Her Foreign Affair (12 page)

Court stood behind her, and when she turned, their eyes met.

“What are the kids doing?” she asked him.

“I believe they’re thinking of hot-tubbing. Not a bad idea, actually. I could give you a foot rub.” The accompanying lifted brow added he could rub other things as well.

“Not until we speak to them.” She joined him on the top step and looked up. “I don’t want to do this, but I think we need to do it now. Don’t you?”

Court lifted a hand and used one finger to twirl a strand of her hair. “I think you’re right. This discussion is going to be painful.”

“True. Divide and conquer or sit them down together?”

“I don’t want to do it alone, but it might be easier.”

“I’m not sure there’s an easy way to do it at all.”

“I wish we could work out things between us first. Present them with a unified front.”

Randi shrugged, turning away from his gaze. She couldn’t deal with both situations at the same time. She wanted to be selfish and deal with the hurt and anger she’d held all these years. The aching loneliness that had struck her from time to time and had grown even stronger with Wyatt’s death. She and Court should have been together. Instead, they’d lived with people they didn’t love well enough to be married to and raised children they loved completely.

Court’s hands slipped into her hair, his big hands forming to the shape of her skull.

Worn down from fighting the attraction all day, following instinct, she leaned against him, forehead tilted to his chest, and soaked in the comfort he offered. The feel of his strong body, solid where she leaned into him, his scent, the pulse of his blood and breath; it all came back to her, filling her, completing her as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Ah, sweet,” he murmured against the top of her head. “I’ve missed you, dreamed of you, mourned the loss of this, the simplest of comforts, just holding you.”

“I’m so confused!” All those feelings and more welled up from deep inside, overwhelming her, making her heart pound and throat tighten. The need to lash out, to hit something, or in this case someone, swamped her, almost taking her to her knees. By nature, she didn’t resort to violence, but the feelings were too deep, held back too long, and so strong she shook with the effort to contain them.

Hands fisted, she clung to him as much as she wanted to escape. “I hate you, I need you, I can’t bear your touch, and yet, I feel as if I’ve been slowly dying without it. I never want to see you again, but I’ll kill you if you leave me. You’ve got me all torn up inside, and I don’t know what I want right now, or five minutes from now, much less tonight or tomorrow.”

Restless from the churning emotions, she tried to push away, but he held her tight and tilted her head to stare into her eyes.

“
I didn’t know
.” The whispered words were urgent, as if wrenched from his heart, the agony she felt mirrored in his eyes. “I swear to God, any god you want, any major or minor deity, faerie, or sprite you name. I swear on my father’s grave. I. Didn’t. Know.”

The truth in his eyes didn’t help the hurt in her heart. Possibly it facilitated her understanding a little, but it didn’t erase the years of secrecy and guilt. So much guilt. Guilt for not loving Wyatt as well as he’d loved her. Guilt for not coming clean with Birdie much sooner. Guilt for hating Court, his wife, and their child. So much to regret.

The time had come to let it all go. Her time for running away was over as of right now. She had to face her feelings for Court and tell Birdie of her heritage.

Tears welled up in her eyes, turning Court watery and wavy.

“Ah, love, don’t cry, please don’t cry. Anything but tears. Yell at me, beat me with those tiny fists, curse me to the ends of the earth, just, please, no tears. I can’t bear your tears.”

A late-blooming pot of gardenias sheltered on the steps lent a sweetness to the air as Court kissed the wet streaks from her cheeks. The tenderness with which he touched her, held her, did her in and the trickle became a waterfall.

“Ah, hell,” he muttered and touched his lips to hers.

The sizzle that had been on simmer all day, rekindled into a blazing conflagration. Her hands slid up his back to cling to his shoulders as he held her head and devoured her mouth, the sweetness balanced by the saltiness of her tears.

The day caught up with her then. Lack of sleep, hours on her feet in the kitchen, the emotions and shock of seeing Court again, the tension created by her father’s pestering, and the worry of unraveling Birdie’s life without all the facts in place… God, could there be more? It all coalesced there in Court’s embrace, and she dug her fingers into his flesh in a last attempt to hang on as what little sanity she had left slipped away, falling willing victim to his touch. Their breaths mingled, tongues tangled, legs entwined, and hands groped until they both pressed their hips toward each other. Nothing felt better than his kiss, his touch, his strong hands holding her so intimately.

The world faded away, wrapping them in the sweet scent of flowers. The troubles, worries, and aches all compressed down into one need. The need to fuse with this man. There was only one way to get closer, and she wanted it. Wanted it more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life. She needed to connect with his strength, needed the affirmation he offered.

“Mom?”

Mom didn’t belong here, just Randi, a woman, and Court, a man. Mom was a dream person who didn’t live in this moment. Didn’t exist or belong to this world of only two people.

A choked giggle preceded Birdie’s next, half-scandalized exclamation. “Mom? Mr. Robinson?”

“Bloody hell, Dad. In front of the neighbors?”

Drew’s voice broke through the fog, shattering the moment.

Like a hot potato, Randi released Court and stepped back, heart pounding and chest heaving in a far too clichéd manner. Court resisted a moment longer, then released his hold. Unable to look at him or the kids, she closed her eyes and took in deep breaths, hoping to clear her mind and get control of her thundering pulse.

A car door slammed from across the street, and her neighbor called out, “Hey Randi, there’re young kids here. Save the biology lessons for later!” Tuck’s laugh echoed between the homes in the failing light of day.

Face hot, she glanced his way and waved. Like Brad Tucker had room to talk. The man had four children! Each and every last one of them had varying shades of their mother’s red hair. It had been something of a not-so-funny neighborhood joke that maybe he had five since Birdie looked more like him than Wyatt. Of course everyone knew it wasn’t true, but they didn’t know the other side of the coin.

Someone’s car roared to life, and it took all she had to raise her chin and face the children.

Right. At twenty-one and twenty-two, the tall, beautiful people in front of her could no longer be called children. They were adults who deserved to know the truth about their lives. Birdie especially.

“Hey, Randi.”

Tuck’s voice coming from close behind made her jump what felt like a foot. He chuckled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Kelly made me bring this over.”

She turned, hand over her racing heart, to find a covered dish in his hands, but his eyes moved rapidly from Court to Birdie to Drew and back around again.

“Holy…” Tuck stopped and cleared his throat as he put on his lawyer face. The one which said no one was messing with his client and said client better bring him up to date right quick.

“Tuck, this is Court and Drew Robinson. Birdie brought them home for Thanksgiving…” she started to explain but at the look in his eyes, she faltered.

Blue eyes—so much like Birdie’s people who did and didn’t know better often teased them about the resemblance—drilled into her, asking questions and wanting answers right now. As her lawyer, neighbor, and friend, the look also reassured her he was on her side, ready to jump in and defend her if needed. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

“Court, Drew, this is our neighbor and friend, Brad Tucker. Also my lawyer.” There, that should explain Tuck’s seemingly odd question.

However, it didn’t throw Tuck off one bit. She could see his sharp eyes had already taken in the physical resemblance of Birdie to the two men behind her, and he quickly moved on to sizing up Court with slightly narrowed eyes.

“So the old jokes were half right?” he asked quietly.

More footsteps came up the walk. As if Kelly could resist being nosy. Randi’s heart beat faster, and she knew the end of her little secret approached like a flash flood.
Go away
. She silently tried to communicate the thought to the Tuckers. Of course, both ignored her.

“Oh. My. God.” Kelly stopped and stared from one blond to the next just as her husband had. “Tuck, she really wasn’t—”

Tuck threw an arm around his wife’s shoulder, his hand coming to rest over her mouth. “And this is my wife, Kelly, the big mouth.” He gave her a quelling glare before releasing her mouth. “This is why she isn’t the lawyer of the family,” he explained to the astonished crowd.

Randi glanced over her shoulder. Birdie and Drew both looked stunned. A glance in the other direction showed mild amusement and resignation on Court’s face.

Heart sinking, she turned back to her neighbors. “Thanks, Kelly, Tuck, I’ll catch up with you later.”

Kelly’s mouth gaped open and closed a few times before words emerged. “Oh Randi! I’m so, so, sorry…” Green eyes round as saucers had the grace to look horrified.

“I know, Kelly.” Randi patted her friend’s arm when all she wanted was for the earth to open up and swallow someone. Her or Kelly, she didn’t care. “We’ll talk, I promise.”

“If you need us…” Tuck still eyed Court warily, but he backed off, dragging Kelly with him, the dish in his hand forgotten.

“I know your number.” She gave them a half smile. Birdie began to make spluttering noises behind her. “Or I’ll light-signal.”

Since Wyatt’s death, Tuck had told her if she ever needed him and couldn’t get to a phone, she could always flash an SOS using a light switch or flashlight. She’d also learned enough Morse code there were times she’d done it to say goodnight and convey the message all was well. Although she probably wouldn’t need the signal tonight, she liked knowing they were there if needed. One couldn’t plan neighbors like this, but sometimes, they were handed over on a silver platter. A result of good Karma? Possibly. Then again, with Kelly’s well-intentioned, but big mouth, maybe not.

Well, if she had any good Karma, she needed it now. Taking a deep breath, she turned to find Birdie and Drew frozen, their mouths gaping open.

“We need to talk,” Randi said simply. “Let’s go inside.”

“I’ll say!” Birdie squeaked. “I want to know what Aunt Kelly meant!”

“Yeah, I want to know why no one ever told me I have a sister,” Drew said on a shaky chuckle. “I came damn close to damaging us both for life.”

“Sister!” Birdie’s eyes widened even more. “Omigod, omigod.” She turned stricken eyes to Randi, and pointed a shaking finger at Court. “You mean…?”

Randi nodded wearily, her heart breaking at the look on her daughter’s face.

“If he’s…then…” Birdie turned to Drew and took another step back into the house, running into the foyer table. “Then he’s…my brother?” The high-pitched screech made Randi wince at the shot of pain piercing her head.

“Let’s take this inside,” she said more firmly and stepped into the house, practically bulldozing Drew out of her way, leaving the men to follow, or not, at their choosing. She grasped Birdie’s arm and marched her into the family room, Birdie too stunned to protest or fight. Once there, Randi gently pushed her down onto the sofa and took the rocking chair for herself, drawing it up so they sat face to face.

“Birdie, baby.” Randi gulped and stared into her daughter’s beautiful blue eyes. How to say this? Spit it out? Come at it from an angle? Start at the beginning and work up to it? She picked up Birdie’s icy hand.

Aw Hell. There was no easy way, and when push came to shove, she believed in being forthright. “Birdie, I have to tell you… You need to know…” No brilliant words came to her. Randi drew in a deep breath, exactly as she’d do before diving into the pool. Birdie perched on the edge of the sofa, her face intent, her attention focused and confused. There was no way out but to go forward.

“As the Tuckers guessed, Wyatt wasn’t your biological father.”

“And you’re just telling me this now?”

Randi flinched as Birdie’s hand dropped away, and she sat with her mouth open wide enough to catch flies.

Drew settled on the far end of the sectional sofa, and Court stopped beside the rocking chair, his hand coming to rest on Randi’s shoulder. A show of support? Lord, she needed one.

“Court is your biological father, which makes Drew your half brother.” In a rush, Randi confirmed the words Birdie had choked out a few moments ago, and Court’s hand tightened on her shoulder. She caught a flinch and cough from Drew at the edge of her vision. Gaze locked on Birdie, Randi reached for Court’s hand, and his fingers enmeshed hers in his comforting grip.

Birdie’s mouth snapped shut and dropped open again, her face losing all color for a moment and then flushing a hot red before going white again. Randi let go of Court and reached for Birdie’s hand, but her daughter recoiled.

Birdie glanced from Drew to Court and back around again. “I don’t believe you! It can’t be…”

Heart breaking for the pain and confusion on her daughter’s face, Randi kept nodding, unable to think of a way to convince her daughter, hoping for a look of relief in Birdie’s eyes. Relief as in she hadn’t yet gotten to the cuddling stage with Drew, or—heaven forbid!—further.

“He’s…he”—she pointed one finger over Randi’s shoulder—“is my
father
?” The rising note in Birdie’s voice made it come out as a squeak. “
My
father? And this is the best way you could think of to tell me?”

Oh God, could this go any worse? “I’m sorry, so sorry!” Randi moaned and reached for Birdie again. At this point, Drew was Court’s worry, and she didn’t spare him a glance. “I wanted to find a better way. I never intended to dump it on you like this.”