Believe Me (Hearts for Ransom Book 3) (20 page)

He set the paper down and leaned down to kiss the silky curls on the sleeping baby’s head. She was his, and the certificate Claire had just given him would tell the world he claimed her.

“You’ll never know how much this means to me. There aren’t even words.” He looked at Spencer. “Yours is going to look like this soon, too, but you’d better turn around if you don’t want to be grossed out again.”

He nearly pulled Claire off her feet, he kissed her so deeply. She felt it in her toes. Mason looked over her shoulder and chuckled after they pulled apart. Spencer was sitting with his hands over his eyes, moaning, “Just tell me when you’re finished.”

Mason softly told her, “If everything works out the way I want, we’ll never be finished. Please believe me, Claire; I love you and your kids, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.” He kissed her again. Spencer might just have to stay that way for a while. Mason wanted to kiss the woman he loved.

“Hey.”

Mason looked across the table at his pinochle partner. He knew that expression; what was Bo up to?

Bo dramatically thumped his chest. “Jan is my queen, and she has stolen my heart.”

Just when Mason was about to suggest somebody call a doctor to check his friend, Jan leaned over and smacked her husband’s arm.

“Don’t you try that trick, Bogard Daniels.”

Claire wondered what was going on with the other couple.

Jan explained. “He’s using a trick one of my nursing home residents came up with. He just told Mason to pass him the queen of hearts.”

“Oh.” Mason understood now; Bo’s bat hadn’t suddenly gone hollow—he was just cheating. Since this was the first time he had played pinochle with this passing cards move, he was confused anyway.

Claire looked at the cards in her hand, and couldn’t stop her smile. “It doesn’t matter,” she told Jan. “Let him cheat.” All four queen of hearts cards were safely in her possession.

From the look on Claire’s face, Mason figured she must have the cards Bo needed. He sure didn’t. He looked at his cards and tried to figure out which other ones to pass. Maybe one from each suit? Or two jacks, a queen, and a four…

“I’m getting old over here.” Bo had evidently placed his four cards on the table quite a while ago.

Mason looked up at him. “I told you. I’m not much of a pinochle player in the first place, let alone with this passing stuff. You know I’m a poker man.”

“Well, since Claire doesn’t know how to play poker yet, we figured we’d stick to a game she’s familiar with.” Jan scolded him. “Besides, Mason. This is only your second date. You should still be doing everything she wants.”

“We’ll have to teach you to play poker, though.” Bo might have just told Claire she would learn brain surgery.

“I told you, I’d try it this evening.” Claire didn’t mind a bit if they wanted to play poker. She would learn.

“I want to teach you.” Mason reached over with his free hand and placed it on her arm. “Don’t worry. My apartment is poker central. We all play penny ante a couple of times a month.” He finally decided which cards to pass. He spoke to his friend as he handed him the cards. “I’ll have her playing as good as Emily by the time I host our next poker night.”

“Emily plays poker?” For some reason, Claire found that hard to believe. It surprised her enough to discover Jan played.

“Like a pro.” Bo nodded as Mason answered her. “You have to watch her, too. She’ll have you thinking she has a winning hand and after everybody else folds, she’ll have a couple of threes or something.”

“Mason, you moron!” Bo had just taken a good look at the cards he’d given him. “Look at the ones I gave you.”

Mason picked up the cards Bo passed and burst into laughter. They were exactly the same cards. “I guess those aren’t going to help you, huh?”

Claire observed the two men’s interaction and realized something. Even though they had been giving each other a hard time since the game began, Mason and Bo were friends. There was something unquestionable and deep between them.

“Well, I guess diamonds will have to be trumps.” Bo frowned as he placed a card on the table to start a hand.

Mason had half his mind on the game, and the other half thinking about how good it felt to be with Claire. He frequently found a “date” for his poker nights, but he never felt like he did right now. Instead of sitting on the edge and watching his friends be happy with their ladies, he had Claire. He was one of the very men he’d been trying to change for years. The truth hit him. He hadn’t attempted to talk his friends into trying his lifestyle because it was better. He was jealous and lonely. Now, if things went the way he planned, he would never have to be like that again.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Claire’s voice was soft.

Mason looked at her and stated the simple truth. “You make me happy.”

“Oh, for the love of…” Bo shook his head and threw his cards on the table. “I’ve seen it all. Mason Wright is getting all mushy and lovey-dovey now.”

“Bo.” Jan picked up his cards and handed them back to him. “If you don’t play nice, I’ll have to tell our friends just how mushy and lovey-dovey you can sometimes be . Would you like that?”

A growl emanated from Bo’s chest right before he grabbed Jan’s arm and pulled her to him, chair and all.

“I’ll show you how much I like that.” He proceeded to give her a very thorough kiss. Claire’s eyes met Mason’s, and he shrugged.

“I mean it, you know,” he murmured to her. “I’ve never felt this happy before.”

Claire felt a warmth in her chest. “You make me happy, too.”

She heard the scrape of Jan’s chair as Bo carefully scooted her back to her side of the table.

“Okay.” Bo leaned back and picked up his cards. “I just kissed my wife, and you two just said how happy you’re making each other. That’s really nice.” He placed a card on the table. “Now can we play cards?”

Claire smiled happily as she trumped Bo’s card. She wasn’t going to just be with Mason if this all worked out. She was going to have a whole new set of friends. Could life get any better?

“So, what movie did you bring to torture me with this evening?” Mason asked Claire. They had been “dating” for the past three weeks, with Claire bringing Zoey in every day during the week when she picked Spencer up, and just the two of them spending Friday and Saturday evenings together. Someday, he was going to broach the idea of “Family Sundays” with her.

“I thought you said there wasn’t too much romance in the one we watched last night.” Her eyebrows went up “And now you’re telling me I tortured you?”

He chuckled. “It’s just if there’s kissing to be done, I’d much rather be doing it than watching other people enjoy themselves.” He pulled her to him and kissed her with the promise of much more to come as soon as he was able. He wanted to stand in front of her and hold her against him so he could kiss her right…the way he’d only been able to once before…a long time ago.

“Claire?” he murmured against her lips.

“Hmmm?” She pressed against him as tightly as she could. She would be so glad when he was out of this blasted wheelchair and back on his feet.

“I love you.” He tangled his hand in her hair and angled her head so he could deepen the kiss. When they finally broke apart, he knew two things for sure. All his appendages were in prime working order, and this woman held his heart in her hands.

She smiled at him. “I’m getting there, believe me.”

“I have to.” He forced his attention away from her tempting lips and back to the television. “So, the movie. What did you bring?”

“It’s a surprise.” She walked over and put a disc in the player.

Claire was sitting in a chair next to his when the movie started, and she was right. It was a surprise. She rented the latest action movie on the market. As far as he knew, the only kissing portrayed in it would be if the bad guys made somebody kiss their guns.

“Thank you,” he told her.

“You’re welcome.” Truthfully, she felt guilty about the previous evening’s movie. In all fairness, she hadn’t known it was that much of a love story—or there were so many risqué love scenes. After so many weeks in those casts and Mason’s eighteen-month abstinence, she was afraid she inadvertently stirred things up that couldn’t be taken care of for the time being.

“Did you bring my Milk Duds tonight?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered. “But you only ate two plates of stroganoff. I’m not sure you should have candy.”

“Gimme my Duds.”

Laughing, she stood up and walked to her bag, where she’d stored a large box of Milk Duds. Of all the things for Mason Wright to crave. Claire handed him the box and quickly withdrew her hand. “I’m afraid I’ll draw back a nub,” she explained in response to his puzzled expression.

He grinned at her as he shamelessly opened the box and dug in.

Claire rolled her eyes when, not more than fifteen minutes into the movie, the hero fought off at least a dozen men. With nothing more than a putty knife and tin can. “This is ridic—”

“Shhh.” Mason held a hand up. “I saw this on the previews. He’s going to start the martial arts now.”

Great. A putty knife, tin can, and now the most pathetically choreographed kicks Claire had ever seen. “Come on, Mason. That guy’s foot was six inches from the bad man’s face—he didn’t come close to actually kicking him.”

Mason’s eyes didn’t leave the screen. “His moves are too fast for the camera to catch.”

After watching Mason a few more minutes, Claire reached the unfortunate conclusion he was very serious about the idiotic nonsense on the television screen. At least the words matched lip movements; she could be thankful for that. 

He was so caught up in the big airplane scene, Mason had to look twice after he glanced over to see Claire with a checkbook and calculator. “What are you doing?”

“Balancing my checkbook.” Didn’t he keep his checking account straight?

“You’re missing the movie.”

“I’ve been keeping track right here.” Claire held up the deposit slip she used. “Look.”

Mason glanced between Claire and the TV long enough to see another undercover agent be thrown from the plane. Hunter Flood couldn’t save everybody.

“Just a minute.” Claire pulled the paper back and marked it with her pen. “There.”

Mason accepted the paper, only to see tally marks and a list of vehicles. “I don’t understand.”

Claire pointed to the screen, where the hero evidently knew how to fly a jet. He had already overtaken and driven a tank, operated a bomb-ridden submarine, sailed a sinking yacht and burning speedboat, flew a helicopter, and parachuted off a cliff. “There’s a mark for every person he killed. Thirty-three, I think. You’ll have to count. And I wasn’t sure what to call the thing that burrowed through sand—are there really vehicles like that?”

He looked from the paper to the twinkle in her eyes, momentarily forgetting the movie. “Are you serious?”

She held her checkbook in the air. “I’m a great multi-tasker.”

Mason shifted in his chair to better focus on her. “So, you’re telling me you kept track of these,” he lifted the paper in his hands, “while you balanced your checkbook.”

She shrugged. “I have a habit of counting to pass the time. Forty-eight ceiling tiles, nine hundred and seventy-nine clouds on three walls, seventy-three freckles across the nicest nurse’s face, thirteen hours and forty-one minutes of labor.” Claire realized what she said and immediately shifted her gaze to the floor.

Movie forgot, Mason reached out and touched her cheek. “You were alone when Spence was born, weren’t you?”

She silently nodded.

“Where were your parents, Claire? Where are they now?”

“They…” How could she tell him what her parents forced her to do?

“Tell me it’s none of my business if you want, and I’ll understand. It’s just that…Will you tell me about your past?”

She sat back down beside him. Could she tell him?

He leaned over and gently kissed her. “I really love you, you know.”

“I believe you,” she admitted, “and I’m getting there.”

“Good.”

Claire felt guilty. She knew the sordid details about Mason’s past exploits. Didn’t she owe it to him to tell him about her past?

“I’ll have to start with Spencer’s father.” She closed her eyes for a long moment before looking at the brown ones their daughter inherited. “You may not feel the same way about me when you find out how stupid I was.”

Given his past indiscretions, it was ironic, but Mason didn’t want to think about her being with another man, or in this case, boy. Yet, when he asked her the question, he knew this would be part of her answer. “You can tell me anything you want.”

So she told him everything. He clenched his fists and wanted to hit something when he recognized the parallels in the way Tim Sheffield left Claire lying in the maze and the way he had gone off and left her lying in her bed. She had to have felt used again. He had just felt so guilty.

“So, my parents told me I either had to put Spencer up for adoption or get out of their house.” Her sorrowful eyes met his. “I couldn’t give up my baby, so I left. I was sixteen years old, and I left.”

“Where did you live when all this happened?”

“A small town in northwestern Indiana—Warder. You’ve probably never heard of it.” She smiled sadly. “As far as I know, my parents still live there.”

“Have they ever tried to contact you?” he asked. “Don’t they want to know Spencer?” He couldn’t imagine it being otherwise.

“No.” He would probably never be able to understand. “My parents were…are very single-minded and self-righteous. If they even so much as called, they would look upon it as sanctioning Spencer’s birth, after they had forbidden me to keep him. It will never happen, Mason, and I don’t want Spencer to ever know that his grandparents would rather not have their only daughter in their lives than to have an unwed mother and her baby in their home.” She shivered. “That’s a pain I can protect my son from. I don’t have to let their coldness and cruelty hurt Spencer.”

“Like they hurt you,” Mason observed.

She nodded. “Like they hurt me. As far as Spencer is concerned, his grandparents passed away right before he was born. I don’t feel like that’s a lie, Mason, because when my father stood there and told me I was dead to them, our connection was severed. Does that make any sense? Am I wrong?”

If anybody could understand hateful and hurtful parents, it would be him. He still needed to tell her about his…soon.

“It makes perfect sense, and you’re doing what you have to do for Spencer,” he told her. “I don’t know what else to say, Claire, except I love you, and I wish you hadn’t gone through all that. I’m sorrier than words can say that I hurt you in a way so similar to what Spencer’s father did.”

She still wanted to clear the air about that night, but she had just reopened some deep wounds, and she didn’t think she could handle anything else right then.

“I know,” she admitted. She kissed him. “I think I’d better call it a night.”

Claire sounded so sad. He suddenly became determined to end their evening on a lighter note.

“Okay.” He gave her a quick kiss. “Thanks for the Duds and that movie.”

“Yeah.” She grimaced. “I’ll leave it so you can finish watching the silly thing before I return it.”

She stood up and put on her coat. Before she picked up her bag, Mason put his hand on her arm and stopped her.

Can you do me a favor?”

She looked at him suspiciously. “I’m not going to buzz Sandra and tell her I’d like a number four, supersized, with a chocolate shake.”

“I couldn’t resist,” he told her. “That battle-axe won’t leave me alone.”

“Really mature there, Mason.” She rolled her eyes, fighting the giggles. It had actually been hilarious when the stern woman came charging into the room and chewed the “young man” up one side and down the other for “misusing” hospital equipment. Mason hadn’t helped anything when he told Sandra he intended to share his fries with her, thus the supersized order. “What do you want me to do?” she asked, still unsure if he was up to something ornery again.

“I know you have to rush around after work to get Spencer here, and then bring Zoey back, but just this once, could you take a few minutes and come in with Spence when you bring him on Monday? I promise it won’t take very long.”

What was he up to? “Yes.”

“Can I have one more kiss before you leave?” He may as well go for broke since she was so agreeable.

She leaned down and tried to give him a chaste peck on the lips. Mason had other plans, though. He reached up and held her head so he could kiss her in such a way she would still feel it when she went to sleep that night. He knew he would.

“Goodnight.” His voice was husky as he spoke.

“Mason…” Her hand touched her lips. That had been the most amazing kiss she ever received. “Goodnight.”

He watched her pick up her bag and walk out the door.

Mason was going to win her heart. He had to because he could no longer imagine life without her.