All a Man Can Be

by Virginia Kantra

  Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What forecast?”

  “Clear skies, babe.” He smiled at her crookedly. “Nothing but fair winds and smooth sailing from now on.”

  It was raining again. Nicole huddled on the landing outside Mark’s apartment, trying to protect her load of packages as she stabbed at the bell with one finger.

  The door jerked open. She looked down, for Danny, and then up at Mark. He looked so good—strong hands, lean body, hot, dark eyes—that for a moment she forgot the rain and why she had come and simply stood there, drinking in the sight of him.

  He frowned. “You want to come in?”

  Did she…? She swallowed. “Yes.”

  He was barefoot, in a short-sleeved shirt and jeans. She sidled past him, feeling overdressed and ridiculous in her silk blouse with her arms full of offerings. She was trying too hard, and it showed.

  Mark studied her with hooded eyes, her damp hair and her damp blouse and the rain-spotted packages she carried. Nicole felt herself grow warm from embarrassment and because he was looking at her.

  “Can I take something for you?” he asked like a polite host, when what she really wanted was for him to throw her over his shoulder and carry her to the bedroom.

  “Thank you. I brought brownies.” She thrust a foil-covered pan at him. “For dessert.”

  “I like brownies,” he said solemnly.

  If he was laughing at her, she was going to eat them all herself.

  She held out a bag from the Silver Thimble, which carried everything from fine Irish linens and local art to puzzles and games for kids. “This is for Danny.”

  Mark didn’t take it. “Why don’t you give it to him yourself when he gets here?”

  “He’s not here?”

  Mark’s mouth tightened. “Not yet.”

  “Is anything wrong?”

  “Not yet,” Mark repeated. “I know the Wainscotts don’t want to give him up, but short of kidnapping him, there’s nothing they can do.”

  Despite his assurances, he looked so grim she wanted to put her arms around him. But she wasn’t sure that would be wise or even welcome.

  So instead she offered, “I brought you something, too.”

  “You brought me something,” Mark said blankly.

  “Nothing much,” she said hastily. “I was just browsing—” searching, comparing, agonizing for over an hour “—and I thought…I found…”

  He took the bag from her and tore it, exposing the thick hardcover inside. All They Can Be, the title proclaimed, A Guide to Your Child’s Growth and Development.

  He stood there a long time, staring at the book in his hand.

  Oh, dear. What if he was amused? Or worse, offended?

  “I kept the receipt,” she said. “If you don’t like it you can—”

  “This is great.” He turned the book over, studying the jacket. “This is—”

  He met her eyes, and her heart beat faster, but not from nerves anymore, this was—

  “Great,” he said again, and kissed her.

  Nicole sighed and let herself sink into the kiss, let his chest support her and his mouth drive her doubts away. She needed this. She wanted this. She loved—

  A series of knocks rattled the door in its frame.

  Mark broke their kiss. Nicole smoothed her hair and made a grab for her composure. He opened the door.

  Robert Wainscott stood on the landing, his eyes narrowed in his red face. “If you can keep your hands off each other for a minute, perhaps you could take Daniel’s suitcase.”

  Nicole flushed.

  Mark lifted an eyebrow. “Nice to see you, too, Bob.” His gaze dropped. His face gentled. “How’s it going, Danny?”

  The six-year-old edged around the stiff, disapproving figure in the doorway. “Grandpa said you didn’t have a lot of room. Do you have room for me?”

  “Sure, I’ve got a room for you,” Mark said easily, putting a deliberate spin on the words. “Same one as last time. Come on, and I’ll show you.” He stepped close to Robert to take the suitcase and said in a low voice, “I want to talk to you.”

  “I have nothing further to say.”

  “I have plenty.” He plucked the case from the older man’s grasp and walked with Danny down the hall.

  Robert Wainscott watched them go, love and loss and fury in his eyes.

  “He’ll be fine,” Nicole said gently, moved to compassion and well-trained in rescuing sticky social situations. “Mark will take good care of him.”

  “Mark DeLucca never looked out for anyone but himself.” Robert ground the words out. “He only wants my grandson as a means to get his hands on my daughter’s estate. Or didn’t he tell you about Elizabeth’s trust fund?”

  He smiled thinly at Nicole’s shocked face. “I can see he didn’t. Be warned, young lady. DeLucca’s always been motivated by money.” His gaze flicked her up and down. “Although in your case, I suppose there might be other…compensations.”

  “That’s enough.” Mark’s voice was cold and hard as hail. He strolled out of the shadows of the hall, his face dangerous. “I told the judge I was willing to agree to some kind of visitation schedule. But if you ever speak to Nicole or about Nicole again with anything less than respect, I will make it very difficult for you to see your grandson. Do we understand each other?”

  “You can’t stop me from visiting Daniel. I am the executor of his mother’s estate.”

  “And I’m his father.”

  Nicole trembled at the tension between the two men.

  And then Robert turned and left, slamming the door.

  Mark looked suddenly weary. “Gee, that was fun.”

  She thought, The heck with wise, and put her arms around him.

  “You were wonderful,” she said.

  He shook his head against her shoulder. “Danny doesn’t need us at each other’s throats.”

  Danny came down the hall. “Is Grandpa gone? I wanted him to see my room.”

  “He will next time he comes to visit,” Nicole said.

  When I’m not here, she thought.

  The doorbell rang. She tensed.

  “Pizza delivery,” Mark said, and she nodded, relieved and ashamed of her reaction.

  They ate pizza in the kitchen. Danny was happy, Mark was indulgent, and Nicole relaxed.

  “I never get enough pizza,” the boy confided.

  “Well, now you’re going to get too much,” Mark said. “At least until I learn to cook.”

  “I could get you a cookbook,” Nicole said, pulling the foil off the brownies.

  He smiled at her, and she felt warm all over.

  “That reminds me.” She fumbled for the bag from the gift shop. “I brought Danny something.”

  The boy wriggled on his seat. “Cool. What is it?”

  “Open it and find out.”

  He stuck his hand into the bag and drew out a reproduction from a museum collection of reptiles, six inches long and rusty black with white spots.

  “It’s a Mexican beaded lizard. One of only two poisonous lizards in the world,” Nicole offered anxiously.

  Danny beamed. “Awesome.”

  “Pretty smart,” Mark said.

  Did he mean, because she knew the species of lizard? Or did he think she was trying to buy her way into Danny’s affection?

  But when she met his gaze, his eyes were alight with approval. Her heart stuttered and then was still. At peace. Secure in a way she could not remember being secure in all her life.

  “Are you guys going to get mushy?” Danny asked.

  Nicole goggled.

  “Probably,” Mark said. “Not until you’re in bed, though.”

  “Okay.” He helped himself to another brownie.

  “You got a problem with any of that?” Mark asked, not challengingly, but as if he really wanted to know.

  “No.” Danny washed the brownie down with a gulp of milk. “Are you going to sing to me?”

  Mark’s face cracked like an iron ma
sk, and the incandescent tenderness, the vulnerability, the longing that shone through in that moment flooded Nicole’s heart.

  “You want me to sing to you?”

  The boy nodded. “If I go to bed? Please?”

  “Are you making me a deal?”

  Danny nodded again, his expression uncertain.

  Mark cleared his throat. “Yeah, sure. Whenever you say.”

  The boy scrambled from his seat, clutching his lizard. “We could go now.”

  “What’s your hurry?” Mark asked.

  “I like her,” Danny announced, with a sideways glance at Nicole.

  “That’s good,” Mark said. “I like her myself.”

  Nicole smiled.

  Danny nodded, as if he’d just had something confirmed. “Well, if you get mushy a lot, then maybe you’d get married. And then I could stay, and we’d be a real family with a dog and everything.”

  Dogs again. Mark laughed.

  But Nicole’s smile faded and her eyes were troubled.

  Mark came out of Danny’s bedroom cautiously, like Nicole was a sniper waiting to blow his head off.

  Maybe she was. Not a sniper, but the rest of it. Ever since Danny’s not-so-innocent comment, Mark had been waiting for a replay of her declaration on the boat.

  All the more reason for us to examine our expectations before beginning a relationship.

  He had one anxious moment when he returned to the empty living room and figured she had gone. But he followed the sound of running water and found her in the kitchen, doing dishes.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  She gave him a flickering smile over her shoulder. “A couple glasses. I don’t mind.”

  And she really didn’t. That was the amazing thing. He’d never met a woman before who didn’t keep score.

  Gratitude went to his head. He came up behind her and slid his hands around her waist. She was warm and smooth under his palms. Her hair tickled his jaw, and the scent of her perfume mingled with the detergent smell made him crazy. He nuzzled her neck, wondering how quick and how deep Danny slept.

  Nicole sighed and tilted her head to give him better access.

  And then she said the words that for most men ranked right up there with “My mother called” and “Turn your head and cough.”

  “We need to talk,” she said.

  He thought a few words he wouldn’t use with Danny around. But he remembered what his sister said—You don’t ask, you don’t get—and he figured that after Robert Wainscott he owed Nicole something.

  Anyway, she was still here, which was encouraging.

  So he kissed the side of her throat and said, “I’m listening.”

  Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Not here,” she said. “Can we sit down?”

  Not good, he thought.

  “Yeah, sure,” he said.

  He watched as she dried her hands and walked into the living room. She barricaded herself on the far end of the couch, behind a couple of throw pillows. Pete the pike leered down at them from the wall.

  Not good at all.

  Nicole took a deep breath. “I…care about you,” she said to the pillow in her lap.

  Okay. That one was easy.

  “I care about you, too,” Mark said.

  “And because I…care, it’s important to me not to make a mistake in this relationship.”

  “A mistake,” he repeated flatly.

  “Yes. It’s obvious it’s not just my feelings that are at stake here. Danny’s feelings have to be considered, too.”

  “And mine.”

  She bit her lip. “And yours, of course. But Danny’s feelings are more…problematical.”

  Problematical. Big word. If she was getting this out of a book, he was screwed.

  “Danny doesn’t have a problem with us. With you.”

  “Danny barely knows me. It’s a little soon in our relationship to ask him to accept me on faith.”

  Her words poked at Mark’s own fears like fingers pressing a bruise. “Danny barely knows me, either, but he’s accepted me.” He hoped. “Anyway, it’s not like he has a choice. I’m his father.”

  “But I’m not his mother,” Nicole pointed out. “He ought to have a choice about how involved I become in his life.”

  Panic licked along Mark’s nerves. Was Nicole truly worried they were moving too fast for Danny? Or was she using the kid to hide her own reluctance?

  “Look, he likes you. What are you so upset about?”

  “I’m not upset. I’m—” She pressed her lips together on the word; parted them to admit, “I’m scared.”

  Oh, hell.

  “Is this about Wainscott?” he demanded.

  She blinked. “What?”

  “I knew you’d be like this when you found out about the trust fund. That’s why I didn’t tell you.” He resented having to defend himself, resented having to explain. But he did it anyway. Only for her. Only because he…cared. “For your information, Wainscott set up that trust himself for Danny’s education. I don’t get a penny. I don’t want a penny.”

  Her eyes shone. With tears? “This isn’t about money!”

  Fear and frustration churned inside him. “Then tell me, please, what the hell it is about. Because I’m damned if I know.”

  Her hands twisted in her lap. “It’s not about you at all. It’s about me. I’m afraid there’s something wrong with me. With my judgment.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you.” She was perfect. Why didn’t she see that? “It was those guys you dated.” He reached out and stilled her hands with his. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Her fingers tightened gratefully. But she said, “I know you don’t want to. And I trust you, I do. I just don’t trust myself yet.”

  “Why not? You’re smart. You work hard. You read books. You believe in people. Why the hell won’t you believe in yourself?”

  “I’ve made mistakes.”

  “So you learn from them and move on.”

  But Nicole—hopeful, determined Nicole—shook her head.

  “What if I haven’t learned? Knowing why I made stupid choices doesn’t guarantee I won’t go on making them. Sometimes I think understanding simply allows me to excuse my own behavior.” She raised her gaze to his. “I want love, Mark. I want a family. Maybe I even want a dog. What if I’m grabbing at what I want without stopping to consider if it’s a mistake?”

  He had an opening there. He recognized it later. But he blew it.

  It was that damn word again. Mistake.

  Sweet God, he was tired of being everybody’s mistake.

  Just once he’d like to be somebody’s white knight. Somebody’s Captain America. The best thing that ever happened to…somebody.

  Right. Like that would ever happen.

  “Is that what you think I am? Another mistake?”

  Her mouth dropped open. “No! No. But I’m worried that we might be. And this time I’m not the only one who would get hurt.”

  His heart turned to stone in his chest.

  He dropped her hands. “Well, isn’t that just great. I can’t make you promises because you won’t believe them. I can’t make you guarantees because I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow or six months from now or twenty years down the road. So what can I do? What do you want from me?”

  She picked at the pillow in her lap. “I just want to know everything will be all right,” she whispered.

  He stood. He’d had too many disappointments in his own life to lie.

  “That’s something else I can’t tell you,” he said, and walked away.

  Chapter 17

  She had done everything by the book.

  Nicole carried a load of paper napkins to the bar, where the napkin dispensers lined up waiting to be refilled. She had tried to communicate. She had used “I” language. She had expressed her own needs while considering the feelings of others.

  I want love, she’d told him. I want a family. I want a dog.

&
nbsp; And what had he said? I can’t make you promises.

  “Hey, Nicole.” Louis wandered out of the kitchen, his dark face creased with concern. “You been watching the news?”

  “No, I—”

  He snapped on the set over the bar. The set Mark said needed to be replaced.

  The local news anchor flickered above the liquor bottles, her hair stiff with spray and her voice heavy with self-importance. “…rising river submerged a stretch of railroad track this morning, forcing passengers between Fox Hole and Chicago to board buses to reach their destinations.”

  Nicole looked out the window. The sky was overcast, the lake swollen and gray, but—

  “It’s not raining,” she said.

  Louis held up one hand as the anchorwoman continued. “As rivers crest, residents in nearby towns are cautioned to be on the lookout for rising lake levels. Water is already seeping into basements and crawl spaces west of Paradise Lake. Police have closed several parks along the water’s edge.”

  Nicole felt as if her last bit of solid ground were being sucked from beneath her feet. “We’re not in any danger here, are we?”

  Louis shrugged.

  She wanted Mark. The instinct to turn to him came as naturally as the rain, automatic and unsettling, especially in light of what he’d said to her last night. I can’t make you guarantees. I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow or six months from now or twenty years down the road.

  Well, it was tomorrow. And the river was rising and she was alone and he was—oh, God, he was over a boathouse. Right by the water’s edge.

  She expelled her breath. “I need to call Mark.”

  “He already knows,” Louis said.

  “Knows what?”

  “More than you and me. He’s a Wofer—Wilderness First Responder for the county. Anything happens, anything bad happens, he’ll be one of the first called.”

  “Oh, that makes me feel better,” Nicole muttered. So if the water didn’t come and get him, he could still go drown himself.

  “What do you want to do?” Louis asked.

  She looked again through her wide, clean windows at her beautiful view. The lake was still several feet below the deck, high, yes, but no cause for worry. Except she didn’t know the first thing about rivers and lakes, didn’t know whether to be worried or not.