Page 37 of Fighting His Fate
What’s wrong with me?
19
Brett cursedhimself as he walked, the humid night air surrounding him like an unwanted hug. He’d told the HERO Force guys he was getting some air and to keep an eye on Grace and the twins, then he’d taken off down the road.
Grace was a virgin, and he’d damn near fucked her senseless without a care in the world. It was bad enough that he’d wrecked her engagement to John, a man who actually had the potential to take care of her and make her happy long-term, but now he’d stooped to an unconscionable low—even for him.
He didn’t do virgins, just like he didn’t do doe-eyed young women whose adoring glances made it clear they thought sex meant they were in a relationship. He liked his women to be realists, grown-ups who knew the difference between love and sex and understood he was only offering the latter.
Grace is a fucking virgin.
He shook his head. How the hell was that possible? How did a beautiful woman her age manage to avoid having sex? How had John dated her for months on end without ever crossing that line? Brett would never be able to resist her for that long. One kiss and he’d been drowning in her, desperate for the lightest touch, the smallest crumb she was willing to give him.
He hummed softly as he remembered the feel of her eager body beneath him, pulling him closer. She made him come alive with a ferocity he’d rarely experienced. He was twelve kinds of a bastard for what he’d almost done, and worse, he wanted her still. And now that he knew what she tasted like, knew how good it would be between them, he would only suffer more for wanting her.
He’d had no right to bring her here in the first place, the toll on her life already far too high. But he’d been a coward where the children were concerned, all too happy to have her tag along to ease the burden on him.
You’re the worst kind of selfish.
It was all too much. He needed to get the hell out of here, pronto. Get away from Grace and the twins and the responsibility and all of the mistakes that traveled with him across the state like so much baggage. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets.
He’d been planning on keeping Grace and the twins with him while he dealt with Fleming, but it occurred to him that finding the twins’ grandmother first had certain advantages. He could hide Grandma and the babies at a hotel somewhere. They’d be safe, Grace could return home, and he’d be able to deal with Fleming—alone.
Maybe she’ll even make up with John.
The idea made his stomach turn, a fierce bolt of possessiveness darkening the edges of his vision. He couldn’t watch Grace go back to that man, couldn’t stand to have a wall separating him from the woman he wanted beneath him.
His cell phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket with an angry yank. “Hello?”
“Is this Mr. Brett Champion?"
“Yes.”
“This is Michael Depew from the law offices of Asher Warring & Lexus. I apologize for calling at this hour, but I’ve been trying to reach you and just got your number from the state police. Joni and Luke Matheson were clients of ours. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.”
“The Mathesons recently drew up wills, in which they named you guardian of their children, Tobias and Theodore Matheson.”
The night shifted into sharp focus, every detail burning itself into his memory. Distant crickets. A streetlamp illuminating the parking lot.“What?”
“The police explained you were looking for the next of kin. I have information that will shed some light on this situation. I realize this will come as a shock, but you are in fact the children’s biological father, thereforeyouare the twins’ next of kin.”
Brett cocked his head. “That’s not possible. I never slept with Joni.”
“While I’m not aware of the details, the Mathesons were quite clear. In the event of their death, our firm was to notify you of your paternity and their request for your guardianship.”
“What don’t you understand? There is no way I could be their—” He froze, the distant memory of a conversation, a signature on a line. His hand with the phone in it dropped to his side. It was possible. It was more than possible. He was suddenly light-headed, his world as he knew it exploding around him.
No.
This isn’t happening.
He pictured the boys’ sweet faces, their features so like his own as a baby.
She wouldn’t have.
Not without talking to me first.
