by Becky Wade
She’d had a good head of steam going, but his words released it with a whoosh. She regarded him incredulously, and yet she could hardly accuse him of making her an offer he had no intention of fulfilling . . . not when a gleaming teal Prius sat outside in her parking spot. “Do I look like a gold digger to you, Ty?”
“Maybe a really small, pretty one.”
“You just offended and complimented me in the same sentence.”
“Which takes skill.”
She blew out a breath and blotted her hands on the dish towel before swinging it back over her shoulder. “I am not a gold digger.”
“Don’t get your hackles up, Celia. I know you’re not. I was just teasing you.”
“Addie’s not a gold digger, either. You do know that Addie’s love isn’t for sale, right?” She assessed him, trying to read his intentions. “You can’t buy your way into her life. Becoming her father is going to take years.”
“I’m just trying to make up for lost time.”
“You can’t make up for lost time with your credit card, Ty. That’s not what love is.”
“Fine, but I want you to know that if you decide to relocate, I’ll also pay your moving expenses.” He pulled off another piece of bread. “I’ll set up the house inside any way you like. I’ll handle everything. If you guys move this summer, Addie can start kindergarten at the same time as all the other kids there. It’s the perfect time to go.”
She placed what remained of the loaf of bread on the opposite side of the stove, out of his reach. “I may hold Addie back a year. She has a late summer birthday. She’ll be the youngest in her whole grade.”
He tilted his head, seeming to weigh her words for truth.
Celia wished she had a single reason, other than Addie’s summer birthdate, to hold her back. Addie was a quick-minded only child, mature for her years, way ahead academically. She was ready for school.
“You didn’t really mean that,” Ty said, “about holding Addie back.”
“No.”
“So move to Holley in time for kindergarten.”
“You travel almost all the time. Why would you want us to move to Holley when you yourself are hardly ever there?”
“I’m there more than I’m anywhere. And I want my child to grow up in Texas like I did. I’ve got land there for her to play on, horses.”
Had he seen what had happened to Bonnie Blue Butler in Gone With the Wind? “My answer’s no. We’re not moving.”
“Just think about it. The offer’s good.”
They locked wills—hers fiery, his understated—different, but equally matched.
He broke the moment by moving off to amble around her kitchen, straightening her stack of mail. Studying the photos on the fridge. Thumbing her set of keys. “What happened to the key ring I gave you?”
“Hmm? Oh. It must have fallen off somewhere.” She shrugged with fake innocence. “Accidentally.” She carried the pot with the pasta to the sink and poured the contents over a colander. “How long are you in town?” Thirty more minutes? Was that too much to hope?
“I fly out tomorrow night. I’d like to spend the day with Addie tomorrow. Would that be okay?”
She bit her lip.
“Just during the time you’re at work.”
“What do you have in mind?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Normal stuff. A movie. I thought I’d take her to lunch. The park.”
She wanted to reject this request as emphatically as she’d rejected the Holley thing. But her mind went back over the past four weeks of phone calls. Technically, asking to spend a few hours with Addie wasn’t unreasonable. If she got too territorial, she feared he’d bring in lawyers.
“Celia?” he prompted.
“All right, but I’m going to put together some . . . some rules. And I’ll need to be able to reach you at all times on your phone.”
“Deal.”
A brief knock sounded, followed by girls’ voices.
“I’ll hide.” Ty gestured toward the laundry room.
Celia chatted with her neighbor for a bit, thanked her for having Addie, then waved at the mother-daughter pair as the two headed back toward their own apartment.
“Did you have fun?” she asked Addie.
“Yep.”
Tenderly, Celia took Addie’s cheeks in her hands, kissed the top of her head, then straightened a few of the dark blond strands that had fallen forward over her barrette. Tempting, oh so tempting, to leave Ty in the laundry room all evening. If only he was timid or compliant enough to stay there. “Interested in a surprise?”
Four words guaranteed to catch the attention of any child. “A surprise? Yes!”
“Let’s see if I can come up with three clues. Hmm . . .” Celia pretended to think hard. “One. Map of the United States.”
Addie tipped her head.
“Two. Bull rider.”
Addie gasped, her thin form straightening tall.
“Three—”
“Doesn’t know much about princesses.” Ty walked around the corner. “I thought I’d better stop by for another lesson.”
Celia watched shyness overcome Addie. Her daughter stayed rooted to the spot, too self-conscious to hug Ty or even look directly at him and at the same time, too ecstatic to contain her delight. She beamed. She blushed. She exhibited all the telltale signs of Ty’s legendary effect on females.
Rookie, Celia thought.
“You’re wearing your boots,” Ty said, pride in his tone.
“I wear them every day.”
“You’re breaking ’em in, huh? Are they comfortable?”
“Oh yes.” Addie peeked up at him, her face sincere. “I love my boots.”
Despite the years of etiquette coaching Celia had given Addie, Addie invited Ty to stay for dinner without asking Celia first. Since Celia couldn’t veto the idea in front of Ty, he ended up staying and eating spaghetti with them. Afterward, he followed Addie to her room and sat through a long princess-education session.
Celia wasn’t sure what else to do with herself while they were back there together, so she sat at her kitchen table with a note pad and pen.
A Few Rules For Your Time With Addie, she wrote at the top of the page.
#1. Please avoid foods with partially hydrogenated oils, high fructose corn syrup, GMOs, trans fats, and red dye.
#2. To ride in a car, Addie needs a booster seat and seat belt at all times. I recommend driving below the speed limit and defensively.
#3. If you’re going to bike, or do any other activity where she might fall (roller-skating, skateboarding, etc,) she’ll have to wear a helmet and, depending on the activity, knee and elbow pads.
#4. She’s not allowed to see anything other than G-rated movies.
#5. If you take her to Mountain View Park, be aware that the metal slide is fast and dangerous. If you take her to Fielding Park, don’t go near the swings. The metal bolts are deteriorating. There’s a pond at Valley North Park that she could fall into, so I’d stay away from that park altogether.
*** Please pick her up at 7:50 a.m. and bring her back no later than 5:30 p.m. In between, please keep your cell phone charged and nearby.
Celia wanted to jot down at least ten more rules, but she refrained. She didn’t want him to think she was a worrier.
Celia was one strange baby momma.
Why hadn’t she, Ty wondered as he drove away from River Run, been trying to gouge him for money all these years? Isn’t that what baby mommas were known for? He would’ve been generous. People hit him up for money just about every day of the week—charities, fund-raising committees, friends and distant family members down on their luck, the Society for the Restoration of Holley. He had the funds to answer requests with signed checks. It made him happy to give people money.
Celia, though? His legal wife and the mother of his child? He could hardly force the stubborn thing to accept his help. It was downright insulting.
He stopped for a red light and pulled her li
st of rules for his day with Addie from the front pocket of his jeans. GMOs? He didn’t even know what that meant, but he was pretty sure that Celia wouldn’t approve of a cheeseburger and fries from McDonald’s, something he’d eaten plenty as a kid. What were the chances that he’d even be able to find a G-rated movie in Corvallis? Kneepads? Dangerous slides? C’mon.
When he reached his hotel room, he stripped off his T-shirt, boots, and socks. He found the remote under his reading glasses and an issue of Investor’s Business Daily. Propped up in bed, he surfed channels, his head filled not with the shows on the screen, but with Celia. Kind of the way he’d been surfing channels with his head full of her for the past month straight. Only worse, because he’d just come from seeing her.
For the first few weeks after he’d found out about Addie, he’d rolled resentment toward Celia around and around in his mouth the way he would a cough drop. She’d kept his child a secret from him, and it had felt good to stay angry about it. In time, though, the cough drop had begun to melt. She’d kept his child from him because he’d acted like a rotten jerk to her.
If he could feel a calm sort of kindness toward Celia, that would be good. That’s what he’d been going for tonight.
Instead, when she’d opened her door, pleasure had rushed through him at the sight of her. After years on the road, seeing her standing in front of him with a bright, good-smelling house behind her had felt like coming home. The kind of home that had nothing to do with her fool apartment.
He couldn’t help but like her fighting spirit. She was way smarter and more independent than she had a right to be. And all that cutting humor of hers could make him laugh, really laugh. Which was nothing like the fake chuckles he usually gave women.
He even approved of the nickname she’d given him. He’d have preferred something more masculine, but showboat was pretty funny. He’d pretended to hate it, because he knew anything less would have stolen her fun.
He hadn’t wanted to steal her fun, not when the sight of her cooking dinner had been one of the sexiest things he’d seen in years. The whole evening—the cooking, that little yellow shirt, her feistiness, their dinner with Addie—made him remember why he’d gone so stupid over Celia in Vegas in the first place.
See, this was what living like a monk for five and a half years did to a man. It made him nuts in the head. He was so starved for a girlfriend that he was lying in a hotel room in Oregon, wanting Celia. He couldn’t have Celia. She didn’t even like him. He couldn’t trust her. He sure as anything couldn’t do anything to hurt her again, ever. Not with Addie in the mix. And the cherry on top? An attraction to Celia could ruin—again—any chance at a future with Tawny, who was the most perfect woman in the world.
He flicked past an educational show about the ocean, then a show about redneck alligator hunters, before stopping on UFC fighting.
Pushing a hand behind his head, he watched two guys beat each other up inside the octagon.
He knew women who were prettier than Celia. Women who wore lower-cut shirts and tight-fitting Western jeans. Women who were, heaven knows, a long shot nicer to him.
He’d do well to remember that Tawny was both sweet and a Grade A knockout. With her long brunette hair and athletic body, Tawny could have been a bikini model if she hadn’t decided to become a paralegal.
He’d finally earned the right to win Tawny’s heart. Which was exactly what he planned to do as soon as she broke up with her pediatrician boyfriend.
Unfortunately, he’d need to finish out the season before he’d have a block of time in Holley that he could use to romance Tawny. Tomorrow night he’d fly to Nashville for an event and after that Billings, San Antonio, and Boise.
His upcoming schedule left him cold. A lot of things had lost their shine for him over the years, but his bull riding never had. He was hard-core committed to it. His intense drive to win at it had shaped his whole adult life.
Until lately. Lately, his mind had begun to wander, and his competitive edge had started to dull. He’d come to care more about talking on the phone to a girl who tracked his travels on a US map that hung on the wall next to Celia’s laundry room.
Addie had told him about the map a while back, but seeing it had hit him in a soft spot. Him, whose body had been so hardened over the years, that he hadn’t thought it had a soft spot left.
Turned out his child was his soft spot, which he could live with.
But somehow, against all odds, Murphy’s Law, and flat-out common sense, Celia had the power to be his soft spot, too. And that, he couldn’t allow.
Chapter Nine
Ty arrived the next morning driving a shiny black Escalade. Celia could only imagine what it had cost him to rent a car like that from the airport. Enough to cover groceries for a month plus the new winter clothes Addie would need come fall, probably.
Celia had the booster seat ready. Despite feeling utterly sick to her stomach, she positioned it on one of the Escalade’s second-row seats. She helped Addie climb into the car. “Have a great time.”
“I will. ’Bye, Mom.” Addie looked every bit as excited as she would have if Ty were taking her to Disneyland.
Celia made herself shut Addie’s door. She glanced up at Ty, who stood next to her in the parking lot. “Did you read my rules?”
“Every one.” He let a few seconds pass. “You good?”
She nodded. “Will you be very careful?”
“Very.”
“Okay. Go on.”
He got behind the wheel. As the Escalade eased away, Celia waved at Addie through the tinted glass. In Addie’s whole life Celia had only left her at day care or with Uncle Danny. She had no practice trusting her to anyone else. Her lips formed a plastic smile while her mind formed the thought This might be the last time I ever see my child.
Her heart shriveled into a small and terrified ball.
An anxious mother was of no worth to her employer.
For the first few hours of her workday, Celia worried that Ty would abduct Addie. She’d seen too many news reports about mothers or fathers who let their child visit the other parent only to have that child stolen away to a foreign country. When she could no longer stand the horrible scenarios filling her imagination, she sent Ty a text. How’s it going?
Good, he answered right away. His response did not completely mollify her because she had no way of proving his location. He could be texting her from onboard a plane about to depart for Brazil.
Her phone buzzed. We’re watching a really bad Winnie-the-Pooh movie at the dollar theater, he texted.
For the next few hours, Celia worried about Addie running into the street. Addie hadn’t tried to run into the street since she was two, but today might be the day she attempted it, and Celia hadn’t expressly warned Ty of that danger in her rules. Everything okay? She hit Send on her message.
Yes. Sitting down for lunch. After this, we’ll go to the park.
For the next few hours Celia worried that Ty wouldn’t watch Addie closely enough at the park. Parent abduction wasn’t the only kind of abduction. A stranger could snatch Addie and . . . and sell her into the slave trade overseas. It happened. Before she could text Ty, he texted her. We’re having fun. I’m being careful.
For the last few hours, Celia worried that they’d get in a car accident. It might not even be Ty’s fault. The most responsible of citizens sometimes got creamed by drunk drivers. Doing well?
Yes. We’re shopping for toys.
When Addie sees a toy she likes, Celia typed back, I tell her she can either earn money to pay for it by doing chores or put it on her birthday list.
I’m letting her buy whatever she wants.
Celia regarded the message with horror. Her fingertips punched at her phone. You may buy her one thing.
Five?
One!
Three?
Two. No more.
At the end of the day, Celia took up a position outside her apartment, phone in hand, waiting. When the Escalade turned on
to the road leading to River Run, her hunched and knotted shoulders eased for the first time all day. The car appeared to be whole and was bringing Addie back a full ten minutes ahead of schedule.
As soon as the car came to a stop, Celia opened the rear door for Addie, helped her down, and hugged her.
Ty climbed from the driver’s seat looking like the definition of calm. “How’s it going?”
“Fine.”
The knowing light in his eyes told her he’d guessed at the agonies she’d been putting herself through. He crossed to the back of the SUV, popped the trunk, and took out two boxes. The huge one held a castle-shaped doll house for princesses. The flat, medium-sized one held a tablet computer.
When Celia opened her mouth to protest, Ty winked at her. “We only got two things.”
“But—”
He strode off, carrying the boxes. “Stay where you are. I’ll set these inside.”
“Isn’t he awesome, Mom?” Addie whispered. “He’s really awesome.”
“Did you have fun?”
In reverent tones, Addie updated Celia on her day until Ty rejoined them.
“I’ve got to take off for the airport, Addie. Can I get a hug?”
Addie moved into his open arms.
Ty embraced her respectfully, not too tight, not lifting her, not too long. “See you later.”
“See you later,” Addie agreed.
He straightened and faced Celia, a devilish cast to his expression. “Hug?”
He’d put her in a pickle, and he knew it. With Addie watching, she couldn’t very well shout, “No!” and bolt indoors. She gave him a stiff side hug, the kind one would offer a relative one didn’t like. He was warm. He felt like unforgiving muscle, looked like cowboy, and smelled like pine. “No touching,” she whispered into the space near the side of his neck. “Remember?”
“Must have slipped my mind.” He released her and crossed to the car. “’Bye, ladies.”
Celia and Addie watched the Escalade drive away. Just that fast, like the snap of fingers, Celia and Addie were alone again, returned to their regular, blissfully Ty-free life.
