Child by Chance

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  She didn’t invite him.

  Which just made him want it more.

  * * *

  IT HAD TO END. She knew that. But an extra hour wasn’t going to hurt. Amazingly, she’d done what Tatum told her to do. She’d allowed herself to have fun.

  So tomorrow, when the teenager asked, she could make her happy.

  She seemed to be making Sherman Paulson happy, too. In spite of this being the time of year of the anniversary of his wife’s death. Talia’s heart went out to him.

  “Wow!” he said after one sip of Tanner’s wine. “That’s good stuff.”

  Not exactly how a connoisseur might have said it, but she wasn’t one, either, so she smiled. “I know. Tanner doesn’t do anything halfway.”

  “Tanner. Tatum. Talia. What’s your other brother’s name?”

  “Thomas.” She’d seen him for the first time in more than a decade the previous summer. They all had. He’d gotten married while they were all in New York together where he worked as a stockbroker. Talia had two sisters-in-law whom she really liked.

  “Your mom obviously liked names that start with a T.”

  “My mother was an egocentric who liked the attention we got her.” Oh, God. She didn’t just say that. Putting down her wineglass, Talia froze. Hoping that he was going to let her statement pass.

  She didn’t talk about her past, her mother, to anyone. Ever. Had never even come close to a slip.

  This man was not good for her. Not good at all.

  And yet, she didn’t want him to go.

  “What about your dad? Didn’t he have a say in your names?”

  “Dads. There were four of them.” She didn’t need to answer him. She needed to keep her mouth shut.

  Something was happening to her. The life she was supposed be getting in line was spinning out of control.

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you see her much?”

  “Not since I was sixteen. That’s when Tanner got custody of us three younger kids.” Something deep inside her was fighting to get out. Talia fought to keep it down where it belonged.

  She was not going to let her new life be ruined.

  “He’s a lot older than you, then?”

  “Seven years.”

  “He took custody of three younger siblings when he was twenty-three?”

  “I told you he didn’t do anything halfway.” None of them did. Thomas had graduated from Harvard at the top of his class. Tatum was graduating at the top of hers. And Talia had made it to the top of the pole.

  “Do you know where your mother is now?”

  The ocean roared softly in the distance. Reminding her that she was more than Tammy Malone’s daughter. More than a collection of skin and bones. She was a human being—just as much as anyone else.

  And just because she’d made stupid choices didn’t mean she wasn’t smart.

  “Dead.”

  She could feel him watching her in the darkness. And had the strangest urge to bury her face in his shoulder and let him hold her. Just hold her.

  She had a feeling that if she asked him to, he would. Just hold her. A novelty in her world.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Her mother had been willing to sell her for a fix. One fix was all she’d been worth. And still, Talia had cared about her.

  “She’s at peace now,” was all she said. No one would ever understand her mixed emotions toward Tammy. She didn’t understand them herself. She abhorred everything the woman had been. Abhorred what she’d done. Yet Tammy had been the only parent she’d ever known.

  Thank God Talia had saved Kent from the same fate.

  * * *

  SHERMAN PUT HIS empty wineglass down on the small table between them.

  “It’s late, I should get going.” Ben and Sandy didn’t mind staying late. Ben, a website developer, worked from home, and Sandy, a nurse, worked weekends at a rehab center.

  She nodded. He could see the shadow of her face in the darkness. Would this be it for them? One incredible evening?

  “I’m...I... You don’t need to worry that...my family... They’re good people.”

  Of course they are were the first words that sprang to his lips. They produced you. But Sherman took his pause to consider what she’d said. And why.

  “I don’t think any less of you for what you’ve just told me.” He spoke softly, slowly, needing her to hear the sincerity in his voice. In him. “To the contrary, you and your brothers and sister...it sounds like you had a tough time growing up and look at you now—a college graduate going for your master’s. Your brother is a damned good vintner in a place where the competition is fierce. And from what Kent says, your little sister’s pretty much perfect. Smart and nice, too, were his actual words.”

  “It’s just... I don’t... I’ve never...”

  And with a rush of heat, he thought he understood. “You don’t tell people about her.”

  “Right.”

  But she’d told him. And he couldn’t help but draw a conclusion from that.

  She liked him. More than a little. Maybe as much as he liked her.

  His penis got hard in time with the softening of his heart. Could he really be this lucky? To find his perfect match at thirty-eight?

  “My father was in the Gulf War.” He needed her to know him at his worst. “I was thirteen when he deployed. I was on a city debate team—he’d signed me up so I’d have a positive outlet for my constant need to argue, he’d said—and had one competition standing in between me and a trip to Washington, DC, to compete before Supreme Court justices.”

  “Quite an accomplishment for a thirteen-year-old boy.” He could hear a smile in her voice. And sex, too.

  Another half glass of wine would be good.

  “Yeah, well, I was pissed as hell at him for going. My last words to him as he left were to tell him that all he ever did was let me down and to not bother coming back on my account.”

  “Kids say things they don’t mean.”

  He sat forward, knees spread, forearms resting on his knees, and stared at the darkness surrounding his shoes. “He was killed six weeks after he got over there. Drove his jeep over a land mine.”

  And Sherman, a teenage boy sobbing over his father’s casket with words ringing in his head that he couldn’t take back, had made a promise to the man he’d idolized, that he would spend the rest of his life not only watching his words, but also his attitude. He would never again let negative emotion control his actions. He would always look for the positive. Spread the positive. Make lemonade out of lemons, just like they said at the Lemonade Stand.

  “I don’t know what to say.” Her soft voice was like a salve for the old wound.

  “My words didn’t kill him,” Sherman said slowly. “But his death made me the man I am. And that’s something I don’t tell anyone.”

  He couldn’t hear what her silence was saying to him.

  “I’d like to see you again. Personally, I mean.” Rubbing his hands slowly back and forth, he waited for her to seal his fate.

  “I...”

  She had doubts. He felt a “no” coming. He had one shot.

  “I wasn’t in love with my wife.”

  “I...”

  She was looking at him, lovely in her black sheath and shawl, though he was seeing more by memory in the darkness. He could smell the hint of flowers that filled the air around her.

  “But I fear that after only two weeks and one date, I might be falling for you.”

  “No. Please. Don’t do that.”

  “I’m fairly certain I don’t have a say in the matter.” Crazy. His whole life was based on carefully thought-out choices, answers, plans.

  “It’s just because I’m your first da
te in so long.”

  “You’re my first date in so long because I haven’t met anyone else who interested me. I’m thirty-eight years old, Talia. I’m way beyond acting rashly. I’m also not one to waste my time. If you’re not interested, just say so and I’ll be on my way. And hope that none of this will affect your willingness to help my son.”

  “Of course it won’t. It’s just...you don’t know me.”

  “I have a feeling a lifetime with you wouldn’t be enough to know you completely. You’re like the ocean you love so much, with depths that I can only imagine, but would very much like to explore.”

  “I don’t know what to—”

  “Are you seeing someone?” He hadn’t asked before. Hadn’t really cared. Until it dawned on him that he might be too late.

  “No. I just...”

  She sat back with her glass in her hand, as though she wasn’t going anywhere soon. And as long as she was there, open to him being there, he wasn’t going to leave.

  “I’m not imagining that you’re attracted to me.” Guys knew these things.

  “No.”

  He’d never met a more recalcitrant woman. And yet that attracted him, too.

  “Does the fact that I have a son bother you?”

  “No, of course not! I just—”

  “I’m not asking for a commitment, Talia. Just a chance.”

  “I want a chance.” The words were so soft he barely heard them. But the longing in them was clear.

  Standing, Sherman placed a hand on either side of her chair, leaned over and kissed her. He’d been thinking just a quick touch, enough to speak of things yet to come. But when his lips touched hers, he almost lost his balance.

  Her lips were full, soft, and they greeted him like a lost lover, caressing him with tenderness. He tasted her hunger. Heard her moan.

  And had to leave.

  Before he scooped her up and took her to bed.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  AS A TREAT to his son, who made it through the week with only two minor incidents, Sherman got a room in Beverly Hills Friday night after the Lakers game. Today—Saturday—he was taking his son to a movie premiere and hoped that Kent wouldn’t cause too much of a fuss about having to dress up, eat finger food and sit with adults he didn’t know while they watched what he hoped would be a drama he’d enjoy. Something about a guy lost at sea. The film was rated G so he figured if it was suitable for kids, Kent would find something of interest in it.

  He’d taken the premiere tickets from the stash of perks at the firm with the express purpose of getting to know the producer, a man who’d openly expressed views similar to those held by one of Sherman’s candidates. He was hoping for a sizable donation as his candidate had just recently been chosen as his party’s choice for the national senate race.

  A change of gears that would have been celebrated for a week when Brooke was alive and that had gone largely unnoticed in Sherman’s current personal life.

  He wasn’t sure if Talia had any interest in politics. Let alone any knowledge of the inner workings of the machinery that drove them. He hadn’t spoken to her at all since bolting after their kiss Wednesday night. He was purposely giving her breathing room. A chance to figure out if she wanted to explore her interest in him.

  And giving himself a chance to cool off, too.

  But he’d heard from his son that she’d aced some exam she’d taken. And that Tatum had been with her when she’d picked him up on Friday.

  “Jason says that the Lakers have a chance of making it all the way this year,” Kent was saying as Sherman led them out of the hotel elevator to the parking garage where they’d left the BMW the night before.

  “They have a chance every year,” he said, preoccupied with getting them to the mall to buy a new pair of shoes for his son, who’d just announced that he couldn’t wear the ones that Sherman had packed because they hurt his toes.

  “Yeah, but Jason says that with their three-point percentage they’re a real contender this year.”

  From the time he’d picked Kent up the night before it had been “Jason” this and “Jason” that. As he thought about it, he realized the boy’s name had been coming up all week.

  “Why don’t you ask Jason if he wants to come over sometime,” he suggested.

  “I don’t think he’s allowed to leave the Stand right now,” Kent said. “He even has school there. His dad’s a real jerk and might kidnap him. He put his mom in the hospital.”

  Sherman wasn’t sure if it was the content of the words or the matter-of-fact way his son said them that took him aback.

  “Anyway, you never said why I need new shoes,” Kent said, climbing into the front passenger seat as Sherman threw their bag onto the backseat. “I can just go barefoot until we get home. And get new shoes online.” Kent wasn’t a shopper.

  “Because we’re going to a movie premiere this afternoon and you can’t do that barefoot,” he said.

  “MP,” Kent said.

  “What?”

  “MP on the calendar, that’s what you added on Thursday for Saturday afternoon.”

  He hadn’t realized Kent was actually paying attention to the calendar anymore.

  “Right.”

  He crossed his arms. “I guess it’s another work thing I’m being dragged to.”

  “It’s a movie premiere, Kent. Most kids would be excited to have the chance to see one.”

  “I know. Jason says I’m lucky my dad takes me to work instead of hitting me.”

  Sherman had no idea how to respond to that.

  And that was it. No fit. No belligerence. Just a look of bored resignation. Sherman decided he liked this Jason kid.

  * * *

  WORKING THE EVENING as well as the day shift Saturday, Talia took a quick lunch break and ran down to the food court in the mall to grab a salad. The extra shift was going to put her on a tight schedule to get her homework done, but that was the idea. Tight schedules forced her to focus on the life she’d chosen.

  Not dwell on one she couldn’t have.

  Sherman Paulson hadn’t loved his wife. He was falling for her. He knew she was attracted to him. He thought she was like the ocean and he wanted to explore her depths forever.

  Wow. That had been a good one. A line unlike any she’d ever heard. The first one that had made its way through her protective armor since she was sixteen and believed her high-school teacher when he’d told her that she had the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.

  Turned out, he’d just had a thing for young girls.

  “Ms. Malone!”

  There was no way she’d just imagined her son’s voice. Then she saw him, his hand holding his father’s as he jumped up and down, waving at her, trying to get her attention. “Ms. Malone!”

  Talia stared at him. Smiled. And then raised her gaze to his father—whose intent stare melted her bones.

  “What are you doing here?” Kent asked as they reached her.

  “Are you alone?” Sherman asked at the same time.

  “I work here,” she said. And then looked at the man who’d been keeping her up at night. “Yes, I’m alone. I’m on lunch break.”

  “You work here?” He was frowning.

  “On weekends.” She named the store. “I’m a sales associate.” He seemed confused, as though it was disturbing to him that this was a side of her he didn’t know about.

  Her stomach sank.

  What was he going to think when he found out about the job she’d held before this one?

  She was going to have to tell him if they continued to see each other. About Vegas at least. That wasn’t something she’d be able to keep secret. It wasn’t just a onetime event. It had been her life.

  “We’re going to a movie premiere,” Kent said
with a groan. “You want to come?”

  “I’m working.”

  Before she even thought about exploring any kind of friendship with Kent’s father, she was going to have to tell him what he was getting into. At least as far as her stripper past was concerned.

  It was the decent thing to do. And there was no reason not to except to spare herself, and she was done putting herself first.

  “How about a late dinner?” Sherman asked, his gaze practically devouring her features.

  “I—”

  “Yeah!” Kent said. “It’s Saturday. I get to stay up late. We could have a fire and show her the colors, couldn’t we, Dad?”

  “Yes, son, we could.” Sherman’s gaze never left her face. His smile was warming her skin quite uncomfortably.

  For a second—okay, to be honest, for hours on and off since Wednesday night—she toyed with the idea of maintaining a friendship with the Paulson men. Who stood to be hurt except for her? They’d never know she’d given birth to Kent.

  And she could have a peripheral role in her son’s life. Beyond the few months he’d be at the Lemonade Stand.

  The boy was already showing marked improvement in his attitude and Sara had said he was opening up in their group sessions with the other boys. He was competitive when they played games but didn’t exhibit signs of aggression when he lost.

  “Talia?” Sherman moved them to the wall, away from the crowds of people who were walking around them on both sides.

  “I, um...”

  “I’ll grill steaks,” he said. “And maybe you could bring the rest of that bottle of wine?”

  She could see Kent’s room.

  And after the little boy went to bed? What would it hurt to savor, just for a few more minutes, that lovely, sexy, nerve-racking feeling this man miraculously coaxed from her body?

  “I’m not off until eight. Which puts me home a little after nine.” Tatum would tell her to go. Wouldn’t she?

  Heck, Baby Tay had had her married to the guy and him finding out she was Kent’s mom and forgiving her for everything.

  “That works for us. I can have everything ready to go when you get there.”