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Secrets of Paternity(6)

By:Susan Crosby


"Am I interrupting something?" she asked, looking ready to flee, probably because he was scowling.

"No." He was surprised by the jolt of reaction that whipped through him. "No, please. Come in."

"Um. No, thank you. I'm sorry for dropping by so late, but I saw your  light on. I just wanted to know about the estimate on the repairs. If I  owe you more money."

Maybe it was because he was already high on adrenaline from meeting  Kevin that his heart started beating louder. That was part of it, he  supposed, but more likely it was because he found her appealing. He  liked that she was a woman of her word, that she'd shown up when she  said she would, proving that such people did exist. He also liked the  wary look in her eyes, similar, in fact, to Kevin's expression, even the  same shade of blue-

"Mr. Paladin?" she said, taking a step back, her expression even warier.

"Would you like to have dinner?" he asked. He needed to talk to someone  about what had just happened. He had a feeling she would sympathize or  cheer or give him good advice on how to handle the situation. Maybe she  even had teenagers herself.

"With you?" she asked.

He smiled at the shock in her voice. "I can't really invite you to go out with anyone else, can I?"

"No, thank you," she said firmly. "Do I owe you more money?"

He was disappointed but not surprised at her turndown. "My mechanic  hasn't given me an answer. If you'll leave your name and number this  time, I'll give you a call when I know."

"I'll come back." She went down the stairs.

James watched her until she was out of sight, admiring the sway of her  rear in her formfitting jeans. Although slender, she wasn't lacking  curves in all the right places.

He wondered why he found her so intriguing, especially since she didn't  flirt, and talked to him only as a person intent on doing business. In  fact she'd looked at him at one point as if he'd had the plague.  Physically she tempted him, but that wasn't all there was to it.

Deciding to ignore his disappointment, he fastened on his leather chaps,  changed his shoes to boots, grabbed his jacket and helmet and headed  out of the house. He needed company and he wanted a drink. He would find  both-and do a little work at the same time.



Her nerves shot, Caryn sat in her car to unwind. About the time she  would've driven away, she saw James come down the stairs, get on the  motorcycle parked out front-his loaner, she guessed-and take off.                       
       
           



       

She followed him. She wasn't even sure why, except that she was leaving at the same time and-

No. That wasn't the truth. The truth was that she was fascinated by him.  He'd obviously done well for himself, if his house was any indicator.  He looked really good dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, too. Like a normal  person-except for the scruffy beard. Not like a biker, a risk taker, an  adventurer. Like Paul.

Caryn wished she could show James a picture of Kevin, to talk about her  wonderful son, to thank the man for his generosity in making Kevin's  life possible. To ask why he'd done it. But she couldn't. Kevin had to  make the overture, and he didn't seem inclined to do so yet.

She'd been tempted-too tempted-to go to dinner with James. She was  already withholding information from him-for good reason-but anything  more could be interpreted as lies. If Kevin ever contacted him, and she  and James met officially, it could be disastrous with lies between them.  So far everything she'd done was forgivable, under the circumstances.

She let a car get between hers and his motorcycle, hoping he hadn't  spotted her. She wanted to know where he was headed after she'd turned  him down.

The adventure of following him revved her up. She smiled at the  excitement clamoring inside her. It was the last thing she needed,  really, this adrenaline rush, this risky scenario. She'd just gotten her  life together after Paul's death. She didn't need this kind of  complication.

If only James didn't push so many of her hot buttons-like the fantasy of  finally meeting him, and the deep-down wish for Kevin to have a father  again, a male influence, an anchor.

And then there was that other hot button-a year without intimacy. Her  body had come back to life with a vengeance, just by being near him.

She realized he was driving, not in circles exactly, but as if trying to  lose her. After a few more turns and cutbacks he pulled up in front of a  loud and seedy bar where the street was full of parked motorcycles,  some mean-looking ones.

She realized she was lost. Didn't have a clue where she was or how to  get home from there. Worst of all, he'd spotted her. It was ridiculous  of her to even try driving past him when he stared right into her car.

She slowed to a stop. He came up alongside her driver's window, pulled off his helmet.

"Change your mind?" he asked.

"About what?"

"Having dinner with me."

"No."

"Why were you following me?"

"I don't know."

His brows lifted.

"Okay. Frankly, I was curious. Beyond that, I don't have a clue.  Honestly. I saw you pull out, and I just … followed. And now I'm lost  because you were trying to lose me, and I was focused on staying with  you instead of on where I was."

"If I'd wanted to lose you, I would have," he said blandly.

Of course. She should've known that. "You were playing a game with me?"

"I was seeing if you were following me. You were." He leaned an arm  against the top of her car. "The invitation holds, Mysterious."

She glanced at the bar as another bike pulled up. A beefy man helped a  woman climb off it. Both of them had tattoos down their arms and around  their necks.

"Not here," he said with a quick, contagious grin.

"I'll bet that smile works, most of the time," she said, relaxing. He  hadn't done anything to intimidate her, even if she'd felt intimidated  at times. But that was her problem, not his.

"You intrigue me," he said.

She did? She was so straightforward, usually, and so … unintriguing. Was  it because she was keeping herself mysterious, and therefore, hard to  get? Instead of telling him he was ridiculous, that she was the least  intriguing person on earth, she smiled. "Then I should keep doing what  I'm doing," she said leisurely.

"Ah. It's the chase that excites you."

She started to flirt back, then realized she had no right to. What was  she thinking? She gathered up her long-denied, flattered libido and  adjusted her body language and tone of voice. "How do I get back to  Market?"

He barely skipped a beat before giving her directions, then he took a step back. His smile disappeared.

"I'll see you in a couple of days," she said.

He nodded.

She felt awful as she pulled away, like a big tease, like a teenager  without any life skills. She'd responded to him without thinking it  through. She was sinking deeper into a situation she should be avoiding  at all costs.

And she was afraid she wasn't going to be able to stop.



                       
       
           



       

Four





James's usual way of doing business was to put together a binder  containing copies of his research and phone log to give to the client as  the investigation progressed. For purely selfish reasons, he did none  of it for Kevin, deciding that the boy might just take the materials and  run. Instead he would have to come in and stay awhile to hear the  results of James's initial inquiry. If nothing else, it would give them  some time together. Maybe it wouldn't only be about business.

It was Tuesday afternoon, three days since Kevin had appeared in his  life. James had lived in a kind of fog, focusing enough to work, but  easily distracted, not only because of Kevin but also Mysterious.

He wasn't sure what to think of her. She'd followed him, flirted with  him, then shut him down. Not a woman who knew her own mind at all.  Unpredictable …

Which is what Kevin had called his mother, too. Apparently it was the  watchword for the modern woman. But he preferred unpredictable to the  expected, anyway.

James had called Kevin's cell phone a while ago, had caught him leaving his last class of the day. He was on his way.

Deciding that the way to a teenage boy's heart was through his stomach,  James set bowls of salsa and chips on the kitchen counter, deciding the  kitchen would be a less intimidating place to talk than in the living  room.

He wandered to the front window to watch for Kevin's arrival. Anxiety  ate away at him. Nothing in his experience had prepared him for this. No  matter what he did or said, Kevin could perceive him as trying too hard  or not hard enough, or whatever else was within the realm of  possibility in a teenager's mind.