The Gift of Love
Page 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
for the Love of wendy - LORI FOSTER
one
two
three
four
ava’s haven - JULES BENNETT
one
two
three
four
five
skin deep - HEIDI BETTS
one
two
three
four
five
six
seven
atticus gets a mommy - ANN CHRISTOPHER
one
two
three
four
five
the redemption of brodie grant - LISA COOKE
one
two
three
four
the wolf watcher’s diet - PAIGE CUCCARO
one
two
three
four
five
six
seven
a fairy precious love - GIA DAWN
one
two
three
four
five
second time around - HELENKAY DIMON
one
two
three
four
five
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PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation trade paperback edition / June 2010
Library of Congess Cataloging-in-Publication Data
The gift of love / Lori Foster … [et al.].—Berkley Sensation trade paperback ed.
p. cm.
eISBN : 978-1-101-43468-0
1. Domestic fiction, American. 2. Families—Fiction. 3. Love—Fiction. 4. American literature—
21st century. I. Foster, Lori, 1958—
PS648.F27G54 2010
813’.0108355—dc22 2010004308
http://us.penguingroup.com
for the Love of wendy
LORI FOSTER
one
Standing at the dining room window, hands stuffed in the pockets of his dress pants, his tie hanging loose over a partially opened dress shirt, Jack Burke watched his five-year-old daughter in the backyard. Her movements were methodical and involved as she studied a yellow flower.
Sometimes his emotions overwhelmed him until he felt his eyes burn, until his throat tried to close with unending regrets, savage rage, and despair.
Though it had been five years, there were days that he felt the loss of his wife, Melanie, as the sharpest blow, as if it had just happened, as if the doctors were once again pushing him out of the way in a race to try to save her—and then later, presenting him with his premature child.
A daughter who looked like him.
A little girl Melanie would have loved with all her heart and soul—if she had lived. The emotional turmoil of losing a wife and gaining the responsibility of a precious, tiny child was enough to flatten him.
His baby girl had survived physically intact, but still not whole.
His heart didn’t give a damn; he couldn’t possibly love her more. To him, she was perfection in every way.
To the rest of the world, she was a child who had suffered trauma while still in the womb, and as a result, her intellectual maturity would never match that of her peers.
At birth, Wendy had weighed less than four pounds, and still she’d snuggled into Jack and seemed comforted by him. So little, so helpless—all he had left of Melanie.
He would raze the earth for her.
But what she really needed, what he knew would be best for Wendy, was a full-time mother. God knew he tried to give her everything, but he wasn’t obtuse. Children needed the influence of both a man and a woman, the balance of nature, the gift of united love.
It was past time.
Hands fisting, Jack drew a slow, deep breath, and then another. He could not keep doing this, strolling down memory lane, reliving that heartrending day. It helped no one, least of all his daughter.
With an effort, he switched his gaze from Wendy to Briana. For two years now, he’d known Bri, and he’d watched her care for his daughter, grow to love her. Briana treated Wendy as her own, and that’s what mattered.
At twenty-three, Briana was only nine years his junior, and she was so smart that carrying on a conversation was easy. But in many ways, physical ways, she still reminded him of a teenager. Rangy in build, doe-eyed, and too sweet, she gave the appearance of youth, yet she had the soul and compassion, the calm temperament and concrete sense of responsibility of a woman.
He saw Briana as a gifted academic, a cute brainiac who effortlessly juggled college with working part-time as Wendy’s care-giver. She was rarely sick, and he’d never heard her really complain. She showed a contagious enthusiasm for life and an intellectual understanding of people that sometimes left him amazed.
Sweat from the overly warm June day left the pixie cut of Briana’s short, dark hair a little glossy. Short, curled tendrils clung to her forehead, her temples, and her nape. As often happened, her glasses had slipped down the bridge of her nose, forcing her to tip her head back to see through them. Her gaze was serene and happy as she handed another flower to Wendy. Jack knew they were working on colors again, given all the yellow items laid out on the blanket.
Briana was so damn good with Wendy, so enduring and smart. And best of all, she made learning fun. She knew how to engage Wendy when so many others didn’t. Her positive influence was invaluable.
He and Wendy were lucky to have her. But as his mom had just pointed out during his routine visit with her, it wasn’t enough. We
ndy would benefit from having Briana around more. And he needed to get on with his life by looking to the future, instead of the past.
As painful as it would be, it was time to create a new family.
Determined, Jack slid open the door, took a step out to the patio, and waited.
Wendy looked up when Briana prompted her, and then she scurried to her feet, and in that silent, stilted way of hers, she ran to him.
Scooping her up, Jack held her close to his heart as he so often did, and he thanked God that even though Melanie hadn’t survived the awful collision, his baby had. Learning disabilities aside, she’d made it when the doctors had feared she might not.
He would always be eternally grateful.
Breathing in her sweet little girl scent, Jack kissed her sun-warmed cheek. “I love you,” he told her.
“I love you more,” she said back.
Even at five, there were few things Wendy said; sharing her love for him was one.
Calling out to Briana was another.
Jack felt Briana watching him, something she did a lot, as if curious about something, as if she looked at him in a more intimate manner than he viewed her.
Or at least, how he used to view her.
Now he looked at her, and he took in the charm of her big blue eyes behind wire-framed glasses, the wisdom in her demeanor, the lack of sophistication in her simple outfit of jeans and a college logo T-shirt. She’d kicked off her sneakers, and he saw that her feet were small, narrow.
Somehow appealing.
Jack felt a moment of guilt, then solid resolve.
“Briana.”
She stood and brushed off her backside. “We were just finishing up. Why don’t you two go in for a drink and cookies, and I’ll be there as soon as I gather up everything?”
Without looking at him again, she stepped into her shoes and then began putting the items all on the blanket to make it easier to carry them inside.
Wendy touched the front of her bright tank top and said, “Yellow.”
“Yes, yellow.” Pleased with her, Jack nuzzled her cheek until she squirmed and giggled. “Very pretty yellow.”
“Yellow,” she repeated.
Jack smiled. “Let’s go get a cookie, sweetheart. What do you say?”
Her green eyes, so much like his, lit up. She smiled and put her head on his shoulder. Seconds later she gave a huge, inelegant yawn.
Nap time was approaching fast, apparently.
Jack had just gotten Wendy settled in her seat with her snack on the table before her when Briana came in.
“What would you like to drink?”
She said, “You just got home. Sit down and I’ll get it.”
He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. They went through this routine every time, with Briana determined to go the extra mile, even when it wasn’t necessary. She was the most considerate person he’d ever known.
“My meeting didn’t last that long, and then I visited my mother.” That was something he did every Wednesday since his mother’s stroke. “You went to school and then tended my daughter. I’d say we’re even on being busy today.”
Briana tilted her head, seemed to consider his words, and then shrugged. “I’ll take milk.”
Why her choice of drink amused him, Jack wasn’t sure. Maybe because it only added to the idea of Briana being so young.
He poured her the milk and set the glass in front of her, and then prepared a cup of coffee for himself. “How were your classes?”
“Short day.” Propping her chin on a fist, she bit into a peanut butter cookie. “I’m free the rest of the day now.”
“Any work to do at home? Papers, studying?”
“Nope.”
“Good.” For some time now they’d coordinated their schedules around the time that Wendy needed them.
Just as parents would do.
Sometimes Briana worked too hard, carried too big of a load. He enjoyed seeing her with a little downtime.
Briana glanced over at Wendy and smiled. “It’s only two o’clock, and she’s already pooped out for the day. Look at her.”
So much affection sounded in her tone that Jack couldn’t help but be drawn to her. No, Briana didn’t physically fit his fantasy woman, but she loved his daughter, and that meant she could have been a gnome and he would still deeply care for her.
“Was it the sunshine?”
Bri nodded. “After her kindergarten class, she ran around the yard like a little monkey for twenty minutes before I could corral her.”
With cookie crumbs on her face and her milk only half gone, Wendy slumped in her seat. Her eyelids drooped until she looked more asleep than awake.
“I suppose you chased her?”
Grinning, Bri admitted, “I like a sunny day as well as the next person. And the physical exertion is good for her, too. First and foremost, I want her to be happy just being a kid, you know?”
His heart swelled with unfamiliar emotion. “I know that no matter what type of day it is, you make her happy.” As a three-some, they’d built snowmen in the winter, raked leaves in the fall, and planted flowers in the spring.
Once during a thunderstorm when the electricity had failed, Jack had hurried home from a meeting, filled with worry—only to find Bri and Wendy tucked under a homemade tent in the living room, reading with a flashlight and having a blast. He’d gone to his knees and crawled under the quilt to join them, and they’d weathered out the storm with plenty of laughs.
As Wendy slipped off in slumber, Jack stood. “Come on, sleepyhead. Nap time.”
Unlike other kids, Wendy didn’t object to napping unless she was sick, which meant she’d be grumpy about everything. Jack lifted her into his arms, and she slumped boneless against him.
Smiling again, Briana set aside her napkin and stood. “See you tomorrow, Wendy.” She came over, leaned closer to dust the crumbs from Wendy’s rosebud mouth, and then kissed her cheek. “Love ya bunches.”
Jack felt the touch of Bri’s hair on his forearm, smelled the sun-warmed scent of her skin and hair, and felt the heat from her body.
It wasn’t the first time she’d gotten so physically close to him, but it was the first time since he’d decided to stop thinking of her in a strictly platonic way.
“It’s early still.” And she had claimed to have some free time. As she made to withdraw, Jack cupped his hand around her neck. It felt right to touch her, comfortable and familiar and still … exciting. “Don’t go anywhere, okay? I’ll get her tucked in and be back in a few minutes.”
She blinked and, because of the physical contact, held herself very still. “Oh, but …” Her eyes shifted to look at the dishes. “I was going to put these away and then—”
“Stay.” Against his will, his thumb brushed along her jaw. So soft. “I want to talk to you.” And he needed privacy from his daughter to do this right.
“Oh.” Now she looked worried. “Okay, sure. No problem.”
Jack let out a breath. “Bri, it’s nothing bad. At least, I hope you don’t think so.”
“Nothing bad. Okay.”
She didn’t sound convinced, but Jack made a hasty exit anyway. He knew that if he didn’t, he’d end up having the discussion with his sleeping daughter in his arms. Given how he hoped things would progress, that would never do.
two
Less than fifteen minutes later, with Wendy sound asleep in her room, Jack returned to find Briana standing at the sliding doors, looking out into the yard. After setting out fresh cups of coffee, she’d cleaned the kitchen—and tidied her hair.
Jack saw that as promising. Briana might be young, but like all women, she recognized male interest when it came knocking. He only hoped she reciprocated, because at this point in his life, he couldn’t see himself with anyone else. Hell, he could barely see himself with her. He still loved his wife and he knew it.
But Melanie was gone and he wasn’t, and he had to consider what was best for Wendy.
Loun
ging in the kitchen doorway, Jack took a moment to study Briana. At five-seven, she stood more than half a foot shorter than him. Any curves she had were understated: small breasts, narrow hips, long thighs—a pert ass.
Yeah, it shamed him to admit it, but now that he let himself think about it, he imagined … things. Sexual things. Like holding on to that taut little behind while he—
“Jack?”
Dragging in a sharp breath, he moved into the kitchen. “Thank you for waiting.”
She nodded with uncertainty. “Everything with Wendy is okay?”
“Yes.” He held out a chair for her at the kitchen table. “She’ll be down for about an hour, I’m sure.”
Bri sat. “Your mother?”
“Mom is fine, all things considered.” Several months ago, his mother had suffered a stroke. Initially, Jack had hired a girl to help daily with the cooking and cleaning, but even ailing, his mother was too independent for that. She could tend to herself in most ways, so the girl now did chores only twice a month. Working from his home as an engineer, Jack was able to check in on his mother each week, and over the weekend he brought Wendy by to visit.
Briana lifted a cup of coffee for a sip. Unlike him, she used plenty of sugar and cream—the same way Melanie had preferred it.
And that’s where the similarities between the two women ended.
“I like your mom a lot, Jack. She’s always fun to be around. Even with her health struggles, she keeps her sense of humor.”
Jack wondered if Briana would feel the same when she found out what his mother wanted of her.
“You know,” she said, sounding cautious, “I worry about you, too.
That surprised him. “Me?”
Full of sincerity, she set her coffee down and crossed her arms over the tabletop. “You’re not only a single dad, but you have the responsibility of caring for your mother now, too. Between working, raising Wendy alone, and worrying for your mother’s health, it has to be a terrible strain.”
Jack frowned. He wasn’t a weak person; he was a grown man who always met his obligations head-on. “I’m fine.” Busy, definitely, but still … fine.
Bri just watched him.
He gulped down half the hot coffee, but it didn’t help. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he felt compelled to add.
She shrugged. “You’re a very capable man, Jack, I know that. It’s … one of the things I’ve always admired about you. And I know you don’t see caring for your mother or Wendy as a chore.”