All of Me: A Confessions of the Heart Stand-Alone Novel

by Jackson, A. L.

  “I’ve got you, Ian. Don’t be scared.”

  Don’t be scared.

  Don’t be scared.

  Scared was the last thing Ian wanted to be.

  Eighteen

  Grace

  I was already out the front door and running for the curb when the car came to a stop. So, what if it made me look desperate and needy. That was exactly what I was.

  It really didn’t matter all that much if I was showing an iota of vulnerability, anyway. I should have known it wouldn’t be Reed who’d take the time to deliver his children back to me at the end of their visit.

  I refused the spike of anger that wanted to climb into my feelings. Not right then. The only thing that mattered was they were home.

  Safe.

  Where they belonged.

  We were going to make it. We would. Whatever it took.

  Reed’s driver, Riggs, put the big sedan in park and climbed out. He really didn’t need to bother. My children were already pouring out, Mallory darting across the lawn with her arms thrown in the air.

  My pulse spiked, joy hitting me hard.

  I didn’t even stop walking as I scooped her up, hugged her close. Breathed her in.

  “There’s my Mal Pal. I missed you so much.”

  I knew there was no way she could understand just how much that was.

  Her little arms wound around my neck. “I missed you all the way to the moon!”

  “All the way to the moon?” I teased. “Well, I missed you all the way to the sun and the stars and right back again.”

  “No way. You didn’t have time to get that far.”

  “But what if I had a spaceship?”

  “A spaceship?” Her little voice lifted in excited awe, as if we were already writing another chapter in our story.

  We just might need one for a getaway.

  I was holding her as I moved across the lawn and toward the car, my eyes on my Thomas, who looked like he was holding the weight of the world on his little shoulders.

  I knew he was.

  Our fragile world.

  The child trying to be the caretaker, the protector of his sisters while they were away, continuing our stories as if they were here, as if it was me who was whispering in their ears.

  He helped Sophie down.

  Only she immediately tripped and fell onto her hands and knees.

  I was hit with the urge to run for her. To shield her from any pain.

  But my wild thing popped back up as if nothing had happened, sending me a smile with a row of her tiny teeth, gaps in between them, happiness radiating from her little body. “I do it, Momma!”

  With a brush of my fingers through her hair, I set Mallory onto her feet, and she ran over to Riggs who was unloading her little pink suitcase from the trunk.

  Sophie lifted her hands in the air, those chubby legs toddling my direction. “Momma now.”

  Momma now.

  Momma forever.

  I picked her up, filling my nose with her sweet scent, baby powder and the promise of spring. I spun us around, and she squealed, “I fly!”

  Soft laughter rolled from me, at one with the peace of the late afternoon air, and I carried Sophie the rest of the way over so I could set my hand on Thomas’s back.

  I leaned in to whisper at his ear, “There’s my brave boy.”

  He grimaced, and I knew he was contemplating playing indifferent, the big man who shouldn’t show his feelings, which I was sure Reed had fed into his brain over the last two days.

  “Sweet boy,” I murmured, trying to reach him.

  For a second, he hesitated before he threw himself at me and burrowed his face against my belly. “Mom. I missed you.”

  “It’s okay, Thomas. I’m right here. I’m so sorry.” I let him cry, these big, angry sobs that erupted from him, one of my arms around his shoulders while I kept Sophie situated on my hip as I tried to silently give him all the encouragement I could find.

  The promise that we would be fine. That this would soon be over.

  The faith that it would work out.

  No matter what.

  Like Gramma had said, some things were just too right to go wrong.

  Riggs tried to hide the sympathy in his face, the old man always so kind in all the years I’d lived at Reed’s house.

  “Here you go, ma’am,” he told me as he pulled the rest of their things out of the trunk. They had stuff at Reed’s—ridiculous, expensive things—and I made sure to send them with familiar toys and clothes that would make them feel comfortable every time they went.

  “Thank you,” I told him, my voice hoarse, part of me wanting to beg him to tell me anything he could. To give me any ammo. I was sure he had plenty.

  But his loyalty had always been to the Dearborne family. Born into it, his mother had been Reed’s nanny until he no longer required one, and Riggs had quickly acquired a spot.

  “It’s an honor to drive your children.”

  “I wish it wasn’t necessary.” The admission hung between us. A bridge I was asking him to cross.

  He slammed the trunk closed. “I do hope you and Mr. Dearborne find a resolution soon.”

  He glanced at all the children, giving them a soft wave and a big smile.

  Mallory giggled when he did. “Bye-bye, Mr. Riggity Rigg! I see you soon.”

  At least Mallory could always find the bright side. The child so full of love she didn’t know anything else.

  Thomas grabbed his and Sophie’s suitcases and turned toward the house.

  My grandmother was there at the end of the walk, arms wide open. “There are the greatest great-grandchildren in all the land.”

  Mallory danced across the lawn, doing a twirl and a jump, and landing at my grandmother’s feet like a prize. “Did you see that, Grams? One day, I’m going to be in the Russian Ballet.”

  Thomas snickered as he headed toward them. “Don’t you have to be Russian?”

  Mallory scowled at him, and I chuckled under my breath, heading back up through the lawn.

  The engine hummed as Riggs pulled from the curb.

  Halfway to Gramma, I froze.

  Awareness nipped at my senses and sent the fine hairs at my neck spiking with electricity, stomach turning itself into a thousand knots.

  Oh.

  My heart started to race, and I slowly shifted to look over my shoulder.

  Wary and terrified and filling right up with the hope that seemed so impossible to find until I saw him standing there.

  The most gorgeous man I’d ever seen. The most gorgeous man I’d ever touched.

  He was across the road with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

  Dressed in a suit, polished, his face masculine and rough.

  A perfect package.

  A perfectly, imperfect gift.

  Nineteen

  Ian

  I stood on the opposite side of the road with a lump the size of a meteor in my throat. It might as well have been. Knowing the feeling that had put it there was going to completely wipe me out.

  Desolate and destroy.

  Those eyes were on me.

  A blue, mesmerizing sea. Soft and sweet and filled with so much relief that my first inclination was to turn and run.

  Especially when I was looking at the evidence of her kids.

  The little girl in her arms. Two children standing at the feet of an old woman who was watching me, too.

  A chilly breeze weaved through the colossal trees of the quaint neighborhood, while I was pretty sure I was being burned alive.

  At the stake.

  Grace slowly set the tiny, white-haired girl onto her feet, saying something to the woman who stretched out her hand for the little girl.

  The older woman wrangled all three kids, shooing them and trying to get their bags into the house, sparing me a glance before she disappeared inside.

  A warning.

  That same kind of protection I so often found Jace watching me with.

  Fierceness.


  Loyalty.

  The kind you didn’t mess with.

  Message received.

  Grace watched until the door shut before she slowly turned back to face me. Fitted jeans and a pink chunky sweater and that sweet, sweet heart.

  Fuck.

  I was in trouble.

  Had no idea what I was doing there. What I was thinking. The only thing I knew was I’d been doing all this shady shit for Lawrence, fostering God knew what, how could I not help her?

  Maybe I could do something good in the middle of all my bad. Right a wrong.

  Didn’t mean it wasn’t going to be brutal.

  Gathering myself, I started across the road while the girl just stood there with the wind rustling through her soft, soft hair, so damned pretty she was again making it hard to breathe.

  God, that pissed me off, too.

  She was too much.

  More than I could handle.

  Some kind of motherfucking test.

  I felt it.

  I was either going to pass or fail, but I had to do this.

  That energy tumbled along the ground as I approached, a shiver across her skin that she passed right off to me.

  Teeth clenched, I stopped two feet away, and shoved my damned hands back into my pockets so I didn’t reach out and touch her.

  “Ian,” she whispered.

  “You need an attorney?”

  Her eyes moved over me. “Yes.”

  “You want me to represent you?”

  She blinked. “I’m not sure I could trust anyone else.”

  Trust.

  She really didn’t know me, did she?

  She glanced over her shoulder. “They’re my life, and no one wants to take a chance on that.”

  She looked back at me.

  “Except you?” Her tone shifted into a question.

  A plea.

  Adoration.

  My stomach fisted.

  Yup.

  Brutal.

  I took a step closer, breathing her in, delicious plum and sugared petals. “You know I can’t touch you. Never again. And no one can know that I did.”

  Something decadent flashed through her eyes. Like she was watching it in rewind.

  Against the wall.

  In my shower.

  Me holding her in my bed.

  Her delicate throat bobbed as she tipped her face up so she could meet the steely determination in my gaze. “I know that. They are worth the sacrifice.”

  Slowly I nodded, voice coming out harder than it should. “They’d better be.”

  Wasn’t exactly the type of sacrifice I was eager to make.

  Not when I wanted to revisit all those scenes on repeat.

  I rocked back on my heels, trying to get some space between us before I shoved my nose against her throat. “Not exactly a fan of kids.”

  Surprise had her stepping back. “How’s that?”

  I waved at the small house. “Because then they get wrapped up in shit like this.”

  Hurt dimmed her features. “You think I ever meant for them to get hurt?”

  Old anger simmered in that pit inside me. “Not sure anyone does. It’s all the bad choices people make along the way that get them there.”

  She slowly nodded, rubbing her lips together, glancing into the distance as a mini-van drove by.

  Without question, I was wounding her.

  But she needed to know where I stood.

  And that was with distance between us.

  I had to do this without emotion. Without caring about her or them. Nothing but the job.

  That was what this would be.

  Finally, she shifted her attention back to me, something fierce slashing across her face. “I might have begged you yesterday, Ian. I don’t regret it. Not for a second. I’ve always been willing to do whatever it took for my children. To erase the bad choices I’ve made. And I won’t stand here and pretend as if I haven’t made terrible ones. I was responsible from the beginning. Settling when I shouldn’t have. But everything I did was because I wanted the best for them. Because I’ve always loved my children more than anything else.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, seeking distance, too. “And if you’re not willing to fight for that? Believe in that? I will find someone who will.”

  “This is just another case, Grace. You can rest assured that I will give it everything I have. Just like I do with every client I represent. I work my ass off for my clients. Not because I am a champion of their cause, but because it’s what they pay me to do.”

  With a streak of fiery disappointment, she turned her chin up at me. “So that’s how it’s gonna be?”

  “That’s how it has to be. This is going to be hard enough.”

  I was already crossing so many lines, I’d left sanity behind. Representing her was like volunteering to stand in the front row of a firing squad.

  Wasn’t sure I was going to make it out of this one standing.

  Going against Reed Dearborne.

  Risking Kenneth flaying me alive for putting the reputation of the firm on the line.

  Not to mention the only thing I wanted to do was peel her out of those jeans and sink my dick right back into all that sweet heat.

  But I was going to do this. For once in my life, I was going to do something that didn’t benefit me. For once, I was going to do one thing right.

  Another nod, and she inhaled a deep breath, the girl plastering neutrality onto her face. “Well, then, Mr. Jacobs. It’s so kind of you to come all the way to my grandmother’s home to take on this case. How do we proceed?”

  The breath I took in was steeling. On the name of all things holy, what had I done? “I’m going to need to interview you and your children. Get a history, and then we can formulate a plan.”

  My voice dropped, and I angled my head. “You tell me only what you want me to know, do you understand?”

  Shame flickered through her eyes.

  No question.

  She’d taken that money.

  Those fat stacks of cash in that bag nothing but a confession.

  God, I really was insane.

  “I understand,” she whispered.

  “Do you?” I murmured.

  “Yes.” It was a wisp.

  I lifted my chin. “Good. We’d better get started.”

  She led me into the modest house that hailed straight out of the eighties and smelled like freshly-baked biscuits.

  My mouth watered, and my stomach growled.

  Voices rambled from somewhere down a hall, a babbling baby and a boy and the older woman, a little girl butchering the lyrics of an overplayed pop song as she sang over the top of them.

  Warmth and peace and complete chaos.

  Irritation bubbled in my blood.

  “This will probably be the most comfortable.” Grace made an immediate right through an archway that led into a dated kitchen.

  There was a worn round table under a window that looked out front.

  “Have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink?”

  I cleared my throat that was still sporting that meteor. “A water would be nice.”

  She gave a tight nod. Tension wound between us, the fact we were trying to be something I was pretty sure we weren’t intended, client and attorney when really, we were kindling and fire.

  She went to the sink and filled a glass with tap water. Her fingers brushed mine when she set it down on the table in front of me.

  My dick jumped while the rest of my body flinched.

  She breathed out a heavy sound, her chest lurching forward, no doubt feeling it, too. Her voice was soft when she murmured close to my ear, “Before we start, I want you to know how much this means to me. That you’re doing this for us. I’ve felt so alone for all these months, waiting for a miracle. I had no idea that miracle was going to be you.”

  I tried to block her words from seeping into that crack in my chest. The girl getting her fingers right in there and tugging it apart. Trying t
o bust it wide open.

  “I’m no miracle, Grace. I could be your worst nightmare. This could all blow up in your face. You need to know, this will not be an easy win. They are going to try to smear you. They will drag out every secret you have, parade around your skeletons.”

  Her trembling chin lifted defiantly. “I’m not the only one with secrets.”

  Hatred churned. I’d done a little research on Reed Dearborne this morning, stared a little too long at the pompous ass, his record as clean as the floor his maid surely scrubbed every day.

  But it was all too perfect.

  Wrapped up in a pretty red bow.

  An illusion.

  I knew it.

  Was betting Grace knew it in a way that made my guts curl.

  “You’re going to need to let me in on that.”

  She breathed out a shaky sound and slumped into the wooden chair beside me. “I’d like to avoid using that if at all possible.”

  “He won’t hesitate to destroy you, Grace.”

  And that made me want to destroy him.

  Her head shook. “I just . . . need to figure out how to do this with him thinking he’s getting the best thing for himself. For his campaign. For his life. I think he’d much rather keep this on the downlow than have the whole thing explode on the media.”

  “I think you’re fooling yourself. I think you’re a threat to his pride, and that’s something he won’t settle for.”

  “It’s more than that. He’s afraid if I’m outside of his control, I’ll expose the things I know.”

  Anger boiled. “Has he ever hurt you before? Physically?”

  Wounds streaked through her eyes, and I was half a second from flying to my feet and out the door.

  Fuck the case.

  The asshole could die by my bare hands.

  “Once,” she said, her voice a tremor. “I’d left him back before Sophie was born. He didn’t take so kindly to it.”

  She coughed out a horrified sound, like she was taken back to the memory. “He . . . forced me back into the house. Forced himself on me. Made it clear if I ever left again, I was going to regret it.”

  That lump throbbed in my throat, my chest squeezing too tight. I really didn’t know if I could stomach any of this. Not when there was this ugly, nasty part of me that wanted to claim her as mine.