by Susan Meier
She sighed. “So I have to entertain you?”
He actually thought about that. For a few seconds Grace was sure the strong man in him would say no. Instead he laughed and said, “Yes. Somebody’s got to entertain me.”
Grace only stared at him. The night before she would have sworn he was firmly against getting involved with her, but today he was happy to be in her company. It didn’t make sense—
Actually it did. The night before they were both considering sleeping together. Today they were making soup. Laughing. Happy. Not facing a life choice. Just having fun in each other’s company. No stress. No worries. And wasn’t that her real goal? To make him comfortable enough that Sarah’s stays with him would be pleasant?
That was exactly her goal. So she couldn’t waste such a wonderful opportunity.
“Do you know anything about gardening?”
“No.”
“Ever played UNO?”
He gave her a puzzled look. “What’s an Uno?”
“Wow, either you’ve led dull life or I’ve been overly entertained.” Deciding she’d been overly entertained by a dad who couldn’t do much in the way of physical things, Grace had a sudden inspiration. “If your mother’s an expert at rummy, I know you’ve played that.”
He glanced down at his fingernails as if studying them. “A bit.”
“Oh, you think you’re pretty good, don’t you?”
“I’m a slouch.”
“Don’t sucker me!”
“Would I sucker you?”
“To get me to let my guard down so you could beat me, yes.” She paused, then headed to the dining room buffet and the cards. “If you think you have to sucker me, you must not be very good.”
“I’m exceptional.”
She grinned. “I knew it.”
Just then, a whimper floated from the baby monitor on the counter.
Grace set the cards back in the drawer. “So much for rummy. I’ll try to get her back to sleep but I’m betting she wants to come downstairs.”
“Why did she wake up so soon?”
“She probably heard us talking. That’s why she didn’t roll over and go back to sleep. She wants to be in on the action.”
“Great. We’ll play rummy with her in the high chair.”
She paused on her way to the steps. “We could, but wouldn’t it be more fun to spend a few minutes with Sarah first?”
He nodded. “Yeah. You’re right.”
As Grace went up the steps Danny took a long breath. He, Grace and the baby had had a good time shopping. He and Grace had had fun putting away the groceries and getting the soup into the pot. Now they would spend even more time together, and no doubt it would be fun.
He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. The whole morning had been so easy—so right—that he knew he was correct in thinking that a friendship between him and Grace gave him the family, the connection, he so desperately wanted. But he also knew he was getting too close to a line he shouldn’t cross—unless he wanted to fall in love with her and make their family a real family. He didn’t want to hurt her, but right now, in his gut, he had an optimistic sense that he wouldn’t. And the night before he’d seen in her eyes that she wanted what he wanted. For them to fall in love. She didn’t have to say the words for Danny to know that she trusted him. She believed in him. He’d hurt her once, yet she trusted that he wouldn’t hurt her again.
She believed in him and maybe the trick to their situation wouldn’t be to take this one step at a time, but to trust what Grace saw in him, rather than what he knew about himself.
He walked into the kitchen and lifted the lid from the pot. He sniffed the steam that floated out and his mouth watered. Even if soup was simple fare and even though he absolutely believed Grace had cheated with the bouillion cube, it smelled heavenly. He’d trusted her about spending two weeks here with her and Sarah, and had acclimated to being in a family again, albeit a nontraditional one. He’d trusted Grace about the soup, and it appeared he would be getting a tasty dinner. He’d trusted her about relaxing with Sarah and he now had a relationship with his daughter.
Could he trust her instinct that he wouldn’t hurt her? Or let her down the way he’d let Lydia down?
Grace came down the steps carrying smiling Sarah.
When the baby immediately zeroed in on him, he said, “Hey, kid.”
She yelped and clapped her hands.
“She does a lot of screeching and yelping. We’ve got to teach her a few words.”
“Eventually. Right now, I think playing with the blocks or maybe the cone and rings are a better use of our time.”
Danny was about to ask what the cone and rings were, but he suddenly had a very vivid memory of them. He saw Cory on the floor, brightly colored rings in a semicircle in front of him. He remembered teaching Cory to pick up the rings in order of size and slide them onto the cone.
And the memory didn’t hurt. In fact, it made him smile. Cory had always had an eye for color. Maybe Sarah did, too? Or maybe Danny didn’t care how smart Sarah was or where her gifts were? Maybe his being so concerned about Cory’s gifts was part of what had pushed Lydia away from him?
Forcing himself into the present, Danny glanced around. “Where’s the toy box?”
“I don’t have one. Sarah’s toys are in the bottom drawer of the buffet in the dining area.”
He walked over to it. “Curse of a small house?”
“Yes. This is the other reason I hesitated to talk with you about opening an investment account for me. I definitely need something with more space and I’m considering buying another house, and if I have extra money that’s probably where it will go.”
He opened the bottom drawer, found the colorful cone and rings and pulled it out. Returning to the area that served as a living room, he handed Grace the cone and sat on the sofa.
As Grace dumped the multicolored rings on the floor in front of Sarah, Danny cautiously said, “You know, we’ve never made a firm decision about child support.”
She glanced up at him with a smile. “Yes, we did. I told you I wouldn’t pay you any.”
Her comment made him laugh and suddenly Danny felt too far away. He slid off the sofa and positioned himself on the floor across from Grace with Sarah between them, using the baby as a buffer between him and the woman who—whether she knew it or not—was tempting him to try something he swore he’d never try again. Even the idea of trying was new. He was shaky at best about trusting himself, and Sarah’s happiness also tied into their situation. He couldn’t act hastily, or let his hormones have control.
“Actually I think if we went to court a judge would order me to pay you something. So, come on. Let’s really talk about this.”
Grace busied herself making sure all the rings were within Sarah’s reach. “Okay, if you want to pay something every month, why don’t you put a couple hundred dollars a month into a college fund for Sarah?”
“Because she doesn’t need a college fund. I can afford to pay for schooling.” He took a breath, remembering that the last time they’d broached this subject she’d made him stop—the same way he made her stop when they got too far into his past. But resolving child support for their daughter was different than rehashing a past he desperately needed to forget. They had to come to an agreement on support.
“Look, I know you don’t want to talk about this. But we have to. I don’t feel right not contributing to her day-to-day expenses.”
“I already told you that we’re going to be sharing custody,” Grace said as she gently guided Sarah’s hand to take the ring she was shoving into her mouth and loop it onto the cone. “I will have her one week, but you will have her the next. Technically that’s the way we’ll share her expenses.”
“I’d still like to—”
“Danny, I have a job. My house is nearly paid off. When I sell it, the money I get will be my down payment for the new one. I have a plan. It works. We’re fine.”
“I know. I just—”
Though Danny had thought she was getting angry, she playfully slapped his knee. “Just for one afternoon will you please relax?”
He peered at her hand, then caught her gaze. “You slapped me.”
She grinned. “A friendly tap to wake you up, so you’ll finally catch on that I’m right.”
This was what he liked about her. She didn’t have to win every argument. She also knew when to pull back. Before either one of them said something they’d regret, rather than after. It was a skill or sixth sense he and Lydia had never acquired. Plus, she had wonderfully creative ways of stepping away and getting him to step away. Rather than slammed doors and cold shoulders, she teased him. And she let him tease her.
“Oh, yeah? So what you’re saying is that friendly tapping between us is allowed?”
“Sure. Sometimes something physical is the only way to get someone’s attention.”
“You mean like this?” He leaped behind Sarah, caught Grace around the shoulders, and nudged her to the floor in one fluid movement, so he could tickle her.
“Hey!” she yelped, trying to get away from him when he tickled her ribs. “You had my attention.”
“I had your attention, but you weren’t getting my point, so I’m making sure you see how serious I am when I say you should take my money.”
She wiggled away from him. “I don’t need your money.”
“I can see that,” he said, catching her waist and dragging her back. “But I want to give it.”
He tickled her again and she cried, “Uncle! I give up! Give me a thousand dollars and we’ll call it even.”
“I gave you more than that for helping with Orlando,” he said, catching her gaze. When their eyes met, his breathing stopped. Reminded of the bonus and Orlando, vivid images of their weekend came to Danny. He stopped tickling. She stopped laughing. His throat worked.
In the year that had passed he’d all but forgotten she existed, convinced that she had lied about her pregnancy and left his employ because she was embarrassed that her scheme had been exposed. Now he knew she’d been sick, dependent upon the bonus that he’d given her for expenses and dependent upon her parents for emotional support that he should have given her.
“I’m so sorry about everything.”
She whispered, “I know.”
“I would give anything to make it up for the hurt I caused you.”
“There’s no need.”
He remembered again how she had been that weekend. Happy, but also gracious. She wouldn’t take a promotion she hadn’t deserved. She wouldn’t pry, was kind to Orlando, never overstepped her boundaries. And he’d hurt her. Chances were, he’d hurt her again.
Still, he wanted so much to kiss her that his chest ached and he couldn’t seem to overrule the instinct that was as much emotional as it was physical. He liked her. He just plain liked her. He liked being with her, being part of her life, having her in his life.
He lowered his head and touched his lips to hers, telling himself that if he slid them into a simple, uncomplicated romance with no expectation of grandeur, she wouldn’t be hurt. He wouldn’t be hurt. Both would get what they wanted.
His mouth slid across hers slowly at first, savoring every second of the physical connection that was a manifestation of the depth of his feelings for her. She answered, equally slowly, as if as hesitant as he was, but also as unable to resist the temptation. When the slight meeting of mouths wasn’t enough her lips blossomed to life under his, meeting him, matching him, then oh so slowly opening.
It was all the invitation Danny needed. He deepened the kiss, awash with the pleasure of being close to someone as wonderful as Grace. Happiness virtually sang through his veins. Need thrummed through him. For the first time since she’d brought Sarah to him, his thoughts didn’t automatically tumble back to their beach house weekend. They stayed in the present, on the moment, on the woman in his arms and the desire to make love. To touch her, to taste her, to cherish every wonderful second. To build a future.
But the second the future came into play, Danny knew he was only deluding himself. He’d tried this once and failed. He’d lost a child, broken his wife. Spent a year mourning his loss alone in the big house so hollow and empty it echoed around him. He knew the reality of loss. How it destroyed a person. Emptied a life. He couldn’t go through it again, but more than that, he wouldn’t force Grace to.
CHAPTER TEN
DANNY BROKE THE kiss, quickly rose from the floor and extended his hand to Grace. When she was on her feet, he spun away and Grace’s stomach knotted.
“Danny?”
He rubbed both hands down his face. “Grace, this is wrong.”
“No, it isn’t.” Glad for the opportunity to finally discuss their feelings instead of guessing, she walked over and grabbed him by the upper arm, turning him to face her. “This is us. We like each other. Naturally. We’re like toast and butter or salt and pepper. We fit.”
He laughed harshly. “Fit? Are you sure you want to say you fit with me?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
He shook his head. “Grace, please. Please, don’t. Don’t fit with me. Don’t even want to fit with me. If you were smart you wouldn’t even want to be my friend.”
At that her chin came up. If he was going to turn her away again, to deny her his love, or even the chance to be part of his life, this time she would make him explain. “Why?”
“Because I’m not good for you. I’m not good for anybody.”
“Why?”
He raked his fingers through his short black hair. “Stop!”
“No. You say you’re not good for me. I say you are. And I will not stop pursuing you.”
“Then I’ll leave.”
“Great. Run. If that’s your answer to everything, then you run.”
He groaned and walked away as if annoyed that she wouldn’t let him alone. “I’m not running. I’m saving you.”
“I don’t think you are. I also don’t think you’re a coward who runs. So just tell me what’s wrong!”
He pivoted to face her so quickly that Grace flinched. “Tell you? Tell you what? That I failed at my marriage and hurt the woman I adored? Tell you that I don’t want to do it again?”
His obsidian eyes were bright with pain. His voice seemed to echo from a dark, sacred place. A place of scars and black memories and wounds. A place he rarely visited and never took another person. Still, broken marriages were common. And though she understood his had hurt him, she also suspected even he knew it was time to get beyond his.
Her heart breaking for him, Grace whispered, “How do you know that you’ll fail?”
Stiff with resistance, he angrily countered, “How do you know that I won’t?”
“Because you’re good. You may not know it but I see it every day in how you treat me and how you treat Sarah.”
“Grace, you are wrong. I use people. Just ask my ex-wife. She’ll tell you I’m a workaholic. If you called her right now, she’d probably even accurately guess that I’m only here because I need to raise my daughter because I need an heir. Carson Services needs an heir.”
“Well, she’d be wrong. If you only wanted to raise Sarah because Carson Services needs an heir you could take me to court.”
“Unless I didn’t want you digging into my past.”
That stopped her.
“What if this is all about me not wanting you to take me to court?” he asked, stepping close. “What if there is something so bad in my past that I know even you couldn’t forgive it?”
She swallowed. Possibilities overwhelmed her. Not onl
y did having a hidden sin in his past explain why he agreed to live with her and their daughter when letting his lawyers handle their situation would have been much easier, but it also explained why he always stepped back, always denied himself and her.
Still, she couldn’t imagine what he could have done. He wasn’t gentle and retiring by any means. But he also wasn’t cruel or vindictive. He wasn’t the kind to take risks or live on the edge. She might have told herself to stop guessing, to quit ascribing characteristics to him he didn’t deserve, but she’d also lived with him for a week. Almost fifteen hours a day. She’d seen him choose to make breakfast, choose to bathe Sarah, choose to give Grace breaks. She didn’t believe he could be cruel or do something so horrible it couldn’t be forgiven.
She took a breath, then another. “I don’t think there is something in your past that can’t be forgiven.”
“What if I told you that I killed my son?”
Her heart in her throat, more aware of the pain that would cause him than any sort of ramification it would have on their relationship, she said, “You couldn’t have killed your son.”
“It was an accident, but the accident was my fault.”
Grace squeezed her eyes shut. An accident that was his fault. Of course. That accounted for so many things in his life and how he had treated her that before this hadn’t added up.
But accidents were circumstances that somehow got out of someone’s control. He hadn’t deliberately killed his child. He couldn’t deliberately kill his child. That was why he was so tortured now.
“Danny, it wasn’t your fault.”
His eyes blazed. “Don’t you forgive me! And don’t brush it off as if my son’s life was of no consequence. I was in charge of him that morning. I knew he was in the mood to push me. He wanted to remove the training wheels from his bike and I refused, but he kept arguing, begging, pleading. When my cell phone rang, I should have ignored it. But my natural reaction kicked in, I grabbed it, answered it and gave him the chance to prove to me how good he was on his bike by darting out into the street right into the path of an SUV.”
