4

4

He didn’t know why he’d shown up so early. He told himself it was so he could stop in and chat with Brody. But he’d only seen his brother the night before, so it wasn’t as if there was much to catch up on.

He set himself up at his favorite table. In the far corner where he could see anyone coming and going. He had a mocha and bagel, but it was nervousness that brought his knee to bounce, not caffeine.

Adrian knew it was her the moment he caught sight of the dark-haired woman making her way up the sidewalk. What a fucking walk she had. Confident and yet wary.

Her clothes were nice but not showy, he noted when she walked into the café and looked around. The only jewelry he saw were some earrings, tasteful and elegant, a watch and one ring on her right hand.

She locked gazes with him, nodded and made her way over. He may have been suspicious of her motives, but his brother hadn’t raised him not to stand when greeting a woman. So he did, holding his hand out.

She took it and shook. Not overlong. Not too soft or too hard. “I take it you’re Ms. Forrester?” After a quick nod, she turned just slightly to put her sweater over the back of her chair. Enough for him to catch sight of the neat knot of hair at the back of her neck. Thick. It would have been thick, and with the mass of it he wagered it hung to her ass. He got a vivid flash of the way it would look, dark and smoky against her pale, creamy, naked skin.

“Gillian Forrester. You’re Adrian Brown then?”

She said it seriously and for a moment he believed it. Believed that she really was just making sure instead of knowing it was him without a doubt because she stalked his website or whatever. But he’d been through some type of this scenario more than once, so by that point, he wasn’t much up to trusting anyone but himself.

“Yes. Please, sit.” He indicated the table and she sat. Her voice was perfect. Smooth. Soothing even.

“I appreciate your time, Mr. Brown. I know you’re a busy man.” And suddenly none of that mattered. Because he wanted a whole heaping helping of whatever the hell it was Gillian had on under those clothes. Sure, they covered every part of her, but fabric couldn’t begin to hide what had to be a hot fucking body underneath it all.

He let his breath out and leaned in closer. “I was far more annoyed five minutes ago than I am now.” He smiled and she returned it, not quite willingly. For some reason that appealed to him too. If she was playing him, she was a fuckin’ master, which could work too. But he preferred to think she was genuine.

The server came over. “Can I get anything for you two? A refill on that mocha, Adrian?” He held his cup out. “Great. Thanks.”

Gillian frowned slightly, her lips, lush and juicy, turning just a bit. “I’ve already had two coffees today.

Can I get a cup of tea, please? Just something black?”

“Earl Grey all right?”

Gillian nodded before looking back at him. She hadn’t expected to be charmed. The man had been such a cad on the phone, she figured he’d be snotty. Instead, he was fabulously charismatic. Charming. His speech had a cadence to it, slow and honeyed. Not southern, but something similar. As if he liked to roll his words over his palate before he gave them up.

And, she had to admit after sneaking a few looks at his hands and forearms, he had lovely arms. She had a thing about a man’s hands. When a man pushed his sleeves up, she looked. And she liked what she saw.

Sun-kissed, but not fake-tan orange, a dusting of dark hair. Firm, muscular flesh. Big hands. He had calluses. She knew from the handshake. Where he strummed his guitar she assumed. Strength but not a showy type.

His hair was a dark chocolate tousle. Tumbled around his face and shoulders, taunting her fingers. It would be soft and cool against her skin. A neat beard and mustache only framed lips she had a feeling knew their way around a kiss.

And none of this was anything she should be thinking! She should especially stop looking at his arms. Her fingertips itched to slide along the tattoo she could see. Musical notes. On the other arm . . . she paused.

“Woody Guthrie,” she murmured, not meaning to.

His smile was surprised and pleased. “You know the quote?” He turned his arm out so she could see it better.

“My grandmother used to listen to Woody Guthrie when I was younger. She liked to tell this terribly lurid story about how she had a wild and passionate affair with him back in the day.” Oh and wasn’t that an appropriate story.

He laughed though, and she liked it on him so much she didn’t ruin the moment.

When her tea arrived, she put her file on the table and decided to just say it.

“Thirteen years ago my sister gave up her newborn son for adoption. To me.” She licked her lips. “I’ve asked her several times a year since she got pregnant just who the father was and until several days ago, she always refused.”

The teasing warmth in his eyes was gone in a second as he physically sat back, away from her.

“No.”

She sighed and tapped the folder. “Yes. My sister, Tina, died last week of congestive heart failure, and for whatever reason, she finally decided to tell me who the father was on her way out. Miles and I live on Bainbridge Island.” She passed Adrian a card. “This is my attorney. I have other things here. Pic—” Before she could finish her sentence, Adrian burst out, interrupting her. “Christ. There are easier ways to get money out of me. You’ve got a nice enough body, a pretty face. This is bullshit. I’ve heard this tune before. Didn’t work for her either.”

She blinked several times, her face noticeably paler than it was before.

But her back was ramrod straight as she let out a long breath. “You continue to return to this theme, no matter that I’ve not asked you for a single thing but your time. Miles is your son. I promised my sister to find you and now I have. Fat lot of good that’s done.” She had the nerve to look him up and down, finding him wanting.

He stood, the chair clattering behind him, so angry he barely registered the way she flinched before she recovered her composure. “I don’t give in to blackmail. I’ve dealt with whores and gold diggers plenty of times. You played me wrong, baby. We could have burned things up between the sheets. I’d have tossed some money your way. A lot easier than this bullshit.” That’s when she stood as well, grabbed her things, tucking the folder into her bag. Her jaw was tight, her gaze narrowed. Every movement was totally precise. Sharp. “You, my son, are a piece of work. No one calls me a whore and walks without a limp. So if you want to keep walking you’ll stay behind that table.

Bugger it all, you’re a sullen little boy. You don’t deserve Miles.” She headed out, pausing to put a few ones on the counter for the tea she’d never drink.

“You’d better go! If I see your face again or you contact any of my family, I’ll have you arrested for attempted blackmail.”

Gillian Forrester paused at the door and sneered. “You’re a pathetic little man. Never you worry, I’m done with you and it’s all your loss.”

Adrian did have to admire the way she sniffed at him and flounced out.

“Shall I call the police?” the server asked.

Brody spoke from where he’d been standing at the doorway. “No. It’s fine. Adrian, with me.” He indicated the tattoo shop and Adrian headed after his brother, ready to punch something.

She sat in her car, her hands shaking. Impotent anger, a familiar, bitter cocktail, sliding through her system as she fought tears of frustration.

What on earth was his problem? She’d given him Miles. What gift on the entire planet could mean that much? Surely the man had stuck his dick in more than one woman over the years. And yet he had the nerve to attack her?

Humiliation burned at the back of her throat, threatening to choke her. How many times had she had to face such a thing? Public ridicule had been something she’d dealt with on a regular basis back in Newham.

He hadn’t taken one second to think about what she’d told him. He didn’t know her and yet he’d judged her. How dare he? Adrian Brown with his carefully constructed wardrobe of clothes that probably cost more than her couch. He found her wanting? Oh ho! Who the fuck was he?

He’d shown his true colors, the spoiled idiot. And now she’d kept her promise and could go on with her life. Just as she had before.

Taking a long, steadying breath, she headed toward Phinney Ridge. Mary said they’d have Cuban sandwiches today and that sounded very good.

She’d tried. She really had. But she’d done her duty and there was nothing that would make her take any more abuse because the person was too blind to see the greatest gift life ever gave you.

He was a git. A bloody idjit and to hell with him and his pretty, sexy eyes and that drawl.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Brody pushed him into a chair.

“Did you hear that?” Adrian surged out of the chair to pace.

“I heard her tell you you had a thirteen-year-old son. I didn’t hear her ask you for money. Not once. I heard you call her a whore though. I’m sure everyone in the café did.”

“What the fuck is wrong with people, Brody? Huh? What did I ever do but be nice to people and look what it gets me.”

Anger burned in his belly that this woman could get under his skin so deep and then use it to hurt him with what he wanted so much.

“What if she’s telling the truth? Have you thought of that for one second? My god, Adrian, are you going to try to tell me you never fucked random women you don’t remember?”

“I think I’d remember if I had a kid, for fuck’s sake! You remember the last one. It was a baby then. We were just lucky I was on tour in Europe for six months and couldn’t have been the father. All the money I had to throw at lawyers and then the fucking label was all up in my face about publicity and media this and that to make me look nice. I was hung out to dry on all the gossip sites. People called me a deadbeat, for fuck’s sake. All because some stranger needed some cash and decided to pretend some other guy’s kid is mine.”

Brody sighed heavily and sat on the edge of his desk. “Shut up. Just stop talking for a second and listen.” He did stop because he rarely heard that tone in his brother’s voice. Displeasure and disappointment. In Adrian.

“You can’t look at the world like this. You can’t just suspect everyone because of what some people did.

I’m not saying you should automatically believe her. But you’re not even paying attention to what happened.”

Adrian tapped his thumb and then his pinky to his thigh, over and over, faster and faster.

“She came here to tell you the details and you didn’t let her speak. No, you flirted with her and all. She’s lovely so I get that. But then she tries to explain and instead of getting more detail from her you yell insults at her in a crowded café.

“She said—and I heard because I was listening—that her sister didn’t tell her for the boy’s whole life who the father was. She found out a week ago and she came to you pretty quickly.”

“How the fuck can I believe her? Huh?”

“You’re a stupid asshole sometimes, Adrian. Yes, some nasty skank tried to extort money from you with the daddy card in the past. But the guy I know and love surely understands he can’t judge all and sundry by the acts of some dumb bitch.

“You’d just turn your back on this because why? Huh? Do you think I’d just sit here knowing I could have a nephew out there, not even thirty miles from here? Do you think I could turn my back on a boy who was yours? Huh? And the real question is, can you?” Chastened, Adrian sat, hard.

“If she’s telling you the truth, do you realize what she just risked? If she’s telling the truth, don’t you want to know? If you have a kid, how can you not follow up? Are you saying you don’t care?” He heaved a giant sigh. “I’m afraid.”

His brother just listened.

“I’m afraid to hope that it’s true and then what if it isn’t? Chances are it’s not. That’s not how this works.” Brody’s anger softened and he blew out a breath. “I get that. But you can’t ignore it. Look, she contacted you. She gave you personal details. She gave you her attorney’s card. There is no reason we can’t get an answer. The boy can get a DNA test and that’s all you need. If she’s lying, we can figure out if she’s trying to extort money from you, or if her sister duped her too. If our kin is out there in the world, we need to know. You’re a good man, Adrian. Strong. Loving to your family and friends. I know you better than anyone in the world. I love you and I believe in you. You can be a good father too. I’ve seen you with my kids, with Alexander and I know this with every part of my being. You have so much love in you.”

“I know! I want that so much it’s not funny. I’ve been wondering about contacting an agency to adopt if I can’t find the right woman in a few years and do it that way. I want children.” He sighed as Brody sent him that damned knowing raised brow of his.

“All right. I’ll call Cope, see what he’s found out and we’ll get my attorneys on this. I don’t have to deal with Gillian Forrester at all. Not until we know answers.”

“I’ve got your back on this. You know that. I’m here for whatever you need.” Brody clapped his shoulder.