Melting Into You (Due South Book 2)

by Tracey Alvarez

  “That’s not very friendly.”

  “We’re not friends, Marci.” He wanted to add more, but once again the brain-tongue connection refused to cooperate.

  Friends don’t keep catastrophic secrets from each other. Friends don’t spring a kid on you and then abandon that kid.

  “Hmmph.” She tossed her hair over one shoulder. “It’s my baby’s ninth birthday tomorrow. I wanted to be here to help her celebrate.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You’re not going to try to keep me from her, are you?” Her mascara-gunked eyes narrowed.

  “You left your baby.” The nuclear-reactor that was his temper crept into the red zone as he stepped out onto the porch. “You left her with a man you barely knew.”

  Marci’s gaze cut to the left, and she backed up a step, her ass hitting the suitcase’s handle. “You’re her father.”

  The tremor in her voice stopped him dead. He wasn’t a bully about to bail her up in the corner.

  “Mum?”

  Jade in the hallway behind him.

  Blood rushed in his head, dizzying him for a moment as he twisted around. A tiny part of him—yeah, right—a big part of him had hoped to send Marci away before Jade discovered she was here.

  Sparky flew past Jade’s legs, a yapping brown and white blur. The dog stopped in the doorway and growled low in her throat. Clever girl. Ben scooped up the dog before she could attack Marci’s ankles, but by God, the furball would get an extra biscuit in her bowl tonight.

  “Baby!” Marci ducked around him into the house. Clattering down the hallway, she grabbed Jade, squashing his daughter’s little face into her boobs. “Oh, Mummy missed you so much, sweetiepie! She weally, weally did.”

  Marci’s voice turned his stomach—like listening to a crazy cat-woman croon at one of her fur babies.

  As quickly as she’d grabbed Jade, Marci pried her daughter’s arms loose, her upturned nose crinkling. “Baby, you’re a teeny bit whiffy. When did you last have a bath?”

  She half turned and glared at him—the bad, neglectful father who’d let her “sweetiepie” run wild instead of being perfectly groomed.

  “Last night,” Jade said. “But Sparky and me were rolling around in the yard after school today.”

  “Oh!” Marci edged a little farther away from Jade. “How about I give you a bath before dinner?”

  Ben covered Sparky’s muzzle to prevent more enthusiastic licking and pinned his tongue between his teeth.

  Sure. Make yourself at home lady.

  “I can bath myself now.” Jade puffed out her chest. “And I can bath my dog too—though she doesn’t like it much.”

  “Her dog?” Marci directed the question at Ben, not Jade.

  Ben shrugged and placed Sparky on the floor.

  Go and pee on her shoes, girl, and I swear I’ll give you the rump steak in the fridge.

  “Sparky. Every kid should have a Sparky, right kiddo?”

  “Yeah, she loves me so much she once licked up some of my”—Jade cupped a hand to her mouth—“spew!” She dissolved into peals of laughter, which predictably sent Sparky into another high-pitched bark-fest.

  The corner of his lips quirked up, and he grinned down at her, catching a glimpse of Marci’s face in his peripheral vision. She looked like Sparky really had peed on her fancy shoes. The woman had no sense of humor. Now, Kezia—Kezia would’ve laughed with them.

  Suddenly, Ben needed to get out of his house. He needed to see Kez, hold her, and tell her about Marci’s unexpected visit. She’d know what to do—what to say. “Don’t be a stronzo and antagonize her, Ben” would top her list.

  So he’d do the casual and friendly act with Marci. For now.

  “Jade, why don’t you let your mum help you have a bath, okay?”

  Jade smiled at him uncertainly.

  “I’m making Dad eggs for dinner,” he added.

  Marci glanced at him. “What are Dad eggs?”

  “Eggs that are meant to be runny but aren’t, ‘cause Dad forgot about them and cooked them too long.”

  “Well, I can make you soft boiled eggs, the way you prefer them,” Marci said.

  Jade frowned at her. “It’s okay. I like Dad eggs best now.” Then she turned to Ben. “I’ll go put the bath on. Can I have bubbles?”

  “Why not—knock yourself out, kiddo.” After Jade had gone into the bathroom, he addressed Marci. “You mind if I take off for twenty minutes? I gotta a thing I need to do.”

  Marci cut him a sideways glance. “Sure. We’ll have a little chat when you get back though, ‘kay?”

  Yippee. A chat. His favorite thing. “Yeah. I’ll take the dog with me. Keep her out of your hair.”

  “I can’t believe you bought her a dog. She doesn’t like animals.”

  If his mouth dropped any lower, his jawbone would dislocate. Seriously? Was this woman for real? He clicked his fingers, and Sparky’s claws skittered across the floor as she hustled to his side.

  “Sparky’s a good dog.” He pulled a leash off the coat hook by the door. “And they needed each other.”

  Then he walked out of his house before he verbalized something only a stronzo would dare say out loud.

  ***

  Kezia poked her head into Zoe’s room. “I’ve got some weeding to do, then we’ll make some scones for a light dinner.”

  Zoe looked up, surrounded by Barbie dolls and what looked like an explosion in a Taiwanese clothing sweatshop. “Okay. And then the cupcakes for the party?”

  “Sure, bella.”

  Kezia walked down the hall, glancing at the bathroom door. She did not need to duck inside and check her panties. Again.

  Five days overdue now.

  With a gusty sigh, Kezia pulled on her rubber boots and went outside. She followed the narrow brick path to the rear of their little section, where she planned to plant spinach and maybe some cabbage. Tugging out fistfuls of weeds soothed a little of her restlessness, until footsteps on the bricks set her pulse racing. That she could identify him by his walk sent both a flash of heat and a prickle of concern through her.

  She straightened, shading her eyes, even though she’d slapped a wide-brimmed hat on her head before venturing outside. The sun’s glare hid Ben’s face, and light danced through his rumpled hair in a golden halo.

  “Afternoon.” Her gaze tracked behind him to where Sparky panted by the small patio table and chairs. “Jade’s not with you?”

  Ben’s glowing outline shook its head. “She’s at home.”

  Kezia backed into the shade of an old rata tree, caught the grim glint in his eyes as he joined her, the straight slash of his mouth.

  “Ben?” Her sun-warmed cheeks chilled, heart slamming into her ribs. “Is everything all right—?”

  He tossed her hat aside and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing tight enough to force a squeak from her lungs.

  She arched away. “Caro, what’s wrong?” The endearment slipped off her tongue before she could contain it.

  His gaze softened, and he released her. Blood rushed faster and faster in Kezia’s ears. Rock-hard jaw, a throbbing vein in his temple, definitely on edge.

  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Pulled them out again and scratched his neck. “Marci arrived on this afternoon’s ferry.”

  Ben couldn’t have shocked her more if he’d grabbed the garden hose and sprayed a jet of icy water in her face. The coldness seeped down from her brain and settled in a frosty ball close to her heart. “What’s she doing here? And, oh—she’s at your place, with Jade?”

  He nodded. “I’ve no idea why Marci’s here other than for Jade’s birthday. She’s helping Jade have a bath right now.”

  Playing the concerned mum. Hah! She couldn’t prevent her mouth from pulling into a wry twist, although nothing struck her as funny about Marci’s return.

  Her stomach coiled tight. “Is Jade upset by her mother turning up?” Like a bad penny, she wanted to add.

  “She handled it w
ell.” He ground out a humorless chuckle. “I expected Jade to revert to the little mouse she was when she first arrived, but she had quite a ‘tude going on—especially after Marci commented about her dog.”

  “Good for her.”

  Ben glanced at the house. “Yeah. Guess I’d better head home before Marci burns my house down trying to make Dad eggs.”

  “Not much of a walk for Sparky.” And if that comment was a giant hint for why he’d turned up at her place so soon after Marci arrived? So what? Sue her.

  “I didn’t leave the house to walk Sparky.”

  “No?”

  “I needed this.” He wrapped his hands around her upper arms, tugging her against him. “You. You’re the one who’s always saying a hug makes everything better.”

  Resting her cheek on the solid wall of his chest, she let his warmth and strength fill her from her rubber boots up. “Hugging me makes you feel better?”

  “Just looking at you makes me feel better, car-ro.”

  While Ben actually called her a “carriage,” and not his darling, her heart still did a crazy hip-hop routine.

  And oh, Lord. Here came the tears. They must’ve dripped out in a torrent, soaking through the cotton of his shirt, because he jerked away and cupped her jaw in his big hands.

  “Whoa—oh, crap. Sweetheart, what did I say?”

  She shook her head. Sunbeams sliced through the leaves, stabbing her eyes but not loosening her tongue. Ben didn’t need her worries heaped on his when he had that blonde-haired witch to deal with. She’d tell him about the pregnancy test later—once the damn thing arrived in the mail.

  “I’m just touched you came to tell me about Marci first.”

  He shot her a why are you crying about that? glance, but then the back door squeaked open, and Sparky exploded into joyful yipping.

  “Oh, hi, Sparky! Hi, Ben!”

  Zoe waved at them and unhooked Sparky’s leash from the chair leg. Girl and dog bounded along the path toward them.

  Kezia snatched up her hat and jammed it on, hoping the wide brim would hide her reddened eyes. She scooped up an armful of weeds and carried them to the corner of the garden.

  Behind her, Zoe chirped, “Are all of us kids staying tomorrow night?”

  “Yep, all six of you.”

  He paused, but Kezia didn’t turn around.

  “And Jade’s mum has just arrived, so she’ll be there too,” he added.

  “That’s nice.” Zoe’s voice lost its exuberance. “Well, we’re going to make a huge batch of cupcakes for the party.”

  “Yeah, that’ll be fun.” Ben’s voice contained all the forced enthusiasm of a man agreeing to an imaginary tea party complete with tiny porcelain tea cups.

  She shoved the last of the weeds into the compost bin and turned, her view of Ben limited to the neck down, thanks to her floppy hat. A muscle jumped in his crossed forearms, and as much as her pride resisted, she couldn’t help admire the man’s physique.

  She felt so safe, so protected from everything, being in his arms—Kezia hadn’t wanted to move, ever. He said he needed her. No man had ever needed her before. No man had told her that just holding her, looking at her, made him feel better.

  Zoe crouched on the path, oblivious to the tension around her, laughing as Sparky pranced and licked her bare knees. Ben’s booted foot began to tap. Zoe wasn’t going to make it easier for him by going inside the house. Thank goodness. She wouldn’t keep it together if she had to spend another minute alone with him, and he needed to focus on the Marci problem first.

  Ben bent and picked up his wriggling dog, expelling a lungful of air. “I’ll catch you later.”

  She didn’t know whether he looked at her again before walking away, as Kezia couldn’t bear to watch him leave. Pretending to rearrange the weeds in the compost bin, she called out to Zoe, “Go and wash up and get the baking ingredients out of the pantry.”

  Nothing good could come out of Marci being here. Nothing good for her, but more importantly, nothing good for Ben and Jade. Making cupcakes and scones were the last thing she felt like doing—but at least it would stop her from running after Ben.

  ***

  Well, that went well.

  After upsetting Kezia with news of Marci’s arrival, he’d immediately wanted to draw her into his arms again. Cue interruption from the cute, but persistent Zoe. Figuring he’d more chance comprehending Shakespeare’s entire works in an afternoon than the mysteries of a woman’s moods, Ben shook off his misgivings. He’d make time to talk to her tomorrow.

  Ben strode through the gate and unclipped Sparky’s leash, lowering her to the ground with a quick scratch behind the ears. “Go and play, buddy.”

  Buddy now? And he was petting the dog? Screwed. Totally, royally screwed.

  Ben stomped inside the house, glaring at the pink suitcase in the hallway and ready to chew Marci out, Jade’s mother or otherwise.

  “Jade?” he yelled.

  “I’m decorating goodie bags,” his daughter hollered from her bedroom.

  He entered the kitchen to see Marci seated on a bar stool surrounded by a cloud of balled up tissues. She swiveled to face him, panda circles of mascara smeared under both baby blue eyes.

  “Ah, Marci?”

  She flapped a hand at him and tugged out another tissue. “Hold on.”

  Two crying women in one day, his own personal Armageddon. While his stomach still churned at the memory of Kezia’s tears, Marci’s filled him with a low buzz of baffled annoyance. Why was she blubbering in his kitchen?

  After honking into the tissue, she swiped at the black streaks and dropped it with the others.

  “Did you and Jade have a run in?” Ben said.

  She produced a compact mirror and peering into it, finger-combed her hair.

  “Oh no, nothing like that. I helped her in the bath and then she wanted to keep busy-busy-busy decorating her party bags.” She gave him a trembling smile.

  “Yeah.” He edged into the kitchen, as if she were a bomb ready to detonate. “Why don’t I make coffee?”

  “Thanks.” She dabbed another tissue under her eyes, then snapped the compact closed.

  Ben snagged two coffee mugs and filled them, Marci’s gaze following him the whole time, the silence punctuated by the odd wet sniff.

  “I’m not getting married.”

  His hand clenched the fridge’s metal handle.

  “He ditched me a week ago—turns out he’s been banging someone else all along, and marrying her would further his career.” She laughed, a bitter, ragged sound. “Why saddle yourself with cheap trash if you can upscale to the boss’s precious daughter?”

  Guilt pierced him—hadn’t he compared Marci to cheap wine earlier? He grabbed the milk bottle, nudging the fridge door shut with his hip. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out.”

  She nodded. “It’s his loss. He’ll kick himself after he knocks up the new Mrs. Grainger, and she ends up with an ass as wide as a semi-trailer. She’s the type to let herself go.”

  And…there went all his sympathy. “Milk?”

  Her nose crinkled. “Not if it’s full cream.”

  “Don’t drink the watered-down stuff, sorry.”

  “Black then.”

  He passed her the mug.

  “I’ve done a lot of thinking in the last few days,” she said.

  Ben picked up his coffee and sipped, the heat of the liquid stinging the roof of his mouth.

  “About my kids.”

  His mouth turned paper dry in seconds. “Your kids?”

  “Uh-huh.” She traced a fingernail over the mug’s curved handle, keeping her eyes downcast. “My kids. Both of them.” She glanced up but didn’t meet his gaze. “I want them back. I’m taking them—starting with Jade.”

  “No.” The word exploded out of him, scalding and strong and loaded with every single day spent learning to love a little girl who now held his heart in her grubby hands.

  White-hot heat burned his legs—but it
wasn’t until he stepped forward and china crunched under his boot that he realized he’d dropped the mug.

  The coffee saturating his jeans meant nothing. The fire cremating his gut meant everything.

  “Jade’s home is here with me,” he ground out, his voice pitched low. “You dumped her to marry some rich prick, and he found a better offer. Hard luck, lady. But the fuck you can change your mind and take my daughter.”

  The super-heated blood pulverizing his brain sharpened his senses until he could smell Marci’s anger, hear the tension crackling around the room, taste the thunder of his heartbeat.

  Marci surged to her feet, stabbing a pink-taloned nail at his nose. “I’m her mother. She’s my daughter, and she’s coming back with me to Auckland.”

  Ben had never laid hands on a woman in his life. Never used his size and strength to intimidate or bully a female. But right now, he jammed his fingers into his pockets to stop them from shaking the heartless bitch until her teeth rattled.

  “You will not take her.” The words fell from his lips like cold, hard stones. “I’ll fight you every fucking inch of the way.”

  Her lips curled into a sneer. “For God’s sake, Ben. Do you really think you can win a custody battle against me? You may be her father, biologically”—she said biologically like she meant embarrassingly insignificant—“but up until three months ago, you didn’t even know you had a child, while I’ve sacrificed nine years of my life looking after that kid.”

  Sweat slicked Ben’s brow, and the hot boil of blood cooled to a simmer. Marci had a point. Could he really win in a court of law? He’d be lucky to be awarded joint custody.

  The thought made him want to vomit. The woman was so self-centered he wouldn’t trust her to care for a pot plant—like hell would he leave his daughter in her care even part time. Jade was his. And one way or another, Ben Harland took care of his own.

  “Her name is Jade, and looking after her is a privilege, not a goddamn sacrifice—which if you were any kind of mother, you’d know.”

  Her eyes narrowed to razor-sharp daggers.

  He held out a palm. Time for a change of tactics before he incinerated any more bridges. “Look, Marci, what’s this all about? You were happy to leave Jade with me when you planned to marry this accountant guy—”