Then He Came Back (Love From Austin Book 2)

by Chris Campillo

  “No one’s following us. Trust me, they’re glad we’re gone.” She didn’t respond or drop her watch. He reached over and squeezed her shoulder, hoping to give her some comfort. Instead, she jumped and dropped the soda.

  “Dammit!” She retrieved the closed bottle, then gave him a nasty look.

  “Sorry. Just trying to help you relax.”

  “Good luck with that.” She turned her attention back to the mirror, keeping her watch. This continued for ten minutes until he couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Let’s get a drink.” She jerked around, apparently appalled. “What? I’m not talking about a night on the town. Just something to take the edge off.” She didn’t respond but went back to the mirror. “Or we can go right to Patty’s house. Whatever you want.”

  “I’ll take the drink.”

  Figured. “Good choice.”

  “I don’t want Wes to see me like this. And I don’t want him to know about the crime dome, got it?”

  “Agreed. We’ll tell him you couldn’t get a room.”

  “Crap.” She leaned her head back and shut her eyes.

  “It’s not a problem. Patty’s wanted you to stay at their place since she first heard you were coming. Why do you think she offered?”

  She stared at him as if he were an idiot. “She never expected me to take her up on the offer. Surely, we’ll come across—”

  He swung onto the side of the road and slammed on the brakes. “We’re not looking for another room, dammit. You’re staying with me.” His harsh tone stunned them both. Maybe she wasn’t the only one still spooked by The Happy Pines visit. Seeing her alone in that hellhole had scared the shit out of him.

  Before she could argue, he tried to lighten the moment. “I know you people from Austin like to keep things weird, but I won’t let the mother of my child end up in another crack motel.”

  She drew back, looking way too vulnerable. Hell, he hadn’t intended to make the woman feel worse, but somehow he had. “I know you can handle yourself, but look at it this way, you’ll get to see more of Wes if you stay with us.”

  A dazed nod was all she would give him. He pulled back on the road and searched for a place where they could get a drink. Problem was, as rural as they were, they weren’t going to pass any upscale places. He pulled into the next tavern they passed. It was small, but the parking lot was full. And unlike Motel Hell, the cars didn’t have custom paint jobs with bulls and guns. When he saw a middle-aged couple head in, he made the call and parked.

  Inside, they made their way to a booth. The red Naugahyde benches were cracked, but it looked clean enough for a place that was probably in its thirtieth year of operation. As soon as they were seated, a waitress arrived who appeared to have worked there since its opening.

  “What can I get you?” their waitress, Dorothy, asked. She didn’t seem too interested in their order, just irritated. He had the strangest urge to apologize for taking her time. Before she could kick them out, he quickly ordered two Bud Lights and a shot of Patrón.

  While they waited, Sue studied her hands that she’d laced together, now white at the knuckles. “Trey.” She finally made eye contact. “If something had . . . if I, when I die—”

  “Here you go.” Dorothy set their drinks down and turned before he had a chance to say sorry for bothering her. He pushed the tequila toward Sue.

  “Drink this. Now.” He knew what she had been trying to say, and he didn’t want her thinking that way. He didn’t want to think that way. He’d lived without her for seventeen years, but now . . . well, the idea of losing her made him sick.

  She sipped it, savoring the flavor, never wincing or grabbing for the lime. She was a hell of a woman. No crutches for her. She closed her eyes and turned up her face, as if bathing in the warmth of the sun. When she gazed at him, there was a bit of the fire back in her eyes. Her fire, the kind that didn’t come from booze.

  “Like I was saying—” She wasn’t going to drop it.

  “Sue, don’t freak out on me. You’re safe. Nothing—”

  “Something could’ve happened!” She reached over, grabbing his hand. “Something could happen tomorrow. We don’t know. But sitting in the bottom of a closet reeking of dog pee, wondering if that’ll be your last experience, makes you think.”

  Trey shook his head. Hopefully, if he faked it enough, he’d stop worrying about what could’ve happened to her.

  “Listen.” She tightened her grip, and he placed his other hand on top of hers. Despite the subject, or maybe because of it, he wanted to give her some peace. Holding on to her, he found some, too. “If something should happen to me—in the near future—I want you to look out for Wes. Make sure he’s okay. Would you do that?”

  “Of course. How could you doubt that?” As soon as he said the words, an awkward silence fell over them. Her face filled with pain, but he wasn’t sure whom it was for. They’d all suffered in one way or another after he’d deserted them.

  She let out a weak laugh. “Pretty crazy, huh? All these years I kept you away, and now I’m asking you to stay. . . I need another drink.”

  He needed her to understand, to trust him. “Things are different now. Wes and I have a relationship. I don’t know how to define it, but we have a connection, and it’s not just biological. I’ll always be there for him.”

  She studied him for the longest time. She was exhausted, but a faint smile emerged. “That’s good.”

  “It’s very good.” Her smile grew, and for the first time since he’d picked her up, she looked relaxed. Maybe it was the tequila, but he hoped it was because she trusted him.

  “You want another tequila?”

  “No, the beer’s fine.”

  But she didn’t reach for a bottle. She kept her hands tucked into his. He traced his fingertips over the back of her hand. Her skin, so smooth, sent pulses of energy through his fingers, through his body. He watched where they touched, looking for the sparks, but he couldn’t see them. It didn’t matter. He knew they were there, and when he gazed into her eyes, he knew she felt them, too. For a moment, it felt as if nothing had passed between them in seventeen years.

  His eyes traveled to her lips. God, he wanted to taste them, taste her. When he looked up, he saw no hesitation in her eyes. Just heat. He unfolded their hands and ran his thumb over her palm, but his eyes remained locked on hers. To hell with Dorothy and the rest, he leaned in, and she met him halfway.

  His phone rang, killing the moment. She jerked back and moved her hands under the table. After two more rings and a barrage of mental rants, he pulled out the phone and checked the number. “It’s Patty.”

  After a quick conversation, in which he watched Sue destroy the label of her beer, he hung up and put the phone on vibrate. No more interruptions. Didn’t matter. Elvis had left the building. Her cool, confident force field was back in place.

  “What did she say?”

  “In case you didn’t hear, she’s thrilled you’re staying with us. And so are Wes and Emma.” She raised her brows. “My niece. She’s three, and you’re sharing her room. She might even let you have the upper bunk.”

  “Oh, joy. But seriously, I appreciate their generosity.” She shook her head and grinned. “I still can’t believe Patty has kids.”

  “You’ll love them. They’re all heading out for dinner. We can join them or eat here, if Dorothy’s willing to serve us?”

  “As lovely as that sounds, I’ll pass. I’d sell a kidney for a hot shower right now, especially before I see your sister for the first time in eighteen years.”

  “You got it.” He liked that plan—more time alone.

  * * *

  Trey hadn’t grasped how serious Sue had been. As soon as he’d showed her Emma’s room, she’d shut the door and within minutes, he’d heard the shower running in the attached bath. It ran for thirty minutes. He heated up the chili he’d made the night before and had a beer. Patty called. They were stopping to pick up goggles for Wes. He had another beer. Sue st
ill hadn’t come out.

  Finally, he tapped on her door. “Sue?” He tapped again, louder. “Sue? You okay in there?” Still no answer. “I’m coming in.” He slowly cracked the door and discovered the queen herself passed out on the bottom bunk.

  She was in a purple fleece robe with a bath towel wrapped around her head. He walked in and squatted down beside her. Her face was clean, her makeup gone, her wall of defense washed away. She was Suz. Soft and vulnerable. Beautiful.

  He was tempted to kiss her. The girl he’d once known. Once loved. But he didn’t want to end the spell. Here was the girl he wanted to remember, if only temporarily, without all the shields his choices had forced her to build.

  The knot of guilt tightened in his chest. It had staked a home there long ago. So how was it that when they were together—laughing or fighting—he felt better than he had in years?

  Chapter 28

  Sue jumped when she woke to big, brown eyes peering at her from inches away.

  “You have big eye lashes,” the living doll said.

  It took a few seconds for Sue to gather her wits. “You must be Emma.”

  The girl bounced her head up and down. “You’re Miss Sue. Wes’s mom.”

  “Yes, I am.” She propped herself up on her elbow, readying herself for a series of questions if she remembered three-year-olds correctly.

  “Wes is my cousin.”

  Just wonderful. She’d been out of the picture for a day and the family reunion had already started. She sat up, hoping to relieve the tension in her neck.

  “Your hair is funny.”

  Ah, the honesty of babes. She ran a hand through her hair and felt the wild disarray. Turning, she found her towel wadded up on the pillow. The day before popped back into her mind, all the events adding up to a nightmare, especially when compared to a three-year-old’s pink Laura Ashley room.

  Last night in the shower, she’d crashed. Thank God, she’d managed to put something on before she fell into bed. “I slept on it wet. I bet it looks a little crazy.”

  The adorable child nodded and giggled, and Sue couldn’t help but laugh. “Emma, thank you for sharing your room with me. Your bed is very comfortable.” And not covered with stains.

  “You’re old, but you went to sleep before me.”

  “That happens sometimes.” She’d probably aged ten years in that closet yesterday.

  “Wes and me and Uncle Trey played Candy Land. Have you ever played Candy Land?”

  “I have. Wes loved that game when he was your age.” I considered it living hell.

  “Do you want to play now?” Emma’s eyes sparkled with hope, so much that Sue actually considered agreeing. Then, she remembered how the game that should only take ten minutes could go on for an hour, thanks to that damn, purple plum card that would send you back to the beginning of the path to hell.

  “Maybe later. I need to take a shower and make my hair less crazy.”

  “Can we play after that?”

  Gotta love her persistence. “Tell you what. Let’s see how the day goes. Maybe we can play this afternoon, or hey, maybe there’s another game we could play.”

  “No, Candy Land is the best.”

  Good Lord, there must be something wired in the Harrison gene.

  * * *

  Sue’s hair and face were in perfect order before she left Emma’s room. She needed the extra shield around the others. A baby started to cry just as she entered the great room. She froze when she saw Trey patting the infant’s back. Actually, he held a blanketed bundle no larger than a bag of potatoes with a tuft of black hair coming out of the top. Just like Wes’s when he was an infant.

  A knot formed in her chest. How many times had she dreamt of him holding Wes that way? Of Trey wanting to hold his son? After they’d left the hospital, she’d secretly prayed for him to call and tell her he’d messed up, that he’d changed his mind. But after four weeks, she’d buried that hope. Seeing him now, with this babe in his arms, pulled that longing right back, along with the hurt she thought had passed years ago. She remained quiet, rubbing on her chest to ease the discomfort.

  He walked out of the kitchen, gently bouncing the baby, crooning soft words, but the infant was now squalling.

  “Noah wants Momma. I’ll get her,” Emma offered.

  “No, no.” He switched the baby to his other shoulder. “Let your parents sleep. We can do this.” The baby didn’t seem to agree and kept on crying.

  “Can I help?” she asked, no longer able to sit still while the tiny child suffered. He looked surprised to see her and a bit embarrassed, no doubt because of his inability to comfort his nephew.

  “I’m open to suggestions. I was hoping to let Patty and Dave sleep in. Apparently, Noah doesn’t like that plan.”

  She walked over and stroked the infant’s hair. “Oh, look at you, sweet Noah.” The singsong voice came naturally in the presence of such preciousness. “Why are you so upset?” The crying stopped for a second, the baby checking out the new sound, but then his wails returned, even louder. A checklist came back to her as if seventeen years had never passed.

  “Have you fed him?”

  “Five minutes ago.”

  “Burped him?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about his diaper?”

  “Just changed it.”

  Trey looked at her with eyes that contained a bit of panic and pleading. It was quite endearing to see him so vulnerable.

  “Does he have a hoo?”

  “A what?”

  “A pacifier. Emma, can you bring me one of Noah’s pacifiers?”

  “Okay,” the girl said, skipping into another room.

  She gently took the bundle from Trey. How little. “Oh precious. We’re gonna take care of you. Yes, we are, sweet baby.”

  Emma walked up and handed her the pacifier. Sue turned the baby on its side, as if nursing, then inserted the pacifier into his mouth. Noah’s tiny, bowed lips started working away on man’s greatest invention, and sweet silence filled the room. She leaned down and kissed his sweet-smelling head, then ran her fingers lightly over his soft spot. How could anyone not love a baby?

  When she looked up, Trey was staring at her, his eyes full of wonder. “How’d you do that?”

  “Deduction. He just wanted to suckle. This is the next best thing to Momma.” She couldn’t help but smile. “Call me the baby whisperer.”

  He returned the smile, but it was weak. His eyes transformed before her to a pained look. “I guess you learned all the tricks.”

  “It’s a mom thing. You hate to hear your child suffer, so you try anything that comes to mind. Mimi and I had a whole book of tricks.”

  He shifted his eyes to the baby. “I bet you did.” His voice was barely audible.

  “Will you make pancakes, Uncle Trey?” Emma looked up at them, oblivious to her uncle’s change in mood.

  After a few beats, he seemed to collect himself. “You got it, but only if you help.” He lifted Emma up in his arms as if she were as light as the infant. “Should we make them with blueberries?”

  “Yes. Can you make smiley faces like Momma?”

  He set the child on the kitchen counter. “Who do you think taught her?”

  Noah was now out to the world, but Sue wasn’t ready to let him go. He could sleep in her arms as well as his crib. She settled into a deep, cushioned recliner, rocking gently and keeping the baby close to her heart. He brought her as much comfort as the pacifier did him.

  Trey and Emma were measuring and stirring. He seemed unaware, or at least not concerned, with the flour that was missing the bowl and dusting the floor. Letting Emma take the lead, he was patience personified. Would he have been the same with a three-year-old Wes? Would he have had the fortitude as a med student? Lord knows, it was only with the support of Mimi that she had kept it together through the sleepless nights and terrible twos while trying to finish school.

  Noah let out a sigh, leaving the pacifier hanging loosely on his tiny lips
. She leaned down and kissed his forehead, stirring him just enough to put the hoo back in action. She pulled him in closer, vanquishing the what-ifs and relishing his sweet baby scent. The giggles of Emma and the deep, gentle sound of Trey’s voice brought her a peace she hadn’t experienced in years.

  * * *

  Trey had no interest in pancakes. He couldn’t keep his eyes off Sue and Noah. Madonna and child. Make that a sexy Madonna. Did all women look this beautiful holding a baby? He hadn’t appreciated it seventeen years earlier when he’d walked into that hospital room and found her beaming with love for their son. No, he’d only focused on his selfish fear.

  Her murmurs to Noah pulled him from the past and distracted him from his task. Too late, he noticed the mountain of baking powder Emma had added to the batter. Oh well, he’d seen a box of waffles in the freezer. They wouldn’t go hungry.

  Sue looked up and locked eyes with him. Her smile was the one she’d shared with him so many times when they were young, running around town, spending their days falling deeper for one another. When they were ignorant of how complicated life could be. Would be. At least for her.

  It took all his will to keep from walking over and grabbing her. His desire to have her was as strong as his need to beg for her forgiveness.

  “Is it time to cook?” Emma asked, her cheeks dusted with flour.

  “You know what? I think we should wait on the pancakes until everyone is up. What do you say we get some donuts?”

  “Yes!” Emma squealed and banged the counter.

  He checked to see if Noah was still out. Sue winked, and the hit almost took him down. He had to clamp his jaw shut from saying something stupid. Damn, he needed to get away. He grabbed Emma and whirled her around. “Come on then. Let’s get you dressed and hit the road while the donuts are still hot.” Before I make an ass of myself.

  * * *

  When they returned, Trey found Sue at the kitchen bar drinking a cup of coffee. “Did you save any for me?” she asked Emma, whose mouth was covered in chocolate.