"Okay, I'll follow up on it."
"Do you really think Jen is in San Francisco?"
"I have a feeling she might have come back, or maybe she's been here all along."
"But she would have to know that you'd still be looking for her. It's hard to believe she'd risk getting caught now."
"Sometimes people start to believe they've gotten away with the perfect crime. That's usually when they mess up. If you hear anything, even if you don't think it's relevant –"
"I'll let you know," she said.
"Thanks." As he turned, he saw Adrianna in the hallway, surrounded by his mother, sister and an assortment of cousins. They all seemed to be talking at once and Adrianna looked a little like she was drowning. Time for a rescue.
* * *
"Did Wyatt tell you that he broke the national record in swimming when he was in college?" Daria asked.
"No, he didn't," Adrianna said, her mind now spinning with facts about Wyatt. She hadn't had to ask any questions. His mother and the rest of his family had been more than happy to share what appeared to be an endless supply of stories.
"He's so modest," Daria said.
"That doesn't sound like my big brother," Summer put in. "And if we're sharing personal records, you should know that Wyatt also set the record for the most beer drunk in a five-minute period."
"Oh, sh-sh," Daria said, shaking a finger at her daughter. "That was ages ago."
Summer laughed. "It still counts."
"Now tell us how you and Wyatt met," Daria suggested.
"Yes, tell us," Summer echoed.
"Well, we were both throwing coins in the Fountain of Wishes at McClellan Square and somehow they collided in mid air. Wyatt's coin knocked mine to the ground, and I went searching for it."
"And you found Wyatt instead," Daria said with a smile. "What a charming story."
"What's a charming story?" Wyatt asked as he joined the group.
"How you and Adrianna met."
"Oh, that," he said. "That was a fluke."
"Or maybe not," Summer said. "You were both making a wish."
"It wasn't to meet each other," he said sharply.
While Adrianna agreed with him, for some reason his quick denial irritated her a little bit -- also, his reference to their meeting being a fluke. Earlier, he'd implied that their meeting might be fate bringing him closer to his daughter. Now, she was being relegated to a chance flip of a coin?
"You can really be stupid," Summer told Wyatt, making a face at him. "I'm going to go find my smart husband-to-be."
Daria and Wyatt's cousin also excused themselves, leaving Wyatt and Adrianna alone in the hall.
"What did I say?" he asked Adrianna, confusion in his eyes.
"Nothing. Your family doesn't realize we're just friend. They want there to be something more."
He stared back at her. "Adrianna."
When he didn't keep going, she found her nerves tightening. "I'm hungry," she said, breaking the growing tension. "I think you promised me food."
He looked relieved by the change in subject. "I did. The buffet is in the dining room."
"Care to show me the way?"
"No problem. How about a drink first?" he asked. "It looks like you lost your champagne."
"I drank it in between stories about you. According to your family, you're a brilliant student, a talented athlete, a gifted musician –"
"Whoa, they did not say musician."
"You didn't play the clarinet in the 7th grade?"
"I did, but only at my mother's insistence. She wanted to see her boy in an orchestra. When we had the recitals, I didn't actually play. I just pretended."
"And she didn't know?"
He laughed. "I honestly don't know how she couldn't know. She heard me practice. I was terrible. Did she think I suddenly turned into a musician when I put on the shirt and tie and sat in the orchestra?"
"She's very proud of you. They all are."
Wyatt handed her a glass of punch. "This is spiked."
"Thank goodness," she said, taking a sip of the mango flavored rum punch. "I met your brother. He told me you'd received some medal for being injured on the job."
"It was stupid. I did nothing to deserve it."
She gave him a thoughtful look. "Are you really modest? Or just trying to put your best foot forward with me?"
"It really was nothing," he said. "I got shot in the shoulder. It was a graze. I've been hurt worse playing shortstop."
"I heard about your baseball career, too," she said.
He groaned. "I wasn't gone that long."
"Your mother talks really fast." She paused, taking another sip of punch. "What did Summer want to talk to you about?"
"She was having a panic attack about getting married."
"Really? Does she have reason to be worried? Have you met the groom?"
"He seems like a good guy. She was more concerned about following in my footsteps. I told her she'd never followed me in anything else, why start now?"
"That was nice of you, very big brotherly. I always wanted a big brother, someone to look out for me. She's lucky to have you and Connor."
"Most of the time she thinks I'm a pain in the ass. Connor -- she likes a little better. Ready for some food?"
"Did your mother make all this?" she asked, as they approached the buffet table. It appeared that most people were already eating, so there was no longer a line.
"She had it catered by some of Gloria's friends. You'll note the abundance of Mexican food."
"I love enchilada's," she said, grabbing a plate. "Actually, I love all food."
"What's the strangest thing you've ever eaten?" he asked, as she put some enchiladas on a plate.
"Probably sea urchin."
"Really? You ate sea urchin? Doesn't that have spikes?"
"It does, and it was part of a culinary class I took. It was on the menu one day. I didn't care for it, but I did learn how to cook it."
He shook his head. "And I thought I was being adventurous trying snails."
"Are you kidding? That's nothing. Snails taste just like chicken."
"I tried to tell myself that," he said with a laugh.
She grinned back at him. It was nice to see him in a lighter mood. He might have been dreading this visit home, but it was clear that being around his family was good for him. "I don't think I can fit anything else on my plate," she said.
He gazed down at her full plate and nodded. "I agree. Shall we find somewhere to eat?"
"I think there are some tables outside."
"I know a better place. Come with me."
A few minutes later, Wyatt led her into what appeared to be his old bedroom. She set her plate down on the desk and looked around. "So this is where the glory days began," she said, waving her hand toward the wide array of trophies.
"Right here," he said, sitting down on the double bed. "I would have thrown all the hardware out years ago, but my mother insists on keeping it. She says she paid for all my uniforms and batting lessons, and swimsuits, and the trophies are partly hers. I think she just likes to come here and pretend I'm still twelve instead of thirty-two."
"I think it's sweet."
"I think you should eat before your food gets cold."
She pulled out the desk chair and sat down. As she ate, she glanced at the books on the shelf in front of her. "You liked mysteries, didn't you?"
"I did until my life turned into one."
"Speaking of which …" She turned sideways in her chair so she could see him. "I saw you having a rather intense conversation with a woman. What was that about?"
"That was Mandy, one of Jen's high school friends. I asked her if she knew anyone in the group who might have a boy named Ben and a girl about Steph's age."
"I assume she said no, or we'd already be on our way back to San Francisco."
"It's a long shot, but she gave me a name to check out – Rebecca Mooney."
"You have a name, and we're still here
. You're showing amazing restraint."
"I searched the Internet on my phone before I came to get you."
She nodded, not at all surprised. "And …"
"And I texted Josh. He's at work tonight."
"So you have your bases covered."
"I knew I couldn't cut out on Summer that fast. She is my sister after all. And I really have no idea if Rebecca Mooney is anyone important." He paused, tilting his head. "So what do you think of me now? Have I convinced you that I'm a good guy?"
"Your parents certainly love you, but they're prejudiced." She paused for a moment, knowing that his serious eyes demanded a more serious answer. "I think I knew you were a good guy when our coins hit each other, and you tried to help me find my quarter."
"Really? So we could have skipped this dinner?"
She laughed. "I don't think you could have skipped it. They're really happy you came. They're probably less excited that we're hiding up here."
"You know that I'm not hiding you, right?"
"Oh, I know that. You're the one who's hiding. It's hard for you to be the center of attention. You're used to being the protector, the one looking out for everyone else. You don’t know how to handle being the one who's in trouble."
"You're very perceptive, Adrianna."
"I'm used to studying people. I was a spectator of life for a very long time."
"I hope that doesn't continue. You don’t want to miss out on the actual living part."
"I'm trying to get back there. I don't think you need to worry about your family. They'll be there to support you no matter what. And they understand that you can only give them what you can give right now. You're doing the best you can. No one can ask for more. So, do you still swim?"
He cleared his throat at the abrupt switch in subjects. "I usually hit the six a.m. workout at the local pool. What about you?"
"Never was a swimmer. My mom was too sick to teach me, and there weren't really any pools around. I can flap my arms around so I don't drown, but I don't get too far."
"I could teach you."
"Like you have time to do that."
"Well, not right now."
"I am impressed that you get a workout in so early in the morning. I'm not an early riser, but then I usually work late at the restaurant – or I used to," she amended.
"You will again. And my dedication to swimming is borne out of the desire not to succumb to the enormous stress I'm under. Swimming laps brings a sense of calm into my life. I need it to stay sane."
"Two years is a long time," she murmured, wondering again how he could hold it together for so long. "How do you not give up?"
He pulled Stephanie's picture out of his wallet and held it up. "I look at this face every day."
Her heart tore a little at the pain in his eyes. "I can't wait to meet her."
"I can't wait for you to meet her."
They exchanged a long, poignant look.
"One thing I don't understand," she said. "From everything you told me about Jennifer, it doesn't seem like she wanted to be a mother. Why did she take Stephanie? Why didn't she just take her freedom and go? It seems like that's what she wanted all along."
"I've asked myself that a million times. It had to be payback. Revenge. Most parental abductions have nothing to do with the child and everything to do with the spouse."
"She hated you that much?"
"She thought I was the one who got her arrested. I actually didn't know that she was driving under the influence at the time. But I was the one who forced her into rehab. I became her enemy."
"But all this time she's had to be a mother to your daughter. Did she decide after losing Stephanie that she wanted her after all?"
He considered her words for a moment. "That could be part of it. She always wanted things she couldn't have. What gets me through the night is the hope that she did discover a maternal instinct, that she loves Stephanie, and that she's taking care of her. I can't think about it any other way."
"Well, she took Stephanie and left everyone else in her life behind, that has to be love."
"Twisted love," he said bitterly. He put his empty plate aside. "Are you finished? Let's get out of this room. It's depressing."
"I think it's cute," she said. "I always wanted my own room. I didn't get one until I was twenty-three years old."
"Not even when you were living with your mom?"
"Nope. We shared a room. We were broke all the time, Wyatt. And once she died, I had to carry everything I had with me. If I put it down, it would be gone. So I hung on tight to the few tings I could keep."
"You have a nice apartment now."
"It's small, but it's home, and I love it."
He smiled. "You pulled yourself up by the bootstraps."
"Never wore boots. I don't find them at all comfortable."
"You know what I mean. You're impressive. But I have something else that's impressive to show you."
"Lead the way."
Chapter Eight
Wyatt took Adrianna down the hall and up a set of narrow, twisting stairs. He pushed open the door at the top and helped her out onto a flat portion of the roof. She'd told him that as a child she'd felt very small surrounded by skyscrapers and steep hills. He wanted to give her a different perspective on the city.
As she stepped out, she drew in a quick breath of startled surprise. "Oh, wow," she said, moving across the deck to stand at the rail. "What an incredible view."
It was an amazing view. From their spot high up in the Berkeley hills, they could not only see the city of Berkeley but the lights of San Francisco and two spectacular bridges, the Bay Bridge and the Golden Gate. It was a clear night, plenty of stars in the sky, and an almost full moon.
"The city is so pretty from here," Adriana murmured.
He moved next to her, his shoulder brushing hers. "I thought you might like to see it from up high."
"It's a much better view than the one I get from apartment."
"This is my favorite spot in the house. Whenever I was frustrated or pissed off or just wanting to grow up already, I used to come out here. The city called to me. I knew one day it would be my home."
"I like San Francisco," she said. "But it was more my home by default than anything else. I focused on working my way up in the city, never considering that I might go somewhere else."
"Why should you? The city has everything."
"It does," she said with a little sigh.
He gave her a shoulder a nudge. "What are you thinking?"
She turned to face him. "That I wish I'd had somebody to show me this view when I was a little girl. I imagined it, but I was so overwhelmed by my small place in the world, that I couldn't quite see the big picture. I just had to focus on what was right in front of me."
"That's not a bad way to go," he said. "Sometimes you can get distracted by all the choices."
She nodded. "Thanks for bringing me up here."
As he gazed into her eyes, he was struck by how pretty she looked in the moonlight, her hair clouding around her face, the sparkle in her expressive brown eyes, her soft, sweet lips. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he heard her quick intake of breath. When he raised his eyes to hers, he saw the gleam and uncertainty of desire.
This time, he was the one who had to search for breath. His chest felt tight. His heart started pounding against his chest, and he felt an irresistible pull that sent his arms around her waist and his mouth down on hers.
She tasted like chili and hot peppers, or maybe that was just the heat running through his body. His demanding kiss parted her lips, and he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, so he could taste more of her. The sweet moist cavern of her mouth made him think of all the other places on her body that he wanted to taste, to touch. He'd been holding desire back, but now it was flooding past his defenses, and he couldn't stop the need that ran through him.
A need she must have felt, too, because she was kissing him back, running her hands around his back, her finge
rs seeking the skin beneath his shirt. He wanted to strip off his shirt and hers, too. He wanted to drag his mouth down the side of her jaw, to the curve of her neck, the valley of her breasts. He wanted to lay her down on the hard cold stone of the deck and warm her from the inside out.
"Stop, wait," Adrianna said, pulling back. "I – I don't think this is a good idea."
He couldn't think at all.
She slipped out of his arms, smoothing down her clothes, putting a hand to her hair, fingers to her lips. And all he could do was stare at her.
Reason came back slowly.
She turned away from him and looked out at the view.
He drew in a breath, and then another. Finally, he said. "I'm sorry."
"I don't want an apology," she said, casting him a quick look.
"What do you want?"
"Nothing. I just … we can't do this. It's not the right time."
He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I know. I wasn’t thinking."
"Neither was I."
A moment or two passed in cooling silence.
"We should go back inside," Adrianna said.
He caught her arm as she moved past him. "Adrianna –"
"Don't say anything. It was just a moment. I got caught up in the view, and I think the punch had something to do with it."
She could blame the view and the punch, but he knew that his reasons for kissing her had nothing to do with those factors. He was attracted to her, and he liked her – probably too much. And for a short time, he'd let himself forget that the only reason they were together was to find Stephanie.
"Are you still going to help me tonight?" he asked sharply.
Her gaze met his. "Yes. I'll go to Vincenzo's. I'll wait in the alley with you. And we'll see what happens."
* * *
Adrianna's pulse was still racing when she left the roof and went downstairs, acutely aware of Wyatt following close behind her. She must have been out of her mind to kiss him, and not just a brief, innocent kiss, but a carnal lover type kiss. She drew in a shaky breath.
What the hell had she been thinking?
He wasn't the right man. This wasn't the right place or the right time.
When Wishes Collide Page 9
