Page 30 of One Small Secret

“Who could it be? It’s Christmas morning, for heaven’s sake. Mom has the code—”

“9653,” he murmurs.

I jerk up and glare at him.

Ruben glances down at the space I used to occupy then rubs his jaw and smiles. “You still use that?” He laughs. “I guess I can come over whenever I like.”

“How did you know that?”

“Come on, Cadence. Everyone knew you were obsessed with Twilight in high school. I just didn’t know you still were.”

“I’m not. It’s just a habit now, and one I’m going to change. It’s already brought way too much trouble into my life.” But with Axley snoring softly, the statement doesn’t ring true.

The knocking continues and Ruben shakes his head. “Well, it isn’t anyone who went to high school with you, or they would know to punch in W-O-L-F.”

I groan. My obsession with Jacob was borderline pathetic, but he and Bella just made so much more sense. Who wants a moody vampire when you can have a good-hearted wolf? But Ruben Palmer is one thousand percent Edward. He’s rich, popular, and pretty much the whole world is in love with him.. All he’s missing is color-changing eyes and some bloodlust. “I have no idea who it is, but you’d better hide.” I point to my bedroom door.

“Hide?”

“Do you want the whole world to know you spent the night here?”

“I doubt the whole world is behind that door, and frankly—” His head drops down to the arm of the couch. “I’m too tired to care.”

“Your girlfriend might care.”

His head lifts up at that. “Daphne doesn’t—”

I wave his excuses away. I’m really not prepared to hear him talk about Daphne three seconds after extracting myself from his arms. I bend over and carefully lift Axley from his chest. Axley stretches, but doesn’t wake. I practically kick Ruben’s legs off the couch and shove him toward my room with my hip. He shakes his head as if he's disappointed in me, but finally stumbles toward the door. I follow behind him with Axley in my arms. My legs ache from being scrunched up all night. Based on Ruben’s small, unsteady steps, he must be feeling even worse. He stops when we reach my room, and I walk around him to open the door with my free hand. His hair needs a comb, his sweater isn’t laying right, and his jaw has grown the length of stubble that a woman wants to catch under her fingernails. But the worst thing about Ruben is his eyes. They’re blurry, hazed, and filled with a devil-may-care gleam, like nothing in the world could disturb him.

He shakes his rumpled head, which does nothing to clear that look from his eyes, and puts his arms out. “Do you want me to take Axley?”

“No, I’ll keep him. Just get in there and stay quiet.” I shut my bedroom door in his face, then turn and prop Axley closer to my chest.

What if it’s Moira? It can’t be, right? She would have just let herself in. Still, my feet stop moving, no longer willing to take the last few steps. Lowering my head, I take in Axley’s scent. It’s different from when he first got here. His hair smells like apricots and cream, because every time I go to the store I forget to buy baby shampoo. I hold completely still and get the slightest scent of coconut from the fancy face lotion I bought while I was in Vietnam.

If Moira is off the show and behind that door, will she take him away? When would I see him again? Axley smells like me now. I should have some visitation rights for that, at least.

I shake my head and force my feet to move forward. Axley is Moira’s child. Moira’s. I have absolutely no right to him, nor does a child really fit into my life right now. I’ve already lost my job once because of him.

I’ve also gotten my job back because of him, but still…

I take a deep breath, and right after three sharp knocks that jostle Axley awake, I open the door.

It isn't Moira.

“Ben?”

Ben’s eyes flick to mine briefly, then slide down to Axley. His thick gray eyebrows raise, his mouth opens, but no words come out.

How am I going to explain Axley to Ben? He isn’t just Ruben’s grandfather, he's practically a grandfather to me. Of all the people I don’t want to lie to, he's probably at the top of the list.

“Cadence.” Ben’s voice is soft, and a little wistful. “Welcome back to Rosco. I should have come to see you earlier.”

I resist the urge to look at the clock on my microwave. Perhaps he could have come earlier in the week, but any earlier in the day and it still would have been dark outside. “I should have come to see you as well. Won’t you come in?”

I open the door wide and Ben crosses the threshold, but doesn’t go any farther. He clears his throat and shakes his head slowly. “First things first, I suppose. Merry Christmas, Cadence.”

“Merry Christmas to you as well.” I’ve only been awake for a few minutes, but I’m pretty certain no other Christmas will ever top this one in strangeness—first my waking up in Ruben’s arms, then his grandfather standing here while Ruben hides in my bedroom.

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