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She jolted and a fire ignited between her legs. Just a little peck and, oh God, she wanted more.

“Good night, Kath.”

“Good night.”

She floated inside.

Chapter Seven

The phone clattered on the ceramic tile kitchen floor.

“Kath?” Brett’s voice haunted her from the other room. “You all right in there?”

Brett! What timing this Michael had. But she had to speak to him. Had to find out if he were truly the little boy she had given away all those years ago.

She willed her throat to relax, her voice to steady. “I’m fine. I have to take this call. I’ll just be a minute.”

Her shaky hand retrieved the phone.

“I’m sorry,” she said into the mouthpiece. “You took me by surprise.”

She walked from the kitchen past Brett, waving at him and mouthing “a patient,” stumbled into her bedroom, and shut the door behind her.

“All right, Mr. Patton.”

“Call me Michael.”

“Of course. Call me Kathryn.”

“I got your name from the agency. The records said that once I was eighteen, if I wanted to contact you, I could. I did a little research and found your married name. It was just a stroke of luck that you’re still living in the same city.”

“When’s your birthday?”

“January fourth.”

Right date. Holy shit. “All right.” Her stomach burned. Her son. Her beautiful, precious son.

Brett’s son.

Lord, she had to tell him.

If she wanted to start a relationship with him, she had to tell him anyway. A relationship built on a lie was no relationship at all. She’d hoped for a little more time. A little more to get used to the idea, to get him used to the idea…

“I know this is coming out of nowhere for you,” Michael said, “but I really do want to meet you. And I have a question to ask you.”

“What?”

“Well, the adoption papers don’t specify who my father was.”

“No.” She hadn’t written it down. Hadn’t wanted Brett to ever know. Had wanted him to play baseball, to have the life he deserved.

“You…do know who he was, right?”

“Yes. He was…is…a fine man.”

“Oh, good. I just didn’t want to be the product of a rape or anything.”

“Oh no. Nothing like that. I loved your father. I was just young, and he was…engaged to someone else.”


Tags: Helen Hardt Erotic