Close To Home (Westen Series) (27 page)

Fear forced her out of the bed. She needed to move, to
do
something. She paced the length of the room. “I bet that’s how Dwayne found out where the boys and I were.”

“Had you been hiding from him all these years?”

“No. But I didn’t send him an engraved announcement, either. I just didn’t think he’d paid enough attention to me or my life to remember this was my hometown.”

“And you’re sure you waited on this guy at the café a few times? I don’t suppose you remember his name or if he used a credit card?”

She shook her head. “He tipped well, so I was always nice, but he always paid cash, so I don’t think I ever knew his name.” She hurled the pieces of the hairbrush at the trashcan. Missing it, the force of the throw put two gouges in the ancient wallpaper. “He smiled and complimented me, and all the time he was helping Dwayne find a way to ruin my life.”

“I gave Gage the guy’s plate number.”

“Why?” She stopped her pacing.

He shrugged, then took off his shirt, draping it over the chair in the corner. “We need to know who he is, and your cousin has the ability to find that information for us.”

“You asked him without consulting me first?”

“You had the boys to get settled for the night. And I figured the sooner we found out who this guy is, the sooner we could decide how to handle him.” He stretched out on her bed, wearing only his jeans and socks, calm and serene, as if the world weren’t collapsing around them.

Well, his might not be collapsing, but hers sure was.

Irritation grew in her. She paced the length of the room and back again. “Which we? The you and Gage, we? Or do I get to be part of this great plan? You know the one that involves me and my sons?”

“Of course you’re part of it, Red. This whole thing is about you and the boys.” He sat up on the edge of the bed watching her.

Anger flashed through her, hot and explosive. She stopped at the foot of the bed, her hand clenched in fists. “Really? It feels like you’re trying to hide stuff from me.”

“I’m not hiding anything from you.”

She shook with her rage. “My ex hid things from me, and I let him. I wanted things to be fine and spent years pretending they were, only to discover what I thought was a little problem turned out to be a monstrous disaster. Never again will I ignore what’s going on around me. If you think you can keep secrets like this from me, then you’re sorely mistaken.”

He surged off the bed, and approached her. “Emma, I’m not keeping any secrets from you. I care too much for you to ever do that.”

She stepped backward and held up her hand. She didn’t want him to touch her. Not just yet.

“Sweetheart, if I don’t tell you something immediately, it’s only to discover all the facts about it first. I want to protect you and the boys from any hurt.” He sat on the bed again, his lips pressed into a thin line, the muscle in his jaw twitching slightly, his calm serenity gone.

“You can’t protect us from this fight with Dwayne, Clint.” She stood in front of him, laying one hand on his shoulder. “And you can’t hide anything connected to it from me, either. It’s a huge, purple, fire-breathing monster and it’s damn well knocking on my front door.”

He took her hand in his and drew her closer to stand between his legs. “No matter how ugly this gets, no matter what your ex tries to do, I promise to be honest with you.”

She stared into his face. His eyes said trust me. Her heart and body already did. The problem was her mind and battered self-esteem were having a little trouble catching up.

Time to change subjects. “Did Gage say how long it would take to get the license traced?”

“He said he’d have it tomorrow.”

“God, all this waiting is making me insane, Clint. I don’t think I can stand much more.” Panic raced through her.

Clint grasped her face between both his hands. She felt him will her his strength. “Listen to me, Emma. You’re not going to let him win this time. You’re not alone in this. Whatever he’s trying to pull by having someone follow you, we’ll figure it out. We’ll even use it against him.”

His determined gaze and the strength of conviction in his words warmed Emma’s heart. Fear relaxed its hold on her soul.

She cupped his face in her hands, mimicking him. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“The question is what did I do to deserve you in my life? You deserve to be happy. I intend to do everything in my power to see that you are.”

Emma moved closer, pressing her lips to his. “Oh you do that, Doctor.” She increased the depth of her kiss, then pulled away to nip at his lower lip. “I think I know something that will make us both happy.”

Clint pulled her onto the pillows. “Now you’re talking, sweetheart.”

Emma laughed as she turned off the light.

* * *

Dwayne Hazard answered the phone on the second ring. “Yes?”

“The test results came back positive, Mr. Hazard.” His lawyer sounded intimidated on the phone. And he should. Dwayne had learned years ago to find a person’s weakness and manipulate it to his favor.

Dwayne liked people to fear him. The power rush felt great.

“Good. Get the visit set up for next Tuesday. I want to see the boy. And do something about the judge. I want custody by Christmas.”

“That may take some time, Mr. Hazard.” The lawyer cleared his voice on the other end of the line. “You do realize that is the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. Wouldn’t it be better to wait for the next week for the visitation at Ms. Lewis’ home?”

Dwayne uttered a curse. They’d been through this more than once. He’d wanted to bring the kid to his house, away from his ex-wife. But the bitch had maneuvered the court to let the visitation take place at her house. He intended to make her pay for that.

“I’m paying you good money to get things done quickly and my way. So far, you haven’t really lived up to your reputation or the fee you charge. I want the visitation next Tuesday.” He heard the man clear his throat once more. “Get me sole custody of this kid by New Year’s. Or else I’ll take matters into my own hands. If that happens, your fee will drop to nothing and the State Bar will find out about that little indiscretion you had with a juror a few years back. Got it?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Hazard. I’ll get on it right now.”

Dwayne didn’t bother with goodbyes. He pushed the off button then picked up the copy of his uncle’s will lying on his desk. He read it for the millionth time since the probate hearing.

The old man had forced his hand. If he couldn’t produce a child by January all of his uncle’s estate would be divided between three animal charities.

Animals. Damn the old bastard must’ve developed Alzheimer’s in the last few years to prefer giving all that money he’d earned to a bunch of animals instead of his only living relative.

Well, the old miser hadn’t won yet.

A cold smile spread across Dwayne’s face. He’d just get custody of one of Emma’s brats, show him off to the court, get the money, then ship the kid off to some boarding school. Once he had his hands on that money he’d lose the noose around his neck that Loreene and her old man had tightened since their marriage.

He lifted the letter opener and ran his thumb over the edge to the point and back again. Of course, the cost of a private school for the kid’s whole life would probably eat away a big chunk of the inheritance. Maybe the brat wouldn’t last the year. Kids had accidents all the time.

Of course Emma would try to get in the way.

Emma.

She’d always gotten in the way of his plans. From the moment he’d convinced her to marry him and support him through med school and residency, she’d been a millstone around his neck. He’d had to endure her naive thoughts about love, marriage and saving the world through medicine. During the paternity suit, she’d plagued him with phone calls and blood tests. She’d wanted him to support her and her kids. Well, he’d put an end to that. No woman was going to manipulate him. He hadn’t wanted those brats or her. He certainly wasn’t paying for them. Now, when he’d be able to profit from her stupid pregnancy, she wanted to fight him and ruin all his plans?

He picked up the phone and pressed the speed dial.

It was time to end her interference.

Permanently.

E
mma paced the front porch for the hundredth time since breakfast. Last week Dwayne’s lawyer arranged for his supervised visit with Brian today. Of course Dwayne didn’t give her a specific time.

Just like the self-centered, sanctimonious jerk to keep me waiting
. He always forced her to function at his schedule. He
was
a doctor after all, while she’d been just a woman with two jobs supporting his lazy butt.

Why in the world did she ever put up with that? Well, this was a new day and she was a new woman. She wasn’t going to let him dictate anything else to her.

She stopped her pacing and slammed her open palm against the porch baluster. She ought to pack the boys into the car and drive into the country until dark just to make her ex-husband’s trip fruitless. If it wouldn’t be defying the court order, she’d do exactly that.

And how were the boys going to take this? She really should’ve told them about Dwayne—explained to them that the father they thought they didn’t have was suddenly going to be ripping their lives apart. She couldn’t build up their hopes then have them destroyed by Dwayne. No way would he live up to their expectations of what a daddy should be. So, despite Clint’s advice, she took the coward’s way out, and simply told them they were having a visitor.

Frustration fueled her anger. She slapped the post again and again, blindly taking her rage out on the wood.

Smack.
Six years ago she’d walked out of a courtroom, stunned and determined to put Dwayne Hazard and her naїve dreams behind her.

Smack.
What right did he have to force himself back into her life and try to destroy it once more?

Smack.
Someone should shoot the snake.

She swung her hand at the wood once more.

Clint’s hand stopped her before she could inflict another blow to the defenseless post. “Whoa, Emma. Enough. That poor wood can’t take any more abuse.”

The warmth of his hand encircling her wrist penetrated the fiery anger burning in her brain. She blinked, then blinked again, slowly focusing on the tall man beside her. The man who’d been beside her since before the whole terrible nightmare began.

“Clint?”

He turned her palm over. “Damn it, Emma. He’s not worth hurting yourself over.”

She looked at her hand lying in his. It started to throb. The reddened flesh was swelling slightly and small slivers of wood beneath the surface peppered her hand. He touched one, eliciting a sharp point of pain. “Oh God,” she whispered, trying to pull her hand out of his grasp. “Damn, that hurts...”

“Emma.” The warning in his voice got her attention.

Still holding her hand, he arched a brow and nodded to the side.

Mama and both boys stood in the doorway, wide-eyed.

“How long?” she whispered to Clint.

“They came running with the first blow to the porch.”

She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the pain in her hand and her heart. “I wish this day were over.”

“I know, sweetheart. I do, too. We’ll get through it together. But first, we need to get these splinters out of your hand.”

“It’s going to hurt.”

He looked into her eyes. “You can take it. You’re one of the toughest women I know.”

“You’ve never seen me have splinters removed.”

He laughed and led her to the front door. “Look at it this way, the pain will take your mind off his visit. Ben, go find me your mom’s tweezers.”

“What’s tweezers?” Brian held the door open for them.

Clint grinned at Emma. “The thing Mom uses to pull out the hairs on her eyebrows.”

“Hey!” Emma smacked Clint lightly with the hand she’d burned the week before.

“Oh, those.” Ben darted inside and up the stairs.

“We’ll get some warm water and towels.” Mama turned Brian by his shoulders then led him into the house.

Clint continued to hold Emma’s wrist. Staring into her eyes, he gently rubbed his thumb over the tender skin above her pulse point. The action distracted her from the pain in her hand. Heat surged through her and she licked her lips.

“She’s having a good day today, don’t you think?”

Emma blinked at his words. “What?”

Clint chuckled as he slipped his hand up the inside of her lower arm then grasped her elbow. “Your mother. I said she’s having a good day today.”

“I’m glad someone is,” Emma muttered as he led her to the door.

Clint held the door for her. “Let’s see if we can’t take the sting out of at least part of this day for you.”

A few minutes later, Emma sat at her table, her arm stretched across it, palm up for Clint to work on removing the splinters. Both boys flanked him, intently watching. He picked up a warm, wet washcloth to wipe any debris from her battle with the wooden post. He paused, the cloth just inches above her flesh.

“Emma, trust me. I’ll try not to hurt you.” Something in his voice and the intense stare of his dark eyes suggested he spoke about more than just removing splinters from her hand.

She swallowed and nodded.

With a gentleness that bespoke practice, he cleaned her palm.

“Does it hurt, Mommy?” Brian asked.

Emma grimaced as the cloth passed over a particularly thick piece of wood. “Yes, honey, it sure does.”

“You was really mad at the porch, Mommy.” Ben didn’t look away from his fascination with Clint’s actions.

“I wasn’t mad at the porch, Ben.” She inhaled deeply as another sliver slid out. “I was angry at something else. I shouldn’t have been hitting something when I’m mad.”

“I kick my trash can.” Clint’s fingers rubbed the back of her wrist as he paused for a minute.

Both boys giggled.

Clint winked at her. “But your mom’s tougher. She likes to hit wood, just like those karate guys on TV.”

That sent both boys into fake karate poses, followed by peals of laughter.

Emma relaxed, her heart a little lighter. She still dreaded Dwayne’s coming today, but for the moment, she needed the laughter her family and this man shared with her. She was learning to cherish each of these tiny special moments.