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Authors: Linda Warren

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She didn’t shift under that burning gaze. “You said you’d abide by the judge’s decision without any ill will.”

“Yes, I seem to remember saying that.” He got up, crushed his can with one squeeze of his big hand and threw it into the trash can under the sink. He turned to look at her, his hands on his hips. “What are you doing here, Grace?” Suddenly, all that easy friendship was gone.

By the look in his eyes she knew she had to be completely honest. She had to lay her feelings on this table of honor and see if there was any magic left in it. She stood, gathering thoughts in her head. What she said now would sustain or destroy their tenuous relationship.

“Ever since I’ve known you I seem to accomplish the amazing feat of putting my foot in my mouth whenever I talk to you. When I get nervous, my mouth goes into overdrive. And you make me nervous. I’ve worked around men most of my life, but you reach a part of me no one ever has, my feminine side. For four years I’ve hoped you would ask me out.” She took a breath as the truths poured out of her mouth.

“I’ve finally realized that’s never going to happen. You’ve made it very clear how you feel about me, but I kept hoping until I saw the look in your eyes in my office. You really dislike me. And I didn’t feel very good about myself, either.” She looked directly at him. “If I had known you were involved with the Brady Harper case, I would never have taken it.”

“And now?”

She blinked. “What?”

“Do you feel the Templetons are better for Brady?”

“What difference does it make?”

His eyes darkened even more. “It matters to me. How do
you
feel?”

She glanced at the table. “I feel that Brady’s name should be on this table.”

He walked toward her. Her hair was in disarray, a smudge was on her cheek and a stain covered her right shoulder. Yet, she’d never looked more beautiful. His eyes centered on the T-shirt. I’m a Good Kisser.

“Is that true?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t lie about that, but the judge has ruled and there’s nothing else to do.”

He realized she was talking about Brady. He was talking about the message on the T-shirt. He felt as if he’d just been sucker punched in the most pleasant way. Never, not for one second, did he ever think she might be attracted to him. The first inkling he’d had was when he touched her breast that day in this kitchen. There was something between them. He’d felt it then and he felt it now.

He pointed to her breasts. “I meant the message on your shirt.”

“What?” She frowned, glancing down. “Oh.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Is that true?”

“You’ll never know, Jeremiah Tucker,” she said with a gleam in her eyes. “Good night.”

He caught her before she reached the door, sliding his arms around her and pulling her close to his body. “I don’t have boots on. Let’s dance.”

“What? There’s no music.”

“We’ll make our own.”

Tuck turned her round and round, hearing music somewhere in his head. Pulling her closer, he molded her body to his. Sam jumped up and down, barking at them. Neither heard the yelping dog. They were in step with a different sound, the music of falling in love.

Tuck stopped moving and cupped her face, taking her lips softly, gently. She moaned and he deepened the kiss, tasting, discovering everything new and exciting about Grace.

Her hands curled around his neck into his hair and he was totally lost in a sensation that blocked all his reasoning. He wanted her, just like that day in his kitchen. He wanted her as he’d never wanted a woman before. That scared him. He was losing something he always had—control.

Taking a long breath, he rested his forehead against hers. “You’d better go while you still can.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.” Her dreamy, husky voice wrapped around him.

“Mmm.” He ran his tongue along her lower lip.

The ringing of the phone was like a douse of cold water.

“Damn. I have to get it. It might be important.” He released her and moved toward the phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her slip out the door. “Grace…”

He restrained himself from going after her, realizing they needed time. Suddenly his world was looking a whole lot better.

That T-shirt was right.

CHAPTER NINE
 

G
RACE WENT TO SLEEP
with a smile on her face, but by morning the smile had disappeared. Was she going to be like hundreds of other women, waiting for him to call? Sadly she wasn’t too clear on the rules of dating. But she’d read enough magazines to know that one kiss didn’t guarantee he’d call—even though it was one hell of a kiss.

Last night had been magical, like something out of a movie. She could be heading for a heartache, but she didn’t care. Excitement simmered in her veins and she felt young and a little crazy.

She quickly dressed in a black sleeveless dress and a black-and-white matching jacket. Brushing her hair, her hand paused. She wasn’t going to spend the day waiting for a phone call.
It was a kiss, Grace. Get over it.

At least they’d reached an amicable peace. She wouldn’t obsess about what happened next. She’d be too busy.

In her office, she went over her schedule. The meeting with Derek Mann was at two. She needed to talk to Byron before then. She had reservations he might be able to explain.

Nina buzzed through. “Ms. Whitten, Chuck is here.”

“Send him in.” This was excellent timing—she needed something concrete to substantiate her doubts, or facts to put them to rest.

As she waited she stared at the phone, wondering if Tuck was going to call. So much for not obsessing. How was she going to keep her mind on business?

The door opened and Chuck walked in. His rumpled clothes looked as if he’d slept in them. He laid a file on her desk. “Everything in that file is false. Derek Mann’s career was bought and paid for by Emmett Cavanaugh.” Right to the point—she liked that about Chuck.

Grace opened the file. “You mean the East Texas oil tycoon and billionaire?”

“The one and only.” Chuck eased onto the edge of a chair.

“What’s the connection?”

“Stepson. Clarissa Perez Mann married Cavanaugh twenty years ago when he was fifty-two and she was thirty-two. Her son was fifteen at the time.”

Grace closed the file. “Give it to me in a nutshell.”

“Derek was always in trouble. His father is out of the picture, serving time for a failed armed bank robbery. Clarissa is a very beautiful Latina and Cavanaugh was captivated with her. He wasn’t crazy about the son but they came as a package deal. Derek failed all through Baylor, but he managed to graduate with stellar grades, same in law school. Cavanaugh’s money is all over the campus. Can’t prove anything, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out.”

Chuck reached for the antacids in his pocket and popped a couple into his mouth. “The last year of law school there was a wild party with drugs in his apartment. He was arrested for rape. The charges were quickly dropped and Mann was moved rather abruptly to Houston. You can guess how he got a law degree. My sources tell me Cavanaugh paid someone to take the bar for him. After that, Mann got some pretty impressive jobs with judges who owed Cavanaugh favors. At the last job, in Boston, Mann beat up a young woman rather badly. Again, the charges were dropped, but he no longer has a job at that firm. That’s been a pattern. Seems no one is immune to the big bucks. It bought Derek Mann a rather impressive career.” Chuck waved a hand, munching on antacids. “Look at the photos in the back of the file.”

Grace gaped at the face of a battered young woman. The left side of her face was black, blue and purple. Her eye was swollen shut.

“That’s what he did to a young clerk in the Boston law firm. She’s now living in Florida in the lap of luxury and Cavanaugh is trying to get Mann to Texas, closer to his mama.”

Grace leaned back in her chair, never expecting anything like this. “How did you get this information?”

Chuck rubbed his hands together. “Mostly by asking. My friend at the police station knew an officer in Waco who worked the rape case. I can’t prove much of anything. The records are gone, but where you find Cavanaugh’s money being spent in a big way, you’ll find Mann in some sort of trouble. Mann’s bad news.”

“Thank you, Chuck.” She leaned forward. “I really appreciate this.”

“No problem.” He stood. “If you need evidence, it’s gone, especially in Texas. Boston had some, like those pictures, mainly because an officer held on to them.”

“I don’t have to prove it in a court of law,” she told him. “I just needed to know.”

Chuck nodded and walked out.

Her father’s motives became clear now. There had been a lot of changes in Washington and evidently his seat in Congress was in jeopardy. Emmett Cavanaugh’s support and backing could assure Stephen of a win. But at what price?

Grace did not want Derek Mann in her law firm. And it was
her
law firm. She had to make that perfectly clear.

Talking to Byron was out of the question now. She knew without a doubt that Byron was in on her father’s plans. Pity he didn’t see fit to tell her. Anger curled through her stomach. Because she was a woman and his daughter, Stephen thought he could use and manipulate her to his benefit, as always. The meeting this afternoon was going to be very interesting. She was so glad she’d gone with her gut and checked out Mr. Mann.

Her cell buzzed and she jumped. She was so deep in thought that it startled her. She clicked on, not looking to see who it was.

“Good morning, Grace.” The deep voice filled her ear and all her anger dissipated.

“Good morning.”
He’d called.

“You left in rather a hurry last night.”

“I didn’t want to appear too obvious.”

She could feel him smiling and her pulse raced.

“Are you free this evening?”

“Yes.” She’d waited four years for this invitation. No way was she being coy or using an excuse to look at her schedule. She’d rearrange, reschedule or whatever it took to spend time with him.

“Good. Would you like to go out for dinner and dancing at a real Texas honky-tonk? And I promise music this time.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she found herself saying. “I liked the music we had last night.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “I guess you have to work today?”

She laughed a sound that warmed her whole body. “Yes.”

“Me, too. I’m on my way to see Brady, to say goodbye. I don’t know if he’ll understand but I still have to do it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know, and that means a lot. I’ll pick you up about seven. Is that okay?”

“Wonderful.”

Grace clicked off and held the phone to her face for a moment. He’d called and she couldn’t believe how good that made her feel.

 

 

T
UCK SAT AT THE SMALL TABLE
in the hospital playroom watching Brady stack building blocks. The sores on his scalp were healing and Tuck hoped the scars on his soul were, too.

“Hey, buddy, could we talk for a minute?”

Brady looked at him with big eyes.

Jennifer walked in. “Snack time.” She placed animal crackers and apple juice on the table.

“Thank you,” Tuck said. “Double shift today?”

“Yes, a nurse called in sick.” Jennifer shook her head, watching Brady and Tuck. “There’s something wrong with that judge’s thinking.”

“We all want what’s best for Brady,” he told her.

“Yes.” Jennifer didn’t say another word and quietly left.

Brady sucked on the straw in the apple juice while Tuck opened the crackers. Brady suddenly tried to yank them out of his hand.

Tuck held them out of Brady’s reach, pointing a finger at him to get his attention. “No,” he said sternly. “Be nice and I’ll give you one.”

Today it worked. Brady didn’t hit or slap him, but waited patiently for the cracker. Tuck gave it to him and he munched away.

“Would you like to have a tea party, buddy? No, well, I don’t think guys have tea parties, anyway. Katie has tea parties.”
But you’ll never know her.
“And Beau and Zoë have tea parties.”
You’ll never know them, either.

Tuck handed him another cracker. “Soon you’ll have new parents who will love you and they will never hurt or abandon you. You’ll live in a nice home, have all the toys you want and never go hungry again.” He felt the thickness in his throat and swallowed it back. “I won’t be coming back, Brady. I hope you understand that I’m not abandoning you. I would never do that. I hope someday someone will tell you that I hung in to the end. You won’t remember, but I will.”

He swallowed again. “This is goodbye, buddy.”

Brady held out his hand for another cracker and Tuck’s heart almost pounded out of his chest. That one simple action showed Tuck that Brady was hearing and interacting in his own way. He placed several crackers in Brady’s outstretched hand. Brady poked them into his mouth.

“Goodbye, Brady,” Tuck said and rose to his feet.

Brady ran and grabbed a ball and rolled it to Tuck.

Tuck winced inwardly.
Brady, don’t do this. Not today. I have to be able to walk out of here.

With his foot, he rolled the ball back. He was grateful when Jennifer appeared. He raised his hand in farewell at the door before he walked away.

Brady just stared forlornly after him, hugging the ball tightly to his chest.

Tuck poked the elevator button with a hand that shook slightly. At that moment he knew that Lisa and Keith Templeton could not love Brady more than he did.

That was a reality he had to live with.

 

 

G
RACE AND
B
YRON
were meeting before the interview with Mann to go over his résumé and their interview strategy. She was ready. Her father hadn’t called all morning and Grace thought that a little strange considering what she knew. Maybe Stephen had just promised Cavanaugh an interview for his stepson. But Grace knew better than that. The political scratching of one’s back required a lot more than perfunctory gestures.

It didn’t matter. She was fully prepared to handle the situation.

She opened the door to the boardroom and stopped short. Her father sat at the table with Byron. So that’s why he hadn’t called. He was here in person.

Stephen got up and kissed Grace’s cheek. “Hi, sweetheart.”

She didn’t return the kiss. “What are you doing here, Dad?”

He shrugged. “Your mother wanted to see Jesse and I thought I’d come into the city to make sure the interview goes smoothly.”

Grace laid her briefcase on the table. “And you doubt my ability to do that?”

“Oh, no, sweetheart.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

A look passed between Byron and her father.

“I think you’re unaware of the clout and the prestige Mann will bring to the firm.”

“I’m very aware of what Mann will bring to this firm. I did my homework, Dad. You taught me that.” She snapped open her briefcase and the sound resonated around the room. Pulling out Derek Mann’s folder, she threw it onto the table. Several photos of battered girls slipped out. “Let’s talk about Derek Mann.”

Another look passed between Stephen and Byron.

“Stop looking at Byron. He’s your lapdog and will do your bidding, even attempt to warm me up for this atrocious farce.”

“Sweetheart, you’re upset.”

“Yes, I’m upset that you’re trying to manipulate me. You have nothing to do with this law firm anymore, so I’m asking once again, what are you doing here?”

“Grace…”

“I make all hiring decisions on what I feel is right for this firm.
Me,
Dad, not you, I make decisions based on facts and performances. Using those criteria, Derek Mann is not even on the page.”

Stephen was silent for a moment, but Grace knew her father never admitted defeat. He was known for his bulldog tendencies, especially when his career was at stake. “This is important to me, Grace.”

“Then tell me the truth.”

“Things are changing all over the country. People want change. I’m just doing what I’ve always done, fighting to keep my position in Congress. I thought my daughter would be glad to help.”

“Maybe she would be if you had treated her like an adult and told her the truth.”

“I’m telling you now.” His chin jutted out. “So Mann’s a little off the wall. He can be controlled. Cavanaugh assured me of that.”

She looked at this man who was her father. She’d idolized him, wanting to walk in his footsteps. But today she got a glimpse of her hero with feet of clay. Truth was an evasive tactic politicians used to their own advantage. Most of the time no one saw through it, but Grace had a clear view now.

Stephen knew her weakness—his approval. Everything she’d done in her life she’d done to obtain his approval and he’d used it for his own ends. She was his puppet, keeping the law firm running just the way he wanted.

Those responsibilities were the chains that bound her. Those were the chains making her so restless, so unsure of her life. She’d had a glimpse of what life was all about, a little boy who needed love and a man’s kiss that made her feel alive.

Without a second thought, she drew out a piece of paper from her briefcase and began to write, talking as she scribbled. “I will not hire Derek Mann. I will not jeopardize the reputation of this firm and I certainly will not jeopardize the safety of the women working here.” She handed the paper to her father. “If you’re so set on hiring Mann, then you’ll have to do it yourself. I resign and turn the firm back to you. I’m done.” Grabbing her briefcase, she headed for the door.

“Grace, come back here,” her father shouted, but she kept walking.

She didn’t go to her office. There was nothing there she needed. She took several cleansing breaths and let them out, feeling liberated, feeling free. Jumping into her car, she drove away. Everything she’d worked for, everything she’d thought was her life was behind her.

 

 

G
OING TO HER APARTMENT
was out of the question. Her parents would eventually show up there, trying to make her change her mind, trying to make her see reason, as she was sure they would put it. Everything had to be sacrificed for her father’s career. That was the Whitten mantra, but not anymore. She would not sacrifice her integrity.

BOOK: Adopted Son
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