One in a Million (21 page)

“
You took on a lot at an early age. I think kids
who have to grow up fast never forget what it was
like to be young and in charge. I had the same thing
at home. My mom worked a lot of hours and my
brother was a complete screw-up. He was born to
break rules. Even though we were twins, I always
felt like the oldest."

“
But he grew out of it," she said. "Kevin's a
U.S. Marshal now." Kevin had changed. Grown up. Most people did. Just not Marty.

Nash turned around and looked at her. "How did this conversation get so serious? People having an affair aren't supposed to talk about anything signif
icant."
She smiled. "I didn't know. This is my first affair,
so you'll have to fill me in on all the rules." He set the brush on the edge of the paint can and
walked toward her. "The rules are whatever we
want them to be."

“Really?"
There was a light in his dark eyes that made her
insides quiver. As he approached, she put the roller
onto the tray and leaned down. The kiss was hard,
hot and left her breathless. Wanting exploded within
her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let
him lower her to the ground.

“
It's been less than three hours and I want you
again," he murmured against her mouth. "At this
rate we're not going to get a lot of work done."

“I don't mind."

“Good, because I—" A noise caught their attention. Both she and Nash
turned. Stephanie cringed when she saw Brett stand
ing in the open doorway of the gatehouse. The look
on his face told her that he'd seen her in Nash's
arms and that he felt betrayed. Before she could say anything, he took off for the house.

Desire drained out of her, leaving behind guilt and confusion. On the one hand, she was glad that Brett
remembered his father and still thought about him.
On the other hand, while she wasn't looking for love
or anything close to it, she knew it wasn't right for her to close off that part of her life simply because
her twelve-year-old son might not approve. Brett
had to learn that it was okay to move on with life.
But was this the time to have that conversation? And
if so, what was she going to say? Complicating the
situation was the fact that she and Nash didn't have
a relationship she could explain to her children.

There was no one to ask, she thought sadly. No
one to share her worries with. Like most tough times
in her life, she was going to have to wing it and
hope she didn't mess up too badly.

She took a step toward the house, then stopped
when Nash touched her arm.

“Brett's upset," he said.

“I know."

“Maybe this would be better discussed with a
_guy
"
Stephanie stared at him. "You want to talk to
Brett about what he saw?"

“
Want
is a little strong, but I have an idea about
what he's feeling. I'm not going to tell him what's
going on between us, but I can reassure him." She considered the offer. The mature side of her
argued that Brett was
her
child and
her
responsibil
ity. While Nash was probably a nice guy and defi
nitely great in bed, he didn't have children of his
own and he had only known hers for a few days.
Therefore she should be the one to make things right
with her son. The rest of her wanted to toss the
problem in his lap and let him solve it. Just once it
would be nice not to have to sweat the right thing
to say.

“I really should talk to him," she said.

Nash lightly kissed her. "Go paint," he told her.
"Give me ten minutes. If I'm not back by then,
come find us."
Letting go was unfamiliar. Releasing responsibil
ity was unheard of. Stephanie battled what was right
with what was easy. Before she'd made a decision,
Nash left the gatehouse.

Ten minutes, she told herself as she checked her
watch. He couldn't mess up too badly in that amount
of time, could he? Nash walked into the house and paused to listen.
When he heard something thump against the floor,
he headed for the kitchen rather than the stairs.

When he pushed open the door, he found Brett
banging his way through emptying the dishwasher.
The kid's shoulders were slumped and stark pain
darkened his blue eyes.

“Hey," he said. "How's it going?"
The twelve-year-old spun to glare at him. "You
don't belong here," Brett yelled. "You're a guest. Guests stay in the public rooms. Not the kitchen.
The kitchen is for family. Get out."
Nash closed the door behind him and approached
the boy. Brett clutched a pot in his hands as if he
would use it as a weapon if he had to.

“Did you hear me?" the kid demanded.

“
I heard all of it. Even what you didn't say."
Nash recognized the boy's helplessness, the frus
tration that fueled anger. He knew Brett wanted to
be big enough and strong enough to force Nash out
of the room, the house and his mother's life. Brett
wanted Nash never to have come here, never to have
existed. Now that he was here, Brett wanted him
gone.

The old feelings were still there, Nash thought
with some surprise as he took a seat at the table.

Buried, nearly forgotten, but still real. How many
times had he wanted to take on Howard? Bad
enough when Howard and his mother had just been
dating, it had gone worse when the two had an
nounced their engagement and said Howard would be adopting the boys. Like they were babies. Like
they needed him.

“
Your mom's a real nice lady," Nash said
slowly, searching for the right words, trying to re
member what would have made him feel better.
"Pretty, a lot of fun." He glanced at Brett and gave a slight smile. "She
probably seems old to you, but not to me. I like her
a lot."
Fear flashed in Brett's eyes. Nash leaned forward
and rested his elbows on his knees.

“
The thing is, I'm just passing through," he said.
"I'm not sticking around. In a couple of weeks I'll go back to
Chicago
. That's where I live and work.
That's where my life is." His life? For the first time since Tina's death Nash
realized he was lying about having anything close
to a life. He had a job and that was about it. Few
friends outside of work. None that he socialized
with. He lived alone and he was damned tired of it.

He shook off that train of thought. Later, he told himself. Right now Brett was more important.

“
I understand what you're going through," Nash
said.

Brett turned away. "Yeah, right."

“
Okay. Grown-ups say that all the time. It's bor
ing and annoying, huh? But in this case, it's true.
Your dad died. My dad never bothered to stick
around after he got my mom pregnant. There was
just her, Kevin and me. She was really young and
didn't have any money, so it was hard for her. She
worked a lot. She worried a lot. I hated to see that,
so I filled in when I could. Sort of like you with the twins."
Brett traced a pattern on the countertop. Nash
wasn't sure, but he thought the kid might be listen
ing.

“
They're still pretty young," he continued, "but
you
understand that it's hard for her. You worry.
And the last thing you need is some guy coming in
to mess up your family."
Brett looked at him in surprise.

Nash nodded. "It happened to us. My mom
started dating this guy—Howard. He was okay, I
guess. But I never really trusted him. Why was he
butting in? He didn't belong."

“
What happened?" Brett asked.

“
They got married. I didn't want them to, but
they did anyway."
There was more to the story, but Nash didn't
bother going into it. He'd made his point.

“
I'm not like that," he told Brett. "I like your
mom and I'd like to see her while I'm in town. But
I
am
leaving, so all this is temporary. I'm not looking to get married or to replace your dad. I wanted
you to know that, man-to-man." He waited while Brett considered the information. Then the kid sucked in a breath.

“
Okay. I get it." He still looked troubled, but not
so afraid. "I guess my mom needs someone to talk
to and stuff." He gaze narrowed. "But you
shouldn't kiss her where just anyone can see. My
brothers wouldn't understand. They don't remember
Dad much and they might think you're sticking
around."

“Good point. I'll remember it." Nash stood.
"Something else, Brett. You may not believe me,
but it's true. Even if your mom were to find some
one she fell in love with and wanted to marry, that
doesn't mean the guy would be taking your dad's
place. No one can do that. You might even like the
guy, which would be okay, too. But your dad will
always be your dad." Brett looked doubtful, but didn't disagree. Nash
figured he'd done as much as he could. He held out
his hand.

“Friends?" he asked.

Brett stared at his hand, then him. Finally he
moved close and they shook.

“I guess we can be friends," the boy said.

“
I'd like that." He jerked his head toward the
front of the house. "I'm going back to the gatehouse
now, if that's all right with you."
Brett nodded. "Tell my mom I'm going to get
changed, then I'll come help, too."

“I know she'll appreciate that."
Brett headed for the door, then paused. Staring at
the ground he said, "Thanks for explaining things,
Nash."

“You're welcome."
Nash returned to the gatehouse and found Steph
anie waiting impatiently by the door.

“
You nearly hit your limit," she said, glancing
from him to her watch. "I was giving you ten
minutes, then I was going to barge in and take
over."
She tried to smile as she spoke, but he could see
the worry in her eyes.

“
We worked it out," he said, then explained what
he and Brett had discussed.

When he was done, she sank onto the floor and
pulled her knees up to her chest. "Thanks for clearing things up with him. He and I used to be able to
talk about anything, but lately I've noticed things
are changing. I guess it's because he's getting older.
I'm not looking forward to him being a teenager.
That's for sure."

“
He'll get through it, as will you," he said,
crouching next to her. "He's a good kid."

“
Too good. Oh, sure, he can be a pain, but for the most part, he really tries to step in and help.
Sometimes it's easy to let him. When that happens
I do my best to remember he is still a kid and not
my personal assistant. He's getting to that age when
he needs a man around. Sometimes I think I should
get over my fear of getting involved with another
irresponsible guy and get married simply to take the
heat off Brett. It would sure give him a break."
She continued talking, but Nash no longer heard
what she was saying. Instead he was remembering
a conversation he'd had with his mother shortly after
she'd told him she was marrying Howard. He'd pro
tested the engagement, saving they didn't need
Howard around. His mother had tried to explain that
Howard was a good man whom she loved very
much.