Chapter Sixteen

Dennis opened the door to a sound he hadn’t heard in his home in years, feminine laughter. The sound made his breath catch, made his chest heave with shallow gasps. When he and Katherine had been newlyweds, her belly round with new life, he’d expected this to be his everyday routine. To work, and then home to the sound of his child’s giggles, his wife’s laughter, his welcome.

But it wasn’t his wife laughing. His wife had left him, falling away from him even as he clutched the air and screamed her name. He’d failed her, and she was gone forever, and with her had gone the joy.

Oh, he and Cole managed to have a good time here and there. They could joke together and roughhouse and do all the father and son things. But this was different. This was a woman, a gentle, bright woman with an honest and fearless heart, giggling with his boy.

Audrey. He thought her name like a talisman and eyed the short distance down the hall to Cole’s bedroom door. Dennis heard a loud thud, followed by a fresh cascade of giggling. Their pleasure almost hurt, deep in that place that had been sealed up by the scars from Katherine’s death. Dennis didn’t know whether to weep or to join their play.

Soundlessly he crept forward, almost paralyzed with the powerful emotion, the desperate longing for what he’d made himself forget he’d ever wanted. A home. A wife’s warm, gentle love. Children to grow strong and noble and smart. He and Katherine might have built that together if only they’d been given the chance. Instead, he’d been left to build a shadow of their dreams alone. Without her, without anyone. Utterly alone. He had to be both father and mother to Cole, and no matter how hard he tried, he would always fail.

Dennis edged to side of the door. Each fresh giggle, each joyful thump, sliced away another bit of scar tissue. He felt himself growing vulnerable, remembering what it meant to want. And it terrified him, but he’d ripped the lid off the box and could never again replace it.

He made himself breathe. He leaned his forehead against the cool white wall and willed his chest to expand a little further with each new indrawn breath. It hurt. Ah, God, it hurt. He didn’t deserve joy. He didn’t deserve to have a woman if he couldn’t keep her safe and alive. This was the central lesson of his entire life, and wanting something different would never change it.

The sound of the game carried on with much thumping and giggling and the sounds of Cole shouting instructions. Dennis eavesdropped without hearing or understanding the words spoken between Cole and Audrey. They could have been using a foreign language, and it wouldn’t have mattered. Dennis still would have felt each word like a little firecracker, bit by bit popping and digging away at the wall around his heart.

He couldn’t have said how long he stood there with his forehead pressed against the white plaster. All he knew was, at some point, the tension began to ease. He lifted his head from the wall and was surprised to see that his hands had been fisted tightly enough to leave garish red nail marks in his palms. They looked like shrunken, bloody smiles.

Dennis drew a deep breath. Fool. He was beating himself up for nothing. There had been other women, nannies and nurses, laughing with Cole. Dennis had heard other women laugh since Katherine died. This had just caught him by surprise. That was all.

It was only Miss Turner. The teacher, the babysitter. Not the ghost of Katherine come to reproach him for all that Cole was missing in his life. All was well. Dennis had seen to it that Cole would want for nothing. All the things Katherine would’ve taught Cole, Dennis would ensure he learned. All the things she would’ve given their son, Dennis would give instead. It was the only real option.

Or so he told himself. As he squared his shoulders and entered Cole’s bedroom, for the first time, he felt a bit unsure of his established plan.

And when he saw what awaited him in Cole’s room, he knew himself for the liar he was.

Cole stood with his plump fists wrapped around a bit of clothesline, dressed in his favorite cowboy pajamas, a red felt cowboy hat, and for unclear reasons, a black pirate eye patch.

On the floor in front of Cole, Audrey knelt in pony position. The other end of Cole’s clothesline had been looped loosely around Miss Turner’s waist and shoulders. Strands of her hair had worked loose from her long braid, and the golden ends brushed against the dark carpet. Her round bottom was pointed directly at the door, the khaki twill straining slightly over her lush feminine hips. Dennis couldn’t take his eyes off those curves.

They didn’t see Dennis. Cole pointed at the floor, imperious.

“I said bow, pallerino,” Cole said.

“Palomino,” Audrey corrected with a giggle. Cole giggled with her. His little voice squeaked out words between chuckles.

“Pamarino. Pala–oh, never mind, just bow down, Miss Turner!”

Audrey obediently lowered her forearms until her elbows rested on the navy carpet. Her bottom looked as though it was being displayed to Dennis, elevated like that, pointed right at him. He felt his mouth go dry.

It was only Miss Turner, he told himself.

But he found himself whispering her name.

“Audrey.”

She lifted her elbows from the carpet at the sound of his voice. Still on hands and knees, she swiveled her head to look at him, her delicate features peeping out at him from around her hips. She blinked her round blue eyes at him in all apparent innocence.

If he’d been a man of lesser self-control, he would have dropped to his knees right then and there, peeled the twill down her thighs, and made himself acquainted with what looked like it was being offered to him. After he knew every inch of those round, tender curves, maybe, just maybe, he would roll her over before sinking deep into her body. Or maybe he would take her just like that, from behind as she knelt. He would make her buck against him. He would–he would –

But he wasn’t a rash man. So he stood there, his lips compressed with the desperate attempt to hold himself back. Every muscle in his torso ached from holding himself still, from reining in that fierce desire to cross the room and take her in his arms.

Better not think about that.

“Hi, Daddy.” Cole was giving him a funny look, as if he was worried about something.

“Hello, son.” His voice squeaked.

Audrey sat back on her heels. Dennis couldn’t look at her. He stared instead at Cole. His son. His innocent boy.

Whose eyebrows were drawn down in a fierce frown.

His uncontrollable feelings for Audrey had nothing to do with his son. Yes, she was good for the boy. She had a knack for dealing with Cole, unmatched by anyone, even by Dennis. But that wasn’t why his chest ached from the force of his heartbeat. Their home echoed with fresh joy when she was there. And as much as Cole benefited from that, Dennis had to admit the truth.

He wanted her for himself. Not for Cole. Not for convenience while Nanny Susie was traipsing through Greece. And most definitely not for the prestige of having Chicago’s premier preschool administrator leading Cole through his summer paces.

He’d hired her because he didn’t want any disruption in his home. But these feelings, these passionate longings, were a bigger disruption than he’d ever anticipated.

“Sorry I’m late,” Dennis said, even though he was not. “I’m sure you want to be on your way.”

The smile fell from Audrey’s lovely face. She rose from the floor and flipped her long braid over her shoulders.

“See you tomorrow, cowboy.” She tapped the brim of Cole’s red hat.  She slipped past Dennis and through the bedroom door, into the hall, without looking at him.

Audrey, he wanted to say. Don’t go.

But he watched, silent, as she picked up her tote bag.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” She did not break her stride for the front door, but tossed a glance over her shoulder. “Your new chair came today.”

The door thumped as she closed it firmly behind her. Dennis, hands draped over his fists, turned to face his office. There, in the precise center of the triangle formed by the office, kitchen, and bedroom doors, was a huge cardboard box. He didn’t know how he could have missed seeing it earlier.

“Daddy?” Cole wrapped his hands around Dennis’s wrists and stared up at Dennis. “Why are you mad at Miss Turner?”

“I’m not mad at her.”

“But you made her leave right in the middle of our game. And you did that thing with your face.”

“That thing with my face? What thing with my face?”

Cole stepped back, released Dennis’s wrist, and removed the red cowboy hat and black eye patch. “Like this.” He stuck his jaw forward and lowered his eyebrows, his little bowed lips compressed in a thin white line.

Dennis rubbed a hand over his jaw, and sure enough, his teeth were clenched tight enough to grind diamonds. “Oh. That face.”

“Was Miss Turner bad?”

“No. Not bad at all. It was just time for her to go home.” And time for me to get a handle on all these unanticipated emotions she brings out in me.