Revival Read online

  He blinked. “Evidently.”

  “Daddy used to kiss Mommy,” Charlotte chimed in, looking incongruously angelic in her pink knit dress and pink ribbons in her ponytails.

  “We talked about this, girls, remember?” Leila said, hoping they weren’t going to create a scenario where Baron would feel awkward.

  “Yes,” Jane said with a patient sigh. “Mr. Baron and Mommy are dating. We don’t know what will happen later. So we have to take things slow.”

  “That’s right,” Leila affirmed, her cheeks warming at having her carefully measured conversations with the girls laid open this way.

  “Do you like to take things slow, Mr. Baron?” Charlotte inquired.

  Talk about being put on the spot. Leila opened her mouth to run interference, but Baron answered before she could. “Everyone likes to take things slow sometimes.”

  The girl frowned. “Not me.”

  “Sure you do,” he replied. “Remember last week when you were learning that new game?”

  “Chess,” Jane piped up. “Yes, Charlotte was very slow at playing chess.”

  Before Charlotte could express her indignation over this comment, Baron went on, “Everyone takes it slow if they’re not sure about the rules or if they don’t know how to do something well.”

  The girls meditated on this truth as Leila hurriedly set the table. “Let’s sit down, girls. Supper's ready.”

  Dinner went well, the spontaneous meal a success, although Jane turned up her nose at the mushrooms and Charlotte refused to eat the zucchini. The conversation transitioned to school—as Baron expressed surprise over their having homework to do at their age. Jane explained gravely that only little girls didn’t have homework. Since they were big now, they sometimes had sheets to fill in at home.

  Then the girls asked Baron about his work, and Leila had some private giggles as he tried to explain business dealings at a six-year-old level.

  When they finished, Leila got up to make the sundaes for dessert. At first, she was too distracted to listen to the conversation at the dinner table. But then a stray comment caught her attention, so she listened in as she worked.

  “But the army couldn’t get into the castle, could it?” Jane asked breathlessly.

  “Sometimes it could,” Baron replied, his voice mild and non-condescending. He still spoke to the girls like they were on his level. “Armies might have enormous machines—battering rams—to break down the gates. Or they might be able to climb over the walls. But it was hard because the soldiers of the castle would fight to keep them out.”

  “So did they give up and go home?” That was Charlotte.

  “Only if they were a weak army. If they couldn’t get through the castle walls, then sometimes they would surround the castle and camp out—bivouac—for weeks and months, so the people inside couldn’t come out to get any food or supplies.”

  “So they’d starve!” Jane gasped.

  “Well, if the ruler of the castle was smart, he would have a lot of supplies already inside the walls, so his people could live inside even with the other army outside.”

  “How did they get water?”

  “They would have wells inside the castle. But sometimes the invading army would lay siege for too long, and the castle would have to come out and surrender, because they ran out of supplies.”

  Leila smiled sappily as she listened to this earnest, informative conversation. If things worked out for her and Baron, the girls would soon become experts in history.

  She could think of a lot worse things for them to be.

  She brought the sundaes out, and the girls shared with her everything they’d learned about castles. They also informed her that they needed to have a water well inside their castle, and much effort was spent in deciding how best to add this feature.

  Before Leila could believe it, it was after nine o’clock. And Leila had to tell the girls that they needed to get ready for bed.

  “I brought a book for you,” Baron said, before they could expression their deep disappointment about being sent away from all the fun. “If you get ready for bed quickly, then I can read it to you.”

  This was all the prompting they needed. Leila and Baron cleared up the dishes while the girls got in their pajamas, washed their faces, and brushed their teeth.

  The book was a gorgeous hardback about a dog who lived in a castle, with incredibly detailed drawings and a fun story. They all piled on the couch to read it, and then Leila took the girls into bed.

  She was tired but absurdly happy when she shut the door to their bedroom softly and went back into the living room to find Baron.

  He was still sitting on the sofa, staring at a message on his phone.

  His expression was stoic, unreadable, but she knew something was wrong. His mood had changed, even in the time it had taken her to get the girls to bed.

  She sat down next to him on the couch. “What is it?” she asked, putting on hand on his knee. Her giddy mood dissipated in concern over the defensive set of his shoulders and the frozen look in his eyes.

  He didn’t respond. It took him a long time to even turn his eyes away from the screen of his phone.

  “Baron, are you all right?” Her chest ached in sympathy, since she could see so clearly that he was hurting. She wanted to hug him but was afraid he’d pull away.

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat and put his phone back in his pocket. “I’m fine.”

  She didn’t believe him, and she knew only one thing that could abruptly transform his mood like this. He was often stressed by work, sometimes so stressed she was sure it was unhealthy, but he’d been relaxed this evening, enjoying himself and interacting easily with the girls.

  Something must have happened with his brother.

  Unable to resist comforting him somehow, she scooted over on the sofa to press herself against his side, folding up her legs as she did. She stroked his belly, leaned her head on his shoulder, and forced herself not to ask for details.

  If she pushed, he would just withdraw.

  After a long stretch of silence, Baron turned his head to press a kiss into her hair. Then he adjusted to wrap an arm around her.

  She relaxed against him, something easing in her chest at this sign of his accepting her comfort. He was warm, and strong, and he smelled absolutely delicious. But sometimes he was as impenetrable as a marble statue.

  “The girls wanted to know,” Leila murmured, breaking the tension with a change of subject, “what kind of food they should stockpile in their castle in case of invasion by a bivouacking army. They thought bread, peanut butter, jelly, and ice cream should be the fundamentals.”

  Baron chuckled, a little distractedly. “Always good to be prepared.”

  He idly stroked her thigh with his fingers, and she cuddled against him and squeezed his side. She didn’t ask, didn’t push for what she was dying to know.

  “I can’t—” Baron’s voice broke slightly so he started again. “I can’t seem to find a way to come out ahead with my brother.”

  Leila kept her body relaxed, made no sign of surprise or relief or reaction to his admission—even though it meant so much to her. “In anything in particular?” she asked softly.

  Baron let out a hoarse sigh, almost a groan. “In anything, I guess. But right now he’s contesting the will.”

  “What? On what grounds?” She was unable to keep her voice from reflecting her surprise.

  “Undue influence.”

  “But that’s ridiculous. He wouldn’t have a case.”

  “Not to win, no. No one thinks he can win. But he can try. He can hold up everything indefinitely.”

  “Does he want into James Coffee?”

  “No. He wants nothing to do with the company. He never has. He wants a share in the rest of Dad’s assets.”

  “And you don’t want to give it to him?”

  “I offered money and a share of the company just after Dad died. Dad and I were trying to find him and get him to come back home
last year, and then a few months ago I tried to…to connect with him again. He completely refused. He doesn’t want to be family. I really wonder if he’s just doing this to be spiteful, rather than because he really hopes he can win.”

  “He’s such an ass.”

  “I know.”

  Leila reflected on this for a minute, realizing this was in Steven’s character. Even as a boy, he’d always waged futile wars, merely to cause trouble. “Could you give him something just to get him off your back?”

  Baron gave a half-shrug. “I could, but I don’t know if he’d take it. And I’m not about to let him win. You have no idea how much he hurt Dad.”

  She knew he’d hurt Baron too. A lot.

  “Oh, Baron,” Leila breathed, pushing a kiss into his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

  His arm tightened around her, but he didn’t answer.

  She paused, fighting an internal battle over whether to ask the next question. She finally determined it was worth the risk. “What caused the big blow-up that caused him to leave?”

  Baron didn’t answer for a long time. Then he finally said, “My dad was old-fashioned. I was the older son, and he always had me in mind to succeed him. He wanted Steven to have a place too, but Steven wouldn’t accept anything but being top-dog. It finally just exploded. Honestly, I’m not sure my dad always treated him…” His voice trailed off.

  “Oh. I understand. So he’s taking it out on you, the way he always did.”

  “I guess. It’s always been a battle between us, and it never seems to ends. That’s just who we are. I was stupid to think we could ever be family.”

  “I wish I could help.

  He turned his head to kiss her more fully, but it was tender more than erotic. “I know you do. Thank you.”

  “So what are we going to do about your brother?” Leila was never as good at puzzle-solving as Baron, and her mind spun futilely over possible scenarios she eventually rejected as unworkable.

  Baron gave her an odd look that turned into an almost poignant smile. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But we’ll think of something.”

  ***

  “Now don’t stay awake too long whispering,” Leila said, giving Charlotte and Jane a final kiss goodnight a week later.

  “We won’t,” Charlotte said earnestly, obviously believing what she said to be true, at least for the moment. “Mommy, can Mr. Baron read us another story?”

  “No, sweetie. He already read you two stories. It’s time to go to sleep.”

  Charlotte frowned but didn’t grumble. Jane, however, popped her head up. “Mommy, are you going to marry Mr. Baron?”

  Leila swallowed hard. She’d hoped to delay this kind of conversation for a little longer. Or a lot longer. “We’ve talked about this, remember? Mr. Baron and I are dating, but we don’t know what will happen later on.”

  “I think he wants to,” Jane added. “He likes to be around us.”

  “Of course he does,” Leila said with a smile, stroking the blond hair off her daughter’s face. “Who wouldn’t like to be around you and Charlotte?”

  Charlotte giggled. “Would he be our Daddy if he marries you, Mommy?”

  “No, baby. Your Daddy will always be your Daddy.”

  “But Daddy doesn’t want to be with us the way Mr. Baron does. He didn’t come when he was supposed to and now we can't go there for Thanksgiving.” Jane was frowning, as if she were trying to think all of these complicated matters through.

  “I know that's hard,” Leila said, choosing her words quickly and as carefully as she could. “Your Daddy just has a lot going on right now. He loves both of you so much, and he is very sad not to have Thanksgiving with you.”

  She was lying, of course, but those were the kinds of lies she had to tell. For her daughters’ sake. Not her ex-husband’s.

  “I guess,” Charlotte said with a dramatic sigh. “I hope Mr. Baron never has a lot going on like Daddy does. I don’t want him to go away.”

  “I don’t want him to go away either,” Leila admitted with a little lump in her throat. “But he does have a lot going on, and we have to be very patient and take things slow, just like I said before.”

  “Okay,” Jane said.

  “I hate taking things slow,” mumbled Charlotte.

  Leila couldn’t help but chuckle as she gave them both one more kiss. Then she turned on their nightlight, turned off the other lights in the room, and gently pulled the door closed as she left.

  She felt a little off-kilter as she walked down the hall and found Baron at the dining room table, tapping out a message on his smart phone.

  He’d worked all day, even though it was a Saturday, and he’d just come over for dinner with them. But he looked almost domestic now, in bare feet with a half-drunk glass of lemonade on the table beside him.

  He glanced up when she entered and smiled at her.

  She smiled back.

  “Do you think they’ll sleep?”

  “Yeah. They’re tired.” She nodded toward his phone. “Anything important?”

  He shook his head. “Just clearing out some email.”

  She was walking over toward him as he stood up. For a moment, they just stared at each other. Baron looked exhausted. He worked too hard. He was under too much pressure. Sometimes Leila was so scared for him, knowing how hard he was trying to do about ten people’s jobs.

  Just because his father had done everything himself didn’t mean Baron had to as well. But he shut down any attempt of hers to suggest he delegate some of the work.

  “Do you want to stay tonight?” she asked, almost surprised when she heard herself ask the question.

  Baron’s eyes were sharp and observant on her face. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded, her heart racing for no particular reason. “Yeah. If you want. I’d...I’d like you to.”

  “The girls...”

  “They’re in bed. They’ll be okay.”

  “I don’t want to confuse them. I can leave early tomorrow before they get up.”

  She liked that idea, but only because it would save her a potentially awkward conversation tomorrow. “You can if you want, but you don’t have to.”

  Baron’s lips tilted up slightly. “I’ll leave early.”

  She grinned up at him, feeling happy now and a little bit foolish. “It’s still kind of early. Are you ready for bed yet?”

  “Actually, I’d like to take a shower, if that’s all right.”

  “Of course. You can use the shower in my bedroom.” She gave an exaggerated sniff. “You do seem a little...ripe.”

  He gave her an unpleasant look while she snickered at her own joke.

  While he was showering, Leila lounged on her bed and pulled out her tablet to check her email. But before she even pulled it up, her phone rang.

  When she saw Rick’s number on the screen, she was tempted not to answer, but she overcame that immature impulse and picked up the call on the second ring.

  It was not a good conversation, and the knowledge that Baron was just beyond the bathroom door made her even curter with her ex-husband than she normally would have been.

  Her impatience rose quickly, and when she heard the shower turn off, she snapped out in a low voice, “Listen, Rick. You’re the one who canceled on their Thanksgiving plans. You don’t get to have the girls for Christmas. I don’t care how much you want to impress your girlfriend with your daddy act.”

  She wished she hadn’t let the last comment slip out. It sounded bitter and petty, and she didn’t like to think of herself that way.

  She interrupted Rick’s objection by saying, “The answer is no. We’d arranged for them to be with me for Christmas. I’ve already made plans, and I’m not going to change them at this point.”

  She was sitting up on the bed ramrod straight and almost shaking with annoyance. When she saw the bathroom door start to open, she said, “We can talk about it later if you want, but I’m not going to change my mind.”

  Returning Rick’s rep
ly with a brusque, “Goodbye,” Leila disconnected the call.

  Baron stood in the doorway of the bathroom with a towel slung around his waist.

  Trying to brush away the unpleasant conversation, she gave him an exaggerated leer. “Don’t you look good enough to eat.” He did. His body was gorgeous, the strong lines and rippling muscles masculine and powerful and incredibly sexy.

  He frowned, his eyebrows drawn together. “What was that?”

  Leila made a dismissive gesture and placed her phone on the nightstand. “Nothing. I’m trying to decide whether I need a shower too.”

  Baron’s frown deepened. “You aren’t going to tell me about the phone call?”

  Feeling irritable and jittery, Leila wished he would just let it go. “It was nothing. Just an annoying talk with my ex. Nothing important.”

  “It obviously bothered you.” He came into the room and sat down on the side of the bed, the towel sliding dangerously low on his hips. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. It’s just...nothing.” She got off the bed. “I think I am going to take a shower. Do you mind?”

  He didn’t answer. Just stared at her with that same frown.

  “I’ll be quick.”

  She closed the bathroom door behind her with a sigh. Baron wasn’t happy with her, but she just didn’t want to get into all of that with him.

  It upset her. And embarrassed her a little—made her feel self-conscious about how stupid she’d been to fall for Rick to begin with. Things were going so well between her and Baron and the girls, and she didn’t want anything connected to her ex-husband to get in the way.

  The stuff with Rick was high-maintenance, and she was trying hard to be low-maintenance with Baron.

  He had enough high-maintenance stuff to deal with already.

  She took a quick shower without getting her hair wet. Then she dried off and pulled on a pair of cotton pajama pants and a white tank top.

  She’d been thinking of wearing something sexy, but now she wasn’t in the mood.

  Baron was working on his phone again when she came out of the bathroom, but he immediately laid it aside and turned around to face her.

  He didn’t speak. Just looked at her with that same frown.