The Fugitive's Secret Child by Geri Krotow

Author:Geri Krotow [Krotow, Geri]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2018-01-31T15:48:03+00:00

Chapter 9

Trina watched her mother’s eyes grow round when she walked into the hallway to see what was taking Trina so long to come into the kitchen. No doubt Carmen Lopez had heard Rob’s deep voice, too.

“Mom, this is Rob Bristol. We work together.”

“Oh, well, hello, Rob.” She gave Trina a hug and kiss. “You okay? Nolan said...” She trailed off, probably not wanting to say too much. Having two children in the military and now both in government service positions had trained her to be careful with what she said. Trina couldn’t love her mother more than she did in this moment. Her mother was faced with Trina bringing home a strange man and yet didn’t play Twenty Questions with her. Carmen Lopez had trusted her children to make their own decisions since Trina was a girl. It was something Trina strived to instill in Jake—to know that his mom had faith in his judgment. Now it would be both her and Rob working together on this, and all facets of parenting.

Instead of the loss of control she thought she’d feel, she enjoyed a sense of calm and...relief. Rob would be a great dad and it was going to be a pleasure to coparent with him.

“It’s okay, Mom. Yes, I had to work an extra job, but it’s all okay now.”

Carmen looked at her daughter and nodded, then turned her attention to Rob.

“Are either of you hungry?”

“No, ma’am. I’m good.”

“I’m just getting Rob a glass of water. We’re dehydrated a bit. We’ve been out in the sun all day.” All three of them walked into the kitchen, and Trina motioned for Rob and her mother to sit with Jake at the battered farm table that was left by the previous owner. Even though she planned to seriously rehab the place with modern conveniences, she appreciated the more rustic touches, too. Trina knew the historical roots of all she did, including purchasing a dilapidated farmhouse that sat on three of the farm’s original two hundred acres. It had been in the same family for generations, since the Revolutionary War era, until the last had decided to let go of the farm. Roots were important to her; it was why she’d left the Navy, so that Jake would grow up close to his extended family, especially his grandparents.

“Mom, we made plants in camp today.” Jake spoke with crystal-clear certainty, his hair mussed from her hug and his cheeks rosy from the sun.

“You mean you potted plants?”

“Yes! We did cactuses and ivy.”

“Cacti and ivy. Did you put your sunscreen on?” She cracked open an ice tray and filled three glasses to the brim with cubes. Trina didn’t have to look to know Jake was rolling his eyes. So she was conscientious about grammar and the risk of skin cancer. Jake needed to see this side of parenting, too. The more practical, day-to-day parts that could wear her down, make her forget to relax and enjoy Jake. He’d only be five once.

“Moooom.

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