Foundation (A Golden Beach Novella)

by Loraine, Kim

  Placing both hands on his beloved face, she pulled his mouth to hers. She poured everything she had into the kiss, trying to do what he wanted—what he needed.

  Their lips melded and parted, tongues dancing and exploring. She ran her fingers through his thick hair, tugging slightly and getting a small groan from him as a reward. His phone buzzed against her hip from inside his pocket.

  “Bloody hell,” he muttered against her lips.

  “Don’t answer. Not right now.”

  He pulled the phone from his pocket anyway and sucked in a sharp breath before answering. “Breanna.” His tone was terse, as though he were fighting to control himself.

  “Yes, the letter’s here.” He began pacing the small kitchen like a caged tiger as he spoke with his aunt.

  “I’ve had a look. No, she hadn’t yet told me.” He shot a tight glance at Grace. “I’ll think about it. But it’s probably in the cards.”

  He hung up without another word, then turned to face her. She winced at the mixed emotions in his eyes.

  “Fancy a visit with your mum and dad?”

  Her mouth dropped open in shock. Wondering how much Breanna had shared, she fought to gain her composure. Did he know how involved she’d been? How hard she’d pushed Breanna to get Maggie to contact them? “Really? But . . . you seemed so upset.”

  “I don’t know what I am. She wants to meet me. It’s only twenty or so years later than she met my brother, but at least it’s something, right?” His words were light, yet their tone betrayed his anger and he wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Back to the bloody real world.”

  He turned away from her, shoulders tense.

  She didn’t know what to say. She’d never expected this after encouraging him to find his mother. Asking Breanna to take that last step and contact her had been risky, but never in a million years had she suspected his birth mother would be so closely connected to them all.

  “When do you want to go?” she asked as the kettle began a piercing screech.

  She touched his arm and he flinched. Her heart turned cold, knowing him well enough to see the damage that had been done.

  Chapter 2

  Grace closed her laptop and scoured the blueprints for her latest restoration project, the central focal point of the town—the church. She’d been dying to get her hands on it for over a year. Now, two weeks after her honeymoon, her crew was assembled and ready to begin working.

  Her stomach rolled with nausea and she nibbled on the crackers she kept near at all times. She needed to get in to see a doctor. Despite being nervous about the prospect, she picked up the phone and called the clinic. The last time she’d been pregnant she’d gotten her hopes up, only to lose the baby without warning.

  After hanging up, she added the appointment to her already full calendar and sighed as she realized it was just shy of a week before their trip to Golden Beach. She’d hoped to get in sooner, but nothing fit her schedule or the clinic’s.

  Her phone rang in her hand, causing her to jump. Drew’s smiling face flashed on the screen and her anxiety eased when she took in his infectious grin.

  “Hello, husband.”

  “Afternoon, love. How’s the day been?” His voice was warm, soothing. She breathed a sigh of relief. Things had been tense between them, though they hadn’t spoken of Breanna or his birth mother in weeks.

  “Busy. I’ve only just found time to take a break.”

  He chuckled. “Only just? Listen to you, I think British living is rubbing off.”

  “Well, I am sleeping with a Brit.” Over the line, a soft chuckle escaped him, making her heart squeeze. “I was on the phone with the doctor’s office right before you called.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  She smiled at the urgency in his voice. He was going to be a wonderful father. “Yes. I have my first appointment the week before we leave for the States.”

  “Good.”

  “Can you come? They’ll do an ultrasound.”

  He sucked in a breath and she could tell he was checking his calendar. “I’ve got appointments every day that week. Let me see if I can shuffle things around.”

  Her heart sank at the thought of him not being there for the scan, but she pushed the sadness aside. He’d figure it out.

  Hunger gnawed at her stomach as she realized she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. “You have lunch plans?”

  Drew sighed. “I’ve got loads of paperwork here to sort out. Can you meet for tea later?”

  “No, I have a video chat with my boss in a few hours.”

  She could almost hear his pout. “Right, fine. I’ll need you all to myself tonight, then. Can you pencil me in?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I’ve got to run, love. See you later.”

  She wanted to see him now, they’d been two ships passing in the night for weeks and her hands itched to feel the softness of his hair, the warmth of his skin. The few moments they had shared were dampened by tense conversation and Drew’s avoidance of the topic of their upcoming visit to Golden Beach.

  “Drew,” she said, not quite ready to break their connection.

  “Yes, love?”

  “I love you.”

  “Quite right, too.”

  Drew hung up the phone in his office, running a hand over his jaw. Conversations with his accountant always led to headaches and this one had been no exception. In the three weeks they’d been back home, he’d spent most of his time either in London at the new shop, working on logistics, or talking about finances. He’d barely seen Grace aside from their brief breakfasts together.

  His need to touch her, breathe in the scent of her hair, feel her body next to his, colored the rest of his thoughts as he shuffled paperwork. He checked his schedule for some way to find time with her.

  She’d been so bloody sick since they’d returned from their honeymoon. Every time they got close, something would send her running for the loo. He’d stopped wearing aftershave, changed his toothpaste, tried everything he could think of to avoid offending her sensitive nose. He was starting to think he’d have to be celibate for the next six months. That prospect was pure torture.

  His mind drifted to memories of their honeymoon, before his birth mother, before so many things.

  A call came through, startling him out of his fantasy.

  “Drew Tensley,” he answered, a little stiffly.

  “Drew, it’s Mark Douglas, AGG Distributors.”

  “Oh, hello, Mark. What can I do for you? I trust there’s not a problem with our latest order?”

  Mark chuckled. “No, lad. Nothing like that. Your produce order is safe and sound. The truth is, lad, I’m retiring.”

  “What? I hope everything’s all right.” Drew’s stomach clenched. He’d known Mark for the last seven years, and his father had built a relationship with the man that spanned twice as many years.

  Mark coughed on the other end of the line. “Yeah, the missus has put her foot down. No more work. It’s time to enjoy life and spend some time with the grandchildren.”

  “How many grandkids do you have now?”

  “Three. My son has a five-year-old boy and a three-year-old girl. My daughter just had her first baby. Don’t see ‘em much. Always too busy with business. Looking back, that’s one of my biggest regrets. You have kids?”

  “I’m about to.” He couldn’t keep the pride from his voice.

  “Are you really? Congratulations, boy. Don’t leave it to the last minute to be there for them. My kids, they stopped wondering when I’d be home a long time ago and focused on their mum instead. I barely know them.”

  Drew didn’t know what to say. Mark’s warning echoed so closely to his own fears.

  “Anyway, I just wanted to phone and let you know I�
��ll be handing over the reins to a new account manager in August. I’m sure you’ll get on. She’ll be wanting to set up a meeting with you. Can you see fit to find a spot on your calendar to meet with her?”

  “Of course. I’m out of town for the first part of August. Fire off an email with some dates and I’ll make room.”

  “Thanks. And might I say it’s been a true pleasure.”

  “Pop by the shop any time, Mark.”

  “I might do that.”

  They hung up, leaving Drew with a sense of melancholy. Mark was one of his favorites. They’d regularly spent too much time chatting after taking care of business matters. He was like an elderly uncle, someone he looked up to and enjoyed talking with.

  Mark’s words, Don’t leave it to the last minute to be there . . . ran around in Drew’s head. He was already so busy with the shop expansion he couldn’t find time for his wife, how was he going to manage with a child?

  Before heading home, he grabbed a trolley and roamed the aisles of his family’s shop. Tonight he’d make it up to Grace. He bought a bouquet of peonies—her favorite flower—picked up some chocolates, and all of the ingredients he needed to make a meal for her. He was going to wine and dine her—without the alcohol—and put away his fears about the expansion and his worries over meeting his mother. Tonight was about the two of them. They needed to reconnect.

  The house was dark when he walked inside. Grace must’ve been out at a late meeting, or working off some stress on the footpath she ran on. He switched on the lights and set about readying the house for her return. By the time he heard her key in the lock, the food was ready, candles were lit, and he was so eager to see her he had to fight the urge to pounce as soon as the door opened.

  He’d been right, she’d gone for a run, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed from the exercise.

  “What are you up to?” Her smile warmed him, he’d done right.

  “I thought we needed a date. Some food first, maybe a movie, and then . . .” he arched an eyebrow.

  The answering heat in her gaze sent a thrill up his spine. This was the bridge that connected them.

  “Can I shower first?”

  “Let’s eat, then we can both get ready.”

  “I’m all sweaty and gross.”

  “I think you’re gorgeous, love.”

  He pulled out a chair, brushing a hand over the small of her back and down her hip as he led her to the seat. At her involuntary shiver and sharp intake of breath he thought he’d lose what little restraint he had left.

  They ate in silence, colored by the thick sexual tension radiating between them both. A look of worry crossed Grace’s face.

  “What’s that face for?” he asked.

  “I . . . I’m not sick, I haven’t been all day.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing? You’ve been bloody miserable for weeks.”

  Her lower lip trembled and she turned terrified eyes to him. “What if something’s wrong? What if I go to the appointment only to find out I’ve lost the baby?”

  His heart lurched. What if? “Morning sickness isn’t supposed to last forever. You’re how far along now? Three months? I’m sure the baby is fine.”

  He tried to reassure her, even with his own fears running rampant in his mind. She’d been well into her third month last time and that had ended in tears.

  “I’m scared. I can’t go through that again.”

  “You’re not going to. I could go put on some of my aftershave and I guarantee you’ll be sick in no time.”

  A light laugh escaped her, the smile not reaching her eyes, but lessening the tension even still.

  After a few more silent moments, she took a sharp breath.

  “I spoke to Breanna today. She agreed to let your moth—”

  “She’s not my mother.” His voice came out in a harsh bark.

  “Fine. Breanna is letting Maggie know we’re coming. Are you sure you don’t want to make contact before you meet her? It might make it easier if you have a video or phone call first. Or I could—”

  “No. You’ve done quite enough.”

  Her eyes widened at the anger in his voice and guilt hit him like a sledgehammer. Standing and pulling her from her chair, he held her close.

  “I’m sorry, love. Let’s not talk about this anymore. Why don’t you shower and I’ll clear up out here?”

  She pressed a soft kiss to his lips and it hurt him how hesitant she was. With a sigh, he tangled his fingers in her hair, willing her to let go and let him in. As she pulled away, she nipped his lower lip and winked before padding off to the shower.

  As he cleared the dishes and washed up, Drew could think of nothing other than Grace—naked and wet.

  “Bugger it,” he said, wiping his hands with a dishtowel and heading to the bathroom.

  He watched her move in the shower, her body showing a gentle roundness at her hips, breasts, and belly. A fierce sense of pride gripped him. He’d put that baby there. It was something they would always share.

  She started singing, her sweet voice carrying over the sound of the water. How he missed her. He’d been so distracted lately, busy with work, worried about their trip to Golden Beach, and meeting Maggie.

  Unable to tear his eyes from her figure, he leaned against the door frame, watching as her breasts swayed while she shampooed her long, dark hair. He needed her in the worst way.

  “Drew?” Her voice cut through his longing and made him jump.

  “Yes, love.”

  “Are you . . . ogling me?”

  “Might be.”

  “I thought you’d be getting ready for our date.”

  “I was, you’re . . . distracting.”

  She giggled, the sound sending shockwaves through him. Like something out of a dream, she stepped from the shower, dripping wet and gorgeous.

  “Hand me a towel?”

  “As you wish.” He reached for the towel and passed it to her, unable to take his eyes off her.

  “You know, they say that pregnancy can increase a woman’s sex drive.”

  It had been weeks since they’d had a good and proper shag. Her comment sent his already stirred-up libido into overdrive. He pounced on her, pushing the towel from her body and reveling in her softness. Her hands fisted in his hair—just as he liked—her lips crushing against his mouth. He needed her against his skin, under him, around him.

  “Bloody amazing you are, love,” he moaned against her mouth.

  “God, I’ve missed you.”

  “It’s been a long time. I don’t know if I can be gentle.”

  She tugged on his hair and made a noise deep in her throat. “Who says I want you to?” She pulled away from him, her absence almost painful, before whispering, “Come on, show me what we’ve been missing.”

  Chapter 3

  Drew pushed through the burning in his calves as he headed up the hilltop behind the old church. He smiled as he thought of Grace, peacefully slumbering, hair splayed across the pillow. For a moment, they’d been them again. Sadly, that comfort had been short-lived.

  He’d woken before the sun, his head buzzing with the same thoughts that had kept him tossing and turning for the last two weeks.

  The mist settled on the top of the grass like a sheer cloak. He could feel the damp air coating his skin as he moved along the path. Taking in the sounds of the morning, the coo of the doves as the air warmed, the gravel crunching under his trainers. He breathed deep and tried to quiet his mind. He’d initially cursed when he’d realized he’d forgotten his earbuds. But now, in the calm morning, he was thankful. He needed the peace.

  It seemed so monumentally unfair—the revelation that John had had a relationship with their mother for most of his life, even if he hadn’t actually known the depth of his c
onnection with her. The fact that Grace had easily known who she was made it all the more painful. He’d gone from being totally at ease with the fact that he’d been adopted to angry and hurt that he’d been abandoned—unwanted.

  His breath heaved as he stopped at the top of the hill and took in the sight of the sleepy town he’d lived in most of his life. A sharp pang of betrayal and anger sliced through him. Clearly, Maggie had sought out his twin. Moved to the States to be close to him. Why would she go all the way to America for John when he’d been on the same bloody continent? If Grace hadn’t meddled in his personal, family business, he’d never have been the wiser. Things would be normal.

  How long has she been going behind my back with Breanna? How many times have I said I’m not ready to find her?

  Shaking his head to push away the unwanted thoughts, he pressed on to finish his run. By the time his house came into view, his mind wasn’t any clearer, but he made a conscious effort to right himself. Grace needed him.

  He turned the key and stepped over the threshold, back into his life.

  The house smelled of bacon and coffee. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he leaned against the counter and watched the love of his life as she moved about the kitchen. The only thing marring the sight was the slight frown turning down the corners of her mouth as she pushed bacon around in the pan.

  “What’s the bacon done to upset you, love?”

  Grace jumped at the sound of his voice, and he had to fight back a laugh.

  “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  He shrugged, eyes roaming over her form. She wore a thin camisole and a pair of shorts with silly little cartoon cats in coffee cups printed on them. As she stretched to pull two mugs from the cupboard, her breasts pressed against the fabric of her top, lifting the shirt to show the slight swell of her pregnant belly. A wave of pride, colored by terror, washed over him.