by Dawn Temple
“Shayna, are you aware that Walker isn’t the only one Patty’s threatening to expose?”
She squinted warily. “Does she have something on you, too?”
“No. Your dad.”
Her eyelids closed, and she nodded in resignation. “What’s she saying?” she asked softly.
“She claims he kidnapped you and that she never went to the police because he threatened to kill you if she did.”
Her eyes went as wide and round as silver dollars, fierce despite the shine of tears. “That’s not true!”
“Shayna, you were only seven. How can you be sure?”
“Because I was there.”
“Unfortunately, my secretary e-mailed me information this morning that seems to support Patty’s claims.” No longer able to resist his need to comfort her, he cupped his hands around her trembling shoulders. “There’s no record of an adoption, yet you have his name.”
“It’s not illegal to change your name.”
“No, but it is illegal for one person to have two birth certificates.”
Tears clung to her lower lids, but she somehow kept them from falling. “They wouldn’t let me enroll in school without one.”
“So he forged one?”
“Yes, but I swear that’s the one and only time we ever broke the law.”
“He took a child he didn’t have legal custody of across state lines, Shayna. That’s a very serious crime.”
“He did have custody. CPS assigned him as my temporary guardian because Patty was in jail.”
“If he had court-approved custody, then why did he forge your documentation?”
“He called the Boston Social Service offices several times, trying to get copies of the court records, but they were so swamped, it was weeks before he even spoke to an actual caseworker, and she couldn’t locate my file. School had already started, so he had the fake birth certificate made. It was supposed to be a temporary fix. We didn’t expect the move to be permanent.”
“Why did he bring you to Tennessee in the first place?”
“A couple of days after they awarded him custody, his grandfather, who’d raised him, got sick. We went to the prison and told Patty where we were going and why. James gave her Papa Joe’s phone number and told her to call when she got her act together, but she never did. After that first year, we realized she probably wasn’t ever coming back, but by then, the whole town had accepted us as father and daughter. It would have been too confusing and too difficult to tell the truth at that point.”
She finally lost her battle against the tears. A single drop fell against her cheek. Kyle raised his hands to her face, using his thumbs to wipe away the moisture.
“We didn’t hurt anybody,” she continued, sadness making her voice gravelly. “Patty obviously didn’t want me, and at that time she’d told me my birth father wasn’t even in the picture. In the end, what we did was best for everyone. The county—who must have never found my missing file because we never heard from them—had one less unwanted kid to deal with, Papa Joe had his son around to take care of him in his final days and I finally had a family. How can that be wrong?”
“I’m afraid that what’s right and what’s legal aren’t always the same thing. And in this case, even though Miller’s intentions were good, his actions were illegal.”
“But it was so many years ago, and he’s gone now. Surely such a minor crime doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Under normal circumstances, probably not, but if someone with enough influence pressed the matter—”
“Someone like Dr. Walker?”
“Yeah.” Damn. Sometimes this job really sucked. “If all this became public knowledge, Walker’s reputation won’t be the only one to suffer. James Miller will be branded a criminal. What do you think the good citizens of Land’s Cross will think of him then?”
“That’s horrible.” She pushed against his chest, breaking his hold and making him realize he’d been comforting himself as much as her. “You’d destroy the reputation of a wonderful man just to satisfy a malicious, greedy client?”
Her words were like an arrow through his conscience. “We’re not trying to destroy anyone’s reputation. We’re doing our best to circumvent a blackmail threat in a manner that ensures Patty doesn’t go to jail and no one’s secrets are revealed. In the process, you’ll receive a generous settlement.”
“I don’t care about his money. I was perfectly happy before your client started playing God with my life.”
“Walker didn’t start this. Patty did.”
“And I’m supposed to just go along with Walker’s grand plan to fix everything? Just how big an idiot does that man think I am?”
“We never intended to insult your intelligence. Honestly, we merely underestimated your objection to what we viewed as a simple, straightforward transaction. But you have a good point. I would never sign anything without a thorough review and shouldn’t have expected you to either.”
She stopped her pacing and gawked at him. He enjoyed the rare treat of seeing her off guard.
“My apologies for not allowing you the necessary time to review the deal. But fortunately, this weather has rectified that. I checked with the airline this morning and I can’t get a flight out until next week, which gives you ample time to consult with an attorney.”
Apparently recovered from her shock, she folded her arms across her chest and studied him. Kyle had to fight the urge to scoop her up and kiss her.
“And what if my lawyer agrees that this whole mess is a bunch of B.S. and supports my decision to decline your client’s offer?”
“Then I’d recommend you find a different attorney.”
“One who sees things your way?”
“No.” He deliberately hardened his voice. It was imperative she understand the seriousness of the situation. “One who understands that taking this deal is the only option available if you want to maintain your normal life.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No, it’s good advice.” He softened his tone again. Last thing he needed was for pride or anger to keep her from recognizing his olive branch. “Take advantage of the time, and get a professional in your corner. You’re going to need it.”
On the counter behind him, the timer dinged, signaling an end to this round—and letting him know the bread was finished rising.
“You can contact your attorney on Monday. You do have an attorney, right?”
“Yes,” she snapped.
“Good. I have another copy you can give him to review.”
“Aren’t you helpful.” She plopped back into her chair, wearing a mutinous scowl, like a child who’d been reprimanded for a crime she thought she’d gotten away with. Luckily, he’d gotten a pretty good handle on her in the past twenty-four hours and knew that while she wasn’t happy with the situation, she would do what needed to be done.
Kyle bit down on the corner of his lip to keep from grinning as he brushed butter on the dough before squeezing the bread pan into the oven, along with the green beans. When he straightened, he caught his reflection in the microwave glass. A huge flour smear covered his right cheek.
He cut Shayna a glance, and she looked him dead in the eye. Devious woman. The smug expression on her beautiful face dared him to complain, so he refrained from even wiping away the mess.
The flour wasn’t the only thing he’d noticed about his appearance. Two days’ worth of stubble covered his chin, his cowlick had sprung to life and the borrowed coveralls had stretched out and now hung lifelessly off his body. Time to kick the bargain-box charity-case look.
“We’ve got about an hour before dinner. If you’ll loan me a razor, I’d like to shower and shave.”
“Uh, sure. I’ve got a spare razor upstairs.” Shayna stood, a bit thrown by the sudden shift in topic. “Be right back.”
Somewhat dazed, she headed upstairs. Was it just her, or did every conversation with that man follow a circular pattern? Why in the world did she ever encour
age him to work on his social skills? Though, she had to admit, the way he’d touched her while talking had been nice.
She’d been surprised by the warmth and tenderness of his fingers as they’d wiped away her tears. And when she’d pushed against his chest, she’d been unable to erase the memory of his tight, tanned skin—skin she was dying to see again. To touch and taste and tease.
By the time she made it to her bathroom, her imagination had her heart racing like a virgin who’d just crawled into the backseat for the first time. Who knew she had such a weakness for arrogant, annoying attorneys?
Digging through the drawer next to the sink, she unearthed a spare disposable razor. She wasn’t sure what worried her worse—the sexy, clean-shaven Kyle she remembered from California or the sexy, rumpled Kyle who’d been driving her crazy all day. Both were a danger to her peace of mind.
After a quick check of her hair and a refresher on her lipstick, she ducked back into her room.
After all the fights and battles she’d witnessed in the first seven years of her life, she’d never been one for arguments and tense discussions; yet somehow, twice in two days, she’d stood her ground and emphatically disagreed with Kyle. Amazing how good, how freeing, it felt to speak her piece and not back down from her opinions.
Maybe she’d simply been waiting all these years for an issue important enough to make her step out of her comfort zone. Or maybe Kyle’s “don’t take it personally” attitude provided the safety net she’d always been lacking. Whatever the reason, it was nice to know the world wouldn’t end if Shayna Miller asserted herself.
Even so, she was smart enough to realize a couple of vocal exchanges hadn’t changed anything. Neither she nor Kyle intended to budge on the issues. She did have to admit, though, calming down and having Chester Warfield—the attorney who’d handled Daddy’s will—review Walker’s agreement was a smart idea. Not that she planned to cave, but it couldn’t hurt to know all her options.
Even though she’d been very young when she’d lived with Patty, she’d never forget the whiplash lifestyle created by her mother’s constant moneymaking schemes. The woman had constantly ranted about money, about how being rich was the key to being happy. Of course, even when she managed to get her hands on some cash, Patty was never happy. And neither was Shayna.
Not until she and James had moved to Land’s Cross. They’d never had much money, but they’d always been happy. He and Papa Joe had taught her that love and peace, family and friends, were more valuable than money.
How could she allow Walker or Patty or even Kyle to twist the past and paint James Miller as a criminal?
She imagined that at first no one would really care that he hadn’t been her natural father, but once the facts became clear, that he’d never legally adopted her, that he wasn’t even her stepfather, then things would get murky.
Folks who had known them for nearly twenty years would begin to question everything. All his accomplishments, all the good he’d done for this community, the kids he’d mentored, everything would be overshadowed by the cloud of suspicion.
Amidst all that worry and confusion, would she be able to make people see that he’d been a decent, honorable man all his life, that when most people would have walked away, he stepped up and saved her?
Her heart insisted that, yes, the people who mattered would understand. But her mind was harder to convince.
Chapter Seven
The kitchen smelled like a dream. To honor the scrumptious meal Kyle had created from nothing, Shayna dug out a linen tablecloth and the good dishes, which hadn’t seen the light of day in seven years. After arranging two place settings, she added a couple candles and a clutch of black-eyed Susans rescued from the frozen flower beds.
The overall effect was beautiful and festive. And romantic. She nibbled her lower lip. This was not good. The last thing she needed was more temptation.
She scooped her hair out of the danger zone and leaned forward to blow out the candles, but the sound of footsteps in the den froze her lips in midpucker. If she extinguished the flames now, he’d know about her second thoughts. Hating the idea of exposing indecision to such a decisive man, Shayna pinned on what she hoped was a gracious hostess expression.
When he rounded the corner and came into view, her breath lodged in her throat. Man, oh man. He looked as good as dinner smelled.
He was fresh from the shower, with his wet hair looking a few shades darker than normal and combed back from his face. The bump on his forehead was barely noticeable. His jaw looked as smooth as a plump, ripe plum. Yummy.
The coveralls were gone, replaced by the suit she would have bet money had been ruined. The shirt, looking suspiciously as if he’d hunted up her iron and put it to good use, was open at the neck and untucked over his trousers, which appeared an inch or so shorter than the last time she’d seen them. His feet were bare. Goodness, the man even had sexy feet. Too unfair.
Searching for her voice, Shayna ran her tongue over her lips. “Nice.” She mimicked his earlier compliment, hoping it pleased him as much as it had pleased her.
“Thanks.” He nodded at the festive table. “Looks great.”
“After all your hard work, it would have been a sin to eat on paper plates.” Thankful her voice and her brainpower had kicked back in, she waved a hand toward the table. “I wasn’t sure about the candles, but in this house, real food is cause for celebration.”
“I bet.” He laughed softly as he squeezed into the kitchen and cracked open the oven. “The bread’s done.”
As they worked together to get the food on the table, a relaxed, easy camaraderie grew between them. She guessed she wasn’t the only one who’d come to dinner determined to put aside their disagreements and enjoy a pleasant evening.
She popped the cork on the wine she had bought to take to Lindy’s and poured them each a glass. Kyle held her chair then took the seat adjacent to hers and lifted his glass. “A toast.” He paused while she followed suit. “To good food, good company and no shoptalk.”
“Amen,” she agreed, clinking her glass gently against his.
For several minutes the conversation stopped as they fixed their plates and savored those first few bites.
“Kyle, this is amazing. Talk about missing your calling.”
“I actually considered going to culinary school at one point.”
“But you were too hungry for all that money and power, right?”
“Don’t forget prestige.” He shook his head with a wry smirk. “In my defense, I was only eighteen.”
She tapped her fist on the table like a gavel. “Innocent by reason of youth. Nobody should be held accountable for bad decisions made in the first twenty years of life.”
“You would have made an excellent lawyer,” he teased, popping a bite of ham into his mouth.
“The last thing the world needs is another lawyer. Think I’ll stick with social services, despite the lack of power, prestige or money. Besides, the world always needs more social workers.”
“Because the work’s too hard, and very few people have the strength to go the distance. That’s why so many kids fall through the cracks—the way you did.”
She wrinkled her nose, hating the fact that he was right. “How come you know so much about the career span of social workers?”
“Back in L.A., I do a bit of pro bono ad litem work, representing kids who find themselves at the mercy of the court. The turnover rate for caseworkers is ridiculous.”
Another piece of the Kyle Anderson puzzle, a very appealing piece. Those were some lucky kids, to have Kyle fighting on their side. Good thing he was stubborn and obsessive and representing Steven Walker, or she’d be in real danger of falling for him.
“So why did you choose such a tough field?” he asked.
“Most kids don’t get as lucky as I did, and while I can’t solve all their problems or single-handedly fix the system, I can make sure that the kids who come to me know someone cares about them. I can show
them that they don’t have to spend the rest of their lives paying for their parents’ mistakes.”
“You’re truly incredible, Shayna. All that compassion and conviction will make you an amazing role model for the kids you work with. You’ll go the distance. I’m sure of it.”
Flustered by his kind words, she dropped her roll onto her plate and hid her trembling hands in her lap. “I swear, Kyle, sometimes you’re so charming I think you must be part southern.”
“It’s not charm. It’s the truth.” His hand tenderly captured hers, his thumb tantalizing her palm. “And for the record, southern men don’t have a monopoly on complimenting smart, beautiful, giving women.”
Was it possible for bones to actually melt? Sure seemed like hers were. Even knowing it was a bad idea, Shayna couldn’t seem to keep her hand from flipping over, her fingers tangling with his. “I think the wine might be going to our heads.”
“I’m dead sober and dying to kiss you.” His voice was so strong and deep, Shayna felt the words all the way down to her toes.
It seemed to her they’d been building to this moment since his arrival. “Are you having as much trouble as I am remembering why that would be a bad idea?”
Kyle tunneled his free hand into her hair. “I’ve been fantasizing about feeling your hair draped over my body.”
Shayna braced her hand on his knee and leaned toward Kyle’s lips. “Any spot in particular?”
“Oh, yeah.” His mouth brushed her skin, traveling slowly across her cheek. Her fingers delved into the thick hair at his nape and, tired of denying herself, she turned his head and captured his lips.
The reaction was immediate, explosive. Heavenly.
Kyle quickly took control, his lips exploring hers until he found the perfect fit. Without breaking the kiss, he plucked her out of her chair and set her across his lap, matching her softness against his hardness, letting her feel how much he enjoyed kissing her. She gasped, and he took the kiss even deeper, to a place she thought existed only in love songs.
His right hand skimmed up her thigh, under the hem of her sweater. His skin felt cool against her stomach as his palm eased up to cup her breast, exploring her size and shape. His thumb grazed the tip, and her nipple snapped to attention.
