by Gina Wilkins
“I would never call you that,” she answered evenly, though her eyes still glittered.
“No one’s throwing around insults,” Walt interjected. “We’re just getting some of the legalities out of the way. It’s always best to have everything on paper, in terms everyone understands and agrees on—child support figures, discussion of medical and educational expenses, visitation arrangements, that sort of thing.”
Adam thought his saw Joanna’s face pale at the mention of visitation. Considering that in a few weeks, they could hardly live farther apart, he couldn’t blame her for wondering how many more changes lay in store for her and the boy.
And that, he decided, pushing himself to his feet, was where this meeting concluded. He looked at Walt. “I have to get back to work. Joanna, Walt will work up a support agreement for me and send it to you to look over—and Maddie, of course,” he added with a nod to her rather combative younger sister.
“Adam, wait. We haven’t even talked about—”
“I’m done for now, Walt.” He moved toward the door without looking back. “I’ll call you with some figures when I get a break later.”
Maybe no one else in the room considered him the outsider in this conversation. And it was likely no one was actually attacking him—not even feisty Maddie. Maybe he was just feeling beleaguered, guilty, even a little trapped, and he only imagined he saw those accusations in their eyes as he left. He closed the door to the conference room a bit too forcefully behind him, already pulling out his phone to start checking his to-do list. He needed to concentrate on his work for now. At least he knew what he was doing there.
* * *
RATHER SUBDUED AFTER the tense meeting, Joanna went to meet Simon at the bus, saying she would take him back to the lodge to rest before dinner. Maddie assured her sister she could entertain herself quite contentedly for a couple of hours in such a beautiful place before they met up again for dinner later. She headed straight for the lakeside bar, thinking a cool, fruity drink was in order. Her smile broadened when she saw the man sitting alone at the bar, his attention divided between the phone in his hand and the bottle of beer on the teak surface in front of him.
She slid onto the empty stool at his right side. “I’ll have a strawberry daiquiri,” she said to the instantly attentive bartender.
Walt turned to face her, setting his phone on the bar. “Counselor.”
“Sarge.”
His steady gaze made her heart beat a little faster. No one would call Walt Becker classically handsome, but something deep inside her was drawn to him, anyway. She’d never been interested in pretty boys, and this battle-worn vet was neither pretty nor a boy.
“Have you come with terms for me to present to my client?” he asked.
“Actually, I’m off the clock at the moment, and I rarely talk business when I’m trying to relax,” she replied lightly, nodding a thank-you to the bartender when he placed a frosty glass in front of her. “What about you?”
“Just enjoying a cold beer and checking my email before heading back to the office. Hard to leave this place on a perfect afternoon,” he added.
Enjoying the feel of the breeze against her cheeks, she smiled. “No kidding. A day like this makes you want to stretch out in a hammock and pretend to be independently wealthy, doesn’t it?”
He chuckled. “I suppose it does. Can’t remember the last time I spent an afternoon in a hammock.”
She took a slow sip of her icy drink, then looked at him through her lashes as she murmured, “Maybe it’s time for you to indulge yourself again.”
She was gratified to see his throat work as he swallowed hard. “So...are you staying for the rest of the week with your sister and nephew?”
“Yes. I’ll drive back with them Sunday morning. I figured I might as well combine vacation with family issues.”
“Family issues. That’s one way to put it, I guess.”
She shrugged. “Like I said. Off the clock. So, tell me, Walt. Is there a Mrs. Sarge?”
He hesitated only a beat before replying. “Used to be. Now she’s Mrs. Plastic Surgeon.”
Delighted by his dry humor, she grinned. “I won’t say I’m sorry to hear that.”
He frowned at her, obviously taken aback by her directness. “How old are you, Maddie?”
She tapped her glass. “Old enough to drink this legally. Why?”
“I’ve got a few years on you.”
She shrugged, unconcerned. “Oh, c’mon, Sarge, you’re not that old. Bet you haven’t even seen forty yet.”
“I’ve caught a few glimpses of it lately,” he muttered. “Seems to creep closer every time I look away.”
“You know what they say. Age is just a number. And math was my worst subject in school.”
She was being brazen, and was well aware of it. But she’d never been one to play at being coy. She knew when a man found her attractive, and she wasn’t imagining the sparks between her and Walt.
“So you know this is fake, right?” He held up his convincingly designed left hand.
She flicked a glance at the hand, then smiled back at him. “I know it’s a prosthetic, if that’s what you mean. Did you leave the hand in Afghanistan?”
“Iraq.” He seemed to appreciate her matter-of-fact tone. “I was over there a few years before Adam.”
She reached out to touch his right hand, which was still holding his beer bottle. “Maybe you’ll tell me about it sometime.”
He gave her a narrow look, and she saw suspicion in his eyes. “Is flirting with the opposition a tactic you use often, Counselor?”
She felt her cheeks warm, not with embarrassment but with a quick flash of temper. She reined it in, giving him a cool smile. “You should be relieved that I don’t take offense easily. Otherwise, you’d be wearing the rest of my daiquiri back to your office.”
“Sorry if I crossed the line,” he grumbled.
Her eyebrows rose. “Do you consider that an apology? If so, you have quite a bit to learn yet.”
She stood and trailed a fingertip up his right arm to lightly tap his frowning lips. “As it happens, I’m intrigued by the idea of teaching you. You can start by paying for my drink. See you around, Sarge.”
Maddie felt him watch her as she strutted away. She didn’t look back to make sure, but she didn’t have to.
She’d definitely left him with something to think about.
CHAPTER EIGHT
AS ADAM HAD PREDICTED, it felt good to be productive after the contentious meeting. To work hard, to know the actions he took and the decisions he made were valuable to the resort and to his employer. His friend. There was satisfaction in feeling tired at the end of the day, aware that a cold beer and a good book waited for him.
True, there’d be no one with whom to share the pleasures, no one to congratulate him for the challenges he’d successfully handled that afternoon, no one to laugh with him over one particularly amusing exchange with a congenial but absent-minded guest. But he was okay with that, right? He knew how to find temporary companionship if he wanted it. He just wasn’t in the mood for meaningless interaction this evening.
In addition to the hard work, he’d expended quite a bit of energy not thinking about that meeting with Joanna and the lawyers. Not letting himself dwell on memories of mind-blowing kisses or a child’s innocent laughter. The images still haunted him, of course, hovering at the back of his mind like irritating ghosts just waiting for him to let his guard down.
He suspected he’d be spending quite a bit of time battling those ghosts in the near future, after Joanna and Simon returned to their own happy life, but he would worry about that later. Tonight, he’d drink a beer, read his book and otherwise concentrate only on work, the tasks he’d completed and the ones waiting for him to tackle. It was the life he’d led for
the past three years, and he’d been in no hurry to make any drastic changes, despite knowing he could at any time. He’d told himself his freedom was more valuable than any rewards or commitments—one of the few lessons his own dad had drilled into him.
He’d begged off on dinner with Trevor and some guests that evening, and Trev hadn’t protested. He hadn’t heard from Joanna since he’d walked out of the meeting, and he doubted he would hear from her this evening. He’d have to deal with it all again tomorrow, of course, but tonight he planned to just hole up and rest.
Which meant he was unprepared to turn a corner and see Joanna sitting on a bench in a shady alcove, her arm around a sobbing woman, her head bent to hear the words the other woman choked out. At first he thought her companion was her sister, but then he noted the woman’s blond hair. She lifted her tear-streaked face toward Joanna, and he recognized the profile. Leah McGee, wife to Ken and mother to Cody, the family with whom he and Trevor had dined earlier this week.
In his brief interactions with the McGees, he’d sensed some tension between Cody’s parents. He’d gone out of his way to be friendly and make suggestions of fun things for them to do as a family. Joanna, apparently, had offered an ear and a shoulder, and Leah was taking full advantage. And responding. Even as he hesitated on the path, Adam saw that Leah’s tears were slowing, that she listened intently to the no doubt encouraging and supportive words Joanna murmured to her.
Neither woman noticed him standing there. Feeling like a voyeur, he turned and continued quietly on his path.
Joanna seemed to have all the answers for everyone. He didn’t know why that suddenly irritated him. Maybe because he had so few answers about what the hell he was supposed to do next. Or maybe because it was uncomfortably easy to imagine sitting there pouring out his problems to her—even though he’d learned a long time ago that in the long run, the only one he could truly depend on to look out for his best interests was himself.
* * *
STANDING WITH HER fist hovering over Adam’s door, Joanna repeatedly counted to ten, taking plenty of opportunity to talk herself out of this. She’d reached seven for a fourth time when she muttered a curse and knocked. She didn’t even know for certain that he was here, but a light shone in the window and she thought she heard the muted sound of a TV inside. That sound shut off abruptly in response to her knock.
Dressed in shorts and a worn T-shirt, barefoot and evening-unshaven, Adam opened the door. “Joanna? What are you doing here? Where’s Simon?”
How could he look this drop-dead sexy, even grubby and grumpy? What was it about this man that made her mind go blank—except for a few mature-rated images—every time she saw him?
Forcing herself to concentrate on his question, she said, “It’s almost ten p.m. Simon has been asleep for more than an hour. Maddie’s sitting with him until I get back.”
“What do you—” He stopped, grimaced, then raised his left hand to the back of his neck. “Sorry. There’s no call for me to snap at you. Come in.”
“Actually...” she said, stepping past him then turning to face him as he closed the door. She drew a deep breath. “...I came to apologize to you.”
He looked both surprised and a little suspicious. “For?”
She spread her hands, grateful they were steady. Mostly. “For that awkward meeting this afternoon. For showing up here and making your life more difficult. Basically, for everything that’s gone wrong for you since we met six years ago.”
After a few silent beats, he dropped his arm to his sides, his mouth twisting into what was probably intended to be a smile. “Thanks, but none of this is your fault. No apologies are necessary.”
Her eyes felt hot, her throat tight. Considering everything he’d been hit with this week, she wouldn’t have blamed him if he took to his heels. Again. Instead, he’d believed her about her son’s parentage and immediately started making arrangements for Simon’s future. And while he had good reason to resent the years he’d missed with his son, he had quietly taken his share of the culpability.
She blinked and cleared her throat, pushing aside her conflicted emotions to deal with later. “You have to admit your life was a lot less complicated a few days ago.”
“I’ll give you that one. Still not your fault.”
“But I—”
“Joanna.” His hands fell lightly on her shoulders as he gazed down at her. “We’ve done this already, remember? We agreed to put the past behind us and focus on what’s best for Simon.”
She looked up at him, her pulse rate already speeding up in response to his nearness, the feel of his hands on her. “We do keep circling back around, don’t we?”
He brushed a hand over her arm. “Can’t seem to help it.”
No, she thought. She couldn’t help trembling when he touched her. Or stop her knees from going weak when he stood this close to her. Whatever it was about Adam that made him so fascinating to her—whatever drew her in a way no one else had—she could no more resist it now than she had that first magical night when she hadn’t even tried.
She moved abruptly away, needing to put some distance between them. She stopped by his sofa, ruffling the fringed edge of the handmade throw tossed over one arm. “Did you knit this?” she teased to change the mood, smiling at the whimsical image of him bent over needles and yarn.
He chuckled, though she thought she detected a note of strain beneath the humor. “My grandmother made it for me years ago. A Christmas gift, I think. It’s the only thing I still have from her.”
She might have asked him a few more questions, but he forestalled her by asking, “Did you tell your sister where you were going?”
She nodded. “I told her I wanted to talk with you. She said she’ll be fine in my suite until I get back.”
“You mean she trusted you to meet with me without legal representation?”
His tone was a mix of irony and irritation, but she decided to focus on the former. “I had to promise I wouldn’t sign anything,” she said lightly. “What about Walt? How would he feel about us talking out of court?”
“He’d probably be annoyed that we deprived him of another chance to stare at your sister. I think he’s intrigued by her.”
She shrugged. “Most guys are.”
“Yeah?” He sounded a little surprised. “Huh.”
She frowned, wondering if she should be insulted on Maddie’s behalf. “You don’t think my sister is attractive?”
“Well, sure.” He kept his gaze trained on her face when he added, “Just not my type.”
Before she could decide how to respond, he changed the subject again. “I saw you earlier this evening. You were with Leah McGee. She was crying.”
Startled, she blinked. “Oh. I didn’t see you.”
“You were occupied with Leah. Is she okay?”
She wasn’t sure how much she should tell him. Leah wasn’t her patient, but the other woman had trusted her enough to confide in her. She didn’t want to betray that trust.
Joanna had been walking back to her suite with Simon and Maddie after dinner when she’d spotted Leah crying in the secluded alcove. She’d sent Maddie and Simon on to watch a movie in the suite while she lingered to ask if there was anything she could do to help the distraught young mother. She’d explained that she didn’t want to intrude, but she was trained in family therapy, if that seemed helpful. Her careful encouragement had unleashed a fresh torrent of tears and jumbled words from the woman who had very much needed a sympathetic listener.
“Leah’s been going through a rough time,” she said after a moment, choosing her words carefully so he wouldn’t draw any mistaken conclusions about what he’d inadvertently witnessed. “She lost her mother a few months ago, and she’s been dealing with grief and stress and loneliness while trying to be everything to everyone else in her life. She’s a st
rong woman who loves her husband and truly adores her son. She misses her mom and needed to vent. I could offer her that opportunity and suggest a few resources that might help. She’ll be fine.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “You must be very good at your job. You love it, don’t you?”
“I do,” she admitted. “I’ve enjoyed teaching, but I’m looking forward to spending more time working with clients and their families. This job in Seattle looks like exactly what I’ve hoped to find.”
He’d turned away, so she couldn’t see the expression in his eyes, but she noticed a muscle twitch in his jaw before he said, “I hope they’ll realize how lucky they’ll be to have you there.”
“Thank you.” She sighed, suddenly weary. “I should head back to the suite before Maddie starts looking for me.”
“That’s really all you came for tonight? To apologize?”
She wasn’t quite sure how to explain the impulse. She decided to be candid. “I’m glad we aren’t fighting anymore. I never meant for that to happen. I’d much rather leave here remembering the fun we had together.”
“So would I.” He reached out idly to brush a strand of hair from her cheek. “Not sure how we ended up facing off with lawyers, but I could do without that.”
She shuddered. “Same here. Even if our lawyers are my family and your friend, it’s still too stressful.”
“Look, JoJo.” He dropped his hand to her shoulder, his expression grave. “I meant what I said earlier. I intend to make regular child support payments. That’s bottom line, no argument. You can spend the money as needed or bank it for Simon or whatever you want. I trust you to do what’s best.”
“Fine,” she said, seeing that he wasn’t going to budge. This was obviously important to him. “You can start a new college fund for him.”
He gave a chuckle that sounded forced. “The way that kid’s going, he might need that in a couple years.”
She smiled faintly. “I don’t want to rush him through his childhood.”
“No. Let him enjoy every minute of it. God knows it doesn’t last long enough as it is.”