. That night, with Fletcher in bed, Hayley lit a new candle and settled into her chair. Her glass of wine was on the table next to her, and she considered her cigarette for a moment before lighting it. Such a stupid, stupid, habit, she told herself for the thousandth time. She lit it and took a long, satisfying drag. Leaning back in her chair, she lifted the wineglass and savored the chilled, light fruitiness. She heard the door open on Ray’s side of the duplex and his footsteps as he crossed the small space between the screened decks. They greeted each other. Hayley didn’t change her relaxed position when he took the other chair and stretched out his long legs. But inside, the ripple effect was going strong. Ray had an open bottle of beer with him. He tipped his head back and took a drink. Hayley smoked her cigarette and sipped her wine in silence. Again she thought how refreshing it was not to have to make small talk with Ray. He allowed her to have her own thoughts and didn’t intrude on them with his all the time. Her cigarette was almost gone before he spoke. “Thanks for going to Molly’s party with me.”
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“They’re a pair, aren’t they? Rick and Kaylee.” Hayley had been thinking about Ray’s brother and his wife off and on earlier in the evening. She had a feeling she understood exactly why being around them bothered Ray. Ray didn’t pretend he didn’t know what she meant. “They sure are.” He took another swig of beer. “It’s pretty hard to watch them without being a little bit envious, don’t you think?” “Yep.” “They’re crazy about each other.” “Oh yeah.” “They don’t try to hide it. It’s who they are.” “Seems to be.” “If they weren’t such nice people, I could really learn to hate them.” Ray chuckled and drank some more beer. “As it is,” he said, “you watch them and marvel that any two people could be that much in love. And on some level you wish you could find someone who felt like that about you, right?” “There is a certain degree of envy, yes,” Hayley agreed. “Maybe that’s what makes us uncomfortable.” Ray eyed her in the dim glow of the candle. “You think it’s only us?” “I don’t know. Maybe I’m hyper-sensitive to it. I thought I had that once. But, as it turns out, I was fooling myself.” “Maybe you’ll find it again.” “Ha. I doubt it.” Hayley warned herself to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “I think I’m too afraid to try again.” Even with you. “Well, it’s Rick’s second time around. So why not you?” “Or you.”
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Ray shrugged. “Yeah. Or me.” He drank some more beer. “Rick’s first wife—ooh, nothing like Kaylee. She convinced Rick to move to Atlanta. Got herself some high-powered job. Within a couple of years, she dumped Rick, married his boss and gave him full custody of Molly.” “Wow. So he moved back here?” “Yep. My uncle used to own that garage that belongs to Rick now. Rick was shell-shocked for the first few years. But I guess Kaylee came along and changed all that.” “How’d they meet?” Again Rick shrugged. “I don’t know the whole story. I was out of town at the time. And out of touch. I missed their wedding.” “Oh.” Hayley sipped at the last of her wine. She didn’t want to pry, but frankly, she wanted desperately to know what had happened to Ray’s wife. Why had he left town? As if he’d read her mind, he spoke again. “Caroline died shortly before that. I was pretty messed up. One day I closed up the shop, locked the door and started driving. I was gone for almost two years.” “Did it help?” Ray considered his beer bottle. He picked at the label with his thumb nail. “Hard to say. I like to think I’m slightly less messed up than I was when I left. I’m coping, let’s put it that way. I get up, I work. I eat. I try to sleep. Try to act like a normal person. Which is more than I was doing after she died.” “I’m sorry.” Hayley didn’t know what else to say. She knew something of how he felt. “Trying to run away from life doesn’t solve anything. I learned that much. Your past, your problems, whatever it is, you have to face it and deal with it and move on. Get past it and get on with your life.”
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Is that what he thinks I’m doing? Hayley wondered. Trying to run away from my life? Escape from my past? “She lied to me,” Ray said abruptly. He’d managed to peel a strip down the center of the bottle label, and he concentrated furiously on repeating the effort. Hayley was afraid to say anything. She watched Ray, sensed his tension, the anger he held at bay over whatever his deceased wife had done. “It’s pretty stupid and I didn’t handle it very well,” he admitted. He glanced at Hayley then back at the bottle. “We had a plan back then. We bought this place so we could live in one side and rent out the other. I had my shop in the back. We were going to work and save our money. We found a nice piece of land outside of town where we’d eventually build our dream house, and we’d have a big yard for a dog and our kids to run around in. The five-year plan,” he said, his tone turning to one of disgust. “She got pregnant,” he said flatly. “Oh.” “Way ahead of schedule. On purpose. Stopped using birth control without telling me. Thought I’d be thrilled with the news she was pregnant. And I sort of was, until I found out she’d planned it. She didn’t want to wait. We’d talked about it a bunch of times, and she knew I wanted to stick with the plan. But what I wanted didn’t matter. In retrospect, I can see she might have felt the same way. That what she wanted didn’t matter to me.” Hayley recognized the bitterness in Ray’s tone and the hurt behind it. She’d heard it often enough coming out of her own mouth. “Actually, you both wanted the same thing. Just at different times.”
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“Yes. You’re right. Anyway, I wasn’t terribly gracious about it. Not because I didn’t want kids, but because I felt like she went behind my back. She didn’t include me. Didn’t tell me she was off the pill. Didn’t give me a choice.” “She used you,” Hayley put in. Ray’s head jerked up and he stared at her for a moment. “Funny how you get that. No one else did. But that’s what it felt like.” He went back to contemplating what was left of the beer bottle label. “She didn’t get that she’d done anything terrible. Even though she waited until she was three months along to tell me, she didn’t get why I felt like I couldn’t trust her. She said pregnancy was a natural result of two people getting married and having sex, and the timing shouldn’t matter if they loved each other. She was ready. It shouldn’t matter if I was or not. I’d get used to the idea. “She was sort of right about that. After a couple of months of being pissed off about it, I did resign myself to the fact that I was going to be a dad way before I expected to. I figured I’d deal with it when it happened, you know?” He glanced up at Hayley and she nodded. “I mean, I’d married her for better or worse. I wasn’t going to walk away from her because I didn’t get my way.” Hayley bit her lip, trying to imagine what Ray had gone through to get to that point. His wife had hurt him, trampled on his trust and didn’t understand why he’d be upset by her manipulation. Yet he’d been willing to stick by her anyway. “She was a kindergarten teacher. Man, she loved those little kids. She went to a training seminar in Jacksonville one weekend. Supposed to be back Sunday afternoon. I decided it was about time for me to forgive and forget and stop sulking around. I called her cell and left her a message. Thought we could go to dinner, get things back on track, you know?” Hayley nodded.
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“Except she never made it home.” Ray coughed. He set the beer bottle on the table and leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands clasped, his gaze focused on nothing in particular. “She had something like a heart attack while she was driving. Pregnancy puts a strain on a woman’s heart. A weak aorta, which might go undetected otherwise, becomes even weaker until it can’t handle the strain. That’s what happened to Caroline. She veered off the road. Didn’t crash or anything. Didn’t hurt anyone else. By the time the cops got there, it was too late.” Hayley touched Ray’s arm. “Ray, I’m so sorry.” He glanced at her. “Yeah, well.” He lifted his shoulders and let them fall. “Sucks that I was ready to move past it and stop being pissed about what she’d done, and it was too little too late.” “I guess you’ve been told it wouldn’t have changed anything. If you’d been over the moon about the pregnancy, she probably still would have gone to the meeting. Nothing would have changed.” “Yeah. I heard that a few times from people who knew what was going on. I’ve been told not to blame myself more times than I can count. And I don’t blame myself for her death. I blame myself for not being the man I should have been. Telling myself I wasn’t ready, and it wasn’t what I’d planned. Resenting the responsibility of my child instead of embracing it. Looking forward to it. “After she died, I was pissed at the world, so mad at myself, I couldn’t stand being here one more day. So I left. Bummed around. Stayed with a couple different friends out west. Worked construction when I felt like it. Hung out in one place for a while before I moved on. Even ended up in Alaska for about six months. Which is why I missed Rick and Kaylee’s wedding. Found out you can’t run away from yourself.” “I guess that explains why your mother was hugging you like she’d never let go.”
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Ray ducked his head. “Probably.” “She worries about you. She’s afraid you’ll get hurt again.” “Maybe. She fussed the same way over Rick after his divorce. That’s what moms do, I guess.” Not my mom, Hayley thought. Time to get off the subject of how mothers behaved. “Did it help, do you think? Getting away?” “I don’t know. Gave me some perspective, maybe. There are still days when I get up and want to kick myself. But they’re less often.” “Good.” Hayley smiled at him. She got to her feet and he followed suit. Without letting herself think too much about it, she hugged him. He probably needed a hug every once in a while, and if she didn’t do it, who would? He could have ten women begging to hug him, but she hadn’t seen any coming around. He dwarfed her, and she felt like she was in a cocoon, snuggled up against his warmth, his arms around her, hers encircling his waist. They stood like that for a long time. She felt his lips against her temple. A ripple zapped through her. He brushed a kiss against her hair. He cleared his throat. “I gotta go.” He gave her a little squeeze and released her. “’Bye,” she said to the screen door when it closed behind him. Now she understood why Lena had warned her not to hurt Ray. Ray was not a player, not the kind of guy who loved and left. If he gave a woman his heart, it was for keeps. She went inside and locked the door and turned off the lights on her way to the bathroom. What she and Ray had joked about that night he’d kissed her didn’t seem so funny now. He was a forever kind of guy. And she had no intention of sticking around forever.
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Chapter Twelve
While Hayley unloaded dishes from the dishwasher the following day, she noticed Fletcher staring out the sliding glass door facing the backyard. He’d cupped his hands around his face and inched as far as he could to the left so he could see to his right through the glass. Curious, Hayley moved behind him to see what he was looking at. Ah. The male Braddocks were gathered on the concrete pad behind Ray’s side of the duplex. He’d added a new umbrella table and four chairs to the space. Smoke rose in a gray cloud from the grill and Ray, Rick and Ken were seated around the table having a beer. Hayley couldn’t stop staring at the obvious male camaraderie any more than Fletcher could, apparently. It all looked perfectly normal. Like a picture postcard of small-town life with the caption “Sunday Afternoon Family Cookout”. Rick’s wife appeared and spoke to him. After he answered her, she draped her arms around his neck from behind and kissed him before disappearing inside again. Hayley stepped away. “Fletch, why don’t you come and help me change the sheets on your bed?” she asked. Fletcher didn’t move a muscle. Hayley didn’t feel like dragging him away from the door. He wasn’t hurting anything by watching Ray and his family. She went into his bedroom and pulled the sheets off his bed.
A Forever Kind of Guy
She’d thought again about Lena’s warning yesterday. Not that she had any intention of hurting Ray. She wasn’t even involved with him. They were friends. Nothing more. Except for that interlude the other evening. Which she had no intention of repeating. She envied Ray. What if she’d had a mother like Lena? A protective lioness kind of mother who only wanted what was best for her children? One who wanted to see them happy and made sure they were loved? Even if Ray’s mother was out of line—after all, Ray was an adult and able to take care of himself—Lena made it clear she was still there for him. She didn’t want him to suffer if she could do anything to prevent it. Love made you do stuff like that, Hayley supposed. She made up Fletcher’s twin bed and bundled the dirty sheets along with the towels from the bathroom into a laundry basket. As she crossed the living area, Ray knocked on the sliding door. Molly was at his side. Fletcher stared up at Ray. Hayley crossed to unlock the door and open it. “Hi.” Ray grinned at her. “Hello. Hello, Molly.” “We’re having a cookout,” Molly informed them. “You guys are invited. Come on, Fletcher.” She grabbed Fletcher’s hand and pulled him out the door with her. “Wait. What—” Perplexed, she stared at Ray. She set the laundry basket down as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Evidently her acceptance of the invitation was a foregone conclusion. But she hadn’t been invited in advance, which meant including her and Fletcher was an afterthought. She’d been treated as an afterthought a few too many times not to know what it felt like.
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“Sorry,” Ray said. “We sort of decided to throw this together before Mom and Dad leave tomorrow. Molly’s bored. She asked if Fletcher could come over.” “Oh, well. That’s fine, I guess, if Fletcher stays to keep Molly company.” “You have to come over too, though.” “No, I don’t.” “Yes, you do. Who’s going to save me from exposure to my brother and his lovey-dovey wife?” Hayley chuckled. “Aww, what’s the matter? Can’t take the heat?” “Are you kidding? I probably didn’t even need to fire up the grill. I could cook ribs on the sparks between the two of them.” “Poor baby,” Hayley told him in mock sympathy. “But you don’t want me horning in on your family time.” “You’re not horning in, believe me. We’ve got enough food for a small army.” “Ray, you don’t have to include me just because of Fletcher.” Ray looked taken aback. “Is that what you think?” “Sometimes with you, I don’t know what to think.” “Come on. Be a good neighbor and save me from my family.” “Stop it. Your family’s great.” “Yeah, but they keep looking at me weird. Like they think I’ll fall apart any minute. If my mother asks me one more time how things are going and how I’m doing, I think I’m going to snap. You can distract her.” “Ah, so you’re using me.” “Yes. But, I’m also going to feed you dinner. What do you say? Fair trade?” “I’ll be the fifth wheel.”
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“Nope. I’m the fifth wheel at the moment. You’ll be the sixth wheel that balances everything.” Hayley couldn’t forget Lena Braddock’s parting words of yesterday. Hurt my son and you’ll have to deal with me. Was that her way of warning Hayley to stay away from Ray? If so, Lena would be none too happy to have her in the midst of today’s family gathering. “Did I say ‘please’ yet?” Ray’s inquiry broke into her thoughts. “If not, I’m saying it now. Please come.” “Does your mother know you’re inviting me?” “By now, she probably does. Why? What difference does it make?” Hayley glanced away for a moment, still unsure what to do. Keep her mouth shut about his mother’s warning? Stay home? Accept Ray’s invitation and damn the consequences? Her stomach gurgled. It had probably overheard that ribs were on the menu and a ton of food was available next door. Fletcher was already over there. Ray was offering her a meal she wouldn’t have to plan or cook. What was she waiting for? “I guess it doesn’t make any difference to me,” she decided. “And since you did say please, I’ll come.” “Great!” Ray took her hand and started to open the sliding door. “Hey, wait.” She withdrew her hand from his and looked down at herself. “Do I look okay? Do I need to change?” Ray’s gaze ran over her from the top of her head to her feet. She certainly wasn’t dressed up, since she hadn’t planned to go anywhere. She had on white shorts and a navy blue cotton top covered with tiny white flowers. She hadn’t clipped her hair up or put on much makeup.
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It would have been hard to miss the appreciation in Ray’s eyes. “You look fantastic. You always do.” Hayley smiled. She thought back to her horrendous appearance the day she’d had a migraine. “We both know that isn’t true, but thanks for saying it anyway.” As if he’d read her mind, he amended his earlier statement. “Okay. You’re right. But on an average day, you’re gorgeous.” “Okay, now you’re laying it on a little too thick. Let’s go. I’m starving.” He reached for her hand again, and Hayley thought about pulling it away. They weren’t a couple. It wouldn’t do to let his family start thinking they were. But she left her hand in his. Ken and Rick had vacated the patio during Ray’s absence. The grill no longer smoked, though the lingering scent of barbequed meat hung in the air. Ray opened the slider and let her step in ahead of him. Kaylee and Lena were setting bowls of potato salad and coleslaw on the table, where a massive tray of ribs covered with foil already sat. There were thick slices of garlic bread in a napkin-lined basket along with a macaroni casserole covered with melted cheese as well as an array of condiments. Hayley sniffed appreciatively. Rick and Ken were on the couch watching baseball. Molly and Fletcher were playing Chutes and Ladders on the coffee table. Once the greetings were completed, they sat down to eat. They’d set places for the kids at the coffee table. Fletcher seemed okay with that setup. Rick put in a My Little Pony DVD for them to watch. Ray must have added a leaf to his dining table, because there was plenty of room for the six adults. Food was passed and conversation started, most of which went over Hayley’s head since it was about friends and family she didn’t know. She didn’t
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care, though, because she was too busy enjoying the feast before her and absorbing the warmth of Ray’s family. Trey’s had been the same way. During every visit, the entire Christopher clan convened to share food and conversation. For a little while she let herself pretend it was her family too. As the meal wound down, Ray pushed back a little from the table and casually draped his arm over the back of her chair. Hayley happened to glance Lena’s way at that moment and caught the slight raising of her eyebrows at the gesture. Surreptitiously, she glanced at the others. Rick and Kaylee gave no indication they’d noticed anything out of the ordinary. But a look passed between Lena and Ken. Lena’s head tilted slightly in Ray’s direction as if to silently ask her husband, Did you see that? Hayley thought about taking Lena aside later and telling her she had nothing to worry about. She wasn’t after Ray. They were neighbors. Friends. Maybe a little bit more than friends. But if she went on the defensive, that would probably make Lena even more suspicious of her motives. Probably better not to say anything. When the meal ended, the guys made an effort to help clear the table until Kaylee shooed them away. Molly and Fletcher resumed their game of Chutes and Ladders, while the men sprawled in the living room and put the baseball game back on. There was barely enough room in the small kitchen area for three people, so Hayley concentrated on straightening the table, putting away the unused utensils and shaking crumbs from the placemats. “Hayley, you wouldn’t let me experiment on you, would you?” Kaylee asked as she scraped plates and loaded them into the dishwasher while Lena covered the leftovers and stowed them in the refrigerator. “I’m dying to try out a
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new line of color. If you’d let me do your highlights with it, I’ll throw in a cut for free.” “Wow. That’d be great.” She’d let her hair go longer than usual, simply because getting it done wasn’t in her current hand-to-mouth budget. “I’m usually closed on Mondays, but we could do it tomorrow night, if you want. After you’re off work.” “Oh, uh, hmm. I’ll have Fletcher, though. I don’t have a sitter.” Nor could she afford one. That’s why Fletcher went everywhere with her. “Rick,” Kaylee called over to him. “Do you mind watching Fletcher tomorrow night so I can do Hayley’s hair?” “Fine by me.” “Goodie,” Molly chimed in. “We can play dolls. And I got Mario Party for my birthday,” she informed Fletcher. “We can play it.” Ray said something to Rick, but Hayley didn’t catch it. She was still marveling over the fact that she was going to get her hair done for free, and that Kaylee hadn’t had to stand on her head and repeat her question twice for Rick to respond. “Thanks, Kaylee. Thank you, Rick,” she called to him. He waved her thanks away. “No problem.” Once the kitchen was clean, Kaylee put on a pot of coffee and cut into a pan of brownies. Lena added a scoop of vanilla ice cream to each plate. Hayley groaned. She was decidedly full and doubted she could do the dessert justice. “None for me. I’m too full. Although I know your brownies are delicious.” Lena’s eyebrow went up. “Oh? I thought you two just met yesterday.” “We did.”
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Ray chose that moment to join them. “Kaylee sent some home with me a couple of weeks ago. And I was kind enough to share, Mom, like you taught me.” He winked at his mother. “I see.” Her gaze moved between the two of them, as if trying to figure out the depth of their relationship. “I’m going to wrap some up for you to take home, Hayley,” Kaylee informed her. “And you can share them with Ray if you’d like.” She grinned at Hayley and tilted her head in Lena’s direction, as if she were enjoying her mother-in-law’s confusion.
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Chapter Thirteen
“What happened to you?” Ray greeted Roscoe the following morning outside the convenience store where they often met for coffee before heading out to a job site. “Nailgun to the ’nads?” “Thanks for that,” Roscoe said glumly. His shoulders slumped, and his whole body sagged in defeat. His eyelids were red-rimmed and puffy. “Somebody die?” Ray asked more gently, regretting his earlier teasing. Sometimes he forgot that Roscoe’s massive frame sheltered a sensitive and easily wounded heart. Roscoe scrubbed his hands over his face as if he were trying to wipe away a bad memory. He leaned back against the side of the truck and stared at the toes of his boots. Ray nudged him to hand him the cup of coffee he’d purchased for him since it was his turn to buy. Roscoe took the cup. He fiddled with the pop-up lid, but he didn’t drink any of it. He lifted his head. “Callie, and uh, Jasmine.” He stopped, as if he couldn’t go on. Ray waited, sipping his own coffee until Roscoe was ready. Roscoe cleared his throat and looked away, his gaze taking in the early morning traffic at the pumps and customers hurrying in and out of the store. “She walked in on us,” he finally said, his gaze coming back to Ray. Ray had a mouthful of coffee and he sputtered, managing to land most of it on the ground as opposed to his clothes. “What!” He stared at Roscoe. “Jasmine walked in on you and Callie? In bed?”
A Forever Kind of Guy
Roscoe nodded, looking sadder and more upset, if that were possible. “Oh man. How’d that happen?” Roscoe lifted his shoulders and let them drop. “She has a key. Jasmine. Not Callie. Not yet, anyway. Maybe never.” He sniffed. “We wasn’t actually doing anything. I mean, you know—” “Yeah,” Ray put in, hoping Roscoe wouldn’t launch into too many details. “I hear Jasmine come in, looking for me, calling me, but before I can even move she’s there, opening the bedroom door. And it’s like, obvious, I mean, we’re in bed naked, even though we got the sheet over us before—” “Got it,” Ray put in again, an all-too-clear picture forming in his head. “And Jas, she like, stares at Callie like she hates her.” Roscoe sniffed again. “Turns out, Jas does hate her.” “Oh, come on. Jas is upset because she caught you two—” Roscoe shook her head. “Nope. That ain’t why. She already knew who Callie was. And she already hated her.” “What? How?” Finally, Roscoe took a sip of his coffee. It seemed to soothe him. Ray had laced it with a ton of cream and three sugars, the way Roscoe liked it. He took a second sip. “You remember I told you last year Jas got in trouble with that friend of hers named Serena? Sneakin’ out of the house, cutting school. Serena got picked up for shoplifting and Jas was with her?” “I remember.” Roscoe often talked non-stop when they worked together. Ray had developed a filter for retaining the significant parts of Roscoe’s chatter and letting go of the minutiae. Ray had always had a soft spot for Jasmine. He’d hated that Roscoe and Sharla couldn’t stick it out together and Jasmine ended up shuffled between the two of them. He’d been dismayed to learn it sounded as if
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she’d picked up some bad habits and some equally bad influences at such a young age. “That Serena, she was running wild. No supervision. Her mama doing drugs and I don’t know what else. The state stepped in. Put Serena in a group home.” “Uh oh.” Ray had a feeling he knew what was coming. Roscoe drank some more coffee. “Uh huh. Callie be the one do the evaluation. She figured Serena would resist, so she brought along a couple of deputies. They had to drag Serena out and cart her off. Jasmine was there.” Ray didn’t know what to say. Roscoe went on. “As far as Jas is concerned, Callie’s the bad guy. She takes her friend away. Serena can’t help it her mama don’t look out for her. All Jas knows is her friend is gone and she blames Callie.” “Can’t you explain? Did you try talking to Jas?” “Oh, there be no talking to that girl. She darn near exploded right before our eyes. Went on a rant the likes of which you ain’t never seen and stormed out. I wasn’t exactly in any position to stop her. She figures I got a foot in the enemy camp now. She don’t want to talk to me.” “She’ll come around,” Ray tried. Roscoe gave him a baleful look. He drained the last of his coffee and crumpled the cup. “Let’s go.” Driving to the job site gave Ray nothing but time to think. Roscoe tried hard to be a good father to his daughter, but the challenges that lurked around every corner never seemed to end. He hoped Jasmine wasn’t going to turn into one of those rebellious teenagers, acting out and getting in trouble. Becoming a juvenile delinquent. That’d break Roscoe’s heart.
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On a parallel track, his thoughts turned to Hayley. He’d overheard the end of her conversation with Tara and Kaylee at the party. She’d started to say something about her own mother then stopped and mentioned her grandmother helping to raise her. She hadn’t said anything about a father being in the picture. He wondered about her family. She had no photos at her place. Nothing that would indicate she even had a family. The nightstand in Fletcher’s room held the only personal picture he’d seen, and it was of a young brunette holding a younger version of Fletcher. He assumed the woman was Steffie, Fletcher’s mother. There was a tension and uncertainty about her expression that made her smile appear forced. Fletcher gazed into the camera with the same serious concentration he often displayed now. Hayley didn’t talk about any extended family. But there was a lot Hayley didn’t talk about, which both intrigued and annoyed him. He wanted to peel away those layers she covered herself with and find out what made her tick. What was she afraid of? What did she care about? What was important in her life? Again came the thought that he’d find out. Little by little, as long as it took, he’d find a way to bring her out of hiding. He wasn’t going anywhere. And though she had plans to move to L.A., he knew all too well that even the best of plans could change when you least expected it, sometimes in a matter of seconds. Even though lately he’d been concentrating on getting through life day by day without thinking too far into the future, he had to admit he’d developed a sort of fuzzy plan of his own. Somehow he planned to persuade Hayley that it’d be a good idea if both she and Fletcher stayed here. With him. Forever.
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That evening, Ray appeared at Hayley’s door. He and Rick had worked out an arrangement between them that included Ray picking up Fletcher. The brothers would eat dinner and hang out with the kids at Rick’s house and then Ray would bring Fletcher home. Hayley parked outside the small salon. It was a cute place, painted pink and turquoise with a matching sign that read “Kaylee’s Kuts.” The inside was equally charming, painted in the same color scheme. The small counter held a coffeemaker and several mugs. The walls were hung with framed posters of models showing off sleek, new hairstyles. Hayley changed into a smock in the tiny bathroom and seated herself in the chair. Hayley’d had her hair done by some of the top stylists in the Jacksonville area, and although she’d wait to see the end result, she watched as Kaylee expertly wove the comb tip through her hair, creating strands to place on top of the foil before brushing it with the highlighting preparation and folding the foils neatly. They chatted about everything and nothing. Kaylee didn’t pretend to be anything but what she was—a small-town girl with a big heart who was comfortable in her own skin and happy with the choices she’d made. When they got to the topic of the Braddock clan, Hayley mentioned how nice it must be to be part of the family. Kaylee agreed. “It is. I didn’t have much of one before I married Rick.” “Me neither. Mostly, I was raised by my grandmother.” Kaylee grinned at her. “Me too! Your mama didn’t take off with a chicken feed salesman, did she?” Hayley laughed. “No. She had—still has actually—problems. I guess you’d call her an unfit mother.”
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“Oh, too bad. My Granny Daisy, though. She was the best.” “My grandmother was good to me too. And my aunt helped out a lot. She moved to Australia with her partner after my grandmother died. Still, it’s not the same as having a real family.” “I suppose not.” She smiled at Hayley in the mirror. “But look at us. We turned out okay, didn’t we?” It wasn’t the kind of question that needed an answer, but silently Hayley wondered, Did we? Did I? Why did she feel so unprepared to be on her own, then? So unsure of herself? Especially where Fletcher was concerned. And why did she continue to have this nagging feeling that Fletcher deserved more than the kind of life she’d had? Why shouldn’t he have two parents instead of a struggling single mother with no parenting skills whatsoever? More than anything she wanted to give him the kind of childhood she used to long for. “I don’t know who I fell in love with first—Rick or Molly. Almost from the moment I walked into Rick’s house, I felt like I belonged there. Like I found the family I’d been looking for without knowing I was looking.” Kaylee shook her head. “Of course, it took Rick a little longer to figure it out. Sometimes you don’t realize what you’ve got until you think you’ve lost it.” They continued to chat, and before long Hayley felt comfortable enough to ask Kaylee about her mother-in-law. “When we were leaving Molly’s party, she told me if I hurt Ray I’d have to deal with her.” Kaylee paused, scissors and comb in hand. A grin spread across her face. She laughed. It took her a little while to get herself under control. She giggled some more and shook her head at Hayley in the mirror. “Sorry. Sorry about that. Lena said exactly the same thing to me right after our wedding. Warning me, I suppose, that if I hurt Rick, she’d be gunning for me. She must think you and Ray are serious about each other.”
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“But we’re not!” Hayley cried. “We’re friends. We hang out, but that’s pretty much it.” Almost. “You don’t have to get defensive with me,” Kaylee informed her as she combed through her hair. “But, honey, I’ve seen the way Ray looks at you. He’s what Grandma Daisy would call ‘smitten’.” She grinned. “Yeah, well, once smitten, twice shy,” Hayley grumbled. Kaylee laughed. “Doesn’t matter. I see you two circling each other like a couple of wary porcupines, quills up, defending your territory. Nobody wants to get hurt, so you’re being very careful.” She pointed her comb at Hayley’s mirrored reflection. “But eventually, even wary porcupines make some concessions. That’s how come there’s still porcupines.” Kaylee’s
metaphor
made
Hayley
smile.
Kaylee
might
be
an
unsophisticated country girl but she was wise in the ways of the heart.
While at the salon, Hayley missed a call from her friend Andre. After Fletcher went to sleep, she decided to forgo her usual glass of wine and cigarette and took a big glass of ice water out to the porch and called him back. “How’s my girl?” he said the moment he picked up, his Louisianaaccented baritone seeming to fill up the empty places inside her. “God, I miss you,” she replied. She’d spent a lot of time with Andre the past year and a half, even sort of lived with him for a while. He’d been there for her in ways no one else had, and she loved him for it. “Well, guess what, darlin’? You’re in luck, then, cuz I’m inviting myself for a visit.” “You are! When?” “Next weekend. That work for you?”
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“Oh, Andre. I’ll make it work. I can’t wait to see you.” “Me too. So what’s been going on?” The change in Andre’s tone was subtle, but Hayley knew him well. She’d tell him almost everything anyway, but she wanted to tease him a little first. He and Paige had probably already talked. “Not much. What’s going on with you?” “Uh, uh, uh. We’re talking about you. Spill.” “You talked to Paige, huh?” “Of course. Somebody got to watch out for you.” “I’m a big girl, Andre. I can take care of myself.” A long silence followed that statement when Andre made no comment to the contrary. Hayley gave in and amended it. “Okay. Okay. I’m learning to take care of myself.” “And Fletcher,” Andre added. “How is he?” “Quiet. But he’s fine.” “I hear he’s made a new friend.” Hayley knew this was coming, but she let a silence of her own drag out anyway. She wasn’t sure how to explain Ray or her jumbled feelings about him to either of her two closest friends. Finally, she just said, “Yes.” “Oh, girlfriend. This sounds serious.” “It does not. Stop it.” How could he infer anything from such a simple answer? “Don’t matter,” Andre informed her. “I’ll be seeing for myself soon enough. I’ll make it my business while I’m there to see whether or not he’s Hayley-worthy.” Hayley offered an unladylike snort at that. “I can answer that already. He’s probably too good for me.” “Ain’t no such thing,” Andre stated firmly.
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“Then let me put it this way. He’s too good to me.” “And I repeat, there ain’t no such thing. Damn, girl, we got a lot of work to do undoing the number Trey did on you.” “It doesn’t matter. It’s not going anywhere anyway because I’m only here temporarily.” This statement caused another lull in the conversation. Somehow the ease with which she’d always conversed with Paige and Andre evaporated as soon as the topic of Ray was introduced. They were both concerned with her welfare, and they both seemed to think there was more going on with her and Ray than there actually was. Perhaps that stemmed from her inability to explain, even to herself, exactly what was developing between them. He lived next door. His mere presence caused the ripple effect. She liked him. Fletcher liked him. After kissing him that one time her feelings became a jumbled mess. “You know, you don’t have to go to L.A.” “Yes, I do. That’s the plan. This time I’m not deviating from the plan.” “Plans can change,” Andre said gently. “I know. But I need to start over. Get away from here. Reinvent myself.” “You don’t need to reinvent nothing. You about perfect the way you are.” Hayley laughed. “See, that’s why I love you. Because you think that. Listen, I need to go. We’ll talk more when you’re here, okay?” They said their good-byes and disconnected. Before she fell asleep, Hayley decided it didn’t matter what Andre and Paige thought about whatever was happening with her and Ray. She’d be in Perrish only as long as it took to get Fletcher settled in an appropriate situation, and then she’d head to L.A. as planned. This…interlude in her life that included Ray would be just that. Brief. Pleasant. And in time, just a distant memory.
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Chapter Fourteen
Hayley saw Ray sprawled under the big oak tree that shaded his half of the front yard the moment she pulled into the driveway several days later. A small fawn-colored dog jumped around next to him. Hayley parked and got out of the car, then released Fletcher from his car seat. Fletcher saw Ray and made a beeline for him. The puppy caught sight of Fletcher and stopped in its tracks, watching him approach. It backed up a couple of steps. Ray petted its back and spoke to it soothingly. “It’s okay. That’s Fletcher.” Fletcher stopped a few feet away. Hayley paused behind him. “Hi.” Ray’s greeting included both of them. The puppy sidled up close to Ray and sat down. His whole body shook, as if he had a case of the DTs. Ray continued to stroke him. “You can come closer,” he said to Fletcher in that same soothing tone. “He’s a little scared is all. Come and sit down.” He patted the grass on his opposite side. “He’ll get used to you.” Fletcher did as Ray suggested, plunking himself down, never taking his eyes off the puppy. Hayley moved closer and sat a few feet away. It was hot out there, like it always was this time of day with the humidity climbing toward a hundred percent. But the grass was like a soft green carpet, and with the shade from the tree, it was almost bearable to be outside.
Barbara Meyers
“I got him from the shelter,” Ray informed her. He continued to pet the puppy’s medium brown fur which tapered to white on his underside. He had a square head and jowls, floppy ears and a cropped tail. His golden-brown eyes were wary but curious. Hayley took a closer look at the dog and saw there were several hairless gray patches on his coat, and he was missing quite a few of his teeth. There was a ragged scar along the top of one of his ears. “He looks like someone beat him up.” “I know. I came up with a great name for him, though. ‘Oscar’.” At her questioning look he explained, “After Oscar de la Hoya.” Hayley’s brows knit together. She’d heard the name before. “He’s a boxer.” He pointed at the puppy. “And he’s a boxer.” “Aaah.” “I figured if I gave him a champ’s name, maybe he’d learn how to fight back when he had to. Stand up for himself, you know?” The puppy had crawled a few inches in Fletcher’s direction. Fletcher sat still, watching the dog. The puppy continued to creep forward, a few inches at a time to where Fletcher sat cross-legged. Once he was close enough, the puppy sniffed and licked Fletcher’s knee. Fletcher twitched, but otherwise didn’t move. Encouraged, the puppy stood and stepped closer, sniffing his way along Fletcher’s body, up his arm to his shoulder and neck. He began licking Fletcher’s ear. When Fletcher didn’t react, the puppy increased his efforts with enthusiasm, his pink tongue lathing Fletcher’s face, ear and neck, leaving a stream of puppy drool in its wake. Fletcher smiled. He put his hands on the puppy’s shoulders, rubbing his fingers into the dog’s fur while the puppy slobbered all over him.
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Hayley stared, her sudden intake of breath a signal to Ray. He cut his gaze to her. “He’s smiling.” Ray grinned and glanced back at the boy and the dog. Fletcher fell back onto the grass. Sounds like muffled chortles emitted from him. Oscar pounced on him, nipping at his tee-shirt as best he could with his half-empty gums. Fletcher rolled over and the puppy stayed with him. He stood up, and so did Oscar, as if waiting to see what he’d do next. Fletcher took a couple of steps and the puppy followed. Once Fletcher figured out the dog would go where he went, he started into a little boy run around the yard. Oscar kept pace with him, jumping up at him every few feet. Fletcher smiled. Hayley was in awe. Tears filled her eyes. Maybe there was hope for Fletcher. Maybe there was hope for all of them. Including that abused little dog. “What made you get a dog?” Hayley asked after a few minutes. She and Ray had been watching Fletcher interact with the puppy. They’d made a couple of circuits around the yard before plopping down in the shade of the tree in front of Hayley’s side of the duplex. The puppy was panting, and Fletcher’s face was flushed, his hair sweaty and mussed. Ray didn’t answer immediately, and Hayley swung her gaze back to him. “I had one before Caroline and I got married. A boxer a lot like this one. Minus the scars and missing teeth. He and Caroline didn’t get along. I had to find another home for him.” Hayley’s mouth dropped open. “She made you give up your dog?” “No. It was my choice.” Ray’s tone had an edge to it. For some reason, he didn’t want her to think ill of his dead wife. Hayley tried not to. But she questioned Ray’s judgment. Shouldn’t he have determined that his wife wasn’t crazy about his dog before he married her? Or had he loved Caroline more than the dog? Had he sacrificed something important to him to show how much he
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loved her? And if so, had Caroline appreciated the gesture? Or had she merely considered it her due? They sat for a few more minutes watching Fletcher and Oscar before Hayley stood. “I’m going in. I’m melting out here.” She glanced at the sky where gray clouds were gathering. “It’s going to rain pretty soon.” This time of year, it rained almost every afternoon or evening. She called to Fletcher. Reluctantly he rose and came toward her with Oscar trailing him. Ray got to his feet. “I better take Oscar in and give him some water. Let him cool off.” Hayley started toward her door and Ray headed for his. Fletcher dragged his feet in a straight line until he was standing between the two entrances. “Come on, Oscar,” Ray called. He bent down and clapped his hands. The puppy came to him. Fletcher’s face fell. He sent a pleading look in Hayley’s direction, clearly unhappy to be separated from his new friend. Ray looked up and took in Fletcher’s expression. He glanced at Hayley. “Maybe Fletcher can come over and help me fill Oscar’s water bowl? He’ll probably take a nap after that.” “Okay,” Hayley agreed. “Not too long, though.” She turned to go inside but not before she saw a shadow of a smile cross Fletcher’s normally subdued features once again. Once inside she breathed the cool air, feeling as she usually did after a day at the Y. Desperate for a shower, she filled a glass with ice and water and took it into the bathroom with her, sipping as she undressed and waited for the spray to warm up. She tried not to think about Ray too much, about how attached to him Fletcher had become. Now that Ray had a dog, she’d probably have to tear him away from Ray’s side of the duplex every day. As if dealing with Fletcher wasn’t difficult enough.
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But at the same time, she couldn’t fault Ray. Fletcher had actually smiled. The first smile she’d seen on his face since Steffie’s death. Ray might have adopted Oscar for reasons of his own, but she suspected he’d also known how Fletcher might respond to an animal. Maybe he too had noticed how Rick’s dog had trailed after Fletcher at Molly’s party. She adjusted the faucet so the water was merely tepid and stepped in. It had never occurred to her that a dog might bring Fletcher out of his self-imposed shell. She had enough to deal with on a daily basis without adding a four-legged creature to the mix. A dog required shots and veterinarian care and food, which she couldn’t afford. Ray had no children, but his parental instincts were much more evolved than hers. From the moment he’d met Fletcher, it seemed like he’d somehow bonded with him, something she hadn’t managed to do in the last few months of living with the boy, trying to mother him and knowing she was failing. On some level, she suspected Fletcher knew it too. That’s probably why many of the child-rearing experts believed a child needed a mother and a father. To balance each other. Maybe one could make up for what the other one lacked. “But in my case, I lack everything,” Hayley told herself morosely. Whether Carlos would allow it or not, she simply wasn’t cut out to be Fletcher’s mommy. He needed a real family that included two parents and not one inept one. Somehow, even though it would crush her to let him go, she was going to have to see that Steffie’s son got what he needed. It was the least she could do for her stepsister. The least she could do for Fletcher.
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Chapter Fifteen
The following Sunday, Ray was in the laundry room when he heard a car door slam followed by an excited squeal. He crossed to the front window in time to see Hayley hurl herself into the arms of a man who’d apparently recently exited a black Cadillac Escalade. The man caught her and swung her around while she planted kisses all over his face. The man laughed and squeezed her as if he was never going to let go. A spear of oozing green jealousy shot through Ray. He recognized the guy. Andre Tibedeaux. The Jacks’ defensive lineman. The one Hayley’s exhusband had accused her of having an affair with. Hayley unwrapped herself from around the guy and, arm in arm, they headed toward her side of the duplex. Ray decided he hated the man whether he’d slept with Hayley or not. She’d never shown that kind of enthusiasm for his advances, that was for sure. Again he was plagued by how much he didn’t know about Hayley. Whatever he’d found when he Googled her certainly didn’t tell the whole the story. Most of it probably wasn’t even factual. She had a vindictive ex-husband who’d done his best to make her look bad, and he’d succeeded. Ray was sure there was more to Hayley’s past than the newspapers chose to print. He reminded himself of his vow to get past her defenses and find out who she truly was. Then he’d be able to trust her completely. Hours later his phone rang. He’d been doing paperwork, paying bills and putting in orders for materials. He checked the caller ID to see Hayley’s name and number.
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“Come over for dinner,” she said as soon as he answered. “Okay. What are you burning this evening?” She laughed in a way he’d never heard before. Lighthearted. Girlish. It made him smile. “I’m not cooking. My friend Andre is here. I want you to meet him. He’s making jambalaya.” Oscar stood on his hind legs with his front ones on Ray’s thigh. Ray absently scratched him behind the ears. His desk was still covered with paper. The computer cursor blinked insistently. “What time?” “Any time. Come now if you want. Hang on a minute.” She covered the phone with her hand, but he could hear her asking Andre when the food would be ready. “About seven to eat.” “I’ve got some work to finish up. I’ll be over in a bit.” “Great.” She hung up. Ray got a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. When Hayley answered his knock an hour later, Ray’s first thought was he’d never seen her looking so animated and relaxed. Hayley obviously knew Andre Tibedeaux well. How well, Ray wondered. What exactly was he up against here? Andre himself looked perfectly at home on Hayley’s sofa with Fletcher on his lap. Fletcher was entranced by what looked like a hand-held video game Andre was showing him how to use. They barely noticed Ray’s entrance. Great, Ray thought. Not only was Andre closer to Hayley than he was, apparently he’d won Fletcher over as well.
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Hayley took his arm and drew him into the kitchen. He set the six-pack he’d brought with him on the counter. Hayley nudged him. “Hey. What kind of greeting is this?” She moved in close, slid her arms around him and hugged him. “I’m glad you came. I wanted you to meet Andre.” It took him only a minute to switch focus and hug her back. He placed his hands on her waist and studied her when the embrace ended. He sure hoped she wasn’t using him to make Andre jealous. She stared up at him. “What?” He shook his head. “Nothing.” His gaze flickered back to Andre and Fletcher. The game must be over. “Ray, this is Andre Tibedeaux. Andre, Ray Braddock.” The two men shook hands. Fletcher stood between them, head tilted up as if he wasn’t certain where he belonged. Ray hunkered in front of him. “And I think I know this guy. How you doing, Fletch?” He offered Fletcher a closed fist, and Fletcher bumped it with his own. Ray could have sworn he almost smiled. He straightened, feeling like slightly less of a third wheel. “Smells good in here.” “Jamabalaya. My mama’s recipe,” Andre informed him. The three of them moved out of his way as he moved to the stove and lifted the lid on a big pot. He stirred it with a long-handled spoon. “Mm-mm. Come to Daddy.” He turned back to them, his dark eyes alight with enjoyment. He spotted the six-pack on the counter. “You sharing that beer, Ray?” “Planned on it.” Ray handed him a bottle and took one for himself. He set the rest of it in the refrigerator. He and Andre opened the bottles and raised them in a silent toast while taking the other’s measure.
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Ray sensed Andre assessing him. Why? To gauge his interest in Hayley? He didn’t like feeling as if he didn’t know where he stood with her. He thought they’d cemented something between them the other night, but now he wasn’t sure. Andre had a longer history with Hayley. But exactly what that history was, Ray couldn’t quite pin down. They sat down to dinner. Ray complimented Andre on the jambalaya, and they chatted like old friends. Andre entertained them all, sharing professional football insider tidbits and memories of other times he and Hayley had shared. He gazed at her with affection, but that was all Ray could read in his demeanor. After dinner, Andre insisted on cleaning up even when Hayley objected. “No, girl. You sit there and drink your wine and keep Ray company. I got this.” Ray stared at Andre as he fussed around the kitchen with precise movements, storing the leftover food in plastic containers, neatly lining up the plates and utensils in the dishwasher. What kind of guy offers to do the dishes and acts like he enjoys it almost as much as he does cooking jambalaya from his mama’s recipe? What kind of guy encourages a woman like Hayley to entertain another man? The only kind of cooking Ray ever did was throwing meat on a grill or nuking frozen food. Sure, he could put an omelet together or make a grilled cheese sandwich and soup. Occasionally, he’d fry up the fish he caught. But he’d never aspired to anything more ambitious than that. And the only time he ever willingly helped clean up a kitchen was when it offered the added benefit of being in close proximity to an attractive woman. Mostly he left dirty dishes soaking in the sink until the sink was full of them or he ran out of clean dishes, whichever came first. That’s when he knew it was time to load the dishwasher. He gazed at Hayley, huddled over Fletcher’s new video game with him.
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An idea clicked in Ray’s brain. He rejected it as soon as it arrived, but the more he thought about it, the more he ran down the incomplete list of facts as he knew them, the more it made sense. Ray thought back to everything he’d read online about Hayley, the insinuations the press had made about her supposed affair with one of Trey Christopher’s teammates. There’d been a photo of Hayley and Andre huddled together at a small table in the outdoor seating area of a restaurant. Hayley wore sunglasses, but her expression was intense. Ray remembered thinking she looked troubled when he’d studied the photo. He looked at her now, absorbed as she was in Fletcher’s video game, his small hands guiding hers to the correct buttons. Then he gazed Andre’s way to find the other man taking in the same scene. Their gazes crossed and Andre winked at him. Ray wasn’t sure what message that was supposed to send, but he went back to contemplating Hayley’s relationship with Andre. He did his best to put two and two together and come up with a possible answer of four. The only answer Ray came up with was that Andre Tibedeaux was gay. And he was still in the closet.
It was almost midnight when Ray stepped outside with Oscar on his leash. He could hear the murmur of a male voice nearby, though he couldn’t make out the words. He turned on the flashlight he held and was almost past Andre’s Escalade when he heard a slight click, like of a cell phone being snapped shut. Ray paused as Andre stepped in front of him.
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Oscar halted in his tracks and began to anxiously sniff Andre’s shoes. Andre bent down and offered his hand to the dog, talking to him in a low tone. He glanced up at Ray. “Taking him for a walk?” “A short one.” “Mind some company?” “No. Not at all.” They set off, Oscar doing his stop, sniff and pee routine every ten feet or so. Ray had discovered it was better to give Oscar a late-night walk than be awakened at a disgustingly early hour to let him out. He sort of liked being out this time of night. The heat of the day had dissipated, and though the humidity remained, the air had a softness to it that didn’t exist any other time. Quite a few stars dotted the sky, and clouds only partially hid a three-quarter moon. They arrived at the end of the block in silence and turned the corner. “You in love with my girl, Hayley?” Andre asked completely out of the blue. Ray kept walking, contemplating the question. Was he in love with Hayley? He might be. He could be. Maybe he even wanted to be. But it was a bit early to concede that kind of feeling. “Hard to say,” he replied. He wasn’t sure it was any of Andre’s business anyway. Ray could feel Andre’s gaze on him. “Not hard. Either you is or you isn’t.” Although Andre had a degree from LSU, his speech often reflected his rural Louisiana background. “What business is it of yours anyway? You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me.” Ray kept his tone mild and as matter-of-fact as he could, but inside he could feel resentment building at Andre’s heavy-handed interrogation style.
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“Yep. You right about that. But I know my girl. She around you and them sparks, they is a flyin’.” Ray couldn’t help but give a hard bark of laughter at Andre’s analysis of the chemistry between him and Hayley. “Yeah. There’s sparks all right, but not much else.” “She scared,” Andre stated. “Yep.” “Maybe you scared too.” Now it was Ray’s turn to give Andre a brief sideways glance. He didn’t bother to dignify that last comment with a reply. “I think Hayley’s real good at keeping secrets,” Ray said after a minute, in an attempt to steer the conversation in a different direction. “Oh yeah. She is. Sometimes to her detriment.” “And sometimes to protect someone she loves. Like you, for instance.” Andre stopped. They’d come to the end of the street and there happened to be a bench nearby where the local school children waited for the bus. Andre walked over to it and sat, gesturing for Ray to follow suit. “Yep. You’re right. She did and I let her. They damn near crucified her, all that business about her and me. That damn husband of hers, he no good anyway once he got himself doped up on pills and booze. Took her and fed her to the wolves, and she like a blind, faithful dog to him all the time they married.” “And she wouldn’t rat you out.” “Hell no. We be friends is all. Best friends. She come stay with me when that damn Trey kicked her out. That’s how it started. I tell her, girl, it be okay if the whole world knows Andre’s gay. But she won’t do it. She afraid Phil get hurt. Don’t nobody know about him and me ’cept her. She know we don’t want
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nobody to know. Everyone think she cheating on Trey with me. Even when she denied it, nobody listen.” “How does she know about you and, uh, Phil, was it?” Andre laughed, a deep-throated sound of amusement. “She catch us. After a game. She came back to the stadium looking for Trey. He’s not there, but she sees my Escalade and she came over. Me and Phil, we were…well, it don’t matter. She embarrassed and upset. She can’t find Trey, but she sure found something else.” He chuckled again at the memory. “That poor girl. We made her come with us back to my place and the whole story comes out. Her and Trey. That boy throwed out the best thing ever happened to him.” Andre shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe such stupidity. Ray tried to picture the scenario Andre had drawn. A big piece of the Hayley puzzle fell into place. To protect Andre, and by extension, his lover, she had virtually sacrificed herself to the press. And probably to Trey Christopher’s lawyers and PR people as well. “What’s Phil’s story that he’s not out either?” Ray asked. Homosexuality barely carried any of the negative stigma it once had. Or so he thought. “You ever heard of ‘Killer Phil’?” “Phil Branson? The pro wrestler?” “That be Phil.” “No shit!” Ray picked his jaw up off the ground. Appearances were most certainly not what they seemed. Here were two of the most macho-appearing guys in professional sports. And they were both gay. “Nobody going to want to get in the ring with Phil they know he’s gay.” “And no one wants to be in the locker room with you if they know you are.”
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“You got that right.” Andre sighed, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “But how do you manage? How do you keep the press, anyone for that matter, from becoming suspicious?” “It’s work, brother, I’m not going to lie.” He glanced at Ray. “Truth?” “Sure.” “It didn’t hurt me at all that everyone, the team, the press, even Trey’s people thought what they thought about me and Hayley. I had a couple of big endorsement contracts I didn’t want to lose. Same with Phil. But they expire the end of the year. And I’m retiring after this season. Phil too. So it won’t matter. We’re not going to make a big deal out of it, no press conference or anything, but we’re going to stop hiding from the world.” “And that will absolve Hayley, as well,” Ray observed. “Too little too late, but yeah. She lived in my guest house for a while, got a job at a gym while she waited on a settlement from the divorce. Figured that damn Trey would screw her over every chance he got, including not giving her hardly anything in the divorce. She was all set to head to L.A. and start over anyway. Had a job lined up with her friend Paige. All she wanted before Steffie died was to get as far away from Jacksonville as possible. She put L.A. on hold to look after Fletcher. She wouldn’t take a dime from me. Only thing she let me pay for was Steffie’s funeral. She moved here to get away from all the shit be pouring down on her. I guess you know the rest.” “She says she’s not going to adopt Fletcher. But she’s still planning the move to L.A.?” Andre lifted his massive shoulders and let them droop. “I don’t know. Be honest with you, I don’t think she knows what she’s going to do.”
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After a few minutes, Ray stood and so did Andre. They began making their way back with a sleepy Oscar trailing behind them. “How’d you know, anyway?” Andre asked. Ray knew what he meant. “My first clue was the way you looked at Hayley.” He turned his head and caught Andre’s eye. “Not like you wanted to hook up with her.” Andre chuckled. “But what clinched it was when you offered to do the dishes. No straight guy ever offers to do the dishes. Unless there’s a pretty woman in the kitchen with him.” Andre laughed heartily. “It’s always the little things, ain’t it, that catch you up?”
Hayley snuggled against Andre’s warmth when he settled into the bed next to her. The best part about having a gay best friend, she thought. He was a guy you could sleep with and never worry about him expecting sexual favors. “Get ahold of Phil?” she asked sleepily. “You were out there a long time.” Andre spooned her, his arm lying heavily across her waist. “Got hold of Phil. He says tell you how much he misses you. Bummed he couldn’t come with me.” “Probably for the best,” Hayley murmured. “Probably,” Andre agreed. “Had a chat with your landlord.” Hayley stiffened, and turned her head slightly, trying to see Andre behind her. Impossible in the dark anyway. She lay back down. “What’d Ray have to say?” Andre wouldn’t have brought it up unless he had something he wanted to spill.
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“He knows.” “Knows what?” “About me. Phil.” Hayley turned over to face Andre. He shifted as well. Pillow talk, she thought, and smiled. “I guess I’m not surprised he figured it out. Ray’s no dummy. You told him about Phil?” “Yep.” Andre didn’t elaborate. Hayley knew that meant he trusted Ray. “Lots of heat between you two,” Andre commented, fishing. “Yeah.” “I’d do him if he swung my way.” Andre’s teeth flashed white in the near darkness. “I’m sure you would.” Hayley grinned. One of their favorite games was Who would you do if he were gay? “Why don’t you?” Hayley shrugged. Andre knew her well enough, knew enough of her history. He shouldn’t ask such a question. “Scared?” Out of my mind. “I guess.” “Him too.” “He told you that?” “I implied it. He didn’t argue.” “Maybe when you retire, you can go into relationship counseling.” “Thinking about it.” Andre’s grin flashed again. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Hayley turned over again and presented Andre with her back. He shifted closer and draped his arm over her waist again. “That’s my Scarlett. Think about it tomorrow.”
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Hayley groaned as she swam up from sleep to find the bedroom bathed in daylight. She gasped before she remembered she had the morning off. Her first class wasn’t until one this afternoon. She eyed the digital alarm clock. It was almost nine. Andre slept on, oblivious, as she got out of bed and tied a bathrobe around her. She stopped in the bathroom before peeking in on Fletcher. The covers were tangled around him, his arms outflung, his bedraggled teddy bear close by. He rarely got to sleep in during the week, so she had no idea what time he’d wake up on his own if given the chance. She’d put some coffee on, take a shower and dress. By then, Fletcher and Andre would be awake. Maybe Andre would like to cook breakfast. She grinned as she scooped coffee into the filter. It’d be nice to have a man around to cook for her all the time. Her thoughts skittered to Ray, and just as quickly, she pushed them away. Nope. No all the time. No forever there. Ray was a distraction, a huge help with Fletcher and great company. She liked him. Liked being around him. But she wasn’t going to start a relationship that wouldn’t last. She wasn’t going to get her heart broken, and she wasn’t going to break his. End of story. She padded back to the bathroom and turned on the shower, continuing her internal anti-Ray-involvement pep talk. Perrish, Florida was a temporary stop for her and Fletcher. As soon as DCW got all its ducks in a row, figured out what to do about Fletcher, she’d move on. Working for Paige, she’d be able to support herself, finish college, decide what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. What she didn’t want to do was repeat her past. She had to protect herself.
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Hayley wrapped a towel around her wet hair and dried off. In her robe, she went back to the kitchen and poured coffee. Someone knocked on the door. She peeked out the sidelight and saw the DCW social worker. She opened the door. “Miz Christopher.” “Miss Maxwell. I wasn’t expecting you.” “Course not. We don’t schedule home inspections. We show up without an appointment. Thought I explained that to you.” “Oh. Yes. You did.” Hayley tried to remember everything Callie Maxwell had told her about the procedure to qualify for foster parenting. There’d been an endless list and volumes of forms to be completed. Vaguely she recalled mention of unscheduled home visits. “You going to keep me out here or can I come in?” The social worker raised an eyebrow in question. “Oh. Sorry. Of course. Please come in. Sorry, I’m not—er, ready—um, dressed.” “Ain’t no problem. I don’t care what you wearin.’ I’ll take a peek around. Be out of here shortly.” “Oh, okay.” Callie Maxwell glanced around as Hayley closed the door behind her. “Bedrooms are this way, correct?” she asked as she crossed the living area. “Yes, uh—” “Need to check the bathroom. Ah, right here.” Hayley watched as Callie stepped into the hallway and poked her head into the small bathroom. Fletcher’s room was to the right. Hers to the left. “That you, baby?” she heard Andre ask. “You bringin’ your favorite man some coffee, or what?”
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Hayley cringed as the social worker took a few steps to the left of the bathroom door, far enough, she was sure, to see into the open door of her bedroom, to see Andre in her bed. “Hayley’s in the kitchen,” she informed Andre. “I’ll tell her to bring you coffee.” Callie went back past the bathroom toward Fletcher’s bedroom and reappeared a minute later. “Your, uh, guest, wants coffee.” “He’s, um, he’s a friend.” “I see that.” “He’s visiting. Overnight.” Oops. That didn’t sound right. “He has to leave today.” “Okay. Laundry room in through here?” Callie passed by the kitchen area and poked her head into the small utility room. Next she made a circuit of the kitchen, looking into the refrigerator and freezer, the microwave and oven, glancing at the counters and the sink. “Want some coffee?” Hayley asked, although she didn’t particularly want to prolong the social worker’s stay. Andre appeared at that moment, dressed in yesterday’s clothes. Callie’s eyes bugged out as she stared at him. Andre’s gaze moved from her to Hayley and back before Hayley remembered to introduce them. He stepped forward and shook Callie’s hand. “Pleased to meet you.” To Hayley he said, “I gotta get some stuff out of the car. Be right back.” He closed the door behind him, and Hayley turned to gauge the social worker’s reaction. “Mmm-mmm. That be one fine specimen of a man you got there.” “I, uh, don’t have him. He’s a friend. A close friend.”
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Callie looked at her. “Yes. I see that. I’ll be going now. But I’ll be back. Without warning. You have a good day. Mmm-mmm-mmm.” Hayley closed the door behind the social worker. Fletcher appeared in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes and clutching his bear. Seconds later, Andre walked back in, holding a duffel bag. “How about I cook us all some breakfast?” “I do love a man who cooks for me,” Hayley said an hour later. She popped the last bite of French toast into her mouth, chewed and swallowed. After Fletcher had finished eating, Hayley turned on Sesame Street for him. She poured more coffee for her and Andre and dropped a kiss on Andre’s cheek before returning to her chair. “I wish you could stay longer,” she told him. “Me too. I’d like to see you and your next-door neighbor in action.” He grinned in delight. “There’s not much action going on,” Hayley informed him. “And there won’t be.” Andre raised an eyebrow. “Why not?” “Because there’s no point in getting involved with him. I’m not staying here. You know that. As soon as DCW finds a family for Fletcher, I head for L.A. That’s the plan.” “Plans can change,” Andre pointed out mildly. “You’re right. I thought I’d be married to Trey my whole life, but he sure changed that plan.” “We ain’t talkin’ ’bout Trey. We talkin’ ’bout you and what you want.” “That’s easy. I don’t want to get hurt again.”
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Andre covered her hand with his. “Aw, baby. That ain’t no way to live, pushing away every good thing, every good man that comes along just ’cause you playing the ‘what if’ game all the time.” Hayley stared into her coffee cup. In her head, she knew Andre was right. But her heart wasn’t ready to put itself out there again. “Ray’s a good guy. Plus he’s got a thing for you. And I know you got a thing for him. You know how rare that is?” Hayley was afraid she did. So what were the chances it could happen to her twice? And what were the chances it wouldn’t blow up in her face a second time? “It’s more than that. I don’t want to hurt him, either. And I know if I take it to the next level, he’s going to expect more. And I’m not sure I’ve got anything left to give.” “Maybe you owe it to him and to yourself to find out.” Hayley shook back her hair. “Besides, I promised Paige I’d move out there. She’s already been more than patient holding a job for me. I can’t let her down.” “Paige would understand,” Andre said. “She’d want what’s best for you. She’d want you to be happy.” Hayley gave a little laugh at that. She was pretty sure she’d forgotten what happy was like. “I want L.A. I want something different. Somewhere different. Where I don’t have to be reminded of everything bad that’s happened to me.” “Anywhere but here, huh?” Andre said with an understanding smile. “I just want a new life, a different life.” “I get that. But you don’t necessarily have to move across the country to find it.”
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Sesame Street ended, and Fletcher came over to stand by Hayley’s chair, clutching his bear. She put her arm around him and kissed his hair. “Hey, sweetie. Is your show over?” Fletcher nodded. “Want to help me load the dishwasher?” Again Fletcher nodded. Hayley had discovered he enjoyed putting the utensils into the slots for her. She pushed back from the table. Andre caught her wrist and gazed into her eyes. “Are you really sure you can give that little boy up?” he asked softly. Fletcher had already moved to the counter to wait for her. Her gaze flickered his way briefly before returning to Andre. “I have to.”
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Chapter Sixteen
The following Saturday morning, Hayley attacked the bathroom wallpaper with gusto, something she’d wanted to do since the day she’d moved in. She hadn’t told Ray how truly awful she thought it was, but wondered who in their right mind would choose such a garish design? One of the previous tenants, probably. The huge red poppies overwhelmed the small space, and Hayley always felt like their black centers were eyes staring at her. She’d get rid of every last bit of it, no matter how long it took. She’d paint the walls something soft and pretty and neutral. Blue, maybe. The fixtures and tile were white. Any color would be better than these giant crimson poppies on silver foil. The next tenant would appreciate her effort. Earlier in the week, she’d asked Ray about tearing down the wallpaper and he’d given his approval. Last night, she’d borrowed a ladder from him, and she was making good headway on the project when she heard him greet Fletcher at the front door. “I’m in the bathroom,” she called through the partially open door. The ladder took up most of the floor space, and she’d angled the front feet into the tub to reach the far wall. “Hey, what are you—” Ray stopped mid-sentence, and Hayley turned to answer him. His expression stopped her. He stared at the fallen strips of wallpaper on the floor, then at the jagged edges on the wall where bits and pieces of poppies still lurked.
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Some of it had come off in big, uneven strips, but some of it was going to take a little more work. “The wallpaper,” Hayley started to explain. “You said I could tear it down, remember?” Ray stared up at her. He looked, if she had to choose a word, devastated. Oh my God. What had she done to cause such a reaction? She started down from the ladder. “Ray, I—” Ray turned and bolted. She stumbled and tripped, stepping over the side of the tub. Hanging on to the vanity to regain her balance, she called to him. The slam of the front door answered her. Fletcher jumped at the sound of the door then turned to look at her, as if expecting a reprimand. As if he were to blame for Ray’s hasty exit. Hayley hurried over to him and hugged him to her. She rubbed his back, her gaze trained on the driveway visible from the window. Ray’s Explorer backed out of the driveway and disappeared around the corner with a squeal of tires. “It’s okay, Fletch. It’s not your fault.” But whose fault was it? Fletcher went back to his Legos, Lincoln Logs and toy cars. The Cartoon Network kept him company while he built a city big enough to cover the coffee table. Hayley returned to the bathroom to survey the destruction. What had Ray seen that she didn’t see? She had no idea. The walls were in good condition, and they’d be fine once she got all the wallpaper and glue off and scrubbed them. It wouldn’t take her long to prime and paint them. If she kept at it, she could have it done by tomorrow. She couldn’t leave the bathroom the way it was.
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Ray drove to his favorite fishing spot and parked. He got out and sat on the big flat rock overlooking the river. Seeing Hayley on the ladder, ripping that crazy poppy wallpaper off the wall, had triggered something inside him. He thought he was going to fall apart right there in front of her. He had to get away before he did. He thought he was doing better. He could once again sleep through the night. He thought he’d buried all his memories in the past where they belonged. But sometimes they sneaked up on him when he least expected it, and there he’d be, like a lost little kid, devastated and with no shoulder to cry on. In his head, he’d superimposed an image of Caroline, there atop the ladder. She’d picked out that hideous wallpaper and recruited him to help hang it, a chore he detested. But he couldn’t say no to Caroline. The exact same wallpaper hung in the bathroom on his side of the duplex. It had come as no surprise to him when Caroline informed him she’d found enough rolls at half price to do both bathrooms. They’d spent a weekend good-naturedly arguing while they hung the paper. When they were almost done, Caroline had teetered on the top step of the ladder, and Ray had grabbed her before she could fall. Then he’d dragged her into the bedroom, laughing and protesting, and they’d stripped off their sticky, glue-spattered clothes and made love. Ray ground the heels of his hands against his eyes and did his best to dissolve the lump of emotion lodged at the back of his throat. If Caroline had lived—oh, what was the point in thinking that way? He asked himself this for the thousandth time, but he couldn’t always stop his mind from going there. Asking “what if” questions got him nowhere. They made him feel worse. But in his head he could reconstruct the perfect scenario, he could change his own
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behavior. Instead of behaving like an ass, he’d be the knight in shining armor, thrilled with the unexpected news that he was about to be a dad, not bothered by his wife’s deception. If Caroline were still alive, he’d still be married and there’d be a little boy toddling after him. If he’d listened to Caroline’s concerns about the endless time bomb ticking of her biological clock, if he hadn’t been so adamant about sticking to their plan, if he’d put her needs above his own—it would have changed nothing. He couldn’t have prevented the fluke of Caroline’s weakened aorta. He’d still have lost her and their unborn child. And he’d probably still find something to beat himself up over now. Idiot, he chided himself. Caroline had never been particularly strong. She was slender, sort of fragile-looking, but healthy as far as anyone knew. He’d loved her. He had a history with her. What she’d done hadn’t been unforgiveable. He’d expected to be with her forever. This morning, when he’d seen those jagged strips of wallpaper still clinging to the wall, and the big and small pieces scattered across the floor, all he could think was, there was another piece of his life with Caroline ripped away as if it meant nothing. It was silly, ridiculous to think like that, but that’s what he’d thought. Hayley probably thought he was nuts. She couldn’t possibly know what had caused his reaction. He’d told her she could get rid of the wallpaper, after all, and she’d been doing exactly that. Lately he’d been wondering if he hadn’t loved Caroline enough. Had they simply paired off because so many in their circle of acquaintances already had? He’d loved her, yes, but he’d never felt that sizzle of heat he did when he was around Hayley. He’d never behaved like a love-struck teenager around Caroline, either. After Caroline’s death, he’d stumbled around in the dark for a long time,
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trying to deal with his inadequacies as a husband and potential father. Meeting Hayley was like having a light switch flicked on, dispensing with all those dark places, giving him a second chance to be the kind of man he wanted to be. From the moment she’d opened the door to him that first day it was as if he knew her in a way he’d never known Caroline. He’d have to try to explain this to Hayley. Somehow. But not right now.
By late afternoon, Hayley had finished stripping the wallpaper. She surveyed the bare walls with satisfaction. She’d made a game for Fletcher with a big grocery bag, challenging him to see how much of the old wallpaper he could stuff into it. He’d diligently gone after every bit of it, all the big and small pieces, some of which Hayley had to scrape off with a razor. She’d scrubbed the walls clean. Tomorrow she’d go to the Home Depot in Jannings Point and get some paint samples. She should probably get Ray’s approval before she bought the paint. Hopefully, he wouldn’t freak out on her again. She’d pondered his earlier behavior throughout the day but she couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation for it. Perhaps he’d had a traumatic wallpaper incident in his childhood. Since Fletcher had done such a good job helping her, she rewarded him with ice cream and a game of the now detested Candyland. Fletcher was addicted. Hayley was sick of it. But Fletch was such a good kid and so undemanding. She couldn’t tell him no. What she needed to do was find a few other games for a child his age to break up the monotony.
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Pretty soon she’d have to figure out what to feed him for dinner. Tuna fish sounded good. Or maybe egg salad. When she remembered to set the timer, she rescued the eggs before the water boiled out of the pan and they burned. Thank God they were almost to the end of the game. Hayley was antsy. She’d tried to simply let him win when he was ahead, but he insisted on drawing until he got the appropriate card to take his piece home. A knock at the door was the perfect excuse to end the game, though, and Hayley was prepared to be especially grateful to whoever was on the other side. When she opened the door, Ray held out an offering wrapped in plastic. Baffled, Hayley took it. She stepped back so Ray could come in. Fletcher ran to him and clutched his leg. Ray patted his shoulder. “Hey, buddy. Whatcha been doin’ today?” Ray transferred his attention back to Hayley. “I caught some fish. Thought maybe you’d like it for dinner.” “Oh, uh, thanks.” Hayley stared at the package. “Can I nuke it?” “No, don’t do that. You’ll ruin it. You can bread it and fry it up or wrap it in foil and grill it.” “I don’t have a grill.” “Broil it, then.” Hayley stared at him. She’d never quite got the hang of the broiler. “How do I bread it, exactly?” “Want me to cook it for you?” Hayley grinned at him. He didn’t seem mad or upset anymore. Maybe she should take up fishing. “Do you mind?” “Nope.” He took the package back from her and went into the kitchen. “You got any flour or bread crumbs? Cornmeal’s good, too.”
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After Fletcher went to sleep, Ray joined her on the porch, though he declined her offer of a beer. Hayley was used to drinking alone, and she had no intention of forgoing her glass of wine. She lit her candle and took a greedy gulp as soon as she sat down. She leaned her head back to stretch her neck muscles and stared up at the ceiling. She loved her quiet time. Usually, the street itself was still, even in the summer, as darkness descended. Perrish either didn’t believe in or didn’t have a budget for streetlights except on the main drag. The only artificial light came from houses or the occasional yard light. The warm, humid air wrapped around them, but the screen kept most of the bugs at bay. Even though her body always hummed with awareness whenever Ray was in close proximity, it dropped to controllable levels once she adjusted to his presence. She could sit next to him in companionable silence. Or she could start a conversation. “I can’t believe you agreed to play Candyland with Fletcher again. You’re his hero.” Ray answered with a soft chuckle. “Seriously, I dread that game almost as much as reading Green Eggs and Ham. I know he loves it, but it’s boring.” “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad.” Hayley eyed him in silent disagreement and took another sip of wine. “I like watching him,” Ray confessed. “The way he concentrates. He holds everything inside, but you can see in his eyes, or sometimes on his face when he’s excited or disappointed. Did you ever notice how he puts the card down in the stack after he’s played? He doesn’t like it if the pile gets messy.” “You’re something, you know that?” Hayley asked him softly.
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He swung his head her way in surprise. He shrugged, as if he didn’t quite believe her or didn’t know what she was talking about. She sat forward and leaned toward him. “You’re exactly what Fletcher needs. He adores you. You get him, somehow, in a way no one else does, whether he talks or not.” “I guess.” “What was that about?” Hayley asked, sensing she was making Ray uncomfortable with her talk of Fletcher. “When you left this morning?” “Oh. You noticed that, huh?” “You looked…I don’t know. Upset because I was tearing down the wallpaper.” “I was but not because of that.” “Sorry. It’s none of my business.” “Caroline picked out that wallpaper.” Hayley made no comment. She could hardly criticize his dead wife’s decorating choices. “Right after we bought this place. We were fixing it up, painting and stuff before we rented this side out. She got that wallpaper on sale.” What a shock. “And when I saw you in there, all of a sudden, I remembered the day we hung it. You were tearing it down, and I don’t know. I looked at all that wallpaper on the floor, and it was like pieces of my memories of her that weren’t worth anything anymore. Just a bunch of shredded paper.” “Oh, Ray. I’m sorry.” “It’s okay. I’m over it now.” They sat in silence for a few minutes before Hayley ventured another comment. “But that was some butt ugly wallpaper.”
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“I know,” Ray agreed. “I always hated it.”
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Chapter Seventeen
Whenever she could, Hayley picked up extra exercise classes to teach on the weekends. Fletcher was good about entertaining himself in the back of the room for the duration of a class, and she could easily keep an eye on him. Every little bit of extra money helped, so if other instructors were unavailable, Hayley took their classes. She’d had two this Saturday morning, and after the second one, Pablo Estevez, the director of the Y, waylaid her. “Do you have a minute?” he asked her when they met in the broad corridor that ran the length of the building. One end opened into the double gymnasium where youth basketball games were in progress that morning. The other led out to the swimming pool where a meet was underway. Between the two were the reception area, locker rooms and the workout facility. Saturdays were busy days at the Y. “Sure,” Hayley answered him. “I’ve got some ideas, sparked, as a matter of fact, by those cheerleading classes you taught.” “You do?” Pablo nodded. “I’m thinking some sort of fitness academy directed specifically at young girls. Dance, cheerleading, nutrition, that kind of thing. I’d like to meet with you sometime in the next couple of weeks to discuss it, see what you think.”
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“Okay. Sure.” Surely Pablo knew more about the kind of program he had in mind than she did, but if he wanted to talk to her about it, she’d be happy to sit down with him. “Great. I’ll be in touch.” It was almost one o’clock when she arrived home with Fletcher. Outside it was hot and sticky, but inside the A/C hummed to keep the air at a comfortable seventy-eight degrees. In the kitchen, Hayley poured a glass of lemonade and began to make lunch for herself and Fletcher. But her attention was snagged by a construction project going on in the backyard. Hayley stared at Ray and Roscoe, who were working together to build what looked like a smaller version of the same swingset the local park had on its playground. There were stacks of pressure-treated lumber in various sizes and lengths. A curved yellow slide lay wrapped in plastic nearby. There were more miscellaneous pieces sorted and scattered around the perimeter. Roscoe’s white pickup truck was parked close by with its tailgate down and its toolbox open. Fletcher pressed his nose to the sliding glass door. When Hayley came to stand by him, he looked up at her. He switched his attention back to the construction project and slapped his hands against the glass. Another sound, something between a sigh and a grunt, escaped him. Hayley wondered if the occasional sounds he made could be considered progress, even though actual words never passed his lips. He had no problem making his wishes known even without the gift of speech. She unlocked the door and the two of them stepped out. Ray had his shirt off, and Hayley had to remember to close her mouth to contain the extra salivation that sight caused. All her brain seemed able to process was the vision he presented of chest and shoulder muscles, tanned skin and a sheen of perspiration. Army green
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cargo shorts rode below his waist, giving her a peek of the elastic band of his boxers. She had a sudden, vivid image of one of those caveman cartoons. She’d club Ray and take him back to her cavern and do with him as she wished. Whoa, girl, get a grip, she warned herself. You will do no such thing. “Hi there,” she managed as she approached. “This looks like quite a project.” Roscoe, shirtless as well, but mostly covered by his trademark overalls, glanced at her and grinned. “You got that right. We decide to build a swing set, it ain’t gonna be any old swing set. Oh no, we got the top of the line, biggest badass—oops—” he glanced sheepishly in Fletcher’s direction, “—biggest, baddest swing set money can buy.” “Quit whining and hold that crossbar still,” Ray admonished him. Ray went at the bolts with some kind of electrical tool that drove the bolts home in seconds. He stopped and wiped the sweat from his brow before turning to Hayley. “What do you think?” Hayley gazed at the partially completed structure. Thick, solid wood posts were sunk in cement at various intervals. Surely the finished structure would be taller than she was. It already resembled the ones she’d seen in a few other backyards, complete with a fort and a circular slide. “It seems…big,” she finished uncertainly. Ray shrugged, as if her lack of enthusiasm didn’t bother him. “Yeah, well, I figure if you’re going to do it, you might as well do it right.” He gazed down at Fletcher. “What do you think, Fletch? Pretty cool, huh? Or it will be when it’s finished.” Fletcher stared. First at Ray, then at the wood skeleton. His eyes were huge. “Trust me. You’ll like it when it’s all done.” “You’re doing this—building this—for Fletcher?”
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“Sure.” “But—but—it’s too much. It’s so big. It’s not like we’re going to be here forever,” Hayley blurted out. Ray gave her an assessing look as if he didn’t quite believe her. “Yeah, well. I’ve got a niece who can use it. And another niece or nephew on the way. I expect they’ll stick around for a while.” Whether he meant to or not, Ray’s words gave Hayley the sense that she’d been put in her place. Had she given him the wrong impression? That there was some kind of future for them? That she and Fletcher were going to be here permanently? No. Surely not. She hadn’t done or said anything to make him believe that. If Ray was building such a scenario in his head, that’s the only place it existed. “I got Fletcher something too. I hope it’s okay,” Ray said. He stepped away to reach into the passenger area of the truck and then returned. He showed it to Fletcher and Hayley. “It’s a tee ball set, with a sponge ball so you can play it inside. See? Just set the ball on top of the tee and swing.” His gaze caught Hayley’s. “I thought it’d be a nice break from Candyland. Besides, he needs to learn to play baseball. Won’t hurt to start now.” Fletcher took the plastic-encased package from Ray and stared at it. “It’s fun, buddy. I’ll come over and play it with you later, okay?” Fletcher nodded enthusiastically then tilted his head back to look up at both of them. “What do you say, Fletch?” Hayley asked. Without letting go of the package, Fletcher hugged Ray, garbling something unintelligible and barely audible in the back of his throat. Ray patted his shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
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“Can I get you guys some lemonade?” Perspiration beaded Hayley’s upper lip and trickled down the front of her sports bra. Though a mature maple tree provided shade, Ray and Roscoe couldn’t have picked a hotter day than today to put a swingset together. “That’d be great. Thanks.” Hayley went back inside and poured lemonade into two plastic cups filled with ice. She shouldn’t have let Ray kiss her that night. Let him kiss her? Ha! Like she’d done nothing but stand there with her mouth closed. Like she’d resisted him at all. Okay, she had. A little bit. At first. But then, oh, she didn’t know what had happened. He got to her. He got to her on so many levels, and now here he was adopting puppies, building swing sets and believing in forever. “Nope,” she said aloud as she returned the pitcher of lemonade to the shelf in the refrigerator. “There’s no such thing as forever.” Whether Ray wanted to believe it or not.
The Fourth of July dawned with a glaring sun, and during the day temperatures soared once again into the nineties. By early evening, the heat had dissipated somewhat and the celebratory gathering at the county park in Jannings Point was well under way. Ray had invited Hayley and Fletcher to join him for the cookout, which was like one big neighborhood tailgate party, and for the fireworks display after. Rick and his family were there, as was Molly’s friend Hannah and her parents, whom Hayley had met before. Roscoe came with Callie Maxwell and Jasmine, of course. There was obvious friction between Roscoe’s girlfriend and daughter, but Ray knew he wouldn’t miss this annual tradition. It looked like Roscoe and Callie had decided to ignore Jasmine’s sulkiness and enjoy the day.
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There were lots of other people there that Ray knew. He’d lived in Perrish practically his whole life, and his business was there as well as Rick’s and Roscoe’s. Since they’d all graduated from Jannings Point High School, it stood to reason they had lots of acquaintances. Things had started out well enough, although he was sure Hayley had been a bit taken aback to see her social worker in a social setting, though Callie had done what she could to put Hayley at ease. Ray introduced Hayley to some of the other people who stopped by their small enclave. Molly and her friends took Fletcher under their wings, making him part of their group and generally fussing over him like mother hens. The food was almost ready and Rick, Ray and Roscoe ambled toward the playground to retrieve the kids. “Hey, you guys, let’s go wash up so we can eat,” Rick called to them. Molly and two of her friends, Hannah and April, clambered down from the fort attached to the swingset. Fletcher, who’d been rocking back and forth on an oversized duck set on a huge, coiled spring, slid off and ran toward Ray. “Hey, buddy.” Fletcher wrapped his arms around Ray’s legs and stared up at him until Ray picked him up. Roscoe gazed around at the playground, where several other children played or were gathered in groups. “Where’s Jasmine?” “I don’t know,” Molly replied. Roscoe swung his gaze back to her. “She’s supposed to be here keeping an eye on you guys.” Molly shrugged. “She was for a while. Then she started talking to a couple of other girls. They brought her something to drink and they all left.” “They left?” Roscoe’s voice boomed in disbelief and outrage.
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Molly sidled closer to Rick. “There were two boys waiting for them,” she added in a small voice. “Boys? What boys?” Molly’s lower lip trembled. Rick drew her close. “Roscoe, calm down,” he warned. He hunkered next to Molly. “You’re not in trouble. Roscoe’s not mad at you. We’re worried about Jasmine, okay? Now, she went off with these girls and two boys?” Molly nodded, her gaze fixed on Rick. “Did you see which way they went? Did they say anything?” Molly shook her head, her dark hair swinging to and fro. “No. They were laughing a lot and acting weird.” “Did you recognize the other girls? Or the boys?” “Uh-uh.” “How long ago was this?” Roscoe stamped his feet like an impatient bull while Rick questioned Molly. He wanted answers and he wanted them now. “I don’t know. We were on the swings. We went on the big slide.” She turned to Ray. “I helped Fletcher climb up, and I came down with him so he wouldn’t be scared.” “Thanks, Molly. I’m sure he liked that.” Ray caught Roscoe’s glare at this interruption in the questioning. Rick glanced up at Roscoe then returned his attention to Molly. “Can you describe the girls, honey? What did they look like? What were they wearing? “One had on a halter top. She had big…um, boobs.” Her companions giggled. “And big earrings, and short shorts. Red ones. Her butt was hanging out a little bit.” This sent all the girls off into peals of laughter.
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“That sounds like that girl Renee,” Roscoe muttered. “I told Jasmine she a bad apple.” “Okay, Molly. Molly.” Rick got Molly’s attention once again. “What about the other girl?” Molly shrugged. “I don’t know. Not very pretty. Kind of fat. But she had really shiny hair. Black hair.” Rick nodded. “Do you remember what she was wearing?” “I think like a white shirt.” She looked to April and Hannah for confirmation. “And a jeans skirt.” “She had a lot of makeup on too,” April put in. “Blue eyeshadow. Yuck!” “Okay, what about the boys? Do you remember anything about them? “One had a shaved head. But I didn’t look at their clothes. Boys’ clothes are boring,” Molly informed the group. Rick straightened. “That help you at all? Any idea who the other kids are?” he asked Roscoe. “No, but I’m going to call Sharla.” He already had his cell phone out to auto dial Jasmine’s mother. “Maybe she knows.” He stalked off and started to talk. Ray looked at Rick. “Why don’t you take the kids back? I’ll see if I can help him find her.” He set Fletcher on his feet. “You go with Molly, okay, Fletch? I’ll see you in a little bit.” It didn’t take long for him and Roscoe to track Jasmine and the other kids down. They were sprawled under the shade of a giant sycamore on the far side of the parking lot. The two boys scrambled to their feet and took off into the brush that bordered the park. If he’d been that age and a guy like Roscoe was coming at him, he’d have taken off too.
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Roscoe ignored the other two girls completely. He focused all his attention on his daughter. Without a word, he got her on her feet and frog-marched her across the parking lot. Ray lagged behind, embarrassed for Jasmine who he’d known since infancy. They were halfway across the parking lot when Jasmine stopped. With her father still gripping her elbow, she bent forward and was violently sick. Roscoe swore and muttered under his breath the entire time. Eventually they made it to the women’s restroom, and Jasmine disappeared inside. Not sure what else to do, Ray offered to get Callie. Roscoe looked mildly troubled by that suggestion but then he nodded. A short time later, Hayley approached the women’s restroom to discover Roscoe pacing back and forth several feet away. She stopped short when she saw his expression. She’d seen Ray say something to Callie earlier and noticed that Roscoe, Jasmine and Callie hadn’t returned to eat with everyone else. “Roscoe? Is everything okay?” “Yeah. I think so.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Jasmine’s in there. Callie’s with her.” Hayley frowned. “But they’re all right?” “Yeah. I think so.” Hayley’s bladder sent her another signal. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to interrupt whatever’s going on in there, but—” Roscoe waved a hand at her. “Go on. It won’t make no difference.” Hayley opened the door and tiptoed in. She could hear the murmur of voices from behind one of the stall doors. She sped as noiselessly as she could across the tile to the furthest stall. Silly, she admonished herself. She could walk softly, but she couldn’t pee silently. They’d know someone else was in here.
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“You feel better now?” Callie’s distinctive, slightly husky voice queried in a gentle tone. There was no reply, but a toilet flushed. “You gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?” Callie asked. “So I can tell your daddy? Or you want to tell him yourself?” A tear-laden but defiant voice, which had to be Jasmine’s, replied, “You wouldn’t understand. Nobody understands.” Hayley cringed in spite of herself. How well she could remember feeling the same way during her teen years. She’d had no one she could talk to, no one, she was sure, who would understand what she was going through or how she felt. She still felt that way a lot of the time, in fact. It was easier to keep everything inside when you didn’t think anyone cared or would understand. “How ’bout I guess and you tell me if I come close?” Callie offered. Again no reply. Hayley could imagine Jasmine’s response. A shrug of the shoulders probably that meant I don’t care. Go ahead. “You don’t like it your parents aren’t together. That’s first off. They both workin’ all the time and you think they ain’t got time for you. Then you think maybe they don’t love you. Or else they don’t love you enough. “You don’t like school too much. Middle school sucks. Girls you were friends with since kindergarten won’t speak to you. They turn mean, tease you, make fun of you. You start lookin’ for someplace you can fit in. “You think you’re a freak, even though you’re tall and pretty, and when you grow up all the way you’re going to be a knockout. That’s my assessment, by the way, that’s not what you’re thinkin’ at all. “You think you’ll be cool if you start doing some stuff with some kids you don’t like and you don’t know very well, just because they’re willing to include you. These kids are into drinkin’ and smoking, probably drugs and sex too. Little
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punks, pretty soon they’ll be stealing cars and turning tricks. And you’ll go along with them because you want to belong somewhere, for someone to tell you you’re okay. “How am I doing so far?” Wow, she’s good, Hayley thought. Callie had pretty much nailed the road Steffie had taken, and one Hayley herself might have traveled if cheerleading hadn’t saved her. Jasmine mumbled something Hayley couldn’t hear but she could hear Callie’s reply. “I know because when I was your age, I felt the same way. Your dad did too. Everybody has those feelings. Even those girls that used to be your friends who act like they don’t want to be friends with you no more. You think you’re the only one, but you’re not. “Your parents love you even if you don’t think so. Your daddy, in fact, is crazy about you, and if you wasn’t so pathetic right now I’d kick your butt for what you put him through today. “You want to hate me for doing my job, for taking your friend Serena someplace safe where her momma’s boyfriends can’t get at her, you go right ahead and hate me. That’s what I do. I look out for kids when their parents don’t. And believe me, Serena’s momma wasn’t looking out for her, which I think you know already. “I got some news for you. I’m plumb crazy about your daddy, and I’m not goin’ nowhere, so you better get used to it. Now what you think about that?” Callie’s voice had lost some of its softness, but the concern underneath her words echoed clearly through the tiled space. Hayley could barely hear Jasmine’s reply. “Okay, I guess.”
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Chapter Eighteen
Fireworks exploded over the lake, but Ray barely noticed. He was too aware of the weight of Fletcher sitting in his lap, leaning back against his chest, mostly silent but clearly awestruck. Occasionally, the boy gestured, or turned to look at Ray as if for confirmation that what he was seeing was visible to all. Ray smiled and whispered, “I see.” Then Fletcher would turn back to watch the next display with an exclamatory sigh. As if Fletcher weren’t enough of a distraction, Hayley proved to be even more of one. Ray had no idea what happened after Jasmine got into trouble by going off with a couple of other kids and sampling whatever it was they were drinking. Ray sincerely hoped that alcohol was all she had sampled. Looking chastened and pale, she finally returned to the group, escorted by Callie and Roscoe. Roscoe hadn’t taken Jasmine home, although she whined and begged him to. Instead he told her she could stay whether she wanted to or not. It was her own fault she felt lousy. Silently, Ray applauded Roscoe’s decision. Jasmine had made a mistake and he was forcing her to suffer the consequences instead of letting her off the hook. Jasmine’s café au lait complexion had turned ashy, and she refused to eat. Instead, she sat in a chair nursing a bottle of water and ignored the activity swirling around her. Even Molly’s well-meaning inquiries and concern were rebuffed with an annoyed, “Leave me alone.”
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As the evening progressed, Ray sensed Hayley withdrawing bit by bit. She socialized, smiled, helped with the food, but something told Ray she wasn’t all there. She seemed…oh, he didn’t know what the word for it was. Wistful, maybe. A little sad. During the fireworks, she’d positioned her chair slightly in front of his, so he’d been able to observe her without her noticing. Her gaze flickered between Rick and Kaylee, Roscoe and Callie and Hannah’s parents, Tara and Tim. Was that what was bothering her? That they were each part of a couple? And she…wasn’t? God knew watching Rick and Kaylee together was enough to nauseate anyone. They were so damned in love, so connected. Ray was pretty certain Roscoe and Callie were heading in the same direction. Even Tara and Tim, after ten or twelve years together, were pretty affectionate with each other. Maybe he’d gotten his signals crossed. He’d thought Hayley wasn’t ready to be part of a couple. Hadn’t she as much as told him that? And wasn’t that why he’d backed off that night he’d kissed her on her porch? He sure wanted to do more. Then as well as now. But he’d thought he should wait. He thought that’s what she wanted him to do. But now he wasn’t sure.
“You okay?” he asked Hayley as they made their way back to the car. Fletcher snuggled against Ray’s shoulder, worn out from running around on the playground earlier and the fireworks display that had begun well after his normal bedtime. “Fine,” Hayley replied.
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Uh oh. Ray knew that particular tone of voice women used to assure a man everything was fine when it wasn’t. “Bull,” he whispered as they approached the car. He dug his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the vehicle. Fletcher protested groggily before settling into his car seat. “What’s wrong?” he asked as they got into the line of cars exiting the park. “Nothing.” “Is it Rick and Kaylee?” Hayley sighed. “No.” There was something bothering her though, Ray thought triumphantly. Pretty soon he’d be able to read Hayley like an open book. “I don’t know. It’s everything. It’s seeing other couples together, it’s wondering where I went off track. Not only with Trey, with my whole life. Pablo wants to talk to me about setting up some kind of cheerleading academy at the Y.” Ray knew Pablo was Pablo Estevez, the director of the YMCA where Hayley worked. He’d graduated from Jannings High two years ahead of Ray. “I don’t know exactly what he’s got in mind, but it’s more than cheerleading, like a physical fitness academy for girls. Dance, cheerleading, gymnastics. Nutrition, self-esteem. He’s got all kinds of ideas.” “And he wants you to head it up? Smart guy.” Hayley turned to look at him. “I didn’t say he wants me to head it up. We haven’t discussed it in any kind of detail. Besides, I’m hardly qualified to be in charge of anything.” Ray’s gaze flickered her way before he concentrated on the traffic situation once again. “I disagree. You’ve got the background for it. You’d be
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good at it. That’s the kind of thing that could help girls like Jasmine, don’t you think?” Hayley sighed again and turned to gaze out the window. She’d been thinking about girls like Jasmine all evening. How easy it was for kids that age to succumb to peer pressure, especially if they didn’t get what they needed at home. Even if she could safely adopt him, she tried to imagine raising Fletcher on her own. What would she do when he was a rebellious teenager and started down that slippery slope? She’d be on her own with no one to back her up or help her. In spite of her doubt in her own abilities, she’d been thinking about the kind of program Pablo had outlined. She could see the possibilities. Certainly she could relate to how such a program could help young girls in the community. Comparing it with what Paige did in L.A. was like comparing apples with filet mignon. Paige worked with a lot of celebrities, designing personal fitness and nutrition programs. Her gym wasn’t a mere gym. It was more like a spa that offered all kinds of classes—dance, yoga, tai chi, aerobics, kickboxing. Members were offered appointments for massage therapy, facials and other skin treatments. A retail outlet offered organic foods, nutritional supplements and her signature line of workout gear. Paige had expanded her empire to include an online membership program, a series of thirty-minute DVDs and weekly spots on the top-rated L.A. morning show. No doubt about it, Paige had a lot on her plate, and she hadn’t offered Hayley a job out of pity, but out of necessity. She needed someone she could trust, and who understood the way she worked, to take some of the load off her. The idea of relocating to L.A. to escape her past held immense appeal. But Hayley wondered now how fulfilling the work itself would actually be. Would
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she be impacting anyone’s life in a positive way? Or would she simply be helping to make the beautiful people more beautiful? “Are you going to tell me what’s bugging you,” Ray asked, glancing at her again, “or are you going to make me keep asking?” She shook her head. “It’s everything and it’s nothing. When I figure it out, I’ll let you know. There’s really no point to discussing this program at the Y, since I’ll be moving to L.A. anyway.” Ray cleared his throat and coughed a couple of times, but he didn’t say anything. Once they were home, Ray carried Fletcher to his bed. The boy barely protested the change of venue, but clutched the ragged bear when Hayley put it next to him and covered him with the sheet. Ray dragged his feet toward the door with Hayley trailing behind him. He wondered if she knew how much he didn’t want to leave. It wasn’t late. A little after eleven. But she hadn’t suggested he stay. He got to the door but instead of opening it he turned around to face her. He’d hug her good-bye. That was all he’d do. Maybe a little peck on the cheek. When she looked at him he thought, Screw it. Maybe she thought she was on her way to L.A., but he was going to do everything he could think of to change her mind. He threw caution to the wind, stepped toward her, cupped her head in his hands and gave her a real kiss. On the mouth. Like before, he could sense her initial reaction to resist. She held back her instinctive response again, but this time he wasn’t going to let her get away with it. He moved closer and purposely deepened the kiss. Her lips parted, and his whole body went rigid at that small triumph. It wasn’t going to be enough. Not tonight.
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He kissed her until she grew pliant and accepting before he maneuvered her to the sofa and sank down on it with her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and in seconds he had her where he’d been wanting her for weeks. Underneath him. Warm and willing. Kissing Hayley intoxicated him. She was firm and vibrant. Even her hair had a thickness and healthiness so much different than Caroline’s wispy strands. No. He wasn’t going to think about Caroline. He wasn’t going to make comparisons. Hard to say when things changed. He kissed her and she responded. When he nuzzled her neck, trailed his tongue down along her collar bone, she gasped in response. He moved on to the tiny bit of cleavage available, exploring with his lips and tongue while his fingers loosened the buttons of her blouse. Second base came the ridiculous thought. Like he was in high school all over again, making it with a girl for the first time. But then again, it had been so long, it sort of did feel like the first time. For sure it was the first time with Hayley, and he wasn’t going to rush through it. He was going to savor and enjoy and make it last, make it memorable. Make it good. For both of them. While he was trying to figure out if her bra had a front or back clasp, she burst into tears. Not exactly the response he’d been looking for. She wiggled around to get out from under him. He sat up and let her. She sat for a minute weeping. Ray didn’t quite know what to do or what to say. Although it had been a long time since he’d made love or attempted to make love to a woman who wasn’t his wife, he couldn’t recall one ever bursting into tears simply because he’d unbuttoned her top. “Are you okay?” he finally ventured, kicking himself for asking such a stupid question. Obviously, she was not okay.
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“I need a tissue.” Hayley rose and went into the bathroom. He thought he heard her mutter “Dammit” before she came out of the bathroom and went into her bedroom. When she did not reappear, Ray followed. He found her sitting on the edge of her fluffy pink-and-white bed, dabbing at her nose while tears continued to leak from her eyes, drip down her cheeks and onto her still-unbuttoned shirt. She’d turned on the small lamp on the nightstand. He leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest, chewing the inside of his lip, having no idea what to do. Should he stay? Should he go? Should he ask what was wrong? “Looks like I’ve lost my touch,” he finally said. That brought a gurgling chuckle out of her. She shook her head. “It’s not you. It’s me. I’m such a mess. I wish I could make you understand.” He came toward her. “Try me.” He sat down on the bed next to her, nudging her with his arm. That had the effect of bringing on more tears. “Stop being nice to me. It makes it worse.” He reached across her and grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on the nightstand and mopped at her face. “Frankly, I’m not sure how it can be any worse.” She tried to smile, failed, turned and buried her face in his chest. Ray’s arms came around her, and he smoothed her tumbled hair. After a bit he said, “Come here.” He scooted up on the bed to the pillows, and she came with him. He wanted to keep her snuggled against him, but she moved away and lay facing him, her head on the other pillow, her hands tucked up under her chin. At least the tears had stopped.
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“Why didn’t you run when you had the chance?” she asked. “That’s what most guys do when a woman turns on the tears.” “Hey, I survived your burnt frozen pizza and the migraine headache. You don’t think a few tears are going to scare me off, do you? A tough guy like me?” He pounded his chest for emphasis. “Maybe you’re a sucker for a damsel in distress,” Hayley suggested softly. “Maybe I am.” It was easier to agree with her than argue. Maybe she saw herself as a damsel in distress, but that wasn’t what he saw when he looked at her. He saw someone tough and smart struggling to get through every day. Someone who wouldn’t give up even when she wanted to. Someone who would do the right thing no matter what it cost her personally. Besides, Hayley seemed to have forgotten what every damsel in distress needed. A hero. He’d had that chance once before and he’d failed. He’d be damned if he’d fail again. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or are you going to keep stalling?” She smiled at him. She actually smiled. Her tears dried up as if they’d never been there. Her eyes sparkled, the lashes spiked and damp. He leaned forward and kissed her slightly parted lips. He wanted her to trust him. He wanted her to be able to be honest with him. Because if he’d learned one thing from his past, it was that without honesty and trust, any relationship was a sham. He wanted something real with Hayley. And if that meant getting her to bare her soul to him, she’d have to do it. Assuming she wanted the same thing, that is. They were lying face-to-face, inches apart. She looked into his eyes. “I had the biggest crush on you in high school.”
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Whoa. What? “In high school?” “Oh yeah. Beginning my freshman year. You were a junior. You didn’t know I was alive. But every time I saw you, the ripple effect hit me.” “The what?” “The ripple effect. It’s this feeling that runs through me, makes me all tingly inside. Starts in my tummy and sort of ripples out from there. Makes my brain turn to mush. I can hardly talk or think.” Ray grinned, delighted. “I have that effect on you?” Hayley nodded. “Scares the hell out of me.” Ray’s grin vanished. “Why?” “Because I only ever felt that with one other guy.” “Oh wait, let me guess. Your ex-husband.” Hayley nodded. “I was completely head over heels in love with him. I lost all perspective. In fact, I think I lost myself.” “Until he pulled the rug out from under you.” Hayley nodded again. “I was lost. I had nothing and no one and I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t. It’s been over a year since my divorce was final and I…and I—” Her eyes filled with tears again. “I feel like such a failure. How can I be so clueless?” Ray reached over and pushed strands of her hair over her shoulder. He took the crumpled wad of tissues he’d dropped on the comforter and dabbed at her fresh tears. Hayley sighed. “That first day, when you came to the door?” Ray nodded. He remembered it well. “I knew who you were. The ripple effect hit me and all I could think was, ‘Oh no, not again. I’m not doing this again. I know better.’” “Your ex-husband taught you well, huh?”
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When Hayley didn’t say anything, Ray asked her another question. “But there’s one thing you’re forgetting. Do you know what it is?” Hayley shook her head. “I’m not your ex-husband.” “I know you’re not,” Hayley told him quietly. “But I’m still me.” She wondered if that would make any sense to him. Probably not. He was a guy, after all. Guys didn’t get that kind of female mumbo jumbo. “So you’re afraid of making the same mistake, let’s say with me, that you made with him.” “Sort of.” “Because of this ripple effect thing?” “Sort of. But it’s more than that. I had all these plans with my friend Paige when we were in college. We were going to start a business together after we graduated, but it never happened because I let my relationship with Trey get in the way. I dropped out of school, but Paige graduated and put her company together without me. I’ve got a chance to start over by moving to L.A. and working with her. I finally have a plan and I’m going to stick to it. I don’t want to let anyone mess it up for me again. And right now, it’s like déjà vu all over again.” “Except for one thing,” Ray reminded her. “I know. You’re not him.” “No. I’m not. He was an idiot to throw away what he had with you. I wouldn’t.” “But I didn’t think he would, either,” Hayley said softly.
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“So you were wrong once; that means you’re guaranteed to be wrong every time? No one ever gets a chance with you because you might end up getting hurt again?” “I didn’t say that.” Ray didn’t bother to hide his annoyance. “Yeah, you sorta did.” “What do you want me to do, Ray? Set myself up for another fall? I’m telling you I know myself. And I know I won’t survive it again. I’m barely getting by after the first time.” “And I’m telling you I wouldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t hurt you. I wouldn’t walk away.” “But what if I end up hurting you? What if I’m the one that walks away?” “I don’t think you will. But that’s a chance I’m willing to take.” “But I’m not ready to take that chance. No matter how much I might want to. I’m not there yet.” “Then I’ll wait.” “You’ll wait?” Hayley’s smile lit up the room. “For how long?” “As long as it takes,” Ray told her stubbornly. She leaned over and kissed him on the lips then snuggled closer to him, and he welcomed her. She settled her head in the crook of his arm, her arm curved across his chest. He played with her hair, lifting up individual strands and letting them fall. “You know, you’re not the only person here who’s had a tough time.” “I know. But you’re not as scared of it happening again as I am.” “The hell I’m not!” She slanted her gaze up at him. “You sure don’t act like it.” He grinned at her. “I told you before, I’m a tough guy.” “Yeah, you are,” she agreed, patting his chest. “In here, where it counts.”
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He picked up her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “I’ll make you a deal, okay? I won’t give up on you. And you’re not allowed to give up on yourself. What do you say?” “Hmm. Deal.” He could barely hear her. She was falling asleep. He let go of her hand and slid down a little further on the pillow so he could wrap one arm more securely around her. Surprising himself, he fell asleep too.
When Hayley woke the next morning, the first thing she saw was a man next to her. Ray. Memories of the previous evening flooded back, and she smiled at him even though he was sound asleep. She could see traces of the teenage boy she’d worshiped from afar in his relaxed expression. His hair made a dark slash against the pink and white pillow. He looked more manly than usual with her feminine, frilly bedclothes as a backdrop. She’d encouraged Ray last night, and she shouldn’t have. She didn’t know why, but it made her feel good to know that he believed in her, that he’d wait for her. But he shouldn’t. And she shouldn’t let him. Because she wasn’t going to stay here. She had a plan, she reminded herself. A good one. Stick to the plan! She eased off the mattress. She was still dressed, her clothes a mass of wrinkles from sleeping in them, but she didn’t care. She buttoned her shirt as she tiptoed down the hall. Fletcher was still asleep so she went into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. She’d poured the first cup when she heard a knock on the door. She peeped through the sidelight to see Callie Maxwell on her doorstep. Great. Another one of Callie’s unscheduled visits. Hayley was sure the random visits were to give the social worker an opportunity to catch her clients off-guard.
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It didn’t give them time to clean the house or hide anything they wouldn’t want her to see. She opened the door because she had no other choice. “Good morning.” “Good morning, Miz Christopher.” Callie looked her up and down, taking in her disheveled appearance. They were back to formalities. When Callie was Roscoe’s girlfriend, they were on a first-name basis. But in her capacity as a DCW social worker, they were not. Hayley wondered if Callie would notice she was wearing the same outfit she’d had on yesterday at the park, or that she hadn’t yet bothered to run a brush through her hair. Not much seemed to escape the social worker’s keen gaze. “I have coffee. Would you like a cup?” Hayley was determined to be her most gracious. She had nothing to hide. If she couldn’t pass muster for DCW, they’d remove Fletcher from her care sooner rather than later. Then she’d have no reason not to move forward with her relocation plan. “Yes, thank you.” Callie followed her inside. Hayley went to the kitchen, feeling the woman’s gaze follow her and take in her surroundings at the same time. There were a few dirty dishes in the sink. She needed to run a vacuum over the living area carpeting. Fletcher’s Legos and Lincoln Logs were haphazardly piled on the coffee table, and several of his little trucks were scattered across the sofa. “Please have a seat. Do you need cream or sugar?” “A touch of cream, please,” Callie replied. She moved some of the toys aside and sat. Hayley glanced at the clock on the stove. It was barely eight a.m. Talk about a wake-up call.
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She set Callie’s coffee on the table in front of her. Callie removed a file from her stuffed case and opened it. “How are things going? How is Fletcher doing?” “He’s fine. You saw him at the park yesterday and—” Hayley’s words ground to a halt as Ray appeared, his clothes as wrinkled as hers, his flip-flops dangling from his fingers. Callie turned around to see what had snagged Hayley’s interest. Ray halted the moment he realized what he’d walked into. His gaze briefly clashed with Hayley’s. Then he seemed to make a decision. He came into the room like he owned it, which he did, and greeted the social worker. “Ms. Maxwell, isn’t it? Great to see you.” He shook her hand. She stared at him, her expression a mixture of bemusement and disapproval. “Mr. Braddock.” Ray dropped his flip-flops and stepped into them. “Well, hey, I have to get going. I need to let Oscar out.” He glanced at Hayley. “Thanks for…uh, last night was…I have to go.” Hayley watched the door close behind him. She turned back to Callie and smiled weakly. Callie raised her eyebrows as if hoping Hayley would say something, but Hayley had learned one thing from going through a nasty divorce. Never volunteer anything. Give direct answers to direct questions. If she tried to explain her relationship with Ray, well, she wouldn’t be able to. And she was pretty sure Callie wouldn’t believe her if she said Ray had spent the night in her bed but nothing had happened. Callie scribbled something on one of the pages in her file. She glanced back up at Hayley. “I’d like to take a look around, if that’s all right.” “Sure. Fletcher’s still asleep.” “I won’t disturb him.” Callie hauled herself up and walked down the hall.
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Hayley went back to the kitchen and rinsed the dishes in the sink and put them in the dishwasher. Callie wouldn’t find anything objectionable, she was sure. An unmade bed. A relatively clean bathroom. She kept Fletcher’s bedroom as neat as possible. She wasn’t slovenly. Fletcher had a decent home. If there was a big question mark in her file because of Ray’s presence here this morning, well, too bad. Ray was a good influence on Fletcher. Fletcher loved him. He’s a good influence on me too, Hayley decided. He didn’t judge her. Didn’t expect her to be anyone except who she was. He was loyal, probably to a fault. He’d stuck it out through her teary breakdown last night. And then there’s the ripple effect. Don’t forget the ripple effect. Oh yeah. Every time she saw him, that feeling that had her leaning toward him without even moving a muscle. Too bad if Callie Maxwell didn’t like it. Too bad if she didn’t understand how tough it was to try and make a home for a little boy all by herself and to be scrutinized by the state every step of the way. Hayley was viciously scrubbing the sink while her thoughts went round and round. When Callie spoke, she jumped in surprise. “Everything looks fine. You can relax, you know. I don’t bite.” Hayley eased her grip on the sponge and set it aside. She eyed the woman, trying to determine her intent. She went back to the sofa and her cooling cup of coffee. Hayley resumed her seat across from her. “How much time does Fletcher spend with Ray?” Hayley hesitated. “He’s—Ray’s around a lot. We’ve become—” What? Good friends? Close? Yes, both of those, but neither description defined what was between her and Ray. “What?” Callie asked. She took a sip of her coffee.
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Hayley shrugged. “It’s hard to describe. But Ray’s around a lot. Fletcher adores him. Ray got a puppy from the pound. A boxer he named Oscar.” “After Oscar de le Hoya.” Callie grinned. “Cute.” Hayley nodded. “He lets Fletcher help him with the dog. They go on walks. Fletch goes over in the afternoons when Ray gets home, hangs out with him for a little while before dinner.” “Are you and Ray dating?” Hayley squirmed. She and Ray had never been on a date. “Not exactly. Not in the traditional sense.” “Uh huh.” Callie scribbled something else in her file. Fletcher chose that moment to make an appearance. He had his beat-up teddy bear clutched in one hand and the yellow foam-covered bat Ray had bought him in the other. Every night he set the foam ball on the nightstand next to his bed and leaned the bat up against it. As Ray must have known it would, the bat and ball provided an enjoyable diversion from the nightly Candyland games. Ray coached Fletcher on the proper batting stance, praising him when he connected with the ball especially well. Hayley participated as well, knowing it was better than parking Fletcher in front of cartoons. When neither of them was available, Fletcher didn’t mind retrieving the ball for himself. Now he hesitated much the same way Ray had when he realized they had a visitor. “Hi, Fletch.” Hayley waved him over. “You want to come and sit by me? Miss Maxwell is here to visit us.” Dragging his bat alongside, Fletcher crawled up on the sofa close to Hayley and let her put an arm around him. She kissed the top of his head. She loved his rumpled little-boy look first thing in the morning. Hayley liked to think he didn’t quite have all his defenses aligned the moment he got out of bed. “How are you, Fletcher?” Callie asked softly. “It’s good to see you again.”
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Fletcher squeezed his bear and stared at the social worker. Imperceptibly, he moved closer to Hayley.
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Chapter Nineteen
Fletcher fell asleep after one Dr. Seuss book, and Hayley counted her blessings as she tucked the sheet around him and kissed his cheek. Whatever else went on inside his head, Fletcher wasn’t tormented by nightmares and ordinarily fell asleep quickly and slept through the night. In the kitchen, she prepared the next day’s lunches and tidied up from the simple meal she’d made earlier. She hadn’t seen Ray all day, except from the window when Fletcher had gone over to visit him and Oscar in the afternoon. For the past several days, Ray had given her lots of space. Maybe by now he’d thought better of whatever it was that had developed between them. Surely she had too much baggage for him to deal with no matter what he’d said the other night. He’d be right to run the other way. In fact, she should encourage him to do just that, because she didn’t want to string him along. She didn’t want to hurt him. Hayley reached for her bottle of wine after she stowed the lunch bags in the refrigerator. Maybe she’d forgo her cigarette tonight. For once it seemed like more trouble than it was worth to get the pack out of the high cabinet and unwrap it. She poured a glass of wine and headed for the door. Maybe Ray would join her for a little while. She missed him. No sooner had she seated herself than a car crept down the darkened street. It cruised past the mailbox at the end of the drive then braked and reversed. Hayley watched as it pulled into the driveway and parked behind her Mustang. Probably someone Ray knew. She didn’t recognize the car, and none of
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the few acquaintances she had locally would have reason to come visit her unannounced at this time of the night. The driver killed the engine and the lights. The door popped open, and the interior lights illuminated him for a moment before he exited the vehicle and closed the door. No. It couldn’t be. Hayley had dreamt of this moment. She’d thought about all the things she’d say, how glorious she would be as the wronged yet still noble party. But now her throat constricted. With trembling fingers, she set her wineglass on the nearby table. The driver approached the duplex and paused for a moment, but then must have made a decision and veered in her direction. She stayed where she was, in the dark, for she’d forgotten to bring matches to light her candle. He opened the screen door and let it fall shut behind him. He stood still, as if his eyes were still adjusting to the dim light. But he had to have seen her, or at least the outline of her. The weak interior light shone through the window. “Hayley?” “Trey.” Somehow she managed to keep her voice even. The trembling of a moment before had ceased. She waited for the ripple effect, because even though she’d been married to Trey, he never failed to affect her with his mere presence. Where was that heart-stopping flood of excitement? The adrenaline rush that started in the pit of her stomach and radiated to every limb and cell until she could hardly stand upright or think? It had been replaced, apparently, by a sort of cool detachment. She thought she’d known Trey, thought their love would last forever. But he’d taken
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it and trampled on it. Destroyed it. She didn’t know him at all. That must be why it was easy to treat him like a stranger. “Hey, honey. How have you been?” He advanced toward her. She looked up, and he must have seen a glint of warning in her eyes, even in the dark, because he halted. “What do you want, Trey?” Her tone surprised her. Cool. Detached. Slightly annoyed. It must have surprised Trey too, because he shuffled a bit and shoved his hands in his pockets, no longer sure of himself or his welcome. “I wanted to see you. Talk to you. I’ve missed you, honey.” Surprising herself again, Hayley laughed. Trey’s words were so ludicrous, such an outright, obvious lie, incredulous laughter was the only response she was capable of. When her laughter died, she picked up her wineglass and took a sip. She held it in both hands, her fingers caressing the stem and the bottom of the bowl. “What do you want, Trey?” “Can I sit down?” Hayley waved to the other chair. Could that be a trace of humility she heard in Trey’s voice? Unlikely. But still. “How are you?” He almost sounded sincere. “I’m fine. Great. Life’s a bowl of cherries. What do you want, Trey?” Hayley took another big sip of wine, a sense of recklessness sweeping through her. “Wow. You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you, darlin’?” Trey sent her one of his trademark “Aw shucks” grins and ran his fingers through his blond-tipped hair as if he were uncertain of the situation.
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Liar, Hayley wanted to say to him. It was all part of the Trey Christopher small-town-North-Carolina-boy-makes-good act. He’d been perfecting and perpetuating it for years. The press fell for it, as did every perky, nubile cheerleader over the age of eighteen. She’d merely been the first and the longestlasting in a succession of gullible women who fell for his act. She sipped her wine and said nothing. She’d be out here drinking her glass of wine whether Trey was here or not, she reminded herself. She was in no particular hurry to go in. Thank God, she’d learned to keep her mouth shut these past couple of years. Never say more than you have to, never give anything away. Let the other person do the talking. The less you say the better. “I want another chance,” Trey blurted out. Hayley turned to look at him. Her ears were ringing. She hadn’t heard him correctly. Another chance? With her? No. No way. He couldn’t possibly mean that. Probably he meant another chance at the pros. But why come and tell her? They were divorced. She no longer had anything to do with his decisions or his career. Besides, she thought his injuries had sidelined him for good. “Another chance to do what?” “To be with you.” It started as a sort of stunned giggle, a reaction to the shock of such a statement. But it turned into a full-out belly laugh Hayley couldn’t control. She laughed until she cried, tears streaming from her eyes. At some point, she thought she heard Ray’s front door open. She didn’t chance a look his way, but she thought she could feel his gaze boring through the screens separating them and across the distance between. Then she thought he went back inside, but she couldn’t be sure. “Hell, darlin’, how many glasses of wine have you had? I think you’ve hit your limit.”
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Trey reached for her glass. She held it more tightly. “Touch it and die,” she warned. His hand withdrew. “You sure are cold, darlin’. What say we go inside and see if I can warm you up?” “Are you insane?” Her voice had returned to normal. Another surprise. This was the same emotional roller coaster she’d been on ever since the divorce, but it seemed to be going in the opposite direction. Instead of feeling as if the ride was controlled by an unseen force bent on destroying her, she’d never felt more in control in her life. It felt good. “Hayley, honey.” Trey’s voice broke. “I messed up so bad.” His voice thickened. “I hurt you so much. And I—and I—I want to make it right.” Oh God, Hayley thought wildly. Were those tears? Was Trey crying? She softened her voice. “Let’s go inside.” Trey followed her through the door. “You want something to drink?” she asked. She was pretty sure she needed a second glass of wine. “Water’s fine, thanks.” Trey sniffed and stood inside the door, gazing at his surroundings through red-rimmed eyes. Hayley poured a glass of water and a half glass of wine and headed for the couch. Trey followed. She handed him the water. “What’s this all about?” Trey took a sip of the water. His hand shook slightly. He set the glass on the table. “I got out of rehab two days ago.” Hayley hadn’t known he’d been in rehab. Andre hadn’t mentioned it. But then, Trey was off the team and out of the league, so maybe he hadn’t known, either. Immersed in trying to run her own life, Hayley hadn’t given Trey much thought at all lately. “It was the drugs, babe. The painkillers. The booze.”
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“The women,” Hayley put in, simply because that was what had broken her. If it were only his substance abuse, she could have fought it with him, would have stayed with him. His blatant infidelity? She could neither forgive nor forget. Trey nodded. “The women. I got a lot of counseling. I think I understand why I did what I did.” “Good for you.” Wow. She’d managed that without a trace of sarcasm. “I’m clean,” Trey informed her. “Sixty-two days.” “I’m sure it wasn’t easy.” Hayley didn’t know what else to say. Sixty-two days didn’t sound like much after years of over-indulging in alcohol and the more recent addiction to prescription painkillers. But, like every other addict, Trey had to start somewhere on the road to recovery. “It wasn’t. It isn’t. You have to take it one day at a time.” Oh no. He wasn’t going to recite the acceptance prayer, was he? Hayley was afraid that might bring on another fit of the giggles. Still, she had to admit, Trey looked more humbled than she’d ever seen him. He sounded more sincere than he ever had too. Maybe those few tears were even genuine. But something in her couldn’t quite believe he’d changed that much. He was a stranger she knew too well and could never trust. She took another look at him. She’d left only one light burning on the end table so it was hard to be sure, but Trey looked exhausted. Thinner than she remembered. Older. More tired. There were new lines radiating out from his todie-for blue eyes, and he needed a haircut. His cheekbones and jawline were more sharply drawn. Trey looked downright weary. Hayley’d spent too many days thinking she looked the same way not to recognize it in Trey. Of all the emotions she’d expected to feel when she saw him again, pity had not been on the list. “Are you hungry, Trey? Can I make you something to eat?”
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Now it was Trey’s turn to chuckle. “You learned how to cook?” She had to smile. “I wouldn’t go that far. But I can make sandwiches, and sometimes I heat a pizza in the oven without burning it.” “Maybe half a sandwich.” He followed her to the kitchen and watched in silence as she laid slices of turkey on bread spread with mustard and added a few leaves of lettuce. She handed the plate to him. “Want some milk? Or some orange juice?” “Milk, please.” After she poured it, they sat at the table like two civilized human beings. Hayley had never expected to soften up in Trey’s presence and certainly not so quickly. She’d loved him passionately, and she’d watched the love turn to hurt, disillusion and disappointment. He’d crushed her and ground her under his heel with his thoughtlessness, philandering and substance abuse. She’d hated that she’d become bitter and cynical, sarcastic and more insecure than she’d ever been. But even those traits had begun to fade these past few months. Maybe Trey had done her a favor. He’d stripped her blinders off, shaken her out of her secure cocoon and made her stand on her own two feet. She was stronger for the experience, but she had no wish to repeat it. The sandwich disappeared in four bites. Trey never lingered over food. He drained the glass of milk. Hayley couldn’t think of anything more to say. She’d been talking to Trey through lawyers and public relations people for so long, she had no idea how to communicate with him directly. Maybe she never had. “So, babe, what do you think?” “About?”
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“About us.” He reached across the table and covered her hand with his, gave it a squeeze. Hayley stared at his hand atop hers. The long, thick fingers that had once touched her with love. The strong, capable hand that could hurl a football sixty yards with deadly accuracy. There were tiny, gold-flecked hairs across the back of his hand. God, how she’d loved him. But that time was so far away it was as if it had happened to someone else. She’d lived a fairy tale starring the cheerleader and the quarterback. But no one ever writes “Fairy Tale: The Sequel”. No one wants to read about the heartbreak that threatens every relationship. No one wants to know what happens seven or ten years in when the going gets tough. Hayley met Trey’s gaze. His eyes were clear, a glittering blue. Incredibly, they were filled with hope. And that made everything that had gone before sadder still. “There is no us, Trey. Not anymore.” She got the words out in a voice barely above a whisper. If she said anything more, the tears she was holding at bay would fall. “Babe. Come on. I messed up. I know I did. Give me another chance. I want to make it right. You don’t have to live like this.” He looked around with mild distaste. “Come home with me and let me make it up to you.” Hayley thought of what that would mean. No more financial struggle. No more lonely nights. No more worry about her future. She could make Trey sign a new pre-nup that guaranteed her a big chunk of his assets if he so much as looked at another woman. She could make Trey pay dearly, if he was serious about getting back together. The thought tantalized her as she remembered her life of ease. She’d hardly set foot in a kitchen the entire time they’d been together, and she’d never have to again.
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But she knew she’d be miserable. She didn’t love Trey anymore. She’d rather be alone and struggling than married to a man she had no passion for. Hayley shook her head and withdrew her hand from beneath his. “I can’t.” “Can’t or won’t?” “Both.” Trey surprised her again when he didn’t argue further or try to change her mind. “I figured you were too smart to give me another shot. But I had to ask.” “I’m surprised you did. Last time I saw you, you were slamming the door behind me after you’d kicked me out of our house.” “I was an ass. You didn’t deserve it.” Hayley lifted her chin. “No. I didn’t.” “I’m sorry. You probably don’t believe me, but I am.” “Thank you for saying it.” Trey scrubbed his hands over his face. He reminded Hayley of a little kid who desperately needed a nap. “Where are you staying? You look exhausted.” “Oh. Hmm. Hadn’t thought about that. I guess, I don’t know. There must be a place I can stay around here somewhere.” Hayley nodded. “There’s a motel at the next exit west off the interstate. It’s about ten miles.” “Yeah. Okay.” He made no move to get up. Hayley yawned. “Um, the thing is, darlin,’ I took off without my wallet. Could I maybe borrow some cash or a credit card?” “You’ve got to be kidding me.” “Come on, babe. You know I’m good for it.” “Nope. Forget it.”
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“What am I supposed to do then?” “I don’t know, Trey. You figure it out. You haven’t changed that much. Still leaping before you look. You’re only good at advance planning when you’re on the field.” “What are you so mad about all of a sudden?” “Nothing. But I’m done being abused by you. You took all I had to give. You’re not getting anything else.” “Okay, okay. I get it. I’m dog-tired is all. I don’t think I can drive back to Jacksonville tonight.” Truth be told, Hayley didn’t want him on the road either. If something happened to him, if he fell asleep at the wheel and had an accident, she’d feel horrible. “You can sleep on the couch, if you want to. But first thing in the morning, you hit the road. No excuses.” Trey smiled his trademark smile. “Sure thing, babe. Thanks.” Hayley lay awake for a long time that night. Trey supposedly wanted to reconcile, but he’d never once said he still loved her. She wondered if he’d thought for a minute that she’d say yes, if he even would have asked her. Perhaps he’d only wanted to try to make amends as part of his recovery. Apologizing to her was probably one item on a long list of things Trey needed to do for his own peace of mind. She thought of Ray. How his solid strength made her feel secure. How he never judged or jumped in with his own opinions. Ray saw something in her no one else had seen, and it made her feel good. Ray and Trey. Hayley and Kaylee.
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How had she managed to stumble into a Dr. Seuss scenario with rhyming names? Perhaps she and Ray could marry and have a child someday. They could give it a name that rhymed with Molly to keep the tradition going. She began running through the alphabet in her head. Dolly. Holly. Lolly. Polly. Ollie. Wally. Or maybe they could get another dog. A collie.
Hayley nudged Trey awake the next morning. She wanted him up and out before she left. Fletcher was getting dressed when she shoved Trey in the direction of the bathroom. As usual, he moaned and groaned his way there, his old football injuries causing stiffness until he worked the kinks out and warmed up his muscles and ligaments. “Hurry up.” She closed the door behind him, annoyed with herself for letting him stay last night. She wondered if he’d forgotten his wallet or if he’d made that up so she’d let him stay. Although knowing Trey, he’d have preferred even an inexpensive motel bed over the sofa which could barely accommodate his football player’s frame. Fletcher appeared as she set his cereal and half a banana at his place. She poured him juice and ruffled his hair on the way back to the refrigerator. She warmed up her coffee from the pot when a knock came at the door. Maybe it was Ray. Her heart did a flutter at the thought, and she peeked through the sidelight before she opened the door. Callie Maxwell stood on the other side of the door. Hayley opened it and let her in. “Ms. Maxwell. You’re out early today.” She looked over the woman’s shoulder to see her government vehicle parked behind Trey’s shiny black Porsche.
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“I told you I’d be making unscheduled visits. I’m required to vary the times of day when I do, but lately mornings are more convenient for me. Is that a problem?” “No, no, not at all. Come in.” Callie spotted Fletcher at the table and smiled at him. “Good morning, Fletcher. How are you today?” Fletcher stared at her but continued to munch cereal. “Only a quick inspection today,” Callie assured her. “Won’t take long.” She took in Hayley’s workout outfit. “You’re probably on your way to work.” “Yes, in a little while. Please, go ahead. Look around.” “Thank you. I will.” Callie started with a visit to the breakfast table. Hayley hoped she noted Fletcher’s cereal wasn’t one of the sugar-laden varieties and that he had fruit and juice. Next Callie opened the refrigerator and scanned the contents then made a check mark on a form she had with her. She peeked into the oven and the microwave and the dishwasher, all of which were empty, and made another checkmark. She opened the door to the laundry room and stuck her head in there as well. “I need to check Fletcher’s bedroom and the bathroom,” she informed Hayley. She started across the living area when Trey opened the bathroom door. Damp steam followed his shirtless self out into the hall, and Callie stopped short at his appearance. “Hello there.” He greeted her as if he hadn’t a care in the world and they’d been introduced at a social gathering. Oh great, Hayley thought. She’d tidied up the sofa already, so it would surely look to Callie as if Trey had spent the night. With her.
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She hustled across to them. “Trey, this is Callie Maxwell. She’s a social worker with DCW. Callie, this is Trey Christopher.” The less information the better, she reminded herself. She purposely left out the fact that Trey Christopher was her ex-husband, although she was fairly certain Callie already had that information in her file, or soon would. Callie nodded at Trey. “Nice to meet you. If you’ll excuse me.” She sidled past the two of them. Hayley led Trey back to the kitchen. “Why couldn’t you shower faster? Why’d I let you stay here last night? Put your shirt on! God only knows what she must be thinking.” First Andre had made an early morning appearance in her bedroom, then Ray had surfaced from the same end of the hallway. Now Trey appeared exiting her bathroom like he did it all the time. Callie Maxwell probably thought her bedroom had a revolving door. Trey shrugged into his shirt. “What do you care what she thinks?” Trey poured himself a cup of coffee and gestured to Fletcher with it. “Who’s the kid?” Fletcher stopped eating. His somber gaze moved from Hayley to Trey and back. “This is Fletcher. Steffie’s son.” “What’s he doing here?” Trey wanted to know. At the same time he walked toward the table. “Hey, kid. I’m Trey.” He put his hand out. Fletcher stared at it before his gaze returned to Trey’s face, suspicion in his eyes. “Not very friendly. But at least he’s quiet,” Trey commented. He pulled out a chair and sat down. Hayley rolled her eyes. “Hurry up and drink your coffee, because when I leave you’re leaving.” Callie reappeared. “Thank you, Hayley. I’ll be going now.” She nodded in Trey’s direction. “Mr. Christopher.”
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Hayley hustled to meet her at the door before she opened it. “Thank you, Ms. Maxwell. Have a good day.” Hayley closed the door, muttering a mild obscenity under her breath. Fletcher slid off his chair and carried his bowl and glass to the counter. “Go brush your teeth, Fletch. We need to get moving.” Fletcher went into the bathroom. Hayley poured the rest of her coffee down the drain and ran water over the few dishes and left them in the sink. When Fletcher reappeared, Hayley reached for Trey’s mug. He didn’t want to give it up. “Sorry,” she told him. “I have to go to work.” She retrieved the lunch sacks from the refrigerator and put one in Fletcher’s backpack. Trey followed them out the door and watched while she locked up. “You could come home with me. You wouldn’t have to work. You never did before.” “Maybe I should have.” “You adopting the kid?” he asked, glancing at Fletcher. “That’s cool. We always talked about having kids.” “I’m not adopting him. I’m just trying to take care of him until someone else does because Steffie asked me to. Then I’m moving to L.A.” “Oh.” Trey pondered this for a moment. He followed her to her car and watched while she buckled Fletcher into his seat. “I’m going to New York,” he informed her. “We’re in talks with ESPN to do play-by-play and half-time reports. The Big Apple, babe. You’d love it.” She turned back to him. The morning sun beat down on them relentlessly. Already the heat was beginning to build. The birds didn’t seem bothered by it, though. A few sang or flitted through the two trees in front of the duplex.
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Hayley looked at her surroundings as if seeing them for the first time. The quiet street in a small town. The big old trees. The simple but well-maintained duplex. She wasn’t exactly happy and maybe not a hundred percent content. But she was off the treadmill of trying to be something she’d never, in heart at least, been. She didn’t have to keep up the appearance that she enjoyed her job as Trey’s wife. She saw it now for what it was. Her role had been to make him look good. To make him look like he had it all. She’d believed it. Believed herself to be happy reflected in his glory, orbiting around his fame and fortune. But the truth was, she’d lost herself in his aura, and it hadn’t been healthy for her. It was only now, these past few months, when she’d woken up and begun to find out who she was without him. That she had strengths and weaknesses like everyone else. Likes and dislikes. Goals. Dreams that were her own and not someone else’s. “Trey, I’m happy for you. Your recovery. ESPN. All of it. But you don’t love me. And I’m finally, happily, over you.” “You are? You’re over me? You don’t love me anymore?” “Yes. Yes. And yes.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Have a great life. Now get out of my way. I have to go to work.” She got into her car and closed the door. By the time she turned the ignition, Trey was in his Porsche and backing out. Hayley smiled. Today was a good day.
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Chapter Twenty
Ray glowered as he watched the touching good-bye scene playing out in the driveway. He clenched his coffee mug so tightly his knuckles protested as he watched Hayley and her ex-husband. When she leaned up on tiptoe and kissed the guy, Ray turned away from the window. He slammed his mug on the counter and grabbed Oscar’s leash. The puppy leapt up and followed him out the back, startling when Ray slammed the sliding door shut so hard it rolled back a few inches on its track, leaving an open gap. Ray ignored it and led Oscar away from the duplex, past his shop and down a side street. Trey Christopher had decided to make an appearance. Of course Ray knew who he was. He’d seen the guy numerous times in television interviews over the years. Ray’d never quite bought the southern boy charm, but he’d been a hell of a quarterback in his day, and Ray had spent numerous evenings cheering him and the rest of the Jacksonville Jacks on to victory. He’d screwed Hayley over royally and broken her heart, but now he was sniffing around her door. Probably wanted her back, and who could blame him? Trey Christopher might not be the brightest guy in the world but he’d eventually get a sense of what he’d lost when he let Hayley slip through his fingers. He made Hayley laugh, which meant he had the power to amuse her. In fact, Ray’d never heard Hayley laugh like that before. It’s what caught his attention and why he’d opened the door last night. He’d heard only their voices
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and after that, not any specific words. Then they’d gone inside. And Trey’s car was still there this morning. Ray tightened his grip on Oscar’s leash and marched along the road like a man on a mission. Minutes later, he noticed Oscar struggling to keep up and he slowed his pace. He patted the dog’s head. Oscar’s tongue lolled out of his mouth. “Sorry, buddy. I was thinking.” He turned and walked slowly home. If Trey wanted Hayley back, would she go? He hadn’t quite figured her out yet. His gut told him no, but then he had to remind himself, his gut had been wrong before. He hadn’t thought Caroline would abuse his trust in her, but she had. Women thought differently from men. If Hayley got back with Trey, she could make him pay for his mistreatment of her. Hayley’s financial struggle would be over. Hell, maybe she and Trey would adopt Fletcher and be one big, happy, freakin’ family. The thought made Ray’s blood boil. This time when he shoved the sliding door open it hit the end of the track with a loud smack and rolled back shut in his face. When he went to open it, forcing himself to be calm, he found it was locked. Wonderful. He had a spare set of house keys in the shop somewhere. Only one problem. The shop was locked. Luckily, Rick had a key to his house as well. Fine. He’d get in the car and drive over to the station. Nope. He’d be hoofing it over there. Because his car keys were now locked in his house. “Come on, Oscar. Let’s take another walk.” He wasn’t looking forward to answering Rick’s inevitable question about how he’d managed to lock himself out. But maybe Kaylee had sent some of those muffins to work with him. A couple of those and it’d almost be worth the humiliation. Rick was at his desk behind the counter. He had paperwork spread out before him and the phone glued to one ear. An eyebrow shot up when Ray came
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through the door and their gazes met, but then Rick went back to his conversation, repeating numbers and jotting down notes. Oscar collapsed, panting, onto the linoleum. Ray peered over the counter for possible sustenance. Rick hung up the phone and opened his bottom desk drawer. He withdrew a small napkin-lined basket and held it up as if it were bait. “Looking for this?” He grinned. Ray reached across the counter. “Gimmee.” Rick held the basket out of Ray’s reach. “What do you say?” “Creep. Come on. Share.” Rick chuckled and handed the basket over. Ray flipped the napkin back. “There’s only one!” he accused his brother. “Yeah, and you’re lucky it’s still there and that I’m such a nice guy.” Ray sunk his teeth into the lone muffin and almost groaned with pleasure. “Blueberry,” he informed Rick before he’d swallowed. “You’re disgusting. Don’t talk with your mouth full.” “Yes, Dad,” Ray mocked. He took another bite. “Wait until you are one. Trying to teach kids manners comes with the territory.” Ray set down the rest of the muffin. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean—” “No, it’s okay. I know you didn’t.” Rick looked chagrined. “Let me see if I can keep my foot out of my mouth long enough for you to tell me why you’re here. Want to sit?” He indicated the stool between his desk and the counter. Ray picked up the last bite of muffin and savored it as he walked around the counter to the stool. “I need my house keys.”
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Rick’s eyebrow shot up again. “Why? Giving them to someone else?” He waggled both brows suggestively. Ray scowled. “I wish. No. I locked myself out.” Rick rubbed his hands together. “Okay. Now we’re getting somewhere. How’d you manage to do that?” “I saw Hayley in the driveway kissing Trey Christopher good-bye this morning.” “What?” Rick’s verbal outrage nearly matched Ray’s silent one earlier. “But I thought, I thought—you and she—hell, I don’t know what I thought.” “Yeah. Me too.” “What are you saying? He spent the night there?” “Sure as hell looks like it.” “Huh. Well. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything.” Ray looked at his brother with disbelief. Rick held up his hands in defense. “Hey, I’m just saying. Kaylee and I were living under the same roof and we didn’t, uh, that is nothing happened. Not right away. She slept on the couch.” “Yeah, well, you’re not a rich ex-football star she used to be married to, either.” “True. But if Kaylee’s ex had shown up, I don’t think she’d have jumped into bed with him. There’s a reason those guys have an ex in front of their name.” “You think he spent the night and nothing happened?” “I’m saying you ought to give Hayley the benefit of the doubt and not jump to conclusions. If you’ll recall, I had myself half-convinced Kaylee was a jewel thief and a con artist. Things aren’t always what they seem.”
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“Yeah. Maybe you’re right,” Ray conceded, although that nagging sense of doubt didn’t ease up. Rick pulled open another drawer in his desk and rummaged around in it. “Here are your keys.” Ray took them and stood. “Thanks, bud. I’ll see you around.” He picked up Oscar’s leash. No sooner had the door closed behind him than he opened it back up and stuck his head in. “Hey, thanks for the muffin. Dad.” He grinned when Rick lobbed a paper clip at him. His steps were much lighter on the way home. He’d been purposely giving Hayley a lot of space. Not only because she’d made it clear she needed it, but mostly because he couldn’t trust himself around her. He was afraid to say or do anything to push her into something she wasn’t ready for or to scare her off completely. But he missed her like crazy, especially in the evenings when he’d begun to anticipate spending time with her, even if it was sitting in near silence on her porch. Her presence soothed him in a way nothing else did. She seemed to fill up the empty spaces inside him without saying a word or even touching him. She only had to be there, nearby, in the same room and he didn’t feel lost and empty any more. When he got home he filled Oscar’s water dish and made a decision. Trey Christopher might want Hayley back. But Ray wasn’t going to let her go without a fight.
Ray swore Fletcher had a sixth sense. Or maybe he glued himself to the window to see when Ray knocked off for the day and headed back to his side of the duplex. As soon as he arrived, Fletcher was there, and the little boy’s presence never failed to lift Ray’s spirits.
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“Hey, buddy.” He ruffled Fletcher’s dark hair and walked inside with him. Oscar went berserk, and Fletcher sank to his knees, letting the puppy jump on him and lick his face. They had a routine established. After a few minutes of play, Ray handed Fletcher Oscar’s leash and let him clip it on. This could be a slightly timeconsuming process because Oscar didn’t like to stand still for long and Fletcher, of course, never reprimanded him. Then Ray would let Fletcher hold the leash, and they’d walk around the block at a slow pace while Oscar sniffed everything in sight. Sometimes Ray told Fletcher stories about the neighbors, or commented on the makes of cars parked in driveways. Other times he’d tell him what kinds of trees or bushes they passed or anecdotes about his own childhood. He shared idle chitchat about his own day and the people he’d seen, the places he’d been, the jobs he was working on. “I went to see my brother today,” he informed Fletcher as they passed under the shade of an oak tree. “He had one blueberry muffin left and he gave it to me. His wife bakes them. Remember her? Her name’s Kaylee and she’s an excellent cook. We talked for a while. He says things aren’t always what they seem, and that we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. “What do you think, Fletch?” He glanced down at the boy who didn’t seem to notice. “Probably better to give people the benefit of the doubt, huh? “Like you, for instance. I’m pretty sure you can talk. And if you felt like it, you would. If you had something important to say, you’d talk, wouldn’t you? “But sometimes it’s better not to say anything, isn’t it? Sometimes words can get you in trouble or you say the wrong thing. Or sometimes you’re too upset to talk, and you have to wait until you calm down. People shouldn’t try to make you talk when you don’t feel like it, should they?
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“Hey, look there.” He pointed across the yard they were passing. “There’s a bunny. See it?” He hunkered next to Fletcher and took hold of Oscar’s leash. He pointed again. “Over there. Next to the birdbath near the rose bush. See it? It’s sort of brown and gray and it has a white tail.” Fletcher stared in the direction where Ray pointed. He nodded. Ray swore his lips moved and he mouthed the word “bunny”. But he couldn’t be a hundred percent sure. Maybe it was his imagination. For sure Fletcher had made progress. Especially since Oscar’s arrival. He smiled more, and sometimes he laughed although he managed to do it without making hardly a sound. He had a small repertoire of barely audible noises, groans, grunts, whimpers or chortles, which he used occasionally to convey what he otherwise couldn’t. Or sometimes, Ray thought, when he couldn’t contain them. Ray wondered what was locked inside Fletcher’s head, and why he resisted his natural inclination to communicate with speech. That said, Fletcher was a master with body language, facial expressions and eye contact. Ray could read his mood within seconds by looking at him. He still believed what he’d told Callie Maxwell weeks ago. Fletcher would talk when he was ready. They turned the corner and headed home. From the end of the street, Ray could see a car parked on the edge of the road. A man leaned against the driver’s side door, talking to Hayley. When they reached the middle of the block where Oscar stopped once again to sniff and squat, the man straightened away from the car and turned to look at them. Or rather, Ray thought, he focused his attention on Fletcher. After a few seconds, he turned away and spoke to Hayley. He touched her arm, pressed something into her hand, opened the car door and drove off. Hayley stood near her car and waited for them. Ray’s heartbeat sped up.
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She didn’t say anything but her gaze locked with his. “Hi,” she breathed when they stopped in front of her. “Hi, yourself.” Wonderful, Ray. Brilliant. Dashing. Witty. So full of charm. Of course she’d choose you over Trey Christopher. What woman wouldn’t? And who was that guy who just left? “Have a nice walk?” She included Fletcher and Oscar in her question, but Ray was the only one who answered. “We talked. We laughed. We saw a bunny.” “A bunny?” She giggled. “How…cute.” It occurred to Ray that maybe using the term “rabbit” would have sounded more manly. But he’d already pointed it out as a bunny to Fletcher, and he didn’t want to confuse him. “Yeah. That’s right. A bunny. I can say bunny without fear of emasculation.” Hayley giggled again. “Of course you can. You’re a tough guy, right?” He grinned at her. “Right.” But then his grin died, and his thoughts went back to that night they’d spent together in her bed. He’d insisted he was man enough to take whatever she threw at him. Now all he had to do was prove it. “I miss you,” Hayley said. “Opting for the direct approach, I see. I miss you too.” Ray’s palms itched. If it weren’t for the presence of Fletcher and Oscar, and the fact that they were standing in the front yard, he’d have Hayley in his arms now, his mouth on hers as a prelude to much, much more. “Want to come in? I can burn some pizza for us.” Ray smiled. If she was getting back together with Trey, she wouldn’t be inviting him in for burnt pizza, would she? Unless she wanted to give him some bad news. No. No. Then she wouldn’t have said she missed him. Would she? “Are you getting back together with Trey?”
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“He asked me to—” “Because if you are, I won’t make it easy. He doesn’t deserve you.” Hayley nodded. “That’s what I told him—” “And I don’t think he can make you happy. You’ve got so much going for you and you don’t have to—wait. What? You told him what?” Hayley laughed. “I’m not getting back together with Trey.” “But…but he spent the night.” Ray was backpedaling as fast as he could, nearly spluttering in his effort to undo the scenario he’d constructed in his head. “On the couch.” “On the couch? Are you sure?” “What? You don’t believe me?” Hayley’s tone held a hint of annoyance. “No. I mean yes. I mean, I’m relieved is all.” “Relieved?” “Yeah. I figured I’d have to fight him. He’s got a couple of inches on me and a lot more conditioning. He’d probably beat the stuffing out of me.” “Awww. And you’re such a tough guy and everything.” Hayley looked away for a moment, her attention distracted by Fletcher and Oscar, who were running circles around each other. Her gaze came back to Ray’s. “You’d have fought for me?” “I was prepared to not give you up without a fight if that’s what it took. Now who’s this other guy?” “What other guy?” “The one that was here just now.” Hayley hesitated a few seconds, wondering how to explain Niko’s presence to Ray. He’d stopped by and pressed more cash on her, insisting she use it for whatever Fletcher needed. Or if they needed to make a quick getaway. He’d informed her Carlos was still in jail, which gave her only the slightest bit of
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comfort. He’d promised to call her if Carlos was released. Before he left, he’d looked longingly in Fletcher’s direction. “He’s a friend. A friend of Steffie’s, actually. He wanted to see how Fletcher was doing.” “What’s this?” Ray asked, tapping her fist in which she’d enclosed the cash since she didn’t have anywhere else to put it. Hayley glanced around to see Fletcher beyond earshot engaged in a rope toy tug of war with Oscar. Still she kept her voice low. “It’s cash,” she told Ray, opening her hand a bit to show him. “Niko is afraid of what Carlos will do to us if he gets out of jail. Or more likely when he gets out. He wants to make sure if Fletcher and I need to get away fast that we’ll be able to.” “You’d leave? Just like that? You wouldn’t come to me? Let me help?” “See, Ray, this is why I didn’t tell you before. I don’t want to put you in the middle of this. Carlos is a Class A nut job. He hates me, and he thinks he needs to even the score by making me pay for my interference, but he won’t care who else gets hurt. If it’s you or Fletcher, I’d never forgive myself. It’s easier if I take Fletch and go somewhere he can’t find us.” Ray seemed to debate about whether to press her for further details, but he didn’t. Instead he said, “I don’t want you to move to L.A. Or anywhere else for that matter. I’m going to do whatever I can to change your mind. In the meantime we need to install an alarm system.” Hayley’s eyes widened. “Ray, I—” Ray did what he’d wanted to do from the moment he saw her. He kissed her, cutting off the flow of words. All the words in the world didn’t mean anything. Talk was cheap. It was action that counted.
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When Hayley didn’t resist, not at all, Ray knew he’d won the battle, though maybe not the war. But he’d see it through, whatever it took. If it meant winning Hayley’s heart in the end, it would be worth it.
“Okay, Paige, what’s up? I’ve got three messages from you.” “Are you sitting down?” “Yes.” She’d gotten Fletcher to bed after a brief game of sponge baseball and two Dr. Seuss books, and she was ready for her glass of wine. She plopped onto one of the stools at the counter to pour it. “I’m pregnant!” Paige announced, joy apparent in her voice. “Pregnant? You’re pregnant? I didn’t even know you guys were trying.” “We weren’t. I mean, not really. We weren’t trying not to either. We figured we’d give it a few months, see what happened. And it happened!” “Oh, Paige, that’s wonderful.” Hayley picked up her wineglass and relocated to the front porch. “I can’t wait for you to get out here. I’m going to need your help more than ever.” “I’m really happy for you.” “You don’t sound all that happy. What’s wrong?” “Oh, Paige, don’t let me rain on your parade. I am happy that you’re happy.” “But?” “But nothing.” “Tell me.” “How’s Lonny? He must be so excited.” “Yeah, he is. Now tell me what’s wrong?”
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“Nothing’s wrong.” “Girl, don’t make me get on a plane in my condition. Talk to me.” Hayley sniffed. “Oh, Paigee,” she said, reverting to the silly nickname she’d given her in college. “It just seems like you’re moving so fast. You’re so far ahead of me. And I’m—I’m just stuck. Here.” “You’re not stuck. You’re helping your stepsister’s son. That’s a good thing. What’s going on with that, anyway?” “I don’t know. It’s taking forever. I’ve had all these surprise home visits, and now I’m not hearing anything.” “He’s still not talking, huh?” “No.” Hayley took a fortifying sip of her wine. “He has a whole repertoire of gestures and sounds and looks he gives to tell you what he wants. Or what he doesn’t want. He smiles more. Especially around Ray. And Ray’s puppy.” “Okay, now we’re getting to it. Spill.” “Stop it. There’s nothing to spill.” “Yes, there is. I can hear it in your voice.” “Paige—” “Don’t ‘Paige’ me. I’m your best friend. Now tell me what’s going on.” “Nothing.” “Nothing? Nothing at all?” Hayley smiled, remembering Ray’s reaction to Trey’s visit. “Okay. Maybe a little something.” “Good. Continue.” “Trey showed up the other night.” “What!” Hayley chuckled at Paige’s outrage. “What in the world did he want?”
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“Well, he said he wanted to get back together with me.” Hayley laughed while Paige scoffed. She then relayed the details of Trey’s visit. “Good for you,” Paige commended her when she’d finished. “And how’s it going with your neighbor, Ray? Andre says he’s hot.” Hayley took another sip of wine and contemplated how to explain her feelings about Ray to Paige. “Don’t clam up on me. Talk to me.” “Remember how I had it all planned out? To move to L.A., work for you, go back to school? We made all those plans together. I was all set to leave.” “And then Steffie died.” “Right. And now I’m here, and I have Fletcher to think of, and Ray shows up on my doorstep that day. Paige, I’ve told myself not to get too close to him, to stay away from him because I don’t want to get hurt again. But somehow, I swear I don’t even know how he does it, he makes me forget all my good intentions. Now I’m questioning everything I do, every move I make. I’m so confused. And Ray isn’t helping. He told me he doesn’t want me to leave. That he’s going to try to get me to change my mind.” “He actually said that?” “Yes.” “Wow.” “Niko showed up and Ray saw him. I told Ray about Carlos, but I’m not sure I can make him understand how out of control Carlos can be. He thinks an alarm system is the answer.” “He wants to keep you safe. You and Fletcher.” “He wants to keep us here,” Hayley corrected.
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When Paige didn’t say anything, Hayley continued. “I wanted to be somewhere new, somewhere different so I could start over. A new place. New people. As far away from Trey as I could get. But now, after seeing Trey—” “You’re over him. And it’s not so important anymore.” “Yes, I guess that’s it,” Hayley agreed. “And I mean, think about it. You aren’t that far from Jacksonville, but you are in a new place, you have met new people.” “Yes. But I wanted to come and work with you. I miss you so much. And I don’t want to let you down. Especially now. Gosh, Paige. You’re going to have a baby.” “I know.” “When are you due?” “Oh, not until the middle of February.” “I’m excited for you. Thanks for listening to me.” “Hey, that’s what girlfriends are for. Look, I know you’re feeling confused about everything, but I think there’s going to be a moment when you just know what the right thing is, you know? Something will happen, probably when you least expect it, and it will all click and you’ll know in your heart what the right thing to do is. If L.A. isn’t right for you, I don’t want you here. I want you to do whatever is going to make you happy.” “I love you, Paige.” “I love you, Hay.” They disconnected, and Hayley sat for a long time in the dark, sipping her wine and trying to figure out what it was that would make her happy.
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Chapter Twenty-One
Hayley’s cell phone rang almost the instant she walked in the door with Fletcher. She pulled it out of the pocket in her purse and answered without checking the caller I.D. “Hey, it’s me.” Hayley grinned. Evidently she and Ray were at the point in their relationship where they could do that. She recalled the Seinfeld episode centered around such a scenario. “Oh, hi, Joe. I’m glad you called.” “Who’s Joe and why is he calling you?” Ray growled. “It’s Ray.” “I know.” Hayley chuckled. “Just keeping you on your toes.” “More like pins and needles,” Ray muttered. “Hey, listen, can you do me a favor? I’m supposed to watch Molly tonight. Rick and Kaylee have some class at the birth center to go to, but I’m on a job with Roscoe and we’re running late. Could you keep an eye on her until I get there?” “Um, sure. I guess. If it’s okay with Rick and Kaylee.” “I’ll call them. I’m sure it will be fine. I shouldn’t be more than an hour.” “Okay.” “Thanks, hon.” Ray disconnected and Hayley allowed herself to bask in the warmth of Ray’s trust. He called me hon. She hugged that tidbit to herself.
Barbara Meyers
When Molly arrived, she steered Fletcher out to the swing set, poking her head back in the door only once to ask if Hayley had a beach towel. Hayley gave her one, and Molly scampered off, chattering about playing Superman. Ray had positioned the swingset in the middle of the back yard so it could be viewed from the kitchen window and the sliding doors behind the eating areas in both duplexes. Hayley puttered around the kitchen for a bit, trying to figure out what she could feed the kids. SpaghettiOs, maybe. Bread and butter. She had some instant vanilla pudding she’d been meaning to try. The instructions claimed mixing it with milk would result in a creamy dessert. “I’ll probably find a way to mess it up,” she warned herself, but she took the box out of the cabinet and set it on the counter. Maybe she could cut up a banana in it and make it even more nutritious. She’d overheard a couple of conversations at her parenting classes. Supposedly, there were all kinds of ways to fool kids into eating things that were good for them. Not that Fletcher was a fussy eater. Molly probably wasn’t either. But a banana in the pudding wouldn’t hurt either one of them. She glanced out the window. The kids were standing on the small platform outside the swingset fort. Molly was clearly in charge of play time. Fletcher had the beach towel tied around his shoulders and draped down his back like a cape. He hero-worshipped Molly and nodded when she pointed. The kids were fine. They didn’t need to be watched every second. She could duck into the laundry room and put a load in the washing machine before she started dinner. She’d sorted the whites, added detergent and closed the lid when she heard a bloodcurdling scream. She dashed out to the kitchen, her field of vision taking in the view outside. Fletcher lay motionless on the ground beneath the swingset, and Molly was scrambling down the ladder from the fort.
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Maybe she froze for a second. Maybe she reacted immediately. Hayley had no idea. She threw open the sliding door and raced to where Fletcher lay. Blood poured profusely from a gash near his temple. His eyes were closed. Hayley laid her head on his chest. His heart was beating; he was breathing. He didn’t need CPR. Molly stood next to them, staring at Fletcher. “Is he dead? He jumped. We were playing Superman. I didn’t tell him to jump. I told him to pretend.” Molly was near tears. Hayley tuned her out, trying to think what to do. She untied the beach towel from around Fletcher and pressed it to his head. She picked him up and staggered under his weight. “Get my keys,” she told Molly. “They’re on the counter.” She got both kids into the back seat of the Mustang and told Molly to hold the towel on Fletcher’s head. He was still out of it. Nausea warred with the pounding of her heart as she backed out and peeled down the street. Would it have been better to call 9-1-1? Probably not. One of the drawbacks of small-town living. She could make the one-way trip to the hospital in Jannings Point faster than it would take an ambulance to drive from there to Perrish and back. She sped along the nearly deserted back roads, taking every shortcut she knew, her knuckles white as she gripped the wheel. She should call the hospital, though, shouldn’t she? Tell them she was on her way with an injured child? She reached to the passenger seat without taking her eyes off the road. Her purse wasn’t there. She cut her gaze to the seat. Damn! She’d left her purse on the kitchen counter. She’d told Molly to get her keys and nothing else. Idiot! she berated herself. She had no ID. No phone.
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“How’s he doing?” She glanced at Molly in the rearview mirror. The normally self-possessed little girl showed signs of stress. “He’s bleeding. It’s getting all over me.” She was trying hard not to cry. “Hurry,” she blubbered. “I am,” Hayley replied. Fletcher stirred and started to whimper, though he barely made a sound. She wheeled into the emergency entrance and slid to a stop outside the sliding doors. She ran to them and they parted magically for her. “I’ve got an injured little boy out here,” she yelled. She went back to the car and shoved the seat forward. Two nurses ran out with an orderly pulling a gurney. One of the nurses edged Hayley aside. “Let me.” She did a cursory exam after asking Hayley what happened. “He fell off a swing set. I didn’t see it. I wasn’t watching. He hit his head.” Hayley didn’t want to lose it in front of Molly, but she couldn’t seem to catch her breath or slow her heart rate. She wanted to throw up. She was sweating but her insides had turned to ice. The nurse nodded at her companions. “Let’s get him on the cart.” In seconds they were heading back inside with Fletcher. “You’ll have to move your car,” the nurse called over her shoulder. Hayley parked in the first empty spot she saw and raced back to the emergency entrance. She sat Molly in a chair in the nearly deserted waiting area. “Stay here, okay?” Molly nodded bravely, her lower lip trembling like mad.
Ray arrived home, surprised to discover Hayley’s car gone. Perhaps she had taken the kids out to get something to eat. He was beat. It had been a long
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day and a bitch of job, installing crown molding on the most uneven ceilings he’d ever seen. He started inside when he noticed the door to Hayley’s unit was ajar. Crossing her porch, he pushed it open. “Hayley?” Empty silence greeted him. Prickles of warning ran up the back of his neck. He crossed to the kitchen and saw Hayley’s purse on the counter. The sliding door was open. He flipped open his cell phone and hit the auto dial for her number. Where the hell was she? And Fletcher. And Molly? Oh God, if anything had happened to Molly, Rick would never forgive him. He turned when he heard a ring tone behind him. He stared at Hayley’s purse where her phone rang and vibrated persistently. Almost as soon as he snapped the phone shut it rang. “What the hell is going on?” It was Rick. He sounded pissed and scared. “I don’t know. I—” “Molly called us. She said she’s at the hospital.” “What!” Ray’s insides froze. “Oh God. Is she okay?” “I don’t know. She was so upset she could hardly talk. We’re on our way over there now.” “I’ll meet you there.”
When Ray walked into the ER, it was to find Rick and Kaylee hovering over Molly. He went white when he saw the blood on Molly’s clothes. “What happened?” he demanded.
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Molly was huddled on Rick’s lap. Kaylee patted Ray’s arm. “It’s okay. Molly’s okay. Fletcher fell and hurt himself. Hayley’s in there with him.” She nodded to the area behind the circular, glass-enclosed reception desk. “How’d you guys get here? I tried calling Hayley but she left her cell phone at the house.” “Molly called us,” Kaylee replied. “I let her have my cell phone whenever we leave her anywhere. Just in case.” “Is Fletcher going to be all right?” Molly asked. Kaylee patted her knee. “We’ll see, honey. I’m sure Hayley will be out in a minute.” “The hell with that. I’m going to see if they’ll let me back there.” Ray gained admittance because one of the nurses behind the glass partition was Roscoe’s cousin Natalie. He followed her directions to the X-ray department, where he found Hayley sitting on a gray plastic chair bent over from the waist, her arms wrapped across her stomach. Fletcher was nowhere in sight. Ray nudged Hayley. Her head popped up and she stared at him. She looked like she was in shock. Her eyes were huge and glassy, her skin deathly pale. Ray hunkered next to her. He covered her hand with his. Her fingers were ice cold. “Hey. How’s Fletch?” “He’s getting an X-ray. He’s got a bad cut on his head, and they think he broke his collarbone.” Ray frowned, understanding now where all the blood on Molly’s clothes had come from. “A broken collarbone. That’s not too bad.” As if Ray’s reply had released a lock somewhere inside her, words tumbled out of Hayley’s mouth without rhyme or reason and in no particular
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order. “I heard Molly scream. They were playing on the swings, up in the fort. And Fletcher was Superman, I think. I’m not sure. I walked into the laundry room. For a minute. Only a minute. And he was on the ground, and I was afraid he was dead. That I’d let him get killed. Same as Steffie. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t paying attention. And his head was bleeding. His head. Oh God, he hit his head and his eyes were closed and he didn’t wake up—” Hayley was gasping for breath, beginning to hyperventilate. “Okay. Okay, calm down. He’s going to be all right, isn’t he? Molly said— ” “Oh God. Molly. She’s in the waiting room. I left her there by herself—” Hayley stood, her panic real. “Oh my God, what was I thinking? I told her to sit and wait for me. It’s been hours—” “Ssshhh.” Ray caught her as she lunged for the hallway to the waiting room. “It’s okay. Rick and Kaylee are here.” She stared up at him. “They are? But how? I didn’t even have my phone. I didn’t call them. I didn’t even think about it.” “Molly had Kaylee’s phone. She called them. It’s okay.” “And you? She called you too?” “No.” Ray didn’t want to relive the experience of hearing Rick’s panicked voice on the other end of that phone call earlier. “They must think I’m the biggest idiot. They’d never trust me with Molly again.” “They don’t think that. Molly’s fine. And Fletcher will be too.” He gazed at her. “You, on the other hand, look like you’re about ready to pass out.” “No. But I would like to throw up.” She almost smiled. “Come here.” Ray embraced her, smoothing her hair, enjoying the way she clung to him.
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“I should apologize to them for being such a ditz.” “You’re not a ditz. And you can apologize later. I’m going to go tell them everything’s okay and let them take Molly home, okay? I’ll be right back.” “Okay.” Hayley’s answer was muffled against his chest, and she didn’t let go of him. After a minute he eased her away from him. “I’ll be right back, okay?” “Okay.” Ray walked down the hallway to the waiting room, sensing how weirdly right this all felt. In spite of Hayley’s panic earlier, it felt right for him to be here, comforting her, taking charge in a way. He explained the situation to Rick and Kaylee. Molly bounced back like she always did, happy to hear that Fletcher would be fine. He walked out to the parking lot with them and retrieved Hayley’s purse from his car. By the time he returned, Fletcher was back in the emergency room treatment area, and a doctor was putting stitches in the cut on his head. Ray held back, where he could see but not be seen. The doctor spoke in soothing tones to Fletcher, who stared at him with wary eyes but didn’t move a muscle. Hayley clutched Fletcher’s hand. The damn doctor was flirting with her, though to give Hayley credit, she seemed oblivious. All her attention was concentrated on Fletcher. But Ray ground his teeth when the doctor did everything but ask her to dinner, which he probably would have, if Ray hadn’t stepped forward when he did. “Here’s your purse, hon,” he said as he positioned himself next to Hayley. “I thought you might need it. You doing okay, Fletch?” He gazed at Fletcher. The kid’s gaze locked with his, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. The doctor shut his mouth, sent Ray an annoyed glower and finished with the last stitch.
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“His collarbone isn’t broken. No skull fracture, either. He’s a little banged up is all,” Hayley informed Ray. “Dr. Ryan says head wounds always bleed a lot.” The doctor slid his stool away from the gurney. “The nurse will be in shortly with some paperwork for you. You have any questions or concerns, she’ll give you a number to call here at the hospital. “See you later, champ.” He patted Fletcher’s knee and disappeared. “Jerk,” Ray muttered under his breath as he watched him go. Hayley turned to look at him and frowned. “I thought he was nice.” She turned back to Fletcher. “How you doing, sweetie?” She kissed the top of his head. “We’ll go home in a little bit, okay? Maybe you can have some ice cream. Would you like that?” Fletcher nodded, his dark eyes solemn, flickering from her to Ray and back. A nurse bustled in with a list of instructions for Hayley. Fletcher’s information as a ward of the state was in Hayley’s purse, so she went back to the front desk to complete the rest of the paperwork. Ray took the chair Hayley had vacated earlier. “Playing Superman, huh, Fletch?” Fletcher stared at him. “Let me tell you something I’ve learned about being a super hero.” Ray gazed thoughtfully in the direction Hayley had taken to the reception desk. “Sometimes, the damsel in distress doesn’t know she needs to be rescued. You might have to convince her of that.” He swung his gaze back to Fletcher. “And other times, she might rescue you before you even know it.” He could swear the kid understood exactly what he was talking about even though he wasn’t a hundred percent sure he understood it himself.
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Fletcher flexed his fingers in the blanket then held his arms out to Ray. Ray transferred Fletcher from the bed to his lap. Fletcher leaned against Ray with a heartfelt sigh.
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Ray asked an hour later. He held Fletcher as they made their way to the parking lot. “I’m fine,” Hayley assured him. She unlocked the car and pushed the seat forward so Ray could put Fletcher in his car seat. He buckled him in and straightened. “You’re sure? Because I could drive you home, and we can come back and get my car tomorrow. “Stop it.” She gave him a little shove against his chest. “I may be a ditz, but I’m not helpless.” “Okay. I’ll follow you.” He waved to Fletcher and went to his Explorer and followed Hayley home.
Fletcher was asleep when they got there. Hayley let Ray carry him in to his bed. “No ice cream tonight,” Ray commented as she pulled the covers over the boy. “I guess not.” She smoothed Fletcher’s hair back gently, avoiding the line of stitches on one side. “How about a glass of wine?”
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They went into the kitchen. Hayley opened the refrigerator door then closed it. “I’m beat, to tell you the truth. I think I’m going to go to bed.” She gazed around at the counters. Ray noticed a can of SpaghettiOs and a box of instant pudding. Whatever her meager dinner plans had been probably seemed a lifetime ago. He still wore work clothes. His jeans and work boots and a tee-shirt which bore traces of sawdust and sweat. “Oh God, Ray, you haven’t even been home. You haven’t eaten. You must be starving.” He had been home before he lit out for the hospital. For about two minutes. Long enough to let Oscar out, fill his water bowl and feed him. As if on cue, Ray’s stomach growled. It was after ten, which meant he hadn’t eaten in ten hours. But neither had Hayley, most likely. “Aren’t you hungry? Want me to make you something to eat?” He moved in closer, boxing her in against the counter. “I’m hungry,” he acknowledged, burying his fingers in her hair. “But not for food.” He brought his mouth down on hers, demanding, commanding. He truly did want to devour her, take her inside himself and keep her there forever. This time she didn’t hesitate., She met him full force, exactly what he’d been hoping for. He didn’t care if her defenses were down, if he was taking advantage of her reaction to the earlier crisis. She wasn’t helpless, as she’d pointed out to him earlier. And she wasn’t a ditz, even if her lack of emergency planning made her think so. He had no idea how they managed it, how they maneuvered themselves into her bedroom, how their clothes left their bodies, how they became naked and intimately locked together. All he knew was that Hayley was warm and responsive beneath him and being inside her was the best, most intoxicating feeling he’d ever experienced.
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She shifted and he groaned, knowing he was close and wanting to make it last and last and last. He rolled to his back, hoping that would help slow them both down. Moonlight filtered in through the thin slats of the blinds, revealing her well-toned curves in all their glory. He couldn’t stop touching, stroking her hair, her skin, marveling at her vitality and energy. He cupped her full breasts, stroking their softness, the nipples pebbling beneath his calloused fingers. He took one into his mouth to suckle, and Hayley’s reaction was immediate. She moved against him, her thighs flexing, encasing his hips. He moved to suckle the other nipple, and she arched her back. He stayed with her, refusing to relinquish the prize. Hard to say whose control slipped first. Ray had the sense that he’d been sucked into a vortex of swirling light and emotion and sensation like nothing he’d ever experienced. Above him, Hayley slid away from him then slid back, causing tiny moments of panic and exhilaration each time. Was she even aware of what she was doing to him? Or was she lost in her own world? He had to keep her there, right there, with him. He rolled again as he neared the edge. Her nails raked his back as she clutched at him, her muscles rippling around him, forcing a response he was finally, mercifully, only too happy to give. Ray came to, that was the only way to describe it. He hadn’t fallen asleep exactly. Maybe he’d passed out from euphoria. Not that that sounded any more manly. Hayley was still underneath him, her skin hot and slick against his. He was still inside her, and her legs were locked around him as if she didn’t want to let go. “Wow,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.
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“You got that right.” He buried his face in the curve of her neck, breathing in the scent of her. She giggled. “That tickles.” “Mmm. You smell good.” “I doubt it. Not after a couple of aerobics classes, a day in a gym, and a trip to the ER.” “Not like I had time for a shower either. Do I reek?” “Uh uh.” She clasped him more tightly to her, stroking his back. “You smell like a guy.” “Gamey?” “Manly.” “Must be pheromones. They block out every other sense. Even the sense of smell.” He moved to the other shoulder and nuzzled her there. “Want me to get off you?” “Mmm. No.” “Want to go take a shower?” “Maybe later.” Eventually they did take a shower. And did get something to eat. What they didn’t get was any sleep.
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Not long ago, Andre had asked him if he was in love with Hayley. He hadn’t been able to give a definitive answer at the time, but if anyone asked him today, his answer would be, “God yes.” She snuggled against him, one arm thrown across his chest and one leg across his thighs. He brushed his hand up and down her back, drowsily content on the outside, but on the inside his mind wouldn’t shut off. What did this mean? What if he’d blown it by rushing her into bed? Oh sure, she was lying there next to him as if she didn’t have a care in the world. But a couple of weeks ago she’d burst into tears when he’d made a move on her. Oh well, too late now, he told himself philosophically. And if he didn’t get out of this fluffy pink and white and curlicued bed right now, he probably never would. Dawn light pushed in through the blinds, giving everything a hazy gray aura. He shifted away from Hayley, and she responded with a soft moan and an attempt to tighten her grip on him. “No. Don’t go.” He picked up her hand and kissed her fingertips one by one. “I have to,” he whispered. “Probably not a good idea for Fletcher to see us like this. And some of us have to work today.” “Hey, I have to work today.” She blinked her eyes open and smiled at him. “Exactly.” He patted her lightly on the hip and gave her a quick kiss before he got out of bed. “So get up and get moving.”
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“I hate you,” she whispered, still grinning at him. “No you don’t. You love me.” He’d meant it to be a funny comeback, but it didn’t quite come out that way. All of the ease and banter between them vanished. Ray let the awkwardness of the moment be what it was. He gathered his clothes and got dressed. He could feel Hayley watching him the entire time, though neither of them spoke. He didn’t look back at her before he eased the door open and let himself out. It wasn’t sex that made relationships awkward. It was the “L” word. Well, screw it, he thought as he unlocked his side of the duplex and Oscar barreled out and headed straight for his favorite patch of grass. He watched the dog relieve himself and made a decision. If he had fallen in love with Hayley, then she damn well better be in love with him. And she damn well better admit to it soon. Or else he was going to be making one huge fool of himself. And things were going to be awkward with a capital “A.”
Hayley forced herself to move, although no part of her wanted to. Her limbs felt delightfully heavy. Her whole body felt sated in a way it never had before. She shuffled to the kitchen and stared out the window while coffee brewed. Her mind seemed to be stuck on the last words Ray had spoken before he left. Did she love him? She did not want to go down that road of analysis. What was love, anyway? What did “I love you” mean? It certainly didn’t mean “I’ll stay with you forever”. Nor did it mean “I won’t sleep with someone else”.
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She’d heard “I love you” before. From Trey. And when she’d said it to him she’d meant both those things and more. She’d also meant “You’re my whole world” and “I never want to be without you”. Now here she was. She hadn’t stayed with Trey forever. He was no longer her whole world, and she had learned to live without him. And right or wrong, she’d slept with someone else. She poured her coffee and took it into the bathroom with her. She peeked in on Fletcher on the way. He was still asleep, one arm flung over his head, the sheet tangled around his knees. Poor kid. He was probably exhausted. She waited for the water to warm up and decided to make him a real breakfast instead of only cereal and juice. Some scrambled eggs and toast. He’d probably be starving since he hadn’t eaten dinner. She balanced the mug on the ledge of the tub and stepped under the spray. Memories of showering with Ray came flooding back. She relived every touch, every whisper, every sensation from last night in vivid detail. She turned the water off and wrapped a towel around her hair and another around her body. She remembered the day she’d opened the door and saw him standing there. How the ripple went through her, and she’d warned herself to stay away from him, not to let him in. That had probably been a good plan. But she hadn’t followed through, had she? Like many of her fuzzy plans, her better ideas about how to run her life, they seemed to fall by the wayside until she forgot what they were. Her plan to move to L.A. had been so crystal clear to her a few short months ago. In fact, it had seemed the only solution that would solve all her problems. Work in a field she enjoyed. The chance to finish college, finally get her degree. Friends who loved and supported her. A whole new life. And the best part was it was far away from Florida. And Trey.
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After Steffie’s death, she’d put that plan on hold to deal with Fletcher. But she hadn’t realized how complicated such a decision was going to be. She couldn’t have foreseen that Fletcher would clam up the way he had or that retaining even temporary custody of him meant she had to qualify as a foster parent. She hadn’t counted on Carlos’s potential interference, either, although in hindsight she knew she should have expected it. Maybe he had an upcoming trial to focus on while he sat in jail, and he’d forget about coming after her and his son. She hadn’t heard anything more from Niko, but she didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign. Or if it meant anything at all. All she wanted was to see Fletcher placed in a stable environment with a family who would love him and take good care of him. She hadn’t anticipated caring about him quite so much. Nor had she foreseen the impact allowing Ray into her life was going to have. Ray had become a major player in her life and in Fletcher’s life, and she wasn’t even sure how he’d done that. Except she’d let it happen. In fact, she’d crossed a line and welcomed him in. And last night? In the kitchen? When he’d come after her? Ha. She hadn’t fought him at all. Hadn’t resisted him a bit. She felt almost on even footing with Ray, in a way she never had with Trey. With Trey she’d embraced that sense of being swept away, being absorbed into the fabric of his life, his fame, his career. She’d lost herself in the process. But with Ray they met as equals. Their eyes had been opened by past tragedy. Maybe they were wary, but in a good way. It certainly hadn’t held them back last night.
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Hayley smiled at herself in the mirror as she dried her hair and got dressed. If nothing else, she could hang on to those memories, the sense of buoyant well-being that still lingered. She didn’t have to be afraid anymore. Hayley got Fletcher up and gave him a quick bath, then made him an unburnt scrambled egg and golden-brown toast. She sat at the table with him and consumed a container of yogurt with a second cup of coffee. Somehow she’d get through the day, although she’d be bone tired by the time she got home tonight. She gave Fletcher a dose of children’s pain reliever in case his stitches were bothering him. She knew Bonnie, his teacher in the day care, would let him nap extra long if he needed to. She dropped him off and explained his injuries to Bonnie. She managed to get through her two morning classes. The director of the Y had asked to see her, and after that she had an appointment with Callie Maxwell scheduled for her lunch break. Pablo waved her in right after she tapped on his open door. His office was casual in a no-nonsense sort of way, with basic furnishings, lots of sports-related posters and memorabilia, and a desk cluttered with papers, files and magazines. “Have a seat.” Gratefully, Hayley dropped into one of the two chairs in front of Pablo’s desk. She hoped she could stay awake and pay attention. “Your cheerleading classes have generated quite a bit of interest around here, as you know,” he began. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.” Hayley had only taught two. One for Molly, on a Sunday afternoon two weeks after the birthday party. And another one for her friend Hannah several weeks later. She had requests for information from a few other people as well, but no commitments as of yet.
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“Oh yes,” Pablo assured her. “Since I let you use the facility here, some of the members assumed it was sanctioned by the Y. When I explained what you were doing, a couple of them asked why the Y didn’t have a program like yours.” “They did?” “They did. As I said, I’ve been giving it some thought. I’ve talked to a couple of the board members, and I think we have a good shot for approval if we can put together a proposal.” “We?” Hayley echoed. “You and me. I’d expect you to run it, of course.” “Me?” “Who else? You’d be perfect.” “I would?” Air seemed to be whirling between her ears, comprehension of the simplest English beyond her today. “Of course.” Pablo stated this with a smile, as if there were no doubt in his mind. “But—but—I’ve never run anything in my life. I don’t have administrative experience. I don’t even have a degree.” “True. But you have some, uh, assets that are more important than experience and a degree.” Like what? Hayley wondered. She could barely manage her own life, and Pablo wanted to put her in charge of an entire program? One that hadn’t even been developed yet? Poor Pablo. He’d evidently been misinformed about her. “Look, Hayley, I don’t know you very well, and I don’t know a lot about you.” Obviously. “But what I do know is you didn’t have an ideal childhood.”
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Pablo Estevez. Master of understatement. “I think it will be easy for you to identify with a lot of the girls who will probably be in the kind of program I have in mind.” A picture of Jasmine Washington popped into Hayley’s head. She’d looked miserable during the fireworks, curled into a chair she’d purposely dragged away from the rest of the group. Hayley’d identified with much of what Callie had said to her in the restroom. How isolated Jasmine probably felt with two working parents who lived apart, even though Roscoe and his ex-wife were doing their best. The difficulty of growing up under a massive amount of peer pressure and the desire to belong somewhere, anywhere, remained. Thanks to her grandmother and Aunt Glenna, Hayley’d been kept occupied with dance and gymnastics classes along with cheerleading. She’d found something she loved to do early thanks to those two women who’d stepped up to the plate when her own mother had bailed on her. She’d been lucky, but many girls weren’t so lucky. Maybe whatever Pablo was proposing would be a way to pay tribute to them for all that they’d given her. While she’d been reminiscing, Pablo had been talking. She tuned back in. “…I figure someone with your background, you’d be a great role model. If we can get these girls excited about something, teach them some skills, give them someplace to go after school and on weekends, well, I think it could make a real difference in their lives. “I’m thinking age ten and up, maybe to sixteen?” Hayley nodded. She’d missed much of what he’d said. “And then, after sixteen, if they’re still interested in participating, we offer them paid intern positions. They start teaching what they’ve learned to the kids coming into the program.” “That sounds reasonable,” Hayley put in, trying to sound professional.
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“There will be a lot fundraising involved, which I also think is right up your alley. I know you were involved with quite a few charitable causes in Jacksonville.” “That’s true. I was involved. But that’s not the same thing as being in charge of it.” Pablo chuckled. “You probably won’t be in charge of these either. You’ll be the face, and no offense, the figure, behind the program. And the name. We’re lucky. We have quite a few board members who enjoy the fundraising aspect of the job. But as program coordinator, it will be up to you to outline what we’re doing and generate enthusiasm for it, which will hopefully open up the checkbooks of donors. We’ll need a lot of scholarship money if we’re going to involve underprivileged kids as well.” “Of course,” Hayley agreed, though she’d missed any earlier mention of the underprivileged. “Now, as for your lack of a degree.” Pablo paused. “What happened there, anyway?” He glanced down at the file he had in front of him, which Hayley realized was her personnel file when he picked up her resume. “Trey and I got engaged the year he graduated. I tried out for the Jackettes that summer, and was chosen, so I left school. I was only with them for one season because once Trey signed with the Jacks, I had to give it up. Then we got married. And, well, I ended up here.” Pablo nodded and glanced back at her resume. “You’ve only got what? Another year or so to finish?” “I guess. I mean, I don’t know how much has changed, if my credits are still acceptable. I can’t afford to go back to school right now, anyway.” She didn’t mention that having custody of Fletcher made it nearly impossible as well. Nor
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did she inform Pablo of her planned relocation to California, and that she’d already looked into finishing her degree there. “Of course you can. You’ve been here over six months, which is the end of the probationary period for permanent, full-time staff. If we get this program off the ground, you’ll get a nice bump in salary and benefits. The Y reimburses for expenses for any degree-seeking employee. We’ll make it happen.” “O-okay.” Hayley could feel herself beginning to droop from trying to absorb everything Pablo had outlined. He pushed back from his desk and stood. “Why don’t you put together some ideas, and we’ll meet again next week. We’ll have to start small and build. Our fiscal year ends in October, which means we have time to plug this into next year’s budget. We’ll have to make a presentation to the board by early September.” As soon as Hayley left Pablo’s office, she slid one of her precious dollars into the vending machine and downed a can of soda on her way to Callie’s office. She’d need sugar or caffeine or something to get her through the rest of the day.
Callie sat behind a battered metal desk in a cluttered cubicle on the first floor of the rather rundown social services building a few blocks from the Y. She greeted Hayley and gestured to one of the wooden chairs on the other side of her desk. “You look different,” she commented as she studied Hayley for a moment before opening her file. “I do? I can’t imagine why.”
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“Hmm. You look like you got yourself some good lovin’, that’s what. And if you tell my supervisor I made such an inappropriate comment, I’ll deny it.” Callie grinned at her. Stunned, Hayley wisely kept her mouth shut. She’d once viewed Callie Maxwell as a pencil-pushing, cross-the-t’s-and-dot-the-i’s bureaucrat hoping to catch her doing something she shouldn’t. But since Callie became involved with Roscoe, she seemed to have loosened up. Or maybe Hayley’s perception of her had changed. Or possibly Callie was also the recipient of “some good lovin’” and that had changed her attitude. That also might explain the number of early morning visits she’d made, even though, as she’d pointed out, she was required to vary the times when she stopped by unannounced. If she spent the nights with Roscoe, she wouldn’t be far from Hayley’s neighborhood the next morning. “Well, let’s see. This isn’t going to take too long. You been approved.” “What?” “I said you’ve been approved to be a foster parent.” “I have? You’re kidding.” “No, ma’am. I’m not kidding. I did all the paperwork and all the home visits myself. I have your background check right here. There’s nothing that says you can’t be a foster parent, so you are one.” “But…I thought…all the negative publicity, the divorce—” “Ain’t nothing says divorced people can’t take care of kids. As far as the state is concerned there’s no proof you did anything wrong or immoral or illegal no matter what gets printed in newspapers.” “The DUI—I didn’t think—” “It was almost two years ago,” Callie reminded her. “No priors. You paid your fine, did your community service, took the class. Your drug test came back clean. State says it’s okay.”
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Almost two years ago, Hayley thought. The beginning of the end. She and Trey had been invited to a house party in Key West. Deep sea fishing, golf, sunbathing and a weekend of shopping, fine dining and camaraderie awash with morning Bloody Marys and Mimosas followed by afternoon Margaritas around the pool and cocktails with dinner. Hayley’d had to take a later flight due to a conflict in her schedule. She’d agreed to be part of a celebrity fashion show to raise money for a shelter for abused women. The irony of it didn’t escape her. She was supposed to meet Trey at the party, but when she arrived there was no sign of him, and no one knew where he was. Hayley had a couple of drinks and mingled with a few people she knew, but Trey’s absence nagged at her. He was still recovering from his first knee surgery, and things had not been progressing smoothly. The host had encouraged the guests to explore the extensive grounds and the mansion itself. He’d made it clear he expected his guests to enjoy themselves, and nothing was off-limits. As she stepped outside, Hayley snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. She sipped at it as she circled the swimming pool, which would have rivaled that of any luxury resort hotel. She was already a bit tipsy from the two earlier cocktails and she hadn’t eaten, too wound up and worried over Trey’s behavior of late. At the far end of the pool area was a guest cottage, she supposed, although it was almost too big to be classified as a cottage. Still, it looked charming from the outside, with its arbor of bougainvillea, which lent privacy to a tiled terrace. Hayley peeked into a window to see the décor was a sort of Moroccaninspired café. She found the door unlocked and stepped inside. After investigating the living area and kitchen, she wondered if the theme had been
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carried throughout. A wide hallway led to several closed doors. She opened the first one and came to an abrupt halt. The champagne glass slid from her hand, to the slate tile, startling the occupants of the bed. Her gaze clashed with Trey’s before she noticed the naked, Asian-looking woman atop him, glaring at her. Hayley turned and ran. Across the pool deck, through the maze of guests, her vision blurred. She slid across the tile in four-inch heels and her spaghettistrapped Calvin Klein cocktail dress, until she was outside once again. She couldn’t breathe, but she had to keep moving, had to get out of there, though what she’d seen was burned into her retinas for eternity. She stumbled to her rental car, somehow retaining the presence of mind to retrieve her purse on the way out. Since she’d arrived late, her car wasn’t blocked in. The engine roared to life, and she’d driven half a mile before she remembered to put the lights on. Maybe that’s what alerted a patrolling police officer. Or maybe she’d slid across the yellow line once too often. Hayley never knew, but swirling red lights appeared in her rearview mirror, and she wasn’t far enough gone not to realize what that meant. She and Trey had never recovered from the aftermath of that night. His half-hearted apologies and excuses combined with her humiliation tore them apart. Hayley’d always thought of that night as the beginning of the end, for once she discovered undeniable proof of his infidelity, Trey was less inclined to bother hiding it. The doctors provided the pain pills, the liquor store delivered, and soon she barely recognized her husband. Or herself. She supposed if the state of Florida was willing to overlook her transgressions, she could too. She’d certainly learned her lesson and never got behind the wheel of a car with so much as a drop of alcohol in her system. But still, she couldn’t quite believe she’d been approved as a foster parent.
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She addressed Callie again. “But what about those home visits, when…other people were there?” “There’s nothing that says you can’t have guests in your home. No hankypanky going on with any of them either. Least not then.” Callie grinned at her knowingly. “So you can be Fletcher’s foster mommy, but I gotta talk to you about something else too.” She pulled several paper-clipped sheets of paper out of one of the file pockets. “Carlos José Mariano.” Hayley’s heart froze. “He’s out of jail? He wants Fletcher back?” “Nope.” Callie held up the pages. “He relinquished parental rights.” Hayley sagged back in her chair. “I didn’t think he would. At least not so easily.” “It’s possible Mr. Mariano had some incentive dangled in front of him. I’m not saying he did, but you know, it could happen. If the charges against him stick, he won’t be going anywhere but a jail cell for the foreseeable future. Since he gave up his parental rights, it means the state takes permanent custody of Fletcher. It also means Fletcher can and will be put up for adoption.” Hayley breathed a sigh of relief. This was the outcome she’d hoped for. That Carlos would let Fletcher go without a fight. That Fletcher would find a good home with a proper family to provide for him, to take care of him. To love him. “You want to adopt him, right?” “What?” Hayley stared at Callie. “Me? No. I can’t adopt him.” “Sure you can. You’re already done with the background check. You passed. Adoption is a matter of more paperwork and some legal fees. The state will help you out with that.” Hayley shook her head. “No. No. I’m not—I can’t. I mean, I love Fletcher. He’s a good kid. And I promised Steffie, his mother, I’d do what I could for him.
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But I can’t adopt him. He needs—I wouldn’t be able to provide what he needs.” Protection from Carlos. “He needs a real family.” An anonymous, completely unrelated family so Carlos can’t find him. “What’s that? What’s a real family?” Callie asked as if she genuinely wanted to know. Hayley stared at her. “You know. A mother. A father. A house. Maybe some other kids around. A family. People who will love him.” “You said you loved him,” Callie pointed out. “Yes. I do. But I’m just learning how to be on my own, how to take care of myself. I want to go back to school. I’ve got a real job lined up with a friend of mine in L.A. I have to get my act together, you know? Adopting Fletcher wouldn’t be a good idea.” She was babbling, she knew, unable to think clearly. She hadn’t told Callie or anyone else the real reason she couldn’t adopt Fletcher. She’d made a deal with the devil but she was afraid to renege on it now, since Carlos had apparently kept his part of the bargain by giving up his parental rights. Callie tilted her head to one side, her gaze piercing. “For you or for him?” Hayley lifted her chin. “For both of us. Fletcher can do much better. I’m in no position to give him what he needs.” “And what is it you think he needs?” “What Fletcher needs most is to be protected from Carlos Mariano. The only way Carlos would agree to give up his parental rights is if I agreed not to adopt Fletcher. Now can we drop this?” Callie’s continued questioning made Hayley uncomfortable. She didn’t want to examine too closely her motives for not adopting Fletcher at the first opportunity. She had her reasons. She knew they were the right ones. But with her head filled with cotton, yet seeming to weigh a ton, her own answers confused her.
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“Okay then. If you’re sure.” “I’m sure.” Callie looked back down at the papers in front of her. She began filling in a form, her pen checking off small square boxes and scribbling notes. “Fletcher’s information and picture will go up on the DCW web site. We do some outings so he can meet people looking to adopt. I’ll let you know when.” “Okay. Is there anything else?” “Nope,” Callie said with a disappointing finality in her tone. “That will be all.” Hayley had been dismissed. “All right. Good-bye then.” She turned and left on the echo of Callie’s good-bye. She slogged through the afternoon, pushing away thoughts of her conversation with Callie, and of last night with Ray. If she thought about either of them too much, she might have to admit to herself that she didn’t know what she was doing with either situation, although she felt more sure of herself where Fletcher was concerned. Of course, she’d had longer to think about that, and she knew she was in no position to adopt him. If she’d needed any further convincing, her behavior last night had done it. She’d panicked and run off to the ER like a chicken with its head cut off. She’d dumped Molly in the waiting room and left her there. She didn’t have her purse or her cell phone. She hadn’t called Ray or Rick to tell them what had happened. She still wasn’t clear on how they’d all ended up at the hospital in near-record time. Except that Molly had used Kaylee’s phone. Even an eight-year-old had more presence of mind than she did when disaster struck. That ought to tell everyone something. She probably should have told Callie Maxwell about that. Maybe she wouldn’t be so quick to suggest that Hayley adopt Fletcher.
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She checked on him twice during the afternoon. Bonnie had decided to let him continue sleeping after she got the other kids up from nap time. And she’d given him another dose of pain reliever at lunch time. Other than that, he seemed to be doing okay. On the way home Hayley stopped at Publix and splurged on a rotisserie chicken with all the fixings. She was practically brain dead. Meal planning and preparation were beyond her. Ray’s Explorer wasn’t in the driveway. For once, Fletcher didn’t seem to mind. He ate more than usual and fell asleep before Hayley was halfway through Are You My Mother? Hayley couldn’t wait to brush her teeth and crawl into bed. She hoped Ray was doing the same even though it was only 8:30.
Roscoe had been humming happily all day long, and it was starting to get on Ray’s nerves. During their morning coffee session, he’d learned the reason why. Ray’s eyes were gritty from lack of sleep and his body was so relaxed he felt boneless. He slumped against the Explorer and eyed Roscoe, who was grinning from ear to ear as he handed Ray his coffee. “What are you so damned happy about?” Ray growled. “I’m in love.” Roscoe’s grin widened, if that were possible. “Thought that was old news. Unless you dumped Callie and found someone else.” “Nope. But I’m more in love with her than I was before.” “How is that possible?” Ray asked irritably. The certainty of Roscoe’s future with Callie annoyed him when his own situation with Hayley was up in the air and he had no idea where he stood with her.
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“You know what that woman did?” “Nope.” Ray sipped his coffee and hoped the caffeine would improve his mood, or at least wake him up a little. “She called me up yesterday and asks can she pick Jasmine up at school. Sharla says it’s okay with her, so I tell her go ahead. Callie takes Jas to the McDonald’s there on Spring Street and guess who’s waiting for her?” Roscoe paused, as if he genuinely expected Ray to guess. Ray obliged. “The Hamburglar?” “Nope. Serena. Jas’s friend. The one Callie yanked out of her momma’s house last year.” “Really?” No wonder Roscoe was happy. “Yep. She let them go sit outside together, and she stayed out of their way. Jas said Serena told her going into foster care was the best thing that could have happened to her. She got placed with a woman in Westlake. She’s doing good in school, staying out of trouble. “Callie told Jas if they want to get together again, she’ll drive her up to Westlake or pick Serena up and bring her here.” “Wow, Roscoe. That’s great. Jasmine’s okay with Callie, huh?” “Ha. Better than okay. Before I dropped her off last night Jas asked when was I going to marry Callie and can she be in the wedding.” Ray drained the rest of his coffee and followed Roscoe to the job site. Roscoe had done everything right with Callie. To begin with, he’d asked her out on a date. A real date, not dinner at his house with children present. Yes, there’d been some bumps in the road for the two of them, but it looked as if they were going to make it work. Ray couldn’t help being a little bit envious of Roscoe. As darkness fell, they were still on a job. Ray was bone tired and wondering why he’d ever chosen anything to do with carpentry or construction
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as a profession. He’d been out of sorts all day, and he knew Roscoe had noticed. Ray had about had it with Roscoe’s good-natured suggestions as to what had caused his mood. “We’re almost done here. How about I buy you a beer when we’re finished?” Ray knew that was Roscoe’s way of having more of a chance to probe. For all that Roscoe was one of his best friends, he didn’t want to discuss Hayley with him. He didn’t want to hear Roscoe’s platitudes or advice. He wanted to go home and go to bed and get some sleep. “I’ll take a raincheck, okay? I’m beat.” Roscoe wisely didn’t pursue it. Instead he changed the subject entirely. “Anyway, now that I know Jasmine’s okay with it, I’m going to ask Callie to marry me.” “What!” Ray wobbled on the ladder before he regained his balance. He stared at Roscoe. “You barely know her.” “Oh, I know her,” Roscoe assured him with a self-satisfied grin. “I know she’s the one.” “You have got to be kidding me. You’re going to propose after what? A couple of months? You’ve been single practically your whole life. How can you be sure?” Roscoe shrugged as he adjusted another length of crown molding, lining it up with the last one. “Hand me a shim.” Ray complied, and Roscoe did some more adjusting before using his nail gun to secure his end. “I can’t exactly tell you how. I only know I am.” “And Callie? You think she’ll say yes? You think she’s sure too?” Roscoe’s eyes twinkled. “Yep.” “But what if—”
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“Can’t live your life on ‘what ifs’,” Roscoe informed him. “Take your brother and Kaylee, for example. They hardly knew each other, what…six months, before they were walking down the aisle. Rick knew Brenda since junior high and look how that worked out. Don’t be thinking knowing somebody is a substitute for knowing somebody. When you know, you just know.” “Roscoe Washington, Master Philosopher,” Ray muttered under his breath. “Yeah, well, no man ever got what he wanted by sittin’ on his ass. You want something, you better go for it before the opportunity passes you by.” “You got a ring and everything?” In spite of himself, Ray was curious. Was Roscoe that sure? “Got one picked out. Put a deposit on it.” “What if she hates it? What if it’s not what she wants?” Roscoe glanced his way and gave him a disbelieving look. “She ain’t gonna hate it. What got into you? You ain’t usually such a downer. Why you rainin’ on my parade today?” “Sorry. I’m happy for you. It’s great.” “That’s better.”
On the drive home, he couldn’t stop thinking about Roscoe and Callie, but the more he thought about it, the more he began to wonder if Roscoe didn’t have something with his when you know you know philosophy. It was true. Rick and his first wife had known each other since junior high. Maybe even before that. They’d dated all through high school and got married shortly afterward. And that hadn’t worked out.
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Heck, his own parents had had a whirlwind romance and they were still together all these years later. Maybe rushing into something when you knew it was the right thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all. As exhausted as he was, when he parked in front of the duplex and saw the lights out on Hayley’s side, he couldn’t stop the wave of disappointment that washed through him. He felt as if he’d done everything wrong. Everything was backwards. He was in love with her, and they’d never even been on a date. They’d had mindblowing sex, but no definitive relationship. There was a whole lot going on between them, but Ray was beginning to wonder if it was only in his head. Had he imagined it all or was there something real and genuine there? Had he built this idea of a future with Hayley, one that included Fletcher, as easily as he’d built the swingset out back? Suddenly he was assailed by doubt because it occurred to him that he had no idea how Hayley felt about anything. About him. About their future. If she even thought they had one. What if he’d rushed her after all, and she was ready to run the other way? He unlocked the door and let Oscar out. The puppy did his business and ran in crazy circles around the yard, stopping to sniff here and there and occasionally charging back to Ray for his approval. Ray watched the dog, thinking what a mess he’d made with his approach to Hayley. He’d known Caroline casually for a couple of years, and they’d dated for two before he’d proposed. Of course, he reminded himself, that was no guarantee of anything. When it got right down to it, how well did you ever know anyone?
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Hayley thought she’d known her ex-husband too, and he did a number on her. Ray yawned and whistled to Oscar, who came running, tongue lolling, eyes bright in the dim light of the porch. Ray rubbed him behind the ears. “You’re a good dog, you know that? Don’t let anyone tell you different.” He fed Oscar, ignored his own growling stomach and fell into bed.
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Chapter Twenty-Three
The next night, Ray made a point of getting home early. He took a shower and waited for Hayley to arrive. He’d thought all day about what he could do that she would like, how to approach her now. He was afraid she’d back away after the other night. Maybe he’d scared her off. He stopped at Publix on the way home and bought some chicken and shrimp, bread, stuff for a salad and a bottle of the cheap white zinfandel Hayley appeared to prefer. He hadn’t figured out if she drank it because it was all she could afford or if she’d still be drinking it when she won the lottery. He paused at the store’s floral display, debating he wisdom of showing up with flowers, being that he’d never done it before. Would it be strange if he did it now after they’d spent one night together? He didn’t know and decided not to take the chance. He went with what he knew. Hayley hated to cook, and she wasn’t very good at it. And she liked cheap white zin. That ought to speak volumes to her about how he felt. More than a dozen red roses for sure. By the time he got home, he’d decided he should have gone with roses, but it was too late to make a return trip to the store. He didn’t like not knowing where he stood with Hayley. They needed to get some stuff settled between them. Sooner rather than later or he was going to go nuts.
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He opened the door to let Oscar out the minute Hayley’s car pulled to a stop. She got out and let Fletcher out of the back. Oscar’s tail wagged in delight when Fletcher bent down to pet him. “How you doing, Fletch?” he asked the boy. Ray put a hand on Fletcher’s head. The stitched area appeared to be healing nicely. Fletcher gazed up at him for a minute before taking off after Oscar. Ray turned his attention to Hayley, reminding himself to be cool. To breathe. Yeah. Right. She looked delectable in a soft, pink, short-sleeved hoodie and matching shorts. Robust. Healthy. Fit. Her hair falling out of the clip like it always was. Her eyes bright. He couldn’t take his eyes off her and said the first thing that popped into his head. “Your ex-husband is an idiot.” Hayley laughed in delight. “Yes. I believe we’ve established that.” He had to touch her. He cupped her face, which was becoming his favorite thing to do because that way he could touch her skin and her hair at the same time. He kissed her. She kissed back. So far so good. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Wow. That’s nice to come home to.” “I’m going to make you dinner.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You are?” “And I bought you some wine.” “You did? Hey, I could go for a guy like you.” He gazed over the top of her head for minute before looking into her eyes once more. “I should have brought you flowers…” “What for?” “I was going to.”
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“You were?” Hayley bit her lip. Ray had no idea why he was confessing. “But I thought, I don’t know, like it would be a weird thing to do. I never brought you flowers before.” “But you have made dinner for me. And you know I like that. So you went with what you knew.” “Yeah. But I can still get you some flowers.” “Oh, Ray. Unless they’re edible, don’t bother.” “I was thinking maybe roses.” Fletcher came back to them with Oscar, his face flushed from exertion. Oscar was panting like mad from his run around the yard in the heat. “Let’s go in,” she said to Fletcher. To Ray she said, “Give me about an hour, okay?”
Dinner was over, though Hayley could still taste the succulent shrimp and tender chicken on her tongue. Ray knew his way around a barbeque grill. She hadn’t quite known what to expect when she saw him again. Not after the way he’d left the other morning. But they were on an even keel again. Sort of. Hayley wasn’t dumb. Ray had been giving her searching looks off and on all evening, as if he were looking for a sign or signal from her. But she didn’t know what sign or signal to send. She was feeling her way along in new territory. She was in no position to give him any guidance. He got Fletcher in the bathtub, and she could hear them, or rather she could hear Ray making exploding noises along with lots of splashing, so she assumed Fletcher’s boats were engaged in some kind of war.
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Fletcher streaked across the room in his underwear, his skin rosy. Ray tagged along, holding a pair of pajamas. “Tell Hayley goodnight and let’s go read a story.” Fletcher slammed into Hayley’s legs and wrapped his arms around them. He tilted his head back as far as it would go to look up at her. He smiled at her, and her heart almost stopped. Even through his ordeal night before last he hadn’t said a word. He’d barely whimpered, though his face and body language showed his distress. But now the corners of his lips turned up slightly as he stared up at her. Hayley pushed damp hair back from his forehead. She bent and kissed him and rubbed his back. “Night, Fletch.” Then she whispered in his ear. “I love you.” He gave her another squeeze and let go, back to Ray. Before long Ray reappeared. “Out like a light,” he informed her as he crossed the room and came up behind her. She’d poured a glass of the wine he’d brought and pushed the cork back into the bottle. He slid his arms around her and said the four words she least wanted to hear. “We need to talk.” What she wanted to say was Do we have to do this now? It had been a darn near perfect evening. Why couldn’t it stay that way? “And yes, I’m aware you’d rather not.” His lips brushed her earlobe and she shivered. “You want to go outside? Do you need your cigarette?” His voice was a low, sexy growl and another shiver ran up her spine. She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t have any.” Ray lifted his head. “Quitting?” He caught her eye in the reflection of the darkened window. “It’s unhealthy and it’s a stupid habit.” “Oh. I thought maybe you didn’t think you deserved it or something.”
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“I deserve more.” There was unmistakable defiance in her tone. She wouldn’t get any argument from him. He turned her around. “How about me?” “You deserve more too.” She told him solemnly. He laughed. “No. I meant how about me. I think you deserve me.” “I’ve had you, Ray. Or have you already forgotten night before last?” “Uh no. I most certainly have not forgotten. But I think you deserve more.” “All right. Now you’re talking.” Hayley grabbed his hand and started in the direction of the bedroom, but he pulled her back. “That’s not what I meant.” So much for her plan to distract him from the we need to talk conversation. She’d learned that technique from Trey. Whenever she opened with a we need to talk line, he’d distract her with sex. Ray wasn’t quite so easily distracted. “I must be losing my touch,” she teased. “Not hardly.” He handed her the glass of wine and led her to the sofa. She set the wine on the table and watched him warily. He sat at an angle, slightly forward, hands clasped. Butterflies set up a whole new pattern in her stomach. She picked up her wine, took a sip and waited. “Is this real?” he finally asked. “Is what real?” “You and me.” He gestured around the room, indicating the entire duplex. He cleared his throat. “The other night.” His gaze pinned hers. She didn’t know what he was asking. “I don’t know what you mean. It happened. We’re here. It’s real.” “But what I don’t know is how you feel.” “About what?”
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“About me. About us. About anything.” Baffled, Hayley took another nervous sip of wine. No one ever, not Trey, not her mother certainly, no one in her life had ever asked her how she felt. She’d fallen in love with Trey, and she’d told him so. He never had to ask. He knew. Her mother never wanted to know anything. And if Hayley tried to tell her, at an early age, before she learned there was no point, her mother shut her down. She didn’t want to hear it. Her grandmother and her aunt, while they’d taken care of her, watched over her when her mother hadn’t been able to, they’d had their own lives, jobs, other concerns. Hayley got whatever they had left over to give her, but there hadn’t been a lot of heart-to-heart talks with anyone. Now here was Ray, asking. How do you feel? What do you feel? Wanting to know. This was important to him, and she supposed, given what she knew about his wife, she could understand why. He needed to know where he stood. Caroline had taught him never to assume anything. In his own way, Hayley thought, Ray was as wary as she was. Her tendency was to run for cover and keep everything inside. His was to get it out in the open. She said what she’d wanted to say earlier. “Do we have to talk about this?” “Tell me what you’re feeling. Right now.” “Terrified.” “Good. Me too. Why?” “Because I’ll say something stupid. Or something you don’t want to hear. And you’ll walk out the door.” “The only thing you could tell me that I don’t want to hear is that you want me to walk out the door.” “I don’t.”
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“Why not?” “Because I like having you here. I like you.” “Well, that’s a start, I guess.” “Okay. More than like you.” The butterflies stopped beating their wings. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all. “How much more?” Ray pushed. “What? Like on a scale of one to ten?” “Yeah. Okay.” “I don’t know. Maybe an…eight?” “What do I have to do to get to a ten?” “I don’t know. Give me some time?” Hayley kept her gaze locked on Ray’s. “And maybe do that thing you did the other night?” Ray moved closer. “What thing?” He pushed her hair back and kissed her right below the ear. His teeth nipped her earlobe. “Well, yeah, there was that. But there was this other thing…”
A few days later, Ray knocked at the sliding glass door then opened it when he spied Hayley in the kitchen. He stuck his head inside. “Hey, is Fletcher around? Can I borrow him for a minute?” Earlier, Hayley had built a tent for Fletcher in the living room by draping sheets and blankets over the sofa and anchoring them on the coffee table. Fletcher had been dragging stuffed animals, books and trucks from his room to the tent for an hour. The moment he heard Ray’s voice, he scrambled out from beneath the sheet. “I guess you have your answer.”
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“Hey, buddy,” Ray greeted him. “I’ve got something for you.” Fletcher followed Ray out the door. Hayley watched them traipse across the backyard, past the swing set to Ray’s shop. Fletcher reached up to take Ray’s hand. Ray didn’t normally work on the weekends, but he’d been in his shop more than usual the past several days. Hayley wondered what it was he wanted to show Fletcher. They gained the concrete pad in front of the overhead door and Ray let go of Fletcher’s hand. He disappeared into the shop while Fletcher waited outside. In seconds Ray returned carrying a rocking horse. He set it down near Fletcher and hunkered next to him and spoke to him, pointing at the horse. Fletcher stepped forward, climbed on and started rocking. Even from this distance, Hayley could sense his delight. The horse was substantial and sturdily built. Fletcher could probably get a couple of years of use out of it. Knowing Ray’s penchant for fine craftsmanship, she had no doubt of its quality. If Fletcher was adopted, no—when Fletcher was adopted, he could take the rocking horse to his new home. Perhaps there’d be other children there who would enjoy it as well. It’d be like a little piece of Ray going with him. Hayley turned away from the window and went into the laundry room. She didn’t want to think about Ray, because that meant she’d have to think about how she felt about him. About them. She pulled the dryer door open and stared at the pile of clean laundry. What had she done? Had she gone and fallen in love with Ray? After all of her warnings to herself not to, had she done exactly that? She yanked a stillwarm bath towel out of the dryer and clutched it to her like a security blanket as she slid to the floor with her back to the wall. Falling in love with Ray had not been part of the plan. What was she going to do? Come up with Plan B? She
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groaned at the thought. The ripple effect had been bad enough, but now she had this sort of sick feeling inside that history was about to repeat itself. That Ray would walk away from her the same way Trey had, and there she’d be, an even worse mess than before. Ray isn’t Trey. She knew that. Ray had pointed it out to her more than once. But she wasn’t sure her heart was ready to acknowledge the difference. Believing in forever twice seemed a bit of an oxymoron, didn’t it? Forever was supposed to last, well, forever. When it didn’t, then forever lost all meaning. She didn’t doubt Ray’s belief in forever. Maybe because his wife had died rather than making a choice to leave him, it was easier for him to believe. He’d have stayed with her as he’d vowed to do on their wedding day. Hayley had made the same vow to Trey. Then he’d shattered her belief in “until death do us part”. Hayley folded the last towel and slammed the dryer door with more force than necessary. She hated the way her thoughts seemed to go round and round without ever reaching a satisfying conclusion. “Maybe I need therapy,” she muttered to herself as she went back to the kitchen. She gazed across the yard to Ray’s shop, and the breath caught in her throat. Fletcher was no longer riding the horse. Ray sat next to him, and Fletcher’s hand was cupped close to Ray’s ear. Was Fletcher talking? To Ray? Hayley stared, hardly aware that her hand had come up to press against her chest, that her mouth had fallen open in surprise. She thought she saw Ray nod. Fletcher dropped his hand, and Ray said something to him. Then Fletcher nodded. What in the world was going on? And how long had it been going on? Had Fletcher begun to talk to Ray, and Ray hadn’t bothered to tell her? If so, how
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was she supposed to trust him? Why would he keep something like that from her? Hand in hand, they started back to the duplex. Hayley took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself, warning herself to act normally. Ray slid the door open and they stepped inside. Ray looked delighted with himself. He grinned at Hayley. She made herself smile back, hoping he wouldn’t notice the suspicion in her gaze. “A rocking horse, huh?” She switched her attention to Fletcher. “I bet you liked that.” Fletcher nodded. He glanced back at Ray. “I’ll bring it over here later, if that’s all right with you,” Ray said to Hayley. “Sure.” “And I was thinking maybe you guys would like to go out to dinner tonight? How about Aurelio’s?” Aurelio’s was an Italian restaurant in Jannings Point. Hayley had never been there. “Sure.” “Okay. I’m going to go shower and change. I’ll be back.” He ruffled Fletcher’s hair and gave Hayley a smile. She watched him step through the sliding door and head back to his side of the duplex before she returned her attention to Fletcher. “Let’s go get cleaned up, Fletch.” She steered him in the direction of the bathroom. “Would you like spaghetti for dinner? Or maybe a pizza that hasn’t been frozen and burnt?”
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All through dinner, Hayley found herself watching Ray and Fletcher, looking for signs of secret communication. They behaved as they always did, however, with Fletcher not saying a word and Ray talking to him anyway. The table was covered with white butcher paper, and the waitress had left two crayons for Fletcher after she’d introduced herself and written her own name on one corner for them. Hayley tried to remember the last time she’d been out for dinner in a real restaurant. It had been a long time. Aurelio’s was fairly crowded on a Sunday night, but the service and the food were good. She wasn’t sure Fletcher knew quite what to make of it. It occurred to her maybe he’d never been in a restaurant in his young life. But when his food came, a version of spaghetti with pasta easily manageable for a child, he dug in. At least she didn’t have to worry about public tantrums with Fletcher, she reminded herself, when a father at a nearby table escorted one of his children outside before the decibel level reached ear-shattering proportions. Fletcher stared after the two. “Don’t get any ideas, Fletch,” Ray told him. “That’s not the way to behave in public.” “Luckily, we don’t have to worry about that,” Hayley chimed in. “Yeah, well. You never know,” Ray replied. What was that supposed to mean, Hayley wondered. That Fletcher might open his mouth and start talking at any moment? That maybe he already had, but only in Ray’s presence? By the time Fletcher fell asleep, Hayley had about had it. She came out of Fletcher’s room and stood directly in front of the television where Ray had tuned in ESPN.
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“Hey, I’m missing the highlights.” He leaned to one side to see around her. Hayley snatched up the remote control and turned the TV off. “Hey,” Ray objected. “What’d you do that for?” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him. “Because we need to talk.” “Uh oh.” He stood and took the two steps he needed in order to wrap his arms around her. He took the remote control away from her and tossed it onto the sofa. “How about if we talk later?” He pushed her hair back and nuzzled her neck. Hayley felt his touch all the way down her body. Already he knew where her most sensitive spots were and exactly what to do with them. His lips lingered right below and behind her ear, and her eyes rolled back in her head followed by a deliciously dizzy sensation that promised more pleasure to come. He kissed her. Oh God, she loved the way he kissed, the way he held her head in his hands, his fingers sliding into her hair, as if she was the most precious thing he’d ever touched. She kissed back until she realized what he was doing. The same thing Trey always did. The same thing she’d tried to do to him. Use sex to avoid a conversation. She broke the kiss. “Hey, no fair. I want to ask you something.” “Ask away,” Ray replied. He held her close and swayed slightly with her in his arms. “Stop it. I can’t think when you do that.” He didn’t let go and he didn’t stop. “That’s the idea.” “Ray.” She pushed against him until he released her. “What?” He still held her hands and his eyes looked dreamy. Bedroom eyes. “Is Fletcher talking? To you?”
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His expression changed subtly, sharpened a bit. “No. Not exactly.” “What do you mean, ‘not exactly’? I saw him today when he was with you, after he got off the rocking horse. It looked like he was whispering in your ear.” Ray sighed. He tugged on her hand and led her back to the sofa. “I was going to tell you, but it didn’t seem like there was anything to tell.” Hayley frowned. “Well, is he talking to you or isn’t he?” Ray shook his head. “It’s hard to describe. He’s only done it a couple of times.” “Done what?” “He sort of mouths words into my ear. It’s not even a whisper, exactly. It’s like he’s talking, but no sound comes out. His lips are moving, but he doesn’t actually speak.” “But today…you acted like you knew what he said…or I guess…what he didn’t say.” “Yeah, well, I think I do. I pretend I do. I mean, come on, Hayley, he’s four years old. It’s not hard to figure out what’s going through his head after he got a ride on a rocking horse which he clearly enjoyed.” “What do you think he was saying? Or not saying.” Ray shrugged. “That he liked it. That it was fun. Something along those lines.” Hayley thought for a moment about what Ray had told her. There didn’t seem to be anything more to say. She climbed into his lap, straddling him. She leaned forward so she could kiss him in the same place he’d kissed her earlier, then she sank her teeth gently into his earlobe. “You know what?” she whispered. “You’re good at communicating without words.”
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A knock at the door a few moments later halted what was becoming quite an interesting prelude to the rest of the evening. “Who’s that?” Ray whispered. He withdrew his hands from underneath Hayley’s shirt and stared over her shoulder at the door. “I don’t know.” She got off his lap and peeked out the sidelight. She sighed, rested her forehead against the door for a second before she unlocked and opened it, blocking access with her body. “What do you want?” Hayley asked the woman on the other side. “Well, goshdarnit, Hayley. Is that any way to greet your own mother?” Hayley stared at the woman who’d given birth to her and felt little other than pity. Her mother’s hair, as usual, was brittle and dry from too many hits from the bleach bottle. She wore a V-necked top that showed too much of her middle-aged cleavage, snug leggings that ended just below the knee, and wedgeheeled flip-flops, her version of high heels. Somehow her mother still managed to exude a sort of downtrodden sensuality that a certain kind of man would find appealing. She looked years older than she was, which Hayley blamed on too many cigarettes, an excess of booze and drugs, and a lifetime of involvement with unsuitable men. She gazed beyond the screened porch into the darkness to see the glow of a cigarette. She could barely make out a pickup truck and some guy leaning up against it. Some things never changed. “What do you want?” Hayley repeated, even though she knew the answer. Vaguely, she wondered how her mother had found her. She hadn’t seen or heard from her in over two years. “Well now, honey, what makes you think I want anything at all? I’ve come to visit my little girl is all.” Her voice had developed the raspy hoarseness of a long-time smoker.
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“I can’t help you,” Hayley said, deciding there and then that she’d never smoke another cigarette. Her mother gave a withering glance at the surroundings, the small screen porch with the cheap lawn chairs, the small-town neighborhood itself. “You sure have come down in the world, huh, girl? You’re just like your mama. Don’t know when you’ve got it good and can’t hang onto a man.” “I’m nothing like you,” Hayley choked out, everything inside her hoping it was true. “Everything okay?” She felt Ray’s hand on her shoulder. “It’s fine.” “Oh, well, I see you got another one on the line.” Hayley’s mother grinned as she peered up at what she could see of Ray. “Don’t let no grass grow under your feet, that’s what I always say.” She cackled, showing an area where she was missing a tooth. She started to cough. Digging into the huge purse she had slung over her shoulder, she extracted an extra-long filter cigarette and lit it with a pink disposable lighter. “Listen, me and Johnny there—” she swung her chin over her shoulder to indicate the man near the truck, “—we don’t need much. Just a place to stay for the night. Maybe a few bucks for some supplies.” “No. I can’t help you.” “Aw, come on, girl. We’re family. Families help each other.” Hayley shook her head. “Nope. No more. You need to leave now.” “Hey, how about you?” she asked, looking at Ray. “This your place?” Doing an about-face, she glanced around as if in approval. “That your Explorer? It’s nice.” She brought her gaze back to Ray. “I’m Darlene, by the way. How’s my girl treating you?” She looked at Hayley again and lowered her voice, but not by much. “Can’t believe you let Trey get away. Honey, you should have had him
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wrapped around your finger the way I told you. But you never did listen to me, all Miss High and Mighty, bouncing around and smiling. ‘Look at me, ain’t I a cute little cheerleader?’ Well, it sure didn’t do much for you did it, all them gymnastics lessons and dance classes—” “Excuse me.” Ray edged past Hayley and took Darlene by the elbow. “Ray, don’t—” “I got this,” he said. “Ma’am, why don’t you come with me now?” He got the screen door open and herded Darlene through it even as she protested. “Hey, who do you think you are? I wasn’t done visiting with my daughter—” “Yes, ma’am, I believe you are,” he informed her as they approached Johnny, who straightened away from the truck. “And who I am is the owner of this property. Consider yourself escorted off of it, and don’t make me call the cops. Get in your truck.” He nodded at Johnny to include him in the statement. “And go. And don’t come back unless you can show your daughter some respect.” “Aw, come on, mister. All I wanted was a few bucks.” “Too bad.” Ray pointed at the vehicle. “Go.” Resignedly, the two got into the truck. Johnny put it in gear and they backed out. Ray waited until the taillights disappeared around the corner heading back toward the main road before he turned and stalked back to the porch where Hayley waited for him. “Sorry about that.” “You okay?” “Yeah, sure.” She didn’t sound okay. They went back inside and Ray wrapped his arms around her. He kissed the top of her head. She looked up at him. “Trey always
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gave her money. No matter how many times I told him not to, he did it anyway. He felt sorry for her, he said, but he enabled her. She must have had the shock of her life when she found out Trey and I are divorced, and he wasn’t such an easy target anymore.” “Hard to believe that’s your mother. She looks like she’s had a hard life.” They retreated to the couch. “I guess she has had a hard life, but I always looked at it like she brought it on herself. She’s had so many chances to get her act together. My grandmother tried for years to help her, getting her into rehab more times than I can count. She’d get out and get a job, and for a while things would be okay. But she couldn’t hang on to her sobriety for very long. Back I’d go to Grandma’s or to my aunt, until we all finally gave up on her.” “So sad,” Ray murmured. “What a waste. What about your dad?” “Don’t know who he is. I don’t even know if my mother knows.” “Wow, that’s amazing.” “What’s so amazing? According to Maury Povich, it happens all the time.” Ray grinned. “Not that. That you turned out great in spite of your parents. Parent. And don’t argue with me,” he added when Hayley opened her mouth to protest. She let it go. “I did figure out early on that I didn’t want to be anything like my mother. I wanted to accomplish something, you know? Be somebody, I guess.” “You are somebody.” Hayley ducked her head. “No. I know. But sometimes I’m afraid I’m a little too much like my mother even when I try not to be. I think that’s why I regret not finishing college. That’s why it’s so important to me. And the job with
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Paige, it’s more than just a job. It’s completing something I started a long time ago. I don’t want to pass up opportunities the way my mother did.” “Yeah, what’s that saying? If you can’t be a good example, be the cautionary tale?” “She was a cautionary tale in the worst way. Not only was she a single mother with no mothering skills, she had a substance abuse problem she couldn’t kick. My mother’s family tried to help her the same way I tried to help Steffie. Sometimes when I look at Fletcher I see myself. I always wanted a whole family, you know? A real family, like you have. With a mother and a father, maybe a sister or a brother. I think that’s how it should be for kids.” “In a perfect world, hon, it would be.” “That’s what I want for Fletcher. A real family.” Hayley snuggled against Ray. She sighed. “Did Mom’s visit entirely kill the mood?”
Hayley woke before five the next morning, spooned up against Ray’s back. Oh God, he felt good. Warm. Alive. Giving. She was pretty sure he was still asleep, but he’d have to get up pretty soon anyway. They’d been sneaking around like a couple of teenagers, neither of them entirely comfortable sleeping together with Fletcher in the house. Although Fletcher normally never woke during the night, and they kept the bedroom door locked. Hayley kissed Ray’s back, running her fingers along the silk of his skin, lightly kneading his muscles. She loved the feel of his skin, smooth and supple, over all those guy muscles. She rubbed her upper body against him. Her nipples came to attention, and she sighed at the sensations running through her. He shifted and would have turned over, but she pushed him back. She wasn’t done yet.
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“What are you doing?” he whispered. “Having my way with you,” she mumbled between kisses. “Are you sure? Because normally I’d be—” “Sshh.” Hayley shifted lower and ran the palm of her hand along his hip to the back of his thigh, running her lips along his spine as she did. She gave him a little shove, so he was almost, but not quite, lying on his stomach. She turned her attention to the backs of his thighs. She ran one hand along them, up and down, to his knees and on to his calves and ankles. She caressed the indentations at the backs of his knees as if they specifically interested her. Hadn’t she read somewhere that the backs of the knees were an erogenous zone? “Do you know what you’re doing?” he asked in a strained whisper. She smiled. Even under the sprinkling of hair, she found the feel of his skin intoxicating. She wanted to memorize him, every part of him, touch him everywhere. “I told you. I’m having my way with you.” “Okay. Yeah. But you having your way with me is getting a tad uncomfortable. How about if I have my way with you now?” “But I’m not done. I didn’t get to your feet yet.” Ray flipped to his back and pulled her toward him. “They’re not going anywhere. It’s all part of the same package.” He slid inside her, and she moaned softly at the thick, delicious way he filled her. His fingers dug into her hips, and she shifted slightly. Ray groaned and swore softly. It made Hayley smile. “What’s a matter, tough guy? Can’t handle the pressure?” She bent over him and kissed him. A second later she was crushed beneath him. “How’s that for pressure?” he whispered. She wrapped her arms
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and legs around him, pulling him in even tighter, wanting as much of his skin as possible against hers. “I love it,” she whispered back. Ray picked his head up and looked into her eyes while they made love. Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes, surprising her. A lump settled in her throat. She was always going to want this. She was always going to want Ray. The thought of not being with him, of him turning away from her sent a shudder of fear through her. She wanted to hold on to him forever. But, she reminded herself, there was no such thing as forever. Locked together like this, his gaze intent on hers, she had a moment of being weirdly, psychically connected to him. Yes, he was inside her, but it was as if she were inside him too, seeing what he saw, feeling what he felt. She dug her fingers into his waist in an attempt to draw him even closer or push him away. Scared and enthralled at the same time, she suddenly found herself peaking and going over the edge. Shocked to her core, she’d been so caught up in that connectedness, she hadn’t realized her body had been building toward that ultimate satisfaction. Ray’s name passed her lips in a jagged whisper. His mouth crashed down on hers. He ravaged her mouth as he ravaged her body. He drove into her savagely. Her cries of pleasure were lost in his kiss. Stunned by the intensity of their lovemaking, when it was over Hayley tried to gather her skittering thoughts. Most of Ray’s body still covered her, their limbs loosely entwined. Idly, she ran her fingers through the silky strands of his hair. The phrase he rocks my world ran through her head and made her smile. But what if he discovers all my secrets? Panic rose inside her at the thought. She couldn’t give in to those feelings again, because she knew from experience they wouldn’t last. She had to, had to, protect herself.
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A half hour later, Hayley watched while Ray dressed in the grayish light. He pulled his shirt over his head and sat next to her on the bed. He cupped one hand around her jaw, his fingers sliding back into her hair. She looped her fingers around his wrist. He kissed her. “I love you.” He kissed her again. “I’m in love with you.” It was light enough for her to see his eyes even more clearly than she could before. She knew he meant what he said. She knew she was supposed to say the words back to him. But her throat seized in terror. Putting it out there, saying it, meant it was real. It opened you up and made it easy for someone to wound you. Why wasn’t Ray terrified too? He should be. How did he know she wouldn’t crush him? Throw his love back in his face? She wanted to say something. She had to. Her lips parted. There were words there, crowded at the back of her throat, but there were either too many or too few, and nothing came out. All she could do was stare into his searching gaze. Ray saved her. Again. He threaded his thumb along her cheekbone in the tenderest of gestures. “It’s okay. I can wait.” He kissed her once more and left. The door closed softly behind him. Idiot! she berated herself, angry now that she hadn’t said something. Anything. She’d left Ray hanging there with his heart on his sleeve and she’d said nothing! What was wrong with her? She shoved the covers off and went into the bathroom. She yanked the faucet on and almost ripped the curtain off the shower rod as she stepped into the tub. She loved Ray. She was in love with him. Why couldn’t she say it? Why couldn’t she admit it to him? Fear held her back. It was that simple. Fear of
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history repeating itself. Fear of commitment. Fear of getting her heart broken again, or worse, of breaking Ray’s. What if she wasn’t up to the challenge of a real relationship? What if everything Ray said he felt for her now turned sour in a year or two? What if she disappointed him? Alienated him? Did something stupid and unforgiveable? Ridiculous, she told herself. And probably impossible. Ray had forgiven his wife for tricking him, lying to him. Yeah, he’d been pissed at her, but that hadn’t changed the way he’d viewed his commitment to her. He wasn’t even mad at her for not responding to his declaration of love this morning. Maybe he’d known she wouldn’t be able to say the words and wasn’t necessarily expecting to hear them. That was almost sadder still. Because he deserved to hear them. She should say them. Because she didn’t want to lose him. Done with her shower and wrapped in a towel, she wiped the condensation off the mirror and stared at her reflection. “What if,” she said softly, giving voice to what truly terrified her, “he knew the real me? What then?” She was also afraid she knew the answer. Ray knew her. And he loved her anyway. She sighed as she toweled dry. She needed to make a decision. Either she was ready for a real relationship with Ray, or she should let him go.
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Chapter Twenty-Four
The following Sunday morning, Hayley parked in front of the duplex and sat for a moment with the engine idling. The image of Fletcher’s reproachful look as he stared at her through the DCW van window was stuck in her head. She couldn’t shake the thought that she was abandoning him the same way Steffie and his worthless father had. Fletcher was much too young to understand she was doing what she thought was best for him. Giving him up for adoption was his best hope of finding the kind of family he needed and deserved. It was also the only sure way to protect him from Carlos. She turned the engine off and got out of the car. She was almost to the porch when Ray came out with Oscar ambling behind him. “Hey there. You’re up and out early.” Hayley turned to face him. “Yeah, I, uh, had an errand to run.” “On a Sunday morning?” “Yes.” Hayley could feel herself starting to crumple inside. For more than a week, she’d tried to find a way to tell Ray she’d decided not to keep Fletcher, but she hadn’t. She’d rehearsed the words in her head, waited for the right opportunity, but she’d kept her mouth shut. And now she knew why. Ray would hate her. He’d never forgive her. He’d think she was spineless and weak and selfish. And maybe she was. Maybe she was only justifying her good intentions
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by telling herself it was best for Fletcher. But the truth was, it was best for her as well. And the other reason she’d finally admitted to herself? She was afraid Ray would talk her out of it. “Where’s Fletcher?” Ray asked. “Gone.” She turned and opened the door to the screen porch. She fumbled with the key, hoping she could get inside and be alone before she completely fell apart. But it wasn’t going to happen. Ray was right behind her and he followed her inside. So did Oscar. “What do you mean ‘gone’?” Hayley grabbed a towel from the kitchen counter and buried her face in it. Almost worse than losing Fletcher was losing Ray. She’d done something stupid. She’d gone and fallen in love with him. She’d somehow let him nurture this idea that the three of them were going to be a family. Fool that she was, she’d almost let herself believe it. “Hayley, what’s going on?” Ray’s voice was deadly cold. It was like ice water poured on her, forcing her to get hold of herself. She lowered the towel and looked at him. Her chin came up. She reminded herself this had been her decision. She’d done what she thought was best for Fletcher. “Fletcher’s being put up for adoption.” “What!” Ray exploded. “How? When? Why didn’t you tell me?” He looked stunned, devastated. Hurt. “I wanted to. But…I couldn’t.” “I think I deserved to know.” Hayley nodded. “You did. I couldn’t tell you. It was hard enough—” Nope. She wasn’t going down that road of self-pity. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
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Ray sighed. He stared at her as if he didn’t quite know what to make of her or what to do or say next. “I thought you were going to keep him,” he said quietly. Hayley sniffed. “I can’t.” “Can’t?” Ray asked. “Or don’t want to?” Hayley felt Ray’s question like a blow to the heart. That she’d been asking herself the same kinds of questions didn’t make it any easier to bear. “I can’t. I’m in no position to adopt him,” she told Ray evenly. “Not financially or emotionally. If things were different for—if I hadn’t made a deal with Carlos—” “What deal?” “Carlos only agreed to relinquish his parental rights if I agreed not to adopt Fletcher.” Ray stared at her as if he didn’t know how to respond to that. She stumbled on, knowing she couldn’t make him understand. “At the time I thought it was the right thing to do, but now…” Hayley had never felt so defeated. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t support him. I can’t protect him.” “What do you mean you can’t protect him? From what?” Hayley lifted her chin. “From Carlos.” “Carlos is in jail.” “I sincerely doubt he’ll always be locked up.” Hayley didn’t know how to convey to Ray her very real fear that given the opportunity, Carlos would eventually find a way to exact his revenge. It might be days, weeks or months from now, but she couldn’t convince herself that Niko’s warnings were entirely unwarranted. She had little faith in the alarm system Ray’d had installed. Carlos could gain access, execute an attack and be long gone before the authorities arrived, especially since Perrish relied on the limited policing presence of the county sheriff’s office. “I’m doing what’s best for Fletcher.”
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“Hayley, that little boy needs you.” “There are things Fletcher needs that I’m not in a position to provide. Like you weren’t when Caroline decided otherwise. How did it feel, Ray, to have someone expect something from you when you knew you weren’t ready to give it? Huh? Because that’s exactly what you’re asking me to do.” She’d raised her voice without meaning to. Inside was another voice that told her she’d blown it, she’d lost everything. She’d made a huge mistake she wouldn’t be able to undo. Ray stared at her for a minute then everything seemed to drain out of him. “Damn. You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry. You say you’re not ready, I should accept that.” Hayley breathed in a deep, shuddering breath, hoping it would ease the tightness in her chest. “I can’t. I can’t do it alone.” “What if you weren’t alone?” “But I am.” Ray stared at her. Seconds ticked by. “I thought…you and me…hell, I don’t know what I thought. So he’s gone? You didn’t even let me say goodbye?” “No. No. He’s only gone for the day. DCW does these picnic events at Suwannee County Park where children available for adoption can meet prospective adoptive parents.” “Oh yeah,” Ray said. “I’ve heard about those. It’s sort of like going to the pound to look at puppies. See if any of them are what you want.” “Ray!” “Well, it is. I saw one of those news magazine stories about it a year or two ago. Those kids go in all filled with hope that somebody’s going to want them, take them home, that they’ll finally have a family. And you should see how disappointed they are when no one picks them.”
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Hayley started to tremble. She’d seen the same news story. At the time all she could think about was how close she’d come to being one of those kids. If she hadn’t had a grandmother and later, an aunt who’d taken her in when her own mother’s inadequacies became too much, she’d have ended up in DCW custody. “I just don’t see how Fletcher can fit in with my plan—” “Oh yes. Your plan. Your plan to move to L.A. and leave everyone who loves you behind.” Hayley flinched, but she lifted her chin. “My plans for L.A. were made before Steffie died. Do you know what Fletcher’s life would be like if I take him with me? He won’t be with me. He’ll be in day care a lot of the time because I’ll be working full-time and going to school. And there isn’t on-site day care like the Y, either. I know Fletcher will be better off with a family here. You can’t tell me the plans I’ve made for myself aren’t what’s right for me.” “Maybe not, but here’s what I can tell you, Hayley. Plans can change. They aren’t set in stone. Sometimes they change because you choose to change them. Or circumstances come along and change them whether you want them to or not. There’s no reason to stick with a plan out of sheer stubbornness when it’s not working. And there’s no reason to hang on to it just because you’re afraid of where life might lead you without it.” “I can’t—” The argument she’d formed in her head trickled down to words that stuck in her throat. What if Ray was right? Had she made a terrible mistake with Fletcher? Perhaps no one would want him. But what if someone did? Could she, should she risk Carlos’s wrath and adopt him? That sick fear that Carlos would seek retribution against them both if she did swamped her. “If you’re so sure you know what’s best for Fletcher, maybe you should adopt him.”
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Her quiet words dropped like pebbles into the pond of silence between them. Ray stared at her. “Maybe I will,” he responded softly. There didn’t seem to be anything left to say. A single tear rolled down Hayley’s cheek. She bit her lip, willing herself not to fall apart in front of Ray. “I have to—I’m going to—” She turned and ran. Hayley made it to the bathroom and got the door closed. She hadn’t eaten anything, but the knots in her stomach didn’t care. When the spasms passed without much of anything else happening, she sat for a moment on the edge of the bathtub. She rubbed at her temples, trying to think what to do next. If anything. Nothing had changed. She was still in no position to adopt Fletcher. Nurture him. Care for him. Protect him from Carlos. She had no extended family, virtually no support system, except for Ray. And as she well knew, there were no guarantees that any guy was going to stick around when the going got tough, no matter what he said or what she wanted to believe. Her own mother had hardly set an example she’d want to follow on how to raise a child. Of course she had Andre. And Paige. But Andre lived in Jacksonville, and she had no intention of returning there to live. Ever. Once in L.A., she’d be working full-time for Paige. There wouldn’t be a convenient day-care center attached to her office. She’d have to put Fletcher somewhere, with someone else watching him. How was she going to fit in work and go back to school and be a single mother? It could be done. Women proved it all the time. But at what cost? To themselves? To the children? And how fair would it be to Fletcher to keep him simply because she could? Even if part of her wanted to? Even if she were willing to risk defying Carlos, surely there were other, better parents for Fletcher, hopefully an intact
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family unit where he could thrive and be happy. Why couldn’t Ray understand that? She reminded herself that she’d never fully explained her fear of Carlos to Ray. She should explain everything to him, tell him about Niko, lay it all out for him, make him understand. Surely Ray could also see that she could barely take care of herself, and she was also struggling to support herself and Fletcher as it was. Money wasn’t everything, and it was certainly no guarantee of a happy childhood, or so she’d heard. But Fletcher needed so much. She’d never be able to give it to him unless she stuck with her plan, got her degree, created some kind of future for herself. No. Even though it was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do, giving Fletcher up was still the right thing for him. She eased the bathroom door open to find her worst fear realized. Not only was Fletcher gone. So was Ray.
Ray drove with pure concentration, his fingers gripping the wheel. He couldn’t think about Hayley right now or whether he’d done the right thing taking off as soon as the bathroom door closed. All he could think about was Fletcher. When she’d told him Fletcher was gone, Ray’s heart had dropped like a stone. He thought she’d meant he was gone for good, not just for the day. Somehow, in his head, he’d already adopted Fletcher, though he hadn’t realized it until he thought he’d lost him. He had this picture of Fletcher and Hayley as a permanent part of his life, although he hadn’t acted on making that happen. He hadn’t expected Hayley to pull the rug out from under him by deciding to put Fletch up for adoption without telling him.
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Though to be fair, she had no obligation to tell him, and the more he thought about it the more he had to admit, she’d been trying to tell him that all along. And who was he really, to her? Just some guy she’d known for a couple of months. Some guy she’d been sleeping with for a couple of weeks. How would she know, and why should she believe he was also a guy she could count on to stick by her forever? She’d insisted she wasn’t in a position to parent her stepsister’s child no matter how much she might want to. She was struggling, not only financially but with her own sense of inadequacy. Plus she was dead set on moving to L.A. There was no doubt in Ray’s mind that Hayley truly believed she was doing what was best for Fletcher. But doing what she thought was best for Fletcher was clearly tearing her up inside. Somehow, some way, Ray wasn’t going to let that happen. He wasn’t going to let that little boy go without a fight. And if Hayley wasn’t ready to make that kind of commitment, he’d wait until she was. For a split second during Hayley’s explanation, he’d thought about throwing out some kind of proposal. “Marry me.” The words had flashed through his head, but even as they did he knew it wasn’t the time or the place. Hayley would think he was asking because of Fletcher. Like he was going to save them or something. While it was true that marriage to him would solve a lot of what Hayley viewed as obstacles, he didn’t want her to marry him so he could bail her out. Hell, Hayley couldn’t even tell him she loved him. He knew she did. He’d known it before he’d told her how he felt that morning. But if she wasn’t ready to say the words to him, a marriage proposal would send her running for cover.
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One thing he’d learned the past couple of years was patience. With himself and with other people. Not everyone arrived at the same destination at the same time. Sometimes you had to wait for them to catch up. Even if committing to her was a foregone conclusion in his mind, when he proposed there’d be a ring and a more romantic setting than her side of the duplex in the middle of an argument. And it would be about the two of them and no one else. He arrived at the county park in record time. It was easy to locate the picnic area adorned with balloons and a banner proclaiming the event. There were lots of kids milling around and almost as many adults. Ray got out of the car to assess the scene. He doubted they let anyone walk into the fenced area, which included a playground, a large, covered picnic area and a couple of charcoal grills. Bunches of balloons were attached to the support pillars and some of the tables. A brightly decorated refreshment area offered cold drinks, snacks and ice cream. Ray saw Callie Maxwell near the entrance, huddled with some other adults and a couple of kids. He scanned the playground through the lenses of his sunglasses. The sun was unmerciful, the temperature somewhere in the mid-nineties, humidity in the hundreds probably. Vaguely, Ray wondered why the state couldn’t find a nice, air-conditioned facility to hold these events. At least there were lots of mature trees to provide plenty of shade. He spotted Fletcher sitting by himself on a swing at the furthest end of the playground. He wasn’t swinging. He sat scuffing the toe of his sneaker into the dusty mulch below. Ray decided to bypass the huddle of DCW personnel and walked around the perimeter of the fence until he was as close to Fletcher as he could be without vaulting over the chain link. He’d taken a route that put him behind Fletcher when he stopped.
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He stood for a moment watching the boy. It didn’t take long, maybe thirty seconds. Fletcher’s head came up. He stilled. He looked around then glanced over his shoulder and spotted Ray. He almost smiled and that made Ray grin. Ray hunkered outside the fence, and Fletcher jumped off the swing and ran to him. Ray gripped the chain link with his fingers and waggled them at Fletcher. “Hey, buddy. How you doing?” Fletcher slid his fingers beneath Ray’s and stared at him. “Are you having fun?” Surprising him, Fletcher shook his head. His lower lip protruded and his eyes clouded. He was trying to keep himself from bursting into tears. “It’ll be okay, buddy. You’ll see.” “Mr. Braddock.” Ray glanced up to see Callie Maxwell making her way toward them. He took off his sunglasses and wiped the perspiration off his forehead before replacing them. “Ms. Maxwell.” He returned her greeting, but he stayed where he was, not willing to break his contact with Fletcher. “Can I help you?” she asked when she was close enough. Her gaze took in his fingers entwined with Fletcher’s. “Yes,” Ray said. “I think you can. I’d like to adopt this little boy.” That statement gained him access to the picnic area where Callie explained what sounded like a long, drawn-out procedure for adopting Fletcher, which involved home visits and background checks. A plan he’d already decided to circumvent any way he could. He’d probably need a good lawyer to cut through the red tape. No problem. Roscoe’s cousin Natalie’s husband was a lawyer, if Ray recalled correctly. And if he didn’t deal in family law, there was a good chance he knew someone who did.
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With Fletcher on his lap, Ray sat across from Callie at a table away from the rest of the crowd. She filled out a contact sheet with basic information about him and handed him a folder filled with forms and informative brochures. “Does Hayley know you’re doing this?” she asked him. “No, not exactly. And I’d prefer she didn’t for the time being. Unless you’re obligated to tell her.” “I’m not. Once a child is put up for adoption, we aren’t required to include the foster parents in the process. She’ll retain custody of Fletcher until the final adoption hearing. You do understand that, of course?” “Of course. Not a problem.” “He seems to have bonded with you,” Callie said, glancing up. Fletcher had relaxed back against Ray, comfortable in the crook of Ray’s arm. “Yeah.” Ray didn’t think he could explain to anyone, not even a social worker familiar with Fletcher’s case, the weird connection he’d felt with this little boy almost from the moment he’d first seen him. He wasn’t sure how he was going to tell Hayley of his decision. She’d been adamant that Fletcher needed a home with two parents who could give him what every child needed. Fletcher could have exactly that, if she would eventually warm to the idea that the two of them could be his parents. He hoped she’d arrive at that conclusion on her own. She wasn’t there yet, and though he’d vowed to wait for however long it took, waiting was becoming increasingly frustrating in more ways than one. Caroline had argued and cajoled, trying to convince him he was ready for something he wasn’t. Words simply didn’t work. He’d come around in his own time, and it hadn’t taken all that long. For the moment, Hayley left him no choice but to leave her out of the equation. He’d do his best to show her how important she was to him and to
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Fletcher. Until then, Fletcher wasn’t going anywhere except to his side of the duplex. Hayley could have as much time as she needed, but somehow he knew she’d decide sooner rather than later that she wanted to be a permanent part of both their lives. Ray stayed until the event was over, but he had to leave Fletcher at the park with the other kids. He hugged him goodbye and promised he’d see him in a little while, and they could take Oscar for a walk when he got home. Pending Hayley’s approval, of course. Not that she ever objected. When he got home he went straight in his front door. He didn’t want Hayley to see the sheaf of paperwork Callie had given him. Lucky for him, he thought, the irony of Fletcher not talking. He wouldn’t tattle to Hayley that Ray had been at the park and had talked to the social worker about adopting him. He called Roscoe and got the name of Natalie’s husband. First thing tomorrow morning he’d call the lawyer. He couldn’t help smiling at the thought that Fletcher would soon be his son. He’d be there to experience all those important firsts. First day of school. First Little League game. First crush. Ray would be there when Fletcher spoke his first words again. Maybe his first word would be “daddy”. He spread the paperwork out on his kitchen table and got to work.
After Ray left, Hayley forced herself to get her act together. She ventured out to the grocery store, a trip she should have enjoyed since she didn’t have Fletcher to contend with. But all she could think about as she stocked up for the week was that she was somehow abandoning him by letting him go. She wasn’t sure she’d done the right thing after all, but she wasn’t sure she hadn’t.
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God knew she’d agonized over her decision. She’d made lists of the pros and cons, the benefits both for herself and for Fletcher. The pros for Fletcher outweighed the cons every time. She’d convinced herself she wasn’t cut out to be a good enough parent for him. She couldn’t protect him. Keeping him would be the most selfish thing she could do, and it would put him at risk if Carlos ever made good on his threats. She had to let him go. She knew that. But knowing it didn’t make her any less sad about it. At the checkout she did something she never did. She picked up a bag of the Gummi Bears Fletcher loved. A pathetic consolation prize for him. Or maybe it was a way of consoling herself by bringing him a brief moment of pleasure. A treat. She thought of all the times he’d reached for them as they waited in the checkout line. Of all the times she told him no, that the sugar was bad for his teeth and that they were empty nutrition. And now here she was buying them for him when he wasn’t even there. Gummi Bears. A salve for the conscience. Back at home, she cleaned and did laundry. She sat at the table to pay her bills then stared at her checkbook balance when she was done. Another reason she couldn’t keep Fletcher. Even though she would get some state assistance, she feared she wouldn’t be able to cover any unexpected expenses. What if her car broke down or she lost her job? What if her rent went up? What if she got sick and couldn’t work, couldn’t pay her bills? Who would support Fletcher? The idea of moving to L.A. with Fletcher in tow seemed impossible. Even paying the extra airfare would blow her budget out of the water. Any way she looked at it, she’d be shortchanging Fletcher while she got her own life in order. She had no idea how single parents managed on their own. She supposed many of them got child support from their exes. But she also knew many of them didn’t. Her own mother had been one of those. Many of them struggled and their
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children suffered. Hayley liked to think she knew her own limits. Parenting a child on her own was one of them. Thinking about single parenting got her to think more about the Y program Pablo wanted to create. She unearthed a spiral-bound notebook and started jotting down her thoughts about what it had been like to grow up the way she had. What would have made a difference for her all those years ago? What would have made a difference for Steffie? A sense of community for one thing. She’d been in dance, gymnastics and cheerleading classes and camps, but they were always of relatively short duration. Six or eight weeks at the most, sometimes only a week or two. Any connection they made with the other girls was broken when their time together ended. Perhaps they could find a way of keeping the girls together in the same group for as long as possible so they could build ties and support each other. Simple cooking classes? Hayley like that idea. She knew nutrition was important for a growing child’s body and mind. Perhaps they could find a nutritional consultant to come in periodically to teach them about food. A chef from a local restaurant could teach them how to make simple, nutritious and tasty meals on a budget. Counseling? What if a psychologist or even one of the guidance counselors from the public school system could come in and talk about peer pressure and family issues? Let the girls ask questions, find answers? In such a setting, Hayley was certain they’d realize they weren’t alone, that many of the girls would have similar issues. What could be better than finding someone who understood exactly what you were going through? The girls could also do community service projects. Each year they could have a banquet and recognize individual achievements, perhaps an awards
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ceremony of some sort. Make the highest honor The Stephanie Chastain award in Steffie’s memory. She filled pages with her notes, the ideas coming so quickly her hand cramped from trying to write them all down. She heard Ray’s car pull up outside. She stayed where she was, hoping against hope she’d hear his tread across her porch, his knock on the door. When she didn’t, she bit her lip and stared down at her notes, the words blurring in her vision. Ray didn’t understand. He couldn’t. It didn’t matter anyway. She put her checkbook back in the drawer and tidied the table. She had to go pick up Fletcher. When she returned with Fletcher, he headed to Ray’s side of the duplex without looking to her for permission. Hayley watched, perplexed, as he stood on tiptoe to open the screen door to Ray’s porch. “Hey, Fletch, what do you think you’re—” Ray’s door opened at that moment, and he crossed to the screen door just as Fletcher got it open. Ray held it for him and Fletcher went in, wrapping his arms around Ray’s legs. Oscar came bounding out and jumped up on Fletcher and Ray both, swiping his tongue across Fletcher’s cheek. Dumbfounded, Hayley stared at the scene before her. Her gaze clashed with Ray’s, and she found herself spellbound, unable to look away. She didn’t know what to say, what to do. “I told him we’d walk Oscar when he got home,” Ray said with an easy smile. Hayley cocked her head. As far as she knew, Ray hadn’t seen Fletcher all day, not until now, to tell him anything. “Oh? When did you tell him that?” Ray hesitated. “I mean, you know, like how we walk Oscar every day when he gets home.”
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Hayley had the distinct sense there was something going on, something Ray wasn’t telling her. But she could hardly question him. She was too relieved he was still speaking to her. Fletcher released Ray and directed his attention to Oscar. He retrieved Oscar’s leash and attached it to his collar. “Want to join us?” Ray invited as he followed the two out the door. Hayley didn’t see how she could say no. It was the first time she’d been invited. Walking Oscar had always been a Ray and Fletcher thing. She found herself ridiculously giddy at being included in their tight male circle of three. “Okay,” she agreed. She locked her purse in her car and pocketed the keys. Her giddiness turned to near delirium when Ray reached for her hand. Maybe she hadn’t lost him after all. She eyed Fletcher, who was a couple of feet ahead of them, trying to keep up with Oscar’s excited puppy lope. Fletcher, she knew for certain, she had lost.
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Chapter Twenty-Five
The following week Callie called her. “Fletcher doesn’t need to attend any more of the adoption parties,” she informed Hayley. “We’ve got what looks like a viable party to adopt him.” “Already?” Hayley gripped the phone until her knuckles turned white. Her heart dropped to her stomach. “Looks like. I’ve got some more paperwork and a couple of home inspections to do, but initial background check looks good. Just thought I’d let you know.” “I didn’t think it would happen so fast. And they’re, the people who want to adopt him that is, they’re aware of his language issue?” “Yes, but it doesn’t seem to be a problem.” “Callie, I know you wouldn’t give Fletcher to just anybody, but is this the right family for him?” “I guarantee Fletcher’s being adopted by someone who’ll love him. In fact, I think they already do.” “From just that one meeting?” “Sometimes when it’s the right thing, people know it. I think that’s what happened here.” “Thanks for letting me know, Callie. I appreciate it.” “You’re welcome. I’ll be in touch.”
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That evening while they were sitting on her porch, she told Ray about the phone call from Callie. Ray slid his hand under hers and squeezed. “You know, it’s not too late to change your mind,” he told her gently. She blinked back the tears that filled her eyes. “I can’t.” He didn’t argue with her. Ever since Fletcher’s outing to the adoption party, Ray had seemed quietly resigned to her decision. He’d been solicitous, but more withdrawn, as if he had something weighing heavily on his mind. Their evening routine hadn’t changed much except for one notable exception. Once quiet time was over, Ray left. He’d embrace her and kiss her like he meant it, his kisses never failing to light a fire inside her. But then he’d draw away, bid her goodnight and retreat to his side of the duplex. Perplexed, Hayley let him go. He was sending her a message she couldn’t quite read. He didn’t seem angry with her, yet something had changed. She knew he wanted her, but he wouldn’t let himself have her. She didn’t understand it, and each evening her frustration mounted. He gave just enough of himself to get her motor running and then he’d walk away when everything inside her begged him to stay. They sat in silence for a few minutes, holding hands, then Ray stood. “I’m going to get going.” Hayley rose as well and he drew her into his embrace. She twined her arms around his neck, welcoming the heat that rose between them. Pressing herself against him, she kissed him hungrily, sending him a message she knew he could read. Stay with me. They were both turned-on and ready. No way would he walk away tonight, she was sure of it. She tried to back toward the door with him in tow, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he ended their steamy kiss, reached up and
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unlocked her arms from around his neck. He set her a little away from him and took a deep, unsteady breath. “Why?” The anguished, one-word question escaped her lips before she could stop it. Her entire body vibrated with need. “Because,” he began then stopped. “Because why? It isn’t because you don’t want to.” “No.” “Ray, please…” “Hayley—” “Are you punishing me? Because of Fletcher?” “No, for God’s sakes, no, it’s got nothing to do with that.” Panic swept through Hayley. She felt as if she’d been running for hours and could hardly catch her breath. Ray was slipping away from her. “Then what?” she said dully. “Just tell me.” “I want you to miss me.” “What?” “Let me put it another way. I want you to know what you’ll be missing if you leave.” “Ray, that’s just—” “I already told you, I don’t want you to go. But you seem so dead set on sticking to your damn plan.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Hayley stared at him. He wasn’t playing a game with her. He wasn’t withholding sex to punish her, exactly. But he was sending her a message, finally, that she could read loud and clear. He held up a hand as if to stop her, though she hadn’t moved or said a word. “That’s not the only reason.” He coughed. “If there’s even a chance that you’ll change your mind, I don’t want anything to cloud your judgment. I don’t
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want you to leave, but I don’t want you to stay here because of me. This isn’t about what I want. If you decide to stay, it should only be because it’s what right for you.” For long seconds they stared at each other across the few feet separating them before Ray pushed open the screen door and walked through it. It closed with a soft whoosh behind him, and Hayley listened to the same sound as he entered his own porch and the softer clicking sounds of his front door opening and closing. She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Instead of going inside, she sank down into her chair once again, her mind replaying everything that had just taken place. Every nuance, every word, every expression that had crossed Ray’s face. She had no idea how to respond to such blatant honesty. She didn’t think she’d ever been faced with anything like it before and certainly not from a man. She and Trey had traded words and made assumptions about the other’s feelings. Maybe they’d both been too scared to lay it all on the line like Ray just had. Where had he learned that? How, why, did he let himself be so vulnerable? He’d handed her the power to hurt him, and having it wasn’t something she relished. Unlike Ray, she made sure to wrap her feelings in lots of layers and bury them deeper than she ever had before because those last couple of years with Trey had taught her to protect herself. She didn’t welcome the possibility of being stabbed through the heart again. Another uncomfortable thought pushed its way into her head. The only reason Ray would be so open with her was because he trusted her. He’d given her the power to hurt him because he didn’t think she’d use it. “Wow,” she murmured softly to herself. “He’s got a lot more faith in me than I do.”
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She rose and strode purposefully to Ray’s door. He answered her soft tap almost immediately. She took his hand and drew him through the doorway. Then she hugged him. No steamy kiss. Nothing sexual. She held him close until he seemed to get her intention, and he hugged her back. They stayed that way for long minutes before she finally let go. After Hayley left, Ray took a cold shower, which did nothing to cool his raging libido or calm his wayward thoughts. Caroline had never gotten to him the way Hayley did, and lately he’d been asking himself why that was. He’d loved Caroline, hadn’t he? Why else would he have married her? Had they merely been part of the same twenty-something crowd whose members had gradually paired off and married each other until it seemed they were the only ones left? He hated to think he’d married Caroline simply because it was convenient. Surely there’d been more to it than that. Yet he knew he’d never had this sense of joy and peace he got every time he saw Hayley. All he wanted was to be with her. It was as simple and as complicated as that. She calmed him down and revved him up at the same time. He’d never thought about how it would feel to lose Caroline until it actually happened. But the idea that he’d lose Hayley, that she’d go ahead with her plan to move to L.A., that she’d leave him behind without a backward glance, scared the hell out of him. He’d have Fletcher, of course, but it was hard to imagine creating the family he wanted without her. He hadn’t told her the whole truth earlier, either, about why he’d put a hold on spending the night with her. He didn’t need any more memories of what it was like to be with her, anything else to torture himself with or to miss if she left. He was in deep enough as it was.
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He puttered around the kitchen, cleaning up a few dishes he’d left in the sink, emptying the leftover coffee from this morning. He’d let Oscar out and then try to get some sleep. Ray flipped on the outside light and stepped onto the concrete pad at the rear of the duplex. The evening rain had abated but the air held that special, cool hint of moisture like it always did after one of the summer downpours. Oscar padded out behind him, sniffed the air then stepped into the grass to nose around before he squatted to do his business. Ray glanced across the narrow alley to the back of the shop where a single security light burned. Oscar continued to nose around in the wet grass beneath the swingset before he hopped up on the pad behind Hayley’s half of the duplex. He froze midstep, and a low growl emitted from his throat. The light outside Ray’s door barely illuminated beyond the immediate vicinity, so Oscar’s outline was all Ray could see. The old vertical blinds were closed, covering the sliding door into Hayley’s apartment, and very dim light shone against them. Perhaps Oscar sensed a rodent of some sort, an opossum or a field mouse or an armadillo. Ray took careful steps through the grass separating the sections of concrete and came up next to Oscar. “What is it, boy?” he whispered, squinting into the shadows. Another low growl emitted from Oscar’s throat, and when Ray bent to soothe him, he realized Oscar’s hackles were up, his whole body tense, the hair along his back standing at attention. If he sensed another animal, surely he’d have pounced by now or pursued it if it ran. But Oscar’s focus was on the sliding door, not the ground. He’d frozen in that position, and Ray stared at the door as well, trying to see whatever it was that Oscar saw or sensed. The door itself. That’s what Oscar had noticed. It was off its track, out of position, popped out of the frame. Someone had broken into
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Hayley’s apartment. He knew for a fact the alarm system was wired to the sliding door yet he’d heard no siren. For a split second Ray froze just as Oscar had. Then he heard the murmur of voices, Hayley’s and an unidentified male. The intruder, surely. He couldn’t make out the words. He had to make a decision. Barge in unarmed and take his chances or take a minute and be smart about it. He listened a few seconds more. For the moment at least, it didn’t seem like Hayley was in imminent danger. At least he hoped not. There was no screaming, no sounds of struggle. He turned, scooped up Oscar and ran back into his apartment. He set the dog down, dug his cell phone out of his pocket and grabbed his softball bat from the laundry room. He accessed Tim Reichard’s number from the cell phone’s memory, and when he answered explained the situation as succinctly as possible. Perrish was unincorporated and relied on the county sheriff’s deputies, of which Tim was one, for peacekeeping and protection. Tim worked out of the sub-station on the north end of town. He’d know what to do. “I’ll probably be inside by the time you get here, just so you know.” “Ray, don’t—” Ray disconnected Tim’s warning, turned the phone off and stuffed it back in his pocket. Softball bat in hand, he stealthily made his way back to Hayley’s apartment. The glass door had been relocated just enough to allow entrance. Ray edged the vertical blinds over so he could see in. He’d kind of like to know what he was dealing with beforehand. The light over the stove glowed to his right, barely illuminating anything other than the stove itself. At the far end of the living area, the hall light was on. He saw the hulking form of a man dwarfing Hayley. They were face-to-face at the hallway entrance, the man’s back to Ray. Ray slipped off his flip-flops and slowly, carefully, pushed the vertical slats of the blind aside and stepped inside. He saw no reason why he couldn’t
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sneak up on the guy, konk him over the head with the bat, and ask questions later, because now he could hear the threatening tone of the man’s voice as well as his actual words. Hayley’s tone in reply was both adamant and pleading. “What are you going to do, Carlos? Take him on the run with you? You know you won’t get far.” “That’ll be my problem,” Carlos sneered. “You want him to remember you cut up and bleeding out on the floor, or in one piece waving good-bye, that’s up to you.” “You signed away your rights to him. You’re not taking him. Not unless you kill me first.” Ray caught a glimpse of Hayley over the guy’s shoulder. Her chin was up, her posture defensive, ready as she could be in case Carlos came at her. “Niko told you what would happen if you kept him. He told you I’d make you pay.” “I’m not keeping him. Someone else is adopting him. People I don’t even know. As soon as it’s final, I’ll never see him again. Isn’t that what you wanted?” Ray took another silent footstep forward, his entire future flashing before his eyes. If he screwed this up, Hayley might end up dead. And Fletcher might be gone forever. He had to be careful. He had to— A ripple of resignation ran along Carlos’s shoulders. “You think I give a shit about what happens to that kid? This is about you and me. You should’ve stayed out of my business like I told you. But you didn’t so now we got a score to settle.” He sprang at Hayley and she wisely dove to his left, landing hard on the tile floor. She was down and crab crawling backward away from Fletcher’s bedroom and toward her own. Ray saw the knife Carlos held, a nasty-looking
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butcher knife that looked suspiciously like one he’d seen in the drawer of Hayley’s kitchen. He charged Carlos then, letting out a guttural war cry, the only thing he could think of to deflect the man’s attention from Hayley. He raised the bat and took a swing, but to Carlos’s credit he was quicker than Ray thought he’d be. He turned in the nick of time and grabbed the bat, nearly wrenching it out of Ray’s grip, then shoving it back in Ray’s direction, causing him to lose his balance. Ray collided with an end table and almost went down. Carlos took the opportunity to come at him, slashing the knife in his direction as Ray regained his footing. The knife caught in his shirt and opened a gash in his side before Ray could get it together enough to deflect it. The white-hot pain and the indignity of having the other guy draw first blood made him see red in a way he never had before. No way was this guy getting away with threatening or hurting Hayley. No way would he get his hands on Fletcher. Carlos smiled while he brandished his weapon, almost as if he were enjoying himself. Ray immediately saw the physical resemblance Fletcher had to his father. The dark eyes and hair, the olive complexion. But Carlos exuded evil intent, his skin covered in a variety of garish tattoos, muscles bulging out of the ill-fitting clothes he wore. Ray switched the bat to his left hand as they circled each other in the small space just outside the hallway. Carlos was right-handed. The knife as sharp as the bat was dull. But Ray was taller, and the reach of the bat was longer. All he had to do was get one good shot at Carlos from the right side, and he could disarm him. He kept his eyes on Carlos, the two men staring each other down, each waiting for the other to make a move. A door clicked open in the hallway.
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Fletcher’s bedroom door. Ray heard Hayley whisper to him and shortly afterward he became vaguely aware of Hayley edging along the wall toward the kitchen with Fletcher perched on one hip. He didn’t want to take his focus off Carlos for even a second to warn her away or alert Carlos to her progress if he hadn’t already noticed it. “I already called the cops, Carlos,” he said in a conversational tone. “You might as well give this up now and make it easy on yourself.” Carlos shook his head. “I don’t think so, white bread. I think I’ll carve you up first. Then her.” He jerked his head in Hayley’s direction, his gaze never leaving Ray’s. “And then what?” Ray asked as they continued circling each other. “You’ll take Fletcher and what? Hurt him some more? You’re not cut out to be a father, admit it,” Ray taunted. “You don’t know nothing.” “I know you let his mother die. I know you left him all alone. Locked in his room. Who was supposed to look after him when you went to jail, Carlos? Huh?” Ray jabbed the bat in Carlos’s direction, goading him, watching as rage built inside him. Vaguely he was aware that Hayley had arrived in the kitchen while he’d been engaging Carlos. She’d set Fletcher down and was now holding on to something and carefully approaching them. “It takes a man to be a father, Carlos,” Ray taunted. “And you’re nothing but a punk. That’s all you’ll ever be.” Carlos let out a yell and came at him, just as Ray hoped he would. He had the bat ready and swung hard, catching Carlos on the elbow with a satisfying crack. The knife fell to the floor, but Carlos’s momentum kept him coming. Ray staggered back under Carlos’s weight and they both fell, with Carlos on top of him. The pain from the cut on his side, which he’d forgotten about, renewed
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itself as he was crushed beneath Carlos’s hefty frame. His head hit the tile with a resounding crack. He dropped the bat to fight Carlos, who was attempting to choke him with his left forearm across his throat. Ray’s vision blurred and black fuzz engulfed him. He found himself on the losing end of Carlos’s sturdy build and extra solid muscle combined with his street-fighting style. Vaguely, Ray wondered where Tim was. Shouldn’t he be here by now? Where were Hayley and Fletcher? Even if Carlos killed him, surely Tim would get here with reinforcements in time to save Hayley. And Fletcher. He wasn’t having much luck dislodging Carlos from on top of him or getting that crushing forearm off his trachea. He had one idea left, and he hoped it worked. He stopped fighting Carlos, worked his left arm to the side of his body and aimed his fist at the elbow he’d smacked the bat against earlier. At the same time he drove his fist into Carlos’s elbow, Ray felt a whoosh of air above him, an odd clanging sound, the guttural sound of an angry child, and then a flash of yellow whizzed across his line of vision. Carlos sagged on top of him, before he then collapsed completely and slid to the side. Ray blinked until his vision cleared. Hayley stared anxiously down at him, clutching the handle of a cast iron frying pan with both hands. That explained the odd clanging sound. She’d hit Carlos over the head with the pan. Fletcher stood nearby, his eyes huge, his body trembling, his foam-covered bat clutched in both hands. Hayley’s face crumpled. “Are you okay?” “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” Dazed, Ray started to sit up. “Damn.” He winced as he shoved Carlos completely off him. “Oh, Ray. Oh God, you’re bleeding.” Hayley set the pan down and moved to help him. “Wait a second.”
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She ran to the kitchen and came back with a couple of dishtowels. “Here.” She lifted his shirt and pressed them against his side. “Maybe you should just stay where you are.” “No, I’ll get up.” “I think the lady’s right, buddy. Stay where you are.” Gun drawn, Tim stared down at him over Hayley’s shoulder. Two other deputies appeared behind him, weapons at the ready. Tim pushed his cap back on his head and gestured with his chin toward Carlos’s prone form. “This our intruder?” Both Hayley and Ray nodded. Tim holstered his gun. “Got an ambulance on the way.” Both deputies kept their guns trained on Carlos while Tim bent down and felt his throat for a pulse, pronouncing him alive. His gaze took in both Hayley and Ray. “What’d you do to him?” “Maybe broke his arm.” “Hit him in the head with a skillet.” Their statements were uttered in unison and Tim shook his head. “You two are quite a pair.” Ray turned to Hayley. “So you finally figured out what that skillet is for, huh?” She gave him a weak smile. He looked up at Fletcher, still clutching his bat, his worried gaze moving between the adults. “Hey, buddy. It’s okay.” He reached out awkwardly and patted Fletcher’s knee. “Everything’s going to be all right. Come here.” He patted the floor next to him. “You can put your bat down now.”
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Fletcher loosened his grip on the bat and scooted close to Ray, but remained vigilant. “I think Fletcher got a good swing at him too,” he informed Tim. Ray winked at Fletcher. “We’ve been practicing, right, buddy?”
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The EMTs arrived, and insisted along with Tim that Ray needed to be transported to the ER. “I’ll be okay.” “You’re such a tough guy,” Hayley murmured near his ear. Neither she nor Fletcher had left his side. Carlos came to while Tim took their statements. He’d already been strapped onto a gurney and then handcuffed to it with little regard to his injured arm. He tried to raise himself off the gurney, his face mottled with rage, expletives spewing from his mouth. Tim rolled his eyes. “Get him out of here,” he said to the EMTs. Then to the deputies, he said, “You guys go on to the hospital and get his statement.” “You—” he pointed a finger at Ray, “—are one lucky S.O.B.” Ray looked at Hayley and Fletcher. “Yeah. Lucky.” He stood up. “I need to put that door back—” He went pale beneath his tan and abruptly sat back down. Tim rolled his eyes again. A second set of EMTs arrived. He turned back to Ray. “You go on to the hospital, let them take a look at you and stitch that up.” He glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “We got a better chance of making charges stick the more evidence we have, you get what I’m saying?” A look passed between them. Ray looked at Hayley. He nodded at Tim. “We’ll go with you,” Hayley said.
A Forever Kind of Guy
“There’s no need. Stay here with Fletch, okay? It won’t take that long. Probably.” “No. We’re awake anyway, and I won’t sleep until I know you’re okay. Neither will Fletcher. Right, Fletch?” Fletcher nodded. “Besides, that way we can bring you home when you’re done at the hospital.” “It’ll be late.” “We’re coming.” Tim took in this exchange. “I’ve got an evidence tech on the way. The tech will take care of the door after he dusts for prints and photographs it as the point of entry.” Ray asked Hayley to drive his Explorer because he didn’t relish the idea of folding himself up to get into her Mustang. She strapped Fletcher into the back seat and followed the route the ambulance took to the hospital. Once there she settled into the waiting room with Fletcher in her lap, reassuring him that it wouldn’t be long, that everything was all right. An older woman, a hospital volunteer, brought her a Styrofoam cup of tea, insisting it would calm her. Hayley accepted it out of politeness, but her hands shook so badly she couldn’t drink it. She left it sitting in a pool of its own splatter on the Formica-topped table next to her. She leaned back in the uncomfortable plastic chair and replayed the events of the evening. She’d been getting ready for bed when she remembered she hadn’t set the alarm. The moment she’d left the bathroom after washing her face and brushing her teeth, there Carlos was, just outside the entrance to the hallway.
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Her mind wouldn’t shut off now as she revisited every word she’d spoken, him coming toward her with that knife, Ray coming to her rescue. Again. Had she ever been so scared in her life? She’d escaped from Carlos because Ray distracted him, but then he’d gone after Ray and he’d drawn blood. What ifs raced through her thought processes now. What if the knife wound had been deeper or in a slightly different location? What if it had nicked an important artery, and Ray had bled out right there on the tile floor before the ambulance arrived. What if Carlos had been successful in his attempt to take Fletcher? Everything she’d hoped to avoid had happened anyway. She hadn’t been able to protect Fletcher on her own. If it weren’t for Ray, she’d probably be dead right now. And Fletcher? Who knew what Carlos would have done with him. Worst of all, she hadn’t protected Ray from Carlos. She’d allowed him to get close to her, something she never should have done. Fletcher was half asleep straddling her lap, his head just below her chin. She kissed his hair and stroked his back while she tried to imagine what her life was going to be like without him. Once he was adopted, she’d never hold him again, never comfort him, never feel his arms tight around her neck or see him smile. Tears welled in her eyes and she let them overflow. “Once there was a little boy,” she said softly, uncertain whether Fletcher was even still awake, “who couldn’t find his voice. But everybody loved him because he was a special little boy.” Hayley swiped at her tears and pressed her lips to the top of Fletcher’s head. He didn’t stir. “He needed a family and he found one. One with a mommy and a daddy and a house and a big, fenced-in yard and a swingset. And a dog. Because every little boy should have a dog.” More tears fell, but Hayley went on
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with her story. “And then he found his voice too. Because he wasn’t afraid anymore. His new family kept him safe, and no one could hurt him ever again. He was such a brave little boy.” Hayley’s cheek pressed against the top of Fletcher’s head. “His temporary mommy missed him, though. She missed him a lot because she loved him. Even though she had to let him go.” To distract herself from her bout of melancholy, Hayley tried to focus on the TV in the deserted waiting room. Someone had left it tuned to a baseball game. She didn’t understand baseball. Watching it bored her almost as much as watching golf tournaments. But she stared at the television, willing her mind to shut itself off until a nurse opened a door and called her back to the treatment area. She shifted Fletcher’s weight so his head was on her shoulder and followed the nurse. In the glare of overhead fluorescent lighting, Ray looked exhausted. “He’s got a nice bump on his head and a whole bunch of stitches in his side, but he’s going to be okay,” the nurse informed them briskly. “You can take him home. Here’s instructions for care and a prescription for pain meds.” She hefted a sheaf of papers. “You have any problems, you call this number.” She circled a phone number at the top of the first page and handed them all to Hayley. “You want me to get a wheelchair, Mr. Braddock?” “No, that’s okay.” Ray slid off the cot, his normal, easy gait slow and measured. They’d given him a hospital gown, which he wore over his cargo shorts. Fletcher barely stirred when Hayley transferred him to the Explorer’s back seat. She helped Ray into the passenger seat. They drove home in silence. When they arrived, Hayley gently touched his arm. “Stay with me tonight, okay?” “Okay.” “Let me get Fletcher into bed. I’ll be right back.”
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Once inside, Ray steadied himself against the closed door before he let himself lean on Hayley. Together they navigated the hallway. She yanked the comforter and sheets back, and Ray sat heavily on the mattress. “Did they give you anything for the pain?” “Just a shot before they stitched me up. He fumbled in his shorts pocket. “I’ve got a couple more pills here somewhere.” He gave up trying to find them. “Let’s take these clothes off.” Hayley untied the strings of the hospital gown and tugged it away. Blood had dried along the waistband and down the length of his cargo shorts. Hayley searched the pockets and found a small plastic bag with two white pills inside and instructions written on the outside. “I’ll get you some water.” She disappeared for a minute, and Ray wondered if he was in some sort of woozy shock. He gazed around at all the softly feminine touches in her room, the pain in his side a barely recognizable indication of why he was there. He remembered the day of her migraine when he’d thought her room needed a man’s touch, or at least a man. And now here he was, sitting on her fluffy, girly bed as if he belonged there. When she came back with the water, she offered him one of the pills, and he swallowed it. “You can take another pill in six hours. It says you can have Tylenol in between if you need it.” Carefully he lowered himself to the pillow, sucking in a breath when his side objected to the way he moved. Hayley helped him pick up his feet and settle his legs on the mattress. He crossed an arm over his eyes. “Ow.” He must have zoned out for a minute because the next thing he heard was the sound of a tissue being pulled from the box on the nightstand. He lowered his arm to see Hayley still standing next to the bed, tears streaming from her eyes in spite of the tissue she used to blot at them.
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“Hey, what’s the matter?” He reached for her, but since she was using both hands to hold the tissue, there was nothing to hold onto. He patted the bed on his uninjured side. “Come here.” She shook her head, tissue still pressed to her eyes. “I’m in no shape to, so don’t make me come get you.” She lowered the tissue. “You need to rest. I’ll sleep on the couch,” she managed in a soggy voice. “Like hell you will.” He pointed to the side of the bed he’d patted a moment ago. “Come. Here.” Still Hayley hesitated. “Come on,” Ray wheedled. “You know you want to.” She circled the bed and crawled in beneath his outstretched arm, lying next to his uninjured side, her head on his shoulder. He curled his arm around her and sifted some of her hair through his fingers. He kissed her forehead. “There, that’s better.” She sniffed. A long, shuddering sigh escaped her. Slowly she relaxed against him. Ray didn’t sleep. At best he dozed on and off through the night, waking up to the dull throb in his side. Twice he spilled some Tylenol out of the bottle and downed them with the water Hayley had left on the nightstand. She’d shifted away from him at some point, turning on her other side. But she was there in the bed next to him, which was, as far as he was concerned, where she belonged. He tried to gaze into the future before he dozed off again, but the future was masked in shadows of uncertainty. For now what he knew was Hayley and Fletcher were safe. If there was any justice in the world, Carlos Mariano would
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be kept under lock and key where he wouldn’t be able to get to either one of them. At six a.m. Hayley’s alarm clock went off, the unfamiliar beeping startling him awake. She levered herself up to reach over him to turn it off, giving him a close-up view of her very attractive cleavage. His raging hard-on warred with his stitched-up side and aching head. Hard to say which was making him more uncomfortable at the moment. He caught her when she would have moved away from him. He kissed her, cupping a full breast through the thin camisole. She kissed him back enthusiastically, her nipple beading against his thumb. He slid his hand beneath the camisole, pushing it up and away from her skin to cup her warm breast. “Take this off,” he whispered and she complied. She braced herself above him while he suckled her breasts, savoring the fullness and the heat of them. His hands explored lower, tangling in her sleep shorts and panties, until he found her hot, wet core. She gasped when he touched her there, eagerly rubbing against his knowing fingers. Wild excitement raced through him as their tongues and hands explored and touched after so long apart. “I missed you,” she whispered. “I missed you so much.” Tiny cries of ecstasy followed those words, and he felt her coil and tighten and then more wet heat as she came, sliding against his fingers one final time. She sighed into his mouth, and he felt her smile against his lips. He was in a quandary, knowing he was in no shape for a round of vigorous sex, which was what his body cried out for. He cupped her head and kissed her hard. “I don’t think I can—”
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She smiled against his lips again. “You don’t have to.” She slid her hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, closing around him. He gasped in approval. She pleasured him that way for a minute before releasing him and repositioning herself next to him. He helped her get his boxers off. She stepped out of bed for a moment and crossed to lock the door. When she came back, she parted his legs and knelt between them. She cupped his balls in one hand and lowered her mouth to him. Ray blanked out on everything except the mind-numbing pleasure of what she was doing to him. The gash in his side could have been nothing more than a scratch. The swollen bump on his head no more than a bee sting. Every scattered thought that ran through his unfocused mind had only to do with how to keep her there with him. Forever. “You didn’t have to do that.” “But you’re awfully glad that I did,” Hayley finished for him, grinning. She reached across him and drained the last of the water from the glass on the nightstand before settling down next to him. “Why do guys always say that?” “Um, because…” “Because you don’t think women like to do it,” Hayley finished his thought for him again. “Yeah. That’s pretty much it.” “But it doesn’t occur to you that some women do.” Ray covered his eyes with his forearm again. Rattled and unsettled, he didn’t think he was up for this conversation at the moment. Or any conversation for that matter. Tired and injured, he knew his defenses were down. He couldn’t take the kind of intimacy he and Hayley had just shared as lightly as she apparently could. Dogging him was the thought that she’d leave him. And he knew now that he’d be more devastated than when he lost Caroline.
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Sadness welled inside him. Tears pressed against his closed eyelids. Apparently he’d finally gotten in touch with his feminine side. Great. He felt Hayley pick her head up from his chest. “Ray?” She was probably peering up at him now. No way was he opening his eyes or moving his arm so she could see how upset he was. “What’s wrong?” she asked softly. “Did I hurt you?” Not yet, he answered silently. He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. She laid her head down once more, her fingers playing idly against his chest.
Around lunchtime, Ray heard Rick’s tow truck pull into the driveway. The engine cut and in seconds he heard the tromp of boots across the porch. The door opened and Rick’s head appeared. Spying Ray on the sofa, where he’d been flipping channels for the past two hours, he strode in, a bag from the convenience store deli in one hand and a tray with two cups in the other. “You sick?” he asked. He set the bag and tray down on the coffee table and took a good look at Ray. “Nah.” Rick crossed his arms over his chest and studied his twin. Ray refused to meet his gaze and stared moodily at the television. As if he’d discovered the root of the problem simply by looking at his brother, Rick relaxed after a minute and dropped into the seat at a right angle to Ray. “Well, if you’re not throwing up, I brought you a sub. If you are, don’t worry about it. I’ll eat it.” He handed Ray one of the drinks. Ray took it and set it on the end table next to him. Rick unwrapped his own sandwich and set the other one in front of
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Ray. He took a bite, swallowed, took a sip of soda. “Marlins/Braves should be on TBS about now.” Obligingly, Ray switched the channel, eyeing Rick’s sandwich. After Hayley had walked him home this morning he’d shooed her away, insisting he’d be fine on his own, not even letting her brew coffee for him when she offered. As a result, he hadn’t eaten. He’d barely moved from the sofa all morning. She’d wanted to stay, but of the two other instructors she’d normally call to take her classes, one was on vacation and the other had a stomach virus. She’d gotten his prescription for pain pills filled and raced in mid-morning to drop it off. After a quick hi-and-bye kiss and an assurance that he’d be okay, she went back to work. Carefully, he sat up, using the arm of the sofa as leverage and setting his feet carefully on the floor. Rick paused mid-chew and watched him. Ray unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. He leaned back against the sofa and stared at a point above the entertainment center while he chewed. Before he took another bite he said, “Fletcher’s father showed up last night.” He glanced in Rick’s direction. Rick reached for the remote and hit the mute button. “I thought he was in jail.” “Me too. He was, actually. Tim called me this morning. Evidently, the charges against him were dropped. They upgraded the assault charge to manslaughter when the victim died, but the only witness to the assault suddenly refused to testify. Without it the D.A. didn’t have enough of a case. So he walked day before yesterday. Showed up here last night. Broke into Hayley’s place.” He told Rick the whole story, leaving out the part about waking up in bed with Hayley this morning and what had ensued afterward. When Ray finished, Rick said, “You want to go see Doc Sellers? Let him take a look at that?” He gestured to Ray’s side.
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“No. It’s just a scratch. Hurts like a sonofabitch, though.” Rick turned the volume back up on the game and let Ray finish his sandwich. During a commercial break he gathered up the discarded wrappings and stuffed them back in the bag. “So,” he ventured. “Anything new with you and Hayley? You talk her into staying?” Rick had read his mind. He’d bet a hundred dollars his twin knew exactly what his mood was about today, and that it had nothing to do with his massive headache or the pain emanating from the knife wound. “I don’t want to talk her into anything. If she stays, it has to be because it’s what she wants.” “Yeah, well,” Rick said thoughtfully, “people don’t always know what they want. Until they think they’ve lost it.” When Ray made no comment, Rick went on. “When I met Kaylee, she was on her way to Miami. I wanted her to stay, but I made her go ahead with her plans anyway. I sure as hell didn’t want to tie her down when she didn’t want to be after what happened with Brenda. “But the minute she left I knew I’d made a big mistake. I went looking for her and kicked myself six ways to Sunday when I couldn’t find her. Thought I’d lost her for good.” “But you’re together now,” Ray pointed out. “Yeah. Because she came back. And when she did it took me about six seconds to ask her to marry me.” “You always were a bit slow,” Ray told him affectionately, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Rick tossed the balled-up sack of sandwich wrappings and potato chip bags at him. Reflexively, Ray raised his hand to bat it away. “Ow. Ow. That hurt.”
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“Big baby.” After a bit Rick said, “Hayley knows you want her to stay, right?” “She knows.” “Then you leave it up to her. Could be she’s a little slow, like me. Or a little scared.” “Or a lot scared.” Rick shrugged. “Maybe. You know planes fly in both directions. It might take her leaving to figure out what she really wants.” “Gee, thanks. That makes me feel so much better.” Rick laughed and picked up the bag of trash from where it had rolled across the floor. “You know what they say… It ain’t over—” “’Til it’s over.”
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Chapter Twenty-Seven
When Hayley arrived home from the Y the next day, it was to find Ray sitting at her kitchen table supervising two other men. Gone was the sliding glass door that Carlos had so easily popped out of its frame to gain access to her unit the other night. The two men were finishing installation of new doors. “What’s all this?” she asked as she and Fletcher came toward him. She dropped her purse and her keys on the counter. Fletcher ran toward Ray and would have leapt on him, had Ray not held him away from his injured side. “Come around on this side, buddy.” He patted his thigh. Obediently Fletcher circled the chair and climbed up on Ray. Ray brushed his lips across Fletcher’s temple. “Did you have fun at school today?” Fletcher’s head bobbed up and down. He murmured something unintelligible in the back of his throat. “We’ll go let Oscar out in a little bit, okay?” Fletcher nodded again, then slid off Ray’s lap and went to turn on the TV. Hayley couldn’t decide if Fletcher and Ray had had an actual conversation right in front of her or if Ray was only guessing at whatever the sound Fletcher made meant. She looked toward the new doors and the workmen, who were now busy cleaning up the mess they’d made. “So what’s going on?” “Don’t I get a kiss?” Ray grinned up at her. She stepped forward and obliged, the peck she’d intended turning into something with more depth and meaning. When it ended, she gazed into his
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eyes and rubbed her thumb thoughtfully against his lips, realizing she’d temporarily lost her train of thought. “So what’s with the new doors?” she finally asked. She straightened to inspect them while Ray explained. “I’m replacing the ones in my unit as well. Those others were old and flimsy. These are sliders made to look like French doors. Top of the line, almost tamper-proof.” He got to his feet. The workmen had stepped outside and were loading their tools into a van parked in the alley. “They’ve got steel locking pins top and bottom.” Ray pointed them out to her. “Shatter resistant glass reinforced with the same coating they use on windows in war zones. There are shades built in between the glass. The screen slider locks, too.” He demonstrated for her and then stood back, waiting for her reaction. One of the men approached with a paper in his hand. Ray slid the door open and took it from him. “Thanks, Don.” The guy offered a half wave and returned to the van. Ray closed the door. “Ray, this really wasn’t necessary,” Hayley began. “Of course it was. I just didn’t realize it. Not like this is a high crime area, but—” “But Carlos targeted me. Because of Fletcher. That’s why you got hurt—” She turned away, wrapping her arms tightly around her middle. Ray eased up behind her. He dropped his hands on her shoulders. “Hey,” he said softly near her ear. “Carlos is in jail,” she reminded him. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble and expense.” “I just want to keep you safe. You and Fletcher.” “But we’re not going to be here—” “Forever. Yeah, I know.”
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She turned around. “Ray, I—” “Forget it. This way I know you’ll be safe for however long you stay.”
A few weeks later, after their evening together on the porch, after Hayley had finished the last of her wine, Ray kissed her good-bye and went home. Hayley no longer pressed him to stay. She had no right. But every night after he left she felt bereft. Fletcher’s adoption would be finalized tomorrow. Hayley had packed his things. Callie would arrive early to pick him up. He’d be gone, and there’d be nothing stopping her from moving forward with her plan to relocate to L.A. If she still wanted to go. Hayley went into the kitchen and put her wineglass in the dishwasher. Absently she leafed through the folder she’d put together for her meeting with Pablo tomorrow. She’d used one of the Y’s computers over the last couple of days to condense her notes into bullet points and printed out copies for both herself and Pablo. She’d tried to quell her excitement about putting the program together because she wasn’t at all sure she’d be around to see it come to fruition. At the moment she didn’t feel sure of anything. Every choice she’d made recently somehow seemed muddled and wrong. Hayley returned to her chair on the porch. Unhappiness seemed to ooze from her pores. It made no sense. She’d achieved exactly the outcome she’d hoped for. Fletcher would be adopted by a family he had no connection to. He’d be safe from Carlos forever. She’d done the right thing, kept her promise to Steffie, and now she could move on with her own life like she’d planned. Why then did she feel so miserable? Ray. That was the simple answer. She sat on the fence, afraid to choose. Ray was a forever kind of guy, he’d assured her, and he’d shown her he’d never
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let her down. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe him. The problem was she no longer believed in herself. The simple truth was she was scared. She hated that about herself, but she didn’t know how to get past it. While she contemplated the possibilities for her future, a car turned the corner and parked on the road in front of the house. The driver’s side door opened, and Hayley recognized Niko when the interior lights came on. She didn’t know why, but she welcomed his surprise visit. She’d begun to plan on him showing up when she least expected him. She’d discovered a message on her cell phone voice mail from him warning him about Carlos’s release. Somehow she had missed his call. He strode up the driveway and she rose to open the screen door. The candle she’d lit earlier gave off a soft glow. “Hi, Niko.” “How you doing, Hayley?” He glanced around before he came in and let the screen fall closed behind him. “Want to sit?” Hayley invited. “Mind if we go inside?” “No, not at all.” Hayley extinguished the candle and Niko followed her into the living room. “Can I get you something to drink?” “No. I’m not staying.” They sat on the sofa. Niko kept glancing around. He seemed nervous. “What’s going on, Niko?” He wiped the palms of his hands down the thighs of his jeans. “I wanted to ask you something.” “What’s that?” “I wanted to ask you if you could adopt Fletcher.”
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“What? Niko we talked about this. You told me what Carlos was capable of, what I needed to do to keep Fletcher safe. Specifically, Fletcher is better off the farther away from me he is.” “No, he’s not.” Hayley lifted her hands and let them fall. “I can’t take that chance.” “You’re scared. I get that.” Leave it to Niko to put it all concisely into a nutshell. Before she could say anything, he went on. “I been thinking a lot about this, about being scared. Not doing what’s right because I’m afraid.” His gaze captured hers, his dark eyes glittering. “Living in fear ain’t no way to live.” “I never thought you were afraid of anything. Not even Carlos. You were the only one I ever saw who stood up to him.” Niko’s fists clenched, before he forcibly relaxed them once again. “I put on a good show, huh? What I should have done was take them both and go far away, some place he couldn’t find us. But I was afraid. What would I do once I got there? What kind of life could I make for them? I don’t know anything except what I been doing my whole life. Running with Carlos.” He looked away for a moment and then back at Hayley as if gauging whether or not she understood what he was telling her. “It’s not too late,” she told him. “You can change your life, make new plans.” “That’s what I came to tell you. You don’t have to be afraid of Carlos anymore. He ain’t going nowhere but prison this time. I’m going to make sure of that.” “How? What are you going to do?” “What I should have done a long time ago.” Niko stood. “Living in fear? It ain’t no way to live.”
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Hayley stood as well, still trying to make sense of Niko’s cryptic words. He shifted from foot to foot as they faced each other. “Can I see him?” “He’s asleep, but sure.” Niko followed her to the hallway. She turned on the light and opened Fletcher’s bedroom door and stepped back. Fletcher was on his back, his limbs flung every which way except for one arm curled around his bear. The covers were tangled around his legs. Hayley backed away and let Niko enter. She was more sure than ever that Niko and not Carlos was Fletcher’s father, even though he’d never come right out and said so. Like her, Niko wanted what was best for Fletcher. However, Niko hadn’t convinced her that she was what was best for him. A few minutes later Niko reappeared. Hayley followed him to the door. “Think about it, okay? It’s not too late.” It was, but she saw no point in telling Niko that. “It was good to see you, Niko. Take care.” She closed and locked the door behind him then leaned against it. She couldn’t imagine how Niko planned to eliminate Carlos as a threat but it was indeed too little and much too late.
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Chapter Twenty-Eight
Midmorning the following day, Hayley dragged her feet to the end of the driveway. She’d slept badly, tossing and turning with images of Ray and Fletcher and Niko haunting her along with snippets of conversation replaying through her head. She hadn’t collected her mail for a couple of days. All that ever arrived was junk mail and bills. Forms from the state. But those would cease now that she no longer had custody of Fletcher. It had happened so fast, Hayley could barely comprehend how quickly Fletcher had vanished from her life. A short time ago, he’d gone to his first meet and greet with prospective adoptive parents, and today he was being signed, sealed and delivered to his adoptive family. She had no idea who had adopted him. She hadn’t felt she had the right to ask. Callie had assured her Fletcher would be loved and well-taken care of for the rest of his life, and since she trusted Callie, she had to comfort herself with that. She brushed aside the useless tears. They kept sneaking up on her. She knew she’d done the right thing. God knew she’d agonized over it for weeks. As attached as she’d become to Fletcher, she knew in her heart she was in no position to parent him alone. He deserved more than he’d gotten in his short life. Now Fletcher would have a good home surrounded by people who would love him and take care of him the way he deserved to be.
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But still, she felt sad and empty. She told herself she’d get over it. Once she moved, she wouldn’t have to look at Fletcher’s empty room every day and be reminded of him. Her relationship with Ray would certainly change now that Fletcher was gone. Ray loved that little boy. Giving him up would not only leave a hole in Hayley’s life, but in Ray’s as well. Plus, she’d be living several thousand miles away. Probably such a long distance relationship wouldn’t last long. Ray had made it clear what he wanted. He wanted her to stay. He wanted her to keep Fletcher. She didn’t see how she could do either. Nor, probably, should she, just to please him. She had to do what was right for her. Even if she was becoming less sure with each passing day exactly what that was. She yanked the door of the mailbox open, scolding herself for continuing to dwell on the outcome of a decision she couldn’t reverse. She’d done what she thought was best for everyone concerned, but mostly for Fletcher. She had no choice but to live with it. The mailbox was half-filled with flyers and advertisements and envelopes containing requests for charitable contributions and offers for credit cards. Hayley sorted through it absently as she started back to the house. Most of it could go directly into the recycling bin. But there was one thick envelope with a return address she recognized. She held the heavy vellum in her hand and got that sick feeling in her stomach. The same one she got every time she saw mail from Trey’s attorney. On the porch she sank into a chair and set the other mail on the table. The divorce had been finalized months and months ago. She and Trey had nothing more to say to each other. She had nothing he would want, nothing he could take
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he hadn’t already taken. Why now should she receive correspondence from his attorney? Bracing herself, she ripped the envelope open with one finger under the flap, leaving an ugly jagged tear across the expensive stationery. Several thick sheets of paper fell out into her lap and a lighter, narrower piece of paper fluttered to the floor. It looked like a check. Hayley picked it up and stared at her name and at all the zeroes after the first number. This had to be a mistake. She shuffled through the papers, righting them, and began to read a handwritten letter from Trey himself. Dear Hayley, First of all I want to tell you I’m sorry. For everything. Saying “I’m sorry” doesn’t make what I did to you okay or forgivable, but I need you to know I regret everything I put you through. None of it was your fault. I was a sorry S.O.B. out of his head on drugs and booze and my own misery. I know I blamed you. It was easier than blaming myself or taking responsibility for my own life. But you were never to blame for the things I did. I’ve lost you. It kills me to say it, think it or write it, but I know it’s true. I killed whatever love you had for me, and I’ll probably regret that forever, no matter how much I deserve it. My worst fear is no one will ever love me the way you did. Believe me, I’ve had a lot of time to think since I sobered up. It’s pretty much all I do. Good thing I’m not the suicidal type, huh? I was a shit about the divorce. Again, not what you deserved. I’m not proud of myself or the way I behaved. I should have stood up for you and I didn’t. Somebody should have kicked me to the curb for being such a jerk.
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I’ve apologized to Andre and he accepted. He told me about Steffie. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when she died. I think it’s great that you took Fletcher. He’s a lucky kid. We always talked about having kids someday, didn’t we? I’m sorry now we never got around to it, because maybe they’d be a reason you’d give me another chance to be there for you. You’ll be a terrific mother. Anyway, I told the lawyers to put a check in here for you, and a whole bunch of legal papers they claim are necessary. You probably don’t care, but my new goal in life is to stop being a self-centered jerk and try to be the man I should have been so you’d still be here. Don’t laugh, but I’ve been in therapy and I think it’s helping. This is probably impossible, and I know it’s asking a lot, but I hope I haven’t killed everything you ever felt for me. Maybe we can be friends or something. Maybe I can call you every once in a while just to talk and see how you are. Love always, Trey Tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks as she read and re-read his letter along with the other enclosures. Even though it was too little and much too late, Trey had directed his attorneys to give Hayley more than she’d originally asked for as a divorce settlement. Now? she wanted to say to him. Now, you’re giving me this? For more than a year she’d barely been able to make ends meet. Her financial situation was one of the reasons she’d given up Fletcher. Would the money have made a difference? Hayley gazed out at her surroundings and pondered that question. Maybe. Maybe not. Financial security was not going to magically turn her into the best parent for Fletcher. She was still convinced of that. But it would have made things easier. www.samhainpublishing.com
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Certainly money would have made it easier to create a new life and new identities for herself and Fletcher had she chosen to go that route. Why, she wondered, was everything coming together for her now? Ray hadn’t dumped her when she’d given Fletcher up for adoption as she’d feared he would. In fact, he’d been even more attentive and supportive, if that were possible. Even her “career”, such as it was, seemed to be coming together. In spite of her doubts about her own qualifications, she’d come up with some ideas for the Girls Fitness Academy. She’d had another meeting with Pablo last week. Though there were no guarantees, he was certain he could acquire the funding for it, and he’d assured her that the Y would reimburse her tuition if she decided to complete her degree, something he strongly encouraged her to do. But what good was financial security, a career, a relationship? She’d lost Fletcher. She’d always wonder how he was, what became of him, but she’d never know. He’d grow up to be a man, and he’d forget her. Maybe he’d forget Steffie too, who’d given birth to him and did her best to be a mother to him, but she didn’t know how. And neither did I, Hayley thought sadly. She hadn’t a clue how to mother that little boy. Again came the thought that Ray had done a better job of parenting Fletcher than she had. He’d drawn Fletcher out of his shell with Oscar. He treated Fletcher like an equal, never making a judgment about his lack of speech as many people did. Maybe somebody like Ray would adopt Fletcher. Someone who had a wife to be a mother to him. Maybe they had other children as well. Fletcher could have a whole family to love him and accept him. Hayley tried to smile at the thought that Fletcher would be surrounded by people who loved him. But the smile fought with the tears that still pressed behind her eyes at her own sadness. She’d miss him like crazy. She hadn’t
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known how much until now. She’d given him up, let him go to strangers, believing he’d be better off. But would he? Hadn’t he already been surrounded by people who loved him? Her and Ray. Molly. Rick and Kaylee. Somehow she’d already created the kind of family for Fletcher she’d been so sure he needed. You’ll be a terrific mother. Trey probably knew her better than anybody, yet he’d never told her that before. And why it should mean so much to her now, she couldn’t say. But what if he was right? Maybe she had a higher learning curve than other women, but who was to say she couldn’t learn to be the kind of mother Fletcher needed? She sat up straighter as another revelation struck her. And who said she had to move to L.A. to have a career and finish her degree? Pablo had offered her those same opportunities at the local Y? She no longer felt the need to move across the country to get away from Trey and her bad memories. She was over him. She’d known that for weeks. Her past was behind her, and she had only the future to look forward to. A future created by her own choices and decisions. She stared at her surroundings as if she’d never seen them before. The huge oak trees shading the yard in front of the duplex. The small town street with no sidewalks bordered with small family homes, minivans and compact cars in the driveways. Though unpretentious, the neighborhood had always somehow infused her with a sense of security. Could this be where she was meant to be? What had happened to her desire to leave here as soon as she could? That desire seemed to have dissipated in direct proportion to the growth of her relationship with Ray. He’d stuck it out, even when she made it clear she had no intention of adopting Fletcher. But would he, could he, forgive her that? More importantly, would she be able to forgive herself if she didn’t at least try to
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be a mother to her stepsister’s child? Hadn’t she promised Steffie that she would do right by Fletcher? What if adopting him was the right thing for both of them? She’d been so determined to stick to her plan she’d lost sight of the fact that the plan had become unnecessary. For so long it had been the only thing getting her through each day of these past few months—the shell-shock when her divorce was finalized, her grief over Steffie, the bureaucratic red tape keeping Fletcher had required, her worry over his welfare when he refused to speak. The plan for her future had been like a life preserver, something she’d been swimming for, looking forward to. Without it she’d been afraid she’d simply give up and let the wayward waves of life take her where they would. She’d been so focused on the plan, she hadn’t realized she’d reached a safe shore weeks ago. She’d been hanging on to that life preserver, afraid to let go. She didn’t need it anymore, but maybe she’d hung on too long. Niko’s words came back to her. Living in fear ain’t no way to live. What if it wasn’t too late? She stood abruptly, the papers and check falling to the floor. What if she could stop the adoption? She raced inside to grab her purse and car keys. The Mustang flew over the back roads while Hayley’s mind raced. Butterflies set up a constant drum in her stomach, not in excitement or anticipation, but in potential disappointment. What would she say if she got there in time? Sorry, you can’t have Fletcher. I changed my mind. I want to adopt him. Surely the potential adoptive parents were under no obligation to give up their claim on Fletcher. What if they said no? Hayley chewed on her bottom lip. They wouldn’t, she decided. She’d beg and plead and promise until they agreed to give Fletcher back to her. Forever. She smiled a little at the thought. Ray would be part of that forever too. She hadn’t believed in the possibility of forever in such a long time. But if she, or
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maybe she and Ray, adopted Fletcher, he’d be their son forever. She wouldn’t have to wonder years from now how he turned out, where he was or what he’d accomplished in his life. She’d be right there every step of the way, cheering him on. She almost laughed at the thought. She hadn’t felt like cheering for anything or anyone in a very long time. Maybe she needed to learn to be her own cheerleader, to believe she could win even when it seemed the odds were against her. She reached the outskirts of Jannings Point and realized she didn’t know where the adoption proceeding was taking place. The courthouse possibly? At a stoplight, she retrieved her cell phone and punched in Callie’s office number. When Callie didn’t pick up, she was offered the option of leaving a message on voice mail or being routed to the main switchboard. She punched in two for the switchboard. The reluctant receptionist wouldn’t give her specifics about the hearing, only telling her that such proceedings were normally held in a judge’s chamber at the courthouse. Hayley turned right and breathed a sigh of relief when she found a parking place in the courthouse lot. She ran into the building and slowed immediately for the security inspection. Obediently she placed her purse on the conveyor belt and got in line for the walk through the metal detector. Once through, she approached the information desk manned by two uniformed sheriff’s deputies, one of whom she recognized from the Y. His gaze flickered over her in surprised recognition. She gave him her best smile. “Hi, how are you?” He grinned back. “Doing okay. How’s it going?” “Um, I’m supposed to attend an adoption hearing in the judge’s chambers this morning, but I forgot the judge’s name and I don’t know where it is.”
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“That’d be Judge Wilkinson. Second floor. Anteroom C.” “Oh, thanks. Thank you so much.” She turned for the elevator, nearly bouncing up and down in nervousness and anticipation. What if she was too late? What if she wasn’t? “Stairs might be faster,” the deputy called out. “Turn left at the top. It’s the third door on your right.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Thanks.” She took the stairs two at a time, and in seconds she was in front of the door. She took a deep breath, knocked twice and entered. The buzz of conversation inside the room ceased. She stopped short, the door drifting to a close behind her as she stared at the familiar faces of those gathered around a large conference table all turned toward her. Her mouth dropped open in surprise, but no words came out until her gaze zeroed in on Ray’s. He smiled and stood to approach her. He took her hand, kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear. “I knew you’d come.” She stared at him, her gaze briefly flickering to the others in the room. Callie was there, of course, but so was Roscoe, dressed neatly in a short-sleeved, blue-striped shirt and navy slacks. Kaylee and Rick smiled back at her, as did Lena and Ken. Lena and Ken? Her surprise turned to shock when she spied not only Andre and Phil, but Paige and Lonny as well. A middle-aged man in a blue pinstriped suit and burgundy tie occupied the seat at one end of the scarred conference table. He must be Judge Wilkinson. Her friends stepped forward to greet her. Paige was the last to envelop her in a hug, and Hayley whispered to her, “I don’t understand. What’s going on?” Paige squeezed her and let go, whispering, “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
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Except for the judge, she knew everyone in the room. Where were Fletcher’s adoptive parents then? Fletcher slid off his chair and hugged her legs. Automatically she patted his back and bent to drop a kiss on his head. “Hi, sweetie.” He tilted his head back and held his arms up. She picked him up and hugged him to her, determined to never let him go. “What’s going on?” This she directed at Ray. “We were waiting for you.” He grinned at her. “Waiting for me?” The judge looked at his watch. “Pardon me, Miz Christopher. I’m Judge Wilkinson.” He nodded in her direction. “I have a custody hearing in half an hour. Now that all the parties are present, could we move forward?” “I thought—there must be some mistake,” Hayley stuttered. She looked around the room as if she could find an explanation there. “I thought this was Fletcher’s adoption proceeding.” “It is.” Ray guided her to the chair next to his. Her gaze moved around the table once more. Rick and Kaylee smiled encouragingly. Callie gave her a triumphant nod. Roscoe’s grin stretched from ear to ear. Even Lena and Ken offered her encouraging smiles and nods of approval. Fletcher settled into her lap as soon as she sat down. “Miz Christopher,” the judge began, “Now that you’re here, we can move forward.” Exasperated, Hayley said, “Would someone please explain what’s going on?” Callie held up a hand when Ray started to speak. “Ray arranged to adopt Fletcher when you decided not to.” Hayley stared first at Callie and then at Ray. “But you never said a word.”
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“Because you made it clear that you didn’t think you were the best candidate,” Callie went on. “He didn’t want to put any pressure on you.” Hayley looked at Ray and he nodded. “When it came time to draw up the papers, he asked me to create two sets of documents. One in his name only and another with both your names. We been sittin’ here for fifteen minutes listening to his assurances that you’d be here.” Judge Wilkinson sighed and pushed his cuff back to take a look at his watch. “Miz Christopher, I understand you’ve been through the approval process required by the State of Florida to become an adoptive parent, so I’ll ask you now, by your presence here today is it your intention to legally adopt the minor child, Fletcher Luis Mariano?” It was Hayley’s turn to smile. “Yes, sir, it is.” Ray squeezed her hand. She squeezed back. “Then let’s get to it.” He nodded at Callie. “Miz Maxwell?” The next half hour passed in a daze for Hayley as she listened and nodded and signed her name numerous times next to Ray’s. The judge stood and congratulated them. They were now Fletcher’s legal parents. The enormity of what she’d committed to washed over Hayley, but she didn’t have time to think about it as chatter and congratulations broke out, and she was hugged and fussed over by everyone present, including Ray’s mother. “You’re just what he needs,” Lena murmured in her ear. “And so is that precious little boy.” “Okay,” Kaylee called out, as they reached the steps outside the building. “The birthday party’s at our house. We’ll see you there.” Ray hadn’t let go of her hand while they made their way out of the building, and he still held it. “Birthday party?” she asked. He gave her a sheepish grin. “It’s my birthday.”
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“Your birthday! Oh, Ray, how could I not know that? I didn’t get you anything.” He pulled her close. “You’ve given me everything I wanted.” He bent to kiss her, but Fletcher wormed his way between them, reaching his arms up toward Hayley and chanting something that sounded like. “Mommm, mommmm.” Hayley glanced from Fletcher to Ray. “Did he just say what I thought he said?” “I think so.” She swung Fletcher up and held him tightly. His arms circled her neck, and he squeezed her back. “Oh, Fletcher, I love you so much.” Hayley couldn’t quite make out the garbled sound he made in reply, but she decided it was his version of “I love you too.” “Ready to go?” Ray asked. “I’m ready for anything.”
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Chapter Twenty-Nine
“I did it again, didn’t I?” Hayley asked Paige. They’d managed to escape the party and step outside together to stroll arm in arm along the tree-lined street in front of Rick and Kaylee’s house. “Did what?” “Messed up our plans.” “Oh hush,” Paige said. “You didn’t mess up anything.” “I had a plan, though, just like when we were in college. And I swore this time I wouldn’t let a man get in the way.” Paige gave her a gentle nudge with her hip. “Just between you and me, I don’t think he messed anything up for you. And he certainly isn’t standing in your way. On the contrary, I think Ray’s the kind of guy who’s going to be standing beside you every step of the way. Forever.” Hayley hadn’t had a minute alone with Ray all day, yet a new sense of confidence infused her. Her future with Ray and Fletcher, her new job at the Y, even completion of her college education had been settled. For so long the possibilities for her future had spun around her like sand particles in a cyclone with her caught in the middle unable to grasp the ones she wanted, until they all fell into place today. Instead of the rather murky concept of what might happen once she put her L.A. relocation plan into place, she had a clear vision of the direction she was headed. Hayley smiled. “Yeah. He’s a forever kind of guy, that’s for sure.”
A Forever Kind of Guy
They walked for a few minutes in silence before Hayley said, “But what about you? You’re going to need help once the baby comes. And I won’t be there. I feel like I’m letting you down again.” Paige grinned. “Well don’t. I already hired your replacement. Replacements, I should say.” “You have? Who?” “Andre and Phil.” “Andre and Phil? How could I not know about this?” “Because we’ve all been plotting behind your back.” Paige gave Hayley another hip nudge. “Andre and I’ve been in touch more so than usual the last few months, ever since he came to visit you and met Ray.” “Oh really?” “Yes really. And we decided since we both love you and want what’s best for you, even when it’s staring you in the face and you can’t see it—” “Paige!” Hayley pretended outrage even though she knew Paige spoke the truth. It had taken her much too long to see what her two best friends saw or sensed from the beginning. “You were so dead set on sticking to your plan, you were looking to throw away something really special. Not just Ray, but Fletcher too. We couldn’t let that happen.” “So you’ve been plotting. The two of you?” “Maybe plotting’s too strong of a word. Encouraging. That’s what we’ve been doing.” “Encouraging me toward Ray.” “Encouraging you to do what was best for you, not what you thought everyone else expected. Not stick to a plan you made months or years ago when it was no longer right for you. We wanted you to be happy, that was all.”
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“And you didn’t think I could figure out how to do that on my own?” “I was afraid maybe you forgot how,” Paige said quietly. Hayley chuckled. “I think I came close.” “Anyway,” she said, as they turned a corner, “Once Andre and Phil retire after this season, they’ll be ready for a change of scene. My L.A. crowd’s going to go crazy over them. They’re both in great physical condition, cameras love them and they already have a following. Phil’s got a background in marketing, and Andre needs to use that business degree he got while he was playing at LSU. It’s going to work out perfectly for all of us.” “Except for me,” Hayley told her wistfully. “I miss you. And now I’ll miss seeing Andre and Phil too.” “Not to worry. I already told Ray we expect long-weekend visits from you guys quarterly. And we’re going to be popping back here on a regular basis as well. There’s no way my child’s going to grow up and not know who his godmother is.” “His?” “Or hers,” Paige said playfully. “But I think it’s a him.” They meandered the rest of the way around the block until they arrived back at the house. Ray was leaning against the rear of his Explorer. “I think I’ll go see what Lonny’s up to,” Paige informed them and went inside. Ray watched Paige’s progress until the door closed behind her. “I knew there was a reason I liked her.” Hayley poked him in the ribs. “Too bad for you, she’s married.” “Ha ha.” Ray’s hand cupped the back of her head. Shivers ran down her spine. When he kissed her she discovered all the little broken pieces of her shattered heart had glued themselves back together. She was whole again. She’d
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almost lost everything but she’d gained more than she’d ever thought possible. When the kiss ended she looked into Ray’s eyes, sure of what she wanted to say. “Ray?” “Yeah?” “I love you. I’m in love with you. I should have told you before, but—” “But you were scared.” She nodded. Once again he needed no explanation. “But I’m not scared anymore. You’re my hero.” Ray smiled at her. “Nah, I just needed a damsel in distress to save me.” They gazed giddily into each other’s eyes for a moment before Ray snapped his fingers. “I got you something.” He opened the driver’s side door and reached across the seat. He reappeared and handed Hayley a bouquet of red roses. Tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, Ray. You didn’t have to do this. Adopting Fletcher, waiting for me to see what was right in front of me was enough.” “I’ve got some more news for you. Tim called a few minutes ago. Carlos is being charged with manslaughter after all. The witness that backed out agreed to testify after another witness came forward. A member of Carlos’s gang, as a matter of fact. So it looks like Carlos is going to be in jail for a long time.” “Wow. That is good news.” Ray grinned. “Would you like to go to the movies with me this weekend?” Hayley smiled back. “You mean like a date?” “Yeah. I think it’s time we started dating.” He bent to kiss her when an unusual sound broke the still air, a sound they’d never heard before. She and Ray turned to look at Fletcher as he trotted around the corner of the house toward them. He laughed out loud at Brutus, tugging for all he was worth on the other end of a long stick. When Fletcher saw
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Hayley watching, he repeated his earlier attention-getting statement, which to her ears most definitely sounded like. “Look, Mama.” “On second thought, since we’ve done everything else backwards, maybe we should get married before we start dating.” He grinned at her. “What do you think?” Hayley’s gaze drifted to Fletcher, who was still playing with Brutus. “I think I wanted Fletcher to have a real family. Some stability. It would be good if his parents were married. To each other.” “Right.” She turned back to Ray. “Hey, wait. Was that a proposal?” He’d been watching her closely the entire time. “No, it wasn’t, but this is.” He got down on one knee and took her hands in his. “Hayley, would you marry me?” She tugged her hands away from his and bent toward him, threading her fingers through his hair. “Would you marry me?” she asked softly. “For forever?” Ray grinned in delight. “Is there any other way?”
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About the Author
When not writing fiction, Dr. Seuss-like poetry or song lyrics, Barbara Meyers masquerades behind a green apron at the local Starbucks where she picks up story ideas in exchange for serving up lattes. A native of Southwest Missouri, she grew up in the Midwest, but was later successfully transplanted to Southwest Florida. Her hobbies include tormenting her long-suffering husband and interfering in the lives of her grown children. She also likes to sneak into nearby gated communities to walk her almost perfect dog, Pepper. For exercise and meditation, she plugs in MP3 ear buds and takes long bicycle rides and beach walks. For the truth about Barbara Meyers, check out www.barbmeyers.com. Follow her on Twitter at https://twitter.com/#!/barbmeyers Contact her at
[email protected]
Look for these titles by Barbara Meyers
Now Available: The Braddock Brotherhood A Month From Miami
A Month From Miami © 2008 Barbara Meyers
They told themselves it was only for a month… Perrish, Florida was supposed to be just an eye-blink for Kaylee Walsh on her way to a glamorous new life in Miami-minus her sleazy ex-boyfriend. She’s not about to let a little car trouble or an empty wallet throw a monkey wrench into her plans. Not even when there’s a handsome mechanic on the other end of that wrench. Rick Braddock knows better than to give a second glance to a woman with big-city dreams. But getting Kaylee back on the road means car repairs she can’t afford. So he offers a trade. His services for hers. As a babysitter and housekeeper, that is. They tell themselves it’s only for a month. But as they settle into comfortably domestic days and intensely intimate nights, Rick realizes what a treasure he’s discovered in Kaylee. And for Kaylee, the lure of Miami is losing its shine. Then Rick discovers a fortune in stolen gems hidden in her gas tank. Is Kaylee the woman he thought she was-or is she taking him for a ride? Warning: This title contains blowing and swallowing (of bubble gum), engines overheating with sexual tension, and explicit love scenes featuring superior handling and mind-blowing torque. Enjoy the following excerpt for A Month From Miami: She couldn’t tear her gaze off Rick. And it wasn’t just his bare chest, the well-developed biceps or the corded muscle in his arms. It was the area directly below the waistband of his jeans. The fly to be exact. The not-quite-zipped fly from which a glimpse of white briefs teased her imagination.
What would it be like, she wondered, to slide that zipper down ever so slowly. To ease that denim down over those briefs. To explore at her leisure what lay beneath. Heat swept over her. Unable to fight the feeling of light-headedness, she swayed slightly on the stool. “Oh!” She gripped the counter with her free hand to steady herself. “You okay?” Rick bent closer, peering at her. His fingers touched her ankle as if that would keep her upright. “I’m—I’m okay,” Kaylee breathed. Okay, if she didn’t count the hot spot that had developed on her ankle. “Let me see.” He covered the hand that held the washcloth and lifted it. The cut had stopped bleeding. Kaylee relinquished the washcloth without a fight. “How about some of this antibiotic ointment on there?” Rick held up a tube. “And we’ll wrap it in gauze for tonight. Tomorrow you can put bandages on it.” “Sure. Okay.” If he’d said, how about coming to bed with me and letting me kiss it and make it better, Kaylee knew she’d have agreed just as easily. With his forefinger, Rick spread a thin line of ointment along the narrow gash. Kaylee felt it as if his finger was touching not her foot, but somewhere much more sensitive. She held onto the counter as her eyes rolled back in her head. Her thoughts ran wild. Such tenderness. Such attention to detail, Kaylee thought. Is that how Rick would be as a lover? Stop it, she warned herself. It’s not like you’ll ever find out. She was here because of Old Blue. Which Rick would fix while she babysat Molly. For a month. No longer. Because she had bigger, more important places to be than
Perrish, Florida. And no man, not Bobby Lou Tucker, and certainly not Rick Braddock, was going to hold her back from her dreams. Rick wrapped a strip of gauze around her foot and secured it. “I think you’ll be okay now.” He tapped her ankle and stood. Kaylee did too, and that put them eye to eye and almost chest to chest in the tiny bathroom. She’d never been so aware of herself, of her own body, as she was standing in close proximity to Rick Braddock. She could feel every breath she took, felt her breasts swell and her nipples tighten beneath the thin fabric of her pajama top. The ribbed cotton taunted her with its light pressure. She needed more. Much more. Like Rick’s hands cupping her breasts, his thumbs rubbing her aching nipples, his tongue flattening against them. “You okay?” he asked in that husky nighttime voice of his. Moisture pooled between her thighs. “No. Yes.” Rick gave her an odd look. “Come on. Let’s get you back to bed.” “Yes.” Your bed. With you in it. Rick helped her to a chair then went for a broom and dustpan. Kaylee watched while he swept up the mess she’d made. “I’m sorry about your lamp. I’ll—I’ll replace it.” Even as she said it, she wondered how. Rick’s mouth quirked up in his now-familiar half smile. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll put it on your tab.” He dumped the broken pieces into the kitchen garbage can and returned. “Sorry about Brutus. He’s not usually so affectionate with—” “Strangers?” “Yeah.” Rick seemed confused by his dog’s uncharacteristic behavior.
“He’s usually out like a light on the floor by my bed, and he never moves.” “What can I say? Kids and dogs. They love me.” With men, however, it was an entirely different story. “I can’t believe all the ruckus didn’t wake up Molly.” “She’d sleep through a Category Eight hurricane. A broken lamp is nothing.” Kaylee nodded, glad she hadn’t disturbed anyone else. She crawled back to her makeshift bed and rearranged the sheet over her. Rick gazed at her for a moment, then took a couple of steps closer. “Will you be okay?” “Fine.” She forced a smile. “Good night.” He nodded, though he didn’t look terribly convinced. He moved away and turned off the overhead light. “Night.” He disappeared into the darkness. Rick stepped over Brutus and crawled back into bed, punching his pillow in frustration. Great, Braddock, just great. The first woman who’s turned you on in two years just happens to be Kaylee Walsh. Kaylee, who didn’t want to be stuck in a small town with a small-town guy any more than Brenda had. She’d hightail it to Miami as fast as that old car of hers could get her there once he had it up and running. Like Brenda, she wouldn’t look back at what she’d left behind. Rick flopped over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He’d known the moment he’d set eyes on her that Kaylee Walsh was nothing but trouble for him. He’d had an instantaneous gut reaction when he’d slid out from under Frank Selby’s pickup and spotted her standing over him. Tonight’s fiasco had done nothing but confirm his initial reaction. For as long as he lived he’d never forget the sight of a scantily dressed Kaylee sprawled
on the floor amidst the shattered lamp. Her brunette hair cascaded around her shoulders; her blue eyes were dazed and confused. The moment he’d touched her to help her into the bathroom, he’d reacted all the way to the tips of his toes. His fingertips had accidentally brushed the side of her breast and instantly longed to do more. The entire time they’d been in the bathroom, he’d had all he could do to act unaffected and stick to the business of dressing her wound. Rick rolled to his side, bunching the pillow until it was hard as a rock. If the rest of his body wasn’t getting any relief, why should his head? Kaylee’s nightclothes consisted of a ribbed cotton undershirt that hugged the curves of her generous breasts and vividly outlined her nipples, and a pair of equally well-fitting boxers that did fabulous things for her hips and exposed her legs in all their glory. Rick groaned and rolled to his stomach again. No. Bad idea. Too much pressure from the mattress. He flipped to his back and stared at the ceiling some more. What would it be like to have Kaylee’s curves pressed up against him? To feel the heat of her skin beneath his? To lift that skimpy shirt away from her breasts and slide a hand below the waistband of her boxers? He knew how it would be. In his heart he knew how it would be with Kaylee. Hot and glorious and passionate. Steamy, great sex. She’d give and she’d take in equal measures. And when she left, she’d take a piece of him he’d never get back. He couldn’t let that happen.
If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you…run.
Full Circle
© 2011 Avery Beck Nine years ago, Elisa Haley set tongues wagging when she returned home from college single and pregnant. Finally, her long-delayed graduation is just weeks away. She’s ready to move out and move on to a bright, shiny future in another state…until a face from her past walks into her brother’s veterinary office. A man who once offered her one night of comfort in his arms. The memory burns as hot in her soul as the guilty secret he must never learn. Tired of the big city, grieving a recent loss, Dr. Liam Barton longs for a home and family in a quiet small town. When he arrives for his first day at the veterinary clinic, he’s not surprised to find Elisa behind the desk. Curiously, though, she barely acknowledges their shared past, and insists she can’t wait to get out of the town he’s already come to love. Elisa, determined to be nothing more than friends, tries fixing Liam up with Windy Flats’ most eligible women. Yet the old passion still simmering between them melts her resolve, and uncovers secrets that refuse to stay buried. Secrets that put both their hard-earned futures—and their hearts—at risk. Warning: Paranormal? No. Sci-fi? Nothing otherworldly here. Just a sinfully gorgeous vet who loves animals, and knows how to turn a gal inside out with supremely mushy love scenes? Oh, absolutely! Enjoy the following excerpt for Full Circle: Liam closed the door of his Explorer and inhaled the breezy rural air. Though June in central Texas sent temperatures soaring above ninety, the sparsely populated roads and rich green trees of Windy Flats offered a welcome
respite from Dallas’s endless traffic jams and multiple high-rises. The silence alone made him feel he was on vacation instead of beginning his first day at a new job. He shouldn’t have any problem building a life here. He dropped his sunglasses into his pocket and headed for the single-story building in front of him. Modest in size, it appeared to have once been a house, which gave it a warm atmosphere a sterile office building couldn’t compete with. No wonder the town’s residents brought their beloved pets here for treatment and, occasionally, boarding. He’d done his research—Dr. Haley’s place was popular. To earn the partnership he eventually hoped to gain at the clinic, Liam suspected he might work harder to earn the respect of the clients than he would to treat their animals. The sun blazed down and he sweated as he made his way up the sidewalk, but the chill that greeted him when he stepped through the door didn’t come from the central air-conditioning. An attractive woman sat behind the desk, and though her fingers stopped typing when he entered, she continued to stare intently at her screen as though willing him to turn around and walk back out. He cleared his throat. “Excuse me, I’m—” “The new doctor.” Coming out of her trance, she rolled her chair away from the computer and faced him with crossed arms. His mouth fell open, his heart sinking to his knees. This woman didn’t look exactly like her, but at the same time, he knew those eyes. He knew that face, that voice. Elisa Haley, his most painful loss until his mother’s unexpected death a few months ago. She was in the same room with him for the first time in nine years.
“That’s right,” he managed to say through his shock. “Looks like you succeeded in your field of choice too.” He was referring to the way they’d met, in a first-year biology class back in college, where they had discovered their mutual pursuit of medicine and become friends. If they focused on the good memories, maybe he wouldn’t have to think about what had happened later. But she winced at his words. “I didn’t think you’d recognize me. I’ve changed a little.” A little was hardly accurate. The girl he remembered had long blonde hair and wore her makeup too heavy, her skirts too short. Not that she hadn’t looked good, but she had dressed that way for Brett. She had done entirely too many things for that loser. With any luck, that was part of the change. This woman had Elisa’s expressive eyes, and that same mouth he’d stopped himself from kissing so many times before he finally couldn’t take it anymore, but her hair was dark and barely touched her shoulders. Pastel scrubs draped her petite frame, and the absence of her old signature red lipstick brought more attention to flashing brown eyes that had back off written all over them. That was different. She’d never been much for telling anyone to back off. That kind of grit would have saved her a lot of trouble. He wanted to say a thousand things, ask a million questions. But his future in Windy Flats depended on everything going well today, and he couldn’t risk his position at the clinic by letting old hurts distract him. He opted for the casual greeting. “How have you been?” The strain on her face told him she didn’t welcome his presence. She stood and handed him a clipboard stuffed with paperwork.
“Justin’s with a patient, and he wants me to show you around until he’s finished. So let’s see. The first thing you should know is that we have a long list of female clients. With the addition of you, it will likely grow.” Ah, she wanted to play that game. As though he were a player who had left her. As though she hadn’t blatantly chosen someone else, and a miserable excuse for a man, at that. “That’s interesting, but I’m here for the animals, not the women.” Her gaze flicked to his left hand. She wasn’t going to ask, because she was doing a great job pretending this was the first day she’d ever laid eyes on him, but he didn’t mind her indifference. The last several years had brought nothing but bad news, and he intended to seek a long-term relationship without bringing any of that negativity with him. This town was his new home, his new start. Running into Elisa wouldn’t change that. She came out from behind the desk. “Well, some women make unnecessary appointments and waste everyone’s time. Justin finds it pretty annoying and I’m sure you will too, but it’s just something you’ll have to deal with. The more you flirt, the more money the clinic makes.” At last, she offered a smile—a small one, but enough to let him know she was joking. He was thankful for that. A reputation as the town gigolo wouldn’t do him any favors when it came to dating, and he wanted something more meaningful than a fling. “And what about you?” he asked. “Do the male residents line up to have you treat their pets?” “Nope. I won’t be here soon. I have plans.” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re leaving your clients?” Elisa fell silent. Possibly he had pushed for too much information from a woman he hadn’t seen in years, but words used to come easily between them. A
bit of awkwardness, he could understand. Her treating him like a complete stranger, though, was odd. “I’m not a doctor,” she finally answered. “I’m helping out my brother. I decided this isn’t the business for me, so I’m finishing school right now and—” She stopped then clapped her hands. “But who wants to hear about that? Finish your paperwork and then I’ll show you around. Justin should be here soon.” She avoided his eyes and talked business while she bustled around her desk. She’d mentioned something about school…and that she’d lost interest in her dream of becoming a vet. His mood soured. He could guess what had thrown her off track. Hoping for the whole story, Liam feigned casual interest. “What are you studying?” She handed him a pen and directed him to the row of blue chairs that lined one wall of the waiting room. “Public relations.” Swallowing his disbelief, he scrawled his personal data across the top of the first form and waited for her to continue. She’d always talked about being involved in people’s lives, immersed in hands-on experience. Why in the world would she choose something so…corporate? His ears met silence. She wasn’t going to give him an inch. He pressed on. “That sounds interesting. Where would you like to work?” “I’ve gotten some interest from a software company in Nashville.” Elisa’s face twisted, and she snatched the forms from his hands. “You can finish this paperwork later. Let me show you around this place so we can both get to work.” Tossing the clipboard onto her desk as she passed, she stalked into the back of the clinic. Liam followed her, not keen to cause problems during his first hour on the job. “Did I say something wrong?”
She stopped inside a doorway. “I don’t want to talk about my plans. I want us to…just work today, okay?” In other words, let’s pretend we never knew each other. Apparently, it was the theme of the day. If he’d entertained any hope that over the years she might have come to value him more than she used to, he could go ahead and forget it. His role in her life remained that of sidekick—nice guy, reliable pal. Oh well. He had spent enough time picking up the pieces each time her arrogant ex broke her heart. If she still went for that type of guy, it wasn’t Liam’s business or problem. Elisa’s gaze dropped when he met her eyes, as if she knew what he was thinking.
He’s the one problem she can’t solve.
Best Man, Worst Man © 2011 Stacy Gail
From hysterical bridezillas to grooms with sub-zero feet, renowned wedding planner Claire Pomeroy has never met a disaster she couldn’t handle. Then she runs afoul of her client’s not-so-best man, a devilishly flirtatious rogue with a killer smile and a chest as solid as a concrete roadblock. Yet their sparks of attraction only highlight his obvious quest—to make sure this wedding knot never gets tied. Confirmed bachelor Ryder Price knows one unshakable truth: marriage is nothing but a fairy tale. No way is he going to stand idly by while his wingman face-plants into the dreaded marital trap. But there’s a problem. A dark-eyed, dangerously curvaceous problem who’s bound and determined to pull this wedding off. As her suddenly skittish clients teeter on the edge of cancellation, Claire challenges her nemesis to imagine long-term as something more than a quickie and a vague promise to call. Ryder counters with a challenge of his own. Let him give her a taste of just how fulfilling a little no-strings-attached passion can be. Warning: This product contains cold feet, heavy petting, heavier breathing, and chocolate-covered fingers. To avoid a sweet-tooth side-effect, the author recommends having a chocolate-covered man nearby. Enjoy the following excerpt for Best Man, Worst Man: Having Ryder around wasn’t as horrific as she’d imagined, Claire decided an hour later as she wrapped up an initial consult with new clients looking to organize a late-summer wedding. He hadn’t gotten in her way, or scoffed over
her new clients’ dream wedding—a Southfork Ranch ceremony that would be the exact recreation of Lucy’s wedding on the old 80s TV show, Dallas. Nor had he made any smartass run for it comments as she’d half-feared he would when the groom had wanted a detailed explanation of the ceremony cancellation fee. Instead, Ryder had wandered away to disappear into the myriad display rooms she had in back that housed the portrait gallery and studio a photographer sublet from her, floral arrangements and a small boutique of her own designs. When the happy couple finally left with a packet of information in hand and their signatures drying on the contract, Claire left Mari to tackle the booking of Southfork Ranch in Dallas while she went in search of Ryder. Her acrobatic heart twisted itself into a pretzel when she found him in the display room appropriately named Wedding Night, a richly carpeted room decorated in crimson red and displaying her more intimate lingerie collection. Naturally. Where else would a man like Ryder be? “I wasn’t kidding when I said you’ll need running shoes to keep up with me,” she said, doing her best to sound unaffected as he idly browsed through the delicate wisps of silk and lace. “Mari and I have to be downtown in half an hour, so if you’re still intent on tagging along…” “‘Claire’s Creations’,” he read off the label. Selecting a barely there chiffon baby-doll, bra and thong set, he held it up. “Your designs?” “Of course. French lace,” she added, coming closer to run her fingers down the fragile detailing. “Thai silk in every conceivable color. If you’re looking for polyester, you won’t find it here. Do you like it?” “I think you know the answer to that.” Putting the set back on the rack, he turned his attention to a zebra-striped demi-bra. “But I am surprised. Don’t you find this a little hypocritical?” “What do you mean?”
“I mean, this whole room is dedicated to one thing and one thing only— sex.” His gaze flicked unexpectedly to her, and she found herself held hostage by that one smoldering look. “And not just any kind of sex. It’s dedicated to the nosheets and lights-on, falling-off-the-bed-and-onto-the-floor, hot-and-sweatygrinding sex, Claire. That’s what’s in this room. Yet last night you tried to spin it like sex wasn’t important when it came to the lifetime commitment of marriage.” “Your mind works in mysterious ways.” Claire congratulated herself for sounding unmoved when his words painted a thoroughly inappropriate—but utterly delightful—mental image of them together, two sweat-slick bodies straining hard against each other as they drove in mindless harmony toward the heady rush of ecstasy… She sucked in a sharp breath and tried to remember what it was to be a professional. “I never once said sex wasn’t important.” His light eyes darkened. Burned. “You implied it.” “Like I’ve pointed out before, you don’t really know women. And you definitely don’t know me.” “Convince me, then.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, the swell of her breasts, before slowly sliding back up. And every place he looked, she felt the delicious heat of ravishment. “Convince me you believe sex is important.” Damn him for toying with her, she thought with uncharacteristic savagery. And damn her for not being able to just leave well enough alone. “Sex,” she gritted from between clenched teeth, all the while wrestling with the sense that he was playing her like a violin, “is vital to a healthy marriage, as is chemistry, imagination, seduction, trust and love. When you combine sex with those components, not even a dozen lifetimes together would burn that passion out.”
“You think?” As if he were only vaguely paying attention, he turned to an open antique armoire displaying chocolates from her new chocolatier, including jars of edible body paint. “Have you ever been married, Claire?” “No. But when I do find the right man we’ll be together forever.” “There is no such thing as forever.” “Then I’ll make him wish there were,” she shot back, suddenly and irrationally furious Ryder would never be the sort of man she dreamed of. “When I find the man who’s destined to be my husband you can be damn sure he’ll know just how lucky he is to have me by his side during the day and warming his bed at night. When he needs someone to talk to, I’ll listen and I’ll support no matter what. When he feels like the world is closing in, I will be his safe harbor. When he needs someone to hold, I’ll be no more than an arm’s reach away. I’ll be his best friend and closest confidante, and when it comes to sex, just look around you,” she invited with an angry sweep of her hand. “Every last detail in this room came from the most intimate side of who I really am, so I’ll let you judge if the man I choose would be happy to spend forever with me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to get back to. You can do whatever the hell you want.” “Not so fast.” Before she had taken one step, his fingers were around her wrist like a living shackle. She didn’t have to tug against it to know it was unbreakable. “You can’t just leave after saying I can do whatever I want.” Confusion brought her brows together before her eyes widened. “Ryder— ” “You’ve never said my name before today,” he went on, talking over her until she stopped. Lifting his free hand, he traced a slow, exploring finger along the edge of her lower lip before coming to rest at the corner of her mouth. “I can’t believe how much I like to hear it coming from your lips. Say my name, Claire.”
How could this horribly incompatible man melt her from the inside out? Where in the world was her backbone? “I’m too busy for this.” “That’s not my name.” He bent to where his finger rested, replacing it with the alluring brush of his lips, a butterfly-light touch that made her turn toward him on instinct. But his mouth slid away like a dream, gliding a gentle caress along the smooth warmth of her cheek, all the way to her ear. “Say it.” The voice of caution whispered through her even as her traitorous bones threatened imminent meltdown. She should step away while she could still think, she knew that. Ryder Price was a fabulous male specimen, the kind of man who could trip the trigger of any female with a pulse. But in no conceivable way was he her type. He would never be her type, and to mess with him now was stupid. It was masochistic and pointless. It was…it was… Delicious. But really, she had to step away from him. And she would. Any minute now. “Claire.” Teasing, as light as a whisper, his lips feathered over her ear before they closed on the lobe, the wet suction of his mouth so delightful it made her eyes drift shut. “Say my name. Say it, or I’ll make you say it.” Step away. Step away. His tongue toyed with the lobe held with exquisite gentleness between his teeth before he moved on, his mouth sliding farther down her neck. Her breath caught in the heavy stillness, a fractured sound of arousal she had no hope of containing. A faint tremor shook him in response, and his teeth sank into the throbbing cord at her neck, his tongue drawing hungry little whorls over her heated flesh. Step…
At some point he had let her wrist go. Claire never noticed, instead bracing her hands on his slim hips as her knees liquefied like warm honey. Her breasts brushed against his muscle-padded torso, and the contact was like being stroked with a live wire. She shivered, a soundless breath escaping her even as she rubbed against him once more to revel in the exquisite tightening of her nipples. Closer.
