MICHELLE BETHAM
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers
HarperImpulse an imprint of
HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
77–85 Fulham Palace Road
Hammersmith, London W6 8JB
First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2014
Copyright © Michelle Betham 2014
Cover images © Shutterstock.com
Michelle Betham asserts the moral right
to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is
available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are
the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is
entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International
and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.
By payment of the required fees, you have been granted
the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access
and read the text of this e-book on screen.
No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted,
downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or
stored in or introduced into any information storage and
retrieval system, in any form or by any means,
whether electronic or mechanical, now known or
hereinafter invented, without the express
written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © August 2014
ISBN: 9780007596553
Version 2014-09-18
Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.
To my family and friends - thank you.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Michelle Betham
About HarperImpulse
About the Publisher
‘You gonna let me in or what?’
Amber folded her arms and leaned back against the doorpost, her eyes fixed upon Ryan – Ryan Fisher, famous footballer, local north-east hero; a man who’d crashed into her life just a couple of years ago. Even though she’d done everything in her power, at the time, to stop that from happening.
She had a slight smile on her face. She couldn’t help it. Sometimes he just had the ability to make her smile, whether she felt like it or not.
‘You don’t have to bring him something every time you call round, you know.’ She stood aside to let him through into the hall.
‘I know. But I want to. Where is my beautiful boy anyway?’
‘He’s in the living room, and he’s asleep. Which is how I’d like him to stay for the time being. And I’m sure you’d like him to stay that way, too, seeing as you’re looking after him this afternoon.’
Ryan turned to look at her, his handsome face lit up by the widest smile, and Amber felt her heart dance around in her chest, followed by a succession of feelings she couldn’t explain, and didn’t really want. But sometimes, just the sound of his voice – that beautiful, soft Geordie accent of his – it could set off waves of confusion she didn’t always welcome.
For months, she’d tried so hard to fight against everything she was feeling for this man, because she’d never really been sure how much of it was real, and how much of it had to do with the fact she’d been pregnant, and therefore probably slightly more emotionally unstable than usual. But she’d given birth three months ago. And she still couldn’t shake those feelings Ryan Fisher could stir up inside her. He’d been there for her after her split from Jim – the love of her life. Her ex-husband, Ryan’s manager at top-flight football club Newcastle Red Star. He’d helped her deal with everything that came with that, in ways that probably hadn’t been the most sensible course of action. Sex never had been the best form of therapy as far as Amber was concerned. It only led to more trouble. So why did she seem to turn to it so readily these days? But just having him around, well, she’d needed that. She’d needed to have him with her, and not just because she’d been carrying his baby. She’d needed him. Simple as that.
‘You got a bit of time to spare?’ Ryan grinned, placing the tiny t-shirt emblazoned with the words ‘I Love my Daddy’ on the table behind him.
‘Seriously?’ Amber arched an eyebrow as Ryan pulled her towards him, circling her waist with his arm. ‘Do you know how much sleep I’ve had lately? Or how much sleep I haven’t had, that should be.’
‘Well,’ Ryan began, gently nuzzling her neck, his fingers playing with her long, dark-red hair, ‘if we moved in together then I could help you, couldn’t I? I could take some of the load off your shoulders.’
‘Don’t start, Ryan, please. We’ve been over this.’
‘I’m serious, Amber.’ He stroked a strand of hair from her pale-blue eyes, kissing her lightly on her slightly open mouth. ‘It seems crazy, you and the baby living here and me all on my own in that huge new house of mine. I mean, I’m over here most of the time anyway, when you’re not in London, that is, so surely it’d make more sense if we…’
Amber shook her head, but she still let him push her back against the wall. She didn’t put up much of a fight, despite the constant wave of tiredness that seemed to inhabit her body these days, as he sneakily ran a hand up her thigh before sliding it up and under her t-shirt.
‘Jesus, Ryan, do you ever stop?’
‘I’m dying here, babe. All I can think about is fucking you, which is hardly surprising, considering we haven’t done much of that lately.’
Amber looked at him, shaking her head again. ‘I don’t believe you…’
‘What?’ Ryan shrugged as she pushed past him and walked into the living room. ‘Come on! What have I done now?’
But she wasn’t listening any more. She was looking down at their beautiful baby boy. Rico Alejandro Fisher had been born three months ago, just two days before the start of the new football season back in August. With Ryan by her side – although, only just – and a labour so short she figured she must have done something really good in a past life to have deserved that – she’d given birth just after 11am and been home by tea-time, back to a house full of people and all the help she’d so desperately needed in those early days. Days when she’d missed her mum so much, with a pain so physical it almost wore her down. So she’d had no hesitation in giving her son a Spanish name, as a nod to her Mediterranean heritage – Rico, because she liked it, and Alejandro after her Spanish grandfather.
He was the most beautiful baby, and she was all too aware that everybody said that about their own children, but he really was. She could spend hours just looking at him, and there were times when she did just that. When her busy schedule allowed. Because every second she spent with her son was precious.
‘Amber?’
She turned around, folding her arms as she looked at Ryan. ‘You think I don’t want a little bit of relief, too, huh? A little bit of time to feel sexy again because, God knows, it’s the last thing I feel these days.’
She pushed a hand through her hair as Ryan came closer, reaching out to take her hand. ‘You’re always sexy to me. Even with baby sick down the front of your t-shirt and your hair all over the place.’
She couldn’t help laughing, looking down at the floor as he gave her hand a quick squeeze before bringing it up to his lips and kissing it gently. ‘Yeah. Thanks for that.’
‘And I still don’t understand why you haven’t taken up the option of maternity leave. Cloud Sports are quite willing to let you have the time off, aren’t they?’
‘Yes,’ Amber sighed, letting go of Ryan’s hand, folding her arms against her once more. ‘But it’s just not for me, Ryan. And we’ve already been over this. In fact, I’ve been over this countless times – with you, my dad, Ronnie… I’m tired of explaining it. It’s just the way I am, okay? Rico isn’t suffering; he comes with me whenever he can, and between you, my dad, and my wonderful family we’re managing just fine, aren’t we?’
‘Yeah. I suppose we are. But you’ve been working yourself into the ground for months now. I mean, come on, you were back at work two days after giving birth! Isn’t it about time you gave yourself a break?’
‘I don’t want a break. Breaks give you far too much time to think about things.’
She walked over to the dining table at the back of the room and started folding a pile of baby clothes that was lying on it.
‘Like what?’ Ryan asked, sitting down on the arm of the chair next to Rico’s carry-cot.
Amber said nothing for a few seconds. She wasn’t in the mood for some deep conversation; she was way too tired for that. ‘Nothing.’
‘I hate it when you say that,’ Ryan sighed, throwing himself down into the chair. ‘There’s quite obviously something wrong, I can tell. You’re in one of those moods.’
‘One of those…? Jesus, Ryan.’
‘Okay, okay. I’m sorry.’
She couldn’t help smiling, throwing a babygro at him.
He grinned, flinging his legs over the arm of the chair as he held the babygro up in the air. ‘I can’t believe how small he is.’
‘Yeah, well, one day he’ll be as big as his daddy. I’m just hoping that doesn’t apply to his head, too.’
Ryan looked at her, still grinning. ‘You got something to say there, Ms. Sullivan?’
She just smiled at him, nudging his legs down. ‘Right, I’ve got to be somewhere.’
‘What? Already?’
‘Yes, Ryan. Unlike you, my working day is only just starting. You gonna be okay looking after him for the afternoon?’
‘I’m his dad, Amber.’
She fixed him with a look. ‘Alright. I’ll be at Tynebridge if you need me.’
Ryan sat up straight. ‘You’re going to Tynebridge?’
She looked down into Rico’s carrycot, smiling at her son as his eyes flickered open. ‘Hey there, baby. You gonna be a good boy for daddy while I’m out earning us some pennies?’
‘Amber. Why are you going to Tynebridge?’
She reached into the cot and carefully picked up Rico, cuddling him to her, kissing the top of his head as she gently ruffled his mass of dark hair. ‘Because, unless it’s slipped your notice, it’s the derby weekend. And Cloud Sports are showing the game live, as you well know. Me and Ronnie are going over there to set things up. He’s one of the pundits, and I’m presenting… Ryan, you know all of this.’
‘Is Jim gonna be there?’
She nestled Rico in the crook of her arm as she fixed Ryan with another look. ‘I have absolutely no idea. Would it be a problem if he was?’
Ryan shrugged, his manner verging on the petulant. ‘I’ve got to be at the ground myself by six. The boss wants us ready to leave for the hotel by half past. You gonna be back by then?’
‘I’ll let you know. If I’m not gonna make it you can just bring Rico down there. He can stay with me. Ryan, will you quit acting like a sulky teenager? Please? Me and Jim, it’s over. You know that. But I can’t avoid him forever; it’s impossible. So just grow up and deal with it. You know, sometimes it’s like having two kids…’ She kissed Rico again, reluctant to let him go. He was so warm and soft, and he smelt of baby talc, and all of a sudden Amber had an overwhelming urge to just stay there and cuddle him all afternoon. Just one mention of Jim’s name had done what it usually did – change her mood entirely. ‘Okay, poppet. Daddy’s taking charge now, so, you keep an eye on him and make sure he behaves himself.’
‘Yeah, you’re funny,’ Ryan said, standing up and carefully taking Rico from Amber, holding him up in the air and bringing him back down for a huge kiss. ‘Hey there, little fella. We’re gonna have some fun, me and you.’
‘Wear him out, will you?’ Amber half-smiled, grabbing her jacket from the back of the sofa. ‘It’s a busy weekend this weekend and I could do with a few more hours’ sleep. I’ll call you later, but you know where I am if you need me.’
She was about to run out of the door when Ryan stopped her. ‘Amber?’
She turned around. ‘Yeah?’
‘Come here. Please.’
She walked back over to him, watching as he lay Rico back down in his cot. ‘What do you want, Ryan?’
He moved closer to her, resting his hand lightly against her cheek. ‘I want you, Amber. And you know that.’
‘Ryan…’ His mouth was on hers before she had a chance to say anything else, and she gave in to his kiss, she couldn’t help it. Despite everything they’d been through in the past; despite the kind of man he’d used to be, he was giving her a sense of calm she really needed right now.
She pulled him closer by his t-shirt, slipping a hand around the back of his neck, and for a few, beautiful seconds she lost herself in that kiss; lost herself in something she could have, if she wanted it. A wonderful life with a man who’d finally grown up, and he loved her. Ryan Fisher truly did love her. So she could have this, all of it. If she wanted it.
He pulled away slightly, running his thumb lightly over her parted lips. ‘Things are crazy right now, Amber, I know that, but…’
She backed away, grabbing her bag and jacket as she headed for the door. ‘I’m gonna be late. Call me if you need me, okay?’
‘Jesus… Amber!’
She turned around again, but she had no intention of going back this time. ‘I’ve really got to go.’
He looked at her, his hands in his pockets, his eyes locked onto hers. ‘Me and you… what’s really happening here?’
She stared back at him, not really knowing what to say. ‘You know what’s happening, Ryan.’
She knew as well as he did that that was no kind of answer. But it was the only one she had.
*
‘Well, if it isn’t Superwoman herself.’
‘Don’t you start,’ Amber sighed, throwing her bag down onto the couch in the Players’ Lounge before going over to quickly kiss Ronnie’s cheek.
‘Trouble in paradise?’ Ronnie grinned, leaning back against the wall and folding his arms.
Amber threw him a look out of the corner of her eye but said nothing in reply.
‘Everything’s okay, though, isn’t it?’ Ronnie asked, dropping the flippancy.
‘Everything’s fine, thank you. I’m just really busy.’
‘Yeah, I’m aware of that, Amber. I work with you.’
She sat down, pushing her hands through her long, tousled hair. ‘It’s been good, you know? Having him around. And since we found out I was having Rico he’s changed, he really has.’
‘I take it we’re talking about Ryan?’
She nodded, fiddling with the bracelet hanging on her left wrist.
‘Am I waiting for a “but” here?’ Ronnie asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.
Amber sat back, letting out a small sigh. ‘No. Things just feel a bit weird, that’s all.’
‘Weird?’ Ronnie frowned.
‘I’m still getting used to being a mum, Ronnie. Something I never thought I’d be. I’m a mum. And every day I worry about whether I’m doing it right and if Rico’s okay and… it’s hard, sometimes. Especially when Ryan’s going on at me constantly.’
‘About what?’
‘Sex.’
‘Okay.’
She looked up at him. ‘It’s not that I don’t want it, Ronnie… Are you uncomfortable talking about this?’
He shook his head. ‘Too tired, huh?’
‘You could say that.’
‘You sure that’s not just an excuse?’
It was her turn to narrow her eyes as she looked at her best friend. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Ronnie looked down at the ground, his hands in his pockets. ‘I don’t know, Amber. It’s just that, sometimes, I wonder whether you going back to Ryan… I wonder whether it was the right thing to do.’
‘He’s Rico’s dad, Ronnie.’
‘That doesn’t mean you actually have to be with him. Not if you don’t want to be.’
‘Who said I don’t want to be with him?’
‘Well, that’s the impression you’re giving off here, kiddo.’
‘Is it?’
‘Yeah.’
Amber sat forward, pushing her hands through her hair again. ‘I never said we were love’s young dream or anything.’
‘No. I know you didn’t.’
‘But, I needed him, you know? I was pregnant, going through a divorce,’ She trailed off, absent-mindedly looking at her naked left hand. She still couldn’t get used to not wearing her rings. Even though they’d only really been there for the shortest of times.
‘And now Rico’s here?’
‘Hmm? Sorry?’ She looked back at Ronnie.
‘Now that Rico’s here, do you still need him? Ryan, I mean.’
‘Of course I do.’
‘You paused for a second there.’
‘I didn’t.’
‘You did.’
‘Jesus. I’d forgotten how irritating you could be.’
‘He’s here, you know.’
She sighed again, throwing herself back against the couch. ‘Who?’ As if she didn’t know.
‘Manager of the Month, two months running.’
She eyed Ronnie with a look of something verging on suspicion. ‘Shouldn’t we be doing something other than sitting here?’
‘Probably. But I quite like watching you squirm.’
‘You’re such a bastard.’
He smiled, walking over to her and holding out his hand, pulling her up off the couch. ‘You need to sort out what you really want, Amber.’
‘I just want to get on with my life, Ronnie. As simple as that.’
‘There’s nothing simple when it comes to you getting on with your life, kiddo.’
‘Yeah. Thanks for reminding me. What about you, anyway? Any sign of a new romance on the cards?’
‘You’ve got to be kidding me! No time for any of that.’
She couldn’t help smiling as she looked at him, cocking her head slightly. ‘Surely you’ve got women falling at your feet, Ronnie White. Good-looking bloke like you. You’ve still got it, even at your age.’
‘Yeah, okay, enough with the smart remarks. Come on. We’ve got work to do.’
Work. The only thing that was keeping Amber’s mind off the one thing she couldn’t stop thinking about.
*
Jim Allen sat back in his chair, his eyes scanning the computer screen, but he was taking nothing in. His mind was on way too many other things, and for a man who was usually so focused and in control it was a feeling that didn’t sit well with him. But these past few months had been nothing short of crazy. Unpredictable. Painful.
A knock on his office door broke into his thoughts and he looked up from his laptop. ‘Come in.’
‘Hey, Dad!’
Jim smiled at the sight of his son. Brandon Palmer. Twenty-one years old, tall and handsome, and a player with the region’s rival top-flight team, Wearside Spartans.
‘Hey back. What you doing here? Spartans sent you over enemy lines to spy on what we’re up to before the big game?’
‘Well, if I’d wanted to do that I could have sneaked over to the training ground this morning, couldn’t I? No, I just came over to see how you’re doing.’
Jim eyed Brandon warily, smiling slightly as his son perched himself on the edge of his desk. ‘I’m doing just fine. Why wouldn’t I be?’
Brandon shrugged. ‘Dunno. You just seem to have been throwing yourself into your work a lot lately, that’s all.’
‘I’m the manager of a top-flight football club, Brandon. It isn’t exactly a nine-to-five kinda thing.’
‘You don’t take any time off.’
‘I don’t want to take any time off. Manager of the Month awards aren’t given out to just anybody, you know. You’ve got to put the work in.’
‘Is that all that matters to you?’
Jim narrowed his eyes as he looked at his son. ‘Have you come here for any particular reason, Brandon? Apart from to give me a headache I don’t need.’
‘I worry about you.’
‘Why?’
‘I mean, Ellen and me, we asked you over for dinner the other night and you refused to come. You won’t even take a night off to spend a bit of quality time with your own son.’
‘I’m fine, okay? I’ve just got a lot on.’
‘Yeah. You seem to have had a lot on for a while now.’
Jim fixed Brandon with a hard stare, which Brandon returned.
‘Ever since Amber became pregnant. Ever since she took up with Ryan Fisher. Again.’
‘She hasn’t “taken up” with Ryan Fisher, as you put it.’ Jim got up and walked over to the sideboard, pouring himself a small measure of whiskey.
‘So, you’re not bothered, then?’
‘About what?’
‘About Amber and Ryan.’
‘There is no Amber and Ryan.’
‘Oh, really?’
Jim turned around, leaning back against the sideboard, his eyes once more locking with Brandon’s. ‘Really.’
Brandon gave another shrug, sliding down from the desk and heading back towards the door, his hands in his pockets. ‘Okay. Whatever. Anyway, I just thought I’d drop by and say hi, see how you were. But you still look like the same old Jim Allen to me.’
Jim said nothing to that, he just took a sip of his drink and remained silent.
‘Look, Dad…’ Brandon turned around and faced his father. ‘Have you thought about getting out more? Maybe meeting someone else, you know, to take your mind off…’
‘I’ll see you later, Brandon.’
Brandon held up his hands as he turned to go. ‘I’m outta here.’
Jim waited until he’d closed the door behind him before he took the letter from his inside jacket pocket, opening it up and reading it through. One more piece of proof. Another piece of a jigsaw he’d been trying to put together. But he had all he needed now. The ball was very much in his court. And it was up to him whether he chose to hit out or not.