by Bella Andre
Seeing his father, Noah squealed and squirmed away from her. “Daddy,” he shouted in his high, sweet voice as he ran along the pool’s edge. “Guess what I just did!”
“Don’t run,” she called out, Matt echoing her words.
But Noah was too focused on his daddy to listen as he cut the corner of the pool. Her heart in her throat, Ari started running too. But she wasn’t fast enough to stop Noah from tripping.
Someone was shouting, maybe screaming—it could have been her. Then Noah’s little voice cried, “Daddy!” as he fell, his skull heading toward the concrete lip of the pool.
The water exploded with a great splash as Matt dove into the shallow end just as Ari reached the edge. But Noah fell before she could catch him.
She’d never believed in miracles until that moment, when Matt seemed to grab Noah right out of the air before he actually plunged into the water. He held the little boy’s body in his arms as though he were a rare jewel, while Noah squalled.
Then she saw the splash of blood on Noah’s forehead, and her ears rang with terror, her voice dried up.
“Call Doreen now!” Matt ordered. “Tell her we need to go to the hospital.”
He might have shouted. She might only have been reading lips. Cradling his precious son in his arms as Noah cried, Matt slogged to the stairs. Water streamed from them both as he climbed out.
Ari had already grabbed her phone. Doreen answered immediately, and Ari shouted instructions she couldn’t actually hear over the roar in her ears.
“I think he hit his head.” Matt ran his shaking hand over Noah’s scalp. “It’s okay, buddy. Daddy’ll take care of you.”
He carried Noah across the deck while Ari followed. Matt’s sodden suit left a trail over the sun porch, then the floor, and Doreen met them at the front door.
“The car’s ready.” Matt’s driver took in Noah’s pale face and Matt’s ruined suit, then ran down the front steps to open the car door, her blond ponytail bouncing, so perky and out of place in the moment.
They piled into the backseat, Noah in Matt’s arms and Ari crowded against them, her hand on Noah’s forehead.
She couldn’t feel a lump, and she prayed he’d suffered no more than a scrape and a bruise. He’d taken a tumble—and scared the living daylights out of them—but his daddy had saved him.
Then she lifted her gaze from Noah. And saw Matt’s stricken face.
* * *
How could I have let this happen?
Matt shouldn’t have surprised them. And he should have been more strict with Noah about never running by the pool. But Noah sped everywhere, and he was always excited when Matt got home.
“He’s going to be just fine,” Ari said softly.
She was trying to soothe him, but just as he hadn’t stopped Noah’s tumble into the pool’s edge, he couldn’t stop the jumble of his guilt-ridden thoughts either.
He swallowed hard, his teeth grinding together. Noah no longer whimpered and lay quietly in his arms as Doreen guided the big car through the streets. Thank God the hospital wasn’t far.
“It’s probably just a scrape.”
He could barely hear Ari’s words when he was so frozen with terror and when he kept seeing Noah falling on repeat inside his head.
“It was an accident,” she said softly. “That’s how kids are, always rushing.”
But accidents didn’t happen to Noah. Matt had vowed to always protect his kid. Always. He was worth more than an oil baron or a social media king, and if he couldn’t protect his kid no matter what, then what was the use of all that money?
He wanted to yell at Doreen to drive like the wind. An ambulance would have had sirens, but would also have taken longer to get to them.
All the while, Ari’s voice in his ear kept him just on this side of sanity. “All kids fall when they’re running. They fall when they’re riding their bikes. They have little accidents.”
They had huge ones as well. Like Jeremy, Will’s soon-to-be brother-in-law. He’d been hit by a car at the age of seven while riding his bike, and he’d never been the same. He was a great kid, but he would always be a kid, even at eighteen. That accident had robbed him of the chance of ever growing into a man.
The car swayed into a turn, and Matt held Noah tighter. Everyone thought Matt was too powerful to break. But his son was where he doubted himself. Because Noah was the most important thing in the entire world.
And if he couldn’t step up to protect this precious child, then what the hell good was he?
Doreen drew the car up beneath the Emergency Room portico, and Matt climbed out with Noah still clinging to him.
“Daddy? I’m cold,” Noah whimpered as Matt carried him through the automatic doors. His soaked bathing suit had dropped a few degrees in the air conditioning.
Ari tore off her terrycloth cover-up. “Put this on, sweetie.” She tucked the terry robe around Noah. Then she rubbed Matt’s arm. “You must be freezing.”
He was so cold his teeth wanted to chatter. But it wasn’t his wet clothing. It wasn’t the air conditioning.
It was his failure to protect his son.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, they were in an examining cubicle separated from the other cubes by a curtain. Matt could hear the low murmur of voices, but his focus was solely on Noah. A nurse had brought him scrubs to change into, and a pair for Ari as well since she was shivering in her swimsuit.
“Can I have another lollipop?” Noah asked.
“As soon as I’ve finished the exam, but only if your father says it’s all right,” the doctor said. Matt tried to take solace in the experience lining her face. She gently probed Noah’s scalp, his arms, his legs, then finally stepped back. “You’ve just got a few scrapes and bruises.” At Matt’s nod, she held out the jar for Noah to choose a purple lollipop. “I’ll let Jami, my wonderful assistant, clean up that scrape on your forehead.”
Ari put her hand on Noah’s knee as the nurse came over with alcohol wipes, the pungent smell making Matt’s eyes water.
He lowered his voice for the doctor’s ears only. “Doesn’t he need a CT scan to make sure he doesn’t have a concussion?”
The smile the doctor gave him reminded him of Susan. “Mr. Tremont, he’s fine. I’d be willing to bet he scraped his head against the pool’s edge rather than actually hitting it. There’s no bump. Just take him home, give him some SpaghettiOs, and let him rest.” Noah had started chattering about SpaghettiOs and mummies and gorillas the moment the doctor gave him the first lollipop and began her exam. “You have nothing to worry about.”
If he could think rationally about what had happened, if he could stop replaying that recording in his brain of Noah falling, he might be able to see that the doctor and Ari were right about the scrape. But he never wanted his son to feel the kind of pain he’d experienced himself.
Matt would never forget falling off his bike when he was trying to get away from the neighborhood bullies who’d made his life a living hell. To this day, he remembered their laughter and that long walk home, his arm cradled against his stomach. He’d known his dad was going to be madder than ever. Don’t be such a freaking weenie and How the hell did I raise such a wimp? were two of his favorite refrains. That day, his father told him to buck up, his mother nodding furiously behind him. Somehow, that was even worse, the fact that his mother hadn’t believed it was her job to protect him, and that she’d agreed as his father said, “We can’t afford no freaking emergency room for a stupid sprained wrist just because the idiot couldn’t stay on his bike.”
It was the school principal, not his father, not even his mother, who had ended up sending Matt to the doctor, where an X-ray revealed the break in his arm. His dad had been hugely pissed about that bill. He’d even demanded the school pay for it since they were the ones who’d sent Matt to the hospital. He’d stopped only when they mentioned Social Services.
It was the Mavericks who finally saved Matt—along with Susan and Bob, who looked
out for him and turned him into a worthwhile human being. Never his parents. And now he would do anything to protect Noah, spend every penny. He would never let his son be bullied, never let him get hurt.
But what if Matt couldn’t always rescue Noah, just like he hadn’t rescued himself when he was a kid and the other Mavericks had needed to protect him? What if he wasn’t capable of stepping up when push really came to shove? What if he wasn’t there when his son needed him most?
As if she could sense his inner turmoil, the doctor said again, “He’s fine. Your wife is taking care of him too.”
He focused on Ari still rubbing Noah’s leg while the nurse pressed the square SpongeBob bandage to Noah’s forehead as his son chattered cheerfully. And the words he’d been about to say—she’s not my wife—never made it past his lips.
The doctor squeezed his arm. “Take your family home and spend some quality time together. And stop worrying about Noah.”
Didn’t she get it? He would never stop worrying about his son.
Never.
Chapter Seven
They’d both long since changed out of the scrubs the nursing staff had given them as Ari and Matt got Noah ready for bed. The little boy’s color was back, and the SpongeBob bandage on his forehead was a badge of honor.
“I was real brave, wasn’t I?” He stood on the small stool in his bathroom so he could reach the sink as he brushed his teeth.
“You sure were,” Ari said. She turned to Matt with a smile, but his features were strained, his mouth a flat line.
Nothing she’d said had eased his guilt. Tonight definitely wasn’t the time to talk about getting rid of the water wings. At this point, she was half afraid he’d say Noah couldn’t swim at all anymore. Matt would wrap his son in cotton wool if he thought it would keep him safe.
Her heart split in two for him. She ached for his pain, his self-recrimination, but she also wanted to show him how resilient little kids were. Yes, you had to watch out for them, but you had to let them run free too, or they suffocated. Kids bounced back—she knew this for a fact, having bounced plenty during her own childhood. Heck, Matt had too. He’d come from a terrible childhood—and look how he’d thrived.
She wished she could help him get over what had happened. It was beyond painful to watch Matt silently visualize every horror, imagine all the what-ifs—and beat himself up for what had almost happened.
But it hadn’t happened. That was key. How could she make him understand? Not only that all was well, but that it was okay not to hold Noah quite so tightly.
He’d eaten SpaghettiOs with Noah tonight, laughing whenever his son said something funny. But he couldn’t mask the strain around his eyes when Noah wasn’t looking.
“What would you like to read tonight, sweetie?” With Noah’s hand in hers, she hunkered down by the bookshelves, the colorful choices calling out to them. Books truly did open up worlds—all those times when she’d felt alone, without a family, she’d taken temporary refuge in the books she devoured.
Noah grabbed a book and held it up for his father. “This one.” James and the Giant Peach.
“I can’t wait to hear your daddy read it to you.”
When Matt’s eyes met hers, Ari saw utter bleakness. There would be other scrapes, bumps, and bruises, because Noah was full of energy and would keep on running, because that’s what little boys did. How would Matt handle it?
She didn’t have any answers tonight, only knew that he needed to relax enough to read to his happy son. She almost grabbed his hand and shoved the book into it, but finally Matt curled his fingers around the spine.
Ari took her usual spot. And despite his mood, Matt got into voice, reading with exaggeration, big highs and low lows, Noah hanging on every word.
Her heart overflowed. She hugged her knees, letting the sight of father and son become part of her.
She hoped to someday sit watching her beautiful children with their father. Maybe it was having a mom who wanted her next fix more than she needed new shoes for her daughter—but Ari had always vowed to be a great mother, giving them everything she’d never had herself. She knew it was exactly how Matt felt about his son.
When Noah finally fell asleep, Matt laid the book on the table, then slid out from the bed covers so he wouldn’t wake him. Pulling the covers over Noah’s shoulder, Matt leaned down to kiss him, lingering as if he needed to breathe in his son’s little-boy smell.
After Ari kissed Noah, Matt followed her out, pausing at the door to take one last long look at his sleeping child. Finally, he flipped out the light, leaving the door half open as usual. But instead of their nightly ritual of discussing the day, Matt mumbled a good night and turned away.
Maybe she should let him brood. Maybe anyone else would leave him alone in his sorrow. But Ari just couldn’t.
“He’s safe, you know,” she said quietly. “Perfectly safe and sound with only a scratch that’s already healing.”
He stopped, his back stiff, his hand on the wall as if to brace himself. “It could have been so much worse.”
She took two steps closer. “Do you blame me?”
He turned sharply, his dark, bleak eyes meeting hers. “Of course not. He saw me and he ran. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I shouldn’t have surprised you both. I should have taught him never to run by the pool. I should have done something, anything, to make sure he didn’t fall.”
One more step, close enough to breathe in his scent, to feel his heat, to touch his face. She wanted to surround him with her warmth, as if that could ease his tension. Cupping his jaw, she forced him to look at her. “Can’t you see that if I’m not to blame, then you aren’t either?”
His muscles rippled under her fingers as he clenched his teeth and gritted out, “Protecting him is my job. The most important thing I do. And I let him down.”
“No.” She couldn’t bear to watch him tear himself up any longer. “You were there for him. You caught him. And he knows you love him every single second.”
For a moment, hope flashed in Matt’s eyes. But just as quickly as it came, it was extinguished.
“Matt.” His name was the barest whisper on her lips. “Don’t do this. You’re a good man. A great father.”
“You barely know me.”
“I know enough.”
But when she looked up into his eyes, she could see that he wasn’t listening. He could hear only the harsh and critical voices inside his head. She’d had to fight those enough times herself to understand just how hard it was to do it on your own. So she did the only other thing she could think of to slice through those voices.
She closed her eyes, went up on her tippy toes.
And put her mouth on his.
* * *
Matt knew he should fight it, but everything in him needed Ari’s touch, her lips on his.
She reminded him of all the things he wanted…and all the things he wasn’t in control of. He couldn’t control what she did to him—how badly he wanted to taste her, touch her, lose himself in her, and forget everything else. He wasn’t able to stop Noah from reacting to everything with enthusiasm and excitement, and the truth was that he didn’t want to. Of course he wanted his kid to run to him and throw himself into his arms—Matt just wanted Noah to stay completely safe while he did all those things.
He’s safe, you know.
Ari was right. Noah was safe and sleeping. In the morning, he would be the same happy kid he’d been today before the fall by the pool.
And—amazingly—Ari was kissing him.
His self-control as an adult had always been strong as steel. First, to protect himself from his parents’ “lessons” on being tough, from his father’s angry ridicule and his mother’s total indifference, no matter how difficult or painful the situation. And then again, after Irene had flitted away and he’d learned to keep his walls up for everyone but the Mavericks. The women in his life had sent him a huge message, and he’d never allowed another woman close. He’d bedded them
, but he’d never let them stay.
But with Ari in his arms, how could he help but give in to the dreams he’d had from the first moment he’d set eyes on her?
She tasted so damn sweet, smelled as fresh as wild flowers, felt as fragile as a new bloom. Then she moaned, a soft sound that twisted him up inside. When she opened her mouth, deepening their kiss, he was a goner. He turned with her, pushing her up against the wall, and kissed her with every ounce of need that had been building in him.
At long last, he could forget the accident, his guilt, his fear. In this moment, there was only Ari’s mouth under his, her body soft and yielding against him.
On her toes, she wound her arms around his neck, her curtain of hair falling over him. He went deep, playing with her tongue, drawing on her sweetness until he couldn’t breathe.
Until he couldn’t think of anything but her.
Sliding his hands down her torso, he splayed his fingers to cup the undersides of her breasts. Her body strained against him, almost begging. He slipped his thumbs over the peaks, stroking until they were tight and hard. There was no question that she wanted this as badly as he did, the moan in her throat ripe with desire and need.
If he wanted to stop, it had to be now. And yet the hard lessons he’d learned about women were suddenly like distant voices in a dense forest, just far enough away from him to ignore.
He dropped his hands to her hips and hauled her up, spreading her legs around his waist, letting her feel what she did to him, her hot center riding him through the thin leggings she wore.
He rocked into her, wanting her innate beauty. Her hopefulness. Her kindness. Wanting more than the physical. It was how thoughtfully she spoke, how caring she was, how selfless and yet how strong. So unlike the examples of his past.
Most of all, he wanted to believe that he was a good man, and in this moment, with her body so close, her lips so sweet, he almost could. Because he already knew that Ari would accept only the most worthy.
Somehow he managed to pull back enough to murmur, “I shouldn’t do this.”
“You should.”
