by Regan Black
He rarely pressed for details about her past. Did he suspect something? Unease prickled along the back of her neck. “No,” she said at last. “They have what they need.” If not quite everything they wanted. “Is there a women’s shelter around? They’d appreciate the donation.”
“That’s a smart idea.” He came around to crouch in front of them, smelling of sunshine and autumn leaves. His shirtsleeves were rolled back and his tanned, muscular forearms flexed as he gently tugged on Baby John’s feet. The baby grinned and reached for Fox. “We’d best see how it all shakes out.”
“You seem nervous,” she said. Not the most tactful observation, especially when he had good reason.
“I am,” he admitted. “I don’t want to believe the worst of my brothers.”
“It’s possible the mother didn’t tell anyone she was pregnant,” she reminded him.
He turned that vibrant, sky blue gaze on her. “You’re suggesting that he might be my son after all?”
“You said he wasn’t. I believe you.” She busied herself with the baby, desperate to hide the longing she felt, the nearly painful need to touch him. Every day she spent with Fox she fell a little harder. It went beyond raw physical attraction. His kind and generous heart was apparently a bottomless pit of compassion. The man had taken in a baby that wasn’t his and treated the little guy as if he was the world’s greatest gift.
He dealt with the routine and unpredictable moments with an imperturbable ease. No rants or shouting, no threats or demands like so many of the men in her family. She adored the way he got lost in his work and forgot the rest of the world, until the baby fussed. Then, despite it being her job, he was dialed in and offering help. He might not see it yet, but he’d be an amazing father when he did have a family of his own.
Wasn’t she the hypocrite? It wasn’t her place to put those values on him. If the end-all, be-all of life was taking a spouse and procreating, she should go back to her family compound right now. How did a couple of weeks playing house with one sexy rancher and a six-month-old change fifteen years of hard-won independence?
“Kelsey?” His hand touched her knee, the contact earning her full attention. He had the most remarkable hands. Rough from the physical demands of the ranch, quick and limber as needed for his research. The contact wasn’t inappropriate or unwelcome. The last part worried her most.
“Sorry.” She tried to smile as her cheeks flamed. “You were saying?”
The baby threw himself toward Fox. She understood the inclination.
With a chuckle, Fox picked up the baby and stood. Tucking his phone into his back pocket, he swayed side to side. Baby John sighed, relaxing on that sturdy shoulder, his eyelids already drooping.
“I was asking why you so easily believe me.” He smiled down at her. “Is it that obvious I haven’t been in a relationship lately?”
“Oh.” She gathered up the empty bottle and stood as well, draping the cotton blanket over the baby’s back. “No,” she answered, trying to laugh it off. “It was your reputation.”
“Maybe I don’t want to know.”
Flustered, she explained before the awkwardness got out of control. “It’s more the way I interpreted your reputation. Professionally.” Good grief, she was making a mess of this. “You’re the rock star in quarter horses.”
“For now.” He dipped his head to her. “I have a feeling a younger, prettier star is on the rise.”
He thought she was pretty? Stop it. Straightening her shoulders, she plowed on. “You’re a stickler for the details, analysis and data. When I, um, did a bit of background checking, everyone agreed on that.” She sounded like a stalker, even though she knew checking up on anyone she wanted to work with was an essential first move.
“Being a stickler makes me believable?”
At least he wasn’t shocked that she’d looked into him. “Being detail-oriented makes it hard for me to believe you wouldn’t notice your significant other was pregnant.”
He arched one dark eyebrow. “When I’m working I probably wouldn’t notice a tornado.”
“True, but you also don’t have a reputation as a player in the lab or in the field.”
“Color me relieved.” His features had relaxed. “It’s an integrity thing.”
“You told me the baby wasn’t yours. We might have been new acquaintances at the time, but I know you’re a man of your word.”
His mouth canted to the side. “Saw both sides of that coin growing up.” He twisted, trying to check on the baby without waking him.
“He’s not quite out,” she told him.
Fox kept swaying, his gaze on the mountains again. “My dad kept his word, usually on the wrong promises. I remember him canceling fun plans more than once, but if he told me to do something or else, he always followed through on the ‘or else.’” His voice was soothing for the sake of the baby in his arms. It was a weird counterpoint to the story he shared.
Over meals upstairs and through general conversations in the office, he’d shared several stories of his childhood with Russ and Mara. Him sharing something from earlier was rare. “I keep telling you abusive behavior isn’t hereditary.”
He shrugged.
If he hadn’t been holding Baby John she would’ve given him a hard shake.
“Uncle Russ never struck any of us, and when he made a promise, he kept it.”
“It’s good that you had positive examples and influences.”
“Do you think it’s enough?”
“Look at yourself,” she said. “I think you’re exactly the type of man you’re meant to be.” Embarrassed by the force of the compliment, she opened the main door and then the office door so he could settle the baby, snoring now, in the portable crib in the office.
“He’s a good sleeper,” she said, seizing on a change of subject. “We don’t have to walk on eggshells.”
“I’m still scarred from his arrival,” Fox admitted. “And paranoid after meeting Hudson.”
She clapped a hand over her mouth to smother her laughter. “Now about those results...”
“We’ll get to that.” He stopped at her desk. “I hope my reputation is enough to make up for this.” His gaze dropped to her lips. “Whenever you laugh, my mind goes blank and all I can think about is tasting you.”
“Fox...” She must have dozed off while feeding the baby and was caught up in a daydream. She was thirty years old with a soul-deep crush on her new boss. If he’d declared his undying love for her she wouldn’t have been more shocked. She had no idea what to say or do.
Apparently he did. He moved in slowly, giving her room to say no, to scoot away, to do anything but wait, anticipating...him.
His lips met hers lightly. Sweetly. Almost as if neither of them knew exactly what they were doing. Still, her heart pounded as if she’d run up a dozen flights of stairs. Over and over.
He eased back, his breath fanning her cheek, and she caught herself before she grabbed his shirt and pulled him back in for more. Should she ask why or just accept her good fortune that the man could leave a lasting impression with a simple kiss?
“Your background check wasn’t flawed. I’ve never kissed anyone in the office or a lab,” he said. His hands enveloped hers. “Never wanted to.”
“Wait. Have you kissed someone out in the field?”
“Only a horse or two,” he teased.
Somehow the humor steadied her. “Can I ask why me and why now?”
“I tried to wait until we found the baby’s father. But I didn’t want you to think our first kiss was only gratitude.”
“No worries.” The man was too honest for his own good. “I know what it feels like to be used.”
The humor in his eyes fled and his gaze turned fierce. Protective. She couldn’t recall anyone wearing that expression on her behalf before. “Who used you?”
“Fox.” She nudged him back so she could breathe deeply, without getting a lungful of his tempting, masculine scent. “No one can go back and right every wrong.”
“I’d like to try,” he said. “For you.”
That was almost as shocking as the kiss. “We barely know each other. It only feels different because we’re in a tight orbit while we care for the baby.”
He tilted his head, squinting a little as if she was a report he couldn’t quite sort out.
“You’re about to know my DNA up close and personal,” he pointed out. “Whatever we find out, I want more personal time with you.”
Her heart fluttered. Silly, girlish reaction, but there was no denying it. She was in over her head, logic obliterated with one nearly chaste touch of his lips. That wasn’t a good sign. If she let herself get more attached to Fox, would she be able to do the necessary thing and run if her brothers found her?
It was just one kiss. One desire-sparking kiss that made her want so much more. “Why don’t we table this?” She circled her finger between them. “And take a look at those results.”
“Right.” He walked to his laptop, clicked a few keys and the printer started spitting out pages. He pulled the pages from the tray and handed her half. “Your copy.”
She watched, mesmerized and more than a little turned on when he donned his reading glasses and studied the report. Biting her lip, she dragged her attention away from her sexy and compelling boss.
Despite the kiss and his thrilling declaration that he wanted to explore their personal connection, she had a job to do. It didn’t surprise her that he’d approach this analysis the same way as he did everything else. If the results were clear, his family dynamic might shift dramatically. Since her first day, he’d coaxed her to give her opinion, rather than echo his thoughts or views on a breeding program, a mare’s health, or a test result. She’d worked for researchers who only wanted verification of their theories. Any dissenting opinion was argued away if it couldn’t be immediately dismissed. Fox’s ability to hear other views was refreshing.
The data immediately confirmed that Baby John Doe was not Fox’s son. No surprise there—she knew he’d been honest with her. The more curious finding was that the baby wasn’t fathered by any of Fox’s brothers, either. So why had someone put the baby on his doorstep? Rather than answers, there were now more questions.
She flipped from page to page, reviewing the markers between the baby and the samples Fox and the other men provided. The baby was related, likely a cousin to Fox. That information would narrow his search for Baby John’s family, but by how much?
“Thoughts?” Fox asked without looking up from his own pages.
“He’s not your nephew. I’d say he’s the son of one of your cousins based on the data points we have.
“Mmm-hmm.”
She took the sound as agreement. Stealing a peek at him while he was distracted, she banked the delicious memory for later. He’d propped his chin on his fist and his elbow on the desktop. Add in the reading glasses and the trimmed beard framing his square jaw, and she was quickly lost to a fantasy of straddling his lap and scattering kisses along his neck, pushing her hands into his thick, dark brown hair and claiming his mouth.
Her pulse lurched into high gear and heat flooded her face. Not the place and definitely not the time. How would they find the right cousin? She reviewed the various DNA markers that matched up between Fox and the men he called his brothers.
Seeing an unexpected result, she paused and stared at him again. Had he expected the data to show his biological father was actually Russ Colton? Was this why the nature versus nurture issue lingered at the front of his mind? If so, that didn’t explain why he worried about becoming like the father who physically abused him.
At his desk, Fox started muttering. He must be seeing the same thing. “You okay?” she asked, sidling over.
“Yeah.” He pushed his hair off his forehead. “Based on the markers from the baby and what I know about the Colton family, I’m thinking my cousin Mason Gilford must be the father.”
She counted the sample results. “Did you send a DNA sample from Mason?”
“No.” He pushed his glasses to his forehead and rubbed his eyes. Both his elbows propped on his desk, he cradled his head in his hands. “Admittedly, I have plenty of male cousins. Mason and his wife were struggling to conceive. Then she did the unthinkable and kidnapped his pregnant sister, Molly, planning to steal the baby for them.”
“That’s horrendous.”
“It is. The marriage was rocky before that, though Mason didn’t talk about it much.”
“Rocky enough that he’d have an affair?” she asked.
Fox nodded. “Although that doesn’t get us any closer to how the baby ended up on my doorstep.”
“Does Mason live nearby?”
Another nod. He turned his head, his expression so forlorn she wanted to cuddle him. “He’s head of a new business for the Colton Empire and travels all the time. Maybe the baby’s mother tried his place and came here rather than risk that Mason was out of town.”
“You are well-known and ranches must be tended,” she said.
His lips curved into a weak smile. “And I’m clearly easy to find.”
Was he ignoring the rest of the information in the data sets? It wasn’t her business. He’d respected her privacy about the skeletons rattling around in her family closet. She should show him the same courtesy. “Is there anything else here that might narrow it down?” she asked. “In case it isn’t Mason.”
He scowled down at the paperwork on his desk and froze in place. Glancing up at the family tree he’d brought up on the wall monitor, he mumbled something as he made a note on the paper.
She didn’t want to blurt it out. Maybe he didn’t react because it was what he expected to see. When he mentioned his father he usually referred to Russ. Could this be one of those family truths everyone knew and tacitly agreed not to discuss?
“What are you thinking, Kelsey?”
She wouldn’t insult him by dancing around it. Pointing to the similarities between Fox and his brothers, she said, “This value is higher than I expected across all four samples.”
There. That gave him room to ignore it or explain it.
“That’s not looking at the baby’s DNA.” He frowned at the printouts.
“No. It’s your sample next to Wyatt, Decker and Blaine.”
She saw the moment it clicked for him. His face went slack and a split second later his gaze narrowed behind his glasses. He swore softly. “That doesn’t make sense.” Removing his glasses, he pinned her with his intense blue gaze. “If you were looking at a random test, where none of the people behind the samples were known to you, what conclusion would you have from this?”
He was forcing her to say it. “I would say these three men were brothers.” She circled the data for his brothers on her printout. “And this is their half brother.” She drew a box around his sample.
Fox shoved back from his desk. “And if I say that’s impossible?”
She saw the fear flickering in his eyes, the near panic in the pen he held in a white-knuckled grip. This was a revelation he’d never expected. “Are you okay?”
“Just answer the question.” His voice, flat and dangerous, didn’t scare her. Fox wasn’t the kind of man who would shoot the messenger. She wondered if the same could be said for whoever had kept this secret from him.
Science. He needed cold, clinical facts right now. “With such an unexpected result, I would want to verify the samples were collected properly and no cross-contamination occurred.”
“You know they were collected properly,” he grumbled.
“Yes. The next step is assessing my confidence in the lab and the technicians who processed the samples. Agent Roberts did ask them to rush.”
“He ushered those sample
s through the admin side and made sure they were labeled as a high priority.”
“At the FBI lab,” she finished. “They make mistakes.”
“But not with this.” He stalked away from her and back again, rolling a pen between his palms. Then he stopped, staring at the computer. “A reliable lab and clean samples equal a viable, true result.”
“Yes,” she replied softly, though it hadn’t been a question. She could see his world tilting, crumbling. Everything he thought he knew about himself was wrong.
“I wasn’t raised with my sister and cousins.” He tossed the pen onto the desk. “I was raised with my half sisters and my half brothers.” He landed hard in the chair, his face pale. “Russ Colton is my true father.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his ragged breath the only sound.
She’d never felt so helpless, not even the night she’d run away from home. Unlike Fox, she’d known what she was doing, afraid of the worst and hoping for the best. Inching forward, she rested a hand on his shoulder, gratified that he didn’t shrug off the offered comfort.
He reached up, covering her hand with his. “Thank you.”
“For what?” she asked automatically.
“Not judging.”
She wasn’t sure what or who he thought she’d judge. Not his fault he didn’t know which man was his biological father. Who would hold that kind of thing against a person? “Trust me when I say every family has secrets.”
He glanced up, a wry tilt to his lips. “That’s the voice of an experienced nanny.”
Among other things. “You and I both know the world isn’t a perfect place.”
“No.” She moved as he stood up again. The color was back in his face, but the improvement didn’t give her much encouragement.
“You’re angry.”
“Damn right I am. Someone knew about this.” He massaged a fist with the opposite palm. “My mother, obviously.”
Kelsey didn’t point out the obvious flaw in that assumption. This wasn’t the time to throw shade on the one parent who’d loved him so dearly. “If anyone had known, wouldn’t it have come out by now?” she asked instead. “You’re an adult, out on your own. There’s no reason to protect you from mistakes your parents made. There’s also no reason to dredge up the past or speak ill of the dead,” she added gently.