by Jackie Braun
“The company is in the middle of an expansion right now. Since my father is close to retiring, I’m working with the project manager to handle the details and smooth out any wrinkles that develop.”
She didn’t doubt he was busy, but it still sounded like an excuse to her. “You should be getting out more, spending time with people.”
“Who says I don’t?”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Does that mean you’ve found a replacement for Courtney so soon?”
“Would it bother you if I had?”
“Yes.” The reply came quickly and left her blinking. It would bother her, she realized. A lot. In fact, just thinking about Bryan kissing another woman the way he’d kissed her that one time in his foyer made Morgan want to scream at the top of her lungs. Fortunately, her tone sounded normal when she continued. “You told me that things between the two of you were pretty casual.”
“Yes. That’s what I want.”
Because of his divorce? It had to be. Had he been hurt that badly? “Well, I think you deserve more than that.”
He looked mildly amused. “Oh, you do?”
“You’re a good man, Bryan.”
“Are you sure about that?”
She hadn’t been when they first met, but she was now. Oh, he tried to hide it, for reasons that remained a mystery to her. But he was sensitive and fair. The instruments for the community center and the transference of Dillon’s life insurance money to Brice were proof of that.
“Yes, I am. And it doesn’t hurt that you’re also drop-dead gor—”
She ended the description abruptly, but not before he’d figured out where she was heading with it. One side of his mouth crooked up.
“By all means, go on.”
When she didn’t, Bryan turned the tables on her. “What about you? You’re a good person. Drop-dead—et cetera. Don’t you deserve more?”
“I stopped thinking about what I deserved the moment I had Brice. I have responsibilities and obligations. I’m a mother now.”
“Even mothers can get dressed up and go out on a date now and then, Morgan.”
She shook her head. “Not this one.”
“Why?”
The way he was watching her made it hard to think, especially since they were standing on opposite sides of an unmade bed whose tangled sheets had her mind straying into decidedly inappropriate territory. “Brice needs me.”
Bryan’s voice dipped low. It was a seductive whisper when he asked, “Don’t you have needs?”
The question was dangerous. The answer that echoed in her head was even more so. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. What she wanted was off-limits and had to remain that way. Morgan couldn’t afford to be reckless again. What if things didn’t work out? Then what? She would still have to see him. Morgan might not be related to the Caliborns, but her son was. She couldn’t afford to jeopardize things.
So she told him, “I have everything I need.”
Bryan watched her swallow after making that declaration. She’d sounded resolute, but the way she’d stared at his mouth told him something else.
“Same here,” he said.
They were both liars.
It was growing dark when they arrived at the penthouse. Bryan found a spot in front of the building. It didn’t surprise her that he came around to open her door. But it shocked her when he lifted Brice out of the car seat.
“I’ll carry him,” he said when she reached to take him. “That’s if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.” Quite the opposite. She liked seeing Brice cuddled in Bryan’s capable arms as they walked to the building. “You know, I never noticed it before, but you and Brice have the same shaped eyebrows.”
His tugged together. “Really?”
“Well, not when you do that.”
He stopped walking. “Do what?”
“Frown.” Before she could think better of it, Morgan reached up and smoothed out his brow. Afterward, she drew back her hand quickly. To cover her nerves, she quipped, “You do that a lot.”
“Do I?”
“I wonder if he’s going to be able to intimidate people with a mere glance when he grows up.”
“It takes years of practice to perfect. I’ll have to get busy teaching him.”
Though his comment was offhanded, she hoped Bryan really planned to play a more active role in her son’s life. That was what she’d hoped for when she’d stayed in Chicago. That was all she could hope for now.
When the elevator arrived at the top floor, Bryan remarked, “I think someone needs a change of pants.”
“Give him to me. I’ll take care of him.”
“That’s all right. I’ll do it.”
Morgan was aware her mouth had fallen open, but she couldn’t seem to close it as she watched Bryan walk down the hall to the bedroom.
Bryan laid Brice on the changing table and rolled up his sleeves. “Try not to move around too much, okay?”
The baby kicked his legs as an answer.
“Never mind.”
For the past few months, Bryan had gone out of his way not to hold the baby or touch him, even though at times he’d been tempted. Just being around Brice had brought back too many memories, and even the good ones had made him ache. He’d reached a conclusion, though. He needed to face his demons head-on and step up to the plate as the boy’s uncle. This was his brother’s son, Dillon’s legacy, which was why Bryan wanted Brice to have the life insurance money. But money was a poor substitute for affection. Morgan and the baby needed him. A little scarier was the realization that he needed them, too.
“You’ll be happy to know I’m not a novice at this.”
The baby merely blinked at him.
“Hey, don’t look so unimpressed.”
This time Brice yawned and turned his head to one side. Bryan traced the baby’s ear from the folded edge at the top down to the tiny lobe.
“It seems we have more in common than our eyebrows. The Caliborn ears. Mine are a little bigger than yours. Your dad had these, too. If you’re lucky you’ll inherit his ability to make people laugh. He didn’t take life too seriously.” Bryan shook his head. “He said I did that enough for both of us.”
He swallowed then. Missing Dill. Missing Caden. “I wanted you to be his, you know. From the very beginning I wanted you to be his. Just like I wanted Caden to be mine.”
“Bryan?” Morgan stood in the doorway. “I just came to see how you were doing.”
He cleared his throat. “Fine.”
“I can take over if you’d like.”
“No. I’ve changed a diaper or two in my time.” He began unsnapping the blue-striped sleeper, a task made a little more difficult by the baby’s flailing limbs. But he finally managed to remove it, along with the soiled diaper. A moment later he was redressing Brice, who was now cooing happily.
“I guess you have done that a time or two,” Morgan commented.
“You doubted me?”
She nodded. “Sorry. It’s just that you don’t look like the sort of man who’s ever pulled diaper duty.”
“It has been a while.”
“How long?” she asked softly.
“A few years.” Rough laughter scraped his throat. “I guess that diapering a baby is like riding a bike. Once you learn how, you never forget.” He lifted Brice to his shoulder. “You don’t forget this, either. How they feel in your arms.”
“Who is Caden?” she asked quietly.
He closed his eyes. “My…ex-wife’s son.”
“Oh.” Morgan frowned. He could see that his reply had raised more questions than it had answered. “I thought…I guess I thought he was your son.”
His laughter was harsh. “I did, too.”
The story spilled out, haltingly at first as the words were wrenched from deep inside him. Through it all, Morgan said nothing, listening in that patient way of hers, her expression concerned and sympathetic rather than pitying.
“I’m sorry, Bryan,�
� she murmured. Reaching up, she brushed his cheeks. He’d been crying, he realized. The tears should have embarrassed him. In the past he would have considered them a show of weakness. But they were cleansing and empowering somehow. And he felt stronger.
“I wish you’d told me sooner.”
Oddly, so did he. “It’s not something I talk about.”
“Then I’m glad you shared it with me.”
Morgan put one arm around his waist and, pressing her cheek to his shoulder, hugged him. Bryan shifted Brice to his other shoulder so he could hug her back. They stood like that for a long time.
“Can I stay?” he asked quietly. “Just to sleep.”
“Yes.”
As Morgan sat in the rocking chair and nursed Brice, she could hear Bryan moving around in the bedroom next door. A moment later the shower switched on. The sounds were routine, domestic and oddly comforting.
After burping Brice, she laid him in his crib. He fussed before settling down, grunting as he wriggled around to find a comfortable spot.
Morgan patted his tummy and recalled what Bryan had revealed. Her heart ached for him. To have been deceived that way by someone he’d loved and trusted had left a lasting scar. No wonder he’d been so cynical and distrustful when she’d first arrived. No wonder he preferred casual relationships with women like Courtney. Would he ever be willing to risk his heart again?
Morgan kissed her fingers and touched Brice’s cheek before slipping out of the room. She had no business wanting to know the answer to that question.
It was almost nine o’clock when Bryan joined her in the living room. His hair was still damp from his shower. He wore the tan pants he’d had on earlier and a white cotton T-shirt he’d culled from his dresser. His feet were bare.
She’d made a bowl of popcorn and was watching an old movie on cable. “Are you hungry?” she asked. “I can make you a sandwich or something.”
He settled next to her on the couch. “That’s all right. What are you watching?”
“I’m not sure. I tuned in after it started. Want some popcorn?” When he nodded, she shifted the bowl between them.
“You moved the television,” he said. “And the couch.”
“Yes. It made more sense over there. And, well, once I moved the television, I couldn’t leave the couch where it was. I’ll move it back when I leave.”
“No. That’s okay.” He glanced around, nodded. “I like it this way. It’s more…homey.”
Because she didn’t know what to say to that, she asked, “Speaking of moving, when are we going to make the swap?”
He rubbed his chin. “Does next weekend work for you?”
“Sure.” She wiped her fingers on a napkin. “Brice and I don’t have any other plans.”
They finished off the popcorn while they watched the rest of the movie. As the credits rolled, Morgan glanced over at Bryan. He’d been quiet for a while and no wonder. His head was resting on the back of the couch and his eyes were closed. She reached for the remote and switched off the TV. It had been a long and emotionally draining day for both of them. If not for nerves, she wouldn’t have lasted this long.
I should wake him, she thought. Let him settle into the comfort of his bed. And seek out the refuge of mine.
Morgan reached over and turned off the light. In the darkness she felt his arm come around her, stopping her from rising to her feet. She sank back on the cushion, allowed him to pull her closer to his side. Though she told herself to go, she stayed exactly where she was until Brice’s cries woke her five and a half hours later.
CHAPTER NINE
MORGAN was out early Monday morning running errands when the first fat raindrops began to fall. As she hurried to her car with Brice in his stroller the front page of a newspaper caught her eye. The black-and-white photograph of her, Brice and Bryan standing on the street outside the apartment ran four columns wide. She was touching Bryan’s face. Smoothing his brow that was so much like her son’s, she recalled now, though the photograph made the contact appear far more intimate than that.
It didn’t help that the accompanying headline read: Another Questionable Caliborn? This time Windy Cities scion in no hurry to claim child as heir.
Groaning in disbelief, she snatched a copy from the newsstand. Her dread increased tenfold as she scanned the contents of the article. Not only did it debate Brice’s parentage and make insinuations about the character of the single mom who’d moved into Bryan’s penthouse, it went on to rehash the horrid details of his divorce and the painful revelation that Caden was not his son. Given how violated she was feeling, Morgan could only imagine Bryan’s reaction when he learned that his private life had once again been turned into a public spectacle.
She paid for the paper and tucked it into the diaper bag. She had to reach him, talk to him, offer whatever help or comfort she could. Her hair was damp by the time she reached her car. She quickly buckled Brice into his seat in the back and stowed the stroller. Then she swore under her breath when the engine refused to turn over.
“Not today!” she hollered.
Thumping the steering wheel with the palms of her hands, she debated her options. Bryan would be at the office. She needed to find a phone and call him, warn him. Unfortunately, she didn’t own a cell. Yet. She would before the day was out, she decided, making a mental note. She remembered passing an El stop a few blocks from where she was parked. She was a good two miles from Bryan’s office. Mind made up, she got out of the car and retrieved the stroller. Covering Brice up with an extra blanket from the diaper bag, she took off at a run.
Bryan was in a foul mood when he stepped off the elevator. He usually arrived at the office no later than seven-thirty, but he’d had a Rotary breakfast across town, followed by a meeting with bank officials. Then he’d run into a snarl of traffic on State Street. It was almost ten o’clock now and in less than fifteen minutes he had a transatlantic conference call scheduled with the site manager and a couple of other managers concerning the London expansion project.
Britney trailed behind him into his office, going over his phone messages as he peeled off his damp coat. It was pouring outside and thunder rumbled in the distance. Everything they said about Mondays was true, he decided, and that was before he saw the tabloid on top of the stack of traditional newspapers he read each day.
At his muttered expletive, Britney said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Caliborn, but I knew you would want to see this.”
No. He didn’t. But he read the headline anyway and that alone had him shouting, “Get my attorney on the phone.”
The young woman nodded, but hesitated in the doorway.
“Is there something else?” He almost hated to ask.
“Yes.” Her tone cooled considerably when she said, “Miss Stevens phoned you. Twice in the past hour. I’m guessing she saw the newspaper as well.”
Bryan closed his eyes and sighed. To think he’d believed this ugliness was finally over and forgotten. Not only had his past been dredged up, Morgan and Brice had been dragged into it. That just plain ticked him off. Somebody’s head was going to roll.
“Get her on the phone first.”
“I would, but she didn’t leave a call-back number.”
He frowned. “She wasn’t at home?”
“No. She was calling from a pay phone.” Britney tugged at the hem of her jacket. “Not that it’s any of my business, Mr. Caliborn, but do you think Miss Stevens could be one of the unnamed sources?”
“What?”
“In the story. It relies heavily on them.”
“What on earth would Morgan have to gain by making herself the center of a scandal?” he snapped.
“I don’t know. Some people enjoy notoriety and the attention. I mean, she showed up here in labor, burst in on your meeting.” She coughed delicately then. “And it can pay well.”
“You think Morgan sold this story to City Talk for money?” He wasn’t angry, but incredulous.
“I hope not. For your sake, Mr. Cal
iborn. You’ve been through enough of this kind of thing. If there’s anything I can do to help you, anything at all, I’ll be glad to do it. But I felt the need to raise the possibility since so much of what is printed here is, well, inside information. Who else would have known that you were so generously allowing her and her baby to live in your penthouse, even though obviously you were suspicious of her claims about the baby being yours?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You hired a private detective to investigate her sexual history.” At his raised eyebrows, she said, “I put through the invoice Gil Rogers sent with his report last week.”
She also had to have read the report to know what the man had been investigating.
Bryan held up a hand. “Stop right there. I can think of a few people wise to those details, which, by the way, aren’t exactly the facts. That’s why I know Morgan didn’t plant this story. She wouldn’t have gotten things wrong. As for needing money, Morgan is a wealthy woman in her own right these days.”
“She…she is?”
“Yes. But I agree this information came from an inside source. When I find out who’s responsible for this story, and I will, that person won’t be working here. In fact, it would be better for that person altogether if they resigned their position and cleared out their desk before I had to ask them to do it.”
Her face paled beneath her blusher. He had a sick feeling he’d just found his Judas.
“If Morgan calls back, put her through immediately.”
“But the conference call…” Britney began.
He meant it when he said, “Interrupt me, if need be. She’s more important.”
When the conference call from London came, he still hadn’t heard from Morgan. Bryan didn’t like it. Where was she? Had she seen the story? Was she being hounded by reporters? Unfortunately, he had no choice but to wait.
Bryan’s mood didn’t improve as he listened to the site manager rattle on about cost overruns and a couple of snags the construction crew had encountered with local officials.
Rubbing his forehead, he asked, “How much extra are we talking?”