by Debbie Mason
Swallowing hard, she forced her eyes to remain on his face. “Would you like a cup of tea?” She cringed. She sounded like she was entertaining the Queen of England.
“No. I want to get this settled once and for all.” The underlying tension in his voice made her nervous. She realized then that she’d been hoping he had a perfectly reasonable explanation. Like Maria was a very demonstrative woman and had thrown herself at him. And of course he cared for her, in the same way he cared about the other members of his crew.
He laced his fingers through hers and gently caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. “I love you, Grace, and the last thing I want to do is hurt you.”
She heard the “but” and felt sick. “I know that.” She forced the words from her dry throat. He smiled, a tender smile, just like the one he’d given…
“Don’t blame Maria for today. It was my fault.” He bowed his head, gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and blew out a breath. “Jesus, this is hard.” He raised his gaze to hers. “Grace, I didn’t tell you what happened between me and Maria right away because, as soon as I found out about you and little Jack, it didn’t matter. And once I got my memory back, other than wishing it hadn’t happened, it meant nothing to me. But it did to Maria.”
She slowly withdrew her hand from his. “What happened?”
Another deep inhalation expanded his chest. “While we were held captive, we got close. We kissed a couple of times. When we escaped and were on the run…” He speared his fingers through his damp hair. “We didn’t have sex, but we, ah, we came close.”
She took small, shallow breaths to ease the tightness in her chest. When she was finally able to speak, she said, “I see.”
“No, you don’t. Look at me.” He grasped her chin between his fingers, forcing her gaze to his. Whatever he saw in her eyes made him groan and take her in his arms. “I didn’t remember you, princess. I didn’t remember us. If I had, nothing would’ve happened. You gotta believe that.”
She held herself stiff in his warm embrace. There was a question on her lips, a question she was afraid she knew the answer to, but had to ask. “If you didn’t get your memory back, would you be with her now?”
He moved his hands to her shoulders and drew back to look at her. “I’m here. When I found out I was married and had a son, I came here.”
“But you would, wouldn’t you? You’re an honorable man. You always do what’s expected of you. But what if you hadn’t gotten your memory back, what then? Were you going to stay with us?” She saw the answer in his eyes and nodded even as her heart crumpled in her chest. “I see.”
He shook her as though desperate to make her understand. “I remember us. I remember you. You’re the only woman I have ever loved. The only woman I want to be with.”
“Have you ever wondered why you forgot me?”
“I had a fuc… I had a head injury, Grace. Don’t read anything more into it than that.”
“If it were you, wouldn’t you wonder?”
“Okay, maybe it was because my wife told me if I walked out the door, we were done. She wanted a divorce. Maybe that’s what I wanted to forget. And maybe I wanted to forget about losing Charlie when I was home instead of in the pilot’s seat. Forget about you moving to Christmas when you knew I didn’t want to. Forget about not being able to do anything right when I came back. Forget about Libby… Or have you thought about this: maybe I had to put the two people I loved more than anything in this world out of my head just to survive.” Electric-blue eyes hot with temper speared her. “But in the end, none of it matters. I’m home now. What you saw today doesn’t matter. Maria shouldn’t have kissed me, but I should’ve gotten in touch with her and made it clear that whatever she thought we had was over. She knows that now.”
“But what about you, are you sure you want it to be over?”
He put his face in his hands and shook his head before looking at her. “How many times do I have to tell you I love you before you believe me?”
“I know you do. But sometimes love’s not enough. I need you to be sure. A few days ago you—”
He held up a hand. “No, I never once told Maria I loved her. And before you ask, no, dammit, I did not and do not love her.” He hauled her onto his lap and buried his face in her neck. “I wish we could turn the clock back and ask for a do-over, but we can’t.”
She stroked his damp hair. “I wish we could, too.”
He lifted his head. “Are we good?”
Were they? It was a lot to take in. To know how close he and Maria had been. Yet even knowing that didn’t change how much Grace loved him, but…
A cell buzzed. It was Jack’s. He averted his gaze from hers and gently eased her from his lap. “It’s probably Maria. A truck backfired on the street. She had a flashback and went down. I’m worried about her, Grace. She’s at the hospital and doesn’t know anyone here. You understand why I have to take her call, right? I just need to make sure she’s okay.”
She understood how Jack would feel it was his duty to look out for the woman. But after what he’d revealed about their relationship, after what had happened today, did he really expect Grace to be okay with him taking her call?
He pulled his phone from his jeans pocket. “Hey, Maria, can you hang on a minute? Grace?” he said as she stiffly got up from the bed.
“It’s fine, Jack,” she said wearily and left the room.
A few minutes later, as she swept up the broken glass, he came into little Jack’s bedroom.
He searched her face, then took the broom from her. “Let me do that.”
She didn’t have the energy to argue and went to sit on the narrow cot.
He frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she said, and the furrows in his brow deepened.
“Are you worried about little Jack? I can go get him now if you want. Gage offered—”
“No.” She had to say what was on her mind before she lost her nerve. “Jack,” she cleared her throat, “I think it might be best if you stayed with Jill for a while.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Is this because I took the call from Maria? Because if—”
That was part of it. “No, of course not.” She wrung her hands in her lap, trying to find the words to make him understand. “We’ve been separated for a long time. We’ve changed. I need to be sure you’re not staying out of a misplaced sense of duty.” Like the way my father stays with my mother. She held up her hand when he went to interrupt her. “We’ve had a lot to deal with in a few short days. You especially. Little Jack, too.”
A muscle pulsed in his clenched jaw, his eyes a glacial, furious blue. “Are you having second thoughts about us?”
“No, my feelings for you haven’t changed. I love you, and I want us to be together. I just thought…” She trailed off as he slammed the broom against the wall.
“That’s what you want, Grace? Okay, you got it,” he said and headed from the room.
She followed after him, trying to keep up with his long, angry strides. He flung open the front door and grabbed his duffel bag off the landing, then pivoted to face her. His mouth twisted in a grim smile. “This feels real familiar.”
She gave an empathetic shake of her head and went to him. “No, it’s not the same.” Rising up on the tips of her toes, she wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed him deeply, passionately. For several terrifying beats of her heart, he held himself stiffly erect. Then she heard the thud of his bag hitting the floor, and he gathered her in his arms, kissing her back with as much desire and emotion as she kissed him.
When he drew away, his breathing was ragged. “I don’t like leaving you alone.”
“We’ll be fine.” She touched his cheek and forced a smile. “This will be good for us, Jack. It’ll be like starting over with a clean slate. We can date.”
His gaze narrowed. “You want us to date other people?”
“No, I meant each other. Did… did you want us to date other people?”
He picked up his bag. “If you have to ask, we’re in bigger trouble than I thought. I’ll call you later. We have the interview in the morning. Unless you’ve changed your mind about that, too.”
“No, I haven’t changed my mind about you, us, or the interview.”
He held her gaze for a brief moment, then headed down the stairs. She watched him leave. He didn’t look back. Her heart hurt. Jack was right; it felt all too familiar. Closing the apartment door, she leaned against it, praying she hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of her life.
Chapter Fourteen
Jack waited impatiently for Grace to open the door. The least she could’ve done was give him a key yesterday when she kicked him out. It was his apartment as much as it was hers. What the hell had he been thinking giving in to her asinine suggestion? He never should’ve left. As soon as she’d voiced the idea, he should’ve shot it down. But he’d been in shock, feeling guilty after revealing the extent of his relationship with Maria.
He hadn’t been the only one who’d been furious Grace had asked him to leave. Jill had been livid when he’d arrived at her door with his duffel bag in hand. He’d ended up on the defensive, protecting Grace from his sister’s anger. He made Jill think he was on board with it. She didn’t need another excuse to lay into his wife. It hadn’t been easy playing it cool, acting as if he wasn’t as pissed off with Grace as his sister was. The run he’d taken last night and again at dawn had helped deal with his anger. The frustration and, as much as it pained him to admit, hurt, weren’t so easy to get rid of.
Suck it up, Flaherty, and deal.
In the end, it was his fault it’d come down to this. He had to make it right. For now, he’d do as Grace asked. She wanted to start with a clean slate. All the better. She wanted to date. He could do that, too. How hard could it be to win back a woman who loved him, who’d never given up on him? Jack grinned as he thought of ways to “woo” his wife. Maybe he’d borrow that book from Nell after all.
He always felt better when he had a plan, a strategy to go into battle, even if this time the fight was to save his marriage. The heavy weight that had rested on his shoulders since yesterday lifted. He rapped on the door for the second time—just not as hard as a couple of minutes ago.
“Sorry,” said a breathless Grace as she opened the door, carrying a naked little Jack under her arm. “Your son decided he’s not wearing a diaper today and flushed it down the toilet before I could stop him.”
“How come he’s my son when he does something wrong?” Jack teased as he closed the door behind him. His humor faded when he took a closer look at Grace. There were shadows under her eyes, and her usual peaches-and-cream complexion was a pasty gray. She looked like she hadn’t slept. Jack could commiserate. He hadn’t slept much last night, either. “Here”—he held out his arms for his son—“we’ll take care of it for you.”
“Thanks, but I already did. I’ve gotten really good at fixing clogged toilets.” She glanced at her wet robe and gave him a tired smile. Little Jack squirmed in her arms, and she put him on the floor.
It shouldn’t bother Jack that she could handle things without him, but it did. And it bothered him that she hadn’t handed over his son like he’d asked. He didn’t say anything. Now wasn’t the time to be making waves.
“Stay…” Little Jack took off, and Grace released a weary sigh as his naked white body disappeared from view. “There’s coffee in the kitchen. Muffins, too, if you’d like some,” she said and went to give chase.
“I’m not a guest, Grace. If I need something, I’ll get it.”
She turned, worrying the neckline of her robe between her fingers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” A crash from the back of the apartment cut her off.
Jack jogged past her. “I’ve got it. Get dressed. Interview’s in fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes?”
He heard the squeak of panic in her voice and went to respond. Then he saw his son, sitting on the floor in his bedroom, shaking baby powder over himself. The kid must’ve climbed onto the table—the lamp was lying on the floor—to get the powder off the shelf. “Whoa, buddy, you’re in trouble now.”
“No, me…” His son started to choke. Jack opened his mouth to call for Grace, then shut it. What are you, a wuss? he asked himself. You can handle this. As soon as Jack took the container from him, the kid stopped choking and started screaming. Jack went to cover his son’s mouth with his hand.
“What’s wrong?” Grace called from their bedroom.
Jack handed him the baby powder. “Nothing.”
His son beamed up at him. Smart kid. Pretty damn cute, too, he thought with a grin. Five minutes later, Jack was rethinking the cute part. His son was a terror. He eyed Jack’s fingers as he fought with the tiny buttons on the short-sleeved plaid shirt he’d put him in. “Don’t bite me again or I’ll bite you back,” he warned his son.
“Jack,” Grace gasped as she entered the room.
“Thanks a lot, kid,” he muttered.
She took in the mess and came to kneel beside Jack on the floor. Nudging his fingers aside, she took over. “You weren’t really going to bite him, were you?”
“No, Grace, I wasn’t.” His irritation faded as he watched her with their son, as her warm body brushed against his, and he inhaled her floral scent. “But I might bite you. You smell good.”
She shook her head, but a small, encouraging smile played on her lips. “No fooling around. We don’t have time.”
“I’ll cancel the interview.”
“Honestly, Jack, you’re incorrigible.”
“No, just a guy who wants to spend some time with his wife.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “I missed you last night.”
She leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I missed you, too.”
Scowling at them, little Jack put his hands on his hips. “No kiss my mama.”
“Hey, she kissed me.”
Grace tugged little Jack into her arms and kissed his mouth, his nose, and his eyes. “Four kisses for you.” She turned to Jack and cupped his face between her soft hands. He was ready for her when she reached his mouth and gave her a kiss she wouldn’t soon forget. “And four kisses for daddy,” she said breathlessly.
Little Jack looked from his mother to his father, then picked up the empty powder container. “All gone.”
Jack smiled, inordinately pleased over the small victory. “I think we should try that again, just to be sure it worked.”
“I don’t think so.” Grace laughed. “Interview, remember?”
“It was worth a try.” He came to his feet and helped her up.
Gathering little Jack into her arms, Grace brushed off some leftover powder from his hair, then did the same for Jack. “Do you want to come to dinner tonight?”
“Hmm, dinner with you and little Jack or dinner with my sister? It’s a tough decision.”
She winced.
“I’m kidding. I have to work on the house on Sugar Plum Lane after the interview.” And wasn’t that going to be fun times. “I’ll be here around six, if that’s okay.”
“No, no, that’s good. It’s just when you mentioned Jill…” She shrugged, redoing the top button on little Jack’s shirt. “I imagine she’s pretty mad at me right now.”
“She’ll get over it.” He glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall and placed his hand at the small of Grace’s back. “We better get going. The reporter will be arriving at the bakery any time now.”
She stopped in her tracks and looked up at him. “Bakery? I thought you said the interview was here. I…” Her gaze flitted around the room.
“Didn’t Madison tell you?” She shook her head. “Sorry, I thought she did. She called last night to suggest we have the interview at the bakery. She thought it’d be good publicity.”
Madison had assured him Grace would be happy with the change of venue, so he agreed. But now that he took in the spotless apartment, a hint of lemon oil in the air, he re
alized his wife had probably spent hours making sure everything was perfect.
“You cleaned all night, didn’t you? And don’t try and deny it, you look exhausted.” The words were out of his mouth before he could take them back.
Her hand went to her cheek, and her gaze shot to his. “Do I look that bad?” Before he could respond, she passed him their son. “I’ll just be a minute. I’ll put on some blush, maybe some cover-up, too. I’ll never hear the end of it from my mother if I don’t,” she muttered, more to herself than to him, as she speed-walked to the bedroom.
By the time she’d fixed herself up and changed into the yellow dress she’d worn to his homecoming, a strand of pearls at her neck, they were ten minutes late. Grace locked the door, and Jack ushered his family down the stairs. As they stepped onto the sidewalk, Grace turned to him.
“Jack?”
“Um-hmm,” he said, distracted by the number of white news vans parked outside the bakery. What the hell was going on? He’d agreed to do the interview with one reporter only.
“Jack.” She tugged on his arm to regain his attention and leaned into him. “No one knows we’re not living together, do they?”
“No.” And he planned to keep it that way. He made his sister promise to keep the news to herself. He didn’t want Maria to find out. If she did, he had a feeling she wouldn’t leave.
“Okay, that’s good.”
“Yeah, it is. Because, Mrs. Flaherty, I plan to be back home with you before the week is out. And you know I’m very good at getting what I want.”
He took comfort in the half smile she gave him. At least she didn’t say no.
As they walked into the bakery, which was jam-packed with customers, cameramen, and reporters, Grace groaned. Madison McBride stood beside a woman with long, curly butterscotch hair, who wore a pair of denim shorts, a “Save the Planet” T-shirt, and hiker boots. “Set up your cameras over here. You’ll get a great shot of the bakery that way,” Madison said, catching sight of Jack and Grace. She waved them over. “Here they are now.”
