She tucks her purse under her arm and averts her face. She watches the luggage being loaded onto the plane. “I’m still going. I have a ticket and a hotel reservation.”
The gate attendant announces the next boarding group and passengers mill toward the gate. Julian looks impatiently at him and mouths Let’s go. James holds up a finger, a signal he’ll be there in a second, then turns back to his mother. “I can’t stop you. I can, and I will, determine when and how you interact with my sons.”
“When do you plan to tell them about me?”
“I’m not sure I will.”
“But I’m their grandmother. You have no right keeping me from them.”
“Are you kidding me?” A short laugh rumbles from his chest. He gives his mother a look of disgust. “I have every right.” He shakes his head, still laughing at her audacity, and returns to his sons.
Their row block is announced. “Grab your stuff, kids. Time to go.”
“Where are you sitting, Señora Carla?” Marc asks once they’re in line.
“I’m in the very front.”
“Of course you are.” James fumbles with the zippers on his pack, searching for their tickets.
Julian gives him a weird look. “What’s your deal?”
“Life, Julian.” He gives his son his ticket. “Don’t lose it.”
“Seriously?” he balks. “What do you think I’m going to do? Drop it between here and the gate?” A woman with a toddler rushes forward, bumping Julian’s shoulder, knocking the ticket from his hand. It floats to the floor.
James snorts a laugh. He can’t help it.
“Shut up,” Julian mumbles. But his mouth twitches into a smile when he picks up the ticket.
James pats Julian’s shoulder, leaving his hand there to rest as they inch toward the gate. To his amazement, his son doesn’t shrug him off.
CHAPTER 12
CARLOS
Five Years Ago
July 8
Puerto Escondido, Mexico
I woke as the sun rose over the crest of the mountains to the east and ran my morning route, ten kilometers through the streets of Puerto Escondido with a finish on the hard-packed sand of Zicatela Beach. Broken clouds billowed overhead, revealing patches of golden blue, and electricity charged the air. Wind pushed inland.
Natalya was waiting for me as I walked up the beach, calves burning and body drenched. She sat on the half wall, drinking coffee. She was leaving in a few days. I’d drive her to the airport, kiss her good-bye, and make her promise me to call when she landed. She’d ask me again when I planned to fly to California.
I stopped in front of her and she smiled up at me. “Good morning.”
Gripping the back of her head, I gave her a quick, hard kiss. “Good morning.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You need a shower.”
“Only if you join me.” I sat beside her, groaning as I bent over to untie my Nikes.
“Hard run?”
“A good run.”
She smiled and sipped her coffee. “I’ve been thinking.”
I gave her a mock look of disbelief from my bent-over position. “That’s impressive.”
“Ha-ha.” She playfully shoved my shoulder; then her expression turned pensive. “Work is going to be crazy for the next few months.”
“Mari’s longboards?”
She nodded. “Between production and marketing, I’ll be pretty busy. I won’t be back until the torneo.”
“November?” That would be the longest time spent apart since we’d met. It would seem even longer now that our relationship had taken a new course. We moved her luggage into my room the morning after our first night together. She’d been in my bed every night since.
I slipped off my shoes and soaked socks, frowning at the unfamiliar ache in my chest. “You aren’t having second thoughts about us?”
“No, not at all.” She reached for my hand. Our fingers twined. “But about what I’ve been thinking . . . yes, I’m quite capable of that,” she teased, and I grinned. “Assuming your trip to California works out”—she tapped her head in reference to my fugue and that I’d still be myself, as in Carlos—“would you consider visiting me? November seems so far away.”
“I don’t know, Nat.” I slipped my hand from hers. “I haven’t decided yet if I’m going.”
“But you agreed to see Aimee. We talked about this.”
“I don’t know if I can go. I might not make it out of the country.”
“You’re still worried about your identification.”
“I’d be an idiot not to be.”
“Well . . . if Jason Bourne can do it, so can you.”
“Who’s Jason Bourne?”
She opened her mouth to explain.
“Never mind,” I interrupted, pushing to my feet. I lunged a few paces away. Hands on hips, I turned to Natalya. “I called Thomas yesterday.” Her mouth unhinged. “He said my identity is legit. When I asked how, he wouldn’t tell me, not over the phone. He’ll only explain in person.”
“What did you say? Is he coming here?”
I shrugged both shoulders. “No clue. I hung up on him.”
“Carlos . . .” She tossed up a hand. “Why?”
“Are you kidding me? This cloak-and-dagger shit is why I won’t have anything to do with that family.”
“You mean, your family.” She gave an impatient roll of her eyes and stood, brushing off the back of her cotton skirt. “Like it or not, you’re related to them, and there’s only one way to find out if you’re like them. Go to California. Go see how they live. Go meet your friends and find out what you’re like. Go talk to Aimee.”
“And when I find out I am just like them?”
She sighed, her gaze floating down the beach. “I don’t know. Can we talk about this when you get back?”
I inhaled and briefly closed my eyes. “Yes.” I could live with that. For now. Then an idea popped in my head and was out of my mouth in a flash. “We could just get married.”
“Carlos . . .” Her face fell.
“I thought you loved me.”
“You know I do,” she vehemently whispered.
But not enough to marry me, or to move to Puerto Escondido.
I swung back around toward the ocean, not really seeing it. “Forget I asked,” I said over my shoulder, because she was right. Best I get to know myself before getting attached to anyone else.
I heard Natalya sigh, then felt her arms around my waist. She kissed my spine and I covered her hands with mine. “We’ll work this out, Carlos. You’ll see.” She pressed her cheek against my back. “You’re a better man than you give yourself credit for.”
I looked up at the sky and disappearing sun. Thunder rumbled and I felt the vibration deep in my bones. Behind me, safe inside, the boys slept, the hour still early for a summer morning. Thomas said my identity and all accompanying paperwork was legitimate. How could I trust his word after all he’d put me through?
But if the paperwork wasn’t forged, that meant I was legally Julian’s father.
The realization came with some comfort. It also left me with a heavy heart. While I hadn’t been inclined to trust Thomas, in this one instance I had no choice. Going to California was the only way I could put my mind at ease. It was also the best way I could learn about James. I just hoped I’d make it there and back with my identity intact, in my head and on paper.
CHAPTER 13
JAMES
Present Day
June 27
Lihue, Kauai, Hawaii
James can’t sit still. His fingers tap the chair arm separating his seat from his sons’, and his knees bounce. He borrows a colored pencil from Marc just so he can hold on to something. It isn’t a paintbrush, but his fidgety fingers don’t care. What he doesn’t care for is why he’s nervous.
Toward the end of the flight, Julian looks at him, annoyed, so James stands and paces the aisle. When the pilot puts on the seatbelt sign and announces their descent, his chest muscles spasm. He’s finally meeting Natalya face-to-face. A woman who knows him intimately. Up until six months ago, their relationship was serious, like sexting and up-all-night-naked-under-the-sheets serious.