by Beth Yarnall
She was late picking up her daughter. She’d had to work an extra half hour to make up the time she’d taken to go all the way to downtown Dallas to Cal’s office on what had turned out to be a fool’s errand.
A car she didn’t recognize sat in the driveway. Maybe one of her mother’s friends was here for a visit. She angled out of the driver’s seat and came up the drive instead of the walk so she could check out the car. Nothing on the seats or dash gave away anything other than it being a rental. She didn’t like this one bit. A prickling at her nape had her quickening her steps. All she could think of was getting to Poppy and making sure her daughter was okay.
She opened the door—not bothering to knock—and went right on in. Her mother came up off the couch, no doubt with a reprimand on the tip of her tongue, but Lucy didn’t give her a chance to spew it.
“Where’s Poppy?”
“That’s not the way—”
“Where’s my daughter?” Panic crawled all over her. “Where is Poppy?”
“Right here.”
Lucy turned to see Kevin Walker, the no-good, rotten, polygamist bastard she’d thought she’d married, holding her daughter.
The last time she’d seen him he’d been standing over her, screaming obscenities, while she tried not to move or do anything to provoke him further. His anger was a near-tangible thing that whipped out and lashed at her, turning her handsome husband into an out-of-control monster who terrified her.
Kevin smiled as though he had every right in the world to be there. He didn’t. She had a restraining order out on him for God’s sake. He wasn’t supposed to go within five hundred feet of her home or work, but it looked like he’d found a way around that—her mother.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, trying to keep her voice even and not scream like she wanted to so she didn’t scare Poppy. “You don’t have visitation rights.”
“Well.” Her mother, Nadine, stepped forward. “I thought it would be good for Poppy to spend some time with her daddy. A girl needs her daddy.”
A girl didn’t need a lying, cheating, scary-assed bastard of a daddy. Lucy would know. Her own daddy had been just like Kevin.
“What Poppy needs,” Lucy said, walking over and prying her daughter away from Kevin, “is for Kevin to follow the rules the court set out. There’s a reason he’s not allowed to be around us, Mother.”
Poppy started to fuss, putting her fist in her mouth. She must’ve sensed the tension in the air. Lucy held Poppy to her and nearly gagged when she smelled Kevin’s after-shave on her baby.
“I have a right to see my child,” Kevin had the nerve to declare. “Prepare to be served. I’m taking Poppy back to Utah to live with me.”
What in the hell had she ever seen in him? He’d been charming and she’d been hurting and then before she knew it she was standing at the front of the church next to a man she hardly knew. She’d gotten a good taste of the real him a few short hours after they’d been married. He’d accused her of looking at Cal like she should’ve been looking at him, and he’d hit her. He knew how to do it, striking where the bruises wouldn’t show.
He sure had been convincing about where the blame lay—with her. It was her fault he got so angry. Her fault she wasn’t the kind of wife he expected her to be. Her fault she got hurt. And she believed him. She’d burned every bridge she had by quitting her job and distancing herself from her friends, too ashamed to let them know what her life had become.
“The hell you are,” Lucy shot back. “I have the police reports and photos that will keep you from ever getting your hands on her.”
“Lucy, watch your language,” her mother admonished, her pale, watery eyes pleading. “Have some respect for your husband.”
Nadine had been a beauty once. Lucy used to love looking at pictures of her mother before she’d married her father. Living with Larry had chewed Nadine up from the inside out. Covering for him and pretending nothing was wrong had worn away her softness, leaving behind a woman on the edge of brittle. The invisible nicks and scars from years of abuse had whittled her down to the point where Lucy hardly recognized her mother as the person in those old photos.
I could’ve been her. I almost was her.
“I have your mother’s blessing and a new lawyer who’s a shark. You don’t stand a chance against me.”
Lucy looked at her mother and knew what Kevin said was true. Nadine had been harping on Lucy to get back together with Kevin so that Poppy could have a real family, not a broken one. Her mother had always been the keep-the-family-together type. No matter how many times Nadine’s husband, Larry, had come home drunk reeking of perfume and alcohol, Nadine always put him to bed as if he was the long-lost king come home.
Now Kevin had charmed Nadine just the way Larry had. She didn’t see past the good looks and good manners to the soul of the man who’d nearly put her own daughter in the hospital more than once. It had taken Lucy too long to realize that by marrying Kevin she’d repeated her mother’s history. That wasn’t what she wanted for her daughter or for herself.
“I will fight you with everything I have in me,” Lucy swore. “You are not taking my daughter anywhere, and you are certainly not leaving the state with her.”
Kevin’s eyes went cold, and his hands balled into fists the way they always did right before he struck her. Lucy standing up to him was new, and she could tell he didn’t like it. If her mother wasn’t in the room, Lucy would be on the floor.
Poppy was sobbing now. Lucy patted her back and tried to soothe her, but her own insides were a tangled mass. She believed Kevin. He would take her daughter by any means, and he would make Lucy pay for her insolence.
“She’s my daughter too,” Kevin said. “You’re gone all day working. Nadine is a terrific grandma, but Poppy needs a mother. She needs to be cared for in her own home, not shuttled back and forth between caregivers. My wife—”
“And which wife would that be, hmm? Wife number one or two? Maybe it’s wife number three.”
“She doesn’t mean that, Kevin.” Nadine had the nerve to back him and not her own daughter. And then she took it further, making Lucy the bad guy here. “He’s your husband. I know you’ve gone through some rough times—”
“Rough times? He has three wives. And he beat me, mother. Beat me.”
Nadine worried her hands, glancing from Kevin to Lucy and back again. “Lucy, please. Listen to him. I know the two of you could work things out if you’d just be a little more understanding.”
“I’ve cleared my legal troubles. I know I wasn’t always the best husband to you, Lucy, but I love you, and I want to make it work with you. Maybe go to counseling. I want us to be a family again. I’ll do anything to get you back, Lucy. Anything.”
“You see,” Nadine continued. “He loves you.”
Lucy knew he meant it too. He would do anything to get her back, including turning her mother against her and taking her daughter from her. She’d never be free of him, free from his threats. He would keep chasing her like he’d chased her from room to room of their house, hitting and screaming at her. It would never stop.
“No.” Lucy gripped her daughter tighter. It wasn’t going to work this time. He wasn’t going to sweet-talk her into forgiving him as she’d done too many times before. “Get out.” She pointed at the door. “Get out right now!”
She’d hidden the worst from her mother, from everyone. And then she’d gotten her and her daughter out of that hellhole. She was never going back, and she sure as hell was never going to let her daughter be raised in a home like the one she grew up in.
“This is my house, and I say who stays and who goes,” Nadine said.
“Fine.” Lucy shook, her face hot, her heart racing. “I’ll leave.” She grabbed Poppy’s diaper bag from the chair and headed for the door.
“This isn’t the last of it,” Kevin threatened. “I will be back for Poppy and for you. I want my family with me, and I always get what I want, Lucy. Remember that.”
Lucy ran down the front steps as though Kevin would reach out and rip Poppy from her arms. She believed him. He’d do anything to get what he wanted.
She bundled Poppy into her car seat and then took off down the street without buckling her own belt. It wasn’t until she got to the light and checked her rearview mirror that she put her seat belt on. She almost expected to find Kevin in his car behind her. It had been more than six months since she’d seen him, and he terrified her more now than when she’d been with him. She knew what it would be like to go back. How small her and Poppy’s world would be.
There was no way she was ever going to let her daughter grow up the way she had. Walking in on her father screwing the next-door neighbor on their dining room table and the beating she’d gotten from him not to tell. It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d told her mother or not. Nadine wouldn’t have believed her and would’ve punished her for lying. Lucy was always the one who paid to keep their family together.
Until the night when Lucy was fourteen and Larry had been killed in a car accident that was entirely his fault. Two other people died that night because Larry got drunk and decided to drive to see his girlfriend in Garland. After that it was just Lucy and her mother, who never really got over the loss of the husband she adored.
That was when Lucy started spending afternoons with her maternal grandma, Poppy, who she adored so much she’d named her daughter after her. Baby Poppy even had strawberry-blonde hair like her namesake.
At a light, Lucy glanced back at her daughter in her car seat. She’d fallen asleep with her finger in her mouth and tears still clinging to her eyelashes. The sight just about broke Lucy’s heart. She’d done her best to care for her precious baby and support them financially. Her best wasn’t good enough. She was faced with losing their apartment because she couldn’t afford the raise in rent next month, and she couldn’t afford to move. Kevin was back threatening to take Poppy away, and now she’d lost the only babysitter she could afford on her salary—her mother.
As if sensing Lucy was nearly to her breaking point, both the check-engine light and gas light came on at the same time. She dropped her head on the steering wheel and burst into tears.
*****
Cal poured himself a whiskey neat, propped his bare feet on his desk in his home office, and turned on the TV to the business report. He turned the volume up to drown out the rain beating against the windows. This was the way he wound down most of his days. He hadn’t been the hell-raiser the local papers accused him of being for several years now, but that didn’t mean he’d lost the title. Once pigeonholed, the press seemed to look for ways to make it stick. Especially when you were as successful and rich as Cal was.
Oh, he’d more than earned his reputation—had the tattoo on his ass to prove it—but he wasn’t that guy anymore. There’d been a time when he’d thought up ways to get in the newspaper or on TV. When his business had been as young as he was. But he knew better now, made better choices, and had grown his business empire into something he could be proud of.
The Pleasure at Home shopping show for adult toys had started out as a lark, a way to snub his nose at conventional business. He owned the TV station, why not put whatever he wanted on it? Over the years it had grown into a very steady, very lucrative source of income.
And that was how he’d met Lucy. He couldn’t help grinning at the memory even now. The first time he’d seen her she was tail up in an exceptionally short skirt, trying to find something under the couch on the set for Pleasure at Home. Rounded hips, rounded ass, and long legs that ended in stilettos. She’d popped up, flipping back her long blonde hair, holding a vibrating bullet that had slipped out of one of the products.
Pink cheeked with a wide smile, she’d stolen his breath like a mule kick to the chest. And then she’d spoken, asking him if he’d enjoyed the view. She’d called him cowboy with a wink and adjusted her skirt, and he didn’t think he’d ever seen a woman more beautiful in his life.
After that he’d set about trying to woo her, breaking his number-one rule—he didn’t date, mess with, or sleep with his employees. Ever. But as soon as he’d laid eyes on Lucy he’d wanted to do every single one of those things with her, personal rule be damned.
It had taken nearly two years and a lot of effort, but he’d eventually won her over. The next couple of months had been the most interesting, frustrating, and exciting of his entire life. Then he’d gone and screwed everything up. He’d tried to tell her he was sorry, that it was a stupid, careless mistake, but Lucy would have nothing to do with his explanations or with him after that.
He only had himself to blame. After years of cultivating a debauched reputation and allowing the rumors about him to go unanswered, he’d paid the price and lost Lucy. When she’d stumbled into his office today, he couldn’t help but feel like maybe this was the redemption he’d earned by trying to reinvent himself ever since she’d walked out.
He swirled the last swallow of whiskey around in his glass and then downed it in one burning gulp. If she wasn’t going to take him up on his offer, he’d have to find another way back into her life.
The doorbell rang, startling him out of his thoughts. Whoever it was had bypassed his front gate. Very few of his friends had the gate code and the kind of relationship with him that they could come over unannounced. Must be his good friend Lucas Vega, dropping by with a report on Lucy’s ex. Lucas’s security firm was the only one he trusted with this kind of job. It had to be bad news for him to show up at—Jesus—nearly ten o’clock at night in the pouring rain.
Cal turned on the porch light and opened the door to a sight he’d never thought he’d see again—Lucy, here, at his home. She was soaked, her hair and clothes plastered to her. How long had she been standing there? Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen as if she’d been crying. Her car idled in the drive behind her. Whatever she’d come for, she wasn’t staying.
She lifted her chin and flipped the wet strands of her hair back over one shoulder. Damn if she wasn’t beautiful, standing there dripping on his porch, defeated yet defiant.
“All right,” she said, lip quivering. “I’ll marry you.”
CHAPTER THREE
Lucy turned and started back down the steps away from him. This was wrong. This was all wrong.
“Lucy, wait.”
She wouldn’t wait, she kept on going, and so he followed her barefoot out into the rain.
“Hold up.” He got to her just as she reached for the handle of her car door and gripped her arm to keep her from opening it. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
She jerked out of his grasp and spun around to face him. “I said I’d marry you. What more do you want?”
“I want to know what’s got you so upset.”
“Does it really matter?”
“Hell yes, it matters.”
“There wasn’t anything in your offer that said we had to confide in each other. I agreed to your terms. You’re going to get what you want—a wife—isn’t that enough?”
He reached for her again. She flinched as though he’d hit her. What the hell? He put his palms up to show he wouldn’t try to touch her. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, clearly embarrassed at her overreaction.
Something or someone had her spooked, and he’d bet it had to do with her son-of-a-bitch ex. He took half a step back and gentled his tone. “Come inside and dry off. Let’s talk about this.”
She looked for a moment like she might agree, glancing up at the house and then back at him. “It’s late, and I already said all I came to say.”
“Where would you like to do it?”
“Do what?”
“Get married. And when? We need to set a date.”
“Does it matter? This is all your deal.” She paused, looking away and then back. “Soon. I think it should be soon.”
“Okay. We can do it as soon as you like. Why don’t you come inside, and we can work it out?”
“Poppy’s
supposed to be asleep. It’s past her bedtime.”
“I’d like to meet her. Show her where she’ll be living.”
“She’s only eight months old. She’s not going to be impressed by how lavish your house is.”
He cracked a half smile. She was starting to sound more like the Lucy he knew.
“Well, I don’t know. She might think the new media room is kinda cool.”
“And you think she’s gonna care how big your screen is?”
“Maybe. I’ve been told it’s quite impressive.”
Her laugh rumbled through him, deep throated and so damn sexy. “All right. I guess we can come in for a little while.”
“Hang on. Stay right there.” He jogged up the front steps and grabbed an umbrella from the stand just inside the front door. Returning, he was relieved to find she hadn’t moved.
He popped open the umbrella. “For Poppy,” he explained. “So she doesn’t get wet.”
She eyed him as though she was trying to decide if he was for real or not. Again he wondered what the hell had happened with her since he’d seen her earlier that day. Whatever it was had driven her to him, and for that he couldn’t help but feel grateful. At the same time it pissed him off. Someone had messed with her.
He held the umbrella over her as she unhooked the baby from her seat. She wrapped her in a blanket and reached for a big bag, which he took from her. He walked up the steps with her, protecting them from the rain. Motioning her into the house, he followed her inside. He dealt with the umbrella and closed the door to find her examining him like there was something wrong with him, but she couldn’t make out what it was.
“Go on in to the living room. I’ll grab some towels and be right back.”
He waited until she started that direction to run upstairs. She looked so lost he wasn’t sure if she’d stay or bolt. He made it back downstairs in record time, out of breath and glad to find her standing in the middle of the room as though she wasn’t sure what to do with herself.
