by Jo McNally
Could he forgive himself?
She was sitting on the stone railing of the balcony, her feet dangling on either side of the waist-high wall. Her back was braced against the tower, but it was still a precarious position far above the stone veranda. Blake had never been fond of heights, but apparently Amanda had no such fear, scampering up ladders and sitting on balcony walls.
God, she was beautiful, even more so than he remembered. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail high on her head, showing off her long neck and pretty face. She’d put everything she had—her only job and her only home—on the line for his nephew. She had bravely gone to work picking up the pieces of the little boy’s shattered life.
She quickly wiped tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand when she noticed him there. She raised her chin defiantly, gazing out over Gallant Lake before turning to slide off her perch. Still avoiding his face, she started to push past him.
“I’ll start packing my things...”
His arm slipped around her waist to stop her forward motion. They stood like that in silence, side by side, facing opposite directions, with only his arm connecting them. He slowly pulled her closer, and she inhaled sharply when their bodies came in contact. He reached across and cupped her chin in his hand, turning her face toward his. He gazed into her wide eyes, which were glistening with unshed tears. Neither of them appeared to breathe.
“Let me go...” Stress and exhaustion were etched on her face. There were dark shadows under her brilliant eyes. She’d been shouldering far too much in his absence. His chest tightened. He was such an idiot.
“Damn it, Amanda...” The words came out on a breath, soft and ragged. He dropped his head and rested it against hers. “Sit with me so we can talk. I’m sorry, okay? I never meant to frighten you. As angry as I was, I never wanted to do that.” He pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead. “And please, no more talk about packing. I don’t want you to go.”
He released her, and for a terrifying moment he thought she was leaving. But she only walked as far as one of the wicker chairs, where she sat with a sigh. He pulled another chair close and sat facing her, their knees nearly touching. She stared out at the lake.
“Look at me, Amanda.”
Her eyelashes swept up and her blue eyes locked on his. Time had done nothing to cool the attraction between them. Those eyes still managed to leave him breathless. He cleared his throat and tried to focus, running his hand through his hair in frustration.
“I’m sorry for what happened downstairs, more than you can know. If I hurt you...or scared you... There’s no excuse for putting my hands on you that way, and I swear to God I’ll never do it again.”
She stared at him as if she was trying to gauge his sincerity. For once in his life, he wanted someone to see his pain. He wanted her to know how much anguish he was feeling over what he’d done.
She finally nodded. “We were both pretty heated, weren’t we? I... I know I overstepped my bounds with Zach. I do know that...”
“You did. But that doesn’t excuse my behavior. Please forgive me, Amanda.” Here he was, begging again. They looked at each other in silence.
“I forgive you.” His entire body relaxed. Her forgiveness shouldn’t mean so much, but it did. Apparently, it meant everything.
Her forehead wrinkled in concern.
“I shouldn’t have said what I did about your family. About you and Zach.”
“I’m pretty angry about that.” He rushed to explain when her face paled. “But only because it’s so true. My family is totally screwed up, Amanda. I know it. I just don’t like hearing it. It’s one of those things where I can bitch about them, but no one else can. My family is a train wreck. My mother is a gold-digging shrew. My father is a cold, unemotional son of a bitch. My sister was a drug addict. And my brother is a spineless coward controlled by his wife and his father.”
“I didn’t tell you the truth about Zach and school.”
“No, you didn’t.” He waited for her to explain.
“I know it wasn’t my decision to make. He was so upset, and I couldn’t get you to listen to me. I felt like I was the only person protecting Zach.” He winced at the truth in her words. She blinked back tears, but a couple escaped and rolled down her cheek. He reached out and wiped them away with his fingertips while she kept talking. “And he’s so much happier now...he loves Gallant Lake...”
“He said he likes the school and his teacher.”
Her eyes went wide and a smile danced across those crazy beautiful lips of hers. “He really does love it. He’s doing great.”
“Randalls aren’t exactly popular in this town. Some of the protesters are more aggressive than the others. I don’t think anything will happen, but they’re...unpredictable.” He thought again of those angry younger men mingling with the usual picketers. “There’s no protection for him at that school.”
“Bruce and the principal are the only ones who know who Zach is.”
“Bruce?”
“His teacher. Bruce Hoffman. I enrolled Zach under my last name. Bruce watches out for him and keeps a close eye on him when the kids are outdoors. Bruce also makes sure Zach gets on the bus without a problem.”
Blake was torn between appreciation for Amanda’s handling of the situation, and a slow-burning rage every time she said the word “Bruce” the way she did. Like they were friends. Like they were close.
“Sounds like you and Bruce have spent some time talking about this.”
She shrugged. “We had dinner at the resort and I explained the situation to him. He’s with Zach all day, and I felt he should know what to watch for, between security and everything Zach’s dealing with emotionally...”
“You had dinner...” Blake swallowed an illogical rush of anger and tried to focus on the matter at hand. “I have to say, Amanda, I was afraid you were taking Zach’s situation too lightly, but you covered all the bases. Except for telling me what you were doing.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I can’t imagine what my family will say about him going to public school, but it’s my decision to make.”
“He just wants to have a home with you.”
He dropped his head and shook it. “I don’t know how to raise a boy.”
Why the hell had Tiffany trusted him with her son? What did she see in him that he didn’t see in himself? And here he was screwing it all up.
Amanda looked at him curiously. “How did that happen? How did the single guy end up as Zach’s guardian when your brother is married and has children?”
He shrugged. That was the question of the hour, wasn’t it? “Tiffany stipulated me as Zachary’s guardian in her will. She and I were close as kids. She was only a year younger than me. Mother always said the back-to-back pregnancies ruined her body or something, and blamed Tiffany specifically, since she was unplanned. I always tried to protect her. Clearly, I failed in the end...”
“Blake...” Amanda reached out and put her small hand over his. He huffed out a soft laugh, looking out over the lake.
“You know, I can still see Tiffie as a little girl at our place on Long Island.” He could picture her as clearly as if she was right there in front of him. Her long dark hair whipping around her face, running in the sand, challenging the boys to race into the waves. He looked back to Amanda and smiled. “She was an undeniable force of energy. Very artistic—she loved creating things. Her favorite time of year was Christmas. She was always laughing, always plotting some practical joke, always getting into trouble with our father. I tried to deflect Dad’s anger from her, but that just made it worse. He’d punish her more harshly for ‘lowering’ me to her level of irresponsibility. And responsibility is the gold standard in the Randall household. That and winning. Tiffany never cared about any of that.” He paused, realizing it had been a long time since he’d talked about his sister. “She was the kid who would be leading the race
but turn back to help someone who stumbled. She actually did that once, and Dad grounded her for a month for being ‘stupid.’”
“Poor Tiffany.” Amanda squeezed his hand. All of his childhood memories, even the good ones, inevitably lead to pain.
“Mother left us for some Italian race car driver when Tiff was around seven, and we stayed with Dad. When Tiffany realized she’d never win either parent’s love or approval, she turned to a different crowd of friends, and got into drugs. I was away at school. By the time I saw it, it was too late. She was out of control. If she ever knew who Zach’s father was, she never admitted it. At least she knew enough to stop that shit while she was pregnant, but by his first birthday she was right back with her old crowd and old ways. The rest of the family eventually disowned her.” He looked down at his feet and sighed. “I tried to help her. I really did. I’d send her to rehab, and she’d be fine for a while, then she’d slide right back. Street drugs, prescription drugs, booze...anything she could use to make herself numb. I paid to keep Zach in private schools so he didn’t have to face the reality of her addiction, but of course, he knew something was wrong.”
Blake looked up at Amanda. He could see his own pain reflected in her eyes. But no one could help him bear his guilt. “I really thought the last facility was the charm. She came out after three months in great spirits, looking better than ever. I put her up in a nice apartment in New York and enrolled her in art school. I even moved Zach to a school near the city so he could stay with her on weekends, and they seemed to be doing really well together. I was in Barbados when she called. Zach was skiing in Vermont with the family of one of his school friends, so she was alone. She started crying about the mess she’d made of her life. Her voice was slurred. I could barely understand her. She sounded drunk, or high. Probably both.” He scrubbed his hand down his face. The last thing he wanted to do was relive that night, but Amanda deserved the truth. “I was so frustrated that she’d relapsed again. Life was just a never-ending roller-coaster ride with her, and I was fed up with it. I didn’t want to listen to her self-pity or her apologies.”
He’d never told anyone about that phone call. “All I could think about while she rambled on was that we’d have to get Zach into a new school and find another rehab center for her. Finally, I told her to go sleep it off. She started crying harder. I told her I didn’t want to hear it, and then I hung up on her.” He stopped, swallowing the sadness. “The cleaning staff found her body the next day, sprawled across the bed with a pile of empty pill bottles on the nightstand and an empty bottle of vodka on the floor. The girl who loved Christmas died at Christmastime. They ruled it accidental, but I think she was saying ‘goodbye,’ and I was too selfish and stupid to realize it.”
Amanda made a strangled sound of pity. “You couldn’t have known that, Blake. Poor Zach...that’s why you want him to have a good Christmas this year.”
He gave her a halfhearted grin. “I have to try. She loved him more than anything in the world. Tiffany was like a child herself so he adored her.” Blake closed his eyes, and he could hear her laughter. “All she ever wanted was for the people around her to be happy. She wanted to be loved.”
He stopped, realizing that’s exactly what Amanda has said about Zach. He wanted to be loved. Was that why Tiffany had named Blake as guardian? Because she thought he’d understand?
“The next thing I know, the lawyers are telling me I’m responsible for a little boy. I tried to get my brother to take Zach, but my sister-in-law, Michaela, didn’t want him living with her precious little girls, as if Tiffany’s problems were contagious. They agreed to keep him this summer because I was traveling, but no longer than that. My father won’t even acknowledge his existence. So here I am, arguing with you over a kid I barely know. And it’s my fault that I don’t know him. I haven’t even tried. Goddamn it, I failed them both.”
He blew out a long, tortured breath. Unshed tears stung his eyes. Now Amanda knew what a complete loser he was. A man who couldn’t love his own sister enough to save her. She was silent, then finally just shook her head.
“You didn’t fail Tiffany. Your sister was an addict. You can’t make an addict quit. You can’t wish them sober. You gave Tiffany the tools, but she didn’t use them. You were raised to think kindness was a sign of failure, and in spite of that you were still kind to Tiffany. You tried to protect her and Zachary. And you took care of Zach when she couldn’t. That’s not failure. That’s love.”
That’s love.
His heart pounded hard against his chest. He didn’t believe in love anymore. Did he? He could hear Tiffany’s laughter in the air again, and he closed his eyes. It was crazy, but he could smell the ocean, hear her giggles as she ran ahead of him. He always let her win those races, just to see her joy. Amanda squeezed his hands again, and he looked up at the woman who was doing far more than rebuilding his house. She was redesigning his entire life.
“I loved my sister.” The words felt heavy and warm on his lips.
“Yes, and you’ll love Zach, too. You know how I know?”
He looked into her bright blue eyes and shook his head, unable to speak.
“Blake, the person you just described to me is Zachary. He has his mother’s sense of fun and adventure. And he really cares about people. He’s been so kind to me...” Her voice drifted off. Blake remembered Zach’s words. She cries so much... She has nightmares. Zach had been taking care of Amanda. Just like Tiffany would have.
He stood, pulling Amanda to her feet in front of him. He put his hands gently on either side of her face. She stared up at him, looking uncertain.
“It’s still there, isn’t it?” he whispered. How was that possible? “This thing between us, even after all this. It’s still there.”
She nodded, suddenly solemn. He slowly dropped his head and brushed his lips against hers. He didn’t go further until he felt her hands sliding into his hair. With that unspoken invitation, he pressed into her and tasted everything he’d been missing for these desperately long days. Sweet Jesus, it was even better than he remembered. She was warm and intoxicating, sweet and dangerous. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her up off her feet without moving his mouth from hers, wanting to consume her. All the emotion of the past few hours ignited in this kiss. When he finally set her down, it was with a groan of frustration. Kisses were no longer going to be enough with this woman.
Chapter Eleven
Amanda couldn’t think. Blood pounded through her veins and a hot flush spread across her skin. Her entire body trembled like a tuning fork.
Blake stared down at her, looking just as ravaged as she felt. His hair was mussed from where she’d had her fingers in it. His dark eyes were nearly black now. She knew her eyes reflected the same desire, so she closed them, terrified of what he might see. This wasn’t her. Her chest tightened. Blake was turning her into a different person, and she was so far out of her carefully constructed comfort zone that she couldn’t think straight. She shuddered.
“Amanda...” His voice was soft and deep, and her heart raced at the sound of it. “It’s okay. Take a deep breath and relax. We’ll figure this out together.”
“I can’t...” She backed out of his arms and away from the heady scent of him so she could think. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t even know what ‘this’ is. It’s too much...” The stress of the past few weeks crashed over her like an icy wave, and she felt new tears spilling from her eyes.
Blake brushed the teardrops from her cheeks. She wanted to shove him away, and she wanted to bury her fingers in his hair again and kiss him long and deep. The corner of his mouth twitched up into a crooked grin as if he could read her mind. Then he grew serious.
“You’re exhausted.” He shook his head. “And it’s my fault. I should have come home as soon as I knew Zach was here. But I was afraid of being here with you.” He grinned at her surprise. “That’s right,
sweetheart, you’re not the only one who’s confused by all of this energy between us. I’m the guy who doesn’t believe in romance, and you’re the girl who’s terrified to try it. I don’t know if that makes us the perfect couple or a recipe for disaster.” His hands rested lightly on her shoulders. “We’ll slow things down a bit, okay? I’m willing to try if that’s what you need. Can you help me get to know my nephew better? I really need your help with that.”
Her panic faded as she stared into his coffee-colored eyes. He’d opened his heart to her, and she had a feeling that didn’t happen very often. Slowly, she returned his smile.
“Friends is a good place to start.” She broke the gaze and looked out over the water. She could hear music. She frowned. It was loud rock music.
“Speaking of your nephew, where is he?”
He shrugged. “He’s doing his homework.”
“That’s what he’s doing. I asked where he was.”
“He asked to use the living room. Why?”
Amanda started to laugh. “Oh, you’ve got a lot to learn about little boys. Of course he asked to use the living room. Because he knows that I wouldn’t have allowed it. Hear that?” She tilted her head toward the sounds rising from the room two stories below them.
“The music?”
“Your living room is now home to two flat-screen televisions, Blake. And the music system. And the game consoles. That sounds like Guitar Gods to me. Not homework.” She tapped her finger lightly on the tip of his nose and giggled when his eyes went wide. “You just got played by a ten-year-old, Uncle Blake.” She spun on her heel and headed for the stairs.
Blake helped her put away the painting supplies and ladder after they got Zachary settled in the solarium to do his homework away from the temptation of any state-of-the-art electronics. Once they made sure he had his books open, she gave Blake a tour of the work that had been accomplished while he was gone.
