Loving You

by Maureen Child

  He’d sneaked past her defenses. She hadn’t seen him coming. Hadn’t thought she would respond as, no doubt, countless women before her had responded to him. And now that she had, she didn’t have a clue what to do about it.

  “What do you think, Tasha?”

  “Hmm?” She blinked, disoriented as if waking up from a nap, and shifted a glance at first Jonas, then Nick. “Think about what?”

  “Jonas asked me to take him to the father-son camp-out next month.”

  Oh, Jonas. Her heart ached for the little boy who so wanted to be just like the other guys. He’d never had a father-son weekend. The closest he ever came was tagging along with Alex and his father. And though Mr. Medina was a sweetheart and worked hard to treat Jonas just as he did his own son, she knew Jonas felt the difference. He’d been on the outside looking in for too long. Like a kid with his nose pressed against a toy store window, he watched while everyone else played.

  She knew he wanted it, but damn it, she wished he’d said something to her first. Maybe she could have talked him out of it. But as she looked into the boy’s big brown eyes, she knew that was a forlorn hope.

  “Jonas…”

  “It’d be great, Tasha,” the boy said, words racing out of his mouth in a wild attempt to keep her from popping his balloon. “Alex and his dad are going again and we could camp next to them and—”

  “Jonas, I’m sure Mr. Medina would let you go with him and Alex again.”

  His features twisted into a mask of stubbornness she recognized. When his heart and mind were set on something, Jonas had a head like a rock. “I don’t want to go with them. I want to go with my own dad.” He looked at Nick. “You’ll go, won’t you?”

  Tasha looked at him, too. She waited for him to say something. To remind the boy that none of them knew for sure that Nick was his father. That they shouldn’t take the relationship for granted. But he didn’t say any of that. He looked as though he wanted to sprint for the door, but to give him his due, he met Jonas’s hopeful, nearly desperate gaze calmly.

  “I, uh—”

  “We don’t have to stay the whole weekend,” Jonas said, trying to make it easy.

  “Jonas,” Tasha put in, wanting to help and not sure what to do about it.

  “It’s not that,” Nick said, and flicked a quick look at Tasha before turning back to face Jonas. “But a father-son thing is pretty important and—”

  “I know,” Jonas interrupted him, and there was just the slightest shine of panic in his eyes now. Tasha’s heart ached for him. It was as if he knew and feared he was losing ground, so he scrambled even harder. “That’s why I want to go. ’Cause you’re my dad and I want everybody to know and—”

  “I know, but—” Nick started.

  “Jonas,” Tasha interrupted them both. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe if she’d let Nick ramble a few more minutes, he might have gotten around to a little truth telling. To try to ease the boy down from the cloud of dreams he’d been drifting on for days. But she’d never know that now. “Jonas, why don’t you let Nick think about it for a day or two? I’m sure he’s got to check to see if he’s free or not.”

  Disappointment turned Jonas’s spine into a noodle. He slumped bonelessly in his chair, and for a minute Tasha was afraid he’d just ooze right down onto the floor. Then he found an outlet. He kicked one sneakered foot against the table leg and rattled the dishes.

  “Jonas…”

  “I’ll go.”

  “All right!” Instantly Jonas shot straight up in his chair and punched one fist high in victory. “That’s so cool. It’s gonna be great. You’ll see. You’ll like it and we can cook over a fire and…”

  While Jonas rambled excitedly, Nick shifted a look at Tasha and shrugged helplessly.

  Tasha bit down hard on her bottom lip to keep from saying something she didn’t want Jonas to hear. Didn’t Nick see that the more time he gave the boy, the more it would tear Jonas apart when Nick’s visits ended? Didn’t he know that by facing the truth of the situation, no matter what it was, he would be doing Jonas a favor? Didn’t he care?

  Facing the truth wouldn’t be easy for her, either. If Nick was Jonas’s father, then she would lose him to a man she wasn’t sure deserved him. If Nick wasn’t his father, then she still stood a good chance of losing this child of her heart to the state. But even she couldn’t let the situation drift endlessly.

  When she thought she could talk without shrieking, she interrupted the boy’s excited monologue, “You’re finished eating, Jonas, so go up and do your homework.”

  “Aw, Tasha.…” He flipped his hair back out of his eyes and that one little action sparked something inside her.

  “And tomorrow, I’m cutting your hair.”

  He looked horrified. “No way.”

  “You’re going blind.”

  “I can see okay.”

  “Not for long.”

  Jonas blew out an impatient breath. “Tasha, I gotta talk to Nick about the camp-out and—”

  But Nick was standing up, shaking his head. “A smart man knows when not to argue with a woman,” he said. “We’ll talk later. Right now, you go on and do your homework.”

  “Aw … all right.” Disgusted but moving, Jonas slid out of his chair and started for the stairs. Feet shuffling, head down and shaking in disgust, he muttered, “Sometimes being a kid just sucks.”

  “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Nick said softly.

  But Tasha hardly noticed—she was just too stunned. Hurt warred with disbelief and ballooned in her chest until it was painful just to breathe. Tears burned at the backs of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall, keeping them at bay by sheer force of will.

  She listened to Jonas’s footsteps as he slogged up the stairs like a beaten man. Every step hammered against her heart. Every stomp echoed in her mind. She was losing him. Little by little, she was losing the boy who meant everything to her.

  And she didn’t know how to stop this runaway train headed for disaster. Upstairs, Jonas’s bedroom door slammed, and she winced at the crash.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Tasha stared at Nick and shook her head. He didn’t get it. He didn’t even know what had just happened. What he’d done. Damn it. She was hurt and he was clueless. So not a good sign.

  “Tasha?”

  She swallowed past the knot lodged in her throat and forced air into her lungs. God, she wanted to tell him. But admitting anything now would just give him more power over her. Once he knew he could hurt her, he’d do it again. People always did. It was human nature. So she lied. Something she’d been doing too much of since meeting him. “Nothing.”

  “You’re a lousy liar. Have I mentioned that before?”

  She fixed him with a glare that should have curled his hair. “And as an expert, you would know, right?” Tasha stood up, too, and walked toward the living room. Toward the front door, which she would open and wait for Nick to walk through.

  “Where’d that come from?” He caught up with her in a few long steps. He grabbed her upper arm and dragged her to a stop before she could get across the room. His brown eyes narrowed on her and he had the nerve, she thought, to look confused. And insulted.

  Tasha yanked free of his grip and pushed one hand through her hair, dragging her nails along her scalp. Just to distract herself from the lingering pain inside. Keeping her voice low to make sure Jonas didn’t overhear anything, she said, “I don’t want to talk about it. Just never mind.”

  “Oh, no.” He laughed shortly, but there was no humor in the quiet, harsh sound. “None of that female mind game shit.” He flicked a glance past her toward the staircase, then looked back into her eyes again. “Say what you mean and don’t give me that old ‘if you don’t know then I’m not going to tell you’ crap.”

  Tasha swung her hair back and glared up at him. She wanted to scream at him and couldn’t. Her voice came in a low hush that scraped her throat and fed her pain. “I don’t have to say anything to you. Ex
cept good-bye.”

  She took another step, but he grabbed her arm again. Tasha blew out a frustrated breath and stared down at his hand on her arm until he let her go again.

  “I just want to know what the hell I did wrong. How’d we go from Leave It to Beaver to The Twilight Zone in less than ten seconds?”

  “You watched too much TV as a kid.”

  “Too much now, too. Not the point.”

  “What is the point, then?”

  “I want to know what the hell set you off. What bug, exactly, crawled up your ass and died?”

  “That was charming,” she said with a tight smile. “Thanks.”

  “Fine. I’m a pig with no manners. Just curiosity. So talk.”

  “You don’t get it at all, do you?”

  He snorted a laugh and glanced around the empty room as if looking for witnesses to speak up on his behalf. “I think I’ve made that pretty clear, yeah.”

  “You told Jonas what to do.”

  “What?”

  “You told him to go do his homework.”

  He stared at her for a long minute. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “And he did it.”

  “This is nuts.” He shook his head and watched her through wide, confused eyes. “You’re still talking in circles. Cut the female mind warp and just say what’s buggin’ you.”

  “You are bugging me.” She poked at his chest with her index finger. “You and your ‘I’m so great and every kid’s dream of a dad’ attitude.”

  “I’m nobody’s idea of a great dad. Never said I was.”

  “You didn’t have to. You roll in here with your Corvette and your ‘Hi, sport.’” She swaggered a little as she said that, in a ludicrous imitation of him, just for effect. “Who can compete with that? Not me,” she said, walking a slow circle around him. Crossing her arms over her chest, she kept talking, and as she did, she felt that knot in her throat tighten until she was pretty sure she was about to choke. Yet she couldn’t stop. Couldn’t let it go. “You’re going to a father-son thing with him. I can’t give him that. I’m just Tasha. Old news. You’re the football hero come to save the day.” She circled in front of him and unfolded her arms long enough to poke his chest again, then kept walking. “And then you tell him to do homework and he does it. He took an order from you and fought it from me. He did what you told him to do.” Behind him now, she gave him a shove that didn’t budge him an inch.

  She wanted to push him out of the house. Out of their lives. Out of Jonas’s heart and out of her mind. But Nick Candellano was damn near immovable. He was staking a claim on her world and he didn’t even really want it. He was doing it because it was easy. God, the hardest thing she’d ever done was keep her world together. And without even trying, he was destroying it.

  “Just to be clear,” Nick asked, his voice low and dangerous, “I told him to do his homework and I’m the devil?” He turned around to look at her again.

  “Yes,” she blurted. “No. Hell.”

  “Well, as long as you’re sure…”

  Tasha’s gaze snapped up to his and she saw the smile in his dark brown eyes.

  But she wasn’t appeased. It didn’t help. His charm was just a balm on an open wound. And the pain squeezed her chest until she heard herself whisper, “You’re taking him from me.” Oh God, just saying the words tore at her heart and made her eyes burn with tears that shimmered up from her soul. “A piece at a time, you’re taking him,” she continued brokenly, “and I can’t fight it. I don’t know how. Or even if I should.”

  A single tear trickled from the corner of her eye and arrowed straight into Nick’s heart. Jesus Christ. Watching a strong woman cry was enough to kill a man. Knowing he’d caused it just hammered the nails into his coffin.

  “Christ, Tasha,” he said, keeping his voice low, soft, in a sad attempt at soothing her. “I’m not trying to take him from you. I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

  She angrily swiped the tear away with the back of her hand. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

  “I’ve never been in this position before,” Nick said, and knew it for a gigantic understatement. “And I’m not even sure what the right thing is anymore.” She opened her mouth to say something, but he hurried on and cut her off before she could get started. “All I know for sure is, I’ve let down a lot of people over the years. And I don’t want Jonas added to the list.”

  She swallowed hard. “I’m glad of that, anyway. But don’t you see? You’re only here because you might be his dad. What if you’re not? What then?”

  “I don’t know.” He reached for her, dropping both hands onto her shoulders. So narrow, he thought. So fragile to be carrying so many burdens. “And you’re right. Jonas was the first reason I came here. But now, he’s not the only reason.”

  “Don’t,” she said softly, but her heart wasn’t in it. Her eyes darkened despite the haunting shadow of pain and he read a quickening there that set off sparks inside him.

  “Tasha…” He slid his hands up and down her arms, rubbing, caressing, soothing. What the hell was he supposed to say? He wasn’t interested in her? He didn’t want her so much he could hardly breathe? He was sorry for fucking up her life? He had a feeling she wouldn’t want to hear any of it anyway.

  Damn it, there was no win here. If he was Jonas’s father, then he and Tasha—not to mention the long-missing Mimi—were going to have to decide where to go from here, together. If he wasn’t Jonas’s father, then this was all for nothing. He wouldn’t have any reason to come back here. To spend time with the boy.

  With Tasha.

  He looked down into those grass green eyes and suddenly couldn’t stand the idea of never seeing her again.

  When had that happened?

  When had Tasha become important enough to really matter?

  “What?” she whispered as he continued to stare at her.

  “I’m just…” He shook his head, then shifted his hands, sliding up the length of her arms, along her shoulders, and up to cup her face in his palms. “You keep surprising me, Tasha,” he said.

  She reached up and covered his hands with her own. She tried to pull his hands away, but he wouldn’t budge. The warmth of her skin beneath his palms was something he didn’t want to surrender just yet.

  “Nick…”

  “You know when I kissed you before?”

  “It was a mistake.” She swallowed hard, her gaze locked with his. Her eyes shone in the lamplight and dazzled him with a beauty that was soul deep.

  “It was too short,” he said, lowering his head slowly, inch by inch, toward hers. “Too quick, too soft, too good to not repeat.”

  Her breath came fast and furious and as he dipped lower, closer, her breath fanned his cheeks and fueled the flames within. His thumbs stroked her damp cheekbones, sliding across her smooth, pale skin with a touch so light, it was almost the promise of a touch.

  “I think we need to try it again,” he murmured when his mouth was just a kiss away from hers.

  “I can’t think when you’re this close,” she admitted.

  Nick smiled. “Good.”

  Then he claimed her mouth with his, lips moving over hers at first gently, tenderly. But as she leaned into him, he gave himself up to the want within and took her mouth in a plundering kiss that ravaged him and left her gasping.

  He parted her lips with his tongue, sweeping into her warmth, exploring, discovering her secrets. Her hands came up slowly to wrap around his neck and she held on, her hands fisting in his hair.

  He shifted slightly, changing his grip on her, wrapping his arms around her middle and clutching her close. Close enough that the thundering of her heart echoed within him. He felt each clamoring breath rushing in and out of her lungs. Each small sigh that whispered from the back of her throat.

  She leaned into him closely, and the hard tips of her nipples pressed into his body and set him on fire.

  He lavished attention on her mouth. The mouth that had
driven him to distraction from the moment they’d met. And it wasn’t enough. He needed more.

  He needed all.

  But a moment later, when she pulled her head back, breaking the kiss and gulping in air like a woman about to drown, he knew he wouldn’t be getting it. Not tonight, anyway.

  “Jonas,” she whispered the warning brokenly, leaning her forehead against his chest.

  He rested his chin on top of her head and fought to steady his own heartbeat. When he thought he could talk without whimpering, Nick tried for humor, saying, “Let him get his own girl.”

  “You have to go.” She let go of him, her hands sliding down his arms and then drifting away from him completely, severing a touch that he hadn’t known would be so … compelling.

  He felt empty, damn it. Without her hands on him, he felt empty.

  And that scared the shit out of him.

  “Yeah,” he said, and took one long step backward. Better to keep a safe distance between them. A light-year or two should do the trick. “I’d better go. Now.”

  He headed for the front door before he could change his mind, throw logic and Tasha to the floor, and say to hell with doing the right thing. He damn sure hoped she wouldn’t notice that he was walking a little bowlegged. Hell, he hadn’t hurt this bad since high school.

  He didn’t look back. Didn’t trust himself to look into those eyes of hers and still be able to leave. Didn’t want to know if she was as torn up and on edge as he was. Didn’t think he could leave if he knew she wanted him as bad as he wanted her.

  Jesus.

  He walked out the front door and down the steps, tipping his face up into the cold rain. He scraped his hair back and let the drops hammer against his skin like icy slaps from heaven.

  But it was going to have to rain a hell of a lot harder to put out the fire Tasha had started.

  * * *

  From the top of the stairs Jonas watched Tasha close the front door and fall back against it like she was too weak to stand up or something. He moved out of the light and stepped farther into the shadows, so she wouldn’t know he’d seen her kissing Nick.