His Real Father (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Salonen, Debra

  The only real positive in Joe’s life was his blossoming relationship with Brandon, who seemed genuinely enamored of all aspects of moviemaking.

  Joe didn’t delude himself into believing that Brandon’s friendly attitude would remain the same if… when he learned the questions surrounding his paternity, but Joe was prepared to deal with that later. He hoped right after his mother’s wedding.

  Which was a week from today. The last Saturday in June.

  “Tomorrow’s Father’s Day,” Lisa said.

  “I know. Gunny is spending the weekend with his kids, which is why Mom decided to use the time to take Brandon shopping for a new suit. They’ll spend the night in the city and come home tomorrow.”

  Joe unrolled a few sheets of paper towels then set the roll back on the floor between them. He aimed his bottle of blue liquid at another section of glass. “I was a little surprised that he agreed to go with her. Patrick and I used to hate shopping for clothes. Was it because she let him drive her car?”

  “Probably. But Brandon’s a good shopper. We never had a lot of money, so I used to drag him all over to find the best deals.”

  He didn’t like thinking about Brandon and Lisa struggling on a budget while he was spending big bucks to fit the Hollywood image of a successful moviemaker. He remembered hearing someone say that in the film industry fame is measured in cat years. If you’re out of the limelight for a year or two…

  “Joe.”

  “Huh?” he said, looking over to see Lisa staring at him. “Sorry. I was daydreaming.”

  “I asked if you feel bad because we haven’t told him yet? This is another Hallmark moment you’re missing.”

  Her question irked him. It somehow implied that he had a choice in the matter. “You set the agenda and I’ve chosen to go along with it because I’m the outsider here. You know Brandon better than I do.”

  She wiped a section of glass with short, focused movements. The sunlight coming through the window made her skin luminous. “And I appreciate that. I guess I’m feeling ambivalent because as a child I hated this holiday. I just knew that somewhere in the world some little girl was going out to brunch with her daddy or walking hand in hand with him at the zoo and my dad never even bothered to call.”

  Joe heard the tremor in her voice and knew how badly she missed having a relationship with her father. “I don’t think Brandon would like me holding his hand at the zoo.”

  She picked up the window cleaner and lifted it as if she intended to pitch it at him. Instead, she shook her head and said, “No, I don’t think he would.”

  Joe put out his hand for the bottle. He held it to the window and sprayed. “Maybe it’s different with guys,” he said. “I used to send my dad a card if I thought about it, but I can’t remember doing anything big unless Mom set it up.”

  He wadded up a few sheets of paper towel and tackled the wet area with a vengeance. When he was done, he stepped back to look for streaks. The bright red blossoms from the geraniums in the window box seemed to invite the outside in. Wouldn’t his dad have hated all this light and beauty? Joe’s Place was supposed to be the kind of place where people escaped from the real world to forget their problems, not to celebrate the sunny cheer of the day.

  “Do you know what’s stupid? I still send my dad a card every year. I never hear back from him, but I always waste half an hour picking out just the right sentiment—not too mushy, not too generic, then write a few words and send it off. Dumb, huh?”

  He turned to look at her. The sunlight made her hair glisten like gold. Her brow was wrinkled in a way that made Joe want to hold her and kiss away her sadness. But he didn’t dare. Not until they had things settled with Brandon.

  As if reading his mind, Lisa looked at him and said, “Maybe we should discuss what we’re going to tell Brandon. I’m afraid that the closer he gets to you, the more of a shock it’s going to be.”

  “You’re the one who suggested we wait until Mom is safely on her honeymoon,” Joe said testily. “If you’d prefer I take out an ad in the paper, just say the word.”

  “Are you two fighting again?” a voice asked.

  Lisa gave a little peep and spun around. Constance was standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

  “Mom,” Lisa exclaimed. She gave Joe a look that told him she hadn’t discussed the matter of Brandon’s paternity with her mother. “What are you doing here?”

  Constance was dressed in her nurse’s uniform, but with the top two buttons open. “I thought I’d stop on the way home and say goodbye. I won’t see you until next Friday.”

  Joe blinked in surprise. He hadn’t heard any mention of a trip. “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “Back east to meet Jerry’s family,” she answered with a grimace. “His mother and two of his brothers live in Massachusetts. I’m pretty sure they’ll hate me on sight.” She made a motion of nonchalance with her hand. “But at least I’m getting a free trip out of it.”

  Lisa put down her cleaning supplies and walked across the room to where her mother was standing. “Stop thinking so negatively. They’re going to love you. Just like Jerry does.”

  Constance seemed a bit tearful and uncertain. “You really think he loves me?”

  Considering the friction Joe usually detected between mother and daughter, he was surprised when Lisa put her arm around her mother’s shoulder. “He wouldn’t be taking you home to meet his family if he didn’t. Now, quit worrying.”

  Constance gave a wobbly smile. “I’ll try.”

  “Good. Are your bags packed?”

  She nodded. To Joe, Constance said, “Lisa let me raid her closet in case they’re ultraconservative people. Jerry likes what he calls my avant-garde look, but I didn’t think bold colors and leather were a good idea.”

  Joe grinned. If Lisa’s closet was empty, did that mean she had nothing to wear? His grin faltered when it dawned on him that with Constance leaving town Lisa would be alone until Maureen and Brandon returned.

  Oh, God.

  “Huh?” Joe said, realizing the women were looking at him and expecting an answer. “Sorry. My mind was wandering.” No. Don’t go there. Only an idiot would play with that kind of fire.

  Lisa was frowning. She couldn’t read his mind. Right?

  “Mom asked if you wanted to use her car while she’s gone.”

  “That’s very generous of you, Constance. I’d appreciate it. Every time I suggest renting a car, Mom has a fit. She says I should walk more.”

  “I’ll leave the key on the kitchen counter,” Constance said. She waved goodbye then turned to leave. Lisa walked her out. They were talking too softly for Joe to catch their words. He did notice that Constance was grinning, while Lisa was not.

  After Lisa returned to the barroom, Joe asked, “Do you think this thing with Jerry is serious? Your mother seems pretty invested, emotionally.”

  Lisa stopped in the middle of the room and looked up at the new skylights. Her smile told him she liked what she saw. “To tell you the truth, I’ve never seen Mom act like this. She’s giddy and nervous when they’re together, and she pouts when he doesn’t call.

  “In the past, Mom set the rules when she was dating a man. Jerry doesn’t appear to play by her rules, and believe it or not, Mom seems to be okay with that.”

  “Maybe it’s love.”

  Lisa met Joe’s gaze. She took a breath and slowly let it out before answering. “Maybe it is.”

  Joe had never known Lisa to cut her mother any slack when it came to men. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt oddly heartened by Lisa’s admission.

  “What time does Martin come in?” he asked. Since the bulk of the remodeling was done, they’d re-opened the bar. His good intentions were warring with the image of a romantic dinner—steaks on the grill, a little music, some candles.

  “He isn’t working tonight.”

  “What?” His fantasy evaporated.

  Lisa returned to the window, snatching a scrap of paper towel as she passe
d by him. Rubbing at a speck too small for Joe to see, she told him, “He asked for the night off, which, frankly, has me a little worried. Have you noticed how quiet Martin’s been lately? I think something’s bothering him.”

  “Martin broods. It’s part of his image.” When she made a scoffing sound, he added, “Hey, I’ve known him since I was a little kid. He’s always been inscrutable.”

  Lisa gave him a look that told him he was a fool. “Your mother read me a review of one of your movies a few years ago. I can’t remember which, but it said you had a ‘keen eye for the details of life’ or something to that effect.”

  Joe felt his cheeks heat up. “What’s your point?”

  “Maybe those details only apply to life outside of Worthington.”

  Joe took a step toward her. “You’re a brat. You know that?”

  She laughed saucily. “That sounds like something your brother would have said.” Sobering, she added, “Martin is your friend and he’s in pain. I didn’t think he’d open up to me, but you’re a guy. The least you could do is ask.”

  Joe watched her walk through the swinging doors into the kitchen. She was right. He’d been so wrapped up in his personal dilemma—and filming his movie—he hadn’t been paying attention to those closest to him.

  But it wasn’t too late to change. Starting with Lisa.

  LISA LOOKED AT THE CLOCK and stifled a yawn. Less than an hour to go. Thank God. It had been a long, busy night. Joe had proven to be a big help. Instead of conducting interviews, he’d filled in wherever needed—waiter, dishwasher, cashier and doorman.

  She glanced sideways. He was perched on a stool behind the bar, one elbow resting on the counter below the mirror as he attempted to read the operational manual for the new beer glass washer that she’d had installed. The light was poor in that part of the bar, but she didn’t invite him to come closer to the cash register. Lisa needed the space to help diffuse the sexual tension between them.

  Only an idiot would try to pretend the edgy little tingle she felt every time Joe touched her didn’t exist. Lisa wasn’t dumb. Nor was she blind to the fact that her son was out of town tonight. With Brandon and Maureen on their shopping trip and Constance winging it east, Joe and Lisa had two empty houses to choose from if they wanted to make up for lost time.

  If.

  “You look pooped,” Joe said, taking her by surprise. “Do you want me to close up so you can go home?”

  She hopped off her stool and stretched. “No, thanks. I was just thinking about Brandon. I told him not to pick out anything too expensive, but your mother spoils him.”

  “She was that way with me and Patrick, too,” Joe said with a smile. “Dad would have a fit every August when we went shopping for school clothes. He’d say, ‘It stays hot around here until October, whatcha spending all that money for now?’”

  Lisa could picture it. Joe’s father had been generous to her in many ways, but he was a conservative spender. She was one of the few employees who stuck around for long at Joe’s Place. Except for Martin.

  Martin’s relationship with the family had always seemed a given and she honestly hadn’t questioned it until now.

  Before she could bring up the subject, the door crashed open and four bodies stumbled in, laughing and tripping over each other’s feet.

  “College boys,” Lisa told Joe. “Good money, but not without a few…um, challenges.”

  “Leeesaaaa,” the tallest of the four—a Nordic god minus the armor—sang. “Hey, baby, I’m here,” he said, breaking free of the cluster to stagger to the bar.

  Lisa could feel Joe’s questioning gaze and fought to control her blush. Surely he didn’t think she had anything going with a boy only a few years older than her son. “Hi, Jeremy. Taking a little break before summer school starts?”

  His answer was lost in the hubbub created when his friends joined him, pushing and jostling to get the best stool. To Joe, she said, “I call them the Js.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ll see.”

  The four were so loud and obnoxious it took nearly five minutes for them to quiet down enough that Lisa could take their orders. “What will it be tonight, boys? Beer with a water chaser?”

  The four looked at each other and roared as if she were a real comedian. Lisa sensed heads turning. Her other patrons had no doubt been enjoying the quiet. Lisa had no control over who entered her establishment, but she could set a limit on how unruly they became.

  Jeremy shushed his friends then asked, solemnly, “Did you miss us?”

  “Absolutely,” Lisa said, crossing her fingers out of sight behind the bar. “I actually thought you might have gone home for the summer.” She kept her tone friendly, but added seriously, “You know I can’t serve you unless you have a designated driver.”

  A round-faced boy with spiky hair that was already showing evidence of male-pattern baldness raised his hand. “I stopped drinking two bars ago, Lisa. I’m fine. Honest.”

  “Good for you, Jordon. How ’bout a mocha?”

  “Cool.”

  Lisa looked at Joe and said, “Will you get Jeremy, Josh and Jacob their beers while I go to the kitchen for Jordon’s mocha?”

  Joe’s lips twitched and he mouthed, “The Js.” Aloud, he said, “Three brewskies coming up.”

  The young men laughed at the passé term.

  Lisa spotted Joe’s annoyed frown, but kept walking. She had to quit looking at Joe, wondering if what she’d seen in his eyes when he’d learned that her mother was going out of town meant what she thought it did. She’d purposely not mentioned the trip because she hadn’t wanted him to get the wrong idea.

  She told herself they would be foolish to even consider “hooking up,” as her college-student friends called it. But, damn, if her traitorous body wasn’t tingling all over at the prospect.

  When she returned with a large paper cup filled with the mocha, she had to go looking for the Js. They were grouped around the pool table, which was off to one side of the building.

  Good place for them. Was that Joe’s idea or theirs? she wondered.

  “Thanks, Lisa. We paid the new guy,” Jordon said, taking the hot drink from her. The other three pushed colored balls around the green felt, missing more often than they connected, which seemed to delight them no end.

  After checking on the patrons at her other tables, Lisa was on her way back to the bar when a hand suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her up against a solid chest. The muscles showed the kind of toning that came from years of water polo.

  “I’ve been missing you, Lisa,” Jeremy said. The Ses came out as a “sh” sound that made her name sound like Leesha.

  “Oh, that’s sweet, Jeremy,” she said, trying to extricate herself from his clammy grip.

  His right arm plopped across her shoulder—dead weight that almost made her stumble. She stuck the damp, smelly bar rag that she used to wipe off the empty tables directly under his nose.

  His head fell back and his grip faltered, but before Lisa could step away, he jumped sideways as if plucked from behind by the hand of God.

  “What the f—?”

  Jeremy’s rude epithet was cut short when a fist bunched the material of his Hooters T-shirt right under his throat and squeezed.

  “Don’t ever…put your hands…on Lisa…again.” Joe’s sentence was slow and emphatic.

  Jeremy’s eyes went wide for a moment, and then narrowed belligerently. He tried to take a swing at Joe, but Lisa blocked the punch. On a less-impaired day, Jeremy could have done bodily harm to any opponent.

  “Js,” she said, giving them her sternest mother look. “Don’t do anything stupid that gets you banned from the bar. You know the rules. No fighting.”

  “Tell that to him. He started it,” Jeremy whined.

  Joe dropped his hold and stepped back, but she could tell by the set of his shoulders he didn’t trust his opponent not to try something foolish.

  “Well, boys,” Lisa said, “that’s the thing. Wh
en Joe is working, he gets to set the rules.”

  Lisa wasn’t sure which rule they’d broken. A brand new one that said no male customer was allowed to touch her?

  The four Js looked at each other and seemed to come to some kind of silent consensus. “We’re out of here,” one of them said. They turned to leave, Jeremy in the lead. Only Jordan lingered. “Sorry about that, Lisa,” he said, chin down.

  She gave him a one-arm hug. “Don’t sweat it. Joe and I were your age once. Sometimes the beer gets away from you. Come back next weekend and I’ll buy you one. No, wait,” she corrected herself. “We’re closed next weekend for Joe’s mother’s wedding.”

  Jordon looked momentarily surprised then made a motion that seemed to say he understood. “You’re that Joe,” he said looking at the man beside her. “Now, I get it. Mrs. Kelly told us that you and Lisa had a thing for each other.” He smiled broadly. “That’ll make Jeremy feel better. He’d never poach another guy’s turf.”

  He saluted them both with his paper cup then hurried after his friends.

  “Turf?” Joe repeated.

  “They’re kids,” Lisa said, purposely trying to keep the conversation’s focus off anything personal. “And scaring away customers is not the best way to run a business. You could prove to be a liability.”

  He took her arm in a much gentler manner, but his touch was far more meaningful than Jeremy’s had been. “Or, perhaps, I’m an underutilized asset.”

  “What does that mean? Do you really think I couldn’t defend myself from a tipsy twenty-one-year-old?”

  “Not at all. You’re obviously a pro at deflecting unwanted attention. I’m talking about us.”

  “Which us is that, Joe? Old friends? Co-workers? Near-miss in-laws?”

  “How ’bout the us that feels an undeniable attraction for each other?”

  Joe ran his finger down the side of her face and tilted her chin upward so they were looking directly into each other’s eyes. She captured his hand and held it away from her skin. She couldn’t think when he was touching her. She dropped his hand and walked to the bar.