His Secret Child. BEVERLY BARTON
of the details. If he did, he might find out the truth she’d kept hidden from him for twelve years.
“God, that was some night, wasn’t it? I was leaving for the summer a week after graduation and I was really full of myself because I’d won a baseball scholarship.”
“Yeah, it was some night,” Sheila said. “But I’m afraid I can’t hang around and reminisce anymore. I’ve got to get home. Danny has practice. . .” She stopped talking midsentence, realizing that she shouldn’t be discussing her son with Caleb Bishop.
“Danny? Is that your son?” Caleb asked. “You named him after his father, huh?”
“Yes, Danny’s my son.” Sheila backed into the kitchen. “I hope you’ll be comfortable here. Enjoy your supper. And if you need anything, give me a call. I left my number on a pad by the phone.” She nodded toward the small table in the living room.
“I wish you could stay. I . . .” He’d been about to tell her that he was lonely and needed someone to talk to, to listen and understand. Someone even to fuss at him and argue with him. But Sheila had her own life. A child. A home. A business. She’d hardly have any time to waste on him. After all, what was he to her? Nothing more than her friend Tallie’s big brother.
Don’t give in to that sad, wounded, lost look in his eyes, Sheila told herself. Don’t involve yourself in Caleb’s life. If you do, you’ll just get hurt again. And this time, it won’t be only you who will suffer. It’ll be Danny, too.
“I’ve got to go,” she told him, but she lingered, drawn to him now, as she had been long ago.
He’d been a devastatingly handsome young man; some had even called him pretty. But Sheila had always thought Caleb was too masculine to be a pretty boy, despite his perfect features. He was, in some ways, better looking now since he had matured. He’d always been big, but the gangly form of his youth had disappeared and left in its stead a sturdy, muscular body that made a woman wonder what it would be like to be possessed by all that masculine power.
Caleb studied the woman in front of him. “Thanks for everything you did. Getting the old homestead ready for me. Airing out the place and bringing over my supper was nice of you.” He had always liked Sheila, had even thought of her a few times over the years. She’d always had a gentle strength he’d never known in any other woman. He didn’t think he’d ever known any other female, except his sister Tallie, whom he’d genuinely liked. Oh, he’d adored a lot of women, seduced more than his share, had even been head over heels in love a couple of times, but he didn’t think he’d liked any of those women. Not even Kim. She had been as big a phony as he’d been. Her whole world had revolved around herself, just the way his world had revolved around him.
“I have to go, Caleb.” Sheila realized that she needed to break eye contact with him, to end the spell his pleading gaze had cast over her.
“Yeah, I know. Go on. I’m fine. I’ll settle in, eat my supper and go to bed early.”
“Give Tallie a call and let her know you made it home okay.”
“You’d think she was my mother instead of my kid sister, the way she’s hovered over me since the accident.”
“She loves you, that’s why.”
For one brief moment Caleb thought he saw a flicker of some deep emotion on Sheila’s face. Surely after all these years, she didn’t still care about him. Twelve years ago she’d had a crush on him and despite the fact she hadn’t been his type back then, he’d been flattered by her shy adoration.
“I’ll see you around,” Sheila said, her voice steady and calm. “Take care of yourself.”
She made it to the back door before Caleb caught up with her. He grabbed her shoulder. She froze. He turned her slowly to face him. “To most of the people around here, I’m a local hero, and that’s going to make it difficult for me to fit in. I need a friend who isn’t intimidated by the fact that I was the star pitcher for the Atlanta Braves. I need you, Sheila.”
No, her mind screamed. Yes, her heart pleaded. “I’m sorry, Caleb. I can’t I . . .”
He massaged her shoulder, felt her shudder. Caleb wasn’t sure exactly why it was suddenly so important to him to renew his old friendship with Sheila, but it was. Maybe she reminded him of good times, of being very young and—Who was he kidding? He was a man who’d been without a woman for more than a year. He’d spent months in the hospital after the accident and not until recently had he been able to even dress himself. Sheila Hanley Vance might not be a beauty, but there was something about her that made him want to run his hands over her big, sturdy body, made him want to lift her onto the wooden table in the middle of the kitchen and slide between her legs.
Even if he hadn’t recognized her when he’d first seen her tonight, his body had remembered hers. She’d been a virgin that night twelve years ago, but she’d been eager and wild and as willing as any woman he’d ever taken.
There had been too many women in his life, especially when he’d been younger. He couldn’t even remember some of their names. But Sheila had been different. Different because he had genuinely liked her.
“Is there some man in your life who would object to our being friends?” he asked.
“I date occasionally,” she told him. “But I’m not involved with anyone right now.”
“Then why—”
“Because I don’t have room for you in my life, Caleb Bishop.” Pulling out of his grasp, she turned her back to him and opened the door. “I don’t have time to be the kind of friend you need. But there are dozens of women in Crooked Oak who’d be glad to be your friend.”
She walked out onto the back porch, but before she could close the door, Caleb grabbed her around the waist and twirled her so that she faced him. He jerked her up against him, circled the back of her neck with his big left hand and brought his mouth forcefully down on hers.
She tried to fight the urge to melt into him, to give herself over to his assault, but the effort failed. She responded to his brutal kiss with equal fury, opening her mouth to accept his thrusting tongue.
This mad dizziness was a unique sensation. Sheila hadn’t felt anything like it since the last time Caleb had kissed her. The night she had given him her virginity and her heart—and he had given her Danny.
Suddenly remembering her son—Caleb’s son, the child he didn’t know he had fathered—Sheila ended the kiss and shoved against Caleb’s chest
Cupping her hip, he pressed her into his arousal and groaned deep in his throat. “We were friends, even lovers for one night. There’s no reason why we couldn’t be again, since neither of us is attached.”
Pushing him away, Sheila glared at Caleb. Her heart wept for what could have been—and for what could never be. But she looked at him squarely, her eyes dry, her face void of emotion. Calmly and without anger, she said, “When you first walked into your old home a few minutes ago, you didn’t even recognize me. I doubt you’ve given me, our former friendship or our one-night stand a thought in twelve years. I’m not one of your beautiful, sophisticated women, Caleb. I’m a widow and a mother, living in a little town in Tennessee. I’m not in the market for a brief affair with the hometown hero.”
She turned and walked away, out into the yard and down the gravel road at the side of the house. Standing on the back porch, Caleb watched her until she was out of sight. With every soft, natural sway of her womanly hips, his whole body throbbed with need.
Sheila Hanley Vance had just put him in his place again. Something a woman hadn’t done in a long time. Actually not since Sheila had slapped his face the first time he’d kissed her. Women didn’t say no to Caleb Bishop, star athlete. Beautiful women, sexy women, rich women threw themselves at him on a regular basis. And now here he’d just been turned down by a big, rawboned, rather plain woman wearing a pair of faded overalls.
Despite the