by Cate Beauman
She wrinkled her nose as she looked at him. “She may have mentioned that.”
He grinned. “I bet she did. Is this a tag-team deal?”
She laughed. “I look at it more as a ‘you need furniture in your beautiful living room’ deal. I mean look at your view. It’s killer.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Smooth operator.”
She shrugged. “And what about a couple of herb pots in your kitchen window? And that spot over there in the corner would be perfect for a Christmas tree.”
“I’m not here enough for plants, Jules. I’m usually gone two or three weeks out of the month.”
She scooped up a shred of chicken. “That’s a lot.”
“I’ve never had much of a reason to stick around. If you’re going to be flying in now and again, that’ll change.”
“How’s Ethan going to feel about that?”
He shrugged with his wineglass in his hand. “He’ll adjust. I work well over my contract. He and I both know it.”
She dug into her salad. “I don’t want to cause problems for you at work.”
“You’re not.” He scooped up more of the golden biscuit. “Besides, I like this—coming home to another car in the driveway, sitting next to you eating a meal, falling asleep with you every night.” He set down his fork and took her hand, kissing her knuckles. “I like taking you to bed.”
Her heart kicked up a beat, and she smiled as he nipped at her fingers, recognizing the edgy passion heating his gray eyes.
“And waking up with you naked and smelling my cologne on your skin,” he continued, standing and pulling her out of her chair.
“It’s certainly not bad,” she agreed, tugging on his tie, letting it fall on the floor.
He kissed her. “Maybe you can show me the rug you’re talking about.”
“I took a picture with my phone.” She unbuttoned his shirt, letting him walk her backward toward the bedroom. “And I wrote down the websites Wren suggested for furnishing that would look good in the space—two or three options.”
He lifted her sweater over her head and tossed it down. “I definitely think I’m getting bamboozled.”
She kissed his chest, sliding her fingertips down his abs. “It’ll look great. And just think of all the new furniture we would have to christen—the rug, the couch, the chairs.”
He raised his brow. “When you put it that way…”
Chuckling, she pulled his mouth back to hers, ready, eager for Chase to take her to bed. She fought with his belt buckle, then the snap on his pants.
“It’s been awhile since I’ve made you scream, Jules,” he panted out, making quick work of her bra. “I want to make you scream.”
She moaned in anticipation and attacked his neck with her lips and teeth as he gripped her ass and grinded them heat-to-heat. “Make me scream,” she whispered next to his ear. “I want you to make me scream.”
He clenched his jaw and fell to the bed with her as his phone started ringing. “Damn it.”
“Ignore it.” She rubbed her palm against his erection. “Ignore it, Chase.”
“You have no idea how much I want to, but I’m on call tonight.”
“So talk and I’ll finish undressing you.” She pulled down his zipper and yanked on his pants.
“Sounds like a plan.” He grabbed his phone. “Hello?”
She reached inside his boxers, gripping him, and he pulled away.
“Hold on,” he whispered and turned. “Already? That’s great.”
Her breath heaved as she sat where she was, ready to explode with want, waiting for him to finish.
He fixed his underwear and stood. “Can you scan over the results? This is great, Mandy. Really. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. Thanks.” He hung up and faced Julie.
She smiled, snagging her lip between her teeth as she slid out of her panties. “Everything okay?”
He crawled back onto the bed. “That was Mandy.”
She took his hand, settling his palm against her. “I heard.”
“From the FBI.” He pulled free of her grip and tugged her underwear back up her legs and over her hips. “I had her run a DNA profile on you and Neve.”
“What?” Sex was forgotten as she frowned and sat up. “How did you do that?”
“I took Neve’s hairbrush from her bathroom and overnighted it to Mandy from work yesterday morning. Preliminary results are back. There’s a ninety-nine point nine-nine percent probability that you’re Neve’s daughter.”
She swallowed, digesting the news. “Neve’s my mother.”
He sat next to her. “There’s only a hundredth of a percent chance she’s not.”
“I knew what the results would say. We all did, but…” She shook her head, trying to think of how to put her messy mix of emotions into words. “Miranda took me. We knew that too, but I can never ever deny the fact that she stole me from my parents and lied to her own.”
He took her hand, pressing it to his cheek. “We’re still working on that end of things.”
“So what do we do now?”
“Contact the lawyer Ethan and I were talking about today and get the ball rolling with Noah.”
“Will the tests be considered valid?”
“Probably not. We didn’t follow proper chain of custody, but Mandy’s going to run the tests two more times to prove without a doubt that you’re Alyson Porter. I’m hoping the results will at least compel a judge to let us get our hands on the samples they have on file at the crime lab.”
She crossed her arms over her naked chest. “That sounds so cold, so awful.”
“Yeah it does, and I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want it to be like this—where science, attorneys, and wills become more important than the fact that Neve died tragically.” She stood, pulled on one of Chase’s ratty t-shirts, and walked to the baby book she’d found herself looking through constantly. She opened it to the page where Neve held her newborn daughter.
Chase stood behind her, rubbing her shoulders.
She leaned back against him. “That’s really me. Those are my parents.” She turned the page. “That sweet little boy was my brother.”
He kissed the top of her head.
“I feel so sad, Chase. In so many ways, I’ve lost everything.”
He turned her and took the book from her, setting it back on the stack with others. “Not everything.”
She looked into his eyes and smiled. “No, not everything.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” She hugged him, resting her cheek against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart.
He slid his hand up and down her back. “How about we go to bed and you can tell me about Abby and Sophie’s ideas for the foundation.”
She looked at him, staring into his eyes. “Be with me instead. I don’t want to think about anything but you.”
He nodded, kissing her, bringing her back to bed, and she got blissfully lost in Chase.
Chapter Forty-two
Christmas music filled the kitchen while Julie added tiny silver candies to the thin strips of vanilla frosting she’d piped onto the intricate snowflake, the last of the dozen sugar cookies cool enough to decorate. With five minutes remaining on the timer before the next batch was ready to come out of the oven, she washed her hands and got back to work on her other project. She added a few drops of purple coloring to the course salt and lavender essential oils in the large bowl and gave the mixture a stir, distributing the pale, all-natural color throughout the batch of bath salts she was creating for gifts.
She’d had another busy day, enjoying Alexa’s company while she gave Alexa and Jackson’s sweet baby boy, Owen, his first massage. She’d gone to the Casey home next, loving her mommy and me yoga session with Hailey and handsome little Preston. All of Chase’s friends were either pregnant or had beautiful new babies, making her yearn for one of her own.
Frowning, she paused mid-stir, caught off guard by her wa
ndering thoughts. Long ago she stopped dreaming of white picket fences and a happy little family. She’d only ever wanted children with Chase. Not even after he walked out of her life and she found herself engaged to another man and eventually in a relationship with another did she ever envision making babies with anyone but him. Over the last decade, she’d found contentment with her title of honorary aunt to Meadow, but now that she and Chase were testing the waters again, she craved to feel her belly swelling with a life they’d created.
Shaking her head, she continued with her task, admonishing herself for being foolish, for secretly hoping for things that would more than likely never be. She and Chase were barely back together. They’d made things work for two measly weeks, and the hard part hadn’t even started yet. Everything was fine now, but she wasn’t back in Washington and he wasn’t distracted with his overseas ventures and his typically crazy work schedule.
Her phone rang and she happily grabbed it, eager for a distraction from her depressing thoughts. “Hello?”
“Julie?”
Her spirits sank lower as she recognized the deep voice of the attorney she and Chase had spoken to via speakerphone early this morning. “Yes.”
“Julie, this is Jordan Rogerson.”
“Yes, hello.”
“I wanted to let you know that I reached out to Noah Porter’s counsel before I headed off to a couple of meetings this afternoon. I just received a call back.”
She gripped her phone tighter. “Okay.”
“I’m afraid our conversation didn’t go quite as well as I was hoping for.”
“Oh” she said, moving toward the oven as the timer beeped.
“Mr. Porter and his legal team don’t feel that the DNA results we’ve provided them are sufficient proof that you are Alyson Porter.”
Sighing, she jammed her hand into the oven mitt and pulled the cookie sheet from the rack. “What does that mean for us?”
“It means we’ll be spending some time in court.”
“That’s what I thought.” She hadn’t expected anything less. Setting the cookie sheet down to cool, she pulled her hand from the mitt and walked to the window, staring out at the lights blinking on as the sun set in the late-afternoon sky.
“As I explained this morning, we’re looking at a civil suit, which Mr. Porter will more than likely make difficult, but we can move forward and petition the court if that’s how you want to proceed. You have a right to prove who you are, and a judge will agree.”
She turned from the pretty view as her mood plummeted further. For much of the day, she’d done her best to push her problems to the back of her mind and concentrate on her time with Chase’s friends, but there was no way to pretend away the complications of her life as she listened to her new attorney speak.
“I can file papers as soon as the courts open tomorrow morning and we can get the ball rolling, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Porter pulls out all the stops to stall this process.”
It was tempting to tell Jordan to forget the whole thing. She wasn’t interested in the stupid inheritance. She knew who she was, but that’s not what Neve would have wanted. Yet the astronomical costs of endless legal fees and court dates made her waver. “I’d like a day or two to think on it.”
“Of course. This is a lot. Take all the time you need.”
“Thank you.”
“Give me a call when you know what you’d like to do.”
“I will. Thank you again for your help.”
“You’re welcome. Bye, Julie.”
“Bye.” She walked back to the counter and set her phone down. Grumbling her frustration in her throat, she rested her elbows on the granite and cradled her face in her hands. This just kept getting worse and worse. How was she supposed to pay attorney fees when she could barely afford to survive? Her business was just hanging on—and that was before she’d taken two weeks off. She was operating on a negative cash flow. “Damn it.” She stood straight, giving the cooling cookie sheet a bad-tempered shove.
Staying here with Chase was nice, but every day she was away from OM Studio was killing her bottom line. Chase was convinced someone in Massachusetts was trying to hurt her, but she wasn’t one hundred percent sure. The only thing she knew without a doubt was it was time to get back to Washington and get her business back on track. If she waited too much longer, she wouldn’t have one to go home to.
~~~~
Chase secured the last knot in the rope, tying the tree to the top of his SUV. He got behind the wheel, smiling as he glimpsed over his shoulder at the full back seat. He’d finished work early and ducked out for the rest of the day, hoping he might be able to cheer up Julie. She’d assured him she was fine when he left her this morning, but he knew her better than that.
The last few hours had been rough—the story of Julie’s life lately. First last night’s DNA results, then their conversation with Jordan Rogerson before the sun fully came up. Verifying Neve’s maternity had been the next step in this mess. There would have been no moving forward without the confirmation that she was indeed Neve and Jay Porter’s daughter, but there was always a price to pay for that kind of knowledge.
Julie could finally say she knew who her parents were, but now she would have to deal with the irrefutable fact that Miranda Keller, the woman whom she’d loved, trusted, and called Mom, stole her from her family. As if that wasn’t enough of a blow, she also had her asshole brother to contend with. Julie’s new high-powered Boston attorney hadn’t minced words during their intense, hour-long meeting. She was in for a battle without Noah’s cooperation. The road to claiming her identity was paved in frustration and huge dollar signs.
Despite Julie’s latest headaches, they’d moved a step in the right direction. But there was more to the story, answers he didn’t have but needed. This afternoon he’d spoken to Agent Tillis and District Attorney Wesley, trying to cut through the bureaucracy and red tape that would secure Donnie Dorman a deal now that the DNA results were in. DA Wesley grumbled plenty about how Neve’s hair samples were collected and the lack of a chain of custody, but after pressure from himself and Agent Tillis, DA Wesley assured them both he would see what he could do to help close the Porter kidnapping case once and for all.
In the meantime, Chase was going to do what he could to take care of Julie. He’d planned an evening that was guaranteed to put a smile back on her face: Christmas music, tree decorating, and one of Sophie’s killer recipes prepared by him. He turned out of the parking lot into the chaotic late-afternoon traffic, eager to get home. Tonight he didn’t just want her to smile; he wanted to make her see that she should stay.
During his few moments of downtime between meetings and phone tag with the DA and Agent Tillis, he’d looked into the cost of studio space, even the price of renovating the house if Julie wanted to run her business out of their home. Both options came with steep price tags, but now that she was here, he didn’t want to let her go.
Twenty minutes later, he pulled into the drive, loving that the lights shined bright through the windows and that Julie was inside. This could be their reality—what he’d always wanted and stopped believing they would ever have. But now that this was theirs for the taking, he intended to keep it. Getting out, he opened the back door, and wrestled his first surprise from the row of seats. He hurried up the steps and unlocked the door, stepping in to the scent of cookies and lavender. “Jules?”
“I’m in here,” she said, leaning over at the kitchen counter with one of those decorator frosting bags in her hands.
Abandoning her gift outside, he walked up behind her, admiring her slim frame in yoga pants and a snug long-sleeve t-shirt. He ran his hands up and down the sides of her waist. “Whatcha doing?”
“Making cookies.”
He leaned closer, kissing her neck, impressed by her artistic touch. “Those snowflakes are almost too pretty to eat.”
She tossed a smile over her shoulder. “Thanks.”
He sniffed at the air. “I s
mell lavender.”
“I’m making bath salts and sugar scrubs for your friends.” She set down the piping bag. “They sell really well at home, so I thought they would be nice gifts.”
“Sounds great.” He turned her around and settled his hands on her hips, studying her gorgeous face and shiny hair pulled back in a sexy ponytail. “You look good, Jules.”
She frowned, glancing down at her outfit. “If you’re into slightly bummy and ultra-relaxed.”
He kissed her. “I’m into you.”
She smiled, playing with his tie.
“How was today?”
“Okay.”
His brow furrowed. “Just okay?”
She shook her head. “It was good. I like Alexa and Hailey. Owen and Preston are beautiful babies.”
“They’re pretty cute.” He kissed her again, more than ready to share his surprises. “I have something for you—a few things, actually.”
She tilted her head. “You do?”
He nodded, eager to get their evening started. “Stay right here.”
“Okay.”
“No peeking.” He pointed his finger at her, winking.
“I won’t.” She smiled, pointing back.
He walked to the door and brought in the huge rug.
Her eyes lit up. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Could be.” He laid it on the wood. “Should we take a look?”
“Yes.” Grinning, she bit her bottom lip.
He unrolled the circular patterns in multi-shades of blue, green, and cream, filling a nine-by-twelve section of his floor. “There.” He stood, brushing off his hands.
“It looks so good.” She did a little shimmy.
He stepped back, rubbing his fingers over his beard, taking it in. The colors complemented the tones in the flooring, just like she’d said they would.
She gripped her hands together. “Well, what do you think?”
“I think you have good taste.”
“It’s perfect.” She hugged him. “It’s perfect, Chase.”
“Agreed.” He slid his hand down her back. “There’s more.”