Her Lost and Found Baby

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “So...we’re good?” he asked.

  She chuckled.

  “What?”

  “I’m not clear on this,” she said. “We’ve established that you’ve developed an attraction to me, and we’re just going to leave it hanging there, so to speak? Making you...physically uncomfortable on and off throughout the rest of the days we’re in each other’s lives?”

  “I was kind of hoping it would dissipate.”

  “Okay. And if it doesn’t?”

  What the hell did she want from him?

  “I’ve had hard-ons before, Tabitha. I know how to deal with them. It’ll help not having to hide it from you anymore. Seriously, that’ll ease the tension right there.” He thought about sitting forward, making his situation a bit less obvious, but wasn’t quite ready to lose the moment with her.

  Life would be a lot fairer if Tabitha had looked as though she was even a little turned on by the conversation. He had no intention of forcing anything—of using her, in any way, to alleviate his condition. But if, by some miracle, the feelings were mutual...

  “All I meant was...is there something I can do to make things more comfortable? Besides not wearing those jeans again...”

  “It’s not the jeans, Tabitha. They just started it. Now that the awareness is there, it’s there.”

  “So, what do you want from me?”

  The billion-dollar question. He’d promised to be honest with her. But how honest was he supposed to be?

  He raised one shoulder. “You want some more wine?” He held out the bottle, hovering it over her glass, which was almost full. “Come on,” he urged, adding a small amount before moving toward his own, also almost full glass. That distraction had bought him nothing. Not enough time for an answer to occur to him. Or the chance to look unconcerned. Who made a point of refilling full glasses?

  “You ever think about, you know—hooking up?” Probably the worst come-on he’d ever delivered, but he wasn’t seriously intending to come on to Tabitha. She was his partner. His friend. Not a woman he should start something with.

  Their partnership was dissolving in three months and he sensed that Tabitha wasn’t the sort of woman a guy walked away from if he was having sex with her.

  But he reminded himself that he’d never felt passionate enough about anything to find it particularly difficult to walk away. Look how easily he’d left the family business, his home, his parents and family and friends, for an entire year. The same ease with which he’d left every sport he’d excelled at.

  Giving his thoughts free rein while his question hung unanswered between them, Johnny reflected again on the idea of going back to his life. Finding a woman he could start seeing in the interim. Tried on the idea a second time. It didn’t fit any better than it had the other night.

  “We’re being honest here, right?” Tabitha finally asked.

  He couldn’t get any harder, but his body stiffened anyway, in anticipation of what might actually happen...

  “Of course. It’s the only way to run a successful partnership.”

  She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, holding her wineglass. Ran her tongue over her lips, as if she was nervous, and said, “In all honesty, I’m thinking about it now.”

  He had a strong urge to know if this was the first she’d thought of it. Never in his life had Johnny wondered if a woman wanted him. Any woman he’d wanted had made it obvious that his feelings were returned.

  Angel had made no secret of her attraction to him when they were still in high school.

  Angel. He was on her quest and hitting on another woman. Or was he?

  It felt more like taking care of a problem that had cropped up than anything else. Talking about his condition so that he and Tabitha could deal with it together. At least he wouldn’t be secretly lusting after her anymore.

  “And?”

  “The last time I had unconditional sex, it was with a man who turned out to be a kidnapper. I ended up pregnant and lost my son. I’m not eager to go the unconditional route again.”

  The words struck him farther up than his fly. In a way that was new to him. Like he had to get up and slay dragons or something equally preposterous.

  “I hope you know that if you ever need anything, whether we have sex or not, I will be there for you. Always.”

  “You say that now, but our agreement dissolves in three months, Johnny. A little less than that, now. Once you’re back in your regular life, you might not be able to get away—or even want to. You’ll have other responsibilities. Real relationships. Ones that fit your life. This time with me...it’s going to fade for you. And me? I’ll still be right here, living it.”

  She made sense, and that annoyed him. “I can guarantee you that if you ever call me, now or anytime in the future, I will answer.” The conviction behind the words didn’t feel familiar to him, and yet there it was.

  And there they were. There he was, at any rate. So, was she attracted to him or not? She’d never really said, had she?

  He sat forward again—and noticed that his face was now only inches from hers.

  There was one sure way to find out if she was attracted. He looked at her lips. He had to kiss them. To let them tell him what he needed to know.

  “Do you think I’m crazy? I mean about this thing with the Harrises and The Bouncing Ball. With Jason being Jackson.” Thoughts of sex disappeared completely at the expression on her face. Her confidence, her strength, seemed to have faded away.

  “A time or two in the past week I figured I was crazy,” he said with an attempt at a chuckle. “But you? No. Never crossed my mind.”

  Sitting back again, Johnny relaxed against the couch, drinking his wine more slowly as his penis settled down for the night. Tabitha needed to talk. Needed his support.

  He’d promised to give it to her.

  Sometimes life really was that simple.

  Chapter Fourteen

  She had to get to bed. Had to let him get to bed. But Johnny had poured the extra wine. He was sitting there as if he had all night. As if he wanted to be sitting there.

  Lord help her, she wanted it, too. Just to be with him for a little while longer. “Tell me what you honestly think about all of this,” she said. She needed thoughts, other than her own—but thoughts she trusted—rambling around in her mind. Or, at least, added to the mix.

  Johnny might not think she was crazy, but she was driving herself nuts.

  “Define this.” His expression was calm as he laid his head back against the couch and glanced at her.

  Sitting back, too, she said, “The stuff I mentioned before. The Bouncing Ball. Involving the Harrises—” and the real question “—and the chances of Jason being Jackson.”

  “I believe you’re doing what you have to do, Tabitha. And that it would be absolutely wrong if you weren’t doing it. Tragically wrong to stop now, if that’s what you’re considering.”

  “I’m not!” She couldn’t. “I just can’t get out of the mental loop I’m in where Jackson is concerned. I think of him, and his image springs to mind and I’m off listing all the similarities between Jackson and Jason, Mark and Matt. Those similarities are just too close, and there are too many to be coincidental. Then I play devil’s advocate...and then I’m back again, listing all those similarities. It’s...exhausting.” She took a small sip of the wine she knew she wasn’t going to finish and laid her head back, too. It felt good, being so close to him.

  Felt...safe. In a completely nonboring way. She almost chuckled at herself again.

  Turning her head, she looked him in the eye; she was close enough to see the ring of darker blue around the outside of his iris. Cerulean outlined by an almost midnight blue. Someone should make a painting of eyes like that. “If you were the lawyer the Harrises saw this morning, would you have warned them against helping me?”

  �
�Absolutely not.” He was completely serious as he held her gaze.

  “Why not? You said before that it might just be coincidence...”

  “Because as long as there’s a chance that you’re right, if they refuse to even observe him and his father to whatever extent they can, they could be held liable if anything happened to Jason in Matt’s care. It’s a potential lawsuit.”

  That sounded so Johnny. So rational. All head stuff. She depended on that from him. But... “What’s your gut instinct telling you on this one?”

  “I don’t get a lot of strong messages in the way of feelings, you know that,” he told her.

  “Yeah, but you have them. Everybody does. Anyway, I’m not really talking about feelings. I want to know if you genuinely think Jason is Jackson.”

  She was sure of it. And yet, how did that appear from the outside looking in? Was she too involved in her quest? Losing perspective?

  But how could you ever quit looking for your child? Or following up on every possible lead? No matter how small?

  “I think it’s fifty-fifty,” Johnny finally said, his voice a bit sad. “I see the similarities that might or might not be coincidences.” He stared at the wall across from them. “I also see how difficult it would be for Mark to so quickly and successfully start a new life, one that seems solid. Especially living so close by and so soon after the abduction.”

  She saw that, too. “He had a lot of time to plan,” she told him. “Months before Jackson was born. And then a year afterward, too. Other than taking care of his mother, he had nothing to do for the eighteen months he sat alone with her in their home, watching her waste away.”

  Johnny’s head turned in her direction again. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  Her smile felt a little wobbly. “I’m already hurt, Johnny.”

  He nodded slowly, then his gaze lowered, locking on her lips.

  “I hurt so much,” she said softly. “All the time.”

  She’d had too much to drink. She was saying things she’d never, ever expressed aloud.

  “I want to help make the pain go away.”

  “You can help,” she said, looking at his lips. Johnny wanted her. Her Johnny, not the insanely rich corporate-lawyer jet pilot.

  He was so gorgeous. The kind of hot that women went for in droves. And he wanted her.

  Her.

  He brushed some hair off her cheek, leaving a trail of tingles with the warmth of his hand.

  “Help me to not hurt, Johnny.”

  She knew what she was asking. Didn’t care that it wasn’t smart. Or good. That it had no future. This was Johnny.

  His lips seemed to take forever to reach hers. She waited for him. Wanted the moment to last forever. No more pain. No more losing Johnny.

  He was here. Hers. Wanting her.

  His lips landed and sent a shock through her entire body. A slow-moving, sharp and yet warm shock that touched everywhere. His kiss was soft. Not invasive. Adrenaline flooded her; excitement filled her. Without warning, Johnny’s arms were around her, pulling her so close she could feel his heart beat against hers. His tongue was in her mouth; one hand was in her hair, the other on her hip. He kissed as expertly as he did everything else in life and she met him, move for move. Her hands slid under his T-shirt to feel the shoulders and the chest that had drawn her attention the very first time she’d ever seen him. And every day since.

  She wriggled, wanting to feel him lower down, to push her crotch against the hardness he’d shown her earlier, but he managed to keep them chest to chest, their butts still on the couch.

  Tabitha groaned. Impatient. She was giving herself this moment and trying to give him what he needed, too. To ease his discomfort. Because she wanted to in the worst way.

  “Johnny...” She was going to tell him. They had to just do it—before the wine wore off and she had time to think.

  To remember that they’d made no plans concerning birth control. Not a risk she could afford to take.

  And she’d be alone to deal with the emotional consequences of making love with him—and then losing him.

  That thought slowed her down.

  “I know,” he said. “There’s a chance this will hurt you, too.”

  She nodded. Damn it. She didn’t want to be hurt any more. But... “A good chance,” she told him, pulling back. Because while he’d be leaving her to live in a completely different world—one where he was happy, one where he fit—she’d be in the same old place, alone once again.

  Unless she got Jackson back.

  Then she could handle the pain of losing Johnny.

  Would handle it.

  For her son’s sake.

  * * *

  Why had he ever thought he could kiss Tabitha and not pay one hell of a price for doing it?

  Johnny knew the rules. For everything. Made lists of them. Created a load of them. And couldn’t remember a time he’d knowingly broken a single one. Why bother? He’d never been driven to the point of needing to.

  Not even for Angel’s food truck. He’d played completely by the rules. And the venture was proving to be as successful as everything else he’d ever attempted.

  And then there was his partnership with Tabitha. For the first time, he was facing failure. He was failing her. He couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t get it right. And couldn’t figure that out, either.

  On the surface, everything was fine between them. No more awkwardness. But no more closeness, either. They were like two boxers in their respective corners. They circled. They put on a show of shaking hands for the crowd.

  In other words, they worked the truck and raked in the money.

  And for the next two days, they had not one word of personal conversation.

  Wednesday night, after getting back to the suite with takeout, she went into her room with her share—to shower and eat in bed with the TV on, she said. Johnny sat alone on the couch and ate every bite of his.

  Food usually made him feel better.

  Apparently not when it came to failure, though.

  For twenty minutes he sat there staring at her closed door. Thinking about different ways to get her back out. From knocking on her door with numerous excuses to phoning her. Even calling out to her. Immediately dismissing all the options as they presented themselves, he threw away his trash and headed in to shower.

  He ended up at the desk in his room, instead, tablet out and on, stylus in hand, rocking back in the chair to gaze out at the view of the harbor. When answers that were usually present remained elusive, he did the only other thing he could think of. He picked up his phone.

  “Hello?” The older man picked up on the first ring. In almost a year Johnny hadn’t called, outside of regularly scheduled check-ins.

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah, John. What’s wrong, son?”

  Everyone at home called him John now that he was a man. He still liked Johnny.

  “Nothing,” he quickly assured his father.

  “You wouldn’t be calling if nothing was wrong. Now don’t make me worry. It’s not good for my health.”

  Alex Brubaker’s health was just fine. At sixty, he had a body equivalent to a forty-year-old’s according to the doctor’s report after his last physical.

  “Have you ever failed at something?” Johnny asked.

  Silence on the other end of the line had him re-thinking the decision to call. What the hell was he doing? Flying off in the jet. Calling his daddy. Kissing his life-quest partner. You’d think he was losing his mind.

  At the moment it felt like he could be.

  “So, the truck’s not panning out the way you expected?” Alex said after a few long seconds, and Johnny wondered if he’d called his mother over to listen in. It wasn’t like he really cared. Either his mom heard it all firsthand, or his dad would tell her later. Th
e elder Brubakers were a team, pure and simple. He and Angel had done their best to emulate them.

  “Don’t take it to heart, son. This was Angel’s dream, not yours. You did the right thing in giving it flight. That’s what matters. It’s not like you need the money. Or like she does, either.”

  No, what Angel had always needed was independence. Life apart from their small circle, their parents, the kids they’d grown up with. Although Johnny had been happy right where they were, she’d needed what she’d called real life.

  Not that he’d tell their parents that.

  “Actually, I was thinking about franchising the truck,” he said now. “It’s making far more than I projected and the lines are so long I could easily support a second truck at the same venue. But what I had in mind was selling to individuals who want to get into the business. There’d be corporate oversight, but we’d give the owners autonomy, too, within boundaries that would protect the brand. And to be true to Angel’s goals, a percentage of the profits would have to go to local charities.”

  “You don’t need my input to do any of that.”

  No, he didn’t. The legalities of creating and expanding a business were all in a day’s work for him. His father’s holdings currently numbered more than two hundred ventures, with Alex as major investor of all of them. Johnny had another twelve, in his name alone. Angel’s Food Bowls, even as a national venture, would be the smallest among them.

  “I’ve never failed at anything,” Johnny said, looking out into the night. Seeing ships in the harbor. Thinking about the stories his father had told of being a young naval officer aboard a ship in San Diego.

  “You work hard. You give a hundred percent to whatever you do.”

  “And you’re blessed with intelligence and talent, Johnny,” his mother’s voice piped in. He couldn’t help smiling at that one.

  He loved his folks to death, but they were so predictable. In a totally comforting way.

  “Have you ever failed at anything, Dad?”

  “I’ve had ventures that didn’t pan out as well as I liked. Think of the Critchner deal.”