by Robyn Grady
While Wynn’s eyes burned and narrowed, Cole went on. “So far, there are no red flags in this guy’s history. In fact, his record is exemplary.”
“I just need to say—” Wynn hacked out a laugh. “I’m sorry, but I bet my life he’s not the first.”
When Cole’s jaw jutted and he looked down, Teagan was reminded that Eloise had even hit on him once. Unbelievable.
“When is Dad filing the custody papers?” she asked.
“This evening’s stunt will bump that up,” Cole said. “He’ll still have to deal with her, though. Dad wants her in their lives.”
So did Teagan. “But if she puts them in danger...”
“Supervised visits.” Jacob’s shoulders rolled back. “If she has a history, that could be the way to go.”
Wynn shook his head. “I can’t see Eloise going for that.”
“If you can prove that she’s toxic,” Jacob replied, “you’ll have the judge’s ear.”
“What do you term proof?” Wynn’s tone was edged with sarcasm. “A reliable source?”
He was having a dig at Jacob about the information his reporter had received on Grant Howcroft’s alleged drug use.
Jacob didn’t take the bait. “That would help. But if you could get solid evidence...photos, police reports, psych evaluations...”
“What if she wants a paternity test?” Cole cringed. “I know Tate is the spitting image of Dad when he was that age. Has all his mannerisms, too. Not that any of that is conclusive. But Honey...?”
“It takes anywhere from a few days to a few weeks to get results back,” Jacob said.
“As far as our father is concerned,” Wynn pointed out, “Honey is his child. DNA swabs won’t change that.”
Teagan thought of Jacob’s situation, which was obviously very different from her father’s. If Jacob’s paternity test came back negative, he wouldn’t hesitate to walk away. He didn’t know the child. Had never met him. Being excluded would leave the way clear for the true father to step up to the plate. Still, blood wasn’t necessarily thicker than water. She only had to think of Jacob’s past and his relationship with the Rawsons to know that.
As far as Teagan was concerned...she would die for those two kids, and her feelings for Honey wouldn’t change no matter who her father was. The thought of walking away, never seeing Honey again, made her blood run cold.
“I know we’re all concerned about Honey,” Grace said. “She doesn’t have a voice. But I hate to think of how this time is affecting Tate. What does a six-year-old tell himself when he can see that his family is being torn apart? He’s been through enough already.”
Taryn gave a thoughtful nod. “There hasn’t been any action on the stalker front since the wedding.”
Teagan shuddered, remembering how close they had come to losing Tate that day.
“Doesn’t mean it’s over,” Wynn grunted. “I’d like to take them both out of harm’s way again until everything’s sorted.”
“Tate has stayed with Dex and me,” Teagan told Jacob.
“And I had him over Christmas.” Wynn expelled a breath. “Do you know what he told me Christmas Eve? He thought he was to blame for his parents’ problems.”
Cole’s eyes suddenly widened and he straightened as he looked past Teagan to the door. “Dad.”
Teagan turned in her seat. Her father stood on the threshold. He looked beaten. And yet he pasted on a smile as he headed over to the table.
“This isn’t much of a celebration for Wynn and Grace, I’m afraid.”
Wynn had gotten to his feet to pull out his father’s chair while Cole asked, “How are the kids?”
“Eloise decided that she only wanted Honey. Tate came home with me. He’s in bed.”
Teagan withered inside. Had Tate cried when they’d left his little sister behind? What was wrong with that woman?
She shoved back her chair. “I’ll go up and see him.”
Her father held up a hand. “He’s asleep, sweetheart. Big day.”
Wynn returned to his seat. “Was the soldier boyfriend there?”
“He was. Hate to say it, but he was polite. Even concerned.”
“And Eloise?” Cole asked.
“She seemed sober. Which almost worries me more. I don’t know what to expect next.”
None of them did, Teagan thought. Especially poor Tate.
* * *
Jacob had been prepared for a challenge. Coming here, he’d wanted to get along with the Hunters, but he hadn’t expected to sympathize with the family.
They had everything—money, corporate and social power, intelligence. As far as looks went, hell, they could’ve been the A-list cast from a blockbuster movie. Or perhaps that comparison was in Jacob’s head because someone had mentioned that Dex, the middle brother and head of Hunter Productions in LA, was due to arrive in the next couple of days.
Given the discussion regarding cheating, divorce and custody issues, he’d felt for everyone at that dinner table, including Wynn, who looked so preoccupied and only pushed around the food on his plate. Taryn and Grace tried to lighten the mood with talk about decorating nurseries and honeymoons in Venice. But overall, the dinner was tense, start to finish; plates went away barely touched.
Before heading back to their guest quarters, Teagan told Jacob, “I need to go check on Tate.”
“Sure. Of course.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I’m totally there if you want me.”
She gave him a weary smile and nodded.
They climbed an extravagant sweeping staircase and headed quietly down a long hallway. The bedroom was awash with a soft yellow glow. In one corner, a pack of stuffed animals and plastic dinosaurs stared back at them like a regiment of mini personal guards. The boy lay on his back, one pajama-clad arm dangling over the mattress.
Jacob followed Teagan as she inched closer. When she stopped to gaze down at the sleeping child, her clasped hands tucked under her chin, something in Jacob’s chest wrenched so hard, he had to press his lips together to stop the groan. Like the others, he wanted to know this child would be kept safe. But his reaction involved more than that.
At that moment, he got who Teagan Hunter truly was. Loyal, strong and capable of an ocean-deep commitment. Tate and Honey might be going through a hell of a time right now, but their big sister would do anything to have them both come out the other side knowing how much they were loved.
When Teagan found his hand, Jacob beat down the urge to clear the emotions crowding his throat. He’d always had a chip on his shoulder about growing up poor and unwanted. Until a few weeks ago, the idea of having a family of his own had never entered his head. Why would it? He’d been raised in a hellhole where discipline meant endless stinging slaps across the ear and going to bed hungry more often than not. Given he had inherited his biological parents’ genes, Jacob had never wanted to take even the slightest risk of repeating the pattern.
Later, when they went to bed, Teagan curled into him and he stroked her hair, loving her warmth and her scent. He was still thinking about Tate and those paternity results when she shifted and looked up into his eyes.
“Thank you,” she said.
He smiled softly. “What for, baby?”
“For tonight,” she said. “For being on our side.”
Fifteen
The newlyweds had booked the grand ballroom of an exclusive inner city hotel that boasted dazzling views of the harbor at night. There would be family and select friends, but guests had been warned to refrain from sharing details of the coming event on social media. The key words were privacy and security. With Brandon Powell’s crew on the beat and all arrangements hush-hush, this was set to be a wonderful and—fingers crossed—uneventful night.
With five days on their hands until then, Teagan decided to show Jacob the highlights of her hometown. They’d started
with the Christmas in July markets at The Rocks, a historic tourist precinct on Sydney Harbour’s southern shore. They enjoyed delicious mulled wine, traditional carols and an array of early Yuletide pop-up stores.
The next day, they checked out Bondi. After a walk along the famous stretch of white sand, they sat at a café overlooking the Pacific Ocean and ordered coffee with slices of wattle seed and quandong cake. Quandong, Teagan informed Jacob, was Australia’s sweet and tangy native peach.
The following day, they checked out the harbor and an assortment of stops via commuter ferry. They spent most of the day at Sydney’s best known theme park—Luna Park—which had its own “Coney Island” complete with a fun house from the 1930s; there were rotating barrels, moving platforms, large sliders and arcade games galore. They rode the hair-raising Wild Mouse roller coaster three times. When they left the park at dusk, the entrance—a giant laughing face—was lit up along with all the rides.
On the ferry back, a woman seated nearby heard Jacob’s accent and took it upon herself to inform him of the Opera House’s history as they passed by the iconic shells, which were illuminated with blown-up moving projections of Aboriginal artwork inspired by the Dreamtime. The woman had been born in 1957, the same year the Opera House architect had won the international design competition.
This was why Teagan would always call Sydney home. The amazing climate, scenery, food and the people. Jacob seemed to feel at home, too. With the wind combing through his hair as he studied the iconic arts center and the sparkling harbor waters while listening to the woman’s story, he looked more than interested. Jacob looked like he could truly belong.
Every evening, they hung out with Tate and caught up with family over dinner. Tonight, however, they’d gotten in late and opted for a swim in their very private heated pool.
Wearing an aqua bikini, Teagan dove in first. When she came up for air, somehow Jacob was already right there beside her in the pool, beautiful broad chest and shoulders wet and bare.
She wiped water from her eyes. “How’d you get here so fast?”
“Skill.”
She gave his lopsided grin a splash before mermaid diving and swimming away.
Before her accident, Teagan had won plenty of blue ribbons at swim meets. But clearly Jacob had a secret weapon. By the time she got to the other end, there he was again, standing in the shallows, dark hair plastered to his head, upper body glistening, and not the least bit out of breath.
She pretended to pout. “I don’t want to race anymore.”
His muscled arms looped around her waist. “You want to expend some energy a different way?”
“Oh, you mean like by talking?”
His muscles flexed as he grinned and tugged her closer. “Sure. Let’s talk.”
When he began to twirl them both around, she brought her legs up and locked them around his hips. He was so warm and wet and hard...
“So, what do you want to talk about?” she asked.
“Uh...kangaroos. You piqued my interest at the farm that night.”
She remembered well. “I told Lanie to stay away from big reds, our boxing kangaroos.”
“We didn’t come across any this week.”
“There are plenty of roos in the Outback—more than there are people in the whole of Australia. But you won’t see them in the city. Some on the fringes, though.”
“Around here?”
“Not so much.”
He twirled them the other way, smiling when she leaned back until her hair drifted through the water and her legs needed to brace his hips more.
“Interesting fact,” she said, tipping back up again. “When they hop, roos only ever use their hind legs together. But when they swim, they kick each leg independently like riding a bike.”
“I did not know that.” His gaze was on her lips. “What about the pouch?”
“Well, they’re marsupials. Babies are born when they’re maybe an inch long. They travel up through their mommy’s fur then slip into her pouch where they hang out for a few months, fattening up, growing big.”
“Sounds like a snug but extremely bumpy ride.” He twirled her around again. “And they swim, you say?”
“Very well.”
“How are they under water?”
Before she could think that through, he put his mouth to hers and pulled them both down.
Her first reaction was to break off and find some air, but she soon learned that she liked smooching that way. When he brought them both up, her arms were looped around his neck and she was out of breath, in more ways than one.
Humming in her throat, angling her head, she circled the tip of her nose around his. “So, what would you like to discuss now?”
He began to pull her under again. “I think we’re all done talking.”
* * *
The following evening, upon arriving at Grace and Wynn’s party, Teagan spotted the happy couple sitting in a chair swing decorated with reams of airy tulle and fragrant cream roses. Grace’s taffeta gown was ice pink, with exquisite beading around the sweetheart neckline. A slit up one side revealed a shorter after the formalities skirt underneath. Wynn looked debonair, and so proud, in his tailored tux. As their photographer snapped a few shots, Wynn leaned in to kiss his beaming bride while the guests sent up a collective “Aww.”
Cole and Taryn made their way over through the small crowd.
“Isn’t the room gorgeous?” Taryn said to Teagan. The decor had a Venetian honeymoon theme. There was a miniature bridge with a glistening mock canal and gondola, a bar adorned with carnevale masks and a starlit “sky.”
“The wedding cake is tiramisu.” Taryn looked to Jacob, obviously wanting to include him. “Have you been to Italy, Jacob?”
“Aside from the Bahamas, I haven’t been out of the States until now.”
He’d had a disadvantaged childhood, but Teagan had assumed that he had traveled since then. The fact that he hadn’t hesitated to jump on a flight to join her here for this celebration made her feel even better about buckling to his request, even if she’d suffered a huge case of nerves when he’d first arrived.
As Jacob linked her arm through his, Teagan cast a look around. “Where’s Dad?” Cole pointed past the heads and shoulders of the partygoers. Their father was speaking with Milo Vennard. “Oh. I didn’t realize the professor was invited.”
Cole’s grin was slanted. “The other night, Vennard pretty much invited himself. Obviously, he’s not finished chewing Dad’s ear off about the imminent revolution. He’s gotten worse over the years. It’s like Hunter Enterprises is responsible for all the economic and social woes of the world. According to him, we need to see the light and make amends.”
Watching Guthrie and Vennard, Taryn winced. “Should we rescue him?”
“Dad can take care of himself,” Cole said. “At least in that regard.”
Looking the part of on the job but under the radar, in a dark blue suit and matching tie, Brandon Powell strolled up. Cole included his friend in the conversation.
“Has Teagan introduced you to Jacob?”
Straight-faced, Brandon acknowledged Jacob. “We’ve bumped into each other.” With Jacob returning a curt nod, it was obvious the tension between the two men hadn’t eased.
Cole was surveying the crowd. “So, everything good?”
With a sweeping, heavy-lidded gaze, Brandon assessed the scene. “Tight as a drum.”
“Make sure your guys keep an eye on Tate.”
Brandon nodded toward a table where a handful of guests’ children were trying on carnevale masks. The kids were having fun, but Teagan’s mother-hen antennae were quivering.
“Is anyone actually with Tate?” she asked.
“Tate has a personal bodyguard assigned.” Cole winked at his sister. “Don’t worry. We won’t let anything happen to him.”
Brandon went back to work while Taryn and Cole left to greet friends who had just walked in.
Teagan took the opportunity to bring Jacob up to speed on the details of what led to the current security situation.
“The other weekend, Lanie mentioned the explosion at Cole and Taryn’s wedding, but I’m not sure you know the whole story. No one was seriously injured, but Tate came close to being trapped.” To being killed. “Wynn found him in the marquee. Another few seconds...”
Jacob bowed his head and swore under his breath. “Poor kid. No wonder...”
Teagan prodded. “No wonder what?”
Jacob’s jaw tensed as he looked first at Wynn and Grace and then at Cole and Taryn.
“Well, you all seem so protective of him. I thought I understood why, but that puts your concerns on a whole other level. You had mentioned that Tate stayed with each of you in the States. I have to say, I think that’s still a good idea. I think Brandon Powell would even agree with me there.”
“Dad and Eloise were still together then. Now they live apart and she’s making demands like yesterday when she all of a sudden wanted the kids.”
Jacob was frowning...rethinking. “If your father flew either child out of the country without her consent, she could cause all kinds of legal problems for him. And given this ongoing investigation and the continued risk to your father and the children...she could have grounds to file for full custody.”
Her head was still whirling when Sebastian joined them. After commenting on how lovely the bride looked, he spoke to Teagan.
“My parents pass on their regrets. Talbot hasn’t been well. Getting older.” With a wry grin, he studied his champagne flute. “Can’t turn back time, more’s the pity.”
Perhaps Jacob could see that Teagan was still wrestling with his legal opinion regarding the possible custody battles. He stepped in with a question.
“Sebastian, you’re new to Hunter Broadcasting. How are you enjoying it?”
“It might sound weird, but it feels like home. Of course, I have a lot to learn.” Sebastian slid a glance Cole’s way. “I know the boss is sick of my questions.”
