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For the Sake of Their Son
Catherine Mann








“You can’t be serious.”


“I’m completely serious.” Elliot’s fingers twisted in Lucy Ann’s ponytail.

“Let. Go. Now,” she said, barely able to keep herself from hauling him in for a kiss. “Sex will only complicate matters.”

“Or it could simplify things.” He released her hair slowly, his stroke tantalizing all the way down her arm.

“Lucy Ann?” His bourbon-smooth tones intoxicated her parched senses. “What are you thinking?”

“My aunt said the same thing about the bonus of friends becoming … more.”

He laughed softly, the heat of his breath broadcasting how close he’d moved to her. “Your aunt has always been a smart woman. Although, I sure as hell didn’t talk to her about you and I becoming lovers.”

“You need to quit saying things like that. You and I need boundaries for this to work.”

His gaze fell to her mouth for an instant that stretched to eternity. “We’ll have to agree to disagree.”

* * *

For the Sake of Their Son is part of The Alpha Brotherhood series: Bound by an oath to make amends, these billionaires can conquer anything … but love.


For the Sake

of Their Son

Catherine Mann






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


USA TODAY bestselling author CATHERINE MANN lives on a sunny Florida beach with her flyboy husband and their four children. With more than forty books in print in over twenty countries, she has also celebrated wins for both a RITA


Award and a Booksellers’ Best Award. Catherine enjoys chatting with readers online—thanks to the wonders of the internet, which allows her to network with her laptop by the water! Contact Catherine through her website, www.catherinemann.com, find her on Facebook and Twitter (@CatherineMann1) or reach her by snail mail at PO Box 6065, Navarre, FL 32566, USA.


For my children.


Contents

Chapter One (#uacdd3ee2-34d3-51b6-85a2-143b2fff32e7)

Chapter Two (#u57c219eb-72fc-5179-b553-ae2d56adae3f)

Chapter Three (#ud21c18b5-6c72-5fef-9ecb-488c97386e0d)

Chapter Four (#u8d15ae3d-5c19-5b5e-856b-e14b98d54240)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)


One

Elliot Starc had faced danger his whole life. First at the hands of his heavy-fisted father. Later as a Formula One race car driver who used his world travels to feed information to Interpol.

But he’d never expected to be kidnapped. Especially not in the middle of his best friend’s bachelor party.

Mad as hell, Elliot struggled back to consciousness, only to realize his wrists were cuffed. Numb. He struggled against the restraints while trying to get his bearings, but his brain was still disoriented. Last he remembered, he’d been in Atlanta, Georgia, at a bachelor party and now he was cuffed and blindfolded, for God’s sake. What the hell? He only knew that he was in the back of a vehicle that smelled of leather and luxury. Noise offered him little to go on. Just the purr of a finely tuned engine. The pop of an opening soda can. A low hum of music so faint it must be on a headset.

“He’s awake,” a deep voice whispered softly, too softly to be identified.

“Damn it,” another voice hissed.

“Hey,” Elliot shouted, except it wasn’t a shout. More of a hoarse croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Whatever the hell is going on here, we can talk ransom—”

A long buzz sounded. Unmistakable. The closing of a privacy window. Then silence. Solitude, no chance of shouting jack to anyone in this...

A limo, perhaps? Who kidnapped someone using a limousine?

Once they stopped, he would be ready, though. The second he could see, he wouldn’t even need his hands. He was trained in seven different forms of self-defense. He could use his feet, his shoulders and his body weight.

He would be damned before he let himself ever be helpless in a fight.

They’d pulled off an interstate at least twenty minutes ago, driving into the country as best he could tell. He had no way of judging north, south or west. He could be anywhere from Florida to Mississippi to South Carolina, and God knows he had enemies in every part of the world from his work with Interpol and his triumphs over competitors in the racing world.

And he had plenty of pissed-off ex-girlfriends.... He winced at the thought of females and Carolina so close together. Home. Too many memories. Bad ones—with just a single bright spot in the form of Lucy Ann Joyner, but he’d wrecked even that.

Crap.

Back to the present. Sunlight was just beginning to filter through the blindfold, sparking behind his eyes like shards of glinting glass.

One thing was certain. This car had good shock absorbers. Otherwise the rutted road they were traveling would have rattled his teeth.

Although his teeth were clenched mighty damn tight right now.

Even now, he still couldn’t figure out how he’d been blindsided near the end of Rowan Boothe’s bachelor party in an Atlanta casino. Elliot had ducked into the back to find a vintage Scotch. Before he could wrap his hand around the neck of the bottle, someone had knocked him out.

If only he knew the motive for his kidnapping. Was someone after his money? Or had someone uncovered his secret dealings with Interpol? If so, did they plan to exploit that connection?

He’d lived his life to the fullest, determined to do better than his wrong-side-of-the-tracks upbringing. He only had one regret: how his lifelong friendship with Lucy Ann had crashed and burned more fiercely than when he’d been sideswiped at the Australian Grand Prix last year—

The car jerked to a halt. He braced his feet to keep from rolling off onto the floor. He forced himself to stay relaxed so his abductors would think he was still asleep.

His muscles tensed for action, eager for the opportunity to confront his adversaries. Ready to pay back. He was trained from his work with Interpol, with lightning-fast instincts honed in his racing career. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Since he’d left his dirt-poor roots behind, he’d been beating the odds. He’d dodged juvie by landing in a military reform school where he’d connected with a lifelong group of friends. Misfits like himself who disdained rules while living by a strict code of justice. They’d grown up to take different life paths, but stayed connected through their friendship and freelance work for Interpol. Not that they’d been much help to him while someone was nabbing him a few feet away from the bachelor party they were all attending.

The car door opened and someone leaned over him. Something tugged at the back of his brain, a sense that he should know this person. He scrambled to untangle the mystery before it was too late.

His blindfold was tugged up and off, and he took in the inside of a black limo, just as he’d suspected. His abductors, however, were a total surprise.

“Hello, Elliot, my man,” said his old high school pal Malcolm Douglas, who’d asked him to fetch that bottle of Scotch back at the bachelor party. “Waking up okay?”

Conrad Hughes—another traitorous bastard friend—patted his face. “You look plenty awake to me.”

Elliot bit back a curse. He’d been kidnapped by his own comrades from the bachelor party. “Somebody want to tell me what’s going on here?”

He eyed Conrad and Malcolm, both of whom had been living it up with him at the casino well past midnight. Morning sunshine streamed over them, oak trees sprawling behind them. The scent of Carolina jasmine carried on the breeze. Why were they taking him on this strange road trip?

“Well?” he pressed again when neither of them answered. “What the hell are you two up to?” he asked, his anger barely contained. He wanted to kick their asses. “I hope you have a good reason for taking me out to the middle of nowhere.”

Conrad clapped him on the back. “You’ll see soon enough.”

Elliot angled out of the car, hard as hell with his hands cuffed in front of him. His loafers hit the dirt road, rocks and dust shifting under his feet as he stood in the middle of nowhere in a dense forest of pines and oaks. “You’ll tell me now or I’ll beat the crap out of both of you.”

Malcolm lounged against the side of the black stretch limo. “Good luck trying with your hands cuffed. Keep talking like that and we’ll hang on to the key for a good long while.”

“Ha—funny—not.” Elliot ground his teeth in frustration. “Isn’t it supposed to be the groom who gets pranked?”

Conrad grinned. “Oh, don’t worry. Rowan should be waking up and finding his new tattoo right about now.”

Extending his cuffed wrists, Elliot asked, “And the reason for this? I’m not the one getting married.”

Ever.

Malcolm pushed away, jerking his head to the side, gesturing toward the path leading into the dense cluster of more pine trees with an occasional magnolia reaching for the sun. “Instead of telling you why, we’ll just let you look. Walk with us.”

As if he had any choice. His friends clearly had some kind of game planned and they intended to see it through regardless. Sure, he’d been in a bear of a mood since his breakup with Gianna. Hell, even before that. Since Lucy Ann had quit her job as his assistant and walked out of his life for good.

God, he really needed to pour out some frustration behind the wheel, full out, racing to...anywhere.

A few steps deeper into the woods, his blood hummed with recognition. The land was more mature than the last time he’d been here, but he knew the area well enough. Home. Or rather it used to be home, back when he was a poor kid with a drunken father. This small South Carolina farm town outside of Columbia had been called God’s land.

Elliot considered it a corner of hell.

Although hell was brimming with sunshine today.

He stepped toward a clearing and onto a familiar dirt driveway, with a ranch-style cabin and a fat oak at least a hundred years old in the middle. A tree he’d played under as a kid, wishing he could stay here forever because this little haven in hell was a lot safer than his home.

He’d hidden with Lucy Ann Joyner here at her aunt’s farmhouse. Both of them enjoying the sanctuary of this place, even if only for a few hours. Why were his buds taking him down this memory lane detour?

Branches rustled, a creaking sound carrying on the breeze, drawing his gaze. A swing dangled from a thick branch, moving back and forth as a woman swayed, her back to them. He stopped cold. Suddenly the meaning of this journey was crystal clear. His friends were forcing a confrontation eleven months in the making since he and Lucy Ann were both too stubborn to take the first step.

Did she know he was coming? He swallowed hard at the notion that maybe she wanted him here after all. That her decision to slice him out of her life had changed. But if she had, then why not just drive up to the house?

He wasn’t sure the past year could be that easily forgotten, but his gut twisted tight over just the thought of talking to her again.

His eyes soaked in the sight of her, taking her in like parched earth with water. He stared at the slim feminine back, the light brown hair swishing just past her shoulders. Damn, but it had been a long eleven months without her. His lifelong pal had bolted after one reckless— incredible—night that had ruined their friendship forever.

He’d given her space and still hadn’t heard from her. In the span of a day, the one person he’d trusted above everyone else had cut him off. He’d never let anyone get that close to him—not even his friends from the military reform school. He and Lucy Ann had a history, a shared link that went beyond a regular friendship.

Or so he’d thought.

As if drawn by a magnet, he walked closer to the swing, to the woman. His hands still linked in front of him, he moved silently, watching her. The bared lines of her throat evoked memories of her jasmine scent. The way her dress slipped ever so slightly off one shoulder reminded him of years past when she’d worn hand-me-downs from neighbors.

The rope tugged at the branch as she toe-tapped, back and forth. A gust of wind turned the swing spinning to face him.

His feet stumbled to a halt.

Yes, it was Lucy Ann, but not just her. Lucy Ann stared back at him with wide eyes, shocked eyes. She’d clearly been kept every bit as much in the dark as he had. Before he could finish processing his disappointment that she hadn’t helped arrange this, his eyes took in the biggest shocker of all.

Lucy Ann’s arms were curved around an infant swaddled in a blue plaid blanket as she breast-fed him.

* * *

Lucy Ann clutched her baby boy to her chest and stared in shock at Elliot Starc, her childhood friend, her former boss. Her onetime lover.

The father of her child.

She’d scripted the moment she would tell him about their son a million times in her mind, but never had it played out like this, with him showing up out of the blue. Handcuffed? Clearly, he hadn’t planned on coming to see her. She’d tempted fate in waiting so long to tell him, then he’d pulled one of his disappearing acts and she couldn’t find him.

Now there was no avoiding him.

Part of her ached to run to Elliot and trust in the friendship they’d once shared, a friendship built here, in the wooded farmland outside Columbia, South Carolina. But another part of her—the part that saw his two friends lurking and the handcuffs on her old pal—told her all she needed to know. Elliot hadn’t suddenly seen the light and come running to apologize for being a first-class jerk. He’d been dragged kicking and screaming.

Well, screw him. She had her pride, too.

Only the baby in her arms kept her from bolting altogether into her aunt’s cabin up the hill. Lucy Ann eased Eli from her breast and adjusted her clothes in place. Shifting her son to her shoulder, she patted his back, her eyes staying locked on Elliot, trying to gauge his mood.

The way his eyes narrowed told her loud and clear that she couldn’t delay her explanation any longer. She should have told him about Eli sooner. In the early days of her pregnancy, she’d tried and chickened out. Then she’d gotten angry over his speedy rebound engagement to the goddess Gianna, and that made it easier to keep her distance a while longer. She wouldn’t be the cause of breaking up his engagement—rat bastard. She would tell him once he was married and wouldn’t feel obligated to offer her anything. Even though the thought of him marrying that too-perfect bombshell heiress made her vaguely nauseous.

Now, Elliot was here, so damn tall and muscular, his sandy brown hair closely shorn. His shoulders filled out the black button-down shirt, his jeans slung low on his hips. His five o’clock shadow and narrowed green eyes gave him a bad-boy air he’d worked his whole life to live up to.

She knew every inch of him, down to a scar on his elbow he’d told everyone he got from falling off his bike but he’d really gotten from the buckle on his father’s belt during a beating. They shared so much history, and now they shared a child.

Standing, she pulled her gaze from him and focused on his old boarding school friends behind him, brooding Conrad Hughes and charmer Malcolm Douglas. Of course they’d dragged him here. These days both of them had sunk so deep into a pool of marital bliss, they seemed to think everyone else wanted to plunge in headfirst. No doubt they’d brought Elliot here with just that in mind.

Not a freakin’ chance.

She wasn’t even interested in dipping her toes into those waters and certainly not with Elliot, the biggest playboy in the free world.

“Gentlemen, do you think you could uncuff him, then leave so he and I can talk civilly?”

Conrad—a casino owner—fished out a key from his pocket and held it up. “Can do.” He looked at Elliot. “I trust you’re not going to do anything stupid like try to start a fight over our little prank here.”

Prank? This was her life and they were playing with it. Anger sparked in her veins.

Elliot pulled a tight smile. “Of course not. I’m outnumbered. Now just undo the handcuffs. My arms are too numb to hit either of you anyway.”

Malcolm plucked the keys from Conrad and opened the cuffs. Elliot massaged his wrists for a moment, still silent, then stretched his arms over his head.

Did he have to keep getting hotter every year? Especially not fair when she hadn’t even had time to shower since yesterday thanks to her son’s erratic sleeping schedule.

Moistening her dry mouth, Lucy Ann searched for a way to dispel the awkward air. “Malcolm, Conrad, I realize you meant well with this, but perhaps it’s time for you both to leave. Elliot and I clearly have some things to discuss.”

Eli burped. Lucy Ann rolled her eyes and cradled her son in the crook of her arm, too aware of the weight of Elliot’s stare.

Malcolm thumped Elliot on the back. “You can thank us later.”

Conrad leveled a somber steady look her way. “Call if you need anything. I mean that.”

Without another word, both men disappeared back into the wooded perimeter as quickly as they’d arrived. For the first time in eleven months, she was alone with Elliot.

Well, not totally alone. She clutched Eli closer until he squirmed.

Elliot stuffed his hands in his pockets, still keeping his distance. “How long have you been staying with your aunt?”

“Since I left Monte Carlo.” She’d been here the whole time, if he’d only bothered to look. Where else would she go? She had money saved up, but staying here made the most sense economically.

“How are you supporting yourself?”

“That’s not your business.” She lifted her chin. He had the ability to find out anything he wanted to know about her if he’d just looked, thanks to his Interpol connections.

Apparently, he hadn’t even bothered to try. And that’s what hurt the most. All these months, she’d thought he would check up on her. He would have seen she was pregnant. He would have wondered.

He would have come.

“Not my business?” He stalked a step closer, only a hint of anger showing in his carefully guarded eyes. “Really? I think we both know why it is so very much my business.”

“I have plenty saved up from my years working for you.” He’d insisted on paying her an outlandish salary to be his personal assistant. “And I’m doing virtual work to subsidize my income. I build and maintain websites. I make enough to get by.” Her patience ran out with this small talk, the avoidance of discussing the baby sleeping in her arms. “You’ve had months to ask these questions and chose to remain silent. If anyone has a right to be angry, it’s me.”

“You didn’t call either, and you have a much more compelling reason to communicate.” He nodded toward Eli. “He is mine.”

“You sound sure.”

“I know you. I see the truth in your eyes,” he said simply.

She couldn’t argue with that. She swallowed once, twice, to clear her throat and gather her nerve. “His name is Eli. And yes, he’s your son, two months old.”

Elliot pulled his hands from his pockets. “I want to hold him.”

Her stomach leaped into her throat. She’d envisioned this moment so many times, but living in it? She never could have imagined how deeply the emotions would rattle her. She passed over Eli to his father, watching Elliot’s face. For once, she couldn’t read him at all. So strange, considering how they’d once been so in sync they could finish each other’s sentences, read a thought from a glance across a room.

Now, he was like a stranger.

Face a blank slate, Elliot held their son in broad, capable hands, palmed the baby’s bottom and head as he studied the tiny cherub features. Eli still wore his blue footed sleeper from bedtime, his blond hair glistening as the sun sent dappled rays through the branches. The moment looked like a fairy tale, but felt so far from that her heart broke over how this should have, could have been.

Finally, Elliot looked up at her, his blasé mask sliding away to reveal eyes filled with ragged pain. His throat moved in a slow gulp of emotion. “Why did you keep this—Eli—from me?”

Guilt and frustration gnawed at her. She’d tried to contact him but knew she hadn’t tried hard enough. Her pride... Damn it all. Her excuses all sounded weak now, even to her own ears.

“You were engaged to someone else. I didn’t want to interfere in that.”

“You never intended to tell me at all?” His voice went hoarse with disbelief, his eyes shooting back down to his son sleeping against his chest so contentedly as if he’d been there all along.

“Of course I planned to explain—after you were married.” She dried her damp palms on her sundress. “I refused to be responsible for breaking up your great love match.”

Okay, she couldn’t keep the cynicism out of that last part, but he deserved it for his rebound relationship.

“My engagement to Gianna ended months ago. Why didn’t you contact me?”

He had a point there. She ached to run, but he had her son. And as much as she hated to admit it to herself, she’d missed Elliot. They’d been so much a part of each other’s lives for so long. The past months apart had been like a kind of withdrawal.

“Half the time I couldn’t find you and the other half, your new personal secretary couldn’t figure out where you were.” And hadn’t that pissed her off something fierce? Then worried her, because she knew about his sporadic missions for Interpol, and she also knew his reckless spirit.

“You can’t have tried very hard, Lucy Ann. All you had to do was speak with any of my friends.” His eyes narrowed. “Or did you? Is that why they brought me here today, because you reached out to them?”

She’d considered doing just that many times, only to balk at the last second. She wouldn’t be manipulative. She’d planned to tell him face-to-face. And soon.

“I wish I could say yes, but I’m afraid not. One of them must have been checking up on me even if you never saw the need.”

Oops. Where had that bitter jab come from?

He cocked an eyebrow. “This is about Eli. Not about the two of us.”

“There is no ‘two of us’ anymore.” She touched her son’s head lightly, aching to take him back in her arms. “You ended that when you ran away scared after we had a reckless night of sex.”

“I do not run away.”

“Excuse me if your almighty ego is bruised.” She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling as though they were in fifth grade again, arguing over whether the basketball was in or out of bounds.

Elliot sighed, looking around at the empty clearing. The limo’s engine roared to life, then faded as it drove away without him. He turned back to Lucy Ann. “This isn’t accomplishing anything. We need to talk reasonably about our child’s future.”

“I agree.” Of course they had to talk, but right now her heart was in her throat. She could barely think straight. She scooped her baby from his arms. “We’ll talk tomorrow when we’re both less rattled.”

“How do I know you won’t just disappear with my son?” He let go of Eli with obvious reluctance.

His son.

Already his voice echoed with possessiveness.

She clasped her son closer, breathing in the powder-fresh familiarity of him, the soft skin of his cheek pressed against her neck reassuringly. She could and she would manage her feelings for Elliot. Nothing and no one could be allowed to interfere with her child’s future.

“I’ve been here all this time, Elliot. You just never chose to look.” A bitter pill to swallow. She gestured up the empty dirt road. “Even now, you didn’t choose. Your friends dumped you here on my doorstep.”

Elliot walked a slow circle around her, his hand snagging the rope holding the swing until he stopped beside her. He had a way of moving with such fluidity, every step controlled, a strange contradiction in a man who always lived on the edge. Always flirting with chaos.

Her skin tingled to life with the memory of his touch, the wind teasing her with a hint of aftershave and musk.

She cleared her throat. “Elliot, I really think you should—”

“Lucy Ann,” he interrupted, “in case it’s escaped your notice, my friends left me here. Alone. No car.” He leaned in closer, his hand still holding the rope for balance, so close she could almost feel the rasp of his five o’clock shadow. “So regardless of whether or not we talk, for now, you’re stuck with me.”


Two

Elliot held himself completely still, a feat of supreme control given the frustration racing through his veins. That Lucy Ann had hidden her pregnancy—his son—from him all this time threatened to send him to his knees. Somehow during this past year he’d never let go of the notion that everything would simply return to the way things had been before with them. Their friendship had carried him through the worst times of his life.

Now he knew there was no going back. Things between them had changed irrevocably.

They had a child together, a boy just inches away. Elliot clenched his hand around the rope. He needed to bide his time and proceed with caution. His lifelong friend had a million great qualities—but she was also stubborn as hell. A wrong step during this surprise meeting could have her digging in her heels.

He had to control his frustration, tamp down the anger over all that she’d hidden from him. Staying levelheaded saved his life on more than one occasion on the racetrack. But never had the stakes been more important than now. No matter how robbed he felt, he couldn’t let that show.

Life had taught him well how to hide his darker emotions.

So he waited, watching her face for some sign. The breeze lifted a strand of her hair, whipping it over his cheek. His pulse thumped harder.

“Well, Lucy Ann? What now?”

Her pupils widened in her golden-brown eyes, betraying her answering awareness a second before she bolted up from the swing. Elliot lurched forward as the swing freed. He released the rope and found his footing.

Lucy Ann glanced over her shoulder as she made her way to the graveled path. “Let’s go inside.”

“Where’s your aunt?” He followed her, rocks crunching under his feet.

“At work.” Lucy Ann walked up the steps leading to the prefab log cabin’s long front porch. Time had worn the redwood look down to a rusty hue. “She still waits tables at the Pizza Shack.”

“You used to send her money.” He’d stumbled across the bank transaction by accident. Or maybe his accountant had made a point of letting him discover the transfers since Lucy Ann left so little for herself.

“Well, come to find out, Aunt Carla never used it,” Lucy Ann said wryly, pushing the door open into the living room. The decor hadn’t changed, the same brown plaid sofa with the same saggy middle, the same dusty Hummel figurines packed in a corner cabinet. He’d forgotten how Carla scoured yard sales religiously for the things, unable to afford them new.

They’d hidden here more than once as kids, then as teenagers, plotting a way to escape their home lives. He eyed the son he’d barely met but who already filled his every plan going forward. “Your aunt’s prideful, just like you.”

“I accepted a job from you.” She settled Eli into a portable crib by the couch.

“You worked your butt off and got your degree in computer technology.” He admired the way she never took the easy way out. How she’d found a career for herself.

So why had she avoided talking to him? Surely not from any fear of confrontation. Her hair swung forward as she leaned into the baby crib, her dress clinging to her hips. His gaze hitched on the new curves.

Lucy Ann spun away from the crib and faced him again. “Are we going to keep making small talk or are you going to call a cab? I could drive you back into town.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyebrows pinched together. “I thought we agreed to talk tomorrow.”

“You decided. I never agreed.” He dropped to sit on the sofa arm. If he sat in the middle, no telling how deep that sag would sink.

“You led me to believe...” She looked around as if searching for answers, but the Hummels stayed silent. “Damn it. You just wanted to get in the house.”

Guilty as charged. “This really is the best place to discuss the future. Anywhere else and I’ll have to be on the lookout for fans. We’re in NASCAR country, you know. Not Formula One, but kissing cousins.” He held up his hands. “Besides, my jackass buddies stranded me without my wallet.”

She gasped. “You’re joking.”

“I wish.” They must have taken it from his pocket while he was knocked out. He tamped down another surge of anger over being manipulated. If he’d just had some warning...

“Why did they do this to you—to both of us?” She sat on the other arm of the sofa, the worn width between them.

“Probably because they know how stubborn we are.” He watched her face, trying to read the truth in the delicate lines, but he saw only exhaustion and dark circles. “Would you have ever told me about the baby?”

“You’ve asked me that already and I’ve answered. Of course I would have told you—” she shrugged “―eventually.”

Finally he asked the question that had been plaguing him most. “How can I be sure?”

Shaking her head, she shrugged again. “You can’t. You’ll just have to trust me.”

A wry smile tugged the corner of his mouth. “Trust has never been easy for either of us.” But now that he was here and saw the truth, his decision was simple. “I want you and Eli to come with me, just for a few weeks while we make plans for the future.”

“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Ah, come on, Lucy Ann. Think about my request before you react.”

“Okay. Thinking...” She tapped her temple, tapping, tapping. Her hand fell to her lap. “Still no.”

God, her humor and spunk had lifted him out of hell so many times. He’d missed her since she’d stormed out of his life....

But he’d also missed out on a lot more in not knowing about his son.

“I can never regain those first two months of Eli’s life.” A bitter pill he wasn’t sure how to swallow down. “I need a chance to make up for that.”

She shook her head slowly. “You can’t be serious about taking a baby on the road.”

“I’m dead serious.” He wasn’t leaving here without them. He couldn’t just toss money down and go.

“Let me spell it out for you then. Elliot, this is the middle of your racing season.” She spoke slowly, as she’d done when they were kids and she’d tutored him in multiplication tables. “You’ll be traveling, working, running with a party crowd. I’ve seen it year after year, enough to know that’s no environment for a baby.”

And damn it, she was every bit as astute now as she’d been then. He lined up an argument, a way to bypass her concerns. “You saw my life when there wasn’t a baby around—no kids around, actually. It can be different. I can be different, like other guys who bring their families on the circuit with them.” He shifted to sit beside her. “I have a damn compelling reason to make changes in my life. This is the chance to show you that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You would be wrong about that.”

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

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

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

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

“For what?”

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

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

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

“Like hell.”

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

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

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

“You’re crazy. You know that, right?”

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

“Run that by me again?”

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There’s no denying we slept together.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is your call.”

“That’s not fair to make an ultimatum like that, to put it on me.”

“I’m asking, and I’m offering you choices.”

Choices? Hardly. She knew how important his racing career was to him. And she couldn’t help but admit to feeling a bit of pride in having helped him along the way. There was no way she could let him back out now.

She tossed up her hands. “Fine. Eli and I will travel with you on the race circuit for the next four weeks so you can figure out whatever it is you want to know and make your plans. You win. You always do.”

* * *

Winning didn’t feel much like a victory tonight.

Elliot poured himself a drink from the wet bar at his hotel. He and Lucy Ann had struck a bargain that he would stay at a nearby historic home that had been converted into a hotel while she made arrangements to leave in the morning. He’d called for a car service to pick him up, making use of his credit card numbers, memorized, a fact he hadn’t bothered mentioning to Lucy Ann earlier. Although she should have known. Had she selectively forgotten or had she been that rattled?

The half hour waiting for the car had been spent silently staring at his son while Eli slept and Lucy Ann hid in the other room under the guise of packing.

Elliot’s head was still reeling. He had been knocked unconscious and kidnapped, and found out he had an unknown son all in one day. He tipped back the glass of bourbon, emptying it and pouring another to savor, more slowly, while he sat out on the garden balcony where he would get better cell phone reception.

He dropped into a wrought-iron chair and let the Carolina moon pour over him. His home state brought such a mix of happy and sad memories. He was always better served just staying the hell away. He tugged his cell from his waistband, tucked his Bluetooth in his ear and thumbed autodial three for Malcolm Douglas.

The ringing stopped two buzzes in. “Brother, how’s it going?”

“How do you think it’s going, Douglas? My head hurts and I’m pissed off.” Anger was stoked back to life just thinking about his friends’ arrogant stunt, the way they’d played with his life. “You could have just told me about the baby.”

Malcolm chuckled softly. “Wouldn’t have been half as fun that way.”

“Fun? You think this is some kind of game? You’re a sick bastard.” The thought of them plotting this out while he partied blissfully unaware had him working hard to keep his breath steady. He and his friends had played some harsh jokes on one another in the past, but nothing like this. “How long have you known?”

“For about a week,” the chart-topping musician answered unrepentantly.

“A week.” Seven days he could have had with his son. Seven days his best friends kept the largest of secrets from him. Anger flamed through him. Was there nobody left in this world he could trust? He clenched his hand around the glass tumbler until it threatened to shatter. “And you said nothing at all.”

“I know it seems twisted, but we talked it through,” he said, all humor gone, his smooth tones completely serious for once. “We thought this was the best way. You’re too good at playing it cool with advance notice. You would have just made her mad.”

“Like I didn’t already do that?” He set aside the half-drunk glass of bourbon, the top-shelf brand wasted on him in his current mood.

“You confronted her with honesty,” Malcolm answered reasonably. “If we’d given you time to think, you’d have gotten your pride up. You would have been angry and bullish. You can be rather pigheaded, you know.”

“If I’m such a jackass, then why are we still friends?”

“Because I’m a jackass, too.” Malcolm paused before continuing somberly. “You would have done the same for me. I know what it’s like not to see your child, to have missed out on time you can never get back...”

Malcolm’s voice choked off with emotion. He and his wife had been high school sweethearts who’d had to give up a baby girl for adoption since they were too young to provide a life for their daughter. Now they had twins—a boy and a girl—they loved dearly, but they still grieved for that first child, even knowing they’d made the right decision for her.

Although Malcolm and Celia had both known about their child from the start.

Elliot forked his hands through his buzzed hair, kept closely shorn since he’d let his thoughts of Lucy Ann distract him and he’d caught his car on fire just before Christmas—nearly caught himself on fire, as well.

He’d scorched his hair; the call had been that damn close.

“I just can’t wrap my brain around the fact she’s kept his existence from me for so long.”

Malcolm snorted. “I can’t believe the two of you slept together.”

A growl rumbled low in his throat. “You’re close to overstepping the bounds of our friendship with talk like that.”

“Ahhh.” He chuckled. “So you do care about her more than you’ve let on.”

“We were...friends. Lifelong friends. That’s no secret.” He and Lucy Ann shared so much history it was impossible to unravel events from the past without thinking about each other. “The fact that there was briefly more...I can’t deny that, either.”

“You must not have been up to snuff for her to run so fast.”

Anger hissed between Elliot’s teeth, and he resisted the urge to pitch his Bluetooth over the balcony. “Now you have crossed the line. If we were sitting in the same place right now, my fist would be in your face.”

“Fair enough.” Douglas laughed softly again. “Like I said. You do care more than a little, more than any ‘buddy.’ And you can’t refute it. Admit it, Elliot. I’ve just played you, my friend.”

No use denying he’d been outmaneuvered by someone who knew him too well.

And as for what Malcolm had said? That he cared for Lucy Ann? Cared? Yes. He had. And like every other time in his life he’d cared, things had gone south.

If he wanted to sort through this mess and create any kind of future with Eli and Lucy Ann, he had to think more and care less.


Three

Lucy Ann shaded her eyes against the rising sun. For the third time in twenty-four hours a limousine pulled up her dusty road, oak trees creating a canopy for the long driveway. The first time had occurred yesterday when Elliot had arrived, then when he’d left, and now, he was returning.

Her simple semihermit life working from home with her son was drawing to a close in another few minutes.

Aunt Carla cradled Eli in her arms. Carla never seemed to age, her hair a perpetual shade halfway between gray and brown. She refused to waste money to have it colored. Her arms were ropy and strong from years of carting around trays of pizzas and sodas. Her skin was prematurely wrinkled from too much hard work, time in the Carolina sun—and a perpetual smile.

She was a tough, good woman who’d been there for Lucy Ann all her life. Too bad Carla couldn’t have been her mother. Heaven knows she’d prayed for that often enough.

Carla smiled down at little Eli, his fist curled around her finger. “I’m sure I’m going to miss you both. It’s been a treat having a baby around again.”

She’d never had a child of her own, but was renowned for opening her home to family members in need. She wasn’t a problem-solver so much as a temporary oasis. Very temporary, as the limo drew closer down the half-mile driveway.

“You’re sweet to make it sound like we haven’t taken over your house.” Lucy Ann tugged her roller bag through the door, kerthunking it over a bump, casting one last glance back at the tiny haven of Hummels and the saggy sofa.

“Sugar, you know I only wish I could’ve done more for you this time and when you were young.” Carla swayed from side to side, wearing her standard high-waisted jeans and a seasonal shirt—a pink Easter bunny on today’s tee.

“You’ve always been there for me.” Lucy Ann sat on top of her luggage, her eyes on the nearing limo. “I don’t take that for granted.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um, I mean, I hadn’t thought...”

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

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

* * *

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

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

And now?

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

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

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

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

Apparently, so was he.

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

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

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

“He has you as a constant.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I understand that.”

“Do you?” He moved closer to her.

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

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

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

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

“All the girls wanted to sign your cast.” She looked sideways at him, smiling. “Even then you were a chick magnet.”

“They just wanted to use their markers,” he said dismissively.

She looked up to meet his eyes fully for the first time since they’d climbed into the limousine. “I knew that your arm was already broken.”

“You never said a word to me.” He rubbed his forearm absently.

“You would have been embarrassed if I confronted you, and you would have lied to me. We didn’t talk as openly then about our home lives.” She tucked the blanket more securely around the baby’s feet as Eli sucked a pacifier in his sleep. “We were new friends who shared a jelly sandwich at lunch.”

“We were new friends and yet you were right about the arm.” He looked at his son’s tiny hands and wondered how any father could ever strike out at such innocence. Sweat beaded his forehead at even the thought.

“I told my mom though, after school,” Lucy Ann’s eyes fell to his wrist. “She wasn’t as...distant in those days.”

The weight of her gaze was like a stroke along his skin, her words salve to a past wound. “I didn’t know you said anything to anyone.”

“Her word didn’t carry much sway, or maybe she didn’t fight that hard.” She shrugged, the strap of her sundress sliding. “Either way, nothing happened. So I went to the principal.”

“My spunky advocate.” God, he’d missed her. And yet he’d always thought he knew everything about her and here she had something new to share. “Guess that explains why they pulled me out of class to interview me about my arm.”

“You didn’t tell the principal the truth though, did you? I kept waiting for something big to happen. My five-year-old imagination was running wild.”

For one instant in that meeting he had considered talking, but the thoughts of afterward had frozen any words in his throat like a lodged wad of that shared jelly sandwich. “I was still too scared of what would happen to my mother if I talked. Of what he would do to her.”

Sympathy flickered in her brown eyes. “We discussed so many things as kids, always avoiding anything to do with our home lives. Our friendship was a haven for me then.”

He’d felt the same. But that meeting with the principal had made him bolder later, except he’d chosen the wrong person to tell. Someone loyal to his father, which only brought on another beating.

“You had your secrets, too. I could always sense when you were holding back.”

“Then apparently we didn’t have any secrets from each other after all.” She winced, her hand going to her son’s car seat. “Not until this year.”

The limo jostled along a pothole on the country road. Their legs brushed and his arm shot out to rest along the back of her seat. She jolted for an instant, her breath hitching. He stared back, keeping his arm in place until her shoulders relaxed.

“Oh, Elliot.” She sagged back. “We’re a mess, you and I, with screwed-up pasts and not much to go on as an example for building a future.”

The worry coating her words stabbed at him. He cupped her arm lightly, the feel of her so damn right tucked to him. “We need to figure out how to straighten ourselves out to be good parents. For Eli.”

“It won’t be all that difficult to outdo our parents.”

“Eli deserves a lot better than just a step above our folks.” The feel of her hair along his wrist soothed old wounds, the way she’d always done for him. But more than that, the feel of her now, with the new memories, with that night between them...

His pulse pounded in his ears, his body stirring.... He wanted her. And right now, he didn’t see a reason why they couldn’t have everything. They shared a similar past and they shared a child.

He just had to convince Lucy Ann. “I agree with you there. That’s why it’s important for us to use this time together wisely. Figure out how to be the parents he deserves. Figure out how to be a team, the partners he needs.”

“I’m here, in the car with you, committed to spending the next four weeks with you.” She tipped her face up to his, the jasmine scent of her swirling all around him. “What more do you want from me?”

“I want us to be friends again, Lucy Ann,” he answered honestly, his voice raw. “Friends. Not just parents passing a kid back and forth to each other. I want things the way they were before between us.”

Her pupils widened with emotion. “Exactly the way we were before? Is that even possible?”

“Not exactly as before,” he conceded, easy enough to do when he knew his plans for something better between them.

He angled closer, stroking her ponytail over her shoulder in a sweep he wanted to take farther down her back to her waist. He burned all the way to his gut, needing to pull her closer.

“We’ll be friends and more. We can go back to that night together, pick up from there. Because heaven help me, if we’re being totally honest, then yes. I want you back in my bed again.”


Four

The caress of Elliot’s hand along her hair sent tingles all the way to her toes. She wanted to believe the deep desire was simply a result of nearly a year without sex, but she knew her body longed for this particular man. For the pleasure of his caress over her bare skin.

Except then she wouldn’t be able to think straight. Now more than ever, she needed to keep a level head for her child. She loved her son more than life, and she had some serious fences to mend with Elliot to secure a peaceful future for Eli.

Lucy Ann clasped Elliot’s wrist and moved it aside. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m completely serious.” His fingers twisted in her ponytail.

“Let. Go. Now,” she said succinctly, barely able to keep herself from grabbing his shirt and hauling him in for a kiss. “Sex will only complicate matters.”

“Or it could simplify things.” He released her hair slowly, his stroke tantalizing all the way down her arm.

Biting her lip, she squeezed her eyes shut, too enticed by the green glow of desire in his eyes.

“Lucy Ann?” His bourbon-smooth tones intoxicated the parched senses that had missed him every day of the past eleven months. “What are you thinking?”

Her head angled ever so slightly toward his touch. “My aunt said the same thing about the bonus of friends becoming...more.”

He laughed softly, the heat of his breath warming her throat and broadcasting just how close he’d moved to her, so close he could kiss the exposed flesh. “Your aunt has always been a smart woman. Although I sure as hell didn’t talk to her about you and I becoming lovers.”

She opened her eyes slowly, steeling herself. “You need to quit saying things like that or I’m going to have the car stopped right now. I will walk home with my baby if I have to. You and I need boundaries for this to work.”

His gaze fell to her mouth for an instant that felt stretched to eternity before he angled back, leather seat creaking. “We’ll have to agree to disagree.”

Her exhale was shakier than she would have liked, betraying her. “You can cut the innocent act. I’ve seen your playboy moves over the years. Your practiced charm isn’t going to work with me.” Not again, anyway. “And it wouldn’t have worked before if I hadn’t been so taken away by sentimentality and a particularly strong vintage liqueur.”

Furrows dug deep trenches in his forehead. “Lucy Ann, I am deeply sorry if I took advantage of our friendship—”

“I told you that night. No apologies.” His apologies had been mortifying then, especially when she’d been hoping for a repeat only to learn he was full of regrets. He’d stung her pride and her heart. Not that she ever intended to let him know as much. “There were two of us in bed that night, and I refuse to call it a mistake. But it won’t happen again, remember? We decided that then.”

Or rather he had decided and she had pretended to go along to save face over her weakness when it came to this man.

His eyes went smoky. “I remember a lot of other things about that night.”

Already she could feel herself weakening, wanting to read more into his every word and slightest action. She had to stop this intimacy, this romanticism, now.

“Enough talking about the past. This is about our future. Eli’s future.” She put on her best logical, personal-assistant voice she’d used a million times to place distance between them. “Where are we going first? I have to confess I haven’t kept track of the race dates this year.”

“Races later,” he said simply as the car reached the airport. “First, we have a wedding to attend.”

Her gut tightened at his surprise announcement. “A wedding?”

* * *

Lucy Ann hated weddings. Even when the wedding was for a longtime friend. Elliot’s high school alumni pal—Dr. Rowan Boothe—was marrying none other than an African princess, who also happened to be a Ph.D. research scientist.

She hated to feel ungrateful, though, since this was the international event of the year, with a lavish ceremony in East Africa, steeped in colorful garb and local delicacies. Invitations were coveted, and media cameras hovered at a respectable distance, monitored by an elite security team that made the packed day run smoothly well into the evening. Tuxedos, formal gowns and traditional tribal wraps provided a magnificent blend of beauty that reflected the couple’s modern tastes while acknowledging time-honored customs.

Sitting at the moonlit reception on the palace lawns by the beach, her baby asleep in a stroller, Lucy Ann sipped her glass of spiced fruit juice. She kept a smile plastered on her face as if her showing up here with Elliot and their son was nothing out of the ordinary. Regional music with drums and flutes carried on the air along with laughter and celebration. She refused to let her bad mood ruin the day for the happy bride and groom. Apparently, Elliot had been “kidnapped” from Rowan’s bachelor party.

Now he’d returned for the wedding—with her and the baby. No one had asked, but their eyes all made it clear they knew. The fact that he’d thrust their messed-up relationship right into the spotlight frustrated her. But he’d insisted it was better to do it sooner rather than later. Why delay the inevitable?

He’d even arranged for formal dresses for her to pick from. She’d had no choice but to oblige him since her only formals were basic black, far too somber for a wedding. She’d gravitated toward simple wear in the past, never wanting to stand out. Although in this colorful event, her pale lavender gown wasn’t too glaring. Still, she felt a little conspicuous because it was strapless and floor-length with a beaded bodice. Breast-feeding had given her new cleavage.

A fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed, given the heated looks Elliot kept sliding her way.

But her mood was too sour to dwell on those steamy glances. Especially when he looked so mouth-wateringly handsome in a tuxedo, freshly shaven and smiling. It was as if the past eleven months apart didn’t exist, as if they’d just shared the same bed, the same glass of wine. They’d been close friends for so long, peeling him from her thoughts was easier said than done.

She just wanted the marriage festivities to be over, then hopefully she would feel less vulnerable, more in control.

Weddings were happy occasions for some, evoking dreams or bringing back happy memories. Not for her. When she saw the white lace, flowers and a towering cake, she could only remember each time her mama said “I do.” All four times. Each man was worse than the one before, until child services stepped in and said drug addict stepdaddy number four had to go if Lucy Ann’s mother wanted to keep her child.

Mama chose hubby.

Lucy Ann finally went to live with her aunt for good—no more dodging groping hands or awkward requests to sit on “daddy’s” lap. Her aunt loved her, cared for her, but Carla had others to care for, as well—Grandma and an older bachelor uncle.

No one put Lucy Ann first or loved her most. Not until this baby. She would do anything for Eli. Anything. Even swallow her pride and let Elliot back in her life.

Still, keeping on a happy face throughout the wedding was hard. All wedding phobia aside, she worked to appreciate the wedding as an event. She had to learn the art of detaching her emotions from her brain if she expected to make it through the next four weeks with her heart intact.

“Lucy Ann?” A familiar female voice startled her, and she set her juice aside to find Hillary Donavan standing beside her.

Hillary was married to another of Elliot’s school friends, Troy Donavan, more commonly known as the Robin Hood Hacker. As a computer-savvy teen he’d wreaked all sorts of havoc. Now he was a billionaire software developer. He’d recently married Hillary, an events planner, who looked as elegant as ever in a green Grecian-style silk dress.

The red-haired beauty dropped into a chair beside the stroller. “Do you mind if I hide out here with you and the baby for a while? My part in orchestrating this nationally televised wedding is done, thank heavens.”

“You did a lovely job blending local traditions with a modern flair. No doubt magazine covers will be packed with photos.”

“They didn’t give me much time to plan since they made their engagement announcement just after Christmas, but I’m pleased with the results. I hope they are, too.”

“I’m sure they are, although they can only see each other.” Lucy Ann’s stomach tightened, remembering her mother’s adoring looks for each new man.

“To think they were professional adversaries for so long...now the sparks between them are so tangible I’m thinking I didn’t need to order the firework display for a finale.”

Lucy Ann pulled a tight smile, doing her best to be polite. “Romance is in the air.”

“I hope this isn’t going too late for you and the little guy.” She flicked her red hair over her shoulder. “You must be exhausted from your flight.”

“He’s asleep. We’ll be fine.” If she left, Elliot would feel obligated to leave, as well. And right now she was too emotionally raw to be alone with him. Surely Hillary had to have some idea of how difficult this was for her, since the alum buddies had been party to the kidnapping.

Her eyes slid to the clutch of pals, the five men who’d been sent to a military reform school together.

Their bond was tight. Unbreakable.

They stood together at the beachside under a cabana wearing matching tuxedos, all five of them too damn rich and handsome for their own good. Luckily for the susceptible female population, the other four were now firmly taken, married and completely in love with their brides. The personification of bad boys redeemed, but still edgy.

Exciting.

The Alpha Brotherhood rarely gathered in one place, but when they did, they were a sight to behold. They’d all landed in trouble with the law as teens, but they’d been sent to a military reform school rather than juvie. Computer whiz Troy Donavan had broken into the Department of Defense’s computer system to expose corruption. Casino magnate Conrad Hughes had used insider trading tips to manipulate the stock market. He’d only barely redeemed himself by tanking corporations that used child-labor sweatshops in other countries. World famous soft rock/jazz musician Malcolm Douglas had been sent away on drug charges as a teenager, although she’d learned later that he’d been playing the piano in a bar underage and got nabbed in the bust.

The groom—Dr. Rowan Boothe—had a history a bit more troubled. He’d been convicted of driving while drunk. He’d been part of an accident he’d taken the blame for so his overage brother wouldn’t go to jail—then his brother had died a year later driving drunk into a tree. Now Rowan used all his money to start clinics in third-world countries.

They all had their burdens to bear, and that guilt motivated them to make amends now. Through their freelance work with Interpol. Through charitable donations beyond anything anyone would believe unless they saw the accounting books.




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