by Cara North
“I like butterflies,” Savannah offered.
“Okay, let’s look for those.” Brice was happy. Savannah smiled, and the space where her two front teeth used to be stood out.
The children were adorable, loving, and a handful. He could be a better influence if they were his. If their mother would stop being stubborn and just let him have all of them as his own family, he could make all of their lives better, including his.
* * *
“Hi, I’m Chance, Heath’s wife. We met briefly that time you came out with the kids and Savannah solved the problem of naming the restaurant.” The long legged redhead took a seat next to her. Layla remembered Chance. Who could forget her? Certainly not Rafe’s older brother Heath. “Man, this baby is already making me tired. Were you tired a lot?”
“When?” Layla brought her thoughts back to the moment, reluctantly pulling her eyes away from Rafe, who had been delayed yet again by a guest.
“When you were pregnant.” Chance rocked into her shoulder. That gesture of sisterhood sent a different chill down Layla’s back. How she wished for her sister to be here now. Everything about her life would be different. “My sister said she was tired the first three months then she was so full of energy she could barely sleep the months following.”
“I don’t really remember.” Layla thought back, it seemed so long ago. Late night talks with Lola about pickles and peanut butter sandwiches. It was a happier time, a time when everything in her life made sense and she knew who she was and what she was doing.
“How old are they again?” Chance looked off to the children who seemed to be sneaking up on the bushes looking for something. “Rafe talks about them constantly, but I can never remember which one is which age.”
“Savannah’s six, and Brice is five.” Layla looked away from the children playing to look at Chance. Her bright brown eyes were genuine with interest.
“I know you don’t socialize much. I imagine you work a lot based on the way Rafe hauls ass out of here when school lets out, and then we don’t see him till the next day. But face it, you got two pregnant chicks here on this ranch, and you’re the only one around who’s our age with kids. We are bound to break you out of that shell.” She smiled. Chance was the kind of woman who meant business. She had a wild streak about her according to Rafe. The Johnson wives were all examples of headstrong females, but each was unique.
“Well, I don’t know how useful I’ll be.” Layla looked away from the determined woman and toward the two children.
“So, do you want me to come into town this week and grab lunch with you or what?” Chance asked.
“Me too.” Bethany, Jack’s wife, approached. Bethany was quiet, sweet, and welcoming. “How exciting. I’ve been dying to get some girl time.”
Layla was caught between a rock and a soft place so to speak. Chance bullied her way into lunch, and Bethany was so excited she couldn’t say anything other than the truth. “I can’t.”
“What? Why not?” Chance wouldn’t let her out so easily.
“I have to work through lunch tomorrow. Maybe another time.” Layla pushed up off the ground and headed toward Rafe. It was time to go home. She wasn’t going to tell his sister-in-laws she couldn’t afford to go to lunch with them. She wasn’t going to tell them she feared every morning she walked into work would be her last. Instead, she ran away from them, the shame, and the inadequacy she felt in their presence. “Rafe, can you take us home now?”
He looked as confused as she felt. “Sure. Is everything all right?”
“I don’t feel so great.” Her stomach turned, and her head hurt from fighting the tears.
He called to the children who dramatized the exit to the point of throwing a temper tantrum. They didn’t usually act up when Rafe was around. They were tired, crying, and mad when they got into his truck. They were sleeping when he pulled up in front of her apartment building.
“You don’t look so good.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. The gentle brush of his thumb against the shell, the subtle endearment behind the touch, all combined to make her eyes burn with unshed tears again.
This was her last pair of contact lenses. The insurance she had from the shelter didn’t cover contacts, and with the cutbacks it really didn’t matter because they’d lost what insurance she had three months ago. The one that popped out as she rubbed her eyes to prevent crying was lost. She looked at him; at this distance, she could see him just fine. She looked back at the children; they were a little bit blurry around the edges. Her lips pulled down into a frown and a tear streaked her cheek. “I don’t feel so good.”
“Come on, let’s get inside. You might have a cold or something. It’s fall, and if you don’t watch it, you’ll get pneumonia. Plenty of people think they can’t get sick because the weather is still nice, but it isn’t summer anymore.” He opened the door and woke Brice up. Brice stood next to him, sleepy and rubbing his eyes. He pulled Savannah out and held her with one arm as he grabbed Brice’s hand with his free hand. “Go on inside and I’ll put these guys down for a nap.”
“Okay.” Layla let them all inside. She walked straight back to her bedroom and crawled into bed. She silently sobbed. She heard him putting the children into their room, tucking them in, and then walking down the hall to her room.
“Turn over. Let me feel your forehead.” She obeyed. As his big warm hand touched her forehead, she knew she didn’t have a fever. The warm clean scent of Rafe combined with so many pent up emotions to make her weak. “You feel normal. Does your stomach ache?”
She shook her head no.
“Throat?”
Again, she shook her head.
“You have a headache?” He quirked a brow this time and sat down next to her. His weight shifted the bed, and she slid against him. The slight touch of her body against his sparked tingles in her fingers and toes.
“I lost my contact,” she said softly. “And Chance and Bethany asked me to lunch and I can’t go.”
He sat quietly a minute then said, “We can order more contacts. Do you have glasses?”
She nodded her head yes then opened the nightstand drawer where they were.
She slid them on and watched him smile as he saw her in them for the first time. The six-month supply of contact lenses she had was a birthday gift from her mother. Layla couldn’t, wouldn’t, tell her she couldn’t afford more on her own. Her parents had suffered enough. She didn’t need them to think both of their daughters had failed them.
“Okay, now why can’t you have lunch with them?”
“You know why.” She looked down.
“Layla, I have told you a hundred times to tell me when you run low on cash.” His voice took on an irritated tone.
“And I have told you a hundred times I won’t use you for money.” She heard his deep sigh.
“I don’t know what to do with you anymore.” He turned and placed an elbow on each knee then scrubbed his face with his hands. She had never seen him like this. Rafe was always full of life, spirit. He radiated an energy she wished she could have. Unfortunately, she also knew she was responsible for the exhausted man sitting on her bed.
“I…” Her mouth opened then stopped. Her body was telling her a million things he could do with her. A trillion things she wanted to do with him. At the moment, only one thing made sense. “Lay with me.”
He thought about it for a moment she could tell. Slowly he moved to lie beside her. She moved over in the queen size bed, which his body took up most of. Her heart thundered in her chest as the man she loved closed his eyes and let out a long breath.
“Everyone is exhausted today.” Boldly she wrapped an arm around him and laid her head on his chest. His heart thumped strong and quick in her ear. He didn’t touch her. He didn’t say one word; he just lay there silently, still. Layla removed her glasses and looked at the door.
Rafe was warm, solid, and tired. She listened as his breath came slower, his heartbeat settled into a nice rhythm, and his muscl
es slowly relaxed. The lull of his body was too much to take. She had hoped to lure him into sleep; then she could spend some time looking at him, pretending, but instead sleep pulled her own eyes closed.
* * *
“Rafe.” Savannah’s voice whispered in his ear. He opened his eyes and felt the heaviness on his chest. He turned his head to look at the little girl. “We’re hungry.”
She gave him a strange look. He imagined it was weird for her to see him in bed with her mother though they were fully clothed. Guilt struck him; he didn’t know how the children were going to transition if he could break Layla’s determination to keep him out of their lives and take them all home to his house where, to his way of thinking, they belonged. He knew that no matter how the relationship progressed he needed to be mindful of the way they acted in front of the children now, or it would come back to haunt them when they were teens.
“I’ll be right there,” he, too, whispered hoping to sneak out without Layla knowing the children had caught them. She was snoring and sleeping like she had never slept before.
Savannah studied them a moment and he could feel heat creep into his cheeks from her close attention. Before he could complete the thought that the girl had the wrong idea her little mouth opened and she said, “I think my mom and dad used to sleep like that.”
She left the room as he tried to wrap his head around her comment while unwrapping her mother from his chest.
Rafe met the two children in the kitchen. He scratched his shoulder and looked at them. His chest was heavy; guilt loomed over him though he hadn’t done anything wrong. After a big gulp of courage, he faced the jury. “What do you want for dinner?”
“Are you going to get married?” Brice asked and propped his head on his hand.
“No,” Savannah answered before he could. “You can’t get married.”
“Well… I, well… uh.” He wasn’t sure what to say. He had a feeling that honesty was going to come from one source in this family. He looked at Savannah who played with an ink pen at the table. “Why do you say that?”
“If you do, I think you’ll die.” She shrugged.
Every hair on his body stood straight on end. He wanted to ask her more questions, but Layla was walking down the hall and would be at the kitchen and able to hear.
“Can we have fried chicken?” Brice decided since he had his answer.
“Absolutely.” Rafe clapped his hands. Layla looked at him and he winked. She didn’t need to know anything. “Maybe mom here will peel the potatoes.”
“I can help,” Brice said.
“We’ll all make dinner.” Rafe smiled. Savannah folded up the paper she was drawing on and handed it to him.
“Open it later,” she said and wouldn’t let go until he agreed.
* * *
“They are both asleep.” Layla returned to the living room and took a seat next to him on the couch. “Thank God you were awake before them this afternoon.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. She could tell he had something on his mind.
“I guess everyone was pretty worn out this afternoon.” She smoothed a frayed edge on the small throw. It was nearing time for him to leave, and she didn’t want him to go. They never spent a lot of alone time together. When they talked, it was always about the children. She tried hard to keep him out of their lives at first but only succeeded in keeping his distance from her. Lately that too was becoming impossible.
“I’d like to talk to you. I need to ask you some questions, and I need you to answer them.” He searched her face as she tried to hide the panic building inside. Other people couldn’t read her the same as he could. She tried her best to keep up the defenses, but Rafe always found a way inside. “Don’t worry, not tonight. But I think we… you should let Heath and Chance take them camping, or at least have a sleepover so that you and I can talk.”
“Okay,” she spat out. His eyes rounded, and she knew she had shocked him by the response. She shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, they can go camping with them.”
Slowly he nodded. He was speechless. She half smiled knowing he was afraid of messing up her acquiescence. Something had changed in her this afternoon. Maybe it was the sleep. She hadn’t slept like that in forever. She was refreshed, pliable, and he was so serious she didn’t want to tell him no again. She spent the better part of their discussions telling him no.
“I better go.” He stood, took two steps toward the door, stopped, turned around, opened his mouth, then shut it.
“Yes?”
“When?” He flinched as though she may have thrown something at him.
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes!” He smiled and her heart melted. Her lips pulled her cheeks into that unfamiliar form, and she beamed back at him. He bit his lower lip, and she gripped the couch for support. Nothing could unarm her like the look on his face right now. A cross between victory and lust. Whatever Rafe saw in her, she could read his joy clear on his face. She really needed to look at him more when he was looking at her, not when she was sneaking.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Rafe. Thanks for everything.” Layla knew those words were a long time coming. She never thanked him enough; she couldn’t thank him enough. It was obviously too much for him. He stumbled over a few words then bolted out the door like Brice would; running out of the room before she could change her mind. She thought she heard him let out a whoop of triumph after the door closed.
Chapter 3
Rafe stood in his kitchen and looked at the drawing on the paper. He wasn’t a child psychologist, but something was very clear. Savannah was expressing something he didn’t understand. It was a funeral, and her daddy was in the ground. Her mommy was, too, but then she wasn’t. She had two women labeled mommy. Mommy number one was in the ground with daddy; Brice was on the other side of mommy number two.
* * *
Layla walked into Rafe’s house for the first time since she had known him. Looking around she was in awe of the place. She had been to Jack’s house plenty of times when he lived there. She had been to Heath’s house today, and now she compared the three in her mind from what she knew and decided that this house went above and beyond the others in addition to being the most gorgeous house she had ever laid eyes on much less had the opportunity to walk in.
“Rafe, this place is just… I mean you said you had remodeled, but I had no idea.” She took in the large kitchen and the new stainless steel appliances.
“Thanks.” He set his hat on the counter and pulled out a sheet of paper. “Can you explain this to me?”
Layla took the paper from his hand. As her eyes took in the images, tears burned her eyes, her throat constricted, and her heart ached. “Where did you get this?”
“Savannah.”
Layla felt her knees give; the room became fuzzy. She gripped the countertop for dear life. Rafe moved around the counter, and as his arms moved around her, everything went black and silent.
A cool cloth traced her forehead and cheeks. “Layla.”
His voice became louder, clearer.
“Layla.” Rafe gently tapped her cheeks.
Her eyes fluttered open, and he became a mostly clear vision. His face was strained with worry as he looked down on her. He must have taken off her glasses. She was aware of the soft couch cushion she now laid on, but she was more aware of the man caging her in, concern in his dark brown eyes, and a cool cloth still in his hand. “When did she give that to you?”
“Yesterday.” He let out a breath he must have been holding. “Brice asked if I was going to marry you. She told me I couldn’t because if I did, I would die.”
“They said she wouldn’t remember. That she was too young.” Tears streamed at the thought of her little girl suffering this alone. No wonder she was acting out; all this time she knew. Of course, she was nervous about Rafe. She didn’t want them to get married and die like her real parents. Layla realized what a mess she had made of things.
“Remember what?” Rafe wiped her tears with t
he cloth. The coolness caressed her skin and brought relief.
“Her parents. My twin sister Lola, her husband Warren, the whole ordeal.” Layla turned away from the coolness of the cloth and sobbed. Here she had come across the entire country to get away from this, to make it easier for the children, but it would never go away.
“Tell me, Layla. Tell me everything.” His voice was commanding, but he stroked her hand.
She gripped the long callused fingers and held tightly. Drawing on him for strength, she closed her eyes and began to remember Lola, Warren, and life before the incident.
“My sister was having an affair. I was away at college. She was back in Georgia with her husband and two children. Warren was always a jealous man. We met in high school. She wanted him, and I stepped aside, like always. They married after Warren finished college, and she was pregnant with Savannah by then, named her after the weekend getaway on which she was conceived. I don’t know what went wrong with their marriage. I just know Lola always wanted more.”
Saying the words out loud for the first time ever gave Layla a sense of strength. Lola had always wanted more. More clothes than her, more ice cream, more everything. Any boy who had looked at her, Lola took away. Layla brushed the tears away and sat up to face Rafe. He looked at her intently, expectantly. The tears stopped. She had cried enough for Lola.
“We are identical twins, so everyone thought it would be a smoother transition for the children to think I was their mother and that their father died in an accident. They said they wouldn’t remember; they wouldn’t know any different. I feel dirty when they call me mom because I know I am not their mother. I didn’t change their diapers. I don’t know what they like to eat, what their first tooth was like. How can I be their mother, Rafe? How can I let those babies know how much I love them when I am such a sorry replacement?”
