Montana Cherries (5 page)

How completely precious. This was powerful stuff.

“She just needs to spend time with you, Ben. That’s all. Read her a story, talk to her. Show her that you love her. Jenna’s been around me since birth. It gave me the advantage here.”

He nodded, hanging on her every word.

Show her in more ways than sitting in the same room with her while she watches a Disney
DVD,
she wanted to add, but suspected he got it without her voicing the thought. She touched his arm, the muscles below the skin bunching. “She just wants to know you’re there for her.”

“Of course I’m there for her, but she . . . you . . .” He shook his head, frustration etching his features. “She laughs and talks to you. I can barely get her to look at me.”

Her heart completely flattened under the weight of his pain. “It’s new for you both. You’re as scared as she is and she can sense that. She’s already had one parent disappear on her.” She lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “She’s not comfortable with you yet. That’s all.”

“But with you—”

“With me she knows I’m not the parent who’s supposed to stick around forever. It makes it easier to relax. To accept me for exactly who I am. I’m the fun aunt. The one who plays Barbies and reads stories.” She paused. “I’m not a threat.”

Her words removed some of the strain from his face, but the rest of him remained coiled tight. She waited while he digested her words. He seemed to turn them over in his mind and study them. He was a thing of beauty to watch, even when the only thing he was doing was thinking about his daughter.

Especially when the only thing he was doing was thinking about his daughter.

Finally, he nodded, slowly at first, then with more certainty. “I see what you mean. I’m a threat.”

“Only because she’s scared. It’s not you personally.”

“I get that,” he murmured. “I just have to prove myself.”

“Exactly. You can start putting her to bed at night, if you’d like. That would help.” It would also mean that Dani wouldn’t get to do it for Jenna since the girls were sleeping together.

“Include her in things.” He nodded. “Talk to her.”

“Yes, right.” She smiled up at him. “You’re already a good father, Ben. You let her into your life. You brought her here. Soon you’ll be a terrific one.”

He locked his gaze on hers. “You really think so?”

“I know so.” Her head felt almost too heavy to nod.

He glanced at the door again, before coming back to her. “Will you help me?”

The plea punctured her heart. “However I can.”

“Just teach me how to be a good parent.”

They stood together, mere inches separating them once again, when a noise on the stairs pulled their attention. Turning together, they saw Michelle come around the bend. She eyed Ben as if he were the dessert she never allowed herself, then reached behind her and unzipped her dress.

At the same time her foot touched the landing, the material dropped from her shoulders. It hung at her waist as she passed them, her fingertips skimming Ben’s shoulder blades along the way, and at the bedroom door, the dress hit the floor. She stood in nothing but four-inch heels and a matching thong and bra.

Then she disappeared behind the door.

It had all taken a matter of seconds, but it was enough to ease the moment. She and Ben turned to each other, and both burst out laughing.

“I’m not imagining that, right?” he asked, motioning to the master bedroom. “She’s been flirting with me?”

“Well, I’m no authority on flirting, but that’s what it looks like to me.”

“Why?”

Dani shook her head, out of ideas concerning Michelle. “Heck if I know.” But it bothered her greatly. Her brother didn’t deserve that for a wife.

They both stared at the closed door once more, and Dani decided that Michelle’s interruption marked a good time for her to make her exit. She had a couple of hours of work to do before she went to bed, and she also wanted to get started packing up her belongings. Harvest would begin next week, and she’d be leaving immediately after. She didn’t want to worry about cleaning out her room while the rest of her family was home.

“So you’re good?” she asked, putting a foot of distance between them. “About Haley?”

“I’m good.” He gave a small smile. “At least, I know where to start.”

“
’Kay,” she breathed. His smiles got her every time. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She headed for the stairs before she was tempted to strip out of her own clothes, but stopped at the sound of his voice.

“Dani.” The word was spoken quietly.

She turned back. “Yes?”

“What about what Haley said?”

“What do you mean?”

In two strides he was back in her space. “She gave you something for me.”

Haley hadn’t—

Dani sucked in air. “The kiss?” Her eyebrows shot up.

Ben shrugged, his shoulders practically rippling under his shirt, as mischief played in his eyes. “It
was
meant for me.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Not going to happen, Hollywood. Our kissing days are over. You’ll just have to
tell
her that I gave it to you.”

“Now what kind of a parent would I be if I started off by lying to my own daughter?” He shook his head and tapped a finger to his lips. “I want my kiss.”

He gave an exaggerated pucker. The truth was, she wanted a kiss too. Only, not the one his daughter had given her. But if he wanted to play, she could play.

In fact, she suddenly felt very much like playing.

“Well.” She drew the word out in her most sultry voice. “Since you insist.”

She rested her hands on his chest, and his teasing expression turned instantly to heat. The overexaggerated pucker disappeared, the change catching her off guard, and she was left with the understanding that she wasn’t alone with her attraction.

Which she did
not
need to know.

Unsure why she continued stoking this particular fire, yet unable to help herself, she lifted to her toes and slid one hand up to his face. He stilled, and with a patience she did not feel, she turned his cheek to her mouth, and she leaned in for a soft peck.

Just barely grazing his cheek.

A shiver ran the length of her body at the feel of his rough whiskers under her lips, then she pulled away, breathed in his heady scent, and said softly, “Good night, Daddy.”

Dani disappeared down the stairs as Ben watched with his tongue hanging out.
Damn.

He wanted to chase after her and drag her to her room, assuming she didn’t smack his face simply for suggesting it. But doing so would surely complicate his already complicated life.

It didn’t last time,
his overeager self informed him.

And no, it hadn’t. Not really.

He hadn’t seen her the morning after, nor had he returned for Christmas that year. Neither of which had done anything to ease his remorse. But they
had
seen each other at his and Gabe’s graduation ceremony the following spring. Pleasantries had been exchanged, and Dani hadn’t seemed in the least angry. It had been cordial.

No complications.

Yet something told him that this time around would be different. He was no longer a cocky twenty-one-year-old just looking for a good time. He had a kid now. He needed to figure out what to do with his life.

Stripping Dani of her clothing simply to see if she still moved the same way underneath him would not, necessarily, help him with any of that.

But good Lord, did he want to.

Footsteps once again fell on the stairs, and his body went on red alert. Was she coming back?

But it wasn’t Dani. Instead, Gabe appeared.

He glanced at the girls’ closed door. “Everyone asleep?”

“They just went down,” Ben told him. “Jenna was asking for you.”

A faint smile touched Gabe’s face. “She likes to get a kiss every night.”

Though the smile was there, Ben didn’t miss the soberness that remained in Gabe’s features. The same sense of defeat Ben had noticed every day since he’d been back. He had yet to ask about it.

Then Gabe’s gaze landed on something at the far end of the hall. Michelle’s dress.

“What the hell?” he muttered.

Ben tensed.
Shit.
How was he supposed to explain to his buddy that his wife had just stripped in front of him?

But he didn’t have to. Gabe got it. “She took it off out here?”

Ben nodded.
Double
s
hit.

“And I take it that
you
were out here when she did?”

“I’m sorry—”

Gabe’s harsh laugh cut him off. “
I’m
sorry. She likes to make a point when she’s mad.”

“Ah,” Ben murmured. He thought he understood. “The night out didn’t go well?”

“The night out went as good as every other night for the past six months. Three hours of nonstop complaining about how she hates Birch Bay and wants to move.”

“Damn.”

“Tell me about it. If we don’t relocate, I think she might leave me.”

Ben didn’t ask if that would be such a bad thing. He knew nothing about their marriage or their relationship. He only knew that the wife was a flirt.

“Don’t say anything to Dani, will you?” Gabe scratched at the back of his neck as he once again stared at the far end of the hall.

“About the possibility of you moving?” Ben asked. “Or a divorce?”

Flat eyes turned to him. “Either. I just need to hold it together until she’s gone.” Gabe looked at the dress once more, shook his head, and muttered,
“Sonofabitch.”
Then without another word, he slipped into the girls’ room.

Ben could hear him telling both girls good-night before he exited, gave Ben a nod, and headed for his wife. Leaving Ben once again staring at a closed door, knowing that his daughter was on the other side of it.

He stepped forward.

He hadn’t really thought about it since he’d first learned of Haley, but he’d once wanted to be a dad. He hadn’t been in any hurry, assuming it would happen when the timing was right. When he met the right woman. But he had wanted it.

And now he had it.

And it scared the living shit out of him.

What if he did it all wrong? Screwed her up?

What if she never grew to like him?

He cracked the door open, but instead of going in, he remained just outside of the opening, his biggest fear making an unwelcome appearance in his head.

What if he was no better at parenting than his mother had been?

He leaned his forehead against the doorframe, listening to his daughter talk. She was explaining to Jenna that her mother would be coming back to get her soon. And Ben knew for an absolute fact that she would not. He’d made sure of it.

But what was he supposed to say to that?

Feeling even more inept than usual, he silently pulled the door back to him. Right before it closed, the pink stuffed rabbit he’d bought at the trendy boutique near his apartment caught his eye. It was lying on the opposite side of the room, shoved half under a dresser.

Forgotten.

chapter five

T
he rip of tape filled the air as Dani secured another box. Then she stood back and surveyed the damage.

Unlike fourteen years ago when she’d packed up her clothes and only her favorite items before heading to New York, over the past couple of days, she’d gone through thirty-two years’ worth of memories tucked away in her bedroom closet. She’d found more than one forgotten item. It had been fun sorting through everything, only now she wanted to take even more of it with her.

But wherever she ended up, her apartment would no doubt be tiny. Space would be at a premium. Therefore, the majority of her belongings would stay here, stored in the attic until she found a more permanent, and larger, place. The other boxes would ship out when she did.

She glanced at the open closet, at the condensed amount of clothes hanging on the rack. She had three weeks left here, but she’d kept out everything she would need. What remained would go into the suitcases she’d be taking with her.

Eyeing the remainder of the room, an overwhelming sense of sadness engulfed her at the distinct lack of
stuff
. There would soon be no traces of her left.

Her bed and dresser would be shipped out, as well, along with a few pictures from the walls and a couple of other pieces throughout the house. But other than that, that’s all she’d be taking with her. Maybe a few dishes. But those had been her mother’s, and Dani didn’t feel right taking much. This had been her mother’s house, and Dani had never pushed to change much up. Her dad and brothers hadn’t either. It seemed more respectful to keep traces of their mom around. A way to honor her memory.

Studying the dressing table, then the antique desk in the corner, Dani decided to go ahead and sort through the desk tonight. It had been her grandmother’s, handed down to her dad and then to her, but she hadn’t used it since setting up her office in the study years ago. Curious as to what she might find tucked away inside, she settled into the chair.

Pulling open the bottom drawer, the first thing she saw made her smile.

It was a square box, deeper than it was wide, and almost too deep for the drawer. She tugged it out and removed the lid. A rhinestone tiara sat cushioned on a swath of black velvet, the topmost jewel having dulled after years of no use. She’d won the title of Miss Cherry Blossom as a senior in high school, and had worn this crown with pride.

Until her mother made her feel insignificant.

She paused with her thumb caressing the stones. What?

But the memory was gone. She closed her eyes and tried to bring it back. Her mother had . . .

Dani shook her head. Nothing.

Absolutely nothing came to mind. But she couldn’t believe her mother had done anything that would make her feel bad about winning the crown. Her mother had been the one to encourage her to enter the competition. Miss Cherry Blossom was part beauty contest and part academic, and though not as gorgeous as her mother, Dani had held her own with her classmates. Winning this title had added much-needed money to her scholarship.

She lifted the crown out of the box and moved to the mirror at the dressing table. And as if she were still eighteen, she placed it on the top of her head and struck a pose.

The sight made her think of Ben and all the models he’d met over the years.

And the fact that he’d even had his own princess. Who no doubt had a
real
crown.

She made a face at herself in the mirror. Good for him. While he’d been living the life, she’d been stuck here in Birch Bay having one crappy relationship after another.

Not that she’d wanted a forever relationship. But she would’ve liked to have had one that didn’t end up with her waiting on the guy hand and foot. However, every single man she’d gone out with for more than a few weeks had somehow ended up getting her to run around more like his servant than his lover.

That’s the reason she’d eventually quit dating.

She returned to the desk, leaving the crown on her head, to see what else she could find. And what she found was a hot-pink boa.

Her legs folded underneath her as she sank to the floor. Tugging the boa from the drawer, she smoothed her fingers over the soft feathers and let it trail over the back of her hand. This had been a birthday present to her mother when Dani had been seven. After saving up her allowance for over a month, she’d spent thirty minutes at the school’s fall festival picking out the perfect gift—pink had been her mother’s favorite color. Dani had been certain her mother would love it.

But she hadn’t.

She wouldn’t even put it on.

Which seemed so contradictory to everything else Dani remembered about her mom.

Yet the memory was strong enough that it threatened to cut off the oxygen to her lungs. She pressed a hand to her mouth, sucking in a deep gulp of air as she worked to recall the specifics of that day. But all she got was that her mother had not liked the feathers, and that she’d refused to put it on.

In fact, she’d wanted to throw it away, but Dani had . . .

Dani lifted her chin and stared at nothing as another memory crashed over her. Her mother
had
thrown it away. Dani had snuck into the laundry room in the middle of the night and retrieved it from where it had been crammed in with handfuls of lint from the dryer. She’d hidden it in her backpack for weeks after that, terrified her mom would find it.

Dani wasn’t sure where she’d stashed it after that, but clearly, it had eventually made it into the drawer with her crown.

The open drawer mocked her now, as she wondered what else she might find in there. And if she even wanted to know. So far, the two things she’d pulled out had retrieved painful memories she hadn’t known existed.

And that she couldn’t explain.

Why be so cruel as to throw away a gift from a child? Granted, it was tacky, and Dani could see that now. No woman in her right mind would want to wear a hot-pink boa to run errands in town, sure. But a seven-year-old wouldn’t get that. And to toss it into the trash?

She ripped the crown from her head and shoved both it and the boa carelessly into the open drawer. Then she slammed it closed and clambered to her feet. The room seemed stifling all of a sudden.

Yanking open the door, she headed for the kitchen.

Only to stop short at the sound of Ben’s low voice.

“Did you want to use the red one?” There was a pause before he asked, “Blue?”

Another pause.

“Green?”

Several seconds of silence ticked off before Dani heard Haley’s soft voice say, “Pink.”

“Sure. Pink is nice.”

Dani tiptoed down the hallway until she could see what was going on. Ben and Haley were sitting at the kitchen table, and Haley had a page from a coloring book in front of her.

“You’re supposed to stay inside the lines,” Ben explained.

Haley shifted very slightly in her seat so that her shoulder pointed toward her dad. She was trying to block him out.

The sight broke Dani’s heart once again. He’d been trying so hard the past couple of days, but the child wasn’t budging. He’d put her to bed the night before, and had even taken her into the orchard with him earlier today. Dani had seen them leave together, him carrying a camera and her clasping one of Jenna’s dolls to her chest. They’d come back less than thirty minutes later, and Haley had spent the remainder of the day playing with Jenna and Dani.

“Did you want me to show you how?” Ben asked, trying yet again to get the girl to respond.

“Hey,” Dani said, forcing cheer to her voice, as she entered the room. She shoved her own issues aside.

Ben looked up, but Haley remained focused on the page in front of her. She wasn’t exactly coloring, but the tip of the crayon
was
on the paper.

“I see you two are coloring. Can I join you?”

“Sure,” Haley mumbled. She pushed the paper to the empty spot in front of where Dani had pulled out a chair. Dani sat and took a careful look at the page, as though she were studying a great piece of art. The princess had a blue swipe over her face and a green one on the lower portion of her dress. There was no pink anywhere on the paper.

“Can I go to Jenna’s room now?” Haley asked, the question directed at Dani.

Dani didn’t immediately answer. But neither did Ben.

“How about you color with me instead?” Dani suggested. “I don’t like to color by myself.” She scooted her chair closer to Haley’s, tucked in next to the girl, and picked up the blue crayon. “I think I’ll start here.” She positioned the color right on the outside of the line.

As she did, Haley’s body tightened with anxiety. Dani ignored the nervousness of the child, coloring with wide, sweeping strokes on the blank corner of the page, and discreetly cut her eyes up at Ben. His were trained on her.

“He said that was wrong,” Haley whispered.

“Nah.” Dani shook her head. “Your dad just hasn’t colored enough. He doesn’t know that some of the prettiest pictures are made when you stay
outside
the lines.”

“Really?” Haley asked. She bit her lip and clenched her fingers around the pink crayon.

“Sure,” Dani said. She inched the paper back toward Haley. “Try it. I think this picture needs some pink on it.”

And so she did. Haley first swiped a couple of streaks on the top left corner of the page, and when her father didn’t say anything, she scrunched in her shoulders and began working in earnest.

A few of the marks made it onto the princess’s dress, but most of them did not.

When Haley exchanged the pink crayon for an orange one—and pulled the paper all the way back in front of her—Dani once again took a peek at Ben. He gave her a tiny shrug as if to say he hadn’t known what he was doing, and mouthed the words “Thank you” above Haley’s head.

“You’re welcome,” she mouthed back.

She watched Haley continue to color, while letting her mind return to what lay hidden in her desk drawer. The thought of retrieving whatever else might be tucked inside made her feel ill.

“What’s wrong?” Ben’s terse question brought Haley’s head up, but seeing that her dad wasn’t talking to her, she swiveled to Dani.

“Nothing,” Dani denied. How had he known something was wrong?

His eyes narrowed on her, and she felt locked into place. As if he didn’t intend to free her until she answered his question truthfully. The man had always been excellent at seeing inside her head. She sighed.

“It’s nothing,” she reiterated. “I was just packing up some things i
n my room. Thinking about the past.” She shrugged. “Brought up a couple of unpleasant memories, that’s all.”

“About?”

“Ben—”

“What about?”

She glanced at Haley, who had not returned to coloring. The girl was watching with curiosity, her eyes wide.

“My mom,” Dani finally admitted. She let the words hang there as she brought her gaze back to Ben’s. If he remembered much about their past conversations, he’d know how guilty she’d felt when she went off to college, leaving her mother here to handle everything by herself.

“How bad?” he asked.

She shrugged again. “Bad enough. Things I hadn’t thought about in years. Since before we lost her.”

Haley blinked. “You lost your mom, too?”

Oh, geez.

“Yeah, baby.” Dani patted Haley’s arm. “She . . . went away a long time ago. But that’s okay. I have a really great dad.”

The words only served to make Dani feel worse. She and her dad hadn’t always seen eye to eye, and she’d been known to give him a hard time over the years. They’d been closer when she was younger, but things had shifted at some point. Though she couldn’t quite put her finger on when, or even why, it had happened.

Haley took a quick peek at her father before refocusing on the picture in front of her, and Ben rose and went to the refrigerator. A smile formed on Dani’s mouth even before he opened the freezer door. He remembered. And he understood the reason she’d come to the kitchen in the first place.

When he pulled out the gallon tub of chocolate ice cream, Haley perked up. “Do we get ice cream?”

“I think Miss Dani could use some,” Ben told her.

Haley looked at Dani again, and all Dani could do was nod. Ben had not only seen that something was bothering her, but he remembered her go-to for crappy days.

“Two scoops?” he asked, and Dani almost wept.

One scoop was a not-so-perfect day that she just needed to unwind from. Two meant there was trouble. Add crumbled potato chips on top, and she needed to crawl under a rock and hide.

“Please,” she answered.

He shot a questioning look toward the pantry, and she mutely nodded.

“Can I have two?” Haley asked.

“One is probably enough for you,” Dani answered, not wanting Ben to have to be the bad guy, but also knowing that the child did
not
need two scoops of sugar.

Ben expertly crumbled a handful of chips over the ice cream and set Dani’s bowl in front of her. He winked at his daughter when her mouth hung open at the sight of Dani’s dessert.