If she was going to dream, she thought with a sad smile, why not dream the impossible?
A key scraped in the lock, then the back door swung open. She smelled the hamburgers first, then the faint hint of after-shave. It was spicy, masculine. Of course, her own floral scent would smell masculine on him. It was something about him, something so essentially male. Even the rose-colored T-shirt he wore today looked as macho on him as black leather and studs would on other men.
He set the food out and, indulging only in the smallest of talk, they ate. When she finished, Faith kicked her shoes off, pulled her feet onto the couch and yawned. “You know, you don’t have to stay here all afternoon. I’m sure you have things to do.”
He shook his head. “Can’t think of a one.”
“How about finding a place to live? Michael and Michelle will be back from their honeymoon in a week and a half, and I doubt they’ll appreciate his big brother bunking in their living room.”
“I’ve got a place in mind.” His grin was as charming and self-assured as any she’d ever seen, but she wasn’t charmed. Maybe it was because of that self-assurance, or maybe it was the glint in his eye, but she had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly which place he had in mind: hers.
And there was a part of her that liked the idea so very much.
“I’m not marrying you,” she said adamantly.
“Did I ask you again?”
“No. I’m just making it clear that if you think you can move out of Michael’s apartment into my house, you’re wrong. I’m letting you be a part of Amelia Rose’s life, but that’s all. So if that’s why you’re delaying house-hunting, don’t bother.”
He sat at the opposite end of the sofa, studying her with clear amusement. “You know the one word I’ve heard others apply to you most often? Sweet. ‘Sweet Faith. She’s so sweet, such a sweetheart.’ You know, I don’t believe you’ve been sweet to me yet.”
She tried not to share his amusement, but the corners of her mouth twitched anyway until she managed a firm scowl. “I was sweet to you last February, and look where it got me.”
“About to get married and give birth. The two biggest days in a woman’s life, and you won’t even have to wait. They’ll come one right after the other.”
“Why won’t you take no for an answer?” she asked a little wearily, and his expression turned as sober as she’d ever seen it.
“I can’t. Why won’t you say yes for an answer?”
She could. She could take the blood test, get the license and let the priest at Sacred Heart perform the ceremony. She could deal with his family’s shock and welcome the pleasure he was convinced they would also feel. She could listen to the gossip as everyone else repeated what, by rights, only she and Nick should know: that they’d had to get married, that he’d married her only because of the baby, that she couldn’t hold on to a man like him.
And knowing that it was true, knowing that he didn’t want her but was willing to settle for her, knowing that he would never love her, that inevitably he would leave her, every day she would die a little inside.
“I can’t, either.” Forcing back the emotion that clogged her throat, she went on. “It doesn’t matter, Nick. Kids are raised in one-parent homes all the time, and they’re perfectly happy.”
“But why should Amelia Rose have to settle for one parent at a time when she can have both? Why should she have to deal with the same stigma of illegitimacy that you grew up with when it’s within your power to change it?”
Guilt made her shift uneasily even as she tried to defend her position. “It wasn’t so bad. Besides, that was a long time ago. Things have changed. People have changed. There are so many unwed mothers these days that no one gives them a second thought.”
“‘No one gives them a second thought,”’ he repeated sarcastically. “So why have you been the prime topic of gossip here in town for the past nine months?” When she made no effort to reply, he went on. “Maybe no one notices elsewhere, but New Hope hasn’t changed. My family hasn’t changed, and I haven’t changed. Every single woman of childbearing age in the whole damned state of Texas can give birth without husbands for all I care, but not to my children.”
Her temper flaring at the possessive my, Faith folded her arms across her chest. “Fine. If it’s so important to you, we’ll get married. Amelia Rose and I will live in my house, and you can live wherever the hell you want, as long as it’s not with us.”
“That’s not a marriage.”
“You’re not looking for a marriage. You’re looking for a suitable way out for your daughter. This is it. You want her to have your name and she’ll have it, but we won’t be stuck in a miserable marriage that we can’t get out of.”
Annoyance, underlaid by bewilderment, flashed across his face. “What makes you so sure that being married to me would make you miserable? I’m not a bad person, Faith. I’ll be the best father Antonio Russo’s son could be. I’d never hurt you. I wouldn’t run around. I would never run out on you.”
And he would never love her. He might like her. He might want her—in the physical sense, at least. He would give her the respect the mother of his child deserved. But he wouldn’t love her. He wouldn’t be committed to her. He wouldn’t have a place in his heart or in his life where she was anything more than Amelia Rose’s mother.
Well, she’d been there before. She’d been taken in by her great-aunt because she was Sally’s daughter. She’d been accepted here in New Hope because she was Lydia’s great-niece. It was a lonely feeling, one that she’d lived with every day of her life for twenty-one years. It had made her feel lost and utterly alone, and she wouldn’t go through that again for anything, not even her precious Amelia Rose.
“I don’t want to argue with you, Nick,” she said wearily and realized that she truly meant it. Under the best of circumstances, arguing was a waste of time. In this case, it was impossibly futile. All he could do was accept her decision, because he wasn’t about to change her mind.
He stared at her for a long time, then made a conscious decision to lighten the mood. “Darlin’, you’ve argued with me from the time I walked through the door last Wednesday. Personally, I think you enjoy it.”
She wadded the trash from her lunch into a tight ball, then started to scoot to the edge of the couch. Standing, he offered his hand, and she took it, letting him pull her to her feet and uncomfortably close.
No, she amended as he slid his arm around her waist, too comfortably close. She shouldn’t let him hold her like this, shouldn’t let herself enjoy it, but she did. She knew it was risky, knew she was vulnerable to him, knew that he could sweep her off her feet as easily now as he had nine months ago. Still, she liked the closeness. She liked feeling the heat from his body, liked hearing the slow, steady cadence of his breathing. She felt sheltered in his arms. Protected. Safe. Even though that was the place where she was really most at risk.
He bent over, his mouth brushing her ear, and she reflexively—naturally—raised her hands to his chest. “You’re right,” he murmured. “We won’t argue anymore. You’ll let me have my way, and I’ll make damned sure you never regret it.”
“We’ve already done that. You’ve had your way, and I’ll never regret it.”
“Yeah, but this time I’ll be sober. This time we’ll make it legal.” His mouth moved closer, his tongue stroking the shape of her ear. “This time we’ll make it last.”
Sweet promises. Sweet lies.
For just a moment her fingers curled, wrapping around the soft folds of his shirt. Then she forced herself to let go, to push against him, to free herself from him. “Look, Nick, I appreciate all this, but I really need some time alone. Please.”
His silence was palpable as one moment slid past, then another. Finally, though, he nodded. “I do have some things to take care of, after all,” he said evenly. “I’ll be back to take you home.”
She nodded, too, then hesitantly offered, “You can stay for dinner... if you want.�
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His smile came slowly—not a grin, not the charming, confident smile that captured all female hearts, but a simple, sweet, genuinely pleased smile that made her breath catch and her knees go weak. “I do,” he said quietly. “I surely do.”
The afternoon sun had warmed the air considerably, almost to the short-sleeves comfort zone, but the breeze blowing out of the west dropped the temperature another few degrees. Still, Nick held rather than wore his jacket, clasped between his hands, dangling between his legs, as he sat on one of the concrete benches in the center of the park.
He hadn’t been to the park in longer than he could remember, not since the last time he’d made it home for the annual Russo Fourth of July picnic. This was the table they always claimed, loading it down with more food than they could even think of eating. They brought lawn chairs for the adults and spread quilts around for the kids. The women talked and took care of the babies, and the men talked and played games with the older kids. When it came time for the fireworks display, everyone gathered together on the blankets, one great mass of bodies.
In the past sixteen years he’d missed far more celebrations than he’d attended, but as of this month, he had missed his last. He would be present for every Christmas and New Year’s, every Easter and Memorial Day, every Fourth of July and Labor Day and, absolutely, for every Thanksgiving. He would make it to every birthday celebration, too, and every anniversary — he and Amelia Rose and somehow, some way, Faith.
He knew she missed having a family of her own, knew in his heart that it was something she had always longed for. She would positively blossom in his own family. They were already fond of her, already protective of her. They would welcome her as one of their own.
If only he could change her mind about his proposal. If only he could make her believe he wanted more than their baby. And if only he could convince her that, for the first time in her life, somebody wanted her, that he wanted her.
The sound of a car door behind him made him turn toward the parking lot. His father was striding across the grass, wearing an overcoat with his usual black trousers and white shirt. Nick couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Antonio in something different—if he ever had. Even at weddings, baptisms and funerals, it was the same, with the simple addition of a coat and tie. It was familiar. Comforting.
“You picked a beautiful day for a visit to the park,” Antonio said as a greeting.
It was a nice day, in spite of the chill. The sun was shining, the sky was intensely blue, and it was easy to believe that winter was leaving and not arriving. “Thanks for coming, Pop.”
His father shrugged. “Gerard can handle the kitchen without me. So... I take it you’re ready to talk about whatever was bothering you last night.”
As Antonio sat down, Nick stood up. He tossed his jacket on the bench, paced a few feet away, then faced his father. “I need to know that — for right now, at least—this will stay between you and me.”
“All right.”
It was that simple, Nick thought with relief and more than a little respect. His father had no idea what kind of secret he was about to be entrusted with, yet he could swear silence that easily—and he would keep his promise. In all his life, Nick had never known his father to break a promise, no matter how important or how insignificant.
Now that Nick had the promise, though, confiding his problems wasn’t so simple. He didn’t want his father to be disappointed with him. He didn’t want to see regret or shame in Antonio’s eyes when he looked at him.
Dismayed, Nick shook his head. “I don’t even know how to say this.”
“Start from the beginning.”
The beginning. That night he knew so little about. The night that had changed so many lives. Taking a deep breath, he followed his father’s advice. “Remember when I came home last February for Mike’s engagement party?”
Antonio nodded.
“Everyone thought I’d gone back to Houston before the party was over, but I didn’t. I spent most of the night here in town. With a woman.” He swallowed hard. “With Faith Harper.”
His father stared at him, his expression totally blank. He must know what was coming, Nick thought regretfully. He had to recognize the significance of what little he’d already heard, but he probably didn’t want to acknowledge it. He wouldn’t want to believe that the self-centered, cold-hearted bastard who had seduced—then abandoned—sweet, innocent Faith was his own son.
He forced himself to go on. “I was drunk, Pop. I woke up in the early dawn, alone in a strange house with one hell of a hangover, and I had to get back to Houston. I didn’t know—didn’t remember anything. Faith found out she was pregnant about the same time she heard that I’d gotten married. No one ever told her that I hadn’t, so she never told me about the baby.”
Antonio slowly got to his feet and looked Nick in the eye. The disappointment was there. The regret and, yeah, the shame. “You’re the father of Faith’s baby.”
“She never told me,” he repeated. “I didn’t find out until last week.”
“You seduced that girl, then went home and forgot about her?” There was anger in his voice, a cold, cutting anger that Nick had never received from anyone in his entire family. It made him feel cold and raw inside.
“No, Pop,” he said, his tone too sarcastic, too shaky. “I forgot about her before I even left her house.”
“You left her to go through this alone? Left her open to ridicule and gossip because of your actions?” Antonio shook his head in disgust. “How could you, Nick? Your mother and I raised you better than that. We taught you better than that.”
Nick paced a few yards away, breathing deeply to stay in control, then turned back. “Pop, I’m not proud of what I did. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk, but I did. I damn well shouldn’t have touched her, but I did that, too. I’m sorry about it, but I can’t change any of it.”
“You’re sorry,” his father repeated. “Sorry you seduced her? Sorry you got her pregnant? Or just sorry you got caught?”
Nick stared at him for a moment, then shook his head. “I’m sorry I don’t remember it. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for what happened afterward, and I’m sorry I didn’t find out sooner. But I’m not sorry that it happened.”
Antonio turned away, walked to the opposite side of the table and stared across the park. There was a parking lot back there, along with one of the two playgrounds in the park. Nick knew his father often brought the grandkids here to play, one at a time, so they could all have a little special time with Grandpa. Was he thinking about bringing Amelia Rose here?
After a long, uncomfortable time, Antonio turned back around and faced Nick, his expression hard and disapproving. “Now that you know, what do you intend to do about it?”
“I moved back.”
“That’s not enough.”
“No,” Nick agreed with a sigh. “It’s not. I asked Faith to marry me.”
“And she said?”
“Something along the line of ‘when hell freezes over.’”
Antonio’s mouth twitched, but he bit back the smile. “Maybe we underestimated young Faith. So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Wear her down. Keep at her until she finds it easier to say yes than no.” He shrugged. “I know it’s hard for her. She’s disappointed. She’s never had anybody, but she had a lot of dreams.” The words he was about to say hurt—he was surprised by how much they hurt—but he forced them out anyway. “I don’t measure up. This whole damned situation doesn’t measure up.”
Finally his father’s attitude turned sympathetic, though whether to him or Faith, Nick couldn’t say. “She had higher hopes for marriage than what you’re offering.”
He nodded.
“Any chance that you can offer more?”
Define “more,” he wanted to say, just to avoid answering, but he knew exactly what his father meant. Was there any chance that he might change a marriage that was—in her mind—for all the wrong reasons
into the sort of marriage she wanted? Was there any chance that a marriage for the sake of their child could become a marriage for their own sakes?
Was there any chance he could come to love her?
It was a hard question to answer, even harder than it had been to admit that he was the dishonorable bastard who had abandoned her. It was hard to look that closely at what he already felt, even harder to consider what he might feel in another week, another month, another year—especially knowing that she might never feel the same. It was damned near impossible to admit, after years of promising himself that he would never fall in love, that he was well on the way to doing exactly that.
And it hurt to admit that she wouldn’t believe him, that she couldn’t believe she was worthy of anyone’s love beside Amelia Rose’s.
“I see,” his father said with a quiet sigh.
“No, Pop, you don’t. Faith is —” He echoed the sigh. “Different.”
“As your mother and I tried to tell you yesterday.” Antonio gave a bemused shake of his head. “Obviously, we were more than a little too late.”
“What I feel for her doesn’t matter—” Like hell it doesn’t. “Because she’s never going to believe it. She’s convinced that I only want to marry her because of Amelia Rose.”
Just as Nick had done only a week ago, his father focused on one particular point. “It’s a girl? My new grandbaby is a girl?”
“She believes so.”
“A girl.” Antonio’s smile was filled with pride. “We have seventeen boys and only seven girls. A new baby girl. Rose after your great-grandmother?”
With faint regret Nick shook his head. “She chose the name herself, probably the very instant she suspected she was pregnant.”
Antonio waved away the regret. “Go on. She’s convinced that you want to marry her only for the sake of my granddaughter. What? She doesn’t believe that’s a good enough reason to marry?”
“You know her background better than I do, Pop. Her father took off before she was born. Her mother gave her away before she was a month old. She was raised by an old woman who knew everything about discipline and nothing about love. She knew from the time she was a baby that her aunt had taken her in only because she had—” how had Faith put it? “—a family duty to do so. Lydia made her feel like a burden, unwanted and unloved.”
Discovered: Daddy Page 21
