by HELEN HARDT
She couldn’t help but return his roguish grin. “Evidently, we still do. But really. It’s been twenty years. There’s so much about each other that we don’t now. That we need to learn.”
“We’ll have fun learning.” He reached across the table and took her hand, massaging her palm gently with his thumb. “I want to know everything about you, Kath. Every single thing. I want to know what kind of dressing you like on your salad. What you like to watch on TV. What kind of books you like to read. What makes you laugh, smile, cry. Everything.”
“Oh Brett, that’s lovely.” Her eyes misted. There was so much he didn’t know. So much he needed to know. She opened her mouth to tell him, but lost her nerve.
“I mean it. Every word. I shouldn’t have married Michelle, Kath, when I loved you. I should have chased you down. Found you. Convinced you I could give you what you needed.”
She shook her head. “Brett, we were different people then, with different needs. You deserved the chance to play baseball.”
“I know. I guess I couldn’t compete with Stanford.”
“Oh, it wasn’t just that.” God no, it wasn’t just that. If he only knew…“You and Michelle had a history. And you had a baseball scholarship.”
“That only lasted a year.”
“I know. I’m sorry you had to quit school and work.”
“It wasn’t just that.” He looked down.
“What is it?”
“I injured my knee. Had a few surgeries. I’m fine. I mean, I get around fine, no limp. But it ended my baseball career.”
“Oh, Brett, I’m so sorry.”
Her heart sank. All this time she felt she’d done the right thing, keeping their child a secret. She’d wanted him to have the chance to play baseball. She’d wanted him to have the chances for so many things…the chances he deserved. Now, to find out baseball never would have been possible…Shivers raced up the ladder of her spine. Had she made the wrong decision? Would he have wanted the baby? Would he have wanted her?
“It’s okay. I enjoyed school, but I never would have done as well without you there to help me.”
She smiled and shook her head. “You never needed me, Brett. I shouldn’t tell you this, but Mr. Phillips, the counselor, remember him? He confided in me when he was trying to get me to tutor you that you had scored in the superior range on the state tests.”
“Superior? What’s that mean exactly?”
“It’s one ranking below genius level.”
“I suppose you scored at the genius level?”
“Yes, but just barely. There isn’t that much difference between where you and I scored.”
“Really?” Happiness glowed on his face. His brows lifted. “I wonder why no one ever told me?”
“I told you. I told you how smart you were.”
“Yeah. But I thought you were just being nice. You know, being a good tutor.”
“I’m not that nice a person.”
“Sure you are. You were always nice. I remember that day you took care of me when those guys attacked me. I don’t think anyone’s ever taken such great care of me since.”
She shuddered. That day. That fateful day that had led to their son.
Twenty years earlier
Brett jerked as Kathryn touched the warm washcloth to his cheek.
“I’m sorry. I have to clean it before I can help you.”
They sat together on the sofa in Kathryn’s living room.
“It’s okay. Just stings a little.”
“I know. Again, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, Kath. I’m sorry you had to witness that. Sorry you had to be in the middle of it. All I wanted to do was protect you.”
“You did.”
“Hell no, I didn’t.”
“Well, you couldn’t do much when there were two gorillas holding you, could you? It doesn’t matter. We’re both okay and out of danger.”
“You shouldn’t have had to see that.”
“So they got the wrong guy. I know there’s mob around here. Everyone knows, Brett.”
“At least you don’t have a mob name.”
“Nope. I’ve got a Pollock name.”
Brett reddened. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry that I’m Polish? I’m not.”
“No. Geez. I mean sorry I used to call you a Pollock.”
“Everyone did. Polish jokes were the rage, remember?”
“Yeah, I know. Better a Zurakowsky than a Falcone. The mob’ll never mistake you for someone they’re after.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle. “I actually had that same thought today, during the whole thing. Never have I been so thankful for my Polish roots.”
He laughed with her. “Ow, that hurts!”
“Then stop laughing.” She smiled as she cleansed the rest of the dried blood from his cheek. “Now I just need some anti-bacterial ointment or something. There isn’t much blood. But you’re going to swell up, I bet.”
“Won’t be the first time.”
“You mean they’ve come after you before?”
“Not those three, but others. It’s never the same ones twice. They find out they made a mistake, and then they leave me alone.”
“Who are they after?”
“Brad Falcone. He’s a junior at Bishop Academy. His dad is an attorney with lots of mob ties.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know what to say to that, so she made small talk. “I guess Brad sounds a lot like Brett.”
“Especially when you have the IQ of a tomato.”
Kathryn laughed. “See, you are intelligent, Brett. You can recognize when someone is stupid.”
“I don’t need to be intelligent to recognize a retard, Kath.”
“I suppose not. But you are smart. I’m still amazed that you figured out the whole negative times negative equals positive thing.”
“Are you positive?”
“Yeah. Positive.”
Stupid joke between them, but it made her warm. She and Brett had a private joke.
Silly, but nice. Nice and warm and fuzzy.
Geez, Kathryn, you’re getting all fluffy and perfumey, like Michelle Bates. Can’t have that. Kathryn was not the frou-frou cheerleader type that Brett Falcone liked. She never would be.
Yet, he seemed to like her. He liked kissing her and he was leaning toward her now.
“Just a minute.” She backed away. “I’m not done with you, yet.” She squeezed some anti-bacterial ointment onto her fingers and rubbed it gently over his cheek.
He winced.
“I’m sorry. I’m trying not to hurt you.”
“I know.”
When she finished, she went to the kitchen and scooped Belgian chocolate ice cream into two bowls, then returned and gave one to Brett.
“Here. You look hungry.”
He laughed. “Shit, that hurt. I am, actually.” He took a bite of ice cream and winced. “Hurts to open my mouth, though.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” She scooped some ice cream into her spoon, but on its way to her mouth, the cold custard glopped onto her neck. Nice. Be a clutz in front of the Italian Stallion. Could this day get any better?
Before she could grab a tissue from the box on the end table, Brett leaned forward and licked the ice cream off her warm skin. Tingles shot through her. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought his mouth to hers.
Chocolate dreams…His tongue found hers and danced around it. His mouth hurt, she knew, but it didn’t seem to faze him. The kiss was raw and pure. Raw emotion and pure need. Pure love.
At eighteen, could she really be in love? With the Italian Stallion?
When his lips trailed kisses down her neck, licking up the last of the ice cream, she closed her eyes and sighed.
Yes, I love him. She loved Brett Falcone.
Her hand shaking, she reached toward the crotch of his jeans and touched the bulge underneath. It pulsed against her fingers.
He moaned. “Kath, are you sure?”
“Yes, Brett,” she said, her voice a raspy sigh, “I’m sure.”
Chapter Nine
Nerves. Tingling nerves. Kathryn swallowed as she shut the door behind Brett.
He turned to her and smiled. “I love you, Kath.” He cupped her cheeks. “I want you.”
How easy it would be to surrender to him again, to let the lust take her away from what she faced.
But no. She shook her head. “We need to talk first.”
“Really?” His lips turned slightly downward. “We talked a lot at the restaurant. I want to be with you. Isn’t that what you want?”
God, yes, it’s what I want, what I’ve always wanted. But she had to clear the air before she succumbed again. He deserved that much. “I do want you, Brett. I want to be with you in every way I can, but—” she choked back a sob “—there’s something I have to tell you.”
“What, baby?” He caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. “What is it?”
“Let’s sit.”
She led him to the living room, sat down on the couch, and patted the seat next to her. He sat down, his handsome face racked with concern. “Kath?”
She swallowed again. “Please don’t hate me.”
He touched her arm gently. “I could never hate you. Believe me, I tried. I wanted to hate you when you disappeared. I couldn’t.”
Oh God. Queasiness seized her tummy. He had wanted to hate her for leaving, and he didn’t know why she left. When he found out…
Could she put it off? Have one more night of passion with him before facing the piper?
No. She braced herself and steadied her emotions. He had to be told.
“I loved you then, Brett, and I love you now. I wouldn’t have given you my virginity if I hadn’t—” A sob caught in her throat. She cleared it.
“I know that now.” His deep voice soothed her. “It’s okay.”
“But it’s not okay.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid it will never be okay, what I did.”
“Just tell me, Kath. I love you. That won’t change.”
She didn’t doubt he thought he spoke the truth. But he had no idea what was coming. “I left town for a reason, and I started college late for a reason. The reason is…his name is Michael. He’s my son.”
Brett’s eyes widened. “What? You were pregnant?”
She nodded. “Our son, Brett.”
Brett sat, immobile except for a slight tremble in his full lips.
“I love you. Please say something.”
Several minutes passed. Kath fidgeted, afraid to touch the man she loved.
“Please, Brett.”
“Michael. You know him?”
She shook her head. “He just found me. I haven’t met him yet.”
His features softened for a moment. Did he understand? Would everything be all right? Her hopes dashed when he came to life, his dark eyes blazing.
“Don’t you think I deserved to know?” His handsome face reddened. “Or did you think at all?”
Kathryn gulped. “Of course I thought. All I did was think.”
The anguish so long buried slammed back into her as though it were yesterday. The yearning for a child she’d never know by a man no one knew she loved. The stigma of being the girl in trouble. Not just the girl in trouble, the class valedictorian in trouble. The heartache, the loss, the absolute fear.
“You deserved a chance to play baseball. God knows you had earned it. I had no idea you were going to run and marry Michelle.”
“I wanted you, Kath. You. We could have made a life together with our child.”
“What kind of a life? You had a scholarship to Ohio State, and I had one to Stanford. That’s a heck of a commute, Brett.”
“I would have given up baseball.”
She shook her head. “That’s not what I wanted.”
“What you wanted?” He paced, rage staining his face. “Did you give a thought to what I might want?”
“A child? A child at age eighteen? Who would want that?”
“I had one the next year, anyway. What would it have mattered?”
Kathryn balled her hands into fists. “Maybe it’s not what I wanted. Did that occur to you? Maybe I wanted to go to Stanford, then to medical school. That had always been my dream. Do you have any idea how hard med school is on married people? Over half of the ones I knew ended up divorced. Would you have wanted that?”
The sadness in his beautiful dark eyes haunted her.
“You didn’t want our child?”
Nausea gripped her insides. “That’s not what I meant, Brett. Of course I wanted our child. I still want our child. But I knew another family could give him more than either you or I could at that time.”
“Damn it, Kath.” His fist came down on her coffee table. “I never imagined you could betray me like that. Whether you were right or wrong, I had a right to be involved in the decision.”
She said nothing. What could she say? He was right.
Her head fell into her hands as he walked silently out of her living room, out of her home, out of her life.
Kathryn sat in her car and fingered the delicate note Brett had given her two weeks before. A tear fell onto the discolored paper. What had she expected? That he’d understand? She’d kept a child from the man she loved.
He’d walked out without kissing her, without making plans to see her again. She’d enlisted her babysitter to take Maya to soccer practice in the days following. She couldn’t face him. Not yet. She would eventually tell him how to get in touch with Michael, and perhaps they could regain a friendship. But she had no doubt lost him as a lover, as a soul mate. That she had betrayed him pierced her heart like a poisoned dagger.
She placed a gentle kiss on the note before folding it and placing it back in her purse.
She cleared her throat, choking away more tears, and turned the ignition.
The rap on her window startled her.
Brett.
She wiped her eyes and rolled down the window.
His beautiful eyes were sunken and sad. “Hi, Kath.”
She sniffed. “Hi.”
“Can we talk?”
“I’m on my way out, as you can see. Maybe later?”
“Please?” He walked around the car, opened the passenger door, and sat down.
“I’m on my way to meet someone.” Our son. I’m on my way to meet our son.
“Can it wait a few minutes?”
She shook her head. No, it can’t wait. I’m already twenty years late. “What do you want, Brett?”
He tentatively touched her hand. Sparks slid over her flesh. Always sparks, always with Brett. Never with anyone else.
“I want to apologize.”
Her heart jolted. “Apologize? You have nothing to apologize for. This was all me.”
His full lips quivered and he shook his head. “I was only thinking about myself. I didn’t think for a minute about what you went through. I wish I had been there for you. I wish you had told me.”
Kathryn gulped and nodded. “I wish I had, too. I did what I thought was best at the time for both of us. But I was wrong. You had a right to be involved in the decision, whether or not you loved me. I didn’t know you did.”
“I know. I should have told you.”
“It’s okay. We both made mistakes.”
He squeezed her hand. “And we’ll probably make more. One thing I know though. You’re the one I want to be with when I make them, if you’ll have me.”
Tears welled in her eyes. He still wanted her?
“I’ve waited twenty years for you, Kath. I don’t want to wait any longer.” He caught a tear on her cheek with his index finger.
“Oh, Brett.” She sniffed back her tears, her heart soaring toward the moon. She leaned toward him and brushed her lips over his. “Buckle up, then.”
He complied. “Where are we going?”
She smiled. “To meet our son.”
About the Author
Helen Hardt is an
attorney and stay-at-home mom turned award-winning romance author and freelance fiction editor. She met her real-life hero in law school, and they live in Colorado with their two teenage sons. Helen writes contemporary, historical, paranormal, and erotic romance for several publishers. Her non-writing interests include Harley rides with her husband, attending her sons’ sports and music performances, traveling, and Taekwondo (she’s a blackbelt.) Visit Helen at:
www.helenhardt.com
www.helenhardt.blogspot.com
www.romanceeditor.blogspot.com
