Accidental Family

by Fasano, Donna

  However, lying here with her in his arms, feeling the warmth of her body next to his, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd taken advantage of her need. She'd been weak in her grief. Had he pushed her to do something she normally wouldn't have done?

  Guilt burned its way through his veins as if it were acid.

  Should he apologize for what they had done?

  Hell, no, he decided. Apologizing would give her the impression that he regretted the experience. And he certainly didn't regret one moment of their time together. Not one kiss, one touch, one... anything.

  No, he certainly had no intention of telling her he was sorry. If anything, he felt a tremendous urge to thank her for an extraordinary encounter he'd never forget.

  Robin sighed and he felt her breath brush across his chest like warm satin. The inside curve of her small foot rested against his shin. Tendrils of her curly hair were so close to his nose that all he had to do to smell the flowery fragrance of her was to inhale. The delicious aroma floated all around him.

  There was something that bothered him, however. Something about what she'd said regarding her brother...

  "Robin?"

  "Hmm?"

  He smiled at the drowsy, sated sound she emitted. He thought it sensual, delectably so.

  "Can I ask you a question?"

  "Sure," she said softly.

  "What did you mean earlier when you said you'd waited too long to get to know Jeff?"

  At the mention of her brother's name, she stiffened in his arms and he grew alarmed. "It's okay," he told her. "We don't have to talk."

  "No, it's all right. I want to tell you. I'd like for you to understand."

  Her silken cheek slid across his skin a fraction.

  "I meant to explain when we were downstairs," she continued, "but... I got so upset that I wasn't able to." She slid onto her side, splayed her hand on the flat of his belly. "You see, Jeff was years older than I," she said. "All I remember of him was that he was always going off somewhere. To soccer practice. Or baseball games. Or out with his buddies. And then he left for college. It seemed like we rarely saw him."

  He felt rather than saw her grin.

  "And when he was at home the girls seemed to crawl out of the woodwork. Anyway, I never got to spend much time with him."

  Suddenly her voice lowered. "And my parents always seemed… elderly to me. I'm pretty sure I was a mistake, if you know what I mean. No, I'm not pretty sure. I'm certain. I was a complete and utter surprise to them. My dad was sickly. And Mom spent most of her time taking care of him."

  He saw her head shake slowly from side to side.

  "She was a virtual slave to that man. She had no life. I had no life. And I promised myself that when I grew up I was going to do just what Jeff did. I would escape. I was going to enjoy my life. I was going to be independent. I was going to make damned sure that no one, and I mean no one, relied on me."

  Unwittingly, her hand slid higher until it rested on his chest. "So after college, I traveled. All over the place. I freelanced for different magazines. Which meant I could do my job from almost any location. But I never stayed in one city long enough to put down roots or... get to know anyone. If I rented an apartment, it was always on a short-term lease. Never owned a car. If I need one, I rent."

  The life-style sounded kind of bleak to Jonas, who had his mom and dad and his sister, Sara. And then Jeff had become a part of the Winslow clan, adding to the fun. And then Tony had joined the fray. Jonas enjoyed his boisterous family. Not to mention the dozens of friends he had.

  "I never felt isolated or… or lonely," she continued. "Not that I recall, anyway. I guess I've just been too busy. Seeing new places. Exploring new things. Working. Always working. And maybe I was too focused on that all-important goal of being on my own. And I was doing it, Jonas. I was making it happen. I was plowing through life and thought that…"

  She hesitated a long moment, exhaled fully, and then moistened her lips. Jonas watched, riveted, as the tip of her tongue glided across the dusky skin of her full bottom lip.

  "But then Tony came into my life. He's dependent on me… on us… for everything. I thought I would resent that. I thought I'd feel trapped. I was so afraid I wouldn't be able to provide him what he needed. Time. Attention. Too many things to name."

  Again, he felt her smile against his arm.

  "But, Jonas, I love it," she said. "I love fixing his breakfast, and changing his diapers, reading to him, taking him places, showing him things. I love seeing life through his eyes. A trip to the grocery store becomes an eye-opening adventure when I'm with him. He's a wonderful little boy." She went still for the span of a deep breath. "I love him, Jonas. And I can show him that by doing things for him, being there for him when he needs me."

  Silent seconds ticked by. Jonas waited in the darkness, sensing she wasn't finished with what she had to say.

  "I only wish…" Her tone quavered with suppressed emotion. "I wish Mom, Dad, Jeff, Sara… I… I just wish I could let them know. About all of this. About how I feel. About all that I've realized. How wrong I've been…"

  Jonas rolled over, planting his elbows on either side of her. He stared down into her dark, sad eyes. What a revelation she'd offered. He understood her now. It was clear that the cautious, cool exterior she presented to the world was just a mask she used to protect herself. But she'd learned some things during the time she'd spent with her brother's son. She'd discovered what family really means.

  "But now it's too late."

  Her milky breasts lifted gracefully and then lowered when she sighed. Moisture made her eyes sparkle and the sadness he read on her face caused him physical pain.

  He kissed her mouth gently. "No more tears tonight, Robin," he said. "No more tears."

  She smiled, a keen understanding lighting her entire expression. "No more tears," she agreed, huskily. And she lifted up to meet his kiss.

  Chapter Seven

  Robin wielded a dust cloth as if it were a weapon, attacking the tabletops and chair legs with a vengeance. Tony's smeary little fingerprints mingled with the dust on the tables in the family room. Lettered wooden building blocks were scattered in one corner. Bits of popcorn littered the crannies of the sofa. And the kitchen floor? Remnants of every food group were stuck to those tiles.

  She chuckled, remembering when she'd announced her intentions of housecleaning this morning and Jonas had offered to help. Judging by the look on his face, it had been a polite gesture at best and he hoped she wouldn't expect much out of him. His reprieve had come when she'd asked him to take Tony on an outing that would occupy him for a few hours, although she was almost certain that, between cleaning this huge house and tending the baby, she was the one who had the easier job.

  Lively pop tunes were playing over the radio, and Robin danced around the room as she picked up toys and polished the furniture. She couldn't believe how good she felt. She supposed it had a lot to do with the fact that she was resting well every night. Removing the pictures of Jeff and Sara had turned out to be an excellent idea, even though she still experienced the errant pang of guilt, now and then, about having done it. But now that almost a week had passed since The Event, Tony seemed to be pining for his parents less and sleeping better.

  The Event was how Robin had come to think of the night Tony had popped the family DVD into the player. It had also been the night they'd made the decision to clear the house of all the pictures that stirred their heartache. The photos would eventually find their rightful places in the house, but for right now, those left behind needed a bit of a reprieve. Neither the DVD fiasco nor the pictures figured into why she'd christened that night with that particular label.

  It was the night she, herself, had become lost in grief…only to be rescued from that dark abyss by Jonas. And a more beautiful and sensuous rescue couldn't be imagined. She couldn't help the grin that caused the corner of her mouth to twitch every time she thought of their first night together. And she thought of it often. She c
ouldn't help it.

  Jonas had been wonderful to her that night. Sweet. Tender. And not only was he proficient in his lovemaking skills, he was also wickedly clever. Just thinking about the first night they'd spent in bed together, heat radiated through her entire body.

  His gentle treatment of her had persisted ever since The Event. His kindness continued to take her off guard; just when she expected him to make some kind of quirky, hurtful rejoinder about something she was doing, or an opinion she'd offered, he would compliment her or simply smile at her. She found it a bit unnerving, but really, really nice.

  Their days had been going so smoothly that it was... weird. All three of them seemed to be doing so much better, getting along, even enjoying one another's company. She often daydreamed that they were playing house. Daddy Jonas. Mommy Robin. And baby made three. Yes, the days had been wonderful.

  And the nights. Robin picked up a magazine from the table and fanned herself, then laughed at her own antics.

  The nights had been spent in pure ecstasy. At first Jonas had been shocked to discover he'd been the first; he'd expressed his deep distress over having taken her virginity. But she'd assured him that he hadn't 'taken' anything. That she'd given herself to him. That this had been what she wanted, what she needed.

  To think that when she first came to Brenville, she couldn't stand to be near Jonas. Their personalities had clashed like a pair of crash cymbals. Oh, what a difference a few days… not to mention a few steamy nights… could make. Their relationship had evolved so rapidly into...

  Into what? she wondered, dropping the magazine back onto the end table. What exactly was it she felt for him?

  She stared at her reflection in the glassy surface she'd just polished. Was she in love with Jonas?

  The question was startling. She'd never been in love in her life.

  How was she to even know what love was?

  She nibbled on her cuticle as she pondered the answer.

  Well, she guessed love… that special kind of love between a man and woman… would be deeply felt. And it would be shown in little ways. She'd want to do intimate, personal things for her special someone.

  Her eyes grew wide. Hadn't she made a point of rising early so that she could prepare the coffee before Jonas came downstairs? And hadn't she already decided that she would dust and vacuum his office today as a little surprise?

  She covered her mouth with her hand, uncertain about how she felt about where this train of thought was taking her. Not only had she laundered and folded all his clothes yesterday, but she'd also whistled a happy tune the whole time she was performing the task.

  And the way he made her feel… all he had to do was walk into the room and her body went haywire; erratic pulse, fluttery heartbeat, shallow breath, chaotic thoughts. She was attracted to him, yes, but there was more to it than that mere physical attraction. She couldn't deny it. He made her self-conscious, and more shy than usual. She cared about his opinion of her. And he crept into her thoughts more often than was seemly. At night, her dreams were filled with muted-edged images of him… and her… smiling, and stroking, and kissing, and…

  Dear Lord, she was in love with Jonas!

  The realization brought with it a deluge of questions. How was this going to change things between them? Would this alter her plans of being Tony's sole guardian? It would have to, wouldn't it? And how would Jonas feel when he discovered she had fallen for him? Then the most stunning question came chugging down those tracks…

  How did Jonas feel about her?

  Apprehension churned in the pit of her belly. She didn't dare reveal this revelation. What if he didn't feel about her the way she felt about him? Then telling him would only make her vulnerable to him.

  Yet, her mind argued, she'd been extremely vulnerable during their first night of lovemaking, and he'd been more than understanding, more than kind. He'd given of himself that night, and every night since, more than she would ever have thought he was capable of offering.

  Yes, the argument grew stronger, he'd slept with her, hadn't he? Didn't that account for something? Didn't that mean he felt something for her?

  Come on, Robin, a tiny voice said pointedly, men are men and women are women, and everyone knows sex means very different things to males and females. Everyone knows that men do it because... well, because... because it feels good. A man's inner Neanderthal takes over; all the blood drains from his brain to stiffen up a certain, necessary organ. When he's in bed with you…he's a numbskull.

  Now, a woman was different. A woman makes love with a man because she feels something for him. Something deep. Something meaningful. A woman made love because she felt love.

  Robin couldn't help but frown as the argumentative side of her brain interrupted and she murmured aloud, "Oh, give me a break."

  Sure, you were experiencing some deep and meaningful emotions that first night you made love with Jonas, but you really weren't in love with him. You couldn't have been. You were using him in order to forget your grief.

  She was no human sexuality expert, but she'd have bet her last dollar that, when she and Jonas were making love, she was just as brainless as he. In the throes of passion, she didn't think. She couldn't think. She only got lost in the glorious physical sensations elicited by the touching, the rubbing, the tasting.

  Maybe she should contact Dr. Drew! She'd discovered she had an inner Neanderthal.

  Incapable of finding humor in this, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. That was all true, she had to admit. She hadn't been in love with Jonas the first night they had gone to bed together. But she had needed him terribly. And he had responded to her need in a wonderful way. He had allowed her to hide from her overwhelming grief for awhile. He'd permitted her to lose herself in his warmth. He'd let her rejoice in the fact that he was solid, he was breathing, he was alive.

  Yes, Jonas had been good to her. Better than good; he'd been wonderful. But realizing that she hadn't been in love with him when they'd first slept together truly rankled. What did it say about her that she'd willingly had sex with a man for reasons other than the normal adoration or devotion?

  This wasn't just any man, though, she grasped for some sort of assuagement. This was Jonas.

  Yeah. Jonas. And wasn't he the guy you couldn't stand to be in the same room with just a couple weeks ago? Who does that, her brain jeered? Who goes from disliking a person to doing his laundry and making him coffee and handing over her virginity on a silver platter, for criminy's sake?

  The questions quickly became a sharp, stabbing stick. And what was worse was that she could come up with no answers.

  Well, she loved him now, damn it! Isn't that what mattered? Isn't that what really counted?

  But now she had to address the issue of telling him how she felt. Should she or shouldn't she?

  It wasn't until she'd eased herself down in the desk chair that she realized she'd drifted into the room that Jonas used as an office. The faint scent of his woodsy after-shave lingered in the air, and the smell of it caused Robin's blood to pulse thickly. It was strange, what the mere thought of this man did to her. He had this little thing he did to her when they made love… tracing a line of feathery kisses along her neck until he reached her ear. His warm, hungry breath on her skin drove her insane.

  Suddenly she felt lighthearted. She didn't need to decide anything right at this moment. There was plenty of time to think about the best course of action. There were weeks and weeks yet before Jonas was expecting to conclude their present arrangement.

  Right now, she simply wanted to hug to her heart this new and wonderful feeling.

  She flicked the cloth across the top of the computer monitor and was shocked by the amount of dust particles that flew into the air.

  "How does he work in this mess?" she murmured.

  Tugging open a window, she stood back and allowed the warm spring breeze to air out the stuffy room. The curtains blew back and several papers on the desk went sailing through the air an
d onto the floor.

  "Ohhh…" she murmured under her breath. She hurried to close the window a bit and then went around the desk to retrieve the papers.

  She wouldn't even have thought of looking at Jonas's work, but the word "motherhood" jumped out at her, catching her attention, and she read the first line of the article. Jonas did have talent, she realized, to hook his readers into delving further into his opinion pieces.

  In the few minutes it took her to finish the article, Robin experienced a multitude of emotions; all of them, however, were overshadowed by the pain that tore at her heart.

  Tears of disappointment welled in her eyes and her throat closed off until she thought she might suffocate. It was so blatantly obvious that Jonas had used her inept attempts to "mother" Tony as fodder to feed his sick, opinionated genius for humiliating people.

  Oh, he hadn't used her name, but it was blatantly obvious that he'd used her trials and tribulations in his editorial on "new mothers." The fact that he'd taken full advantage of her care-giving fiascos cut her to the bone.

  She concentrated on the line he'd written regarding how new moms often felt as though they were part of a carnival juggling act. Robin remembered referring to herself as an inept juggler only last week when Tony wanted his lunch but she still had groceries to put away and then the telephone began ringing off the wall at the same time that the washer started thumping an unbalanced tune. She'd only been trying to share her feelings with Jonas, and now here he was making her out to be some sort of circus clown. Damn him!

  The tears blurring her vision made it hard for her to read his cliché advice that young women should take the tower of lemons that life handed them and squeeze some lemonade. He would have to bring up her harrowing first experience at the grocery store in the produce department with Tony. God, was nothing safe from the man?

  Jonas might as well have taken the blunt-tipped letter opener there on his desk and jabbed her right in the chest, so great was the ache she felt after reading his assessment of her and her maternal skills… or lack thereof, as he evidently saw it. And the only real reason his opinion mattered was that she'd just discovered what he'd come to mean to her. What a jerk she was.