The Daddy Verdict Page 5
Camille stepped in front of him. “She’s cleaning up. Give her a minute.”
Ben peered around Camille and saw Sierra at the sink, water dripping from her face, a drop or two falling on her beautiful gown.
She groaned. “I don’t want anyone to see me like this.” After she glanced at Ben in the mirror, she must have realized her wish to be alone wouldn’t keep him out. She sighed and explained, “I shouldn’t have eaten the crème brûlée.” She produced a weak smile, took a paper towel and dabbed at the droplets on her face. Then she looked down at her gown. “I’ve made a mess.”
She looked like a little kid who’d dropped ice cream on her shoe, and he was ready to take a few steps toward her when Sierra’s face suddenly turned a little greener and she made a beeline for the bathroom cubicle again.
Camille whispered to him, “Don’t embarrass her. Let me handle this.”
He didn’t want to let Camille handle this. No one else handled his responsibilities but him. But then he thought about Sierra, her pale face, her weak smile, the way she’d left his room because everything had become too intense.
He always knew what to do, and he hated the fact he was teetering on the brink of indecision now. “Five minutes,” he agreed. “I’ll wait outside for five minutes. But if you’re not out, I’m coming in. I’m taking her to a doctor if I have to.”
“She doesn’t need a doctor,” Camille assured him with a shake of her head. “She just needs some soda and a few crackers. Men. If they had to have babies—”
“Okay, I won’t stay for the lecture.” With a last look at the bathroom stall, he closed the door to the ladies’ room to wait.
The five minutes were almost up when both Sierra and Camille stepped outside the door. Sierra was holding her purse, twisting the silver chain. “I’m fine.”
She did not look fine. He remembered her high color that day in his office, as well as upstairs in the bedroom. She was unnaturally pale and looked a little shaky.
“I’m taking you back to the hacienda.”
Sierra turned to Camille. “I don’t want to leave the reception.”
“I’m just going to throw the bouquet and then we’re off, too,” she said. Gently taking Sierra by the elbow, she guided her to a chair at the periphery of the room. “Do you need to sit for a few minutes?”
When Sierra shook her head, Ben had the illogical, irrational desire to sweep her up into his arms and carry her to the car. How crazy was that?
“I’ll tell Mrs. Padilla and my mom that you went back to the hacienda,” Camille said. “Elena’s there. She left a little while ago. She’ll let you in.”
Elena was the Padillas’ housekeeper who also kept the home fires burning. She was Val’s age and in lots of ways reminded Ben of Nathan’s housekeeper. They both cared deeply about the families they took care of.
Five minutes later as Ben and Sierra left the inn, Ben took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders again to keep her warm in the cool night air. After he went to retrieve his SUV and pulled up in front, the doorman helped Sierra inside.
She settled in, fastened her seat belt and laid her head back against the headrest. “I’m sorry this happened. I should have known better.”
“Does this happen often?”
“No, just when I eat something too rich—cheesecake, crème brûlée. I guess I’ll be eating healthy throughout my pregnancy.”
“Are you sure it’s normal?”
“Normal is a relative term with pregnancy. Some women crave peanut butter and pickles and feel fine when they eat them. Some women crave tuna fish and can’t keep it down. Some women feel sick the first three months and some not at all. There’s no right or wrong, rhyme nor reason.”
“My brother’s wife has been craving banana and mayonnaise sandwiches her whole pregnancy.”
Sierra groaned. “Oh, please.”
He laughed. “Sorry.”
The drive to the hacienda only took about ten minutes. After Elena let them in, Sierra headed upstairs while Ben went to the kitchen with the housekeeper, remembering what Camille had said. He filled a glass with ice, added soda and asked Elena for crackers. Then he took the whole package along with the soda up to Sierra’s room and knocked.
“Just a minute,” she called.
When she opened the door, she was barefoot with a cream silk robe wrapped around her. He couldn’t tell for sure, but he thought he could make out the outline of her bra and panties underneath.
“I’m…I’m not dressed for visitors,” she said lightly. Her face had regained some of its color.
“I’m not a visitor. I think we’re past that. I brought you soda and crackers. Camille thought that might help.”
Breaking eye contact, he took the snack over to the nightstand and set it down. “Why don’t you slip under the covers?” he suggested. “You might feel more comfortable that way.”
“You’re staying?” Her voice was surprised and a little thin.
“I just want to make sure you’re really okay.”
“And how long do you think it will take for you to find out?” she asked cheekily.
“I guess I’ll be able to tell if you drink some soda and eat some crackers and don’t go all pale and sick again.”
She still didn’t get into bed. “I’ve never had a keeper, Ben. I don’t really want one now.”
He realized she’d been on her own most of her childhood and supposed she’d gotten used to going where she wanted to go and doing what she wanted to do. “If you don’t want a keeper, why do you still live with your aunt?”
“You’re really not going to leave?” she asked with a sigh.
“Really not.”
He stepped away from the nightstand so she could pull back the covers and crawl in. She left on her robe, but he got a glimpse of thigh and leg that made his groin tighten.
“Don’t loom,” she warned him.
Hiding a smile, he lowered himself to the bed next to her hip, then realized exactly how intimate their positions were. They were in her bedroom. She was barely dressed, and he was very close. Close enough that he could smell a minty scent. He suspected the first thing she’d done when she reached her room was brush her teeth.
Now she took one of the crackers and nibbled on it. He kept silent until she’d finished because she still hadn’t answered his question.
“Your aunt?” he asked again.
“I live with my aunt because I feel connected to her. I’m her only family except for my parents and she’s mine. She invested in my shop to get me started and I’ll always be grateful for that. I paid her back last year,” Sierra added proudly. “I talked about moving out, even looked at apartments, but she always has a reason for me to stay. The last time I was ready to put down a security deposit she said she was taking this trip. If I were at her house, she wouldn’t have to worry about someone checking on it every day. It made sense.” Sierra took a few sips of soda, then set down her glass.
“Family does have a grounding quality. I can understand why you’re so close to your aunt…how she’s looked out for you through the years. My brothers and I do that for each other. Nathan called before the wedding. He was checking with me to see if I wanted him and Sara and Kyle to fly in for Thanksgiving.”
Sierra’s beautiful blue eyes widened. “Do you?”
“Yes, I do. I have too much work to fly to Minnesota for the holiday, so this plan is a good one. Maybe you can meet them.”
She looked worried. “Do they know?”
“I told Nathan. He’ll tell the others. I’m sure I’ll be hearing from my brother Sam and my father.”
She looked thoughtfully at him. “Was your dad a good role model?”
“The best. Maybe not right after my mother left. He was bitter, distracted, and he seemed to be living in another universe some days. But I had Sam and Nathan and eventually he snapped out of it. He built a cabin up north and we went there to fish and cross-country ski and hike. We became a different
family up there.”
“Different?”
“Yeah, no mom. But we figured out we didn’t need one. We were good together. After we started spending time there, Dad was with us. Know what I mean? Always there. We knew we could count on him and one another.”
“It was terrible losing your mom, but the rest sounds really great. I worry that—”
It was obvious that Sierra was in turmoil about something and he wanted to know what it was. He inched a little closer to her hip and leaned nearer to her. “What do you worry about?”
After biting her lower lip, she blurted out, “I’m afraid I won’t have motherly instincts. I’m afraid I’ll be like my own mother. That sounds terrible. It’s just—You said your dad was there. My mom wasn’t. My mom and dad were this unit that I couldn’t break into. So I guess bonding with a child doesn’t always come naturally and I’m afraid. What if I don’t bond?”
Ben wasn’t the least bit worried about Sierra’s mothering skills. “I saw you with Camille’s niece this afternoon, remember? You reacted like a mother would. You didn’t make her feel bad about running into you, but you told her what she needed to hear.”
“You were watching that closely?”
“I have a vested interest.”
Sierra’s eyes were so shiny and big and full of vulnerability, and her face had regained its color. He only leaned forward to give her a little reassurance. He only leaned forward to place a light kiss on her lips. But that light kiss became need.
Her lips clung to his and her hands came up to grasp his shoulders. Realizing the need wasn’t just one-sided—she seemed to need him, too—he let his desire command the kiss. They’d kissed before, but this was a conscious kiss, a kiss filled with everything that could still happen between them.
Did he want anything to happen? He hadn’t fully absorbed the idea of fatherhood yet. He still hadn’t decided whether or not Sierra was playing him, whether she was what she seemed, whether she might include him freely in her life and their child’s or cut him out. He didn’t know any of it and he’d better be damn careful until he did.
Cutting off the kiss, he stood. He was getting out of this room and away from her so he could think clearly.
But before either of them could utter a word, Ben’s phone beeped. He’d turned it off during the wedding, but switched it back on during the reception.
When his gaze met Sierra’s, her color was high, her lips swollen with a just-kissed look that tempted him to kiss her all over again. Instead, he checked his caller ID. “I have to get this,” he said tersely.
She just nodded, maybe even looked a bit relieved.
“Barclay,” he said when he answered.
“Ben, it’s Vince.”
Vince Rossi was a detective with the Albuquerque police force. He and Ben had worked closely on a few cases.
“What’s up?”
“You had a prowler.”
“What do you mean, I had a prowler?”
“At your house. Your neighbor called it in. She got a good look. Apparently the guy ducked under the streetlight before he ran behind the fence. He was about five eight, dark hair, long nose, pointed chin, sideburns. Any ideas?”
“Long hair and sideburns? I can’t be sure, but it sounds like Charlie Levsin’s brother, Al. He—” Ben hesitated because he knew Sierra was listening. “He and I had a conversation in a mall parking lot Friday night.”
“He jumped you?”
“Nothing physical.”
“He warned you off the case?”
“Something like that.”
“And you didn’t tell anyone?”
“What was there to say?”
Vince blew out a breath. “Do you want me to check the house?”
“In the back of the house, there’s a key on a magnet on the underside of the grill.”
“You’re a D.A. Do you think that’s inventive?”
“I thought it was obvious enough so no one would look.”
“Right,” Vince drawled sarcastically. “I’ll check around, get back to you if I see anything that shouldn’t be there, or looks like it’s been moved. When are you coming home?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Give me a call after you get in. Let me know if you see anything I didn’t.”
“Thanks, Vince.”
“No problem.”
When Ben clicked off and closed his phone, Sierra was studying him. “You had a break-in?”
He wasn’t going to lie to her, but he didn’t want to make it more than it was, either. “No, the neighbor just thought she saw a prowler.”
“Thought she saw? It sounded like she had a description.”
“What did you do, take notes while I was talking?”
She waved away his sarcasm. “If you know who it might be, then something’s going on. What?”
“It’s just business as usual, Sierra. I’m involved in a case. Some people would like me to lose it.”
“Some people would break into your home while you’re not there? Or some people wished you might have been there?” She looked shocked and upset at what she’d deduced.
He’d intended to get out of her room fast, but now he couldn’t. He could see that. He took a step toward her, but only a step. “This is my job, Sierra. I put bad guys away. They don’t go by the same rules normal people do.”
“Don’t patronize me, Ben. I guess I never realized an A.D.A.’s job could be dangerous, as well as life consuming.” She closed her eyes and murmured, “I never wanted to get involved with someone in a dangerous job, in a job that meant more than…than everything else.”
“Being parents together doesn’t mean we have to be involved.”
Her eyes blinked open and she stared at him with what looked like hurt.
Damn, he hadn’t meant to do that, but they weren’t involved. And maybe they shouldn’t be.
With a sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck and crossed to the door. He gestured to the nightstand. “Don’t forget about the soda and crackers.” She might be the mother of his child so he had to care about her well-being, didn’t he? “And if you don’t feel well during the night, or you need anything, call me. Do you still have my number?”
“I do. But I won’t need anything, Ben. I can take care of myself and my baby without your help.”
There really wasn’t anything else to say. They’d both come away from the kiss rattled, and the phone call hadn’t helped.
After he opened the door, he said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”
She nodded. “In the morning.”
As Ben left Sierra’s room, he felt as if something had gone terribly wrong. It hadn’t been the kiss or even what he’d said about not being involved. It had been the phone call.
His work was going to be an obstacle just as it had been to other relationships. But he had to do his job. His work was the most important thing in his life right now.
Except for being a dad, the voice of his conscience reminded him.
Except for being a dad.
The return drive from Santa Fe to Albuquerque the following morning was silent. Sierra glanced over at Ben as he parked in front of her aunt’s house and opened his car door.
“You don’t have to come in.”
“You were gone overnight. I’ll just make sure everything’s the way it should be, then I’ll leave.”
He’d seemed removed through breakfast this morning. But she hadn’t said anything and told herself not to press him…told herself she was not falling for Ben Barclay.
Once they walked through the wrought-iron gate in the house’s protective adobe wall, Sierra unlocked the door, slipped inside and deactivated the alarm. She forced a smile. “See, everything’s good.”
“Sierra, about last night—”
She kept up the airy facade. “Thanks for bringing me the soda and crackers. I guess Miguel and Camille are on a plane right now on their way to Aruba. I hope the weather’s good—”
Ben came even
closer. “I know the phone call rattled you.”
Obviously he wasn’t going to leave until he discussed what he wanted to discuss. “Didn’t it rattle you?” she returned.
“No. All of it’s just part of my job,” he said again.
“How can you be so matter-of-fact about someone prowling around your house?”
“Because I have to put it out of my head, think about the strategies for the trial and nothing else.”
“Is that what you were doing this morning?”
“This morning?”
“Yes. You hardly said two words at breakfast. Miguel’s mother was trying to have a conversation with you and it just didn’t happen. In the car you were silent for the whole drive. Either you didn’t want me there beside you, or you had something major on your mind. Since we’re not personally involved, it can’t have anything to do with us, but I thought it might have something to do with the baby.”
Ben ran his hand through his hair. “Sierra—” He blew out a breath. “I’m not used to having to explain myself to anyone. My life isn’t amenable to relationships. I’ve always been a loner.”
“You said you were close to your brothers.”
“I am, but I’ve always needed my own time, my own space. My family may ask questions, but when I don’t answer them, they accept that. But I have a feeling that you won’t. I can’t tell you everything I was thinking.”
“Because it has to do with the trial?” she guessed.
“Yes.”
“And the rest?” Obviously Ben wasn’t used to sharing his thoughts, and she hoped that would change.
“Let’s face it. You’ve had a little more time to absorb the parent thing than I have. We’ve got a lot of decisions to make.”
“Such as?”
“Whether or not we’ll share joint custody.”
She was startled and suddenly stricken. Maybe she’d been naive, but she’d never believed her having full custody would be an issue, especially taking Ben’s job into consideration. She really didn’t know Ben. He was a lawyer. Would he want more than joint custody? He couldn’t take her baby from her, could he? What if he had connections that could assure whatever decree he wanted?