Whatever It Takes

by JM Stewart

  It had taken him months after she left to finally see what he’d become. Terrified of losing the best damn thing to ever happen to him, he’d reverted to what he knew—working his tail off to provide for her and Allie, to give them everything they deserved. He didn’t know how to show emotion, to show her she was his world. So, he’d set about giving it to her. He’d had no idea all he’d done was shut her out until it was too late to do anything about it.

  When it came to parenting, he hadn’t the foggiest idea what he was doing there, either. Hell, half the time he felt like he fumbled through the dark, getting more lost the farther along he went. But he was determined to be better than his parents. That had to count for something.

  Becca darted a glance at him but did as he asked. She put on a brave smile and waggled her fingers at Allie. Their daughter sat with her nose pressed against the car window, but relief flooded her little face at seeing her mother’s wave.

  Becca set down on her heels and turned back to him. “What’re you doing here?”

  “I came back because I forgot her suitcase.” Standing in Becca’s dojo, watching her ice him out as he’d clearly done to her all these years—the fact of which wasn’t lost on him—all of Jackson’s regrets had collapsed on top of him. The old familiar ache had filled his chest. He couldn’t undo the divorce, but he’d be damned if he could stop missing her.

  “It’s in my car.” She turned to peer at something beyond him. “And, I’m not living with you again. End of discussion.”

  He shrugged. “Suit yourself, but my daughter’s not homeless. She’ll be staying at home with me. For her sake, we agreed to share custody, or have you forgotten?” He held his palm out. “Give me your keys so I can get her suitcase.”

  “My car isn’t locked.”

  With a nod, he pivoted and made his way toward her car, parked a block down. He prayed she took the bait and followed. Everything she owned no doubt lay in her burning house. He regretted, more than he could possibly tell her, not being the husband he’d wanted to be, the man she deserved. He was sorry as hell their relationship had come to this, where she peered at him with contempt, with a fire of the wrong kind.

  As tragic as it was, though, her house burning down provided an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. He regretted nothing more than the day he signed those damn papers. At the time, he only wanted her to be happy, because nothing he did worked. If she was happier without him, he’d have given her the moon. Now? Now his life was a sham. He missed her. Hated waking every morning without the sound of Allie’s feet running through the house. Damn house was too quiet and way too big for one person.

  He wanted her back. Maybe forcing her to live with him again wouldn’t get him anywhere, but damn it, he had to try. He’d rolled over and played dead last time, and all he’d gotten for his troubles were yards of loneliness and miles of regret. He had no intentions of letting her go again. At the very least, he’d die trying.

  Bent inside the backseat a minute later, the back of his neck prickled. He snatched the pink Barbie suitcase off the floorboard of Becca’s ancient Escort, straightened, and turned to find her behind him. She stood with her arms still folded, a stubborn set to her shoulders, her brows drawn together. She’d yanked the rubber band out of her hair, something she did when frustrated. Her sandy hair now flowed around her shoulders, the ends ruffling in the breeze.

  He drew up straight, preparing for a fight. Nothing with her ever came easy.

  “I’m not fighting with you on this, Beck. We agreed for the sake of our daughter to make our divorce as easy on her as possible. I refuse to shift my daughter around like luggage.” The way his parents had done to him, constantly shipping him off to boarding schools on the other side of the world. Leaving him to spend holidays alone. “I don’t mind telling you that seeing her only on the weekend flat-out stinks like a skunk on a hot a summer day. Up until now I haven’t fought you. I’ve gone out of my way to give you whatever you needed. I could just as easily call my lawyer.”

  He hadn’t intended to pull this particular punch, but if she wanted to be tough, so could he.

  She blew out a defeated breath. “As much as I hate to admit it . . .” Her eyes narrowed, warning him against making teasing comments. “. . . you’re right, Allie deserves more time with you.”

  He nodded. “Thank you.”

  “She hates the separation, and I know she’ll love getting to live at home for a while. I want to make it clear she and I will only be staying until I can find a new place. I’m only doing this for her.”

  “Fair enough.” He reached behind him and shoved the car door closed. “Come on. It’s movie night. I’m letting Allie choose. In light of things, I think it’s important we try to keep everything as normal as possible for her.”

  The sounds of splitting wood rent the air, rising above the chaos, followed by a thundering crash that made the ground tremble. He cringed and knew instinctively that part of her house had collapsed.

  She twisted at the waist, turning back to the fire. Her shoulders slumped again. The deep, shaky breath she drew in seemed to vibrate through her entire body.

  “Take Allie home.” Her words drifted to him on the soft breeze, so quiet and meek that if he weren’t staring right at her, he wouldn’t have thought the voice was hers. “I need to stay, see what’s salvageable after they put out the fire.”

  He studied her for what seemed an endless moment, caught between the need to be there for her and to take their daughter away from the chaos. He longed to stay, to keep those tears from slipping down her cheeks, but the last place Allie needed to be was in this chaos. Instead, he settled for something in the middle.

  “Do you have your cell phone with you?”

  Becca hadn’t quite joined the twenty-first century. When Allie was born, she’d bought one. She always made sure to keep it with her, remembered to turn the thing on, but never remembered to actually charge it.

  Her gaze darted to him, then back to the fire. “It’s in my car, but the battery’s dead. I forgot to charge it last night, and the charger was . . .” She stopped to swallow and tears flooded her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was small and defeated. “The charger was in the house.”

  “Here.” He reached inside his jacket to pull his cell from the right front pocket and held the phone out to her. “Take mine.”

  They had a landline at the house, the same number they’d gotten when they first moved in. It didn’t get used much. Most people knew to reach him on his cell. Telemarketers called the landline more than anybody. But he liked making sure he was always connected, that if his cell died, he could always be reached.

  Becca turned back to him, her gaze dropping to his hand. “What for?”

  He held his breath, preparing for an emphatic denial. “In case you need me.”

  Instead of the comment stiffening her shoulders and stoking a fire in her eyes as he suspected it might, she simply accepted the phone. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll see you at home.” He pivoted and started across the street, despite every cell in his body insisting he stay to support her. At least she had Kyle to get her through the next few hours, though the thought didn’t provide much of a consolation. His heart said the person she leaned on ought to be him and not her brother.

  Chapter Two

  An hour later, Becca Morgan sat staring at the rear end of Jackson’s black Mercedes parked several feet ahead of her in the paved driveway. The clock on the dashboard told her she’d been out there for five minutes now, but she couldn’t seem to make herself go inside. She was exhausted, mentally and physically. The little rental she loved, that had been the first step into putting her life back together after the divorce, was a total loss. Now here she was, back with Jackson.

  She heaved a sigh, interrupting the quiet of her car’s interior as she eyed the house. The sight of it had grabbed her when she pulled into th
e driveway and melancholy had set into her chest. She hadn’t been here since the day she left a year ago. Technically the house belonged to him now, but she’d long ago etched the place into her mind as theirs. Painted a warm peachy tan with burgundy trim, the house had Southern charm, like the man himself.

  The sweeping staircase led to a sprawling veranda that ran the width of the front and down the right side. The first day he’d brought her here, on their first anniversary, he’d told her he’d built that porch so they could sit out in the evenings and watch the world go by. The sad part was, they’d never actually done it. Jackson had usually been too caught up in work to get home early enough.

  She turned her head, eyeing the tower. Inspired by a lighthouse, it jutted out from the left side of the house, merely a looming shadow against the darkness. He’d told her that day that he’d had the tower built just for her. She was the princess, his princess. It gave the whole house a romantic fairy-tale feel.

  She loved this place. Right then, with the all the windows lit up and the porch light on, the place appeared warm and cozy and welcoming. What an ironic twist of fate. Here she was, returning to the one place she swore she’d never come back to. She hadn’t been back here since she’d gathered the last of her things and dropped off the divorce papers for Jackson. She always made sure they exchanged Allie at the dojo on the weekends, because coming here was too painful.

  Now, the thought of going in there had her nerves scattered. She’d lost everything tonight. Every memory she’d saved. Every stitch of clothing. She didn’t even have a house to live in. And the thought of coming back here just made her chest ache. She’d wanted Jackson to love her, and the thought of living with him again, knowing he didn’t, exhausted her. But he was right. It would be good for Allie.

  The front door opened and his tall form filled the doorway.

  “You planning on coming in anytime soon,” he called out, one corner of his mouth hitching, “or do you plan on living in the driveway?”

  Becca couldn’t answer. The sight of him standing there had memories bombarding her. He was six-foot-two inches of lean muscle. Per his usual attire, he wore a tailored white shirt and black trousers. He’d taken off his tie, though, and the neck of his shirt lay open by several buttons. Up until she’d met him, a man in a business suit hadn’t done a thing for her. Jackson owned the look. The sight of him before he went to work in the morning could melt her knees.

  When she didn’t move, he pushed away from the door and started toward her. Like with everything, he took his time, his strides long yet unhurried, as he moved across the porch and down the staircase. The man did everything slow and easy. God, he even made love that way.

  She shook off the images trying to invade her thoughts and grabbed the sleeping kitten off the passenger seat. Allie had found the little orphan in a box beside the trash can outside her dojo and begged her to take him home. Allie had decided to name him Fred. With the chaos of the fire, she’d forgotten to send him home with Jackson. The little thing slept quite happily in the towel she’d wrapped him in and hadn’t moved since she set him there an hour ago.

  “Come on, Fred. Let’s get this over with.” She tucked him into the crook of her elbow and climbed from her car.

  Jackson stopped in the center of the cobblestone walkway leading to the staircase and folded his arms. His blue eyes twinkled with mischief, warning her even before the words left his mouth that he was about to tease her. No doubt some bawdy comment. “Darn. Here I thought I’d get the pleasure of carrying you inside again.”

  His comment only served to send a twinge to her heart. On some level, she knew he was kidding. No doubt doing what he did best and attempting to set her at ease by making a joke. It was the memories his comment sent surging through her mind that had her chest clenching. When he surprised her with the house on their first anniversary, he insisted on carrying her across the threshold.

  Determined not to let him get to her, she walked onto the grass to go around him. “Not a chance. Knowing you, you’d carry me straight to your bedroom.”

  No sooner had the words left her mouth then the blasted image formed in her mind anyway, and she halted halfway to the stairs. That first day, he’d carried her all the way to the master bedroom, located in the tower, then peeled away her clothing, layer by layer. Along with the memories came the unbearable emotions. The pain. The regret. The doubts.

  Her shoulders slumped, exhaustion weighing her down. God, how had they gotten here? It used to be so easy between them once. Or so she’d thought when they first married. She’d had a heart full of dreams. Now they were strangers, and thoughts of their first anniversary just made her want to cry. Grief for all those dreams he’d shattered over the years, for everything she’d thought they had. They’d been separated for almost thirteen months exactly, divorced officially for a little over ten, but the wound was still every bit as raw.

  “Not a bad idea.” His voice came from directly behind her. He was so close the heat of his body radiated against her back and his breath feathered along her cheek.

  Despite her determination not to let him get to her, a hot little shiver rocketed up her spine. Deep, husky, and suggestive, his tone told her none too subtly he remembered that weekend as well. They’d spent two days and three nights wrapped around each other, skin to skin. They’d only gotten dressed when their empty stomachs demanded it.

  She tamped down the memories, using her anger like a protective shroud, and turned, but one glance at his face stopped her cold. Instead of the mischievous glint she’d expected to find, longing and regret took shape in his eyes. That look on his face told her that this move wasn’t easy on him either, and seeing it threatened to unravel what little hold on her sanity she had left.

  The man left her vulnerable and defenseless. Two emotions she didn’t know how to deal with. He reminded her too much of the girl she’d been before she’d started karate. The girl who’d gotten herself in over her head in high school.

  She grew up with three very protective older brothers, always hovering, pulling her out of scrapes without waiting to see if she could help herself. Her brothers’ overprotectiveness used to irritate the crap out of her. But one night, at the end of her junior year in high school, her brothers weren’t there to pull her out. On her own and defenseless, a man had tried to assault her on the street. Shaken, she’d gone into martial arts to learn how to defend herself, to learn to stand on her own two feet. She couldn’t defend herself against Jackson, though. They didn’t teach skills for matters of the heart, and he was her ultimate weakness.

  She drew her brows together, unable to summon the anger she needed, and instead let her shoulders slump in defeat. “Please don’t go there, Jack. Not now. I lost everything tonight. Right now, all I want to do is take a shower, eat some dinner, and go to bed.”

  She didn’t have the strength to fight him tonight. Maybe tomorrow, but tonight, she was just tired.

  “Relax, sweetheart. I was teasing. You look exhausted and defeated, and I was attempting, in my own fumbling way, perhaps, to lighten your load. Forgive me if it was misplaced.” He smiled, warm but awkward, and dropped his gaze to the bundle in her left arm. “What’s this?”

  She couldn’t be angry at him for this. Oh, she wanted to be. Anger was so much easier to deal with. But she couldn’t drum up the emotion. His defense mechanism had always been his humor. When he was tense, he deflected.

  So she turned her attention to the kitten. “Allie found him outside the dojo. She’s calling him Fred. I know you’re allergic, but I couldn’t just leave him there to starve. I thought about sending him home with Kyle, but they have little Katie, and I don’t think Ceci wants to have to worry about cat hair all over her. I’ll see if maybe Lila and Chase can take him, but for tonight at least, he’ll have to stay with us.”

  He pulled back a corner of the blanket. The orange-and-white-striped kitten poked his h
ead up, mewing so softly the sound didn’t register. “She’s been asking for a kitten for years. She’ll be crushed if you give him away. She’s already given him a name.”

  Becca sighed. He was right, of course. It would be another moment when she’d have to disappoint their daughter. She’d never forget the uncertainty and fear that had filled Allie’s eyes the day she’d told her they wouldn’t be living with Daddy anymore. She’d had the same look on her face earlier, as she sat in Jackson’s car watching the fire. “I know.”

  “Tell you what.” Jackson stroked the tiny head with the tip of his index finger, his voice low and thoughtful. “Why don’t we see how it goes, hmm? I have come across the occasional cat over the years that didn’t make me sneeze quite so violently. If he stays out of my face and I make sure to wash my hands after I pet him, he might be all right. So how ’bout we give it a week?” He looked up at her and arched a brow. “That all right with you?”

  Becca’s mouth dropped open. She hadn’t expected him to say that. “Are you sure?”

  “Mmm. I’ve disappointed our daughter enough.” He caressed the little head again, then turned, calling to Becca as he trotted up the stairs. “You’d better hurry. The alfredo’s getting cold.”

  He strode through the doorway and down the hall that ran through the center of the house. Becca could only stand and stare after him for a moment. Why had she let him talk her into staying here? She’d never survive this.

  She released a heavy breath as the answer came all too easily. She’d let him, because he was right. Nobody else had room for her. Oh, they’d make room for sure, but she and Allie would only be in everyone’s way. Her mother moved out of their childhood home years ago. She couldn’t keep up with the maintenance anymore and the place had too much space for one person now that Becca and her brothers had all grown up and moved out. Mom had gotten herself a small one-bedroom apartment in Spanaway, twenty minutes away.