His One and Only Bride

by Tara Randel

  He’d already had one tantrum and cried until he couldn’t breathe, freaking Mitch out in the process. The guys had tried to distract him with toys and games, but nothing had worked. Leo had now decided to sit silently, daring them all to continue the staring contest.

  “Now what do we do?” Dane asked in a low tone.

  Max shrugged. “You got me.”

  “He’s only one little kid,” Dane continued. “How is he getting the best of us?”

  Wyatt pushed off from the couch to lift Leo. “You guys are clueless.”

  “Clearly. You’re the only one with experience,” Dane volleyed back.

  At the head of the clueless pack sat Mitch. He rubbed his aching temple. Took into his arms the drooling baby held out before him by his buddy. “It’s okay,” Mitch cooed into his son’s ear once he got Leo settled on his lap. “Daddy’s got you.”

  “Looks to me like you’re getting the hang of this thing,” Max commented.

  Mitch raised an eyebrow, his voice filled with amusement. “Right, because you guys just happened to stop by to see my parenting skills in action.”

  The guys exchanged guilty glances.

  “Fess up. Zoe sent you.”

  Dane caved first. “It wasn’t like we had much choice,” he groused. Then realized what he’d said. “Not that we minded coming by,” he amended.

  Wyatt chuckled. “Just stop.”

  “Really,” Max interposed. “For a guy coming back from the dead to the shock of finding out he’s a father, you’ve taken it in stride.”

  Mitch glanced down at Leo and was rewarded with a drooly grin. “The more time I spend with this little guy, I can’t tell if I’m gaining ground or totally inept.”

  “You aren’t the first parent to question their abilities,” Wyatt said, the only man in the group with any kind of daily interaction with children.

  “I’ll admit, Zoe sending in backup rankles, like she still doesn’t trust me.” Leo sagged against him, close to sleep, Mitch guessed. Hoped.

  The guys moved the conversation to sports, which suited Mitch just fine. He’d suspected Zoe of dispatching his friends to the house from the off. At first, he’d been annoyed. She really had to get a grip on this whole control thing. But when Leo started fussing, it was a help to have three other men trying to soothe the baby. Humorous, almost. But a good feeling. One of belonging. Something he’d given up when he’d gone on the road. Zoe had always understood this village mentality, which brought him back to being annoyed again.

  Did she still not trust that he had Leo’s best interests at heart? Every time he started to get comfortable, she pulled something like the guys showing up today. Was she thinking he’d mess up? Prove he didn’t have what it takes for the long haul?

  Before he could answer his own questions, a knock pounded on the door and the police chief let himself in. Leo jumped at the commotion, then held out his arms when the burly man stepped into the living room. The chief said a general hello to the room then stopped to ruffle Leo’s hair.

  “Samantha forgot one of her paint boxes. I’ll be in and out in a jiff.”

  The baby kicked against Mitch, reaching out to the chief. Mitch rose and followed the older man to the art studio.

  “Sure Samantha didn’t send you to check up on me?” Mitch asked as Leo bounced in his arms.

  “Nah. She did forget something.” Bob searched the room littered with all types of art paraphernalia, finding the sought-after box in the corner. “Usually Samantha needs a second pair of eyes before she leaves for a show, but I met her there.” He retrieved the box and held it up. “See?”

  “Sorry. Zoe asked the guys over to make sure everything was okay here, so I’m a little peeved. It’s like she still doesn’t trust me with our son.”

  “It’s gonna take time. She’s been the lone parent for a good long time now.”

  “I get that, I just...” Mitch shook his head.

  Leo nearly bounced out of his arms. Mitch handed him over to the chief.

  “Actually, I’m glad you stopped by.” Mitch rubbed his temple. “I was going to call you this week.”

  “What’s up?” Bob asked as he chucked Leo’s chin.

  “After we spoke the other day, I had a flashback that gave me more concrete details about the accident. I remember the name of one of the guys with me that day. I’m trying to find his whereabouts, but I wondered if you had any advice.”

  Bob’s serious gaze met his. “How about be careful?”

  “I think that’s a given.”

  “Really, Mitch. There’s no tellin’ what might happen if you contact this man. You might be stirrin’ up trouble”

  “Or getting answers. If I don’t find him, I keep on second-guessing.”

  “That is true.” Bob pulled his finger away from Leo, who had grabbed on and was trying to stuff it in his tiny mouth.

  “I think what I really want to ask is, can I call you if I feel like I’m getting in too deep?”

  Bob’s gaze pierced his, straight on. “You know you can. We’re practically family.”

  Mitch grinned. “Things are progressing with Samantha?”

  “Now that you’re back, she worries less about Zoe. Which means she pays more attention to me, so yeah, things are moving to the next level.”

  “You’d better tell Zoe soon.”

  “When Samantha is ready. Speaking of which—” he handed Leo back to Mitch and the baby let out a disappointed whimper “—I’d better get going before she wonders where I ran off to.”

  “Thanks, Chief.”

  “You bet.” He stopped. Placed a beefy hand on Mitch’s shoulder. “You got a room full of friends out there that’ll help same as me. And Max has contacts. You might want to include him in this search of yours.”

  Mitch had thought about it, but once you told two or more people, you lost control of how and where the information went. He didn’t know enough yet to get Max involved. He especially didn’t know enough to risk Zoe finding out.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Good.” Bob lightly slapped his arm. “Now I’m off.”

  Mitch went back to the living room. One by one, the guys took off, busy with Saturday morning errands. Soon a quiet calm settled over the house and Mitch sank onto the sofa, a drowsy Leo snuggled up against him. Before he knew it, the two of them had dozed off. The next thing he knew, Zoe stood over them, a soft smile lighting her face.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey back.” She lightly touched Leo’s head. “Things okay here?”

  “You mean since your accomplices are gone?”

  Her face colored. “About that...”

  Leo shifted, sensing his mother nearby. He opened droopy eyes and mumbled.

  “Let me get him to bed,” Zoe said as she lifted him from Mitch’s lap. “Then we’ll talk.”

  While Zoe put him down, Mitch went to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Midafternoon. Where had the day gone?

  Shaking off the cobwebs, he watched the dark brew fill the pot. The bracing aroma started to perk him up as he gathered his thoughts. He and Zoe needed to get on the same parenting page. Today.

  “Leo went right back to sleep,” Zoe said as she came into the kitchen. “With that tooth he’s cutting, none of us got much sleep last night.”

  Mitch took two mugs from the cabinet and poured. Handed her a steaming cup then leaned back against the counter while Zoe took a seat at the table.

  “I owe you an apology,” she started.

  “How about an explanation?”

  She blew on the hot drink, obviously biding her time.

  “You’ve got to let your guard down, Zoe. I won’t hurt Leo.”

  “You’re just now getting back to normal.”

  He was a long w
ay from normal. His leg was stable enough that he used the cane less, his arm strong after therapy, but the headaches and dizzy spells continued to hit him without warning. He was well aware of how far from normal he still was. But he would never intentionally compromise his son. If he felt a headache coming on, he’d made arrangements to keep his mom on speed dial.

  “Take the health factor out of the equation. Do you really think I would put Leo in danger?”

  He watched her swallow. Ran a hand through his hair. He had been holding out on her, hadn’t he? Not admitting that as he uncovered more about the accident, the gravity of the situation was as debilitating as the headaches that plagued him late at night?

  “Zoe, life happens. We won’t always be able to control every little aspect of Leo’s life. Especially when he gets older.”

  She rubbed the scar on her arm. Always the reminder of what happened when things spun terribly out of control.

  He closed the space between them and took a seat beside her. Took a chance and reached to grasp her hand and held back his relief when she didn’t pull away. “Right now you, we, are Leo’s whole world. But that won’t last. Are you going to limit him by playing it safe his entire life?”

  “And what do you suggest? That I let you take him to parts unknown?”

  “I’m not saying that. I merely want a chance. Between not wanting to leave Leo alone with me or finding me a job you deem as suitable, something’s bound to go wrong.”

  “That’s your opinion.”

  He let out a long sigh. “Which leads me to believe this is another fruitless conversation.”

  She met his gaze. He read the turmoil there but also the gentleness. “I was wrong to send reinforcements today. You are doing great with Leo.”

  “But...?”

  “No buts. I mean it.”

  “Every time you orchestrate our surroundings, you undermine my confidence.”

  Her eyes went wide.

  “You’ve had time to get used to having a child. Had time to figure out the ins and outs of parenting. You’re ahead of the curve while I’m desperately striving to catch up.”

  Unshed tears glistened in her eyes. “I’ll work harder at letting go of some control.”

  “It has to stop, Zoe. We’re in this together, whether we stay married or not. Agreed?”

  She puffed out her cheeks. “Agreed.”

  “And I’ll keep making strides in the parenting role. Together we should be able to make positive progress.”

  A lone tear slipped down her cheek. Without thought, he reached over to thumb it away. When he touched her satiny soft skin, they both froze. At that moment, nothing could have forced Mitch to move away. He leaned forward, his intent to kiss her clear as he cupped her face. She moved in, until their lips brushed. Tenderness tugged at his chest. This is what he’d been hoping for, a chance to renew their relationship, not second-guess each other.

  Zoe angled her head and the kiss became deeper. She held on to his arms while they reconnected, remembered the vows they had shared so many years ago.

  He broke the kiss, staring into her eyes. “We can make this work, Zoe. I want to try.”

  Just as she opened her mouth to reply, her phone pinged. She blinked before slowly moving away to pick it up. She read the message, placed the phone on the table and averted her eyes.

  “Problem?”

  “No. It’s, um, Tim. He wanted to know if I’m free for coffee.”

  Why did it seem as if they were moving forward, only to have another setback thrown into the mix?

  It took every ounce of strength he possessed not to express his frustration. He took Zoe’s mug back. “I’d say you are.”

  “Mitch—”

  “I can stay here with Leo.”

  She slowly rose, pushing in the chair. “I at least owe Tim the courtesy of telling him where we stand.”

  “Which is?”

  “That you and I are working on co-parenting. Which won’t leave time for dating.”

  The pent-up air in him escaped like a pinprick piercing a balloon.

  “And the other? Making our marriage work?”

  “You’re right. I have to make a decision. The only way to do that is for us to spend time together. Fix the trouble or decide to go our separate ways.”

  He nodded.

  “You promise to thoroughly consider the future? You owe me that much.”

  Relief swept through him. “I can do that.”

  She sent him a small smile. “Then no more babysitters for the babysitter. Let’s move forward.” Grabbing her phone, Zoe swept out of the room. Mitch leaned against the table, a flicker of hope flaring inside him. Zoe was giving them a chance.

  He went back to the counter to pick up his mug, a shadow looming over his joy. He hadn’t lied when he’d agreed to consider the future. In fact, the future was all he thought about. Problem was, it was all tied up with the past, and he could only hope that what he discovered about the accident didn’t ruin the positive truce he and Zoe had reached today.

  Chapter Twelve

  IT TOOK MITCH almost a week to track down Jack Parsons. He’d called contacts from his time in Jordan, reached out to fellow journalists and got in touch with the rescue organization working in the area of the accident. Now that he had a number, he stared at the digits written on the piece of paper staring up at him from his desk. Yes, he wanted the truth. But the tingling at the back of his neck warned him he might not like what he uncovered.

  Just as he reached for his cell, the studio landline rang. Sandy, the assistant he’d inherited when taking over for Mr. Haynes, answered on the second ring. She’d worked here going on ten years. He guessed her age to be midforties, with short brown hair, a petite frame and boundless energy. She was efficient, he’d give her that. Taken him under her wing to walk him through the studio appointments, account books and anything pertaining to running the business.

  Since starting a week ago, the studio routine was becoming easier every day, which surprised him. He’d told Zoe he’d give it a try, and so far, he enjoyed the work. His clients were excited to be here, a long cry from the wildness or popularity he’d recorded the last few years and the tragedy more recently. He’d needed a break from such jaw-dropping or heart-wrenching scenarios, a fact made clear when he turned the key in the lock and walked into the quiet space each morning. Instead of being restless for new adventures, he experienced peace. He chatted with clients and discussed their everyday lives. He would never regret the years spent documenting international events and famous people around the globe, but right now, home felt good.

  And it would get better if he stopped procrastinating and made the call.

  He poked his head out of his office door. “Sandy, hold any calls. I need about fifteen minutes personal time.”

  “You got it, boss,” came her jaunty reply.

  He closed the door and stared at the paper again. Took a deep breath and punched in the numbers.

  After five rings, Mitch was ready to leave a message or hang up. Suddenly, a harried voice sounded on the other end.

  “Jack Parsons.”

  Mitch nearly sagged with relief.

  “Jack. Mitch Simmons here.”

  A brief pause, then, “Mitch?” Another pause, then surprise. “Good to hear your voice, man.”

  “It’s been a while.”

  “After we got separated the last time we were together, I’d heard you, ah...died.”

  “Thankfully, that’s not the case.”

  “What happened?”

  “Long story. Short version is I was laid up in a hospital for a long time and finally made it back home.”

  “You’re in the States?”

  “I am. How about you? Did you get hurt in the crash?”

  “No, man. I mean, I had some cuts and bruises, but
nothing major.”

  “That’s good to hear. My memory is sketchy, but I remember driving to a refugee camp when all of a sudden a truck was on our tail. Ran us off the road.”

  “We were being followed.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “It was a crazy day. I’m not sure.”

  “Rebels?”

  “Can’t answer that.”

  Mitch rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “I heard shots. I called to you, but when you didn’t answer, I thought you’d been taken out.”

  “No. I got lucky. No holes in this body.”

  Mitch sank down in his chair, relieved. He still couldn’t remember what happened to Jack, no matter how many times he called up the flashback. “There was a guy with the gun. Who was he?”

  “You really can’t remember?”

  “He clocked me with the butt of the pistol. Knocked me out cold.”

  “I didn’t know what happened to you in all the confusion.”

  “I suffered a head wound. Now I only have bits and pieces of the accident. I just recently recalled you being there.”

  “Hey, I’m sorry. I managed to get away.”

  “From a guy with a gun? How did that happen?”

  “Good luck?”

  “Had to be more than that. It looked like there might have been others in the truck.”

  Jack hesitated. “I never saw anyone else. While the guy was talking to you, I jumped out of the truck bed and took off. Made it to a stand of trees where I hid until he left. Slowly made my way back to camp.”

  And left him there to die? “You didn’t check on me?”

  “I was afraid to take a chance. Sent help your way when I made it to safety.”

  That would explain how Mitch had gotten to the hospital, but it didn’t explain why Jack’s explanation seemed off.

  “Can you tell me anything else?”

  “No. Went back to the States not long after. Been in Miami since. You know, my home base.”

  Mitch’s antennae went up. Miami? Why did that city seem familiar?

  “You work there, right?”

  Jack chuckled. “That must have been quite a blow to the head if you don’t remember.”