The Secret Son Page 13

  Toes curling, Erica slid down in the bed, her shirt riding up again. He had no idea….

  “Contrary to my actions in New York, I can’t have…sex without commitment. And that’s a road I’m all done traveling.”

  “You can’t know that.” His voice wasn’t quite so soft. “You’re not even forty years old!”

  “I’m old enough to have believed in ‘till death do us part’—twice. And both times, I was powerless to cash in on any promises made to me when my partner changed his mind. ‘But you promised’ didn’t seem to mean a thing.”

  “Not all men are unfaithful.”

  “No, but all people make promises they don’t keep.”

  “That’s harsh.”

  She supposed it was. She suddenly felt so weary.

  And far too lonely.

  “I might have a solution to your problem.” His voice, a half whisper, slid over her, through her.

  “What problem?”

  “The sex one.”

  She’d just told him she didn’t have a problem. “What’s your solution?” she asked, anyway. Curious.

  “Seems to me we’re both in the same boat,” he said easily. “Neither of us takes sex lightly, and yet neither of us is open to the possibility of commitment.”

  That about summed it up. But if he thought having someone to share her misery was a solution, he was wrong.

  She already had her solution. Ignore the problem. She had enough real problems to deal with.

  “So?” she finally said when it became obvious that he was waiting for her response.

  “So, the solution seems obvious. We have sex with each other.”

  She almost dropped the phone. “What?”

  “It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

  Well, yes, but…

  Damn her body for burning up at the mere thought.

  “Like I said, it’s the perfect solution. The parameters are set. We both benefit. What can it hurt?”

  Her. The last time—the only time—she’d made love with him had changed her life irrevocably.

  But then, Jack had no idea what kind of repercussions had resulted from that one night together. No idea that the child he assumed was Jefferson Cooley’s was actually his own flesh and blood. He had no way of knowing that every time she looked at Kevin, really looked, she saw the man to whom she’d given her soul during one lost week in New York City.

  “If we do that—” she stopped. Licked her lips. She couldn’t believe she was even having this conversation. But her body was remembering another time, and the liquid heat coursing through her belly was stronger than her sense of survival.

  At least at the moment.

  “If we do that,” she started again, “don’t we run the risk of getting too involved? I mean, how do you have such an…intimate relationship and stay emotionally detached?”

  His silence made her uncomfortable. “Are we emotionally detached?”

  “Isn’t that what we’re all about? No commitment? No risk?”

  “Do you feel emotionally detached?”

  The pain she heard in his voice forced the truth from her. “No.” And then, when he said nothing, she asked, “Do you?” She held her breath—waiting for his answer—until she began to feel dizzy.

  “No.”

  “So what does that mean?”

  “Maybe it’s not the emotional detachment that’s so important.”

  Sliding down so that her head was resting on the pillows, Erica threw an arm across her eyes. “What else could it be?”

  “Expectation.” He said the word as if he’d only just discovered it. “If we have no expectation of each other, if we count on nothing, then we can’t be hurt if we discover that nothing is all there is.”

  Sounded like a sell job to her.

  It was a testimony to how pathetic she’d grown that she bought into it, anyway.

  “So, if you’re ever in Washington or I’m in New York, we have sex?” Desire curled through parts of her that had been ignored a long time.

  “I’m willing to give it a try if you are.” There was a funny lilt to his voice.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.”

  As she hung up and rolled over, turning off the light, her body, at least, hoped that he was going to be in Washington very, very soon.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  MOMMY AND DADDY wanted him to go to school. That scared Kevin. How could he be ready to fight if he was locked away in a dumb classroom all day with a lady talking to him about apples and numbers and other junk that didn’t have anything to do with nucl’ar munitions? If he wasn’t at work, how would he ever keep up on things?

  Daddy was trying hard to make nucl’ar munitions stay away, but he wasn’t done yet. And some other big men were trying to stop him. Kevin heard him and Mommy talking in Mommy’s office when he was supposed to be helping put papers in the shredding machine. He’d sat outside the door and listened, instead, until Bobbie’s mommy came by and took him down to the candy machine and bought him his favorite chocolate bar.

  That was nice. Maybe the best part about going to work.

  Still, what could he do about school?

  Daddy and Mommy had talked about the people who agreed with Daddy and wanted to help him. Mr. Terratruce and his friends. They were going to be having a rally soon. Rallies, Mommy had told him, were a lot like parties.

  So, maybe he’d go to Mr. Terratruce’s party. They’d probably talk about nucl’ar munitions there. Maybe they could even tell him how to know when he should be ready to fight.

  Somehow he’d have to find out when Mr. Terratruce was having his party. And somehow he’d figure out how to get there. Mommy walked a lot of places. And Kevin knew his way around Capitol Hill. Maybe the party would be near the office, and he could just take himself.

  Then Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t have to know. They kept telling him not to worry about the missiles and munitions. They thought he didn’t know about men having to fight. They acted like they didn’t know he had to be a man now.

  But that was okay. If they were scared like him and had to pretend, he could understand that. He did everything just like Daddy. He tied his own shoes and was pretty good at knotting a tie. He could go to the party and figure it all out, and Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t have to be sad anymore.

  “HI.”

  “Hi.”

  There was no reason for Jack to feel so edgy. He’d been thinking about this phone call all day. Anticipating it. Looking forward to making it.

  “How are you?”

  “Okay.” She sounded as weary as ever. Still, since their late-night call a couple of weeks ago, there’d been a certain indefinable something in her voice. Something that echoed deeply inside him.

  “How about you? Where are you?”

  “Washington.” He stared out the window at the darkened street below, wondering how far away he was. Couldn’t be too far. She’d said she was only a couple of blocks from the Prime Rib.

  And so was he.

  “You’re in town?” Erica shrieked. He had to pull the phone away from his ear.

  “Yes.”

  “Where? When? How long have you been here?”

  Smiling, receiving an even more gratifying reception than he’d imagined, Jack sank to the floor of the still-empty apartment.

  “I just flew in today,” he said. And what a day it had been. He was exhausted, but feeling better than he had in a long time.

  There were many things he refused to think about, but wasn’t that how most people coped with life?

  “How long are you in town? When can I see you?” His body was instantly hard as he recalled what they’d promised each other.

  He’d been living with constant anticipation for weeks.

  It was past ten. He’d purposely waited until he could be sure her son was asleep and her obligations pretty well through for the night. He wondered if she was in bed.

  “Other than a trip back to New York to get a few boxes
of stuff, I’m here permanently,” he told her, looking around the first new apartment he’d had since Melissa died. The first home he’d ever had outside New York City.

  All he could see was the bare floor and walls of the living room, but he’d been through the place thoroughly that afternoon and was pleased.

  “You took the job?” she asked. Her voice, though lower now, was still excited.

  “Yeah. It was time.” He still couldn’t get that little boy in the day care out of his mind. He’d had a call from the boy’s parents. It appeared that with months of therapy the boy might become whole and well again. And still he haunted Jack.

  “So where are you staying?”

  “I’ve got an apartment on K Street. Just past Twenty-first.”

  “That’s just around the corner from me!”

  “I hoped it was.” Yeah, it might be pitch-black in his living room—there were no overhead lights and he didn’t own a single piece of household furnishing—but things were definitely looking better than they had in a long time.

  In at least five years…

  “When can I see you?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “What time?”

  If he’d been at all worried about her willingness to continue this crazy…whatever it was they shared, well, he needn’t have bothered.

  And at the moment, he was choosing to ignore any worries about the dangers of embarking on a relationship that wasn’t part-time and wasn’t long-distance. Neither of them had any expectations. That was what mattered.

  “Any time that’s good for you,” he told her, wondering how long he’d been wearing the stupid grin on his face. “I’ve got a couple of days to get settled before I report for duty. Other than a quick trip back to Manhattan, I’m going to be spending my time buying furniture.” He looked around. “And a lamp.”

  “I know some great places to get furniture.”

  He’d hoped she might. “You want to come along?”

  “It’d be best if I got a look at your place first….”

  “Meet me here tomorrow night at eight-thirty?” He knew she had dinner and a story with her son before that. The boy’s bedtime was eight.

  “Okay. As long as Jefferson’s free.”

  Jack was still smiling when they rang off. He wasn’t going to let a little twinge of something close to jealousy at the mention of her ex-husband mar what had been as close to a perfect day as his life could produce.

  JEFFERSON WATCHED Erica get ready for her date. So now, in addition to every other sorry thing he’d learned about himself over the years, he’d discovered he was a masochist, too. He’d come early so Kevin could see him before he went to bed, to know that his father was there so he could sleep.

  “Where are you going?” he asked as Erica came hurrying out of the bedroom he used to share with her.

  He’d been living with a knife in his gut for more years than he wanted to think about. It twisted a little more sharply than usual when she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  “I don’t know. Dinner, probably.”

  “He’s picking you up, then?” He was finally going to see the man who’d fathered his son—the son he’d never have had without Jack.

  More masochism? Or maybe realism. Maybe he just needed to see the man, to approve of him, before he could finally let Erica go.

  “No, I’m meeting him.” She’d taken a lipstick from her purse, was using the mirror by the entryway as she applied it.

  Dressed in black cotton stretch pants and a three-quarter-sleeve beige and black cashmere sweater, his communications director looked more beautiful than he’d ever seen her.

  “If you don’t know where you’re going, how will you be able to meet him?”

  She turned toward him, and for the first time, Jefferson saw the various emotions flickering in and out of her eyes. Excitement. Apprehension. A flicker he’d never seen there before. And, when she looked at him, unadulterated pain.

  “I’m going to his new apartment.”

  The statement fell baldly into a room grown silent. Jefferson stared at her for as long as he could maintain his composure, and then he turned, facing the wall of windows that had been his salvation on so many occasions throughout the years of his life with her.

  “He took the job,” he said when he could.

  “Yesterday. Yes.”

  “When are you going to tell him about Kevin?” He braced himself for the final fracture of everything he’d held dear for so long. He wouldn’t just be losing Erica, he’d be losing his son, too. If not now, then eventually.

  He’d resigned himself to never having children, and he’d been at peace with the situation. But that was before he’d had Kevin, before he’d known what it was like to have a son. To listen to those never-ending questions, feel the trusting, innocent touch of those small hands, watch the determination as life unfolded each new challenge.

  “I’m not going to tell him.”

  “You can’t have him here in town, part of your life, seeing the boy and not—”

  He didn’t know she’d moved until she was standing in front of him. She took both of his arms, her grip surprisingly firm, and looked up at him. “All the reasons we’ve already discussed still stand, whether Jack’s in town or not,” she said quite clearly. “I love you, Jeff. There is no way on this earth I could take your son from you. Or you from Kevin.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t go out with him. Maybe you’re just asking for trouble.”

  “You’d rather I lived the rest of my life alone?”

  “No!” Of course he didn’t. “Maybe I should move back in here, after all.”

  What was he saying? Had he lost his mind? Was the thought of losing Kevin driving him over the edge?

  She walked to the window, stood gazing at the lights glittering out in the darkness. “Tell me something, Jeff.” Her voice was cold.

  He’d spent his entire life thinking of others, trying to do what was right. Only once had he dared to reach out for something for him, to believe that he could have it all. Did it really have to come to this?

  “Anything.” It was a physical pain to restrain himself from going to her, pulling her into his arms, hiding her away from all that hurt her.

  “When you go into work tomorrow, when you see Pamela, could you in good conscience tell her you were moving back in with me?”

  Pamela. Just the thought of her lightened some of the tension strangling his heart.

  Erica had him there.

  “I thought not.” She turned, picked up her purse, went to the door.

  “I won’t be late,” she said over her shoulder.

  “Be as late as you need.” He wasn’t sure she even heard the words.

  The door had already clicked quietly shut behind her.

  IT WAS INEVITABLE that the moment Jack opened his door to her, Erica would fall into his arms. There simply was no other choice.

  With his lips on hers he pulled her inside and kicked the door closed.

  “Hi,” he said when they finally broke apart.

  “Hi.” She couldn’t stop smiling. He looked so good to her. Felt so good. It had been a long couple of months. Talking to him. Not seeing him. Longer, maybe, than the six years she’d lived without him.

  “How are you?”

  “Getting better by the second.”

  He was still holding her, his eyes on fire as they held her gaze. “I like that.”

  “Me, too.” To actually be with someone you cared about and feel completely good for a moment—she could barely comprehend it, barely believe it.

  He bent down to kiss her a second time, and Erica met his lips, freely giving him the passion she’d given with so much guilt six years before.

  She was desperate to lose herself in Jack. To forget, just for a little while, the tangle of love and pain she’d caused. To be completely consumed by emotions, with no means of escape. No alternative but to hang on and ride.

  “What you do to me, woman,” Jack whisper
ed hoarsely. He nudged her, kissing her again, until she was pressed against the wall. Erica eagerly accepted the extra support, spreading her legs enough for him to fit between them.

  Jack’s lips clung to hers, his tongue approaching hers boldly. Shaking with the intensity of the passion he aroused in her, Erica was just as forward, with her mouth, her tongue, her hands. Intoxicated by freedom, she touched Jack everywhere, needing all of him at once.

  There were too many years to make up for. Too many regrets.

  Fear spurred her on, too. Was this all a dream? Something that would fade away into darkness?

  Jack lifted his mouth from hers, his lips trailing wet and hot down her neck. “I’m sorry,” he said raggedly just beneath her ear.

  “Don’t be.” She was well beyond being embarrassed by the moan that accompanied her words.

  His hands beneath her sweater were such a long-awaited relief she almost cried. She laughed, instead, a sexy release of glad anticipation she didn’t even recognize.

  “You like that?” Jack murmured, his lips against hers again. His thumbs teased her nipples through the thin spandex of her bra.

  “Oh, yeah.” Erica arched involuntarily, her hips bumping his, sweet feminine need against hard solid male. Rubbing herself against him, she groaned. She’d had no idea life could be so unbelievably fine. Had never, even during their night together in New York, been as alive, as wholly invigorated, as she was at that moment.

  She wanted to touch every part of him, to experience everything she’d fantasized about, all the things she’d agonized over never having the chance to do. But as Jack’s hands slipped inside her slacks, she just held on. First with her arms wrapped around his back as his fingers cupped her bare bottom, and then, when he slid her pants down to her ankles, her hands moved up to clutch shoulders suddenly naked.

  There was no time for thought, or finesse. No time for pretty words—or any words at all. One second they were two sane responsible adults and the next a couple of starved needy lovers, grasping. Gasping. Making something out of the nothing they’d had for so long.

  As soon as their clothes were scattered heaps on the floor, Jack was kissing her again, never ceasing his onslaught on her senses as he sheathed himself in a condom that seemed to appear from nowhere. He lifted her easily, holding her up as he found her center, and then he slid her back down against the wall and entered her. Legs wrapped around him, Erica held on to those magnificent shoulders and shuddered with the force of the convulsions spreading through her.