Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change? novel Chapter 1197

Without waiting for Rebecca White to answer, Eddy’s eyes suddenly lit up as if a crazy thought had just struck him.

“Mr. Johnson’s kid—is that with that… actress?”

He meant Caroline, of course.

Eddy didn’t know Francis very well, but everyone in town knew Caroline. The rumors about her and Francis were as common as pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving.

As soon as he said it, Eddy looked even more uncomfortable.

“Rebecca…”

“No,” Rebecca White shook her head, waving her hands to cut him off, “It’s not like that. The kid—he’s got nothing to do with Caroline.”

“Not Caroline’s?” Eddy’s eyebrows knitted together, refusing to relax.

More questions tumbled out of him. “Then whose is it?”

He blinked in confusion. “Hasn’t Mr. Johnson been with Caroline all these years? Does he have someone else? Another woman? The kid’s not even that little!”

Panic rising, Eddy grabbed Rebecca White’s wrist. “Rebecca, if Mr. Johnson’s that much of a player… you still want to be with him? If he can do it, why can’t I—?”

“Eddy!”

Rebecca White frowned, cutting him off sharply. He’d gone way over the line.

“Rebecca…”

He tried to say more, but Rebecca shook her head, not giving him the chance. The words exploded out of her.

“James is my son!”

Eddy froze, staring at her like she’d just grown a second head.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you get it? Did you forget I had a child? He’s—”

“Ms. White!”

Before she could finish, James barreled out from the house, his chubby arms waving. “I washed up! Come see!”

“Alright, alright.”

“Rebecca.”

She pulled the phone closer, her voice cool, not giving much away. “Yeah?”

“Where are you? Back home yet?” Francis asked. “James should be asleep by now.”

“Yeah. Just leaving Whispering Pines.”

She rolled her eyes. “What about you? Planning to spend the night there?”

“No,” Francis replied. “She’s taken her meds, should be asleep soon. Once she’s out, I’ll head over to Rosewood to see you.”

“Why come over? It’s late,” Rebecca half-scolded, half-teased.

“It’s not late,” Francis murmured, voice low and just a little rough—dangerously tempting. “I missed you. I want to see you.”

Rebecca pressed her lips together, fighting a smile. “Suit yourself. I’m not waiting up. If I fall asleep, I’m not getting up.”

…

David pulled up to Rosewood Mansion and got out to open the door for her. “Good night, Ms. White. I’ll pick you up first thing tomorrow.”