Perhaps that's not entirely unheard-of when you think about it, but the other and remarkable thing was that guys liked him, too. He didn't do the stud...loutish jock thing. He played sports, but sports weren't his life. We've all known guys for whom that big game, and the high point of their lives, was in high school, and it's been pretty much down hill for them ever since then. Not Matt. No, the kid seemed to go from strength to strength.I mentioned the moms earlier. Oh, yeah, the moms. I'm. Time stands still, the only sounds: the beating of our hearts and the ebb and flow of our breath – both in unison; you pull away, eyes darting, searching mine, begging for the permission that I gave you back in our school days. I had said, “anytime, whatever you like.” I meant it, I never stopped meaning it, but you’re unsure. I give an almost imperceptible nod and thank God I did, your supple lips find mine, locking into place. Finally. That subtle perfume you got for Christmas (probably. ”“Can you let me know if you hear any news about Joanna?” I asked.“Will do. Bye.” Cayenne hung up without waiting for me to reciprocate.The timing was fortuitous because just after the call ended, I heard Mum start her car and drive off. I went downstairs and used the home phone to call the local cab company.“Where to?” asked the receptionist, after taking my home address.“Can you take me to Calhoun’s Place,” I said.“Does that have a Zip Code?”“No, it’s halfway up the mountain.”“I’m sorry, we. The baby didn't resemble him at all. Miranda and Matthew strongly suspected that the father had been one of the men from that traumatic evening…when Jake and his hired men had held Miranda and Matthew captive in the shipping container.Even after the horror of that night, Miranda had been adamant about giving birth if she got pregnant, so she'd brought the baby to term. And even though the child probably wasn't his, Matthew had insisted, time and again, that it didn't matter. It didn't matter.
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