Country Romance - Carolyne Aarsen Page 0,38

voice?

"Doesn't matter. I shouldn't have fallen for it." Wyatt glanced over the page again, the shameful memories returning.

Then Adele reached out for the book. "Can I have a look?"

Wyatt gave it to her, looking over at the sliding door. The kids were still watching the television.

His daughters.

And his son.

"You're sure this is the girl?" Adele asked, pointing to Jane.

Wyatt nodded.

"I think that's Sally. Thinner, blonder." Adele started typing on her phone. "I met Sally only a couple of years ago. She already had Dean," she said, sounding distracted. "But I am friends...was friends...with her on Facebook. I haven't deactivated her account yet. Her mother wanted me to keep it up for a while."

Biting her lip, she started flicking her finger, frowning at her screen, then stopped, nodding. She laid the phone on the table, turning it so he could see the screen. "Here. An older picture. From before I knew her."

The picture was, again, of a crowd of people. Adele enlarged the picture, zooming in on a girl. Same long blonde hair as Jane. Same sly smile. He put the photo book closer and then he saw the resemblance.

"That's her. That's Jane, or, as it might appear, Sally."

Adele ran her index finger back and forth over her lips as if thinking. "That certainly looks like her. And the timing would match up. I just wonder why she went under another name."

"For the record, she was the only girl I slept with before I married Theresa. Again, Wyatt felt the need to defend himself.

Adele looked from the phone to the book, frowning, as if thinking. "I think that was about the time she was separated from her husband. Sally always made it sound like Dean was her ex-husband Paul’s kid. And she never mentioned a trip to Mexico. Nothing on her Facebook page about that either." Adele frowned then looked over at Wyatt, her eyes wide. "And Jane was her mother's name and Sally’s middle name."

"Okay. That all adds up then." Wyatt blew out his breath, trying to find his balance in this new place. "I have a son."

Though he spoke quietly, the four words resonated through the kitchen, filling the space with the importance of their meaning.

Adele's head was lowered, her hair obscuring her features, but Wyatt saw the tears sliding down her cheeks. She swiped at them, pulling in a shaky breath.

The sight broke his heart, and he moved closer, slipping a comforting arm across her shoulders.

"I'm sorry. I know you brought him here with the idea of leaving, but I'm guessing this is hard for you too."

She nodded, fingering away another errant tear. "He’s not my son, but I feel like he belongs to me in other ways."

Wyatt shifted a bit, pulling her closer, his heart breaking for her.

But behind the sorrow came another, deeper emotion. And when she lifted her face to his, when he looked deep into her shimmering eyes, sitting so close their breath tangled, he felt an inexorable pull toward her.

He wasn't sure who moved first but then their lips brushed, tentative, exploring. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder, then slipped around to the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair.

And then their kiss deepened, altered.

Wyatt felt his heart thumping against his ribs, his feelings shifting, absorbing this amazing woman.

And then, reluctantly, other thoughts fed into the moment, growing more real, growing larger.

The kids.

She was leaving now.

He was the first to pull away and, to his surprise, she released a faint moan of protest, her hand tightening its grip on his neck. Then she too drew back.

But her eyes were fixed on his, as if trying to see him better.

"Please don't apologize," she whispered, lowering her hand to his shoulder but leaving it there.

He felt as if he should, but he also knew what she meant. Their kiss had shaken his foundation. Had sliced its way into his soul.

To apologize would trivialize and dismiss what he’d felt.

And from the flush on her cheeks and the glow in her eyes, he sensed she had been as moved as he.

"But now what?" he asked, unable to stop his hand from fingering a strand of hair away from her face. An excuse to touch her even though he knew he should stop.

She swallowed, her throat moving again, her teeth worrying her lower lip. "We keep our distance. I can't..." She let the words trail off then drew in a sigh. "I have my plans and I can't change them. I have to