Man with a Past (15 page)

Was she? Or was she doing what Wilson said and protecting herself from Joe? Things had moved fast, they'd nearly made love. Was she using Joe's past as a barrier?

It
is
a barrier.

So go talk to him. Find out what happened. Hear him out and then decide now that you've calmed down.

Her head pounded out a protest even as her feet propelled her forward.

 

J
OE STARED AT THE BACK
of Ashley's head. “What?”

“Tell me about your daughter,” she repeated softly, her back to him while she spread moss-green paint on the opposite wall to where he was finishing up the second coat of paint on the ceiling.

Max was positioned in the doorway of the room, technically in the hall out of the way of the fumes. He pounded away with a rattle, his concentration intense.

Ashley had put the boy in a stationary car, so he was able to turn and play with toys lining the attached shelf, but unable to get out or into mischief.

“Well? You've tried to talk to me a couple of times and I wouldn't listen, but now…I'm ready.”

“What changed?”

“Are you going to tell me about her or not?”

Joe rewet his roller and went back to work. Silence stretched between them. Finally he decided to take the tentative peace offering. At least she'd hear his side this way.

“Her name was Josie,” he murmured. “Anna Josephine, but we called her Josie.”

“Pretty name.”

He didn't comment. “She was tiny, a preemie. Melissa had just lost her mom and was having a hard time dealing with it so her blood pressure was all over the place. She went into premature labor.

“Even though she was a preemie, Josie looked like an angel. She wasn't red or cone-headed or anything. She was small, barely three pounds.” He grinned. “Fifteen inches long.” Joe paused, his thoughts in the past, so proud when Mel had placed Josie in his arms. “I could hold her in my hand with her head on my fingers and her feet only came my wrist.”

“But she was okay?”

Ashley's voice prodded him on. Looking down at the paint-spattered plastic, he nodded. “Yeah, everybody was afraid her lungs weren't developed enough, but the doc said they were fine.”

“Dr. Booker?”

He shook his head. “No, he's new. This was one of the old docs, Peters. Don't know where he's at now. He was the old Doc Booker's competition.”

“Did you like being a dad?”

Joe glanced at Ashley, expecting to find some sort of criticism in her expression, but instead he found curiosity, concern. “I loved it.” He went back to work because it was easier to talk about Josie when he didn't just stand there and think.

“Mel and I, with everything going on with her mom's passing, she decided to break up with me. I'd asked her to marry me when we found out about the pregnancy, but she refused.”

“That must have been hard.”

Joe nodded. “It was, but now I see her side of things. She was overwhelmed, confused. We'd dated for a while, necked, but never gone all the way until her mom was on the brink. She passed away and now I see that's why Mel slept with me. The fact she got pregnant only made things worse for her.”

He tossed the roller into the pan and stalked over to the open window. Rain continued to pour outside and the walls were closing in on him.

“A day hasn't passed that I haven't asked myself what went wrong.” He shrugged. “But once the docs said it was shaken baby syndrome, and almost always the father, that was it. The thing is, other than the brain damage the autopsy showed, Josie had no bruises, no marks at all. Nothing to judge
the size of a person's fingers. Everything was perfect and matched the exam she'd had at the doctor's office a few days earlier. Josie was completely healthy until—” He broke off, cursed softly then regretted the word. He glanced at Max before turning back to the window and scrubbing a hand over his face to wipe away the tears burning his lids.

Ashley touched his arm and turned him to face her. Shaking, she raised a hand to his cheek. “Oh, Joe.”

“Mel asked me to come over,” he murmured, inhaling the sweet scent of Ashley's hair and drawing strength from it. “She said Josie had cried off and on all day and she couldn't take it anymore. That she needed a break and thought I'd like to see her.”

“Didn't she call the doctor?”

“She said she couldn't call every time she cried, and that she thought Josie had picked up on her frustration. She asked me to come over and watch her so she could get out of the house for a while.”

He pulled away, needing some distance to get it all out. “I went. Mel and I had been fighting a lot because she said since we'd broken up I shouldn't be hanging out there all the time. She said it looked bad and people would talk even more.” His laugh was rough. “I thought I was doing the right thing. That if I went over as much as I could, I could help with Josie and maybe get Mel to see she didn't have to do things on her own. That I wanted to be a part of Josie's life.”

Joe forced himself to turn and stalk across the room to the other window, away from Ashley. Farther away from Max. “Josie was asleep when I got there and even though the timing was lousy, I asked Mel to marry me. She turned me down again and left. Josie woke up crying. She didn't have a temperature, didn't want to eat, nothing. So I walked her, rubbed her back, her belly. Nothing worked.”

He smiled sadly. “Part of the prosecution's so-called proof was that I was angry with Mel because she'd turned me down. They said I took my upset out on my little girl.” He stared at the floor. No matter how many times he'd told the story, to his dad, to Mel, to Hal and the judge, it never got any easier.

“Then she stopped crying.” He shook his head but couldn't get the image out of his mind, the feel of her in his arms. “Just like that, she stopped.” He leaned his head against the cool glass. “She opened her eyes, looked at me, then closed her eyes again like she'd gone to sleep.” The lump in his throat grew larger. “She stopped breathing, shook. She died and I just sat there and watched it happen. I didn't know what to do…I couldn't save her.”

“Joe—”

He turned bleak eyes toward her and Ashley felt his pain, his overwhelming heartache. Felt it dig deep into her mother's soul.

“I didn't know what to do. I wasted precious seconds thinking I'd missed something, waiting on
her to breathe again. Finally I realized she wasn't and called the ambulance but it was too late. She died in my arms.”

Ashley didn't know what to say. What could you say to someone who'd experienced what he had? The chief had been adamant that Joe had killed his granddaughter, but now after hearing Joe's side of things, after witnessing for herself the horror and the pain Joe had endured—

She wasn't so sure. But neither was she convinced, considering he'd spent ten years behind bars for Josie's death. She was so confused.

“You'd better go take care of him.”

Only then did Max's fussy whimpers reach her ears. She turned toward Max, hoping he'd hush so they could still talk. “Joe—”

“Take care of your son, Ashley. I'll finish things up here.”

 

T
WO DAYS LATER
it was still raining, Ashley was beyond exhausted, and she was getting more frustrated by the second. Wilson got up and left every morning with one excuse or another, which severely limited her time and focus on the house.

Joe continued to avoid Max. When they did happen to cross paths, Joe circled around him or exited the room, didn't talk to him or acknowledge him even though Max stared at Joe more often than not during his nonstop gibberish sessions.
Max wasn't used to being ignored, and he got upset by the fact Joe didn't pay him any attention.

Upset enough that now every time Max got tired of his exercise ring and she placed him on the floor, he was off like a shot, crawling across the room as though setting out to find Joe and figure out why he wanted nothing to do with him.

She usually caught Max in plenty of time before Joe noticed, but now she looked up from what she was doing to find Joe staring at Max with an expression nothing short of heartbreaking.

All because Max had used Joe's leg to pull himself up and now stood with his head tilted all the way back as he stared up at Joe's face. Max wobbled and held on, wrinkled his little nose and grinned, proudly displaying the tooth that had finally managed to break through. But just when Joe started to smile he caught himself and turned back to his work.

Ashley hurried over and plucked Max from the floor. “Sorry.”

“No problem.”

“Da.”

Ashley froze and stared at Max. No way. “Did he just say— Max, did you just say—”

“Da-da-da-da-da-da.”

Ashley laughed, amazed that her baby had said his first word—words!—and looked up to share her excitement only to see Joe stalk from the room.

She stared down at her son, her smile fading fast. “Oh, Max,” she murmured, hugging him close. “He didn't do it, did he?” She kissed his cheek and sighed, smoothed a hand over his fine hair and kissed him again. “What happened to Josie?”

J
OE CURSED AS HIS
eyes opened and he realized a shadow loomed over him. Of all times for his senses to fail him.

He lunged up off the lounge chair where he'd slept, grabbed the person and twisted so that he'd land with him on top, belatedly recognizing the person was Ashley. He shifted again but it was too late, half his body crashed down on top her.

“
Oof!”

He shoved himself to an elbow and pushed the hair off her face. “What are you— Don't ever sneak up on me like that.”

Wide eyes stared up at him and each breath that panted out of her chest hit his mouth with the scent of mint and woman. “I'm sorry. I didn't think—”

He closed his thoughts off from where her nearness led them. “What are you doing here?”

Her expression firmed at his tone. After Max used his leg for a pulley, he supposed she had every right to be angry with him since he hadn't managed to stay away from her son, but he'd done the
next best thing and stayed away from both of them the rest of the day. Now she was here?

“Stupid man, don't you know enough to come in out of danger?”

He stared.

“The rain! The pond's overflowing and the shed is built over the water!”

Joe leaned over the side of the lounge to look at the floor and did indeed see water just beginning to come through the cracks. “So you came down here to—”

“Tell you to come to the house.”

He shoved himself to his feet. “I'll be fine.”

“You're not staying here.”

“The pond has a spillway on the other side, it won't get any higher than it is now.”

“Says who?”

“Me.”

Somehow they'd wound up shouting at each other. Joe stared down at her sprawled form, all too conscious of her long bare legs stretched out and parted before him.

“Go back to the house.” He reluctantly held out a hand to help her up.

“Not without you,” she challenged. Ashley ignored him and pushed herself to her elbows, onto her feet. “Come on, this is stupid.”

“What about children's services?”

“This is an emergency—and we can talk inside.
Come on!” She pressed her hands to his bare chest and shoved firmly.

Joe reached for his jeans and pulled them on. She waited, watched while he grabbed his duffel and followed her out to the hill leading up to the house. Ashley's feet slipped and he grasped her elbow to steady her on the incline.

At the top they ran, slipped and slid across the wet grass to the front porch. Finally they made it and Ashley laughed as she ran up the steps. Joe looked up in time to see her nicely rounded rump at eye level, and that's when he noticed she wore a T-shirt and nothing else. A
wet
T-shirt.

He groaned.

“I know. How can it be so hot and the rain be so cold?” She swung around to face him and her mouth parted with a gasp.

Joe tried to hide his need for her but he figured at this point, why bother. She knew all there was to know about him.

“Oh, Joe.”

That was all she said before she stepped close and pressed her body to his. Her hands cupped his face and since she was a step above him, she stared straight into his eyes, searching.

He knew what she searched for.

“I swear to you, I didn't. Ashley, I'd trade my life in a heartbeat if I could. I didn't hurt her. I didn't kill her.”

She nodded once before she kissed him. Joe dropped his duffel to the porch floor and filled his hands with cold, wet material and hot, willing woman.

Ashley moaned against his lips. “Inside,” she murmured, licking the corner of his mouth with a sexy little stroke that set his body on fire.

Ashley pushed him away but grabbed hold of his hand and opened the door. Joe stooped and lifted his duffel, then stared at her in dawning wonder.

She believed him.

Inside her room, Joe had barely closed the door when Ashley grabbed the long T-shirt and pulled it over her head.

He groaned and reached for her.

“Oh, no. This time you've gotta wait,” she murmured. “This time is for both of us.”

Warmth filled him and in that moment he knew he'd spend the rest of his life proving to her and Max how much he loved them.

Ashley smiled and curled a finger for him to come to her, backing toward her bed.

“Ashley—”

“Don't,” she whispered. “We have plenty of time to talk and figure things out. And we will,” she promised huskily. “Later.”

His heart thudded hard against his chest. “Whatever you say, boss.”

Her breasts jiggled as she laughed. “I think I
like the sound of that.” Her head tilted to one side. “But in the meantime one of us is overdressed.”

Joe lifted a hand to the snap of his jeans.

“I knew I shouldn't have let you put those on,” Ashley said while she watched Joe ease the zipper over his straining erection. Their cold run to the house had done nothing to suppress the heat inside her. Heat generated by the images bombarding her head with every step she'd taken with Joe at her side.

The future would have to be faced, the police chief dealt with. But for now she had Joe and she wasn't letting him go.

His jeans and briefs hit the floor. “Now who's overdressed?”

She liked this side of him. This teasing, masculine side that turned her on and gave her the shivers at the same time.

Her hair was wet from the rain and she felt a drop of water slide over her collarbone to the tip of her breast. And thanks to the light she'd left on to read the latest home repair book she'd picked up at the library, she knew Joe saw it as well.

“You are beautiful.”

She felt beautiful the way he looked at her. In Joe's eyes she was just the way she was meant to be.

“So are you.” His body was lined with muscle, hardened, seasoned by years of having to defend himself against other inmates. She shoved those
thoughts away, unable to think about all that could have happened.

Joe closed the distance between them and just when her breasts met his chest, she lowered her head and kissed the tattoo on his arm. “Turn around.”

“Things won't work that way,” he teased, the words rumbling out of his chest.

Still, he did as she asked and she got an eyeful of taut backside and corded muscles. She smoothed her hands up his arms, trailed her fingers to his shoulders, in to his neck and down his spine. She rose to her tiptoes and pressed another kiss to his skin, this one to the tattoo of Josie's name.

“Ashley.” His voice broke, husky, filled with too much emotion and needing an outlet. Joe turned so fast she gasped, and even though she stood mere inches from the bed, he swept her into his arms to lower her to the surface. Then Joe's mouth covered hers, his tongue delved deep and she immediately discovered a difference between this kiss and the ones they'd shared before she'd found out the truth.

Joe's hesitation was gone. Her acceptance of him, of his past, had unleashed something inside him, a fierceness, a tenderness.

His lips left hers to explore and they followed the same path as the droplet of water earlier. Rough, callused hands rasped over her skin,
teased, dipped into curves, his fingers stroking and squeezing until she had a hard time catching her breath because over and over he'd find some erotically tender spot and the air would rush from her lungs again.

His head dipped lower, his hands smoothed over her legs and parted them even more as his lips grazed her stomach, her inner thigh. She closed her eyes when he found her. Kissed her with a passion long denied and within moments she flew with a hoarse moan of surrender.

She loved him, loved him.

“I love you, too, babe.”

She hadn't realized she'd said the words aloud until Joe's husky murmur slid over her skin. Until he kept repeating the words while he hastily donned the condom pulled from his wallet and settled himself between her legs. He kissed her and she sighed, knowing everything, no matter how difficult, would be all right. It had to be. Wilson's faith in the power above had rubbed off on her. They'd find a way.

Ashley sucked in a breath as Joe pressed deep. It had been so long. Not since the night of Max's conception. Joe paused, his arms straining. He held himself still when he obviously wanted to move.

She smoothed her fingertips over his face. “Don't stop.”

“I don't want to hurt you.”

She smiled through the tears stinging her eyes, raised her head to press her lips to his the same time she lifted her legs and curled them around his hips. She pressed him down, deep inside her, and moaned when she felt Joe's strength.

The care he took with her, his gentleness, made it all too clear how wrong she'd been.

Her climax caught her by surprise. She gasped, her body tense. Maybe it was because it had been so long. Maybe it was Joe. Maybe it was the love they shared, more powerful than any she'd ever known.

Joe caught her moan with his mouth, his hard body pumping into hers, once, twice, then harder and faster until he groaned out his own release.

 

J
OE AWOKE WITH A START
and wondered where he was. An instant later he felt Ashley's body tucked up against his and smiled. After making love for the first time, they'd showered and then made love twice more.

Max whimpered, and Joe recognized the sound from the monitor as the same that had woken him. He glanced at Ashley and saw her sleeping deeply, her mouth parted slightly.

The soft shadows beneath her eyes had him getting out of bed and ignoring the voice in his head telling him not to push too hard, too soon, and chance screwing things up.

Still, he padded into Max's bedroom, the nightlight allowing him to see replicas of Ashley's eyes staring up at him. “Hey, buddy. You hungry?”

Max rolled onto his rump and pushed himself up to a sitting position.

“You're not going to scream if I touch you, are you?” Joe braced his forearms on the crib, his hands out, and waited to see what Max would do. If he didn't want him to pick him up, fine. Either way the choice was up to Max.

Tiny hands, their strength unimaginable, latched on to his fingers. Max pulled himself up and took a step toward him in the crib. Joe smiled and carefully lifted Max into his arms.

“Okay, it'll be us guys then. We'll let your mama sleep.”

Slowly so he didn't frighten Max, Joe made his way down the stairs to the kitchen. He'd watched Ashley make Max's bottles countless times so he did the same now, holding Max in one arm while he measured the powder into a prepared bottle of water.

Hesitant, he nearly panicked when Max whimpered and reached for the bottle before it was ready. Joe shook it harder to get the mixture to dissolve and Max glanced up at him, then laughed his little baby laugh at the jostling.

“You like that, huh?” He shook the bottle a bit more to hear the sound again. “Okay, it looks ready. Here, try it out.”

Max took the bottle in both hands and leaned his head against Joe's chest while he drank. Legs weak from the whole process, Joe headed back upstairs. He entered Ashley's bedroom long enough to turn the monitor off, and then carried Max through the bathroom and back into the nursery.

Joe eased himself down into the rocking chair with a sigh. “You keep staring at me. Am I doing something wrong?”

He got a blink in response.

“You want a story, don't you?” He shook his head. “Sorry, buddy, I don't know any.”

Another blink. Max pulled the bottle from his mouth and stared up at him, a pout forming on his lips. Joe gently bounced the baby boy in his arms. “Okay, okay, I get it. You gotta have a story 'cause your mama always tells you one.”

As though understanding or at least willing to give him another chance, Max put the bottle back in his mouth with a sigh.

“Once upon a time,” Joe began uncomfortably. “That's how they're supposed to start right? Okay, so…once upon a time, there was an unbelievably beautiful woman with a son named Max…”

 

A
SHLEY STRUGGLED THROUGH
the fog of sleep and turned on her side. That's when she noticed her body was sore and achy in a pleasant way—and Joe wasn't in her bed.

Max.

She sat up so fast her head spun. Had he really slept through the night for the first time ever?

She shoved the sheet aside and grabbed her nightshirt from the floor only to discard it with a wrinkled nose. It was still damp and cold—no way was she putting that on.

She grabbed the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around her, tucking the end between her breasts. She'd check on Max then hop in the shower. Get dressed and go find Joe. Humming one of her favorite country love songs, she entered Max's room only to stop in her tracks.

Joe sat sprawled in the rocking chair dressed only in his damp jeans. Max was held firmly against Joe's bare shoulder, both sleeping soundly, an empty bottle on the floor by Joe's feet.

She stared at them, her hand over her mouth to muffle her gasp. How could she have ever thought Joe would harm a baby? Even now, in sleep, Joe was protective of Max. Tender. His arms firm and guarding.

Just like he'd protected her from the lightning. Risked himself in their fall. Volunteered to stay in the shed.

One after another the images came. Joe at the nursing home reading to those whose eyesight wouldn't allow them to read for themselves. Joe fixing a wheelchair and hanging a picture, moving a hospital bed for a woman who didn't
want to lose her job. All thoughtful, wonderful, considerate things. Things an uncaring, selfish, mean-spirited person wasn't capable of doing on a regular basis. Things he could've blown off but didn't.

She must have made some sound because Joe awoke, but unlike the way he'd startled awake in the shed, this time he merely opened his eyes and smiled a sexy, sleepy smile as he pressed his bare foot to the floor and set the rocker in motion.