Shades of Gray

by Vicki Hinze

“Of course. I understand.” She stiffened and persisted. “But to keep Timmy, you need a wife. I know there isn’t anyone special in your life, so that leaves me.”

  “Why in hell would you marry a man with a son and no future? You, of all people, should have better sense.” He laced his fingers atop his head and closed his eyes, as if silently cursing, or praying.

  When he reopened them, he glared at her. “It’s highly likely I’ll never live to see thirty-five, and we both know it. Think about that. And think about yourself, not just Timmy. Are you forgetting who you are?”

  “No. But I think you might be.”

  Agitated and obviously bent on reminding her anyway, from his perspective, Jake began pacing again, hanging in the shadows just beyond the lamplight. “Look, you went into the military to do high-tech communications research, and you became an expert—a captain in Intel who could pick her pet projects and her terms, and you did it. Yet all of that still wasn’t enough for you.”

  She’d loved her work in the Special Ops intelligence community, and she still loved her research. But it hadn’t been enough, which was exactly why marrying him made sense. “I haven’t forgotten, Jake.” Nor had she forgotten Madeline’s part in why she was no longer in the military. That, however, Laura had sworn to herself she’d never tell Jake.

  He’d said the last thing he needed was a wife, but it wasn’t. He didn’t need more guilt, which is exactly what he’d feel if she told him how Madeline’s antics had affected her and her career.

  He stopped near the table and glared over the slope of his shoulder back at her. “Damn it, you know you hated the constant danger of working Intel. You hated not knowing where you’d be tomorrow or next week, never mind next year.”

  “Yes, I did. Enough to get out of the Air Force to get away from it.”

  “You hated having no idea what mission you’d be on, or where you’d be performing it, and you walked out—as much as anyone can walk out of Intel—to get yourself a personal life.”

  Was he going to laundry list her whole life here? “All of that is true, but—”

  “Then why are you telling me you’re willing to give up a personal life and put yourself right in the middle of all of the things you hated again?”

  “Because I am willing.” Laura looked him right in the eye. “And that’s exactly what I’m telling you.” She lifted a hand, palm upward. “I’m willing.”

  He dragged a hand through his hair, spiking it. “You’re forgetting about Madeline. As much as I wish she would, she isn’t going to go away.” A grimace flattened his generous mouth to a tight slash. “If I’ve accepted nothing else in the two years since the divorce, I’ve accepted that she’ll be a thorn in my side until the day I die. You can’t be willing to accept that, too.”

  “Yes, I can,” Laura said without hesitating, then leaned forward in her chair, a little amused by the disbelief in his tone. “Listen, you’re right about all of this. But you’re forgetting the one reason that makes all of it insignificant.”

  He lifted his hands, and the button on his left shirt-cuff winked in the lamplight. “What the hell could make all of this insignificant?”

  “Timmy.” Her throat sandpaper dry, Laura dredged up her courage and then spoke from the heart, something she had rarely let herself do with anyone, including Jake. “I’d do it for Timmy,” she said. “I love him, Jake.”

  The skepticism in his expression wilted, and the hard lines in his face softened. “I know you love him, but we’re talking marriage here. This isn’t a day at the park in San Francisco, or a week in the Sierras playing in the snow. You’d be sacrificing your shot at a happy, normal life with a real marriage.”

  She bristled, and her tone went flat. “I’m aware of the difference.”

  “I didn’t mean to insult you.” His exasperation escaped on a sigh. “Ah, hell, Laura, you know what I mean.”

  “Yes, I do. I got out of the Air Force because I wanted to put down roots in a quiet and peaceful life. But, in case you haven’t noticed, my friend, it’s been four years since I took off my captain’s bars, and my roots and the rest of me are still single.”

  Unable to sit and speak this frankly, she stood up and moved behind the stuffed chair, then grasped the back of it in a knuckle-tingling grip, wondering why in heaven she smelled lemons. She despised them, and she knew for a fact there was nothing in her apartment that even resembled the scent. “You know how much I wanted children. You also know my biological clock didn’t get a shot at ticking before it shut down. I’ll never have children myself, but I have had Timmy. In my heart, he’s my son, Jake, and he always has been. And right now, my son needs me.”

  Jake stared at her, a little surprised but even more awed. Laura had let him glimpse inside her on occasion, but never like this. And in her expression, determined and yet vulnerable, he realized the truth. Her suggestion to marry him truly had nothing to do with him. It had to do with what was best for Timmy.

  Relieved by that, Jake moved out from the shadows on the floor into the lamplight and plucked at the nubby fabric on the back of the sofa. He considered her proposal from that perspective, and, in the end, he decided she made a lot of sense. But they had to be perfectly clear on the terms of this agreement. He didn’t dare to not be crystal clear.

  “You’re right,” he said. “I do need a mother for Timmy. But I don’t need a wife.” His gray eyes turned steely. “If we should do this, as egotistical as it sounds, I would have to know you’d never make the mistake of falling in love with me. Not ever.” The skin between his brows furrowed. “My mortality rating is bad at best. We have no future. You can never forget that, and you can never take the chance of loving me.”

  They had been friends for over a decade. Did he think this was a news flash? “I know.”

  His frown deepened, and his voice grew even more stern. “I won’t love you. And I won’t forget it—not for a second. I can’t forget it, and I can’t handle any guilt or regret or the worry of wondering that you might. I won’t worry, and I won’t regret, Laura. And even five or ten years from now, I won’t tolerate recriminations or reprisals being tossed into my face because of the way things are. I’m telling you now exactly how things will always be. I’ve got to know you understand that, and it’s okay with you. Otherwise, I can’t do what I have to do.”

  The job. Duty first. How well she remembered the drill. And as warnings went, this one wasn’t so bad. She’d heard worse from him, and those had worked out amicably. “Quit ranting and listen to me, okay?” When he stopped at the other side of the coffee table and stuffed his fist into his pocket, she went on. “I don’t love you, Jake. I’m not in love with you, and I can’t fathom, even in my wildest imagination, ever being in love with you. So none of that is a problem.”

  That blunt disclosure had the logical man fighting the male ego in Jake, and he suspected Laura knew it. What looked suspiciously like a smile tugged at her lips. A muscle in his jaw twitched.

  “You’ll have your home and your life, and I’ll have mine,” she said in a tone so calm and reasonable it set his teeth on edge. “We’ll just do what we’ve always done: work together for whatever is in Timmy’s best interest. The only difference is we’ll be married.”

  “So you accept that’s all our relationship can ever be?” Jake asked, still unconvinced. How could she be satisfied, settling for so little for herself? He had to be missing something she hadn’t considered. “I’m serious about all this. We’ll never be emotionally close. We’ll never be a real couple, or any more of a family than we are now.”

  “We certainly won’t,” she firmly insisted. “But we will be married, and that’ll ‘greatly enhance’ your odds of keeping custody of Timmy. That’s what matters most to me.”

  Jake stared at her in disbelief. “Why?”

  Laura accepted it. He wasn’t going to rele
nt. Not until he felt satisfied, and to give him satisfaction, she had to bare even more truths. Ones she preferred not to think about, much less discuss. Still, this was for Timmy. She would do it, but she’d be damned if she could look Jake in the eye when she did. She focused on the placket of his gray corduroy shirt. “I was a vulnerable child.” Saying that out loud, even after all these years, still rattled her. “I didn’t like it. And I won’t have a child I consider my son vulnerable. Not if I can stop it.”

  He dipped his chin and stayed silent a long moment. Obviously her disclosure about being vulnerable had taken him by surprise. Or maybe it hadn’t, and he didn’t want her to know that he had surmised that truth a long time ago.

  He lifted his chin to look at her. “We’d be taking a shot, but it could be for nothing. Madeline could win the custody suit, anyway.”

  “Highly doubtful,” Laura countered. “I’m clean, with strong credentials and no history that could hurt him. Dr. Laura Taylor, formerly Captain Laura Taylor, will round out your superiority nicely, I would say.” Lord, how she wished she felt as confident about that as she had sounded.

  Surprise flickered through his eyes. “You’re even willing to flaunt your titles on this?”

  Hating pretentious titles, she blanched. But for Timmy? Anything. Even that. “Yes.”

  Jake’s lip curled, hinting at a crooked smile. “You really are sure about this.”

  Finally, he was coming around. How could she not be sure? “To keep Timmy away from Madeline, I’d marry the devil himself. You can be ruthless, friend, but you’re far less daunting than the devil.”

  Laura had thought this through. And Jake supposed he could understand why she would find settling for him acceptable. Even without a future, she wanted to feel connected to someone outside herself—to Timmy. And from living through Jake’s marriage to Madeline along with him, Laura knew the hell a traditional marriage involved. Not loving him and being Timmy’s stepmother, when she already considered herself his mother, was emotionally safe. “Can you tell me straight out you know and accept that the only reason I’m marrying you is to keep Madeline away from Timmy?”

  “I know and accept it,” Laura said without reservation, then issued a warning of her own. “And I want to know you accept that Timmy is the only reason I would marry you.”

  “Of course.” He shrugged. “Why else?”

  The man had no idea of his appeal. Which is probably why they had been able to be friends and keep their relationship purely platonic.

  It took a lot more discussion—actually, until dawn was breaking outside—but finally, Laura settled his fears, and the worry cleared from Jake’s face.

  “Okay,” he said, rubbing his lower lip between his forefinger and thumb. “Okay, let’s do it.”

  “Okay.” Laura stood up, feeling buoyant. It wasn’t the traditional proposal or acceptance, and theirs wouldn’t be anything like a traditional marriage. But it would serve the purpose and hopefully put a damper on Madeline’s plan to bring more turmoil into Timmy’s life. A sacrifice for both Laura and Jake, but one that—please, God!—would spare Timmy.

  That possibility alone made any sacrifice worth the price they had to pay.

  Two weeks later, in a Lake Tahoe chapel, Laura Taylor put on an antique white lace dress, held a bouquet of pale yellow roses and baby’s breath, and became Jake Logan’s wife.

  It never occurred to her or Jake to exchange wedding rings, and the justice of the peace had to remind Jake to kiss his bride.

  Two weeks and three days after the wedding, Madeline went on another drinking binge and dropped the custody suit.

  That news came to Laura via Jake, who met her for lunch at the Golden Dragon, a tiny Chinese restaurant they frequented. He suggested they have their marriage annulled.

  Awash in relief over the dropping of the suit, Laura considered the annulment for nearly two minutes before deciding against it. “No,” she said, watching a brunette waitress who was as thin as a rail scurry from table to table, refilling glasses from a frosty pitcher of iced tea. “No annulment.”

  About to take a bite of spicy-smelling lo mein, Jake paused, his fork midair. “No?”

  “No,” Laura insisted, removing a smelly lemon wedge from the saucer of her hot tea and dumping it into an empty bowl. “What if something should happen to you? Considering the job, we know it’s a strong possibility.”

  He put his fork down. “Custody of Timmy would automatically revert to Madeline.”

  “Exactly.” Laura leaned closer, across the red-clothed table, then dropped her voice to a whisper to avoid being overheard by the two women lunching at the next table. “I know that’s eaten at you inside for a long time—worrying about that happening. It’s worried me, too. And now we have the opportunity to do something about it. I think rather than get an annulment, we need to pursue a stepparent adoption.”

  Jake opposed. Strongly. “No, you’ve sacrificed enough for us already.”

  While other diners came, ate, and departed, he went on to reiterate every logical reason in the book why she shouldn’t want to do this, informed her that Madeline would never give her consent, and then reiterated it all some more, in case Laura had missed anything the first time he’d said it.

  When he paused for breath, Laura interjected, “But she’s an alcoholic, Jake.”

  “True, but she’s one with substantial credentials. She spent years in the intelligence community as an assistant to Colonel James, and that will strengthen her custody odds.”

  “Even if she was only there because of her father?” Of course, Colonel James had hired her. Her father, Sean Drake, was a well-respected CIA legend, and offending him was paramount to offending God. James was far too slick to offend God.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Jake insisted. “She was there. That’s what shows up on paper.”

  Laura groused and fidgeted on her red vinyl seat. “But everyone knows she was an airhead and a drunk, Jake. Even her boss knew it.”

  “She got excellent ratings on every employee review.”

  “Okay,” Laura conceded. “So to stay in Sean Drake’s good graces, Colonel James covered for her. But, over the years, she’s pulled a respectable succession of crazy stunts. They can be verified and testified to, and that would have to strengthen our case.”

  Jake mulled that over, and after Laura swallowed her last bite of sesame chicken, she interrupted his ponderings to remind him of the bottom line. “We have to do everything possible to never leave Timmy vulnerable to her,” Laura insisted. “We have to, Jake, because otherwise only God knows the damage she could do.”

  Timmy could not be an outsider.

  Two

  Two years later

  Cheese dripped from the tines of Timmy’s fork. “What if Judge Neal asks me why Mom’s got an apartment and only lives with us some of the time?”

  Swallowing a bite of hot lasagna, Laura waited for Jake’s answer. After two near-misses at getting this adoption through, and two times of surviving Madeline sobering up and withdrawing her consent, they were all worried about the court hearing with Judge Neal tomorrow. And reassuring Timmy, when feeling unsure herself, wasn’t the easiest thing in the world for Laura to do. So much could go wrong.

  Jake put down his fork, then wiped at his mouth with his napkin. “The judge isn’t going to ask you that, son.”

  “How do you know? He could.”

  “Because I know,” Jake insisted. He set the napkin down on the light oak table and let his gaze wander over to the lacy white curtains on the back door’s window.

  Laura couldn’t get upset about Jake’s terse response. They’d been at this “what if” business the entire time they’d cooked dinner and all during the eating of it. Everyone’s nerves had worn thin.

  Timmy stabbed a green bean with his fork. “What if Judg
e Neal asks me how come my mom and dad don’t sleep in the same room? All my friends’ moms and dads do. He could ask me that.” Concern and curiosity burned in Timmy’s eyes. “What am I supposed to tell him?”

  “Tell him your father snores,” Laura suggested, insinuating a mischievous lilt in her voice in an attempt to ease Timmy’s concerns and to diminish his curiosity. She hated seeing him worried—no nine-year-old should be under this kind of pressure—and she hated even more him seeing himself as different from his friends. She remembered how awkward being different had made her feel. While she and Jake tried to minimize those things for Timmy, their situation was different, and that was the simple, unavoidable truth.

  “Dad snores?” Timmy grinned.

  “Loudly.” She winked at him. “Now stop worrying, Tiger. Your dad and I will be there with you when you talk with Judge Neal. Everything will be just fine.”

  “But—”

  “It’ll be fine, Timmy.” Laura too had wearied of the worry, and she still had to tell Jake that Intel had reactivated her as a communications consultant on Operation Shadowpoint. Lousy timing, with court tomorrow, and the news would surely go over with Jake about as well as a lead balloon.

  What exactly the operation was, she had no idea, and she had no need to know. She rarely did know the mission on these consultations, which were growing less frequent because more trainees now had the required expertise. Still, times arose when an expert was needed, and during those times, Intel would temporarily activate her to do the consult. She was also subject to recall as an active duty military officer, though the odds of the Air Force recalling her were slim, unless the United States got involved in yet another war. Most Intel consults took only a couple of hours to clear. Some, a few days. So far, none had kept her activated longer than that.

  On Shadowpoint, she’d been asked to identify and eliminate the reason for a communications breakdown between Home Base and three operatives in the field. She had to admit that she enjoyed feeling the adrenaline rush again. It had been a while, thanks to Sean Drake. If not for Madeline’s father’s resentment of Laura’s friendship with Jake, she would still be an active duty military officer working on her communications designs full-time and a full-time communications consultant for Intel. Drake had threatened to destroy her career, with an assist from her research funder, Colonel James. Deactivating in Intel and leaving the military was the only way Laura could stop them. So she had. Now, she was a civil service employee attached to the Publicity Office who did her communications research and development designs quietly—actually, covertly—on the side, and she assisted Intel when her expertise was needed. It wasn’t a perfect situation, or what she’d wanted but, under the circumstances, it was the best she could do.