On the Steamy Side - Louisa Edwards [45]
“He’s not gone,” Lilah insisted, starting to look tearful. “He’s just scared. And you’re not helping.” You big brute was how she wanted to end that sentence, Devon could tell.
Hanging onto his precarious patience, Devon flipped through his wallet for the card Officer What’s-Her-Name had given him earlier. He punched in the number and held his phone to his ear, glaring at Lilah the whole time.
“Officer . . .” He glanced back at the card. “Santiago?”
Out of nowhere, a small body hurtled through the restaurant like a Lilah-seeking missile and attached itself to her legs.
Surprise rounding her mouth to a perfect O, Lilah reached a hand down to Tucker’s messy hair.
“I don’t wanna go with the cops,” Tucker wailed, face scrunched, eyes and nose streaming. Jesus, Devon thought through the crashing adrenaline in his bloodstream. At least the kid comes by his dramatic streak honestly.
“Hello? Hello?” came the tinny, cold voice of Officer Santiago in Devon’s ear.
“Wrong number,” he said hastily, hitting the “end” button on the touch screen.
Tucker, not seeming to realize that he was in no imminent danger of being led off in handcuffs, continued to cling to Lilah’s legs and cry.
Devon watched, feeling helpless. He didn’t much enjoy the sensation.
“Oh, sugar,” Lilah crooned, curling her body over Tucker’s protectively. Devon marked it down for future reference—Lilah Jane was a sucker for tears.
“Where were you?” she continued, her voice soft and low. “We looked and looked; it was as if you vanished.”
Tucker pulled himself together enough to point to the corner banquette. It was a round booth with an oval six-top at the end of a wall lined with regular four-top booths. Devon looked more closely and saw a narrow crevice where the square and round booths didn’t match up perfectly. Holy shit. He wouldn’t have given good odds on a rat’s chance of wedging itself in there, much less a ten-year-old boy.
“Why didn’t you come out when we called?” Lilah wanted to know.
“I thought . . .” Tucker got off his knees and wiped his face with the side of his fist. It didn’t escape Devon’s notice that he stayed pinned to Lilah’s side, though. Like he was looking to her for comfort because he was afraid.
Afraid of Devon.
Smacked between the eyes by that little revelation, Devon almost missed Tucker’s explanation.
“I wanted to wait till everyone left. I wanted to go to the train station.”
“For what?” Lilah asked, bewilderment clear in her tone.
Tucker shifted uncomfortably and crossed his arms over his chest.
The confusion cleared from Lilah’s pretty face. Sympathy warmed her eyes to the color of summer leaves in Central Park.
“You wanted to find your mom, huh?” she said quietly.
Devon locked eyes with his son for a brief moment. That one look told him everything he needed to know.
Without waiting for Tucker’s confirming nod, Devon turned on his heel and walked a few paces away. He pulled out his phone to complete the image of a polite man trying not to allow his cell phone conversation to disturb others.
If he waited through several long, deep breaths before he dialed his driver’s familiar number, well, that was no one’s concern but Devon’s.
Dimly, he was aware of Lilah behind him lecturing Tucker on safety and consideration for others, and reassuring him that he didn’t need to run away. This was only for a few weeks and then his mom would be back.
Devon closed his eyes and blocked out everything but the sound of his own clipped voice giving Paolo the order to come pick them up.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Well, if that didn’t just rip your heart right out. Lilah ran her fingers through Tucker’s tangled waves and tried to get her pulse to stop leaping around like a frightened doe.
Tucker had cried himself out. He sat slumped in the barstool next to hers, lashes forming dark crescents on his cheeks. His head rested on the bar, his breathing deep and even.
Lilah watched him sleep and felt a fury she’d never before experienced welling in her throat like a scream waiting to come out.
The good Lord alone knew what