Page 45 of Back in the Texan's Bed
Ross’s head jerked back as if her accusation had delivered a verbal punch.
“I never asked for that money in the first place, so don’t try to place the blame for you leaving on it. You saw your father today, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know how you found out about it—and not that it matters—but, yes,” he said, eyes narrowing on her.
“Gina called me because she was trying to get in touch with you, and you weren’t answering your phone. Apparently, your father was on the warpath today because you showed up at the office. She wanted to make sure you were okay.” Charlotte shook her head, a bone-deep weariness and ache invading her. “And to think I felt that this time, maybe, just maybe, things would be different.”
Ross sliced a hand through the air. “I don’t know what conclusions you’ve drawn in your head, Charlotte, but like I said, this has nothing to do with Rusty. I’m trying to do what’s right here. What’s fair.”
“I don’t know if you truly believe that or if you’re really trying to convince yourself of it.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “When I left for California, I so desperately wanted you to fight for me. To ask me to stay. To stand up to your father and tell him you and I were together and nothing he could do would change your mind. But you didn’t. And I resented you for a long time because of it. But this time, you did exactly that. Maybe not for me, but for Ben. Still, you defied Rusty, and it made me hopeful. It made me foolish,” she added with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Because all it took was one visit with Rusty and you fell right back in line. Same result, just took a bit longer.”
“That’s bullshit,” he snapped, eyes bright with anger. “I’m not abandoning you or Ben. I still want joint custody. Or are you trying to tell me that because I don’t want to live in this house, I can’t continue to see my son on a regular basis? Because I won’t allow you to cut me out of his life.”
“Wow,” she whispered. “For a moment, I could’ve sworn Rusty Edmond stood before me instead of Ross.” He flinched, paling at her direct hit, but she didn’t back down. “Contrary to whatever nonsense your father might’ve spouted about me only wanting you for your money and withholding Ben to get it, I would never do that to Ben. He adores you. But I’d also never do that to you.”
She tunneled her fingers through her hair and briefly closed her eyes. Ordering herself not to shed one damn tear in front of him. He didn’t deserve to see her pain. “You just don’t get it, Ross,” she rasped. “Three years ago, I fell in love with you. You. An Edmond. A man I should’ve run far away from. But I couldn’t, because under the bravado was a unique, vulnerable, funny, sweet,goodman who made me feel more special than I’d ever felt in my life. You weren’t your father, no matter how hard Rusty tried to make you conform to be the image of him. And I loved that about you.”
“You never said...” Ross stared at her, eyes dark with surprise, body unnaturally stiff. “Why didn’t you...”
“Because you didn’t want that from me. I knew what I was to you even if I hoped for different. Your father would never accept me, and when you surrendered to that and ended things with me because Rusty didn’t see me as worthy enough, I knew it would break me. So I left before it could happen. I ran from here, but I couldn’t outrun my heart. And then I found out I was pregnant. I accepted then, even after the phone call and letter, that you would always be a part of me. So when you appeared back in my life, in Ben’s life, I convinced myself I could be happy with our co-parenting-with-benefits arrangement. But I lied. That’s what I planned to tell you tonight. I want all of you or nothing. Seems like you’d already made that decision for both of us, though.”
Not giving him a chance to reply—because really, what could he say when he literally had his bags packed?—she crossed the foyer for the staircase. But she paused at the bottom step, hand on the newel.
She didn’t look at him as she offered him one last confession.
“Do you remember when you gave me the diamond heart necklace?” she murmured. “You’d taken me to the resort on Appaloosa Island, and one night after making love, you surprised me with it. You’d bought it at one of the shops because it reminded you of me. You said the heart reminded you of mine—beautiful and precious. That’s why I kept the necklace, Ross. Because of all the gifts you’d given me, this one meant the most. No motive behind it. You bought it simply because you’d been thinking of me. And my heart.”
She climbed the steps and didn’t look back.
Fifteen
“Ross? A word.”
Ross froze at his father’s request. Request, hell. Rusty had issued the order and expected to be obeyed. He glanced at the door to the meeting room, debating whether he wanted to give his father the “word” he wanted. But in the end, he remained in place, curiosity momentarily overriding animosity and bitterness.
“You okay?” Asher murmured, pausing beside him. His brother, sister, Billy and Rusty had met at the clubhouse for a meeting about the festival, since Ross refused to return to the family’s office building. He wasn’t a fan of going where he wasn’t wanted. “I can stay.”
“No,” Ross said, studying Rusty’s face as his father tossed Asher an irritated glance. “I’m fine. I’ll call you later.”
His brother clapped him on the shoulder, and Gina squeezed his hand as she passed by him. Billy patted him on the back, and then moments later, the door closed, leaving him alone with his father.
“What’s this about?” Ross asked, crossing his arms.
Rusty took his time answering, rounding the table and hiking a hip on the edge of it. For several long moments, he studied Ross, and he steadily met his father’s stare. If Rusty expected him to fidget like a kid called on the carpet, then he’d have a long wait.
“I heard you’re no longer shacking up with that woman and her kid,” his father finally said, the smug note in his voice raking over Ross’s skin.
“I have to commend the Royal grapevine,” Ross drawled. “It’s only been three days.”
Three interminable, hollow, gray days since he’d walked out of the Pine Valley home he’d bought for his family. Three days since he’d woken up to Ben’s laughter and demands for banana pancakes.
Three days since he’d last seen Charlotte. Heard her voice. Inhaled her scent. Touched her body.
He clenched his jaw, fisting the hands in his pockets.
Three days since she’d lobbed her bomb about being in love with him years ago and wanting all of him now.
It was also that long since he’d been able to draw a breath that didn’t have razors attached to it. God, why couldn’t he carve this Charlotte-sized ache out of his chest? Evict her voice from his head? Only working on the various projects he’d thrown himself into had kept him sane. The projects and Ben.
