Kimberly’s hands came up to Mitch’s chest, palms flat against him, and he half expected her to use them to push him away. Or hell, yell at him. To scream that he was crossing the line.
Instead she leaned her forehead against his as he dipped his head and she ran her index finger along the muscles in his chest, like she was drawing an outline that she could memorize for the next time they were separated from each other. She had to know as well as he did that this reunion wasn’t going to last long, couldn’t last long.
But this moment enveloped them both and neither seemed to have the will to fight it.
He brought his finger to her lips and traced each one. They were pink and full. Memories of how they tasted assaulted him.
Mitch didn’t debate his next actions, either. He dipped his head and pressed his lips against hers.
When her lips parted and she bit his bottom lip, the air around them charged. Her body hummed with electricity as he teased her with the tip of his tongue before thrusting it inside her mouth. He dropped his hand to the nape of her neck and wrapped lean fingers around it, leaving his thumb to rest at the base. She mewled pleasure and that was all the coaxing he needed to deepen the kiss.
Her hands came up around his neck, her fingers tunneled in his hair.
Need was a lightning strike, hitting with such force that Mitch forgot where he was for a second—on the run with a near stranger. That sobering thought was the equivalent of a bucket of ice water being poured over his head.
A little voice in the back of his mind reminded him that kissing his wife was the most natural thing in the world, next to holding their children.
And that’s pretty much where he knew he had to stop. Willpower was difficult to come by but he summoned up enough to pull back first.
Kimberly’s beautiful eyes glittered with need, and that didn’t help one bit with his self-control.
“This is a bad idea,” he managed to say under his breath. His hands didn’t seem to get the message because they were pulling her toward him until she was flush with his chest.
“You’re right about that,” she said, a little breathless. He could tell that she was trying to pluck up the courage to walk away.
It didn’t help that the tiny freckle above her upper lip twinkled at him. He wanted to take it in his mouth, to taste her again. There’d been too many sleepless nights in the last eleven months in which his arms had ached to hold his wife. If someone had asked him if a body could have muscle memory for a mate and act on its own accord in mourning, he would’ve said hell no. That was before Kimberly. Before the wife that he loved with everything inside him had come into his life and then died.
Died.
Another sobering word. Because this close it was a little too easy to forget that the only reason she came back into his life was to save him and their children. It had nothing to do with the love he believed they’d shared.
Damn if he wasn’t going soft in the brain.
Time to put the past behind and cowboy up.
“I need to check on the twins,” he said, attempting to put a little space—and reality!—between him and his wife.
“Can I help?” she asked.
“I’ve got this covered.” Shutting her down was as much for her protection as it was for his. Once this was over and she got her life back, he fully expected her to be in their children’s lives. Hell, he was even happy for the twins. They’d have a mother. Having grown up with a mother who loved her children was part of the reason he counted his childhood as lucky.
The twins having to grow up without a mother was one in a long list of reasons he missed his wife.
A thought struck. Kimberly might’ve been his wife but what had he really known about her? Precious little, he decided as he slipped inside the dark room with the babies.
It would be easy to let the woman step back into the role of mother. But mothering wasn’t like a winter coat that someone put on when it got cold outside. Being a parent was a full-time job. The best one in the world, granted, but it wasn’t for the weakhearted. He’d need to figure out what this new life would look like for all of them and maybe do a little investigating into her background before he trusted her alone with the kiddos.
He could work on finding a job in town for Kimberly if she wanted to stick around Jacobstown. Fort Worth was nearby. There was a lot of work there for anyone willing and able-bodied.
Mitch stepped lightly to the carriers with the twins inside. They slept so peacefully. He’d marveled at that eleven months ago. They didn’t seem to be aware of everything they’d lost when Kimberly had died.
Babies had no sense of reality. For them, he’d seen that as a good thing. But they also had no idea how much their lives were going to change now that their mother was back.
The words seemed strange in his head.
How many times had he wished for this? For his wife to come back to life?
Would he also have to tell the twins how she’d willingly disappeared from their lives?
The babies were still sleeping, so he stepped into the doorway.
“I need to get cell coverage in order to call home. Get some rest. We’ll leave when it’s time to put the twins down for a nap later,” he said to the woman he barely knew. His heart wanted to argue that she was still the same person, but that was a lie—everything about her was a deception.
She twisted her hands and he could tell that she was nervous. She also bit her bottom lip, which meant she was about to ask a question.
“I know that I don’t deserve it but is there any chance you’d allow me to feed one of the twins?” He could see that she was holding her breath, waiting for his answer. The way she cocked her head to the side also told him that she didn’t expect him to agree.
Here were the facts.
Like it or not, Kimberly was their mother.
Like it or not, Kimberly was back.
Like it or not, Kimberly was going to be in all of their lives.
The twins stirred in the room behind him. Rea belted out a cry. Time to get to work, changing and then feeding the babies.
Mitch turned on his heel.
“You can take Aaron. I’ll take Rea,” he said in a low growl.
KIMBERLY NEVER THOUGHT she’d have the chance to see her babies again, let alone hold one in her arms. Joyful tears sprang to her eyes as she held her son. He was big and strong, much more so than she’d expected him to be. Her arms ached to hold Rea, too, but she wouldn’t push her luck. Holding her son was already a gift beyond anything she’d imagined in the past eleven months.
For the first time in a long time, Kimberly felt like she was home again. She knew full well that it would be a mistake to get too comfortable. There was always something or someone a few steps behind, lurking, waiting to take away everything she cared about. Anger shot through her.
This should not be her life.
Self-pity was a bottomless pool she had no intention of diving into.
After tearing her gaze away from her son, she locked on to Mitch’s eyes from across the table. She could see the myriad of questions burning through his mind. They would have to wait a little while longer, because she had no plans to ruin this perfect moment of feeding her baby.
It was all the little things she’d missed in the last year, even the middle-of-the-night feedings and walking around, feeling half dead for most of the day. Giving her children their baths. The sweet smell of their soft, clean skin. The way they seemed to concentrate really hard to make their eyes focus enough to see her. Had they been memorizing her, too? Had they known she was temporary?
Kimberly had poured all of the love she could into those children for that first month of their existence, wishing that it could last a lifetime. She hadn’t even expected to still be alive, so holding her babies was a gift beyond measure.
Mitch’s words wound back through her thoughts. Were the men trying to kidnap her rather than kill her?
If so, they must either think she saw something, knew something. Wouldn’t they want to get rid of her in either case?
Unless...
It dawned on her. They thought she knew where something was. It’s the only reason she could think of that would make them want to keep her alive. They must need her.
But what are they looking for?
She drew a frustrating blank.
Trying too hard to recall something never worked, so she focused on the angelic face of her son instead.
Those gorgeous gray eyes, so much like his father’s, studied her. Did he realize that she was his mother? Did he care at this age? She’d missed so much of his life already.
Sadly, he wouldn’t know any different, since she’d disappeared so early in his life. Kimberly thought about her own biological family and the mother who’d walked out on her, the anger she’d always felt toward both of her parents.
Or at least used to feel.
Now that she was older and had more experience, life was becoming less black-and-white. Part of her felt sympathy for her parents. Granted, the situations were totally different, but losing children had to be the worst feeling for any parent. Even for ones like hers, who’d given them up so willingly.
Of course, life was also teaching her that there were always two sides to every story.
And an inkling of guilt said that she’d given up her children willingly, as well. She wanted to argue against the thought. But could she?
How different was she really?
Her thoughts drifted to her sister, Rose. What did she look like all grown-up? Where was she? Did she still have the lucky charm that Kimberly had fastened to a string and tucked inside her sister’s pocket before the pair had been separated for good. Rose had been so young that Kimberly wondered if she even remembered having an older sibling. Kimberly had fought to keep the two of them together. Wonder Sisters—they’d given themselves the name at ages six and eight. No matter how hard Kimberly tried, she couldn’t recall the details of her sister’s face clearly anymore.
Lily was dead. She was Kimberly now.
That part of her, like so much of her life, had disappeared.
The past didn’t have to determine her future, did it?
It was time to get her life back. Because after being with her babies and the man she—once? still?—loved, she was more determined than ever to put this whole situation with the creeps to rest. The only mother and father she’d known were gone. Her biological parents had never been in her life and never would be. Things would be different without her foster dad.
Could she find Rose someday?
The thought made her heart nearly burst. She was afraid to want it. But she had two beautiful children to reclaim. For the first time she allowed herself to consider the notion that coming back might’ve been something besides a disaster.
Kimberly marveled at her son in her arms while he finished the bottle.
“Bottle’s empty. I’ve got it from here.” Mitch set up a blanket with some toys in the middle of the floor before taking Aaron from her. “You should get some rest while you can.”
“I’ll be okay.” She bit back a yawn. Considering they were planning to drop the babies off later, she wanted to spend every minute she could with them.
Mitch stared at her for a long moment after he positioned their son on the blanket. He must’ve picked up on her stress.
“When this all settles down, you’ll get time to spend with them,” he said. She shouldn’t allow his deep timbre to affect her. It did anyway. Being here with their children had her heart wishing they could be something more. Like a real family.
“How do we do that?” she asked, feeling like a distant aunt when it came to knowing her own children’s schedule instead of the mother she should be. She should know the little things about her kids. She should be the one to put them to bed. She should be the one to say when it was time for them to eat.
“I don’t know.” He issued a sharp sigh. “But these two deserve a mother and we’ll figure it out. Right now we can’t focus on anything but finding the truth of what’s going on. But you have my word that we will.”
Kimberly didn’t want to push her luck, so she acknowledged his offering with a genuine smile. The look he returned, a brief moment of tenderness, nearly stole her breath. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, she disappeared into the other room. Sleep would be impossible. But she could rest. She could do that much for the tentative partnership Mitch had offered.
Dozens of scenarios ran through Kimberly’s mind as she stretched out on the bed. Was it even possible that she could build a life near Jacobstown and be with her children? Soon, they would have to be separated again. Mitch was probably setting up the handoff to his security team now. As much as her heart ached at the thought of being away from her babies, knowing she wasn’t alone in finding answers filled her with something that felt a lot like hope.
A renewed sense of purpose filled her, too.
That feeling carried her off to sleep.
When he popped into the room hours later and informed her the babies were awake, fed and ready to go, she freshened up and quietly gathered her things before following him out to the SUV. Mitch had a baby carrier in each hand, so she opened the door for him without speaking—without needing to—enjoying the feeling of cooperation. Could they build on the sentiment?
The first real spark of hope for a future lit inside her chest as she climbed into the passenger’s seat.
The twins made cooing noises in the back that warmed her heart.
“Where are we going?”
“To a truck stop off the highway to meet up with Isaac. He’s been with us for ten years and I’d trust him with my life.” Mitch navigated down the gravel path toward the road. “Tell me about Randy Bristol.”
“My foster father owned a small rental-truck-and-van company,” she informed him. “He rented mostly to businesses.”
“The possibilities from that really get my brain going,” he said.
“What could someone gain from using his trucks?” she asked.
“Don’t you mean what couldn’t they do?”
“My first thought is drugs,” she stated.
“That’s one possibility,” he admitted. “I read in the news recently that laundering money was becoming an even bigger problem in the US. It would be easy to move with rental trucks.”
“I don’t know about criminal activity, though.” She shrugged. “Wouldn’t that also leave a paper trail? I mean people have to give a copy of their driver’s license in order to rent one of my father’s vehicles. If the truck ended up in a bust, the person who rented it would be easy to track down.”
“The men following you could believe you have access to those files. When did your foster mother pass away?” he asked reverently. He could understand the pain of losing a mother, even though Kimberly had lived with Randy and Julie Bristol for only six years before graduating from high school. After that Kimberly had landed a full-time job and started community college. She’d moved into her own apartment near campus to be close to her favorite fosters and the only couple she considered to be family.
“The day before her birthday, three and a half years ago,” she said, hearing how low her voice had become.
“I’m sorry.” Mitch bowed his head so slightly that she almost missed it, and she could tell that he meant those words. He would know the feeling of losing a mother. Even though Julie wasn’t technically Kimberly’s mother, she loved her the same.
“Losing a mother is hard.” Again his voice held so much reverence.
Did that mean a little piece of him actually still cared about her feelings? About her? Or was it just his nature to be kind to someone in pain?
“What happened to the business after your father’s murder?” he asked.
“I’d planned to step in for him but everything fell apart back home after the creeps showed up in the middle of the night,” she admitted. “The office caught on fire. I was basically accused of destroying his life. His entire legacy went up in smoke, and since it was suspicious circumstances, insurance refused to release a check.”
“What stopped you from going to the law then?” He quirked a brow. With his cousin being in law enforcement, essentially being the law, she could easily see why that would be his first question.
“Whoever was behind all of this did,” she admitted. “I spoke to a deputy immediately following my father’s death. I thought I was a witness. But the deputy looked at me, spoke to me, like I’d done something wrong and it was only a matter of time before he figured out how I’d pulled it all off.”
“But did the investigation go anywhere?” He would already know the answer.
“No. The creeps showed up in the middle of the night and I took off,” she stated.
“What did you tell the deputy in the interview?” he continued.
“I told them my father didn’t like the water, didn’t swim. I said it was odd that someone who was afraid of the water would rent a boat. But they had a distant relative who I’d never heard of mention that he said something about learning to fish.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “I couldn’t seem to get it through the deputy’s thick head that even if that was true, fishing wasn’t the same thing as renting a boat. My father did want to take up fishing. Said it would be relaxing to sit on a dock and cast out a line. But there was no way he’d do that in a boat. He’d be terrified and there’d be no use being out there.”
“So he dismissed your concerns,” he said.
“I asked for an autopsy. Coroner ruled his death an accident,” she admitted.
“But then his business went up in flames and no one thinks to reopen the case?” he asked.
“Honestly, by then I was scared. My father’s behavior had been off. He’d warned me and when I tried to figure out what was going on, ask a few questions, I was told to leave it alone and that he could handle it,” she said.
“Did you tell the police about the cell phone he gave you?” he asked.
She shook her head. “He wasn’t listening to me, so I kept a few things to myself. At that point I can’t deny that I suspected my father of being involved in something illegal, and I wanted to protect his reputation. Fire Marshal said his office was claimed by an accidental fire set by hikers. Dry climate and s’mores aren’t really a good mix according to them,” she said.
“Did they track down the hikers?” he asked.
“Never found out who set the campfire because the evidence went up in flames and no one claimed responsibility,” she said.
“Any chance your father kept some information off-site?” he asked.
“Yes, I thought the same thing but there was no way I was going back to his house after everything that happened,” she admitted.
“What about your place? What are the chances that something was left there?”
“I didn’t keep any of my father’s work files at my apartment,” she said.
“Maybe he hid something when he was visiting?” He was looking for a needle in a haystack and drawing straws at this point.
“It’s possible but that’s a problem.” She glanced at the sleeping babies in the back seat. They slept so peacefully.
“Why’s that?”
“I didn’t go back to my apartment, so I have no idea where my stuff is,” she said.
“You didn’t keep up rent payments?”
“I wasn’t trying to skip out on purpose, if that’s what you mean,” she countered and she could hear the defensiveness in her own voice.
He issued a sharp sigh.
“I wasn’t calling you irresponsible.” He grunted.
“Then why don’t you just come out and say what you mean?” Frustration had her baiting him into an argument.
“Fine. I will. You let your apartment go with your belongings because you were scared if you went back someone would find you. You were mourning the loss of the only person close to you and you ran away from it all instead of sticking it out and actually working out your problems. Does that sound about right?” His heated words were knife jabs to her chest.
“Guess that sums it up as you would see it,” she said defensively.
He scoffed. “I’m pretty sure the world would see it like that, too.”
“Say what you mean, Mitch.”
The jabs were scoring direct hits and she didn’t want to hear more.
“Fine. You want the truth?”
“Go ahead,” she baited.
“You need to learn that you can’t outrun your problems.”
Kimberly shot him an angry glare. “Neither can you.”
“Spit it out.” Mitch was never one to mince words.
“It doesn’t matter.” Kimberly folded her arms. “Nothing else matters until we figure out what happened.”
And that breakthrough felt about as possible as snow in July.