by Susan Meier
And he’d hurt her.
He wouldn’t let himself forget that. He also wouldn’t let himself hurt her again. He could say that with absolute certainty because he wouldn’t get involved with her again. That was a promise he was making to himself.
He showered and shaved and was back in his bedroom before he heard the sound of Grace’s alarm. Removing a suit from the garment bag he’d hung in the closet, he heard Sarah’s wailing and Grace’s words of comfort. He put the suit back in the closet, and yanked on jeans and a T-shirt, listening to Grace soothing Sarah as she carried her downstairs. He heard Grace quietly return upstairs and knew that the lack of crying meant Sarah was sucking her bottle.
He listened for the sound of Grace’s door closing and then sneaked downstairs. It had been years since he’d made his “world famous” blueberry pancakes, but if anybody ever deserved a little treat, it was Grace.
* * *
After taking a last peek to be sure her black skirt and print blouse were in the proper position, Grace shifted away from her full-length mirror to lift already-dressed Sarah from her crib. But as she turned, the scent of something sweet stopped her.
Whatever it was it smelled like pure heaven.
Her mouth watered.
She grabbed Sarah and rushed down the steps. In the kitchen, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and wearing a bib apron, stood Danny.
“What is that smell?”
He turned with a smile. “Pancakes. My one and only specialty.”
“If they taste as good as they smell, they are absolutely your specialty.”
“Oh, they do.”
The ringing endorsement—combined with the growling of Grace’s tummy—had her scampering into the dining area. She slid Sarah into her high chair and went to the kitchen to retrieve plates from the cupboard. “More stuff you learned while at school?”
He winced. “Not really. These are the only thing I can cook. Unless you count canned soup and fried eggs.”
Avoiding her eyes, he set two fluffy blueberry pancakes on each of the two plates she held. Grace took them to the table. She set her dish at the seat beside the high chair and the second across the table from her.
The night before he’d kissed her and just the memory of that brought a warm fuzzy somersault feeling to her empty tummy. She hadn’t let the kiss go too far. But there was something between them. Something special. Something sharp and sexual. It wasn’t something that would go away with the press of a button, or just because it complicated things. And today he’d made her breakfast. Though she appreciated it, she also knew she had to tread lightly. She didn’t want to get involved with him again and he was tempting her.
Danny brought the syrup to the table and sat across from her. “I think there are some things you and I need to discuss.”
Her stomach flip-flopped again. The last thing she wanted was to talk about their one-night stand. Or whatever it was that had happened between them. But disliking him hadn’t worked to keep them apart. So maybe it was best to talk?
“Okay.”
He took a breath. “All right. Here’s the deal. That kiss last night was wrong and I don’t want you to have to worry about it happening again.”
She looked across the table at him, her heart in her throat, and praying her eyes weren’t revealing the pain that brought. She also didn’t think getting involved was a good idea, but he hadn’t needed to say the words.
“The truth is I know you deserve better than me.”
Grace blinked. That wasn’t at all what she was expecting and she had absolutely no idea how to reply.
“The night we slept together, I was going through a bad time,” he said, glancing down at his pancake before catching her gaze again. “Not that that makes what happened right, but I think it might help you to understand that now that I’m past those personal problems, I can see I misjudged you and I’m sorrier than I can ever say.”
Grace took a breath. Once again he was talking about himself, but not really about anything. Still his apology was a big step for them. “Okay.”
“Okay you understand or okay you accept my apology?”
She took another breath. Her gut reaction was to accept his apology, but she simply didn’t trust him. He had a powerful personality. He might say that she needn’t worry about him kissing her again, but she didn’t believe either of them could say that with absolute certainty. There was something between them. Chemistry, probably. Hormones that didn’t listen to reason. She was afraid that if she accepted his apology and told him she understood it would open the door to things she couldn’t control. Things neither one of them could control.
Before she could answer, Danny said, “I hate excuses for bad behavior, but sometimes there are valid reasons people do all the wrong things.” He took a breath. “Because that weekend was the two-year anniversary of my son’s death, I wasn’t myself.”
Grace blinked. “What?”
“Cory had died two years before. Six months after his accident my wife and I divorced. I spent the next year and a half just going through the motions of living.”
Shocked into silence, Grace only stared at him.
“That weekend you reminded me of happiness.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. Watching you with Orlando and hearing the two of you make jokes and have a good time, I remembered how it felt to be happy and I began to feel as if I were coming around.” He caught her gaze. “You know...as if I were ready to live again.”
Stuck in the dark place of trying to imagine the crushing blow of the death of a child and feeling overwhelmed at even the thought, Grace only nodded.
“But I’d always believed you and I had gone too far too fast by making love the very first weekend we really even spoke, and when I went away for that week of client hopping my doubts haunted me. I started imagining all kinds of reasons you’d sleep with me without really knowing me, and some of them weren’t very flattering.” He took a breath. “When you told me you were pregnant it just seemed as if every bad thing I had conjured had come true.” He held her gaze steadily. “I was wrong and I am sorry.”
Grace swallowed hard. She’d left the beach house happy, thinking she’d found Mr. Right and believing all things good would happen for them. But Danny had left the beach house worried about the potential bad. It was no wonder neither of them had seen the other’s perspective. They were at two ends of a very broad spectrum.
“I’m sorry, too. I was so happy I didn’t think things through. Had I known—”
Sarah pounded on her tray with a squeal. Grace grimaced. “I forgot to feed her.”
Danny calmly rose. “I can get that.”
Grace’s first instinct was to tell him to sit back down. Their discussion wasn’t really over. But wasn’t it? What else was there to say? He was sorry. She was sorry. But they couldn’t change the past. She didn’t want a relationship. He’d hurt her and she rightfully didn’t trust him. And he didn’t want a relationship. Otherwise he wouldn’t have promised not to kiss her again. There was nothing more to say. The discussion really was over.
“Do you remember how to make cereal?” Grace asked.
“The stuff in the box with a little milk, right?”
She nodded.
“I can handle it.”
He strode into the kitchen and Grace took several long, steadying breaths.
His child had died.
She had always believed that nothing he could say would excuse the way he treated her when she told him she was pregnant.
But this did.
It didn’t mean she would trust her heart to him, but it did mean she could forgive him.
* * *
That night Grace had dinner nearly prepared when Danny arrived. She directed him upstairs to change while she fed Sarah some baby foo
d and by the time Sarah had eaten, Danny returned wearing jeans and a T-shirt. He looked as relaxed as he had their night at the beach house. Confession, apparently, had done him a world of good.
Incredibly nervous, Grace fussed over the salads. Now that she knew about Danny’s son everything was different. She almost didn’t know how to treat him. His admissions had opened the door to their being friends, and being friendly would work the best for Sarah’s sake. But could two people with their chemistry really be friends?
While Grace brought their salads to the table, Danny took his seat.
“You know, we never have gotten around to discussing a lot of things about Sarah.”
Glad for the neutral topic, Grace said, “Like what?”
“For one, child support.”
“Since we’ll each have Sarah two weeks a month, I don’t think either one of us should be entitled to child support. So don’t even think of filing for any.”
He laughed. “Very funny.”
A tingle of accomplishment raced through her at his laughter, but she didn’t show any outward sign of her pleasure. Instead she shrugged casually. “Hey, I make a decent salary. How do I know it wasn’t your intention to file?”
“You never did tell me where you got a job.”
“I work for a small accounting firm. Johnson and O’Hara.”
“So you do okay financially?”
“Yeah.” Grace smiled. “Actually they pay me double what your firm did.”
He chuckled. “You got lucky.”
“Yes, I did.”
He glanced into the kitchen, then behind himself at the living room. “And you seem to know how to use your money wisely.”
“I bought this house the day I got my first job.”
“The night I was grilling, I remembered you told me about remodeling your house while we ate that Sunday night at the beach house.” He smiled across the table at her, and Grace’s stomach flip-flopped. Lord, he was handsome. And nice. And considerate. And smart. And now she knew he wasn’t mean-spirited or selfish, but wounded. Life had hurt him and he needed somebody like her to make him laugh.
Oh, God, she was in trouble!
“You did a good job on the remodel.”
“My cousin did most of it.” Shifting lettuce on her dish, Grace avoided looking at him. “I was the grunt. He would put something in place, tack it with a nail or two then give me the nail gun to finish.”
“It looks great.” He took another bite of salad.
But Grace was too nervous to eat. She couldn’t hate him anymore. But she couldn’t really like him, either.
Or could she?
By telling her about his son, he’d both explained his behavior and proved he trusted her.
But he’d also said she didn’t need to worry about him kissing her anymore.
Of course, he might have said that because she’d pushed him away the night before, reminding him that kissing only got them in trouble.
They finished their salads and Grace brought the roast beef, mashed potatoes and peas to the table. Unhappy with being ignored, Sarah pounded her teething ring on her high chair tray and screeched noisily.
“What’s the matter, Sarah Bear,” Grace crooned, as she poured gravy onto her mashed potatoes. Sarah screeched again and Grace laughed. “Oh, you want to sit on somebody’s lap? Well, you can’t.”
She glanced at Danny. “Unless your daddy wants to hold you?”
Danny said, “Sure, I’ll—”
But Grace stopped him. “No. You can’t hold a baby in front of a plate with gravy on it. You would be wearing the gravy in about twenty seconds.”
“If you want to eat your dinner in peace, I could take her into the living room, then eat when you’re done.”
He was so darned eager to please that Grace stared at him, drawing conclusions that made her heart tremble with hope. There was only one reason a man wanted to please a woman. He liked her. Which meant maybe Danny had only promised not to kiss her again because she’d stopped him, not because he didn’t want to kiss her anymore.
Or she could be drawing conclusions that had absolutely no basis in fact.
“I’m fine. I like having Sarah at the table. When I said you might want to hold her I was just teasing her.”
“Oh, okay.”
Determined to keep her perspective and keep things light and friendly, Grace turned to the high chair. “So, Miss Sarah, you stay where you are.”
“What’s that thing your mother’s got you wearing?” Danny asked, pointing at the fuzzy swatch of material in the shape of a stuffed bear that had been sewn onto Sarah’s shirt.
“It’s a bear shirt.”
Danny’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth and he gave Grace a confused look. “What?”
“A bear shirt.” Grace laughed. “From the day she was born, my dad called her Sarah Boo Beara...then Sarah Bear. Because the name sort of took, my parents buy her all kinds of bear things.” She angled her fork at the bear on Sarah’s shirt. “Push it.”
“Push it?”
“The bear. Push it and see what happens.”
Danny reached over and pushed the bear on Sarah’s shirt. It squeaked. Sarah grinned toothlessly.
Danny jumped as if somebody had bitten him. “Very funny.”
“It makes Sarah laugh and some days that’s not merely a good thing. It’s a necessity.”
“I remember.”
Of course, he remembered. He’d had a son. Undoubtedly lots of things he did for Sarah or things Sarah did would bring back memories for him. If he needed anything from Grace it might not be a relationship as much as a friend to listen to him. Just listen.
“Would you like to talk about it?”
Danny shook his head. “Not really.”
Okay. She’d read that wrong. She took a quiet breath, realizing she’d been off base about him a lot, and maybe the smart thing here would be to stop trying to guess what he thought and only believe what he said. Including that he wouldn’t be kissing her anymore. So she should stop romanticizing.
“If you ever do want to talk, I’m here.”
“I know.” He toyed with his fork then he glanced over at her with a wistful smile. “I sort of wonder what might have happened between us if I’d told you everything the morning after we’d slept together, as I had intended to.”
Her heart thudded to a stop. “You were going to tell me?”
He nodded. “Instead the only thing I managed to get out was that I had to go away for a week.” He paused, glancing down at the half-eaten food on his plate. “I really shouldn’t have slept with you that night. I was still raw, but fighting it, telling myself it was time to move on. And I made a mistake.”
“You don’t get sole blame for that. I was the one who went down to the bar.”
“Yeah, but I was the one who knew I wasn’t entirely healed from my son’s death and my divorce. The whole disaster was my fault.”
“It takes two—”
“Grace, stop. Please.”
His tone brooked no argument—as if she’d been pushing him to talk, when she hadn’t—and Grace bristled. Though he’d said he didn’t want to talk about this, he’d been the one to dip their toes into the conversation. Still, because it was his trouble, his life, they were discussing, he also had to be the one with the right to end it. “Okay.”
He blew his breath out on a long sigh. “I’m not trying to hide things or run from things, but I just plain don’t want to remember anymore. I’m tired of the past and don’t like to remember it, let alone talk about it. I like living in the present.”
“I can understand that.”
“Good.” He set his fork on his dish. “So do you want help with the dishes?”
She almost automatica
lly said no, but stopped herself. Giving him something to do made life easier for both of them. “Sure.”
He rose, gathering the plates. She lifted the meat platter and walked it to the refrigerator. The oppressive tension of the silence between them pressed on her chest. If the quiet was difficult for her, she couldn’t even imagine how hard it was on Danny. Knowing he didn’t want to think, to remember, she plunged them into the solace of chitchat.
“So what did you do at work today?”
Danny turned on the faucet to rinse their dishes. “The same old stuff. What did you do?”
“I’m in the process of reviewing the books for a company that wants to incorporate.”
That caught his interest. “Oh, an IPO.”
Grace winced at the excitement in his voice. “No, a small family business. The corporation will be privately held. The principals are basically doling out shares of stock to the family members who made the company successful, as a way to ensure ownership as well as appropriate distribution of profits.”
“Ah.”
“Not nearly as exciting as investing the fortunes of famous athletes, but it’s good work. Interesting.”
“Have you begun to do any investing for yourself?”
His question triggered an unexpected memory of telling him she’d gone to work for his investment firm because she wanted to learn about investing to be rich. The heat of embarrassment began to crawl up her neck. She’d meant what she said, but given everything that had happened between them, her enthusiastic pronouncement had probably fed the fire of his suspicions about her.
They’d really made a mess of things that night.
She walked back to the dining room table and retrieved the mashed potato bowl. “I’m working on getting the house paid off. So I haven’t had a lot of spare cash.”
“Since we’ll be splitting expenses for Sarah, you should have some extra money then, right?”
