A son. He had a son. And he was smart.
Kara had told him, he’d give her that. At first, he’d only thought she was being a proud aunt and then later, he’d been too angry to listen as she explained all the reasons why his son would be better off with her. But the longer he sat in the living room with Kara answering all of his mother’s questions, the greater the weight of her gaze pressed on him.
He’s smart, Sam. Really smart.
The slap of the screen door closing interrupted his thoughts, and Sam glanced back over his shoulder. In the faint light from the back porch, he saw his brothers heading his way. At least they’d brought beer, he thought, seeing the bottles in their hands.
“Thanks,” he said as Drew handed him the cold drink before leaning against the edge of the table to take a long drink of his own. Nick claimed a spot on the bench beside Sam, sitting backward to face the house.
For a few minutes, no one spoke, the wind in the trees and faint clatter from the open kitchen window were the only sounds. Finally Nick commented wryly, “I really thought my engagement would be the biggest news to hit this family for a long time to come, but that sure didn’t last.”
Drew snorted softly. “You know our baby brother likes all the attention for himself.”
“Baby brother’s sitting right here and he’s big enough to whip your ass.” Sam’s bravado faded away as he remembered Kara’s reaction to the fight with Darrell. Didn’t seem like he’d be getting in any friendly fights with his brothers soon, not if he wanted to change Kara’s image of him.
“You need a lawyer.”
“What?”
Nick glanced to the side to meet his startled gaze. “You know how much I hate them, but you need to talk to a lawyer. The sooner, the better. That boy’s a Pirelli, and he deserves your name.”
He flinched. With Marti having kept his identity a secret, obviously Timmy carried her last name. Which meant the father was listed as unknown on his birth certificate. Sam’s hand tightened around the beer bottle, the truth of that realization cutting deep. He hadn’t known about Timmy, Timmy still didn’t know about him, and it would take a hell of a lot more than changing a piece of paper to fix that.
Still, he told Nick, “I’ll get in touch with a lawyer.”
Nick pushed away from the bench and then reached out to tap his bottle against Sam’s. “Congratulations, by the way.”
“Yeah, it’s a boy,” Sam answered with a rough laugh.
As Nick walked back toward the house, Sam took another deep breath and looked over at Drew. His brother hadn’t seconded Nick’s advice, which meant he had his own ideas about what Sam should do. Ideas he’d likely play over in his head before ever saying them out loud.
Drew would speak his mind in his own time, and prodding him wouldn’t make him spill the beans any faster. Used to bug the heck out of him when they were kids. Sam drummed his fingers against the cool side of the glass bottle. Kids, nothing! It bugged the crap out of him now.
“Nick has a point about seeing the lawyer,” Drew said finally. “Timmy needs to have the Pirelli name, and you need to look into setting up life insurance and writing a will.”
Life insurance. Wills. Part of Sam wanted to laugh at the thought. Those things were for old people, right? But where would he be if Marti had thought that way? He knew exactly where. He’d still be driving down the highway in the ’Vette, wind in his hair, as he took a few hairpin turns rushing toward his dreams. He’d be the man he’d been until Kara showed up and everything changed.
“You’re right,” he sighed. “I have to think about Timmy now.”
“And about Kara?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I saw the way Kara looks at Timmy. She wants to raise him.”
“I know,” Sam said, scraping his thumbnail against the slightly soggy label on the beer bottle. “She told me.”
His brother’s eyebrows rose slightly at that as he eased away from the table to sit at Sam’s side. “Well, that’s honest.”
Ever since he’d confronted Kara, she’d been completely truthful. Maybe more truthful than he would have liked. Knowing she wanted to raise Timmy was forcing Sam to make a decision he didn’t know if he could make.
This was too important to screw up, and what if he failed? What if he couldn’t be the father Timmy needed? Sam took a swallow of beer, but the drink did little to ease the gnawing at his gut.
Kara had been a part of his son’s life since the day he was born. She’d loved him during all the years when Sam had been completely absent from Timmy’s life.
That wasn’t his fault, and Marti should have told him the truth, but none of that mattered because it didn’t change reality.
Sam was a total stranger. Throw into an already complicated equation that Kara was kind and caring and smart and even Sam could see how those pluses added up to a woman who was the perfect person to raise his son.
“She loves him,” Sam told him brother.
“I can see that,” Drew agreed. “But I saw something else. When she wasn’t looking at Timmy, she was looking at you.”
He’d felt the weight of Kara’s stare more than once throughout the evening, almost as if she was willing him to see reason and let Timmy go back home with her. Or worse, that she was looking into his mind and seeing how torn he was between grabbing hold of his son and not letting go, and wanting to run for the hills and never look back.
What kind of a father felt that way? Not his, that was for sure. And not Nick. His older brother had raised Maddie as a single parent since she was three years old.
“So what’s going on between the two of you?” his brother asked.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Come on, Sam. I know you better than that. You’re the ladies’ man, the lover of women.” Drew raised his eyebrows along with his beer. “You have to know when one is interested in you.”
“This is different.”
“Different because of Timmy? Or different because of Kara?”
Sam had thought Kara was interested. That initial spark when they’d met, the night they’d spent talking in her hotel room, the kisses they’d shared... But that was all before he’d realized the secret she’d been keeping from him. She had promised to tell him the truth, but even if he could trust what she said, Sam knew when it came to Kara, he could no longer trust what he felt.
* * *
“Carefully, Timmy,” Kara warned as her nephew reached for the last of the empty dinner plates on the table. “You don’t want to drop anything.”
Vanessa glanced back over her shoulder with a rich laugh, up to her elbows in soapy dishwater. “You’ve met my sons. Anything that survived those three is built to last. Honestly, I think they broke fewer dishes when they were Timmy’s age. At least back then, they made an attempt to be careful.”
Maybe that was why the older woman had shooed the men from the kitchen as soon as dinner was over. Darcy and Maddie were cutting pieces of the cake they’d brought, purchased from the local baker who, according to Sam’s niece, made the best desserts ever, while Kara and Timmy “helped” with the dishes.
“Good job, sweetheart. What a big help you are,” Vanessa said as he handed her the plate.
Not to be outdone, Maddie called out over her shoulder. “I’m helping, too, Gramma.”
“Yes, I see that, Maddie,” Vanessa said, the twinkle in her eye revealing she was well aware her granddaughter was mostly helping herself to an extra finger or two full of frosting.
Timmy beamed shyly up at Vanessa. “I like helping. I never get to help at Grandmother and Grandfather’s house. That’s Mrs. Waymer’s job.”
Kara felt her face heat at her nephew’s innocent, yet telling statement and Vanessa’s questioning glance. “Mrs. Waymer is my parents�
� housekeeper,” she explained.
The woman had worked for her parents for almost as long as Kara could remember. The quiet, gray-haired woman was good at her job, keeping every inch of the Starling house spotless. She took extra pride in making their kitchen, with its state-of-the-art, stainless-steel appliances, white marble countertops and black granite floors shine. That décor, like everything else, was a world away from the Pirelli kitchen.
Here, rich, earth tones warmed the space, from the oak cabinets and matching table and chairs to the green-checked cushions and napkins, to the vibrant red pots and pans. The stove and refrigerator could almost qualify as antiques, but like the butcher block counter, they’d been well cared for and wore their age with pride. Lace curtains hung from the windows, and a rooster-shaped clock counted out the many happy hours the Pirellis shared during family dinners.
Kara couldn’t remember her parents’ kitchen ever being so filled with people or with so much laughter...or love. The emotion permeated the air the same way the scent of tomatoes, onions and garlic bubbling away on the stove had.
“A housekeeper,” Vanessa echoed. “I see.”
Kara shifted beneath the older woman’s speculative gaze as she reached for a glass in the dish drain and started to dry. She had a feeling that kitchen cleanup might not have been the only reason Vanessa had asked her to stay behind. “My parents are both surgeons. Their careers keep them very busy.”
“This must be so hard on them.” Vanessa said quietly as Timmy skipped back over to the table to collect the silverware. “I can’t even imagine. To lose a child...”
Kara’s hands stilled on the damp cotton. The small locket she wore pressed heavily against her heart, but she forced herself to wipe the gingham towel over the smooth glass.
“And for you and Timmy, as well. The poor boy.”
“I want to thank you for understanding why I—why Sam and I want to take things slowly. I know this has been a surprise for all of you, too. Just showing up the way we did.”
“Children—grandchildren especially,” Vanessa added with a wink, “are always a blessing.”
Kara reached for another glass, but as her hands continued the monotonous chore of drying dishes, her thoughts drifted back in time. How Vanessa Pirelli’s view differed from her own parents! They’d been furious twelve years ago when Kara finally found the courage to confess she was pregnant.
The only saving grace was that she’d called from school. She hadn’t had to see the disappointment and anger in her father’s face. But, more than a decade later, she could still hear it in his voice.
How could you be so foolish! To ruin your life by making such a stupid mistake!
“And Timmy is more of a blessing than most children.”
Thinking the older woman was referring to the time she’d missed, the grandchild she almost hadn’t had the opportunity to know, Kara blurted out, “I’m sorry that my sister kept him from you all these years.”
“Kara, it’s all right,” Vanessa interrupted. “You have nothing to apologize for. Your sister, she loved Timmy, didn’t she?”
“Yes.” Kara might not have understood why her sister had kept her silence or what had prompted her to leave the letter behind, but that one thing she trusted without a doubt. “She loved him.”
“And she must have thought she was doing what was best for her child. That’s all any mother can do.”
Doing what was best for her child. It couldn’t have been easy to be gracious toward a woman who’d kept their grandchild a secret, yet Kara read a true sympathy in Vanessa’s eyes.
“But that isn’t what I was meant when I called Timmy a special blessing.” She smiled at her newfound grandson, who still held a handful of dirty silverware but was distracted by the pieces of chocolate cake Darcy and Maddie were setting out on the sideboard. “I think that boy is exactly what Sam needs.”
“Needs?”
“Sam has always been so focused. His father would call it pigheaded, but since I’ve always figured Sam got it from him, who am I to argue?” Vanessa gave a light laugh. “From the time Sam was not much older than Timmy, he could name every make and model of car on the road. Some kids are born with a silver spoon. My youngest son might as well have come out holding a socket wrench.”
“Well, that’s good, isn’t it? To have a calling?” Kara had always wanted to be a teacher, but not a college professor. She’d dreamed of teaching kindergarten until the reality of being around children became too painful.
If she were named department chair, she couldn’t help wondering if her dream wouldn’t be slipping even further from her fingers. She’d have to give up some of her classes to take on the administrative duties of overseeing her fellow teachers. The promotion was supposed to be a step up, but she couldn’t help wonder if she’d be moving in the wrong direction.
“Yes and no,” Vanessa sighed. “I’ve always felt Sam was so focused on that one path, that he’s never bothered to look around, to explore other options. I think Timmy will be just the incentive Sam needs to open his eyes and see there’s more to life than being a good—or even a great—mechanic.”
“Things like being a good father,” Kara surmised.
The older woman made a soft sound of agreement before mildly adding, “And a good husband.”
“Oh!” A startled gasp escaped Kara as the glass she’d been drying nearly slipped from her fingers. “I’m so sorry. I’m not normally so clumsy.”
“No harm done,” Vanessa assured her as she took the glass from her hands and placed it in the cupboard.
“And to think, I was worried about Timmy,” Kara said with a forced laugh.
And now, thanks to one harmless comment, she had a whole new set of worries about a future she hadn’t imagined. Worries about some nameless, faceless woman Sam might meet, a woman he would marry, a woman he would love...a woman who Timmy would someday call Mom.
* * *
Sam knew he couldn’t hide out in the yard forever, but as he made his way back to the house and saw his father waiting on the front porch, he wished he’d stay away a little longer.
His foot barely hit the first step when Vince said, “I thought we raised you better than this, Sam.”
He flinched at the gruff words, feeling like a kid again. Like a failure again. The sick kick in the gut was as familiar as it was hated, and Sam wanted to lash out the way he had before he’d learned to hide his true feelings behind a joke and a smile.
But there could be no joking about this.
“You did,” Sam said as he joined his father at the railing. “You taught me family means everything and nothing is more important.”
“And to respect women.”
“Yes.”
“Which means not walking away and leaving a girl pregnant.”
Getting a girl pregnant meant getting married. It might have been old-fashioned, but as far as the Pirellis were concerned, it was the right thing to do. But would it have been the right thing for him and Marti? If she had come to him when she was pregnant, if he had done what his family expected and proposed, Sam couldn’t imagine their marriage would have been anything other than wrong. But that argument would only further disappoint Vince, if that was even possible. “I’m sorry about how this happened.”
“You have a lot of ground to cover, Sam. Four years of fatherhood to make up for in that boy’s life, if you ever expect him to call you Dad.”
The screen door slammed shut on his father’s final words. Dad. Sam gripped the porch railing. He’d never given much thought to being a father. Oh, sure, maybe someday when he was older. When he was ready. But now...
“Ready or not,” he muttered beneath his breath.
A creak on the porch alerted him to a soft step off to the right, and he tensed as Kara appeared out of the shadows. Great. “How m
uch of that did you hear?”
“Enough,” she admitted. “Your dad was pretty hard on you.”
“He has reason to be.”
“This isn’t your fault, Sam. If Marti had told you—”
“But she didn’t. And that is my fault. A woman that I was with didn’t trust me enough to tell me I was going to be a father. What does that say about what she thought of me?”
He already knew the answer. Good enough for a good time, but not good enough to know about the child they created.
“Sam.” Kara curved her palm over the arm he’d braced against the porch railing. The warmth and softness of her touch seeped into his skin. Into muscle, into bone. But he’d learned his lesson. He already knew Kara could reach deep enough inside him to pull out his heart.
“Not again,” he ground out as he took an almost stumbling step back. He’d been fool enough to let Kara use his attraction against him once. It was a mistake he wasn’t going to make again.
Chapter Eight
“Timmy, what are you doing?” Kara asked even though she could see for herself that her nephew was picking the golden raisins out of the muffin she’d bought him at Bonnie’s Bakery.
The chocolate cake Nick had brought for dessert at the Pirellis’ the night before had been as rich and decadent as promised, and Kara had decided to stop at the bakery for breakfast. She’d ordered muffins for both of them along with an herbal tea for herself and orange juice for Timmy. The bakery had two white wrought-iron bistro tables set up out front, and the weather—blue skies with only a hint of a breeze–was perfect for alfresco dining. The location was even better for four-year-old dining, considering the mess Timmy was making.
“I don’t like raisins,” he answered as he added another reject to the pile on his napkin. “They look like bugs.”
“But you like bugs,” she teased.
Timmy merely shot her a sly look from beneath the blond curls falling across his forehead and went back to dissecting his muffin.
Daddy Says, I Do! Page 10
