The Moment of Truth

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “I’ll bet the time you spent with him was good for him.”

  She didn’t see how. The creep had been all about what she could and should do for him. He’d paid little attention to anything Dana wanted.

  “How did he take it when you broke off the engagement?”

  “He pretended to be upset.” She’d never known, until that night, how good of an actor Keith could be. “I’m sure it was all show for his father’s sake.”

  “I’m guessing he’d grown to care about you and knew what he was losing.”

  “I think having gambling goons in dark clothes knocking at his door scared him into changing his ways. Keith acted like a tough guy, but underneath, he was just a selfish, spoiled, rich kid.”

  “I think you underestimate your own worth.”

  Her hand stilling on Lindy Lu’s head, Dana glanced at Josh and then down. Her mother used to tell her that all the time. That she underestimated her own worth. Those same words.

  “I don’t,” she said, telling herself not to read too much into Josh’s statement. He was a guy and guys seemed to think that they were supposed to tell women what they thought women wanted to hear. “I know that I’m good at a lot of things and I make choices that work to my strengths. I’m also honest with myself. I know where my assets aren’t as strong so I don’t give myself false hopes or rely on things that probably aren’t going to be.”

  She’d never put a lot of stock in her looks. Maybe because Rebecca and Lindsey were both classically beautiful and she’d always been the plain one. Or maybe she just placed more importance on other things.

  “What assets are you lacking?”

  “That’s kind of a personal question, don’t you think?”

  The floor was hard and cold and her butt was beginning to ache. Jumping up, Dana set Lindy Lu gently in the packing box she’d brought her home in, walked to the kitchen, pulled out an opened bottle of wine and poured herself a glass. “You want some?” she asked Josh, who’d followed her in.

  “You ever try beer?”

  “I hate it. Can’t stand hard liquor, either. Much to Keith’s disappointment.”

  “I’d like a glass of wine, thank you.” He took the stem of the glass she handed him, holding it in front of him while she poured a second glass. “So is that one of the assets you lack?” he asked as she corked the bottle and put it back in the refrigerator. “You’re not a drinker?”

  Why was he doing this?

  Turning toward him, Dana raised her glass to her lips.

  “Wait!”

  She pulled the glass back without sipping. “What?”

  “I’d like to offer a toast.”

  He was making her nervous. But she held up her glass and waited.

  “To you, Dana Harris, the woman who sees far more than she knows and is kind enough to share her vision with the rest of us.”

  His arm stretched forward, he held out his glass to hers, but Dana hesitated. Was he making fun of her?

  Sincerity shone from the depths of his eyes.

  “To you, Josh Redmond,” she said in return. “A man who is confusing the hell out of me.”

  The clink of glasses broke her gaze from his and Dana sipped.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  THEY PUT THE PUPPIES outside and sat at the little black wrought-iron table on Dana’s patio. Telling himself that L.G. and Lindy Lu were fine, Josh settled back against the cushioned chair and sipped his wine.

  “I want you to know that I have had regular checkups my entire life and I do not, nor have I ever had, any kind of STD,” he said, the cover of darkness working for him. “I also don’t generally have sex without wearing a condom. I’m sorry.”

  All the women he knew used the pill to protect against pregnancy, but there was still the danger of passing on a virus.

  “It’s a bit late now to worry about it,” she said. “Although I was upset with myself for not taking precautions. That was stupid. Luckily it was my safe time of the month.”

  Safe time of the month. Josh started to sweat.

  “You aren’t on the pill?”

  “No.”

  He couldn’t believe it. And had to stay calm.

  “You sound pretty sure of your cycle,” he said, thankful for the darkness that hid his panic.

  “I am. Completely.”

  “Because you have to understand, I can’t be a father.” Blurting was so unlike him. And not calm at all. “There is absolutely no way...”

  Grown adults couldn’t depend on him. How could a child? Slightly sick at the thought of such a horrendously cruel twist of fate, Josh shook his head. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, Josh, I’m sure.”

  He’d irritated her. But he couldn’t stop. “Why aren’t you on the pill?” Who wasn’t these days?

  “No real reason to be, so why risk the side effects? STDs are more of a threat to me than pregnancy and, because of them, I wasn’t willing to consider sex without a condom, anyway, so...”

  She spoke with all of the calm he so desperately wanted.

  “I’m assuming you’ve always taken precautions in the past?”

  “I’ve never had unprotected sex. And I have regular checkups, too,” she added. “I’ve never had an STD.”

  “You emphasized the ‘I.’”

  “My little sister had one once. She was sixteen, and while she was lucky and it was easily treatable, it broke my mom’s heart. And scared the hell out of all of us. Which is why I wouldn’t consider sex without a condom. I can’t believe I took such a risk. It’s not like me.”

  “Why did you?”

  “Because I underestimated the power of physical attraction,” she said. “I’ve never come close to...” She glanced down. “I had no idea I could lose my head like that. In the past, there was no problem remembering to use protection.”

  His palms getting moist as he thought of her “losing her head,” Josh took a sip of wine. Even with the pill scare, he wanted her.

  “You threw caution to the wind,” he summed up.

  “Yeah, I guess I did.”

  “A first for you.”

  “But not for you, I take it.”

  “As a matter of fact, sexually, it was. But I’ve done stupid things before. A lot of them.” His voice dropped. “I’m still paying for some of the things I’ve done.” He drew from the speech he’d rehearsed, and dismissed, more than once over the weekend. “Until I’ve paid my debt, and I’m not talking financially, until I find some way to atone for my past actions, I can’t be relied on for anything.”

  Not as a lover, a friend...or a father.

  “That’s ludicrous.”

  Whatever reaction he’d been expecting from her, it wasn’t that.

  “I’m being honest, Dana. This isn’t a conversation, it’s a warning. We can be friends as long as you don’t expect anything from me.”

  “Your awareness of your shortcomings is more than most people bring to a relationship.”

  This wasn’t working. “If you can’t accept that there can be no expectations between us, we can’t be friends.” There, he couldn’t put it any plainer than that.

  “What are you so worried about? The fact that I might ask you to do something you won’t want to do, or the idea that I might think there’s something between us, thus preventing you from exploring other avenues?”

  “What in the hell are you talking about?”

  Dana took a sip of wine and looked toward the puppies, but they weren’t doing anything but lying there, lit only by the small security light in the back of the yard and the glow from the kitchen.

  “Let me ask you this, Josh. Do you want to be able to uphold any expectations I might have of you?”

  “Of course. But wanting and d
oing are not the same thing.”

  “Do you intend to do as you said you would and come over on Tuesday night to help me out with Jerome?”

  “I said I would.”

  “And you always do as you say you’re going to do.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “That’s the definition of reliable,” she said, sounding satisfied.

  She just wasn’t getting it. He finished his wine and stood up.

  “I’m a selfish bastard, Dana. Just take my word for it.” Picking up L.G. in one hand, he scooped up her little ball of warmth in the other and handed the puppy to her. “For his sake—” he held out the dog in his care “—I’d appreciate it very much if you’d still come check on him throughout the week whenever you can make it. I’ll be here Tuesday after work.”

  And without daring to look back at her, to plant whatever expression she might be wearing in his mind, he left.

  * * *

  LILLIE CALLED JUST after Josh left on Sunday night, preventing Dana from giving in to the need to have a good cry.

  “We’ve decided on a name and thought you’d like to know,” the child life specialist said, sounding almost like a kid herself. “We’re calling him Harrison, after you.”

  “Don’t you think that’s kind of hard for Abe to say?”

  “Hold on a second.”

  Dana held on, happier than Lillie or Jon would know that they considered her enough of a friend to even call and tell her the puppy’s name, let alone name it after her.

  She heard rustling of the phone and then, in the distance, Jon’s voice saying, “Who is this, Abe?”

  “Harrryyy,” Abe said in his childish slur, and Dana grinned from ear to ear.

  She’d helped build another family unit. And had a new member of her own family, as well.

  Life was good.

  Damned good.

  * * *

  JOSH COULD BE FORGIVEN for looking forward to dinner at Dana’s Tuesday night. Especially with her scent lingering in his house when he’d gone home for lunch, reminding him of...her.

  Olivia, Ian’s wife’s friend, had phoned Monday night, inviting him to join a group at the country club for drinks, but he’d declined.

  He didn’t want Olivia getting any ideas about him. Nor did he really want to run with the country club crowd. It would be too much like his old life. And he would risk running into someone who knew him—and also knew Cassie and Sam. Someone who might try to introduce them.

  He left work on time on Tuesday and made it to Dana’s place before the kid who had the hots for her.

  Dana was being modest about it. But Josh knew better. If the kid was male and had spent any time at all alone with Dana, he’d have the hots for her.

  Which was why Josh stayed right by Dana’s side, acting like a devoted boyfriend, the entire ten minutes Jerome was in the house.

  “That’s it, then,” Josh said, scooping L.G. up under his arm the second the younger man left. “I’ll get out of your way.”

  The house was too small, too intimate, for just the two of them. “I thought you were staying for dinner,” Dana said from the kitchen. “At least take a container to go.”

  He was selfish enough to accept the gift. Then he got the hell out of there.

  If he’d stayed, he’d risk giving her the wrong idea. Telling her she couldn’t rely on him and then hanging out and letting her get more attached was making lies out of his words.

  If there was one clear thing he’d learned from his relationship with Michelle it was that actions spoke louder than words. He’d never told her he was in love with her. But he’d bought her a ring and planned a lifetime with her. His actions had told her she could count on him.

  Dana was far too important to him to risk leaving any false impressions.

  * * *

  It worked! Jerome asked about you in class this morning. And he’s bringing a girl from the computer club to Thanksgiving dinner! Thank you.

  The text arrived while Josh was sitting in the campus pub with Ian Wednesday night.

  Glad I could help. No need for thanks.

  “Olivia’s called the house three times in the past week,” Ian was saying, working his way slowly through a second mug of beer. “She wants to know what you thought of her.”

  “She’s nice.” Josh dropped his phone back into its case. He’d been home, heated up the last of the frozen barbecue and spent half an hour with L.G. before heading out again.

  Too much silence wasn’t good for a guy who wasn’t used to any silence at all.

  “She seems to have it bad for you, man,” Ian continued. “I think you can pretty much call the shots on that one.”

  Josh shrugged. “I’m not really looking....”

  The other man nodded. “You want me to blow her off for you?”

  “Wouldn’t be a bad thing if you could steer her in another direction. It’s nothing against her...”

  “Gotcha.”

  “And tell Amy—”

  “Not to find anyone else for now.”

  Looking into his beer, Josh grimaced and glanced up. “Sorry to be such an ass.”

  “No, man, actually, it’s cool. Much better to let her know up front so no one gets hurt.”

  Josh sipped his beer. “But if your wife doesn’t mind a third wheel, I’d love to treat the two of you to dinner in Phoenix,” he said. He was making a life here. He had to have friends.

  “Hell, I’m never one to pass up a free meal. But only if you come for dinner Saturday night,” Ian said. “Amy’s making lasagna and wanted me to ask you.”

  Josh raised an eyebrow, and Ian quickly added, “Olivia has not been invited, and now won’t be.”

  “You might want to check with your wife to make certain the invitation’s still open,” Josh said.

  “No need.” Ian grinned. “You were a hit with my wife, man. She really liked you, and not just as someone for me to hang out with.”

  “She’s looking for someone for you to hang out with?”

  “Nah, just likes to know that when she’s working late, I’m not out gallivanting with a clod who doesn’t know how to behave himself.”

  “What time’s dinner?” Josh asked, motioning for one more beer.

  “Depends on whether or not we play golf first.”

  Loosening his tie just enough to get the knot off his Adam’s apple, he grinned. “What time’s golf?”

  “I can put us in for eleven if you want to go eighteen.”

  L.G. would be alone for five hours.

  “You got a fenced backyard?”

  “Doesn’t everybody around here? Got to keep the coyotes out.”

  “Would Amy mind if I bring my dog to dinner? I can go eighteen if L.G. can come to dinner.”

  “Amy loves animals. She’s been bugging me for a pup.”

  With a chuckle, Josh said, “You mind if I bring my dog?”

  “Bring him on. I know when I’m facing a losing battle and I’ve learned not to fight them.”

  “And I know someone who can find you a puppy whenever you’re ready.”

  “Better give him a call. I have a feeling I’m going to be ready any time now....” Ian broke off as the door opened and a guy wearing a pair of expensive-looking jeans and a tweed jacket walked in. At first glance, with the clothes and longish, disheveled hair, Josh thought he was a student. One of the many well-to-do kids that populated Montford’s campus.

  “Sam!” Ian called out. Josh could see some signs of aging on the man’s features as he turned toward them. He was definitely not a kid.

  He didn’t put the pieces together, though, didn’t realize the situation he was in, until Ian said, “You have to meet Sam Montford. He’s one of the school’s biggest supporters.”


  Shit. He’d known that the Montford family was one of the university’s largest contributors, that there might be a time when, at a fund-raising black-tie affair, he’d have to arrange with Cassie to keep his distance from her and her husband.

  “What’s Sam Montford doing in here?” he said under his breath to Ian as Ian motioned for another beer. And how the hell did a regular guy like Ian know him well enough to call him over to their table?

  “Sam’s a great guy,” Ian said. “Not the country club type.”

  Holding his hand out to Ian, Sam Montford stopped at their table. And Josh stared. If he didn’t know better he’d swear that his Grandfather Montford had just emerged from a fountain of youth.

  Josh took after his father’s side of the family in looks, but the fact that he didn’t look like a Montford wasn’t going to protect his identity from this one.

  Setting his jaw and flashing one of his infamous Redmond grins, he wasn’t ready at all as Ian turned to him.

  “Josh, this is Sam Montford. Sam, meet our new miracle worker, Josh Redmond. He’s only in his second week and already freed up enough monies to...” Josh didn’t hear the rest.

  He was face-to-face with a blood relative he’d never met and wasn’t going to acknowledge. Nothing in the social rule book to guide him on this one.

  Sam was grinning at him and could blow his cover at any moment. If he’d had any idea at all that Montford ever set foot in the college pub, he’d have declined the invitation to be there. And to think that his concern about running into the Montfords at the country club had been unfounded.

  After hesitating a long moment, Sam held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Josh.”

  “You, too.” Shit. He should have tacked on a “sir.” He should have stood up. Showed the deference he was used to receiving.

  The waitress delivered their round of beers and Sam Montford slid onto the third of the four stools at their high-top table, staring at Josh.

  “So, you’re the new miracle worker,” Sam said, still grinning.

  The man was his cousin, albeit a couple of generations removed. Still, he was his flesh and blood—and heir to the other half of the Montford dynasty. For so long, Josh had carried that responsibility alone. And, according to Cassie Montford, some guy named Ben Sanders fit in there someplace, too. He obviously hadn’t been on his mother’s genealogy report. She’d told him the only cousins were Sam and him.