Passionate Kisses

by Various

  “You did bring her, didn’t you?” Jordan glanced back at her.

  “No, Jordan. Can we go inside to talk about this?”

  He turned toward her then, sadness written all over his face, from his lips to the souls of his brown eyes. “But…I want…to meet her, Chelsea.” He walked back up the steps and put his strong hand

  on her forearm. “There’s so much I want to know. Why didn’t you bring her with you? How old is she now? Ten?”

  “Almost ten. Can we go inside, Jordan?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  She marveled at the interior of the home. Jordan sure had done well for himself. They walked through the foyer and into the formal living room decorated in black and white. A white set of couches were in one corner with a black coffee table in front of them. Some magazines sat on the table, along with a vase of silk flowers. A throw rug had a zebra print. He must have had a decorator.

  “It looks great in here.”

  “I did it myself,” he said as if he had been reading her thoughts. The words weren’t egotistical or harsh. They were flat, emotionless, as if the words were meant for a stranger he would never see again. “Sit down.”

  Is that what she’d become to him? A stranger? Exactly—a stranger from his past. Would it make it all easier? She didn’t know, but the thought of being a stranger to Jordan unnerved her. “You have talent.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  She perched on the edge of one of his couches. Her nerves were shot and she needed to be prepared to dart out the front door at any moment. Her stomach tied into a knot, knowing the time had come to tell him about the baby. The baby had been conceived in love, but born into heartache.

  He didn’t sit down. Once in a while he would walk over to the other couch and place his hand on the back of the white fabric, but he would only pause there, then turn again and walk over to the fireplace, keeping his back to her.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He had his back to her again and she hoped he didn’t turn around. She didn’t want to look into his eyes, to see or feel the pain she’d caused him for so many years. The pain still haunted him. It haunted her also. As long as she didn’t see Jordan’s pain, she could believe everything was fine.

  “I know. I am too.” He put his hand up to his face. With his back turned to her, she couldn’t see what he was doing. Please don’t cry.

  “What are you sorry for?”

  “For making you think you had to leave,” he whispered.

  “Oh, Jordan.” She walked over to him and put her hand on his bare back.

  “I’m so very sorry, Chelsea. I’ve been sorry for ten years.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong.” She brought her hand to her chest. “I was ashamed.”

  “Ashamed?” He turned toward her. “Of what?”

  “Not of you.” She wiped the tears from his tanned cheeks and soon found hers flowing along with his.

  He bent to wrap his arms around her waist. “Then what? Please tell me, Chelsea. I have to know.”

  She wanted to look away, to break the intense stare of his brown eyes. They were drowning her and she needed to come up for air. “Because of the baby.”

  He pulled her against him. “Why?” he whispered, barely audible due to his mouth being buried in her hair.

  “Everyone thought the Montgomery girls were no good and I wanted to be more than pregnant.” She spat the word. “With the pregnancy confirmed, I couldn’t face anyone, so I left.”

  “I could’ve fixed it back then but now’s my chance. I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I…am, too,” she stammered.

  “I never stopped loving you, Chelsea.” He tilted her face to look in her eyes. Before she could respond, his lips met hers and guided hers open. Once she felt his tongue, she pulled away. It was her turn to put her back to him.

  “No, Jordan. There’s more.” She dropped down on the couch and leaned back as if one kiss had sucked the life from her.

  “I should never have kissed you. Not right now anyway.”

  “Sit down, Jordan. I need to tell you something.”

  To her surprise, he sat down next to her on the couch. She shifted in order to face him. He deserved as much. Then he grabbed her hands with his. “Tell me everything. What’s life like for you and our child? What’s her name?”

  “Elizabeth.”

  “When are you going to bring her home?”

  “Home?”

  “Yes, to me. You and Elizabeth need to come home. Now I know about her, I want us to be a family. When can I meet her?”

  She sucked in her breath. Now or never. “Jordan, we’re not coming home,” she whispered.

  He dropped her hand. “What? Why the hell not?” He stood up and paced the room. Did he realize she didn’t want to hurt him? “Because… I don’t…uh…”

  “You don’t what, Chelsea?”

  “I don’t have her anymore.” She held her breath again and waited for his explosion. The hardest part had arrived, and maybe he would accept it.

  Jordan walked over and sat by her on the couch again. “I see.”

  He shifted his body on the couch so he could face her. “I want to know everything about your life after you left here. Start

  from the beginning. Tell me everything.”

  “That’s fair.”

  She thought back to the moment she’d held the little white stick with the two lines. Panic had risen in her as she sat on the toilet lid. Her sisters had pounded on the locked bathroom door as tears rolled down her face. How’d this happen? Now she was what everyone expected. Just like her sisters.

  She’d sat in the drab bathroom for over an hour with the little stick held in her hand while tears continued to fall. She couldn’t look away and ignored the frequent pounding of her sisters’ fists. How would she face everyone? How could she and Jordan raise a baby since neither of them was even out of high school yet? Her sadness quickly turned to anxiety.

  She dropped the pregnancy test in the trash. The thin test slid down to the bottom of the small trash can, underneath the empty toilet paper rolls, invisible. When she flung open the bathroom door, Allison and Danielle stood in the hallway with their hands on their hips. She pushed past them and ran to her room.

  She had to work that night and an instant plan popped into place. She’d leave early and end up wherever the bus stopped along the route to some random destination. With no family connections

  outside of Wilson, nobody would be able to find her.

  “Chelsea?” Jordan asked, bringing her back to the conversation.

  “How did you find out about Elizabeth? Everything had been set up to be untraceable.”

  “The sheriff talked to someone at the health clinic in Harrisburg where you stopped. That’s when they called off the search.” And then to probably change the subject, Jordan said, “Portland is a beautiful city.”

  “When did you go there?”

  “Two years ago.”

  “With Bailey?” The words slipped out. She hadn’t meant to say them. The hurt in his eyes made her flinch back. Her hand flew up to her mouth as if she could really take them back.

  “This isn’t about Bailey,” snapped Jordan, “and I will not talk to you about Bailey.”

  “Okay, fine,” she whispered and ran her fingers through her hair. “I don’t blame you for not talking to me about her.” How many lives had she screwed up by her actions? Jordan’s had been in more ways than one.

  “So what happened then? Once you got there?” he asked, urging her to continue.

  “Not knowing anyone and with no place to go, I knew I couldn’t stay in Boise. Then Monique and Zack Markales found me.”

  “Who are they?” To her relief, he walked into the kitchen. It gave her a moment to form the words she wanted to say. This wasn’t easy and the very truth of what she’d done burned around in her heart. He handed her a bottle of water with questions still written on his face. How could she
explain this? Would any explanation she came up with be good enough? She doubted it.

  He went back into the kitchen.

  “I didn’t want her, Jordan,” she whispered when he walked back in carrying a glass of water. She sucked in her breath, waiting for the explosion of emotion from Jordan.

  “It’s okay. I wouldn’t have wanted you to get pregnant at that time in our lives, either.”

  She searched his face for any sign of the truth. His eyes drew her into the two pools of sadness. Were they a reflection of the feelings in his heart? He needs to know, so tell him the rest.

  “The couple paid for everything, even my own hotel room, on our trip back to Portland. When we got there, she told me not to worry about getting medical. I started seeing the midwife

  a week later.”

  “Sounds like they really took care of you.”

  She looked away from him. “I knew it wouldn’t last so I started looking at all of my options.”

  She touched her chest above her heart. “You need to understand I loved her, even though I didn’t want her.”

  “I do.” He reached out to her and grabbed her hand in both of his.

  “I’d been there about two months when they came to me. They explained they wanted to adopt a baby since Monique couldn’t conceive. She mentioned why she loved her husband. It was the same reason why I loved you and I knew they were the family who’d adopt Elizabeth.”

  “How were able to you do that? They would’ve needed me to sign the adoption papers. I don’t understand how you managed this.”

  “I said I didn’t know who the father was.” The words came out

  in a rush.

  He dropped her hand and jumped up from the couch, ran his fingers through his curly hair and kept his back to her as he paced the length of the room. She hadn’t even gotten to the bad part.

  “I moved into their guest house. Two days later, they made me an offer.” Scared to look at him but yet, she couldn’t keep her eyes away from the sight of the man.

  “What kind of offer?”

  “Jordan, to prevent me from changing my mind they offered me money to buy her.” There. The words were out. He could do what he wanted with them. Grab them, hold them in his heart,

  and be angry, or let them go. She would accept whatever he wanted, and the outcome. God, she’d been so alone, so scared, and broke. Nobody had been willing to help her. What other choice had there been? When the Markales made the offer, they’d assured her money changed hands often in adoptions so the birth mother didn’t change her mind. It wasn’t until later that she’d realized what she’d actually done. Much later and too late.

  “What?” He stopped and swung around to face her. All of the color had drained from his face.

  “I sold her.”

  Chapter 4

  Allison paced the worn carpet. Chelsea was back. Why in the hell had she come back after being gone for so long? Allison could spit nails. Mad at first that Chelsea hadn’t come to them before Jordan, she’d quickly realized it was probably better after all. With the way she felt, it was a good choice for Chelsea to stay the hell away from her home.

  Danielle walked into the living room, looking around for her kids, but one look at her and she froze in place. “Allison?”

  Allison stalked across the floor again and kicked the toy box on the way. Various dolls and play cars flung across the living room. A giant roach flipped against the wall. “Why the hell did she come back?”

  “Because this is her home? We’re her family?”

  “Bullshit. This was her home before she left.”

  Danielle’s hand settled on her shoulder. “Maybe she’s sorry.”

  She jerked free. “I don’t buy it for a minute. There’s a reason.”

  Allison looked around the cramped room and wondered why her little sister had left in the first place. Sure the place was well

  worn, but they grew up in this house. Their mother had worked to keep a roof over their heads. It hadn’t been easy, but she had. Chelsea pretending to be abducted had been the thanks they received. She was supposed to be better than all of them.

  “Whatever the reason is, we should fine out. Maybe you should talk—”

  Allison swung around to face Danielle with fire in her eyes. “Don’t you dare say it. I won’t have anything to do with her.”

  Danielle took a step backward. “I think—”

  “I don’t give a shit what you think about Chelsea, Dani. We helped search the desert looking for her. Don’t you remember? Having the fear of seeing her dead body? Staying up crying at night

  because we thought our sister had been abducted when we weren’t able to find her body? And now she’s back. She went straight to Jordan, not us.” She swiped the tears from the corner of her eyes

  and shot a glare at her older sister. “She’s dead as far as I’m concerned.”

  * * * *

  “You sold her?” he yelled. “You sold our baby?”

  “Yes.”

  “How much?” He spat the words out as if they were made of vinegar.

  “Ten thousand dollars, plus living expenses during my pregnancy. I paid for my schooling.”

  “It doesn’t matter one damned bit what you used the money for,” he said and went to the door. “I don’t want to hear anymore.”

  She stood up. “I can leave now if you want.” The room seemed to be closing in, suffocating her. His scent swam around her, the things he touched were everywhere she looked, his presence

  unnerved her. The temptation to run boiled in her. Anywhere would be better than feeling the heat of the situation. Jordan’s furious stare was unbearable. She moved toward the door, but the strong palm of Jordan’s hand on her chest stopped her.

  “You’re not going anywhere.” He demanded, “Stay here until I get back.” The door slammed behind him.

  * * * *

  Jordan tore out of the house and down the stairs like a rocket. He usually only went jogging in the morning but he couldn’t stand being around her for one more second.

  After a short pause at his truck for his sunglasses, he took off down the street. Lisa called over to him, but being in no mood to talk he tossed a wave in her direction.

  Sweat trickled down his face and dropped onto his chest by the time he reached the next corner. He must be crazy for jogging when it was shy of a hundred degrees out and wearing jeans. He should’ve changed first. But he didn’t have the time. If he would have taken one more glance in Chelsea’s direction, he’d have thrown her out on her ass. Or he would have ravished her right there on the loveseat…

  or the floor. Or maybe on the ground outside after he had thrown her out. Either way, he walked a fine line between loving and hating Chelsea, and was in no condition to be around her. Part of him hoped she would be gone when he got back. But he was drawn to Chelsea like a jackrabbit to a drink of water.

  He continued down Main Street at a steady pace and remained absorbed in the thoughts of her. Damn, Chelsea was really back.

  Even with her rumpled clothes and messy hair, she still looked beautiful. It took a lot of nerve for her to come to him. It would take a lot of strength for her to play the next hand he’d deal her. Even though his idea wasn’t to get even with Chelsea, it felt like revenge anyway.

  He had designed the house for her. The house had been built for Chelsea and the street had been partially named after her. He had even waited for her, but never really believed she would return. That red-headed beauty was actually back in his life but with news. She’d sold his baby girl. His heart tightened in his chest.

  He ran faster. He wanted to run until his legs hurt so bad he couldn’t feel his broken heart.

  * * * *

  She dropped down onto the couch. Tears rushed down her cheeks. At first, she tried to push them away to stop them from falling, but soon gave up. Who cared if she cried? She had a lot to cry over. Jordan would probably be showing up any minute with the police to arrest her. The truck was
still outside, but who knew how far the sheriff station was. Maybe he went over to Lisa’s house to

  call them. In any case, she faced the impending doom of some sort of legal action in her near future.

  The thought of it scared the hell out of the woman who had never had a speeding ticket in her life.

  “I should have gotten a hotel room and showered before coming here.” She tried to run her fingers through her hair, but they got stuck in the mass of tangles. Her mug shot photo would be horrendous.

  Jordan’s pain was worse than her own. Tears continued to fall as she thought about the man she loved—still loved, and she’d hurt him. Leaving her shoes on, she slid her legs up onto the sofa. Did Jordan ever relax in this room? On this couch, or one of those unused rooms wealthy people had? Her head rested on the arm of the couch while tears continued to fall, making a wet spot underneath her face. Before she knew it, her eyes drifted shut. Other faces formed themselves in her mind instead of Jordan’s.

  She had been huge. If she hadn’t had the ultrasound, she’d have thought she’d give birth to a set of twins. Zach’s sister, who had been Chelsea’s midwife, had shown her the baby’s fingers, toes, and every other adorable part of the baby’s body on the screen. It was a moment she would never forget. Even though she’d tried to look away, the baby girl on the monitor had been amazing.

  After the ultrasound, the Markales went through their day with a joyful cloud around them. Monique brought home a house full of pink baby things, and had Chelsea help paint the nursery while Zack walked around with lists of baby girl names they had compiled from various name books and websites. They had become loving and doting parents already.

  She wanted to be excited for them, but wasn’t. Would the baby have her features, or Jordan’s? Maybe a combination of both of them. During this time in her pregnancy, she had been in college

  and studied hard in order to put the regrets out of her mind. She’d decided to not even look at the baby at the time of birth. It would make walking away a whole lot easier.