Текст книги "Nowhere but Here"

Автор книги: Renee Carlino

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

I watched him slowly take it in. He picked up a framed photo of my mother that was sitting on a small end table. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

“She was.”

Jamie was a presence in my small apartment. He stood near the counter, taking the food containers from the bags and opening them up. When I approached him, he removed his jacket to reveal a plain white T-shirt. I ran my hands up his forearms and studied his strange tattoos. They were interwoven in a pale reddish ink. “Did you get all of these in Africa?” He nodded. I brought his hands to my mouth and kissed them. He gently pulled me up to kiss his mouth. His hand went to the back of my neck, just below my injury. I winced. He quickly pulled away.

“See, we can’t do that,” he said.

“I’m fine.”

“It was too much. I could hurt you.”

“I’m okay.” I grabbed the food and carried it to the small square table at the edge of my kitchen where it met the living room. “What would you like to drink?”

“I’ll get it,” he said. “You sit down and eat.”

“I’ll have a beer,” I announced.

“I don’t think so, lush. You’re not allowed to drink on your medication.” I was taking a few different medications for the swelling and pain. “In fact, I think it’s time for one of your pills.”

We ate practically in silence. I was starving and Jamie just sat there and watched me like a hawk, searching for any indication that I wasn’t perfectly comfortable. I took my medication and within half an hour I was feeling very groggy and ready for a nap. He walked me to my bedroom and motioned for me to sit at the edge of my bed. He removed my shoes and placed a soft kiss on the tops of both feet. He reached for my hands and lifted me to a standing position and then unbuttoned my jeans.

“I can undress myself. Shouldn’t you check your blood sugar?”

“I’m fine.” He pinched my chin with his thumb and forefinger and lifted my face until we were gazing into each other’s eyes. “I like undressing you.” He left me in panties and my T-shirt and then tucked me into bed.

“Aren’t you getting in here with me?”

“I would love to, but I think you need to get your rest. I have a few things to take care of. I need to call Susan and get my stuff from the hotel. Dylan said he would come and watch you so I could do that.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Well, I would feel better with someone here.”

Page 16
Check Your Sources

We spent the next week figuring out how to exist in such a small place together when Jamie wouldn’t allow me to do anything except lay around, read or watch TV. We had our first fight over whether or not I was allowed to bend down and shave my own legs . . . seriously.

“I can do it for you. I’m very good with a razor.”

“You’re insane. You’re not shaving my legs.”

“I don’t think you should dip your head down, it might make you dizzy in the shower.”

“You need to back off a little.” We were standing inches apart, face-to-face near the bathroom door. He towered over me, making me feel like a child.

“No, I won’t!” He said in a determined voice. “That’s what I did before, and you ended up almost bleeding out on a fucking subway.”

“This is not the same thing. Nothing is going to happen to me. You’re smothering me.”

“I’m going for a run. Please wait to take a shower.” He lifted the bottom of his white T-shirt to draw his earbud wires up through the neck. He was wearing gray sweats and trainers. Jamie could pull off sweats—he had one of those low angled V-cut stomachs. The sweats hung just below where the side indentations began. My mouth dropped open. I thought about slipping my finger in and tugging the waistband of his sweats down. I was practically drooling, even though I was totally pissed at him. I looked up to find him glaring at me, with a thick sheen of moisture near his sideburns.

“You’re sweating already, Jamie. Have you checked your blood sugar?”

“I don’t need you to keep reminding me,” he barked.

“You’ve been doing the same thing to me! How do you think I feel?”

He walked over to the entry table where his insulin pen was. He grabbed it and swiftly jabbed himself in the side without pinching his flesh. “There, happy now?”

“You shouldn’t do that without metering.”

“I’m fine! I’ve been living with this most of my life. What happened to you is different. It was a trauma; you were attacked.”

“I know what it was.”

“Then why can’t you understand why I’m worried?”

“Is this our first fight?”

He paused in front of the door and took a deep breath. In a low voice he said, “Please, Kate. Please wait until I get back to take a shower.”

“Only if you’ll join me.”

A tiny smile touched the corners of his mouth. “Only if I can shave your legs.”

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes.

That night I let Jamie shave my legs in the shower. It was intensely erotic, or at least he made it seem that way. Damn tease. He still wouldn’t go any further than kissing me in bed. He showed great restraint; I’ll give him that, but the caretaker act was getting old.

At my follow-up appointment, Dr. Coco gave me permission to resume normal activities. I made him write it down so that I could wave it in Jamie’s face every time he tried to do something for me or every time he tried to prevent me from doing something normal. Every day since I was home, Jamie asked me if I wanted to try and ride the subway. The answer was always no.

We spent one Saturday cuddled up on a bench, sipping hot cocoa at Millennium Park.

“Christmas is in four days. Can you believe it?”

“No, it’s so soon. Are you going to go back to Napa for the holidays?”

His jaw clenched. “Why would I do that?”

“Well, I don’t know, you have Susan and Guillermo there.”

“They have families of their own.”

“Don’t you have things to take care of at the winery? And what about your organization in Africa?”

“The winery and organization run themselves. I do a lot when I’m there, but it runs smoothly when I’m not. My first priority is you. So what are we doing for Christmas? Should we get a tree and decorate?”

“That would be fun. I haven’t done that since I lived with Rose.”

He squeezed my hand. “What do you want for Christmas?”

“I want you. I want to make love. I don’t want you thinking about my head injury while we’re kissing. Do you think you can manage that?”

Smiling, he reached over and fluffed the back of my hair. “I’ll see what I can do, even though you still have this silly hair to remind me.”

I punched him in the arm. “Jerk.”

The next day, Jamie let me go shopping with Beth. He made me go through a checklist before I left, asking me a hundred questions to make sure I was up for a long day away from home.

“You’re not gonna spy on me while I’m shopping, are you?”

“I might. If you feel the slightest bit dizzy or nauseous, call me.” Jamie had started to use a cell phone again, but he never texted on it. I knew why. “What’s the plan for tonight when you get home?”

“I want to write a little, but my computer has a glitch. It keeps crashing, and I’m worried I’ll lose work. I have another older laptop in the closet. I might try and get that one working.”

“Okay, and what about dinner? Do you want to stay in or go out?”

“Let’s stay in.” I walked up to him and slipped my hand down the front of his sweats. I grabbed him and squeezed. He gasped. “Maybe we can go past first base?”

“I think I can arrange that,” he said.

The doorbell rang. Jamie quickly darted off to my bedroom. I swung the door open to a smiling Beth.

“Let’s shop till we drop.”

“You’re being sarcastic?”

“Yeah, I hate shopping. Jamie practically begged on his knees for me to go with you.”

“You mean he asked you?” She shook her head up and down dramatically. “Jamie, you’re in trouble!” I shouted.

“Have fun, ladies!” he yelled back. I grabbed my new purse off the table.

“I need to go by the bank first; I haven’t gotten my cards back. Do you mind?”

Before Beth could answer, Jamie shouted again from the other room, “I put a credit card in your purse.”

“Hold on one sec,” I said to Beth.

I stalked off to my bathroom and found Jamie standing completely naked in front of my sink, brushing his teeth.

I marched up to him. “You!” He spit toothpaste into the sink and turned toward me, exposing himself. He grinned arrogantly.

“Yes, dear, what is it? Have I upset you?”

“I have my own money . . . and you have toothpaste on your lip.”

He grabbed both my wrists, held my arms down, and bent so that we were face-to-face. “Can you get it for me?” I squirmed and tried to break my arms away, but he held them firmly.

I leaned in and sucked all the toothpaste off his lip, then I bit him. He pulled away and released my hands. “Ouch, feisty little thing.”

“That’s what you get. Hey, seriously though, I don’t want to buy gifts for you with your money.”

“It’s our money. You’re gonna marry me, right?” He smirked.

“Jamie, I said I thought we needed some time to get to know each other.”

“Okay, let’s get to know each other tonight.” He pressed his body to mine. I felt him hard against me. I got lost in his kiss and then I heard Beth whistling “(Sittin’ on) The Dock of the Bay” in the other room.

“I have to go.”

“I’ll miss you, beautiful,” he said near my ear, his voice so smooth and masculine it sent shivers down my spine.

I spent the whole day shopping with Beth. After hours of debate, I finally decided to buy myself lingerie to wear for Jamie. I figured it was the best I could do for a billionaire who had everything he wanted. I got back to the apartment in the afternoon and went straight into my bedroom for a nap. Jamie made sure to strip me down and tuck me in first.

I woke about an hour later, threw on one of his T-shirts, and headed for the kitchen for a glass of water. He was sitting at my square table, shirtless, but he had his black baseball cap on backward. There were computer parts and tools all over the table and floor. He was typing frantically on my laptop. There was something childlike about the way he sat poised and eager as he typed. Jamie was in such a deep concentration that he didn’t even notice that I had walked into the room. For a few seconds I stood there and took in a sight I never thought I’d see: Jamie sitting at a computer. He avoided technology as much as possible, and although I knew he had it in him, I didn’t know if I would ever witness it, and truthfully I couldn’t picture it. He was a far cry from the pale, skinny computer geek he once was. Sitting on the very front edge of the chair, he had his legs spread wide and he was tapping his right bare heel on the ground. The backward baseball hat seemed like a teenage boy’s thinking cap. I looked around and noticed in the corner of the living room a small Christmas tree with one string of blinking colorful lights—nothing extravagant, just a little festive touch. I thought of Jamie putting the tree up by himself. He was a lot like me, used to doing things on his own.

When I cleared my throat, he practically jumped out of his seat. “Sorry I startled you.”

“It’s fine,” he said as he stood up and walked toward me.

“What are you doing with all that stuff?”

“Don’t worry, I backed up your work.”

“I’m not worried, I’m just wondering what you’re doing.”

He clapped his hands together once and smiled from ear to ear. “Well, I got kind of excited. I fixed both laptops to run your writing program, but I also wrote some code for a new program that will automatically back up whatever you have written to an online server. That way you won’t have to rely on the hardware as much. Don’t worry, it’s a totally secure server; I have a knack for that sort of thing.”

“You wrote code?” I said the last word like I was a kindergartener sounding it out.

He tapped his index finger to his temple. “It’s like riding a bike.”

“I hardly think so, and I thought you didn’t like doing that kind of stuff anymore.”

“I wanted to do this for you.” He pulled me to his chest. “I won’t lie, I kind of enjoyed it.”

“Well, thank you.” I leaned up on my toes to kiss him. “I never thought writing code could be so sexy.”

“Before I get distracted by you, you got a phone call while you were out. A man named Paul Sullivan. He was asking if you knew the whereabouts of Ann Corbin.”

When I heard her name, I gasped, my hand flying up to my heart. I was stunned into silence.

“That’s your mother, I assume?”

“Yes,” I said, struggling to breathe.

“Come here, baby.” He tightened his grip on me. “What is it?”

“I just haven’t heard her name spoken in so long. Did he leave a number?”

“He left his number. Do you want me to call him for you?”

“No, I want to talk to him. Most people who knew my mother were at her funeral.” I glanced at the clock. It was seven p.m. “I’ll call him tomorrow.”

After I collected myself, I begged Jamie to let me make dinner. He agreed to be my ass-grabbing sous chef while I prepared homemade lasagna. He grated the cheese and continually accosted me until I finally kicked him out. He went back to the table and finished what he had been doing with my computer. Every once in a while I’d catch him stealing glances at me. He’d smile serenely like he was imagining the rest of his life. Jamie was completely happy and content in my dinky, eight-hundred-square-foot apartment. His only complaint was that it wasn’t energy-efficient. Within the short time he had been there, he’d changed all of the lightbulbs and faucets and was working on a way to install solar panels on the roof.

We sat on the living room floor and ate our dinner on the coffee table and then moved to the couch, where we fell asleep while watching the entire second season of Breaking Bad on Netflix. I woke up several hours later. Jamie was still upright, but his head was resting on the back of the couch. He was sound asleep. My head was in his lap with his hands tangled in my hair. I didn’t want to move but I knew he would be uncomfortable like that all night. I sat up slowly, leaned in, and trailed light kisses up his neck. He stirred.

“Hi, baby,” I whispered. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Mmm. Let’s stay here for a bit,” he said as he pulled me to straddle him.

He lifted my shirt over my head, and with complete ease unclasped my bra and tossed it aside. His mouth was at my breast in an instant. He kissed me gently and took care to hold me close to him, with one hand bracing the back of my neck. I moaned and let my head fall back, giving myself to him as his mouth moved achingly slowly up my body. He kissed and sucked and tugged at my earlobe and then sat back and took a deep breath. I unbuckled his jeans and lifted myself up enough for him to shimmy out of them. I could tell he was being cautious. I reached for the waistband of my black lace panties but he stopped my hands.

“Oh, come on!”

He laughed and shook his head. “No. These are nice. I just think we should leave them on,” he said as his fingers stroked me through the fabric. “Mmm, warm.”

“I’m wet! Now fucking kiss me.” I was practically writhing on top of him when his lips crushed against mine again. Our mouths were glued together, tongues twisting and caressing. His hands continued roaming, but I could feel him harder and harder against me as I moved. He finally pushed the fabric aside and slid his fingers in. I pressed myself deeper against his hand.

“Don’t stop, Jamie. I want you, please.”

“You are so sexy.” He removed his hand, and without caution, entered me, slamming my hips down until I was filled completely with him.

I cried out, arching my back, letting the feeling of him inside of me take over. It had been a while, and the lace fabric between us, although pushed aside, created the perfect amount of friction. We moved seamlessly together. He countered each one of my motions with perfect ease and resistance. I moved harder and faster on top of him. The whole time we were kissing and watching each other until we neared the end. He lifted his head up and closed his eyes and I did the same just as I felt the pulsing ache, then the electricity between my ears and down my spine.

“Katy . . . god Katy, I love you.”

Goddammit, if that didn’t send me completely over the edge, Jamie brought it all home when he leaned forward and kissed each breast with complete control and determination. The aftershocks were still blasting through me as he tightened his hold and nuzzled into my chest. I wrapped my arms around his head and neck and held him to my body as tightly as I could.

We stayed that way for what felt like days. I imagined the time-lapse version of those moments we sat embracing each other on the couch after we made love, still connected and still overrun with heat. The sun would rush up and blast us through the blinds and then sink down again, casting strange shadows on the walls, but we would be the same, tangled in each other. In the darkness, our connected bodies would burn bright enough to fill the room with a warm glow.

He kissed my mouth and then stood and carried me to the bedroom. We spent an hour lying in bed and talking.

“So you believe in God?” I asked.

“I believe something is out there.”

“Like what, aliens?”

“Yes, aliens. That’s exactly what I was thinking,” he said sarcastically. I was lying on my side in the crook of his arm. He was sweeping his hand up and down against the skin on my back. “What do you think, silly girl?”

“I hope there is something more for the sake of everyone I’ve loved and lost.”

“I feel the same way. What do you think about family?”

“I wish I had one.”

“Me, too. Let’s make one.” It suddenly hit me what Jamie was asking.

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Screwing up my kids. I don’t even know what kind of person my father was.”

“Well, I know exactly what kind of people my biological parents are, and I have no concerns that their kind of slime has been passed on to me.”

I cupped his face and kissed him. “I don’t either, Jamie.”

“I believe that even though we’ve lost so many of our loved ones, we still have family around. They may not be blood related, but the people I considered my real parents were not blood related, either, and I don’t see them as anything less than family to me. I have Susan and Guillermo and Chelsea, and you have Jerry and Beth and Dylan, and we fucking have each other, Kate.” I nodded hesitantly. “Are you scared to do this with me?”

I shrugged. He grabbed my face and looked me right in the eyes. “How close am I to losing you?”

“What would it take for you to want to lose me, for you to want to leave?”

“It would take a fucking lot to drag me away from you. Don’t you see that?”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m broken or damaged.”

“I see this kind of splendor and innocent childlike wonder when I watch you. You’re always so curious about the world but terrified to be a part of it. You’re not broken just like I’m not cursed. I know that now.”

“I love you. Isn’t that enough?”

He scowled like it pained him to hear my words. “For now,” he murmured and then shut his eyes and turned away from me.

The next morning was Christmas Eve. After three cups of coffee, I was a jittering fool, so it might have been a bad decision to call Paul Sullivan back, but I did.

“Hello.”

“Thi—thi—this is Kate Corbin returning your call.” I couldn’t help but feel nervous. This guy knew my mother, but I didn’t know him.

“Hello, Kate. I was trying to find the whereabouts of Ann Corbin. I was going down a list of Corbins in the city, calling each one, and landed on you.”

“Ann was my mother,” I said quickly. “She died in 1994.”

“Oh.” He sounded stunned. “I’m so sorry.”

“Did you know my mother?”

“Briefly. In the Eighties.”

“How brief?”

“We dated right up until she met Samuel.” Who the fuck was Samuel? Was he my dad? Oh god. “Kate, are you there?”

“Can I meet you? I mean, can we meet for coffee or something? I don’t know who Samuel is. My mother never spoke of him.” Jamie was watching me from the kitchen with concern. He stood, eyes wide, with the coffeepot suspended in the air. I held my hand over my heart in some futile attempt to physically slow the rapid beats down.

“Yes, we can meet. Are you free this afternoon?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, how about the Starbucks on State at three o’clock?”

“Perfect, see you then.” When I hung up, Jamie was at my side in a second.

“What did he say?”

“He just said he knew my mom and that they dated until she met Samuel. I never heard that name from Rose or my mom.”

He wrapped his arms around me and brought me to his chest. “Maybe this will be good for you. Maybe you’ll get to know more about your mother.”

“I asked my mom about my father once. It upset her so much she could barely speak. I figured he was a deadbeat or something, but maybe Paul will be able to fill in some of the blanks. Rose always said if my mom wanted me to know, she would have told me. That makes me think my father, whoever he is, is a very bad person.”

“You don’t know that, and you don’t know what your mother’s reasons were.”

“You’re right, but I wonder if I’m going against her by digging into this. I guess she’s gone, and it doesn’t matter now. But still . . .” I leaned up on my tippy-toes and pecked his lips. “I’m going to do some laundry. Do you want to get lunch before we meet Paul?”

“I can go with you?”

“Of course.” I slid my hand down the back of his flannel pj’s and squeezed his butt. “Wanna do it in the shower to take my mind off of things?”

He scooped me up and carried me to the bathroom before stripping my clothes off in record time. He turned the shower on, took a step back, and scanned me from head to toe. I pulled his pants down as I knelt in front of him. He shivered and then clutched the back of my head.

“Baby, you don’t have to do that,” he said and then moaned. After he was thoroughly turned on, he lifted me up and kissed me while he backed me into the shower. “Turn around, sexy,” he said. When I turned my back to him, he instantly grabbed my hands and pressed them onto the tiles above my head. He leaned in and whispered, “I love you,” into my ear. I parted my legs and gasped when he pushed into me forcefully.

“You okay?”

“God, yes, just go.” He slid his hands down my arms, reached around with one hand, and began circling the sensitive skin above where we were connected. He gripped my neck hard with his other hand and continued his strong thrusts until we were both breathing loudly and moaning. I threw my head back, and his mouth instantly went to my neck and sucked and kissed and tugged. Then he gently bit my earlobe, and I fell apart, shouting, “I love you, too!”

After a lengthy tryst in the shower, I joked with Jamie about how much water his environmentally conscious ass wasted while he worked me over. He laughed and then tried to lick the water droplets off my body.

“See, the water isn’t totally wasted.”

I dressed quickly while Jamie spread out on my bed in just a towel.

“I’m gonna get used to having you in my bed all the time.”

“So.”

I just looked back and shook my head at him. After collecting my laundry and some of Jamie’s, I headed for the door.

“I can do that,” he said. He had dropped his towel and was standing naked by my dresser, about to give himself a shot. He pinched the skin and jabbed the needle in.

“I’ve got it. You’ve been doing my laundry for weeks. I can do it now.”

“It’s Christmas Eve. You shouldn’t be doing laundry on Christmas Eve.”

“It’s just one load. I’ll throw it in and be back in a sec.”

The washers in the basement laundry room were full. Irritated, I turned on my heel and ran right into Dylan coming toward me.

“Hey, chica.”

“Hi.” I set my basket down and gave him a hug.

He braced my shoulders, pulled away, and looked me up and down. “You’re glowin’, lady. Did you have a good morning?”

My irritation vanished. “Sounds like you’re getting familiar with this type of look?”

“Well, yes, I won’t lie. Ashley has been glowing nonstop for the last couple of weeks.”

“Are you careful with her?”

“Yes, we are.”

I smiled. “Good boy. What are your plans with her?”

“She really wants to go to Berkeley next year, so I’m gonna try and get into the music program at the University of San Francisco.”

“That’s wonderful, Dylan.”

“And I’ll be close to you guys.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you were going to Napa?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Kate, you told me yourself.”

“I did? When?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and looked up to the ceiling curiously. “Do you not remember anything before you were attacked?”

“I remember stuff, I just don’t remember that day very well.”

“Jamie sent you a letter asking you to marry him.”

“I knew that.”

“Well, don’t you remember what you told me?”

Searching my mind, I shook my head slowly. “No, I don’t remember. What do you remember?”

“I remember your exact fucking words.”

“What, tell me?” I poked him in the chest with my index finger.

“You said you were gonna quit the Crier, go out to Napa, finish your book, and say absolutely one hundred percent yes to Jamie. I’ll never forget the way you looked that day, all bright-eyed and glowing, kind of like you are now.”

“Holy shit, I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Yep.”

But did I still want that?

• • •

Jamie hailed a cab at the front of my building, which took us to a Vietnamese restaurant on State Street. It was a perfect day for pho. It was in the low thirties but not snowing—just windy and very cold—so the warm soup in a super intimate setting was nice. I didn’t want to talk about what I would ask Paul. I just wanted to have a nice lunch and enjoy my time with Jamie.

I stared at him from across the table. He wore a black T-shirt and black jacket with dark jeans and combat boots. His hair, although much shorter, still revealed streaks of blond. It was mussed in a sexy way on top. For some reason, when he was completely clean-shaven, it made his eyes look greener and the dimple on his left cheek deeper. His lips were always pale pink and healthy looking. I watched him slurp up the noodles in his soup like a little boy. Jamie was, by far, the most unpretentious billionaire in the world. He lived for the moment. He loved his life and just wanted to share it . . . with me.

“Jamie?” I said into my soup.

I felt him look up. “Yes, baby?”

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“I haven’t said this, but I’m truly sorry about the article and jumping to conclusions. I’ve been running away from making connections with people most of my life, but I’m finished with that. I want to go back to Napa with you. I want to try it.”

He reached over the table and took my hands in his. “I would love that.”

We walked several blocks in the freezing cold. I stayed tucked against Jamie’s side until we reached Starbucks. It hit me as soon as I walked in that I didn’t know what Paul looked like or how I would find him, but I didn’t have to. He found me almost immediately.

“Kate?”

I turned to see a handsome man, probably in his late forties, much younger than I imagined. He had salt-and-pepper hair, brown eyes, and a thin, fit build. There was something very familiar about him. He was dressed nicely in a sweater and pants, the perfect picture of a distinguished gentleman.

“Paul.” I stuck my hand out but he hugged me instead.

“I could have spotted you a million miles away. You’re as striking and beautiful as your mother was.”

“Thank you,” I said, taken aback.

“I’m Jamie, Kate’s fiancé.” Jamie stuck out his hand and Paul shook it.

“Nice to meet you. Shall we have a seat?” Paul gestured to a table in the corner.

“I’ll get us coffees,” Jamie said.

I sat across from Paul and scanned his features. “So you dated my mother?”

“Yes, and I know what you’re thinking.”

“Oh?”

“I was much younger than her. In my twenties. She was close to forty.”

“Actually, I was thinking that you look very familiar to me.”

“Well, I’m a writer. Maybe you’ve read one of my novels?”

“Yes, that’s it!” It hit me instantly. The man I was sitting across from was the award-winning, bestselling author Paul Sullivan. “What an honor to meet you. I’m a writer as well. I write for the Crier.”

“Oh yes, I’m familiar with that paper. That’s wonderful, but honestly, I’m not surprised. Your mother was a huge fan of the written word.”

“What happened between you and my mother?”

He leaned back in his chair and smiled at the memory. “She was a teller at my bank. She was so uniquely beautiful. I would find reasons to go in and see her. She agreed to have lunch with me one day and we started dating from there.” He paused and his lips flattened. Looking down at the table in a daze, he said, “I was in love with her.” The age difference didn’t shock me because my mother always seemed young at heart. What surprised me more was that I’d never heard of this man who had been so madly in love with her.

“So what happened?”

“She was resistant to starting a serious relationship with someone so much younger. She said she couldn’t have kids, but apparently she could because she did. With Samuel, I assume?”

“I have no idea who Samuel is.”

He squinted and shook his head. “Well, that’s why she ended our relationship. She met Samuel. He was her age. She said he was a better match for her. They were engaged within weeks of meeting, and she told me she couldn’t see me anymore. The last day I saw her, she showed me her ring.” Jamie sat down at that point and took my hand in his. Paul looked a little choked up. “She cried and apologized over and over again. I left her there, crying on a lakefront trail. That was the last time I saw her, but I never stopped thinking about her. I don’t think I ever will.”

“Wow,” I said as tears ran down my cheeks.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. This must be very hard for you to hear.”

“I want to know. I need to know as much as I can. I don’t know who my father is. She never told me.” My voice was shaky. Jamie remained silent.

“Samuel Morrison. I would start there.”

“What about you? Do you have a family?”

The mood seemed to lighten. Paul chuckled. “Yes, I met my wife shortly after I dated your mother. We have five children, two grandchildren, and another one on the way. I have a very big family that I love, but like I said, I never stopped thinking about Ann, and I was curious. That’s why I called.”

I couldn’t believe my mother was a heartbreaker. Why would she ever dump this guy?

We all stood up at the same time. “Thank you for meeting me, Paul. I feel like I have a place to start searching.”