Adopted Son

by Warren, Linda

  “Ben, let’s go watch the rest of the movie.” Katie raced back to the den.

  Caroline cradled a fussy Jesse as he rubbed his face against her blouse. “Okay, big boy, give mommy a chance to get her blouse open.”

  Grace was always amazed at how fast Caroline could lift her blouse and unsnap her bra cup. In a split second, Jesse latched onto a nipple. They all watched as if it were one of the wonders of the world.

  “I can’t wait,” Josie said in a breathless voice.

  Macy locked her arms around Zoë. “That’s what it’s all about—life-giving nourishment. Nurturing. That’s a woman’s role.”

  Caroline kissed her son. “We’ll never get our husbands to believe that.”

  “Yeah, but that’s okay,” Macy said. “We love them anyway.”

  “Hey, buster.” Caroline jumped. “No chewing, please.” She lifted Jesse to her shoulder and patted his back. “He always does that when he’s had enough, but since he’s teething he’s started chewing sooner and sooner. I hope he’s getting enough milk.”

  “Look at his size,” Macy said. “I think he’s getting enough. If he isn’t, he’ll let you know real soon.”

  “About two o’clock in the morning,” Elise remarked.

  “Let me have him.” Grace got to her feet. “I’ll put him down for the night.”

  “Ah, sisters are wonderful, even if they wear ironed T-shirts.” Caroline handed over her son.

  “Thank you very much.” Grace gathered her nephew in her arms, glad to escape to Jesse’s room. All the marital bliss was about to suffocate her.

  She gave Jesse a bath and Katie and Ben had to help. Clean and dry, Jesse drifted off to dreamland.

  “I wish we had a baby at our house, don’t you, Ben?” Katie asked, watching Jesse.

  “Yeah,” Ben answered, also watching Jesse.

  Grace touched Katie’s cheek. “Then you wouldn’t be the baby anymore.”

  “Oh.”

  Grace took Katie’s and Ben’s hands and they walked back to the breakfast room. Clearly, Katie was giving the baby idea more thought. Grace knew that she was Jake’s baby girl and obviously Katie had second thoughts about giving up that title.

  For the first time Grace realized she liked kids and she liked being around them. For years she’d thought just the opposite. Facing thirty-five was changing everything about her.

  Or maybe it was something else.

  A man she couldn’t stop thinking about.

  THE MEN ARRIVED HOME. Grace said goodbye and quickly left, having had all of the marital happiness she could handle for one night.

  Driving by Tuck’s she saw his lights were on. Without a second thought, she pulled into his drive way. His ranger car and his silver truck were parked under the carport. Knocking on his door, she waited with her breath lodged in her throat like a cube of ice.

  The door swung open and Tuck stood there in his slacks, socks and a T-shirt pulled out of his pants. Her heart rate accelerated.

  “Grace,” he said in surprise, and the warmth in his voice melted the blockage in her throat.

  She swallowed. “May I come in?”

  “Sure.” He held open the screen door and she walked in.

  Sam reared up on her jeans, wagging his tail. She froze, but realized this was a pivotal moment. What she did now would set the tone of their future relationship. Taking a breath, she reached down, picked up Sam and held him in her arms, forcing herself to lightly stroke him. This wasn’t a normal reaction for her, but she wasn’t sure what normal was anymore.

  Tuck’s eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything.

  “I wanted to tell you again how sorry I am about today.”

  “You know, Grace, you keep saying that and soon I’ll start to believe it.”

  “Please do.” Her eyes held his. “We just had a lengthy conversation about this at Caroline’s.”

  “And the women believe the right decision was made today?”

  “Yes.”

  He scratched his head. “Actually, the guys had the same conversation—all believing just the opposite.”

  “Venus and Mars.” She managed a slight smile.

  “Something like that.” His eyes narrowed. “Are you seceding from your planet, Grace?”

  “Maybe.” They were flirting and she relaxed, enjoying his company.

  “Before you make that momentous decision, how about a beer?”

  “Sure.” She wasn’t fond of beer, but she’d probably drink quinine if he’d asked her. And that really wasn’t like her. She was used to saying no, making decisions based on her ideas and beliefs. This time she made the decision on how she felt about him, a purely feminine decision.

  She placed Sam on the floor and resisted the urge to wipe her hands on her jeans.

  Tuck turned from the refrigerator with two beers, his eyes on her hands. “Go ahead, wash your hands.”

  She glanced up. “It’s okay. Jesse threw up on my shoulder then he got me thoroughly wet giving him his bath so washing my hands seems moot at this point.”

  He set the beers on the table. “I get the feeling you’re going through some sort of metamorphosis. You can freeze water, but it’s still water.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “It means you can’t suppress who you really are.

  You’re a fastidious person. I am, too. So wash your hands and we’ll both be happy.”

  She went to the sink and washed her hands, not having a clue what that bit of conversation was about. Maybe she couldn’t change who she was inside. She just wanted to be comfortable within herself again.

  Drying her hands on a paper towel, she joined Tuck. He sipped his beer, forearms resting on the table, Sam at his feet.

  She slipped into a chair. “Where’s Dee?”

  “She’s mostly an outdoor cat. She comes in when she wants to.”

  Grace took a swallow of beer and stared down at the names carved on the old oak table, a long rectangle that could easily seat ten people. She ran her fingers over a name. “What are these?” She’d noticed them before on her rare visits to his house, but she never had the courage to ask how the names had gotten there.

  “Names of children my parents took in. If you stayed for any length of time, you got to carve your name in a place of honor. That’s what Pa said. Once your name was on the table, you always had a home.”

  “Where’s yours?” She searched the table’s surface. John, James, Dan, April, Beth, Billy, Mike, Judd, Brian, Gail, Nancy, Jimmy, Frances, Hector, Maria, Will, Janis, Cari, Doris, Matt, and the list went on. But she didn’t see Tuck or Eli.

  “I’m sitting in Pa’s place and Ma sat to his right. Eli sat next to Ma and my place was next to Pa, so my name is to your right.”

  “Here it is,” she said excitedly, running her forefinger over his name.

  “I remember the day we did that. I must have been about four. Pa held my hand and said, ‘This is forever, boy. Forever.’ And it was. I may not know my birth parents, but God gave me the best He had.”

  She heard the love in his voice and she was spell bound, wanting to know more.

  “Does it bother you that you don’t know who your parents are?”

  He stared down at the table in silence and she wondered if she’d stepped over the line.

  “Sometimes,” he finally answered. “I didn’t know there was a stigma attached to adopted kids until I was in my teens. Some parents didn’t want me dating their daughters because they didn’t know where I came from. They concluded that since I was abandoned, my parents had to be undesirables with low moral character.”

  “It doesn’t matter now.” She wanted him to know that. “Everyone knows the type of man you are, selfless and giving.”

  “Thank you,” he said, studying the beer can. “Some people don’t understand why I have this dream to help children.” He ran the palm of his hand over the table. “But when I look at these names, I know what I have to do. What I was meant to do.�
� He took a swallow of beer. “You probably don’t understand that.”

  “I understand it perfectly.”

  “Really?” His eyes caught hers. “That’s why your law firm represented the Templetons and believed in the nurturing ability of a two-parent family instead of a single male?”

  She didn’t shift under that burning gaze. “You said you’d abide by the judge’s decision without any ill will.”

  “Yes, I seem to remember saying that.” He got up, crushed his can with one squeeze of his big hand and threw it into the trash can under the sink. He turned to look at her, his hands on his hips. “What are you doing here, Grace?” Suddenly, all that easy friendship was gone.

  By the look in his eyes she knew she had to be completely honest. She had to lay her feelings on this table of honor and see if there was any magic left in it. She stood, gathering thoughts in her head. What she said now would sustain or destroy their tenuous relationship.

  “Ever since I’ve known you I seem to accomplish the amazing feat of putting my foot in my mouth whenever I talk to you. When I get nervous, my mouth goes into overdrive. And you make me nervous. I’ve worked around men most of my life, but you reach a part of me no one ever has, my feminine side. For four years I’ve hoped you would ask me out.” She took a breath as the truths poured out of her mouth.

  “I’ve finally realized that’s never going to happen. You’ve made it very clear how you feel about me, but I kept hoping until I saw the look in your eyes in my office. You really dislike me. And I didn’t feel very good about myself, either.” She looked directly at him. “If I had known you were involved with the Brady Harper case, I would never have taken it.”

  “And now?”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Do you feel the Templetons are better for Brady?”

  “What difference does it make?”

  His eyes darkened even more. “It matters to me. How do you feel?”

  She glanced at the table. “I feel that Brady’s name should be on this table.”

  He walked toward her. Her hair was in disarray, a smudge was on her cheek and a stain covered her right shoulder. Yet, she’d never looked more beautiful. His eyes centered on the T-shirt. I’m a Good Kisser.

  “Is that true?”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t lie about that, but the judge has ruled and there’s nothing else to do.”

  He realized she was talking about Brady. He was talking about the message on the T-shirt. He felt as if he’d just been sucker punched in the most pleasant way. Never, not for one second, did he ever think she might be attracted to him. The first inkling he’d had was when he touched her breast that day in this kitchen. There was something between them. He’d felt it then and he felt it now.

  He pointed to her breasts. “I meant the message on your shirt.”

  “What?” She frowned, glancing down. “Oh.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Is that true?”

  “You’ll never know, Jeremiah Tucker,” she said with a gleam in her eyes. “Good night.”

  He caught her before she reached the door, sliding his arms around her and pulling her close to his body. “I don’t have boots on. Let’s dance.”

  “What? There’s no music.”

  “We’ll make our own.”

  Tuck turned her round and round, hearing music somewhere in his head. Pulling her closer, he molded her body to his. Sam jumped up and down, barking at them. Neither heard the yelping dog. They were in step with a different sound, the music of falling in love.

  Tuck stopped moving and cupped her face, taking her lips softly, gently. She moaned and he deepened the kiss, tasting, discovering everything new and exciting about Grace.

  Her hands curled around his neck into his hair and he was totally lost in a sensation that blocked all his reasoning. He wanted her, just like that day in his kitchen. He wanted her as he’d never wanted a woman before. That scared him. He was losing something he always had—control.

  Taking a long breath, he rested his forehead against hers. “You’d better go while you still can.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to.” Her dreamy, husky voice wrapped around him.

  “Mmm.” He ran his tongue along her lower lip.

  The ringing of the phone was like a douse of cold water.

  “Damn. I have to get it. It might be important.” He released her and moved toward the phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her slip out the door. “Grace…”

  He restrained himself from going after her, realizing they needed time. Suddenly his world was looking a whole lot better.

  That T-shirt was right.

  CHAPTER NINE

  GRACE WENT TO SLEEP with a smile on her face, but by morning the smile had disappeared. Was she going to be like hundreds of other women, waiting for him to call? Sadly she wasn’t too clear on the rules of dating. But she’d read enough magazines to know that one kiss didn’t guarantee he’d call—even though it was one hell of a kiss.

  Last night had been magical, like something out of a movie. She could be heading for a heartache, but she didn’t care. Excitement simmered in her veins and she felt young and a little crazy.

  She quickly dressed in a black sleeveless dress and a black-and-white matching jacket. Brushing her hair, her hand paused. She wasn’t going to spend the day waiting for a phone call. It was a kiss, Grace. Get over it.

  At least they’d reached an amicable peace. She wouldn’t obsess about what happened next. She’d be too busy.

  In her office, she went over her schedule. The meeting with Derek Mann was at two. She needed to talk to Byron before then. She had reservations he might be able to explain.

  Nina buzzed through. “Ms. Whitten, Chuck is here.”

  “Send him in.” This was excellent timing—she needed something concrete to substantiate her doubts, or facts to put them to rest.

  As she waited she stared at the phone, wondering if Tuck was going to call. So much for not obsessing. How was she going to keep her mind on business?

  The door opened and Chuck walked in. His rumpled clothes looked as if he’d slept in them. He laid a file on her desk. “Everything in that file is false. Derek Mann’s career was bought and paid for by Emmett Cavanaugh.” Right to the point—she liked that about Chuck.

  Grace opened the file. “You mean the East Texas oil tycoon and billionaire?”

  “The one and only.” Chuck eased onto the edge of a chair.

  “What’s the connection?”

  “Stepson. Clarissa Perez Mann married Cavanaugh twenty years ago when he was fifty-two and she was thirty-two. Her son was fifteen at the time.”

  Grace closed the file. “Give it to me in a nutshell.”

  “Derek was always in trouble. His father is out of the picture, serving time for a failed armed bank robbery. Clarissa is a very beautiful Latina and Cavanaugh was captivated with her. He wasn’t crazy about the son but they came as a package deal. Derek failed all through Baylor, but he managed to graduate with stellar grades, same in law school. Cavanaugh’s money is all over the campus. Can’t prove anything, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out.”

  Chuck reached for the antacids in his pocket and popped a couple into his mouth. “The last year of law school there was a wild party with drugs in his apartment. He was arrested for rape. The charges were quickly dropped and Mann was moved rather abruptly to Houston. You can guess how he got a law degree. My sources tell me Cavanaugh paid someone to take the bar for him. After that, Mann got some pretty impressive jobs with judges who owed Cavanaugh favors. At the last job, in Boston, Mann beat up a young woman rather badly. Again, the charges were dropped, but he no longer has a job at that firm. That’s been a pattern. Seems no one is immune to the big bucks. It bought Derek Mann a rather impressive career.” Chuck waved a hand, munching on antacids. “Look at the photos in the back of the file.”

  Grace gaped at the face of a battered young woman. The left side of her face was black
, blue and purple. Her eye was swollen shut.

  “That’s what he did to a young clerk in the Boston law firm. She’s now living in Florida in the lap of luxury and Cavanaugh is trying to get Mann to Texas, closer to his mama.”

  Grace leaned back in her chair, never expecting anything like this. “How did you get this information?”

  Chuck rubbed his hands together. “Mostly by asking. My friend at the police station knew an officer in Waco who worked the rape case. I can’t prove much of anything. The records are gone, but where you find Cavanaugh’s money being spent in a big way, you’ll find Mann in some sort of trouble. Mann’s bad news.”

  “Thank you, Chuck.” She leaned forward. “I really appreciate this.”

  “No problem.” He stood. “If you need evidence, it’s gone, especially in Texas. Boston had some, like those pictures, mainly because an officer held on to them.”

  “I don’t have to prove it in a court of law,” she told him. “I just needed to know.”

  Chuck nodded and walked out.

  Her father’s motives became clear now. There had been a lot of changes in Washington and evidently his seat in Congress was in jeopardy. Emmett Cavanaugh’s support and backing could assure Stephen of a win. But at what price?

  Grace did not want Derek Mann in her law firm. And it was her law firm. She had to make that perfectly clear.

  Talking to Byron was out of the question now. She knew without a doubt that Byron was in on her father’s plans. Pity he didn’t see fit to tell her. Anger curled through her stomach. Because she was a woman and his daughter, Stephen thought he could use and manipulate her to his benefit, as always. The meeting this afternoon was going to be very interesting. She was so glad she’d gone with her gut and checked out Mr. Mann.

  Her cell buzzed and she jumped. She was so deep in thought that it startled her. She clicked on, not looking to see who it was.

  “Good morning, Grace.” The deep voice filled her ear and all her anger dissipated.

  “Good morning.” He’d called.

  “You left in rather a hurry last night.”

  “I didn’t want to appear too obvious.”