“No, you love it!” He threw his mitt to the ground and stalked away, Tracy chasing after him, Attila romping as if it were all a game. Several kids watched him leave. “What a jerk,” one boy said around a wad of bubble gum.
“Crybaby.”
“He’s just having a rough day,” Ben told the kids.
“Yeah, so what’s it to you?”
“He’s my nephew.”
“Well, then, your nephew is a jerk.”
“Shut up, Billy!” a big, unshaven man said. “Warm up. You’re after this guy.”
Grumbling, Billy and his friends wandered away.
“I think I’d better stay,” Ben said to Carlie, casting a look behind the bleachers where it looked as if Tracy were reading her son the riot act.
“I know,” she said. The boy needed him. It was as simple as that.
“Tracy’s got some crazy notion that Randy’s got to be the best at everything he does.”
Carlie managed a smile, though she felt like breaking down and crying. “You’ll fix things, Ben. I’ll walk home.” When he started to protest, she placed her palm against his face. “Go on, I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later.”
“At least take Attila with you. I’ll pick him up in a little while.” He whistled for the dog, kissed her lightly on the cheek then took off at a jog, catching up with Randy and tossing his arm around the boy’s slim shoulders. Randy tried to pull away, but Ben kept up with him and Tracy managed to throw one look over her shoulder—a smug look of victory.
Carlie’s blood began to boil, but she gritted her teeth as she started across the park. Attila bounded ahead, scaring birds and chasing runaway balls. Carlie barely noticed because she was thinking of Ben and their one night together. It would have to be their last. Just like before. She was too damned selfish to share him with Tracy and her son, and Ben belonged with the boy.
She’d just crossed Main when she heard a horn blast behind her. Ben’s pickup cruised up to the curb and he leaned over the seat and shoved open the door. “The least I can do is drive you the rest of the way.”
She didn’t argue and both she and Attila climbed into the cab. “How’d Randy do?”
“He didn’t.”
“No?”
“No one, not even God himself, could have talked that kid into finishing tryouts. If you ask me, it was a case of flat-out rebellion. He’s tired of his mom pushing him so hard.”
“So what’re you going to do about it?”
“Nothing I can do. This is Randy’s call.”
“What about Tracy?”
“She’s fit to be tied,” he admitted as he slowed for a corner, “but then she’s got to remember that Randy’s just a kid—no special hero and certainly not his father.”
“She wants you to be his father.”
“I can’t, Carlie.” Ben stared out the window. “I’ll be his uncle. Hell, I’ll be the best damned uncle in the world. He can call me anytime and I’ll do whatever I can to help out. But I can’t be the kid’s dad.”
He pulled into a parking spot beneath a spruce tree and walked her upstairs. “Can I see you tonight? As much as I detest the idea, I think I should put in an appearance at Toni Fitzpatrick’s engagement party.”
“I, um, I’ll have to meet you there. I promised my mother I’d take her and Dad, and since she had to twist Dad’s arm to go, I don’t want to change plans.”
He hesitated. “Hey, look, I’m sorry about Randy—”
“Don’t be,” she said. “Life’s just a lot more complicated than it used to be.”
He offered her a smile that lifted one side of his mouth. “Then I’ll see you there.”