Her Lost and Found Baby

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “Because you were grieving.”

  She didn’t want to think about Mark. About that night. And how it might, just a little, mirror this one. “Sometimes you need the ultimate human contact, you know? You need to connect. To feel that you’re fully alive and part of something outside your own small world.”

  He lifted his glass again. Drank. Watched her the whole time.

  “And that’s what you need now? This ultimate human contact?”

  She could nod. See where it led them. “I need you to hold me, Johnny.” She let the truth fall out. “When you kissed me today, it was like...I knew I could hang on for another hour. I’ve got eight hours of darkness to get through here. I don’t want to do it alone.”

  “So I’ll hold you. All night long. You don’t have to have sex to get my arms around you, hon. You only had to ask.”

  Hon.

  The word sent a shiver of...something even better than his kiss arcing through her. She wanted to be his hon.

  “And if I want to make love with you?”

  “Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. If we come to it.”

  He stood. Held out his hand. Tabitha took it. Pretty sure they were about to come to that bridge.

  * * *

  What should he wear? Used to sleeping in the buff, or on rare occasions his boxers, Johnny wasn’t sure it was a good idea to climb into bed with Tabitha with just a layer of thin fabric between his overactive body part and her...body.

  He could always lie there in his jeans. It wasn’t as though he’d be getting much sleep. Not in bed with Tabitha. The plan was to help her through the night. To help her get the rest she needed. Whether the judge’s decision came in the morning and whether it was in their favor or not, she had a tough day ahead of her tomorrow.

  Should he take her to her room? Or his? One way or the other, he expected to be up most of the night and might need his tablet...or other stuff...so he started toward his room with Tabitha following. Then he thought about the fact that she might be more comfortable in hers.

  “Is this okay?” he asked. She was the one who’d be asleep all night. Wouldn’t even know what room she was in.

  “Of course,” she told him. He felt her shiver. He wished it was with anticipation and knew he needed to get her under the covers and warm her up.

  “We can turn the TV on,” he said before they’d reached his door. She’d said once that she fell asleep to the TV most nights. She’d mentioned it months ago, when they’d been talking about a show they’d both watched late the night before.

  “Okay.”

  Good, then. They had a plan.

  * * *

  “Aren’t you getting under the covers with me?” Tabitha peered at him from his bed. He was standing by it, TV remote in hand. She’d climbed in, sweats and all, when he’d pulled back the covers.

  “Yeah, sure,” he said. There was no way he could lie under that blanket with jeans on all night long. He’d bake them both out of the bed.

  But jeans would keep his penis contained, no matter what it decided to do.

  He found a movie for them to watch—a comedy with very little romance—and tossed the remote on the bed.

  “You want your wine?” It might help her fall asleep faster.

  “Okay.”

  He didn’t run from the room, but he would’ve liked to. He brought their glasses and the bottle, too. For her. All for her. Until she passed out on him.

  She was propped up on pillows when he got back. Two more were arranged beside her. Close beside her. Made sense, since the idea was for him to hold her. A difficult thing to do from the far side of the bed. Johnny handed Tabitha her glass. Set his and the bottle down on the nightstand. Turned off the lights.

  Jeans or boxers. Jeans or boxers.

  He pulled his shirt off.

  Jeans or boxers.

  The only light in the room came from the TV.

  He stepped out of his jeans.

  * * *

  If she’d asked herself about lying in bed with Johnny, watching TV, Tabitha might have figured it would be awkward. She might have been uncomfortable. In reality, she lay there wishing he’d look at her instead of the TV.

  She gave him his glass of wine. Sipped from hers. Wondered when he’d get to the holding her part.

  So she could reach that bridge she wanted to cross.

  Ten minutes went by. Fifteen. And she’d had about as much as she could take. Putting her glass down on the table, she took his from him and looking him straight in the eye, but not saying a word, slid on top of him.

  Strange, really, how easy it was. Her body on his, fitting against his, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

  “Have we crossed it yet?” she asked him, driven by feelings in her groin, her breasts, her most private parts. Feelings that weren’t going to be told no.

  “Crossed what?” His strangled-sounding words made her smile.

  She’d never seen herself as a seductress. Or even as the aggressor in a physical situation. But she was pushed to her limit. And reaching the end of her time with Johnny.

  “The bridge,” she said, sliding her pelvis against his completely, gloriously engorged penis. Might have been better for him if she’d been wearing silk instead of sweats.

  “Oh, sweetheart, I think you crossed that the second you climbed into my bed,” he said, rolling her over and lying on top of her. “I can hold you all night if you want to go outside and sit by a tree.” He growled as he lowered his head to her lips.

  Johnny didn’t start out slow. He didn’t ease her into the world of passion. He opened his mouth over hers and used his tongue to send signals all over her body.

  Their clothes were gone almost immediately, but that felt natural, too, being naked with Johnny. She couldn’t see much with only the TV’s glow, not nearly enough, and still couldn’t stop looking at him.

  She loved how he stared at her. Took moments to devour every part of her with his mouth as he removed her sweats and shirt, her panties and bra, piece by piece.

  He touched her in places that shouldn’t make her wet down below, but did. He made love to every part of her, and let her make love to every part of him, too, when the urge became more than she could resist.

  And when, after what seemed like hours of being on the verge of exploding right out of her body, he grabbed a condom from his wallet and finally spread her legs with his knee and slipped inside her, she cried out, feeling a pleasure she’d never even imagined.

  She didn’t care that he was only on loan. Didn’t worry about losing him. She just gave him everything she had, took everything he wanted to give, thankful that, right now, Johnny was all hers.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Waking up alone Friday morning, Johnny went about his usual business. Tabitha always had coffee going in the suite by the time he got up and that morning was no different. Standing there in his boxers, he poured himself a cup, looking toward her closed bedroom door.

  How long had she lain with him? He remembered waking up at some point with her snuggled against him. And then...nothing.

  Her decision to leave his bed before they saw each other again had probably been a good one. No awkward moments.

  Still, it might have been nice to wake up together.

  If they were in another place and time. If their worlds coincided on a more permanent basis.

  The closed door bothered him. He considered knocking on it, but didn’t. They had a truck to run. A business to tend to. A partnership still in effect.

  Heading toward the shower, he thought about the truck. About the people he was going to contact to get the franchising in motion. Investors he knew he could count on. Angel would have been thrilled.

  That was when it hit him. He’d just made love for the first time since his wife’s death.r />
  As the water poured onto his head, he waited for guilt to rain down on him, as well. For recrimination to strike. When it didn’t come immediately he grabbed the soap. The washcloth. Remembered the incredible sex he’d had with Tabitha. Relived the way he’d felt—and not just physically. He waited to hate himself for it. Still nothing.

  Except a peculiar warmth he felt from the inside out. Go figure.

  * * *

  Tabitha kissed Johnny four times that morning. Not passionate, get-naked kisses, just check-in kisses. Grounding her wires so she didn’t short-circuit. The first time had been when they were standing at the door of their suite, ready to leave. They’d met in the living room, in their Angel’s Food Bowls garb, as always. She’d worried that it might be awkward. That he might want to talk about what they’d done. That she might be embarrassed.

  He’d been as great, as always. Normal. With an extra-warm look thrown in. That was when she’d kissed him. And thanked him.

  He didn’t ask what for.

  She didn’t elaborate—even to herself.

  The second time had been right before they opened the window on the truck for business. He’d brushed by her, stopping to press his body against hers just for a second.

  The third had been a quickie when they had a moment with no customers.

  And the fourth... That had happened when she’d glanced at her watch, seen that noon had arrived and realized they still hadn’t heard from the judge. They’d obviously missed his or her morning calendar. There were five customers in line, all wanting things from her, and it was just too much. Her chest had tightened. Drawing in air had been a struggle. And she’d walked over and kissed Johnny while his hands were covered with meat and lettuce. Because connecting with him made her stronger.

  The fact that he didn’t seem to object, no matter how many times they kissed, made it fun. A moment of levity at a grave time.

  By two that afternoon, she needed more than a kiss. More than any momentary relief from the tension. Still no word from the judge. No word from anyone.

  Matt was back at work and Jason was back at the daycare. If they hadn’t been, Alistair Montgomery would have called. She and Johnny were running the food truck. Neither Mallory nor Braden seemed to be making much use of her list. Other than Johnny’s call to Braden the day before, there’d been no contact with the Harrises.

  And she’d had sex with her partner. Her friend.

  That morning, their actions hadn’t bothered her all that much. Maybe she’d still been on an endorphin high or something. But as the day waned, as the evening loomed, she started to think about the night ahead.

  Would she and Johnny go to their own rooms as normally as they’d come out of them this morning? Would they have dinner out first, so there was no temptation to sleep together again?

  She had some say in the matter. A lot of say. She just had no idea what to say. In a perfect world, she’d sleep with him again, but her world was far from perfect and—

  Her phone rang.

  A jolt shot through her, increasing her heart rate and slowing her breath. Tabitha excused herself from the window, moved closer to Johnny and pulled her phone from her pocket.

  “It’s Detective Bentley,” she said softly and then, tapping to answer, spoke into the phone. “Hello?”

  The detective introduced himself and she knew the news wasn’t good from his tone of voice. They’d spoken that often. She could tell.

  “The judge denied our request,” he told her. “She said the evidence wasn’t compelling enough to impinge on the privacy of a citizen who, other than his similarities to another man, had no indicators of having committed a crime. She wanted some evidence that proved Matt could be suspected of wrongdoing. I’m so sorry, Ms. Jones. I wish I could do more, but...”

  Tabitha got through the phone call. She managed some kind of thank-you and a proper goodbye.

  “We didn’t get the warrant,” she told Johnny, and then went back to work.

  She would go on. She could go on.

  She had to go on.

  Jackson was still out there. Waiting.

  * * *

  Johnny suggested dinner at the beach, followed by a walk on the sand. He wanted romance, but didn’t expect it. Wasn’t actually convinced it was a good idea. His time with Tabitha was coming to an end, and even though he fully intended to stay in touch with her, to answer if she ever called him. To be there if she ever needed him. He knew she’d been right when she said that once he returned home his life would consume him.

  Just as hers would consume her if she got her son back.

  He also knew he couldn’t delay his own life until that point. It could be years. Or never.

  Still, he couldn’t pretend the night before had never happened. They’d had fantastic sex. Even if they weren’t going to do it again, that was worth acknowledging.

  Taking heart from her ready agreement with his suggestion that they stay down at the beach for the evening, Johnny took her to a seafood place with balcony seating over the sand. Ordered them both a glass of wine. Over dinner he talked to her about his Angel’s Food Bowls franchise plan—including the use of the proceeds to fund a nonprofit that aided parents in the search for missing children.

  “To give you an idea of how that could look,” he said, “parents could apply for money to fund a private investigator...”

  Her smile was so personal, Johnny felt like he’d just closed the deal. Except that there wasn’t a deal on the table. Yet.

  “That sounds wonderful, Johnny,” she said. And something occurred to him, right there on the spot.

  “I was thinking you could hold a position on the board,” he said. “Of the nonprofit. Like maybe head it up.”

  He wanted romance and he was offering her a job?

  Her glow continued to warm him. “I would love that, Johnny. Seriously. I don’t know how much time it would take, but I’ll find the time. I think it’s a great idea.”

  He honestly didn’t know how much time it would take, either. He was working on the fly here, which was so unheard of for him, he wasn’t sure what came next.

  “You’ll get a salary,” he told her. Because he knew that much. Knew quite a bit, actually. He just hadn’t made any spreadsheets yet for this particular project. He had to have a budget, to estimate his profits per franchise per year, put out feelers to get an idea of how many franchises they could expect to sell in the first year, and at what fees. There’d be permits and licensing costs. The nonprofit would need startup and marketing budgets—

  “You don’t have to pay me, Johnny. I’m happy to do whatever I can...” Tabitha interrupted his thoughts. And spawned new ones. If she was running the nonprofit, he could keep in touch with her. Even if just peripherally.

  “Wait until you find out the workload before you say that,” he said. If the food truck franchising didn’t produce enough income, he could talk to his father; there were other monies they could donate to the nonprofit. This thing was going to roll. It had to. And Tabitha...she was enthusiastic about it. As he’d known she would be. Yeah, she had to run it.

  And if he got to work immediately, the nonprofit could be ready to go before his sabbatical was over. Adrenaline pumped through him. He was going to make it happen.

  She was smiling at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You’re full of energy all of a sudden...”

  He was.

  “I’m just not used to it. Usually you’re more laid-back... I guess I’m getting a glimpse of Johnny the corporate attorney.”

  No, he was pretty laid-back all the time. Didn’t get wound up about much, which was part of what made him good at what he did—whatever he did. He didn’t clog anything up with emotional baggage.

  And if Tabitha was going to be working for him, they really needed to clear up the sex thing.
>
  Paying their bill, he suggested they take a walk. The ocean air would be balmy. Fresh air was a must at the moment.

  He started right in as soon as they were on the sand. “We need to talk about last night.”

  “I was kind of hoping we wouldn’t.”

  “It’s there.”

  “I know. I didn’t say I didn’t think we needed to. I said I was hoping we wouldn’t.”

  “So...you agree? We need to address it.”

  “Okay.”

  He took a couple more steps, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans instead of reaching for her hand. He’d established the purpose of this meeting. The walk. Made it clear.

  And didn’t like what he had to deal with.

  “It’s okay, Johnny. You needn’t worry that I’ll make any more out of it than it was, if that’s what’s bothering you.”

  Good to know, but he wasn’t sure that was it.

  “I knew the score going in,” she said. “We’ve got another couple of months together, max, and then the partnership dissolves.”

  He wasn’t even sure what that meant anymore.

  “We’ll be forming a new partnership, of sorts,” he was quick to point out. “With the nonprofit.”

  “I hope you get it up and running,” she told him. “I really do think it’s a wonderful idea and I’d be excited to help out in any way I can,” she said. He heard a “but” in her tone. Didn’t ask about it.

  “All I’m saying,” she continued when he still didn’t take back control of the meeting he’d instigated, “is that you aren’t going to be living next door to me. Or be anywhere in my sphere. We live two completely different lives, and I just want you to know I won’t be hounding you or going to the press or...even telling anyone I once knew you. Like I said, I won’t make more of this than there was.”

  What if he wanted to make more of it? The thought occurred and he figured it was coming more from his crotch than his brain.

  His brain told him, however, that she was right on all counts.

  “Besides, I can hardly blame you for what happened or try to trap you into something when I’m the one who came on to you.”