The Lewis Legacy Series Box Set: 4-in-1 Special Edition

by JoAnn Durgin

  Even if she hadn’t heard the words, this man had a way of making her feel cherished with those expressive eyes alone. He really needed to stop looking at her like that. Then again, she never wanted him to stop. Josh raised his hand, and she thought he might touch her hair, her face, but he pushed away from the door instead. She melted a little more inside, like her ice cream in the warm sunshine. When Josh’s lips curved in a devastating smile, Winnie bit her lip to keep from crying out. When he met Chloe—an inevitability sooner than later—he’d know. Yes, her daughter inherited certain physical qualities from her, but she belonged equally to Josh Grant. He deserved to know, and his family deserved to know. Deserved the blessing of getting to know the sweetness, the joy of loving his daughter. As much as the Lord blessed her with Chloe, it was now time to share that blessing.

  “Chloe’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” She stared out the front window. “I’ll talk to you later, Josh.” Does he not remember I told him he was the last man I kissed?

  “Call me if you want to talk, Winnie. About anything.” He tapped the door with his hand as he moved away from the car.

  She nodded and pulled away from the curb, managing to keep her foot steady although she wanted to floor the accelerator.

  Turn around, go back there and tell that man he’s the father of your child.

  Sometimes the Holy Spirit worked overtime.

  Winnie looked in the rearview mirror. Josh stood in the driveway, watching, and was still there when she turned left at the corner and faded from view.

  “One thing at a time, Lord.”

  Chapter 15

  Late Thursday Afternoon

  All it took was a quick look at Lexa’s Rolodex on the small desk in the kitchen to find Winnie’s address. A check on the laptop computer showed it was about ten minutes away. After a short perusal of his e-mail and listening to voicemail messages, Josh stretched out on the bed made by Sam’s father and propped his arms beneath his head. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see were Winnie’s big, sad eyes. They tugged at his heart. Why was she so afraid to admit she had a child? Was she ashamed or embarrassed?

  Some of the comments she’d made—offhand or not—gave him the impression she hadn’t dated much. She’d also told him he was the last man she’d kissed. Did she lie? The thought brought him upright on the bed. How old was Chloe? Did the other TeamWork members know? If they did, it was a very closely-guarded secret. That made no sense either since their lives were pretty much an open book. Surely Beck would know, but she’d never said a word. Nothing made any sense.

  At the risk of angering Winnie, powerless to understand it, he needed to know more. Being around her brought unexpected emotions to the surface. She’d been his friend, certainly, but the tug on his heart was way more than the deep friendship he felt for the other TeamWork ladies. He sensed a newfound peace in her. She was more self-assured and settled. The catering partnership probably had a lot to do with it, but Winnie would accept the job of motherhood as the most important one of her life. No wonder she acted so nervous when he made that comment about how she’d make a wonderful mother.

  Two hours later, he stood on the doorstep of Winnie’s apartment. An attractive, white-haired woman opened the door the second time he rang the doorbell. She gave him a tentative smile, probably hoping he wasn’t selling anything. Maybe he was, but not to this woman.

  “May I help you?”

  “Hi. I’m Josh Grant, a friend of Winnie’s. I was wondering if she’s home? I’d like to speak with her.” Based on what he knew about Winnie’s background, this couldn’t be her mother or a stepmother. Must be Chloe’s nanny or a babysitter.

  “Your last name is Grant?” She looked vaguely amused, and something akin to recognition flickered in her light eyes.

  “Last time I checked.”

  She tilted her head to one side. “You’re the young man who took Winnie to dinner last night.”

  “Guilty.”

  “The twin.”

  He raised his brows. “Again, guilty.” This conversation was going nowhere fast. “Do you expect her soon, Mrs.—”

  “I’m Dottie Cooper. Winnie’s not home right now. I’m expecting her around five-thirty.”

  He glanced at his watch, surprised she’d volunteered that much information to a virtual stranger. It was well over an hour away, but he had all the time in the world when it came to Winnie and her daughter.

  “Chloe’s fascinated by the whole concept of twins,” Dottie said. “She’s a very bright child, just like her mother. I need to pick her up from a play date in a few minutes, as a matter of fact.” Her eyes were kind and the palest blue imaginable. “Maybe you could call Winnie and she can meet you somewhere? I could stay with Chloe if you want to take her to dinner?”

  At least he’d met with the approval of this woman. “Perhaps another time.”

  She nodded. “I’ll be sure and tell her you stopped by.”

  “Thanks, Dottie. If you could, please tell her I’d like to speak with her. It’s important.”

  “I’ll do that. It’s nice to meet you, Josh.” She started to close the door but paused halfway. “I hope I’ll see you again sometime.”

  “Same here. Thank you.”

  Lost in thought, he walked to his car parked in the adjacent lot while still in full view of the apartment. If Winnie returned home to find him parked in front of her door, she’d probably flee in the opposite direction. She seemed prone to flight, as it was. He climbed into his car and then drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Saying a quick prayer, he kept his eyes trained on the apartment, sliding down further in the leather seat.

  A couple of boys played catch nearby and they cast wary glances in his direction. Turning his head, Josh ignored them, hoping they’d return the favor. He didn’t have long to wait before Dottie left the apartment on foot. Walking with a determined air, she headed toward a nearby street. For a split second, Josh considered following her. Better not. It wouldn’t bode well for his reputation to be charged with a stalking accusation.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Josh jumped. One of the boys stood beside his open window. His adolescent voice cracked with righteous anger—a zealous kid protecting his neighborhood, a thing to be admired. A scowl downturned the corners of his mouth.

  “I’m waiting for someone,” he said to the little vigilante. He countered the kid’s dark eyes with a matching stare. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Oh, he ain’t worried,” a lanky, mop-headed boy said, coming alongside the first boy and propping an arm on his shorter friend’s shoulder. “We thought maybe you was FBI, CIA, CSI or one of those guys, what with your fancy car and all.” Stepping back, he eyed the dark BMW with an approving nod.

  Josh’s grin slipped out. “Sorry to disappoint you. I’m not FBI or anything else with three initials.” He almost chuckled at the expressions on their faces but played it straight. “I’m just your routine, average, run-of-the-mill lawyer.”

  “My mom hates lawyers,” the first kid said. “Says all they do is take her money and don’t do nothin’ to earn it.”

  “Then she should get another one,” Josh said. “Some of us try to do the right thing by our clients.”

  “Maybe he’s spying on your mom?” the second kid said. “She’s coming home soon, right?”

  The first kid nodded and his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “My dad send you to spy on us?”

  “That’s enough, guys,” Josh said, starting to open the car door. “No one sent me here. I’m here on my own time.”

  “Okay, okay,” the lanky one said. “We was just leaving, anyway.”

  “Hey, kid,” Josh called after them. Both turned back. “Tell your mom to call the Houston Bar Association. I’m sure they could recommend someone who’d do right by her.” And make sure you get to English class more often.

  The kid look confused. “Say what?”

  “The H-B-A. Tell her to look for a lawyer at
the HBA.”

  The initial thing must have computed. “You with this HBA thing?”

  “Afraid not.”

  The second kid slapped his friend’s shoulder. “Didn’t you see his plate? He ain’t from here. He’s from Louisiana.” He shot Josh a half-grin. “Thanks, man. Carry on.” They disappeared together into a nearby apartment.

  “Don’t mention it.” Josh settled back in his seat. He was rewarded when Dottie came around the corner and into view ten minutes later. Holding onto her hand and skipping was a little girl with shoulder-length, blonde curly hair and a pink bow on one side. This had to be Chloe. Adorable. She wore a pretty outfit the same color as her hair bow and held a book in her other hand. For some unknown reason, that pleased him. His eyes trailed to her pink and white sandals. Josh hunched forward, leaning both elbows on the steering wheel as he stared out the front window. She looks just like her mother. Same color hair, same nose and—as they came closer into his range—even the perfect shape of her lips looked like Winnie’s. Incredible.

  Dottie laughed at something Chloe said, and the girl wrinkled her nose. Through the open window, he heard her giggle, making his heart skip a few beats. She looked two, maybe three years old? It was hard to tell with kids, and he hadn’t been around enough of them to know. He glanced at his watch as Dottie and Chloe disappeared into the apartment. Ten after five. Hopefully, Dottie was right and Winnie would return home soon. An unexpected sense of urgency seized him as something he couldn’t define nagged the back of his brain. Help me be patient, Lord.

  Winnie pulled Ladybug into a reserved parking space a couple of minutes before five-thirty. Right on time. He watched as she climbed out and reached into the back of the small car, pulling out a plastic box. She’d changed into a pretty blue dress, and her hair was pulled back in its usual ponytail like earlier. He wondered where she’d been. None of your business, man.

  A long, flowered scarf was tied around her waist like a belt and trailed behind her. When she leaned against the car door, closing it with her hip, the scarf caught in the door. Josh pushed his fist against his mouth to stop from hollering out the window to warn her. If he revealed his presence now, it would not endear her to him. He wasn’t overly fond of himself as it was. He winced when the scarf ripped as she started toward the apartment. Winnie turned back around and let out a small cry. Her sigh was palpable as she put the plastic box on the ground and opened the car door again. Pulling out the shredded remains of the scarf, she examined the damage.

  Why did he feel the irrational urge to run to the nearest department store and buy her a handful of pretty scarves? He shook his head. You’re around her a few days and you’re already falling over the edge. Maybe he’d been without a woman in his life for too long but there were valid reasons for that self-imposed exile. Reasons that had everything to do with self-respect and leading a life honoring to the Lord. But before he made any confessions, Josh had to know about Winnie’s mini-me. Waiting until he saw Dottie depart a short time later, he stepped out of his car and walked with slow, purposeful steps toward her apartment.

  He stood there a full minute, staring at the door, as different thoughts battled for supremacy in his cluttered mind. What if she refused to let him in, wouldn’t allow him to meet her daughter? Now that he’d seen the child, he was more determined than ever. It was a burning need he couldn’t understand.

  Enough. Get on with it.

  Chapter 16

  Fisting his fingers, Josh rapped on the door, loud enough to get her attention but not so loud as to be obnoxious.

  “Just a minute!” A few seconds passed. “Who is it?” He imagined Winnie standing on the other side of the door, peering at him through the peephole.

  “It’s Josh.”

  “Josh!” Unless he was mistaken, that was more than surprise in her voice.

  Splaying the fingers of his right hand against the door, he leaned close. How to explain? “I’d like to”—he hesitated for a split second—“Winnie, can we talk?” He prayed she’d let him in.

  “Um, sure. Okay. Can we meet somewhere in a little bit? I’m not dressed.” From the muffled sound of her voice, she probably had one hand halfway over her mouth. A few seconds passed before he heard the security chain being removed. Winnie opened the door, wearing a white, plush bathrobe and an expression of something he couldn’t define. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

  “Sorry to show up unannounced, but we need to talk.”

  She leaned against the door, crossing her arms. “So you said. What do you—oh!” Her eyes widened and she flailed her arms, losing her balance as the door swung back and hit the wall.

  Instincts kicked in. He hadn’t made a catch so fast since he played Tigers baseball at LSU. He crushed her against his chest as he swept her in his arms. Planting a foot on the carpet to steady his balance, he wrapped his hands around her waist—that tiny, trim waist.

  She laughed a little but it came out more of a snort. “If we were in one of those romantic comedies, this would be the point where I’d have some cute, witty thing to say.” She pushed away from him, gently disengaging his hands. “But I’ve got nothing, except to say thank you to the big, strong man for coming to my rescue,” she breathed. “Again.” A pretty pink flush spread upward from the V in the neck of her robe to her cheeks. “Makes me sound like a real liberated woman, huh?” She crossed her arms then uncrossed them before dropping them to her sides.

  “I like rescuing you, and I prefer to think of you as an independent woman. And you are definitely that, Miss Doyle.” Oh, but she was fetching, although now was not the time to tell her as much. Better to get on with it and spare her further embarrassment. Standing in front of a bunch of stuffed suits was nothing compared to this. Most of the work was done behind the scenes from the comfort of his office. By the time they sat down in the boardroom it was to sign the contracts. But, in this moment, he was rendered speechless. This woman standing in front of him now—in her bathrobe and barefoot—could hold her own with anyone, friend or foe. Maybe she was tougher than he thought?

  “You might as well have a seat, then. Let’s talk.” Winnie pulled the belt on her robe—her symbolic chastity belt perhaps—tightening it before waving him over to the sofa. Based on his thoughts at the moment, he couldn’t blame her.

  Keep me focused, Lord. Josh tore his gaze away with great effort and encompassed the small apartment in one sweeping glance. Neat and tidy, basic layout with no distinguishing characteristics other than personal touches to make it welcoming—throw pillows, flowers, photos, afghans. Chloe was nowhere in sight. She’d probably been sent to her room when Winnie realized it was him knocking at her door.

  Closing the door, Winnie walked across the room. “I need to change. I’ll be right back.”

  “You look fine. Stay.”

  Her pretty mouth settled in a firm line and she raised her chin. “I’d feel a whole lot less vulnerable if I’m fully dressed. It’ll only take a couple of minutes.”

  “Which shows you don’t trust me.”

  Her ponytail swung behind her, swishing back and forth, as she shook her head. It was enough to drive him to distraction. Every movement, every word, captivated him. Not that he didn’t trust himself, but perhaps it would be better for them both if she was fully dressed.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Trust has nothing to do with it.” The honest emotion in those big blue eyes had the potential to bring him to his knees.

  Man, get hold of yourself. “Then why should you feel vulnerable?” He raked his fingers through his hair. Two minutes into the conversation, and he was already blowing it. Forcing a deep breath, he stepped closer. Time to state his case. “You’re not a very good liar, Winnie.” Based on her stunned expression, he needed to clarify. “Why didn’t you want to tell me?”

  “I did tell you about her.” Now he’d disgruntled her. At least she no longer looked like she was on the verge of tears. Tears from Winnie had proved his weakness in t
he past, but he never wanted to be the cause of her angst. He’d much rather see that effervescent, slow-moving smile.

  “Not until I practically forced it out of you.”

  She raised her chin. “That’s hardly lying, Josh.”

  “Same difference. Call it the sin of omission then.”

  “Don’t talk to me about sin, if you please.”

  Better not answer that one if he didn’t want to be thrown out of the apartment. As it was, he teetered on the edge. Crossing the room, he dropped onto the sofa. “Please come sit down and let’s talk about this like two rational adults without trying to hurt each other with verbal arrows.”

  She stared at him for a prolonged moment. Watching her facial expressions was like following a revolving carousel of emotions. Winnie was nothing short of fascinating and as difficult to read as any woman he’d ever met. Without a word, she seated herself beside him, apparently wanting to be careful and keep a safe distance. Her nerves betrayed her as she pulled at the collar of the robe. Crossing her legs, she tugged at the hem when it gaped open in the front, revealing more of those gorgeous, long legs. He averted his eyes but caught her furtive glance in his direction as she pushed herself upright on the sofa and tucked her legs beneath her. Admirable though it was, her attempt at modesty only highlighted the fact that—wrapped any tighter in that robe—she’d be preserved like a mummy.

  “I don’t think any less of you because you have a child, and it has no bearing on wanting to spend time with you. If that’s the case—”

  “What would be the point?” Her eyes narrowed, her voice much stronger.

  “The point of what?”

  “Spending time together.”

  His lips pressed together in a firm, hard line. “You can’t tell me I was the only one enjoying those kisses last night.” Wanting more but knowing we needed to stop.

  Her frown grew deeper. “We’ve already discussed that. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but we’re getting off topic here.”