Read Sweet Child of Mine Online
Authors: Jean Brashear
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Contemporary, #loss, #Arranged marriage, #Custody of children, #California, #Adult, #Mayors, #Social workers
He was so warm and kind and genuine that she could barely stand continuing the lie. She glanced over at Michael to see a plea in his gaze. She thought of how he’d extended himself for Bobby and knew she could do no less, no matter what kind of fraud that made her.
So she spoke from the heart, as far as circumstance would permit. “Your son is a wonderful man,” she said honestly. “You’ve done well by him.” Then, just as Michael had accused her of doing, she acted on impulse and wrapped her arms around John Longstreet’s shoulders, giving him a quick hug.
He returned the hug, and she could feel the brittleness of his bones beneath his perfectly fitted tux. A faint tremble in his shoulders told her just how much a strain this evening was putting on him. When they moved apart, she thought she might be able to do what no one else here could and get him to sit down, so she whispered to him, “My feet are killing me in these high-heeled sandals. Would you be willing to help me find someplace to sit down?”
He cast her a glance that said he knew exactly what she was doing, then looked at his son and his wife. “Excuse me, son. I’m going to go hold court with the star of tonight’s show.”
Michael shot her a warm glance filled with pride. “I’ll help Mother with the receiving line while you two take a break.”
She felt a light touch on her shoulder and turned to see Grace mouth a thank-you, her look one of immense gratitude, before she turned to the next guest.
And so it was that Suzanne passed a good hour sitting on a large sofa falling in love with Michael’s father as he introduced friends and made her feel completely at home and at ease. She knew from the first moment she met his parents that she could give no less than her best, not simply for the sake of her bargain with Michael, but for the sake of these very kind and generous people.
Soon Grace Longstreet came over and visited with them a bit. Her questions were more incisive than her husband’s, and Suzanne had to do some fancy foot-work to keep their cover story intact. When Michael showed up to ask her to dance, she accepted with relief, bending first to kiss his father’s cheek. “Thank you both for making me feel so welcome. I see now why Michael is such a good man.”
They were still beaming at her when Michael whirled her away to the dance floor. “Thank you,” he said. His eyes were a soft warm green now. “I haven’t seen my dad that energized in a long, long time.”
“He’s a wonderful man, Michael. They’re both so kind.”
“My mother’s very impressed, and she doesn’t impress easily.”
“You said she was desperate. She’s probably just grateful I have all my teeth.”
He laughed. “You’re right, they weren’t going to be picky, but you come as a huge relief. My mother, who isn’t exactly a libertine, even said she could see why you could provoke me to something so impulsive.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s my mother’s very polite way of saying you’re a knockout.”
Suzanne rolled her eyes.
Michael whirled her around, and Suzanne’s head felt light. “It’s true,” he said.
The admiration in his eyes was heady and sent her spirits soaring. She felt like nothing so much as Cinderella at the ball with the prince, while the king and queen watched and smiled fondly. She was somewhere outside herself, not Suzanne Jorgenson anymore but some fairy creature who could be Suzanne Longstreet, a woman who would wear beautiful dresses, who would belong in a place like this. She floated on the music, the glitter of the sparkling chandelier, the enchantment of this magical evening.
Michael pulled her close, and her breasts rubbed his chest, her thighs brushed his own. She could feel him harden against her. He leaned in and brushed her ear with his lips. “I want you, Suzanne.”
Warm breath whispered down her neck, and Suzanne shivered. “Michael, we agreed—”
“I know what we agreed. I didn’t say this was smart.” But his large warm hand slid up her back and caressed naked skin. For a moment, he held her so close she could barely breathe from the overload to her every nerve. He was so big, so larger than life in many ways, that he swamped her senses, made it hard to remember anything when he was in the room. Feeling him against her, feeling his body’s response stirred something deep inside her.
She tightened her fingers on the back of his neck, sliding them upward into his hair while she pressed her face into his shoulder and tried to remember why she shouldn’t crave his touch. She opened her eyes and realized they were in a dark alcove. She started to speak, but suddenly his mouth was on hers, hot and dark and demanding.
With a whimper, she gave in, answering his kiss with all the hunger that had been building for days. Michael took her mouth and gave no quarter, the easygoing man nowhere in sight. The man who held her now kissed her with power and barely leashed passion, his tongue sweeping inside and taking control. His kiss was alternately rough and sweet, fiery and tempting as his strong arms surrounded her, making her feel both protected and all but ravaged.
He broke away for one second, his eyes more vul
nerable than she’d ever seen them. “Kiss me,” he said roughly. “Kiss me back.”
It was what she wanted, what she’d wanted since that first night. Past her defenses he stole like a thief in the darkness. She fell headlong into temptation, pressing her body against his, heedless of anything but this man, this night. When she heard Michael groan and felt his hands on her body, she wanted to strip them both naked, wanted to surrender to his magnetism, to the full power of her own passion, her own greed. Her head spun with magic and delicious fear, climbing toward a high, exhilarating peak, teetering on the edge of some sweet, terrifying ecstasy she’d never known, but wanted desperately. She wasn’t afraid; she wanted only to go closer and closer to danger until she stood on the edge of that cliff and felt the wind whip her hair and sting her face.
They could have magic between them, if only Michael would believe in love and open his heart. “Oh, Michael, could we make this work?” She let longing and hope spill into every word.
Suddenly he stiffened and stopped, his hands falling to his side. With eyes gone dark with fathoms-deep pain, he looked at her as if he’d never seen her before. “Suzanne, I can’t—” He stepped back, his hands out as if to ward her off. “I’m not— God, I can’t do this. I love Elaine, I can’t—” He stared off into the distance behind her, and she could see him
closing the doors and locking them tight, every bit of vulnerability gone as though it never existed.
A muscle leaped in his jaw. Finally he spoke, still not looking at her. “That was inexcusable, so I won’t even ask you to try.” He glanced down, and once again the stranger with the cold malachite eyes looked at her. But even as he looked at her, they wavered once. But only once.
She wanted to argue with him, to scream that Elaine was dead and she was alive and she could love him if he’d just let her in.
But they had a bargain. And she had her pride. She’d begged one man to love her and he’d tried to buy his way out. She would not beg Michael for something he was unwilling to give.
“I’d like to leave now,” she said, keeping her gaze carefully focused on the drapes behind him. If she looked at him, she had the sinking feeling that she would cry.
“Wait here and I’ll tell my parents that you’re exhausted. There’s a way out the back.”
“No.” Though she wanted desperately to steal away and hide, she would show him she was made of sterner stuff. It wasn’t his parents’ fault that her heart had so unwisely overstepped the boundaries already set. She wouldn’t shame them. She tilted her chin and spoke. “I’m going to say a proper good-bye.”
She thought she saw respect glimmer in his gaze
as he nodded. “Fine.” He reached out to take her elbow, and it was all she could do not to shrug him off. But they were playing a game, and Suzanne Jorgenson never, ever quit before the end.
I
f only Bobby would cry, Suzanne thought. His anguish was palpable, his desire to return home to Jim so obvious and strong that it tore her heart out. But he sat in the back seat of Michael’s Explorer with one arm around Maverick, his dear little face very pale, his blue eyes huge, his body still. Too still for a young boy, as though it took everything he had.
Bless Michael. Before they picked Bobby up, the atmosphere in the car had been beyond strained. After last night, after that strange, sudden chill when seconds before she and Michael had both been red-hot, he’d taken her home without another word between them. She’d heard him pace in his room, then go back
down the stairs as she lay sleepless at 3:00 a.m. This morning they’d passed like ships in the night, stepping around each other for coffee, neither one interested in food.
But he hadn’t taken it out on her son. He’d been the soul of kindness to a very lost little boy. When they arrived, she discovered that he’d arranged for a nurse to come stay with Jim so Bobby would have no reason to worry about his dad being alone. He’d offered Bobby conversation once they got on the road, but he hadn’t pushed nor shown discomfort when Bobby spoke little. He’d made it all seem natural and comfortable.
Suzanne wished she could do the same, but she was so afraid of saying the wrong thing, of making all this harder on Bobby. And she still didn’t know how or when to let Bobby know she was his mother, though her heart cried out to tell him that he was home again, where he belonged.
She couldn’t do that, because it wasn’t home to him. Home meant Jim Roper to her son.
When they turned on the road leading up to Michael’s place, she heard Maverick begin to whine.
“Think he needs out, Bobby?” Michael asked.
“Yes, sir. He probably does.”
“Can he wait another two minutes, you think, or should we let him out now?”
Suzanne wished she could tell Michael how much
it meant that he treated Bobby with such respect instead of talking down to him as so many did.
He would be such a wonderful father, if only he’d open his heart.
“I think he’ll make it, sir, but I don’t know if you want to risk it.”
Michael looked into the rearview mirror. “You think he’ll make it, I’m betting on you.”
She saw the flush of pride on that very young face. Then suddenly Bobby’s gaze lit, and for the first time that day, he wore a smile.
“Are those your horses?”
“Sure are. See that paint over on the right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s Daisy. That’s the one I’m thinking might fit just right for you.”
“She’s big.” Faint nerves whispered in his voice.
“She is, but she’s a sweetheart. Not too easy,” Michael pointed out, saving Bobby’s pride. “She’ll take some handling. Think you’re up to it?”
Bobby was straining at his seat belt. “I don’t know, but I sure want to try.”
Michael chuckled. “That’s the spirit.” He stopped the Explorer. “We can see the house later, if you want. Let’s let Maverick out, but keep him on his leash so he doesn’t get kicked. He’s not used to horses, is he?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, we’ll train him, but I’d hate for him to have to learn the hard way.”
Boy and dog tumbled out, Maverick barking for joy and straining at the leash in his eagerness to confront the huge threats to his beloved master. Bobby dropped down on his knees and talked earnestly to the dog. Maverick dropped his bottom to the ground, tail wagging fiercely.
“Why don’t I take Maverick so Michael can show you the horses?” Suzanne suggested.
Gratitude shone from her son’s gaze. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not a bit,” she replied, eager to do anything that would keep a smile on his face. “I like dogs.” She leaned down and ruffled the black fur. “Especially this one.” Maverick rewarded her with a big slurp on the cheek.
Bobby laughed, and it was music to her ears.
She wanted to be everything Bobby ever needed, but it was Michael who had the magic elixir now to banish Bobby’s heartache, so she would wait.
Her patience was rewarded when Michael put Bobby up on Daisy’s bare back and kept the mare still while her son petted her. When Bobby leaned down impulsively and hugged the huge neck, Suzanne smiled through tears of gratitude.
But when he turned that same beaming gaze onto Michael, hero worship already evident, Suzanne’s heart seized.
She couldn’t blame Bobby. There was much to love about Michael Longstreet.
But Michael Longstreet didn’t want to be loved.
With quick steps, she headed for the pen to break up a bond that would only bring her child heartache.
Michael entered his office on Tuesday after a long holiday weekend that had been interrupted several times by concerned citizens wanting to know if the FBI or EPA had yet determined how the water at Hopechest had become contaminated. He’d spent hours both in person and on the phone, reassuring the citizens that everything possible had been done. He’d even taken Suzanne and Bobby to town twice to make it conspicuous that he would remain in Prosperino for the duration, along with those he loved.
No one had blinked at seeing Suzanne with yet another charge in her custody. She’d always taken the Hopechest kids around town with her, trying to weave them into the community. Everyone seemed inclined to believe that Bobby was such a child.
It had to be Suzanne’s call as to when she revealed that he was her child. Michael thought she was foolish to wait, but Bobby was not his concern. Couldn’t be, no matter how engaging the boy was or how much Michael wished he could shield Bobby from the pain of losing his dad.
Too often, Michael had caught himself comparing Bobby to the age his own son would be. John Michael
would be eight now, and Bobby’s presence, his vigor, his sheer joy in living rebuked Michael every day, every hour.
Sometimes, just for a second, Michael allowed himself to think that it was his son there before him, the blue eyes instead Elaine’s brown, the frame tall and bony as Michael had been in boyhood. More than once, he’d caught his hand hovering over Bobby’s head, wanting to touch the hair, wanting to hug the thin shoulders, to close his eyes and imagine….
He didn’t honestly know how he was going to handle having Bobby live with them full-time. He didn’t question his ability to be good to the boy. Bobby was a great kid anyone could enjoy—bright, kindhearted, braver than anyone had the right to expect of someone so young.
But he wasn’t Michael’s son, wasn’t the child Michael had wanted so badly to raise to manhood, and every hour spent with Suzanne’s child made him ache for what was lost. Made him want things he could not allow himself to need.
He already wanted Suzanne far too much. He could not want her child, too. He’d gone too far, too fast, too deep that night at the party. The power of the response Suzanne drew from him mocked his love for Elaine, the woman with whom his heart had died long ago. He had made a vow over a grave that should never have been. It was fitting penance for his pride.
He could desire Suzanne, but he could give her no more. When he’d seen more in her eyes, seen hope spark, and felt her melt against him, he’d tried to resist, knowing she deserved better than what he could give her.
But something about her had called to him, had slid down deep inside him, far past the place he’d declared forbidden to anyone but the wife and child he’d lost.
It had been a long time since Michael had felt fear, but fear held him fast in its grip now. Suzanne was dangerous far beyond her physical appeal, mighty as it was. Something about her beckoned and made him want more than he could have.
They’d made a bargain, and she’d made the ground rules clear. Yes, she’d responded to him with an intensity that even now made him hunger. But she didn’t want to want him, nor did he want to crave her. They were oil and water, and there was an innocent boy to consider.
A boy who touched something too deep inside him.
A boy she would take away from him one day very soon.
When the phone rang, Michael welcomed the interruption to the tangle that had become his life. When he heard what the FBI agent had to say, all thought of Suzanne and Bobby slipped into the back ground.
Suzanne drove from the Coltons’ to Michael’s office, every nerve inside her shivering with both anticipation and dread.
It was happening too fast, and she could no longer kid herself that she could manage everything without a hitch. The call from Cousin Edna had thrown her into turmoil.
Jim had been taken to the hospital after collapsing, his condition worsening rapidly. Bobby was still at school, unaware that anything had changed. Cousin Edna had been notified first and wanted to know how Suzanne proposed to handle things now. Edna’s conviction that it would devastate Bobby to have to change schools now had been communicated clearly. She wanted to keep him there in the same town and the same school, all but accusing Suzanne of selfishness in taking Bobby away.
It was Suzanne’s first encounter with Edna, and the woman had made it very clear that Suzanne was suspect, that she had to prove herself. Suzanne longed to be able to respond definitively, but she wasn’t a free agent. Any decision she made impacted Michael. Not for the first time, she rued the day they’d concocted this scheme. Left on her own, she had autonomy to do whatever was needed for her son. But left on her own, her chances for custody dimmed considerably.
And she was not on her own, no matter how distant Michael had been with her since the scorching kisses at the party she wished she’d never attended.
Parking the car, she practically ran into Michael’s office, racing past his secretary. When she pushed open the partially closed door, she saw him staring out the window, his hands in his pockets, his broad shoulders slightly bent.
But as she entered, he whirled, the deep worry on his face making way for a puzzled frown. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Jim—he’s collapsed. He’s in the hospital. Bobby doesn’t know, but it doesn’t look good and Edna—” She swallowed hard. “Edna wants to know why I think it’s right to take Bobby out of school there when everything else in his life is out of control. She wants to keep him there until Jim—” She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. She had to think. She couldn’t cry. Bowing her head, she fought back treacherous tears.
She heard his steps across the carpet. Strong arms came around her, pulling her close. Despite what she knew was smart, Suzanne let her head rest, just for a moment, against Michael’s broad chest. Let his big warm hand sweep up and down her back while she listened to the comforting beat of his heart. How she wished she could stay right here.
But she could not. She had to be strong for her son. No matter how wonderful his arms felt, Michael would not be part of their lives for long and she couldn’t afford to get used to the comfort. She straightened and pulled back from the tempting refuge.
He let her go and stepped away, shoving his hands back into his pockets. “So what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know what’s right. I want him with me so I can protect him, so I can help him deal with—” She thought of Jim, so kind and caring, lying near death. She wanted her son, but not at the cost of that good man’s life. She lifted her gaze. “Am I being selfish, Michael? Am I doing the wrong thing, wanting custody of him?”
His eyes held only sympathy as he lifted a hand to her hair. “He’s your son. Of course you want him. And Jim believes Bobby belongs with you.”
“But what about Edna? Maybe I should leave Bobby with her until—”
Michael shook his head. “There’s no way to make this clean and easy for him, Suzanne. Life isn’t like that. Bobby is stronger than you realize. He’s had to accept a lot already, and what’s most important is that he knows he’s not alone, that he knows that no matter how much he misses his dad, he has shelter and refuge he can count on. That there is love ready to fill in the emptiness whenever he’s ready to accept it.”
Suzanne looked at Michael and wished he could apply those same words to himself, but there was as much chance of that as of her sprouting wings. So she shut her mind to an avenue that would lead nowhere and turned her concentration to the pressing needs of her son. “So you think I should go get him?”
“He’s your son, Suzanne. Only you can decide.”
“But—” She stifled the words. He was right, except for one thing. “This impacts you, too. Are you ready to have him with us full-time?”
Naked pain crossed his face, and she knew he was thinking about the child he’d lost. Several times over the weekend she’d caught him staring at Bobby with the same expression, mingled with a longing that tore at her heart.
“It doesn’t matter if I am or not. The time has come, and I’ll do what’s needed.”
She knew he would. He’d made that abundantly clear by his actions over the weekend. A few times he’d disappeared outside and been gone for hours, but when he was with Bobby, she couldn’t fault his treatment of her son. He was kind if distant, and Bobby had soaked up his strong male presence like a plant after a long drought.
“I have to go to Bobby. Can you come with me?”
Michael shook his head. “Sorry, not right now.” He glanced at the phone. “That was the FBI. They’ve figured out the source of the contamination. The DMBE came from Springer, and it appears it was intentional.”
She blinked. “The Springer refinery here, outside town? Someone did it on purpose? Why would— Who would poison a bunch of kids?”
His expression was grim. “That’s not the worst part of it. There are still barrels missing, and there’s
no way to know if all the chemicals have been used or someone’s waiting to dump more. Prosperino could still be in danger. All hell’s going to break loose when word gets around.”
Her eyes flew wide open. “Oh, my God.”
“Maybe you should stay at Jim’s house with Bobby until I know more.”
“Come with me, Michael.”
“You know I can’t. I have to stay here. People will panic. They’ll want to evacuate, and I can’t blame them, but someone’s got to stay here. There could be looting of the empty houses, and Prosperino’s not exactly flush with extra cops.”