Surrender to Love

by Adrianne Byrd

  “Forgive me, Julia, but I went ahead and sliced you and Robin a piece. Are you sure I can’t persuade you to try some?”

  “Can we, Mommy?” Robin’s face was awash with anticipation.

  “Lilly won the county fair’s blue ribbon award for this recipe,” Carson boasted, plunging his fork into his serving.

  “In that case, we would love to have a piece.”

  “Good,” Lilly said, then served Julia and her daughter.

  “One thing I love about Lilly,” Carson said in between bites, “is that her cooking has come a long way since we were children.”

  “Oh, shut up.” Lilly swatted at his shoulder. “You loved my mud pies and you know it.”

  Robin laughed. “You used to eat mud pies?”

  “Tricked, I tell ya. She tricked me one time.”

  Robin giggled.

  “Don’t blame me for that. If you weren’t so smitten with my best friend, Karen, and trying to impress her, you would have never tried one of our pies.”

  Carson’s smile took on a glowing tenderness while he seemed locked in a pleasant memory.

  Curiosity fluttered within Julia.

  Lilly’s smile soon resembled her brother’s and she reached over and squeezed his hands. “I miss her, too.”

  Julia lowered her gaze, suddenly feeling that she was imposing on a private moment between them.

  “So where were you two headed in such a terrible storm?” Lilly asked, abruptly changing the subject.

  Julia tensed and looked up into Carson’s and Lilly’s curious stares. “I had no idea that I was driving into tornado weather.”

  “That goes for me, too,” Carson piped in. “My sister and her husband are the Weather Channel junkies around here. They may not watch much TV, but they keep their faces glued to the Weather Channel.” He received another swat from his sister. “What? It’s the truth.”

  “Whatever.”

  Julia took a bite of her dessert and emitted a moan of pleasure.

  “Ah, I take it you like it?”

  Julia nodded. “Like it? I love it. You are a wonderful cook. How do you do it?”

  “Oh, please.” Lilly waved her off. “I’m nothing compared to my mother.”

  “That’s the truth,” Carson agreed with a stuffed mouth. He was rewarded with another swat on the arm. “Ouch.”

  “Anyway,” Lilly continued, “our mom is a master in the kitchen. And for as long as I can remember I’ve aspired to be just like her.”

  “Mommy is a good cook, too,” Robin said, puffing her chest out with pride. “Aren’t you, Mommy?” She turned expectant eyes toward Julia.

  Carson perked up. “Is that right?”

  Julia shook her head and disappointed her champion. “I’m nowhere near your sister. I can tell you that much,” she said modestly. “I mean, my specialty is meat loaf, for Pete’s sake.”

  “I don’t know. There’s a lot to be said for meat loaf.” Carson smiled broadly.

  Lilly looked put off. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those fancy career women who have no time for domestic duties? I mean, I run a fairly successful business and I still manage to take care of my home.”

  “Lillian,” Carson reprimanded. “Don’t insult our guest.”

  Julia blinked at Lilly’s sarcasm. Where did that come from?

  “Mommy is a doctor,” Robin defended.

  Julia stiffened.

  Carson’s gaze returned to Julia. “Smart as well as beautiful, eh?”

  “I think it’s time we called it a night,” she said.

  Her daughter turned as she opened her mouth to protest, but at Julia’s hard glare, she closed her mouth.

  Julia stood. “Thank you for dinner and dessert.”

  Lilly stood as well. “Oh, I didn’t mean to offend—”

  “No apologies are needed. Robin, say good night.”

  Robin got up from the table. “Good night, Mrs. Roberts and Mr. Webber.”

  “Good night,” the brother and sister said in unison.

  Julia took her daughter’s hand and led her from the table.

  Once they were out of earshot, Robin looked up at her. “Did I say something wrong, Mommy?”

  “No, sweetie. It’s just late and I’m going to need my sleep so we can get back on the road tomorrow.”

  “Should we call David and tell him that we’re going to be late?”

  It took everything Julia had not to burst into tears. She needed to tell Robin what had happened to David. But she didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t quite sure of everything herself.

  As things stood, she didn’t even know who she’d been married to for the last three years. Their divorce had been finalized less than a week. So how could she tell Robin that David was dead and they were now on the run from none other than the FBI?

  Chapter 4

  “Your father hates me,” Tony announced, climbing into bed. “I don’t think he’ll ever accept me as a son-in-law.”

  Michelle’s gaze jerked from the thick law book nestled on her lap and over toward him. “What? Don’t be ridiculous. Daddy loves you.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” He ignored her blue eyes’ penetrating stare.

  She closed the book and rolled over onto her side to face him. “What makes you think he doesn’t like you?”

  Tony regretted he’d brought it up. There wasn’t any proof that Paul didn’t like him, just a gnawing gut feeling that grew harder to ignore. “I’ve invited him to dinner at least ten times. And each time…” He shook his head. “I don’t know. When we were just colleagues, I thought that we were cool. Now we have this palpable tension that…I don’t know—it’s driving me crazy.”

  Tony knew during the ensuing silence that she was struggling for an excuse for Paul’s behavior. In a way it made the situation worse. Of course she would defend her father. She was supposed to. But he didn’t like the uneasiness he felt when she chose Paul’s side, nor did he like the fact that the issue forced her to choose a side.

  “Let’s give him some more time,” she suggested with pleading eyes.

  He looked away.

  “Come on. You know the way he found out about us had to have been a shock for him.” Her face flushed from the memory.

  Tony nodded, remembering Paul entering Michelle’s apartment with a bouquet of flowers and discovering them making love near the fireplace. She’d forgotten to cancel her dinner date with Paul and, in turn, had set an awkward stage for all involved.

  “It wasn’t exactly how I wanted him to find out about us,” Tony said.

  Michelle exhaled but her smile remained tender. “Nor did I. But what has happened, happened. We need to give him more time to adjust to the idea.”

  “We’re more than an idea. We’re the real thing.”

  “I know. I know,” she agreed. “But can you do this for me? Give him some more time.”

  What she was asking wasn’t unreasonable. The way she looked at him through her wire-rimmed glasses made him feel that perhaps he was reading too much into things. Maybe if they had told Paul about their two-year relationship, he wouldn’t have taken things so hard.

  She read his troubled expression. “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he lied, then leaned over to kiss her gently on the lips. As he drew near, he inhaled the faint scent of roses. It was in her hair and on her skin. It was one of the things he loved about her. At times like these she was soft and vulnerable, but as a lawyer she was hard and unyielding.

  She was an interesting combination of contradictions. With each day that passed, he found himself more fascinated with all the facets that made her who she was.

  Their lips met and a familiar flutter returned in his heart. Yes, she was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, despite the obstacles and challenges that lay before them—and since they were an interracial couple, there were sure to be plenty.

  When their lips parted, he was satisfied with her widening smile. Her eyes fluttered open, and the
love that radiated from them overwhelmed him.

  “It’s not nothing, and you know it,” she said, undaunted by this attempt to distract her.

  He groaned and smiled at the same time. She knew him too well. “Okay, then maybe it’s just not a big deal.”

  Unconvinced, she held his gaze.

  “Really. I think I’m going to do just like you said and just give your dad more time. I’m sure that he’ll come around.”

  “You mean it?” she asked.

  Tony drew her into his arms with the full realization that he was willing to do anything to please her. “Of course I mean it.” He kissed her, and all thoughts regarding her father were forgotten for the rest of the night.

  Paul couldn’t get the mall shooting out of his head. There were too many holes in the puzzle, and it didn’t sit well with him.

  Still dressed in his work clothes, minus the tie, Paul sat at his desk in his home office and reviewed his notes. He had to be missing something—call it a hunch. The crime scene didn’t make much sense.

  The hour grew late, and by the time he was ready to head off to bed, Paul had made up his mind to start his investigation with Newman’s team members. In the morning he’d suggest that Tony talk with Newman’s partner.

  On the way to the bedroom, he stopped in the kitchen and retrieved a beer. It was the perfect nightcap to a grueling day. It would also help numb the pain of retiring to an empty bed. But it would be only a temporary fix. Within an hour or two the familiar ache of loneliness would return, as it had every night.

  Often he’d thought about moving to a place where there weren’t so many memories, but he knew that he never would. It was strange going through the motions of life without Sarah. Once upon a time he’d thought that she would have outlived him. She was the health-conscious one, the one who ran marathons and even had a membership to the local gym. So how was it that he, her complete opposite, was still alive and kicking?

  The injustice of it all sent Paul reeling and left little for him to look forward to.

  Next month Michelle would be a married woman and probably wouldn’t need him anymore. That knowledge only deepened his depression. He didn’t want to let her go. Not now, not when he needed her. He shook off the notion. He was being selfish.

  Tony was a good man, and Paul had no doubts that his agent would do a good job taking care of his baby. But being the old man they’d invite to dinner out of obligation once, maybe twice a year hurt.

  Michelle had suggested that he start dating again. Dating? Him? The thought was ludicrous. There would never be another woman like Sarah; of that he was sure. So why bother settling for second best?

  In the back of his mind, Paul knew that he needed to be more accepting of Tony as part of the family. It wasn’t that he didn’t like him: Tony was a great guy. It was simply that Tony was taking Michelle from him. He was forcing Paul to realize that she wasn’t a little girl anymore, which was hard as hell to accept.

  When exactly had she stopped wearing pigtails and started wearing makeup? He couldn’t remember. Somehow slumber parties blended with prom night, and hanging out with girlfriends turned into a string of boys tying up the phone lines. In retrospect, everything seemed to race by in a blur and, at times, he found himself wishing more than once for everything to slow down.

  Paul drained the rest of his beer and clicked off his lamp. Tomorrow he would be more open and friendly with Tony and try harder to let go of his daughter.

  Unfortunately, it was a promise he made to himself every night. One day he would make good on it.

  Frankie Montello was known throughout the mafioso as a master of his craft. There wasn’t a security system invented that he couldn’t bypass, and the ancient system in place at Dr. Julia Kelley’s home was almost an insult to his sensibilities.

  Once inside, he cast a cursory glance over the home’s modest furnishings. So this was where David Mercer had been hanging out for the last three years—hitched up to some doctor in the suburbs of Atlanta. He guessed that it was as good a place as any. But it wouldn’t exactly be Frankie’s choice if it had been him on the run for his life.

  Frankie moved into the living room, his ears perked for any unusual sounds. A man could never be too careful. As he passed a small secretary, he noticed it was lined with photographs. His brows arched in surprise. He reached out a gloved hand and picked up one of the frames.

  In the picture, David Mercer smiled back at him. Next to him was a woman he assumed to be Dr. Julia Kelley. He had to hand it to David—he chose a real knockout. The woman was a classic beauty, with eyes that resembled a cat’s. In David’s lap sat an adorable little girl who was a replica of her mother.

  He smiled. So David had managed to steal a piece of the American pie. It was almost touching.

  Frankie returned the frame, then looked through the drawer of the secretary. He wasn’t surprised when he came up empty-handed. Where would he hide the stuff if he were David? Hell, it could be buried in the backyard, for all he knew.

  He shook his head at the prospect of digging up the backyard, then realized that would have been too much work for David. Something simpler then, he decided.

  He made it upstairs into the master bedroom and was surprised to see clothes tossed everywhere. Had someone made it here before him? He thought about it and decided not to rule anything out.

  After he’d thoroughly checked the master bedroom, he entered the adjoining bathroom and stopped short at seeing David’s dead body lying in a pool of blood.

  “Well, well. What do we have here?” A wry smile tugged at his lips. “It looks like someone’s luck has finally run out.”

  Frankie cocked his head to the side as he stared at David’s lifeless eyes. It appeared he had taken a hit in the chest. Had one of Vinny’s men tracked him back here and finished him off?

  And had someone set the house alarm?

  When the obvious answer dawned on him, a low chuckle soon turned into a rumble of laughter. “Well, well. It looks like the little cat has claws.”

  He turned away from the bathroom and saw another picture on the nightstand by the bed that got the wheels turning inside his head. Could it be possible that David had entrusted his secret to her?

  It wouldn’t exactly have been a smart move, which was why he had to consider it. Did she have what he was looking for? And if she did, where was the good doctor now?

  Chapter 5

  During the night, Julia silently watched her daughter while she slept in the large poster bed amid soft cotton sheets. There was always a sense of peace whenever she watched Robin—that and a tinge of hope. Even now, when things were at their worst, Robin provided her with that rare emotion.

  She leaned over and placed a feathery kiss on Robin’s forehead. The corners of her lips twitched upward while tears crested her lashes and forged a path down her face. By tomorrow they’d be back on the road to nowhere, praying for divine intervention.

  Quietly, Julia slipped out of bed. The cool hardwood floor felt good beneath her bare feet, while the soft breeze streaming from the open window caressed her skin. The storm had ended over an hour ago, but the smell of summer rain still lingered on the night air.

  A magnificent garden lay beneath her window. No doubt it was a labor of love for its creator. As Julia stood there, she couldn’t help noticing the palpable silence that cloaked the small town.

  Carson viewed the townfolk as being a part of one big family. His simplistic view was a foreign concept, since Julia was a born-and-bred city girl.

  To be honest, she had lived in her home in Atlanta for nearly five years and had never taken the time to meet her neighbors.

  She stood at the window, puzzled by this, and finally thought that the answer was that people were simply too busy, just as she’d been.

  She drew in a deep, cleansing breath. All of her life she had wanted to be a doctor, more because her father had been one and she had adored everything about him. She’d also hoped to marry a man just like h
im, but failed—twice. David’s haunting image floated up from her subconscious, and a strange chill coursed down her spine.

  She closed her eyes, and the vibrant color of blood flashed behind her lids.

  Her eyes flew open as she clasped a hand against her pounding heart. She hadn’t taken time to digest David’s death, too scared to process all she’d learned about her husband in the past few weeks.

  Everything between them had been a lie. She knew that now, but it would probably take a lifetime to accept. It wasn’t because she was still in love with David. That had actually ended years before—back when he’d stopped pretending to be kind and considerate and instead became a short-tempered, illogical man who believed that everyone was out to get him. As it turned out, he had been right.

  The only reason Julia had stayed in the marriage was for Robin. David adored her, despite the fact that he wasn’t her biological father. He had been the only father Robin had ever known.

  Julia sorted through the events that had led her to Moreland, and wished like hell that she’d never bought a gun.

  Her thoughts then drifted to Special Agent Newman. Had he set her up? She had trusted him, poured out her heart and told him everything about David. If she’d shown up at the mall, would she have walked into a trap?

  And David…

  Julia hugged her arms tightly around her body. She was responsible for David’s death; there was no denying that. The only dilemma that faced her now was whether the FBI wanted her dead as well. The very idea seemed ludicrous.

  Julia grew tired of wrestling with the past. She needed to concentrate on the future, no matter how bleak.

  The heady scent of honeysuckle wafted through the window, and a smile curved her lips. Again, she marveled over the town’s stillness. What would it be like to live and grow old in a town like Moreland?

  Carson opened his daughter’s bedroom door and peered inside to see Bobbi nestled comfortably in the middle of her twin-size bed. He leaned against the doorframe while his heart bloomed with love at the sight of her angelic face.