More Than Need You (More Than Words 2)

After securing that box shut, I stack it with the others. “One shelving unit down. Five to go.”

Britta glances my way, trying not to look panicked. I can almost hear her thoughts. I have to spend hours trapped in a small room with my half-naked ex I have the hots for? Well, she didn’t think the last part, I’m sure. But it’s true.

“Maybe we should call it a day,” she suggests.

I shake my head. “I have to be productive first thing tomorrow, so we’ve got to finish now. In fact, we might have to stay late. Want to order in some Chinese tonight?”

She looks horrified by the notion. “No. I’m not a naive twenty-year-old anymore. That trick won’t work on me.”

What? “That was never a trick, and we genuinely have work to do before I can set up an office in here.”

“I have to pick Jamie up by five thirty.”

“Oh. Right.” Feeling stupid for not realizing that, I lift the storage unit and maneuver it to the corner so it’s not impeding windows or the door.

I feel Britta watching every flex of my shoulders, arms, and back. “Yeah. H-he has a…um, playdate. At the park, ah… A boy. F-from our…”

She can’t finish a sentence. Since my back is to her and she can’t tell…well, I admit I’m preening.

Once I release the bookcase, I turn to her and brush my hands together. “Neighborhood?”

She swallows and jerks her gaze away. “Yeah. H-he’s been looking forward to this. I can’t miss it.”

A million thoughts circle my brain, but the most cogent is that I want to see Jamie. And this may be my opportunity.

I learned to be a ruthless bastard from the best—my father is an absolute artisan at getting his way. So I consider how I can coax more information out of her about where they’ll be and use the knowledge to my advantage. “Won’t it be dark by the time you get back to Kihei? It’ll be tough to play outdoors. Unless the facility is inside?”

“No. The park is well lit. I’ll watch him.” She frowns. “If you’re thinking that’s dangerous, I’d never let anything happen to him.”

“Hey, I have no doubt you’re a great mom.” I’m in no way accusing her of endangering or neglecting him. Hell, that’s the last thing I’m thinking.

“I really have tried.”

“Some years might separate us, angel. But I know you always give your all to the people you love.”

Why the fuck couldn’t I remember that when it counted most?

“I take good care of him, Griff. I always will.”

“I’m sure.” I brace my forearm across the top of an empty box and sidle closer. “Let me go with you tonight, meet Jamie. We don’t have to tell him who I am yet. We can—”

She’s already shaking her head. “He’s not ready.”

“You’re not ready,” I accuse, then bite back my frustration and a whole bunch of words I’ll regret.

“It’s been less than twenty-four hours since you crashed back into my life. I haven’t had time to decide what’s best for my son or figure out who you are now. I…” She frowns at me like she’s grappling to cope. “I’m not convinced you’re ready to be a father or that you wouldn’t walk out again. Or try to take Jamie from me.”

I shake my head. “You’re his mother. He needs you.”

“He does,” she agrees. “But you should understand that trust, once broken, is never easy to mend.”

Yes, of all people, I know that.

She turns away. I can’t argue with her when she’s right.

But that’s not going to stop me.

CHAPTER FOUR

Britta spends the rest of the afternoon trying to ignore me. I lay off teasing her because she obviously has a lot on her mind. Watching her eat me up with her hungry little stare was fun and informational. But I’ve given her a reminder of the crazy-strong pull between us. Now I have to focus on Jamie and finagling a way to meet him. Then I’ll work on a future with his mother.

By four, we manage to clear out all the binders and box them up. Maxon only puts up a small fight when I tell him I’ve arranged for a document imaging and management company to haul the paperwork away in the morning. With his grudging consent, I also post the shelving on Craigslist and I’m not surprised to start getting inquiries within minutes.

As I’m organizing the long table like a desk, Maxon strolls in and shuts the door behind him. “Looking good. Wow, I’d forgotten how much light comes through these windows.”

“Yeah, caveman. The chiseling on stone tablets is so two millennia ago.”

“Ha ha.” He sends me a sour glare. “When it comes to record keeping, I’m particular.”

“Dude, you were one binder short of starring in an episode of Hoarders.”

“At least I had my documentation at my fingertips and I didn’t have to call someone else to look up a file.”

“Which works out great…unless there’s a fire or a flood.”

Maxon doesn’t have a comeback for that. “Thanks for your analysis, Chicken Little. Looks like you’re all settled in. Would you rather have your own desk?”

“Eventually. There’s no rush. This works for now.”

“Except Britta might want her dining room table back. When we turned this into our ‘war room’ a couple of weeks ago, she let us borrow it.”

I glance at her across the office. She’s gathering her things at her desk, her profile tense. She’s trying not to look my way, even though I’m wearing my shirt again…mostly.

“She didn’t tell me it belonged to her.” But the wheels in my head are already turning. She’ll get her table back. In fact, I’ll be more than happy to deliver it to her house myself.

My brother sends me a suspicious stare. “That smile scares me.”

“What?” I ask as innocently as I’m capable of sounding. “I’m just thinking of ways to be helpful.”

“And you have no other motive. Right…” Maxon grunts. “Did the time alone with her this afternoon help you two?”

I shrug. “I think. We’ll see. Thanks for being there during Jamie’s birth.”

He nods. “I was happy to. And don’t change the subject. What’s the plan running around in your head? Don’t insult me by saying you don’t have one.”

Britta turns off her computer and yanks one of her desk drawers open, retrieving her red purse. After gathering up her bridal magazines and tape flags, she approaches Rob and says something that makes him smile. Then she sends a wave in my brother’s general direction and doesn’t acknowledge me.

I look at my phone. It’s five fifteen.

“Bye, angel,” I yank the door open and call across the office to her.

She shuts the door behind her without replying.

Through the window, I watch her pull out of the lot in her white family sedan and onto the street. “Jamie has a playdate with a kid in their neighborhood. Tell me everything you know about where she might take him.”

“You going to crash and see Jamie?”

Smart question. “I have to. Even if I don’t get to meet him, the fact that I’ve never clapped eyes on my own son is killing me.”

Maxon groans. “I know that sucks, but you’ve got to stop trying to make me a Judas.”