by Judy Duarte
“What about when he was older?” she asked.
“I saw him from time to time, as often as my deployments would allow. But when he was about two, Kelly—his mom and my ex—started giving me a hard time whenever I asked to come and visit. She said my presence was confusing him.”
“Was it?”
He shrugged. “Justin seemed shy and distant when I came around. I don’t know much about kids, but maybe my visits were stressing him out.” He took a deep breath and blew it out. “And to be honest, it was stressing me out, too. Justin was only two, but he’d already started calling her husband Daddy.”
“So you stopped visiting?”
“I did what I thought was best for my son.”
“Maybe things have changed. Maybe she’d be more agreeable to you visiting now.”
He hoped so, but he doubted it. When Justin was four, he’d tried again. He’d called Kelly and asked to take Justin for a weekend, and she’d flipped out and started bawling. Then she’d threatened to fight him, just like Caitlin had said she’d do if Zack Henderson wanted to be a part of Emily’s life.
Are you out of your mind? Kelly had shrieked. You can’t come waltzing into our lives like this. He doesn’t even know you.
But he’s my son, Brett had countered. And I was given the right to reasonable visitation.
I’m not going to agree to that now. I can’t. I won’t.
When he tried to remind her that Justin was his son, she’d cursed a blue streak, told him to talk to her lawyer, then slammed down the phone.
The mention of courts and attorneys turned his gut inside out, and he’d decided to stay away. To give Justin time to grow up.
“She sounds unfair, if not unstable.”
“Only when it comes to talking and compromising with me. So I’ve stayed out of Justin’s life, rather than put him through the fights and the legal hell I went through as a kid.”
“This is different.” Caitlin pulled her hand from his, severing their connection. Then she crossed her arms and sat back in her chair. “I’m not fighting to protect my selfish interests, like your parents did or like your ex-wife is doing. I’m fighting for Emily.”
“I know it’s different. But it’s the fighting, the court crap. The arguments.”
“You didn’t have to worry about your son’s safety and well-being when you chose to let his mother raise him alone.”
“You’re right. His mother and I may have had more than our fair share of differences and heated arguments, but I never had to worry about Justin being cared for.” He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts, to explain his position. “But I still believe adults need to compromise when it comes to sharing their children.”
“You’re asking me to find some kind of middle ground with a convicted felon, a guy who robbed a convenience store, a guy whose friend shot a man in the back. A criminal who shouldn’t be trusted to be alone with Emily, let alone be allowed to raise her in his household.”
A toilet flushed, alerting them that they were no longer alone in the house.
“We can talk about this later,” Brett said. “I’d like to leave before she finds us together. I don’t want her getting the idea that I spent the night.”
“That’s probably for the best.” Caitlin stood and walked him to the door.
He bent to kiss her, and she offered her cheek.
Whatever intimacy they’d shared last night was over. And he ought to be glad. This was just the kind of thing he’d always tried to avoid.
“I’ll talk to you later,” he said.
She nodded, then closed the door and let him walk out of her home, out of her life.
He ought to run like hell, to thank his lucky stars that he’d gotten out of there by the skin of his teeth.
But for some damn reason, he felt more trapped than ever.
Chapter Ten
One more time in Caitlin’s arms, one more night in her bed, and Brett would be toast.
What had gotten into him?
Not only had he made love with a single mom, a woman who was fighting for custody of her child, but he’d spent the entire night with her. Why hadn’t he slipped away after the first time they’d made love?
He stood under the hot, pulsating shower, letting the water pound into him. But he didn’t feel a damn bit refreshed. Or relieved that he’d escaped.
Instead, he felt like a jerk for the way things had ended this morning—and for more reasons than that.
First of all, there was the sex, which had been incredible—the best he’d ever had, actually. But it complicated things big time.
As the steam filled the shower stall, his mental vision seemed to clear. And as much as he hated to admit it, hated to contemplate the ramifications, he’d enjoyed sleeping with Caitlin and waking in her arms. And now, after the loving and the intimacy they’d shared, he regretted getting in so deep, especially because of the pending court case.
But it was more than a reminder of the crap he’d dealt with as a child and his determination to stay out of a similar situation that bothered him. It was the damn fear he didn’t like admitting to—his fear of facing Kelly, of asking to see his son and having her threaten to take him to court.
Yet there was an even bigger fear. What if Kelly actually agreed to regular visitation, and Brett bombed at being a father?
Of course, he hadn’t wanted Caitlin to know that. So he’d used the excuse of Emily finding them together to hurry home, to bail out of the emotional quagmire he’d gotten into.
And that’s just what this whole damn mess felt like—a swampy bog of quicksand that threatened to pull him under.
He grabbed the towel from the rack and dried off, then slipped on a pair of jeans and a shirt. He’d used deodorant out of habit, but since he didn’t feel like being more than a hermit today, he didn’t bother shaving.
Maybe he ought to hole up with the cats, find a ballgame on TV. Or better yet, he ought to take a nap, since he hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, not after sleeping with Caitlin, who’d been able to turn him inside out with only a smile, a skim of her fingers, a catch of her breath.
Oh, for cripes sake. Get over it, Tanner.
A meow wound through the doorway of the bedroom, where Fred had just parked his furry butt. He meowed again, as though trying to say something in cat-language.
“What’s the matter, buddy?”
The cat merely looked at him with an ain’t-life-the-pits expression.
“Did those kittens annoy you again?” Brett scooped the cat into his arms and carried him to the living room, where Fluffy chased Princess to the top of the carpet-covered tower. He stroked Fred’s head, taking time to fondle his ear—something he’d realized the cat really liked. “Why don’t you and I go have a cup of coffee. I’ve got a lot of stuff to work through.”
Once in the kitchen, he set Fred on the tile floor and gave him a kitty treat before measuring out coffee grounds and brewing a pot that didn’t taste anywhere near as good as Caitlin’s had.
Damn. He had to break free of that death grip she had on him before it was too late.
Of course, that didn’t mean he didn’t care about her or about what she was going through. Nor did it mean he liked the idea of an ex-con coming into contact with Emily. Zack could very well be using his parenthood as a ploy to convince the parole board he planned to become an upstanding citizen.
But Brett got a knot in his gut when he thought of a guy just wanting to see his kid. Especially since, in this case, he found himself identifying—at least a little—with Zack.
Maybe it was the fact that he and Zack had so much in common. They’d both been kids who’d rebelled as a means to deal with a crappy childhood. Hell, if Harry hadn’t stepped in, Brett might have ended up in jail, too. So maybe that’s why he had a hard time seeing Zack as just some big bad criminal.
Guys made mistakes.
Besides, Brett couldn’t blame the man for wanting to be a part of Emily’s life—if Z
ack was sincere.
And Brett sure as heck didn’t need a degree in psychology to know why he felt that way.
How would Kelly react if he asked to exercise his parental rights?
Flip out again and threaten to call an attorney, he supposed, just like she’d done the last time he’d tried to talk to her.
And just like Caitlin was doing now.
Why couldn’t parents put a kid’s best interest first?
Of course, in Caitlin’s case, he had to give her credit for having a legitimate reason for not wanting Zack Henderson to be a part of Emily’s life.
But Zack had paid his debt to society. What if he really wanted to start fresh and be a father to his daughter?
Brett wasn’t sure if there was anything he could do to help, unless it was learning what kind of man Zack had become.
And who better to ask than Harry?
He poured a cup of coffee, then picked up the phone and dialed the number he knew by heart.
The retired detective answered on the fourth ring.
“Hello, Harry. It’s Brett. I just wanted to thank you again for including us last night. We had a great time.”
“I’m glad you could make it.”
Brett paused for a moment, trying to segue into his question, but figured it was best just to blurt it out. “Hey, do you remember a guy named Zack Henderson?”
“Yeah. He’s at Riverview Correctional Facility, wrapping up a five-year sentence.”
“What do you know about him?”
“Before his arrest, I saw potential in him and tried to help. And for a while, I thought I’d reached him. He’d agreed to attend a barbecue down at the Bayside Marina one Saturday night about five years ago, but he failed to show up. I learned later that he and Ray Montalvo had been involved in an armed robbery at a convenience store.”
“What part did Zack play?”
“He swore up and down he was innocent, that he’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a classic defense and tough for a jury to accept. He and Montalvo had once been pretty tight.”
“Did you buy Zack’s story?”
“I’d really like to believe him. But Zack, by his own admission, had ridden in Montalvo’s car and was inside the convenience store when the robbery went down. They had him on tape, too.”
“So what do you think five years in prison have done to him?”
When Harry didn’t respond right away, Brett envisioned him running a hand along his receding hairline, a habit the older man favored when he contemplated something. “I haven’t seen Zack in nearly five years, but from what I heard from a buddy who works at the prison, he’s kept his nose clean. His uncle’s neighbor owns a construction company, and Zack plans to work for him.”
“Do you know anything about Zack having a daughter?”
“I knew he’d been dating a girl who’d gotten pregnant just before the robbery. He seemed concerned about how she’d get along with him behind bars, but I have to admit, I lost contact with him after that. I really don’t know how things panned out.”
Brett didn’t know how much of Caitlin’s plight to share with Harry. But he figured it wouldn’t hurt to have the retired detective in their corner.
Their corner? Oh for cripes sake. Talking to Harry about Emily’s father was about as involved as Brett wanted to get in this mess.
But he still had a few questions that needed answers. “From what I understand, the young woman was fatally shot in a drive-by shooting, and her baby was delivered by an emergency caesarian.”
“Hmmm. I wonder if that was Teresa Carmichael.”
“Who?”
“A young woman who’d become involved in the homeless shelter that Kay’s church supports. She was pregnant and waiting at a bus stop when the same thing happened to her.”
“That could be the same woman. But either way, Zack’s daughter is the little girl you met at the beach.”
“No kidding? She’s a beautiful child.”
“Caitlin has been Emily’s foster mother since birth.” Brett fiddled with the telephone cord. “She loves that little girl and wants to adopt her, but Zack won’t allow it.”
“That’s a tough situation for everyone involved, especially Emily.”
“Yeah, my sentiments exactly. You know how I feel about adults fighting over kids.”
“Yes, I do. And that reminds me. Have you seen Justin?”
Now Brett was the one running a hand over his forehead. “Not yet. After the last time I talked to Kelly, and now seeing how Caitlin is reacting to Zack, I’m not sure how to broach the subject again.”
Or whether he should talk to Kelly at all.
“That’s not the same thing,” Harry said. “You’re Justin’s father and have been supporting him financially for years. You also have court-ordered visitation.”
“Yeah. I know. Caitlin pointed out the same thing.” But Brett had a feeling she’d fight Zack for custody, even if he’d been at a seminary and studying for the ministry these past four or five years.
“Legally,” Harry said, “Kelly can’t keep you from Justin.”
“I know that. But I don’t want to have to go through the courts.”
Neither did he want to spend the rest of his life not knowing his son. It was a real catch-22.
Harry didn’t respond, so Brett added, “Maybe I’ll call Kelly in the next day or so.”
At least, that’s what he’d been telling himself ever since coming back to Bayside after his last tour of duty.
“I think that would be a good idea.”
“Yeah, well, I’d better go, Harry. I’ve got to feed the cats.” He used it as an excuse, even though Greg had one of those big canisters that kept the food coming each time the cats ate a couple of morsels.
After the line disconnected, Brett struggled with his options—at least as far as Caitlin went.
He wanted to do what was best for Emily. And without a doubt, she’d be better off with Caitlin as her mother. But her father had rights, too, and a compromise was the only way to go.
But Brett feared that Caitlin wasn’t going to budge, even if Zack agreed to an occasional weekend visitation. Not without a court order.
He had no idea what a court battle would do to Emily—not to mention what it would do to Caitlin, if she was ordered to give up her daughter.
And he’d be damned if he wanted to see Caitlin hurt. His pretty neighbor tugged at the heartstrings he’d thought had been knotted up for good.
Hey, how about that? For a guy who’d managed to avoid emotional entanglements in the past, he’d certainly gotten caught in a doozy.
Should he get out of the way?
Or back up Caitlin, going as far as sitting with her in court and offering her the money she needed for what might prove to be a long, expensive battle?
The answer should have been clear.
But it wasn’t.
By early afternoon, Brett had developed a severe case of cabin fever. His great escape had only boxed him in.
For some damn reason, he was compelled to talk to Caitlin, although he wasn’t exactly sure about what.
Their relationship, or whatever it was, he supposed.
And her situation with Emily.
As a furry scuffle broke out by the bookshelf, he turned to the orange tabby—wasn’t that the one named Princess?—peering out between the bushy leaves of a rhododendron like a lion in the jungle.
Crazy little cat.
She was hiding like some sly, tough guy.
Like Brett was, he realized, holed up in this damned condo.
Ah, hell. Enough of this crap.
He placed the television remote on the coffee table, next to a half-empty can of soda, then strode outside to go find Caitlin. It was time to talk.
The truth was, he didn’t like the way things had ended between them. And the sooner he faced her, the better.
But as he got halfway across the lawn that stretched between their condos, he saw her step out
of the Blackstone’s place and close the door. She was dressed in hospital garb and wearing white nurse’s shoes, so it was obvious she was heading off to work.
On Saturday?
He knew nurses didn’t have bankers’ hours, but she hadn’t said anything to him about working today. But then, why would she? It’s not as though they’d talked about the future.
“Do you have a minute?” he asked.
Her steps slowed, and she shot him a surprised look. Her lips parted, then she glanced at her watch. “Just a few. I’m going to the hospital to cover for a co-worker who’s sick.”
“I don’t like the way things ended between us yesterday.”
“Neither do I. But it’s okay. With the custody hearing coming up, I don’t think me having a relationship with you is in Emily’s best interests.”
“You’re probably right. And I’m not sure a relationship is in your best interests, either. I can be deployed at any time, and that doesn’t make for a very stable romance.”
“I understand.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and offered him an emotion-laden smile that was impossible to decipher. But rather than shrug it off, as he was accustomed to doing, he longed to know exactly what she was thinking, feeling. And that made no sense at all. Not if he was going to get out in one piece.
“Don’t worry about what happened last night,” she said. “It was just one of those things.”
Normally, he’d be the first to admit she was right. Sex was a healthy outlet, and one that didn’t need any emotional ties or encumbrances. And with her having that kind of attitude, he had an easy out.
But there was nothing easy about this damned relationship they’d tumbled into. Hell, the whole mess scared him senseless.
Maybe because the sex had been so damn good.
That had to be it.
“We satisfied our sexual curiosity,” she added. “There’s no harm in that.”
“It was more than sex,” he said, immediately wanting to suck the words back in his mouth. What the hell was he admitting?
She smiled, her cheeks taking on a pink tinge. “I’m glad you feel that way.”
What way?
He sure as hell didn’t know what was brewing in the far regions of his heart. Nor did he even want to think about it.
