“Oh, yeah,” Stevie said, “I’d be happy to try him out for you.”
“Not a chance, blondie. You can have Frank, instead.”
“Gee, thanks,” she said dryly.
“Hey,” Carla said, smiling as she reached for her coffee, “what’re friends for?”
* * *
“And this is Carla when she was a tree in the second-grade Christmas play.”
Mama’s voice stabbed through Carla’s head like a dagger, only, unfortunately, not as lethal. They’d made it through dinner—of course she’d shown up. It was eat at Mama’s with Jackson or nuke another grim pot pie. But with there only being Carla, Jackson, and Reese for her to dote on, Mama had taken her act up to new levels.
Not only had she pointed out that her only daughter was getting old and should hurry up if she ever wanted to have children … now she’d hauled out the family photo albums. Thank God that when she was only seven, Carla’d had the presence of mind to burn the naked baby pictures of herself.
Well, she’d actually done it so Nick would stop embarrassing her by showing them to his friends. Still, in the long run, that act had been worth the spanking she’d received.
“She was a good tree,” Mama insisted to Jackson. “Very convincing.”
Lord, isn’t a hangover enough punishment for one day?
“She looks very … leafy,” he finished, and flashed Carla a commiserating smile.
“Mama.” Carla looked across the dining room table at the woman she dearly loved and yet wanted to strangle. “I’m sure Jackson doesn’t want to look at old pictures.”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“Sure,” Jackson said. “Why wouldn’t he?”
“You’re a big help.”
He smiled at her again, and damned if her internal organs didn’t start sparkling. Not a good thing. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t not do it, either, apparently. But the point was, she had to find a way to stop indulging in fantasies about him. Despite Stevie’s insistence that it would be easy to sleep with him and move on, Carla was pretty sure that wouldn’t be an option for her.
Damn it.
Reese flipped through the pages of the photo album, under her father’s indulgent gaze, until suddenly she stopped and pointed to one particular picture. She smiled and stroked her fingertip across the glossy surface of the photo and Carla glanced at it only long enough to know she didn’t want to talk about it.
Naturally, her mother didn’t share her reticence.
“Ah,” Mama said. “You like that, eh? That was three years ago.”
Carla’s insides tightened.
Jackson watched Carla’s reaction to the photo of her and Abbey and couldn’t help being intrigued. But he didn’t have to ask any questions. Angela Candellano puffed up proudly and volunteered the information he wanted.
“My Carla, she got a medal that day. From the mayor.” She looked at her daughter and practically beamed. “For being brave and finding a little lost girl.”
“Really?” Jackson prompted, wanting more. Needing to know more about this woman who’d devoted so many years to something that she now didn’t even want to discuss.
“Her papa”—she crossed herself—“God rest his soul, was so proud. I have the medal framed, if you want to see it, and—”
Carla pushed up from the table. “Another time, okay, Mama?” she said, and her voice was tight despite the forced smile curving her mouth. “It’s late and—”
Her mother shook her head and clucked her tongue. Setting Reese onto her feet, the older woman stood up and walked around the table to stand in front of her daughter. Despite the age and height difference between the two, Jackson was struck by how much alike the two women were. Reaching up, Angela cupped Carla’s cheek in the palm of her hand and, ignoring her audience, said softly, “You should stop this, Carla. You worked hard. You tried.”
Memories crowded to the front of her mind. The boy she’d failed. The misery of his parents.
“Mama, I don’t want to—”
“Talk about it,” Mama finished for her. “I know. But it’s a sin to turn your back when so many people need your help.”
“Nobody needs me, Mama,” she said just as quietly, and looked into the brown eyes that still shone with the same steady love and understanding Carla had known and counted on all her life.
“Don’t be foolish, Carla,” her mother said. “Open your eyes. Your heart.”
She couldn’t. When you opened your heart, it got broken. And she didn’t think she could stand that kind of pain again. Mama meant well, but she didn’t know. Didn’t know what it had been like to stand in front of that boy’s parents and witness their misery. To offer apologies and know it would never be enough. To realize that if she’d only been a little faster, a little better, that child would have been going home to pizza and ice cream.
Instead of being zipped up into a dark green body bag.
She swallowed hard, pushed the images away, and said only, “Thanks for dinner, Mama.”
“Stubborn. Like your papa.”
She smiled. “Like my mama.”
“Stubborn? Me?” She sniffed, waved a dismissive hand, then turned to Jackson. “You’ll take some cannoli home for dessert.” Glancing back at Carla, she added, “You? I don’t think so.”
* * *
On the moonlit walk home, it took all of Jackson’s willpower to keep from bringing up the very subject she’d been so eager to change back at the house. But only last night they’d argued about it, and he just didn’t want to go there again.
The ocean’s distant roar pounded like a heartbeat on the cool night air. Reese walked between them, holding their hands, and Abbey strolled alongside, as if she were a nanny keeping an eye on her charges. And Jackson realized it felt … good to be here. Like this. With Carla and Reese. He glanced down at his daughter and warmth spread through him as he realized again how much she’d gained in the few short weeks they’d been in Chandler.
And looking at Carla, he silently admitted how much he’d gained, too.
Hell, he’d never even been around a family like the Candellanos. Growing up in a series of foster homes hadn’t taught him a damn thing about how people who loved one another lived. Then he’d met Diane, but the Barringtons were as far removed from the Candellanos as … well, Chandler was from New York City. They weren’t even similar. The Barringtons lived by a set of rules, first and foremost of which was: Appearances are everything. And he had to give them credit. From the outside looking in, they seemed to have everything. It wasn’t until he’d actually married Diane that he’d seen past the carefully constructed facade the Barringtons presented to the world. And discovered that there was nothing at all behind it.
“Silence is an unfair weapon.”
“What?” He glanced at Carla and felt the now-familiar kick-start to his bloodstream. Moonlight really did amazing things for her. Even the ends of her hair seemed to shine.
“Silence,” she repeated. “You’re being even more quiet than usual. Which tells me that, thanks to my family, you’re seriously regretting your idea to spend the summer in Chandler, or…”
“Or,” he prompted.
“You’re trying to figure out a way to keep my share of the cannoli.”
“Your share?” He grinned. “I’m sure I heard your mother say you didn’t get any.”
“She didn’t mean that.”
“She sounded serious.”
“Trust me,” Carla said. “My mother’s always trying to feed me. She thinks I’m too skinny.”
“You’re not.”
“Gee, thanks. Okay, maybe I can do without the cannoli.”
A woman’s weight. A wise man never opened that door. Even accidentally. “I didn’t mean that; I just meant—”
“Feeling guilty?”
“A little, and I’m not sure why.”
She laughed shortly. “Welcome to my world.”
Between them, Reese jumped up, letting the two of t
hem take her weight. Carla staggered into Jackson and felt the near electrical shock of heat splinter through her body. It had been way too long since she’d felt anything remotely like this. And damned if she wouldn’t like to feel more of it. Actually, what she’d like to do was get Reese home and tucked into bed—and then, after an hour or two of foreplay, take the girl’s daddy to bed.
But the hard reality was, she had to go home, hop in her car, and spend the night trailing Tony to wherever he was disappearing to. Another reason to be mad at her brother—besides the obvious, him making Beth miserable—now Carla could add the crime of ruining her own potential sex life.
And man, did he have potential.
Jackson looked down at her, still smiling, and everything inside her lit up with an eagerness that shook Carla right down to her bones. Gazes locked, neither of them said anything. Seconds ticked past, slowly, slowly, as he lowered his head toward hers. His smile faded, his eyes went dark and smoky in the moonlight, and Carla tipped her head back, waiting for that first brush of his lips against hers.
When it came, it was better than she’d hoped. And less than she wanted. A soft, brief kiss that wouldn’t have satisfied a teenager on her first date. Yet it sizzled through Carla’s body with enough power to weaken her knees and make her yearn for more.
“Whoa.”
“Yeah,” he said, and his gaze moved over her face as if burning her features into his memory. “That was … good.”
“I was gonna go with ‘great,’” she said, “but okay.”
“Carla—”
Headlights sliced through the darkness like twin laser beams, shattering the intimate spell and canceling whatever it was he’d been about to say. Which was probably just as well, Carla thought with the last rational brain cell she had. This was going nowhere fast. Especially with a six-year-old still standing between them. Literally and figuratively.
Each of them keeping a tight hold on Reese’s hands, they took a couple of steps back from the road, just to be safe. But the car didn’t race past. Instead, it slowed, then stopped alongside them.
A rental, it was a top-of-the-line black sedan, and for one brief moment Carla actually considered Virginia’s opinion that Jackson worked for the mob. If this wasn’t a “Godfather” car, she’d eat it.
But one glance at him and she knew he was as confused by all of this as she was. So apparently this wasn’t a clandestine prearranged meeting between Jackson and the local Mafia.
Just then, the passenger side window slid soundlessly down and Carla saw an older woman with perfectly styled hair and grim, straight lips staring at them. She was still pretty, in that tight-faced way that always indicated at least one major face-lift. But even in the moonlight, Carla could see the flash of indignation in her pale ice-colored eyes.
“Jackson,” the woman said, her tone frosty with disapproval as she gave Carla a quick once-over, then dismissed her, “this is how you’re planning to ‘cure’ my granddaughter?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
REESE SHIFTED POSITION SLIGHTLY, edging herself just behind Carla’s left leg. She felt the child’s uneasiness as if it were a palpable thing—which told her exactly what Reese thought of the older people in the snazzy car.
Grandparents, huh?
Carla’s gaze slid back to the woman still glaring daggers at Jackson. Oh, yeah, she looked like the “have a chocolate chip cookie; come and climb on Grandma’s lap” type. God. The look on that woman’s face was enough to freeze your blood. Any kid would have backed up. Hell, it was all Carla could do not to cross herself.
“Well, Jackson?” the woman snapped, sparing Carla another quick look. “Nothing to say for yourself?”
“Hello, Phyllis. This is a surprise.”
And not a pleasant one, Carla thought. His voice sounded tight, and she heard the anger in its undertones. But she was pretty sure the older woman hadn’t. Or if she had, she obviously didn’t care. Carla had the immediate urge to turn around, go back to her mother’s house, and apologize for every crappy thing she’d ever said or thought about her.
The older woman turned to the man behind the steering wheel, hidden in the shadowy interior of the car. “Now do you see why I insisted we come, Walter?” she demanded.
“Why did you come?” Jackson asked, and the woman looked directly at Carla before answering.
“That is family business, which I believe I prefer to discuss in private. And certainly not on a public street.”
Christ. Carla half-expected the woman to lunge out of her car, screech at the sky, and call down her flying monkeys.
If possible, the temperature dropped another ten degrees. Jackson went absolutely rigid. His features looked as if they’d been carved in stone, except for a telltale muscle twitch in his jaw.
“Fine.” He waved one hand. “The first driveway on the right. We’ll be right there.”
“Reese can ride with us.” She moved to open the car door, but Jackson was too quick for her. He laid one hand on the door and kept it closed.
“We’ll be there in a minute.” Clearly he wasn’t going to budge on this one, and apparently even the woman in the car realized it.
“Oh, very well.” The window hummed back up and the car took off.
Once they were gone, Carla gave Reese’s hand a quick squeeze, then turned the girl over to her father. Mindful of the fact that the child was standing right there, she said only, “Wow, feel the warmth.”
He gave a quick look at the daughter now clinging to his thigh. “Yeah, the Barringtons are real charmers.”
“Reese’s grandparents?”
He nodded. “My late wife’s parents.”
“They seem…” she let the sentence trail off, since her mother had always told her if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.
“Lethal?” he finished for her, with a quick look over his shoulder at the black car parked in his driveway. “They are.”
Worry creased his features and Carla had the urge to reach out and touch him. To reassure him that everything would be all right. Which was ridiculous, since she didn’t know that anything was wrong. And if it was, she had no idea what it was and how to fix it. Still, the impulse was there, and that was something she hadn’t felt in a long time.
A car horn beeped.
They looked and saw the woman standing beside the car, watching them. Even from a distance, Carla felt the icy stare directed right at her. And she could almost understand it. Their daughter, Reese’s mother, was dead. And when they come to visit, they find their former son-in-law kissing someone else.
Not much of a kiss in the grand scheme of things, Carla told herself, but given time, it might have been. It had sure gotten off to a good start. But she and Jackson wouldn’t be picking up where they’d left off. Not with the sentinel standing in the driveway watching their every move.
“I guess you’d better go.”
“Yeah.” He looked at the driveway again before turning back to Carla. “Look, I’m sorry she was rude to you.”
She shook her head and that wonderful hair of hers fell in wild curls around her face, making Jackson want to reach out and thread his fingers through them. To see for himself if they were as soft as they looked. And then he wanted to kiss her again. Deeper, longer. He wanted to feel her warmth snake through him until it filled him, easing away all the dark, cold corners inside.
The car horn beeped again and this time it served as a reminder to Jackson that he didn’t deserve to lose those cold, dark places. Hell, he’d earned every one of them. Diane might have paid the price, but he was carrying the scars.
“Hey, no biggie,” Carla said with a shrug.
“Yeah, it was.” Phyllis could be as smug and vicious with him as she wanted to be. She had her reasons and he couldn’t blame her for them. But she’d had no right to turn those glacier eyes on Carla.
“I’ll survive.” She smiled at him. “But I won’t be giving back the ruby slippers. And that goes for my litt
le dog, too.”
The reference hit him instantly. The Wizard of Oz. The wicked witch. Appropriate. And Carla’d only seen the woman for a couple of minutes. Apparently, though, she was an excellent judge of character. He laughed shortly, then glanced at the star-swept sky overhead. “Never a falling house around when you need one.”
Abbey leaned in to Carla’s left leg and the heavy, solid weight felt comforting. Almost as if the golden knew Carla was having a couple of lousy minutes and was trying to help. But she wasn’t the one who really needed the assistance, she told herself. Heck, she didn’t have to go over to that quiet house and face those people. It was Jackson and Reese she felt sorry for.
Well, mostly the little girl. After all, Jackson had willingly married into that family and she had to guess he’d met Diane’s parents before he’d married her. But Reese … poor thing, she still held a fistful of her daddy’s slacks and was trying to be as invisible as she could be. Heck, Carla even felt a momentary flash of sympathy for Diane, the child’s late mother. Being raised by that cold fish of a woman couldn’t have been a picnic.
But she couldn’t offer comfort to a dead woman, so instead, she gave it to Reese. Going down on one knee, Carla hooked one arm around Abbey’s neck and avoided a sloppy doggy kiss while she looked directly into Reese’s eyes. “I know you have to go and see your grandparents now,” she said, and inwardly winced when the girl nearly cringed. “But tomorrow, how about you come over and help me take the puppies to the vet for their shots?”
Instantly Reese’s eyes went wide with excitement. She nodded hard and even let go of her father long enough to reach out and hug Carla. Stunned, she didn’t even react for a minute. The child was usually so reserved, so locked up tight, that this spontaneous hug was completely out of the blue. But as those little arms went around her neck, Carla felt them snake around her heart just as tightly.
Such a tiny thing to be so alone, she thought, enjoying the feel of the little girl’s face buried in the curve of her neck. But she wasn’t really alone, was she? She had a father who clearly adored her. And grandparents, such as they were.
Finding You Page 13
