by Loraine, Kim
As Grace watched John’s adoptive mother hug Drew, her heart swelled with love and pride for this man she’d married.
Marianne turned her attention to Grace the moment Drew released her. The shrewd woman zeroed in on the obvious baby bump and she burst into a wide smile. “Well, that didn’t take very long.”
Drew laughed and put an arm around Grace.
“It’s twins,” Grace announced.
Marianne’s face brightened. “Of course. I’m so happy for you two. I bet your mother is over the moon.”
“She’s impossible,” Grace admitted with an exasperated chuckle.
“Come on in. Everyone is in the family room.”
Drew leaned down to whisper, “Everyone?” in Grace’s ear.
Everyone turned out to be both of John’s brothers and his father. Grace grinned as she saw David, the barrel-chested patriarch of the Oliver family. He’d put on a little weight since she’d left, but still looked every inch the formidable man she remembered.
“Drew, this is Brian, John’s dad.” Marianne’s voice was strong as she introduced her husband.
Drew shook his hand and said, “It’s a pleasure.”
“This is Alex.” She motioned to the younger men. “And Michael. They’re John’s brothers. Michael’s a firefighter at the same station John worked for.”
Each of John’s older brothers shook Drew’s hand. Grace noticed Michael’s hesitance, the slight frown that turned down his lips, and the furrow of his brow. Her heart squeezed as she watched the exchange. Out of the two brothers, Michael had taken John’s death the hardest. She offered him a soft smile, hoping to show him that she knew how hard this was for him.
Dinner was quiet, everyone trying for small talk rather than addressing the elephant in the room. About halfway through the meal, Drew cleared his throat, catching the attention of the table.
“I know this must be hard for you all. I just want you to know, you don’t have to avoid speaking about John. I know he was, still is, a huge part of your lives.”
Michael tensed in his place across from Grace and refused to meet Drew’s eyes. “Thanks,” he muttered.
Brian smiled at Grace and Drew. “Thank you. I have to say, it’s pretty startling to look at you. It’s hard to remember you’re not John with you sitting there at the dinner table with our Gracie.”
Her stomach clenched.
“I imagine.” Drew’s voice was light, but Grace saw the tightness in his eyes. This was hard for him, too.
Alex laughed. “Yeah, but as soon as you start talking it’s easy to remember. Thank God you’re British.”
Everyone laughed except for Michael. His focus was on peeling off the label of a beer bottle. Her gaze locked on the gold ring that was fitted around the third finger of his left hand. Michael was married?
Grace stood, suppressing an eye roll as all four men pushed back their own chairs.
“Come on, this isn’t Victorian England. Sit down.” She turned her attention to Michael. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
Michael raised his eyes to meet hers and must’ve seen the resolve on her face because he stood and followed. He didn’t speak as they walked outside to the beach that served as a back yard.
“Are you doing okay?” she asked, as soon as the door shut.
The sun had set and everything was cloaked in a velvet-blue darkness. The yellow twinkling of fireflies gave the beach an ethereal feel and she smiled wistfully as they walked through the blinking lights and listened to the crashing waves.
“I’ve gotten so good at forgetting him.” Michael’s gravelly voice was quiet, as if he was ashamed to admit the truth.
She took his arm and laid her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“I shouldn’t want to forget. I should remember every damn day. It was my fault.”
That stopped her in her tracks. Michael hadn’t even been on shift when John died. It had been a terrible accident. No one’s fault. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be treating your husband like this.”
“You’re right. Donovan did the same thing the first time he saw Drew.”
“You see him yet this visit?”
She grinned, thinking of their earlier lunch with Donovan and Valerie. “Yeah. Drew’s helping Valerie with some . . . issues. I think Donovan’s over the Drew thing.”
“She’s good for him. I just hope he doesn’t fuck it all up.”
She nodded, grabbing his left hand and holding it in front of them. “Speaking of couples . . .”
His cheeks reddened as he pulled his hand away and shoved it in his pocket. “Lena.”
“Lena? As in, Lena Shirakawa?”
He only nodded.
“You got married? To Lena? When?”
Kicking at the sand, he shrugged. “End of June.”
She sighed. This conversation was like pulling teeth. She wanted details. “And?”
“And what? We’re married.”
“Well, where is she tonight?”
“She’s gone on an assignment. You know she’s a photographer, right? She travels a lot.”
Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knew that. She and Lena had never been close, but Valerie spoke of her often.
“You’re happy?”
Another shrug from him didn’t ease her worry. “Can’t complain. Here we are, both married, you pregnant. Who’d have thought this was how things would turn out?” His voice still tinged with sadness, she nudged him with her hip in an effort to lighten the mood.
“So, can we go in now? I’d like you to get to know my husband before we have to leave.”
He pulled her into a hug and chuckled. “You’re a cute pregnant lady.”
“And you’ll be a great uncle.”
His eyes brightened. “Really?”
“I haven’t talked to Drew about it, but I don’t have any brothers or sisters. Neither does he. I think you and Alex should be honorary uncles to these two.”
“Are they going to talk like him?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Probably. We do live in England.”
He nudged her as they started walking back to the house. “You’ve already started talking like him.”
“Shut up.”
He laughed and put on a terrible accent. “Oi, pip pip, cheerio.”
“Oh, my God. Never do that again.”
“Right-oh, mate.”
They chuckled until the moment they reached the back door of the house.
“I’m glad you’re happy, Gracie.”
“Me, too.”
Drew watched Grace move around her childhood bedroom. Her dark hair was longer than it had ever been, falling past her breasts and to the middle of her back in thick waves. As she bent to select her clothes for the day, he couldn’t help but brush the curtain of hair away from her face, his fingers sliding along the line of her shoulder and down her back.
“You were amazing at dinner last night. I thought it was going to be a disaster,” she murmured as he unhooked her bra and slid the straps off her shoulders.
“Not a disaster. Awkward as arse at first, but I think they warmed to me.”
His lips pressed to the soft skin he loved so much and he reached around, cupping her heavy breasts.
“I’m supposed to be getting ready to go, not getting naked.” Her protest was half-hearted as he ran a hand over her belly and lower.
“Valerie can wait. I need you.”
She moaned when he found her ready for him. He pressed his hips against her, wanting to be buried inside her.
He bit back a curse as she shimmied away from him, her cheeks flushed.
“We have to be quiet,” she said, p
ulling him into the bathroom.
Her hands were at his belt as he locked the door and turned the shower on full blast.
“I can manage a quiet shag if you can.”
“Care to make a wager?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.
“Oh, we’re playing it like that are we?”
“Yes, we are. Whoever makes a sound first has to take my mother to lunch.”
“I’m definitely winning this, love. You’ve never been able to keep quiet.”
He thought back to all the sounds he’d coaxed from her. Keening cries, moans, even a few screams during their honeymoon. He was winning, no contest.
He lost. Two minutes in.
Chapter 7
Drew tugged at the collar of his shirt and shifted from foot to foot as he waited for Grace to come back from the bathroom. The heat of the Virginia sun warmed his back as he leaned against the railing of the boardwalk. His eyes scanned every person who passed him, searching for her—his mother.
People stared at him just a little too long, casting glances from one another and back while whispering under their breath. He knew they were talking about John, knew they must be curious, but he was thankful they let him be. He had too much on his mind to deal with their questions.
Needing some space from the prying eyes, he walked to the railing at the edge of the boardwalk and stared out at the sea.
“Sorry. There was a line,” Grace said as she took the space next to him and leaned into his arm.
“All better, then?”
“Much. These little ones seem to think my bladder is a great place to sit. I swear, I have to pee all the time.” She glanced at her phone. “She should be here any minute.”
He gave a half-hearted chuckle and trained his gaze on the crowd once again, hoping he’d see her before Grace did. He wanted to recognize her without help. He needed to prove that he had some kind of connection to this woman.
Grace swayed in her spot and leaned a little harder against him, a soft noise of discomfort escaping her.
“All right, love?”
She shook her head and sat on the bench to her right. “Dizzy. I think I’m a little dehydrated.”
“I can get you some water,” he offered.
“No. I’ll be fine. I just need to sit a second.” She waved him away and he took a seat next to her, rubbing her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her temple.
Taking a heavy breath, she turned to face him, smiling. “See? I’m fine now.” Her eyes grew wide as she focused on something behind him. “She’s here.”
His chest tightened and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Turning, he took in the form of his biological mother. She was tall, slim, and bore a striking resemblance to his aunt Breanna.
“God, she looks just like you. How did I not see it before now?” Grace whispered, more to herself than to him.
“Andrew?” The stranger with his exact smile approached him. Her voice was soft, colored by the ghost of a Scottish accent.
“Maggie.” He worked to keep his voice steady.
Her eyes filled with tears at his acknowledgment and a lump formed in his throat.
It took him a moment to realize that he was clutching Grace’s hand so tightly his knuckles were white. Letting go, he gave her an apologetic look and rose to offer a seat to Maggie.
“You look like him . . . and me.” Maggie’s smile was gentle and hesitant.
“So I’ve seen. We were identical.” He couldn’t keep the ire from his voice. He thought he’d gotten past his unwarranted jealously of John, but hearing the common comparison from her before anything else, got to him.
She shook her head. “Of course you look like John, but I was talking about your father. You look like your father.”
His gut clenched. In all of this, he’d never spared a thought for his biological father. “I do?”
Nodding, she cocked an eyebrow. “Same chin, same ears.”
He unconsciously raised one hand to tug on his earlobe.
“He did that when he was nervous. I suppose he still does.” She reached for his hand, but he tensed and jerked away. He wasn’t ready for this.
“Do you . . . does he know about me?”
Her eyes turned sad. “No. No, and he won’t. He wasn’t a very kind person. He never even knew you were born. I haven’t spoken to him in over thirty years.”
“Why don’t we head in and get some coffee?” Grace suggested.
Drew was thankful for the change of subject. Even still, as they walked into the coffee shop he felt dazed. Could his father really have been that bad? That possibility hadn’t crossed his mind. His head spun momentarily at the notion, but he refused to dwell on it. One step at a time. He had his mother right here in front of him. His biological mother.
Although they sat in a cozy booth, he couldn’t allow himself to enjoy the view of the crashing waves and surfers along the coast. The smiles and laughing faces of beachgoers seemed false somehow, like a façade covering the reality of the situation around him. He felt as though he’d been cut off at the knees with no way to right his world.
“I assume you have questions for me.” Maggie started the conversation as they sipped their drinks.
Drew ran a hand through his hair and took a breath—buying time. He worked to control his thoughts, which were flying a million miles a minute around in his head.
“Why did you come for him and not me?” It was the last question he wanted to ask, but was out of his mouth before he could stop it.
“Oh, Drew.” Grace’s soft admonishment made him flinch.
Maggie’s eyes widened, sparked with hurt, then softened. “I . . . I don’t have a good answer for you. I met a man a few years after I gave you up. We got married. My new husband was an American. We moved a lot.” She began peeling apart the cardboard sleeve around her coffee cup. “I became a citizen shortly after he retired from the Navy. When we ended up in Norfolk, I just happened to see John with his family. He was just a wee boy of eight, but I knew. I confessed everything to my husband and we moved to Golden Beach that summer. I got a job at the school, just so I could be near.”
Drew watched Maggie’s lip tremble as he asked, “Did you ever try to find me?”
She took a shuddering breath. “I did at first, but the adoption was closed. The agency wouldn’t give me any information, so I gave up. I thought I was lucky enough to find one of you. I didn’t think I could take it if I tried to find you and failed. Martin, my husband, he told me to let you be.”
Anger gripped him but he pushed it back. “So you two have known each other quite a while, Grace?”
Her eyes betrayed her concern. She knew him. She could probably read his expression better than he thought.
“I think I was pretty young when we first met.”
Maggie smiled wistfully. “I remember you best when you were probably twelve. John had been teasing you, and Marianne, she was the vice principal at the time, she brought you to the office so you could calm down and dry your eyes. She let him have it right in front of me. I remember thinking how ironic it was that you two ended up together.”
Grace laughed.
Drew stiffened and tried to calm himself. Grace had lived an entire life with John before she came to Braley. She deserved to be able to remember him fondly.
Maggie took Grace’s hand across the table and squeezed. “It was so painful when he died. I lost him without ever being able to tell him I loved him.” She turned her attention to Drew then, a burning intensity in her dark eyes. “I know you don’t know me, Drew. But the truth is, I loved you from the moment I knew I was pregnant. Giving you up was the hardest thing I ever did.”
He wanted to believe her, but he couldn’t convince himself it was the truth. She’d done everything she cou
ld to be with John once she’d found him.
John.
The ghost that haunted every important aspect of his life. The man who’d had everything Drew wanted. And he’d had it first.
“Drew, why are you so quiet?” Grace asked as they pulled into the driveway of her parents’ house.
He shook his head and offered her a faint smile. “I’m all right. It’s just a lot.”
She took his hand, brought it to her lips, and pressed a kiss to the soft skin of his wrist.
“I’m really proud of you.”
He laughed. “Proud? Of what?”
She turned and stared at him, taking in his dark eyebrows, raised in question, and the firm set of his jaw. He was posturing—hiding his true feelings.
“That must’ve been hard for you. Hearing everything about John, about us.”
He shrugged, and she sighed in response. “Don’t shrug this off. I know you’re not really this calm about what just happened.”
“Can you just leave me be for five bloody minutes?” He pulled away from her and slammed the car door as he got out.
Her chest tightened. He needed space. That was fine. She’d give it to him, but he was going to talk sooner or later.
She intercepted him on the front porch and stopped him in his tracks, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I’m going to take a walk. You need space and I need to think. I hope you decide you want to talk to me. I’ll be there to listen when you’re ready.”
It hurt that she couldn’t help him. He wouldn’t let her in, but it was more than that. She didn’t know how to help. John was a sore subject and probably always would be. They rarely spoke of him, mostly because when they did, his ghost seemed to permeate their lives.
Would they have to spend the rest of their lives in fear of dredging up the past and reopening old wounds?
