“Six weeks ago.” Her gaze flicked up to meet his, only to skitter away again. “This is not going at all how I intended.”
She exhaled and looked weary as she pushed a racing schedule off the seat of a hard-backed chair and sat down. “Go to California, Jake. Your family needs you. We’ll talk when you get back.”
She hadn’t agreed to stay beyond that, but for the moment, he’d take what he could get.
When he got back, there’d be plenty of time.
Chapter Three
The last thing J.D. expected to see were two brown-haired heads sticking up over the side of her pickup bed when she came out of the Chinese restaurant. The brown paper bag of take-out she held slid right out of her nerveless fingers, landing with a plop on the pavement next to her feet.
It was Friday evening at the end of a very long, miserable week; she’d just spent over an hour fighting rush-hour traffic into the city, and the only thing she’d been looking forward to was a meal that required no work, and then bed. Maybe not even in that order.
“Zach. Connor.” Her voice was excruciatingly pleasant, as if she greeted Jake’s twin sons in the back of her pickup truck every day of the week. “What are you doing?”
“Going for a ride,” Zach replied with a “duh” sort of tone.
“That wasn’t very bright of you when you had no way of knowing where I was going.”
“You’re going home,” Zach returned just as quickly. “Arentcha?”
J.D.’s lips tightened a little. Jake had brought his sons back with him less than a week ago, and in that space of time, they’d managed to cause all manner of mischief around the place—from painting the legs of one of Miguel’s favorite broodmares fluorescent pink, to parachuting out of their upstairs bedroom using bedsheets.
It was a testament to their true creativity that they hadn’t managed to break their legs in that particular endeavor.
This, however, was the first time they’d directly involved J.D. in one of their stunts.
“Does it look like I live here?” She gestured at the busy little restaurant behind her where she’d just retrieved the food that was now sitting on the ground.
Connor frowned a little. “She’s not home,” he whispered to his brother. “And I gotta pee.”
“You always gotta pee,” Zach muttered. He sat up on his knees and folded his arms over the side of the truck, looking at J.D. with vivid curiosity. The hot, humid evening had caused messy tendrils of his brown hair to stick to his rosy cheeks. “I told Connor that you wouldn’t know we was back here, and I was right.”
A roadster waiting for her parking spot tooted its horn, and J.D. absently waved it on. “I have to call your father.”
Zach rolled his eyes. “Jake won’t care. He knows you’ll take us back.”
“Oh? Why are you so sure of that?”
“’Cause he said you always do what’s right.”
Her jaw tightened so much that it hurt. “Does he?” She wasn’t entirely certain how Jake would have come to that conclusion. “Get out,” she ordered, and watched while they scrambled out of the truck bed.
She felt like an idiot for not having noticed them back there before now, and supposed it was a measure of her preoccupation that she hadn’t.
The two boys came to a stop next to her.
Connor stooped to pick up the bag of food and peered inside. “I bet they’re fixing dinner by now.” He held the bag toward J.D. with a slightly more sheepish look on his face than the one on his brother’s. “You’re lucky it didn’t all spill out,” he told her. “Are those egg rolls?”
She ignored his hopeful look and took the bag from him before yanking open the truck door. “Yes. Get in.”
She waited until the boys were inside, then set the bag on her seat while she dragged out her cell phone and the business card that he’d given her. But all she got was his voice mail. She left a message, but then also dialed the house at Forrest’s Crossing.
Despite the hour, it was Mabel who answered. “I’m sorry, Ms. Clay,” Mabel told her in the same stiff voice she’d used two weeks earlier when J.D. had refused to tell the woman exactly why she’d needed to meet with him, “but Mr. Forrest isn’t available for calls.”
J.D. turned her back on the boys, only to turn around again just as quickly to keep her eyes on them. For all she knew, they’d decide to go joyriding in another person’s vehicle. “He hasn’t left town again, has he?” She’d have heard so from Toby, the new groom, who seemed to take great delight in following the activities of their wealthy boss.
“No, he’s in town.”
“Then this is a call he might want to take,” she advised flatly. “Regarding his sons.”
“Perhaps you misunderstood. Mr. Forrest is not available.”
Her hands tightened around the phone. “Mr. Forrest’s sons are with me in the city,” she returned through her teeth. “They were hiding in the back of my truck. Somehow, I think he’s going to want to know that, Mabel. Just in case he gets to wondering where they are when they don’t sit down at the dinner table!”
“Good heavens.” The woman’s tight voice softened a fraction. “But I’m afraid he really isn’t here. He ran out to the plant a few hours ago.”
J.D. pressed her fingertip to the pain that began throbbing between her eyebrows.
The two boys were sitting in the truck watching her with wide eyes and listening with wider ears. She pulled out the container of crispy, fat egg rolls and handed them to Connor, along with the napkins.
Then she turned away from the children and lowered her voice. “In that case, you’d better tell his aunt.” Someone had to care where these boys were. “It’s the middle of rush hour. It’s going to take me more than an hour to drive them back home again.”
“I’ll be sure to tell her right away. The twins were really hiding in your car? This is going to upset Mr. Forrest,” the woman fretted.
Considering it was the twins’ first week at Forrest’s Crossing, J.D. privately thought Jake might have been wise to forgo matters at Forco for a few more days. Forrest’s Crossing might have been a little safer.
Instead, the very day he’d arrived with them, she knew he’d left town that night and hadn’t returned until just a few days ago.
Even though she knew she should, she hadn’t found a moment to speak with him privately again.
“I’m leaving the city right now,” she said. Then caught the way Connor was wriggling in his seat. “Well, after a quick pit stop, anyway.” She didn’t wait for some response from Jake’s personal secretary, but ended the call and tossed the phone onto the dashboard.
Then she waved the boys out of the truck. “Come on. You can hit the bathroom inside.” She locked up the truck after them and followed them back into the busy restaurant, pointing the way to the restrooms down a narrow hallway.
They came out within minutes, craning their necks around as if to take in every inch of the busy, congested little restaurant. The hunger in Connor’s expression