darker. “I don’t think he’d care if that madman ever got caught as long as he could stop looking over his shoulder.”
“How’s Tate?” Teagan missed her youngest brother so much. He was cute and loving, and such a brave little soul.
“We have him over a lot,” Taryn said. “The baby, too. It’s easier now that Honey’s a little older.”
Teagan asked, “And Eloise?” His father’s young wife.
Cole grunted. “That woman is worse than ever.”
Eloise had a problem with the bottle—any bottle she could lay her hands on. She also had a problem with men. She’d come onto their father right after their mother’s funeral in her hometown of Atlanta. Eloise had been after a rich man, and Guthrie Hunter was certainly that.
But clearly being the new Mrs. Hunter wasn’t enough. Last year, hours before Honey was born, Guthrie learned that Eloise had tried to seduce Cole in the past. He’d been crushed. But, thinking of the children, he’d given her another chance.
After wrapping up the call, Teagan sat back in her office chair, thinking of how happy Taryn must be. But she wouldn’t let her thoughts spiral any further down that rabbit hole. She had Tate and Honey, and would be a first-time auntie very soon.
Wasn’t that blessing enough?
Pushing out of her chair, Teagan began packing up. She was due an afternoon off. Later she might call some friends. A new restaurant around the corner had rave reviews. Then again, she hadn’t had much of an appetite lately...not since those syrup-soaked pancakes the previous Sunday.
A moment later, Teagan said goodbye to the receptionist and left through the gym’s main sliding-glass doors. But while she was walking to her car, something caught her eye. A man was climbing out of a cab. Around six-two, killer build, wearing jeans, a casual pale blue button-down and the sexiest pair of shades on the planet.
Teagan’s heart hit her throat.
What the hell was Jacob Stone doing there?
He saw her, headed straight over and, in that instant, all the memories came flooding back. Talking, dancing, making love, and suddenly she was tingling all over again, ready to melt.
His clean-shaven jaw tensed as he stopped a short distance from her and removed his sunglasses. “We need to talk.”
“So you just dropped in from New York?”
“You wouldn’t take my call.”
“There’s a good reason for that.”
“Because of how we said goodbye. I can explain.”
Teagan’s heart was pounding against her ribs. Her legs felt as weak as cooked noodles.
I can explain.
Seriously?
Continuing on to the parking lot, she gave him the bird then retorted over her shoulder, “And stay away from clichés.” So lame.
“I grew up with a mother who believed her drug addiction was more important than her only kid,” he called after her. “My father was a grifter. He specialized in taking down the elderly and people with special needs.”
Teagan pulled up. Slowly turned around. “What did you say?”
“He would fix their pipes, mend broken furniture, but he was really casing their homes, making plans to break in and take anything of value. Cash was best, but jewelry, power tools and TVs worked, too. When I was six, he pulled a Houdini. Never heard from him again. His lousy bones could be rotting on Hart Island for all I know.”
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