She looked up at James and then turned her watery gaze on him. “I held Patterson—and the two of you—at arm’s length for years. He was being sweet to me, bringing me supper, and I cost him his life. When I talk to you, when I see you, all I can think is that because of me he’s not here. I cost…” She looked off into the distance and sobbed even harder than the day they’d buried Patterson. The only thing worse had been the morning that Patterson died.
James looked worried as Vincent took her in his arms. In their profession, they’d seen their fair share of grief, both real and fake, over the years. Enough to be able to tell the difference. The pain in her eyes made his own chest ache. It didn’t matter what they thought. This was how she felt. They’d only scratched the surface and the catharsis had to come before she’d be able to move on. In that sense, her sobs gave him a little hope, though it hurt to listen to them. He was pushier than his brother but causing a woman pain for any reason went against his nature.
James got up from the couch and returned with her glass of iced tea.
“What happened today at the hospital?” Vincent asked, going with his gut. “When I saw you walking through the parking lot you looked like you’d been sucker punched. I was actually headed your way, even before you fell, to make sure you were all right.
She accepted the glass of tea from James and took a long gulp of it. She cleared her throat and smiled at James when he offered her the box of tissues. “Thank you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose it like that and make you uncomfortable.”
Vincent had to smile at her attempt to evade. He shook his head when she looked at him. “What happened at the hospital?”
She turned to James but he shook his head, too, and raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, honey. You’re not getting away that easily. Tell us what happened at the hospital.”
Leah frowned but finally said, “I was visiting Grace Warner. You know she had her baby boy last night.”
“Yes. We heard about it from Hank Stinson this morning.”
“His name is Grant and he’s…precious.” She held her hands out in front of her in a representation of the baby’s size. “She looked…so happy. She always looks so happy. And afterward, I was in the hall and I saw Jack, and…” Her gaze was far off and another sob choked her up. “He…” Her voice quavered and she shook her head.
“He—what?” Vincent asked. He knew not to be defensive. Jack was a good guy. Whatever this was it was deeper than her encounter with a friend.
She blotted her eyes and took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He looked so joyful. There’s no doubt that Grant is Ethan’s biological son. The resemblance is uncanny. And Jack was just over the moon about his son. There he was, loaded down like a pack mule with gifts for the baby, plus bringing Grace her things, and he looked like he was walking on clouds. He was happy. Patterson will never know that…and if I hadn’t been so stubborn, maybe…”
He and James exchanged a look and Vincent said, “Maybe…what?”
Now her cheeks turned pink as she looked from him to James and then back again. “I’m presuming more than I should, I think. It’s not important.”
Vincent’s eyebrows arched high and he put his hand on her thigh to stop her when she tried to rise from the sofa. She plopped back down and her hand came to rest dangerously close to his groin but it was obvious she didn’t realize it in her emotional state. “You’re not leaving us hanging on that note, fluff. Finish what you wanted to say. Now.”
She raised an eyebrow at his more forceful tone but stayed in her seat. The pink grew even darker in her cheeks. “When I saw him in the hallway, for a second, I imagined one of you in his place. If I hadn’t been so stubborn…”
James’s smile was obvious in Vincent’s peripheral vision but he didn’t look away from her, even when she cast her eyes downward, trying to hide her feelings.
“You imagined us in Jack’s place?”
Leah chewed on her lower lip until he was afraid she’d draw blood and he leaned down so he could see into her eyes as she spoke. “Like I said…I was being very presumptuous. Forget I said anything.” She flicked her hazel gaze up to his before averting it again.
She’d been imagining one of them as the father of her baby. Vincent had to clear his throat before he could say anything. “I can just see you, big with our baby growing inside you, fluff. I encountered Grace on several occasions while she was expecting, and I can envision you with that same sparkle in your eyes and glow in your cheeks. Just thinking about it…” She probably didn’t need to know right at that moment that the thought was making him hard. What was happening in his chest cavity was more important.