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Authors: RG Alexander

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“What did he say?”

“He was waiting for you to tell him you wanted more, that you were ready for more.”
Seamus frowned at her. “You never did.”

What was he saying? “Did
he
? Want more?”

“Jesus H, my hand to God, you two deserve each other. Did he want more? You know what
kind of man Stephen is, and he sure as hell isn’t the type to have a sixteen year
affair with someone just for the hell of it.”

“It wasn’t an affair,” she insisted weakly.

Seamus glared. “In all that time did he ever have another relationship? No. Sex, sure,
but no love. He just focused on his job and waited for the next time you got an itch.”

Tasha shook her head. “I don’t think you understood him. Stephen wasn’t waiting for
me.” It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. “He knows we wouldn’t have worked together. I’d
have hurt his career. I still would. I’m not right for him.”

“He sounded depressed,” Seamus continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “He’s my twin,
and I know him better than anyone. He represses his emotions, buttons another button
and soldiers on. He doesn’t get sloppy drunk. He doesn’t rage and break things, and
he’s never depressed. But he said this time he’d thought you were finally ready. That
you were both in the right place and he knew what you wanted. And then you just walked
out. Again.”

“Seamus, you don’t know the whole story.”

“No, I don’t. And he’s stopped calling now. Every time I try to reach him, his assistant
insists he’s in an important meeting. He’s always in a meeting. Owen drove to his
office this morning to tell him about Dad, and he said the place was swarming with
men in dark suits that looked like feds.”

Tasha’s heart raced. She was desperate to know what was going on. Did they finally
get what they needed to put Burke away? Maybe she could talk to Brady before she left,
to see if he could find out.

“I’m sure it will all be fine.”

He scowled. “Well, good for you because I’m not. But then I’m not sure about anything
right now, including that Tanaka.”

Ken? “What are you talking about?”

“This week I got a call from a man named Ken Tanaka. He says he’s working with my
cousin Brady. Says they found Mira and he’s sending over a lawyer to get Sean’s adoption
pushed through.”

Tasha gasped. “But that’s great news, Seamus. You’ve been spending money you didn’t
have for years trying to find her.”

He nodded sharply. “I have, but this guy apparently found her in a few days. When
I called Brady to find out what the hell was going on, he just told me to thank you
the next time I saw you. That Tanaka is your friend and he did it as a favor for you.
What the hell, Tasha? Are you trying to make up for breaking my brother’s heart or
is there more going on than anyone is willing to tell me?”

She looked around nervously, hating that she felt the need to. The old Tasha would
have kicked Burke’s ass. She wouldn’t have cared if he’d threatened to plaster naked
pictures of her on every billboard in the state.

But she had to think about Stephen’s future. She had to think about the baby.

She owed Ken big for Seamus, at least. That was one threat the bastard would no longer
be able to hold over them.

“I’m glad about the lawyer. As for Stephen, I can’t talk about it, but I swear I didn’t
leave to hurt him. I left because it was the only thing I could do.”

Some of the heat left his expression. “Moving away isn’t the answer. You can’t run
from your life, Tasha. It always finds you.”

“Seamus…”

“Where are you going?”

“Seattle.”

“So far? I wish you’d tell me what’s going on.”

She shook her head, looking away from the man who looked so much like her lover. “Can
I ask you a favor?”

“What kind of favor?”

“Take care of him? Bring the kids over with crayons and paint and make a mess. Cook
in his kitchen. Buy him jeans for Christmas.”

“Damn it, Natasha, jeans aren’t going to fix it. He needs you.”

And she needed him. “Please, Seamus.”

As she drove away, she was thinking about the Finns. They’d be fine without her. They
were a close family, all of them survivors. Ellen would get Shawn to take care of
himself. Jen would find her way and Owen would keep Jeremy so happy he’d hardly notice
she was gone.

A month ago she would have stuck it out, bided her time and waited for the feds to
get their evidence, but she couldn’t now. The baby changed everything.

Baby Finn.

She’d never even considered it before. Being a mother. She was wild Natasha Rivera,
sexual deviant and decadent baker. She did whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted
to. Now she was going to be someone’s mother. Someone was going to need her to guide
them. Teach them.

Someone was going to need her.

When she found out, her first—and second and third—inclination was to tell Stephen.
He would want to know. Want to be a part of the child’s life. But she couldn’t. Not
with Burke’s threat hanging over her head. Even if it wasn’t, their relationship was
too uncertain. Stephen may seem heartbroken to Seamus, but he’d never told her that
he wanted to keep going after their “mission.”  That he wasn’t happy with the status
quo.

He was waiting for you to tell him you wanted more, that you were ready for more.

She hadn’t been. Not until that party. Not until she’d had to face the truth about
her feelings for him.

And now it was too late.

She wasn’t her mother. She wouldn’t hold a man’s heart hostage with a child. She loved
him too much to put that kind of pressure on him.

Tasha reached up and touched the emerald heart around her neck. She hadn’t taken it
off and, if she had her way, she never would. It would be a memory, an acknowledgment
that the baby was conceived in love. Something that could be passed down.

If someone had told her two months ago she’d be in this situation, she would have
laughed. Now all she wanted to do was cry.

 

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

This was a bad dream that wouldn’t end.

Tasha looked out the window at the throng of reporters and photographers who had been
camped out in front of her apartment building for the last three days. Ever since
that political blogger had released pictures of her with the senator.

Not Burke’s pictures, Thank God. But they were titillating enough to draw this crowd.

Tasha glanced back at her open laptop and moved closer, studying them again. Her in
a bikini cuddling on Stephen’s lap at Burke’s house. A close up of them mid-passionate
kiss when he was carrying her back to their bedroom after the rope demo—thankfully,
it had been cropped. Her laughing at dinner, unaware that Stephen was watching her
with something more than hunger in his expression. Pride? Longing?

None of them were vulgar, but the picture they painted was clear. She read the blog’s
headline:
Has The Senator Whose Slogan Reads “Fight for Finn” Finally Found A Girl Worth Fighting
For?

The article itself was short and nowhere near as damaging as it could have been. In
fact, it was flattering. It mentioned her local upbringing, her business, her citizenship
classes and even quoted a few of her friends from the LGBT parade brigade. They approached
her sexuality with a tongue-in-cheek reference to a BDSM book that had been so popular
they’d made it into a movie, instantly removing the stigma she’d assumed would be
attached to her kink.

She wanted to bake the author cookies. After she hit him with a frying pan for posting
these pictures in the first place.

But maybe Ken was right. As soon as she saw them, she’d called to ask him to use his
powers for good and crash the site, and he’d said, “But this is perfect, Tasha. All
Burke’s leverage is gone. Any pictures he posts now would make him look like a classless
copycat. He can’t control the narrative and create a scandal because they got out
in front of him. Now the story is everywhere. This is why I love the Internet.”

If that was true, she definitely needed to bake that blogger cookies. Which she would
bring to him if the sea of people waiting to ask her about her relationship with Stephen
would just give up and go home.

A sudden increase in the decibel level brought her back to the window. “You’ve got
to be kidding me.”

Brady Finn was walking around the hood of a black sedan. He had on his Marine face,
making him look thoroughly intimidating. Not that he needed help with that. His muscles
were practically exploding from his snug black t-shirt as he opened the passenger
door.

Stephen was here.

The crowd parted and circled them, calling out questions as they headed toward the
front steps of her building. When Stephen turned and held up his hand to ask for silence,
the voices faded.

As quietly as she could, Tasha lifted her window a crack. She wasn’t sure she wanted
to hear what he had to say, but she needed to.

He smiled. “I’m guessing we all read the same article.” The crowd chuckled. “I had
no idea a few pictures on one small blog would cause this much attention. I hear it
even got a twitter mention from a Kennedy. You might have to be Irish to understand
exactly how proud my father is right now.”

They all laughed again.

“How long have you been dating Miss Rivera?” a reporter shouted.

Stephen glanced at him, but didn’t respond. “I apologize for making you wait. I would
have been here sooner, but I’ve been working hard to close the book on some of the
unethical activities my fellow senators have been engaged in. A few representatives
of the people have been giving away their votes and your voice in our government for
the basest of reasons. Greed.”

The buzz of the crowd was growing again. “Today should be a big news day for you.
Two state representatives will be resigning from office in the next few hours. They’ll
announce their decision on the steps of the capitol building.” The crowd began to
shout and he held up his hand again. “
And…
Mr. Philip Burke is already in the custody of the FBI. At this moment, no doubt in
the hopes of leniency, he is cooperating with the agency by handing over vital information
on those politicians who have accepted money to alter the language of bills, change
their votes and actively participate in the kind of stonewalling and obstruction that
creates most of the division and dysfunction in our system. In our country.”

Tasha placed a hand over her pounding heart. It was over? Burke was in custody?

She watched as more than half of the crowd dispersed, phones pressed to their ears
as they confirmed what Stephen was saying and left her yard for more newsworthy pastures.

But not all of them went away.

“Is it true that Miss Rivera’s father was deported from this country due to his family’s
affiliation with terrorists?”

She glared at the reporter, but Stephen just smiled. “He was deported because he was
unable to get his work visa renewed and the woman he loved turned down his marriage
proposal. I can tell you from experience that those Rivera women can be stubborn.”

Another reporter caught the hint he’d thrown. “Did she turn you down, Senator? Are
you back on the market?”

“Theresa, good to see you. And to answer your question, Miss Rivera has said no in
word and deed to most of my propositions for years. But Finns can be stubborn too,
particularly when it’s important. I can’t say this crowd on her lawn is helping my
cause, but I understand you’re just doing your jobs.”

He glanced toward her window and she stepped back so quickly she almost fell over.
“If you want full disclosure, Theresa, I’m not sure if I’m on the market or not. That’s
what I’m here to find out. No more questions.”

She peered out the window again in time to see him nod at Brady, who crossed his arms
and stood in front of the door, acting as a human barricade while Stephen disappeared
inside.

“Shit.” She looked around her apartment. Boxes everywhere. Tape and cartons of takeout
and boxes.

She knew she didn’t look much better. Her hair was a mess, she was in her oldest t-shirt
and shorts, and anxiety about those pictures hadn’t given her much opportunity for
beauty sleep.

He’d come to see her in front of those reporters. Basically admitted that they were
in a relationship, without apology or explanation.

And the world was still turning.

It wasn’t. It was spinning. So fast she was dizzy and scared and wanted to cling to
the ground so she wouldn’t be thrown into space.

He knocked on her door. “Are you going to open up this time, Natasha, or will you
let your neighbor call the police to haul me away in front of all these reporters?”

She opened the door and took several steps back.

He looked good. He always did. Senator Stephen Finn in his wrinkle-free suit, with
his perfect hair and his made-for-television good looks.

She’d missed him more than she’d thought possible.

He closed and locked the door behind him, watching her as he reached up to loosen
his tie.

“Congratulations,” she offered, when she couldn’t take the silence. “On Burke.”

“It’s time, Natasha.” He tugged the tie through the collar of his shirt and dropped
it on the floor.

“For what?” She took another step back. “How’s your father?”

“He’s fine, which you know because you talked to him yesterday. It’s time for that
serious talk we were going to have, right before the FBI asked me to start sucking
up to Burke.” He took one step closer, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. Methodically.
“That’s why, you know.”

“Why what?”

“Why we didn’t talk sooner. You never asked. You just assumed that I changed my mind
after it blew over, didn’t you? That or I was never serious to begin with.”

Tasha swallowed. “No, I just—you came here to diffuse this, I know. The blog frenzy.
Thank you. I have no idea who did it but—”

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