The Good Father (19 page)

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Authors: Tara Taylor Quinn

Tags: #Contemporary Women, #Harlequin Superromance, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Contemporary Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Literature & Fiction, #Series

BOOK: The Good Father
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“Chloe’s working?” Jeff’s smile turned into an immediate frown.

And Brett caught himself.

“Just volunteering. In a kitchen for people down on their luck.” He quickly improvised while sticking with a semblance of the truth.

“She’s in LA, isn’t she? With those college friends of hers. Her sorority sisters. I had a feeling that’s where she’d gone...” Jeff was smiling again. Apparently approving of the sisters.

Brett couldn’t answer the question.

Jeff didn’t seem to take offense as he continued. “Anyway, no, I mean, maybe that’s part of it and I’ll certainly take it up with her, but I still think she’s struggling with some kind of emotional phase. And now I’m pretty certain that there’s something else going on, too. At least from what she hinted at today.”

“What did she hint at?”

“I just have this hunch that Chloe is trying to get you and Ella back together.”

For the first time since Ella had contacted him, Brett had doubts where Jeff was concerned.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No. It’s crazy, I know, but think about it. She adores you both. Ella especially. And, I hate to say it, but you have no idea how close my sister came to breaking down completely after you left. Maybe if she hadn’t lost the baby, too, I don’t know...” Jeff finally took a drink of his beer. A long one. “And really, it’s water under the bridge. Don’t get me wrong. Chloe clearly wanted to get my attention. What I said that last night, about her burdening me with her crap—” The other man stopped. Swallowed. “It was unforgivable. I’ll never forget the look in her eyes...”

Brett would have liked to save Jeff from himself, but this time, he couldn’t. So he did what guys did in situations like these and sipped his beer instead.

“I’m just wondering now, though, if this time with her sorority sisters—I’m pretty sure that’s where she’s staying because it’s something she’s been talking about doing for months—has given her another goal, too.”

“Another goal.” He watched his friend, seriously contemplating the idea that Jeff was hiding from his own truth. The man was facing the fact that his wife would be leaving him again in the morning and he was smiling.

Jeff nodded.

“What goal would that be?” Brett was almost afraid to ask.

“Keeping you and Ella in the same room long enough for you to figure out how much you love and need Ella.”

“That’s ludicrous...”

“No, think about it. She goes to to LA but calls Ella to let her know where she is. Ella then calls you, you come see me and suddenly she sees her family whole again...”

Brett knew that Chloe wasn’t in LA. But the sorority sister part wasn’t really necessary to the plan Jeff was laying out...

“She gets to teach me the lesson I most definitely needed to learn. Has some time to come to grips with her own emotions and, in the midst of all that, sees that she can help you and Ella, too...”

Brett shook his head, came up with nothing to say and took another sip of his beer.

“Ella’s getting older,” Jeff said now, completely serious. “And as much as she’s made to be a mother, her biological clock’s ticking away. With everything she has to go through to conceive, Chloe says Ella’s adamant about never trying to have a baby again.”

That he hadn’t known. The part about never trying again. The knowledge was like another nail on the coffin that held his marriage. Had he made the fertility treatments and eventual pregnancy so hard on her, with his coldness and his inability to celebrate the eventual pregnancy, that she couldn’t face the thought of going through it all again?

“Anyway, she’s not even dating, and Chloe’s certain that she never will because Ella’s heart isn’t hers to give away. It’s yours.”

No. That just wasn’t true.

Wasn’t? Or he didn’t want it to be?

He could control his own emotions. His own heart.

He couldn’t control hers.

Still... “Chloe has seen me and Ella. She knows there’s no chance of us getting back together,” he said.

“It’s far-fetched, I agree. But I know for certain that she staged that time with the two of you in the boat with Cody. I was heading up front to watch Cody and she pulled me back. Wanted me to give you two time alone with him.”

Chloe really thought she could get him and Ella back together?

The whole idea was preposterous.

And Jeff was completely side-stepping the fact that his wife was flinging accusations—serious allegations—around that could put him in a certainly uncomfortable and possibly life-damaging situation.

A memory of the report he’d relayed to Ella sprang to mind, the one pertaining to a fifteen-year-old sister accusing her older brother...

Sometimes people were emotionally confused. Not thinking clearly.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Jeff said. “I think Chloe left for the exact reasons she says she did. I was angry and acted out of turn. With everything else she’s obviously going through, it was too much for her. But then you and Ella came to the rescue and maybe she’s seen an added benefit to our time apart.”

Good God, could Jeff be right? Or was he really in denial as Ella thought? And so far gone that he’d concoct a seemingly positive reason for his wife’s continued absence.

Unless...could it be the way Jeff thought? That Chloe was struggling, but could also see an upside to her time with Ella?

Was she trying to help Ella while she helped herself?

Did Ella know?

She couldn’t possibly know.

She didn’t want him.

She’d made that quite clear.

He’d made certain she wouldn’t.

She’d hardly looked at or spoken to him all day.

“So, will you talk to my sister and get her off Chloe’s back so I can have a night with my wife? I swear, I’ll do all I can to get the truth out of her and hand it to you on a plate for breakfast.”

“I don’t expect you to make me breakfast,” Brett said, his mind reeling. “But yes, because I owe you and want your family home with you and happy, I’ll talk to Ella.”

After all, he was a man experienced at digging his own grave.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

E
LLA COULDN’T SLEEP
. She’d never slept in a room with a little one and, although she needed to toss and turn because she couldn’t get comfortable, she lay stiffly, afraid of waking Cody.

She couldn’t leave the room because Brett was right outside her door, sleeping on the couch in the living room. The only other room in the cabin, other than a bathroom and the bedroom currently occupied by her brother and sister-in-law.

And God, she hoped Chloe wasn’t making a mistake. Would she, after spending a night in her husband’s arms, be strong enough to leave him in the morning?

Chloe had said that, on the contrary, it would be easier to leave him if she had that bonding to hold on to. If they could share some kind of personal closeness in the midst of the turmoil.

She’d also said that she hoped sleeping with her would remind Jeff how valuable their relationship was to both of them, how much they loved each other and maybe spur him to seek help more quickly. She’d thought lovemaking would bring him to his senses.

And if nothing else, she would be gaining his full cooperation on a complete separation. No more phone calls.

Neck tight and body rigid, Ella felt the beginnings of a migraine and knew she had to get up. A sliding glass door led out to the back deck.

Moving stealthily, she pulled on a pair of thick socks, exchanged her pajamas for the jeans and sweater she’d worn that night, grabbed her sweater coat to ward off the fall chill and slowly and carefully lowered the latch to the door. The baby stirred when she slid open the door, and she froze. He settled and she slipped outside, shivering, and quickly got into her sweater, wrapping it around her and securing it tightly at her waist.

They were in the crazy time of year when days reached the high seventies but nights could drop to the forties.

The deck had been built a story above ground and was gated at the top of the steps leading up to it, hopefully precluding any wildlife from sharing the space with her.

It was dark, the moon almost completely hidden by the trees, but she knew her way around enough to find the padded lounge furniture and settle into a chair. Cool air chilled her face and fingers, the only exposed parts of her, but not enough to drive her back inside.

“Disclaimer. I’m here.”

Ella turned with a jerk toward the whispered sound. Brett was upright in a chair angled away but not two feet from her.

Her heart pounded out of fear, shock at finding herself not alone, and continued to pound even after the shock wore off. Brett had a way of eliciting that reaction from her.

“I’ll go back in,” she said, arms wrapped around herself as she started to rise.

“Don’t go on my account,” he told her. Still fully dressed, he lifted a beer to his lips. The same one he’d nursed during the game of cards they’d played before Jeff and Chloe ran off to have sex?

Or was he breaking his self-imposed limit? Not that three beers would even put a man his size over the legal limit, but Brett didn’t break his self-imposed limitations.

Not ever. She’d noticed that the couple times they’d had wine he’d stuck to his two-glass limit.

And why was he sitting alone in the dark?

None of her business. Or concern.

She should just leave him to it.

But she couldn’t do it. That had always been part of their problem. Her need to share his life with him.

“Would you be interested in taking a walk down to the boat?” he asked. “I left a small cooler of bottled water down there, and I’d like a chance to speak with you,” he continued as though they met like this every night.

She couldn’t say no to that request, either. So she got up and walked silently with him down the yard to the dock and even took his hand to steady herself as she stepped onto the pontoon boat that was swaying on the water.

The lagoon was dark, occupied only by docks from other summer residences. But because it was fed from the ocean, it was alive and even sometimes rocky as waves came into shore.

The boat had a couple of seating areas. Couches and chairs. She went to the back, where she was somewhat sheltered from the night air by a canvas half wall, and dropped into a chair.

After grabbing the small cooler at the front of the boat and bringing it back with him, Brett took the chair across from her, still with his beer in hand.

Silently he offered her one. Jeff had stocked the on-board refrigerator earlier in the day.

She shook her head.

“What’s up?” He’d been right to lead them away from the house. At least out here they wouldn’t have to worry about waking anyone. Or being overheard.

“I think after this weekend it’s pretty clear that the problem isn’t Jeff.”

Ella stared out in the direction of the ocean, watching for lights from ships to pass by their alcove. “How so?” she asked, carefully assessing. Carefully guarding.

Herself. Her heart. Her future. Chloe. She didn’t know what.

“I know the signs of abuse, El, and he doesn’t show any of them. He’s not controlling of Chloe—quite the opposite, really. He allows her to call the shots. He caters to her now as he always did.”

She’d noticed. And noticed, too, that she was alone, on a boat on the ocean, with the man she still loved.

“There’s no change that I can see in either of them,” Brett continued. “Personality-wise, or in their relationship, other than a certain emotional distance Chloe keeps from him. Timidity, maybe.”

Clearly he’d given the situation a lot of thought. He’d been sitting in the dark alone, with a houseful of people in bed behind him.

So Brett.

So heartbreaking.

“That’s a sign of abuse,” she had to point out.

“Not by itself, it’s not. It’s a sign that she’s struggling. Jeff doesn’t overdrink. He’s not short-tempered. Hasn’t shown anger once in this whole situation. At least not that I’ve witnessed, and certainly not even a hint of tension since we’ve been here.”

“We’re on vacation, Brett. Time out of time. There’s no responsibility. Nothing to stress about.” Other than the situation itself. One divorced couple and another one, estranged, sharing a cabin.

It was soap-opera fodder for sure.

But they’d all done great. As Brett had said, it had been a wonderful weekend. If she didn’t count the tension building inside her. She was tight enough that she could snap with the smallest provocation. A sensation she hadn’t experienced in ages—but one that had been her constant companion for the first year after Brett turned his back on her.

She’d thought she’d left that part of her behind. That she’d recovered from it. From him.

Brett tipped his bottle to his lips. Maybe he felt some of the tension, too.

“He’s a great dad. Patient. But firm, too. Cody was clearly happy to see him. I think back to vacations with my dad and, even when we were having fun, there was always this underlying sense of being on a tightrope that could snap at any moment.” Brett was definitely focused on Jeff and Chloe.

While Ella sat there filling up her senses with him.

He was right, though. Cody had shown no signs of being afraid of his father. Or even hesitant around him. To the contrary, he’d begged to ride on his daddy’s shoulders. “Up! Up!” he’d cried again and again since they’d been here. Whether they were walking down to the dock at the bottom of the yard or just to the bathroom for a bath, Cody had wanted Jeff to carry him.

But Ella had another memory, too. One she’d forgotten about until that afternoon. The boat rocked and she held on, riding the small swell. “I was at their house about six months ago. Jeff had asked Cody if he wanted up, and Cody ran behind his mother and hid. I just thought it was because he was going through a phase where he was afraid of heights, but I asked Chloe about it this afternoon.”

“What’d she say?”

“That Jeff had grabbed Cody by the arm the day before and shook him once, asking him couldn’t he just leave him alone for a damned minute, when Cody had asked to be picked up. Jeff had just come home from work, and Cody had run to greet him.”

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