Marriage On Demand (10 page)

Nothing long-term. Nothing else was safe. Rebecca was smart enough to know that about him. That's why she'd left without looking back. As she'd so bluntly put it, he'd done her a favor. They were both realistic enough to look at that night for what it was. No ties, no questions about feelings or love.

Love. He shook his head. Love was an illusion. Something men said to get women into bed and something women used to trap men, then steal their money. He didn't want any of that in his life. He didn't even want a relationship. God help
him, that
was all he needed. Some clingy female cluttering up his space.

He was about to head back to his garage when a shiny new minivan pulled up in front of the Victorian house. Travis Haynes, the local sheriff, stepped out, then hurried around to assist his very beautiful, very pregnant wife down.

Austin
told himself it was rude to stare, but he couldn't look away. He'd known Travis since they'd been eighth graders in junior high.
Elizabeth
was the first woman his friend had ever found happiness with. They practically glowed when they were together. Travis had taken a lot of teasing from his brothers and from
Austin
when he'd fallen for
Elizabeth
.
Austin
wondered how much of their good-natured ribbing had been generated by envy.

As
Austin
watched, Travis hurried off, then returned quickly with a chair. He placed it in the shade and made sure
Elizabeth
was settled before going off to help the others. Another car pulled up behind the van. Kyle, Travis's youngest brother, got out and went to greet his sister-in-law. They talked briefly, then laughed. The sound of their amusement floated to him, taunting the silence around him and making him want to walk over and join them. He knew Kyle and Elizabeth would welcome him. There was certainly enough work for an extra volunteer.

He took a single step toward the house, then stopped and turned back to the garage. With a shake of his head, he banished all thoughts of the people working close by. He didn't need them. He didn't need anyone. He'd always been solitary. It was safer that way – easier to hide the truth from everyone. It wasn't as if he was lonely.

He made a few adjustments on the car engine. The Mercedes required a lot of work, but it was worth it. Like the house, he'd bought it because of what it represented. He didn't care what other people thought of his wealth – he flaunted his possessions for his ghosts. When the mocking voices from the past rose up to smother him, he silenced them with a list of accomplishments.

Sometimes he stared at his investment statements, unable to believe the balances in his accounts. He knew he'd been lucky. His ability to predict trends, to visualize a substance and then chemically engineer it, had earned him independence and a fortune. For whatever reason, God had reached down and touched his brain, allowing him to work his magic in his lab. Several large aerospace firms and the military had tried to buy out his patents, but he would only lease them, holding on to them for the future. He wasn't sure why. Certainly not for his children. He didn't have any.

Unless Rebecca was pregnant.

Austin
straightened slowly. He'd done his best not to think about her. Hell, he'd even considered finding someone else to be his regular bed partner, but he couldn't seem to stir up any interest. For a brief moment he allowed himself to fantasize about the possibilities if Rebecca had been different. If she'd been experienced and willing to get involved with something unemotional and temporary.

"Yeah, right," he muttered, leaning against the side of his car. He had a bad feeling that if she was that type of woman, he wouldn't have wanted her in the first place.

He swore. He'd just admitted he wanted her at all. What was wrong with him? He couldn't be interested in a woman like her. She was the marrying kind. She'd been a virgin at twenty-nine. He wasn't sure he'd ever met a virgin over the age of eighteen before. Most of them were smart enough to stay clear of him. But not Rebecca. No, she'd come calling, practically throwing herself at him. Thinking her sexy thoughts and then staring at him with those big brown eyes. How was he supposed to resist that? It wasn't his fault.

He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was going to have to talk to her eventually. Find out if she was pregnant.

Pregnant. The thought made his blood run cold. Please, God, anything but that. He couldn't bring a child, his child, into the world. He knew what would happen – the same thing that had happened to him. No one deserved that kind of life.

When the horrors from his past threatened, he ignored them. In a few days he would go to the house and they would have a rational conversation. Like two adults. He was probably worrying about nothing. After all, they'd only done it once. What were the odds of her getting pregnant?

Before he could figure them out, a small sound distracted him. He turned toward the noise and saw a young boy standing on the driveway in front of the garage. He wore clean jeans with a blue T-shirt and scuffed athletic shoes. White-blond hair hung down to his eyes. The boy didn't say anything, just stood slightly outside the garage, looking in.

"Hi,"
Austin
said.

The boy looked up. The tilt of his head caused his bangs to fall to the side, exposing big blue eyes. All morning
Austin
had heard the laughter and excited screams of the children as they played. The not unpleasant sounds had reminded him of his time in the Glenwood children's home.

However, the child in front of him didn't look as if he'd participated in any of the games. His expression was wary, and sad, far too old for a seven- or eight-year-old boy.

When the child didn't return his greeting,
Austin
tried again. "What's your name?"

"David."

"I'm
Austin
." He held out his hand. The boy stared at him, then slowly moved into the garage. They shook solemnly
Austin
gave him a quick smile, but the child didn't respond. His face was pale, as if he hadn't spent any time in the sun with the other children.

Something tugged at
Austin
's memory. David. Had Rebecca mentioned the boy when she'd explained why she needed the house? Was he the one who'd lost his parents and sister?

"Am I in trouble?" the boy asked quietly.

"For what?"

"Rebecca said we weren't
suppose
to come up here and bother you. I was just lookin'. I'll go back now."

Austin
recalled the rest of the boy's story. He had relatives fighting over his parents' estate, but no one wanted him.
Austin
knew what it was like to be cast aside. As long as he lived he would never forget his own mother's angry words as she'd dumped him on another relative or friend.

Without trying, he remembered being in her old Mustang. She always made him ride in the back seat, as far away from her as possible. They'd pulled up in front of the house of one of his uncles. He'd tried to fade back into the dark upholstery so she would forget he was there with her but it hadn't been enough. He could still hear the silence after she'd turned off the car's engine, then the strike of the match as she'd drawn it across the matchbook. He inhaled the acrid smell of
sulphur
and the scent of her cigarette.

She'd half turned toward him then, her hazel eyes staring at him, loathing oozing from her as visible as sweat. "Uncle Fred said he'd keep you for a few weeks. I've got to get a job. You're just too damn expensive,
Austin
. Stop eating so much. And don't get your clothes dirty. You're a pain in the neck, kid. When I run out of relatives willing to take you in, I'm gonna dump you completely. So don't screw this up, you hear?"

Her hair had been the same color as his, black as
midnight
Even then, at five or six, he'd thought her beautiful. And very cruel. He'd loved her and hated her with equal intensity. By the time he was eleven, she'd beaten and starved all the love out of him. When she'd finally made good on her promise to put him in a children's home, he'd almost been relieved.

He fought off the memory, mentally flinging it away from him, hating the weakness that allowed him to remember or give a damn. When he refocused on the garage, the boy was already turning away, prepared to go back alone to the new children's home.

"Do you like cars?"
Austin
asked.

David stopped in his tracks, then slowly looked back. "I used to. My family died in a car crash."

He spoke matter-of-factly.
Austin
was appalled. The boy must have heard adults saying the words over and over again for him to deliver them without emotion.

"Are you afraid of them now?" he asked.

David's mouth twisted as he thought about the question. "No. I don't think so. I wasn't there when it happened. I was spending the night with Randy. His mom let me stay with them until I came here."

Austin
tried to imagine what the boy had been through. First he'd lost his entire family. Then, he had relatives who didn't want him, only his money. Finally he'd found some kind of peace at the children's home and the damn building had burned down. It was too much for anyone, let alone a seven-year-old.

Austin
dropped to a crouch. He was close enough to touch the child, but he didn't. He remembered his own distaste when strangers had tried to cuddle him. That kind of affection had to be earned.

"Why'd you come up here, David?" he asked, careful to keep his voice low and friendly.

The boy shrugged. "Rebecca said you had a bunch of tools and stuff. I used to make things. You know, with my dad. I helped him make a bookcase once. He let me put on the varnish." David's thin chest puffed up with pride. For a second
Austin
thought he might smile, but his mouth remained straight.

"Maybe we can work on something together,"
Austin
offered without thinking. He instantly wanted to call the words back. He didn't have the time or inclination to get involved with some kid. Besides, the problems with the estate would be settled and David would be moving on.

But he needn't have worried. David nodded, but didn't look enthused, as if too many people had made promises and then not followed through.

Austin
rose to his feet. "We'd better get you back to the house before everyone realizes you're missing."

"They won't notice until dinner. Rebecca does a head count then. But I'll go back." David glanced up at him, as if searching his face for something. Before
Austin
could speak, he turned and started walking away.

"David."

The boy paused.

"I'll walk you back."

He looked surprised.

"Really?"

"Sure. I don't want you getting lost."

David glanced through the trees toward the house, then back at him. "I can see everyone. I won't get lost."

Again
Austin
dropped to a crouch. This time he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. He met his troubled gaze. "I was making a joke. I know you won't get lost. I'll feel better if I walk you back. Is that okay?"

David's white-blond eyebrows drew together. "I guess." He glanced at the hand on his shoulder.
Austin
thought he might pull away. He could feel the boy's bones through the thin material of his T-shirt. But David didn't step back, and
Austin
wondered if he'd misjudged the child. Maybe he wanted to be held and hugged. His parents had probably touched him. He might miss the contact. Unlike
Austin
, whose only regular physical closeness with his mother had been the back of her hand across his face.

Austin
squeezed gently, then stood up. As they walked toward the other children, he tried to make conversation. "What do you think of the house?"

"It's big. I like the yard.
There's no swings
, though. At the other place there were swings."

"What else do you like to do?"

David shrugged but didn't answer. Before
Austin
could think of another question, he heard someone calling his name.

He looked up and saw Kyle jogging toward him. A deputy sheriff, Kyle was the youngest and tallest of the Haynes brothers – about six-two – with the Haynes-family dark, curly hair and good looks. He was a good kid who had a way with women. As Kyle came to a halt in front of him,
Austin
grinned.

"What's so funny?" Kyle asked. A lock of hair flopped onto his forehead. He brushed it out of the way with a familiar, impatient gesture.

"I was just thinking of you as a kid, but you're not anymore, are you?"

"Nah. I'll be thirty next year. Practically over the hill."

"Time to settle down and raise a family."
Austin
made the observation mockingly.