Confessions: He's The Rich Boy / He's My Soldier Boy

“For now.”

“The whole mill?” Bobby asked, obviously impressed.

Before Hayden could reply, John said, “My dad says that the owner of the place is a goddamned mean son of a—”

“John!” Nadine cried.

“Your dad is right,” Hayden replied with a glint in his eye.

John’s forehead creased into a frown.

“Hayden just inherited the mill from his father,” Nadine guessed, glancing at Hayden for reassurance. “He hasn’t owned it all that long. Daddy wasn’t talking about him.”

“You don’t like your dad?” Bobby wanted to know, and Nadine sent up a silent prayer. She didn’t want to get involved with Hayden, didn’t want her children feeling comfortable with him, didn’t want to know anything about his life.

“My dad’s gone,” Hayden said flatly. Then, as if seeing that the boy was still confused, he added, “We didn’t get along all that well. Never saw eye to eye.”

“My dad’s the greatest!” John said proudly as he threw his mother a defiant look.

Hayden’s lips turned down a fraction. “That’s how it should be.”

Satisfied that he’d made his point, John waved to his brother. “C’mon, Bobby. Let’s check out the boat!” John was already running down to the dock.

“Be careful. Don’t touch any—”

Hayden’s hand clamped over her shoulder and she gasped. “They’ll be fine,” he said. “No need to overmother them.”

“But—”

“I’ll wager they know how to handle a boat and what to steer clear of.”

“You don’t even know my boys,” she shot back indignantly.

“Maybe not. But I do know about mothers who are overprotective.”

His hand was still resting upon her shoulder, but she shrugged the warm palm away from her. “It’s none of your business how I raise my children, Hayden,” she said crossly.

“Just a little free advice.”

“Then it’s worth exactly what I paid for it—nothing.”

“Boys need to explore, check things out.”

“Is this something you’ve read or are you talking from experience?”

“I was a boy once.”

“I know,” she said, her heart thumping unnaturally. “I remember.”

His gaze sliced into hers, and though he didn’t say a word, the air seemed charged with silent accusations. To her disbelief she realized again that he seemed to be holding a grudge against her. As if in that faraway other lifetime she’d wronged him! As if he and his father hadn’t altered irrevocably the direction of her life! As if he hadn’t walked away from her and never so much as cast a glance back over his shoulder! Her insides were shredding, and she bit down on her lip so that she wouldn’t start throwing angry accusations his way.

Standing on the porch, being so close to him was awkward. Being near him was uncomfortable. And yet she had to be polite. He was, after all, her boss as well as her ex-husband’s employer. She dragged an invitation over her tongue. “If you’re not worried about the boys damaging your boat, why don’t you come in and have a cup of coffee?”

His dark brow arched. “Your husband won’t mind?”

“Not at all,” she replied quickly, and decided not to tell him that she was divorced. Not yet.