Chapter 10: Don't hang up

On and off, the rest of the week, it plagued him. He wasn't a man that gave up easily, and now that he'd decided Lindi and the kids had to move into a better apartment, he wanted it done. He could deposit the money into her account, but she'd send it right back. She could be incredibly stubborn. When they'd been together, trying to change her mind had led to awesome sex. Rafe cursed himself - every time he thought of her, he ended up thinking about sex. With Lindi. No one else would do. He was strangely indecisive about tackling her about the will again.

He opened the door to his apartment, and for the first time, he realized how silent and sterile it was. The housekeeper left food for him, but she was normally gone by the time he got home. A vision of Lindi and the twins running to him, welcoming him home, taunted him.

Rafe dressed in sweats and a tee. What would make it a home, he wondered idly while he warmed up? Furniture hadn't done it, the eighty-inch television didn't make a difference either. It was just a place where he slept and ate.

He'd never had a home, except for the short time he and Lindi had been together. Then, her small dorm room had felt more like home than the luxury apartment he'd bought with his first endorsement check. He pushed away the answer that wanted to invade his mind. Rafe picked up the basketball and dribbled it around an invisible opponent.

If Lindi and her children were here, he could play with the twins. He shot the ball into the hoop, cursing out loud. Why did every thought come back to Lindi? Those kids weren't his; he shouldn't even think about playing basketball with them. They probably believed he was their father, and getting involved with them would just send the wrong message.

He absently bounced the ball, narrowing his eyes. The twins - he had to make her see that a better apartment would be the best thing to do for them. That was his way in. He turned and shot the ball into the hoop. "Dial Lindi," he instructed, wiping the sweat on his face with his sleeve.

She picked up on the second ring.

"Don't hang up," he warned. With his free hand, he bounced the ball.

"What do you want?" She sounded about ready to disconnect on him again. "What's that noise?"

He let the ball roll away from him. "I'd like to take you and the twins to lunch," he said, trying to sound casual as if he didn't hold his breath while he waited for her answer. He should tackle her about that will. But he could do that during or after lunch.

He frowned. He'd have to do it when the kids went to the play section or something. He'd never had to take children into consideration before. He had no business taking them to lunch, creating expectations that he'd recognize them as his.

"You want to see the boys?" she asked with naked vulnerability. The hope in her voice was painful to hear. He didn't like her sounding like that. For years after they'd broken up, he'd had these fantasies of her pleading with him to accept her and her child. She'd be on her knees promising to do anything for him. In his mind, that "anything" had been spending a lot of time between the sheets, in his car, on his private beach. He almost snorted into the phone. At the same time during the imaginary sex fest, the problem of babies that weren't his had magically disappeared.

"I want to see all of you." Those children, with their scarily intelligent eyes, were her Achilles heel. He clasped the back of his neck. Didn't she know that it was dangerous to expose her weakness like that? The world was full of bastards like him who'd take advantage.

"I want to see all of you," he said again.

Silence.

"What about Chez Paul's," he pressed.

She laughed, hysterically. "You want to take two four-year-old boys to one of the fanciest restaurants in New York?"

He didn't see the problem, but he didn't want to get this wrong. "I assume the answer to that should be no. Where would you suggest?" Maybe she'd invite him over to her place? It would be a start. But a start to what he wouldn't acknowledge, even to himself. She mentioned a place and address, curiously far away from her apartment.