don’t have to, Kath.” Then he turned, his eyes wide. “Are you okay?” He reached toward her, trailed one finger along the burning flesh of her neck. “If they hurt you, so help me, I’ll—”
“Do what? Take down three giants yourself? I don’t think so. I’m fine. They didn’t hurt me. You’re hurt. And I’m going to take care of you. Come on.”
Chapter Eight
“Did you ever regret not having a son?” Kathryn asked Brett as she tore another piece of Italian bread from the loaf.
“Only a little,” he said. “I mean, sure, part of me always wanted a chip off the old block.” He smiled. “But I love my girls. They’re everything to me.”
Yet his voice held a whisper of regret.
“But still…” she urged.
“Yeah, I would have liked to have a son.”
You have a son. His name is Michael and he wants to meet us. Her heart thumped. How could she tell him without him hating her for keeping it from him?
“How about you? Did you want a boy?”
“No, no. I was thirty-four when I had Maya. I was pretty sure she’d be my one and only. I didn’t care whether she was male or female, as long as she was healthy.”
“She’s a beautiful little girl, Kath. She looks just like you.”
“Thank you.” The warmth of a blush raged up her neck. “She does favor me, though she has Danny’s eyes. He has those gorgeous icy blue eyes. I’m glad Maya got them. They’re so noticeable.”
“I like your warm brown ones, Kath,” Brett said, smiling. “Though Maya is beautiful. I don’t mean to say she’s not.”
“I know.” Kathryn smiled. “Tell me, do your other girls look like Zoe? In other words, like mini Bretts?”
He laughed. “Candy does. Evie favors Michelle more. Still dark hair and eyes, like me, but her facial features are softer, a little curvier, like Michelle.”
“I’d love to meet them.”
“Okay. We’ll plan on it sometime. Does that mean…” His words trailed off.
“Mean what?”
“That you want to…be with me? I mean, I hope you do. It’s what I want. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, to be honest.”
Her insides melted and she nodded. “But we don’t know each other very well, Brett. We never did, really.”
“We knew each other in the biblical sense.” He smirked.
She couldn’t help but return his roguish grin. “Evidently, we still do. But really. It’s been twenty years. There’s so much about each other that we don’t now. That we need to learn.”
“We’ll have fun learning.” He reached across the table and took her hand, massaging her palm gently with his thumb. “I want to know everything about you, Kath. Every single thing. I want to know what kind of dressing you like on your salad. What you like to watch on TV. What kind of books you like to read. What makes you laugh, smile, cry. Everything.”
“Oh Brett, that’s lovely.” Her eyes misted. There was so much he didn’t know. So much he needed to know. She opened her mouth to tell him, but lost her nerve.
“I mean it. Every word. I shouldn’t have married Michelle, Kath, when I loved you. I should have chased you down. Found you. Convinced you I could give you what you needed.”
She shook her head. “Brett, we were different people then, with different needs. You deserved the chance to play baseball.”
“I know. I guess I couldn’t compete with Stanford.”
“Oh, it wasn’t just that.” God no, it wasn’t just that. If he only knew… “You and Michelle had a history. And you had a baseball scholarship.”
“That only lasted a year.”
“I know. I’m sorry you had to quit school and work.”
“It wasn’t just that.” He looked down.
“What is it?”
“I injured my knee. Had a few surgeries. I’m fine. I mean, I get around fine, no limp. But it ended my baseball career.”
“Oh, Brett, I’m so sorry.”
Her heart sank. All this time she felt she’d done the right thing, keeping their child a secret. She’d wanted him to have the chance to play
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia