Secrets Gone South (Crimson Romance)

by Pace, Alicia Hunter

  Again, Sandy laughed. “Four ought to do you, I think. My cookies are big. What kind?”

  Would this never end? What kind did people like? “Can you just do some different kinds? Whatever people usually get.”

  “Sure. An assortment.” She made notations on her pad. “I hope I don’t spill this order. I made up a cookie tray this morning for Charles Kincaid for an office meeting and promptly dropped it. Six dozen cookies all over the floor. Luckily, I had enough to pull another tray together.”

  “That’s too bad. I hate to see a good cookie go to waste.”

  “Butterfingers me.” She looked up. “Is two o’clock tomorrow okay, Will?”

  “Yes. That’s great.” He was relieved she didn’t ask him to pick the time.

  “Anything else?”

  “Avery wants a cookie. Tell you what, give me three. He and his cousins can have them after lunch.”

  “What kind?”

  Oh, more choices. This was exhausting. “Let me ask him. Sometimes he even knows what I’m talking about and will give me an answer.” He looked to the place where Avery had been standing. Where was he? Well, he couldn’t have gone far. “Avery?”

  His eyes scanned the room. He had to be here. The bell over the door had not rung since they’d come in but Avery was too quiet. That usually meant trouble.

  “Avery, pal? Where are you?” He bent over and caught sight of him under a table. “There you are!” Relieved, he pulled him out and lifted him into his arms. His cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk getting ready for winter and there was part of a cookie in his hand. Will couldn’t help but laugh. “Looks like you got your own cookie! Was Daddy not fast enough for you?”

  “Oh, no!” Sandy said with alarm. “He must have got it off that dirty floor! I’m sorry, Will. I thought I got them all cleaned up.”

  He kissed Avery’s little puffed out cheek. “Don’t worry, Sandy. A few germs never hurt a boy. Besides, your floor is cleaner than most—”

  Then he smelled it. Peanut butter.

  Oh, God. Oh, no.

  “Avery!” He set him on the counter and jerked the partial cookie out of his hand and forced a finger into his mouth and started raking out wet cookie mess. “Spit that out!”

  Avery began to wail.

  “What?” Sandy demanded. “Will! He’s not choking. He couldn’t cry if he was choking! I had a Heimlich maneuver class!”

  Will slung another wad of wet cookie into the floor and stuck his finger back in the boy’s mouth. “He can’t have peanuts!”

  Avery bit him.

  “I’ll call 911!” Sandy said, reaching for the phone.

  “No,” he picked up Avery. “It’ll take too long. Just get the door. I’m taking him to Arabelle.”

  “Call me! Let me know!” Sandy called after him.

  Once on the street, Will started to run. It was three blocks. He could get there on foot faster than he could strap Avery in and drive.

  Or maybe he should have let Sandy call 911. Had he made the wrong decision? What kind of father was he? He knew the answer. A neglectful one, that’s what kind. One who stood around dithering about cake flavors and cookies instead of watching the son that he didn’t deserve, one who had been too damned lazy to take the trouble to put him in his stroller!

  Avery screamed and cried like Will had never heard him. That must mean he was in pain. He might die! Oh, God. Don’t let him die. Just let him live and I’ll do anything. I’ll leave the state and never see him again. I’ll get out of their lives. I won’t let myself love his mother anymore.

  Arabelle would never forgive him. And she shouldn’t. He ran on, ran as hard as he could with Avery screaming to the top of his lungs and people trying to stop him.

  “Will, what’s wrong?”

  “Will, can I help?”

  “Will, slow down!”

  He had no idea who was trying to stop him, help him. And he didn’t care. He just ran.

  • • •

  “Good news,” Arabelle said to Jackie Joseph. “The test for strep came back negative. But there is some infection.” She scribbled out a prescription. “I want you to take this until it’s gone, even if you feel better.” The sound of a crying child distracted her. It sounded liked Avery but it couldn’t be. She turned back to Jackie. “I’m giving you something for congestion and some cough medicine.” She handed over two more prescriptions. “If you don’t feel better in a couple of days, call—”

  The door burst open and there stood Will with a screaming Avery in his arms.

  “Mama!” Avery screamed and lunged toward her.

  She automatically took him. “Will, what’s going on here?”

  Kelly joined the ever-growing crowd. “Dr. Avery—I mean Dr. Garrett, I told Mr. Garrett he couldn’t—”

  “Arabelle!” Will looked like someone had just told him carnivorous aliens had landed and there was no hope for mankind. “He’s had peanut butter!”

  Panicked, Arabelle swung her eyes to her son. Red face, not blue. Clearly he could breathe and breathe quite well or he couldn’t be screaming. He was furious and scared—not in physical distress.

  Jackie got off the exam table. “If we’re through—”

  “Mr. Garrett!” Kelly elevated her voice to be heard over the din. “Please just come—”

  “Stop, everyone!” Arabelle said and everyone did except Avery.

  “Mama! Take me! Take me!”

  She bounced him. “Avery, I’ve got you. Calm down, baby.” Arabelle turned to her patient. “I’m sorry, Jackie. I seem to have a family emergency. Yes, we’re done. Call me if you need me. Kelly, see Jackie out, please.”

  The crowd decreased by two fifths.

  “I came as fast as I could.” Will was as red-faced as Avery and a lot more out of breath. “He got a peanut butter cookie at the Bake Shop. My fault. I wasn’t watching—”

  “Mama!” Avery screamed and kicked.

  “Will, shut up.” She laid Avery on the exam table. “Shh, baby. You’re okay.”

  “He’s not!” Will said, almost as hysterical as Avery. “You said no peanut butter! Do something!”

  “Will,” she said quietly and evenly. “Lower your voice. You’re making this worse. I said no peanut butter as a precaution. He’s fine.”

  “He is not!”

  “Quiet!”

  “Look at him!” he said in a stage whisper.

  “I am,” she said. “He’s breathing.” She put her stethoscope to Avery’s chest and back. “He’s showing no signs of respiratory distress.” Though it took some willfulness on her part, Arabelle pried open his mouth. “Look, Will. His tongue isn’t swollen.”

  Will flew over, looked in the boy’s mouth, and brought his terrified eyes to hers. “How do you know?”

  Was she going to have to slap the hysterics out of him? “I know because I’m a doctor! And his mother! I know what his tongue is supposed to look like!” Calm down. You’re getting as bad as the rest of them.

  “Then what’s wrong with him? He never yells like this.”

  “What happened?” She unbuttoned Avery’s overalls to inspect his stomach for hives. None. When she picked him up, Avery buried his face in her neck and continued to cry, though a little less hysterically.

  “He found a cookie on the floor. When I realized it was peanut butter I dug it out of his mouth as best I could but I’m pretty sure he’d already eaten a lot of it. And I picked him up and ran all the way here.”

  “Mama,” Avery said pitifully. “Jiffy wants cookie!”

  Oh, good grief. All this over a cookie. Truth be told, Will was in worse shape than Avery.

  “Maybe you should pump his stomach,” Will suggested.

  She would have laughed if Will hadn’t looked so miserable. “No, Will. That’s not how it works. He’s fine. He’s just scared. But do you need me to give you a sedative?”

  For the first time, Will began to gain some control. “I hate you,” he said with little conviction.
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  “You do not.” And it surprised her that she believed that was true. He might not love her but he didn’t hate her.

  “He’s not going to die?”

  “Eventually, but he’ll bury us first.”

  Will gave her a murderous look. “But you said he couldn’t have peanuts except in a doctor’s office.”

  “That would have been optimum but it happened. He’s fine. There are no signs that he’s even allergic.” She shifted her child to her other hip.

  “You said the reaction could be later,” Will insisted, “that he would need to stay in the office. Do we need to take him to an allergist?”

  “No,” she said calmly. “As I said, that would have been optimum. But it didn’t happen that way.”

  “What now?”

  “Take him to the sitter. Tell her to watch him for hives, swelling mouth, and breathing distress. I’ll go check on him at lunchtime.”

  Will was already shaking his head. “We’ll stay here. We’ll sit in the waiting room all day if we have to.” He closed his eyes. “If he’ll even go with me after I sacred him so bad, if you’ll even let me take him.”

  This was worse than she thought. She opened the door and called for her nurse. “Kelly, can you take Avery for a few minutes? Maybe find him a cookie in the break room?”

  “No!” Will said.

  “Cookie!” Avery said with the enthusiasm of a toddler who had been cheated and was about to find justice.

  “No peanut butter.” She handed Avery off and closed the door.

  “Will, you have got to calm down.” She put a hand on his arm. “Sit down.”

  All of the fight went out of him and he collapsed into the chair. “Are you sure he’s all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can tell you right now I’m not taking him to the sitter.”

  “All right. Take him home and watch him yourself.”

  He looked at her like she had grown another head. “All the way out there? No. Not without you.” He looked at the floor. “Besides, I can’t be trusted. I should have put him in the stroller.”

  And though she couldn’t quite figure out why she wasn’t upset with Will, her heart melted. She knelt down and took his hand. “Hey. It could have happened on my watch just as easily. And nothing happened. The chances of him having a reaction now are very slim.”

  “But not impossible?”

  “Near enough to impossible. Let’s look at it like this: He’s had peanuts. It’s out of the way. I’m not saying we should hand him a jar of peanut butter and a spoon.” Will outwardly shuddered. “But we can relax a little about reading every label.

  “Not me. I’m not relaxing. That is, if you’ll even let me be in charge of anything anymore.”

  She tipped his face up and smiled at him. “Just try to get out of your childcare duties. I’ve gotten used to not being on call 24/7.” That was true. Two weeks of living in the woods house had not brought her a feeling of home, sex, or love but she wasn’t nearly as tired these days. As Lanie had suggested the day she and Will had returned from their tree house adventure, it was nice to sit and read a book or eat a meal while someone else spooned food into Avery’s mouth.

  “Why are you being so nice to me?” Will asked.

  “Because,” she said slowly, “what I said was true. It could have happened to anyone. Do you think I take the time to put him in the stroller every time I should? Do you think he never gets out of my sight?” She swallowed and looked at the floor. “And because you’re a good daddy.”

  When she looked at him again, something had changed in Will’s face, something that she couldn’t quite read, but it was significant.

  “Do you really believe that?” he asked.

  “Yes. I know it.” She took his hands and pulled him to his feet. Then she did something she had never done. She took him in her arms and rested her cheek against his chest. His arms went around her and she relished the feeling for just a moment before speaking again. “I guess I didn’t want you to be so good with him at first. I’m ashamed of that. You always wanted me to be the best mother I could. And that’s why you’re a better parent than I am.”

  “All I want is to be a good father. And I don’t know if I can.” He idly stroked her back. “And it didn’t happen on your watch. No one’s a better parent than you.”

  Even though I gave him away? That wasn’t a question she was willing to ask. “Tell you what,” she said. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll ask Cora to reschedule my appointments that can wait and see if Dr. Vines can cover for me on the others. We’ll take him home and watch him together. And I’ll take an EpiPen just in case.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” She broke away from him. “I’ll send Kelly back in with Avery.”

  Will looked doubtful. “He probably won’t stay with me after I scared him so bad.”

  “Believe me, you underestimate the power of the daddy truck.”

  She turned to open the door.

  “Thank you, Arabelle.”

  • • •

  Arabelle would have been lying if she had said she hadn’t enjoyed the moment when Avery had happily let her load him into the backseat of her car for the drive back to the woods. But the memory of a twenty-three-month-old is short and ten minutes into the trip Avery was happily babbling about Jiffy, trucks, and Daddy.

  Will had arrived ahead of them and was building a fire when they came in.

  “In the summer, do you turn the air conditioner down to freezing and build a fire?” she asked.

  He frowned. “Why would I do that?”

  “Never mind.”

  Will let his eyes settle on Avery and she couldn’t bear the despair and guilt there.

  Enough. She removed Avery’s coat and said, “Get your trucks, Avery. Daddy’s ready to play.”

  And Avery ran squealing toward Will. “Trucks, Daddy!”

  Will captured Avery in his arms but he caught Arabelle’s eyes over the boy’s shoulder. “I thought things would never be the same again.”

  Avery squirmed out of Will’s grasp and ran to the basket of trucks in the corner.

  “I believe babies have a sixth sense that tells them what is done to them with good intentions—else they would never forgive us for shots, bad tasting medicine, and the always unfair nap.”

  And in that moment Will gave her a look that brought them closer than they had ever been. Though separated by eight feet of physical distance, his gaze brought a sweet heaviness to the air that twined them together as surely as if they had been naked and wrapped in each other’s arms. Neither of them spoke a word but she returned his look and they both knew what would happen, what would be happening right now if not for Avery.

  And the feeling lasted all day and into the night. Will played with Avery, built up the fire every time it showed any signs of waning, and when Arabelle and Avery fell asleep on the sofa after lunch, she woke to find Will looking at them.

  Later, Will got a ladder and washed the wall of windows that was the stage for the magnificent view of his woods. And all the while he cleaned, he watched her and Avery through the window as they stacked blocks and knocked them down. She was returning his smile when she caught sight of the deer over Will’s shoulder.

  She joyfully jumped to her feet, picked up Avery, and pointed. When Will gave her a questioning look though the glass, she pointed again and put her hand over her heart.

  “Look, Avery,” she said. “A deer!” Avery laughed and squealed but the look on Will’s face was one of calm wonder, as if he had never seen a deer before. Then he turned, looked at his son, and looked into her eyes. When he put his hand on the glass she knew he meant for her to do the same.

  She wouldn’t have been surprised if the glass between their palms had melted.

  Maybe there was a place for her in these woods and in this house, after all.

  The smoldering feeling continued between them as they, much to Avery’s delight, made a dinner of hotdogs (tofu
for Will, beef for Avery and Arabelle) and s’mores made over the fireplace. Through all this they never touched, never spoke of what was to come, but it hung heavy and sweet in the air.

  Finally, at the end of the day, they stood over Avery’s crib.

  “Are you sure he’s okay?” Will said.

  “I’m sure,” Arabelle said. “Even if I wasn’t a doctor, I lived through too many of Luke’s episodes as a child not to be sure.”

  “You don’t think we should take turns watching him? Or take him into our bed tonight?”

  Our bed. The words caught fire between them.

  “Is that what you really want?” she asked.

  In answer, Will seized her, pulled her into the hall, and snatched her into his arms. His mouth was on hers, plundering, searching, and alive with passion. And she was with him, her mouth answering and seeking.

  He lifted her and cradled her crotch against his erection. She moved, so ready to feel his pounding need against her. He moved his mouth from hers and let it trail hot and wet up her jaw to the place under her ear.

  “You’re so good, Arabelle,” he whispered, “so good to me today when I thought I would die.”

  “And you’re good,” she answered, “especially in the here and the now.” She rocked her pelvis against him so there would be no misunderstanding what she meant.

  He moaned. “Yes. Do that.” When she happily complied, he whispered, “I couldn’t have waited much longer. I have wanted you so bad … ”

  “I thought you didn’t want—” she began but he silenced her with his mouth on hers again and they moved together, a tangle of tongues, groins, and exploring hands. “I’m taking you to bed,” he said. “Right now.”

  And he did. He took her to the last bed she had lain in with a lover, the bed where they’d made their son. Slowly, so slowly, he began to remove her clothes, a little at a time, kissing, sucking, and swirling his tongue as he went—up her side, down her collar bone, and—finally, blessedly, on first one nipple and then the other.

  “Too many pants,” he muttered and peeled hers off in one quick motion. Then he stepped back and dropped his own, which still only left him half-naked.

  “No fair.” She sounded drunk and she supposed she was—drunk on lust, need, and more lust. “Too many shirts.”