Melting Into You (Due South Book 2) (4 page)

“Jade’s okay now, by the way.”

“Good.” A world of
I don’t want to discuss it
tightened his tone.

Too bad. “Disney Channel and popcorn won’t cut it every time she gets upset—you’re going to have to deal with her instead of running away.”

“I dealt with her.” He folded his arms and glowered.

Hah
. As if the tough-guy ‘tude would scare her off. “Until she started to cry.”

“Do I look like the type to pick up a kid for a hug? Would you want me looming over you, grabbing you, if you didn’t know me?”

Good point. He was big, intense, and probably scary to a nervous little girl. Four beige walls closed in around her. She was alone with a very attractive man who was not her brother, not her friend, and not Callum.

She scrubbed a palm over her breastbone. Ben and her late husband couldn’t be more different. Ben was tall and solid, where Callum had been of average height with a runner’s build. Ben was taciturn and brusque, where Callum oozed good-natured charm and could out-talk even her. She’d loved him and he’d been her whole world. Once.

Kezia’s heart rate tripped up a notch recalling the heat of Ben’s skin, and the hardness of his chest as she’d hugged him. Her cheeks ignited as she considered his question. A small part of her wouldn’t mind if he grabbed her.

Such
an inappropriate time to think about that.

“You’re her dad. She needed your reassurance.”

Ben’s gaze zipped to the closed door and the faint buzz of the television. He lowered his voice. “I was just the sperm donor. Doesn’t make me her dad.”

Kezia flinched. God, he really did have a heart of ice. “That’s cold.”

“Yeah? Sorry to disillusion you.” He manhandled another two oxygen tanks and placed them by the door. Then he pinned her with a cool stare. “I’m not one of those big teddy bear types of guys. I’m not cute and cuddly underneath the surface. I don’t cry at sad movies, and I don’t get all gooey over babies—I don’t get gooey over children, period. I have enough responsibility running my business and making sure my family is looked after. I don’t need a kid relying on me for cuddles and kissing boo-boos.”

Kezia’s nails dug shallow crescents into her palm, and she swallowed a gasp. She had thought him a bit teddy bearish—a man with a soft center under his cra
bby outer shell.

An image flicked into her mind. Six weeks ago, Ben had found her struggling with a local man at a charity ball and auction. For months prior to the ball,
Gav Reynolds had sexually harassed her. On this occasion, he’d trapped her in the community hall’s parking lot and shoved his hand up her dress. Ben intervened and took care of the situation—which at the time elicited two distinct emotions: gratitude and sensual admiration. Her assumption of Piper and Shaye’s older brother being attractive-in-a-rough-way but big and harmless, took a hit. She’d looked at him differently after that night.

Now she looked at him differently again.

Kezia stiffened her backbone, which had the same tensile strength as the fresh pasta she used in her signature lasagna. “Zoe and I will stay a while longer to make sure Jade’s okay. Then we’ll go.”

“Kezia…”

His voice had softened, but she refused to meet his gaze.

She opened the door, tossing over her shoulder, “Shaye has time off this afternoon before dinner service and Piper’s around today too. I’m sure they won’t mind
sharing the responsibility
of their niece.”

An exasperated four-letter-word followed her down the hallway as Kezia stalked back to the family room. Language choice. Another difference between Ben and her late husband. But evidently the two men did share one characteristic.

Both sucked at being daddies to their little girls.

Chapter
3

“Fuck a duck, Ben,” Piper hissed as she cornered him in his kitchen. “Next time a little more warning b
efore you spring your love-child on us, hmm?”

Ben narrowed his eyes at Ryan “West” Westlake, his best mate and his sister’s new fiancé, since West had an arm around her waist and appea
red surgically tethered to her.

“You let her kiss you with that potty mouth?”

West shrugged and grinned sappily. “I let her do all sorts of things to me with her potty mouth.”

They cooed at each other.

Ben gagged over the trash can as he dumped the teabag from the mug.

Three hundred and thirty hours before Marci r
eturned to Oban. Three hundred. And. Thirty hours. He pinched the bridge of his nose against the first symptoms of a stroke-inducing headache.

Piper nodded toward their mother and Shaye, tucked like bookends on either side of Jade on his sofa.

“You’ve got your work cut out for you. She’s a sweetheart, but man…” Piper leaned against the counter, crossing her purple combat boots and clucking her tongue. “You want me to hunt this Marci chick down and go all bad-cop on her?” she whispered.

“Hell, no.” A shudder winged its way down his spine. Imagine if Marci punished him by staying away an extra twenty-four hours? “Anyway, you’re not a cop anymore, you work for me.”

“Awww. You’ve already gotten attached and wanna keep her—you’re such a big softie.” Piper punched his arm. “And I don’t work for you. I’m your partner, Benny-boy.”

“I can’t believe you’re a daddy.” West shook his head. “You should sue the condom manufacturer. Sheesh.”

His sister elbowed West in the ribs and he in turn ruffled her short brown hair.

“That’s rude and not particularly helpful
,” she said.

“Nothing I haven’t thought myself.” Ben dropped the teaspoon into the sink. “And I’m not talking about it now.”

He delivered the mug of tea to his mother, and took a seat in an armchair. Glenna lifted an eyebrow and tilted her head toward the TV, which still blared out vapid Disney-produced sitcoms.
Yeah, yeah, Mum—the kid shouldn’t watch so much TV. Gotcha
. But what else could he do to keep her entertained? Teach her how to inspect dive equipment for wear and tear? Maybe a spot of Texas Hold ‘em?

When his family first arrived, Ben had turned off the TV. Jade sat stiffly on the sofa like a life-sized china doll, her hands laced in her lap, avoiding eye contact with the adults surrounding her and answering que
stions in monosyllables. His mum and sisters tried their best to draw her out. Even West slathered on the charm—if any guy could melt a kid’s stony silence, his friend could. But not even West could raise a smile out of the girl.

After an hour of the adults’ stilted conversation a
ttempts, Jade finally spoke without being spoken to first. “Gran?”

Ben had introduced his mother as Glenna, but she’d fluttered her hands and instructed Jade to call her Gran and his two sisters Aunty. Jade had complied, using a scrupulously polite tone like the well-mannered local kids who called him Mr. Harland because they were a little bit afraid.

“Yes, darling?” His mum perked up.

“Can I watch TV again now?”

His mother deflated. “Oh.”

And so the TV had gone back on.

“Hate to love and leave you”—Shaye stood and brushed muffin crumbs off her white chef’s jacket—“but I’ve got get down to Due South, right boss?” She looked over at West, who sat in one of Ben’s armchairs with Piper curled in his lap like a giant cat.

“Right,” said West.

West managed Oban’s pub/restaurant/hotel, a gracious, old-style building run by the Westlake family for fifty years. While West managed the day-to-day business stuff, West’s dad, Bill, held court as the restaurant’s head chef. Although with Bill’s diagnosis of kidney disease earlier in the year, Shaye struggled to fill his shoes.

What he wouldn’t give to walk away from this mess and go drain a couple of beers at his usual table in Due South.

“Jade?” said Shaye. “We’ll spend some time together over the holidays, okay? I’ll be the best aunty ever.”

Jade’s blank gaze flickered from his sister’s face back to the TV. “Okay.”

“Awesome.” Shaye gave Ben a
something’s wrong with your kid
look.

Like he hadn’t guessed. And did he know how the hell to fix her? No, he did not.

“Darlings, I’d best make a move too—I’ve guests arriving on the ferry this evening.” His mother slipped an arm around Jade’s hunched shoulders. “Next week we’ll go to the museum in Invercargill—there’s a hundred-and-ten-year-old tuatara there, you know.”

“Okay.” Jade’s enthusiasm about a visit to see a ce
ntenarian native lizard was palpable. Not.

His mum also gave him the stink-eye as she left the room.

“Count me in for some girl-time too, sweetpea,” Piper said. “But we’ll do something more exciting than a museum.”

Sweetpea
?
West mouthed at him from behind Piper. His eyes held a look of terror, as if he feared his fiancée was about to start knitting booties.

The women in Ben’s family had gone
ga-ga over Jade. Unfortunately, the feelings weren’t mutual.

Jade spared a two-second glance at Piper before Disney recaptured her attention. “Okay.”

Piper abandoned West’s lap and scooped up her leather jacket. “We’d better hit the road too.”

Ben lurched out of his armchair. “You’re all lea
ving?”

Did that come out a little needy?

“What about going over our scheduled tours for next week?” That ought to buy him another thirty minutes. “We’ll have some adjustments.” He tipped his chin toward Jade.

“You’ve got adjustments to make, that’s for sure, but your schedule can wait until tomorrow because Pipe and I have stuff to do.” West patted Piper’s butt. “U
rgent stuff.”

His sister, once a tough-as-nails police diver, giggled like a horny teenager.

“I liked you both better when you hated each other,” Ben growled. “Go on then, fu—” He clamped his mouth shut just in time. “Fucoid off.”

Piper and West gaped at him, and even Jade turned her little face from the screen.

“Fucoid?” West snickered. “What’s a fucoid?”

“Type of seaweed,” Ben muttered. The tips of his ears burned red hot.

“Nice save,” Piper said. “See-ya. Have fun tonight.”

West and his sister disappeared from the family room like rats deserting a ship. Very much like rats—scurrying off to a dark place to do things he didn’t
wanna think about, and leaving him here. Alone. With his daughter. For hours.

***

Over twenty-four hours later, Ben had developed a shitload of respect for single mothers like Kezia. Granted, she wasn’t a single mother by choice—Shaye once told him Kezia’s husband died when Zoe was four-and-a-half. But, still. How could any sane person cope with a kid 24/7 without having someone else to tag-team parent? He had to give Kezia due props.

Jade wandered into the kitchen as he finished fille
ting a fresh kawhai, coaxed from a mate who’d been fishing earlier.

“Homemade fish and chips for dinner?” he asked.

Though they’d done little but walk into town and watch TV all day, tiredness and nerves made the effort to appear up-beat a major hurdle. “You like fish and chips, right?”

Jade shook her head, her pigtails looking worse for wear since he’d attempted to tie one this morning. After five minutes of fiddling with the tiny loop of elastic, he’d conceded defeat. So Jade fixed her own hair, which explained why one pigtail sat higher than the other.

“No?”

Jade’s mouth twisted. “Mum says eating takeaways will make me fat and ugly.”

Ben gritted his teeth. What kind of garbage was Marci putting into the girl’s head?

“What do you want for dinner then?”

“Noodles.”

Ah, hell.
Instant noodles, with all the nutritional value of boiled string. Same as last night…God forbid Shaye found out what he’d been feeding the kid.

“Sure you don’t want something different?”

She shook her head again and backed out of the kitchen.

So. Noodles it was.

Later, he left the half-eaten bowl of noodles on the kitchen counter and parked Jade in front of the electronic babysitter. Ben looked for the millionth time at his watch. Just past seven o’clock.

Last night, Jade went to her room around nine and changed into her pajamas, then after another two hours of canned sitcom laughter, she fell asleep on the couch. Ben had awkwardly scooped her up and carried her to the airbed. Did his heart melt like ice-cream in the
summer sun? Nope. He’d carried out the whole forty-second transition with military precision for fear the kid might wake up and refuse to go back to sleep.

But thanks to six hours of non-stop Disney, he’d come up with another time suck to make those minutes b
efore bedtime disappear faster.

“I’ll run you a bath, then it’s time for pajamas.”