by Tami Hoag
“N-no—but—” she stammered.
“She wasn’t even in the damn house!”
Trembling, Simone grabbed the back of a chair for support as she watched Jared pace the room like a caged panther. Never in her life had she seen such blind fury. It terrified her to know she was the one guilty of unleashing it, terrified that it might turn full tide on her.
Jared stopped his pacing, his chest heaving beneath his elegant evening wear. Hands shaking with rage, he shoved the photographs back into the envelope and resealed it. For a long moment he stood there, the air around him vibrating with the same anticipation that thickens the air before a violent storm.
Suddenly he swore viciously and flung the envelope to his desktop, sending papers flying. His hands ravaged his short raven hair, and he cradled his head in them as he struggled to rein in his emotions. When he spoke, a fault line of possessive desperation cracked through his rough voice. “What kind of evidence am I supposed to find that shows how much I love my daughter?”
His question hung in the air.
Genna saw his eyes glaze with tears and she looked away, her heart breaking for him. Standing in the doorway was Alyssa, barefoot and looking very tiny in her eyelet nightgown. Her big eyes swam with tears as she clutched her doll to her.
“Daddy?”
Jared was on his knees beside her instantly, smoothing a hand back over her neatly braided black hair. “What is it, baby?”
“Why are you fighting?” One lone tear skittered down her cheek.
Jared tenderly took his daughter in his arms and brushed the tear away with his thumb. He had been on the verge of losing every vestige of self-control; now he struggled to regain it. Alyssa was frightened, she needed his strength now, his reassurance. “It’s nothing, sweetheart. Aunt Simone and I are having a disagreement, that’s all. It’s nothing for you to worry about, muffin.”
Alyssa looked from adult to adult, clearly skeptical of her father’s explanation. A little whimper came from her throat as she cuddled against Jared. “I’m scared, Daddy.”
Not half as scared as I am. I love you so much, he thought as he hugged all forty-two pounds of sweet-smelling little girl and rained kisses over her dark head. God, don’t let me lose her now.
“There’s nothing to be scared of, baby. Everything will be all right, I promise,” he muttered, immediately feeling like a fraud and a liar. “You should be in bed, muffin; it’s late. Let’s go, okay?”
“Come and tuck me and Dollie in, Daddy,” Alyssa insisted, dropping her head to his broad shoulder and sticking her thumb into her mouth.
“Sure thing, sweetheart.”
They disappeared down the hall, leaving Genna and Simone and a deafening silence. Genna would have sat there for the rest of her life without speaking. She wanted to pretend Simone Harcourt didn’t exist, hadn’t violated her love for Jared, wasn’t trying to take Alyssa away. She had tried to temper her feelings with some sense of sympathy toward the woman. Simone had lost her sister; having Alyssa with her was the one way of holding on to some part of Elaine. But the ability to think objectively had shriveled and died inside Genna, and she sat quietly running her palms over the skirt of her dress.
The pressure of guilt forced Simone to speak. “I want only what’s best for Alyssa. She’s my sister’s child.”
“She’s Jared’s child.” Genna said with weary vehemence.
Simone went to the wing chair to retrieve her beige calfskin purse. She took an uneven breath and shook her head as she dug for the keys to her car. “He’s not the man I remember.”
Genna wanted to laugh. Simone had been expecting a cocky quarterback with punk hair and a T-shirt from Chowderhead’s Chowderhouse, as if that had anything to do with the man Jared Hennessy was inside. She could almost sympathize with the woman’s confusion. Almost. “Maybe you just never looked close enough.”
If Simone had meant to make a grand exit. Genna didn’t wait to see it. She kicked her heels off and padded out of the room in her stocking feet. It was late and she was tired, the kind of bone-deep tired that comes after a highly charged emotional battle. She couldn’t help but wonder who had won.
At the door to Alyssa’s room she stopped and leaned against the frame, hesitating. The door was ajar. Her need to see Jared overriding her respect for his privacy, she pushed it open with one finger and peered in.
Alyssa was asleep, curled on her side with her thumb in her mouth and Dollie tucked securely beneath her chin. Jared knelt beside the bed, head bowed as if in prayer as he watched his daughter sleep.
He must have sensed Genna standing there, because she didn’t move, yet Jared turned to stare at her. With the weariness of a hundred-year-old man, he got to his feet and moved across the room. He had tugged loose his bow tie, and it hung like a ribbon of black silk around the open neck of his wing collar.
“Had enough excitement for one evening?” he asked in a throaty whisper, one corner of his mouth lifting fractionally.
“I’m okay.” She sighed. She reached out and fingered a black stud on his shirtfront.
His gaze held fragments of respect, wonder, something more. Finally he said, “Yeah, you are.”
“Are you?”
It seemed to take an eternity for him to gather the strength to shrug. “Don’t worry about me. I can play with pain.” He forced a pathetically fake grin. “That’s why I make the big bucks.”
Genna didn’t smile back. “Don’t bother with the act, Hennessy. We’re a team, remember?”
He heaved a sigh and ran the tip of his forefinger down Genna’s upturned nose. “I remember. If I’d known how rough this game was going to get when I recruited you, I’d have warned you, you know.”
“I know. I wouldn’t have done anything differently. I don’t have any regrets. I’m a big girl.”
“I’ve noticed.” The glimmer of a twinkle lit his eyes in the dim light of the hallway. His hands found her waist and he drew, her close. “Listen, I don’t have a game ball to award you, but I’ll buy you a drink. You don’t mind using Bullwinkle tumblers, do you?”
“What?” she teased. “No Rocky the Flying Squirrel?”
“Sorry. The burger joint’s not offering those until next week.”
With tired smiles on their faces they walked to the kitchen arm in arm for support.
By silent agreement the subject of Simone was dropped. Conspicuous by her absence, they assumed she had taken her evidence and gone home, leaving them alone to sit on the patio holding hands, sipping fine Irish whiskey and listening to the quiet sounds of the night.
“Rise and whine, Sleeping Beauty,” a smoky voice murmured in Genna’s ear. She lay sprawled on her stomach in bed with her nightgown hitched up around her waist and her face buried in her pillow.
“Oven mitts,” she mumbled, squirming into a more comfortable position.
“Oven mitts?” Jared said. He stood back a moment to survey the situation—and the view. He’d had every intention of waking Genna quickly; he was eager to get on the road. But when he’d come up the stairs and seen her enchanting backside presented so invitingly, his intentions had gone out the window. A man couldn’t really pass up an opportunity like this, now, could he? he asked himself.
He pulled off his cowboy boots, dropping them on the rag rug beside the bed, then tried to ease down onto the bed beside Genna. She was taking up too much space and wouldn’t budge. “Hey, bed hog,” he teased in her ear. “Move over.”
One sleepy eye opened and focused on him, and she smiled. She made enough room on the bed for him to settle comfortably, then immediately cuddled up to him and sighed contentedly. In her foggy mind she never thought to wonder what he was doing in her bed or how he had gotten into her house. The important thing was he was here, and it seemed very right.
“Hi,” she said in a sleep-rusty voice which Jared found incredibly sexy.
“Hi yourself, gorgeous.” He smiled. Her hair was all mussed around her head, and she had raccoon smudges
of mascara beneath the bleary blue orbs of her eyes. He thought she was adorable. “You awake?”
“Mmmm-hmmm.” Her hands began to wander over the vast planes of his chest but stopped abruptly. She looked up and frowned at him. “You’re wearing clothes,” she said accusingly.
Jared chuckled. He pulled her head down for a long, hungry kiss as one hand explored every inch of exposed flesh from waist to thigh. His fingers combed through the soft, dark curls that protected her femininity, and he teased her until she was gasping for air.
“Yes, I’m wearing clothes,” he whispered silkily. “Want me to take them off?”
Her hands were already unbuckling his belt. “Let’s just rearrange them. I’m in kind of a hurry.”
“Really?” he remarked dryly as he rose so she could yank his jeans and briefs down. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Quit fooling around, Hennessy,” she groused, her fingers delighting in the feel of his skin.
Jared refrained from pointing out that fooling around seemed to be exactly what she wanted to do. Instead, he rolled her over and made love to her with an enthusiasm she more than matched.
The moment of sweet, hot release came quickly, but seemed to go on and on. Slowly, gasps relaxed into sighs that slid into even breathing. Just as Genna was drifting off, Jared pinched her bottom.
“Jared,” she exclaimed as if she had just noticed him. “What are you doing here?”
“That should have been self-explanatory,” he said, nuzzling behind her ear. “Maybe I’m not doing it right.”
“I wouldn’t worry on that score if I were you.” Her body was still tingling from his touch. He made her feel wonderful … and sleepy. Her eyes drifted shut.
“I came to wake you up,” he explained, disgustingly chipper. “We’re going on a trip.”
“Hmmm? Wake up? What time is it?”
He glanced out the window. “Dawn.”
“Funny, I didn’t hear it crack,” she grumbled, burying her face deeper into her pillow.
“Well, you were … preoccupied.” He chuckled, sliding out of bed and straightening his clothes. “Come on, get up! We’ve got places to go, things to do!”
“Go?” Genna rolled to her back and looked at him with only one eye open. “Go where?”
“Up to the Berkshires,” he said as if she should have known. “An old friend of mine has a farm up there. We’re going to spend the day.”
She sat up, watching him dig through her dresser drawers for clothes. He tossed her a black lace bra, a pair of plum tap pants, and two mismatched socks. “When did you decide this?”
“A couple of hours ago.” He lifted a cream satin negligee out of a drawer by one strap and raised an eyebrow. “It’s all set up. I called him.”
Genna glanced at the clock. It wasn’t quite six. “And he’s still your friend?”
“Don’t you own any boots?” he asked, bent over in her closet. Shoes came flying out in all directions.
Genna popped out of bed, hooked a finger through a belt loop on his jeans, and pulled him out of her closet. “I can dress myself, thank you. If I let you pick out my clothes, I’ll be on Mr. Blackwell’s list, right up there with Cyndi Lauper.”
He sat on the bed and watched her as if he thought she might need help.
“Where’s Alyssa?” she asked, pulling on a plaid cotton shirt.
“On your couch, sound asleep. She never wakes up before seven.”
“Such an intelligent child,” she said, casting a look of longing at her rumpled bed. It had been almost three before she had crawled into it. “So unlike her father.”
As she buttoned her blouse, the question she should have asked first popped into her head. “How did you get into my house?”
“Mastercard,” he replied with a perfectly straight face. “We’ve got to get you a deadbolt lock, Gen. You never know when some sex fiend is going to let himself in here and help himself to the goodies.”
She gave him a look. “Right.”
They drove up into the beautiful Berkshire Hills of western Massachusetts, Alyssa and Genna sleeping most of the way. When they finally stopped, they were at a farm that looked as if it belonged on a scenic calendar. There was a pristine white farmhouse and red outbuildings nestled into the side of an emerald green hill, with woods stretching beyond the pastures.
Jared’s friend, Will McDonal, had been a teammate for several years, until an injury had forced him to retire. He was a big blond man with a quiet manner and a pleasant grin. Neither he nor his pretty, dark-haired wife, Kelly, seemed the least surprised or upset by Jared’s early morning call. Apparently they knew Jared well enough to expect the unexpected, Genna thought.
Jared, Alyssa, and Genna spent most of the day riding horseback on the trails that crisscrossed the woods of the McDonal farm. Alyssa rode in the saddle in front of her father. Jared had politely refused Kelly’s offer to baby-sit, an action that gave Genna a clue as to what this excursion was all about.
Jared wanted to spend time with his daughter. Quiet, special time. Although he refused to say one word about it, Simone’s visit had upset him a lot, Genna thought as she watched him point out a deer to Alyssa. This was his way of getting away from the problem and hoarding memories … just in case.
It was supposed to be a relaxing day. Jared was anything but relaxed, though he tried to give a convincing performance. He was wound tighter than the proverbial spring. Genna could see it in the set of his shoulders, the falseness of his grin. She sensed it in his every movement, tasted it in his kiss. They picnicked on a blanket in an open meadow and, while Alyssa napped, Jared took Genna in his arms and kissed her with the desperation of a starving man let loose at a feast.
Genna made no comment on his behavior. Nor did she try to get him to talk about it. She stayed close to him, offering her nearness, her touch, her quiet support and friendship, knowing that was more comfort to him now than any words she might have said.
They came home that night to find Bernice still at Jared’s house even though it was past seven in the evening.
“Bernice, what are you doing here?” Jared whispered as he carried in a sleeping Alyssa.
The housekeeper held up an ivory envelope. “This came special delivery, boss. I wanted to make sure you got it. I wasn’t about to leave it on that disaster area you call a desk.”
Genna watched Jared lay his daughter on the couch and take the letter from Bernice with a hand that wasn’t quite steady. For a long moment he just stared at it, his face unusually pale. Finally he opened the envelope and extracted the letter.
Jared’s eyes scanned the neatly typed missive, the hard knot of fear in his chest slowly unfurling into ribbons of joy. Relief washed over him, leaving him weak and trembling. His shout of triumph escaped before he could even finish reading the letter, but he had seen the important part, the part that said Simone felt she had been terribly wrong and that she couldn’t begin to express how sorry she was for the pain she had caused. She had had Alyssa’s best interests at heart, but she had seen for herself what that really meant—staying with Jared.
His gaze found Genna’s, and he murmured two words before pulling her into his arms. “It’s over.”
TEN
NOTHING COULD HAVE prepared Genna for the Hennessy clan. Jared had warned her of their imminent arrival. He had come right out and told her they were totally off the wall. But when they descended en masse the week before Jared was to leave for training camp, Genna was positive Tory Hills would never be the same.
She stood on Jared’s front porch, fidgeting. He had insisted she be there when the family arrived. Right off the bat she had thought that wasn’t such a hot idea. She had protested, pointing out to him that he should let everyone settle in and relax before trying to make introductions. But trying to get Jared to see reason when he didn’t want to was as futile as trying to balance Otis Paige on the head of a pin.
So she stood on the porch with her hands buried in the pockets of her khaki
shorts, scuffing up her loafers as she nervously bent her feet over on their sides and back. She wished Bernice hadn’t abandoned her to go bowling; it would have been nice to see another familiar face in what she imagined would be a sea of loony Hennessys.
“When are they coming?” Alyssa asked for the millionth time as she tugged at the leg band of her lacy white panties.
“Soon, honey.” Genna bent to smooth down the girl’s navy and white dress yet again.
“You said that a long time ago,” Alyssa said with a scowl.
“Well, it takes a long time to get here from the airport.”
“What if they never get here? What if they get lost?”
“They won’t get lost. Your dad knows how to get there and back.”
“What if he forgets?”
“He won’t.”
“What if—”
The Dennisons’ burgundy van screamed around the corner and slid to a jolting halt in front of Jared’s house. All the doors opened at once and people spilled out of it talking a mile a minute. Alyssa bounded off the porch and dashed for the group. Genna remained rooted to the spot in frozen shock. Suddenly a grinning Jared grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into the middle of the crowd to make introductions before anyone even made it to the house.
Bill Hennessy, Jared’s father, stood all of five feet nine inches tall and was built like a whip. He had a full head of gray-streaked nut-brown hair which he wore long and slicked back. He was a handsome man. Jared had obviously inherited his father’s short straight nose and strong jaw. Clad in old jeans and a loud red Hawaiian shirt, Bill nodded pleasantly through the introduction, never stopped chewing his bubble gum, and immediately wandered off toward the garage jotting down notes in a green steno pad with a felt-tip pen.
“Dad has lots of ideas,” Jared explained enthusiastically, swinging Genna toward his mother. He nearly had to shout to be heard above the racket. “Mom. Mom! This is Genna.”
Grace Hennessy broke off her conversation with one of the other Hennessys and turned to look down at Genna with eyes so blue they were almost startling. Grace was six feet tall if she was an inch and possessed a magnificent mane of raven-black hair. She wore what could be described only as a “flowing robe,” a long, layered, diaphanous caftan in lavender and deep purple. A trio of wide silver bracelets rattled on her arm as she reached out to take Genna’s hand. Her smile rivaled the sun for brilliance.