Just Around The Corner. Tara Taylor Quinn
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“I’m pregnant.”
Matt blinked. He froze inside. “Pardon?”
“I’m pregnant.”
He waited.
“I just thought you should know.” Phyllis Langford looked far too calm sitting there, her honey-colored purse, which matched her honey-colored shoes, still slung over her shoulder.
“I don’t understand why I’m the one you’re telling,” he said carefully. He knew it wasn’t polite to ask a woman who the father of her child was, but what did a guy say when it wasn’t him? He might have lost a good piece of his mind that day, but not so much that he hadn’t protected himself, and her, from any and all consequences.
“Because you’re the only man I’ve had sex with since I divorced my husband four years ago.” As he shook his head, she added softly, “Condoms fail.”
“Not likely.”
“Read the box the next time you pick some up,” she said, still appearing far too calm. “Besides, when I thought about it, I realized the wrapper you took from your wallet didn’t look exactly new.”
Damn, the woman sounded as though they were discussing nothing more earth-shattering than a rained-out game of Little League. Didn’t she get it? They had an untenable situation on their hands.
Matt didn’t even know how to be a friend. There was no way he could be a father.
Dear Reader,
Have you ever found yourself disliked for something, some trait or skill, that’s an integral part of you? Something you can’t change? It’s not an easy position to be in, but a very real one. To be a person deserving of happiness—a good person, a loving person—and yet alone. It was a situation that intrigued me, a situation I couldn’t let go. I needed to know how such a thing could happen. To find the happy ending.
This is Phyllis Langford’s story. If you’ve read any of my previous SHELTER VALLEY books, you’ll remember her. Just Around the Corner is a story about the human spirit, about making the most of what life has given you, about enduring. And about happy endings. I believe there’s a happy ending out there for everyone. It’s just a matter of hanging on. Of not giving up. Eventually it will come knocking.
Each day of my life consists of hanging on, of not giving up—and of answering the door when I hear that knock. It doesn’t come just once. It comes, for me, every day in one form or another. A phone call. A smile. A note. A hug.
I wish you all a lifetime of happy endings—and the ability to hear happiness knocking at your door when it arrives.
Tara Taylor Quinn
P.S. I love to hear from readers. Write me at P.O. Box 15065, Scottsdale, Arizona 85267-5065. Or visit my Web site at http://members.home.net/ttquinn.
Just Around the Corner
Tara Taylor Quinn
For Tanya Elizabeth Clayton.
You, like Phyllis, are an amazing young woman.
I truly believe that you will take whatever life gives you and make your own happy endings.
I’m very proud to be part of your life.
MOTHER
by Tanya Clayton
Every time you tell me something
That may help me
I turn the other way.
My pride says I won’t listen
But my heart absorbs every word.
I always tell you I’ll be a better mother
But I know I won’t.
You have taught me lessons
That no one else could.
You have backed me up
When no one else would.
You have been my biggest fan
When everyone had given up.
You are my mother,
The person that I am part of
And the person I am proud of
Being part of every day.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
THE KISS WAS as powerful as he was. As dangerous.
And beckoning.
Her arms crept around his neck, her lips pressing against his as excitement uncoiled in her belly. This was insane.
And she didn’t want it to stop.
Phyllis had spent the entire day with Matt Sheffield. Seen him in action. And still knew absolutely nothing about him.
Because he wanted it that way.
Which made him even more desirable. Because she wanted it that way, too.
Dr. Phyllis Langford didn’t need a man in her life—especially this man. Didn’t need to know him, to get tangled up in the shadows she’d read in his eyes, the aloofness in his body.
What she needed was exactly what he was giving her. Lips that knew their destination, that didn’t hesitate. Hands that touched her lonely body, igniting fires banked too long.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she said, her mind still engaged enough to recognize that much.
“Mm-hmm.” The moan tingled against her lips. His tongue penetrated her mouth, and Phyllis thrilled to his aggression. He felt so damn good. And it had been such a long time…. He placed her against the theater’s sound-booth console in the performing-arts center at Montford University, where they’d spent the day working on a “Patterns of Abuse” presentation she’d be giving at a “Psychology In the University” seminar in that very theater later that month. The big window in front of them looked out over the dark and empty auditorium. The controls beneath them pushed into her back.
“Not here,” he said suddenly, pulling her up and urging her toward the couch at the opposite end of the room.
The couch she’d been eyeing off and on all day, her mind filled with lascivious thoughts.
She’d just never dreamed her inappropriate and completely far-fetched fantasies would ever achieve reality there.
Hadn’t really even decided she wanted them to.
His hands skimmed along her sides. Those same hands had been manipulating computer keys and technical equipment all afternoon. His