Hidden Shadows (The Shadow Series Book 1) (7 page)

With a whip of her head, her silky hair snaked behind her shoulders as she stomped off down the hall and disappeared through a door marked Staff.

After a moment, Ben leaned down and took a gulp of cold water from the fountain.

He had never known a woman to be more attractive when she was angry and agitated. He hadn’t even know that was possible. Until now.

Smiling, he walked to find Heidi.

FOUR

“Can you believe his arrogance?” Jenna fumed, churning her spoon through the doughy mix that would serve as the crust for tonight’s homemade pizza.

For the last fifteen minutes, she’d let out her frustration through beating eggs, kneading dough, and talking relentlessly to Robin about the now infamous Bennett Aston and his complete sneak-attack on her at the office yesterday.

She craned her neck in the direction of her phone that lay on the counter as she transferred dough to pan.

“I mean, he’s obviously a jerk, right? To think he can corner me, ruffle my feathers—on my own turf! Not to mention we
just
met and he has the nerve, the
nerve
, to suggest . . . well, to suggest that I’m attracted to him.”

“You are attracted to him,” Robin said dryly.

“Attractive or not, he’s a jerk.”

“Five minutes ago you said he was thoughtful and considerate for coming with his sis-in-law when it was clear he was uncomfortable with all things pregnant.”

Crap, Robin did always listen well.

Since it was certain to come back to haunt her, Jenna was glad she hadn’t revealed any of the other interesting and non-jerky things she’d observed about Ben.

While it had been quite clear any mention of a woman conceiving, carrying, or delivering a baby made Ben squirm, it was also very evident that he was aware Heidi’s pregnancy was concerning in its high-risk category. Jenna could tell by the way he leaned forward, those sharp green eyes focusing directly on her mouth forming the words when she had discussed the health of the baby, signs Heidi should watch for, precautions she might take, and any indicators that could signal the baby was in distress.

She couldn’t help but admire a man who cared like that.

She also didn’t miss when he mentioned offhand that Heidi lived with him. Though neither Heidi nor Ben had discussed further the reason for their living together, Jenna would bet Ben was stepping in to alleviate the absence of the long-lost brother and husband. Another testament to his commitment and loyalty.

Words without action meant little to Jenna. She’d heard love in every way imaginable from Keith, but at the end of the day, when you ended up in someone other than your wife’s bed, actions clearly trumped words.

“So he made a nice gesture,” Jenna admitted. “That doesn’t excuse his attempt to sabotage me. At work, no less.”

“Honey, it’s called coming on to you. And from the way you said he looked, I wouldn’t mind if he came to my work and distracted me a bit."

Jenna scoffed as she spread the dough and shaped it to the rounded pan. “You can have him. My vow, remember?”

“Please. A man like that comes along once, every what—hundred thousand years? A hottie that helps his pregnant in-law and is clearly attracted to you, too, is not to be passed up. Plus, the man is a landscaper. How much better can this get for you? Big lawn, no time to maintain it. And you’ve always said you wished you could bring your front beds back to their glory days. He is the solution.”

She popped open the can of red sauce, dumped it on the dough, begin to spread. “I am not getting involved with someone for the use of his skills.”

“Jenna, I’m not saying you have to marry the guy, just have a fling for a while. Date, have some fun. You might even end up liking his skills!” Robin let out a hoot of laughter.

“I’m hanging up now.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, yeah. You always just
say
.” Jenna grabbed her phone as she crossed the kitchen to gather cheese, veggies and the kids' other favorite toppings from the refrigerator. “I do need to go though. Gotta finish this pizza and get it in the fridge before I pick up the kids.”

“Keith a no-show?”

“Yep.”

“What about Katelyn?”

“Late basketball practice. Season’s gearing up, so I’ve been passed the job. I took off a little early today to make sure I could."

“Oh, and how convenient,” Robin chirped. “Didn’t you say that a certain someone has stepped in as Dawson’s karate teacher?” Jenna could all but hear the grin spreading across her friend’s face. "Is that fate I hear knocking at your door?”

“Ha,” Jenna exhaled, rinsing a handful of mushrooms, “fate’s gonna have to knock a little harder. I gave up on it a long time ago.”

Driving to get the kids, Jenna switched the radio from station to station trying to suit her mood. Realizing she must be too old to appreciate all of the new country music, she popped in an old favorite Reba CD and brooded over Robin’s words.

In their fifteen-year friendship, Jenna had come to realize that Robin was usually right. As college suitemates they’d become best friends, then more like sisters when a year later they met and began dating friends Erik MacCabe and Keith Gregor. Robin paired up with Erik, Jenna with Keith.

Robin chose better.

Over the years and after their marriages, Robin and Jenna remained close while Erik and Keith drifted. Erik saw success in his career, moved up the ladder with hard work and an affable charm. But home is where his heart remained. He was active in the church they all attended, made friends there, and he and Robin’s relationship flourished. Keith had no problem attaining professional success either, but his could largely be attributed to grabbing people off the ladder and throwing them down on his way up. His job took him away for weeks at a time. He had friends no one else knew and slept in hotel rooms alone. Even when he was home, he didn’t seem too thrilled about his time there.

Still, when he waked in the door one day, packed a suitcase, and told Jenna he had another woman and would be back for the rest of his things, it was a shock. To Jenna and everyone else.

Friends and family knew he’d been drifting, and truth be told he and Jenna never had the dream marriage, but no one had ever expected him to leave his wife after they’d tried so hard to make a family.

Their journey to children had not been a brief or easy one. That his departure came a mere two months after the baby boy Keith had always wanted arrived seemed an even more bitter blow.

Jenna could still see herself, like an out of body experience, sitting down slowly at the kitchen table, the dishtowel dropping from her hand to a heap on the floor, putting her head in her hands, thinking she would cry, but in the end being too numb to do anything.

The first person she’d called after finally getting up was Robin. Not her mother or her sister, but her best friend.

When Robin reached her house in record time, Jenna finally broke down. Cried until she literally couldn’t anymore. She was empty inside then.

But no more. In part, thanks to Robin and her lifeline of consistency, support, and unquestionable camaraderie.

That she and Robin both experienced similar trouble in conceiving only brought them closer. They had decided around the same to extend their families, never knowing that months and years of trying would follow.

Jenna had always known she wanted to be a nurse, but she and Robin’s experiences—along with Robin’s backing——would give her the strength and desire to help women like herself and her friend.

Months into the journey, Jenna finally got pregnant with Jacy, and three years later, Dawson came much easier.

Robin still hadn’t got the chance to be a mother, which proved to be one of the only touchy subjects in their friendship.

One of life’s little games
, Jenna thought as she made her way through the stragglers of Spring Hill’s mild rush hour traffic. She had the kids, with an absent dad. Robin had the perfect dad but no kids.

See, you couldn’t rely on fate.

Jenna pulled into the brightly lit parking lot of the old factory that had been converted into a haven for children’s activities.

Inside were a gymnasts’ arena, tennis court, and playland complete with tunnels, ladders, and slides—and what her children particularly loved——the dance studio and martial arts center.

After breezing through the entrance doors painted a bright yellow and into the chaos and fun of Kidz Land, she ventured down the back left hallway that housed dance, art, and karate classrooms.

The dance studio was first in the lengthy hall, its large lilac sign boasting artistic sketches of dancers performing in a variety of styles.

Jenna popped her head in and saw Jacy at the bar. The girl caught a glimpse of her mother in the mirror and beamed.

“You ready, Jace?” Jenna called, smiling.

Jacy nodded and swung her heel off the bar, running to meet Jenna at the door.

“Wonderful job again this week, Jacy!” her teacher called from the center of a quartet of tiny ballerinas.

Jacy grinned shyly and pressed her face into Jenna’s side as she wrapped her reedy arms around her mother. “Thank you, Miss Laurel.”

Rising from the group, Miss Laurel walked, gracefully of course, to the door. Jenna could have easily envied the beautiful young teacher—that skin, that body!—but Laurel was so darn sweet it was impossible.

Her long, narrow fingers tapped Jenna’s wrist as she reminded, “Don’t forget the recital’s on Friday the thirtieth, Ms. Gregor. It’ll be a Halloween horror!”

“Got it,” Jenna assured. “We’ll be there.” Looking down to Jacy she asked, “Got your stuff?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Okay. Can you grab it and wait here while I go down the hall to get Dawson?”

Jacy was already hopping away before she could finish, so Jenna headed out and continued down the corridor.

Before she even had time to hope that her son would be waiting at the door, the black signage with its red lettering proclaiming ‘Strong, safe, smart—Marital Arts’ had her stopping again.

She did not see or hear the evidence of little boys (and one most certainly always heard her little boy), so she took a deep breath and prepared to enter. G
et in and get out
, she told herself.

She pushed open the door. And rammed into a block of big, broad shoulders. She inhaled sharply, as both she and the frame filling the entry said “Sorry,” simultaneously.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

Without even having to look up, Jenna knew who it was. Knew who that teasing male voice belonged to. She plastered on a smile and brushing at herself absently, looked past him as she stifled, “Hello, Mr. Aston.”

“Now I thought we decided it was just plain old Ben and Jenna.”

“Yes, well, that’s just fine then. Ben it is.” Since she could feel him staring at her, she finally met his eyes.

Mistake. Big mistake.

His thick black hair was a mess, tousled atop his head. Sweat formed in thin beads on his forehead, brows, and neck. A small drop ran down his left temple. His black uniform intensified the green of his eyes while displaying the width and strength of his tanned neck and shoulders. His lips, full and straight, were curved now, showing straight white teeth as he grinned mischievously.

Yes, looking at him was a mistake. It clouded her head, gave her a little jolt in the belly.

How was she supposed to maintain her single and celibate vow when a straight, unattached man was looking at her like this?

There had to be a catch somewhere. There always was.

“Are you all right?” he asked, taking her shoulders gently. “I didn’t mean to knock you over.”

“No, no. I’m fine.” She brushed his touch away, looked past him again. “My apologies, too. I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m here to get Dawson.”

“Of course.”

When he made no attempt to move, she politely shoved past him, muttering “Excuse me,” as their bodies brushed against one another.

She felt his eyes on her as she walked away and hated herself for hoping those squats she’d recently added to her home workouts had paid off.

Smaller learning centers branched off from the large, central
dojo
and Jenna followed the sounds to find a group of three and four-year-olds chopping, kicking, and kiai-ing with a handful of older boys that had already arrived for their evening class.

Dawson saw her approaching and came running. She bent, gave him a quick hug and walked him to the cubbies in the corner of the main training room to gather up his things.

On their way out, she did the only thing a woman could do in a situation like this—use her child as a blockade between her and her nuisance. She chatted like a jackrabbit, firing rapid questions at her boy. How was class? How was school? Was he hungry? What did he want for dinner?