by Robyn Grady
From behind, he heard footfalls sounding on the polished wooden floor. As he stared at his father, he heard Cole exclaim, “Eloise’s water just broke. Dad, she’s having the baby.”
Twelve
Grace was headed downstairs when she heard a commotion. A woman was crying out as if she were in pain. Grace clutched the rail. What the hell was going on? Had that maniac stalker somehow struck again?
Below her in the vast foyer, Teagan appeared. Wynn’s sister was helping Eloise to the front door. The older woman supported the weight of her big belly with both hands. Her stance was stooped and the grimace on the beautifully made-up face pointed to only one thing.
Grace fled down the stairs. She had not expected to be around for this. Wynn would want to stay longer now. It wasn’t every day a person got to meet their new little brother or sister.
“Is there anything I can do?” Grace asked as she reached Teagan.
At that moment, Cole appeared. Rushing up, he let them know, “I just told Dad. He’s on his way.”
Eloise groaned, a guttural, involuntary, in-labor sound. “Oh, God. We need to hurry.” After another grimace, she started to pant.
“You’ll be fine,” Teagan told her. “Just try to relax. And nice deep breaths.”
“I’ll bring the car up,” Cole said, flinging open one half of the double doors. “And where the hell is Dex?”
Suddenly Guthrie was there. The older man’s expression was harried but not excited. His pallor, his shuffling gait...Wynn’s father looked almost stricken. Wynn, who was coming up behind him, didn’t look much better.
As Guthrie and Teagan escorted poor ambling Eloise out the door, Grace crossed over to Wynn. Worried, she cupped his bristled cheek.
“You look like you’re ready to collapse.”
He waited until everyone else was out the door, out of earshot, before he replied in a gravelly voice.
“I spoke with my father.”
About the merger deal. “Guess he took the news badly.”
Under her palm, a muscle in his jaw flexed twice. “He already knew.”
Confused, she shook her head. “How?”
“And now he knows something else,” Wynn muttered before wincing and rubbing his brow as if massaging the mother of all headaches. “I’m the world’s biggest ass. I should have kept my freaking mouth shut,” he groaned, clamping his eyes shut.
Grace tried to make sense of what he was saying but couldn’t. “Wynn, Eloise is having the baby. You’re going to be a brother again very soon.”
He was shaking his head as if he wanted to block something out. Either they were staying or returning to New York. But if they were going to make that flight, they needed to think about getting to the airport.
“I opened my stupid mouth and now—” Resigned, he exhaled and shrugged his broad shoulders. “Guess now I have to live with it.”
Grace’s heart was thumping high in her chest. “Wynn, please tell me what you’re talking about.”
His gaze—vacant and resigned now—met hers. He tried to tack up a tired smile. “There’s no point dragging you into all this. You can’t help. No one can.”
As he grabbed her hand and they headed up the stairs, it took Grace all her willpower not to grill him again. But he was right. Whatever had happened between Wynn and his father, she couldn’t help, no matter how much she might like to.
She and Wynn shared a certain spark. Aside from yesterday’s near tragedy, these past days had been fun. But they were two individuals who had agreed to come together for a short time to enjoy a diversion. With bombs going off, things had gotten complicated enough. She shouldn’t expect to get any more involved.
More to the point...Wynn clearly didn’t want her involvement, either.
* * *
Later that evening, as Grace followed Wynn into Eloise’s private hospital suite, she wished she were someplace else.
He’d decided they should stay and cancelled the flights. A couple of hours ago, when they’d received word that Eloise had given birth and both mother and child were doing well, Wynn had seemed less than enthusiastic.
Looking around the hospital suite now, the first thing Grace saw was a big white teddy bear with pink balloons and a sign that read, It’s a Girl. Sitting up in bed, wearing a midnight blue nightgown set, Eloise looked radiant as she gazed down at her sleeping baby, who was wrapped in a pale pink blanket. Despite her complaints about being uncomfortable and “over it,” she obviously adored this child.
While Shelby and Taryn were close enough to sigh over the miniature fingers and that perfect baby face, Wynn’s back remained glued to the wall. Dex looked uncomfortable, too. Guthrie stood on the opposite side of the room by a window, gazing upon the family scene from afar. No smile. Certainly he’d been through a lot these past hours, but Grace couldn’t keep Wynn’s earlier comment from her thoughts.
And now he knows something else.
Before coming to the hospital, she and Wynn, along with Dex and Shelby, had spent a quiet time with Tate. Wynn hadn’t provided any more information about what had transpired between father and son that afternoon. She had vowed not to dig any more than she already had. But this situation, seeing Wynn so distant and cold, was cutting her to the quick.
Eloise was running a gentle fingertip around the baby’s plump cheek. “Isn’t she a honey? In fact, Honey would be a fine name.” She glanced across at her husband. “Guthrie, darlin’, you haven’t had a hold. You know she looks just like you.”
Wynn flinched. Muttering “Excuse me,” he headed out the door.
Grace found him at the far end of the corridor. He seemed oblivious to the activity buzzing around him—nurses checking trays, mothers being wheeled to birthing suites. Gripping the wall behind his back, he looked haunted, as if he’d met a monster from his worst nightmare. She strode up to him.
Wynn wiped a palm down his face. Then, taking her arm, he led her into a small unoccupied waiting room.
Sitting together, he inhaled a fortifying breath.
“I didn’t mean for him to hear,” he began to explain. “I was blowing off steam. He must have followed me out of the study. I had no idea he was coming up behind me.”
Blowing off steam. Grace’s scalp began to tingle. “You mean your father? What did you say, Wynn?
“I said if anyone needed to be spied on, it was his wife.” He angled toward her. “Can’t you guess the reason Cole would rather avoid his beautiful, attention-seeking stepmother?”
When a thought crept in, too vile to contemplate, Grace shivered. She felt too stunned to breathe.
“Are you sure?”
“One holiday here in Australia, Eloise cornered Cole. Dex walked in and witnessed the tail end. Eloise had been trying to kiss Cole, caress him. She’d been drinking....” Wynn shuddered. “I never wanted to believe it. Now my father can’t even look at me, or his wife, or his baby. After keeping it quiet all this time, Cole will be pissed when he finds out that Dad knows. He never wanted to be the bearer of that news. And Tate...”
Cringing, Wynn held his head in his hands. After a long tense moment, he sat back. His expression blistered with contempt.
“If I were Guthrie, I’d want to know. I’d want to know everything, straight up.” He hung his head and then coughed out a humorless laugh. “You’re probably thinking I wanted to give as good as I got.”
That he’d meant to hurt his father through Eloise the same way he’d been hurt by Heather? God, no.
“I think there are times when lines get blurred.”
“Between truth and deception? I’m not that naive.” He found a grin. “Neither are you.”
“I said that sometimes lines blur. Sometimes a person can unintentionally, well, mislead. Mislead themselves.”
He thought ab
out it and finally nodded. “Sure. I’ve convinced myself of things that turned out to be a lie.”
“Me, too.” She pulled down a breath. “The night Sam died,” she said, “he proposed to me.”
Wynn groaned and reached out to squeeze her hand with such tenderness, Grace could barely stand it.
“Wynn...” She swallowed. “I said no.”
Wynn’s expression stilled before doubt faded up to gleam in his eyes. “But...you loved Sam.”
“I did love Sam.” Her throat convulsed. “But more like a friend.”
His brows swooped down. The grip on her hand tightened and then grew slack. “I’m confused.”
“Sam and I dated for years. Everyone expected us to marry one day. I don’t know if we started out in the same place and I grew in another direction, or if I was just too young to understand what I was getting myself into.” Feeling heat burn her cheeks, she took a breath. “One minute we were kids, having fun. The next, people were asking when we were planning our big day.”
Grace waited as the information sank in and Wynn slowly nodded.
“So, you turned Sam down,” Wynn said, “he left, upset I imagine. And you never saw him again.”
He paused and his eyes narrowed. “Did Sam say anything before he went?”
“Like what?”
“Like, I wish I was dead.”
She recoiled. Oh, God. “Don’t say that.”
“But that’s what’s behind this confession, isn’t it? What you’ve been thinking all these months after his accident. That you might have pushed him to it.”
“I couldn’t stop him from charging off,” she explained, “getting in his truck. When I got word of the crash...”
The same raw regrets wound through her mind again. If only I’d told him sooner. If only he hadn’t taken the news so hard. If only I could have loved him the way that he’d loved me.
“I never wanted to hurt Sam.” She hesitated. “I’m not sure that Heather ever wanted to hurt you, either.”
Wynn’s face broke with a sardonic grin. “Hell, that’s part of the attraction here, isn’t it? Part of our bond. Only I didn’t know it until now. Sam’s tortured soul might be gone but I’m still here. You can’t ask Sam just how bad it was, but you can ask me.”
Before she could deny it, or admit he was right, Wynn went on.
“Well, I can tell you that the hours after Heather left me were the worst in my life. Jesus, I didn’t want a life. My world was black, meaningless, and I couldn’t see a way past it. So, if you’re after some kind of absolution from me, I’m sorry, Grace. I just can’t give it.”
A tear spilled down her cheek. Wynn didn’t have to forgive her. She hadn’t expected that he would. The question was: would she ever forgive herself?
“I wish I could go back,” she said. “Somehow make it right.”
“There’s no way back. All we can do is move forward. Call the truth the truth when we see it.” He reached for her hand. “Avoid making the same mistakes.”
Those words seemed to echo in her ears.
“That first night we met again,” he went on after a moment, “we were clear on what we wanted. What we didn’t want.”
Grace remembered. She’d told him, I’m not after a relationship...of any kind.
“I’d always wanted a family of my own,” he said. “When Tate came along, I decided I wanted a kid just like him.” Taking a breath, he seemed to gather himself as he sat up straighter. “I don’t want that anymore. None of it. I don’t want to worry about infidelity or divorce or seeing my children every other weekend. I don’t want permanent. No broken hearts. That’s the God’s honest truth.”
A sound near the door drew their attention. A man walked in. His hair was rumpled like his shirt, but his smile was clear and wide; it spread more when he saw them sitting there.
“Hey, I have a boy!” he exclaimed as if he’d known them for years. “He’s one hundred percent healthy.” The man held his nose, as if he were trying to stem tears of joy. “He even looks like me. Same wing nut ears.”
As the man headed for the coffee machine, Grace noticed someone else standing in the doorway. His head was hanging and a plastic dinosaur lay on its side near his sneakers. As she pushed to her feet, Wynn strode over and swung his little brother up on his hip.
“What are you doing here all by yourself, little man?”
“I ran down.” Tate laid his head on Wynn’s shoulder. “Teagan’s coming.”
A second later, Teagan appeared. She ruffled Tate’s hair. “You’re as fast as a cat, you know that?”
Putting on a brave face, Wynn hitched Tate higher. “Your baby sister’s cute, huh?”
Tate rubbed a finger under his nose. “I guess.”
Teagan dropped a kiss on Tate’s cheek. “Doesn’t mean we won’t all love you just the same.”
When Wynn pressed his lips to his brother’s brow, a rush of emotion filled Grace’s chest. Once he’d wanted a little boy just like Tate, but not anymore. At that wedding in New York, she’d told him that she wasn’t after a relationship. She’d been clear. That had been her truth.
But now...
She didn’t want to worry about infidelity or divorce, either. But one day she did want to get married. One day she wanted a child. A husband and family of her own. And she wanted to be closer to the family she had. She wanted to be near at hand to support Rochelle and April through the hard times ahead. Foremost, she wanted to truly get over the past, not just play at it. She thought she might finally be getting there.
No surprise. As much as that might hurt now, that meant a future without Wynn.
Thirteen
Two days after Eloise gave birth, Grace and Wynn landed back in New York. Wynn said she could stay at his place before she went back to Florida. She kept mum about her decision not to return there for good. Rather she said that she’d stay on with him an extra couple of nights.
He wanted to negotiate and they settled on five nights; after that explosion, they’d cut their stay in Australia short anyway. He’d have to make appearances at the office, he said. But Grace figured, with evenings all their own, five days would be enough for a proper goodbye.
When they arrived from the airport at Wynn’s apartment, Grace headed for the attached bathroom where she ditched her travel clothes and slipped on a bathrobe. A few minutes later, she found Wynn, minus his shirt, standing in the middle of the master suite. He was studying his cell phone as if it might hold some answers.
“That was Cole,” he said, looking up. “Apparently since we left, my father hasn’t come out of his study.”
Grace edged closer. Before leaving for the airport, Wynn had told his brother about his ill-timed slip regarding Eloise. “Does your stepmother know that Guthrie knows?”
“If she doesn’t yet, my guess is she will soon.” With a mirthless grin, Wynn rubbed his jaw. “My father’s not the type to let a conflict go unresolved.”
His young wife had sexually propositioned his oldest son—a humiliating kick in the gut. Guthrie would have suffered a complete loss of faith in Eloise—in his marriage. Still, some relationships could be repaired.
“Do you think they’ll work it out?” she asked.
“Christ, I hope so. For the kids’ sake.”
That brand new baby, Honey, and, of course, Tate. When she and Wynn had left the Hunter mansion, his little brother had clung to Teagan’s hand, a toy dinosaur clamped under his other arm. His chin had wobbled. He’d tried so hard not to cry.
“How’s Tate?” she asked.
“Cole said he’s missing us.”
Missing Wynn. The Hunters didn’t all get together often. Studies had proven that children benefited in so many ways from regular contact with extended family. That situation made her decision
about being closer to her own family not only clearer but also vital. She’d made friends in Florida, in and outside of the practice. But when she’d left New York a year ago, Florida had merely been a means to escape.
She’d licked her wounds long enough. It was time to come home and, perhaps, start up her own practice. Years ago, when she’d decided on her college degree, that was the original plan. But she didn’t want Wynn to think her decision to come home to stay, whenever he found out, had anything to do with him. It didn’t. He’d told her—and in plain terms—he wasn’t after “permanent.” So, no need to further complicate this time together with info that didn’t concern him. Wynn wouldn’t want complications, either.
Now when he lifted her wrist and his mouth brushed the skin, a stream of longing tingled through her system. For these remaining days, she had every intention of acting on that physical desire. Then she would set those feelings aside. It made no sense to hang on to those emotions and fall in love with someone who would never love her back.
His arm wound around her at the same time his lips met hers. He kissed her until she was giddy and kneading his bare chest. By the time his lips left hers, her limbs were limp. This might not be forever but it was real and comforting and, for now, utterly right.
He swung her up into his arms and carried her over to the bed. When they lay naked on the sheet, he kissed her again—lazy and deep. Then his mouth made love to each of her breasts, her belly and then her thighs. She was coiling a leg around his hip, getting ready for his incredible icing on their cake, when he shifted and maneuvered her over onto one side.
The warm ruts of his abdomen met her back at the same time his tongue traveled in a mesmerizing line between her shoulder blades and up one side of her neck. As his palm sailed over her hip toward her navel, then her sex, her heightened physical need rushed to heat her blood. He explored her, delving and stroking until mad desire quivered and twisted inside of her.
Then he moved again, swinging her over. With her straddling him, he shifted her into position, aligned himself, and then thrust up, forcefully enough to send air hissing back through her teeth. Unsteady, she tipped forward, planting both palms on his pecs before his hands gripped her hips and she gave herself over to the heat and magic of his skill.
