The Fighter's Secret Child (The Burton Brothers Series Book 3) (4 page)

Beck pulled up in front of the emergency room and parked just outside. She struggled with the seatbelt again—why did it have to be her right arm she’d hurt?

Pulling open her door, Beck stared at her. He waited while she fumbled with her seatbelt and finally, she leaned back and waved her good hand. “Okay, you undo it.”

He smiled. “Anything you say. You’re the boss.”

“As if,” she muttered.

He unsnapped her seatbelt and helped her out of the truck. She tried not to notice his hands on her waist—how strong he was, and how her traitorous heart skipped a beat just because he was so close. Stepping away, she strode into the emergency room.

She had to wait for two other people to sign in before her. A woman in scrubs herded her into a waiting room, and then took down her information. Beck had to stay in the waiting room, so she could finally stop holding in the pain and let a few tears flow. Someone else in scrubs—a man this time—took her to x-ray, and then she had to wait for the doctor to give her the results.

It turned out she had only sprained her wrist—but it was a bad one. The doctor gave her a prescription for pain medication, something for the swelling, and then put her in a wrist brace. “Don’t lift anything heavier than a gallon of milk for the next few weeks.”

“Weeks? But I have a two-year-old!”

“Get his dad or someone else to lift him. You keep using this wrist and you’re going to be back in here. You can cause permanent damage if you’re not careful.” The doctor gave her prescriptions. She glanced at the clock. She’d been in here for three hours already and she had more paperwork to sign. Rachel pushed out a breath. There was no way she was not going to be able to go for weeks without picking up Chaz. Who was going to cuddle him? Swing him up into his chair? Put him in his car seat?

Her throat tightened and her eyes stung. She had to blink back tears. And she still had to face Beck again. Pushing back her shoulders, she headed to the ER waiting room.

What am I going to do? I can’t even take care of myself, let alone my son!

Despair settled on her shoulders, draped over her like a fog. She wandered through the waiting room, not even seeing Beck. Standing outside, she shivered as a cool breeze came up. She glanced around, and had to blink when she saw Beck walking up to her, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his chin down.

“How is it?” he asked. He touched her arm brace.

Rachel glanced at him. She wanted to crumble, to just throw herself into his arms and let him hold her. She needed someone, anyone—just for a short time. Just to lean on for a few minutes. Only a few.

He must have seen something in her eyes. He put an arm over her shoulder and pulled her close. She leaned into him, shivering now. “What did the doc say? Hey, at least they didn’t amputate it.”

Her throat tightened. “Not funny. And it’s not broken. Just a sprain.”

“And?” Beck drew the word out.

Rachel pulled away. “I’m not supposed to lift much more than a gallon of milk for a couple of weeks.”

Beck settled his hand on her lower back and rubbed small circles. The action seemed so normal—something he would have done before…well, just before. It felt good. Too good. She took a step away and hugged herself. “I don’t know how I’m going to deal with Chaz.”

“You’re going to leave that to the Burton clan. That’s how.” He stepped closer and tucked a finger under her chin to tip up her face.

“Don’t,” she said.

“Don’t what? Don’t help you? Don’t be nice? Come on, Rach, you can’t have it both ways. Either I’m a monster or I’m a good guy. Which is it?”

She took his hand and pulled it away from her face. But he kept hold of her fingers. She tugged her hand free. “You don’t know what it’s like to be truly alone in this world. And to have the one thing you love most in danger, and…and you’re powerless to help!”

“Honey, I know what it’s like to get pounded. I know what it’s like to lose. And I’ll tell you this—you step into any ring, and it’s just you. Your trainer’s not there with you. Your family’s not there. It’s just you. And it’s scary as hell.”

Rachel bit the inside of her cheek. She was not going to step back into the shelter of his arms and bury her head against his chest.
After all the hurt he’s caused me, how can I still want to be with him?

Waving at the parking lot, Beck asked, “You ready to go?”

She held out the prescriptions. “I have to get these filled.”

“That’s what a truck’s for. Come on. Let’s get out of here.” He touched his hand to her elbow and guided her across the parking lot. For a second, she wanted to hang onto her defenses. But she was just too tired—too…too everything.

When they reached his truck, he opened the door. She stared at the seat, ready to break down. It was going to be awkward to pull herself up and in with only her left hand. But she could do it. She’d done it before. Without a word, Beck took hold of her and lifted her up and into the truck.

She glanced at him and found herself face to face with him. He licked his lips and her stare shifted to those lips. He had a wide mouth, and a lush lower lip—and suddenly it all came back to her. How good he could kiss—how he could make her feel lost and found at the same time.

She remembered watching him in Fiji as he walked out of the ocean, slicking the water from his hair with both hands. Her mouth had gone dry at the sight of him—muscles flexed as he moved, swim shorts barely clinging to his lean hips, all that beautiful tan skin.

They made love like a honeymoon couple, falling on each other morning, afternoon and night. Once on the deck of a rented catamaran, then in the turquoise waters with the waves rocking them together, in the sand, in bed, and even in the hammock on their private deck. With him, she’d felt special. She’d fallen in love more and more every day.

And then it had all fallen apart.

Beck leaned across her to fasten her seatbelt. He bent his head slightly, exposing the nape of his neck. She’d always loved that part of him. The strong cords of neck muscle. The fine, soft hair, now shorn so very short. The ache started low in her belly—the desire to touch him.

But if she did, where would it lead?

That mouth of his was a weapon—one he could use on her. And she’d give in to him. She knew it. She was too tired of fighting. She wouldn’t even be able to put up a token struggle. She’d give in to his kiss just as she had earlier. And she couldn’t let her walls start to crumble.  Because he was still that angry man inside.

He pulled back and Rachel tried to rein in her thoughts. She was not going to think about how she wanted to lick the back of his neck. She was not going to think about his arms around her. She was not going to remember how the world went away when Beck plunged his tongue into her mouth, grasping her hips and pulling her against himself.

Beck slammed her door and came around to the other side to climb back into the driver’s seat. And Rachel tried to hold onto her resolve that the only thing she wanted from him was help for Chaz.

But that, she could see now, was such a lie.

Beck got Rachel’s prescriptions filled at a drive-up pharmacy. He took her back to the dojo and arranged with Alice for her to take Rachel and Chaz back to the main house.

Rachel had tried to duck out on him, saying, “We can stay in a hotel.”

“Like hell you can,” Beck told her, walking through the front door. “The folks are on a cruise, and Bryant and Alice just bought a house down the street, so we have a ton of room right now. And you said yourself you’re not supposed to pick up anything—meaning Chaz—for a few weeks. And if you think—” He broke off the words as he heard a small whimper.

Glancing over at the hall leading to the bedroom, he saw Alice holding Chaz. The boy stared at him, eyes wide and scared. Beck realized his voice had been going up and going loud. Damn, the kid was like some kind of noise-detector. He pulled in a breath and put on a smile. “Besides, Mason’s grilling steaks tonight.”

Bouncing Chaz on her hip, Alice came over to Rachel. Chaz reached for her, but Alice kept hold of the boy. “Sorry, hon. your mommy hurt her wrist, so I’m going to have to hold you. But I bet she forgot the ice cream, didn’t she. Which means we have to go to your grandpa and grandma’s house for that treat. What’s your favorite? Chocolate or vanilla?”

Chaz reached again for Rachel with a small, whiney, “Mama.” His lower lip trembled, but Beck could see the glint of tears in the kid’s eyes. He was willing to bet a temper tantrum was coming on and coming fast.

Reaching out, Beck grabbed Chaz around the waist and swung him up and down. Rachel caught her breath and slapped a hand to her chest. “Careful!”

Beck ignored her. He swung Chaz around again, and Chaz went from wide-eyed to giggling. Beck swung the kid up in front of him so they were eye-to-eye. “Hey, scout. Bet you like trucks, Huh? You’re not a Burton unless you love trucks. Want to see mine?”

Chaz’s eyes went wide again, but this time without the tears. The kid didn’t say anything, but he was no longer reaching for his mom. Beck swung the boy up on his shoulder. “Hold on, scout. I’ll ride you out. Coming through!” He made train choo-choo sounds, and heard Chaz giggle again. Glancing back, he saw Rachel frowning at him. Hell, she was probably thinking she’d brought Chaz here only to get well, and she did not want him getting close to Chaz.

Well, she was going to have to rethink that plan. He didn’t know what he was going to do yet, but he wasn’t giving up his son. Not without a fight.

***

Rachel picked at her dinner until Beck got tired of it and cut up her steak for her, the same way he’d cut up Chaz’s steak. She glared at him both times, and he told her, “Kid’s too thin. He could use some steaks.”

“I brought food for him,” Rachel muttered.

Beck’s face heated and he wanted to get into it with her, but he glanced at Chaz—who was eating most of his food with his fingers, and more mashed potatoes than anything else. The kid seemed happy right now and Beck didn’t want to break that spell.

He’d finished up his training at the dojo while Alice had gotten Rachel and Chaz settled here at the house. Mason had cooked, and his fiancée, Avery, had helped. It was Bryant’s night to teach a basic martial arts class for the new white belts, and Alice was there with him. She was actually a better teacher and a better trainer than Bryant but no one wanted to break that news to Bryant.

Shaking his head, Beck told Rachel, “Why don’t you just admit you’re tired. Take a pain pill and go to bed, will you?”

Rachel’s mouth flattened into a stubborn line. Avery saved the day. Curvy and cute, Avery managed to disarm almost everyone, and now she turned her charm and her big blue eyes on Rachel. “Will you let me help you bath Chaz and read him a bedtime story? Alice got him all day, and I am so jealous.”

Avery tugged on the long braid that hung over her shoulder. She stood and smiled. Rachel glanced from Avery to Beck, and Mason stood as well. “Think I’ll do dishes. Beck, stop being a rock and give a hand here.”

Muttering about pushy women, and even pushier brothers, Beck helped Mason clear the table. He at least took a bowl of ice cream—Chaz had had two earlier—into the bathroom.

“He can’t bathe and eat ice cream,” Rachel protested. But Chaz reached for the bowl with a huge grin.

Beck handed over the bowl. “Nonsense. Saves time. You can get what he doesn’t get in his mouth—which seems most of it—off his face right away. Here you go, scout.”

Standing, Avery hustled Beck out of the bathroom with a glare, and Beck headed back to the kitchen. Mason handed him a beer. “Thought you might need this.”

“I shouldn’t. I’m in training—but yeah, it’s been a day.”

Mason clinked his bottle against Beck’s. “To the next generation. Now what’s up with this kid of yours?” Beck filled him in on what Rachel had told him. Mason listened and drank his beer. “Anemia doesn’t sound so bad.”

“That’s what I thought. And then Rachel started talking bone marrow transplants.”

Mason stopped with his beer bottle in mid-air. “What? From you? Oh, hell, that’s going to kill your training schedule. What do you think? Will it take you out for a few weeks? Maybe a month? Pulling out bone marrow’s not going to be a walk in the park.”

Beck shook his head. “Hell if I know.”

Avery came in, the front of her jeans and her sweatshirt damp and her hair pulling out of its braid and curling around her face. “I’d kill for a beer right now—but I’m going to have to make do with juice. Man I wish it wasn’t true that pregnancy and drinking don’t mix. And who is out for a month?”

Mason caught Avery up on the news about Chaz while he poured her a glass of orange juice. She cuddled up next to him, leaning her hips on the kitchen counter. Unlike Alice who still had her figure, Avery was already starting to show, even thought she was only a few weeks pregnant. Beck watched Mason sneak an arm around Avery and jealousy shot through him. Why couldn’t Rachel…

He cut off the thought. Rachel didn’t want him, and he…well, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do about her now. He drank his beer.

“So—what now?” Mason asked.

Beck shrugged. “Tests, I guess. Find out if Rachel is telling the truth about this anemia thing. And—”

He didn’t see the slap coming. Mason reached out and smacked him up beside the head. “Mason!” Avery protested. “I hate it when you hit anyone!”

Mason gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t worry. Beck’s used to it by now.”

Shaking her head, she headed for the bedroom. “I’m leaving you two brothers to sort this out.”

Beck smacked his beer down on the counter. “If you hadn’t just had a concussion, I’d—”

“You’d what? Lot of talk there, big man.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

Beck surged forward. The memory of Chaz’s whimpers stopped him. Grabbing hold of himself, he tried to tamp down on the fire burning in his gut. He settled back, propping a shoulder against the fridge. “You know, I think maybe Rachel might have a point about my getting a little hot under the collar sometimes.”

Mason rolled his eyes. “Well, hallelujah. If she’s gotten that into your thick head, she’s done more than ma, or any of us, ever could. Now, just what are you going to do about a woman who knows you that well? A damn fine looking woman, I might add, who happens to be the mother of your son!”