by Nina Croft
He wondered if she’d “handled” many men. He was presuming she must be divorced or widowed. He didn’t think there was a man in her life right now. As far as he could tell, her only family was Emily.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s walk.” She took his arm again—he liked the feeling—and led him out the back end of the barn. A path ran along a creek, and as they walked side by side, a sense of peace washed over him.
Finally they came to a place where a flat rock edged the bank. She released her hold on his arm and sat down. She wore some sort of strappy sandals and she kicked them off and dangled her feet in the water.
“Lovely,” she murmured, then peered up at him still standing. “Join me?”
It almost seemed like a turning point. For a few seconds, he stood and looked around. Like he was taking a step into the unknown. Dangerous territory, and for a moment, he couldn’t force his feet to move. There was that fear again.
Then he took a step forward. And another.
He sank down beside her and tugged off his boots, then his socks, rolled up his pants, and put his feet in the cool, slow-flowing water.
“There, that wasn’t so hard. Was it?”
“You’ll never know.”
He found himself staring at her feet. They were long and slender, like the rest of her. The nails unpainted.
“I like having you here,” she murmured.
“Why?”
“I’m not sure. But I’ve learned not to question things too closely. Just accept them as a gift.”
He snorted. He’d never thought of himself as a gift before. She sounded a little melancholy. But how could you be sad when you were surrounded by all this?
“I take it Tanner told you that he and Emily are having a baby?”
“Yeah. Just as we arrived. It was a…surprise. But he’s a good man. The best. Look what he’s done for me.”
“I do, and it gives me hope.”
“Are you disappointed?”
She turned to him, her eyes widening. “Disappointed? Why should I be?”
“Well, these sorts of things don’t usually happen to…people like you.”
She leaned over, trailing her fingers in the water. “You’d be surprised.”
And he held his tongue, waiting for her to continue. He sensed she had something she wanted to say, but she wasn’t sure how, or maybe even that she should.
“I’ve never talked about this with anyone,” she said eventually. “Not Emily, not Liam—that was my husband. He’s been dead thirty years. But this thing with Emily has brought it all back.”
Again, he wanted to ask why? Why him?
“Maybe because I know you won’t judge,” she said, almost as if he’d asked the question out loud. “Because you’ve also done things you don’t talk about.”
Yeah, that was the truth.
She withdrew her hand and wiped it down her dress, then rested it in her lap. “Anyway, now I’ve decided to talk, I don’t know what to say.”
He remained silent, just staring at the water swooshing back and forth around her feet.
“When I was sixteen, I got pregnant.”
He’d been expecting something similar. Hell, it happened all the time, though he could see that back then, for a girl from a good family it might have been a big deal. “I was impetuous, and I thought I was in love—or maybe I just wanted to be in love—I don’t remember now, except that I wanted to experience everything.” She twirled a strand of hair around her finger. Black. “It was so long ago. Another life.” She shook herself. “My brother had died the year before. In Vietnam. And that had affected me deeply. We were close. He was only twenty. And I remember being filled with a sense that everything could change so easily. Snatched from you in a second. So I grabbed at every bit of life I could. And got rather more than I bargained for.”
“Who was he?”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. But he’s still around. I look at him sometimes and wonder how and why? I find it inconceivable.” She gave him a sideways glance. “At least with age, I’ve developed a little taste. He was sixteen as well. Marriage was never an option. We were just both too young. It would have ruined our lives. I still remember the arguments my parents gave me. All the same, I went to him. I told him I wanted to keep the baby, get married, we would work it out somehow. He told me his family would disown him. That we were too young. That it would ruin our lives. He was like a goddamn fucking parrot.”
The language took him by surprise. He’d never heard her swear before. And it gave him an inkling of how the situation had affected her. How it still did. Maybe it had festered over the years.
“The next day his family shipped him off somewhere. I don’t even remember where. I didn’t see him for years. When I did, there was nothing. No feelings between us. Maybe there never had been. Or maybe I’d just blanked them from my mind. Now I can only be glad that he behaved the way he did. Marriage between us would never have worked.”
“And what happened to the baby?”
He was expecting her to say she’d had an abortion.
“It was a boy.” The words seemed ripped from her throat. Raw and still painful. “They sent me to my aunt’s in Maryland before I started to show. Then, for the last month, to a home for unwed mothers. Run by the Catholic Church. It put me off nuns for life. I wanted to keep the baby. But they took him from me. I should have tried harder. Run away. But I didn’t, and I’ve regretted it ever since.” She took a deep breath. “So there it is. My deep, dark secret. That I don’t want to be a secret anymore.”
“It’s not so bad. Lots of girls get pregnant.” At least, where he’d come from. Though most of them had ended up having backstreet abortions.
“I’m not ashamed of that part. Maybe I should be, but I never was. But I gave away my baby. Or rather I allowed them to take him from me. I didn’t fight for him. Though I cried for twenty-four hours solid afterward. Such a long time ago, and I can still remember the feel of him, the smell of him. I’d begged them, and they let me hold him just for a few minutes. Maybe that was a mistake.” They were silent for a moment. “As I said, a long time ago, but I decided then and there no one would ever tell me what to do again.” She blew out her breath, as though relieved she’d gotten her story out. “Anyway, this thing with Emily has brought it all back, and I’ve made a decision.”
“You have?”
“I’ve decided to look him up. They changed the law, and these days, you can do that. Send a message, and it’s up to him whether he answers. He’ll be fifty-four now. It’s hard to believe. He’ll probably want nothing to do with me. But I have to try. Some things you don’t get over.” She looked at him. “What do you think?”
Hell if he knew. “I think…” Actually, he had no clue.
“I know. I’ve thought of the downsides. What if he never even knew he was adopted? What if he knows and he hates me because I abandoned him? What if he had a horrible childhood and it’s all my fault? What if I get my hopes up and he’s…already dead?”
“Jesus, woman. Stop. Do it or don’t do it. But don’t drive yourself crazy thinking about it.”
She smiled. “You’re right.” She jumped to her feet. “I’m glad I told you. You know, the Catholics have it right in one thing. Confession is good for the soul. I feel much better.”
She held her hand out to him, and he looked up at her. Then placed his palm in hers and allowed her to pull him to his feet. “Come on, get your shoes on,” she said. “We’ll walk some more, we need to give the young ones some time alone to talk. And now I’ve told you my secret, and you can tell me yours. All about how you once killed a man.”
Jesus. Never going to happen.
Chapter Nineteen
Ugh.
There was one good thing about being pregnant. Once it came out, as it must do soon, Ryan would stop pestering her. She really hadn’t thought he cared that much. Just that he’d decided the time was right to marry, so he’d looked around for the most
suitable candidate. And lucky her.
She thought that because it was pretty much what he’d told her when he proposed.
Now, all of a sudden, he’d fallen madly in love with her.
He couldn’t live without her.
It was crazy. He was crazy. And annoying. He wanted her to give him another chance.
Was it just that she was the one who got away? Ryan had a competitive streak. Maybe he just couldn’t stand the thought of not winning.
Anyway, another chance wasn’t an option. And he’d hardly want her pregnant with another man’s baby. The time was coming when she would have to tell someone—the school board, at least, and she was not looking forward to that. And once she’d told them, then the whole town would know, because that’s how Saddler Cove worked. But before then, she needed to figure out just what sort of role Tanner was going to play in her and her baby’s lives. What role he wanted to play.
Part of her was worried that he’d decide it was better for them all if he backed away. That deep down he believed that having no father was better than having Tanner O’Connor. And a small part of her suspected he was right. And that there was a whole load of heartache waiting up ahead if she kept up this thing with Tanner.
But bad attitude and all, she liked him.
More than liked him. It was becoming harder to deny the desire she felt for him. Harder to shut down the memories of the one night they’d had together. She dreamed of him. The feel of his hands on her skin and his kisses and…
But Tanner was his own worst enemy. He believed he was bad, almost reveled in it, and if she couldn’t break through that, then there was no hope of a future for them as parents.
She was scared. Scared to talk to him in case he said it was over.
But maybe that was for the best, and she could move on with her life. Plan a different future for her and the baby. She swallowed. One without a father.
Either way, she was going to be brave and talk to him. She hated to be sensible, but she was going to have to be. Try and push through that barrier and find out what Tanner was thinking underneath, where it mattered.
And thinking of unlikely couples, she’d seen Mimi and Josh head into the barn, arm in arm. What was going on there?
Tanner had told her that Josh had pretty much saved his life. That without the other man, he might not have survived his time. He’d been so angry. And young and stupid. Josh had taught him the unspoken rules. How to navigate the prison’s unofficial politics. He’d also encouraged him to read and learn new things. To expand his mind.
She just hoped Mimi wouldn’t be hurt.
Or Josh, for that matter.
As she headed down the stairs, the sound of piano music drifted out of the drawing room. At first she thought it was a record—she recognized it as the piano concerto she’d heard with Tanner on their first date. Then a wrong note. A pause, and the music started again. She walked slowly down the rest of the stairs and across the hall, hesitating in the doorway. Tanner sat at the piano, his long fingers moving over the keys. He hit another wrong note and swore, then started playing again, and this time it was faultless, and she closed her eyes and let the music soothe her fears.
He couldn’t be all bad if he could produce something so beautiful.
And where on earth had he learned? He was good. She’d heard enough to recognize that. He wasn’t technically perfect, but he made up for that in feeling.
Finally, the music fell silent, and she opened her eyes and found him watching her. “Sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t resist. I’ve never played a grand piano before.”
“Don’t be. It hasn’t been played since my father died, although Mimi keeps it tuned and…” She was babbling. “I didn’t know you played.”
“I bet it’s the last thing you’d have thought I could do.”
“Maybe not the last.” But pretty close. “How? When?”
“In prison.” He grinned. “It was part of my anger management therapy.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Believe it or not, but apparently, I had anger issues when I went inside. Anyway, there was this local pianist. He used to come in once a week. Said he wanted to give something back. And he gave lessons. He took a liking to me, said I was a natural.”
“Did it help?”
He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Yeah. It did. Still does. If you’d ever asked me if I’d like classical music, I would have said—hell no. But I find it…soothing.”
“Where do you play? You must practice. You’re good.” He was better than good. There was a magic to his playing.
“I go to Ben’s place. He has a piano and lets me play when the club is closed. Occasionally when it’s open. Not classical then, though. Jazz. I like that as well.”
She remembered now. At the bar when she’d told him she was pregnant. His uncle had asked if he wanted to play. She hadn’t known what he meant, and her mind had been on other things.
She closed the distance between them, came to a halt only inches away, trying to get her head around this new facet of his personality. Tanner the piano player. “You’re not angry anymore?”
“Only sometimes. Like when Ryan fucking Forrester calls up my girl like he’s got the goddamn right to talk to her.”
Butterflies swirled in her belly. His girl? “He still wants to marry me.”
He turned on the stool so he was facing her, his eyes narrowed. “And what did you say?”
“That he needs to look for someone a little more sensible. And since when am I your girl?”
He looked up at her. It wasn’t often she saw him from this angle—normally he was looking down at her. He was so beautiful she ached. And suddenly she just wanted to forget sensible for a while. Forget everything, the baby, the school board…
“Since you stripped off and offered yourself to me,” he said. “I haven’t been able to get the image out of my head.”
Her heart tripped. “Really?” Not that she’d been able to tell. Except for a couple of measly kisses, he’d been treating her like a sister since.
“Yeah. I’ve been trying so fucking hard, but baby, being with you, and not touching you…is hell.”
She swallowed. Her mouth dry, her skin hot, her breasts all achy. She could do this. Be bold. “Touch me, then.”
His eyes narrowed, and he searched her face. What he saw there made him groan, and he reached out almost tentatively and rested his hands on her hips, pulling her slowly between his legs. His palms seemed to burn through the material of her dress as she inched forward, and a longing welled up inside her so strong she swayed toward him. He leaned in to her and rested his head against her breasts for long minutes. Not moving, and she put her hand to the back of his head and dug her fingers in the silky strands of his hair, holding him closer.
Finally he pushed her away slightly, stared into her eyes. “You sure? ’Cos, baby, I want this so bad, and if you say no now”—he paused, gave her a wink—“you might put my therapy right back to the beginning.”
“I won’t say no.”
“Then come here.” He gave her a tug and a little twist, and she ended up on his knee. His hand curved behind her head, drawing her closer so her senses filled with the scent of him, warm, clean, male. Then he kissed her, and rational thought abandoned her, leaving pure feeling. The softness of his lips, the warm, wet velvet of his tongue, filling her, stroking against hers, heating her blood until it all but boiled in her veins. The hardness of his fingers digging into her flesh.
Finally, he ran out of air. He lifted his head and glanced around as if remembering where he was. “Jesus, I’d forgotten. Josh and your gran.”
“Gone for a walk.”
All the same, maybe they should take this someplace else. She wriggled off his lap and held out her hand. He slipped his palm into hers, and she pulled him along, out of the room and up the stairs, along the corridor, and stopped in front of the door to her room. She’d never had a boy here. Only a fantasy one, anyway. She pushed
open the door and tugged him inside. Then dropped her hold on his hand and turned to face him. He was looking around, well, mainly at the queen-sized bed with the purple and grey cover.
“Is this your room?”
She nodded.
“It’s nice.” He crossed to the window and peered outside. “You’re sure your gran’s not coming back to catch us?”
No, she wasn’t, and part of her was terrified. But she wanted this. Needed this. “Tanner, shut up and take off your shirt.”
His eyes widened, and a slow smile spread across his face. “My, aren’t we the forward one.”
“Please.” Actually, she couldn’t believe she was being so forward, but she needed to see him naked.
“Okay. But lock the door. I know she can probably kick it down, but I’d feel safer.”
She laughed and backed up and clicked the door lock without taking her eyes off him.
“What was it you wanted?” he asked with a wicked glint in his eye.
“Tanner!”
He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay.” Then holding her gaze, he grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head, dropped it onto the floor.
Her breath caught as she stared. That first night had been too frantic for her to really take him in. Now she looked her fill. He was all long, lean lines, golden skin over hard muscle. His jeans were loose and hung low on his hips, and his flat stomach was ridged with more muscle, with a line of golden fur that disappeared inside his waistband, and her fingers itched with the need to stroke down that line, follow where it led. She could feel her breathing speed up, her heart racing.
She cleared her throat. “The rest.”
He made a small noise, and her gaze flew to his face. His eyes were dark, heavy-lidded, his lips slightly parted, nostrils flaring. “You’re gonna undo me looking at me like that.”
“I want to undo you.” Actually, she wasn’t quite sure what that involved, but it sounded good.
“Are you ready?”
She nodded, having lost the ability to speak as his hand went to the button on his jeans. She held her breath as he flicked it open. Didn’t let it go as he lowered his zipper. Finally she had to breathe, and the air left her in a whoosh.