Page 138 of Eight Years Gone

She sighed, loving the idea of sharing such a miracle with the man she’d adored for nearly half her life. “When that day comes, will you hope for a son or a daughter?”

He shrugged. “I’ll be happy with whatever. The baby will be ours. That’s all that matters.”

She hummed in her throat. “That’s a good answer.”

He smiled.

She reached for his hands, kissing them, staring at his raisin fingers. “We should probably get out.”

“That’s not a half-bad idea.” He tugged on the drain, then stood, bringing her with him. “I think we should grab a couple of towels and do this all over again before we both fall asleep.”

She batted her lashes at him. “Yes, please.”

He set her on her feet on the bath mat. “We could always call out of work tomorrow and spend our Friday naked and sweaty.”

She grinned as she wrapped a towel around herself. “As much as that sounds amazing, I have to go into the shop. Work hasn’t had my full attention the last couple of days.”

He rubbed his towel up and down his chest. “No problem. We can do a naked, sweaty weekend.”

“But we have Fright Night on Saturday.”

He made a sound in his throat. “I guess we do.”

Jagger didn’t seem any more excited about the idea of getting dressed up than she did. “Unless we don’t go.”

“How about we play it by ear?”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Gaining her tiptoes, she nipped his bottom lip as her hands wandered to his butt. “I know we’re talking about naked and sweaty for this weekend, but I’m more interested in what you’ll do to me tonight.”

Grinning, he walked her backward from the room. “I can’t guarantee we’ll make it to the bed if you keep talking to me like that.”

She laughed as they picked up their pace, stopping by the mattress. She laughed again as they fell together to the sheets.

* * *

Grace sat in the desktop’s blue glow as she focused on her search in her office.

She’d dozed off for a couple of hours after she and Jagger had thoroughly exhausted each other, but she’d woken again, restless with her racing thoughts.

When she hadn’t been able to fall back to sleep, she’d gotten up to start searching for the only woman who could confirm or deny her mother’s long-ago suspicions.

“Here we go,” she whispered as she stopped to write down another Jessica Sawyer she found on the latest people search website she perused—this one with an L as her middle initial.

This Jessica Sawyer lived in State College, Pennsylvania, and fit the age bracket Grace was working with for the woman who might be the mother of her potential brother.

Scrolling down, she found the other Jessica options to be in their early fifties or late sixties—definitely not who she was looking for.

Glancing down at her list, she sighed. “Eight.” There were so many. And that was just in Pennsylvania.

Closing her eyes, she shook her head. How would she ever track Jessica down?

“Gracie?” Jagger walked to the doorway in his boxers, yawning. “What are you doing?”

She shrugged. “Just some research.”

He moved to where she sat, resting his palms on her shoulders as he studied the names she’d written down.

“What if I can’t find her?” she asked, sliding her fingers through her hair in frustration. “What if she doesn’t even live in Pennsylvania anymore?”

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