Tears fell. She brushed them away, but not before he saw.
“Don’t,” he warned. “I would do it again.”
“I know you would.”
“But I’m not a hero.” He slowed the truck as they neared the turn to Essie’s. “I’m a recovering alcoholic. I’ve never been good at being there for the people who needed me. I’ve let down more people than I can count.”
She wanted to tell him he wasn’t like his father. She wanted to assure him that she didn’t believe he would ever harm his son. But what did she know about Marcus Palermo?
Nothing really.
She took that back. She knew that he was gentle with his son, cared about his family and was strong enough to carry her when she couldn’t carry herself. She closed her eyes, remembering those moments in his arms. She’d felt safe.
He’d made her feel protected. More than once.
He’d also made her feel more. More unsure. More terrified of her own emotions. More drawn to him than she had ever been drawn to any man.
He parked under the portico at the side of Essie’s house and told her to slide across and get out on the driver’s side. She did, knowing this time he wouldn’t carry her. He didn’t even reach for her hand. Instead, he hurried up the steps and opened the door that led through the breakfast room.
“Are you hungry?” he asked as they entered the kitchen.
“A little.”
He opened the fridge. “There’s leftover potato soup.”
She took the container from his hands. Strong hands. The thought unnerved her. She moved away from him, finding a bowl and then pulling out another for him. He didn’t object, so she filled both bowls and heated them in the microwave.
They didn’t sit down to eat. They stood side by side in the kitchen with just the light over the sink and the rain pouring down outside. Somewhere a clock ticked away the seconds. They were too close. The moment felt companionable and more. She avoided looking at him, afraid of what she would see in his eyes and afraid of what he would see in hers. She was afraid of him, but it wasn’t the kind of fear that raised her hackles or made her worry for her safety.
Marcus finished his soup and poured two glasses of iced tea. He set hers on the counter behind her and carried his to the breakfast room, leaving her alone. After a few minutes she followed him, knowing he had walked away to be alone with his thoughts, with the past.
She had forced him to think back on the abuse. Unsettled by that, she stepped close, needing to comfort him. He took a deep breath, and as she slid an arm around his waist, he stiffened. She wasn’t going to let him get away with that. If he was going to be Oliver’s dad, he needed to learn to embrace, to hug, to touch.
Little boys might be snips, snails and puppy dog tails, but they still needed warmth and they needed affection. Marcus had obviously gotten the short end of those two things as a child.
Slowly he moved until they were facing each other. He took a breath and relaxed, and she wrapped her arms tighter, holding him close. She wouldn’t lie to herself and say this was her way of comforting a man who had been hurt. The man in her arms wasn’t that child anymore. He leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers.
Rain trickled down the windows and thunder rumbled in the distance. Slowly the moment continued to shift and change until it became something that stole her breath. He moved and she looked up, searching his dark eyes as he changed position, lowering his mouth to capture hers.
Softly his lips brushed hers, the touch so light it almost didn’t happen. She sighed into the kiss and then his lips met hers a little more insistently. A little more desperately.
Their hands remained intertwined. He pulled a hand loose to sweep it across her cheek, holding her there for the sweet exploration of his kiss. His touch was soft, gentle and sure.
Slowly he drew back, closing his eyes and murmuring her name. His fingers loosened and he let go of her hand.
“I have to go.” He took a cautious step back. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m not going to do it again.”
“No?” She disliked that it came out as a question. It should have been a definite no. They wouldn’t do this again.
“My days of playing the field are over,” he explained, answering the question that shouldn’t have been a question. “And I’m the last thing you need in your life.”
“Thank you for explaining that.” She could have told him it was too late. Sammy had put them in each other’s lives. For better or worse.
His mouth kicked up at the corner, and an almost amused look flickered through his eyes. “You’re welcome.”
And then he left. As a parting shot, she should have said something like You got that right, buddy. You’re the last thing I need in my life.
Instead, she stood at the window watching him drive away and arguing all the reasons he was right and insisting her sanity had taken a momentary leave of absence. Tomorrow would be different. She’d be sane again. It wouldn’t be dark and rainy. They wouldn’t both be in this vulnerable place.
The connection would be broken, she assured herself. She sighed, her forehead pushed against the cool glass of the window as the rain continued to fall. It was dark. So dark out there in the country with no streetlights, no houses. She’d never felt so alone.
Maybe that was the place Marcus had touched tonight, her loneliness. Maybe they’d both been lonely and it had drawn them to each other.
Whatever. She could convince herself of anything, but the truth was she liked him. He wasn’t at all the person she’d expected. And he was dangerous to her heart. Dangerous to her convictions.
Her first priority had to be Oliver. His future. His happiness and safety.
She’d spent her childhood being the victim of her single mother’s poor choices. Oliver wasn’t going to be the victim of her poor choices. Throughout her childhood, Lissa had been an afterthought. Her safety had been an afterthought. Her mother’s relationships, the men, had come first.
As attractive as Marcus Palermo might be, Lissa wouldn’t get sidetracked. Not when the man she found herself attracted to was the same man who could take Oliver from her.
Forever.
Chapter Ten
“Wake up. We’ve got to roll.”
The words penetrated Marcus’s sleep-fogged brain. He covered his head with a pillow. “Go away, Alex.”
He brought his arm up and peeked at his watch. Five in the morning. His alarm would go off in an hour. Since he hadn’t slept much last night, he wasn’t even thinking about getting up an hour early with his brother, who obviously believed the saying about the early bird getting the worm.
“Out of bed.”
“I don’t like worms,” Marcus muttered. “You go get all you want.”
“Town’s flooding, you slug. Get up. We have to get stuff out of the café before the creek reaches it.”
That got his attention. “My house.”
“Yeah, I know. If you hurry, we can make a loop and go by your place before we head to town.” The door closed.
Marcus could still hear the rain. As he headed down the hall a few minutes later, he could also hear Marissa and Alex in the kitchen. They were whispering, and even without seeing, he knew they were cuddled up and talking all sweet to each other. He couldn’t decide whether to be disgusted by the display or find it amusing and cute.
He was disgusted. That was what he decided when he walked into the kitchen and they were standing close, arms around each other.
“Too early in the morning to subject me to this.” He poured himself a cup of coffee. “I thought we were in a hurry.”
“We are in a hurry.” Alex filled a thermos with coffee.
“We should check on Essie.” Marcus sat down to pull on boots. When he looked up, Alex and Marissa were sharing a look. “Did I say something funny?”
�
��No, not at all.” Smirking, Alex tossed him a granola bar. “Let’s go.”
Marcus headed out the door ahead of his brother, shrugging into a jacket as he went. He pushed his hat down on his head as he hurried across the yard to Alex’s truck. It took his twin a few minutes longer, standing in the doorway of the house kissing his wife.
Jealousy. It came out of nowhere. Marcus had never been jealous of his brother. Well, maybe once or twice, when school had come easy to Alex. Or when he’d managed to talk his way through anger instead of fighting with their father. But when it came to women, no, he’d never been envious. The two of them wanted different things. Alex had a more settled personality. He wanted the minivan and family vacations.
Marcus had been telling himself for as long as he could remember that he didn’t want those things. It was easier to shut himself off than to open up and be rejected. Or to open up and think about hurting someone.
When Alex finally climbed behind the wheel of the truck, Marcus had settled his emotions. He refilled his insulated mug with coffee from the thermos and gave a quick shake of his head at the silly grin on his brother’s face.
“What?” Alex grinned because he knew. And he wasn’t at all ashamed.
“I’m happy for you,” Marcus admitted. He glanced out the window and sipped his coffee.
“Thanks, because I’m pretty happy for myself. We’re having a baby.”
Just like that, everything changed. The hot coffee scalded when Marcus spilled it on his shirt. He sat up a little straighter and gave Alex a quick look to see if the expression on his face matched the tone.
“A baby.” He laughed a little, thinking about his brother as a dad.
“Well, it isn’t like you don’t have one of your own.”
That changed the mood in the truck. Oliver had been a baby. His baby. He hadn’t known that a kid with his DNA was living on the same planet, breathing the same Texas air, learning to walk and talk. “Yeah, I do have a son of my own.”
“It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it’s a lot. But he’s a good kid.”
“So you’ll keep him?”
“He’s my son, Alex. Not a puppy I found on the side of the road.” Marcus shot his brother a look. “Is there really a question about that? I don’t know how I’m going to do this, but I can’t imagine him not being here with us. We’re his family.”
“I know that. But a few days ago, I think you weren’t as crazy about the idea. Also, there’s Lissa to consider. He’s been with her for a while.”
“I know all of that.”
“I never thought this would be our lives.” Alex turned onto the main road, but he kept the speed down and dodged standing water on the pavement. “We were all a pretty dysfunctional mess. But we’ve kind of pulled ourselves out of that pit.”
Marcus shrugged it off. “Yeah, I guess we have. Thank God and Essie.”
They pulled up to Essie’s a few minutes later. Their aunt stood on the front porch with Lissa. The two were scanning the horizon, where there wasn’t much to see but more clouds and more rain coming. Essie raised her coffee cup in greeting.
“Well?” she asked as they walked up the steps to the porch.
“We’re heading to my place and then to town,” Marcus said. “We thought we’d check on you all before we head that way.”
“Check on me, my foot.” Essie gave him a long look. “I don’t guess you could load up an entire café in that truck of yours.”
“I wish we could,” Marcus replied. “But we can get anything out that you want.”
“My pictures on the walls and the register. I guess that’s about all we’ll be able to take out. I’m hoping that even if the water gets up in the building, it won’t take everything.”
“We’ll stack tables and chairs against the far wall in the kitchen.” Alex gave their aunt a quick hug. “And we’ll say some prayers.”
“More than that, we cannot do.” Essie sighed. “I’ve been praying for a few days now, and it doesn’t look like the good Lord is bringing this rain to a stop anytime soon. I know He could. And I know for some reason He isn’t. But I also know we’ll make it through this the way we’ve made it through everything else life has thrown at us.”
There was a point to that little sermon. Marcus figured it had something to do with rain and prayer, and something to do with his life. Essie pursed her lips and gave him that dead-on serious look of hers. Yeah, the message was for him. He’d make it through this. The way he’d made it through so many things. Actually, when it came right down to it, finding out he had a son wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
As if on cue, the door opened and Oliver hurried out to join them. He saw Marcus and a big grin split his face. A moment later arms were wrapped around his waist.
Marcus patted the boy on the back and then made unfortunate eye contact with Lissa. Her look prodded him to give more of himself. He hugged his son to him and then scooped him up in his arms.
“What are you doing up this early?” Marcus asked Oliver.
“I heard Lissa and Aunt Essie talking.” Marcus guessed his shock must have shown on his face. “She said I can call her Aunt Essie because she’s an aunt and I need another aunt.”
“That makes good sense,” Marcus agreed.
Oliver wiggled to get down and Marcus put him back on his feet. “Aunt Essie said she can’t open the café today. Because of flooding. But she’s going to make pancakes. She said pancakes were always your favorite. They’re mine, too. That must be because we have the same last name. Marcus Palermo and Oliver Palermo. I think that’s cool.”
“Yeah, that is cool.” Marcus had to agree. Who wouldn’t?
He met Lissa’s gaze over the top of her coffee cup as she took a sip. Why hadn’t he thought about Oliver’s last name? He had just assumed Sammy had given him her last name. But standing there in front of him, as proud as he could be, was Marcus’s flesh and blood. And he had his last name.
He’d gone through times in life when he hadn’t been too proud of the name. He had thought about changing it so he wouldn’t have that connection with his father. But now, Oliver having his last name changed everything.
The last thing he wanted was for his son to be ashamed of who he was. He also didn’t want Oliver to ever be ashamed to have him for a father.
“We should get started.” Alex gave Marcus a nudge with his elbow. “I know you want to get down to your place, but we might not be able to make it over the low-water bridge that crosses the dry creek.”
“Yeah, I was thinking the same. We do need to be heading on to town. We can do more good there than at my place.” Marcus put a hand on Oliver’s shoulder. “Take care of the ladies, okay?”
“I thought I would go with you. I might be able to help.” Lissa, he realized, had on rubber boots and a raincoat.
“I don’t think so,” Marcus started. She froze him with those blue eyes of hers.
“I make my own decisions, Marcus.”
Okay, he got it. She didn’t want him to kiss her one night and tell her what to do the next. But the anger. He didn’t get that.
He put his hands up in surrender. “Fine. Do you want us to take you to the clinic? I’m assuming Oliver is staying with Essie?”
“Yes, Oliver is staying with me,” Essie responded as she placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I am leaving the search and rescue to you younger folk.”
“Yes, you can drop me at the clinic at the shelter.” Lissa was coming down the stairs. “I want to help Doc. And I want to be there with Pearl. They are still searching for her mother.”
“Hold down the fort, Oliver.” Marcus touched his son’s shoulder. They had to tell him—soon, when things calmed down and they could spend time talking things out.
“I will. I’m pretty good at that. I build forts at Grammy Jane’s ho
use.”
“I bet you are.” He grinned at the boy’s exuberance.
Oliver pointed at him, a huge smile flashing across his little face. “I made you smile. Aunt Essie said you almost never laugh. Everyone laughs. Don’t they, Marcus?”
Marcus shot his aunt a look. They ought to be more careful what they say, because Oliver was obviously pretty good at eavesdropping.
“Yeah, everyone laughs.” Marcus ruffled his son’s hair. “Go on inside and enjoy those pancakes. Make sure you get bacon.”
“Knock knock.” Oliver looked up at him, waiting.
“What?”
“Knock knock. You’re supposed to say ‘who’s there?’”
“Am I really?” Marcus blinked, confused by the way the conversation had turned.
“Say it so we can leave,” Alex prodded.
“Who’s there?” Marcus asked.
“Atch.”
“Atch who?”
“Gesund...” Oliver bit down on his bottom lip. “Gesundhigh.”
Marcus didn’t crack a smile, but he wanted to. “Nope.”
“It was a joke,” Oliver told him.
“Gotta go.” Marcus headed down the steps with Alex chuckling behind him.
“That kid is going to get the best of you.” Alex spoke as they were driving toward Bluebonnet.
“He is the best of me.” Marcus didn’t mean to be emotional about it, but he was late to the fatherhood party. He’d ridden some bulls, made some money, bought the farm he’d always wanted. But the kid, he was everything and then some.
He’d forgotten Lissa. She hurried after them, grabbing the door when he started to get in. He moved back and motioned her inside the cab of the truck.
“You’re sure you want to skip your place?” Alex asked as they headed down the road.
“I moved what was important. And the stuff upstairs should be safe.”
“Paintings,” Alex told Lissa. He ignored Marcus’s warning look. “You saw the ones downstairs, right?”
The Rancher's Secret Child Page 11
