Lucy Ann left so little for herself.
“Well, come to find out, Aunt Carla never used it,” Lucy Ann said wryly, pushing the door open into the living room. The decor hadn’t changed, the same brown plaid sofa with the same saggy middle, the same dusty Hummel figurines packed in a corner cabinet. He’d forgotten how Carla scoured yard sales religiously for the things, unable to afford them new.
They’d hidden here more than once as kids, then as teenagers, plotting a way to escape their home lives. He eyed the son he’d barely met but who already filled his every plan going forward. “Your aunt’s prideful, just like you.”
“I accepted a job from you.” She settled Eli into a portable crib by the couch.
“You worked your butt off and got your degree in computer technology.” He admired the way she never took the easy way out. How she’d found a career for herself.
So why had she avoided talking to him? Surely not from any fear of confrontation. Her hair swung forward as she leaned into the baby crib, her dress clinging to her hips. His gaze hitched on the new curves.
Lucy Ann spun away from the crib and faced him again. “Are we going to keep making small talk or are you going to call a cab? I could drive you back into town.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Her eyebrows pinched together. “I thought we agreed to talk tomorrow.”
“You decided. I never agreed.” He dropped to sit on the sofa arm. If he sat in the middle, no telling how deep that sag would sink.
“You led me to believe...” She looked around as if searching for answers, but the Hummels stayed silent. “Damn it. You just wanted to get in the house.”
Guilty as charged. “This really is the best place to discuss the future. Anywhere else and I’ll have to be on the lookout for fans. We’re in NASCAR country, you know. Not Formula One, but kissing cousins.” He held up his hands. “Besides, my jackass buddies stranded me without my wallet.”
She gasped. “You’re joking.”
“I wish.” They must have taken it from his pocket while he was knocked out. He tamped down another surge of anger over being manipulated. If he’d just had some warning...
“Why did they do this to you—to both of us?” She sat on the other arm of the sofa, the worn width between them.
“Probably because they know how stubborn we are.” He watched her face, trying to read the truth in the delicate lines, but he saw only exhaustion and dark circles. “Would you have ever told me about the baby?”
“You’ve asked me that already and I’ve answered. Of course I would have told you—” she shrugged “―eventually.”
Finally he asked the question that had been plaguing him most. “How can I be sure?”
Shaking her head, she shrugged again. “You can’t. You’ll just have to trust me.”
A wry smile tugged the corner of his mouth. “Trust has never been easy for either of us.” But now that he was here and saw the truth, his decision was simple. “I want you and Eli to come with me, just for a few weeks while we make plans for the future.”
“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Ah, come on, Lucy Ann. Think about my request before you react.”
“Okay. Thinking...” She tapped her temple, tapping, tapping. Her hand fell to her lap. “Still no.”
God, her humor and spunk had lifted him out of hell so many times. He’d missed her since she’d stormed out of his life....
But he’d also missed out on a lot more in not knowing about his son.
“I can never regain those first two months of Eli’s life.” A bitter pill he wasn’t sure how to swallow down. “I need a chance to make up for that.”
She shook her head slowly. “You can’t be serious about taking a baby on the road.”
“I’m dead serious.” He wasn’t leaving here without them. He couldn’t just toss money down and go.
“Let me spell it out for you then. Elliot, this is the middle of your racing season.” She spoke slowly, as she’d done when they were kids and she’d tutored him in multiplication tables. “You’ll be traveling, working, running with a party crowd. I’ve seen it year after year, enough to know that’s no environment for a baby.”
And damn it, she was every bit as astute now as she’d been then. He lined up an argument, a way to bypass her concerns. “You saw my life when there wasn’t a baby around—no kids around, actually. It can be different. I can be different, like other guys who bring their families on the circuit with them.” He shifted to sit beside her. “I have a damn compelling reason to make changes in my life. This is the chance to show you that.”
Twisting the skirt of her dress in nervous fingers, she studied him with her golden-brown gaze for so long he thought he’d won.
Then resolve hardened her eyes again. “Expecting someone to change only sets us both up for disappointment.”
“Then you’ll get to say ‘I told you so.’ You told me often enough in the past.” He rested a hand on top of hers to still the nervous fidgeting, squeezing lightly. “The best that happens is I’m right and this works. We find a plan to be good parents to Eli even when we’re jet-setting around the world. Remember how much fun we used to have together? I miss you, Lucy Ann.”
He thumbed the inside of her wrist, measuring the speed of her pulse, the softness of her skin. He’d done everything he could to put her out of his mind, but with no luck. He’d been unfair to Gianna, leading her to think he was free. So many regrets. He was tired of them. “Lucy Ann...”
She yanked her hand free. “Stop it, Elliot. I’ve watched you seduce a lot of women over the years. Your games don’t work with me. So don’t even try the slick moves.”
“You wound me.” He clamped a hand over his heart in an attempt at melodrama to cover his disappointment.
She snorted. “Hardly. You don’t fool me with the pained look. It’s eleven months too late to be genuine.”
“You would be wrong about that.”
“No games.” She shot to her feet. “We both need time to regroup and think. We need to continue this conversation later.”
“Fair enough then.” He sat on the sofa, stretching both arms out along the back.
She stomped her foot. “What are you doing?”
He picked up the remote from the coffee table and leaned back again into the deepest, saggiest part. “Making myself comfortable.”
“For what?”
He thumbed on the television. “If I’m going to stick around until you’re ready to talk, I might as well scout the good stations. Any beer in the fridge? Although wait, it’s too early for that. How
