Another Woman's Son (Harlequin Romance) Page 10

  Isabel parked in front of Ben’s garage and got out, her muscles sore from packing and the tension of worrying and arguing with Ben.

  As soon as she shut her car door, she heard Tony shrieking with joy in the backyard. Just the sound of his voice changed everything. His happiness warmed her even in new falling snow. She headed for the gate, drawn by his careening-down-the-slide laugh.

  Her father stood guard from behind the slide. Too far away. She hurried toward her nephew.

  “Dad, we always help him with the ladder,” she said.

  “Sorry, honey.” Grief still gave him a tendency to look stunned. “I didn’t think.”

  Isabel loved her father, who was wounded but carrying on as best he could.

  “Iz-bell!”

  “Tony!” She opened her arms and he flew at her. She caught him in midair and then swung him until they faced his grandfather.

  Tony wriggled down and then bolted for the slide. George leaned over to help this time, but Tony pushed his hands away as he climbed.

  “He knows how,” George said.

  “Yes, he’s much better.” She stayed on the lookout, not as sanguine as her dad about his physical prowess. “But he’s still small.”

  “You haven’t seen him for the past three months,” her father said. “I’m not sure your mom and I have, either.”

  “None of us could know what would happen, Dad.”

  “I talked to Faith a few times. She thought you were angry with her.”

  Nice cover, Faith. “She sided with Will in our problems.” That was as close as she could get to the truth. If she said any more, her father might tumble into the whole mystery.

  “Why would Faith let you down like that? You were always close. Boys didn’t come between you. Other friends never split you up.”

  Tony ran around the slide, shouting as he clambered up again. Tears, unexpected and hot, stung Isabel’s eyes. Love had changed her sister. “Don’t worry, Dad. Faith and I disagreed. Let’s drop it there.”

  “I’d rather know what you both kept from me.”

  Who knew her first challenge would come so simply? “It was private, Dad, like my problems with Will.” She dared not look at him. “I’m covered in dirt and need a shower. Do you want me to take Tony inside?”

  “No.” He disapproved of her desire for privacy. If only he knew the agony of the past three months. Thank God she’d never have to admit that, either.

  She squeezed his arm, afraid to get close enough for him to hold her. She had to go inside before she out-and-out lied to her own dad.

  “Iz-bell.” Tony ran to her.

  She hugged him against her legs but then pointed him toward her father. “Grandpa says you can slide with him.”

  Tony looked at his grandpa, who smiled. But George was so sad his smile seemed scary even to Isabel.

  “Dad, really, it’s nothing. Faith and I were friends as well as sisters. You know how it is with divorce. Sometimes friends choose sides.”

  “She wouldn’t side against her own sister.” His tone asked, What did you do?

  He didn’t ask out loud, and she couldn’t explain, not without tarnishing her sister’s reputation, or saying the one thing that would blow Tony and Ben’s life to bits.

  “It was trivial, Dad.” She’d done it now, an outright falsehood. Tony whimpered, apparently catching her anxiety. “It’s all right.” She guided him toward her dad.

  He tore away from her and ran back to the ladder and started to climb again. Frowning, her father went back to his station behind his grandson. “Why do you suppose he doesn’t know your mother and me? I mean, we had a good time at the museums today, but when he got tired he started asking for the four of you.”

  “We were in and out of each other’s houses all the time. Tony hasn’t seen you as often as he saw me.”

  “It makes me feel funny,” her father said. “I want him to love me as much as his mother did.”

  “He just has to get used to you.” Which he would eventually do, if he lived with her mom and dad.

  TRIVIAL. It almost made her cry as she scurried through the house, afraid of stumbling across another human. She’d actually managed to call Faith’s infidelity with Will trivial. Where had she found the words? She longed to turn to her parents for comfort, but she couldn’t without hurting their memories of her sister.

  Upstairs, Isabel shucked off her clothes and climbed into the shower. She braced her hands against the tile and let water beat on her face and her head.

  Here, she could cry without feeling weak, without troubling anyone else, without making anyone ask her what had gone wrong between her sister and her.

  She’d never felt so alone, and she saw no relief in sight, with Ben ready to break all contact if she admitted what she knew about his son. And yet what could assuage her parents’ sorrow for their older daughter more than the news that they alone had more right to him than their son-in-law?

  She couldn’t do it—couldn’t betray Ben—couldn’t ruin Tony’s life. Not even for her parents.

  After her shower the noises and scents of supper cooking drifted to her while she dressed. Her mom must have tried pot roast.

  Isabel had worked hard. She was hungry enough to eat a good meal, but she’d never needed more time alone. She wasn’t used to guarding every word she said.

  A knock on her door startled her. “Come in,” she said, bundling her dirty clothes into the basket Faith had so thoughtfully provided in her guest bath.

  “What’s up?”

  Ben.

  “This is getting to be a habit. Did you tell my parents you were coming up here?”

  “Your mom sent me to bring you down before her pot roast dries out.”

  She laughed with relief at her mother acting normal. “Let me comb my hair. Has Dad brought Tony in?”

  “They’re sharing a hot chocolate.” He shut the door. “Your father said to leave you alone. He seemed to think you were upset.”

  She eased a comb through her hair. “He asked me about Faith.” The comb caught on a wet tangle, giving her an excuse to concentrate on it rather than Ben. “I had to lie.”

  “About?”

  “Faith told him I was angry with her. Do you believe that? I was angry with her?”

  “I believe. She and Will got used to covering their tracks. Nothing would have stopped them by the end.”

  “Yeah, I don’t want to be like that.”

  “I’m afraid you couldn’t be.” He shook his head. Naturally, it would be easier for him if she was at home with lying. “I wonder if they really loved each other.”

  “The way they couldn’t love you and me?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe when it’s real, you’ll do anything to be with the other person.”

  “They weren’t even faithful to each other.” She assumed Faith had still slept with Ben, though she’d chop off her own tongue before she’d ask. “Why not just beat ourselves with baseball bats? I’ve had it with Faith and Will. I don’t want to talk about them.” She slammed the comb on the bathroom counter and turned, shaking back her hair. “To tell you the truth, I’m just pissed because I still wonder what’s wrong with me.”

  Ben looked her up and down. He’d better not be finding flaws, too. “Wrong with you?” he asked, his voice strangely hoarse.

  “My own husband didn’t want me.” Her anger disintegrated, and she nearly cried again.

  “Forget him.” Ben took her in his arms. He pressed his lips to her hair, and instantly everything felt different.

  Ben surrounded her with safety. His scent made her dizzy. She stared at his skin, smooth but masculine, his strong throat, pale from the winter sun, pulsing with life’s blood. Pulsing too fast.

  “Ben?” She tipped her head back to look into his face, but he tried to twist his head away. “Ben?”

  Holding her hand against his cheek, she made him look at her. His mouth, strong and straight and so true, was not for her.

  “Wh
y should I forget about Will?”

  “Isabel, stop.” He tried to push her away, but she held on. She’d backed away from Will at the first sign of rejection. He’d trained her well for living with a man who loved elsewhere. But maybe some man could want her? The question whispered in her mind. Was she really so unlovable?

  “Kiss me, Ben.” She put her need into words. “We can’t hurt anyone.”

  “We hurt each other every day. And there’s Tony.”

  She watched his pulse jerk a few seconds more. He grabbed her wrists and tried to push her away. She didn’t struggle, but he must have seen her distress.

  “I won’t play second string to Will anymore.” He rubbed his knuckles on his cheek where she’d touched him. “Especially not for you.”

  “What did Faith have that I lack?” The words, out loud—how had she asked them out loud?—mortified her. She turned her back on Ben. Once again she’d thrown herself at a man who couldn’t want her. “My God. I’m sorry. You loved her. She was your son’s mother—and my sister. I’m sorry.”

  He turned her. She closed her eyes, too ashamed to look at him, but his arms went around her, roughly, as if he couldn’t help himself. When she looked, he was leaning down.

  With urgency she’d never known, Isabel met his mouth. She opened to him, baring her pain and loneliness. His husky groan made her legs tremble. She basked in the heat that fed on itself, a living fire.

  He flattened his palms on each side of her head and twisted her face so that he could kiss her again and again and again until she was dizzy and moaning into his mouth, pliant, aching, willing to break any vow, destroy any promise for more of him.

  This fire could destroy Ben and her and a friendship she’d cherished for more than a decade.

  She grasped his wrists and stopped him. He stumbled back. Books talked about women who looked as if they’d been kissed. Ben looked kissed. Desire tightened his face, tempting her.

  “I don’t know when I started wanting to do that.” His voice belonged to a stranger. She’d never heard sexual need in Ben’s tone—because he’d belonged to her sister. “Isabel, do you want me to apologize?”

  “No.” She linked her fingers with his, terribly aware of the door at her back and her parents downstairs with his son. “You’re not Will’s second anything. I wanted you—not because of him.”

  His breathing remained harsh. “That’s what I was trying to show you, that needing to touch you had nothing to do with Faith.”

  The enormity of what they’d just done shook them both. “You were still married to Faith before she died. It’s too soon to know what you want.”

  “Our sex life had been sporadic for years. She probably felt she was being unfaithful to Will.”

  She knew all about living in that kind of wasteland. She hurt for him, but she had to protect herself, too. Neither of them was young enough or healthy enough to pretend this meant more than it did. She felt herself blushing. “We might both be desperate for a little satisfaction.”

  His smile stopped her, all male, laughing at her, but his need still disturbing. “So much for not letting Will stop you from trusting.”

  “I don’t trust rebound attraction. I’m not asking you never to touch me again, but I have to know you’re holding me, not getting back at Faith.”

  Pain flared across his face, but then he kissed her again, a blessing, mouth to mouth. A promise of pleasure and peace.

  Strange. She’d never wanted peace in a man’s arms.

  “Isabel,” he said as he lifted his head.

  “We need distance and time to think.” She staggered, but the direction she took, away from Ben, was wise.

  From three feet away, his body exerted a hold on her. His shoulders, tense, his legs parted as if he were on guard. With his troubled, turbulent expression, he looked like a man who wanted a woman. He wanted her. “Do I sound confused?”

  She shook her head, unhappy and yet alive. Blood-pumping, heart-thumping, restless-and-desperate-for-Ben’s-touch alive. “I know your secrets and you know mine. I’m relieved I still feel desire for anyone, and knowing you need me, too, is a gift.” She tried to smile. “But you have to be confused.”

  “You’re used to living with Will.” He turned and left. But he didn’t go downstairs. The door to his room closed softly.

  Isabel wrapped her arms around her bedpost. He couldn’t face her parents yet, either.

  BEN WAITED outside the bathroom where his son was splashing, fit to flood the house. After dinner, Ben had gone outside to shovel the driveway and work Isabel out of his system. Coming upstairs after he’d finished, he’d recognized the sounds of Tony bathing, but he wasn’t sure who was helping his son.

  He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, trying to feel normal again. How did a man force himself to feel normal?

  He shoved the door open. Across alternating squares of black-and-white tile, Amelia looked up from the side of the wide, round tub. Tony scooped up bubbles in a foam dump truck and offered them.

  Laughing came easy after all. “Isn’t that water getting cold yet?” All big smiles and no worries, he knelt beside Amelia on the towel beside the tub.

  “We’ve warmed it a couple of times,” she said. “Is Isabel all right?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her.” He squeezed out his son’s favorite airplane sponge to fly it around the boy’s head. “Did you think something was wrong at dinner?”

  “I thought you had something on your mind, too.”

  “I know how she feels. We’ve both lost a spouse.”

  “What happened between her and Will?”

  Before he could answer, Tony squirted them both with the sponge. Ben poured a bucket of water over his son’s shoulder and Tony crowed with joy.

  “You won’t tell me?”

  “Even if I knew—” he suddenly shared Isabel’s reluctance for lying to her mom “—it’s none of my business. You should ask Isabel.”

  “We haven’t talked about personal matters for a long time. You and Will and our girls were a self-contained unit, and none of you needed anyone else.” She pushed soap bubbles off her arm, into the tub. “Leah thought so, too. She called me once to talk about it.”

  Leah and Amelia had talked? He nearly fell into the tub. “I didn’t realize you were friends.”

  “We both missed our children. Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you had each other, but my daughters both changed after they married.”

  “Trust me,” he said, wary as she came too close to the truth, “no one makes up for real family.”

  “I’m sorry, Ben. I’m so focused on my own troubles I forgot your parents had died.”

  Soon after he and Faith were married, when carbon monoxide had leaked into their town house. He never talked about it.

  Nodding at Amelia, he flew the plane again and landed it on his son’s shoulder. Tony dunked it, and then he started loading it with anything that would float on top of it.

  “Where do you think Will and Faith were going?” Amelia asked.

  She must be recovering from her grief. In shock, she’d asked no questions. Fortunately, Isabel had already prepared him for this conversation.

  “Faith didn’t call me or leave a note. I assumed she was heading out to visit you. She did that sometimes, and then she’d call me along the way.”

  “With Will?” He couldn’t mistake her eagerness as she leaned forward.

  “If he had a business trip in the area. Remember that time he drove her and Tony to Pittsburgh and she caught the train from there?”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s what I thought. It makes sense.”

  Only if you were really motivated to believe in Faith. For the first time, Ben took some of Amelia’s sadness on himself. He might have to be cruel to protect his son, but Amelia had lost her older child already. He felt empathy. He hugged her, holding his wet hand away from her shoulder.

  Tony pushed the plane and all its passengers under the water, finished for
the night. With a yawn, he lifted both arms, and Ben pulled a towel off the warming rack. He scooped him out of the tub. “I’ll finish here, Amelia. You should rest. This house and our meals aren’t your responsibility.”

  “I like being useful.” She kissed Tony’s forehead. “Maybe having all of us here comforts him when he’s missing Faith.”

  Guilt covered Ben like the chilling water in his son’s tub. “Soon he’ll have to make do with only his old dad,” Ben said. “I’m all he’ll have.”

  Amelia’s frown worked beneath his skin like a splinter. “He’ll always have his grandpa and me and his aunt Isabel, too. We all have to keep his memories of his mom alive for him.”

  Ben couldn’t seem to move. He pressed his cheek to Tony’s head, and his son burrowed into his chest, full, clean and ready to sleep. Amelia eyed him oddly. He must look as if he’d swallowed that airplane sponge. At last, she tucked the towel closer around Tony and left. Ben began to breathe again.

  She’d be more unhappy if she knew Faith had really been running away with Will, apparently on some crazy faux honeymoon. This time, it was kinder not to explain.

  “Mommy?” Tony asked, as if he sensed sharpness in the air. “Iz-bell?”

  “You’re stuck with me, buddy.” Ben produced his best grin and quickly dressed Tony in pajamas. “Want to read a story?”

  “Tain.” Tony owned just about every picture book ever written about trains. At bedtime he listened to any of them as if he’d never heard the story before.

  Ben sat in a cushion-strewn rocker, cuddling his son and a SpongeBob pillow. Tony opened the book and pointed at the trains, chattering his own story. Ben tossed a couple of the cushions on the floor and then rested his chin on his son’s head, agreeing whenever Tony stopped to wait for an answer.

  Their nightly ritual comforted him as much as his son. At last, Tony turned back to the first page and nudged Ben. His turn. Reading, he almost forgot everything except the boy in his arms.

  Almost. Amelia’s wan face, and her curiosity about Faith’s last day, stuck with him.