The Lawman's Secret Son

“You’re nervous,” he said.

She nodded.

“I want you to know I didn’t follow you out to the river. You told me not to come, but I happened to see Jason riding his bike and—”

She put her hand on his arm and he met her eyes. “You saved my life. You saved Jason. How could you think I would resent you being there?”

“Well, you’re nervous.”

“Not about that.”

“And you’re angry with me.”

“Oh, Brady. It’s been a long year.” Tears stung the back of her nose and she struggled to keep them out of her eyes and her voice. Though they didn’t fall, the emotion behind them must have showed, because he covered her hand with his.

His face was very close. She could smell soap and aftershave and toothpaste. She stared at his lips. Flames licked her groin.

And just like that, their lips drifted together, inevitably, touching in a way that was at once familiar and bittersweet. These lips she’d thought she’d never touch again. Soft and warm with the power of life behind them.

But not for her. Not ever again.

She drew away and took a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s me. My emotions are all over the map.”

“I won’t let it happen again,” he added. “I promise you.”

She nodded.

“What do you want to tell me?” His hand had slipped from hers.

She bit her lip and finally decided how she should share her news. “Come with me,” she said, standing. He stood as well and seemed startled when she led him up the stairs. Was he remembering the first time they’d climbed these stairs together, two and a half years ago when her mother had taken off for the Aegean Sea and Lara had used the opportunity to show him the room in which she’d grown up?

Things like that were impossible when her mom was in the house for the simple reason her mother didn’t like Brady. She was one of those people Brady talked about, one of those who based their opinion of him on his family name. To Lara’s mother, Brady was and always would be, “One of those worthless Skye boys.” Slightly less troublesome than the younger boy, Garrett, but not to be trusted just the same.

She led Brady into her old bedroom. The light was low, the bed was covered in white eyelet just as it had been years before when she lived at home with her mother. Knowing she was coming, Myra had filled vases with roses from the garden and placed them around the room. Their fragrance perfumed the air.

“This is why I rushed home from the hospital,” she said softly.

His brow furrowed as he looked at the bed, which suddenly seemed to glow with remembered passion. She moved aside so he could see what occupied the far corner.

So he could see the crib.

“Myra needed help getting Nathan to sleep,” she said.

She watched his face as realization dawned. It was like watching the sunrise. He glanced at her and she nodded once, sniffing back tears before they could glisten in her eyes.

He moved toward the crib like a sleepwalker and stood staring down at the slumbering infant within.

Chapter Four

“He was conceived on our wedding night,” Lara said. “His name is Nathan.”

He had a son?

Just like that? One moment alone in the world, the next moment, a son?

Very slowly, he lowered his hand until the backs of his fingers grazed the baby’s round cheek. How could skin be that soft? The baby tucked one tiny fist close to his chin. A bubble blew at his lips and then he made a sudden face, a frown, and scrunched up his tiny body before relaxing again, hands flung to the side.

His son. Nathan.

“You named him after your father,” he whispered.

“Yes.”

Brady kept his gaze glued to the infant because he didn’t trust himself to look at Lara. Men usually had a few months to prepare themselves for fatherhood. Time to get used to the idea of a baby, to merge the dreamy possibilities of the future with the uncertainties of the past. Time to reckon.

But she’d deprived him of this.

She hadn’t trusted him with the knowledge he was to become a father. She’d gone through pregnancy and birth and the first three months of his child’s life alone rather than trust him.

She’s here now, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind. They’re both here now.

He wasn’t ready to listen. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he turned to face her.

Their eyes locked for a heartbeat before she lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry, Brady,” she said so softly it might have been his imagination. “I was frightened.”

That made it better? Now she not only didn’t trust him and didn’t like him, she was afraid of him?

“Later,” he forced himself to say. He needed time to think.

“I just want you to know I didn’t know I was pregnant when I first went away, and when I found out—”

He held up a hand to still her.

The baby made a little noise and Lara leaned over, her shoulder brushing Brady’s arm. She grabbed her own arm, wincing, and he remembered her injury and how close he’d come to losing her. Good God, if she’d died tonight, would anyone have bothered to tell him about Nathan?

“Will you lift him for me?” she said, glancing up at him. “Or shall I call Myra?”

Brady blinked a time or two. “I can do it.”

“It’s easy, just make sure you support his head,” she said.

And so he lifted his son for the first time, careful to put one hand behind the little guy’s heavy head. The baby kicked and squirmed and Brady held on tight, terrified he’d drop him.

“Relax,” Lara said. “You’re doing fine.”