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280 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 27, 2007
“Did O’Reilly show for this one?”
John had stood her up again. A cold knot of hurt lodged in her throat, and she swallowed against it.
“Why do you let him get away with this?” A frown pulled Steve’s dark brows together and he shrugged. “You wouldn’t tolerate it from anyone else.”
So what if he missed the sonogram, missed seeing the awesome reality of their baby just weeks from birth?
The baby had been a kick to the jaw, thanks to a faulty condom.
“John?” His partner’s voice greeted him and sent a shiver over his nerves, as it always did when he was unprepared. And even sometimes when he was prepared, when they sat close together in the unmarked unit, and he remembered the way it had been between them. Once upon a time when they’d been more than just colleagues and friends.
“I know you and Lanie are going out tonight, but I need a favor.” Apology hovered in Beth’s voice.
John shrugged into his leather jacket. Memories of making love to Beth one long ago night in the battered Ford clicked through his mind. Guilt tore through him, and he shoved the recollection away. His focus should be on the woman in his embrace, not the one who didn’t want him anymore.
The brief contact spread comfortable warmth through his body, and he shrugged away.
Except she wasn’t the woman sitting in the driver’s seat. She wasn’t the woman he’d sworn to protect with his life. She wasn’t the woman he’d loved without hope for years.
“You did.” The night she’d told him it was over, right after he’d poured out his heart, offered to be Nicole’s daddy and tried to get her to forget the man who’d ruined her life.
Lips brushed his. “I love you.” He struggled to open his eyes. “Beth?” Warm fingers linked through his. “No, it’s me.”
He glared at her, almost hating her for standing between him and Beth’s safety. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“If Mitchell wanted John dead, he had the opportunity to kill him instantly. He chose not to.”
“Tell me about John’s relationship with Beth.”
“When John stopped Mitchell’s attack on Beth, they were sharing an apartment.” Caitlin pulled a copy of a report from the file.
“He left John alive for a reason— to punish him, maybe, because Beth preferred him. If he kills Beth, she can’t want anyone else. And O’Reilly has to live with the aftermath.”
And John had perpetrated the lie as well. He’d never mentioned a romantic entanglement with his partner, either.
John had never said he loved her. He whispered how much he wanted her, how beautiful she was to him, but never that he loved her.
His lack of interest in their child. The forgotten doctor’s appointments. The nights she woke alone, to find him standing at the window, brooding and staring out at the waves.
“I’m in love with a man who loves another woman, and I’ve trapped him with a pregnancy. Oh my God.”
“I thought he was getting used to the idea, that he loved me and would love our baby. . . God, how could I not have seen this?”
“Why do you think I came down here? To keep her safe.”
“Mitchell believes his wife left him for you, doesn’t he?” “Yeah, he does. She left him because he was abusive, but it’s easier for him to blame me.”
“You love her, don’t you?”
“Were you sleeping with her, too?”
“Of course not.” That same harsh laugh escaped her, and she turned away. “If she was sleeping with you, you wouldn’t have needed me, would you? So were you thinking of her while you were with me?”
Relationship. Anything but. She’d been a convenient lay.
She could stand on her own; she didn’t need him. Lanie could take care of herself.
At least John hadn’t chosen Lanie because she looked like Beth. The bitter thought flitted through Lanie’s confused mind. Beth’s petite, curvy build was nothing like the tall, slender, athletic frame Lanie shared with her Falconetti cousins.
“I think the real question might be who matters more— your partner or the mother of your child?”
Shame burned along his skin. He’d failed her in so many ways, starting with the first time he touched her while still believing he loved another woman.
John tugged a hand through his hair and over his nape. “I. . . I’ll go up in a little while. I’m going to check in on Nicole and Beth.”
He wanted to shake her. “Not real? That’s funny. I could have sworn that was you with me that night in Atlantic City, screaming you loved me while we made love.”
“The reality is you left her as soon as she told you she was pregnant, if you were ever there to start with. Write her a child support check every month and get out of her life. You’ll be doing her a favor.”
The memory burned him with shame. She’d loved him, and he’d been too blind to see it.
... mussed dark hair, a shadow of stubble on his jaw, oft-washed Springsteen T-shirt, faded jeans with a hole in one pocket.