His mother spoke in his ear.
But he didn’t hear her.
Because he felt an arm slide around his waist and a warm body press against his side.
Simone was there, looking up at him, her pretty face beautiful with gentle concern.
That wasn’t Simone breaking, cracking open, letting him in.
That was just Simone.
He wound his arm around her and shook his head to share he was all right and she had no need for concern.
The expression did not shift, nor did the position of her body.
“Are you listening to me, Stellan?” his mother’s shrill voice sounded in his ear.
He pulled Simone closer and looked back out the windows. “Simone just joined me, so no, actually, I wasn’t.”
“I was saying I have plans with friends. Lunch set with Jenna. I—”
“Then stay with Jenna.”
“I can’t stay with Jenna!” she snapped. “At this late date, it would be rude to ask.”
Did she even listen to herself?
“I know precisely what you mean,” he stated.
“Stellan—”
“You’re not coming here this weekend, Mother. If M is here should you arrive, I’ll instruct her not to let you in.”
“So this is why you never gave me a key, so you could shut me out when you needed to,” she bit.
“No. I never gave you a key because this isn’t your home, it’s mine. I don’t need a family member with access to take care of pets or handle mail when I’m away. I also am of an age I don’t need my mother sauntering in when I’m having dinner guests or I’m entertaining a woman. It would seem perfectly obvious to me considering your penchant to do whatever the hell you want whenever the hell you want to do it that my not giving you a key was tacit communication that I desire my privacy. However, since that was not made implicit, I’ll make it explicit. You are not welcome here unless you’re invited here. Is that clear?”
There was a long, heavy moment of quiet before Brigette Lange, not getting her way, unsurprisingly lifted her foot and stepped well over the line.
“I cannot believe you, my only child after I lost Silie, that you’d treat me—”
Automatically, Stellan turned into Simone, took his arm from around her, lifted his hand and curled it tight around the side of her neck while he bent so he saw nothing but her liquid, warm brown eyes.
“Do not even consider bringing Silie into this conversation,” he growled.
He felt Simone’s hands curl deep into the sides of his waist as she rolled up on her toes and pressed her forehead to his.
“I only have you left, Stellan,” his mother returned sharply.
“You’re right. You do. But I’ll point out something I should have shared some time ago. The simple fact that you just said that you lost Silie when we both lost Silie tells me precisely how little you’re aware of the fact that your son has feelings, emotions, and now a life that you know nothing of because you never made the effort to know of it. And because I reached this age with a mother who is more interested in making certain she doesn’t run out of wine than understanding her son has made decisions in his life that mean he no longer will be living it alone, I myself feel no need to make the effort to share. Case in point, you haven’t told me you’re happy for me, Mother.”
“This is because I’m wondering how long she’ll last,” she sniped.
“Because I’m unworthy of earning a good woman’s love?” he asked, and Simone’s fingers dug into his flesh.
There was a moment’s hesitation before, “I’m not going to be a party to this conversation anymore.”
“Answer the question,” Stellan clipped.
“I’m hanging up now,” she declared. “Don’t bother phoning to set up dinner with that woman who lives with you. I’m suddenly feeling the need to get away. Perhaps Coronado. Or Napa. I don’t know when I’ll return.”
Stellan held Simone’s gaze and her neck even as he lifted his head slightly away. “I’m sure you’ll choose Napa.”
“Perhaps, it’s beautiful there.”
“And offers an endless supply of your only reason for breathing,” he pointed out.
Simone’s eyes got big, and she held on to his waist as she pressed her front to his.
“That’s unspeakably insulting,” his mother snapped.
“It’s also what has so far been unspeakably true, though now I’m speaking of it.”
“Why am I not surprised?” she asked acidly. “This cruelty. I knew you had your father in you, and here it is, finally coming out. Just like him, hidden under the dutiful son until you have something else you want, and then you throw away what you already have. I hope this woman in your life knows how temporary she undoubtedly is.”
“And there it is, coming out even when you’re mostly sober. Now you can’t deny it, Mother. And I won’t either. I’ve found someone I want to risk it all with, and instead of being happy, if concerned, for me, as a mother should be, it’s somehow about you. Simone has nothing to do with you. But the truly unfortunate part is, through your own actions making it so, I have nothing to do with you either. And just to make it clear, the unfortunate part about that is that’s been the case for decades. You just didn’t realize it until now. But I always did.”
“I have endured—”
“You have endured what thousands of women have endured, and you did it with your health and your beauty intact and a wildly generous settlement. Most of the rest don’t have that. They still carry on and make no excuses because they don’t have a choice. With what you have and what you squandered, you especially have none.”
“I think we’re done here,” she bit out.
“Since the last time I saw you when you were well into bottle number three, you have not been this honest with me. In other words, agreed. We are very much done here.”
He knew she didn’t disconnect, waiting for him to think on his words, and back out of them.
So he disconnected.
“Baby,” Simone whispered immediately, pressing close.
“I’m fine,” Stellan said curtly.
“No way you’re fine,” she replied gently. “That sounded ugly and intense.”
“Then it sounded what it was.”
“What happened?” she asked.
“She decided to come down for the weekend. I decided that I’d rather she not.”
“And you told her about me.”
“And I told her about you.”
“And she wasn’t a big fan of that.”
“You didn’t factor. That isn’t how Brigette Lange works. The fact she could not come down for the weekend factored, and it degenerated from there. She just used you as an excuse.”
“You got into the drinking,” she said hesitantly.
“Yes, I did.”
“And she lashed back with—”
“This whole thing proving that I’m like my father.”
It was in that precise moment, Stellan’s world changed.
Like it did when he climaxed with her, it wiped clean, and there was nothing.
Nothing but her.
But when his climaxes would fade, the world would come back as it was and always had been.
This time, it did not.
This time, there was a different kind of climax.
And when it was done, he knew nothing would be the same.
It started with Simone stating, “You … have got … to be kidding me.”
“Simone, I told you that she would say things like—”
She pulled free from him by taking a huge step away, but leaning immediately back toward him and screaming, “You have got to be kidding me!”
Stellan went still in the face of her fury.
It was a mistake.
She moved like a flash, tearing his phone out of his hand.
Unfortunately, it was still engaged so she did not have to enter his password.
Therefore, she was open to going to
his recent calls, which was something she did.
“Darling,” he murmured, moving toward her.
But she shifted away and did it quickly.
Not to escape him.
To begin pacing.
“No,” she snapped into the phone she’d put to her ear. “It isn’t Stellan calling to apologize. This is Simone. And I just witnessed that happy mother-and-son convo, Ms. Lange, and it turned my goddamned stomach.”
“Hey! What’s—?” came from the side, and Stellan’s gaze went there to see Susan had let herself in as usual (she most definitely had a key), and there she was, Crosby in her arms, Harry coming up the rear dragging the copious equipment they deemed they needed for whenever they came with son in tow.
Susan and Harry got the vibe and immediately stopped, Susan getting pale, Harry’s eyes going big.
Crosby did not get the vibe, reached his arms toward Stellan and shouted, “Steyan!”
Torn with which way to go, Stellan went with the only real choice he had, shaking his head at Susan as he walked to her and then catching her son, who launched himself at Stellan when he got close.
“No,” Simone bit off, “I’m not listening to your wine-addled nonsense. We’re going to get a few things clear, woman-in-Stellan’s-life to woman-in-Stellan’s-life. We’ll start with the fact that you do not ever mention his sister to him again, and we’ll move on to you not ever even coming close to accusing him of being like his father.”
“Holy Moses,” Susan breathed, her eyes now also big.
Then they narrowed.
“Uh-oh,” Harry, having caught his wife’s narrowed eyes, muttered.
“Steyan!” Crosby screamed again and latched onto Stellan’s ear.
Susan burst forward, slapping a bouquet of flowers she’d brought down on the dining room table as she made a beeline toward Simone.
Harry moved to Stellan and asked, “Is it too soon to pull out the Scotch?”
“You know where it is,” Stellan answered, turning his attention to Crosby, who was still tugging on his ear. He then stole his nose, and Crosby dissolved into giggles as he made a grab to get it back.
“No worries,” Simone snapped. “Rest assured, it will be quite some time before Stellan and I meet you in Sedona. Enjoy Napa. I’m sure the local economy will appreciate your visit.”
To that, she took the phone from her ear, stabbed it with her finger, and turned enraged eyes to Stellan.
“Mark these words, handsome. I do not ever want to meet that woman in my life. And more, she doesn’t want to meet me, or I’ll scratch her goddamn eyes out,” she clipped, blinked, looked at Crosby, shot straight then muttered, “Sorry, that would be gol-darned.”
“What happened?” Susan near-on screeched.
Crosby heard his mother’s tone and started fretting.
Stellan put his nose back then took it again and regained Crosby’s attention.
Simone tore her eyes off Stellan holding Crosby and looked at Susan like she was unaware of her arrival.
“Stellan and his mother had words,” she explained.
“I got that part,” Susan returned.
“And she said some unpleasant things,” Simone went on.
Susan pivoted to Stellan.
“I never liked that woman,” she snapped.
Stellan looked to Susan’s husband. “Harry, you were getting Scotch?”
“On it, brother,” Harry muttered, on the move.
“And get Sixx some wine while you’re at it,” Susan ordered.
“Simone drinks gin as a pre-dinner cocktail,” Stellan shared.
“I may never drink wine again,” Simone declared dramatically, making Stellan beat back laughter.
“Maybe I’ll have gin too,” Susan decreed.
“Shit,” Harry, now at Stellan’s wet bar in the family room area, muttered.
“How about you?” Stellan asked Crosby. “What are you feeling like having to drink tonight?”
“Jooz!” Crosby shouted.
“Water,” Susan said.
Crosby turned his attention to his mother. “Jooz!”
“Water, baby,” she said softly.
Crosby glared at her for a moment before he turned and stole Stellan’s nose.
Stellan smiled at him.
And he did it hiding the fact that he no longer needed anything more from Simone Marchesa.
Not her deepest mysteries. Not access to her sketchpads.
Not anything.
He had all he needed.
Because Simone and Sixx had become one with his phone to her ear and his mother on the line.
The sensitive soul and the superhero both had stepped out of the shadows.
And he was in love with her.
He was going to make a family with her.
And he was not ever going to let her go.
“So, that’s your boy and your man, yes?” Simone said to Susan.
“Harry, Sixx, Sixx, Harry,” Susan introduced perfunctorily, coming toward Stellan.
“Hey, Sixx, cool to meet you,” Harry called across the room with a bottle of Scotch in his hand.
“You too,” Simone replied with a smile aimed his way.
“And this…” Susan stated, pulling Crosby out of Stellan’s hold, causing a mad screech she completely ignored. She then walked right to Simone and plopped him in arms Simone had to quickly move to catch him with, “This is Crosby. Center of the universe.”
Crosby stared at Simone.
Holding herself and the child awkwardly, she stared back.
After a while, she slowly looked to Susan. “I’m not, well … I don’t have a lot of experience with kids.”
“I didn’t either,” Susan returned. “Then I popped him out and boom, instant expert in all things Crosby.”
Simone looked startled. “It happened as easy as that?”
“No, that’s a total lie. I was a mess. I read about five thousand baby books before he showed. I still didn’t know anything. But you know, in the beginning, they cry, you feed them, change them or try to get them to sleep. You figure out which cry means which. He figures out which buttons to push to get what he wants. It’s a give and take. I give. He takes. And we both love every bit of it.”
Simone looked back to Crosby.
Crosby studied her, then twisted, reached out to Stellan, and cried, “Steyan!”
“He likes his god-daddy,” Susan muttered.
Stellan came forward and relieved Simone of the child.
Crosby instantly went for his nose.
Stellan avoided him but bent in for a blow on the neck from his lips.
When he pulled away, Crosby yelled, “Mo!”
Stellan gave it to him.
“And this is why he loves his god-daddy,” Harry stated, handing Stellan a glass of Scotch. “One ‘mo,’ and Uncle Stellan doesn’t hesitate.”
Stellan took it, noting, “You’re early.”
“We were on time,” Susan returned.
“Yes. You’re early.”
Susan rolled her eyes.
“What can I get you to drink, Sixx?” Harry asked, making himself at home back at the drinks cabinet.
“I’ll make hers,” Stellan said.
“Sooz?” Harry called.
“My choices are nothing alcoholic, nothing alcoholic and nothing alcoholic, so who cares, honey. Just give me something wet,” Susan answered, coming to stand close to Stellan and her son.
“She’s pregnant,” Harry explained to Simone.
“Wow. Congrats,” Simone said to Susan with another smile.
“I cried three times before getting in the car to come over here just thinking about hearing Stellan call you ‘darling’ again. In other words, like the last one, it’s gonna be a rough ride.”
“Crying?” Simone asked.
“Crying all the time, and my nipples were hard and hurt like heck for seven months straight, and I actually broke a window when I threw a jar of jelly through it that I couldn’t o
pen, and that was in month five. It went downhill from there.”
“Good Lord,” Simone muttered, no longer smiling even a little bit.
Susan shrugged and shoved her face in Crosby’s.
Crosby patted her cheek.
“Worth every minute,” Susan whispered.
Simone looked to Stellan, caught his eyes on her, and looked away.
He grinned into his Scotch before he took a sip, handed Crosby to his mother, and headed back to the abandoned salad.
“Honey, will you get out Stellan’s Scotch and Sixx’s chocolates?” Susan asked her husband. “And when you do, hide those chocolates. You remember month three with Crosby.”
Harry smiled to himself as he pulled a bottle of Scotch out of a diaper bag, “Yeah, I’m remembering month three pretty clearly.”
Stellan was about to open a can of mandarin oranges when he caught Simone standing still but with her head tipped well back.
He took her in and realized she was looking at the speaker in the ceiling.
Then she dropped her chin and looked right into his eyes.
And the open longing exposed in hers again shifted his entire world.
That was when he heard Loggins and Messina’s version of “Danny’s Song.”
Stellan felt his gut drop, his throat get tight and that perfect moment grew exquisitely more perfect when Susan started singing with the song while swaying and dancing around with Crosby in her arms with the addition that he saw Simone felt exactly the same about the moment.
His mother disappeared.
His father disappeared.
His sister disappeared.
Her mother disappeared.
Her father disappeared.
Her uncle disappeared.
Stellan was going to give Simone Marchesa his name.
He was going to make a family with her.
But right then, already, they had a family where there once was none.
And they both knew it.
He called softly, “I forgot your drink, darling.”
She moved slowly to him and replied in the same tone, “I’ll live. Where are the vases? I’ll put those flowers in water.”
The Greatest Risk Page 34
