Chapter Nine #3
She rose to her feet and moved next to him.
When he didn’t step back, she risked putting a hand on his arm.
His skin felt warm to the touch. Alive. The black hairs tickled her palm.
Stubble outlined the strong line of his square jaw.
The young woman who’d left him would have been allowed to touch that skin and stubble, but she wouldn’t have appreciated the contrast of smooth and rough, warm and cool.
She wouldn’t have noticed the shape of his mouth, or that his muscles coiled when he was tense.
She hadn’t learned that losing, even if by choice, was hard to get over.
It had been nine years and Jane still hadn’t gotten over Adam.
“Billie is our first priority,” she said. “We have to tell her that you’re her father.”
He stiffened. “Father. How am I going to be her father? I don’t know how.”
“You’ll be fine.” She was about to go on with the logistics of where and when to tell Billie, when he cut her off.
“What if I say something wrong? What if she decides she doesn’t want me for her dad?”
She stared at him. Adam Barrington, the Adam Barrington, expressing doubt?
He shrugged out of her touch. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m surprised you’re worried.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I don’t know Billie that well and she doesn’t know me. What if she doesn’t like me?”
“She adores you.”
“Maybe.”
She shook her head.
“What?” he asked.
“I was just thinking I wish you’d been like this nine years ago.”
“Like what?”
“Insecure. Scared.”
His eyes met hers and for the second time that night she saw into his soul. “You scared the hell out of me, Jane.”
The confession came nine years too late.
“Hell of a day,” she said, blinking frantically and ordering herself not to cry.
“You’re telling me.” He sighed. “Tomorrow, over breakfast?”
“Okay.”
“What do you want to say?”
“I haven’t a clue.” She forced herself to smile. “Maybe we should wing it.”
He nodded. “Nine. My kitchen.”
“I’ll be there.”
She stood in front of her house until he walked through the hedges that separated their properties. Her mind raced. Thoughts of Billie and what her daughter would say competed with those eight simple words. “You scared the hell out of me, Jane.”
Had he been frightened of losing her? Had he cared? Had she destroyed three lives to get away from a demon that didn’t even exist?
* * *
Adam stepped quickly through the dark night.
He’d grown up on this land, he knew every inch of the path from his house to Charlene’s.
Even without the moon to guide him, he made his way through the trees and up the brick-lined walkway to her back door.
He knocked softly and waited. She’d still be up. They had a lot to talk about.
“Come in,” she called.
He opened the door and stepped into her kitchen. Charlene stood at the stove stirring a pot. Long red hair tumbled around her shoulders. Her full-length burgundy robe clashed with her hair color. Usually he teased her about the combination. Not tonight.
“Is Billie asleep?” he asked.
“Yes.”
She didn’t turn around to look at him. The silence between them lengthened. “You knew,” he said at last.
“Yes.”
“She told you?”
“I guessed.”
“When?”
With a sigh she tapped the spoon on the edge of the pot, then placed it on the counter. Turning slowly, she raised her chin and looked up at him. “The day she arrived.”
He cursed. All the emotion of the past few hours had left him feeling drained, as if someone had pulled the plug on his energy. He didn’t have enough in him to sustain anger. He could only feel disappointment and hurt.
Charlene continued to watch him. Her blue eyes, less vivid without any makeup to accentuate the color, didn’t show remorse.
“I didn’t tell you,” she said as she leaned against the counter.
“Because that wasn’t my decision to make.
I warned Jane she didn’t have much time.
If she didn’t say something you’d figure it out. ”
God, he was tired. “You betrayed me.”
“How?”
“You’re my aunt. You should have been looking out for me. How dare you keep Billie a secret?”
“Adam, I understand your pain. Believe me, this was not an easy thing to keep quiet about. Yes, you’re family. But by virtue of having Billie, so is Jane. It wasn’t my secret to share or not. It was hers.” She picked up the spoon and began stirring the pot again. “Do you want some cocoa?”
“You can’t fix this problem that easily,” he said, moving into the kitchen and pulling out one of the chairs in front of the window. “I’m not a kid anymore.”
“You haven’t been for much too long. But cocoa can still make you feel better. Trust me.”
He looked at her.
“Adam, I love you. I also love Jane and Billie. Please don’t trap me in the middle.”
He wanted to hate her, but he couldn’t. There was too much at stake. “I don’t know what to do.”
“About Billie?”
“About all of it. What am I supposed to say when she finds out I’m her father?”
“When are you going to tell her?”
“Tomorrow. At breakfast.”
Charlene took down two cups, then measured out cocoa and sugar. “You’ll think of something. Billie is a bright girl. She’ll handle this better than you imagine.”
“I hope so.”
She poured the steaming milk into the mugs and stirred. After handing him one, she took the other and sat opposite him at the round oak table. “You’ll be a fine father.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know the kind of man you are, Adam Barrington. Have a little faith in yourself.” She picked up her cup. “To fatherhood and one more generation of Barringtons.”
They tapped mugs. In the corner of her kitchen, the CB unit squawked. “Breaker, breaker, I’m lookin’ for my redheaded Southern belle. Charlene, you listenin’ to me, darlin’?”
Adam raised one eyebrow.
Charlene tossed her head as she rose to her feet. “I’m just keeping busy.”