The Soldier's Forever Family

Forcing herself to concentrate on his question, she said, “It’s almost ten p.m. Simon has been asleep for more than an hour. Maddie’s sitting with him until I get back.”

“What do you—” He stopped, grimaced, then raised his left hand to the back of his neck. “Sorry. There’s no call for me to snap at you. Come in.”

“Actually...” she said, stepping past him then turning to face him as he closed the door. She drew a deep breath. “...I came to apologize to you.”

He looked both surprised and a little suspicious. “For?”

She spread her hands, grateful they were steady. Mostly. “For that awkward meeting this afternoon. For showing up here and making your life more difficult. Basically, for everything that’s gone wrong for you since we met six years ago.”

After a few silent beats, he dropped his arm to his sides, his mouth twisting into what was probably intended to be a smile. “Thanks, but none of this is your fault. No apologies are necessary.”

Her eyes felt hot, her throat tight. Considering everything he’d been hit with this week, she wouldn’t have blamed him if he took to his heels. Again. Instead, he’d believed her about her son’s parentage and immediately started making arrangements for Simon’s future. And while he had good reason to resent the years he’d missed with his son, he had quietly taken his share of the culpability.

She blinked and cleared her throat, pushing aside her conflicted emotions to deal with later. “You have to admit your life was a lot less complicated a few days ago.”

“I’ll give you that one. Still not your fault.”

“But I—”

“Joanna.” His hands fell lightly on her shoulders as he gazed down at her. “We’ve done this already, remember? We agreed to put the past behind us and focus on what’s best for Simon.”

She looked up at him, her pulse rate already speeding up in response to his nearness, the feel of his hands on her. “We do keep circling back around, don’t we?”

He brushed a hand over her arm. “Can’t seem to help it.”

No, she thought. She couldn’t help trembling when he touched her. Or stop her knees from going weak when he stood this close to her. Whatever it was about Adam that made him so fascinating to her—whatever drew her in a way no one else had—she could no more resist it now than she had that first magical night when she hadn’t even tried.

She moved abruptly away, needing to put some distance between them. She stopped by his sofa, ruffling the fringed edge of the handmade throw tossed over one arm. “Did you knit this?” she teased to change the mood, smiling at the whimsical image of him bent over needles and yarn.

He chuckled, though she thought she detected a note of strain beneath the humor. “My grandmother made it for me years ago. A Christmas gift, I think. It’s the only thing I still have from her.”

She might have asked him a few more questions, but he forestalled her by asking, “Did you tell your sister where you were going?”

She nodded. “I told her I wanted to talk with you. She said she’ll be fine in my suite until I get back.”

“You mean she trusted you to meet with me without legal representation?”

His tone was a mix of irony and irritation, but she decided to focus on the former. “I had to promise I wouldn’t sign anything,” she said lightly. “What about Walt? How would he feel about us talking out of court?”

“He’d probably be annoyed that we deprived him of another chance to stare at your sister. I think he’s intrigued by her.”

She shrugged. “Most guys are.”

“Yeah?” He sounded a little surprised. “Huh.”

She frowned, wondering if she should be insulted on Maddie’s behalf. “You don’t think my sister is attractive?”

“Well, sure.” He kept his gaze trained on her face when he added, “Just not my type.”

Before she could decide how to respond, he changed the subject again. “I saw you earlier this evening. You were with Leah McGee. She was crying.”

Startled, she blinked. “Oh. I didn’t see you.”

“You were occupied with Leah. Is she okay?”

She wasn’t sure how much she should tell him. Leah wasn’t her patient, but the other woman had trusted her enough to confide in her. She didn’t want to betray that trust.

Joanna had been walking back to her suite with Simon and Maddie after dinner when she’d spotted Leah crying in the secluded alcove. She’d sent Maddie and Simon on to watch a movie in the suite while she lingered to ask if there was anything she could do to help the distraught young mother. She’d explained that she didn’t want to intrude, but she was trained in family therapy, if that seemed helpful. Her careful encouragement had unleashed a fresh torrent of tears and jumbled words from the woman who had very much needed a sympathetic listener.