I Can Love You Page 11

The ringing telephone roused Tara from her nap. She checked the time, noting that she had slept the entire afternoon. She was choosing sleep to avoid the thoughts that had been running through her mind since leaving Marcus’s home earlier that morning.

  She lifted her cell from the bed to accept the call and paused before saying anything.

  “Tara?” a rich baritone asked.

  “Uh, who’s calling?”

  “It’s me . . . Marcus.”

  She raised herself in the bed and turned the television volume down. “Hey, Marc.”

  “Did I catch you at a good time?”

  “I was just napping. I didn’t expect to sleep all afternoon,” Tara replied.

  “May I come up to see you?”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m in the lobby.”

  “Yes. Of course.” Tara gave him her suite number, and he was at her door in minutes.

  Tara walked into the next room, where the agent assigned to her was questioning Marcus about his reason for being there. “It’s okay, Joe. I invited him.”

  The older man didn’t let Marcus’s height intimidate him as he looked up to eye Marcus before stepping aside to allow her guest room to enter the suite.

  “Can you please give us some privacy?” Tara asked.

  Joe gave her a curt nod and turned to size up Marcus. “I’ll be right outside this door, Miss Russell.”

  Together they watched the overzealous man exit.

  “Please, have a seat. I was just about to order some food from room service. Care to join me? This place has good food,” she said, flipping through a menu on a table in the dining area.

  “If you like, I can take you out for a bite.”

  She looked at the man across from her with his hands jammed into his coat pockets. Behind the tense expression, she recognized the guy she fell for but knew whatever she felt after all the years was one-sided. “I’m trying to keep a low profile, and since I’m not familiar with this area, I probably shouldn’t.”

  “For someone as concerned as you say now, you have an odd way of showing it. You appear on people’s doorsteps alone. You travel without security and—”

  “Leave my life along with any choices I’ve made alone, and as for showing up on people’s doorsteps, why are you here?”

  “I know your pattern and history tells me you’re gearing up for another disappearing act.”

  “I’m not leaving until I see my son.”

  “Now, Tara, that’s pretty complicated.”

  “He knows I’m his mother, doesn’t he?” she asked firmly, fearful of what Marcus would say.

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  “Why doesn’t he? What lies have you been feeding him?”

  “Lies? Lies? Tara, do you hear yourself?” he asked in disbelief, his face showing disgust. “From the day you stepped into my life, you have fed me nothing but lies.”

  “That’s unfair, and you know it.”

  “Is it really?” he asked. With one thick eyebrow raised, he lowered his voice and cocked his head to the side. “You didn’t even want to stick around the hospital to make sure he made it safely past delivery. Does that sound like mother of the year to you?”

  Tara raised her hand to slap him, but this time his quick reflexes blocked it. Frustrated, she yelled, “Get out! Get out now!”

  “And then what?”

  The door swung open with Joe moving into the suite with a hand on the weapon attached to his side. “Everything all right, Miss Russell?”

  Marcus ignored the menacing scowl cast his way. “You said you wanted to see him. I’m here to find out if that’s possible.”

  Tara looked between Marcus and the agent. “We’re fine, Joe.”

  “She said she’s fine, now leave,” Marcus said, but the agent remained.

  “Joe.” Tara’s firm voice steered the man back to his post outside her door. “What do you mean if it’s possible? Don’t try to intimidate me, Marcus Grant. You don’t know who you are messing with,” she warned.

  “Oh, that is where I beg to differ,” he replied casually, his voice and faced both displaying the confidence of someone who knew he has the upper hand. “I’m Aaron’s father, the only person who has ever been in his life. I know you have worked hard to maintain this squeaky-clean image of yourself, and I surely doubt that you’re willing to throw it all away just like that. It is what you wanted.”

  “Then you don’t know me as well as you think. If you did, you would know that I would do anything for the people I love, and I have never stopped loving my son. Now that I know where he is, I will let no one get in my way of expressing that to him,” she said, jabbing her index finger into his chest.

  Marcus took a deep breath and raised both hands in surrender. “Tara, I’m not here to fight with you,” he assured her, relaxing his stance and folding his arms across his chest. “I love him very much, too, and I don’t want to see him get hurt.”

  Her ready-for-a-fight posture now gone, she said, “I would never hurt him.”

  “Then tell me, why are you here? The real reason, Tara.” Marcus’s tone had become gentler.

  Tara sat on an oversized floral loveseat, turning off the television before speaking. “Ever since the day I had him, I’ve been wondering if I did the right thing. It hurt knowing I had allowed others to think for me, to push me into giving my child away. Until you told me, I had no idea if I had given birth to a boy or a girl. I wanted to know, but every search turned up nothing. I just wanted a silent nod, some sort of proof that my baby was being taken care of by someone who loved him. I wasn’t trying to disrupt anyone’s life.”

  “How can you sit there and lie to me, Tara? You showed up at my door looking for him. Mia even said you were coming to find him.”

  “Marc, I had no idea you were raising him. Every day, I’m learning that everyone was in on the big secret except me.”

  Marcus sat in a chair across from her. “After getting Aaron, I heard nothing from you or your family for years. Then out of the blue, Timothy shows up.”

  “He did?”

  Marcus nodded.

  “I followed the address my father left, hoping it would lead me to a chance for forgiveness. I had no idea it would lead me to you and my son.”

  “Your father made me realize how much he loved you. I didn’t expect his apology, and honestly, I’m still baffled by it.”

  Her cell phone rang, and she looked at the screen to see who was calling.

  Marcus motioned for her to accept the call. “You go ahead and get that. I promised the sitter I wouldn’t be long.”

  “I’ll call him back,” she said, sending Quinton to her voicemail.

  “How about joining us for dinner tomorrow? You can meet Aaron then.”

  “Are you sure? I’d love to.”

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I want to wait before telling him about you. That is until we figure out some way to break the news. In the meantime, I have no problem with you having the chance to get to know him.”

  Tears flowed down her face, and she attempted to smile while swiping them away. “Thank you, Marcus.”

  Marcus nodded and let himself out.

  An alert chimed from her phone, letting her know Quinton had left a message. Instead of retrieving it, she returned the missed call.

  “Hey, Quinton. You will not believe this, but tomorrow I get to meet my son!”

  * * *

  “What time is it?” Tara asked her bedmate, which was the cell phone propped on the pillow beside her.

  The virtual assistant voice replied, “It’s 12:39 a.m.”

  She sighed and turned off the television. Joe’s shift ended a few hours ago, and one of the other agents took his place. If they could interact with her, she’d invite them in to do something. Anything. They had to know how to play cards or some other activity to pass the time, but she didn’t want to get anyone in trouble. Their superiors only wanted them to shadow, investigate, and protect her.

&n
bsp; Tara grabbed her phone, deciding to check her public and fake social media profiles. As far as she knew, no one figured out the alias she used to take part in the same online activities her fans used.

  She scrolled and scrolled, slowing only to stop and double tap on photos that stood out. One of her dedicated fans shared a video clip the day before, a “throwback” video featuring Tara and Quinton. The image of herself falling into the arms of a lover synced with “Never Again.” The sexy music video depicted a couple falling in and out of love, and the scene before her showed them expressing that love on a bed of rose petals as the hook for one of the biggest hits of her career played. Tara poised in a barely there dress with her lover Quinton beneath her. His legs parted with her bare ones nestled between them, taking her back to the night they filmed the scenes in which she stroked his angular jawline, and in return, he brushed his lips against the rise of her breasts. She giggled frequently, causing multiple retakes until Quinton told the camera crew to let it roll. They’d film and edit later.

  Tara remembered the steps involved in this video shoot and the long hours it took for each scene. Each shot had to be perfect for her, at least that’s what Quinton told the crew. Her best friend who worked as the director later cut and spliced footage that had everyone talking. However, through the camera lens, an understated passion was evident between the couple.

  Tara watched as if it were her first time seeing it. They looked perfect together, their eyes sparkling every time they were close. It all seemed so right, so genuine.

  “Remind me to work with Quinton on a video treatment,” Tara instructed her phone.

  The voice responded, “FaceTime call to Quinton.”

  “Crap!” Tara popped up and tried to stop the phone from dialing, but it was too late.

  “I knew you’d be up.” Quinton appeared on the screen. He was sitting up in bed against his pillows. The silk pajama shirt he wore unbuttoned, and she noticed the bandages wrapped around half of his chest.

  “I’m so sorry. I dialed you by mistake.”

  “I know you’re nervous, but get some sleep.”

  “What makes you think I’m awake worrying?”

  “Because you are and looking at you confirms it. He will love you. How’s my song coming?”

  “I can’t hear it yet.”

  “You will soon.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Experience taught me.” He chuckled softly.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Take you, for example. I always hear something when we kick it. I hear you in ways that make me wanna lay the essence of you down and drop it over a tight beat. I always find myself creating a track every time I see you.”

  Tara drew in a deep breath, absently dragging her lower lip between her teeth. “Umm, Quinton.”

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “Goodnight… And thank you.”

  He smiled. “Night, Blue.”

  She ended their call and put her phone away before shutting off the lights in her room to concentrate on falling asleep.

  * * *

  For the second time in three days, Tara walked up the cobblestone path leading to Marcus’s home. This time, the apprehension she’d felt Thanksgiving Day displaced by expectant nervousness. Standing at the home’s massive double oak doors, Tara took several deep breaths. This is as relaxed as I will get, she told herself, squaring her shoulders and putting on a bright smile. She rang the doorbell and took a step back, saying aloud to herself, “It’s showtime.”

  A pint-sized replica of Marc opened the door. With him was a young child with her hair styled in two adorable puffs. The children smiled at her.

  The young boy tried to move the little girl aside to welcome the visitor into his home, but the girl fixed her eyes on the gift bag Tara was holding, and she would not budge.

  So Aaron forged ahead, merely saying, “Hello.”

  “Hello, sweetheart. You must be Aaron,” Tara said, smiling warmly in awe of the vision before her.

  Taking all of him in, she started to notice her genes within him by the shape of his straight nose, the Russell family ears, and the slight dimpling in his chin. Smiling to herself, she admired the result from her union with Marcus. Stopping herself from running her hand over the soft dark brown curls on top of his head, hoping to touch him to see if he was real, she pulled back, not wanting to frighten Aaron.

  “Yes, I am, and this brat standing next to me is Brittany,” he said, motioning for the girl to move behind him.

  With a child’s natural curiosity, Brittany stood on tiptoe, trying to peek inside the bag.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Aaron and Brittany,” Tara said, her gaze lingering on her son’s incredible big brown eyes.

  She stood straight when she heard approaching footsteps. “Where are your manners, Aaron? Aren’t you going to invite our guest inside?” Marcus asked.

  Aaron politely asked her in, taking her coat once she entered. Rubbing his hands together nervously, Marcus watched the interaction from a few feet away. As for Tara, she was trying to process having both her child and the man who gave him to her standing right in front of her after all these years.

  “Any problems getting here?” Marcus asked.

  “No, none at all.” She smiled, following Marcus and the children into the living room.

  Marcus wore a classic white dress shirt and blue jeans, giving Tara a glimpse of the body she had spent ten years without.

  He invited her to have a seat and left to fetch a tray of hors d’oeuvres from the kitchen.

  Aaron gasped when he saw Tara in the light of the living room without her knit hat and coat. She blushed when the young boy clamped a hand to his mouth. When he recovered from the shock, he exclaimed, “Do you know who you are?”

  Marcus returned, setting the tray on the coffee table and answered his son’s question. “Aaron, this is my friend Miss Tara Russell. She’s in town visiting, and I asked her to come by to meet you.”

  “Wow!” he said, obviously the enthusiastic response of a fan.

  Brittany, however, was eager to talk to the woman who was bearing gifts, telling Tara, “I’m four years old.”

  Tara answered, amazed. “And you’re so smart and adorable, too.”

  “What’s in your bag?” Brittany asked, intent on seeing if there was something in the bag for her.

  Overhearing the child, a woman called out from the open, gourmet kitchen adjacent to the family room, “Brittany Pearson, that was not polite!”

  “I’m sorry, Mommy,” Brittany said contritely. But she bounced back, telling Tara, “My mommy is cooking in the kitchen. She works in a restaurant where she cooks all the time, but today Mommy said it was slow, so she came over to help Aaron’s daddy cook.” On a roll, Brittany kept going. “Where do you live? We live outside in a little house by the pool. We help take care of Aaron and his daddy, cause he’s not a good cook, and he makes big messes and—”

  Marcus swooped the child up with one quick move, pretending to shush her. In a stage whisper, he said, “Brit, I thought my mess was our little secret.”

  “It is, but Mommy said we shouldn’t keep secrets, because—”

  “Brittany!” Hillary said, giving her daughter a look of disapproval only a mother can provide. Hillary walked around the kitchen island to join them. Smiling, she extended her hand, saying, “Hello, Tara, I’m Hillary. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Same,” Tara said, recognizing Hillary’s attractiveness. Tara looked to Marcus and back at Hillary. She shook the woman’s hand and swallowed back the pain of meeting the woman who was now in the place she ran away from. “It smells incredible in here.”

  “As soon as I finish cooking, Brittany and I will be out of your hair. We were running late getting started.”

  “No rush. I don’t want to run anyone off,” Tara said, looking to Marcus again.

  Hillary pointed over her shoulder. “It’s okay. We have a movie to catch with Steve tonight. I’m g
oing back in there, so this one,” she said, gesturing to Marcus, “doesn’t have to order a pizza.”

  Marcus stepped forward, laughing, and pointed at a chair for Tara. “Have a seat.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I left my phone upstairs and have a call coming in at any minute.”

  Tara nodded and turned her attention to Aaron and Brittany, who were sitting nearby watching her intently.

  Alone with the kids, Tara joined them on the floor, bringing the bag with her. Looking inside, she wished she had known that another child would be present.

  “I don’t know if you have this already, but they told me at the store that it is the hottest gaming system out there,” Tara told Aaron, who happily accepted the gift. She was thankful Quinton had suggested the electronic gizmo after she had insisted she couldn’t walk into the house empty-handed. A call to the right person secured one of the few left in the area. Marcus came back into the room just in time to hear Aaron thanking Tara.

  Tara suddenly jumped up. “Oh, no. I left the wine inside the car.”

  Marcus walked over to her and, speaking out of the corner of his mouth, said, “You shouldn’t have bought him that toy, but thank you, anyway. I’ll run out to your car and get that wine for you. Where are your keys?”

  She passed him her key ring, and after Marcus left, Tara saw the woeful expression on Brittany’s face.

  “I believe I know why you’re sad. You think I forgot to give you a present.” The little girl nodded. “Well, I was saving this gift for a special little princess, and I didn’t want it to get lost in the bag, so I wore it just for safekeeping.”

  Tara unhooked the clasp on a necklace made of multicolored stones she had purchased in the Caribbean and placed the necklace around Brittany’s small neck. She explained where she had bought it and made up a little story to make the gift seem even more special.

  Brittany fingered the stones and smiled with her eyes.

  She said, “Thank you,” and ran over to her mother. “Look, Mommy.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Hillary told Tara. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I was glad to; she’s a cutie,” Tara replied, taking this time to study Hillary. Prepared to be jealous of the woman who was part of Aaron and Marcus’s life, she instead found herself instantly warming up to her.