Chapter 4

Caprice POV

Caprice sat in the passenger seat of the SUV as Jaxon drove us out of Portland and into the country. So far we’d chatted about the weather and the differences between the east and west coast, while shooting furtive glances at each other. Damn, he was hot.

To avoid staring at him, I gazed out the window. We traveled along a winding river with evergreens and big maples all around.

He broke the silence that had been building between us for the past few minutes. “So, you’re Isabella’s granddaughter?”

I allowed myself a glance at his perfectly masculine face. “Shouldn’t you have made sure of that before you picked me up at the airport?”

He chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. “I know you’re her granddaughter. I was just hoping for some…more information.”

“You mean you want the inside scoop?” I continued to look out the window to keep a clear head. Just sitting next to this guy was overwhelming. It was like his presence was too big for the inside of the SUV. It pressed against me, and I was in danger of being swallowed up in it.

“You could say that,” he said.

“Well, I’ve been in foster care since I was three. I really didn’t think I had any other family. Then a few weeks ago, I got a letter from Isabella saying she had been looking for me for years. Now I’m here. How do you know her?” I was most curious about that.

“I’m a family friend. I’ve known Isabella all my life. She’s an amazing woman. I think you’ll like her.”

The trees gave way to farmland before we entered a town. We drove through a small, dingy downtown area, then out into more trees.

I turned to look behind us. “Was that Estacada?”

“Part of it.”

“So she doesn’t live in town?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Just outside. We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

We drove on the narrow two-lane road as it twisted and turned through the trees, until Jaxon made a right onto a long driveway. At the end was an adorable Victorian-style house, surrounded by an extensive vegetable and herb garden.

Jaxon parked the SUV right in front. “I’ll grab your bags.”

He turned to get out of the vehicle. With each movement, his back muscles rippled under the fitted black T-shirt. I caught myself staring after him, snapping my mouth shut.

Never in my life had I been so distracted by a guy—especially a hot one, who was probably secretly an asshole. Although he’d been nice enough on the ride here.

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I let myself out of the SUV.

The screen door slammed shut, and out walked a short woman with long silver hair. Her curvy figure was clothed in a sundress. She had to be in her sixties, but there was a fun-loving youthfulness in her face and appearance.

“Caprice!” Her husky voice called as she stretched her arms wide.

I smiled, letting her embrace me. She kissed both my cheeks, then stood at arm’s length, evaluating me.

Her gaze was kind as it surveyed me from head to toe. Up close, her face showed permanent laugh lines around her mouth and eyes. This was a woman who enjoyed life. Who went with the flow and made the best of any situation. At least that’s what I saw in her.

“You are a Sorrentino. Look at you!” Isabella said. “Come, we have much to talk about.”

Jaxon followed us into the house. He went up the stairs, my gaze following his easy movements as he carried both my suitcases. Then I turned my attention to the inside of the house.

The place was done up in an elegant style. Polished wood floors were covered with subtle floral-patterned area rugs. Striped wallpaper, gleaming baseboards, high ceilings. All the furniture was wood and upholstery. It was the most magnificent house I’d ever seen.

Grandma Isabella led us into the kitchen, where a wall of windows let in the evening light. The aroma of baked cheese and herbs hit my nose. My stomach growled. I’d snacked on the plane, but hadn’t had a full meal since breakfast.

“I’m glad you’re hungry,” she said. “Sit, please.”

I sat at the rustic farmhouse table in the middle of the enormous kitchen. Isabella pulled a casserole from the oven, setting it on the stovetop. My mouth watered just looking at it.

Jaxon walked in, and my gaze shifted to him. He stood with his thumbs shoved into his jean pockets, exuding ease and confidence. Yet I sensed some deeper power in him—he was formidable.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Isabella asked.

My stomach erupted in butterflies. Part of me wanted to spend more time with this beautiful man. But another part knew that I’d be too nervous to eat. My food would end up all down my shirt, and it would be a disaster.

Jaxon shook his head. “Not tonight. I need to head home.”

He approached her, kissing her on the cheek. He turned to me. “It was nice to meet you, Caprice.”

His grey eyes held mine for a long moment. Then he left.

I mentally kicked myself for freezing up. I’d never been so pulled in by a guy before—actually, that wasn’t true. The memory of the creep at the beach party sprang up. He’d lured me in with…compulsion? Whatever that was, it had freaked me out. I never wanted to be that easily taken in again. I’d have to keep my guard up around Jaxon, because something about him threatened to lure me in.

Isabella had made Eggplant Parmesan, which was amazingly delicious. I hadn’t been very good at contributing to the conversation while we ate. She seemed to recognize that I wasn’t being rude; I was just starving.

After dinner, there was strawberry ice cream for dessert. We took our bowls to the sunroom, watching the last rays of daylight disappear.

Isabella sat next to me on a rattan daybed. “You must have a million questions for me,” she said. “But I’d like to start, if that’s okay?”

I nodded, sucking on my spoon.

She set her mostly full bowl of ice cream aside. “I didn’t want to tell you any of this over the phone, given…the nature of it.”

Her brow furrowed, her eyes filled with sadness. The happy, easy-going Isabella was gone. This woman looked many decades older, tired, and filled with sorrow.

I let my spoon drop into my bowl, all of my attention on her as my stomach filled with dread.

“Do you know how your mother died?” she asked.

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. “Yeah. She was mugged and shot.”

I didn’t remember any of it, just the details my case worker had shared with me when I was old enough.

Isabella licked her lips. “Your father didn’t know about you until a few years after you were born. Your mother finally sent him a letter. It must have been only a few months before her tragic death. The problem was, she didn’t tell him where she was living. He searched, but without any solid information, he couldn’t find you. And he had no idea your mother had died, and you’d been gobbled up by the foster system. Since your mother was an immigrant, it was even harder to search for you.”

A whole array of emotions warred inside me. For so long, I’d thought he’d left because of me. When in reality, he hadn’t even known I’d existed. My stomach twisted with a mix of sadness, relief, and anger at the unfairness of it all.

Isabella continued, “He died when you were about five years old. In a fight with some locals.”

Her brow creased. She blinked several times, then swallowed hard.

“I didn’t know about you, or his search for you, until several years after he was gone. That’s when I went looking for you.”

“How did you find me?” I asked.

“With sheer luck.” Isabella snorted. “An old friend of your father’s works in the admissions office at University of Maryland Baltimore. When she saw you, she called me. That’s how strongly you resemble your father.”

I slowly nodded, taking this all in. “Why…why did he leave my mother?”

Isabella’s tan face turned a deep crimson. “I hope you will forgive me. Jaxon is a phone call away if you want to leave.”

She drew in a shaky breath, not meeting my eyes.

“It was my fault.” Her voice broke. “I didn’t think she was good enough for him. I tore them apart. I’m so sorry.”