There was a moment of silence. His father exhaled into the phone. “Is that why you’re making this so difficult? I just want us to spend time together.”
“Why? We don’t have a whole lot to talk about.”
“We’re the only family we have left, Arizona. You’re my son. You matter.”
“You know, Grant, you waited too long to figure that out. I needed you when I was growing up.”
“My father took excellent care of you,” the older man said stiffly.
“He did the best he could, which is more than we can say for you. But you know what he was like. I can’t tell you how many times he forgot I was along and left me behind in some village somewhere. But you never cared about that. You were too busy trying to forget I was alive. Just because you’ve finally remembered doesn’t mean I have to give a damn.”
“We’re family,” his father repeated. “I’m not going to give up on you.”
“That’s your choice. But I’m not going to change my mind.”
“I can be as stubborn as you. Perhaps that’s where you get it from. Have a good trip, Arizona. I’ll be in touch when you get back in the fall. I love you, son.”
Arizona hung up without saying goodbye.
He stared at the phone, hating both his father for wanting back into his life after all this time, and himself for being such a bastard. If only he could just turn his back and have it not matter. Unfortunately it did matter. Too much. To add insult to injury, he almost understood the old man.
Grant Smith had loved his wife with a passion that lasted more than thirty years past her death. Arizona didn’t understand that kind of devotion, but he respected it. If only his father had been able to turn a little of that devotion toward his son. But he hadn’t. Instead Grant had hired a series of nannies to take care of the boy. He’d left the infant and the staff in the large house by the lake and had moved into a small apartment on his own.
Once his grandfather had shown up and claimed him, he’d traveled with the old man from then on. Arizona had been twenty-five the first time he’d met his father.
He leaned back on the sofa and groaned. He couldn’t do this tonight—he couldn’t deal with these demons, too. He didn’t want to be alone. But he was in a strange city and he didn’t have many friends here. The truth was there was only one person he wanted to see right now.
He glanced at the clock. It was nearly ten. Too late to be calling her. Besides, she was still furious with him. Even so, he picked up the receiver and dialed.
She answered the phone on the first ring. “Hello?”
“It’s Arizona. I—” What was he going to say? In the end, there was only the truth. “I need you. It’s not what you think,” he added quickly. “My father called. He wants… Hell, that doesn’t matter. It’s just I never know what to say to him. I was a complete idiot. I’m stuck in this hotel room, I’m alone and lonely and I didn’t know who else to call. I just want to be with you. I want to see you and hear your voice. We’re friends, right? Or did I mess that up, too?”
She didn’t answer. If he hadn’t heard her faint breathing, he might have thought she’d hung up on him.
“It’s not about sex,” he told her. “I swear.”
“Oh, Arizona, you make it so hard to stay mad at you. Yes, we’re still friends. Yes, I’ll come over. I want to talk, but I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that I want it to be about sex, too.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
ARIZONA LEANED BACK against the sofa and sighed with contentment. The remnants of their room service meal had been put out into the hallway. There was still wine in the bottle sitting in the ice bucket and two servings of chocolate mousse waiting for them. This, he thought, was how it was supposed to be. These were the moments that made up a good life.
It wasn’t all about the food either, he reminded himself as he glanced to his left and saw Chloe curled up on the sofa next to him. Before coming over she’d showered and changed into a pale green sleeveless dress. The filmy fabric flowed over her body. She’d tucked her bare legs under her and left her long curls loose around her shoulders. She looked different from the sensibly dressed companion he’d had the previous day on their hike. He liked how she changed to fit the circumstances. He’d thought she was as beautiful yesterday as today and he still believed that.
But what took his breath away wasn’t her attractive features or tempting body—it was the fact that she was here…in his room. He rarely invited women to his room. Because of his travel schedule, he didn’t make a permanent home anywhere, so his hotel and motel rooms were his sanctuary. When he was intimate with a woman, they generally went to her place, or they were somewhere in the wilderness where rooms didn’t really matter. Still it felt right to have Chloe here, with him. She was more completion than intrusion.
“You’re looking pensive about something,” she said, her voice low. “Want to talk about it?”
He shrugged. “It’s not important. I was just thinking that I never invite women up to my room. I prefer to keep all this private.”
“And the outdoors is neutral,” she said.
He glanced at her, but she didn’t look angry. “Exactly.”
“Then I’m honored, both that you would trust me not to violate your space here, and because you called me when you needed a friend.” Her gaze was steady. She took a sip of her wine, then tilted her head slightly to the left. “Tell me about your father.”
Arizona knew the conversation couldn’t be put off forever. No doubt he would feel better after talking about it; he just didn’t want to talk about it now. Unfortunately he couldn’t think of a good excuse to put Chloe off.
“It’s not a nice story,” he warned her.
“Are you afraid I’ll think less of you as a person?”
“The thought did cross my mind.”
She put her wine on the coffee table. “I could tease you and promise that wasn’t possible, but that would be taking unfair advantage.” She paused for a second. “Whatever has happened between us, however complicated it gets, I’ve enjoyed knowing you. You’re different from anyone I’ve ever met, but that’s just on the surface. Underneath all the travel and the unusual experiences, you’re very familiar to me. I think we have a lot in common and I believe we can be friends for a long time. I’ll try not to judge you.”
“I guess I can’t ask for more than that.” Their gazes locked. “Thank you,” he added. “I want us to be friends, too.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “Tell you what. When you’re done talking about your father, I’ll think up something equally slimy in my life and share it with you. Then we’ll be even.”
“Sure.” But he doubted she could match his story. He drew in a deep breath. “My mother died when I was born. Apparently she and my father were deeply in love. They’d put off having children for several years because they just wanted it to be the two of them. But when she found out she was pregnant, I guess they were both happy. After her death, my father withdrew. He hired a nurse and a couple of people to take care of the place, then he moved out. I never saw him. He provided a staff and paid all the bills, but he was not a part of my life.”
He tried to tell the story without thinking about it. He didn’t want to get buried in the details, he didn’t want to think about what it had been like all those years.
“As I told you before, my grandfather showed up when I was three and took me away with him. When I was about fifteen, he answered questions I had about my family. He never used the word ‘blame’ but I understood the subtext of what he was saying. If it hadn’t been for me, my mother would still be alive.”
Chloe shifted closer and took his hand in hers. She squeezed his fingers. “That’s a lot for an adult to understand. It must have been an impossible burden for a teenager.”
“Agreed. When I was growing up I used to make up stories about my father—exotic tales in which he came to his senses, realized none of this was my fault and showed up begging for my forgiveness. Every night I prayed he would come for me, but he never did.” He cleared his throat. “I really cared about my grandfather. He did the best he could and I had some great experiences as a kid, but there were times I longed for a normal family. I wanted to have my own room, toys, friends, and wake up in the same bed for a few weeks. Then I outgrew the dream. I stopped praying my father would come for me. At times I forgot he was alive.”
“I don’t believe you gave up the dream,” Chloe said. “I think you still have it, but now you’re an adult and it’s more complicated.”
“Not at all. In fact—”
She cut him off with a shake of her head. “Sell it somewhere else, Arizona. Of course you wanted your father to come rescue you. We all want to be loved. But you stopped wishing because it hurt too much to always be disappointed.”
He wanted to tell her she was wrong, but he couldn’t. “How the hell do you know so much?”
“Things are always clearer to those on the outside. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”
“I never doubted that for a moment.”
He wanted to pull her closer. He wanted to feel her heat next to him, to wrap his arms around her and find comfort in her nearness. He didn’t. Not because he was concerned she might reject him, but because the need was so intense, it alarmed him. He wasn’t supposed to need anyone. If his past had taught him anything, it was that. He’d grown up in such a way that his dependence had been burned out of him at an early age. Needing someone meant having expectations. That only gave that person the opportunity to let you down. He didn’t need Chloe—he didn’t need anyone.
“What happened next?” she asked.
“He contacted me when I was about twenty. I was in London. He wanted me to come to Chicago and meet with him.” He tried to ignore the hurt and anger welling up inside of him.
“You refused.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes. He was stubborn and kept talking away. I guess I get that trait from him.”
“Did he apologize for what he’d done?”
“In a manner of speaking. He said that he’d been keeping track of me for years, that he’d wanted to get in touch sooner, bring me home, but I was doing so well with my grandfather that he decided not to upset my life twice.”
“Sounds reasonable.”
“It does, doesn’t it.” His tone was sharp.
She squeezed his fingers gently. “You didn’t believe him then?”
“Of course not. He was taking the easy way out. I exploded. I told him that he was about twenty years too late to be a part of my life. I wasn’t interested in him as a father or a friend. As far as I was concerned, he should never contact me again. But he kept at me.” He sighed heavily before continuing. “Finally, I told him what life with my grandfather had been like. I told him about the times I’d been injured or put in dangerous situations. I detailed how my grandfather had often left me behind in strange villages or towns with minimal supervision while he ran off and explored something he considered too dangerous for a child. I told him that I’d been left in the outback with a guide who disappeared and left me, that my grandfather had forgotten where to find me and that I nearly starved to death. I told him there weren’t any words to make up for that. I said I didn’t want to see him or hear from him ever again. Then I hung up the phone.”
He felt uncomfortable with what he’d told her, but there was no way to recall the words. “I did warn you it wasn’t going to be pleasant.”
She ignored that comment. “What happened when he called back?”
“How do you know he did?”
She looked at him. “What else would he do? He called and apologized for all of that. What did you say?”
“That it was too late.”
She didn’t say anything for a while, then she pulled her hand from his. The rejection stung. Arizona had thought she might be upset or disappointed, but he hadn’t expected her to simply turn away.
He shifted to push off the sofa, but before he could, her arms came around him. She moved close and rested her head on his shoulders as she clasped him around the waist.
“You were so young to be dealing with all of that,” she said, her voice muffled against his neck. “Twenty isn’t really grown-up. You had more life experiences than most kids your age, but I doubt you were any more emotionally mature. He’d hurt you for so many years. You just wanted to hurt him back.”
Her understanding loosened the tight band around his chest. He hugged her back. “Thank you,” he murmured.
“No problem. To be honest, I’d imagined something a lot worse.”
“Like what? Felony convictions in several states?”
She smiled. “Something like that.” She kissed his jaw. “I appreciate you sharing this with me. I just have one question. When are you going to let it go? You can’t stay angry at him forever. Yes, it hurts him and in a way you still want that, but it hurts you, too.”
Arizona straightened and pushed her away. “Thanks for the junior psychology analysis, but it’s not necessary.” Irritation battled with disappointment. He’d thought she would understand, but she didn’t.
“Why are you upset?” she asked. She slid away a couple of feet and stared at him. Her eyebrows drew together. “You wanted to talk about this. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have asked me to come over. You know me well enough by now to know I’m not going to keep quiet, that I’m going to express my opinion. Isn’t that what you wanted?”