Scarlett squinted against the California sunshine streaming through the bedroom window.

Déjà vu.

She’d been here before, waking up with his hand on her breast—but this time she welcomed his warm body wrapped around hers. This time she never wanted to leave.

Zings of sensation still fired through her body from last night’s lovemaking. She wanted to hold them inside her, so she never forgot this feeling. His hands, his lips, his tongue had sent her over the edge more than once. She’d won the sexual lottery with this god. It was everything she’d hoped it would be and so much more. When a girl waits as long as she had, there were certain expectations, and Gavin didn’t disappoint. In fact, he hadn’t disappointed twice.

This changed everything. She would get hurt because she’d given into love and desire. She’d worry about that another day. Right now, with the heat and smell of him all around her, it seemed like the best possible decision she could’ve made.

But what about tomorrow and the day after that? She didn’t have a plan for anything beyond this moment in bed with her husband.

“I can hear you thinking,” said the sleepy man behind her.

“Sorry to wake you.” His voice chased away her confused and worried thoughts. She snuggled back into his hard body.

“Don’t let your body write a check you’re not willing to cash, little girl.” He flipped her over and began to explore her body with his mouth.

“I—ahhh.”

He delved and played, pulling her further under with each lick and kiss. The wild child inside her chanted more, more, more, and for once they were in complete agreement.

His phone rang. They ignored it. It rang again.

She almost ignored it a second time for the promise his talented mouth offered. “You better get that. My phone is downstairs. It might be my family.”

With a curse, he rolled to grab his phone. He glanced at the screen then fumbled with the phone. “Hello. Yeah. No, it’s fine, I’m up.” He adjusted the pillow behind his back. “Las Vegas? Are you shitting me?” He plowed his fingers through his hair.

What in the world had him so upset?

“And they’re still living there?” He kicked off the blanket and sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hand.

“Yeah. Yeah. Email it to me. Thanks.”

He let the phone slip through his fingers and stared out the window.

“Gavin? Are you alright?”

“No.” He shot the word at her like a bullet.

Wanting to give him space but hating that he was so obviously upset, she crawled across the bed to kneel beside him. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he grabbed his jeans and yanked them on, exiting the room without a sound.

She gathered the sheet to her breast. Her mind raced. What had happened? A tiny sliver of her heart hurt that Gavin had shut her out. But a bigger part, the part he owned, ached for him because something serious was going on with him.

He came striding back into the room with his laptop, his face sober and determined. He motioned for her to scoot over, then propped himself against the headboard and pulled her to sit beside him. She didn’t understand what was going on, but if he wanted her close, then that’s where she would be.

She put her hand on his face and turned him toward her. “Tell me what’s wrong, you’re scaring me. Is it my family, more media attention…me?”

He took her hand and kissed her palm. “That was a private investigator I hired to find…”

“To find what?” She searched his face for some explanation.

“My son.”

* * *

Her face went white as bone. Maybe he should’ve broken it to her more gently. “Scarlett—”

“Your son?” She sat up and put some distance between them. He didn’t blame her.

“Well, I think he’s my son.”

“You think? I don’t understand.” She wrestled the sheet to cover her nudity.

“After Johnny’s accident, all of his things were boxed up and sent to me. At the time the thought of picking through his belongings seemed obscene. But a few months ago I finally got the courage to go through some of the boxes, and I found this letter.” He took his wallet from the nightstand and showed her the note.

While Scarlett read, he tried to wrap his brain around the fact that his son was in Las Vegas. He’d just been in Las Vegas. How close had he been to him? Had he passed him on the street?

The paper shook as she read. He watched and tried to judge her reaction. Her small hand went to her mouth, and then she gasped and looked at him. “He paid her off?”

“Yes.” There it was again. The gut shot that broke his heart.

She turned back to the letter and read more. “Johnny never told you about this?”

“No. I think he was coming to my house when he had his accident. It’s dated the same day. But who knows. His behavior had become so erratic he could’ve written it that morning and forgotten about it by that evening.”

“I’m so sorry, Gavin. Has the private investigator found Tara and the baby?”

He scrubbed his face. “Yeah. He found the birth certificate. But he’s not living with Tara. He’s with an aunt. Doug, the PI, is emailing me the info.”

“Then what?”

His computer dinged, and his answer clogged in his throat. With an unsteady hand, he opened the email. There was an address, and the aunt’s name—Kristy Phillips. There were two attachments. He opened the first, and a birth certificate came on the screen. The name Aiden Bradley Bain burned his retinas. He couldn’t look away from it. Tara was listed as the mother, but the place for the father was blank.

“Aiden Bain. It’s a good name.” She stroked her hand up and down his arm.

He opened the other attachment. The smiling face of a blond-haired boy with serious gray eyes stared back at him. “Oh, my...” He gripped the computer so tightly he thought it would crack. If there was any doubt this child was his son, it vanished the moment he saw those eyes. They were his eyes. He looked at them every morning in the mirror.

“He’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“Two years old. Two fucking years.” He shook his head. “Johnny, I’d kick your ass if you were here right now.” His voice broke on the last word. Shit, he couldn’t see the screen for all the moisture in his eyes. With several deliberate blinks and years of practiced apathy, he managed not to cry like a baby.

Scarlett didn’t try to tell him it would be alright. She just held him, and with her head resting on his shoulder they stared into the perfect face of his son.

“So, what are we gonna do?” Her voice was soft.

“We?” He wished his voice was stronger, but he was using all his air to keep his lungs moving.

“Yes. We.” Her smiled knitted some of his wounds together.

“I don’t know.” He set the computer aside. “I want to go talk to the aunt. I want to meet my son.”

“Okay.” She threw the sheet back and got out of bed.

“Yeah? You’re not going to tell me to wait for a paternity test or let the lawyers hash it out?”

She pulled his shirt over her naked body. “Nope.”

“Really?”

“Would it do any good if I did?”

“Not one bit.” He laughed.

She nodded. “Also, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling, but if it were me, I’d want to know immediately if he was well taken care of and safe. So no, I won’t try to stop you.”

He jumped off the bed and kissed her sweetly. “Thank you.”

“I’m with you, rock star.” Her warm fingers caressed his face. “I’ve got your back.”

* * *

The drive back to L.A. to retrieve the rest of their belongings took half the time it had yesterday. Scarlett understood the urgency. She’d meant what she said. Wild horses wouldn’t keep her away from her child. Pity was something he would hate, but she couldn’t help it. To be betrayed by his best friend, the man who’d been closer than a brother, must be a terrible burden to bear.

“How much money did Johnny give her?”

“I have no idea. It must’ve been a lot for her to have never come to me for more. Then again, she wouldn’t have been able to find me without a lot of effort.”

“What do you mean?”

“After John died I was drowning. I got the hell out of L.A. and moved back to Washington State. For about eight months I lived in Neah Bay, on the Olympic Peninsula, population eight hundred sixty-five. Have you ever heard of it?”

“No.”

“Exactly. It’s incredibly beautiful. But more importantly, remote. It sits at the very tip of the peninsula, about as far away from people and Los Angeles as I could get. No one knew me, or if they did, they left me alone. I needed that time to grieve, time to get my shit together, time to come to terms with my life without my best friend, my brother.”

“Did it work?”

“Yes and no. I grieved. But I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to come to terms with Johnny’s death. I made some peace, though. The real work came with my shrink when I got back to Seattle. I really felt like I’d put it all in its place. You know?” He tapped his thumb ring against the gear shift. “Then this happened.”

“I can’t imagine how you feel.” She turned in her seat and took his hand. “You obviously still love him, but you’re also furious with him. And rightfully so. It must eat at you—the unfinished business.”

He glanced at her. “Yeah. That’s exactly it. If he were alive, we’d fight hard about this, like bloodshed hard, then make up, and figure out how to get my son back. Even though he did this stupid thing with Tara, he would’ve been on my side. That’s how we were. In his own twisted way, he was trying to protect me.”

She clasped his hand.

His thumb brushed back and forth over her knuckles. “You must feel the same way about your mom, huh?”

“What?”

“Your mom. You probably feel the same way about her.”

She withdrew her hand and flipped down the visor mirror. “That was a long time ago, and it’s really not the same.” Her fingers wove through her unmanageable mane as she picked up one piece then the other to braid it.

“Isn’t it? You still love her, but you also have to be hurt and angry she left you. You never got to resolve things with her either.”

The love, pain, and longing her mother left in her irresponsible wake pushed against Scarlett’s eyes. “My mother chose to leave me. Johnny didn’t choose to leave you. It is different.”

He shrugged. “I don’t think it matters if they chose it or not. People we loved still left us. And I’d think it’s harder for you. You were a kid.”

The pop of the visor being flipped up filled the car. “It’s not the same, Gavin. And being a kid has nothing to do with it. I’m just glad I didn’t have to suffer a lifetime of her antics.”

He scratched the side of his face. “But you kind of have suffered because of her. Haven’t you? I mean, you told me you felt like everyone compared you to her. Plus, she’s your mother. Every kid loves their mom. Mine was crap, and I still loved her.”

“Can we not talk about this?”

“Fine. But I don’t think life happens to us in a vacuum, Scarlett. One thing connects to another, like a screwed-up puzzle.”

She started to argue. But with the clarity of a lightning bolt, she realized he was right. She did carry around an ugly ball of love, fury, and hurt because of her mother. She mostly focused on the fury—it was safer—but the love and hurt were huge pieces of that screwed-up puzzle too.

Things began to click into place, and she could see all the ways her unresolved feelings about her mother had influenced her whole life. Her inability to truly trust people. How did she know they wouldn’t leave her if they knew the real her? The way she kept secrets to protect those she loved. That was a lie. She kept secrets to protect herself. And her compulsion to be perfect and never step the slightest bit out of line. All the things she knew were holding her back in her life, but were so much a part of her that she found safety and comfort in them.

He was right. But it was too much to unravel while trapped in a vehicle with a man who saw too much. Who needed a therapist when she had her own rock-n-roll shrink?

And she didn’t like it one bit.