The Secret Son

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  He didn’t falter. Didn’t stop. Just continued to hold her against him and thrust that powerful body into hers—making her his and making him hers in the most elemental way.

  No matter what else was wrong in their lives, in her life or his, this sublime joining felt ordained. Completely right. Something beyond the normal realm of their experiences.

  She and Jack. Together. A piece of heaven.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “WHAT’S WRONG?”

  Erica didn’t know how to answer the question. Jack had been in town a week, and it had been the best week she’d had since the first one she’d spent with him. They’d had fun. Buying furniture. Talking over dinner without the dagger of time hanging over their heads. Having no fear of saying goodbye, because it wasn’t forever.

  Making love. That part of her life was unbelievable.

  In the dark, sitting on a park bench halfway between his home and hers, she wished they hadn’t decided to take this walk. That they’d said their goodbyes at the restaurant and she was home in the privacy of her bedroom, where no one knew what she did or thought.

  Home with her son—their son—sleeping across the hall.

  She didn’t know how much longer she could be with Jack, spending incredibly intimate moments with him, and not tell him that he had a son. The omission was growing into a barrier between them. One she couldn’t break down. Or climb over.

  “I don’t know,” she said when the silence was becoming more uncomfortable than the truth. “Why does anything have to be wrong?” It was a stalling tactic, both an honest query and a plea.

  “We’ve seen each other four times this week. You’ve become more reticent each time.”

  “Maybe just knowing there’ll be other days to discuss things, I don’t feel the push to do everything at once.”

  She hoped he’d accept the explanation.

  And that he wouldn’t.

  On the surface, things were perfect between them. They had it all. Each other and freedom. Companionship and no risk.

  She didn’t think she could go on much longer.

  His shoulder touching hers, he turned and looked at her beneath the September moonlight shining through the trees. Another time she would’ve welcomed the opportunity to see inside him. Tonight she looked away.

  “It’s not the conversation,” he said. “It’s this.” He gestured between them. “There’s something missing. Or am I imagining things?”

  “You aren’t imagining anything.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “Is it just me who’s having problems?” she asked.

  He shook his head.

  Tears burned the back of her throat, although she wouldn’t let them fall. “What’s the matter with us?”

  “Maybe it’s the proximity. What we had was so…close because there was always a clock ticking. You want what you can’t have.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “No.”

  “So what is it?”

  “I honestly don’t know.” He shook his head. Held her hand. “I can’t think sometimes for wanting you.”

  Erica had never been a woman to heat up easily, so she was still a bit shocked at how readily he could arouse her. Just that one sentence and she was on fire. “Me, too.”

  “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

  Erica shrugged, taking comfort from the touch of their shoulders. “I love being with you,” she said, delving deep inside. “You make me feel better than I’ve ever felt before. Life is exciting and full of promise I didn’t even know existed.”

  “And that’s a problem?”

  “No.” She grinned at him, but sobered quickly. “I can’t wait to be with you. And as soon as we’re apart, I’m looking forward to the next time.”

  “And that’s the problem.” It wasn’t a question now.

  “Maybe.” There was so much swirling around inside her. A need to share her son with his father. A stronger need to protect all three of the men in her life. From her mistakes. From each other.

  The need to be free from the kind of risk that caring about Jack imposed—the risk of losing everything all over again.

  “When does enjoyment turn to need? And isn’t need just another word for expectation?”

  “I don’t know.” He sighed. These thoughts were obviously not new to him.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to screw this up for us, break our rules,” she said.

  She was scared to death that he was going to find out about Kevin—and that he wasn’t. How could she be so close to him and yet conceal the most important thing they shared?

  He wasn’t saying anything.

  Enduring the silence as long as she could, she finally said, “I’m not sure where that leaves us.”

  Lost. That’s where. Right where she’d been since Jefferson had moved out. Or more likely, where she’d been since that week in New York when she’d fallen in love, conceived her son and ruined lives.

  “We could go back to only talking on the phone.” Had she been a better person, would she have offered to sever all contact? Wouldn’t that be kinder?

  “Is that what you want?” he asked.

  She thought of Kevin. Of Jefferson. Wondering where love and loyalty would have her go.

  “No.” Because of the secret she had to keep, she had to be completely honest in everything else. Jack deserved that. So did she.

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  The intensity of her relief made no more sense than the rest of her tangled feelings for this man. How could she need to run—and to stay—at the same time?

  “We could limit ourselves to only seeing each other once a week, meet for dinner or something.”

  “I don’t want to do that,” he said.

  Neither did she.

  “We can make a vow not to have any more sex.”

  “I can’t, can you?”

  She looked at him, the broad shoulders, wind-blown hair, the fire burning in those eyes. And thought of the night before, when he’d held her so tenderly. “No.”

  He nodded, stood, held out a hand to her. “Let’s walk.”

  Tension buzzing, Erica got up, eager to have something to do besides sit there and feel control of her life slipping completely away. They set out at a brisk pace, walking mostly residential sidewalks, not all of them lit by streetlights.

  “Do you have a solution?” She’d been almost afraid to ask.

  “No.”

  There was something else they weren’t talking about. Someone else. She wasn’t talking because there was so much she couldn’t say. But equal significance lay in the fact that he wasn’t talking, either.

  And that she was thankful for his silence.

  “I have a son.” She’d meant the words to be uttered softly, not come blurting out like some sort of challenge.

  “I hadn’t forgotten.”

  “He’s a huge part of my life.”

  “I know that, too.” He took her arm as they veered around a missing piece of cement, and then kept her hand in his as they continued to walk. They’d slowed their pace.

  “How can you be part of my life and not be part of his?” Her heart pounded as she traveled into territory too dangerous to navigate without damage.

  She didn’t know what she was looking for—re-assurance that they could pull this off, or some small hope that he’d be able to handle a closer association with Kevin someday?

  “I don’t know.” The words seemed to be torn from him. “But I do know that every time you talk about him I have to distance myself.”

  So much for hope. “Why?”

  “Because if I don’t, I’m going to drive us both crazy looking for all the ways he could possibly get hurt and then attempting to protect him.”

  “Maybe not if you’re aware of that tendency.”

  “What I’m profoundly aware of, more so than most people, is how much danger lurks around every corner. Add to that a very personal awareness of the fact that it
doesn’t just happen to other people, and you have a man who borders on paranoid when it comes to children.”

  She thought of his reaction when she’d mentioned that Kevin was going to start first grade.

  “You lost Melissa, too,” she said. “Your wife. You tried to protect her. Why don’t you feel just as strong a need to protect me?”

  JACK’S HEART missed a beat at Erica’s question. He was silent for a long time.

  “I guess because we don’t have a commitment,” he finally said, knowing the answer was insufficient. “I don’t have the right to tell you what to do.”

  “Doesn’t caring for someone give you that right?”

  He didn’t want to talk about caring, either. Or where it could lead.

  What he wanted to do was walk away fast. So fast he’d be running. The night air was making him claustrophobic—something he’d been feeling a lot recently. A condition he thought he’d beaten a few years ago.

  What he wanted was to lose himself in her arms and never be found again.

  “You’re an adult. You’re able to take care of yourself, which makes you much less vulnerable.”

  His argument was weak. And, he was fairly certain, completely invalid, as well. He just knew that he couldn’t think about losing Melissa and continue to see Erica. And he couldn’t stop seeing Erica.

  Somehow, through some convoluted kind of logic, he’d figured that if he could at least stay away from the kid, he’d be okay.

  For the moment he was just grateful that Erica had accepted his feeble attempt at an answer and let the subject drop.

  The problem wasn’t going away. But one of the great things about this new inexplicable relationship was that there was no need to rush.

  TWO NIGHTS LATER, Jack stopped by Erica’s office on his way from a meeting at the Capitol, hoping he’d be in time to catch her. They didn’t have plans to see each other, since she had Kevin that night, but he wanted to say hello before she went home to her son.

  Because it was after five, most of the offices were silent, which gave him the chance to find hers without raising speculation. Erica guarded her privacy carefully, which was the reason he’d never been to her office before. Or at least one of the reasons.

  He wasn’t all that eager to have their relationship become fodder for office gossip, either. Other than that first week in Washington several months ago, back when they’d thought those few days an anomaly, they’d stayed away from restaurants where she might be recognized by politicians and their staff.

  With loosened tie—one of Jack’s complaints about his new job was the business attire he had to wear every day, rather than the casual clothes he was used to—he noticed the light still on under her door and approached with a smile. The door was open a crack. He knocked and pushed it open.

  She was standing in the middle of the room, her back to her desk, facing a part of the room Jack couldn’t see at first. She was wearing an olive skirt and jacket with a cream-colored blouse. Her shoes matched her suit. And her legs…they were magnificent.

  “Hey,” he greeted her.

  Erica’s head jerked toward the door, her eyes surprised, as though she hadn’t heard him knock. “Jack!”

  “I was hoping you’d still be here,” he said, sauntering toward her. It had been two days since he’d seen her. Touched her.

  Two days of trying not to think about all the unanswered questions.

  He’d missed her.

  “Jack.” She took a step back, glancing uncomfortably over her shoulder.

  That was when Jack first noticed the couch the door frame had hidden from view.

  He recognized the man sitting there from press photos. And probably a television interview or two. Senator Jefferson Cooley.

  “Jack,” Erica said for the third time. “This is Jefferson. Jeff, Jack.”

  The older man rose from the couch, extended a hand. Because he had absolutely no idea what else to do, Jack shook it.

  “Good to meet you,” Cooley said. “Erica speaks highly of you.”

  Prepared to dislike the man, Jack was a bit perturbed to find that he couldn’t. He found himself impressed with his dignity, instead. Apparently nothing about his relationship with Erica was going to be easy.

  “Probably not as highly as she speaks of you,” Jack admitted honestly. He eyed Jefferson Cooley, knowing it was ridiculous to feel any jealousy at all when he was the man Erica was sleeping with.

  He hadn’t expected the guilt, either, but that he accepted.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, backing up, glancing from one to the other, avoiding Erica’s eyes. “I didn’t realize you were busy, Erica. I’ll talk to you later.”

  It was also ridiculous to be disappointed when Erica didn’t call him back, try to stop him, tell him he was welcome to stay.

  Must be his night for the ridiculous.

  Walking purposefully toward one of his new favorite pubs, he tried not to wonder what was going on in that quiet suite of offices between an ex-husband and wife who were obviously still fond of each other.

  He hated the fact that he had no right to ask. And no right to Erica at all.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “MOM? WHERE ARE YOU?” Kevin walked slowly into Erica’s room Wednesday night. She was standing in front of the closet, cursing herself for forgetting to pick up the laundry. The presence of Jack in her life was not kind to her daily routine—the mundane details of living.

  Her black stretch pants weren’t in her closet. Neither were two of her favorite pairs of slacks.

  “I’m right here, sport,” she said when he missed her by the closet and headed toward the adjoining bathroom. “What’s up?”

  Dressed in slacks and a polo shirt—the tie having been disposed of in deference to the casual evening he was going to spend with his father and Pamela—he passed her four-poster bed and sat on the love seat in the corner of her room. The same place Jefferson had been sitting when she’d told him she was pregnant with another man’s child.

  “I don’t want to go to Daddy’s tonight.”

  Dread seeped through her. “Why not?” she asked, abandoning the closet to join her son on the love seat. She had to restrain herself from pulling him onto her lap. Lately he’d decided he was getting too grown-up to be cuddled. The change was one of many that were slowly breaking her heart.

  “It was better when Daddy came here.”

  “He still comes here.” He’d been there just a couple of nights ago when she’d gone out with Jack.

  The little boy frowned. “Not with the whole family here.”

  Oh, sweetie, how can I help you understand something when I can’t understand it myself? How do I keep you from hurting when I’m hurting so badly, too?

  “Our family is changing, Kev,” she said. “It’s getting bigger, with more houses and more people. You go to Daddy’s sometimes so you can be part of both houses and get to know Pamela, too.”

  The boy was silent, his feet sticking out in front of him.

  “You like Pamela, don’t you, sport?”

  Since Erica genuinely liked the other woman, she figured Kevin would have a hard time not doing so. He shrugged.

  “I know she’s really fond of you,” Erica continued, loving her son so much that selling him on her replacement didn’t even faze her at the moment. “She pays lots of attention to you and she’s always nice, isn’t she?”

  He shrugged again.

  “You’ve said Pamela talks to you and tells you neat stuff.”

  “She does.” He nodded solemnly, his mature expression so at odds with the babyish contours of his face. “I guess I like her.” The admission came reluctantly.

  “So why don’t you want to go?”

  He looked up at her, his lower lip starting to quiver. “I don’t want to leave you all alone.”

  “Oh, Kev, it’s okay,” she said, pulling him into her arms whether that complied with his new rules or not. “I’m fine.”

  He shook his head, though
she noticed he didn’t try to pull away. Too needy to resist taking advantage of the moment, she drew him fully onto her lap, sitting back so he could lay his head against her, just as he’d done countless times during the first four years of his life.

  If they were out late or they’d spent long hours campaigning, if they were at a movie, even at home on the couch, he used to climb up on her lap and fall asleep that way. It was one of the memories Erica cherished most. The feel of that warm body against hers. Trusting her.

  Something Jack had missed out on.

  “You love Daddy and me,” he said. “And if the nucl’ar war comes, there won’t be a soldier here to save you.”

  Swallowing back tears, she put a hand gently against the side of his face. “There isn’t going to be a nuclear war, Kevin,” she said, trying for a tone that was light enough to calm his fears and solemn enough to reassure him that she was taking him seriously.

  “If Daddy doesn’t win and keep the munitions away, there could be a war, Mom,” he said, such a little man-child. “They don’t have so many armies and guns and generals anymore like they used to. Just some guys get mad and fight.” The words were so matter-of-fact she nearly cried.

  “It isn’t easy to get nuclear weapons, Kevin. There are all kinds of safeguards.” She repeated what had become almost litany to her and Jefferson, hoping that someday her little boy would relax and allow himself to believe it. “And besides, we have satellites all over the world taking pictures of all the other countries and their weapons and military. And taking pictures of the sky, too, so that no one can get close enough to us to drop a bomb on us.”

  “But they could send nucl’ar stuff in envelopes with mailmen.”

  “No, Kev, it doesn’t work like that.”

  He sighed, shook his head, as though he alone understood the monumental problems they all faced. She’d give her life to find a way to convince him that his world was safe, that he didn’t have to assume responsibility for anyone, even himself. That he could be a child…