A Wicked Kiss (10 page)

It wasn’t. Instead, it was a middle-aged, weaselly-looking man with a sparse mustache and even sparser hair.

“Shae Lockwood?”

I nodded, keeping my foot braced on the back of the door in case I had to slam it shut. He didn’t look dangerous, but if he’d been the guy who’d started the fire and he was here to do more damage, he wasn’t going to get inside without a fight.

He held out two envelopes. When I took them, he gave me a slight nod. “You’ve been served.”

My jaw dropped as I watched him leave without any additional explanation. Served? As in legal papers?

My first thought was the Lockwoods, but when I tore open the more official-looking envelope, I saw that wasn’t the case.

Aime Vargas was suing me in place of Allen for back child support and a portion of his estate.

I went back into the house and sat down on the couch. This couldn’t be happening. I held up the other envelope. It didn’t have anything written on it at all. I didn’t want to open it, but I knew I had to know what was inside.

It wasn’t another legal notice. It was a letter. From Aime.

Shae, I know you and Jasper killed Allen so you could get his money and be together. You’ve deprived my daughter of her father and you owe me for that. You owe me for the years that you had with Allen that should have been mine. You’re not going to fight this lawsuit. In fact, you’re going to sign a statement saying that Allen is Jenny’s father and you’re going to give her half of everything Allen left you. You’re also going to sign a statement saying that you feel so bad for taking Allen away from Jenny that you’re going to pay a thousand dollars a month in child support until Jenny turns twenty-one. If you don’t do what I say, I’m going to follow through with my lawsuit and take everything. Then I’m going to call the police and tell them that Allen told me before he died that he suspected you and Jasper were having an affair. And that he was so worried the two of you might do something to him that he asked me to come forward if he died suddenly. I expect to hear from you before the court date.

I read the letter twice, trying to figure out if she honestly thought Jasper and I had done something to Allen or if she was just using that as an excuse to blackmail me. I knew Allen hadn’t talked to her. The police had gone over his calls and texts to see if there had been any suspicious activity in the months before he’d died. I was pretty sure the detectives running the case would’ve only been too happy to tell me that my husband had been communicating with his ex-girlfriend. Even though that part was a lie, it didn’t mean she didn’t think I’d done something.

I didn’t care about the money. If Jenny was Allen’s daughter, I had no problem putting money in a trust for her – one that her mother wouldn’t be able to get her hands on. But I still didn’t believe that Jenny was Allen’s. Not really. Part of me thought it was true just because of the timing, but my gut said that there was something I was missing.

I looked at the notice again and then at the letter, pushing aside the emotions involved so that I could only see the facts.

A few minutes later, it hit me.

A paternity test. Aime didn’t want to actually go through with the court case because she knew any half-decent lawyer would be demanding a paternity test first thing. She’d written the letter to try to get me to give her the money and acknowledge paternity outside of the court without any medical proof that Jenny was Allen’s child.

I needed to call my attorney. Savill Henley had helped me through all of the legal stuff that had come up with Allen’s estate. He hadn’t mentioned anything about Allen putting aside money for a daughter and he’d know the best way to handle the situation. The first thing he’d do, I knew, would be to get a judge to order a paternity test.

I needed Allen’s DNA.

Chapter 12

I’d thrown away too much. Allen’s hairbrush, toothbrush, razor...I’d gotten rid of all of his clothes – not that I thought they’d be able to get much off of those. I couldn’t find a single thing that would have enough DNA to test against Jenny’s.

But that wasn’t the reason I was sitting on the floor in the guest room directly across from my bedroom, crying. Again. No, that had come about because I came in here, hoping that I’d missed something when I’d cleaned things out last week, and I’d indeed found something I’d missed.

Color swatches.

It was stupid, but as soon as I’d seen them, I’d started bawling like a baby.

A baby.

This had been the guest room that Allen and I had always intended to convert into a nursery. Being the planner that he was, Allen had picked up paint swatches nearly a year ago and we’d spent more than one night in this room, sitting on the floor and holding up different colors, trying to decide which one we liked the most. We’d argued over whether or not we’d want to know the baby’s sex, if we planned on painting a neutral color to keep the room as a nursery for other kids and have the older ones move out to another room. We’d talked in hypotheticals, of course, because we’d decided that we wanted to make sure we were financially and emotionally ready to have kids, but there had been no doubt in either of our minds that this would be our nursery.

I’d already cried over the children I’d never have with Allen, but when I was here, looking for some way to prove that he didn’t already have a child, it hit me harder than it had before. Even if Jenny was Allen’s, he’d never know. He’d never get the chance to be the wonderful father I knew he could’ve been. And, no matter how I felt about Aime, I also cried for Jenny. If Allen was her father, she’d never have the chance to know him, to know what a wonderful man he’d been. There would be no father-daughter dances for them. No opportunity for him to intimidate her first boyfriend or take prom pictures. No half-brothers or sisters for her to know. He’d never walk her down the aisle at her wedding.

He and I would never paint this room and fill it with all of the things that first-time parents thought they needed. We’d never argue about who was being too strict or too lenient. No family vacations. High school graduations. College. No watching our children fall in love. Get married. No excitement over grandchildren.

That stupid, cruel disease had taken all of that away from all of us and I felt every lost moment over again, as sharp and fresh as I’d felt it the day I realized I wasn’t pregnant.

I was crying hard enough that I didn’t hear Jasper come in downstairs or even if he called my name. All I knew was that one minute, I was alone and the next, his arms were around me and I was burying my face against his chest as I struggled to breath. I hated that I was still crying months later, but I wasn’t some fictional woman who could just get over things during a commercial break.

That didn’t make me feel any better about sobbing on Jasper’s shirt.

He made soothing noises and stroked my back, never once asking what was wrong. He pressed his lips to my head, murmuring words of comfort as he rocked me back and forth. We sat for what could’ve been hours or minutes, me curled on his lap, him holding me until the tears finally subsided.

“I’m sorry,” I finally said.

“For what?” Jasper pushed my hair back from my face as I looked up at him.

“For crying like this.”

“It’s okay,” he said.

“No.” I shook my head. “It’s not. You moved in and I want to be with you, but I came in here and started crying about Allen and kids and...”

“Hey.” He stopped my words with a gentle kiss. “It’s okay. Sometimes things catch me off-guard too. I’ll see or do something and think about how I wish I could tell Allen.” His smile was sad. “I sometimes think about how much I’d love to tell him about how amazing you are and all of the things we do together. About how excited I am to be living with you.”

“I don’t regret asking you to move in,” I said, needing him to know that wasn’t the problem. “Or us being together, but I can’t help feeling guilty. There was so much Allen and I had planned to do together. I sometimes feel like I should spend the rest of my life mourning every step we didn’t get to take together.”

Jasper kissed my forehead and his arms tightened around me. “You and I both know that Allen wouldn’t have wanted that. He would want you to be happy. To keep living. To do things.” He cupped the side of my face, his thumb running along my bottom lip. “He’d want you to fall in love again. To have a family.”

My stomach tightened.

“I love you, Shae.”

My head snapped up to look at him.

“You don’t have to say it back. It’s okay.” His eyes were clear, open. “I just need you to know that I love you and, one day, I want us to look at the future together, to see the family we can have.” He traced his fingers along my cheekbone and down my jaw. “I’m not saying this because I expect anything from you. I’m okay with being in the here and now with you. Just know that, when you’re ready, there is a future for you that isn’t dark and bleak. A future with me.”

I swallowed hard. I wished I could say it back to him. Tell him that I loved him. But I couldn’t. Not yet. I cared about him as more than a friend, but I couldn’t say the word. I could, however, show him how much he meant to me.

I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Fierce, hot and wet, I put everything I was feeling into the way my lips moved with his, how my tongue explored his mouth, how my teeth scraped and nipped his lips. Everything I couldn’t say, I poured into my body.

I felt his surprise for a moment and then he was kissing me back, his hand sliding up my side to cup my breast through my shirt. I arched my back, needing him to touch me more. His hand tightened as he flipped us over, his body pressing mine to the floor. My legs wrapped around his waist and I ground against him.

“Shit,” Jasper growled. His eyes were squeezed shut and I could feel the tension radiating off of him.

I started to chuckle, but the sound was lost in a gasp as Jasper pulled open my shirt, sending buttons flying everywhere. I barely had time to care about the shirt because his mouth was on me, sucking and licking and biting every inch of my skin until I was writhing beneath him.

I dug my fingers into his hair, moaning as he worked one hand between us, undoing the button on my jeans with an ease that surprised me.

“Jas,” I gasped his name as he shoved his hand further into my jeans, shoving aside my panties even as I spread my legs to let him touch me right where I needed him. I swore as he slid his finger inside me.

“Come for me, baby.” He pressed the heel of his hand against my clit and a shudder ran through me. “I want you to come on my hand.” He ran his teeth over my ribs as his hand continued to work between my legs.

“I want you inside me.” I grabbed the shoulders of his shirt.

“Later.” He licked a path from my bellybutton, up between my breasts. “Come first.” He pulled down the front of my bra, making an appreciative sound as my breasts came free.

I squirmed, moaning as his tongue began to circle my nipple. How did he know how to do such wonderful things with his mouth? Who had taught him?

I pushed the thought aside. I didn’t want to know.

I’d seen his girlfriends, at least the ones who’d warranted introductions. I didn’t know how many other women there had been. If I had anything to say about it, there wouldn’t be any more.

He twisted his fingers, driving thoughts of Jasper’s previous women from my mind. Pleasure coursed through me. I pushed against his hand, desperate for release. Desperate for the oblivion that came with it, however brief.

My body tensed, arched, and as his hand rubbed against me, I came. I shook beneath him and his lips moved against my skin. Words I could feel but not hear, but feeling them was enough.

While I was limp, pliant, Jasper pulled off my clothes, stopping every few seconds to kiss a new spot. I watched him with hooded eyes as he caressed and worshipped my body. I’d never seen anyone look at me the way he did.

He loved me.

I’d already known it, I realized. Before he’d said it. I’d seen it on his face, in his eyes. I’d felt it in his touch, when he’d held me, soothed me, cared for me. No matter how impulsive or rough the sex had been between us, for him, he’d always been making love.

He shifted so that he was on his knees and pulled his shirt over his head. My stomach clenched as he started on his pants. He was so beautiful, his body hard and muscled. He was so different than Allen had been, and it surprised me how I could feel so strongly about two men who were polar opposites.

“You’re doing it again.” Jasper smiled down at me.

“Doing what?”

“Every once in a while, you seem to go somewhere else.” He stretched out next to me. He ran his fingers over my stomach and then down to just above the thin layer of curls between my legs. “I saw it before, when my fingers were inside you. For a few seconds, you weren’t here.” He hesitated, his eyes following the movements of his hands. “Were you thinking about Allen?” His gaze flicked up, then away. “It’s okay if you were. I mean, I’d understand. You were with him for eight years...”

“I wasn’t thinking about Allen.” I put my hand over his, bringing it up to my mouth.

Jasper’s breath caught as I took his fingers into my mouth. I ran my tongue around and over his skin, tasting myself as I cleaned his fingers. When I looked up, his gaze was heated, but I could still see the concern on his face. This time, however, I knew the concern was only partially for me. He wanted to make sure I was okay, but I could also see the insecurity there. He’d been so understanding of all the times I’d mourned Allen, never once making me feel like I should focus on him. He deserved to know the truth, even if it embarrassed me.