Her Lost and Found Baby

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  He hadn’t missed that point. Had revisited it numerous times over the past hours. Always with a hard-on.

  “It was...unlike you,” he said.

  “I know.”

  “Probably because of the wine.” And because he’d made his physical need for her such a big deal earlier in the week. That hadn’t been the fairest move. Not when he knew she was relying on him more than usual with all the Jason stuff going on.

  “It wasn’t the wine, Johnny.” She didn’t miss a step. “I made the choice before you even opened the bottle.”

  “You aren’t keen on unconditional sex,” he reminded her. “And clearly don’t take sex lightly, based on the fact that you’ve only had one lover in years.”

  “Two, now.”

  Her statement, the droll tone of her voice, went straight to his groin.

  Two, now. Yes, he was now one of her lovers. That put a little extra oomph in his step.

  “And you’re right,” she continued. “I don’t take sex lightly. I didn’t take last night lightly. I just don’t want you to think I have any intention of cashing in on what happened. You’re an incredibly rich man. I’ve only just begun to realize how rich.” Her chuckle sounded a bit uncomfortable. “Much richer than I realized.”

  Okay, he got the rich part. The way she kept saying the word made him feel like he should go take a shower, rid himself of some of his richness.

  Her tone was respectful. The words were, too. There was also the implication that the richer he got, the farther away from her he’d be.

  “I’m sure you’ve had women using you, hoping to get something out of you, and I want to assure you that’s not me.”

  She wasn’t trying to get something out of him. And she wasn’t looking for more.

  “Why, then?” he asked. He lost all desire for sex as a thought occurred to him. “Tell me you didn’t have sex with me to put me out of my misery. As some kind of mercy act. Or a way to pay me back for helping you out.” The words alone, saying them, made him feel sick to his stomach.

  “Of course not!” She took his hand. Squeezed it. “I wanted it as badly as you did.”

  Okay, things were looking up again. “Physically?” He wasn’t taking anything for granted.

  “Yes. You’re... Last night was... I had no idea it could be like that.”

  “So, you want to do it again?”

  “Yeaahh...”

  “But?”

  “Is it the best choice, knowing our partnership’s going to end soon?”

  He couldn’t answer that.

  For either of them.

  Chapter Nineteen

  On and off all day, ever since Detective Bentley’s call, Tabitha had been fighting panic. The kind she’d felt right after her mother had been killed and she’d known she was all alone in the world and had no idea how she’d survive.

  And again the day Jackson was kidnapped.

  Could it be possible that she’d found her son and still had no way to get him back?

  And yet, anytime she came close to the point of needing to lie down in a corner in the fetal position until her strength came back, she’d turn to Johnny and she’d find her power.

  Which brought its own kind of worry. She knew she’d be fine when he was gone. Just as she’d survived the loss of the two people she’d loved most in the world.

  She’d go to work, distract herself from her own pain by focusing on little ones who were feeling a pain she could hardly imagine. The children at work gave her more strength than they’d ever know. Helping them helped her.

  But they weren’t on the Jackson quest. Work wasn’t part of that. Only Johnny was.

  She’d asked him if it was wrong to spend a second night in each other’s arms when they both knew their current relationship was going to end.

  He hadn’t answered.

  “What if I’m using you, Johnny, just not for your money?”

  “What on earth does that mean? Using me how? You said you were turned on and so was I. It was mutual.”

  “I was turned on!” Boy, was she. More than she’d ever figured. “I still am!” Who would think, after the night she’d shared with Johnny, that she’d be more turned on than she’d been in her life? That she needed him more tonight than she had the night before?

  “So?” He shrugged. While she was glad of the darkness at the beach and the lack of other walkers that late at night in September, she wished she could see his face.

  Wished she knew where she was going with this whole conversation.

  “Being with you makes me feel...more capable of handling the challenges I’m facing,” she said slowly, thinking about every word to make certain she was getting them completely right. “When I touch you, it brings good feelings. So when the bad feelings start to overwhelm me, I touch you and get a moment’s relief. But I know it’s only while we’re going through this time together. I mean, I know I’ll face my future challenges without leaning on you.”

  He stopped walking. Turned her to face him. The light of the moon left a white streak on one side of his face. The other was in complete darkness.

  “What are you trying to say? Because I have to tell you, I’m not getting it.”

  She wasn’t sure she was, either. She just needed him to know that when the partnership ended, it ended. Needed him to know she understood that.

  “I want to make sure you’re okay with my leaning on you for now.”

  “Isn’t that what our partnership is all about?”

  That was true, of course. So she kissed him.

  It was the only answer she had.

  And, based on the way he pulled her against him, she figured it was the right one.

  * * *

  Johnny liked sex. Was good at it. He knew how to please a woman and enjoyed doing so. And when it was done, he was fine to move on to sleep. Television. A nightcap. A shower.

  He made love to Tabitha that night, and when it was done, he wanted more. Apparently so did she, because when he pushed back the covers to expose her breast and then leaned in to take her nipple into his mouth, she arched and asked for more. Eventually he had to take a break. Let her have a break, too. TV still didn’t beckon. Nor did sleep, a drink or a shower.

  He wanted more of her. More than just her body. He wanted to give her something that would see her through however many months or years it took to get her son back in her life.

  She wasn’t going to fail. Because she was never going to quit trying.

  And, as it turned out, he hadn’t failed, either. He had a plan to help her, and others like her, in the future, with the added bonus of keeping her in his life.

  Until her son was found, he’d continue to help. To pay Montgomery.

  In the nearly ten years since her mother’s death, she’d been a loner. Hadn’t let anyone inside her life far enough to help her. She’d let him in.

  Nope, he wasn’t going to fail her.

  But...

  “Why me?” With his head on his pillow, her head on his shoulder, he wasn’t even sure she was still awake until she looked at him.

  “What?”

  “Your whole adult life, since your mother was killed, it sounds like you’ve handled everything on your own.”

  “Yeah.” She spoke as if it was a no big deal. “What choice did I have?”

  “I’m sure there were people along the way who would’ve been glad to help.”

  Her pause was significant. He wanted to know what she was thinking. Who she might be remembering. Wanted to know all her stories.

  “I guess there were,” she finally said, slowly. “But they didn’t have to help.”

  “That doesn’t mean they didn’t want to.”

  “I know.”

  “So?”

  He felt her sigh. Settled her more securely against
him.

  “When my mom died, that feeling...you know, of being all alone in the world...I had to handle it or die. I handled it.”

  He frowned. “What are you saying? You plan to be alone for the rest of your life so you don’t get hurt again?”

  “No.” She didn’t sound sure. “I just... Your parents, they have to love you, help you. At least, in the normal scheme of things. Losing that, not having any other family to step in...there’s no one who has to help me. So I help myself.”

  “But what if they want to help you?”

  He couldn’t be the only one who’d wanted that. She was too kind, too giving, to be overlooked by other people like her.

  “I... It’s better for me to do it myself.”

  “Why?”

  “Because.” She was getting testy. He should drop it.

  “Why?” he asked for the second time.

  “Because I know I won’t let me down.”

  “You’re afraid.”

  “No, I’m not.” Maybe she didn’t think she was.

  “Seems like you are. Afraid of loving and losing again.” He was pushing her away, and yet he couldn’t stop. Something bigger than lying in bed with her was going on.

  “Well, can you blame me? I couldn’t even hold on to my own son.” She sat up, taking the covers with her to hold against her breasts as she grabbed her shirt. He let her go. Didn’t try to stop her from leaving the bed, dressing. Didn’t try to follow her, either.

  “Just answer my original question,” he said, propped up against all four pillows as she scooped up the underthings she hadn’t bothered to put on and moved toward the door. “Why me?”

  “Because from the very beginning, you were never going to last. I knew that our partnership would be dissolving,” she blurted, reaching for the door handle. “I knew what not to expect.”

  “Tabitha!” He was up now, too. Stepping into his jeans.

  “What?” Her back was to him, but she’d stopped.

  “What if I don’t want the partnership to dissolve?” What was he saying? Of course it had to dissolve! “Or...what if I want a new partnership with you? One where we keep in touch. One with the nonprofit as a project we take on together?”

  “We’d be in touch for business, maybe. I’m not going to need anything else. Jackson is at The Bouncing Ball. Somehow I’m going to get him home.”

  But she was coming back toward the bed.

  It occurred to him then that she was going to need him to hold her up if that boy turned out to be a two-year-old who’d been named Jason at birth. He had to do whatever it took to persuade her to let him hold her up.

  “You know what I meant,” he said. “I’ll be around.”

  Dropping down to the edge of the bed, she clasped her hands, brushing her thumbs back and forth over her palms. He sat beside her, taking her hands in his.

  “I wish you’d give me a chance to be a friend who hangs around,” he said, feeling like he was fighting the case of his life.

  “I’m not pushing you out of my life, Johnny, although I guess it might seem that way. I’m right here, in the partnership, until you’re ready to resume your life. We had a setback with the warrant rejection, but we’ve still got Mallory and Braden watching for any signs, they have the lists, Alistair’s still watching Matt. At some point we’re going to find evidence compelling enough to get a warrant.

  “And I’m truly thrilled at the idea of working on the nonprofit. I keep thinking about it, and it’s such a great idea. But beyond that, I have to be realistic. When you’re here, living in my world, in the little house next door to me, we have a lot in common. But when you’re back in your real life, we probably won’t have anything in common at all. You’ll be flying corporate jets and...I’m still going to be here. The truth is I am going to be alone.”

  He couldn’t argue with her logic.

  “Do you mind if I hold you tonight, at least? Or maybe for the next couple of nights? Until we get home?”

  “I don’t mind.” She took her clothes back off as he removed his. Climbed back into bed with him. But he was pretty sure, as she laid her head on his chest, that there’d been a sheen of tears in her eyes.

  Chapter Twenty

  Saturday was a busy day on the food truck. They opened at ten in the morning, a couple of hours earlier than usual, and had a crowd almost from the beginning. Tabitha was glad of the business. Eager to talk to people, to see them out together, happy, living normal lives.

  And she was glad to have Johnny there in the truck with her. Too busy to engage in conversation, but still close.

  Surprisingly, they’d been fine waking up together that morning. They’d showered in their own rooms, but with the doors open, and met up to leave as if they’d been living together for months.

  Several times that morning, she’d wondered about staying together once they got back to Mission Viejo. Just until it was time for him to go.

  She could see the dangers. The pitfalls. The longer she slept with him, the closer she’d feel and the harder it would be to lose him.

  But now that she knew she wouldn’t be losing all contact, she saw less harm in having as much of him as she could during the time they had left. She wasn’t going to stop living because she was afraid of being hurt.

  His statement to that effect had really hurt.

  She was at the point of running various scenarios through her mind, trying to come up with ways to broach the topic with Johnny, when she noticed the police car parking across the street from their truck. A uniformed officer got out. Came toward the truck.

  She glanced at Johnny. And then she realized the man probably just wanted a bowl for lunch. Word was getting around about them.

  There were four people in line ahead of him, but the officer didn’t wait. He went straight to the window.

  “Are you Ms. Tabitha Jones?” he asked. His blond hair and blue eyes made him look...kind. His bulk was a little intimidating.

  “Yes.” Her mind was blank just then.

  “Tabitha?” Johnny must have seen, or heard, the officer because he was behind her.

  “I need to speak with you, ma’am,” the officer said. “If you could please come with me?”

  Heart pounding, she glanced at Johnny again. She was in trouble?

  “I’m sorry, we’re going to have to close,” Johnny was saying to the people gathering around the truck. He gave no explanation. Just exited the truck as she got her purse, then closed and locked up the window and the truck. Keys in one hand, he grabbed her hand with the other.

  The officer led them to his car.

  “What’s this about?” Johnny asked, stopping a couple of feet short of the car.

  The man looked at Tabitha. “I believe we have your son, ma’am. I was sent to bring you to the station to be reunited with him.”

  Tabitha’s tears were instantaneous and uncontrollable. She had no questions. She was aware of nothing but the open car door. Sliding inside. Hearing white noise in her head. Seeing flashes of color, of bodies milling around. The car started and began to move.

  * * *

  Johnny sat in the back of the patrol car, watching Tabitha, who’d been shown to the front seat, willing her to turn around. She didn’t.

  Nor did she speak. Not to the officer, who’d said detectives would explain things to her at the station, and not to Johnny. She sat still, although periodically she reached up to wipe her face. It was as though she was afraid to believe Jackson was really at the end of the car ride. Afraid to believe her wait was almost over.

  She’d done what he suspected was all she knew how to do anymore—closed in to take care of herself.

  The second the car stopped at the station, she was out of it. Moving toward the door. Johnny caught up with her. “Maybe we should wait for the officer,” he suggested.

 
She jumped as if she hadn’t even known he was there. But she nodded. Stopped. Stared at the door.

  They were shown down a long hall and into a small conference room where they were told to wait. Tabitha hugged herself, standing right in front of the door, and it was too difficult to watch.

  “Hey,” Johnny said, putting his arms around her. “It’s going to be good.” What the hell he meant by that, he had no idea. He just had to let her know she wasn’t alone.

  The door opened and she gasped. And then grew still. A woman in a brown suit stood there, but there was no child.

  “I’m Detective Shanley,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’ve been working with Detective Bentley in Mission Viejo and just need to speak with you for a few minutes.”

  “Where’s Jackson?” Tabitha asked. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine,” the detective assured her, guiding them to a thin-cushioned couch with metal arms in a corner of the room. As soon as they were seated, Johnny on one side of Tabitha, the detective on the other, Detective Shanley told them the details of how they’d found Jackson.

  Tabitha hadn’t been wrong when she’d seen that picture of Jason. Hadn’t been wrong in believing she’d found her son. And she hadn’t been wrong to have faith in Mallory Harris. As it turned out, Matt had been trying for a while to get Mallory to go out with him. The night after she’d first met Tabitha and Johnny in the pub, the night after she heard Tabitha’s story, she’d finally accepted Matt’s invitation. She’d spent the past week dating him to learn whatever she could about him. And so she could keep Jason close.

  Mark was a smart man in a lot of ways. He was good at keeping his cover. But he’d had no idea Mallory had Tabitha’s list. Not only had she been able to confirm all the likes, dislikes, mannerisms and idiosyncrasies Tabitha, with Johnny’s help, had listed, she’d gone farther than that. She’d asked leading questions to trip him up. Had asked him if he’d been in the delivery room with his wife, and when Mark had said yes, she’d asked enough questions to realize he was lying. He didn’t know enough about the moment-to-moment experience of childbirth to pull it off. Only someone who’d actually been in a delivery room would know.