Alex had been wearing a charcoal-gray suit, but already he’d taken off the jacket and draped it over his arm. He’d loosened his rather flamboyant tie and top buttons, allowing her to see a V-shaped section of his dark, muscled chest and a sprinkling of tight, curly black hair. Now he was working on the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, rolling them up to expose his well-formed forearms.
He was so busy working at his shirtsleeves that he hadn’t noticed Macy yet, and she continued to drink in the sight of him. It was easy to forget that she and Alex had important issues to sort through when he looked like that.
Sleeves taken care of, Alex looked up and flashed Macy a brilliant smile. Her face grew warm, and Macy turned quickly away. It would not do to let Alex see her flustered, but by averting her eyes, she reminded herself, she would be giving herself away, as well. She forced herself to calm down and turned, returning Alex’s smile.
Alex saved her. “Gramma thought Cory might enjoy going to Rue Dean’s Fish Camp out toward Murrell’s Inlet. It isn’t a long drive and, if I remember from my last visit out there, she has some play equipment out back for the kids.”
“Is it close to the b-e-a-c-h?” Macy asked, careful not to let Cory know what she was thinking. The air might be warm enough for shirtsleeves, but she doubted that the water was warm enough for swimming. And she was certain that if her son saw the water, he’d want to go in.
“About a mile inland,” Willadean said. “Don’t worry, he’ll never know.”
“Know what?” Cory piped up, popping around from behind Willadean’s skirt.
Alex made a face at him, and Cory grinned and ducked back behind the shelter of floral fabric.
“It’s a surprise,” Alex said. His fisted hands on his hips allowed his jacket to slip down toward his wrist as he looked down. “And it won’t be a surprise if we tell you now, would it?”
“I guess not,” Cory said reluctantly. Then he grinned, a mischievous expression on his face. “Then we better go now so I won’t have to wait so long.” He grabbed Willadean with one hand and Macy with the other and excitedly pulled them toward the parking lot.
Macy held him back as Cory headed for her car. “Wait, son! We aren’t going in Mama’s car.”
Cory stopped in his tracks and turned. “We’re not? Whose car we goin’ in? Gramma’s?”
“Nope, we’re going in mine, son,” Alex said, and Macy’s heart stopped for a moment, hearing Alex call Cory “son.” Cory might not know it, but the rest of them did. And she wondered when they would finally have to break the news to him.
Considering the way Cory seemed to adore Alex, Macy had a feeling that the only one who’d feel odd about it would be her.
So far, they hadn’t come to a consensus on when they should do it. It could be as soon as this afternoon, if the moment seemed right, or maybe never.
Macy let out a long, low sigh and followed Alex to his red SUV. Willadean seemed to be hanging back.
As Alex transferred Cory’s booster seat into the SUV, Willadean surprised Macy. “I reckon you three can just go along, now,” she said crossing her arms over her ample bosom. “I’m going to have to go to an emergency meeting of the Ladies’ Club. We have to plan our Thanksgiving dinner at the homeless shelter. Gonna have to make some changes thanks to the storm,” she said.
“But, Willadean, how will you get home? You came with Alex.”
“That I did, child, but I reckon I can drive your car home as well as anybody.”
“That’s fine, Gramma. You do that,” Block said. “I’m sure Macy won’t mind you taking her car home for her.”
That wasn’t the problem, Macy thought as Willadean walked away, a smug expression on her face.
She knew darn well that Willadean was trying to do some matchmaking, and she’d bet Alex knew it, as well.
She’d hoped that she’d have Willadean there to help diffuse the tension between her and Alex, to dilute the sexual attraction that seemed to flow between them in spite of themselves. But Macy knew that once Willadean had set her mind to something, there was nothing Macy could do to change it.
She was just going to have to hope that having Cory there with them would be enough.
BLOCK WAS used to driving long distances under less than optimum circumstances, but he’d never driven fifty miles with a small boy chattering like a blue jay. He’d never heard one person ask so many questions, but he did his best to answer them all.
If this was what it was like being a dad, he was pretty sure he was gonna like it full-time. He chuckled deep down in his belly.
And he sure enjoyed having Macy seated right next to him, so close he could pull her into his arms. Of course Cory was in the back seat, so it wouldn’t happen. But it could, under other circumstances.
“Why does they call it a fish camp? I don’t see no tents. They aren’t no fishes camping,” Cory said as they pulled into Rue Dean’s parking lot.
“Aren’t any fishes camping,” Macy corrected, looking back over the seat toward Cory. She turned back to Block. “I don’t know. Do you?”
Macy’s hand brushed against his arm as she turned, and he suppressed a shiver of delight. Whenever she touched him, cold electrical charges seemed to race, unchecked, through him, a disconcerting, yet delightful feeling he could get used to.
“Back in the old days,” Block explained, “people who lived inland where there were no stores to sell seafood would have to drive to the ocean and catch their own fish if they wanted to eat any. The trip took a lot longer in their old-fashioned cars and on bad roads. They’d have to cook up their fish there, then stay the night and get up in the morning before going home. As times changed, the places became restaurants, but they didn’t change the names.”
“I didn’t know that,” Macy said, and it gave Block no small measure of satisfaction to know that she didn’t know everything. “I always wondered.”
“You know…” Block said, trying to come up with a family-rated topic of conversation. “When my team and I do water training, sometimes we catch fish and camp and eat them, too.” His air force job had been a lot of hard work, but they’d had good times, too. Damn, he would miss it.
“Do we have to catch our own fishes here before we eat?” Cory asked.
Macy suppressed a giggle behind her hand, and Block laughed out loud. He finally controlled his mirth and said, “Nope. They’ve already caught them for us, so all we have to do is eat.” He had to park, so he left the rest of the explanation to Macy.
MACY WAS PLEASED to see that the place Willadean had sent them to was a comfortable family-style establishment. The waitress ushered them quickly to a table, gave them their menus, and offered a booster seat for Cory without being asked. When she returned, she had a tiny package of crayons, a thin coloring book, and several packets of cellophane-wrapped crackers. Cory pounced on all three with gleeful abandon.
“Oh boy,” he said. “Look, Mama, they gots fishes in this coloring book just for me.”
“Yeah,” said Alex, looking around the room decorated with a definite nautical bent. “They have them on the walls, too.”
“They do?” Cory looked around, wide-eyed at all the mounted fishes and fishing paraphernalia. “How do they do that?”
“Do what, sweetie?” Macy asked, grateful for the distraction from Alex’s potent masculinity. Whenever she was too near him, she wanted to be closer, and it had been so difficult sitting next to him cooped up in that car for an hour and a half to get here.
“How do they make them fishies stay on the wall?” Cory asked, still gaping.
“Well,” Alex explained, “sometimes when people catch really big fish, they’re so proud of them they take them to a taxidermist to have them stuffed so they can show them off.”
“What’s a taxi dentist?” Cory said, ripping into one of his packets of crackers.
Macy rolled her eyes. “Did you have to get him started? Now we’ll be playing twenty questions all afternoon.”
“As if
he hasn’t already?” Alex shrugged. “He asked.” Then he turned to Cory. “A taxidermist is a man who stuffs fish or game so that people can save their trophies to show off.”
“I got a trophy from Sunday school once,” Cory volunteered. “It wasn’t a fish or game. It was plackstic an’ it looked like a cup wif two handles.”
“That’s a different kind, son,” Macy said, hoping that the answer would end the questions. She had to remember that Alex wasn’t used to being around little boys.
And whose fault was that? a little voice inside Macy’s head reminded her.
“Oh,” Cory said, stuffing a cracker into his mouth.
Alex reached across the table and took her hand, covering it with his large one, and Macy felt unwanted heat rise to her face. It felt so good to have Alex’s large, strong hand on hers. It felt so good not to be sniping at each other.
She wondered how long it would last.
“It’s all right, Macy,” Alex said. “I’m enjoying learning all about our s—” He stopped himself. “All about Cory. I have a lot of catching up to do.”
And that only made Macy feel all the more guilty. She tried to draw her hand away, but Alex closed his fingers tighter. He gave her a half smile and a wink, and Macy wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she liked it, whatever it was for.
“I think we should order before the native gets too restless,” she finally said, nodding toward Cory, who had demolished the crackers and was momentarily busy at coloring. “It’s been a long time since breakfast.”
“Yeah. It’s been a long time,” Alex agreed.
And Macy wasn’t sure his reference had anything to do with when her son had last eaten.
THE FOOD was plentiful and delicious and all they could eat. Block ate with gusto and was pleased to see that Cory did, too.
Macy, on the other hand, seemed to be picking at her food, her gaze lowered deliberately toward her plate. Every once in a while she would look up and catch him watching her, and she would glance quickly down again, color rising to her cheeks.
Apparently, she was remembering what had happened in her bedroom last night.
He’d tried to put her at ease, but the strain of the past few days was evident on her face. She might have tried to cover the dark circles with makeup, but they rimmed her eyes. It was obvious that Macy had been having trouble sleeping.
On the one hand, Block regretted that he had been the cause of that, but on the other he felt vindicated.
After all, she had brought it on herself. And as much as he’d already grown to love Cory, his son, and he was sexually attracted to Macy, he wasn’t sure he could trust her. What if she decided to run with his son?
Would she be that desperate to keep his son from him that she’d go to such an extreme?
Block glanced across the table to where Macy was picking at her coleslaw. He didn’t know Macy’s moods and expressions the way a man who shared a child with a woman should, and something akin to regret filled him. What would it be like to have been with her all along? Would he have been able to read her as well as he could read the thoughts of his teammates?
He looked across at Cory, doodling with a French fry in a puddle of ketchup on his plate. If only Macy had told him about her pregnancy. If only he had called. It was too late now for regrets. Regrets would not make it right. He had to start doing things right, saying the right things now. The rest of his life, Macy’s life, and that of his son depended on it.
Block reached across the table and gathered Macy’s small hand in his. She glanced up at him, startled, and a flush colored her cheeks. She smiled briefly, and he knew he had to say something.
He had to do everything he could to make it right.
He had to get over his anger and do what he could to bring them together as a family. And, he realized, it would be up to him to do the convincing. Macy still believed she was alone in the world and could only depend on herself. He would have to prove her wrong.
Block squeezed her hand gently. “We’ll work it out, Macy,” he said huskily. They had to.
The waitress approached with their bill and presented it to Block. “You have a beautiful family,” she said as she waited for him to get out his credit card.
He hadn’t thought about it that way, but they were a family. He didn’t know what to say in response.
Macy did. “Thank you,” she said.
And that was enough.
THE SUN was sinking low in the west, painting the sky with a palette of pinks and oranges. Macy was bone weary but she wasn’t too tired to notice the beauty of the sunset. She wasn’t tired from the long day or the lack of sleep the night before, but from the strain of being pleasant all afternoon and trying to hide her discomfort and embarrassment about what had happened last night.
Was great sex the only thing she and Alex had in common besides Cory? Would they ever be able to sit alone and discuss a book they’d read or a movie?
Once they’d gotten to the restaurant, Macy had tried hard to relax. Not an easy thing with the man who was both the cause and possible solution to all her recent problems sitting so close by. She still went all warm and liquid inside every time she thought about what had happened last night, and with Alex so close, she seemed to have been thinking about it constantly. Was this the way a married couple felt? Did thoughts of what happened in the bedroom intrude on their everyday lives? If it was, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.
Every once in a while, though, one of them would say something and they’d actually engage in real conversation.
If only they could really come together as the real family the waitress had presumed them to be.
Although they seemed to have connected physically, Alex had made it plain that he didn’t want anything more than that. He’d insisted last night that he wanted Cory, and nothing he’d said last night had led her to believe that he might be interested in her as a person, as a real live, thinking woman, not just a bed partner. Or as Cory’s mother.
Macy sighed and glanced back over her shoulder to see Cory slumping in his seat. “Uh-oh,” she said quietly. “Looks like somebody didn’t make it.”
They’d halted at a crossroads, and Alex glanced quickly over his shoulder. “He looks like he’s down for the count. I don’t think he’ll be waking up any time soon.”
“Just as long as it isn’t any time before morning,” Macy said. “I’ll happily let him skip his bath and dinner, but I need to be able to sleep.”
Alex slanted a curious look her way, and Macy squirmed in her seat. It had been a mistake to let Alex know that she’d been bothered by their encounter last night. She hadn’t admitted it, but by mentioning that she needed her sleep tonight, she might as well have.
Fortunately, Alex didn’t pursue the subject. “I’d say we have about another half hour of driving,” he said, squinting into the setting sun.
“Uh-huh,” Macy agreed, her mind still on the problem that lay before her and Alex. She would be devastated if Alex took Cory away from her, even if it was only as far as Florence where he had the recruiter job.
She had never spent a complete night away from her son, and the prospect of not kissing his little head after she tucked him into bed, of not watching him sleep, his tiny chest rising and falling as he slept, was too horrible to contemplate. The thought of not seeing her son every day was unbearable.
Hot tears filled her eyes as she thought about how Cory would leap out of bed every morning and run to her and smother her face with little-boy kisses. No, she couldn’t endure a day without that.
“Pretty sunset,” Alex said after she’d been quiet for too long.
“Yes, it is.”
“You know that old expression, ‘Red sun at morning, sailors take warning. Red sun at night, sailor’s delight’?”
“Yes.” Macy blinked furiously to dry the moisture from her eyes and glanced at Alex. Was he trying to put her at ease?
“There is some scientific basis in all that,” he said. “We got
a lot of meteorological training as air traffic controllers so we could make intelligent, forward weather observations.”
“Oh. Can you make weather predictions?” Funny, them talking about the weather when they should have been talking about their issue, but this was a side to Alex that Macy hadn’t known before. She liked that he was opening up to her.
“No, I’m more of a weather observer. We leave the predicting to the guys with the instruments and gauges, but we do need to know something about weather.” He laughed and nodded toward the sunset. “Sometimes knowing too much about something takes the magic out of it, though.”
“Yes,” Macy agreed. “There is something magical about sunsets, even if you do know the science that makes it all happen.”
They had actually agreed on something. Macy smiled and glanced again at Alex who seemed to be concentrating too hard on the road ahead. Could they actually come to some sort of agreement about Cory?
They had to, Macy tried to convince herself.
They would work something out. It wouldn’t be easy, and it wouldn’t be fast, but they’d do it. Alex was a good man. He’d shown how kind and thoughtful he could be in many ways. He’d been there during the aftermath of the storm. He’d seen to it that she was fed. He loved his grandmother and he certainly seemed to like Cory. There was no way he’d take her son away from her for good. Surely he had been bluffing.
It might be false hope, but it was the only hope Macy had. And she clung to it like a lifeline.
Chapter Nine
In the deepening twilight, Block pulled up in front of Gramma’s house. Macy’s house was dark, and she’d have to hurry ahead to unlock the doors and turn on some lights. Cory was sound asleep, and Macy wanted to get him inside without waking him up so she and Alex could talk once she got Cory settled in bed.
Block kept his headlights on so Macy would be able to find her way up the walk, and the dome light came on when he pushed open his door, allowing him to see Macy for the first time since darkness had fallen. He’d only just begun to see her, accept her as an adult, a grown woman and a doctor. But she was a mother, too. To his son.
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