Raising the Soldier's Son: So what if they share a history? That's in the past. And it's staying there. (Hometown Hero Series Book 3)

by Clare Connelly

  “About what?” Her pale eyes refused to meet his. Instead, she focused on the cleft in his chin.

  “Wade. Everything.”

  She shook her head. “You read the letters.”

  “Yes.”

  She closed her eyes briefly, gripping a chair for support. He shouldn’t have needed proof. When she opened her eyes, disappointment was obvious in her features. “So you believe me now?”

  “Yes.” He dragged a hand through his thick hair. “Damn it, Beth. I wish I’d believed you all along.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “He’s so like you.”

  She nodded.

  “He’s so small. I just thought…”

  “I know what you thought.” Finally, she lifted her ice blue eyes to meet his gaze. “I tried to explain.”

  “I know.” He took a step forward, and instinctively she moved backwards, banging into the kitchen bench.

  “Don’t touch me,” she warned in a shrill whisper. She knew where it would end up if he did, and she couldn’t let it happen again. Despite her anger with him, and a stream of hatred, too, she felt such strong, overwhelming flames of desire licking at her. She couldn’t give in to them.

  His skin was grey beneath his tan. “I won’t, I won’t.” He spun away from her. Kirk Robinson had always known where he was going. He always knew what to do, what to say. He was utterly lost with Annabeth.

  She pulled down a couple of coffee cups. “He’ll probably get a growth spurt soon.”

  “Is it because he was premature?”

  She added tea bags and boiling water to the mugs, then passed one to him.

  The fragrance of the liquid made him smile wistfully. “I don’t think I’ve had a peppermint tea since I was last in Clearview. Here, with you.”

  The memories of their past were too painful to contemplate. Beth ignored his words.

  “His prematurity could be a factor. Or it could be genetics. Best we can tell, he’s absolutely fine developmentally. Just small.”

  “I thought he didn’t speak.”

  “You didn’t wait around to hear him,” she pointed out icily, sipping the tea and scalding her mouth in the process. She slammed the cup down on the bench top and spun away from him, focusing on Wade. He was still watching the ants in a way that made her heart sing. He was her little scientist in the making.

  “No, I didn’t. Beth, do you want me to apologize? Because I will. A thousand times. I’m so sorry.”

  Tears stung her eyes but she blinked them away. “There is no apology that can fix things for us, Kirk.” Her expression was as bleak as her words. “If it was up to me, I’d never want to see you again.”

  His chest felt as though a rock boulder had been dropped on to it.

  “Don’t you get it?” She whirled around to face him. “I loved you. So much it hurt! I thought you were dead, Kirk. I begged you to just let me know you were alive.”

  “I didn’t read the letters until just now, Beth, you know that.”

  “You shouldn’t have needed a letter to know how I would feel. Worried sick, Kirk. I was beside myself.”

  He put his tea down and came to stand in front of Annabeth. “I know.”

  “And you were off with some other woman. What an idiot I was.”

  Confusion crinkled his brow at her reference to another woman. Then, he remembered the lie he’d told her, just to end the conversation. Too many lies. Too many secrets.

  “Not an idiot, Beth.” He turned to look out at Wade. Would he have made a different choice, if he’d known? Undoubtedly. Leaving Beth had made sense when he’d believed she could pick up and start her life with someone better. Someone who would make her happy. But Wade had complicated all that.

  He pretended fascination with a climbing vine on the porch. “Has there been anyone else for you?”

  She crossed her arms defensively across her chest. “None of your damned business.”

  “It’s most certainly my business,” he contradicted. “You’re the mother of my child. The woman I meant to marry. I want to know what the last five years have been like for you.”

  “You don’t get to know, Kirk. It doesn’t work like that. You didn’t care enough to be a part of it then, you don’t get to be now.”

  “What are you saying?” He reached out and grabbed her hand. She didn’t pull away. His touch was too essential to her needy body.

  She swallowed, and swayed a little. “You’re Wade’s father. If you want to be in his life, I won’t come between you. I’m not selfish enough to want to keep you away from him just because I think you’re a lousy jackass.” He winced. “But the matter of you and me needs to be left where it belongs. In the past.”

  He rubbed his thumb across the flesh on her inner-wrist, watching as her face suffused with pink. “You know that’s not true.”

  Her eyes were pleading when they locked with his. He leaned forward, so that his mouth was only a whisker from hers. “You know that what we share is as real now as it was then.”

  “You must think I’m an idiot,” she murmured, not moving away. “To still want you after the way you treated me.”

  “I don’t think you’re an idiot.”

  “Yeah? Well, I do.” She leaned forward, so that she could touch his lips. She sighed as he kissed her, wishing with all her heart that there was some magic way to undo the hurt and pain of the years long gone.

  She kissed him, knowing it would be the last time she ever did. A goodbye kiss. She pulled away, and put enough distance between them to ensure she wouldn’t weaken.

  “There is no ‘us’ anymore, Kirk. You made your choice, and I’m holding you to it.”

  He frowned. His body had leaped at her sensual touch, ready and willing, wanting more of her, as always. “I didn’t know about Wade then.”

  Anger flashed inside of her. “So you would have stayed with me if you’d known I was pregnant?”

  He thought about all the reasons he’d used to justify his decision. The decision he’d made believing he was the only one who stood to get hurt. “Yes,” he announced confidently.

  Her laugh held no humor. “That’s even worse. I loved you too much to end up your consolation prize.”

  “God, that’s not what I meant.” He furrowed his brow. Pride kept him silent. The same argument he’d waged with himself for years reared its head now. She thought he was strong and powerful. If she knew otherwise, she would no longer look at him like that. She would see how damaged and weakened he was. “I would never have left you with the burden of raising our child. I would have helped.”

  “Believe it or not, I’ve never thought of Wade as a burden. He’s a gift. More precious to me than all the grains of sand on the beach.”

  He shook his head. He was making more of a mess of things. “I just meant I would have at least provided financial support.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I would never have taken your money, Wade.”

  “Don’t be absurd. Child support is the very least I can do.”

  Her face blanched. “No. The only thing we’ll take from you is time, if you want to give it.” She shook her head. “With Wade. Not me.”

  He stared up at the ceiling. “Why d’you have to be so damned stubborn about everything, Annabeth?”

  “I don’t want to owe you a cent, Kirk.”

  “This isn’t a loan. It’s child support. Any court in the country would award it.”

  “Yeah, well, I still don’t want it.” She held herself up straight and tall, her shoulders squared. “We don’t need money.”

  He looked around the cheap but cheery kitchen. “I beg to differ.”

  It was the last straw. Her anger was intense. So intense it was ice cold, rather than aflame. “Don’t you dare judge me, or my house. I’ve done the best I could, and it’s been enough. Wade has never done without.”

  Kirk knew that she was speaking the truth. Even in his brief interaction, he could tell that the boy had been raised exceptionall
y well. But his brain wasn’t thinking properly. He seemed to have one objective in mind, and even he was surprised by the means he was willing to go to in order to achieve it. “You will take my money.”

  “No, I won’t,” she retorted, leaning forward to see what Wade was doing. He’d moved on from the ants and was looking at leaves now, counting the spidery veins visible beneath the paper-thin surface.

  “You will take my money, or else.”

  “Or else?” She laughed, spinning around furiously to face him. “Or else what?”

  He leaned forward, and ran a finger down her cheek. “Or else I’ll sue for custody. And d’you know what, Beth? I’ll win.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  He was thinking on his feet, and he knew it was an ‘all or nothing’ maneuver.

  Beth collapsed into a kitchen chair and dropped her head into her hands. “You can’t.”

  “He’s my son. I have every right.”

  “I know.” She looked up at him, her face anguished. “I mean, please don’t.”

  “Please? You’ve gone from calling me a jackass to begging me to ‘please’ don’t?”

  She looked away, bitterness like metal in her mouth. “I still think you’re a jackass.”

  He crouched down beside her. “And you have a point. So just take my money. Spend it. Make your life better.”

  “My life is fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “I don’t need your money.” She saw he was about to counter with an argument of his own. “But if it makes you happy, we can compromise. I’ll set up an account for Wade. For college.”

  “College will not be an issue. You do not need to squirrel money away for a rainy day. I’m here and I want to help. So just take the damned money.”

  “No.” She reiterated. “A college fund is my final offer.”

  “Then I guess I’ll see you in court.”

  She watched his retreating back with a frown on her face. “What the hell? No, Kirk. Wait!” She ran across the room and grabbed his shoulder, tugging on him until he spun around to face her. “Don’t you dare walk out on me like this. We need to talk.”

  His eyes focused on her mouth. “Beth,” he groaned. “I don’t want to hurt you. Again. I am trying to help. Can’t you be reasonable?”

  “You’re blackmailing me,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

  “I’m giving you money and letting you keep our son. That’s the opposite of blackmail.”

  “You don’t get to ‘let’ me keep him. He’s mine,” she said fiercely. “Biology doesn’t give you the right to take him from me, anyways.”

  “Perhaps not. But you’ve heard my name, right? You do know who you’re dealing with?”

  Her hatred was almost matched by his own. “The all powerful Robinson family. Yes, I know.”

  “Do you honestly think any judge in the county would refuse me custody?”

  She searched his face, looking for a shred of the man she’d once loved. He had to be in there, somewhere. The Kirk Robinson she’d stayed up with all night, staring up at the stars from a field on the plantation. The Kirk Robinson she’d taken to her prom. The Kirk Robinson who had gone down on bended knee and promised to love and protect her, all his life.

  “Fine,” she whispered, sickened by what she was doing. “I’ll take your money.”

  He let out a breath of relief. “Good. I’m glad you’re finally being sensible.”

  “But I want you to promise me something.”

  “Oh?”

  “I want you to promise that you won’t seek custody. Ever.” Her eyes were without emotion as she stared at him. “I know you’d win. You could drown me with expensive lawyers and political family members. I get it. But Wade loves me. He should be with me.”

  “I agree,” he nodded, his eyes glinting in his handsome face. “And so long as you are reasonable, he’ll stay with you.”

  Annabeth had a lurching sensation, like she was keeping afloat only by the good will of someone else, and she didn’t like it at all. “I hate you,” she whispered honestly. “I didn’t think it was possible, you know, for love like ours to ever fully die. But you’ve killed it.”

  Good, he thought. He had wanted her to stop caring for him. He’d needed it. But the knowledge that she no longer loved him spread like poison in his veins.

  He went to speak to Wade, but a small part of him slowly withered and died inside of him, as the afternoon went on.

  That night, Kirk dreamed of Afghanistan. It was the first night in a long time that his subconscious had led him back there.

  It was the pain that haunted him. The pain of being hurtled clear across the airport, shrapnel and flame embedded in his fragile human body, agony searing through every nerve ending. The knowledge haunted him, too. The knowledge that he’d been too late. The bomb was sophisticated, and the mechanism well hidden. He might have been the best bomb disposal guy in the area, but he had failed, and he’d lost three comrades and eleven civilians.

  Then, there was the endless parade of doctors, all of whom had told him, their faces sagging with pity, that he would never walk again.

  That he would never make love again.

  That his body would forever remain a broken shell.

  He woke with a start and reached for his legs, rubbing his hands down them gratefully. That he had survived had been a miracle. That he had completely regained his physical abilities was beyond a miracle. But he’d done it, and he’d had the perfect incentive. Annabeth. If he could walk, he could win her back. He could make it all okay.

  But he hadn’t.

  He got out of bed and stared moodily out at the pre-dawn sky.

  Far from winning her back, he’d made everything so much worse.

  She would never forgive him. The hurts of the past were being buried by the pain he kept heaping on her, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

  He reached for the gold box, and ran his finger over her letters. Her pain was obvious. Her desperation and terror at the path that lay ahead.

  She wasn’t terrified now.

  She was brave, and courageous, and managing to keep her life and Wade’s on track through strength alone. She didn’t need him anymore. She didn’t love him. But he needed her. He loved her.

  * * *

  “What do you think, Wade?” Kirk asked, lifting the small boy from the car seat and placing him down on the ground.

  Wade looked up at the huge beach-front house, with its white weatherboard walls and wrap around balconies.

  “It’s big. And it’s got lots of stairs. And a flag.”

  Kirk smiled. “Sure does. You want to go count the stairs?”

  “Yeah.” Wade tore off, running across the sandy grass towards the house.

  Annabeth sat, her face mutinous, in the front seat. Kirk winced, knowing he had a lot of work before him. He opened her door. She remained resolutely still.

  “What do you think?”

  “Believe me, Kirk, you don’t want to know what I think right now.” She said coldly, staring away from him.

  His chuckle was like honey on her frayed nerves. “Do I need to lift you out of the car, too?”

  The certainty that he would carry through on the offer had her unbuckling her seatbelt and stepping out of the car. “What is this place?” She asked, making sure she kept her distance from him.

  He held a set of keys out to her. “It’s your new home.”

  “My new… what?” She turned to face him, completely stunned, then looked back at the beachfront masterpiece.

  “Don’t worry, Annabeth. I put it in Wade’s name, so you really can’t object.”

  She gritted her teeth. “Bet your sweet ass I can’t object,” she contradicted, tossing the keys back to him. He caught them on instinct. Annabeth watched as Wade moved up the stairs with an ease that came from his natural athleticism.

  “What is the problem now?” He asked wearily, thinking how pretty she looked when she was angry. Her face, so angelic usually, became pink, her lips po
uted, and her eyes sparked. He longed to take her in his arms and kiss away the anger she was feeling. But it would make everything so much worse.

  “I hate taking anything from you,” she said, so honestly, so artlessly, that he felt like she’d stabbed him.

  “Then don’t think of it as a gift to you. I’m doing this for Wade. My son.”

  “Our son doesn’t need a beach house like this. Jeez, Kirk. I know you were born to one of the wealthiest families in the south, and that this might even seem normal to you, but it isn’t.”

  “Wade was born to the same family.”

  She sighed with frustration. “But he’s been raised by me. Horace and I are his family, and Cass, come to think of it. Normal people with normal houses and normal worries.”

  “What’s wrong with living somewhere beautiful like this?” He asked, trying to stay calm and sound reasonable.

  “I don’t want him turning out like you, okay?” She bit down on her lip, guilt washing over her as she saw the way his expression darkened.

  “I see.”

  She sighed. “You got everything you wanted on a silver platter. Throwing money at problems is your way of dealing with anything.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Kirk, when we were kids, you wanted to give me a car, for goodness sake. At an age most people are working part time jobs to save up for some second hand bomb, you wanted to give me a luxury European car. You just can’t fix stuff with money. It doesn’t work.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. “Or sex,” she hissed, storming across the grass in pursuit of Wade. “Honey, come down, we’re going home.”

  Kirk kept up with Annabeth easily.

  “Where are we going, mama?” Wade asked, as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “Back home,” she said seriously, taking his hand and leading him back to the car.

  “Oh. I wanted to see inside.”

  Kirk had the distinct impression of digging himself deeper into a hole. “You know what, buddy? You can.”