Three Boys And A Baby (American Romance) Page 17

Ella tried hooking Jackson’s gaze on her way past, but he didn’t bite. Nice. Good to know he had her back.

  “FOR WHAT IT’S WORTH,” Liam said, carrying Rose and her carrier to Ella’s front door, “Dad can sometimes be a real tool. He was in rare form tonight.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s his birthday. He’s entitled to have his own way.”

  “I could tell Jackson was torn.”

  “I said it’s all good.” Ella held out her arms for the baby. “The last thing I’d intended was to ruin your father’s celebration.”

  “I know. We all know. Like I said, in his golden years, he’s turned crusty.”

  Not trusting her voice past the lump in her throat, Ella nodded, while Liam handed over Rose. “Thanks again for the ride.”

  “No problem.” She’d turned to go inside when he said, “There’s ah, one more thing…”

  “Yes?” Rose snuggled her head into the crook of Ella’s neck. The loving gesture was much needed in light of Liam’s narrowed gaze.

  “I don’t know what you and my brother have going, but you have to realize he has a lot at stake.”

  “With Julie, you mean?”

  “And his son. Do you really want to be the woman who rips apart his perfect family?”

  “Gee,” she said, at the moment sick of the entire Tate clan, “maybe it’s just me, but from the outside looking in, I’m guessing it was Julie’s leaving that did the most damage to Jackson’s marriage—not me.”

  By the time Liam had pulled out of her driveway, and she’d gone inside, Ella was shaking. How dare he make such an accusation? This whole night had been insane. Talk about multiple signs from above that she and Jackson were never meant to be…

  “Mommy?” Owen stood at the base of the stairs.

  “Yes, hon?” His cheeks were damp; he’d been crying.

  “Why was Dillon’s grandpa so mean to you?”

  “Oh, sweetie,” she said, sitting on the second stair, so she could hold Owen and Rose. “He was probably just upset about his presents. You know, like maybe he asked for a bike, but got boxers instead.”

  “How come Dillon didn’t stop him? I thought he was our friend?”

  “He is, sweetheart. Dillon’s probably confused.”

  “About what?”

  How did Ella explain what was wrong with a child when the grown-ups he looked to for role models had acted even more immaturely than any of his friends? When she next saw Jackson, she fully planned on giving him a piece of her mind. For a man who supposedly loved her, he sure had a funny way of showing it.

  “YOUR FATHER seemed to have a nice time at his party, don’t you think?” Though she still slept in the guest bedroom, Julie had made herself at home in the master bath. Seated on the bench in front of the vanity, she brushed her long hair, then put it in a ponytail for the night.

  “Were you at the same party?” he asked, perching on the edge of the oversize soaking tub.

  “That little spat with Ella was nothing.” Dabbing cream under her eyes, she added, “I’ll bet in the morning he sends her flowers to apologize.”

  Jackson shook his head. “When hell freezes over will my father change positions on this.”

  “Please don’t take this the wrong way,” she said, “but maybe it’s best you found out now that Ella and your family don’t exactly fit. I know your mom was furious when Ella’s boys presented Walter with a sack full of candy. And Liam—”

  “Knock it off.” Jackson rose, shooting her a condemning stare. “What you’re doing is awfully transparent. I thought you were above petty tactics like this.”

  “Tactics? Honey, all I did was try to play the role of a welcoming hostess. Any altercations your girlfriend found herself in were entirely of her own making.”

  “Ella’s not my girlfriend, she’s—”

  “What?” Julie snapped, spinning around on the small, satin-covered bench. “Please, Jackson, tell me exactly what that woman is to you, other than a person trying to tear our family apart? Nobody likes her. Least of all, our son.”

  As much as Jackson wanted to rail against his ex for trash-talking Ella, the sad fact of the matter was that she was right. His family hadn’t liked her. But had they even given her a chance? Liam had always had a soft spot for Julie, making him firmly in her camp. His dad had always been a bear—meaning, he didn’t like anyone. As for his mother, she was from another era when women did as their husbands told them. A fact of life he now realized he’d never be able to change.

  “Jackson,” Julie said, voice soothing, “I’m sorry if tonight didn’t go as you’d planned. Your dad’s always been…” she made a face “…unpredictable.”

  “That’s putting it politely.”

  She came to him, curving her fingers around his shoulders. “No matter what you decide in regard to Ella, you have to know I love you. I dearly love our son, as do you. Together again, we could set the world on fire.” She kissed him—barely. Just grazing her lips against his.

  “Julie…” Hadn’t he made it clear the last time they’d spoken he had no intention of hooking back up?

  “It’s all right,” she said, kissing him deeper. “I’m good with the fact that for the time being our reunion is one-sided. All I’m asking for, Jackson, is a chance. I can handle the fact that it might be a slim one. I can’t handle that it may be nonexistent.”

  He was tired. So very freakin’ tired of fighting her. His son. Most of all, his heart. Reuniting with Julie would be so easy. Make the vast majority of people in his life happy. He’d once loved Julie heart and soul. Who knew? Maybe, in time, he could grow to love her again?

  An image of Ella flashed before his mind’s eye. A knot of tension grew over how much he adored her now. But was that enough? Could he handle being as distant from Dillon as Liam was from his children? What if Julie did decide to fight for custody? Bottom line, Jackson would die before losing his son. A fact that didn’t leave him a whole lot of options.

  ELLA DEBATED whether to phone Jackson after the party, but decided against it. In regard to his not defending her against his father, she’d give him the benefit of the doubt. She was sometimes weird around her parents. Old relationship patterns died hard.

  She’d tucked in the twins, then moved on to Rose who’d already been asleep for the better part of an hour, but that was all right, as Ella’s sole purpose for being in the moonlit room was just to look at her. Drink her in: her perfect tiny fingers and toes, the elegant sweep of her eyelashes against chubby cheeks, the way her rosebud mouth suckled after every two or three exhalations.

  Fitting her fingers to the crown of the infant’s head, Ella realized with a frightening intensity just how much she’d grown to love the baby girl. Somewhere along the line, her feelings for Jackson and this wee one had intertwined until her adoration of both had grown to the point that she didn’t know what she’d do without them. The secret prayer in her heart was that she’d never have to find out.

  The phone rang.

  Ella gave Rose’s rump a pat before jogging to pick up the bedroom extension. Only, when she got there, the line was dead.

  Checking the caller ID, she noticed Jackson had been on the other end of the line. Figuring he must’ve gotten disconnected, she sat on the edge of the bed, pulse pounding. Was he calling to apologize?

  But the longer she waited, the longer the bedroom’s silence closed in around her. The ticking of the alarm clock, the barking of the neighbor’s basset hound, the drip from the shower faucet she’d been meaning to have fixed.

  Ella woke eight hours later, still wearing her dress from the night before, Rose wailing in the adjoining nursery that had been the twins’ before she’d taken it over.

  “The baby’s awake,” Oliver said, hovering over the crib.

  “Why didn’t you pick her up?” Ella asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

  He shrugged.

  She shook her head.

  Kids. Had it really only been the previous night she�
��d wondered what she’d do without them?

  Ella changed Rose, then traipsed down to the kitchen to get the baby and the boys fed. That task completed, she left Rose in Owen’s hands, then dashed upstairs for a quick shower. Odds were, Jackson would be over bright and early to apologize and she wanted to look her best.

  Wearing white capris and a pale-blue tank that showed off her tan, she’d blow-dried her hair and brushed it into soft waves, leaving it loose and flowing down her back. After adding a little makeup and cute white sandals, she practically skipped back downstairs. Laughing, she swept Rose from Owen’s arms and twirled her around.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Oliver asked over a blaring Barney tape they hadn’t watched in years. Ella hadn’t even known they still had it.

  “Not a thing,” she said, kissing Rose’s cheek. “Is it wrong for me to be happy?”

  “I don’t guess so.” Oliver plopped back down on the cream-colored carpet, intent on watching the show.

  “I thought Barney was only for babies?” she asked.

  “It is,” Owen said with a put-upon sigh, “but Rose likes it.”

  “Oh,” Ella said with a nod. “Of course she does. You two are clever to have found that out. If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen.”

  “What’re you doing, Mom?”

  “I don’t know about you guys, but I could use some homemade cookies.”

  When the sun-flooded kitchen smelled rich with the aroma of still-warm chocolate-chip-and-peanut-butter cookies, finally a knock sounded.

  A glance in that direction showed Jackson standing behind the mullioned back door.

  Although she had been excited at the thought of seeing him, tension now knotted her stomach. He was here to apologize, right? Because if he wasn’t, she wasn’t sure how to handle him. She’d be furious, but she was really more in the mood for kissing than fighting.

  “Hey,” he said, not waiting for her to open the door.

  “Hey, yourself.” As upset as she’d been the night before, seeing him again swelled her heart with love. Holding grudges had never been her strong suit, and this time was no different. He surely had his reasons for his abnormal behavior. Which was why he was here. To explain—and, of course, apologize.

  Tossing her arms around his neck, she clutched him to her. He hugged her back, squeezing her almost uncomfortably tight.

  “We need to talk.”

  “I know,” she said. “I made cookies. Want ice cream to go with them?”

  “You’re too good to me,” he said, voice raspy as he kissed her forehead instead of her lips.

  “Nah…Just in the mood for sweets. Come on,” she took his hand, leading him toward the stairs. “We’ll talk in my room. It’ll be more private. Then we’ll eat.”

  “O-okay.”

  Upstairs, Ella sat on the foot of the bed, patting the empty spot beside her. “You know the real reason I invited you up here, don’t you?”

  “No.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I wanted to steal a few kisses out of sight of a certain set of twins.”

  Jackson remained silent, not meeting her gaze.

  “Jackson, what’s wrong?”

  He cleared his throat and peered out the window with his hands tucked firmly into the front pockets of his jeans.

  “Ell…Geez, where do I start?”

  She again patted the bed.

  “Thanks. But for this, I need to stand.” He not only stood, but began to pace.

  That nervous tension in her stomach? It worsened.

  “Last night was a disaster.”

  “No kidding,” she said with a biting laugh.

  “But it did serve a purpose.”

  “Making me feel like crap had a purpose?” Though she had been feeling sentimental and forgiving, that last line left her just plain mad. “I’m ready for my apology, Jackson. Now.”

  “I am sorry, Ell. I’m sorry for my father’s boorish behavior. For my brother’s and mother’s and Julie’s and Dillon’s, but most of all, for mine. I should’ve defended you, but…”

  “It’s okay,” she said, standing to hug him, letting him know she understood. Sort of. Lucky for him, he had a lifetime to make it up to her. As for his family, she supposed there were lots of tension-filled in-laws out there. She’d live through it. They all would, and be stronger for having done it.

  “No, it’s far from okay,” he said, giving her a gentle nudge.

  “Ell, I came to some hard realizations last night. No—impossible realizations. The worst part is that all along, you were right. We have no business being together.”

  What? No, no, no…This speech couldn’t be leading where she feared.

  “Liam set me straight on so many things. Most importantly, that as a father, I have to put Dillon first.”

  “Of course you do,” she said. “I’m not asking you for anything else.”

  “Don’t you get it? To put him first means reuniting him with his mother.”

  She struggled for composure. “I’ve been telling you that for weeks. You were the one saying Dillon would get over it. That he could still be close to Julie and to me. Make up your mind, Jackson. You can’t have it both ways.”

  “No one knows that more than me,” he said, raising his arms as if wanting to hold her, but he didn’t. A good thing, seeing how she never wanted to see him again—let alone touch him. “Which is why I have to marry Julie. I have to. Please understand.”

  “I understand, all right,” she said, turning her back on him to stare out the window. “I understand I was a fool ever to have trusted you.”

  “Don’t say that,” he begged, hovering behind her. “I do love you. I’ll always love you. But as a father, I have to love my son more.”

  “I get that,” she said, crossing her arms. “You’ve made your point clear.

  “I never meant to hurt you.”

  “Please, go.”

  “Ell…”

  “Please, Jackson.” She squeezed her stinging eyes shut. “I understand, and there’s nothing else left to say.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Friday night, five days after he’d broken things off with Ella, Jackson sat in the Key Elementary cafeteria, staring at three bingo cards. It was Pizza Bingo Night—another big fundraiser. Dillon sat to his left, alongside his mom. The kid hadn’t stopped smiling since Julie had arrived just in time to pick him up from school.

  Rose and Ella and a bunch of her PTA mom friends sat four tables over—the twins were with classmates. The stress of her proximity was about to do him in. Or was it the cloistering heat? The approximately eight thousand parents and kids crammed into the small space? Or maybe the stale pepperoni he’d downed with three of those pint-size kid cartons of milk? Regardless, he was in a bad way, and couldn’t wait to get the heck out of there.

  “You all right?” Julie asked, leaning past their son. “Your color’s off.”

  “B-3,” Farrah Benton from Channel Six Action News called out. Marcia Jenkins took great pride in landing local celebrities for this big event. “The next number is B-3.”

  “I’m good,” he said, marking two of his cards.

  “You don’t look good.” She only marked one of her cards.

  “Did the pizza make you sick? Because it sure made me sick.”

  “Yeah,” he mumbled, wishing that was the extent of his problems. If only he had a crystal ball to tell him if he’d made the right decision. Looking at Dillon’s bright eyes he had to believe he had. But the dread in the pit of his stomach every time he thought of spending the next fifty or so years with Julie was getting hard to bear. He loved her, but in a she-bore-my-child kind of way. When she’d left him and Dillon without a single thought about how badly something like that would hurt, his passionate love for her was over. The trauma their son had faced, and the many nights Jackson and Ella had held him while he’d cried had frozen the part of his heart once devoted to Julie.

  Now, there was no going back.

  He was
trying though.

  For Dillon’s sake, no matter how bad it personally hurt, he had to make a new life with Julie work.

  “I-17. Repeating, the next number is I-17.”

  Across the room, he caught Ella’s gaze.

  She hastily looked away.

  “Hey, look!” Dillon cried, pointing to a tall, thin girl who stood against the rear wall. She had long, dark hair and wore faded jeans and a red T-shirt. At the moment, she was staring at Rose, who Ella had out of her carrier. The baby had fallen asleep, resting her head on Ella’s shoulder. “That’s the lady who cried holding Rose at the yard sale.”

  “You sure?” Jackson asked.

  “Yep.” Dillon nodded vigorously. “See that mole thingie next to her lips? Me and Owen think it looks like a—”

  “Dillon,” Julie scolded. “It’s not nice to talk about people’s appearances. Now, as your father asked, are you sure that’s the lady? Because if it is, Daddy’s friend wants to talk to her.”

  “It is,” the boy said, bouncing on his seat. “Promise.”

  “Be right back,” Jackson said. “I’m going to get Hank.”

  LOOKING AT her baby always made her want to cry. She should’ve been happy, knowing her baby was content, but it really just made her miss Rose all the more.

  Many times she’d thought about what she’d do if she did get her baby back. She’d thought about taking Rose home to the farmhouse where she lived with her grandmother and dad. They’d be furious with her. Consumed with shame.

  She knew even in coming here again, she was taking a risk of being caught, but that couldn’t be helped. She had to see Rose just one more time. If only she could hold her. Tell how much she loved her, and—

  “Excuse me, ma’am?”

  She looked up to see a tall man standing beside her. Her first instinct was to run, but her heart beat so fast, she felt frozen in place.

  “B-12,” the glamorous bingo caller said with a Hollywood-white smile. “The next number is B-12.”

  “Ma’am, my name is Hank Norman, and I’m the local sheriff.” He flashed a badge. “Would you mind stepping into the vestibule for a moment while I ask you a few questions?”