Page 27 of Back in the Texan's Bed
“Needless to say, our relationship was strained for a while. It started to heal when Ben was born. They fell in love with him at first sight.” She glanced over at her son, love swelling so hard it brushed away those whispers from the past like a broom sweeping out dirt from dark corners. “But I still never told them who his father was—and they never asked.” She huffed, shaking her head. “They’re going to have some explaining to do with their friends, though. People assumed I got married and divorced while I was in California, and they didn’t disabuse anyone of that assumption. When it becomes known that you’re Ben’s father and that we’ve never been married, they’re going to be scrambling.”
“Are you angry with them?”
She didn’t immediately answer.What are you doing?a small inner voice yelled at her. The last time she’d allowed herself to confide in this man, to trust in him, she’d set herself up for a heartbreak that had nearly broken her. Letting him in again would be a foolish mistake, and she’d promised herself long ago that she’d never be a fool for any man again. Particularlythisman.
Yet... In a short time, they would be living together again. Co-parenting. They needed to have some sort of cordial relationship—some level of trust—to ensure Ben flourished in a healthy, calm environment. And that required her opening the door to Ross, even if only a little.
Sighing, she dipped her chin. “I was. They emotionally abandoned me just because I did something they didn’t approve of. And I can’t lie, there are moments when I still have a hard time wrapping my brain around the fact that I’ve forgiven them. But for the most part, I’ve let the anger go.”
“For Ben’s sake, are you going to be able to do the same with me?”
Her breath caught in her lungs, and she stared at him. At the electrifying blue eyes that smoldered with an intensity that simultaneously stirred the embers of desire inside her and set her veins racing with an inexplicable fear.
Discovering he hadn’t known about her pregnancy and hadn’t callously tossed her aside had gone a long way toward soothing her anger and resentment toward him. But a part of her clutched at the slick shards of bitterness that were embedded in her soul. Because that part hadn’t forgiven him for not loving her, not needing her, for letting her go when all she’d wanted was to be his.
Before she could answer, Ben raced from the living room and up to her. He wrapped his arms around her legs and tipped his head back. “Mama, potty!” he announced.
Relief poured through her. Lord, she’d never been so happy to potty train her son. “Let’s go,” she said, grasping his chubby little hand in hers.
Ross’s gaze seared her as she escaped his question and presence. A temporary reprieve. But one she was grateful for.
She needed the time to shore up her defenses against the force that was Ross Edmond.
“Is he finally down?” Charlotte glanced up from her glass of wine to smirk at Ross. He’d left the living room earlier to put Ben to bed.
A half hour ago.
“Yes.” He sprawled at the end of the couch she sat curled up on, his long, muscled legs spread out before her. “Just out of curiosity—” he rolled his head toward her, eyes narrowed “—do you usually read three books to him before he goes to sleep?”
She snickered into her wine. “Not. Even. Close.”
A grin flirted with his mouth. “I had a feeling I was being suckered. That kid’s lucky he’s so adorable.”
“Here.” She leaned forward and picked up the second wineglass on the coffee table in front of her. Offering it to Ross, she chuckled. “I thought you might need this when you eventually came out.”
“I appreciate it.” He accepted the glass, sipping the Moscato.
Her belly dipped at the sight of those firm but soft lips pressed to the rim and the up-and-down glide of the Adam’s apple in his strong throat. Damn. She couldn’t even look at Ross drink without getting hot. She needed an intervention. And more wine. Grabbing the bottle off the table, she topped off her drink.
“Maybe we should talk over how we’re going to make the living arrangements work,” she suggested, desperate to concentrate on anything other than Ross, his lush mouth and his sexy throat muscles.
“Right,” he agreed, taking another sip. “When we return, we can start looking for a house. But until we find one—” he set the wineglass on an end table “—staying at the ranch makes the most sense.”
“I said no,” Charlotte said, her answer automatic and adamant. “I’m not staying there, Ross. I thought we were through discussing that.”
“I’m trying to understand why you’re so against it. Is it because you used to work there, and that makes you uncomfortable? Or is it because it’s where you and I—”
“No,” she interrupted, not wanting him to finish that sentence. Not wanting to hear him describe what they used to do. Meet up? Fuck? Make love? “Like I said before, I’ve been independent for a long time. And you know how your father operates, Ross. He will try to run our lives if we’re under his roof.”
It was as close to the truth as she could come.
How could she explain to him that she dreaded being back under Rusty’s thumb? Because if Rusty chose to pick up where he’d left off flirting with her, hitting on her, then he wouldn’t find the same vulnerable girl; she wouldn’t run scared. He would force her hand in telling Ross the real reason she’d been so eager to leave his father’s employ. That Rusty couldn’t keep his inappropriate comments to himself, and she feared that one day he wouldn’t let it go at just talk. From the few times Ross had confided in her—and from her own two eyes—she could tell father and son didn’t share a close, affectionate relationship. But Ross wanted more from his father...yearned for more. She refused to be responsible for torpedoing whatever chances they had of achieving that.
But deep inside her resided another reason. A reason that walked hand-in-hand with her insecurities. Just as she hadn’t trusted Ross three years ago to have her back with his father, to stand up to him, she couldn’t say with certainty that he would today, if he had to choose between Rusty and her and Ben. Rusty was a powerful, charismatic and domineering force. And for a son who looked up to his father, hungered for his acceptance and love... Ross might want to have her and Ben in his life, but if it came down to it, would he fight for them?
She didn’t know.
And didn’t want to find out.
