Chapter Eighteen
Jo opened the bar the next morning and greeted her first two patrons of the day with something close to dread.
“Officers,” she said, holding the door she’d just unlocked open for them. “Here for lunch?”
They both shook their heads, though Nelson gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry, ma’am.”
“Jo. And it’s all right.” She walked back behind the bar and set two coasters down in front of them. “Something to drink while we chat?”
Nelson ordered a water, White a soda. She poured both, got herself another water, and leaned in. None of her servers would barge in on the obviously private conversation. But still, she’d rather keep things as quiet as possible. “Do you have more questions for me?”
“First off, do you have the receipt from the other night?” White took a sip of his soda. “And any names you could think of that would serve as witnesses in the restaurant that night?”
“I do. Just a second.” She headed to her tiny office and came back with a folder containing the few scraps. “It’s a copy of the receipt. Is that a problem? I have the original but I’d like to keep it for my normal records.”
“No, though I wouldn’t toss out the original just yet.” White took the folder and opened it, glancing down the list. “Thanks for this. Saves us a little legwork and helps to close things faster.”
“Best all around,” Jo said, agreeing with that. “Can I do anything else for you?”
“Well . . .” White looked around, then leaned in a little farther. “Just so you know, there’s been a petition to the city council to shut you down.”
“What?” she shrieked, then clamped a hand over her mouth. She saw her servers staring at her from the back wall, but she waved off their curious glances. “Sorry,” she tried again, quietly. “Why in the world would—”
“Jeffrey Junior’s mom.” White shrugged, as if it wasn’t any big deal. “She’s sticking by his story that you’re an alcohol pusher. Took advantage of the kid, led him astray, it’s not his fault, yadda-yadda.”
“I’m assuming she thinks if she gets you shut down, or even just tosses suspicion at you, it makes her son’s story look more legit.” Nelson gave her a sad smile. “She’s got some pull, I hate to say. Unfortunately, that’s not police business. What we do doesn’t have too much to do with licenses and the like. I don’t know how easily she could have you actually shut down for any period of time, but the odds are good she will at least give you a headache.”
“I’ve got aspirin,” she murmured, and they both chuckled. She stared off into the distance for a moment. “So what, I have to just go plead my case to the city council? Tell them my side of the story and let them know I’m not an irresponsible businessowner?”
“Well . . .” White said.
Jo’s stomach plummeted.
“She’s also mentioning something about you running a bordello in the bar, or just above the bar, or something like that. That men are seen coming and going often.”
Jesus. A bordello. What was this, 1880? “I don’t even know how to respond to that.”
Nelson looked completely uncomfortable with the whole thing. “We are supposed to give a quick glance around today, with your permission. We don’t have a warrant, but it was asked that we try.”
Jo shrugged. “You can look wherever you want.” She dug in her pockets and held out her key ring by one key. “My apartment is upstairs. Lock up behind you when you’re done.”
The officers looked at each other, as if debating the wisdom of taking her at face value. Then Nelson took the keys with an outstretched palm. “We won’t be long.”
“I’m sure you won’t.” The implication of because I have nothing to hide wasn’t lost on either of them, she noted, as they nodded.
The moment the door closed behind them, she turned on her heel and walked through the kitchen, ignoring Stu’s questioning look, and straight into the back alley. She doubted anyone would follow her.
And there, in the quiet morning, she bit her lip to fight back the tears.
She’d been praying this was her fresh start. She’d been here a year, damn it. And suddenly, because one stupid kid had done something dumb, and one community leader decided she didn’t want her precious boy to face the consequences, the city was ready to toss her out on her ass.
She pinched her arm to focus on something other than the tears. Focus on the anger. Focus on her resentment at being treated like a second-class citizen because she was new. Not being considered trustworthy, despite her spotless records and fair business management.
She’d show them. Maybe someone else would take this as a sign to skip town and start over somewhere else. She wasn’t going to. Hell, no. She’d been drawn to this place, this bar, before she even knew what the town’s name was. And she wasn’t going to give up on it without a fight. This was her chance to grow some roots, and she was doing it.
Jeff—J. J.—freaking Effingham be damned.
Trace walked into the bar, hands in his pockets. He had a real purpose for being there, other than seeing Jo. He was grabbing lunch to take back to the ranch, giving Emma a break and thanking her for babysitting the night before. But still, he could have chosen the diner, or one of the few fast food joints in town. Jo was the main draw, and he had no shame in admitting it.
“Hey, cutie.” Amanda walked up and grabbed his arm, pulling him around the bar and behind it.
“Should I be back here?” he said, looking around.
“You should because I say you should.” She pushed open the swinging doors to the kitchen, firm grip still on his arm. “Hey, Stu. Bye, Stu.”
The massive man at the cooktop didn’t even turn to look at them as they passed behind. Either the man was really intense about his work, or he just wasn’t easily fazed.
“She’s out there, and she’s had a really shitty morning. So go do something to change it.” Amanda halted at a door that clearly led outside.
“What happened?”
“Cops were back. They dropped off her keys with me and took off, so I have no clue what’s going on now. But you need to go out there and fix it. Whatever it is, fix it.” With that, she planted both hands on his back and shoved until he was out the door and into the alley.
Jo’s head snapped up from her position leaning against the opposite brick wall. “What are you doing out here?”
He looked behind him, but Amanda’s face was already gone from the small window on the door. “Your head server is really pushy.”
Jo smiled a little. “Yeah, she is.” She pushed off the wall and walked toward him. “Sorry I ran out last night.”
“Too much, right?” He rubbed her upper arms with his hands, pulling her into his chest for a hug. “I hadn’t intended . . . but then he needed me and I couldn’t—”
“It wasn’t that. I mean, I get why you went up to him. I’m not upset by that. It was the right thing to do. I just shouldn’t have gone in there. I wasn’t . . . ready for it.”
“Ready for it. You need to psych yourself up for meeting a kid?” He dropped his head until his cheek rested on the top of her hair.
“Yes, actually. I told you, kids and I don’t get along. I made Seth cry.”
“Honey,” he said with a chuckle, “he was already in a horrible mood. I made him cry ten minutes later by stepping on his stuffed dragon. He’s teething. Anything and everything ticks him off right now. It’s nothing personal. Five seconds before he adored you.”
“But I scared him. I don’t know what to do with kids. I’ve never really wanted them. You know?” She pulled away so their chests were apart but their legs were still tangled together. “I feel like girls hit this wall in their twenties where they suddenly know they want kids, and it’s time to find the right guy to make them with. They pass by the baby section of Target and they get all gooey over the shoes or they see a commercial for formula and they tear up and whine about how they want one. And I never did that.”
“That’s a good thing. Seth doesn’t need any more shoes.” Her lips twitched, and he knew he had her. “I don’t need someone to play mommy. I’m his father, and although I have help, I think I’ve been doing an okay job by myself. I’m not in this for a stepmom. I’m in it for you. How we fit together, both you and me, and then the three of us, that’ll come later. Or it won’t. But don’t let this one experience stop you trying, please?”
She took a deep breath and let it out, burrowing back into him. “Fine,” she muttered into his neck.
He dropped a kiss on the top of her head, next to her ponytail. “Thank you.”
She let out a laugh full of sarcasm. “I’d invite you up to have some lunch, but since I’m busy running a bordello upstairs, I don’t think I have room for another man.”
“A what? Run that by me again, please?”
She stepped back and wiped a hand down her face, clearing the lingering emotion from her eyes as she did. Now she was back to Bar Owner Jo, tough as nails and nothing penetrated the shield. She explained about the city council, the mother taking her son’s side, the hints and implications of some makeshift whorehouse upstairs above the bar. The idea that she wasn’t a responsible business owner and shouldn’t have a liquor license.
“That son of a bitch,” he muttered, wanting to put his fist through a wall. But since he was surrounded by brick, he wisely decided not to try. “That slimy, underhanded, lying sack of—”
“Yes, yes. All that and more.” Jo waved it away. “That’s not the point. The point is, I need to figure out what to do to make this as uncomplicated as possible. The charges are false, and I know I won’t lose my license over this. But it could get annoying very fast if I don’t just head this off at the pass. Lock down the rumors once and for all.”
It hurt her, he could see it. Despite the shield she’d put up, he could see the fact that she had to even bother defending herself stung. “I’m sorry, baby.”
She stepped back from his comforting hand and shook her head. “It happens. And I’ll make it go away. I just have to figure out how.”
Knowing snuggle time was over, he stuck his hands in his pockets to keep from instinctively reaching for her again. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. I know people . . .” Not many, not since he’d been gone almost a decade. But he knew who to ask to find out information. Get the names of more influential people.
“I’ll let you know.” She put on a smile, a little strained at the corners, but a smile nonetheless. “Did you come for lunch?”
He opened the door for her, and waited for her to walk in front of him. “I owe Emma a meal.”
“We’ll make it a good one.”
Jo flipped the TV off, then turned and found Trace dead asleep beside her. He’d given her his baby-free night again, and instead of jumping on each other like wild monkeys, they’d lounged in bed and watched a movie. Lightly, she traced the planes of his face. He’d been so exhausted when he showed up on her doorstep. Not that he’d said a word. But when she suggested a movie, he’d jumped at the chance to slide horizontal and do nothing but veg.
He’d lasted ten minutes before she’d felt the deep, even breathing beneath her ear that signaled he was out cold. The man was working too hard. The ranch required so much of his time, energy, emotions. His connection to the place was intense. And though she didn’t have personal experience with family, she’d watched her mother struggle to be a single parent . . . in between husbands, anyway. Even with the support of his family, she knew Trace took the brunt of the parenting himself. Which he should.
Not for the first time, Jo wondered where Seth’s mother was. Single moms were a dime a dozen. But single fathers . . . a little more uncommon. Had the mother walked out on them? Had she broken Trace’s heart when she left? Or maybe she’d left . . . permanently. An accident, or illness. Jo’s heart clenched a little for Seth, thinking he might never know his mother.
Either way, she knew it added to Trace’s overall appeal that he met the challenge of single fatherhood head on, with gusto, and even pleasure. That was the kicker. Nobody could say he regretted his son, or didn’t enjoy being with him. Those two were peas in a pod. True love.
Love.
She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Love was such a complicated, messy thing. Attachments and relationships were bad enough, but love? No. Love meant permanency of a completely different kind. A kind she absolutely wasn’t going to be talked into.
Trace straightened beside her, shifted, and then rolled over until his arm wrapped around her middle in an unconscious gesture of possession. She loved when he did that. As if his body knew they shouldn’t be apart.
Okay, so it wasn’t in keeping with her no strings attached motto. But every girl has a fantasy. And hers just happened to be . . . this.
Dangerous waters, girl. Jo had to tread carefully, or else she’d drown in a pool she’d never even intended to swim in.
Trace woke up to Jo’s soft body curled up in the protective shell he’d unconsciously created in his sleep. He’d been so dead on his feet he hadn’t let her even think about sex. But after a quick catnap, he was feeling just a little more in the mood. One hand snuck in the tight wedge she’d created of her body and found her breast, thumbing the nipple.
She stretched and yawned, twisting in the hollow of his body to face him. His hand cupped the heavy weight of her breast, kneading the flesh filling his hand.
“Mmm.” She smiled with her eyes still closed. “Best way to wake up ever.”
He said nothing, but played her body with hands that knew every inch of her. But as his fingers walked their way down to her stomach, she switched it up and flipped on top of him.
“My turn. You were beat. Let me play.”
He might be a slow cowboy, but he wasn’t an idiot. He propped himself back against the headboard, arms behind his head, and watched as she explored his chest with her hands, her lips, teeth. Every nip brought a restrained shiver down his spine, until she reached his hips. The pressure there had him fighting a buck.
And then she took his balls in her hand, working them gently, using just enough pressure to have him groaning. And when she took the head of his erection in her mouth, tongue swirling over the sensitive skin, he had to bite back a whimper that would have made Milton proud.
“God, Jo . . . oh, man.” He couldn’t resist any longer. As her mouth slowly advanced down the length of him, his hands cupped the back of her head. He could have directed her, chosen his pace. She was responsive in bed, receptive to what he needed, but he let her choose.
There was power in submission, he’d learned.
She worked him with her tongue, adding in her hand to cover more of him, squeezing in rhythm.
“Jo . . . close . . .”
She hummed in answer, and he lost any hope of holding out longer. He gave a short warning, then pulsed his release into the warmth of her mouth.
She pulled him back down from the high, staying with him until he tugged gently at her hair. Then she crawled up his body like a cat and collapsed beside him, one leg over his thigh, arm over his chest, head on his shoulder.
“When I can move again, your turn. ’Kay?” he asked, voice slurred. He couldn’t gather the energy to enunciate.
“Deal.” Jo shifted and smoothed a hand down Trace’s chest. “I suppose while you’re sleepy and satisfied, now would be a good time to get some intel on Seth’s mother.”
Trace stiffened, then forced himself to relax. “What intel?”
She laughed and rolled tighter into him. “No, I’m kidding. She seems to be a mystery to everyone. I assume your family knows about her but—”
“They don’t.”
“No?” The surprise in her voice shook off the last of the sexual cobwebs.
Be more open. Be honest. Last time he’d withheld info, he’d nearly lost her. Now was the time to give the story and let the chips fall. “I was too embarrassed to tell them, when I first got home. Now it’s sort of a matter of pride to keep Peyton guessing.”
“Sibling stuff,” Jo scoffed.
“Partly. But mostly, I’m still embarrassed.”
“You don’t have to go into it. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does, and it doesn’t. Let’s try the honesty route this time.” He grasped her hand over his chest and pressed it down. There was no way she could miss how his heart hammered in his chest, but he wasn’t about to let go. “Seth’s mom, Rose—”
“Rose,” she said quietly.
“Yeah. Rose. She was married.”
“And you were, what, her rebound? A divorce celebration?”
“Maybe I would have been, if she’d been divorced. She’s still married now. Or at least, I assume she is.”
Jo remained silent. He wanted so badly to tilt his head down and see what her face said, but he couldn’t. He might not finish otherwise. So he plowed on, unknowing. Going on faith.
“I met her on the road. Liked her. She’s a likable woman, not just a hot piece. Never thought it’d be anything permanent. Permanent wasn’t really a word for me while I was moving from town to town, following the biggest prize money, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” The words were said simply, with no hint of her feelings.
“But I liked her. And so we spent time together. And then I found out she was married.”
He knew where her mind was going. That Rose had already been pregnant when he found out.
“But I kept seeing her. I liked her. She wasn’t happy with her marriage. He was an ass, and she’d left him and just hadn’t gotten around to filing papers, whatever. Each day brought a new justification. All of them were bullshit. The minute I knew, I should have stopped. But we didn’t.”
Lonely. He’d been so lonely, so homesick, and she’d become a friendly face for him on the road. And he’d been weak enough to ignore everything he knew was right.
He breathed deep, and took a chance by lacing his fingers with hers. She allowed it.
“She ended it. I hate having to say that, too, since you’d think I’d have been man enough to walk away from the situation. But I wasn’t. I let it ride until she said she and her husband were going to reconcile. It wasn’t a hardship to let her go. I need you to know that. It wasn’t like I loved her or anything.”
Another black mark on his soul, but Jo said nothing.
“And then she found me a month later, saying she was pregnant and it was absolutely mine. Her husband was pissed, but maybe he wasn’t quite the ass she’d led me to believe. He was ready to put the whole thing behind him if she was willing to give up the baby. Either adoption or abortion.”
Jo’s hand clenched a little around his, but she stayed quiet so he could finish.
“If I didn’t want the baby, she was just going to abort. I didn’t think twice before telling her no. But Jesus, after she left, I puked my guts out with nerves.” He could smile a little now, at the memory of his pure panic. “I all but told her I was ready to tackle single fatherhood . . . and I’d never even held a baby in my adult life. Cradling Baby Bea when I was like five didn’t count. I had no family nearby, no friends that were around for longer than a night or two before we went our separate ways again, and no home to call my own. Scared didn’t even cover it.”
“But you didn’t call and take it back. You could have, and you didn’t.”
Her understanding, and even encouragement, pushed him on. “No. I didn’t. And so, seven months later, I got the call to meet her at the hospital. I walked in, and there he was. Perfect.”
He swallowed a little to keep from tearing up. “The most perfect thing I’d ever seen. And I knew, even though I’d been making a mess out of life when I made him, he was perfect and mine.”
“You didn’t get to see him being born?” Jo rubbed her cheek over his shoulder. “That’s sad.”
“Given the circumstances, I felt lucky she even went through with the whole pregnancy. She wasn’t a monster. Rose, I mean. Neither was her husband, though she’d led me to believe it at first. Or maybe that’s just how I painted him to justify my own actions. And I wasn’t either. Just a handful of adults making bad choices, who were all fortunate enough to make the right ones so my son could have a chance.”
“Do you ever wonder if she’ll come back and try to get him? Get custody, or whatever?”
The idea had his blood pounding in an instinctive fight-or-flight response. But he breathed through that.
“She signed away her rights. I guess in this day and age, anyone can sue for rights again. You can sue someone because a candy bar made you fat. But instinct tells me she’s not interested in remembering the affair—and consequence—that nearly ruined her marriage. I haven’t heard from her since the day the final line was signed making me the sole parent. She’s not a monster,” he said again, reminding them both.
“Is that how you want it?” The question was cautious, though he wasn’t sure whether the hesitation came from the question itself, or her fear of the answer.
“For now. Much as people like to talk about how a parenting duo is best, I know what my son needs is me. He’s got a support dream team, a place to call his own, and he’s got me. That’s all he needs for the moment. I figure this parenting gig is sort of fluid. If something isn’t working, we move on to try a new approach.”
“Very scientific of you.” Her voice held a touch of humor. “But why all the mystery?”
“I never want someone to look at my son and think mistake . He is blameless and amazing and I know that’s what would happen if the story of his mother got out. So I just locked it all down.”
She rolled until she was on top of him, her breasts pushing into his chest. “And the fact that people gossip and wonder doesn’t bother you?”
“They can talk about me all they want,” he said. He didn’t care. They couldn’t hurt him. “Doesn’t matter. Seth is what matters. I can take it.”
Jo kissed him lightly. “You’re a good man, Trace.”
He eyed her. “So you don’t think less of me for it?”
“For what?” She seemed truly baffled.
“For having an affair with a married woman, knowing she was married.”
Jo glanced over his head for a minute and chewed on her lip. But he knew she was trying to figure out how to word her response, not how to spin a lie.
“I think you made a mistake, which ended up reaping an unexpected reward. You obviously learned from it, since you’re here beating yourself up about the whole thing. And in the end, when the chips were down, you had a choice, too.”
“There was no choice.” How could she think there was?
“There was,” she argued softly. “So many men would have seen the out. She was fine with an abortion. Easy enough, and the problem goes away. You get to move on to the next woman, she gets her husband back, and nobody has to think about it again. You could have. But you didn’t. You chose the hard route. The one that permanently tied you to another human being for the long haul. Not just eighteen years, but life.”
“He’s my son.” That’s all he could think. All he could say.
“Exactly.” She kissed him again. “You’re a good man. You made a mistake. Trust me, I’ve made a few myself. But you learned, and you can move on.”
“With a kid.”
“Yeah. With Seth.” She nuzzled into the nook of his neck. “You’re a cute pair.”
“Why, thank you.” He flipped her over onto her back and worked his way down her body to her breasts. “Now, I believe I had a turn coming to me.”