Chapter Five
The next day started with rowdy laughs and screams, and Hartford grimaced as she heard curses sounding from the toy room, as she’d named it. Trent was digging into his eggs, and she quickly took his spoon away, feeding him herself to hurry up the process. She had to get Trent away from the curses in this house! It seemed like the buffoons in Gerard’s toy room hadn’t left last night at all.
“Hurry up, sweetheart,” she said, not wanting to rush him but left with no choice. This bachelor pad was no place for a three-year-old to stay. She could just picture Trent cursing all his way back to Maryland.
Anger detonated inside her, long forgotten that it could be directed toward Gerard. She’d felt a lot of things toward him during the last four years when she cared for his son and hers all by herself. She’d missed his presence, and she’d been disappointed by how wrong she’d been about him. But she’d never been this furious.
Mrs. Berry took Trent away to play in the back of the house. “Away from the pool, please,” Hartford had insisted.
She’d also meant “away from the curses in your employer’s house,” but it wasn’t Mrs. Berry’s fault Gerard was being an ass.
She recalled another group of buffoons that had followed Gerard around freshman year of college. They drank too much, they partied too much, and they had no sense of propriety, and Gerard always spent on those buffoons like his life depended on it. It wasn’t that Gerard was stupid—far from it. He was a smart, intelligent man with an astute sense of propriety; he was simply exceptionally generous. Besides, she’d gotten the feeling that Gerard was used to using his group of committed followers as a distraction from the stresses of his competitive, fast-paced life.
She strode across the dining area to the expansive toy room, decked out with the latest of gadgets and games and what not. The interior was slate gray, and the high windows would filter light into the room, except the blinds were always pulled down. Hartford spotted Gerard lying on the couch, seemingly disinterested and tired, while the other men cheered on the pair of buffoons who were playing a video game. Hartford cleared her throat.
No response. The music was too loud. She only wanted to get Gerard’s attention, but at this point, she was so angry at the way Gerard was acting that she was fine with creating a scene that would make the buffoons think twice before coming to see Gerard again.
It’s his house, for Christ’s sake. He can do whatever the hell he wants.
I don’t care, she answered back to her own mind’s voice.
“Gerard?”
Gerard glance at her from his vantage point. Wearing black lounging trousers and a gray T-shirt, he still managed to look powerful and authoritative.
Hartford drew in a shaky breath. “When do you think you’ll be available for the work I came here to do?”
Two of the buffoons glanced toward her but didn’t show any interest in her presence. Their yelling continued to be juvenile, and loud, and annoying. She lost it.
“Excuse me?” Hartford said, louder, and four of the guys turned. “You too,” she said to the only one who hadn’t bothered to look at her. When he did, she sighed. “Yes, you.” She smiled politely. “Can you keep the noise down for a bit? The adults are trying to talk.”
Silence. A hush fell over the room. The only sound in the spacious toy room was the music of the video game. They gaped at her standing in the doorway, her arms crossed, knowing that she looked absolutely livid. Then, almost comically, they turned in unison to look at Gerard.
One look at Gerard and she wanted to laugh out loud. He looked like he was unsure whether she was real or an apparition.
He sat up slowly. “What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to talk to you.”
“Can’t we do that in private?”
Hartford grimaced. “I don’t know. Could we? Because it seems to me that you’re avoiding me. And that’s a waste of my talent and education because I came here to tend to you, not sit around and hear the cursing fest that goes on this house.”
Gerard’s jaw clenched. He looked a little foggy, either because he’d been up most of the night, or because his knee was acting up. He avoided his friends’ eyes and strode toward Hartford. She drew in a deep breath when it seemed like he’d slam straight into her on his way out, but he tilted his body at the last moment as he passed her.
“Come here,” he hissed.
Hartford was not scared of him. He did not intimidate her. He was nothing to her, absolutely nothing. But when he faced her and crossed his arms, she felt her knees turning to jelly.
“What are you trying to accomplish?” he bit out through clenched teeth.
“I’m trying to work. That’s what I came here to do.”
“Well, I’m doing fine. Isn’t it your job to help assist me in recovering quicker? I’m resting. I’m off my feet. What else do you want me to do?”
“I want these buffoons to leave.” Even though she knew she sounded like a pissed-off girlfriend, she defended herself by citing his irresponsibility as reason for her outburst. Belatedly, the reality of the situation hit her in the gut. She knew what this was about. “Are you trying to use that gang of idiots to avoid spending time with me?”
He scoffed but didn’t say anything and swallowed as the pause gave away his feelings. That’s exactly what he was doing.
“Would you prefer if I spent time with you instead?” he said with distaste, as if that was preposterous.
Hartford’s heart slammed against her ribs. “That is not what I meant.”
His jaws hardened. “In that case, I can do whatever I want in my house, you know?”
“Well, I’m sure you can, but do you suggest I go back to where I came from? Because that’s the only option I see right now. Besides, the way things are going, my son will be a cursing pro by the time he goes back to Maryland.”
Gerard’s face fell, and he rubbed his forehead with his hand. That clearly hadn’t crossed his mind. He wasn’t used to having a child around. How was he supposed to know?
“I’ll ask them to keep it down.”
Hartford’s head tilted back as she held his gaze, refusing to back down. Now that they were talking, it felt good, even if it was an argument and extremely counterproductive to the patient-doctor relationship they were expected to establish. She had to last the entire summer here. She tried to swallow her temper and stopped herself from saying more. He’d accepted defeat, but having him standing so close felt like a dream. It was surreal, and she wanted to prolong the moment.
“What about your checkups and physio sessions? How long are you planning to avoid those for?”
“I’m doing fine.”
“Are you? I wouldn’t know, and I’ll make sure to write that down that in the report. Plus, your utter lack of exercise.”
Gerard grated his teeth subtly. She’d hit a sore spot. He obviously couldn’t afford to let her do that.
“How often do you want me?”
Hartford’s cheeks flamed as she interpreted it completely wrong—and dirty. That’s not what he means.
“I mean, of course…” he said slowly, as he watched the scarlet on her cheeks. “How often do you want the physio sessions?”
“I’ll write down a schedule and hand it to you. But once a day for today, and twice a day for the remaining days of the week. And we’ll go from there.”
“Fine.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Would that be all? Now can I do what I want to do in my own fucking house?”
Hartford crossed her arms too, letting him know he didn’t intimidate her, and just watched him without answering for a while. Exasperated, he shook his head and turned to walk away.
“I know what you’re doing with them,” she called.
Gerard was taken aback by the softness in her voice. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re trying to avoid seeing Trent, and you’re avoiding me. I’ll make sure to keep Trent out of your sight if he’s such an eyesore, and as for me, you’re stuck with that. You shouldn’t have agreed to let me to come here if you hated me so much.”
She didn’t bother to look at him before striding out of the room.
***
Gerard was about to say something, anything, but the words didn’t leave his lips. Hartford walked out of the room, and he stood there, hearing his friends’ hushed voices from the room behind him. Did he hate Hartford? Far from it. He didn’t want to go there, because he was afraid he was still madly, crazily…
No. He shook his head to clear it. He’d come a long way from what he’d been four years ago. He couldn’t deny that he thought about her every day—about the way she dumped him, for the most part—and how he’d misjudged her feelings for him, but he was still in awe of her.
But how dare she order him about in his own damned house. After everything she’d done and he’d forgiven, she had the gall to dictate what went down in his house and embarrass his friends?
Suddenly, his massive house was too small, too tight, and he couldn’t breathe without seeing a glimpse of Hartford’s stunning, curvaceous, ripe body, or the boy’s face that looked exactly like his; it was suffocating him. Then something else hit him.
Getting a full-time physio to help him recover wasn’t his own choice. His sponsors had mandated it. And he was stuck. He had to give Hartford the due time or the report would end up back to his sponsors.
As for Trent… An eyesore, Hartford had said. That offended him, personally, for the child was his too—even if only biologically. He clenched his eyes shut and spent long minutes standing there, his hands on his waist and his head hung low, as he forced himself to come to terms with the shock of seeing the kid. Trent was his child. His mind chose that moment to remember the night his life had changed, the night he’d been drafted by the Seahawks. The night he’d made love to his girlfriend, told her he loved her, and emptied his load inside her body. That’s how Trent came into being. That night, that moment, had changed the course of both his and Hartford’s lives in more ways than one…
Later, Hartford spent the afternoon seated on the rug on the living-room floor, her fingers on Gerard’s calf, his knee, his thigh. Luckily, he didn’t drop his pants that morning. He’d already been wearing a pair of shorts that she’d tucked up to the top of his thigh. She’d set her face in a classic resting-bitch expression to avoid revealing how she really felt about the moment.
He hadn’t expected it to be so intimate. Trent was in the back of the house with Mrs. Berry, his friends had gone home, and the house was eerily silent. As Hartford worked on his leg, his eyes refused to pull away from her face.
She drew back and looked up at him. “Done.”
Gerard clenched his jaw as his navel tautened with desire. He was trying not to be so perverted about it, and the truth was, if the physio had been anyone but Hartford, he wouldn’t have even cared he was being touched. But he was strung up tight. Her fingers were both familiar and a completely novel sensation on his skin. Her touch was skilled and magical as she massaged his leg. She didn’t once look up at him, and to make matters worse, the neckline of her button-down white blouse was dipping lower. Her dark, gleaming breasts swelled in round globes above the neckline. His gaze kept dropping to her breasts of their own accord, but he forced himself to drag it away from the sight. After a while, he simply stopped trying to not look at her breasts.
Gerard saw her expression falter when she saw his face. He was breathing hard, his manhood engorged, his balls aching, yet thankfully concealed in the baggy shorts he’d purposely worn because he’d expected things to end up like this. After a moment, she slid backward, while Gerard tautened his shoulders, urging himself not to reach for her, not to touch her, not to plunge his hand down the front of her blouse and gather her swelling breasts in his rough palms. His throat dry, he attempted to nod. Hartford’s eyelids fluttered and she lowered her gaze, then stood up, closed her bag of medical supplies, and strode off.
Gerard rested his elbows on his knees, tilting his head sideways as he watched her full, too-round hips hugged snugly by the denim capris that accentuated her toned legs. His lips were parched, and he couldn’t look away, and when she disappeared toward the back of the house, he sighed and cursed under his breath. He was going to die, surely, staying strung up and aroused on end.
It had been merely four days and he’d already barely managed to keep his lust in check. It imploded out of nowhere, incontrollable and fiery and satanic. How was he supposed to forget the way she felt in his arms when her breasts and ass and mouth were on display. The last time he’d seen her, he was in love with her. It seemed as if the entire portion of the transition, where they would’ve fought and resented each other and then broken up, was missing. It should’ve happened as a natural order of things. He was struggling to force himself to remember that he despised Hartford. He didn’t.
Accepting that his boner wasn’t going away anytime soon, he made his way to his temporary bedroom on the ground floor and found his swimming trunks, pulling them on over his still-engorged boner. He strode furiously to the pool, his leg throbbing and light from the massage. His head pounded with lust and confusion, and he threw himself into the water angrily. Then he swam, frantically, trying to cool his body down. It worked.
After long minutes, he let himself float, soaking up the sun.
***
Hartford watched him from the window on the first floor. Her room and Trent’s looked out onto a wide balcony, and the window provided a full view of the back lawns and the swimming pool. But her eyes weren’t appreciating the beauty of his home and the acres of land that was tended to by an army of gardeners every day; they were glued to the man who’d once promised to stand by her forever.
Hartford recalled how good it had felt to slide her fingers across his unusually taut muscles. During the session, she’d tried to be professional and concentrate on his leg as work and not as a sexual object. She’d been distracted by flashes of the past, when she’d been touching him and he’d been touching her back. His hands had always been too rough and too strong, and she’d winced and whined when he took her. He was dominating in bed and out of it. Without even trying, he had a way of leading her.
And that had always heightened her pleasure. It made her feel vulnerable and small, and she liked being that sometimes. It was a break from the independent, strong woman she’d always been expected to be. Most of the time, she’d enjoyed being that. But it got exhausting, and the last break she had from it was when she’d been in bed with Gerard.
Her eyes cascaded over his toned torso as he swam. He was built more heavily now. The last four years had been good on him. His tanned body gleamed in all the right places, accentuating his muscled physique. Her heart was still racing in aftermath of touching his leg. Her hands smelled of him, and she clutched her throat with it in perverted indulgence.
Realizing that what she was doing was completely unacceptable, she yanked her thoughts away forcefully. It had only been four days, and she was already rethinking all that she believed about herself.
She wasn’t this crazy, sex-starved weakling. She didn’t lust after any man. She had dated several men since she left Gerard behind, and when she finally forced herself to sleep with one of them, it had been a disaster. She’d hated every minute of foreplay, been disgusted by things that should’ve been arousing, and had ended up leaving before anything really happened. At the time, she’d believed that she simply wasn’t ready to sleep with anyone just yet, but it had been four years. Surely that was enough time to recover from one man and crave sex. Yet, one look at Gerard and he had her pulse racing.
“Mommy, look at this.”
She turned around abruptly to find Trent playing with his little cars. Kneeling on the ground, she spent the next twenty minutes playing with her son. But she didn’t forget about the half-naked man just on the other side of the window. He was the reason Trent existed, and even though she despised herself for feeling this way, she wanted Gerard badly. She also knew she would never indulge. These two months in Seattle were going to be harder than she had anticipated.
When she finally peeked out the window again, she told herself it was her job to observe all his physical activities. After all, it was her job to have his knee as good as new by the end of the summer. But her heart sank when it appeared Gerard was no longer in sight. Pulling away from the window almost reluctantly, she retrieved her laptop from her bedroom and checked on Trent.
Part of her summer duties also comprised of some online collaborations with other physio therapists, who were now taking over her patients back in Baltimore. Too much work was piling up. She took her laptop to the dining room, hearing the group of buffoons in the living room again.
She went to work, on the phone and on the laptop, getting up frequently to check on Trent. He was watching a movie, and Hartford felt a pang of regret for assuming this summer in Seattle was a good idea. No doubt she had managed to spend quite a lot of time with Trent during the last four days, but she also had to work, and she couldn’t count on the housekeeper to watch Trent all the time. That wasn’t Mrs. Berry’s job. Yet, she was polite enough to reassure Hartford that she didn’t mind.
Hartford knew that being with Gerard’s parents in Maryland would’ve been far better for Trent at this rate. At least he constantly had family around.
Family—strange word to describe Trent’s paternal grandparents, when Trent’s own father refused to acknowledge hm. She didn’t really want him to, but it was dreadful, knowing that Gerard simply did not care.
***
The next morning, she awoke early to get some of her office work done before Trent got up. Lucky for her, Trent decided to wake up even earlier than usual, foiling her plans. She ended up spending the morning playing with him.
After two hours of fun and games, though, she was wiped out. And it was only eight in the morning. Her frustration continued to grow as the clock seemed to speed up. When it was time for Gerard’s physio session, she was exhausted.
“How’s the pain on a scale of one to ten?” she asked without looking up at him.
“Five.”
Her eyes shot up. “When did you feel it get worse?”
“I was in the shower and I almost slipped.” Hartford watched him, her mind choosing that moment to conjure up an image of the high-jet showers in his house hitting his tanned body. She looked away instantly. “Now I can’t really keep an eye on you in the shower.”
“Of course not,” he mumbled.
Hartford bit her tongue. What was she doing? She was sleep deprived and foggy. “I see that you swim in the afternoons.”
“Not every afternoon. I’ve recently just started to enjoy it more. It’s therapeutic.”
Hartford thought she heard a hint of amusement in his voice. “Therapeutic how?”
He looked away guiltily. “Just… therapeutic.”
Her brows furrowed. She didn’t understand this man. “Make sure you don’t exert yourself too much, but exercise is important.”
“Where’s Trent?”
Hartford froze, her fingers going still on his leg at the sudden unexpected query. “He’s in the back room.”
“Why doesn’t he play here, in the living room?”
Hartford’s throat was dry. Of all the things she’d expected him to talk about, Trent didn’t make the list. “Umm, there are several reasons.”
“Such as?”
“Such as…” She sighed, avoiding his gaze because she didn’t trust herself to meet his eye and give away her feelings while she had her hands on his naked muscled leg. “That group of buffoons that entertain you swears too much,” she said tactlessly.
Gerard chuckled, and her heart fluttered wildly at the sound. She fought back a grin.
“Secondly, I have to catch up with work, back at the hospital. I need some private time here to deal with that.”
“Oh, I have a study on the first floor you could use.”
When she looked up at him, sure his cordiality was a joke, his expression changed.
“I can’t use it.”
“You can. You can use anything I have here.”
Hartford shook her head. “I have to watch Trent. It’s not your housekeeper’s job.”
“It’s her job to make you comfortable. From now on, it’s her job to watch Trent when you work.”
Hartford squirmed away from the vehemence of his tone. As if he cared. She’d been fooled once. “We’ll see.”
“What’s the third reason?”
She sat back and released his leg, too exhausted to continue. “Why do you think there’s a third reason?”
“Just instinct.”
“It’s just that the pool is too close from here. And it’s not safe from him to go back there. He’s only little.”
Gerard spun around to regard the wide doors leading out to the massive pool. “You’re right. I wonder why I didn’t think of that.”
“You’re not a parent. I don’t blame you.”
Gerard froze, and her heart hammered as her eyes shot to his. She didn’t mean it that way. She was glad when he seemed to recover instantly and looked down at his leg.
He felt like he’d achieved something great. She was wearing a green sleeveless top with a modest neckline, but it was loose fitting and her breasts swayed lightly when she shifted to massage his knee.
But he couldn’t help but feel mortified by the word parent. Of course he wasn’t a parent. He couldn’t be. He wasn’t capable of being one. He didn’t identify as one.
“Do we have another session tonight?”
Hartford was glad for the escape and swiftly collected her supplies. “I don’t think I’ll be able to do another one tonight.” She stiffened when he grabbed her wrist as she stood up.
“Why?”
Hartford spun around slowly, eyeing his large hand on her wrist. “I feel a little under the weather today.”
Gerard let go of her hand and nodded briefly. “Sure. Don’t worry about it.”
***
Once again, Hartford watched him from the window as he swam. It had become routine for him, a swim after every physio session. She ogled the gracefulness of his body, and how the water gleamed on his skin, and how his shoulders bulged when he clasped the edge to pull himself up as exercise. His biceps bulged and his shoulders were pumped, and she drew in a harsh breath, belatedly realizing she’d been holding it as she stared at him.
That same chest had shifted and moved above her body. Those same hips had been underneath the heels of her feet as he pumped his body inside hers. She recalled his shaft that had been too wide and too long, and it had filled her deep. It hurt every time, agonized her, made her shiver in delight.
The night she’d conceived Trent, the sex had been sensual and slow and unhurried. Gerard had licked the crevice between her legs, held her gaze, twined his fingers through hers, and clutched them tighter when she came in his mouth.
She recalled how his hands had looked on her body.
Gerard’s body floated on the water, and she bit her lip, telling herself it didn’t matter that she was being an utter Gerard-junkie as long as Gerard never found out. This was becoming her favorite part of the day. His abs were tight, hard squares that led to the waistband of his swimming trunks. They hung low, revealing thick sparse hair that led to a place she’d known all too well. Once upon a time, everything she was now secretly ogling had been hers. She’d taken pride in calling it her own—taken it for granted too. But she’d believed with all her heart that he was going nowhere, and then everything had fallen apart. She’d lost her naiveté. She’d gotten to know him better.
She pushed away from the window and took Trent to the west wing for a nap. Before she knew it, she’d fallen asleep with him.
***
Mrs. Berry handed her a coffee, completely surprising Hartford. “Oh, thanks. That’s so sweet of you. I never nap, and I feel completely wiped out instead of feeling any better.”
“You take some time to yourself and work if you’d like. I’ll take Trent out to the lawns to play.”
Hartford winced guiltily. “You don’t have to do that. I’m sure you have something else to do.”
“No.” She smiled widely. “One of the other part-time housekeepers has come in full-time, and I’ve been assigned to care for Trent.”
Hartford was still reeling from that piece of information. She gaped at the kindly housekeeper’s back as she picked up a bat and two balls and led Trent outside the house. Hartford didn’t know if she appreciated Gerard’s considerate move or despised it. She didn’t want to be indebted to him. She didn’t want anything from him that would benefit her in any way. It was almost as if he were crossing a boundary.
But he’s only trying to help. She didn’t want his help. Even the too-generous child support check he sent every month was deposited in a bank account for Trent’s future. She didn’t use a penny. It was all Trent’s to use when he went to college.
Feeling like a witch, she sipped her coffee in silence, though she did admit she felt a lot better. Afterward, she abruptly grabbed her laptop and made her way upstairs. She found the study Gerard had asked her to use and dug into her work.
It was seven p.m. by the time she looked up again. “Shit.” It had been four hours since she’d started working. It was time for Trent to go to bed. She slammed her laptop shut, then hesitated as she went to pick it up. She could just come here to work. She hated the fact that Gerard had cared enough to hire another housekeeper only so Trent could have someone to take care of him, but she didn’t want to be ungrateful.
The fact remained, she was used to working. And she couldn’t survive without it. She left her laptop right where it was, intending to use the study again. It was a productive space. As she made her way downstairs, loud music and loud voices from the back of the house made her stride toward it in curiosity.
The voices grew as she reached a window that overlooked the pool. Fifteen girls lounged around the pool, and the buffoon group had expanded to add a few more. She turned away from the commotion and found Trent making his way up the stairs with Mrs. Berry.
Two hours later, she lay with her arm resting over her forehead, clenching her teeth. So it turned out that it was a fucking party. It’s his house. He can do as he wishes. But did it have to be so loud?
She didn’t remember the last time she’d actually gone to a party and enjoyed it. She was a bit of a bore now, she knew. She worked too much and slept too early whenever she got the chance.
At ten p.m. Trent was still toying with his fingers, and she was at breaking point.
“Why aren’t you sleeping, Trent?” She tried to keep the frustration out of her voice.
“I’m not sleepy.”
“Of course you are, sweetie. It’s been a long day. You must be tired.”
“It’s noisy.”
“That it is,” she said as the music blared louder, as if to torture her some more. “Wait right here. I’ll be right back.”
She threw the covers off her body and stepped out onto the balcony. The sight of almost a hundred people swarming the massive pool, dancing, some of the girls swimming topless, made Hartford freeze in her tracks. Her eyes wide, she leaned over the railing, spotting something long and bright and wide that ran meters toward the well-tended lawns that spanned acres at the back of the house.
“What in the world…”
She stormed off the balcony and across the bedroom. Her bare feet were fast on the carpet as she made her way down the stairs, not caring that it wasn’t her place to object. She was a guest—not even that. She was a doctor. She was merely employed by Gerard, or his sponsors. But she didn’t care. She needed her sleep, and she needed her son to sleep, and she hadn’t expected it to be this bad when she decided to move in with an immature bachelor that would make her life hell.
“Gerard!” She stepped out the doors that led to the pool and almost slipped on the wet deck. Several of the seminaked guests turned around to glance at her. She didn’t spot Gerard, and she didn’t care that some of the girls snickered at her. Hartford’s gray sweatpants and red tank top were out of the place at the party, which was clearly following the theme birthday suit.
“Where’s Gerard?” she said to one of the buffoons she recognized.
His face fell. “He must be…”
Hartford thought he looked a little nervous that she’d crashed the party and was looking for Gerard. She was glad she made him nervous, because he was getting on her nerves.
“I’ll look for him.” He scurried off, and Hartford turned, impatiently looking around, her temper ready to burst out of her. She had to step back abruptly as she came face-to-face with a tall, muscular African American guy, who she recognized as Gerard’s teammate. Jackson Brass. He was expressionless, but his dark eyes were hot as his gaze slid down her neck to her breasts, then her toes, before casually making its way up again.
“I don’t think this is the fancy-dress party you were trying to get to.”
Hartford crossed her arms over her chest, raising her brows and eyeing him with such distaste that he looked a little mortified. Then he stepped back, chuckling to cover up his embarrassment.
“Didn’t mean to offend you.”
Hartford smiled coldly. “You didn’t. I’m simply amazed that you’re such a boneheaded idiot in real life.”
A few of the girls within earshot chuckled, and the man’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
Gerard appeared by her side, but she ignored him for the time being. She had another target for her outburst at the moment. Gerard could get in line. “I said, you’re quite the bonehead, aren’t you?”
“Whoa, whoa.” Gerard hauled her back, his fingers biting into her arm.
“Who’s this chick, man?” Jackson called, his eyes bulging out of their sockets as he stepped toward Hartford almost threateningly. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Stay back, Jackson. She’s a friend of mine.” He then hauled Hartford by the arm into the house. “What did he say to you?”
Hartford was taken aback. Her fury lay confused midway, wondering what to do next. She hadn’t expected him to act so freaking possessive about her. “Nothing.”
“I’m sure you had a reason for calling him a bonehead.”
He wasn’t accusing her. He knew Jackson would’ve done something to deserve it. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is…”
“It matters. No one treats you wrong on my watch—”
“Stop it!” she cried. “Stop being like this.”
“Stop being like what? Tell me what he said.”
“Nothing! But he was checking me out like I was on sale at the window of his favorite store.”
Gerard’s eyes dropped to her body, to her tank top stretched taut over her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and when his eyes flamed in anger, her anger returned. “Oh, wow, so now you’ll judge me for dressing like this, when half the women out there are naked from the waist up.”
“You can walk around wearing anything you damn well please. How dare that fucker…”
Hartford stood stock-still as he reached for the glass doors. She reacted instinctively and grabbed his arm. “Wait, what are you doing?”
“I’m going to break his face.”
Hartford gaped at Gerard. “What has gotten into you?” She clutched his forearm as if her life depended on it. “I’m your doctor. Nothing else. Stop pretending I mean anything to you.”
Gerard was panting, furious at Jackson and appalled by her outburst. “Of course you mean something to me.”
Hartford scoffed, screaming to be heard over the music penetrating the glass doors and making them rattle. She yanked the glass doors shut again, but it barely made a difference. They were in full view of his guests. “Stop pretending, Gerard. It doesn’t matter. I don’t expect you to give a shit.”
“What in the world are you on about? I’m trying to have your back and you’re going off at me for what reason exactly?”
“Don’t want you to ‘have my back,’” she said stiffly. “Just don’t. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone. I don’t need your support. You know what I do need, though?”
Gerard’s eyes darted over her face, and he drew in a deep breath. “What?”
“I fucking… need… some sleep!”
Gerard exhaled hotly, as if he’d been expecting some meaningful, profound, emotional request.
“First off, I didn’t plan this party. It was very last-minute.”
She laughed out loud, but it was an empty sound. “I don’t care! You think I give a fuck? I know it’s your house and you can do as you wish, but did you have to throw the party of the year right now? When you have a three-year-old in the house who can’t go to sleep because he says the house is too noisy?”
Gerard pushed his hands through his hair. “I didn’t think of that.”
She scoffed. “Of course you didn’t. You’ve always been too selfish and too self-centered—”
“Woah, whoa…” He lifted his hands to stop her rant. “What are we talking about again? Because I have a feeling this is not about the party.”
“It is. It’s just another way of you exhibiting how immature you are. Look at that fucking slip and slide out there. It’s the biggest I’ve seen in my life, and this party is worse than the one Damien threw for you. It’s disgusting, the kind of people you hang out with.”
“Stop with the meaningless insults. You’re smarter than that.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips. “This is all about me and Trent, isn’t it? You’re trying to show me how irresponsible you are so that I don’t get any ideas about having a life with you.”
“What?” He was incredulous.
She ignored his expression. “Don’t worry, Gerard. I don’t want to stay with you. This is just a job to me, and you know why I took it? Because I wanted to spend time with my son. Because I work too much and I miss out on all his milestones. Your parents get to enjoy them all because they’re the most amazing people I’ve ever known. How did you end up so uncaring and cold?”
“Hold up. You want me to care that Trent is here and you’re here, or you don’t? Decide before you argue, because right now, you’re contradicting yourself terribly and nothing you say makes any sense.”
Hartford knew she was simply rambling in her fury, but she’d had it. “If you’d like us to leave, please inform the hospital and I’ll be gone first thing in the morning.”
“What?” he cried when she turned away. “That’s it? That’s your solution to everything, isn’t it? Just fucking disappear every time things don’t go your way.”
She whirled around. “Are you insinuating I’ve done that before?”
“Yes,” he hissed, not backing down. “Let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about how you can even think that you haven’t done this before. Because as far as I remember—” He yelled as the music grew wilder and somewhat louder. “—I called you the second I landed here, and I called you for the next three months, but you’d simply ghosted me. It was as if you never even existed.”
“I didn’t want to see you.”
“Okay. And after that statement as an answer to what I just said, you’ll still argue that I’m the immature one?” He grated his teeth and yanked the door open. Louder music spilled in momentarily. “Someone turn the volume down! Right now!” he yelled and slammed the door shut.
Hartford spotted several of the buffoons looking worried. It was clear that the two of them were arguing, and it was no secret that she didn’t like the men who came to cash in on Gerard’s money and fame. They looked away guiltily when she stared back at them.
“You know what? Yes, I would still say that, because I’m not the only one who was expected to be responsible and answerable in that relationship. When you stopped being answerable, so did I. And since we’re on the topic of immaturity, let me mention that I can very well see why you’re letting these idiots come in and fill your day, when you could be doing something better…” Like getting to know your son. But she hated that thought. She didn’t want to want that. It hurt like hell knowing that Gerard didn’t care about her child.
“What is your problem with them?”
“My problem with them is that they’re props designed to keep you occupied so you don’t have to deal with the fact that you have your ex-girlfriend and your son in the house with you!”
The words hung in the air. Your son. It felt strange. Obviously, he hadn’t heard those words before. He twisted his neck as stress seized it up along the back, and he simply stood panting, exhausted from the argument.
She was as shocked as he was. She clutched both sides of her sweatpants and dropped her gaze to a spot near his feet. Slowly, Gerard turned toward the window, and so did she. Several of his guests were looking straight toward the arguing couple.
Belatedly realizing they were putting on a show, he turned back to Hartford. “Do you think we should talk about what happened so you can get some of the anger out?”
She clenched her eyes shut, knowing he was right. But she refused to give him the satisfaction of atoning to her. She’d struggled and fought these last three years while raising Trent. It was the most difficult thing she’d ever done.
“I’m not angry at you for the past,” she said slowly, her temper fizzled out and dry after referring to Trent as Gerard’s son. She felt like she’d betrayed her own self. “It’s about what you’re doing right now.”
He walked toward her and when she stepped back automatically, he lifted his hands. “I’m just trying to get out of sight of the guests.”
Hartford stepped back toward the four steps that led toward the staircase. “I shouldn’t. We shouldn’t.” There was no point putting herself in a situation where she was alone with Gerard. “Just try to keep the party down.”
“Just talk to me.” Gerard sounded desperate.
“I can’t.”
“Hart…”
Hartford stopped in her tracks. Her breath hitched, tears blurring her sight. Hart. No one ever called her that, and she hadn’t heard that since he’d accidently let it slip when she arrived at his house. She shook her head vehemently to deny the warmth that was telling her to bawl and fix things and let herself want him without all the reservations.
“Just go back to your stupid party. I have to get back to Trent. He’s still awake.”
***
Gerard stood watching her round hips swaying gorgeously as she walked away and turned the corner. He was confused and claustrophobic, trapped among the walls of his house that seemed too close and too restricting. He couldn’t escape. Nothing he did was good enough. If he didn’t want to talk, he was avoiding her. If he wanted to talk, she didn’t want to give him the chance. He felt like a noose was wrapped around his throat, and it grew tighter every moment.
He needed to talk, and he needed to know what had happened to make her dump him like a hot potato. He needed to know why she’d given up on him when he’d loved her so damn much.
He strode back out to the pool and dove into the pool. Resurfacing, he grabbed a cocktail from the bar the caterers had set up near the edge and let it burn down his throat. “Give me something stronger.” He had several shots before leaving the pool.
One of the girls who’d been vying for his attention—though he had no idea who she was or who had brought her along—wrapped her arm around his waist. He smiled at her and held her tightly, letting her guide him to her group of friends. He needed to stop thinking of the stunning African American woman who’d been stuck inside his head for years, who was at that instant sleeping with his son. His son.
He threw himself into the party. There had to be an escape from this pain and agony. There had to be.