As she pulled into her drive, she grinned at her perfect little neighborhood and cut the engine of her car that actually ran...most of the time. She hurried to unload her groceries and was just starting to turn toward the front door when she noticed the car parked at the curb.
Living where she did, she was used to pricey automobiles cruising her block. To the left of her house, the Young family owned a loaded Escalade and a Mercedes Benz, and her neighbors to the right drove a Bentley. For a shiny new Infiniti to be parked directly in front of her sidewalk, however, was unusual. She glanced up and down the street, wondering if maybe one of her neighbors was having a get-together, and the Infiniti had merely been looking for a spot to rest. But, 31
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no, the roadside wasn't crowded with an overabundance of parked vehicles. Therefore, there was really no reason for someone to park directly in front of her place.
Shrugging off the curiosity, Ellie turned around and started up her front walk. For a moment, she was busy trying to juggle her two sacks of food while digging her house key from her purse. She didn't notice the man until she nearly plowed into him.
She saw the shoes first, a fancy pair of brown suede loafers. They were large, obviously belonging to a male, and partially covered by the hem of tan slacks.
And they were planted on the top step of her porch.
Ellie screamed and dropped her groceries. The shoes moved, taking a step down. Her gaze shot up even as she bent at the knees to retrieve her spilled goods.
And that was where she froze, face tipped up, knees slightly bent, back stooped over, and hand reaching down to snatch her sacks.
Her mouth fell open. "Oh," she breathed in awe as she took in the whole majestic form.
She'd hate to break it to this guy, but if he had anything nefarious in mind, he might want to rethink his life of crime, because honestly, you couldn't really rape the willing.
He was absolutely gorgeous. Tall, dark, handsome, glaringly rich. Too bad all those features turned her off because, well, hello...the way he stared made her think he'd seen her naked and wanted her that way again. Soon.
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"Um..." she offered, biting her lip and bending just a little more to grab her bags. "Hello," she finally said and straightened. "Can I...can I help you with something?"
She glanced back toward the Infiniti. Definitely his. Stylish, sleek, a bit conservative while still managing to scream money.
"Yes," he said. "I really think you can help me...Ellie."
That voice.
Ellie whirled back and gaped as the man glided the rest of the way off the porch and took the last three steps toward her.
Oh, God, she knew that walk, that oh-so-gracefully smooth stroll. And that voice. She definitely knew that voice.
Eyes snapping to his face, she searched for familiar features until the young man she'd once known took form in the face of the adult before her. When he sent her a half sneer, half smile, she dropped her groceries again.
" Boston?"
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33
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Chapter Three
"Been a while, huh?" Boston said, skimming a quick gaze down her body before eyeing the two mangled bags at her feet.
"Oh, my God," Ellie blurted out. "What... How...oh, my God." She covered her opened mouth with her hands and gaped at him over her shaking fingers.
What was he doing here? How had he found her? And why in the world had he come?
There was nothing Boston Kincaid would ever need from her. Things had been cut and dried the last time she'd seen him. She'd told him to leave and never come back, something he'd been itching to do for over a month. So it wasn't like he needed any kind of closure. Everything between them was dead. Door closed, locked, and dead-bolted with its key missing for a full decade. There was no feasible reason for him to return. Unless...
No, it wasn't possible. He didn't know. He couldn't know. If he knew, he sure as hell wouldn't have waited this long to come back. But it was the only reason he might ever show up in her life again.
Panic and fear struck; her face drained of color.
His features drew tight and turned hard as if he could read every thought racing through her head. But he merely slid his hands casually into his pockets, achieving that deceptively calm demeanor he'd always been so good at posing.
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"Going to invite me inside?" he asked, tipping his head toward her house.
Ellie frowned and dropped her hands from her mouth. No, no, no. There was no way she'd let him into her home. There were too many pictures of Cassie in there. He couldn't go anywhere near the front door. She had to get rid of him...fast. Slicing an uneasy glance his way, she swallowed as his penetrating eyes nailed her to the spot. God, they were the same shade of blue as Cassie's.
The man was still devastatingly attractive. Ellie bit the inside of her lip and wondered why he couldn't have gotten fat, lost his hair, or developed some kind of nasty twitch.
Why'd he have to look even better after ten years? It wasn't fair. And it wasn't helping her concentration at all.
His hair was still inky black but a lot shorter now. And as unbelievable as it could be, she swore his shoulders were even wider. His chest had definitely filled out. He'd always been tall, so at least that hadn't changed. And the aura around him was still—
"Ellie," he said.
As she realized she was just standing there, ogling, and doing nothing whatsoever to scoot him along, her face heated.
"What are you doing here, Boston? How did you..." Find me. She paused. How had he found her? And why had he wanted to? There could only be one reason, but Ellie was going to deny that explanation for as long as she could. There had to be something else.
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"You have some very... observant neighbors," he murmured, glancing pointedly toward the Young's house on the left. "Maybe we should go inside before starting this conversation."
Ellie followed his stare and caught sight of Nora in her yard, openly watching them as she watered her plants, drowning her poor roses. She lifted her hand and waved.
Boston waved back and gave a nod of greeting. Letting out a groan of misery, Ellie wondered how in the world she was ever going to explain Boston to Nora...and there was no doubt in her mind Nora would badger her until she revealed every detail.
"We have a lot to discuss," Boston told her, turning back with a probing look. "And I don't think you want an audience any more than I do."
Well...that didn't sound good. Actually, it sounded downright threatening. Boston had never been quite this menacing before. Her knees turned to Jell-O.
"What's going on?" she demanded, the hair standing straight up on her arms.
His jaw went stubbornly hard, but when Ellie remained rooted in her spot, he sighed and took his hand from his pocket, holding up an envelope folded between his fingers for her to see.
Ellie's mouth dried out. Eying the letter, she had this urge to snap it from him and tear it into tiny pieces. With no idea what was inside the note, she had a strong suspicion it had somehow brought him here.
"Did you really have a miscarriage?" he asked.
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God...there it was.
The earth opened and left her suspended above a deep chasm. Ellie's ears buzzed; her skin turned prickly and cold.
This was it. He knew. She had no idea how, but he'd finally discovered the truth.
Life flashing before her eyes, her heart rate accelerated.
The man she'd once thought had completely destroyed her was back to do it all over again.
She glanced at the letter and then up int
o his eyes. A nervous droplet of sweat leaked down the center of her spine, making the back of her shirt cling to her skin.
Licking her dry lips, she held his gaze and croaked,
"Excuse me?"
"Did you lie to me in the hospital that day?" he repeated.
The question was asked a little less calmly this time.
Ellie shrank back a step, but she frowned as if he were insane. "Why would I lie?" she hedged, glancing back at the note he was now unknowingly starting to crumble in the tightening muscles of his fist.
"That's a good question," he murmured in a steely soft voice. "Why would you lie?"
Ellie backed up another cautious step. Shaking her head, she said, "I don't..." Her eyes darted to the letter in his hand.
"What is that, anyway?"
"It's a letter," he stated the obvious. "Written to my brother, Monty."
"Written to your...your brother?"
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He nodded and took a looming step closer. "You really have no idea about this, do you?" He wasn't asking. He stated it as if he were just now convinced of that fact.
"Of course not," Ellie snapped, wanting to back away some more, but remaining stubbornly still. "You're not making any sense. What does some letter to your brother have anything to do with me?" She set her hands on her hips and sent him her best intimidating glare. "And how in the world did you know where I live?"
For an answer, she got a slight smirk. "Well, that was the easy part," he murmured, unfolding the letter. "It was on the return address."
Boston held up the note for her to read. And sure enough, there it was, in her daughter's handwriting, their permanent address. Right above it were the printed words, Cassidy Trenton.
Ellie's mouth dropped. "Oh, my God."
"Who's Cassidy Trenton?" he asked. "And why did she send my brother a letter, asking him if he was her father?"
"She what?!" Snatching the note from his hand, Ellie ripped the stationary from the envelope. "I can't believe this,"
she murmured even as she read the words. "I can't..." She pressed a hand to the side of her face. "What in God's name was she thinking? And why would she believe your brother was..."
She glanced up; her words fell silent as she met the deadly expression on his face.
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"Still feel like standing out here?" he asked. "Because, at this point, I don't care where the hell we talk. As long as I get some goddamn answers. Right now."
"Okay." Ellie quickly nodded, finally becoming compliant.
"Let's go inside." She stepped forward and nearly went sprawling flat on her face as she tripped over the grocery bags she'd dropped.
"Oh," she mumbled, glancing down.
She swept one bag into her arm and reached for the other, except Boston leaned down and snagged it with one hand.
She looked up, surprised. His cool blue eyes studied her dispassionately.
She flushed and looked away. "Umm, thank you," she mumbled and hurried past him. With him so close behind her, her fingers shook as she tried to unlock the front door.
Leaning her single sack against her hip and chest to help balance it, she made three attempts before she finally slid the key home and managed to get them inside.
As she stepped over the threshold, something wet and gooey soaked through her shirt. She glanced down as she flipped on the interior light and groaned. Yep, she'd completely forgotten about the eggs. Yellow goop seeped through the brown paper bag, leaking down the side.
"Great," she mumbled. This was just icing on the cake.
Dropping her purse to the floor at her feet after she slid it off her shoulder, she backed away and watched Boston fill the room, still holding her other bag of groceries down at his side with one fist. Her eyes lifted, and she blushed as he glanced at the egg stain on her left breast.
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"I..." she started, feeling like a total moron. "I need to clean this up. Just...wait right here," she called, already turning away and hurrying toward the kitchen.
Her pulse jack-hammered a mile a minute. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she dumped the rumpled bag on her counter and hauled the mangled egg carton from the top.
Filmy egg white dripped through her fingers as she deposited the whole container into the sink.
After rinsing her hands and dampening a washcloth, she extracted more groceries from their death tote, sponging them clean. She'd just wiped a sticky smudge off her plastic salad containers when she was struck anew by the situation.
Her daughter's father waited down the hall in her living room. Boston Kincaid was in her house, waiting for answers she didn't want to give. Vision blurring, Ellie grabbed the edge of the counter and coached her breathing back to normal.
Okay, she could deal with this. There was no reason to panic. She should leave the groceries to unpack later and finish her talk with Boston, though, oh God, she didn't want to stop dealing with the groceries. She wanted to continue washing them and putting them away, pretending everything was still normal and her whole existence wasn't being threatened.
Worst case scenario, she'd end up losing her little girl forever. Since that was very unlikely, she should just settle down, because she could deal with anything else he threw her way. But at the mere thought of losing her baby girl...
Her breath hitched. Cassidy was the best thing that had ever happened to her.
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Ellie's pulse doubled, and she became dizzy all over again.
Fighting off the black dots blotting her vision, she straightened and smoothed down her slacks. She needed to go out there and confront him before Cassie made it home, which was pretty much any moment now. But as her hands slipped over her blouse, ironing out wrinkles, she encountered the egg mess.
"Shit, shit, shit," she muttered and fumbled to unbutton the shirt.
As she did, she hurried toward the doorway that led onto the back porch, which in turn doubled as the laundry room.
Glad she hadn't gotten around to folding the last load in the dryer, she yanked out the first top she saw and shrugged out of the egg blouse. Her fingers tripped over the buttons in her haste to shed it. She'd just lifted her arms to pull the clean, yet wrinkled T-shirt over her head when she turned to reenter the kitchen.
Gasping, she screeched to a stop as she came eye to eye with Boston. Grocery bag still in hand, he'd found his way back and was perched frozen in the opposite doorway across the room, appearing caught off guard by her state of undress.
Though ten feet of space separated them, he might as well be touching her by the way his gaze slid down her bra and flat stomach.
Ellie remained frozen for probably a full second before she yanked her shirt the rest of the way down. Boston made a disinterested snort as he stepped into the kitchen to set her second sack of groceries on the countertop. He turned away, keeping his back to her, and examined her mini kitchen.
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"The eggs broke when I dropped the groceries," she explained needlessly.
Feeling moronic, she returned to the counter and wiped dripping yolk off other foodstuff. She made a point not to make eye contact with him. But from the corner of her peripheral vision, she watched him wander toward the refrigerator. Proof of his daughter's existence littered the surface.
Pausing at a picture of Cassie in her soccer uniform, posing with a ball, Boston studied the shot for a good fifteen seconds. Ellie wondered what he was thinking, wondered if he experienced that instant spark of pride she always did every time she looked at her daughter. He turned suddenly as if staring at the picture was too much to take in and zeroed in on a graded math test where Cassie had scored an A+. Slowly reaching out, he tugged the sheet f
rom its magnet.
"Where is she?" he asked.
"What?" Ellie jumped and spun fully toward him, startled to discover he'd lifted his face and was staring at her, waiting for an answer. She focused on the test in his hand and let out a breath. "Oh. Cassie's at..." she was about to spill out her exact whereabouts. One of the carpool mom's would be bringing her home from tumbling lessons any minute now.
But she caught herself, realizing she didn't want him knowing too much.
"She's not here," she finished in a bold voice she didn't feel.
He scowled.
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She sighed and stopped wiping. "Look, Boston. I don't know what gave her the idea to send that letter to your brother, but—"
"Dammit, Ellie," he snapped. "Is she mine or not?"
Ellie blinked. "Of course she's yours."
"Of course," he repeated on a derisive snort. Every muscle in his face pulled tight as he threw her a look to kill. "Then why did you tell me she died?"
When Ellie jumped at his tone, he paused to wipe at his mouth, a full attempt to gain some composure. But then it all slipped and boiled over again.
"You told me the baby was dead. You said you had a miscarriage. You demanded I get out and leave you alone.
Lord above, Ellie, why did you do that?"
Ellie folded her hands in prayer and pressed them to her mouth. When she moved them away, she met his accusing gaze directly. Why exactly had she lied to him? That was the million dollar question.
At the time she'd thought she was in love. It didn't matter if he'd hurt her and resented ever meeting her; she'd adored him. She hadn't been able to bear the thought of him hating her and holding a grudge against her because she'd accidentally gotten pregnant. He'd been full of so many dreams, had so many plans for his life. Those plans had been important enough to him that he'd gotten rid of her in order to pursue them. Ellie had presumed that if his dreams were that big, then he should go after them. So, she'd cut him loose and taken all the fear and trouble of a baby onto her own shoulders.
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She couldn't tell him any of this, however. Not only would he not believe her, but that reason wasn't even valid anymore. She no longer loved him that way. She no longer cared about providing him with an opportunity to follow his life's dream. Lifting her face, she let out a breath and met his accusing gaze.