A Place Called Home

AN UNDENIABLE ATTRACTION

“I can’t get a ride from you?” Mitch asked.

“I’ll call the dealer for you and have them deliver the car,” Thea said.

He shook his head. “Don’t bother.”

“It’s no bother. Driving out to your house and then backtracking to the dealer is a bother.”

“You have something planned for that Saturday?”

“That’s not the point,” Thea said. “The fact is, I don’t. Joel’s off somewhere that week and I’m on my own.”

“Then why won’t you come out and spend it with me?”

Thea simply stared at him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said quietly. To punctuate her point, she raised her left hand.

Mitch’s eyes did not stray once to her engagement ring, but remained steady on hers. “You kissed me back.”

Thea blinked first. “That’s not fair.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s fair. It’s a fact. Am I supposed to pretend it didn’t happen?”

“Can’t you?”

“Are you serious? Thea, why should I? There’s always been something between us ...”

Books by Jo Goodman

THE CAPTAIN’S LADY
CRYSTAL PASSION
SEASWEPT ABANDON
VELVET NIGHT
VIOLET FIRE
SCARLET LIES
TEMPTING TORMENT
MIDNIGHT PRINCESS
PASSION’S SWEET REVENGE
SWEET FIRE
WILD SWEET ECSTASY
ROGUE’S MISTRESS
FOREVER IN MY HEART
ALWAYS IN MY DREAMS
ONLY IN MY ARMS
MY STEADFAST HEART
MY RECKLESS HEART
WITH ALL MY HEART
MORE THAN YOU KNOW
MORE THAN YOU WISHED
LET ME BE THE ONE
EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED
ALL I EVER NEEDED
BEYOND A WICKED KISS
A SEASON TO BE SINFUL
ONE FORBIDDEN EVENING
IF HIS KISS IS WICKED
THE PRICE OF DESIRE
NEVER LOVE A LAWMAN
MARRY ME
A PLACE CALLED HOME

Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

A P
LACE
C
ALLED
H
OME

JO GOODMAN

ZEBRA BOOKS
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

Table of Contents

AN UNDENIABLE ATTRACTION
Books by Jo Goodman
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Copyright Page

Chapter 1

Kids made women look twice at a man. Usually in a good way. That was the lesson of these last twenty-seven days. Mitchell Baker had never really thought about it before—had had no reason to—and now he was considering that with what he’d learned, maybe in the future he would rent a kid from time to time, take him to the park, ride a bike, play touch football or catch (depending on the season), and wait for the women to gravitate toward him. They seemed to be fascinated, well, at least interested, in a man on his own enjoying himself with his kid. In this case, three kids.

It helped they were pretty cute tagalongs. He couldn’t take any credit for that, though, and he didn’t point it out to the inquiring women until pressed with comments like “She has your eyes” and “I can see where they get their athletic talent.” What his eyes had in common with eleven-year-old Emilie’s was the color green. As for athletic talent, Mitch had never noticed he was particularly gifted in that area while the twins, just turned five, were almost preternaturally coordinated.

When he pointed out that the trio didn’t exactly belong to him, the women weren’t noticeably less affected. In some cases, their curiosity was piqued and they hung around to offer helpful parenting hints, stain removal advice, and occasionally, a phone number. Life was good.

Mitch slouched in the burgundy leather chair in his lawyer’s office. Under the high gloss cherrywood table his hands were folded loosely in his lap. His thumbs tapped out a rhythm because it was not easy for him to be a body at rest. He was dressed casually: jeans, Cole Haans, white Oxford shirt (lightly starched). The cuffs of the shirt were rolled crisply to three-quarter length, revealing forearms that were dusted with golden brown hair and leanly muscled. On his right wrist he wore a watch with a scuffed brown leather strap. Plain and serviceable. He glanced down, flicked his wrist, and checked the time on Mickey’s golden silhouette.

Half past two. Where the hell was she? Didn’t she realize the kids were waiting for her?

The door behind him opened and Mitch turned his head just enough to glimpse that it was his own lawyer who had entered. “Is she here yet?”

Wayne Anderson was a button-down type who was more at ease in his own skin when he was wearing a three-piece suit. He dropped his briefcase on the table and took the chair beside Mitch. “Good afternoon to you, too.”

“Well?”

“You’re not even going to attempt a civil overture?”

Mitch merely shot him a sideways glance, his mouth flattening.

Wayne sighed. “Perhaps pleasantries are overrated. No, she’s not here yet.” Ignoring Mitch’s grunt, he opened his briefcase and pulled out the topmost folder. “You got my message, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. What was it?”

“I told Gina that it was very likely that Thea wouldn’t be here today. Just her lawyer. I’m sure—”

Mitch held up one hand, cutting Wayne off. “You told Gina?”

“Hmmm. Yesterday, I think. I made a note somewhere of when I called.”

Mitch was certain he did. “Yeah, I’ll see it when I get your bill.” Sitting up, he ran a hand through his hair. “Hell, Wayne, it wasn’t Gina you talked to. She hasn’t been at the house for days. You should have called my cell. That was Emilie.”

“Emilie? Couldn’t have been. I think I would have recognized a child’s voice.”

“Emilie is older than you and me together.” It didn’t seem like much of an exaggeration. “Body snatching. Mature woman in the guise of a self-absorbed eleven-year-old. I’m pretty sure there’s a pod in my basement.”

Wayne chuckled. “Sorry.” He snapped the briefcase shut and dropped it between the chairs. “I really thought it was Gina. Afraid I just spit out the message and hung up.” He started to open the folder, paused, and closed it again. Turning sideways in his chair he looked carefully at his client and friend. “Everything all right with you and Gina?”

There was an infinitesimal pause. “Sure.”

Wayne regarded Mitch’s carefully neutral expression, searching for a chink in the armor. He let the pause pass. “Glad to hear it. This thing with the kids could throw anyone for a loop.”

“This
thing
will be over today.” Mitch waited for some reassurance from Wayne. “Won’t it?”

“I suppose that depends on how you define ‘over.’ ”

That wasn’t what Mitch wanted to hear. His fallback position was wry humor. “You’d think a sharp lawyer like you would know that. Finished.
Finito. Le fin.
The end. History. Does that help?”

Wayne grinned. His broad, craggy features split along the fault line of his mouth. The lines at the corners of his eyes deepened. He tapped the folder with his index finger. “Have you considered a prenup?” At Mitch’s blank look, he explained. “A prenuptial agreement.”

“I know what a prenup is. What I don’t know is why you’re changing the subject.”

“I’m not. Not really. Have you and Gina considered one?”

“We’re not that serious. We haven’t even discussed marriage.” It was almost the truth. To the best of his recollection,
he
had listened while Gina talked. If he hadn’t contributed anything it wasn’t technically a conversation, was it? Just a monologue. Maybe a soliloquy. It sure as hell wasn’t a discussion. “I have issues.”

Wayne smirked. “Issues?”

“Uh-huh. Like Gina doesn’t know where she was when Kurt Cobain died.”

Whistling softly at the enormity of this chasm, Wayne shook his head. “I knew Gina was young, but—” He made that whistle-sigh again. “I didn’t realize she was practically prepubescent. You could be facing charges.”

Mitch grimaced. “Very funny. She’s twenty-two.”

“Ouch.” Since Wayne and Mitch had been sixteen when Cobain shot himself, and mourned the event with a candlelight vigil in Buddy Yarbrough’s basement listening to grunge rock, there were some significant years separating Mitch and his current girlfriend. “Then she probably doesn’t understand the existential subtext of Scooby-Doo either.”

Mitch ignored that. “Look, Wayne, I make a decent living, but women aren’t after me for my money. I don’t have three homes and a lucrative stock portfolio to protect.”

“I know, and you should let me give you the name of someone who can help you with that.” He held up one hand when he saw Mitch was running out of patience. “Actually I was thinking of Gina. She comes from money. I don’t know anything about her personal wealth, but—”

“We don’t talk about money.”

“Probably a mistake.”

“Hey, I’m telling you, there’s no marriage in my immediate future. But if I tie the knot, I promise I’ll throw the divorce work your way.”

Wayne went on as if Mitch hadn’t spoken. “There are also the children. In the event you do get serious, you want to be very clear with Gina that if the marriage goes south, Emilie, Case, and Grant are still yours.”

Now Mitch’s entire body was engaged in the conversation. He pushed himself completely upright, legs squarely under him, forearms stiffly set on the wide arms of the chair. His fingers pressed the arc of brass upholstery tacks until the tips were white. He had an urge to stand up, walk out, and keep walking. He wondered if the odd fluttering in his stomach was an uncomfortable prelude to an ulcer or because he hadn’t bothered eating lunch. “I thought we were here today to discuss that the children will be going with Thea.”

“Well, yes. We’re here to discuss it.”

“But you don’t think she’ll agree.” Mitch had never had a panic attack. Maybe that’s what was happening in his stomach. His head was a little muzzy as well.

“There are no guarantees.”

“Jesus, you sound like a lawyer.”

“I
am
a lawyer. Your lawyer. Don’t ask me to be your friend right now. You have enough of those. Me included on my off time. Right now you need a lawyer.”

“Right now I need Tums.”

Wayne didn’t smile. “In my briefcase.”

Mitch shot Wayne a skeptical look, realized he was serious, and reached for the briefcase. He let it go with a light thud when the door to the conference room opened. Keeping his eyes straight ahead, he let Wayne turn to see who was coming in. That’s what he was paying Wayne for, wasn’t it? Someone to watch his back.

Wayne got to his feet as Thea Wyndham stepped into the room, Avery Childers immediately behind her. He nodded once to Avery, a cordial lawyerly greeting that established the rules of engagement. For Thea he had an openly warm smile, accepting her hand when she extended it in his direction.

“Wayne,” she said softly. “It’s been a long time.”

“What? Four. Five years?”

“Five. The last time I saw you was at the twins’ christening.”

He’d forgotten about that. Was that the last time she had seen Mitch as well? He noticed that Mitch was still sitting in his chair and had made no attempt to get up or even look in Thea’s direction. “How about that,” he murmured. “Rather prophetic.” Thea couldn’t remove her hand from his light grasp fast enough. Wayne had felt her stiffen at his words. It did not make him hopeful that Mitch’s concerns were going to be resolved in a way that was mutually satisfying. He watched Thea skirt past Mitch without acknowledging him and take the chair Avery held out for her.