Shooting the Moon. Brenda Novak
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seen him around school lots of times, but he’d never spared her a second glance.
“The name’s Lauren,” she informed him. “I’m sure you never knew that.”
“Why, did I call you something different?”
He hadn’t bothered to call her anything. He was too starstruck by her sister, once they became an item, and too busy flirting with all the other popular girls before that. Someone like Lauren, an honor student, a bookworm, held no attraction for him. She used to admire Harley from a distance, but after he’d gotten her sister in trouble, she’d been glad he’d passed over her. Not that she’d expected anything else. Most guys had preferred her blond bomb-shell of a sister. Audra had been beautiful, popular, fun-loving. Lauren was plain, quiet, studious.
“We didn’t know each other,” she said, “which is why you’ll have to excuse me. I don’t feel comfortable having a strange man at the door.”
“We knew each other,” he said. “We just didn’t know each other well. I wasn’t allowed to come to the house, remember? And I’ve been called a lot of things, Lauren, but strange generally isn’t one of them.”
“That’s because there are so many more applicable epithets to choose from,” she said, unable to resist.
Lauren expected her remark to make him angry, but he simply raised an eyebrow, then gave her that crooked smile of his. “Epithet?” he repeated. “Evidently all those hours you spent in the library did your vocabulary some good, though I doubt it did anything for your social life.” He looked her up and down. “And I’ll bet your excitement factor hasn’t notched up any. Not with you going around spouting things like applicable epithets.”
“Maybe you should’ve spent a few more hours in the library. It might’ve done you some good.”
“You spent enough time there for both of us. Besides, you were always too busy hiding behind your glasses and reading a thick textbook to know what was going on around you, so how would you know what’s applicable to me and what isn’t, especially after ten years?”
“Some things don’t change,” she said. “And some things are more apparent than others.”
“Especially to the gifted Lauren Worthington, huh?”
He said her name in an uppity, nasal tone Lauren didn’t appreciate, but being from the wealthy Southwest side, she’d heard it before. Casting a quick glance behind her to make sure Brandon was still absorbed in his TV program, she lowered her voice even further. “You got my sister pregnant, remember? I know what kind of man you are.”
He laughed, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. If Lauren had been anyone else, someone who didn’t know who or what he was, she would have smiled automatically, despite the animosity between them. He had that kind of charisma. She hated him, yet he appealed to her on a very basic level.
“Last I checked, it took two to make a baby,” he said. “But you must be like your father. He never saw things that way, either.”
“My father was trying to look out for his daughter. He was trying to get Audra out of the mess you got her into.”
“I didn’t need his help. I was willing to take care of my own messes.”
“Which is why you took the money my dad offered you to get out of town and did exactly that, right?”
This time Lauren’s barb hit a tender spot. She could tell by the way Harley’s eyes narrowed and all traces of the smile he wielded so effectively disappeared. “Stick to your books, Lauren. You don’t know anything about what happened,” he said. “But then someone as tightly wound as you wouldn’t. The closest you’ve probably come to love is the definition of it in some encyclopedia.”
Lauren felt her back stiffen. Just because he’d never found her attractive didn’t mean she hadn’t had other boyfriends. Those relationships had never evolved into marriage, but she’d gotten intimate and fairly serious with a couple of different men. Her inability to make a commitment didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of love.
Or did it? Was that the part that hurt most? Had he hit a little too close to home?
Regardless, Lauren’s love life—or lack thereof—wasn’t the point here. Brandon was all that mattered. She’d built her life around him, and she wasn’t about to lose him now.
“Who do you think has loved Brandon and cared for him all these years, practically raised him?” Certainly not her sister, who was never quite the same after her affair with Harley.
“Regardless of who’s raised him, his mother’s dead,” he said, “and I’m here now. I’ve come to collect what’s mine.”
Lauren’s hand tightened on the door until her knuckles stood out. “You gave up your rights to Brandon when my father paid you to leave,” she said, her words a harsh whisper. “You agreed.”
He shrugged, only the tenseness of his body belying his seeming indifference to her words. “So I’ve had a change of heart. Sue me.”
“If we have to, we will. My father’s not going to take this lying down.”
“I don’t care how he takes it, but he’d better get used to the idea.”
“There’s no way he’s going to let you come waltzing into Brandon’s life at this late date and whisk him away from everything and everyone he’s ever known. What kind of father would do that, anyway?”
For the first time, Lauren thought she read a hint of doubt in Harley’s expression and knew, in order to avoid a custody battle, she had to play on it. It was what her father would have done.
“Think about it,” she said. “He has a good life. We’ve given him everything, much more than you could’ve provided. You were eighteen years old and penniless, for Pete’s sake, a product of the inner city, raised in a broken home by an alcoholic mother. It would be pure selfishness to take Brandon away from here—now or in the future.”
She certainly hadn’t tempered her words, but neither had she scored much of a victory if the muscle that flexed in his cheek served as any indication.
“He’ll have what he needs. I can take care of him now.”
“So what?” she responded. “He already has everything. He doesn’t need you.” Lauren felt a flicker of guilt for driving her point so ruthlessly, but she was desperate—desperate to keep Brandon, desperate to protect what she’d established over the past ten years. She might have failed her sister, but she wouldn’t fail her sister’s child. Which meant she couldn’t feel sorry for Harley Nelson. He hadn’t felt anything when he’d broken Audra’s heart, taken their father’s money and left town ten years ago, had he?
Turning, he seemed to gaze out over the lawn, a plush, green carpet that sloped down toward the street beneath a warm spring sun. She watched him look across at the neighbor’s, then examine the porch and shutters, even the red brick of the house. What was he thinking?
“I want to see him,” he said at last.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want to confuse him.”
“Then tell him I’m a friend of yours or something.”
Lauren bit her lip, praying for inspiration. Would she be a fool to allow this? Her head said yes, but her heart had a difficult time with no. He was Brandon’s father, after all….
“Will you go back wherever you came from if I do?” she asked.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“I’m not making any promises, Lauren, except this one. I’m not leaving town until I see him, so you may as well let me in now.”
Lauren didn’t know what to say. Letting Harley see the beautiful boy he and Audra had created might make