Crimes of the Heart (15 page)

With the heavy scent of roses hanging in the confined space, Devon clutched the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip. Jewel, quiet and reserved, sat beside him as he raced home down the long, dark highway. From the moment he first heard his son’s weak voice his middle clenched and a lead weight had descended in the pit of his belly. Now, a half-hour later, neither had budged.

He’d never known that being a father could nearly cripple him with just two little words: Sean’s hurt. An invisible hand squeezed his heart and agony shot through him. He wasn’t as unaffected as he’d assumed until now.

All of his intentions upon returning to his hometown had shifted when he’d learned of Sean’s existence. But, he realized, his ultimate plan would have never been compromised.

Jewel’s right, I expected to leave all along. And unscathed at that. But not anymore
.

After the culmination of his payback, Devon figured on a graceful exit. Texas wasn’t home, but he, along with his partner, had built Tate-Marshall Construction into a multi-million dollar business. Now, he discovered his departure from Connecticut wouldn’t be refined or easy.

In the back of his mind, Devon had allowed for Sean’s continued presence in his life. A number of visits to Texas during school vacations and in the summer had topped the list. Never had Devon considered anyone else’s feelings in the matter. It had been the simplest solution to a difficult problem; he knew Jewel and he wouldn’t be able to last this time either.

With one phone call, everything had changed. He saw Jewel’s side to a whole host of concerns. Distance topped the list. A vital part of her life would be removed for long periods of time. Devon couldn’t do that to either one of them. If anyone had to change gears here it was him.

The answers prowled through his mind. Tate continually pestered him to hire an assistant. That would be the first step. Next, he’d promote a couple of their guys to supervise the out-of-state projects. Slowly, Devon clawed at a free day here and there, adding up to a week at a time so he could return to Sean and Jewel.

With the practical resolutions firmly settled, Devon’s mind focused once again on Sean. “How bad can it be?” he wondered out loud.

“No broken bones.”

He glimpsed at Jewel. Expressionless and remote, she sat ramrod-straight. Taking a second look, this one for several seconds longer, he detected the way she clutched her hands in her lap.

“No stitches, either,” he reassured her as well as himself, easing his stranglehold on the wheel.

She let out a shaky breath, the tension in her slackening, and then turned to him. “Just some bumps and bruises when he and Kev collided on their skateboards. Nick would have told us if it was really bad.”

Frowning, Devon asked, “How well do you know this guy?”

“Nick? I’ve known him for years actually. It’s just recently he and Bree—”

“Your business partner, right? The blonde one?”

“Yeah. They’ve had feelings for each other for a long time, but not until a couple of weeks ago did they act on them.”

“So, do you think he’d tell you the whole truth about Sean?”

A rough chuckle escaped her lips. “He’s a cop, what do you think?”

“Not all cops are on the straight and narrow,” he muttered under his breath.

“Well, Nick Carletti certainly is. Plus, he’d tell me. He knows how agonizing the waiting can be. The hoping.” Her voice caught, and then came out filled with pain.

Swinging his gaze to her, he asked, “How so?”

“He lost his son over a year and a half ago,” she said quietly. “Vinnie was a cop, too. He was shot and killed in the line of duty. Nick saw the whole thing.”

Devon’s heart contracted, squeezing in imagined pain for what this father must have suffered. Hearing this, the dust blew away and he saw things so clearly.

Sean. What would I do if anything happened to him?

A raw ache throbbed to life behind his rib cage. He couldn’t fathom the stark emptiness of living somewhere with the knowledge that the charming, funny eleven-going-on-forty-year-old boy he’d come to know and care for didn’t exist any longer. He loved his son, there was no denying it.

Carefully, he reached out with an unsteady hand, and then covered her clasped ones. They felt so small, silky, and delicate beneath his.
Fragile, like her, only she won’t let anyone see it.

The giggle she released surprised him. With it the tense atmosphere dissolved. “What’s so funny?”

Tugging a hand free, she plucked a stray white rose petal trapped between his shirt cuff and wrist, and then lifted it for his inspection. “We are. We dashed out of there so fast we didn’t get all these off of us.”

Shifting slightly in his seat so he could tug at his jeans, he shot her a wicked grin. “And I didn’t even have a chance to drag on any underwear.” Scanning down over her unbound breasts under her thin shirt, to her skintight, black leggings, he said slyly, “You didn’t either, if I remember correctly.”

She leaned close, depositing the softest, sexiest kiss on his cheek. “But then again, I normally don’t anyway.” Her husky whisper in his ear caused heat to bathe his body and made his jeans even more uncomfortable than they had been an instant ago.

“Ah, you wouldn’t be trying to distract me now, would you? Cause if you are, you’re doing a damn good job of it.”

Her throaty laughter sent liquid fire surging through his veins. “How’d you guess? It takes our minds off of worrying about Sean.”

“It does that. But unfortunately, it also takes my mind off the road.”

“Sorry.” She settled back in her seat, adjusting her seat belt and withdrawing from him totally. The absence should have appeased him, but it did anything but.

Once again, he focused on the long stretch of deserted highway.

“Something’s been bothering me since we talked earlier today.”

He heard the hesitations in her voice, and then speculated on the reasons. “We talked a lot. Mind clueing me in on what part?”

Twisting, so she sat sideways in her seat, she sighed. The warmth of her breath fanned across his face and he shivered in response. He loved when she did that every time he entered her as if, saying, without a word, she accepted the exquisite feeling of being one with him.

“It was in the meadow. You said you wanted to make Sean and me happy.” She paused, clearly gathering her thoughts. “You meant by leaving us, didn’t you? Trying to keep us untouched so you wouldn’t interrupt or even cause a bump in our lives. Which, by the way, isn’t anywhere close to happening. All of this so that we’d be happy.”

A ripple of shock raced through him, shaking him to his core. She knew him so well, maybe better than he knew himself sometimes. “I didn’t want to be a bad influence on him.”

Her gasp tore at him. “You think walking away is still an option. You think
that’s
going to be a
good
influence? Don’t you get it yet? You need to make a bigger investment in your son’s future, more than just righting some wrongs. You need to do it not just for Sean’s sake, and not just for his children to come, but for your own sake as well.”

Icy dread pooled in his middle. Nothing had ever deterred him from his quest. No setback had been too great to hurdle. When some difficulty developed he’d regroup, and then press onward. Plan A had disintegrated the moment he learned of Simon Wainwright’s untimely death. Devon had stumbled, but never faulted. He implemented Plan B with renewed determination. Then, when he’d found out about Sean, he created Plan C. Now, that too, seemed to be wavering.

The thought of losing Sean had sent him on an incomprehensible odyssey of fear. With the prospect of all Jewel had said and inferred, the fact that his single-minded resolve of vengeance and any action he chose to take from now on would transform, maybe even harm his family in some way, brought him up short. She’d told him earlier today, but he’d been centered on a plausible defense.
Excuses.

For the first time Devon realized there was so much more to consider here. So much of who and what his son and grandchildren would become rested with the decisions he’d make in the very near future, decisions on whether or not to pursue the course where he knew, but couldn’t prove yet, Jewel’s father had committed a crime and framed his.

What kind of life would Sean and his children be able to lead in their hometown? None, if they had to live under a cloud of speculation and suspicion that they were made out of the same fiber as an adulterer on one side of the family tree and a criminal on the other.

Right now it only amounted to one bad seed, his father, one buried so deep some had nearly forgotten the past.
How can I uncover the answers I need while still protecting my son?

At midnight, standing in the Carletti’s living room, Devon jammed his hands in his pockets. A rush of sweet relief swept through him as he watched Jewel hug their son. The touching picture of his wife and son locked together nearly choked him with emotion.

“See I told you I was all right,” Sean said when Jewel finally released him. “The doctor even said it was okay for me to play in Wednesday’s football game, the one dad promised he’d come see me in.”

Except for a scrape on his chin, some scratches on his cheek and arms, and a couple of bruises, the boy seemed fine to Devon. Despite the good condition his son was in he still couldn’t shake the terrible prospect of losing him. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Nick, holding his very sleepy little girl, and Bree watched silently with a well of empathy, and perhaps envy on Nick’s part.

Devon swallowed past the lump in his throat as he yanked his hands out of his pockets and held open his arms for his son. “Got one of those for your old man?” The mixture of delight and love that transformed the boy’s face humbled him. That look would stay with Devon for the rest of his life.

Sean rushed to him, and, in moments, Devon hugged his son for the first time. His heart swelled and overflowed with indescribable joy. Embracing the small body, Devon inhaled the soapy scent of him and clamped his eyes shut, thanking whoever was listening for watching over his son, not just today but always.

“Geez, Dad, what did you and mom do, take a bath in roses or something?” he asked, stepping back and waving a hand in front of his nose.

Looking squarely into his wife’s eyes, he winked, and then watched as crimson crept up her neck. A purely masculine response tugged at him as he recalled their lovemaking on the soft, silky petals.

“Something along those lines,” he answered his son. Ruffling Sean’s dark hair, Devon teased, “How’s the skateboard look?” He was certain everyone present heard the thick emotion clogging his voice. He didn’t care.

A grimace wrinkled the boy’s expressive features. “Oh, man, you should see it. It busted in two and the wheels are all bent out of shape.” He demonstrated with his hands, making a snapping motion, and then twisting them together. “Kev’s is all messed up, too.”

“Speaking of him,” Jewel cut in, brushing the sweep of hair out of his eyes, “how is he doing?”

“Uncle Nick talked to his mom a couple hours ago, isn’t that right?” he asked, looking to the tall, broad-shouldered cop tenderly embracing the blonde-haired girl.

Nick jumped in, saying, “He’s a little worse for the wear than this guy.” He settled a hand on Sean’s neck for a moment. “I’m afraid Kev sprained his wrist. He’ll have to wear a splint for a week or more.”

Recalling the wide-eyed, red-haired boy, Devon felt a pang of remorse. The kid had taken to him in an instant, clearly hungry for a father figure. Maybe there was something he could do for him, as well as Sean.

“You know what’s really cool about the whole thing?” Sean smiled widely, an impish twinkle in his eyes. “It gave Kev and me the best idea for a Halloween costume for him. He’ll be a mummy, dripping with gobs of fake blood.”

The colorful image sprang to Devon’s mind. The playful side of him, one he normally suppressed, came out. “Hey, why stop there? You can go all out and have this really gross eye hanging out of one hole where the eye socket’s supposed to be.”

“Cool!” Sean and Bree said in unison.

Catching sight of the bloodthirsty look in the petite lady’s eyes, he chuckled. “You like that, huh? I’ve got loads more where that came from.”

“Oh brother,” Sydney mumbled into Nick’s chest, slapping her forehead and shaking her head.

Devon and the others laughed.

Sean twisted to Jewel, and then said, “See, Mom, I told you dad would just love the idea of a Halloween party.”

Arching an eyebrow, he locked gazes with Jewel again, asking, “Party?”

Shrugging, she said, “We have an open house every year.”

“Devon, if it’s a problem to hold it at your place, Nick and I can do it here.” Bree must have sensed his hesitancy.

Five pairs of eyes zeroed in on him, pinning him to the spot. Perspiration dotted his forehead.

A party? An open house? That meant the town’s people, nasty gossipers, curiosity quenchers, and judgment makers
.

Why should he host his own debauchment? He fixated on the two people he loved. Sean’s look held a wealth of hope and anticipation. While Jewel’s contained such compassion he swore he saw the glimmer of tears, making his heart squeeze.

Make them happy, that’s what you promised.
“Sure. Why not?”

“Yippee!” Sydney, now fully awake, cried.

“Cool!” Sean engaged him in a high five. The sound of their slapping palms rang out. “Oh, man, this is going to be the greatest one yet. We can clean out that old shed and make it into a haunted house.”

Jewel moved to Devon, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely, and then dropped a gentle kiss on his cheek. The softness of her and her rose-perfumed body didn’t escape his notice.

When she went to pull away, he held tight. Just the feel of her caused his breath to catch in the back of his throat. His heart hammered as her full, hard-tipped breasts pressed into his chest. With one touch he was set aflame. Reluctantly, he released her, stealing a quick, hard kiss before she backed away.