Adopted Son

Maybe that’s why he felt so strongly about his plans to one day refurbish the farmhouse and take in foster children. Every child needed a chance like the one he’d been given.

A knock at his back door interrupted his reverie. He swung Jesse into his arms and got to his feet.

“We got company, Jesse.” He wiped away more slobber. “Wonder who it is?”

He stopped at the door. Grace Whitten, Caroline’s sister, stood on the other side of the screen. He pushed it open, his heart knocking against his ribs the way it always did when Grace was near. He never quite understood that because the woman could annoy the hell out of him with very little effort.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Jeremiah.”

He tensed and felt that seething annoyance creep up his spine. No one called him Jeremiah but Grace.

“But I was over at Caroline and Eli’s and no one answered the door. I…” Her words halted as she held out her hands to Jesse. “Come to Auntie Grace. I should have known they were here. Both their vehicles are at their house.”

Jesse practically leaped into her arms.

Traitor.

“Hi, precious,” Grace cooed as she walked in without an invitation.

“Don’t call him precious,” Tuck said, closing the door.

Grace turned to face him. “Why not?”

The objection had come out of nowhere and he couldn’t explain it. Maybe it had something to do with the talk he and Eli had had earlier about the macho stuff. He could blame Eli, but obviously he had issues about boys being boys and girls being girls. Or whatever. Grace had a way of making him nuts. He’d blame her. That was easier.

He waved his hand. “Never mind.”

Grace glanced around his kitchen and den for Caroline and Eli. He watched the patrician features of her face. She had to be the most reserved, uptight woman he’d ever met. Her exterior was cool, composed. Always. He’d never seen her any other way and he’d known her for four years.

Grace was a dedicated career woman. Dressed in a navy suit, white silky blouse and high heels, she wore her blond hair pulled back in a neat knot at her nape. Not one hair was out of place. Ever. Perfect came to mind when he looked at Grace.

Perfect and beautiful.

Untouchable beauty.

Like a mannequin on display.

He wondered what would happen if he reached up and took the pins out of her hair. Would she be transformed into a woman with emotions and needs? He shook his head to rid himself of that insane thought. Grace was the head of the Whitten Law Firm, following in Congressman Stephen Whitten’s footsteps. Everything in her life she did to please her father.

He often thought that Grace was programmed not to show emotion. But the moment she held Jesse he knew he was wrong. Her features softened and her green eyes sparkled. He had a hard time looking away, which surprised him.

“They’re not here.”

It took a moment for him to realize what she was talking about. “No. Eli and Caroline are not here.”

“Where are they?”

“At home.”

She nuzzled Jesse’s face. “I was just there. They didn’t answer the door.”

“They’re busy.”

“What are they doing that they can’t answer the door?”

He hitched an eyebrow. “A husband and wife are home alone. I have the baby. Use your imagination.”

“Oh.” A slight flush stained her cheeks, but her composure quickly returned. “I’ll call Caroline later.”

Sam reared up on her skirt. “Down, Sam,” he said.

“Oh, my.” She brushed at the skirt with her hand as if to rid it of germs while juggling Jesse in her arms. “Do you think it’s wise to have a dog in the house with the baby?”

He clenched his jaw. “Caroline doesn’t have a problem with it.”

They stared at each other and as always the battlefield lines were drawn. His way. Her way. No in-between.

“I’d better go,” she said stiffly.

“That’s a good idea.”

He reached for the baby, but Jesse had Grace’s blouse clutched in his fist. As he took Jesse, the baby didn’t let go. A button came undone, then another, revealing a lacy bra and a rounded breast.

Grace grabbed her blouse and Tuck tried to pry open Jesse’s little fingers. In his efforts, Tuck’s hand brushed against Grace’s soft, pliable skin. Her delicate perfume filled his senses and a jolt of awareness shot through him. He stared into Grace’s eyes and what he saw there shocked him.

Was she attracted to him?

Or was he attracted to her?

CHAPTER TWO

STARING INTO Jeremiah’s sensuous dark eyes, Grace felt as if she were teetering on the edge of something momentous. Her heart did a fancy two-step in her chest. All she had to do was reach out and touch him to feel the fire and warmth she saw in his eyes. That action would take her to places unknown and awaken…

As if sensing her need, his strong body tensed and she collected herself. She quickly kissed Jesse’s cheek and walked out, clutching her blouse together in her hand. A musky whiff of aftershave seemed to follow her.

Why did every encounter with Jeremiah turn out like this—bad? They just never made the connection that could make them friends. Or much of anything else. A family acquaintance—that was the sum total of their relationship.

Driving home, she tried to put the incident out of her mind.

At her apartment, Grace slipped out of her clothes, folded them neatly and laid them on a stack to take to the cleaners. Running a hand across her collarbone to her chest, she could still feel Jeremiah’s fingers against her skin. Her response to his touch had been a delicious sensation that melted her bones.

Had her eyes given her away? For four years now she’d wondered what it would feel like if he touched her intimately. Wonderful. Heavenly. And she tried very hard to hide it. She was good at hiding her emotions.

She wasn’t sure when she’d acquired that ability—probably when she was young and her parents would leave her and Caroline with the nanny while her father was campaigning or furthering his career. Caroline always spoke her mind, but Grace kept her feelings inside, wanting to be perfect for her father. Back then that had been important to her. Now being her father’s puppet was wearing a little thin.

Her work had always completed her, but lately she was feeling a restlessness she couldn’t explain. Or maybe she could. Her life that once filled her every need now instilled in her a sense of dissatisfaction. After much introspection, she recognized the cause. Somewhere along the way she’d lost sight of who she was. Her career was rock solid, but the woman in her was fighting for survival.

She knew that. And still she struggled.