by Judy Duarte
“A quiet evening sounds good,” she said. “It’s been a trying day.”
It had. And Nick was ready to unwind. To curl up on the bed and make love to Hailey all night long. Especially since they didn’t have too many more nights together.
Once again, as he thought of putting her on that plane and sending her back to Minnesota, back to that little house in Walden, where the fire flickered in the hearth, where the pot roast juices simmered in the oven, where the scent of lavender permeated the sheets and teased a guy’s senses…
Nick swore under his breath.
He hadn’t been born into a life like that, hadn’t ever wanted one. Didn’t want one now.
But he suspected letting Hailey go back where she belonged might be a hell of a lot tougher than it should be.
And he really wasn’t looking forward to it.
The city lights mingled with twinkling stars, casting a romantic spell on the patio where Nick and Hailey sat.
Back home, Hailey wouldn’t even consider star-gazing while eating sweet-and-sour pork, fried rice and chicken chow mein by candlelight in early January. But here, in southern California, where the night was a little cool, it was still pleasant.
She had to admit, though, part of the appeal was the handsome detective who sat across from her, fumbling with a pair of chopsticks.
She lifted her fork, twirled it in her hand and smiled. “Want me to get you one of these? They’re much easier to master.”
“Heck, no. The food tastes better this way. Besides,” he said, offering her a cocky smile, “practice makes perfect. And I’m no quitter.”
She didn’t suppose he was. There was so much more to Nick Granger than met the eye, so much he kept locked deep inside. That dark, secretive and pensive nature made him a good cop, she suspected.
He reached for a clump of rice, dropping half of it back onto the paper plate and scattering it over his chow mein.
There was something sweet about the guy, something even her persnickety side couldn’t fault.
She tried to focus on the many reasons why happily-ever-after wasn’t in their future. Why a relationship should be based on more than great sex. Why her child would be better off growing up in a small town, rather than a big city.
But it just didn’t seem to matter tonight, not with the splatter of city lights and sparkling stars decorating a mild winter sky. Not with the candlelight flickering and drawing her into a romantic evening, the likes of which she’d never had before and—more than likely—never would again.
Nick glanced across the table and slid her that crooked grin she could grow used to seeing. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing.” Nothing that matters right now.
He took a swig from a long-neck bottle of beer, his eyes never leaving hers. “Want to talk about it?”
“Talk about nothing?” she asked, still not willing to admit anything was on her mind.
“Or whatever you’re holding back.”
Nope. Not that. Not yet. She wasn’t ready to upset the little raft she drifted upon. The minute she told Nick about the baby, he’d tense. Pull back. Remind her he wasn’t a family man, that he didn’t want kids.
But, if slapped in the face with the reality of a child, would he change his mind?
Did she feel like taking the gamble?
As long as she kept her secret, she still had the option to turn tail and run back to Minnesota, to raise her child without any interference. To find a stepfather who would be the kind of daddy her baby deserved. To create a loving family of her own.
For goodness sake, she’d only known about the pregnancy for a couple of weeks. It was early yet. She hadn’t begun to show, hadn’t even seen a doctor—which reminded her, she had to make an appointment as soon as she got home.
“You’ve got something weighing on your mind,” Nick said. “I can see it in your eyes.”
“I guess I’m just thinking about the future.”
“That’s reasonable, I suppose.”
She placed her fork on her plate. “I’ll be going back to Minnesota soon. Where does that leave us?”
The question seemed to hang in the air, suspended from the stars above, at least for a moment. But she doubted it was because the question hadn’t crossed his mind, too. But like her, she supposed he’d avoided putting it into words.
“We both sort of slipped into this, knowing that there wasn’t any future for us,” he said.
“I know.”
Nick reached across the table, took her hand in his. “You need a home and a family. Not a loner like me.”
Yeah. She did need a home, a husband. A family. But deep inside she wondered if the loner needed her.
No. Not wondered. She knew he needed her, or someone like her. A lover or maybe even a wife. But she also knew better than to try to convince him a happy home was something of value, something everyone needed. She’d tried that one time too many, back when she’d wanted desperately for her mother to appreciate home, hearth and a loving daughter.
Hailey had learned an important lesson back then, one she’d never forget: when the coach wanted a win more than the team did, the game was over before it started.
“I care for you, Hailey. More than I intended to.”
And she cared for him, too. Way more than she expected. Way more than was prudent. “Same here, Nick.”
“I guess we just need to make the best of what we have, here and now.”
He was right, she supposed. And what they did have, a friendship of sorts, was enhanced by an incredible sexual relationship. Temporary, but amazing just the same.
He adjusted the chopsticks and went after another clump of fried rice.
She glanced at her plate, no longer hungry, then looked across the table, saw a grain of rice on his chin and smiled. She leaned forward and brushed it away for him, her fingers snagging on his lightly bristled jaw. And lingering there.
He caught her hand, brought her fingers to his lips and kissed her palm. His gaze, darkened by desire, snagged hers, drawing her into the depths, into him, consuming all her worries and fears—at least for the time being.
Heat pooled low in her belly, as her passion brewed, matching his.
Without words, without needing to use them, he stood and took her hand, leading her into the house.
They left the remainder of their dinner, the paper plates and cartons, on the patio table. They left the future there, too. Outside with the table scraps and litter, out of sight. Out of mind.
Once in the privacy of Nick’s home, they embraced the here and now, their kisses hot, their hands stroking, caressing.
They made love as though it might be their last time, their last chance, which it well could be. And the union was both mind-spinning and bittersweet.
As Hailey held on to Nick, accepting the only love he had to offer, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the best lovemaking she’d ever experienced, the best she probably ever would.
But there was more to life than magic between the sheets.
And Hailey wanted more. Much more than Nick was willing to give.
After Nick gave Hailey his Thomas Brothers’ map to help her navigate around town and directions from the precinct to the hospital, Hailey dropped him off at work.
Then she drove to Oceana General Hospital to see Harry.
Her father.
A warmth settled in her heart, a coziness that had been missing for a very long time.
She entered the lobby, then stopped by the front desk where volunteers waited to point people in the right direction.
“I’ve come to see Harry Logan,” she said. “Is he still in ICU?”
“I’ll check,” a silver-haired woman in a pink smock said. “No, he’s now in Room 314.”
“Thank you.” Hailey started for the elevator, then stopped in front of the gift shop doors. For some reason, she hated to go into Harry’s room empty-handed.
She quickly decided against flowers—the man would probabl
y get a ton. And chocolate—the doctor had probably restricted his diet. And a stuffed animal.
So, why did she linger before that display, caressing a floppy-eared purple bunny and having wistful thoughts of a diapered little cherub with a toothless grin?
She shook off the baby sentiment and continued to shop, settling upon a small, silver picture frame.
After paying the woman behind the counter, she carried her bag to the third floor. When she entered Harry’s room, she saw that Kay sat in the chair beside him.
“Hey,” her father said from his hospital bed, eyes lighting up in recognition.
A smile graced Kay’s face. “Hailey, I’m so glad you came.”
And the truth was Hailey was glad, too.
“Hi,” she said to Harry. And as a second thought, or an attempt to reach out, she added, “Dad.”
His eyes watered and a single tear spilled onto his cheek. He brushed it aside with a beefy hand. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to make things up to you, honey.”
“That’s okay,” she told him, meaning the words, but pleased that he wanted to make things right between them. “I’ve got some making up to do, too.”
“I wish you didn’t have to leave, that you’d consider sticking around longer. Maybe…well, you know.”
She figured he was hoping she’d move to San Diego, take part in their family. “We can renew a relationship without me living next door.”
“Yeah,” the burly old cop said. “I know that. But if you need anything, anything at all, I want you to call me. I’ll be there for you, Hailey. From now on.”
“Thanks, Dad. I really appreciate that.”
And she did.
She’d come to San Diego without expecting anything from Harry. What she’d received was love, warmth and acceptance. And in spite of her determination to remain aloof, on her own, she began to feel like a Logan. Like part of Harry’s family.
But it wasn’t enough. What about her baby?
Would Harry and Kay accept the child, a fatherless little boy or girl, as readily as they accepted Hailey?
She truly believed they would. But she held her tongue, her secret, unsure of how or when to reveal the news. Instead she handed Harry the paper bag. “It’s not much, but I brought you something.”
Her father withdrew the frame, looked at it a bit quizzically, maybe because it still boasted the manufactured photograph of strangers.
“I thought that…well, maybe…I could send you a picture of me. And maybe you could put it up on the mantel.” She shot a glance at Kay. “I mean, if that’s where you keep your photos. And if it’s all right—”
Kay stood and wrapped her arms around Hailey, drew her near with a comforting hug that enveloped her in a scent of springtime. “We’d love to display your photograph with the others, right in front. And if you’ll send us more than one, after you get home, I’ll put them in some new frames and place them throughout the house.”
“Thanks,” Hailey said, her voice threatening to crack. “I’ll do that.”
When I get home.
But for some reason, her little house no longer seemed quite as appealing as it once had. Not if she had to return and raise her baby without a family.
Kay released her, then reached into her purse and withdrew a small notepad and pen. “Here’s our phone number and address. Please call us or come by—anytime—while you’re in town, or after you get home. It doesn’t matter. We’d love to hear from you even if it’s just to chat and let us know how you are.”
“I will. Thanks.” Hailey gave Harry a kiss on the cheek and squeezed his hand. “I’ve got to get going.”
If he suspected that she didn’t have anywhere to go, anything pressing to do, he didn’t mention it.
“Thanks for coming by,” he said. “I’ll see you again, won’t I? Before you leave.”
“Of course you will. I won’t go without saying goodbye.”
Then she slipped out of the hospital room, unsure of any particular destination, but aware of a need to be alone, to think.
She placed a hand in her pocket, felt the folded slip of paper she’d put there. The paper bearing Harry and Kay’s address and phone number.
Once she’d gone through the lobby and out the revolving glass doors, she exhaled a shaky breath.
The time was coming. She’d soon have to make some kind of decision regarding her baby and the announcement of her pregnancy.
As she reached the row of vehicles in which she’d parked the Jeep, she spotted a young couple getting out of their Nissan Sentra. The woman took a toddler out of a car seat in back, while the man removed a stroller from the trunk and set it up.
A darling little boy with dark hair, pudgy cheeks and a happy grin said, “Me want Daddy to push.”
“That’s my boy,” the man said, flashing the woman a pearly white smile.
Hailey couldn’t help but try to imagine Nick at her side, helping her with their little boy, taking an active part in their son’s life.
But he’d told her he didn’t want a family.
And even if he did, what kind of husband and father would he make? He’d never be home. Hailey would be coaching soccer herself on the weekends. And going to parent-teacher conferences and school programs all by herself.
The tears began to stream down her face, and she swiped at them with the back of her hand.
She’d be raising their child alone.
Well, not alone, she realized, glancing at the ten-story hospital behind her.
Harry and Kay might want to play an active role in her baby’s life. Again her hand sought the folded paper in her pocket as though it was a talisman. For the first time, she began to feel a sense of hope. A sense that everything would work out for the best.
Maybe having a loving mother and grandparents would be enough for her baby.
She hoped so.
Because that’s all she could provide, all she could count on.
Chapter Thirteen
Nick called Hailey and told her he’d be late coming home. A lead in a new case had struck pay dirt, and he and his partner had to hit the streets.
“Don’t wait up for me,” he said.
“I won’t.”
Still, disappointment settled around her. She’d picked up groceries and cooked a meal, nothing special. Just a meat loaf and baked potatoes. Fresh green beans and almonds. A fruit salad with a lemon yogurt dressing.
Okay, so she’d wanted to surprise him with a nice dinner. It had been a dumb thing to do, anyway, because she suspected Nick’s idea of a good meal was probably fast food and take-out.
“Are you going to be able to find something to eat?” he asked.
She glanced at the pot of green beans on the stove, the cloverleaf rolls she’d intended to pop in the oven as soon as the meat and potatoes were done. “I’ll manage to find something.”
“And don’t worry about coming to get me,” he added. “I’ll catch a ride home with my partner.”
“All right.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
This was the kind of disappointment she could expect, if she and Nick were married.
Married? To Nick? What a silly notion. That was the kind of senseless fantasy little girls dreamed up when they played with their Barbie and Ken dolls on the bedroom floor.
She scanned the apartment, which had remained tidy after she’d cleaned, other than the towels Nick continued to mess up in the bathroom. What was so tough about keeping them hanging evenly?
His disregard for neatness irritated her some, but she merely straightened the towels each time he took a shower or used the bathroom.
She slipped her hand into the pocket of her jeans and withdrew the folded paper Kay had given her. She fingered it like a lucky rabbit’s foot. For some reason it seemed like a tangible piece of evidence that she belonged. That she had someone who cared about her. That she was part of a family.
“Don’t worry if I don’t come home at all tonight,�
� Nick said.
“I won’t,” she lied, knowing she would, even though she really didn’t have any right to worry, since it wasn’t her place. But she’d watched enough television shows and movies about cops and detectives to realize the dangers that lurked in the city after the law-abiding citizens went to sleep. And just knowing that Nick would be out on the streets at that time stirred her fears, made them rise to the surface. Other things rose to the surface, too. Heart-touching things she had no business contemplating.
“Take care of yourself,” he said.
“You, too.”
The line was silent for a while, as though there were things that still needed to be said, as though they both clung to some lame reason to stay connected.
Or maybe that was just her overactive, romantic imagination, wishing they had a bond that would last.
Either way, he was the first to say goodbye.
And for some stupid reason, she held on to the receiver longer than necessary.
When the annoying beep-beep-beep sounded, alerting her to the dead connection, she hung up and dialed the number Kay had given her. The older woman answered on the third ring.
“Hi, Kay. It’s me, Hailey.”
“Well, hello, dear.”
That was Hailey’s cue to say something, to respond, to tell Kay why she called. Instead she held the receiver, her lips frozen in silence like a stage-struck understudy.
Nope. Not over the phone. Some things needed to be said in person.
“Would it be all right if I came by to see you?” Hailey asked, then quickly interjected, “Not tonight, of course. But maybe tomorrow?”
“Certainly. What time would you like to stop by?”
After agreeing upon ten o’clock the next morning and getting some verbal directions to further explain the address she’d already been given, Hailey told Kay goodbye and hung up the phone.
Alone again.
But not for long. She had a family.
