Roxanne Claire - Barefoot by the Sea

“I’ll get her,” she said, pushing up. “Ashley?”

She headed down the hall to take the back stairs up to Ashley’s room, but as she passed the master, Ashley’s arm reached out and grabbed her.

“Aunt Tess! C’mere!” Her eyes bright, she pulled Tessa into the dimly lit room and stuffed the plastic bag into Tessa’s hand. “Don’t need this!” She practically sang the words. “I just got my period!” She threw her arms around Tessa. “Could I be any happier?”

She couldn’t answer as an old twist of envy spiraled through her. What must it be like to be happy to get your period?

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely! That’s why I ran out of the room, but judging by the screaming we got the recommendation.”

“Actually, we didn’t, but it’s even better news. Come on, let’s—”

“What’s going on, you two?” Lacey stood in the doorway, still holding Elijah. “Ashley, are you okay?”

“I’m great, Mom!”

“Ashley.” Tessa turned and gave her a harsh look. “You can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?” Lacey asked.

Ashley pushed her hair off her face, looking hard at her mother. “I thought I had a problem, Mom, but I don’t so you don’t even have to—”

“Ashley!” Tessa held up the bag. “You have to tell her everything.”

For a whole lot of heartbeats, Ashley stared at her mother, then nodded slowly. “The whole truth,” Tessa said.

“And nothing but,” she promised.

Lacey frowned, moving into the room. “I’m not liking the sound of this. What’s going on, honey?”

Ashley covered her mouth. “I really screwed up, Mom, but it’s okay. Honest, it’s okay.”

“Why don’t I take the baby,” Tessa offered. “Then you two can talk alone.”

“No, Aunt Tess. Stay.”

But Lacey handed over the baby anyway, dividing her attention between Tessa and Ashley. “I need to know what’s going on.”Ashley took a slow breath, glancing at Tessa, who just shook her head. “Um, Mom, I kind of had a pregnancy scare.”

Lacey’s jaw dropped and Tessa tightened her grip on the baby, so glad she’d taken him as Lacey’s reaction shook her. “What?”

“I had, you know, some symptoms.”

“And it sounds like you had, you know, some sex.” Lacey whipped around to Tessa. “Did you know this?”

“I knew that—”

“No, Mom. She did not know anything except I was dating…someone.” At Tessa’s look, she rolled her eyes. “Okay, Marcus. I was seeing Marcus. But I didn’t tell Aunt Tess I was…I swear I didn’t tell her. And she kept the secret about us because I begged her to.”

Lacey dragged her hand through her hair. “What made you think you were pregnant?”

“Hey! Where are you guys?” Zoe’s voice traveled in from the family room.

Lacey gave Tessa a gentle nudge. “Go, we’ll talk later.”

“Do you hate me?”

She angled her head and puffed out a breath. “As if. Let me talk to Ashley.”

Tessa patted the baby’s back and headed into the hall, cuddling Elijah as she paused to lean against the wall and let a wave of warm relief roll over her.

In the bedroom, she heard Ashley’s soft voice. “…couldn’t remember my last period and I was sick all the time, but not sick. And dizzy. Like, every time I stood up I got light-headed.”

Another wave hit, this one hard and hot and so, so stunning.

She knew those symptoms. She was living those symptoms right now.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, pressing her lips against Elijah’s peach fuzz. Her head felt like it was going to pop, and her whole body suddenly felt heavy and weak and dizzy.

She’d been light-headed for weeks—blaming the heartbreak, the sun, the sleepless nights of crying. Blaming everything but…

A baby.

She held tight to the one in her arms, her fingers still clutching the plastic bag Ashley had given her. Taking one steadying breath, she marched into the family room and handed Elijah to Jocelyn.

“I have to go.”

“Where? Why? We need to celebrate.”

Not quite yet. She had to be sure.

“I have to go,” she repeated. “Tell Lacey I’ll call her later.” She turned and tried not to run, gripping the bag, and barely hearing the questions in her wake.

December in Ottawa was a hell of a lot different from December in Barefoot Bay. Icy wind whipped down asphalt corridors, and barren trees rose naked from the snow-covered ground. To Ian, the world seemed colorless after the emeralds and turquoises of the Gulf Coast.

The only green was the oxidized copper roofs topping the government buildings, and the only blue was the bruise all over Ian’s heart.

For a while he’d been able to ignore that hollow feeling in his chest. He’d filled any emptiness by spending hours next to a hospital bed holding the tiny hand of a young man who was clearly born with a fighter’s spirit.

Witnessing Eddie—he didn’t even answer to Sam, so Ian gave up trying to call him that—survive his mysterious infection went a long way toward healing Ian’s own wounds. The little man not only charmed every nurse, doctor, and visitor in the process, he completely threaded his way right into the fabric of Ian’s heart. And his twin sister, far quieter and a little more terrified of life’s unexpected curveballs, had insisted on staying in the room with a menagerie of stuffed animals she kept in a small suitcase with the name Emma embroidered on it.

By the end of the hospital stay, Ian had given all the animals different talking voices and accents, learning quickly that wee Emma was far more at ease with a stuffed pig than a human being.

She barely spoke to the couple who’d had the children for the last year, which only confirmed Ian’s decision. They greatly favored Eddie, but his illness had taken its toll, and the couple—the third family the children had been placed with—had asked that Emma be sent on to yet another home.

Ian would die first, and that was why Henry had taken the extraordinary step of flying to Florida to reunite the family. The twins would never be separated, and they only had one more home to go to—Ian’s.

Assuming he made it through one last hoop this afternoon: the final Protected Persons review board stamp of approval. Three nameless faces were given the responsibility of granting Ian’s request for one more identity and supporting one more move to obscurity.

While that meeting dragged on in a basement office of Ottawa’s sprawling government complex, Ian leaned against a stone wall high over the city, but the expansive metropolitan view was lost on him. Every two minutes he turned to look at the door where Henry had disappeared nearly an hour ago.

With each sigh, a cloud of cold air puffed in front of his face, making him stuff his frozen hands deeper into his jacket pockets. What was taking so long?

Wasn’t this a technicality, a rubber stamp that blessed his new name, new location, and new life story? The N1L gang members that represented any real threat were behind bars, though as long as they were alive, Ian had to watch his back and keep his story a secret.

He would do that. He’d do anything to keep his children and make sure they were together. Anything—even leave the woman who made him feel whole, happy, and healed.

Another sigh escaped at the thought, interrupted by the vibration of his phone, which was wrapped in his chilled fingers. He yanked it out and stabbed the green button. “Yeah?”

“We have a problem, mate.”

Damn it. “What is it?”

“The answer’s no.”

A bright white light exploded in his heart. “No…what? Why?”

Henry sighed. “There’s a woman on the board.”

Like that explained it. “So?”

Henry paused long enough for Ian to sense that he wasn’t going to like the answer. “She’s transferred here from the Singapore operation.”

Was everything he did in Singapore going to haunt him? “Really.”

“Yeah, not a fan of yours. I tried, but the best we could do was let them agree that you could live somewhere in Canada, probably on the other side of the country, and visit.”

Visit? Fuck that. “I’m coming in.”

Before Henry could answer, Ian marched toward the door. Also, fuck the security and their trumped-up rules about review boards not having direct contact with program members. If some prejudiced, small-minded, idiot woman who read a negative report thought she could ruin his life, she was going to answer to him.

He shoved the heavy door open, instantly blasted by hot air and a scowl from a guard. Undeterred by the protective glass, metal detector, or the gun on the guy’s hip, Ian powered toward him.

“I need to see—”

“Me!” Henry barreled around the corner, still holding his phone. “I’ll clear him through,” he called to the guard.

Ian sailed through the metal detector and met Henry on the other side. “Don’t even try to stop me.”

“I warned them this might happen. She seemed to relish the opportunity to meet you.” Henry gestured for him to head down a flight of stairs into the chilly bowels of the building. “Last door on the left.”

“What’s her problem? The fact that I got in a fight in Singapore?”

“She’s hung up on stability. I told you it would have been better to wave a marriage certificate.”

Ian gave a derisive snort. That was one decision he did not regret in the least. “A fake, meaningless piece of paper that’s going to be annulled before this board convenes again? Why bother?”

“It makes them feel better,” Henry said, hustling to keep up with Ian’s long and furious strides. “They’re bureaucrats and you need to appeal to their love of red tape.” They stopped at a closed door. “Her name is Sarah Banks and she’s got an agenda. I don’t have any idea what it is.”