Just a Kiss: The Bradfords, Book 5

Dedication

To all the fans who’ve been waiting for Kevin’s happily ever after!

To my friends and family who have listened to me plot, worry, whine and rewrite this book and who have always said the right things (like ‘have another glass of wine’ and ‘chocolate will help’)—especially Kim, PG, Nikoel, Lindsey and Mom.

And finally to all the Christian women in my life who are serious about their faith, but never take themselves too seriously.

And a very special thank you to Angela Gebhardt, Sarah Caldwell, Molly Dougherty and Wendy Kahland for answering ALL of my questions about child custody issues, guardianships, social work and everything else. Your patience, time and expertise are greatly appreciated!

Chapter One

Kevin Campbell had the best reason ever for wanting to fall madly in love and get married—to shut his friends up.

If he was happily, completely committed to a woman, his friends would stop talking about his love—and sex—life.

Or lack thereof.

“I just don’t understand why you can’t be a good Christian and still get blow jobs.” Doug Miller, affectionately known as Dooley, looked around at the other three men who made up their ambulance crew. “I mean, technically God invented sex and all that other stuff. He’s the one that made it so good. He shouldn’t be surprised that people want to do it, even if they do go to church.”

Kevin Campbell closed his eyes and groaned. They used to talk about
their
sex lives. All the time. In gory detail.

He missed those days.

“I don’t think He’s
surprised
exactly,” Mac Gordon commented.

Ever since all of his friends had committed themselves to monogamous relationships and family life, these kinds of conversations seemed to focus on Kevin. Apparently his playboy friends had moral standards after all, and one of them was not talking publicly about having sex with their wives and fiancées.

“It’s like somebody made chocolate chip cookies and you can see and smell them but they won’t let you taste them,” Dooley went on. “It’s cruel.”

“Women are like chocolate chip cookies?” Sam Bradford asked. “Or blow jobs are like chocolate chip cookies?”

“The
temptation
of blow jobs is like chocolate chip cookies,” Dooley said.

“Blow jobs might be like cookies,” Mac said, with clear appreciation of the topic. “But sex is like chocolate fudge brownies.” It was clear from the emphasis put on the words that Mac was a huge fan of chocolate fudge brownies.

“The not being able to have sex when there are gorgeous, sweet women around is like cookies,” Dooley insisted. “And I still say blow jobs aren’t really sex. When I get to Heaven, I’m asking God why Kevin can’t at least have oral sex.”

“Who says you’re going to Heaven?” Sam asked before he tipped his head back and tossed five M&Ms into the air one right after the other, catching all but one in his mouth. “Four,” he said, grinning at Mac as the fifth candy bounced and rolled across the floor.

Mac tipped his head back and tossed five more M&M’s into the air, catching all five. “I’m up by one.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. This could go on all night.

“You don’t think I’m going to Heaven?” Dooley stirred his coffee then tossed the plastic spoon in the garbage before taking his seat on the end of the dilapidated couch in the ER break room. “That’s bullshit. I’m totally going to Heaven.”

“Based on what?” Sam asked.

“Based on I’ve put up with you all these years,” Dooley shot back.

“Hey, Campbell.” Dan Morris strolled into the break room and headed for the coffee pot. “We just responded to a domestic disturbance call.”

“Yeah?” Kevin wasn’t sure why Dan felt the urge to tell him that. Kevin and the crew did domestic disturbance calls all the time. But Dan was interrupting a conversation Kevin definitely wanted interrupted, so he went with it. “Something interesting?”

“A woman stabbed man in the back of the hand with a fork at Spaghetti Works.”

“The one in the Old Market?” Mac asked. “No shit?”

“Okay,” Dan said, leaning against the counter and looking like he was eagerly anticipating the retelling of this story. “Apparently, this man and woman were having dinner and suddenly this other woman walks in with a kid. She tells the guy the kid’s his and he has to take him. Guy clearly knows the woman and is shocked to see her there. Guy’s wife knows nothing about it but immediately freaks out. A plate gets thrown, the wife ducks and it hits the guy in the eye. Then when he tries to step between the women, the younger one stabs him in the hand with the fork to get him to let go of her. Cops are called, we’re called because of the black eye and the hand. It was quite the scene.”

“Wow, more exciting than our night,” Kevin commented, because he felt like he needed to say
something
since Dan had made a point of addressing him.

“Oh, I haven’t told you the best part,” Dan said.

“What do you mean?”

“The guy’s name is Steve Campbell. His wife is Janice.”

Kevin’s entire body went cold.

No way. There could be another Steve Campbell in the area. Another Steve Campbell married to a Janice. Another Steve Campbell who took his wife Janice to Spaghetti Works every Monday.

But tonight was Monday and Kevin knew exactly which Steve and Janice Campbell had been there.

Oh…crap.

Kevin focused on Dooley, Sam and Mac. They were all staring at him.

Crap.

He stood swiftly and headed for the exam rooms. “Which room?”

“Four,” Dan called out. “But the girls are in the waiting room.”

Kevin immediately changed directions. He felt Dooley right on his heels.

“Calm down, Kev. There’s probably a good explanation.”

“Yeah? If so, I’m gonna get it.”

When he stepped into the ER waiting room he felt like he’d been dropped into the middle of a daytime tabloid talk show. A bad one. Two women faced off—one held a Styrofoam cup of coffee high, as if preparing to hurl it at any moment, and the other held a three-inch heel in a similar pose.

“Go ahead,” the one with the coffee said. “Do it. I dare you.”

“You think I’m stupid?” the younger woman sneered.

“Yes,” the other said. “I think you’re stupid. What did you think would happen? You thought he’d smile and say ‘fine’, buy the kid a Shirley Temple and everything would be good?”

“I think that it’s about damned time that he did something right. He doesn’t really have a choice, you know. He’s the father. He has to take him.”

“Hey, Sam!” Dooley called through the door leading to the back of the ER. “Get up here. And bring the popcorn.”

Kevin scowled at him.

The two women seemed not to notice anyone but each other. They were glaring at one another, neither willing to back down, or even blink.

“Bullshit,” the older of the two snorted. “He doesn’t have to do anything. Hasn’t he made that clear for the past ten years? If he wanted either of you, he’d have been there.”

“He’s been there,” the younger woman spat. “He’s given us money and—”

The older woman snarled and flung the coffee cup at the girl. Even off-balanced by wearing only one high heel, the girl moved in time to only have coffee splashed on her left thigh. Still, it clearly infuriated her because her shoe went sailing, clipping the other woman in the shoulder.

Just as Sam and Mac stepped into the waiting room.

Then it really got ugly. The women both lurched forward, claws drawn, insults flying. The older woman grabbed for the girl’s hair, yanking hard enough the girl yelped. But she had the benefit of youth and more flexibility. She bent at the waist and drove her head into the older woman’s stomach. The woman didn’t let go of the girl’s hair though, so together they stumbled and ended up on the floor.

“Bitch!”

“Tramp!”

“Pathetic!”

“Liar!”

Dooley, Sam and Mac had settled onto the nearest couch with, sure enough, a bag of popcorn. They were grinning widely as they watched the scene.

Kevin, on the other hand, had seen enough. He stepped forward with a sigh and yanked the girl off of the woman. She squirmed and fought but he outweighed her by at least one hundred pounds and he’d fought off defensive linemen who were even bigger than that. And madder.

The woman on the floor stared up at him, her eyes wide with fury and shock.

Kevin sighed again. “Hi, Mom.”

Janice Campbell scrambled to her feet and Kevin pushed the girl behind him. Thankfully, Dooley stood and took hold of her upper arms, keeping her back from Kevin’s mother. The girl was still spitting mad and Dooley had to hold on tight.

“What is going on?” Kevin demanded.

His mother had never been what he’d call particularly feminine or dainty. She was thin and wiry and strong. She and his father owned and operated a landscaping business, and even at age fifty-five she dug holes, carried big bags of fertilizer and worked in the sun and heat ten hours a day in the summer. Most of the time her fingernails were dirty, her hands had calluses and she had the tanned, leathery skin of someone who worked outside. Practicality called for her to wear her hair short and to dress in denim and T-shirts. She only wore make-up to weddings and funerals and she drank beer and swore. She was tough. The other girl had to be crazy to take her on.

In contrast, the younger woman—and it was clear she was much younger—wore a sundress and high-heeled sandals in spite of the fact that it was well into October. Her fingernails were manicured, her long hair hung loose and her lipstick looked intact.

His mother ran a hand through her hair and glared at the other woman. “That tramp came to the restaurant. She’s claiming that her son is your father’s.”

“I’m not claiming it,” the girl growled, wiggling hard in Dooley’s hold. “It’s true. He knows it. Ask him.”

This was bad.
Really
bad. But none of this scene was making anything better.

Janice stepped forward and Kevin held up a hand. “Don’t make me hold you back, Mom,” he said. He’d do it, but that would be even more humiliating for them both.

“I suspected something back then, but he swore to me it was nothing. He
promised
me nothing had happened.” Janice tore her gaze from the girl and focused on Kevin. “I believed him. I let him talk me into believing that.”

Kevin didn’t know what to say to her. His mother might be tough physically, but she was a woman who had been married to the same man for thirty-seven years. An affair was going to hurt badly. If it was true. He swung to face the other woman instead. “Who are you?”

She stared at him. “Heather. Dawson.”

The name made Kevin frown and look closer. “Heather?” She’d graduated a year ahead of him in high school.

Wow. This was really, really bad.

“And you…” He couldn’t say it.

“Had an affair with your father. Yeah,” she said bluntly.

Janice made a choking noise behind him and he moved closer, in case he needed to grab her. “Mom,” he said warningly.

“You can ask your father,” Heather said, lifting her chin. “We did the whole DNA thing ten years ago. Drew’s his. He knows it.”

“Fuck you!”

Before Kevin knew what was happening a plastic brochure holder flew past his shoulder, straight for Heather. With Dooley holding her, she couldn’t duck and it hit her in the nose.

The bleeding started immediately. Dooley swore and turned the girl toward the door leading to the exam rooms. “Kayla!” he barked. “Some help here!”

But as Kayla opened the door for him, Heather jerked out of his hold and sprinted at Janice. She pulled her hand back and slapped the older woman as hard as she could.

Janice grabbed the arm of a chair and yanked it forward—right into Heather’s shins. Heather yelled and shoved the chair back at Janice, catching her in one knee. The knee gave and Janice went to the floor, but on her way down, somehow, she managed to rake her stubby nails down Heather’s arm.

“Knock it off, both of you!” Kevin roared. This was ridiculous. Kevin grabbed his mother’s upper arm, jerking her to her feet. “For God’s sake!”