by Judy Duarte
Nick found the thought both disturbing and comforting, which was too weird to contemplate. He sure as hell didn’t need another woman around on a day-to-day basis, pointing out his flaws. Reminding him why he wasn’t husband material.
He snatched the box of saltines from the cupboard, wondering if stale crackers would do her any good, but he took them to her, anyway.
“Thanks.” She set the whole box in her lap while she dug inside, then popped a cracker in her mouth. The color had returned to her cheeks. And she appeared to have recovered.
He watched as she took another cracker from the pack. Hell, he couldn’t let her fill up on those damn things. “I’ll take a quick shower, then we’re going to eat a real meal.”
“That sounds good to me.” She smiled at him, and a rush of heat slammed into his gut. She looked damn good sitting cross-legged on his bed, her hair tousled from sleep.
He grumbled under his breath. What was wrong with him? The poor woman had been sick, passed out from lack of food, and here he was, salivating over the sight of her sitting amidst rumpled sheets.
Maybe he just needed to get laid. Needed a warm, willing woman—not Hailey, mind you—but another woman who would get his mind off sex and off Harry’s daughter. Only trouble was, he couldn’t conjure an image that appealed to him. Other than Hailey. The way she’d looked that night in the candlelit bedroom. Hell, even the way she looked right now.
There she sat, eating crackers in his bed. Probably scattering crumbs all over the sheets.
And he didn’t mind a bit.
Trying to get his horny thoughts back on track, back on the shower he’d intended to take, Nick said, “I’ll only be a minute. Then it’s your turn.”
She merely popped another cracker in her mouth and nodded, so he disappeared behind the bathroom door and turned the tap on full blast.
While he waited for the water to heat, he scanned the small room. She’d left her mark here, too. The sink had been scrubbed, the mirror shined. And two blue towels—in almost new condition—hung neatly on the rack. Hell, even the shower curtain didn’t appear grungy. How’d she do that?
Better not ask. Not if he didn’t want to get an earful of how sloppy he was.
Nick slipped off his shirt and sweatpants, then climbed into the shower, relished the spray of hot water that splashed on his back. And when he’d finished, he snatched one of the towels she’d hung on the rack and dried off.
Now for a quick shave. He searched the counter where he usually kept his razor and found it bare, other than a new bar of soap sitting on a small glass bowl she’d gotten from the kitchen.
Where the heck had she hidden his shaving gear? He didn’t have to look too hard. She’d stashed it in the mirrored medicine chest. Right where it belonged, he supposed, but he’d always kept things out in the open. Where he could easily find them.
He glanced in the mirror, now fogged by steam, and swiped his hand across the glass to clear a spot to see. Intent on getting Hailey to the diner to feed her, he tried to hurry, without cutting himself. And when he’d finished, he dried his face with the damp towel, saving the one still hanging on the rack for her.
Then he slapped on a dab of aftershave and looked in the mirror. Not bad.
And no blood.
He draped the used towel over the rack so it could dry, then went out to tell Hailey the bathroom was all hers.
Hailey waited for her turn to shower, hoping that this nasty bout of morning sickness had passed. Gosh, she’d even fainted.
How long would these pregnancy symptoms last? And, more important, how long could she keep her condition a secret from Nick?
Thank goodness he’d bought her story about being light-headed from lack of food. Although, she really was dying to get something in her tummy. Something that would stay put.
“It’s all yours,” he said, when he came out of the bathroom.
“Thanks. I’ll make it quick.” She went to the closet, where she’d hung the few things she’d packed, and pulled out a pair of slacks and a sweater to wear for the day. But before she could enter the bathroom, the phone rang. It might not be any of her business, but she paused long enough to hear Nick say, “How’s he doing this morning?”
The call was about Harry. Her father.
And as much as she wanted a shower and a meal, she waited to hear the news.
“Good,” Nick said. “When are they going to do it?”
Hailey wasn’t able to decipher much from Nick’s side of the conversation, only enough to know the surgery had been scheduled.
“I’m glad your sons are with you. Tell them I said hello.”
When he hung up, he told her, “They’re going to do the bypass tomorrow morning.”
She nodded. “That’s good, I guess.”
“Yeah,” was all he said.
Worry was etched on his brow, and she sympathized. Harry was like a dad to him. Losing his friend and mentor would hurt. It would hurt her, too, although she’d always thought she’d lost her father years ago.
But she’d been given a second chance at a relationship with Harry. If she wanted it. And if he lived through the surgery. Worry niggled at her, as well as guilt. God wouldn’t be so cruel as to open the door for a reunion, a reconciliation, then slam it shut. Would He?
Harry would live. He had to.
“In the past few years bypass surgery has become routine, hasn’t it?” That’s what Hailey had heard, anyway, and she hoped her words would ease Nick’s mind. Ease her own, too, she supposed.
“Harry’s heart was damaged when he suffered the heart attack. And he has some other complications, too. That’s what made them keep him in the hospital and put off the surgery until now.”
Without a thought, other than to offer support, Hailey strode toward the rugged detective and gave him a hug. In spite of her intention to offer friendship and compassion, his clean, musky scent enveloped her, offering her something in return. Something she instinctively wanted to hold on to.
Nick slid his hand along her back in a comforting gesture. An appreciative gesture. Or was it more like a lover’s caress?
He held her close, as though never wanting to let her go. As though needing her comfort, her presence. Which, she supposed, was understandable.
Harry was all Nick had. All she had, too. Except for the baby.
Again she pondered telling Nick she was pregnant, but held her tongue. The time wasn’t right. But would the time ever be right to tell a man who didn’t want children that he was about to become a father?
“Well,” Hailey said, wanting to break the connection before the embrace turned into something more. Something intimate. And revealing. “I’d better get into the shower.”
When he released her and stepped away, she went into the bathroom, closed the door and turned the lock.
Standing in the small room, she tried to regroup. She had to get her scattered emotions under control. There was a lot going on in her life right now. The stuff with her father, his surgery. The baby. The darn hormones that were wreaking havoc on her body.
She glanced at the mirror, saw the smudge where a hand had wiped the glass. Then she spotted the blue towel Nick had used to dry off and then draped haphazardly on the rack. She’d meant for it to be displayed, not used.
She blew out a sigh. Even the remaining towel hung skewed and uneven. She clicked her tongue and straightened them both, then reached into the cupboard under the sink for another towel.
A woman would have her hands full trying to keep that man’s house clean, to make his house a home.
And Hailey wasn’t up to the task.
Nick took Hailey to Auntie Em’s, a mom-and-pop-style diner that offered down-home food and sported a Wizard of Oz decor.
“I don’t normally like cutesy restaurants with a theme,” Nick said, “but this is close to my building and the food is good.”
“I think it’s darling.” Hailey scanned the farmhouse-type setting, the wooden tables with red-a
nd-white-checkered tablecloths, each one boasting a salt and pepper shaker made of Depression-era glass and a Mason jar full of fresh daisies in the center.
A mural on one wall depicted Dorothy and her friends walking along the yellow-brick road with the Emerald City in the distance. Instead of birds, several winged monkeys flew in a cloudy sky.
The waitresses all wore blue gingham dresses with white cotton aprons and tennis shoes covered in sparkling red stones that looked like rubies. Even the busboy, a tall, lanky teenager, was costumed as a farmhand in denim overalls with a red kerchief in the rear pocket.
The hostess, a matronly woman wearing a name tag saying Auntie Em, seated them at a table for two near the window that allowed them a view of the busy street. “Can I get you some coffee?”
“Yeah,” Nick said. “Black.”
“I’ll have tea,” Hailey said.
The woman brought their drinks, then left them alone with an old-fashioned menu tucked in a plastic cover, resembling those used in the thirties and forties.
Hailey smiled at the names of the daily breakfast specials: the Scarecrow Scramble, Toto’s Towering Hotcakes, the Wizard’s Waffle and Auntie Em’s Ham and Egg Surprise.
“They make great homemade biscuits and gravy,” Nick said. “Now that’s a meal that will stick with you all day long.”
Ugh. Even the thought of bacon or sausage drippings brought back a rush of nausea. “No, thanks. I can imagine that gravy sticking to my arteries instead of my ribs.”
“Their sausage is great, too,” Nick added, obviously wanting to fill her up. And out.
But again his suggestions only made her stomach act up. “I think I’ll have the Kansas Twister.”
“What’s that?” He scanned the menu then scrunched his nose. “A fruit smoothie? That isn’t going to stay with you very long.”
It would probably stay with her longer than the sausage or gravy would, she suspected. “I like eating healthy. But I am hungry, so maybe I’ll have a homemade biscuit, too.”
Nick made a grunt-like sound, one she suspected men had been making since the cave-dwelling days. But he didn’t argue.
The strawberry-banana-yogurt drink hit the spot, and Hailey drank every last drop. Funny thing about this morning sickness. It seemed to come and go at will. It sure didn’t act like the intestinal flu, even though it felt the same when it struck with a vengeance.
When the waitress handed Nick the check and he paid the bill at the front counter, Hailey assumed they’d go home. Or head to the hospital to see Harry.
Nick opened the restaurant door for her. “Let’s get my car and go to Balboa Park.”
She paused in the doorway. “You don’t need to feel guilty about going to work and doing your job.”
“I’m not feeling guilty,” he said, although she suspected he was, at least a bit. “I don’t have to go to work today. And I don’t feel like sitting at home and watching TV.”
She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “You still don’t need to entertain me.”
“You might not come back to San Diego for a long time.” He took her arm and ushered her down the street. “Besides, I think you could use some fresh air.”
“Maybe so,” she said, walking alongside him as they headed back to the underground parking garage where he’d left his Jeep Wrangler.
Ten minutes later they arrived at Balboa Park, a cultural center that bordered the San Diego Zoo and provided more than a thousand acres of lush gardens and museums.
Struck with a feeling of déjà vu, Hailey realized she’d been here before. A long time ago.
As they climbed from the Jeep, she spotted small train tracks and a choo-choo that offered rides for children. And next to the ticket booth sat an old-fashioned carousel. The memory, bright and clear, came flooding back. Harry had brought her here when she was five.
She’d ridden that merry-go-round. And later that afternoon he’d bought her a souvenir, a little carousel pony that she’d once cherished. A figurine that now rested in a dark box, under her bed and out of sight.
Her steps must have slowed, because Nick asked, “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” And everything.
Nick took her hand, gave it a squeeze. “Are you sick again?”
“No, I’m okay.” She flashed him a smile, tried to hide the emotion swirling in her chest. But her heart constricted, and a tear slipped down her face.
“The heck you are.” Nick brushed his thumb across her cheek, wiping the telltale sign from her face. His gesture softened her heart and her resolve to keep her memories locked away.
“It’s just that I’ve been here before.” She pointed to the merry-go-round. “With Harry.”
He nodded as though he understood. And maybe he did. “Want to walk closer?”
“Yes, I’d like that.” She wasn’t sure whether either of them had actually made the first move, but her hand slipped easily into his.
As they neared the carousel, the military-band-style music grew louder, luring Hailey like a fascinated child to a menagerie of animals and ponies, each one unique and colorful. And like the little girl she once had been, she longed to buy a ticket and climb on the prettiest pony. To reach for the brass ring.
Years ago she’d held Harry’s hand as they walked toward the carousel. Now she held Nick’s.
As they neared the ticket booth, excitement niggled at her, and she squeezed his hand. “I’d like to ride.”
“The carousel?” He chuckled. “Really?”
“Do you mind?”
“Not at all. I’ll buy you a ticket.”
“Get us both one. I want you to ride with me.”
The goofy look he gave her was priceless.
Was she crazy? Nick wasn’t going to get on a kiddie ride. But as Hailey looked at him with those big blue eyes, his macho resolve turned to mush. “How about if I stand next to you?”
She flashed him a smile that lit her face, just like any of the other kids clamoring for a ride on the antique ponies. And just like some of the doting dads and grandpas, he followed her onto the carousel.
She chose a white horse that had an ornate red saddle trimmed in blue and yellow, then shot him a silly smile that touched his heart in a sappy way. Made him feel things he’d never felt. A part of him wanted to make a mad dash and escape, another wanted him to hang on to the moment.
“I’m going to try and get the brass ring,” she said, eyes glowing and showing him a side of her he’d never seen.
People, mostly kids and parents, began to fill the carousel, taking their places on giraffes, lions and bears, but Nick felt strangely alone. Just him and Hailey, in a surreal world of their own.
And when she flashed him another of those Meg Ryan smiles, he couldn’t help himself. He placed a hand on the back of her neck, under the silky tresses of hair, and pulled her toward him for a kiss.
Her mouth opened, maybe initially in surprise, but she reached for his cheek, drew him near, allowing a kiss he shouldn’t have instigated. A kiss that shouldn’t taste as sweet as it did. A kiss that nearly knocked him to his knees.
Fortunately, the damn carousel began to move, and the soul-stirring kiss ended as soon as it began.
He thought about apologizing but quickly reconsidered. Hell, what was he sorry for? Feeling attracted to a pretty woman? Liking the way she felt in his arms, the way he felt when he kissed her? Heck, he was only human.
As the pony moved up and down and the carousel moved round and round, Hailey tried to grab the brass ring, coming close once but missing.
On the second time around, someone else had nabbed it before she got a chance. And he noticed a flash of disappointment cross her face.
The rest of the ride was unremarkable, although Nick sensed a sadness in Hailey, as though snagging that brass ring meant a lot more to her than it should have. As though it symbolized something more than a child’s game.
A grand prize in the game of life, maybe.
Funny th
ing, but Nick knew how she felt.
The brass ring had always seemed just out of his reach, too.
Chapter Ten
Even with a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants attitude, Nick managed to take Hailey to many of the touristy spots in San Diego, packing it all into one trip, since he wasn’t sure how much longer she would be in town.
He expected that giving her a tour of the city would be a wasted, pain-in-the-butt day, yet it wasn’t. And the truth was he enjoyed seeing San Diego through Hailey’s eyes. He enjoyed being with her, too. She’d relaxed around him, and they’d grown easy together, sharing a camaraderie, it seemed.
As the sun slid low in the afternoon sky, they strolled through Old Town, peeking in some shop windows, wandering inside other stores.
Nick slipped an arm around her, and he wasn’t sure why. He’d never been the touchy/feely type, not in public, anyway. But the move had been completely unplanned on his part—subconscious, actually. And for some reason, with Hailey at his side, it felt right.
She didn’t tense or pull away, which told him that she’d accepted the change in their relationship, whatever it was. Maybe the lazy day they’d spent together had caused them to let down their guards. To become friends.
Or was it more than that?
He didn’t want to even go there. Not now. It was better just to enjoy her company—while it lasted.
Up ahead, mariachis played for the people who ate at Don Pablo’s, a quaint, thatched-roof restaurant that provided patio dining around a stone-crafted fountain. Bright-red bougainvilleas in big clay pots graced the perimeter, giving diners who sat at wrought-iron tables an aura of Old Mexico.
The scent of spicy beef fajitas sizzling in a cast-iron skillet on a nearby table mingled with the breeze that blew in from the sea.
“Want to sit for a while?” Nick asked. “Maybe have some chips and guacamole?”
“Sure.” She offered him a bright-eyed smile. “I’d love to listen to the music.”
They chose a table near the rustic stone fountain, and before they knew it, a basket of warm tortilla chips as well as a bowl of salsa fresca sat before them.
“Can I get you a drink?” a waitress in a white peasant blouse and a colorful skirt asked.
