by Gina Wilkins
She was biting her lip again. He smiled and smoothed it with his thumb.
“You’re sure?” she asked, clutching his shirt. “Absolutely sure?”
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”
Looking reassured—if somewhat tentatively so—she let out a sigh. “It’s going to be hard to be away from you so long. But we’ll make sure we do this right. I don’t want you to ever have regrets.”
“No regrets,” he promised. “This is what I want.”
Her smile was bright enough to warm him through. “Me, too.”
After several more long, celebratory kisses, he drew back far enough to ask, “By the way...where’s our son?”
A breathy laugh escaped her. “He’s with Maddie.”
“He didn’t come with you?”
“They’re in a suite in Gull’s Nest Lodge. Maddie’s taking another long weekend. I told her she’d probably get fired, but she just shrugged and said she has a lot of sick leave and vacation time built up. I wouldn’t be surprised if she starts looking for work in South Carolina eventually. She’s pretty taken with your buddy Walt.”
“Wait—you’re saying Simon is here? At the resort?”
She laughed. “As if I could get him to stay behind. He wanted to find you the minute we arrived, but I convinced him to let me talk to you first. Maybe you’d like to walk back with me and tuck him in for the night.”
“I’d like that very much,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion again.
“I know you’re going to be busy, and we won’t get in your way. We can entertain ourselves, maybe have meals with you and see you when you get a few extra minutes to breathe. If I’m going through with the move to Seattle, I’ll have to go back soon to finish packing, but Simon will enjoy the chance to have a few more days with you here first. He’s going to be so excited to hear you’ll be joining us in Seattle—unless you’d rather wait and tell him later. You know, in case something changes.”
He could tell it was going to take some time before she was convinced he wouldn’t change his mind. He could be patient. “We’ll tell him now. I won’t disappoint him.”
She nodded bravely.
“There’s just one more thing.”
Swiping at the traces of tears on her cheeks with one hand, she asked shakily, “What?”
“I love you, JoJo.” The words sounded awkward coming from him. Rusty. He figured he’d get better at saying them with practice.
Joanna seemed to have no complaints. She nestled close and smiled up at him, fresh tears spilling from her eyes. Happy tears, he was relieved to note. “I love you, too, Adam.”
Would he get used to hearing the words eventually? Would he ever take them for granted? As he drew her into a kiss that echoed every promise he’d made to her, he knew without doubt that he would never tire of hearing Joanna tell him she loved him.
He hadn’t been looking for companionship when he’d come to this resort six years ago. He certainly hadn’t expected to find everything he’d ever wished for on a moon-washed beach. Because he’d been too mired in the past to expect a better future, he’d almost thrown it all away. Not once, but several times. He was the luckiest man on earth to have been given yet another chance at the family he’d thought he didn’t deserve.
He would never walk away again.
* * * * *
If you enjoyed Joanna and Adam’s story, watch for Gina Wilkins’s next book in the SOLDIERS AND SINGLE MOMS
miniseries!
Keep reading for an excerpt from PLAIN REFUGE by Janice Kay Johnson.
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Plain Refuge
by Janice Kay Johnson
CHAPTER ONE
“DECIDED TO BOLT with your cut of the money, did you?” asked Detective Ray Estevez, his manner as insulting as his words.
Rebecca Gregory stared in disbelief at the man she had allowed into her apartment. Had he just accused her of being complicit in a crime? Thank goodness Matthew wasn’t home! At five, her son was too young to understand the accusation, but he’d have picked up on the tone. Would Detective Estevez have bothered to restrain himself with a child in earshot?
“Or do you and Stowe plan to hook up once the investigation goes cold?” he continued, dark eyes flat and mouth curling in what she took for contempt.
Rebecca stiffened. What a creep. Steven Stowe, her former husband’s business partner, had disappeared after embezzling millions of dollars from their construction firm. Why would this detective imagine for a minute that she had conspired with Steven, or had anything but the most distant relationship with him?
“I have never so much as had lunch with Steven Stowe without Tim present,” she said icily.
“Yeah? Then why’d you leave your husband?”
Managing to meet his stare, she said, “That is between Tim and me.” And, really, her marriage was irrelevant to any investigation, even though the separation had been precipitated by the tension surrounding the embezzlement.
In retrospect, she knew their marriage had already been in trouble when, several months ago, Tim’s behavior changed. She knew now that he’d been hit by mysterious and crippling financial problems in the construction firm he had founded with Steven and another partner, Josh Griffen. Then, all she’d known was that the ridiculous hours he worked stretched even longer. He seldom bothered to spend time with his wife and son and brushed off her concern. Worried, frustrated, occasionally angry, he refused to even acknowledge there was a problem, not to her. What sex life they had left her feeling used. In fact, he’d shut her out so completely it became obvious she held no meaningful role in his life. Increasingly, she saw that he had never really talked to her, not the way her parents had to each other.
Rebecca had taken her wedding vows seriously. She had sworn to stick with him through these troubles. So she’d kept quiet and made excuses to their five-year-old son when he asked why Daddy was mad or never home.
Except then one of the three partners vanished and it came out that he’d embezzled a great deal of money. Tim’s reaction? Not grief at the betrayal committed by a friend. Oh, no. The day after the news of Steven’s disappearance hit the San Francisco Chronicle, Tim had bounded into the house in a great mood, swung her in a circle and ebulliently told her they wouldn’t have to worry about money ever again.
She had looked at him and thought, I don�
�t understand or know who you are, this man who is relieved, even joyous, because his partner and friend has fled with millions of dollars. As if that solved all his problems.
She could no longer love a stranger whose ethics she doubted.
But she didn’t know anything. And she couldn’t understand what had precipitated the lead investigator to grill her.
“Funny timing to leave your husband,” he shot back.
She had to say something. “Tim had been under stress for months while he and Josh and Steven tried to understand what was wrong. That...exacerbated our issues.” Wonderful. She sounded like a marriage counselor or a self-help book.
Estevez tipped the chair back, letting her know not so subtly that he had settled in and would stay as long as he felt inclined. “When did he explain the problems at work?”
“The day after Steven disappeared.”
He let out a bark of laughter. “You expect me to believe that? You were living with the guy!”
She had been, and it still hurt, remembering how unimportant she’d been to the man who was supposed to love her. Rebecca would be ashamed of herself for staying as long as she had with him, given the way he treated her, but she had been raised to believe marriage was forever. Despite the months of estrangement, if she had been sure he really loved her, she could have forgiven a lot.
Now, she raised her eyebrows. “Believe me or not, it’s the truth.”
“You’re a cool one, aren’t you?” He did not sound admiring.
Detective Estevez was of average height, but he was built like a bull, his neck thick, his shoulders powerful. He kept asking questions to which she had no answers. His temper heated. He slammed the legs of the chair back on the floor and planted his forearms on the table so he could lean forward until his sneering face filled her field of vision. He shouted. He wondered aloud what would happen to her kid when she went to prison.
But she couldn’t tell him what she didn’t know. She didn’t have the money; she had never felt close to either of Tim’s partners, even though one or the other had dined at the house every few weeks until those last months, when she scarcely saw them.
“You’re wasting your time,” she said.
He snapped, “I’ll decide that.”
When he ran out of questions, he glared at her for what had to be a full minute. Rebecca laced her trembling fingers on her lap and stared back at him with the pretense of composure.
At last he shoved himself to his feet, eyes narrowed. After flinging a business card on the table, he said, “I’ll be watching you.”
She didn’t respond—didn’t move—until she heard the apartment door close behind him.
And then she hugged herself and tried to understand why Detective Estevez had wasted time on her when Steven Stowe was the embezzler.
* * *
FOUR MONTHS LATER, Rebecca let herself into this house for what she prayed would be the last time. Their house—Tim’s house now. No, she’d be here to drop off Matthew for visits or pick him up, but that would be different.
And visits were all that Matthew’s stays with his father would be. With resolve, she buried the whiff of fear that she would lose their custody battle.
Once she closed and locked the front door behind her, the silence was so complete that her footsteps on the marble floor of the foyer seemed to echo. Something about that silence gave her goose bumps, even though she had expected the house to be empty. Housekeeping staff had always been part-time.
As Rebecca walked from room to room, she marveled that she’d ever called this place home. Tim had been so excited about building it for them that she’d had to be careful about what she said. He’d ignored her gentle suggestions. An architectural magazine had run a feature on it because the design and function were cutting-edge. Naturally, the finest materials were used. It had just never come to feel homey to her. How could it, with six bedrooms, five bathrooms? To her, it felt like living in a hotel.
Would Tim have listened if she’d spoken out more strongly from the beginning? Rebecca smiled sadly. She could only imagine his expression if she’d said, “For God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble.” She had strayed so far from her roots that she couldn’t remember the whole quote, but knew there was something about clothing yourself in humility, too.
Pride, Tim understood. Humility wouldn’t be a virtue in his eyes.
There was so much she hadn’t let herself see when she’d foolishly fallen in love.
In the most recent meeting held at a law firm with both their attorneys present, Tim had told her to take anything from the house she wanted. Typical, she’d thought, feeling a mix of amusement and annoyance. He couldn’t look stingy in front of the attorneys. Once he had understood really, truly, that reconciliation wasn’t an option—something which had taken months—he’d been generous with financial settlements, as well as the small things.
His generosity had ended when it came to their son. Tim’s father, Robert Gregory, was a cold man who too often expressed astonishment that his son had made anything of himself. Whatever had happened between Tim and her, she still detested her father-in-law for what his disdain had done to his own child. Unfortunately, Robert thought Tim had done one thing right—he’d sired a handsome, smart son to carry on the family name. Divorce wasn’t a word Robert wanted to hear. He couldn’t have a dynasty if he didn’t have a firm grip on his grandson.
Rebecca had a very bad feeling that Tim’s demand for joint custody was only the beginning. Her attorney supported her decision to fight for primary custody. No reasonable person could think a five-year-old boy should live half the time with a parent who routinely worked seventy-to eighty-hour weeks and rarely took a weekend off.
Her gut feeling was that Tim agreed, but he couldn’t back down without facing his father’s contempt. And so their current standoff continued.
Temporarily blocking her worries, she focused on her current task. She was here, so she should get this over with.
She walked quickly through the ground floor, surveying the ultramodern furniture, which had never been to her taste. Even though the apartment she had rented was still scantily furnished, she didn’t want anything from here.
She did miss her exceptionally well-equipped kitchen, so she might raid the cupboards. The fine china or crystal goblets and wineglasses had mostly been given as wedding gifts, and she couldn’t imagine using any of them.
Cooking utensils were another matter. She selected a couple of favorite pans and tools and carried them to the box she had left in the foyer. She didn’t bother with Tim’s office, where she had rarely been invited. Thanks to staff, she hadn’t even entered it to clean.
A quick scan of Matthew’s bedroom assured her that she’d left only enough toys and books to allow him to feel at home during his weekends with his father. Everything important had already been packed up and brought to her new apartment.
The master bedroom was last. Rebecca was confident she had taken all her clothes and shoes. She had left behind most of the jewelry Tim had given her. She would never wear it again.
There was only one piece she would like to keep—the necklace that had been Tim’s gift their first Christmas together. The pendant was simple and lovely, an eighteen-karat gold heart studded with sapphires. They were the color of her eyes, he had told her before gently kissing her. It wouldn’t have been cheap, but neither was it extravagant and ostentatious like his later gifts. It would give her one memory to hold on to.
Tim had had a small safe built into his walk-in closet, hidden by stacked hemp storage boxes. Mostly, her jewelry had been kept in this safe rather than the larger one in his office. He’d always insisted on getting the jewelry out for her, but she had seen him dial the combination and remembered it. She doubted he would even notice that she had taken one necklace.
She m
oved a few boxes and dialed, and a moment later the safe door opened silently. She looked for the small blue box she kept the pendant in, but a surprising flash of red caught her eye. This was a ring, but massive and clearly masculine. Tim never wore rings. Stranger yet, a black leather wallet sat next to it.
Puzzled, she reached for the ring, lifting it out into better light.
Harvard University.
Steven Stowe, embezzler, had worn a ring just like this. An irritated Tim had claimed his partner wore it to flaunt his Ivy League education. Tim and the third partner, Josh Griffen, had graduated from a state university. She had thought they were being unfair. Steven didn’t talk about his past much, but she’d heard enough to know he had grown up in lousy circumstances. Making it to Harvard had to have been hugely symbolic to him. The sad part was that his mother had walked out when he was only a kid, and his dad had died of cirrhosis of the liver something like ten years ago. With no siblings, there wasn’t anyone left to be awed at his accomplishment.
Rebecca had wondered before whether his background explained why he’d been so desperate for wealth that he had been willing to betray his partners.
Her forehead crinkled as she set the ring back down.
What was she thinking? Of course this couldn’t be Steven’s! When he’d taken off with the money he’d stolen, he wouldn’t have left his treasured class ring behind. And they knew he wasn’t dead, because he’d been using his debit and credit cards on occasion, staying constantly on the move. Tim had told her the police hadn’t blocked his accounts so that they could trace his movements.
But dread formed anyway, making Rebecca reluctant to pick up the slim billfold. Her hands had become blocks of wood and her chest felt compressed, as if there was something wrong with the air in here. I don’t want to open this.
But the glow of the ruby was impossible to ignore. Just do it, she told herself, and flipped the wallet open.