No. Even she didn’t know if that was true. Two dark-haired people could still have a blond child—she’d looked that up.
She heard the Rowsons walking down the hall toward the guest bedroom and shrank inside herself a little more. If they suspected Liam might not be Drew’s son, Drew had also considered the possibility. Which explained the great pains he’d taken to have nothing to do with Liam. Just like his parents. Yet Drew had never said a word. Why not? Why the hell not?
It felt like she’d been punched in the gut. Too much, Drew’s murder, his parents showing up and now this. No matter what happened, what a DNA test might reveal, Jesse would never look at her the same. She didn’t understand why that mattered to her, but it did.
She fell asleep with the lights still on. She woke up several hours later, feeling gritty and groggy and confused.
The clock on the nightstand read 3:18 a.m. The deep of the night, the precursor to dawn. She’d walked the halls at this time often when Liam had been an infant, feeding him, comforting him, trying to keep him quiet so Drew could sleep. She recalled her pregnancy, when she and Drew had shared the king-size bed. He’d never held her then, even during the worst of her pregnancy, when she’d felt huge and ugly and unlovable. When she’d asked him why, he’d said he couldn’t sleep when touching another person. Like everything else, she’d accepted his choice. He hadn’t seemed loving or devoted or even kind, but she’d kept telling herself that would change once the baby was born, once he became a father in addition to a husband.
But it hadn’t. And once again, she’d let herself accept it.
How long ago all that seemed now. Now Drew was dead and she honestly couldn’t mourn his loss, though she felt sorrow because he’d lost his life in a senseless act of violence.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she tugged down her long T-shirt and then, just in case, grabbed a pair of running shorts and stepped into them. Slipping on some flip-flops, she padded down the hall toward Liam’s nursery. Her precious baby boy slept deeply, the night-light illuminating his impossibly long lashes and unruly golden curls.
Jesse. Pushing the thought of him out of her head, she went downstairs. The absolute silence of the house, broken only by the muted sound of the refrigerator running, soothed her. She got a glass of water from the door in the fridge and carried it outside onto the back patio.
The motion sensor lights flicked on, illuminating the seating area and the motionless figure who sat there. Heart in her throat, she froze. Jesse.
Quickly she stumbled backward, toward the relative safety of the house.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice weary. “Stay.”
Undecided, she didn’t move.
“Seriously, Eva. I can leave if you want me to. Clearly, you couldn’t sleep either. I wouldn’t mind your company. Up to you.”
She swallowed and closed the door behind her. It felt incredibly awkward, but she sat, staring straight ahead and sipping her water. She’d come out here hoping to gather her mind, but Jesse had managed to turn her into a mess.
The silence stretched out between them, as wide as the gulf between the kinds of lives they lived.
“I’m sorry,” she finally offered. “Honestly, with you out of my life, it didn’t seem to matter.”
“Did you not think it would matter to me?” The anguish in his voice cut her wide open. Worse, she knew he was right. She’d just never allowed herself to think about even the possibility or the ramifications if anyone learned of the possibility that Drew hadn’t been Liam’s father.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asked. “I’ve been here for three weeks. You never said a word.”
She bowed her head. “I resented my father for sending you, and you for showing up. I didn’t need the disruption, the distractions, the temptation, damn it. I wasn’t going to bring up something that was—still is—a remote possibility.”
Again, that awkward silence. She swore she could hear her heartbeat in her ears. Maybe she should have gone back inside, but they needed to have this conversation, needed to clear the air between them.
“I’m sorry, Jesse,” she repeated, letting some of her own exhaustion creep into her voice. “I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know how to make it right.”
She knew what he’d say next, and she couldn’t blame him. He’d continue to demand a DNA test so he’d know the truth about Liam. And while he’d be well within his rights, she’d have to ask him to wait until after the funeral and the media circus was over. She might not have truly loved Drew, but she owed him at least that much respect.
Instead, Jesse once again surprised her. He pushed to his feet and moved over to the chair next to her. Cupping his large hand under her chin, he raised her face so she would look at him.
“I should never have let you go,” he said roughly. “Worst mistake of my entire life.”
She wanted to tell him he was wrong. Choosing the club over her had been his worst mistake. She’d given him a choice and he’d made his. Nothing he could say or do now would undo that.
Despite knowing that, she couldn’t make herself look away.
Nothing but trouble. She remembered Drew’s dismissive words when he’d figured out she and Jesse had been a couple once. Drew’s ego had been large enough that he’d never had a single doubt she could ever prefer another man to him. He’d never tired of telling her how lucky she should consider herself that he’d chosen her as his wife. What went unsaid was that he meant to make her his wife in name only.
She couldn’t believe she’d once made herself accept that from him. Drew had never been a full partner; he hadn’t even bothered to pretend. And she, she’d allowed her own light to dim. So much so that she wasn’t at all certain she could find it again. If not for the fierceness of her love for her son, she thought her light would have been snuffed out a year or so ago.
Now Drew was gone. Though she had absolutely nothing to do with his murder, she couldn’t suppress a sliver of guilt. Their marriage had long been over, a union in name only, and she’d spent a fair amount of time daydreaming about what her life would be like without him in it.
Blinking, she pulled herself out of her thoughts and forced herself to focus on right here and right now. The man she’d once loved more than life itself sat next to her, asking for a second chance. At least that’s what she thought he meant.
But the Brothers of Sin would always be between them. Jesse hadn’t said a single word about quitting the club.
She opened her mouth to respond, and then realized she had no idea what to say. Instead, she shook her head and looked down, her heart hurting almost as much as her head.
“I shouldn’t have let you go,” he repeated, the intensity of his gaze burning into her.
Trembling now, she backed away, holding his gaze steady with her own. “That wasn’t up to you. I made my choice. We both wanted different things, different lifestyles. I grew up a part of BOS. I know what that club entails. I wanted a different kind of life than that. And you… You didn’t.”
He didn’t respond. How could he, when she was right? She knew he had no words, at least not truthful ones, with which to refute her statement. She asked him to choose her or the club. He’d made his choice. Now he’d have to live with it. Regrets or not.
“Now I have a son,” she continued. “No way in hell am I introducing Liam to that lifestyle. I want better for him.”
“I agree,” he replied, surprising her. “But he should also know his grandfather. I know Raul truly loves him.”
“Does he?” Privately, she doubted that. Ever since she’d left the club, things had been strained between her and her father. “Is that why he’s only seen Liam a couple of times?”
“It’s a two-way street,” he pointed out. “He’s made an effort to try and see you every time he came up here to meet with your husband. But you ha
ven’t even once taken Liam to Houston to visit Raul or any of your BOS brothers.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Did he put you up to saying that?”
“Not really. I’ll admit he’s complained more than once about not really knowing his own grandson.”
At that, she looked down. But not before she knew he’d seen the flash of pain across her face. “I love my father,” she said softly. “I really do. I just don’t love his lifestyle. He’s always welcome to visit me and Liam here. I just won’t go there. I made that clear to him when I was pregnant. How often he sees his grandson is actually his choice.”
The conviction in her voice must have gotten through to him because he finally held up both his hands in defeat. “I get it. It’s between the two of you and I’ll butt out. But to change the subject, you know Raul has his fingers on the pulse of things. If he says you’re in danger, then you are. Both of you.”
“I know.” She jerked away, hating that she felt bereft without his touch. “And I need to take steps to protect my son. I just don’t know what. Maybe I should hire more bodyguards.”
“Raul is sending some Brothers. At least three or four. They should be here tomorrow,” he said. “And before you say anything, Raul is aware you might not like that, but what’s done is done. They’ll work just fine as bodyguards.” He gave her a look, clearly daring her to disagree.
Though she tightened her mouth, she finally nodded. While she wasn’t sure how she felt about her father once again taking control, to the Brothers she was all of their sister. They’d die for her. She loved them, each and every damn one of them, despite not wanting to be associated with the club anymore.
“You know what? They will.” Stifling a yawn with her hand, she glanced past him toward the back door. “I think I might be able to sleep now. I’m going to go back to bed.”
As she pushed to her feet, she heard a sharp crack, like a car backfiring. Before she could breathe, Jesse slammed into her, knocking her to the ground.
“Stay down,” he muttered. “That’s a gunshot.”
Before he’d even finished speaking, she heard several more shots in rapid succession. Behind her, the wall of windows in the breakfast room imploded.
Panic clawing at her, all she could think about was Liam.
“Let me go.” She pushed at Jesse, trying to move him off her. “I need to get to my son.”
“Not yet.” He continued to hold her down. “Whoever is shooting is still out there. If you get up, you’ll make too easy of a target. You don’t want to leave Liam without a mom, do you?”
Put like that… She stopped struggling.
In the distance, she heard a siren. Someone must have called the sheriff’s office. She prayed Liam would stay asleep and the Rowsons too.
As the siren drew closer, tires squealed on pavement and a vehicle raced away.
“Now is it safe?” she asked, squirming against Jesse’s dead weight on top of her.
“Give it one more minute.”
He’d barely finished speaking when the back door opened and Ted Rowson stuck his head out. “What’s going on out here?” he demanded. His eyes widened when he caught sight of Jesse and Eva on the pavement.
“Get inside,” Jesse ordered. “Now. And turn off the lights. Those were gunshots.”
The older man stepped back inside and closed the door.
“Now,” Jesse said, easing his weight off Eva. “Stay low and let’s go.”
Crouched over double, she rushed toward the door and yanked it open. Glass crunched underfoot as she hurried through the kitchen area, heading for the stairs. On the way there, she encountered Beth Rowson, rubbing her eyes and yawning. She wore a fuzzy white bathrobe that must have been overly warm, though she didn’t appear uncomfortable.
“What’s going on?” Beth asked, her voice heavy with sleep.
“Someone shot up the back of the house,” Eva told her as she ran for the stairs. “I’m going to check on Liam.”
She took the stairs two at a time. At the top, she forced herself to slow down and try to breathe. If the noise hadn’t woken Liam, she didn’t want to alarm him with her own panic.
Unbelievably, her son still slept soundly, completely undisturbed. She also peeked into Kara’s room. The nanny also hadn’t been awakened. Which was sort of a relief. The fewer people she had to deal with right now, the better.
Back downstairs, she found her in-laws huddled together in the kitchen in the dark, still taking care to stay away from any windows.
“Did you call 911?” Ted demanded, his voice shaky.
“Not yet, but—”
“Law enforcement is here,” Jesse said, halfway between the kitchen and the front door. “I think you can turn on the lights now. Be careful around the broken glass.”
Eva went with him to meet the police. Until now, adrenaline had kept her moving. With that gone, terror had set in and she’d started shaking so hard her teeth chattered. Even worse, she wasn’t sure how to stop.
“Deep breaths,” Jesse said, taking her arm to steady her. “You’ll get through this. Let’s make the report and then we’ll start cleaning things up.”
She nodded, unsure what she might sound like if she spoke. As she headed toward the front, one of the officers rang the bell.
Once she’d opened the door, she invited them in. She led them through the house, realizing for the first time she wore only a T-shirt and shorts, with no bra or underwear. She showed them the broken windows and then she and Jesse reported on what had happened while they were outside on the back patio.
The deputies began snapping photographs, one of them taking notes. They stepped through the room, broken glass cracking underfoot, talking quietly among themselves. When they moved outside, Beth spoke up.
“What were you doing outside at three in the morning?” Beth managed to sound outraged rather than concerned.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Eva explained, hearing the complete lack of emotion in her own voice and realizing she was beyond caring what anyone thought of her. “I went outside to get some air.”
And, of course, both Beth’s and Ted’s gazes drifted from Eva to Jesse and back again, hers narrow and his appraising.
“Both of you had difficulty sleeping?” Beth finally asked, her suspicion clear in her snide tone.
“Yes.” Eva stared at the older woman, practically daring her to speak her thoughts out loud. Right now she felt as if she was walking on the edge of a narrow precipice. Drew was dead, and all the bickering or accusations in the world were not going to change that.
Momentarily, she covered her face with her hands. She still couldn’t shake the out-of-body feeling, like none of what was happening could possibly be real. In the space of a few days, her husband had been murdered, she’d learned Drew and her in-laws hadn’t believed Liam was his son or their grandson, and now Jesse had come to the same realization. The news vans remained parked in front of her house and they’d been unable to plug in the landline phone due to the high volume of calls.
Now it seemed someone truly wanted to kill her, exactly like her father had said. She just wanted to grab her son and figure out a way to disappear.
Of course, she couldn’t, she wouldn’t. She’d dig deep and find the strength to deal with all of this and whatever else the universe decided to throw her way.
“You’re lucky you had your bodyguard with you,” Ted finally said, his voice gruff. “Seems like Drew knew what he was doing, hiring one. You might have been shot.”
“Excuse me.” The deputies returned from checking out the patio area. “We need to take your statements. Both of you.”
Eva went first, keeping her explanation concise and to the point. Standing next to her, the only thing Jesse had to add was the way the shot had seemed to come from high up, like the shooter might have been in a tree or on the roof of another house.
The two officers exchanged glances. “Judging from the angle of some of the bullets, you might just be right. Is there anything else you’d like to add?”
Eva shook her head. Jesse said no and then escorted the policemen out.
When he returned, Eva met his gaze gratefully. An awkward silence had fallen in the kitchen. As she was about to say good-night and flee to her room, Beth’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm.
“I think we deserve the truth,” the other woman said, her tone hard. “Are you two sleeping together? Eva, have you been cheating on my son with this man?”
CHAPTER 5
Though Beth Rowson’s question appeared to shock Eva, Jesse wasn’t surprised to hear her ask it. Ever since their arrival, Drew’s parents had been desperate in their grief to assign blame for the loss of their son. Latching on to the possibility that their son might have been cuckolded would be a diversion from what had to be intense heartache.
While he knew she would naturally find this insulting, and he couldn’t blame her, he could only hope Eva somehow understood and went easy on them. From Raul Mendoza’s fiery-natured daughter, he knew that would be asking a lot.
Straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin, Eva looked from one to the other, her eyes gleaming with what looked like unshed tears. “No, ma’am, I am not sleeping with my bodyguard. I’ve been with no one but Drew since the day we got married.” She took a deep breath, her tone measured and calm. “To be honest, it’s upsetting that you’d even consider something like that. I know you lost your son, but I lost my husband too.”
Her husband. Hell’s bells, but Jesse actually felt jealous of a dead man. When he’d first learned of her marriage to Drew Rowson, he’d wanted to break something. He’d gone on a two-day bender, despite the danger of losing focus on his real job. Something in him had died that day, even though he’d known she’d eventually marry someone else. A happy ending had never been in the cards for him and Eva. Trite as it sounded, there actually were times when love just wasn’t going to be enough. Still, he knew he’d never forget her. Or stop loving her. He wasn’t built like that. He’d figured time would eventually blunt the sharp edges of his loss and perhaps that might have happened. Except it hadn’t. When Raul had sent him up here to watch over Eva, Jesse had figured the more than two-year time span would have put enough distance between them to give him perspective. He’d been shocked when, instead of finding a happy, glowing Eva doting over her beloved husband, he’d seen two people living remote and separate lives. Not a marriage at all.
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