Harlequin Superromance February 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: His Forever Girl\Moonlight in Paris\Wife by Design (41 page)

She held her phone out. “My family.”

His chin buckled in concern. “Is somebody sick?”

“No.” She ran her thumb and middle finger into the hair at the top of her head, and flipped the sides out of her face. “They've cancelled the July Fourth picnic, which has never happened before, supposedly because of weather.”

Garrett's shrug suggested she was overreacting. “That sounds plausible.”

“Yeah, I guess.” She stuffed her phone into the pocket of her shorts. “I'm probably just being paranoid. You were right about my dad being bothered by my looking for Jacques Martin, though. I think the whole situation's got him depressed.”

Garrett held out a glass of wine to her. “Well, you're here, and the die is cast, so just roll with it.”

“I hope I don't read 'em and weep.”

He grinned. “That's poker, not craps.”

“Oh.” She took the glass he offered and tipped it in his direction. “Then let the good times roll.” She took a sip of the tongue-pleasing, full-bodied wine. Garrett's wines were always superb. Or maybe it was the presence of the man who flavored the drink. “Speaking of which, I thought we decided it wouldn't be smart to spend the evening together.”

After the afternoon's excursion, they'd returned to their respective flats, not wanting Dylan to get ideas about their time together. She'd stayed tucked away out of sight while they played their nightly game of catch
and grilled their hot dogs.

“He's asleep. He won't see us together.” Garrett's lips on hers made acquiescence much easier. With a hand at the small of her back, he guided her to the bench beside his door.

She helped him clear away the balls and gloves that littered the seat. “What if he wakes up?”

“He won't. He never does. The kid's always been a sound sleeper.”

As soon as they sat, Garrett's arm went around her shoulder and pulled her close. She relaxed against him, his solidness and the wine making whatever was going on at home seem very far away. “I like Henri
.”

She felt the vibration of Garrett's chuckle against her shoulder blade. “He likes you, too, but he had a hard time understanding what you were saying.”

She laughed. “Nobody's ever had to translate my English into regular English before. My kids at school are going to love this story.”

“
Henri's
been a good friend. He took a liking to me as soon as we met, and he adores Dylan. I'm anxious to hear what he has to say about you tomorrow.” He let loose with a growl, and his best Henri imitation. “
Mon Dieu,
Garrett, theese Tara, she has the voice of the angel but the look that ees hot as hell.”

Tara giggled and pressed her palm to her hot face. “He's quite the lady's man, huh?”

“If you made that plural, you got it right. Henri
can charm the clothes off a woman with the raise of an eyebrow.”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “You don't do so bad yourself with that lazy, one-sided grin.”

“Is that right?” Garrett sounded genuinely surprised. He leaned forward and looked her in the face. “Like this?” He did an exaggerated lift to the right side of his mouth that left a goofy expression on his face.

Tara tried to stifle her laugh, but it burst out, along with some wine-colored spit that landed on Garrett's nose. “Ack! I'm sorry!” The apology would've been more effective if she'd been able to control her laughter, which she couldn't.

Garrett closed his eyes and wiped his sleeve down his face, and his lips relaxed into a yummy, genuine smile. “It's okay. We've exchanged spit, as I recall. Along with other bodily fluids.”

There it was. One side of his mouth dropped, leaving the other raised in that look that made her insides squirm.

His eyes locked with hers and darkened. “It didn't work.”

She cocked her head, holding his stare. “What didn't work?”

“Your clothes are still on.” He leaned forward, touching his lips to hers. She opened her mouth to him, tasting the wine that seemed to have grown sweeter on his tongue. He followed as she leaned back into the bench. They both found the side table and managed to set their glasses on it without ever breaking contact with their mouths.

The kiss intensified when she ran her hands through his hair, pressing him close, inviting his tongue deeper. His arms encircled her with heat, on her neck, shoulder, breast. Reflexively, the small of her back came off the bench as she arched against him. He wasted no time accepting the offer, running his hand under her T-shirt and her bra, brushing her nipple with his thumb.

She came up for air, reluctantly pulling her mouth away. He continued to kiss the side of her lips, her cheek, her jaw line, and down to her neck, still brushing her nipple, driving her insane with the light touch. She needed more. So much more.

“We have to stop now,” she warned, “if we're going to stop at all.”

Garrett leaned his head back to look at her. His hand dropped from her breast, but the back of his fingers kept contact along her rib cage and stomach. “Why would we stop?”

“Dylan.” The word came out on a gasp as he caught her other nipple between his fingers. “We don't want him to get...oh! To get...the wrong idea.”

“He's sound asleep.” He kissed her eyelids tenderly. “And we could be, too, in a couple of hours.”

Tara raised her lips to his. “Are you asking me to spend the night?”

Garrett kissed her gently, and then backed his face away until they could actually focus on each other. His hand brushed her cheek. “I want you so badly. We can make love in my bed, and go to sleep in each other's arms. I'll set the alarm to wake us up and you can go back to your place before Dylan gets up. He won't even know you stayed the night.”

The child would be in her charge all day tomorrow. If she was going to be on her best game, she needed a good rest tonight—and that wasn't going to happen if she and Garrett stopped now. She would spend the rest of the night in turmoil, aching to have him inside her.

“Okay, let's go.”

He stopped to check on his son on their way to his bedroom.

She went on ahead and was waiting, naked and more than ready, when he met up with her two minutes later.

* * *

“I
CAN
'
T
KEEP
AVOIDING
her calls, Mama. She's going to figure out something's up.”

Faith had known that Thea would have the hardest time with the lie they were perpetrating on Tara. The two girls had always been close, had always shared everything. But she'd thought she could count on Trenton—Mr. I-can-keep-my-cool-in-all-situations. Apparently, he'd blown it, too—a fact that Thea had started their phone conversation with.

“She might suspect, Thea, but she can't know unless somebody tells her. I told her Sawyer was still having a hard time with things. Can't you just reiterate that?” Faith rubbed her throbbing temple, certain that any more pressure in her life would cause it to rupture. She'd talked to far too many people today, trying to explain the separation Sawyer had announced from the pulpit without giving away intimate details. She didn't need things with Tara to go awry now, too.

Her younger daughter sounded close to tears. “I can try. But you know how she always finagles secrets out of me.”

Faith knew all too well. Christmas presents. Surprise parties. No secret was safe if Thea got hold of it. If her oldest child had any inkling something was up, she could easily get the youngest to sing like a canary, without even having to bribe her with seed.

“Can't you just be too busy to talk to her?” Faith suggested.

“And miss all the good stuff about the new guy?” Incredulity oozed over the line. “Not a chance.”

“What new guy?” It was Faith's turn to be incredulous. “Has Tara met somebody in Paris?”

“Um...no. Of course not. I mean, they're just neighbors.”

Faith knew that once Thea started crawdadding, you were mere seconds away from getting the lowdown. She pressed in quickly, overwhelming her younger daughter with questions. “Tara's involved with her neighbor? Dylan's father? What's his name? How do you know?”

“His name's Garrett, and, for one thing,
you
told me they went out.”

Okay, she had her on that one. But Faith wasn't about to let this go. Tara was her firstborn, and it sounded as if she was going to need some direction from Mama. “But, I thought it was just an innocent date. That he was showing her the sights. Is there more to it than that?”

“No, no, of course not. All they did was visit some historic sites.” Thea would be twirling her hair around her finger about now. She claimed it helped her concentrate, but it mostly let her family know she was withholding information.

“I thought they went to dinner, too.”

“Well, yeah. That's what I meant. All they did was see sights and go to dinner. Emma just said that she really liked him.”

Faith's head spun with that news. If Understatement Emma said “really liked,” that meant Tara might be shopping for an engagement ring as they spoke. “Really likes him as in doing things she shouldn't even be thinking about doing because she doesn't know him well enough to be doing those things? Or thinking about them?”

“Uhh, geez, Mama, I've got to go. I totally forgot that I told my friend, uh, Melody that I'd help her, uh, move some furniture around today. I'd better get over there. Love you. Bye!”

Faith closed her eyes and groaned. Tara was sleeping with some Garrett guy in Paris. Her baby. Involved with somebody she hadn't known long enough to barely be friends with, much less lovers. Getting serious with someone she had no chance at a relationship with because everybody knew that long-distance relationships didn't work. Surely, she knew by now that “absence makes the heart grow fonder” was a fallacy. “Out of sight, out of mind” was the truth.

Or maybe Tara wasn't getting serious. Maybe this was just a fun fling. A month of sex and then head home without a backward glance. That was even worse.

Faith twirled her wedding band, which had grown loose on her finger. She and Sawyer had tried to instill a belief in their children that physical intimacy was the highest means of showing love, and sex was not something to be taken lightly.

Like I did.

Her past hadn't just come back to haunt her, it was claiming squatters rights smack-dab in the center of her life.

Well, she may not have been the perfect role model, but that wouldn't keep her from being the best mother she knew how to be. “But I did it” was an excuse parents used way too often. She'd done a lot of things she didn't want her kids to do, and she hoped they learned from her mistakes.

She picked up her phone and touched Tara's number.

Her daughter answered immediately. “Mama?”

Faith saw no use easing into this. Tara's frankness came straight from her own gene pool. “Thea tells me you're sleeping with your neighbor.”

“She
what?
”

Anger and horror, but no denial.
“Okay, she didn't come right out and tell me, but you know how she loses her composure and can't think of what to say? Well, she just did that, and we were talking about you and your neighbor, so I'm pretty sure I've jumped to the right conclusion.”

“I don't think this is something I want to talk about.”

“Of course you don't. I knew you wouldn't. So don't talk. Just listen. You need to think about the consequences of what you're doing. You're setting yourself up for heartbreak because you're going to lose either way.”

A noisy sigh came from the other end of the line, but Faith wouldn't relinquish the floor. At least Tara hadn't hung up on her. “If you fall in love with him, you're going to be leaving in two weeks, and everybody knows long-distance relationships don't work. And, if you're not in love and just doing this for fun, then you're following in my footsteps. And look where they led me.”

“Mama...”

“I just don't want you to make the same mistakes I made, and I'll go to any lengths to keep that from happening.”

“Like calling me in the middle of the night?”

Faith looked at her watch. Six-twenty. Which meant it was after one in the morning in Paris. The tide turned, and guilt swept over her. She'd disturbed her daughter's sleep and probably scared the wadding out of her, too. “Oh, sweetpea, I'm so sorry. I didn't even consider the time difference! Go back to sleep. I hope you're alone. I love you.”

“Love you, too. Bye.”

Faith dropped the phone on the table and picked up the photo that sat on one of Lacy's hand-crocheted doilies. Her family smiled back at her—her family as it used to be a couple of years ago. The family she wanted back. Smiling. Hugging. United.

With the first utterance of Jacques Martin's name, that family had vanished, and Tara had started looking for something to hold on to to keep her world upright.

Maybe that's what she was doing with this Garrett person. Perhaps he was giving her something in Paris to hold on to while the world shifted beneath her feet.

But, if Tara found her father, she might not need the other man to hold on to.

A flash of inspiration lifted Faith's spirit.

All this time, she'd been hoping Tara wouldn't find Jacques Martin. She'd been afraid of what it would do to Sawyer and the family.

But fear of the unknown was a crippling kind of fear. The kind that held you back when destiny was calling your name. It took
faith
to step out into the darkness, as her mama always told her. That's why she named Faith what she did.

Tomorrow, she would start with calls to Murray State University. Somewhere, someone would know something about Jacques Martin.