“Mama said you could always tell a good guy because he’d look you in the eye. Slade’s solid.” With that, Jason turned over and fell asleep.
Bethany sat on his bed, her stomach knotted; and not from the burger. Tayra… she’d been wrapping guys around her little finger from the age of eight, long before she’d grown the breasts and hips that had enslaved men. Bethany had been skinny and serious and had braces. She’d hated her half-sister as much as she’d envied her, and she’d gone the opposite direction.
She’d become the ultimate geek—the computer nerd—who didn’t have any use for guys, except as an occasional distraction in college when she got too bored with exams that never challenged her. But Tayra had known how to pick a guy—how to pick the good guys. Too bad she’d never learned how to stay with them.
Heading out of the bedroom, Bethany left the door open a crack. Jason had woken with bad dreams often during the past week, when Tayra’s illness had taken her back into the hospital. She wanted to hear if Jason started shouting in his sleep.
She found Slade in the living room, puttering around with the ancient TV that Tayra had found at some yard sale. “It’s almost an antique,” Bethany said. “I’ve got my laptop in my bedroom, if you need it or want to watch something. We at least have DSL here.”
Dusting off his hands, Slade stood. He seemed way too big for this house. He made the living room seem tiny, and not just with his size. He had an energy to him, a masculine presence that left Bethany feeling tiny and fragile. She’d never felt any of those things before—those feelings had been Tayra’s specialty.
He glanced around and spread his hands. “I want to help you.”
“Uh…help? As in, fix the TV?”
“Whatever you need.”
Bethany crossed the room and sat down on the couch. She missed her apartment back in Portland, but as soon as Tayra had gotten sick, Bethany had figured she had to move in with Tayra and Jason. She’d put her things in storage and h
ad sub-let her place. She’d also thought about closing up Tayra’s house now, but that would be harder on Jason. He had friends here—his doctors were nearby. Maybe after his surgery—maybe after the dust from all of the legal battles she could foresee settled…maybe after hell froze over.
She slumped lower. “You want to help fix up Tayra’s house?”
He came over and sat down next to her. “We’ve shared burgers. Why don’t we put our cards on the table? If Jason is Brock’s kid, just why the hell was Tayra keeping it a secret?”
Chapter 5
Slade watched Bethany closely. She glanced down at her fingers, laced them together, unlaced them, and put her palms flat on her thighs. He knew she was trying to decide whether to tell a lie or the truth. She looked up at him, her blue eyes clear and bright, and he knew she’d decided on the truth.
“I don’t know. She told me…when she left Brock, she gave me all this crap about how she couldn’t live with the fear that he wouldn’t return from wherever he was, putting his life on the line. She’d married a SEAL—she knew what his life was like. I asked her about that. She said she’d thought she could handle it. I thought all of it was bull. Tayra…Tayra was the original grass is greener on the other side type of person. Then…well, she started showing, had to stop drinking, and it was obvious she was going to have a baby, and I asked her about that. She swore she’d call Brock. Then she said she had called him and he’d told her to have an abortion.”
“Brock would never…”
“I know, I know…you guys are all about honor, duty, country…protecting those you love. I only met Brock a few times—at their wedding and a few family events, but it was obvious he was crazy for her. But I figured that was Tayra’s way of telling me to butt out. Tayra…she…she always knew how to get her way.”
The corner of Slade’s mouth curved. “Yeah, Tayra was good at that.”
“Don’t I know it? I grew up in her shadow. Don’t get me wrong, I loved her, but there were times…”
“You’re guilty. You’re alive, she’s dead, and there were times that you hated her.”
Bethany glanced down at her hands. She didn’t wear a ring, but she rubbed her thumb as if she had one on. Standing, she headed for the kitchen, calling back, “Want something else to drink? There’s still lemonade left.”
Slade followed her. “Did Tayra think Brock would take Jason from her? That doesn’t make sense. All she’d have to do would be to produce a few tears for him.”
Bethany leaned her palms on the counter. She stood in front of the sink window, her head bent, her shoulders slumped. She looked tired. Slade suddenly wished he could make this easier for her, but he still wasn’t sure if this was a scam or not. There were too many unanswered questions.
Tayra keeping quiet about Jason made sense if Brock wasn’t the father, if Tayra had slept around; and knowing what he knew about her, Slade couldn’t rule that out. There was also another possibility, but Slade shied away from that one. He’d push that down to the bottom of his list, for after he’d ruled out everything else.
Keeping his voice quiet—it seemed to him that the walls in this place were probably paper thin—he asked, “Would you object to a DNA test? Or a blood typing at least?”
She turned to face him, her eyes fierce and bright. “Oh, yeah, that’s what Jason needs right now, even more hospital visits. That’ll cheer him right up; since he just saw his mom go into a hospital and never come out.”
Slade held up a hand. “You said he needs surgery. The DNA testing can be worked in with that.”
She shook her head. “You don’t get it. I don’t want him to be proven to be Brock’s son.” Pushing past him, she pulled out a folder from a pile of paperwork on the counter. She held it out to Slade. “I just want Brock to sign this—I want him to give up any rights to Jason.”
“And the money?” Slade asked.