The Soldier's Forever Family. GINA WILKINS

As I told you then, I wasn’t looking for anything more, either. I figured the way you left proved you hadn’t changed your mind.”

      He had the grace to wince at the reminder of the way he’d slipped out. “I had an early flight that day, and it seemed easier to skip goodbyes. Of course, I had no idea—”

      She shook her head. “I’m not asking for an apology. You were never anything but honest with me. I was just as happy to avoid any awkwardness.”

      Which was true, for the most part. Once she’d gotten past the disappointment of waking to find him gone, thinking she would never see him again, she’d decided he’d chosen exactly the right way to end things. The brief affair had been spontaneous, hot and fun, and it wouldn’t have felt right to wrap it up with a perfunctory hug or a bittersweet kiss. She’d told herself she didn’t regret a thing, that their time together would be a memory she would privately cherish for years to come.

      Then she’d realized she was pregnant, and she’d known the memories wouldn’t be so easy to tuck away.

      “I wasn’t apologizing,” Adam said curtly. “Did you really want me to leave with a handshake?”

      She was taken aback by how closely his words echoed her own thoughts.

      Their gazes held for several long moments. Was he replaying some of the same memories that had crept out of the past to haunt her now? Was he hearing sounds of quiet laughs and soft moans, of hungry kisses and exultant gasps? How many times had she woken in the middle of the night after dreams filled with the rush of the ocean and the touch of his hands?

      Those rare but vivid dreams had taken her by surprise each time. She’d have sworn she’d long since put the weekend behind her. But then again, she lived with a daily reminder of her days and nights with Adam, so it was only natural she’d have thoughts of him from time to time. Right?

      Swallowing hard, she rose to her feet. She craved a few moments to herself, just a chance to clear her thoughts, to lock away the memories again. “I need a glass of water. Can I get you anything?”

      He looked as though he were going to decline, but then seemed to change his mind. “Yeah, water sounds good. Thanks.”

      She doubted he was any thirstier than she was, but maybe he, too, thought it a good idea to change the tone of this conversation. To focus on what needed to be their priority.

      Their son.

      * * *

      TOO RESTLESS TO SIT, Adam stood when Joanna did, then turned to lean against the railing and gaze moodily out at the view. The suites were arranged to maximize privacy with palmettos and flowering trees between the balconies. Vacationers milled on the beach in the distance. A young couple strolled hand in hand through the courtyard below, seemingly oblivious to anyone around them.

      He vaguely remembered what that felt like.

      Absorbed in their own pursuits, no one looked his way. And even if they did glance up, they couldn’t know that his entire life had changed since he’d set out for a jog that morning.

      He had a son.

      Despite Trevor’s warnings, Adam had little doubt the boy was his. He suspected DNA tests would merely confirm his gut instinct, though he wouldn’t object to the formality. He still found it hard to believe Joanna had deliberately sought him out now for any of the reasons Trevor had implied—for any reason, actually. In fact, she seemed poised to run, taking her—taking their—son without a goodbye. He could hardly blame her for that impulse, considering.

      She’d claimed to be unable to locate him. Obviously she hadn’t tried very hard. He wouldn’t make the same mistake if she were the one to vanish now. They had some things to settle before going their separate ways again. He just wished he knew what the hell he was supposed to do next.

      A sound from behind him made him turn to find her approaching with a glass of ice water in each hand. She set the glasses on the table, then wiped her palms on her dress, drawing his gaze. She had great legs, long and shapely. He remembered with unexpected clarity exactly how they’d felt wrapped around him. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight, giving her a curt nod. “Thanks.”

      Any nervousness that might have been present in her expression earlier was hidden now behind a look of determination. Obviously she’d used the brief time inside to reinforce her defenses. It bothered him that she’d felt it necessary to do so.

      “You’re angry with me,” she said.

      “No.” His response was automatic.

      She held her ground. “Yes.”

      He sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. “Okay, yeah. Maybe a bit.”

      “You think I could have tried harder to find you.”

      He met her eyes. “Yes.”

      Her mouth tightened, but she continued. “Even considering the way you left? No phone number. Not even a note.”

      Despite the truth of her words, he refused to be placed on the defensive. “I’ve already told you my reason for that.” Part of the reason, anyway. “But you had to have known everything changed with the pregnancy.”

      “Everything certainly changed for me,” she said in a strained whisper, looking away. Her right hand went to her stomach, as if in subconscious memory, and he found his mind filled with images of her swollen with pregnancy. His throat tightened painfully.

      “I was six weeks along before I realized I was pregnant, or at least before I admitted it to myself,” she said, her hand falling to her side. “You’d made no effort to contact me, so I assumed you’d moved on with your plans, whatever they were. As I said, I did try to reach you through the resort, but I couldn’t get anywhere. Adam Scott is not an uncommon name. I didn’t even know what state you lived in.”

      He grimaced. “I was in Afghanistan.”

      Her eyes widened. “Afghanistan? You were in the military?”

      “Army.”

      She moistened her lips, drawing his attention to her soft mouth. “I wondered at the time if you’d served a tour. There was something about your haircut and the way you carried yourself. But you didn’t seem to want to talk about it, so I didn’t push. I had no idea you were on your way overseas.”

      He shrugged. “It was my second deployment. And you’re right, I didn’t want to discuss it. The whole point of taking that vacation was to get away from military talk for a few days.”

      He’d relished the few days of luxury and relaxation, but he hadn’t been overly concerned about his upcoming assignment. He’d been aware of the dangers he would face, of course, and had considered himself rather noble for leaving no one to worry about his safety. Still, he’d fully expected to return as relatively unscathed as he had from his first, far-less-traumatic mission. Remembering that almost cocky naïveté now made him grimace, though fortunately Joanna didn’t seem to notice.

      “How long were you deployed?”

      “Ten months.” He didn’t add that it had been a twelve-month tour cut short by an explosive device.

      “Which would have made it even harder for me to contact you,” she pointed out.

      “It would have been possible,” he muttered. He’d had the right to know about his child, even though he had no clue how he’d have reacted. “Five years, Joanna. Five years I’ve had a son I didn’t know about.”

      Her eyes glittered, and the sight of her tears punched him in the gut. His throat ached with the emotions he was choking down. Pain and regret hovered between them as they stood there, gazes locked, both struggling for words.

      His phone beeped with a text, shattering the tense moment. The sudden sound startled them both. Unsure whether he was more annoyed or grateful for the interruption, he glanced down at the screen and cursed softly. “There’s something I