Accidentally Family

by Sasha Summers

“Yes. We knew it was a shot in the dark. Amber was in foster care most of her life. No relatives to be found. I wish I had a different answer for you. Graham said Matt spoke to you both before he…his surgery.” He glanced between the two of them. “I’m taking it you didn’t know about the other stipulation?”

  “No.” The word was hard. “No.” Her voice softened.

  Robert nodded. “Matt and Amber were clear about what they wanted.”

  How nice for them. Her hands slipped into her lap, smoothing over her gray skirt again and again. Anger now was pointless but inescapable. Neither Matt nor Amber could have anticipated this might happen, but the simple fact that this condition existed was…beyond Felicity’s comprehension.

  The only biological family Jack had in this world were Honor and Nick. But that didn’t make this okay. While Matt and Amber had no problem leaving Jack in Honor’s care, Felicity was dumbfounded. Honor was a child. Eighteen, yes, but still a child. How could he? She had her whole life ahead of her.

  She knew. Deep down, she knew. Matt had counted on her to do what was right for their daughter and his son.

  “I’m assuming you need time to think about this?” Robert asked.

  “No.” Her answer was quick.

  Robert sighed. “Felicity, there’s no need to rush.”

  “No need? Robert…” She swallowed down the arguments that bubbled up. “I’m not rushing into anything. Unless I missed something, there isn’t a choice. Jack’s mine, end of story. You think I’d let Honor give up her scholarship, her future, to raise her little brother? I could never do that. Matt knew it, too.”

  Graham shook his head, running a hand along the back of his neck. She’d seen him do it enough to know he was upset—this time, for her.

  “I know it’s hard to see it this way, but this is a compliment, I think. You’re a good mother, Felicity—one they wanted for Jack.” Robert’s laugh was quick. “And one of the sweetest women in Pecan Valley. Everyone knows that.”

  She wasn’t feeling very sweet. Outraged was more like it. She signed the document and pushed the papers across the table to Robert. The sooner this was over, the sooner they could move on. Honor didn’t need to know about any of this, ever. If she did, she’d feel duty bound to help raise Jack when she was not done growing up herself.

  Robert nodded, scanning the pages and saying, “Financially, you and the children have been well provided for. Amber’s life insurance policy—”

  Felicity held up her hand. “We’ll set up some sort of savings account for Jack’s college.”

  “That will be Graham’s decision, since he’s been assigned as the financial custodian for Jack.” Robert’s smile was tight.

  Graham was staring at the ceiling. “Whatever you want, Felicity.”

  She swallowed. “I want a drink.”

  Graham looked at her then, nodding in agreement.

  “I’d be happy to take you out for a drink, Felicity,” Robert offered. “In a nonlawyer capacity, that is.” He smiled. “Dinner? If you’re free tonight?”

  For the last three days, her decision to “put herself out there” had wavered. Robert’s flowers, texts, and freshly baked cookies were thoughtful, but they didn’t change the way she felt about the man. She stared at him, too shaken to form a gentle, coherent refusal. After all, it wasn’t every day your ex-husband left his toddler from his second marriage to his eighteen-year-old daughter from his first marriage.

  Matt. How could you?

  By now she should be used to this. Disappointment. Astonishment. Anger. And pain. So much. Dammit. It hurt to breathe.

  “I should go,” Graham said, making a show of checking his watch and phone.

  “You’re my ride.” Thank God she had an escape. “Thank you, Robert.”

  Robert stood, clearly disappointed. “I know today wasn’t what you expected.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” she agreed. “Not that I had any expectations.” She’d anticipated Matt would leave everything to the kids. Things like property and investments and money, not a toddler. But Matt continued to throw her curveballs.

  Bone-deep exhaustion had become a way of life.

  Rob walked them to the conference room door, shaking Graham’s hand then hers. But he held on to her for a second to say, “If you need anything, Felicity, you know you can call me.” He gently squeezed her hands in his. “Anything. I’d like to be here for you.”

  “Thank you, Rob.” She pulled her hands free. He meant well, he did, but all she could think of was putting space between them. Soon. With a shaky nod, she followed Graham, her mind spinning from the last hour.

  They climbed into the elevator, the doors closing behind them with a ding.

  Graham faced her. “Are you okay?”

  “No. No. I’m not,” she finished. “How can I be? That was…wrong. So wrong.” She broke off. “How… I mean… I was married to him for so long. But I never thought he’d do something like this.” The words kept coming. “She’s a child, Graham. Falling in love for the first time, playing video games, figuring out who she is—leaving for college. Dammit. That’s what she’s supposed to do at eighteen, you know? This isn’t her mess.” She stared at Graham, looking for answers he couldn’t possibly have. “How could he do this to her?”

  Graham faced her, his brow creasing. “I don’t know.”

  She shook her head, fighting the sting of tears and the roar of blood in her ears. “Dammit.” She sniffed. “It’s not fair, Graham. None of this is fair.” She was spiraling and she knew it. “Jack hates me… And Nick?” Could Nick handle this? How could she make this work?

  She welcomed the solid weight of his arms around her, the way he held her against him, the support he offered.

  “It’s going to be all right,” he whispered against her temple.

  Eyes closed, she focused on the rapid beat of his heart beneath her ear. “I want to believe that. Tell me how?” she asked, gripping his shirtfront and holding on.

  His hands tightened on her back, drawing her closer. “Because you’re you, Felicity. Strong and fierce, nurturing and resilient. I’ve never known anyone as capable of facing something head-on and making the best of it. No, more than that—making it right.”

  “I’m tired of making it right,” she murmured against his chest.

  “I wish I could help.” His voice rumbled beneath her ear.

  He was. Being here. Everything about Graham Murphy was comforting. And, right now, that’s what she needed. Would he be opposed to staying this way for a little bit longer? At least until she could hold her head up without the threat of public ugly crying?

  The elevator dinged.

  She sighed, digging deep for strength.

  But he didn’t move. His arms stayed wrapped around her, holding her tight. It almost opened the floodgates. Almost. Instead, she relaxed, sliding her arms around his waist and leaning into him. Who got on or off the elevator, however many stops they made, she had no idea. All that mattered was the thump of his heart and the support of him—all of him—being there for her.

  It had been so long since she’d had someone to lean on.

  Of course it would be Graham. Solid. Quiet. Constant.

  His hand splayed, smoothing up between her shoulders, then back to her waist. Over and over. Gentle yet firm.

  Touch.

  She’d missed that.

  And scent. No cologne or scented deodorant. Just Graham. A warm and familiar and welcoming scent that drew her in.

  Through his starched cotton dress shirt, she could feel his warmth. It was hard to miss the rest. A muscled chest. Broad shoulders. An impressive physique. All man. Beneath her hands. Pressed tightly against her. His heart against hers. His breath against her ear. The weight of his arms around her. She missed that—missed all of this. Of being a woman aware of a man and embracing the flash of h
eat and flush of want that could spark and burn.

  “Felicity?” Graham’s voice was low.

  Her eyes popped open, and pure mortification washed over her. She’d turned to him for comfort, but a switch had flipped, and a more basic instinct kicked in. Her nose was pressed against the bare patch of skin at the V of his collar. Her hands were twisted in the fabric, gripping the back of his shirt and tugging it free from his pants. And she was aching, arching, into him.

  “I’m sorry.” She pulled away and stepped back. “Oh Graham, I’m so sorry.” Looking at him wasn’t an option. The tears were back—with a heaping dose of humiliation.

  “It’s okay.”

  If it were, he wouldn’t sound so tense. It wasn’t okay. Not at all.

  She gripped the rail that ran around the inside of the elevator and glanced his way, searching for something to say.

  He was flustered, having a friend go from needy to way needy was pretty good reason. His dark hair was mussed, like he’d run his fingers through it, and he stood stiffly with his hands shoved into his pockets and his jaw muscle bulging as he watched the floor numbers tick down.

  She chewed on the inside of her lip. The ding of the elevator made her jump. He gave her a tight smile and waited for her to lead the way out of the building. The sun beat down, but it didn’t stop a fit of shivering that continued even after she huddled in his SUV.

  First finding Honor with Owen, finding out about Owen and Honor. Then the will. Honor and Jack. And Matt. And now Graham. Rather, her attacking Graham. If her reactions were skewed, it was because everything had flipped upside down. Everything she thought she knew—she was wrong.

  They were almost to her house when he finally broke the silence. “Are you going to go out with him?”

  She glanced his way. “What? Who?”

  “Are you going to date Rob?” He ran his hands along the steering wheel at the red light.

  “Oh.” She frowned. Robert Klein was the last person on her mind right now. “No.”

  “Something changed?” he pushed, the muscle in his jaw tightening.

  Maybe. Maybe she’d just been fooling herself. Besides, Robert had stayed good friends with Matt until the end. Right now, that was a strike against him. As was his timing. “Who asks someone out at a reading of the will?”

  He burst into laughter then.

  “It’s sort of unprofessional, isn’t it?” She kept going. “And, even though we’re divorced, the will we were reading was my husband’s.”

  Graham was still laughing.

  Laughter was good—a stress reducer that didn’t involve her making a pass at one of her oldest and dearest friends. Did it scare her a little to realize she’d started relying on him? Yes. But she liked having him back in her life, so hopefully her earlier unhinged behavior wouldn’t chase him away. “Good guy or not, I think I’ll pass on his offer.”

  “Maybe he saw an opportunity,” Graham said, those brown eyes smiling again.

  She shook her head.

  “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He turned the corner and pulled onto her street.

  “Graham.” She waited for him to park. “What happened in the elevator—”

  He shook his head, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “It’s fine.”

  “I was…I am an emotional mess.” She rushed on, breathless. How could she explain? Because she really wanted to explain. The problem was, she didn’t really understand what happened. “I fell apart, which I’ve been trying very hard not to do. And you—” She broke off. He what? “You’re easy to hold on to.” Which was true. Holding on to him had been good. “The support and hugging. The touching. You.” And all the odd sensations the hugging and touching stirred…

  Trying again. “I didn’t think. It was all…feeling.” A pure, exquisite ache she’d thought was gone forever.

  He looked at her then. “What were you feeling?”

  His question caught her off guard. Chances are, telling him he’d woken up her libido was going to make him tense all over again. Friends didn’t typically affect each other’s sex drive. But somehow, he had. “It… You felt good.”

  He stared at her so long and hard that she wasn’t sure what to do. “If I asked you to have a drink with me, what would you say?”

  It was her turn to stare at him. “A drink?” As in a date? Or a drink? But she wasn’t sure she wanted to know, so she didn’t ask.

  He nodded.

  Both of them were still battle weary from their first broken hearts. They had more than their fair share of worry and responsibility to shoulder. But they deserved a break.

  Graham’s brown gaze swept slowly over her face as if he were seeing her for the very first time. There was something undeniably appealing about this gentle, wounded man. What that meant, exactly, had yet to be determined, but she very definitely wanted to find out.

  “What time will you pick me up?” she asked.

  He let out a long, slow breath. “Eight?” he asked.

  She opened the car door and slid from the seat. “I’ll see you at eight.” With a smile and a wave, she made her way to her front door. For the first time in over twenty years, Felicity Otto-Buchanan had butterflies.

  …

  “The blue tie,” Diana said, leaning against the doorway. “Or, here’s an idea, no tie.”

  Graham wove the blue tie beneath his collar and worked a French knot, relieved by her interest in his date. Diana didn’t like many people, but Felicity was a rare exception. Which was good. It had been a hell of a long time since he’d been excited by something. Tonight—he was excited—until he saw his daughter staring back at him in the mirror. She looked pale. Really pale.

  “What?” she asked, pushing off the doorframe.

  He had to tread carefully. By now, he could recognize when something was off with his daughter. And, there was no denying it, something was off.

  “Stop with the look.” She flopped onto his bed. “I haven’t done anything.”

  If only he could believe that. He stared at his reflection, focusing all his energy on tying his tie.

  “Mrs. Buchanan is a babe. Some of the guys call her a MILF. I’m sure you’d agree.”

  “Do I want to know what that means?” he asked.

  She laughed. “Mother I’d like to f—”

  “I don’t want to know,” he cut her off.

  “You’re such a prude.”

  Prude, no. Out of practice, hell yes. He’d come home and taken the world’s longest cold shower, but it hadn’t erased the feel of her breath on his chest. When her hands tugged his shirt from his pants, he’d been frozen with anticipation. Her sudden urgency had held him a willing captive. Need and hunger had rolled over him until he was shaking with it. If he hadn’t stopped her, he wouldn’t have been able to keep his hands to himself.

  “Dad?” Diana’s voice was high and thin, like she was barely keeping it together. “I know you’re excited about getting laid and all but I’m sort of wondering when you were going to tell me.”

  He wasn’t going to let her get to him, not tonight. “Tell you what?”

  She dug into her pocket and pulled out a wadded-up piece of paper. “This. You know, the whole committing me to six weeks of group therapy and tiny paper cups holding colored pills at breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

  Sonofabitch. He went back to tying his tie. “I’m not sending you there.” Stay calm, stay cool.

  “Bullshit.” She sat up, throwing the paper at him. “You’re such a liar.”

  He glanced at her in the mirror. “We are taking a vacation. Going to the beach house.” He’d been biding his time to mention their vacation—on the off chance some unforeseen hiccup derailed his plans. But, as of next Monday, he was taking a leave of absence. This was not how he’d envisioned telling her.

  “The beach house?” Sh
e laughed, a hard, grating laugh. “Right. Sure. Whatever. We don’t like each other. You can’t stand being in the same room with me, but I’m supposed to believe you?” She stared up at the ceiling. “Guess you’ll be making a stop along the way—to drop me off at this Serenity Heights place. First you get rid of Mom. Now you’re trying to get rid of me.”

  His fingers fell from his tie. She didn’t really believe that. Lashing out was her thing. And she was very good at it. But that didn’t stop the razor-blade effect of her words, slicing deep and letting the blood flow.

  Diana grabbed their family picture from his nightstand, her black-smeared eyes narrowing as she stared at the happy image. He’d memorized it, down to every detail. It was like another life. And Julia, his Julia and her wonderful smile. They’d been happy then—all of them. There were times he wondered if he’d ever be happy again.

  He tugged off his tie. What the hell was he thinking? “I don’t want to get rid of you, Diana.”

  She crossed her bony arms over her chest. “You’re saying this is all Doc Adelaide’s idea?”

  He ran a hand along the back of his neck. “She’s worried about you. We’re both worried about you.” Every second of every day, I worry about you. Every time he went to work, every time she went out, he wondered if he’d ever see her again. Why couldn’t she understand that?

  “You don’t need to worry about me. You can’t stop me from doing anything, don’t you get that? You’re not in control.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to that place. You can’t make me. But, if you want, we can talk about this? After you get laid? You’ll be way less tense then.”

  He stared at her, stunned. “Diana.”

  “Dad,” she mimicked and walked out of his room. “I’m not going to the Buchanans’ or Natalie’s or Angie’s tonight! Just go and enjoy your night.” Her door slammed, followed by the angry screaming music she blasted to make sure he knew she wasn’t happy.

  He stared after her, all the excitement and anticipation he’d felt evaporating. Leaving her alone wasn’t an option. When she got like this, she was capable of dangerous things. And, even if he managed to convince her to go with him to the Buchanans’ to hang out with Nick and Honor, she’d be sullen and hateful—two things Felicity’s kids didn’t deserve.