Words From The Heart (Spring-Summer Romance Book 2) (8 page)

Bennett’s stating his feelings relieved the tension she’d felt for the last few weeks. It was one thing to be conscious of his thoughts, but his not speaking them was the purest torture. She must’ve replayed his erotic taste of her breast a thousand times, with each one, trying to convince herself it’d meant more than simply a need for sex. He needed sex. For that matter, so did she, and what he’d done in the office had proven that to them both. But his words afterward had given his intent.

He’d not made any similar moves since then nor sought her out when she was with June. She admired his restraint, that, in spite of what they now knew both of them were hungry for, he waited for it to be right, to have meaning.

She couldn’t dwell there though. She had to concentrate on Jeff. Kindergarten would be good for him, but in light of his attachment to Bennett, it’d be difficult to convince him. She’d grown to love that little boy. He was in so many ways Bennett’s twin, demanding at times, but in his heart, gentle, and, of course, sensitive to change.

They agreed to talk to him together sometime over the weekend. In the end, it took them until Sunday night. August and June put to bed, she and Bennett entered Jeff’s room together.

“Hey, there …” Audrey took a seat on the side of his bed. “Your dad and I needed to talk to you.”

She smoothed his hair back from his brow. He acted like Bennett, but so much of him was his mom, and thinking of that clogged her throat.

“You’re a big boy now. Remind me how old?”

Jeff held up his hand, five fingers spread wide.

“Five, that’s right. And being five means you have to do what big boys do. You get to go to school with boys and girls your age, make new friends …”

Jeff’s eyes spread wide, and he glanced from her to Bennett and back.

Bennett, his hands stuffed in his pockets, pulled them out and knelt. “It’s only for a few hours each day. Audrey and I will take you there and pick you up. It’ll be fun.”

But Jeff wasn’t convinced. His eyes welled with tears and leaping from beneath the covers, he threw himself at his dad. “I don’ wanna go away like Mommy …”

Audrey’s eyes moistened, and she tossed one hand to her lips.

Bennett wrapped his arms around his son and stood, one hand on the back of the boy’s head. “Not like Mommy,” he replied. “Like big boys do, and you come home in the afternoons. You sleep in your bed. You’ll see me and June and August and Audrey.”

There was no consoling him, however, and the time passing, Bennett took a seat on the bed. “You and I will rest right here for a while. I promise it’s all okay, everything’s safe.” He cast her a glance, his brow furrowed, and giving a nod, Audrey reversed and left them alone.

They’d have to work it out.

She worried, the hours crawling by, that they wouldn’t, however. But just after ten, Bennett showed up in the door of her room. He leaned his shoulder on the door frame. “That went as badly as I planned.”

Audrey frowned. “He associates leaving with losing his mom. Once he meets the teacher, sees the classroom, I think he’ll be fine.”

“Until then, I’m evil.”

She stood from the bed and walked up in front of him. “I could convince you otherwise.”

Light sparked in his eyes, and his mouth quirked. “Just how are you going to do that?”

Taking his wrist, she tugged him further inside the room and shut the door. Wresting his shirt from his pants, she unfastened the buttons.

He watched her amused, cooperating when she shifted his arms to take it off.

She dropped it in the floor at their feet, and raising his undershirt high on his chest, bent her mouth to the center. His skin was musky, his muscles firm and salty on her tongue.

His hand fell to her head, cupping it, he turned her face upward. “That’s a dangerous game you play.”

In response, in one motion, she removed her shirt. He stared, his hand shifting to trace her curves, over her hips and the dip of her waist, then along the length of her arm. At her shoulder, he dusted her bra straps downward, and they slipped over her shoulder, her breasts tumbling free.

He grew hard against her, grinding into her, and closing her eyes, she tossed her head back and reveled in it. Months and months alone, telling herself she was no good to anyone. She’d failed as a wife, struggled as a mother. Though she’d overcome the last thought over time, the former had clung tight, taking away her belief in herself as a woman as well.

Yet here was a man eager to experience all of that.

The button of her shorts popped free at the tap of his thumb, and Bennett worked his fingers beneath the fabric, his fingertips moistening in contact with her heat. With gentle strokes, he heightened her pleasure, until her mind, white hot, her body shaking, she reached her peak.

“I always win,” he said, his voice deep.

And he had once more. She crashed, held tight against him, her cries muffled by the warm expanse of his chest.

He left Audrey dozing and took a long hot shower. Strangely, though, lying in bed afterward, the TV flickering light on the ceiling, his mind turned back to Beth.

Why after satisfying Audrey did his mind go there? His love for his wife hadn’t diminished nor had the ache which her absence left, but, he found, these three months had eased the pain of it and Audrey had a lot to do with that. She was a distraction, an appealing one, as well as the steady influence the household needed. She was always forgiving, always generous, and being truthful, going there with her, seeing her so enraptured, was as much about proving that to her as it was any indulgence he got out of it.

Looking at things from another angle, he’d let go of Beth months before she died. He’d hoped she wouldn’t, then denied she had, but his grip on her had started to slip not too long after finding out the cancer had returned. What seemed soon to others wasn’t really.

He’d probably never totally get over Beth, but he had to find a way to stand tall and be a father, a man again, or everything around him would stop making sense. And he’d been at that point already and stayed there too long – with June crying nonstop, Jeff begging to sleep with him at night.

Until a beautiful woman named Audrey walked into their lives.

CHAPTER 8

Voices leaked out the open doorway, echoing in the hallway alongside other parents going in and out of different classrooms. Hearing the sound, Audrey took Jeff’s hand, suddenly more nervous than she wanted to admit. “You, me, and your dad are going to meet the teacher together,” she said, cheerfully.

Her tone belied the truth, however. This little boy couldn’t be more hers than August or June right then, and this moment a critical step toward both his growing up and his healing from his mom’s death. That, in itself, made her antsy about the visit.

What if she said the wrong thing? Gave the wrong impression?

What if she’d brought the younger ones? Gratitude rushed through her at her parents’ perception. They’d insisted on babysitting August and June, and she could see now that balancing both babies would’ve been too much.

Jeff twisted his gaze upward to see Bennett.

Bennett laid one hand on his head. “It’ll be all right, sport. Remember, you don’t have to stay today, just say
hello
.” He sounded way more settled than she was.

Audrey tightened her grip on Jeff’s hand and stepped inside the door.

The room was well-organized, desks in straight rows, toys separated in large plastic bins. Everything was labeled and spotlessly clean. The teacher, an older woman with short, gray hair, knelt, speaking sweetly to a little girl with blonde pigtails. The girl nodded, then the teacher reached in her pocket and pulled out a lollipop.

She stood, shaking hands with the girl’s parents, then transferred her gaze to them. Jeff crawled behind Audrey’s legs, hiding his face.

“Well, now …” the teacher said, “somewhere there’s a little boy. I saw him a minute ago.” She pretended to search for him, her hands on her hips.

Bennett gripped Jeff’s shoulder and tugged him out from his hiding place.

“There he is,” the teacher said. Her smile, already wide, seemed to stretch further. “I’m Mrs. Werthe.” After giving her name to Jeff, she glanced from Audrey to Bennett.

“Bennett Adams,” he said, “my son, Jeff, and that’s Audrey.”

“Audrey Ferguson.” She glanced toward Bennett. “Why don’t you take him over to see the toys?”

They’d talked about this. She wanted to explain things out of Jeff’s hearing. It was important the teacher know what he’d been through and her relationship to the family, but relating it in front of Jeff would be extremely insensitive.

“Hey … I see trucks,” Bennett said. He steered his son out of hearing range.

Audrey watched to see that they were busy before facing the teacher again.

“I see you love him,” Mrs. Werthe remarked.

“Jeff’s a sweet boy.”

A knowing look settled on the teacher’s face. “Not to pry, but I was talking about his father.”

Audrey started, all her preplanned words scattering in the wind.

“And I didn’t mean to throw you off,” Mrs. Werthe continued, “but I’ve been doing this a long time and have seen many kinds of families. I have the feeling that yours isn’t what people expect. Just the same, the love you share is clear, and that will help Jeff when he comes to class.”

“I … I mean, we … Bennett and I …” Audrey stumbled to respond.

Mrs. Werthe chuckled. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Whatever you both have going, it looks good on you, and you have my sincere promise that the boy’s in good hands.”

Audrey swallowed around the lump in her throat. “J-Jeff,” she stuttered. “His mom died, and he’s … he’s …”

“Afraid. But he has you and his dad, and school will be good for him.”

“I … said that,” Audrey replied. “But I feel so nervous.”

Mrs. Werthe gave no reply, but her compassionate expression did much to help Audrey’s confidence. She motioned toward Bennett and Jeff. “Let’s include them in the conversation.”

Later, that night, after the children had gone to bed, Audrey sought out Bennett. They’d left school in good spirits, distracting Jeff with talk about spending time with her dad. When they’d arrived at her parents’ place, it’d felt odd to be discussing kindergarten. But even odder was the knowledge, at the forefront of her mind, that she and Bennett had grown so close.

That sobered her as the afternoon progressed. There hadn’t been any time for her and Bennett to talk, and now one thing in particular prodded her mind.

Audrey rounded the bottom of the stairs and spotted Bennett reclined on the couch, the TV remote on his chest. Crossing the distance, she took a seat on the coffee table, directly in his view. His gaze raked her, as it did a lot, weighted on intimate places, and hers fell to where his fingers curved over the cushion.

“Mrs. Werthe knew all about us without me having to say anything … about me and you, and what Jeff was feeling.” She forced her gaze upward. “Bennett, I shouldn’t ask, but is there a ‘me and you’?”

He gazed back unblinking, then sat up. Reaching for her, he pulled her into his lap. “I said there was. You doubt it now?”

“What you’ve given me …” she replied. “Cale …”

“Was a fool. I told you that.”

She inhaled. “Yes, but … I’m messing this up. I honestly didn’t come here to disrupt your lives.”

“You haven’t.”

Audrey bit the inside of her lip, kneading the tender flesh, then released it. “My point is, that wasn’t my intent. I had noble ideals, to help June, to stand on my own two feet, and chemistry set aside …”

“Hard to set that aside.”

She offered him a weak smile. “I promise to pick it back up again, but let me get this out.”

He waved her on, and she gathered her courage.

“I’ve never tried to take your wife’s place.”

“I haven’t complained about that. Have I?”

She shook her head. “No, but I don’t want to take her place. I want my own place, if it’s as Jeff and June’s nanny, then I need to know. I caved to Cale all the time. He’d demand something, and I’d give in, always wondering afterward if I meant anything to him at all. I can’t go through that anymore. I remember what you said, that you weren’t trying to replace her and, honestly, I’m not jealous of that at all. I guess what I want to know is if there’s room for me
and
her … here, in this house, with your children, with you. And if there’s room for August in the midst of all that. I see you with him. I heard him call you ‘dad’.”

“He was imitating Jeff.”

She nodded. “I know that, but …”

Bennett laid a finger on her lips. “Let me make this
very
clear. When we met, I was a wreck. I admit I was confused, struggling between memories of Beth and images of you. I got up that first night when June cried and ran to her room, only to stand there and watch you hold her …”

Audrey’s cheeks warmed.

“You are a good mother. You saved my daughter; you rescued my little boy. But you, Audrey Ferguson, are a wonderful woman. Had you asked me that night if there was room for you, I would have said
no
. Now, I know there is.”

“Am I the nanny, Bennett?”

He stared at her for the longest time, unspeaking, then stood from the couch, hauling her up at his side. Taking her hand, he folded their fingers together and led her to the stairs. She trailed behind, climbing immediately on his heels, and followed him across the landing and down the hallway to her room.

Inside, he shut the door and moved them to the bed. He halted there, removing his shirt. Then lying down, he dragged her to his side. She folded against him on his left, her cheek on his chest, her legs tangled with his, and wrapped one arm across.

They warmed and their breaths evened; contentment pulled at her eyelids. But at the edge of sleep, he tipped her mouth to his. His kiss was sweet, his tongue tugging hers into a sensuous embrace.

“Not the nanny,” he whispered, tucking her against him.

Bennett remembered what it felt like to fall in love with Beth and found himself thinking of that often as time passed. Though this with Audrey was different, he was older and far more experienced, after all, he had that same heady rush and a need to be near her.

He couldn’t sleep alone any longer and took to sharing her space, always waiting until the kids were asleep and the house quiet to make his way to her room. June slept longer now, not waking to nurse until close to dawn, so he could escape then, take a shower and appear reasonably normal when the kids got up.

It worked until the first day of school. Jeff, nervous the night before, rose well before June, and crept into the master bedroom. Finding it empty, he called out, and Bennett, hastily dressing, slipped through the Jack-and-Jill bath to emerge out June’s nursery door.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, his voice husky.

Jeff spun in place, his eyes widened in surprise. “You weren’t there.”

Bennett’s throat thick, he coughed, covering his mouth with a curled fist. “I’m here now. You nervous?”

Jeff nodded.

“It’s going to be fine. I’ll take you to class, and Audrey will pick you up like we talked.”

“Bennett?” Audrey exited her room, her hair mussed, her cheeks reddened.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Jeff was worried about school. But we’re talking about it. Go lie down.”

She stood in place for a moment then returned to her room, the door clicking shut. Jeff stared up at his dad.

“Since we’re both up early,” Bennett said, distracting him, “you want some pancakes?”

At his son’s nod, he took his hand and they made their way downstairs. The predawn sky glowed bluish gray through the window, early morning dew moistening the panes.

“You can help me stir,” Bennett said, gathering a bowl and ingredients. From an upper cabinet, he dug out measuring cups and, from a drawer, a long-handled spoon.

Jeff climbed on a stool, leaning over the counter, propped on his elbows.

Bennett turned the pancake mix box toward the light, reading the instructions. Measuring the amount of mix suggested in the guide, he added the correct amount of water and slid the bowl to Jeff, poking the spoon into the middle. “Stir that up, and I’ll heat the pan.”

He slid a nonstick pan onto the glass burner and turned on the stove. “What do you say we make shapes? We can make one for everybody. What shape would you like?”

Pancake batter splashed out of the bowl onto the counter, and Bennett reached for the spoon, gripping it briefly. “Stir slower, son. We want to have something left to cook.” He transferred his hands back to the frying pan, spraying the surface with cooking spray.

“A rabbit,” Jeff said.

“One pancake rabbit coming up.”

“An’ make August a mouse.”

Again, Bennett agreed. “One mouse for August. What about Audrey? Should we make her something?”

“A flower.”

The heated pan in his grip, Bennett paused, his gaze on his son’s face. “I can do that,” he said softly. “Hey, listen …” He captured the bowl from Jeff. “That’s stirred perfectly. Why don’t you go in Daddy’s office and get a notepad and a pen. You can draw Audrey a nice picture.”

Jeff, without comment, hopped down from his stool and dashed out the far doorway. He returned minutes later, a yellow notepad in hand, and remounting the stool, poked a pen to the page. Bennett cooked the pancakes, one eye on his son’s intent face.

His gaze downward, the pen tight in his grip, Jeff made long strokes, his tongue working at the corner of his mouth.

The steaming pancakes lined up on the counter, minutes later, Bennett shut the stove off and made his way around behind his son. Leaning over the boy’s shoulder, he eyed the image Jeff had drawn, his throat tight. “Who’s that?” he asked, nodding at the drawing.

Jeff, his feet tucked beneath his bottom, tapped one finger on the image. “That’s you an’ me an’ August, an’ that’s Audrey an’ June.”

He’d drawn Bennett as the tallest person, holding Jeff’s hand on one side and August’s on the other. Audrey stood to their left, the baby, two small swirling circles, crosswise on her chest.

“And who’s that?” he asked, nodding at a sixth figure drawn above the others.

“That’s Mommy,” Jeff said. “She’s happy because we have Audrey.”