In a Heartbeat

by Janice Kay Johnson

  “Yeah,” he said gruffly. “You’re right.” A muffled voice came through the phone. “I’ve got to go,” he said. “I should be home by six.” He was gone without her having a chance to say goodbye.

  Anna decided to wait dinner for him. The kids had already had a snack, but she prepared a plate of celery and carrot sticks with peanut butter they could use for dipping, and took it in to them.

  “Aren’t we having dinner?” Josh asked.

  “Nate called to say he’d be late. We’ll eat in an hour.”

  “But I’m hungry—” He stifled it after a glance at her, grabbed a celery stick and scooped peanut butter. Anna went back to the kitchen, where she stood, trying to decide what to do since dinner wasn’t far from ready. She settled on having a cold drink and watching the news.

  As soon as Nate arrived, she carried the ceramic baking dish with lasagna she’d kept warm in the oven to the table while the peas and garlic bread heated.

  “God, that looks good,” he said with a groan, and sank into his place at the table. The kids came running, and within a few minutes they were dishing up. “Anything exciting happen today?” he asked.

  “Mrs. Tate says we have to do a group project,” Molly grumbled. “I hate group projects. I always have to do everything, or else we get a bad grade.”

  “Teacher wouldn’t even let us pick our own groups,” Josh chimed in.

  For good reason, although Anna did sympathize with Molly’s complaint. She’d been that kind of student herself.

  She had the impression Nate wasn’t really listening. He’d just wanted to spur a conversation so he could eat in peace. Well, she corrected herself, maybe peace wasn’t the right word.

  The kids gobbled, then seized their cookies and raced back to whatever they’d been doing, leaving Anna and Nate to have after-dinner coffee together for the first time in a while.

  “Bad day,” she said quietly.

  He rubbed his jaw. “I kept thinking she’s Molly’s mother. And not feeling real good about it.”

  “Are you—” Anna hesitated “—giving up on her?”

  Bleak eyes met hers. “No. How can I? But there’s nothing I can do except renew my offer to pay for treatment, as many times as it takes.”

  Relieved, she nodded. “I guess it’s obvious I haven’t said anything.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to.” He took her hand. “I forgot to tell you that my mother called this morning. They’re finally home and eager to see us. And meet you and your two.” His grimace looked apologetic. “I should have asked you first, but I invited them to dinner Saturday. They usually stay the night when they’re here.”

  “Why would you ask my permission? I’m happy to cook, if that’s what you’d like. I’m sure they’ll want to spend time with you and Molly, so once I’ve met them—”

  He scowled. “No. We’re family now. Haven’t you noticed?”

  She was suddenly breathing fast, not finding enough oxygen. “We’re not. We might act like it, but—”

  Nate set down his cup hard, sloshing coffee onto the place mat. “If you’d marry me, we would be.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “MARRY?” ANNA WHISPERED.

  Oh, damn. Nate winced. This wasn’t exactly how he’d planned to raise the subject. “I didn’t mean to throw it at you that way.”

  “But you did.” She seemed to remember that they were holding hands. She yanked hers free. “And if that’s your idea of a proposal—”

  “It’s not.” He softened his voice. “I meant to be a lot more romantic about it. I was trying to figure out where I could find a babysitter, so I could take you out to a nice restaurant.”

  She shook her head, either rejecting the plan or him. “You’ve had this in mind all along, haven’t you?”

  “From the day you started work here? No. For six months or so, yes. I haven’t made any secret of it.”

  “You’ve decided to firm up our ‘arrangement,’ because it works so well, isn’t that right?”

  Holding on to his temper wasn’t easy. “We’ve both been happy, haven’t we?” And he’d be even happier with her in his bed every night.

  “You’d gain a permanent housekeeper slash cook, not to mention a solution to all future child-care dilemmas. You’d soothe any case of guilt. Oh, and have regular sex, of course, without any need to bother courting a woman.”

  He went still. “That’s what you think?”

  “Me, I’d have financial stability, and you would make a great stepfather.” She cocked her head. “It doesn’t worry you, that I might marry you for your money?”

  “That never crossed my mind,” he said tautly. “To the contrary.”

  “It should have. Do you have any idea how frightening it was to be on the verge of being homeless?”

  “I can guess.” Maybe. Empathize, anyway. “But I’ve seen you gaining confidence. We both know you’re ready to support yourself and the kids if you have to.” Which you don’t.

  She pushed back her chair and stood, her face showing so much turmoil it hurt him to see.

  “I know you’re...attracted to me.”

  He stood, too, bracing himself.

  “But marriage shouldn’t be a convenient solution to practical problems. It should be about love. Have you ever even thought, I love Anna?”

  He hesitated, knowing even before he spoke that it was too late. “I do love you. I would have said so if I hadn’t launched so badly into this.”

  “Would you?” Her smile was sad.

  “Do you love me?” he asked hoarsely.

  “What difference does that make right now?”

  “Anna—” He reached for her, but his hand froze in midair when she shrank back. “Please don’t say no. Please.”

  She retreated. “I have to think. Do you know what scares me?”

  He shook his head dumbly.

  “After Kyle died and I found out how bad things were, I made a vow I would never depend on anyone else like that again. I’ve already come close to violating that with you. But to marry you...” She shivered.

  “I’m not Kyle. I’m not anything like him.”

  Her forehead crinkled, as if the concept confused her, but all she said was, “We should both think. I’ve been here when you needed me, and that’s seductive. I love Molly, and I think she loves me. But someday she’ll be a teenager who resents me, and Josh will be yelling because you don’t have any right to tell him what to do, and I’d be lousy at entertaining the really rich people you’d invite to a party, and—”

  “Enough!” Nate snapped. “If you don’t love me, say so. Quit making excuses.”

  “If I didn’t love you, this wouldn’t be so hard.” Eyes suddenly damp, she fled.

  Standing stock-still, shocked, he heard her collecting her children.

  He’d blown that, but wasn’t sure the result would have been any different if he’d had candlelight before going down on bended knee with a diamond ring in his hand. He’d known she was wary, but not why. Months ago, sure, he’d understood the need to respect her grief.

  His laugh was humorless. At least she didn’t still blame him for her husband’s death.

  You so sure about that?

  No, he wasn’t. She might just not want to say it, but Nate found he didn’t believe that.

  And she’d said she loved him. He hadn’t imagined that, had he?

  What if he’d prefaced his really shitty proposal with the words, I love you? Instinct said she’d have run, anyway.

  The silence suddenly penetrated and he remembered the hellish talk he had to have with Molly. Glancing at the half-cleared table, he realized Anna had left the dirty kitchen for him.

  Still staggered and deeply afraid, he knew he couldn’t put off telling Molly about her mother’s latest disaster.

 
* * *

  ONCE SHE WAS sure both kids were asleep, Anna sank onto one end of the sofa and drew her legs up so she could wrap her arms around them and rest her chin on her knees. The closest she could get to returning to the womb, she thought with dark humor. Floating in happy darkness, no decisions to be made.

  If only Nate hadn’t thrown it at her like that. If she could have prepared herself, thought through her concerns. She’d have laughed if she hadn’t been so depressed. Sure, that was what a man wanted when he asked a woman to marry him: her list of concerns.

  Well, he’d deserved it tonight.

  If you’d marry me, we’d be a family.

  The awful thing was...she wanted that, with all her heart. She just wanted to believe that wasn’t all he was offering...and that she was accepting for the right reasons.

  But she’d been really hateful, hadn’t she? Jumping on him because the first words out of his mouth weren’t wildly romantic. Them becoming a family was important. They were both parents. She wouldn’t marry a man who wasn’t good for the kids, even if she were passionately in love with him. Nate must have the same consideration.

  At least they’d run all the day-to-day tests they needed to, she thought, with what might be faint humor.

  She’d been leery because she had come to count on Nate for so much. Even so, until he offered her everything, she hadn’t known quite how afraid she was of giving her complete trust to another man.

  Frowning, she wondered how fair her fear was to him. It was true that Nate wasn’t like Kyle. If he’d tried to push his money at her, she’d have good reason to feel threatened. She knew what he thought of her car, and had worried he’d do something at Christmas like present her with a brand-new SUV perfect for hauling the kids around. But he hadn’t, instead giving her a pretty pair of earrings that probably were real diamonds, but not such large ones as to have been horribly expensive.

  Despite his personal worth, he’d been respectful of her determination to work, even if her paychecks were pitiful by his standards. He’d never belittled her job in any way, or argued when she insisted on paying for some of those Sunday pizzas for them all.

  So, if her worry wasn’t him...what was it?

  Me. It’s all me.

  Even in the midst of grief after Kyle’s death, humiliation and that terrible sense of inadequacy had scored her to the bone. She’d been stupid, foolish to have blindly believed in Kyle. She’d berated herself with a thousand hurtful words.

  Now, separated from those dreadful days by almost a year, Anna thought, yes, she had been foolishly trusting. As an educated woman, she should have insisted on knowing everything about their finances. The man she’d loved had done really stupid things, but she hadn’t known that. Except for his refusal to stick with any one job, he’d never given her reason to doubt that he handled their money fine. That day would have come soon; he’d seemed placid, so he must have had complete, unreasoning faith each time he made an investment that this one would be magic. Of course, it hadn’t been, and he’d have had nowhere else to go for money. Would he have lied about why they had to sell the house?

  Probably.

  Which brought her back to the present. She would never again be able to give unreasoning trust, even though... Her sudden knowledge took her breath away. She trusted Nate. Aloud, she whispered, “I do.”

  If only she could be sure he really did want to marry her, not just the woman who completed his family—and the one for whom he still felt a sense of responsibility.

  And if only she could be sure that she trusted her judgment.

  She’d hurt him. Would he give her another chance? Her heart cramped at this new fear.

  Still, she discovered she did have that much faith. He’d waited all these months for her. He wouldn’t shrug now and decide she wasn’t worth the bother.

  And...would he really have stayed celibate that long and been so patient if he didn’t love her?

  * * *

  THIS WASN’T THE greatest time to introduce his parents into the mix.

  Nate and Anna had been tiptoeing around each other since his ill-conceived proposal. He was a little bit encouraged because she hadn’t gone back to dragging her children away the minute he arrived home each day to take charge of Molly. She’d even lingered for coffee the following day because she wanted to know how his talk with Molly had gone.

  He’d had to tell her the truth: he didn’t know. Molly hadn’t cried or turned to him for comfort. She hadn’t asked questions. All she’d done was nod solemnly when he’d explained that any visits with her mother would once again take place here, with him present. He hadn’t said, Oh, by the way, your mom may spend some time in jail before you see her again. He didn’t know the outcome of Sonja’s breakdown, because she wasn’t answering her phone and had requested her attorney not to tell Nate a damn thing. From the attorney’s slight hesitation, he guessed the request had been phrased more profanely than that.

  He’d have shrugged, believing that sometimes ignorance was bliss—except that they shared a child. What did Sonja expect him to tell Molly as time passed?

  Thinking about Anna’s accusations gave him some nearly sleepless nights after their confrontation. He had to be sure he had answers, if only for himself.

  He couldn’t deny that he loved Anna’s cooking, and that having a partner was damned convenient. But Molly would grow up fast—a man didn’t marry a woman when he could hire a different one to do the same job. He wouldn’t, anyway. He took marriage seriously, despite the failure of his first one. Maybe even more because he’d failed the once.

  Sex with Anna had been stupendous, he couldn’t deny it. But that accusation made him mad. The sex had been great because of how he felt about her and—he hoped—how she felt about him. He didn’t like her making it sound cheap. One woman interchangeable for another. Given how damn long it had been since he’d had sex with anyone else, claiming he just wanted easy sex had no basis in reality, and Anna had to know that.

  Not having courted her...there’d been good reasons.

  The one that he did brood about was whether his sense of guilt, responsibility—whatever she wanted to call it—had even subconsciously pushed him to think how neatly he could tie everything up with her as his wife. He could take care of her and her kids for a lifetime.

  He made himself remember again the distraught woman at the hospital and how powerfully that brief glimpse had moved him. But that woman had been an abstract, epitomizing the tragedy. She’d made him want to write her a big check.

  The Anna he’d fallen in love with was strong, proud, fiery, nurturing. Smart. Sexy. If she’d been hungry for his money and the security it would give her, he might feel differently. But then she wouldn’t be the Anna he knew. And he couldn’t love her without wanting to protect her, to make her happy. What kind of a man would he be if he didn’t feel that way?

  Despite his tiredness, Nate had worked extra hours this week, partly to make up for the days off, partly because the evenings weren’t the unalloyed pleasure they’d been. By the time he left his office midafternoon Saturday, he felt guilty about that. Was this how the disintegration of his marriage had started? Sonja had irritated or bored him, so he’d worked longer hours?

  Yeah, he thought, it might be. Not a mistake he’d make again, not when it came to Anna. A lot of what she’d said came down to trust. He’d known in one way how badly her husband had let her down, but he hadn’t really understood how crushing that would have been to her ability to believe in another man. Him.

  Whatever he had to do to prove himself, he’d do.

  Starting, he thought ruefully, with being there when his parents showed up, instead of leaving her to handle it alone.

  When he let himself in, Anna was already in the kitchen. Relief flashed across her face. “Oh. I was afraid...”

  He smiled crookedly. “It occurred to me Mom migh
t get eager and make Dad come early. Let me go change clothes, and if I can do anything to help, I will.”

  “I don’t think...but thank you.”

  He took the stairs two at a time, glad to shed the suit in favor of comfortable jeans and a polo shirt. Downstairs again, he said hi to the kids, who all decided to follow him back to the kitchen.

  “Mommy is making scones,” Jenna said. “I don’t know what they are, but she said they’d be good for breakfast.”

  Anna looked embarrassed. “I thought they’d be a nice alternative to toast.”

  He inhaled. “That’s what smells so good. Lemon?”

  She relaxed. “Yes. I have some icing ready to go on them. Oh, and I already baked two pies for dessert tonight.”

  His stomach growled, and she laughed.

  “Did you have lunch?”

  “Now that you mention it...”

  She wanted to make him a sandwich, but he insisted on doing it himself.

  “Don’t kill yourself over this,” he said, between bites as she iced the now-cooling scones. “Mom and Dad are pretty relaxed. This isn’t a fancy dinner party.”

  She eyed him. “Is that what you’re going to wear?”

  Nate looked down at himself. “I put on a polo shirt instead of a T-shirt in their honor.”

  “I was going to change clothes before they got here, but maybe I won’t.”

  “I like what you’re wearing.” The huskiness in his voice probably told her how much. Today was warm, a real precursor of summer, which was why she had on chinos that ended just below her knees—capris, he decided—and a snug-fitting, soft blue T-shirt with cap sleeves and a deep neck. On her feet... He craned his neck to see over the breakfast bar. She was barefoot.

  She followed his gaze and blushed. “I’ll put on my sandals before I meet them.”

  Nate laughed. “If Mom sees you like that, she’ll probably kick her own shoes off. This stretch of good weather is supposed to last, you know.”

  “I saw.” She made a face. “Rain would make it a lot easier to keep the kids’ attention in class. As it is, they’re like fleas, hopping out of their seats at the slightest excuse.”