Bailey gave a little laugh and tossed her head. “We’re all bringing our kids. Brady will fit right in. If it’s too cold to play outside, we lock them in the basement.”
“Bailey,” Chloe chided. “We do not get locked in the basement. We play pool and video games. Brady will have fun. And Grandma’s making homemade pizza. It’s the bomb. Will you come? Please.”
“Is Flynn coming?” Brady asked.
Bailey tossed up her hands. “Sure. Why not? He’s Ryker’s brother. That makes him part of the family.”
“Then, why are we invited?” Kat asked, too exhausted—both emotionally and physically—to care if the blunt question sounded rude.
“Because Sarah said so.”
Chloe and Bailey looked at each other and nodded, as though those four words were the gospel truth.
Before Kat could answer, a hospital representative arrived with the paperwork to release Brady. After a flurry of signatures, they were free to go. Brady hopped off the bed with surprising zeal. “Can Mark and Chloe ride with us so they can finish watching the show?”
Kat looked at Bailey. “Um…that depends on Bailey.”
Bailey gave her generous boobs a little pat. “Have milk, will travel. Why not? Arya and I will follow you, if you’re not too wiped out for company.”
Wiped out didn’t begin to describe how Kat felt but curiosity—her ridiculously predictable namesake’s downfall—made her answer, “We could have tea.”
Half an hour later, the two women were alone in Kat’s combination kitchen and dining nook with a pot of chamomile between them.
“We’ll come on Friday,” Kat said, having thought about her answer the whole way home. “But only because I want to thank everyone for their help rescuing Brady, and to apologize to your father-in-law for any anguish we’ve caused him.”
Bailey shrugged. “Getting shook out of your comfort zone isn’t the worst thing, believe me. When I moved home from California, I told myself I was coming back to help my parents. Truth was I needed them more than they needed me. And the Zabrinskis had ample reason not to welcome me with open arms.” She looked past Kat as if recalling something painful. “But once they make up their minds that you’re one of them, there’s no going back. Individually, each is larger-than-life, so, collectively, they’re a force to be reckoned with.” She grinned and added, “In a good way.”
Kat sipped her tea as she digested Bailey’s words. Would it matter one way or another if they
adopted
her and Brady? “I’m thinking about moving back to Texas.”
Bailey reached across the table and squeezed Kat’s free hand. “Don’t run away, Kat. Trust me, it never works. The what-ifs and could-have-beens will come back to haunt you.”
“But hanging around Marietta will keep the hint of scandal alive. Your in-laws deserve better than that.”
Bailey’s face lit up with a wide smile. “Scandal? Ha! Let me tell you a few of the Zabrinski family scandals, so you have something to compare to Brady’s adorable accusation. Did you know Paul’s great-grandmother was a gypsy witch who supposedly put a spell on a corrupt banker who died a few weeks later of a mysterious and sudden illness?”
Kat looked at her doubtfully. “I thought Brady made that up.”
“Oh, girlfriend, I’m just getting started.”
When Bailey and the kids left an hour or so later, Kat’s head felt like it might explode. She fixed supper for her son on autopilot, and then sat beside him on the couch as he chortled at some mindless comedy before tucking him in bed and kissing him goodnight.
After a long, hot bath, she crawled into bed, hugging
Flynn’s
pillow to her chest. Tears of relief and/or regret soaked the pillowcase. She missed him so much.
If this past week taught her anything it was you didn’t need a biological connection to create a family. Flynn was family…or could be—if she were brave enough to accept what he was offering. But could she do that to the man she loved? She’d watched the joy and humor disappear from her stepfather’s eyes as he took on the heavy burden of caregiver. She’d wept with him on those days when Mom didn’t recognize the man who loved her with all his heart.
The answer came through loud and clear as she rubbed the smooth stone of the ring he’d given her across her lips.
No. I can’t. I love Flynn too much to saddle him with me.
*
Flynn rapped lightly
on the door of Kat’s apartment. He still had the key she’d given him during their emergency hunt for Brady, but he felt uncomfortable using it. He’d left a couple of messages on her phone, but his calls went straight to voice mail.
“Damn,” he muttered under his breath.
He’d planned to come here straight after work, but a single car rollover on the pass that sent four people to the hospital required all-hands-on-deck, so to speak. Flynn coordinated the helicopter evac, which, thankfully, went smoothly. All four victims were going to recover.
What he had to tell Kat could wait till morning, but Flynn wasn’t sure he could wait that long. He shoved one hand into his pants pocket for his key ring, but before he could find the right key, he heard the sound of a lock being thrown.
The door opened a crack. “Flynn?” Kat asked, her voice thick and sexy with sleep. “What are you doing here? Is there an emergency?”
You could say that. I need you more than I need oxygen. Sounds pretty extreme to me.
“I have news. It could wait until tomorrow, but I think you’ll want to hear this sooner rather than later.”
“Oh, God,” she murmured, throwing open the door. “Come in, but be quiet. Brady’s asleep.”
“Then let’s go in your room so we can talk privately.”
Her left eyebrow arched suspiciously, but she shrugged and detoured away from the living room. “I’m half-awake and still reeling from an hour-long gab session with Bailey this afternoon. I promise you, nothing you say will make a dent in this foggy brain of mine.”
He followed, grinning broadly but keeping his opinion to himself. Although the hallway light wasn’t overly bright, he’d spotted his ring on her finger. Hope surged in his chest.
She plumped two pillows against the headboard and sat, pulling the covers around her waist. Her I Heart Montana sleep-shirt made her look sixteen.
He debated about where to sit—his libido warring with the part of his brain that knew the news he was about to deliver would come as a shock. Kat looked at him a moment before patting the mattress.
He dumped his jacket on a chair in the corner, pausing to remove the photos he’d printed off the Internet. One step and a hop and he nestled beside her.
“What’s going on?”
“I spoke with your father today.”
She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the headboard. “My father?”
“Yep. He lives in California. We did the math. We’re ninety-nine percent sure. He’ll be here tomorrow to take a DNA test.”
Her eyes flew open. “What are you talking about?”
He handed her the photos, one at a time, as he relayed everything Roger told him about his six-month fling with Grace Adair.
“His name is Roger Zabrinski. He’s Bob’s younger brother. He was living in Marietta to escape some sort of debacle in Las Vegas. Apparently, he woke up married after a night of revelry and his stripper wife wasn’t letting go without a hefty buyout.”
“He was married,” she murmured. “Mom told Brady she couldn’t marry a married man because it would have been sacrilegious.”
Flynn tried to remember Roger’s exact words. “I don’t think religion had anything to do with Roger’s situation. The woman sounds more like a con artist. While he was here, he met your mother and fell in love. He went back to Vegas to clean up the mess and get an annulment, but apparently, the woman had one of her low life friends fake a picture of them and send it to Grace. He figures that might have been what made your mother leave town so suddenly without giving him a chance to explain.”
She squirmed uncomfortably. “Did you ask him if there was a chance I’m his daughter?”
“Yes. And he didn’t hesitate, Kat. He said they were mad about each other. They made love every chance they got, and they weren’t very consistent about protection.”
Her brows knit. “He told you this? A perfect stranger?”
After I admitted I loved his daughter.
“I have mad people skills, didn’t you know?”
She fought a grin, but he quickly added, “Roger also said he made Grace promise if they did get pregnant and had a girl they’d name her Katherine.”
“W…why?” Kat asked, her gaze fixed on the photos of the man who might be her father.
“Apparently, it was his grandmother’s middle name. To paraphrase, ‘Hilda Katherine Zabrinski was a powerful woman and he wanted his daughter to have some of that fearlessness.’”
Kat’s laugh started as a hiccupped giggle before segueing into a sob. He pulled her into his arms and held her while she poured her heart into his soul. He loved this woman more than life. He understood exactly what Roger Zabrinski meant when he said, “I spent years and a small fortune trying to find Gracie. Sometimes, the woman you love controls your destiny.”
Flynn closed his eyes, recalling that part of his conversation, which he didn’t intend to share with Kat.
“I never married again,” Roger said. “How could I when every woman I dated wasn’t the one woman I loved with all my heart? Hey, I was no monk, but I made it clear from the start that I was a hopeless case. I blamed my crazy con artist ex. Once burnt, twice shy. But the truth is, I blew my chance with Gracie and a part of me figured I didn’t deserve another at bat.”
Once her sobs quieted, he stretched to reach for the box of tissues on her bedside table. He handed her a wad. She wiped her face and blew her nose, and then took a drink of water from the glass on her nightstand.
“I did not see that coming. How’d you figure this out?”
“Janet Haynes. She worked at Big Z’s that summer. She was fresh out of high school. She said watching Grace and Roger was better than any daytime soap opera.”
Kat made a choking laugh. “She would say that.”
“She also wanted me to tell you that she’s sorry for making your life miserable at work. She blamed her loyalty to your former boss. She hopes you’ll come back to the fold.”
“Really? Is my job still open?”
He nodded. “I haven’t hired anyone, yet…I’ve been a little busy. But I don’t want you back.”
Her jaw dropped. “You don’t? Why?”
“Because I love you, Katherine, and I have no intention of keeping that a secret.” He watched her digest his confession. Not the most romantic declaration of love, he guessed, but Flynn was tired of pussyfooting around. With this revelation about her birth father, everything was going to change. He needed her to know exactly where he stood.
“There’s an opening in the Sheriff’s Office if you’re interested. Different boss means no problem with fraternization. I’ll give you an excellent recommendation.”
She turned so she was facing him and gently framed his face with her hands and kissed him. Sweetly. Tenderly. “I love you, too, Flynn Bensen.”
Her grave tone should have warned him, but he still felt gobsmacked when she added, “Which is why I’m moving back to Texas.”
“When? Why? I don’t get it,” he said, taking her hands in his.
She pulled free and crossed her arms, like a schoolmarm preparing for a lecture. Something he didn’t want to hear. Excuses. Whatever reason she was telling herself still came down to one thing: he wasn’t the guy for her. He’d followed the wrong trail once again. He’d trusted his gut when he shouldn’t have, proving once again he didn’t know the first thing about love—what it was, how it felt, if it even existed.
He’d screwed up.
Again.
And pissed off didn’t begin to cover how he felt.
He practically levitated off the bed. He took two steps toward the door, then paused and said, “Never mind. I get it. You have your reasons. We had some fun. No harm. No foul. Good luck with your dad. I hope everything works out for you, Kat.”
She flinched at his use of her nickname.
Tough.
Katherine was the name of the woman he loved. Kat was the woman who broke his heart.
“Tell Brady good-bye for me.”
Short and sweet. The kind of ending you got when you rushed headlong into a relationship with a woman who, from the start, claimed she wasn’t looking for a happily-ever-after.
Like that shit even existed.
He didn’t slam the door on his way out. He wasn’t a door-slamming kind of guy. He was a disappear-into-the-wilderness-alone-to-lick-his-wounds sort of man. And he knew exactly where he’d go as soon as he made sure he had someone to cover for him at work.
In the short-term, he had another place to hide—his brand new house. The home he’d pictured sharing with Katherine, Brady and a couple of future kids.
You can dream, buddy boy, he told himself as he trudged to his truck.
Too bad he didn’t have the faintest idea how to make his dreams come true.
‡