Baby, Come Back Read Free

should be grateful— his son could look and act like that. His son could be spending his days here instead of with...his pregnant girlfriend.
    Hayes swore silently. How could Jeff have gotten himself into this situation? Jeff, a National Merit scholar? An all-state athlete? Good God, how could he have been so careless?
    Like father like son.
    Hayes pulled his mouth into a tight, grim line. How could he judge his son? He’d been much older when the same thing had happened to him. Supposedly wiser. But he and Alice had been lucky. Disaster had been averted by nature.
    Lucky. The thought moved through his head, and he twisted his lips. He didn’t feel lucky. Not then. Not now. In fact, most times he didn’t feel anything at all.
    Hayes passed a group of teenagers arguing over a poem, a girl sitting at an easel sketching, past another who appeared to be meditating. When he’d called and questioned Hope House’s director about Sheri Kane and her place here, the director had described theirs as a program that used creative self-expression as a vehicle through which troubled teens learned to cope with their problems. Whatever the hell that meant. All he cared about was getting a handle on Sheri Kane so he could take care of Jeff’s problem.
    He found Alice’s office. The door stood ajar. She faced the single window, her back to him. He gazed at her, his mouth suddenly dry, his heart beating fast. Everything about her called to his sensory memory. The curve of her hip, encased now in light-colored denim, reminded him of how his hand had fit over it, as if made just for him. He recalled the feel of her skin, soft, warm, incredibly smooth. The silky sensation of her whiskey-colored hair against his fingers. Lord, how he’d loved to bury his face in it after they’d made love. It had always smelled sweet, like springtime.
    Hayes swallowed, fighting against the memories, against the overwhelming sense of déjà vu. He couldn’t dispel it, not completely, and frowned. He wouldn’t allow himself a trip down memory lane. He wouldn’t allow himself, even for a moment, to question the decision he’d made twelve years ago.
    As if sensing his presence, Alice turned. Her eyes met his. In that moment he saw that she had changed.
    The girl had become a woman.
    Hayes skimmed his gaze over her. Some of the changes were subtle, others blatant. Her face bore the signs of maturity, of experience and self-confidence. Her mouth seemed fuller, her figure more lush. The blush of girlhood had been replaced by the bloom of womanhood.
    Hayes released a pent-up breath. Twelve years. It had been twelve years since he’d last seen her. Since he’d held her in his arms. Since he’d tasted her mouth, her sultry sweetness.
    Twelve years since he’d broken her heart.
    She’d never forgiven him. He saw it in her eyes— a trace of vulnerability, of hurt. Of accusation.
    Even though he couldn’t blame her, he felt bereft, as if he’d lost something really special. Something magical.
    He called himself a fool. “Hello, Alice.”
    She inched her chin up a fraction, and he almost smiled. He remembered that gesture vividly. She’d been forever popping that chin up in defiance or anger. Or when hurt. He wondered which the gesture was in response to now. For she’d changed in another way; now she possessed the ability to hide her real feelings.
    â€œHello, Hayes.”
    â€œSurprised to see me?”
    â€œNo.” She folded her arms across her chest. “The director mentioned that you called. I figured you’d show up sooner or later.”
    Hayes stepped into the office, scanning it as he did, taking in the obviously donated furniture, mismatched and worn, the chipped and peeling walls, the desk, haphazardly piled with books, assorted papers and file folders. He brought his gaze back to Alice’s. “Then you know why I’m here.”
    â€œTo