There was a pause on the phone. “Um. Okay,” Naomi finally said.
“See you in a few.” He hung up the phone before she could change her mind and tell him to send Jessa instead.
Levi held up the spoon and stared at it like he didn’t know what to do with it. “What the hell?”
It was high time the man learned how to stir a pot of beans instead of sitting around and drinking beer while everyone else worked. “Make sure they don’t burn or Jessa might be serving your head on that platter,” he called to his brother on his way out the door.
Outside, he took the porch steps two at a time and jogged down the hill.
Naomi stood out on her front stoop, arms crossed, face flushed with a tinge of color. She wore jeans and a white tank top that stretched over her curves.
“Hey,” he said, letting his gaze travel all the way down to her manicured red toes, aching at the memory of holding those perfect curves in his hands. God, the woman even made flip-flops sexy.
That impulse to pull her into his arms flashed stronger every time he saw her.
“Hi,” she murmured, slightly breathless.
He would’ve loved to completely take her breath away, but that wasn’t why he’d rushed down. “Can I talk to her?” he asked, keeping a safe distance.
“Be my guest.” She shook her head, her sleek red hair falling around her shoulders. “I don’t understand. She’s never difficult. Never.” She opened the door and he followed her into the house.
Bogart trotted around the corner, greeting him with a gruff bark.
“I know this is hard for her, but we’ve been talking about it all week,” Naomi said, scratching behind the dog’s ears. “I’ve told her everything I can. I’ve answered all of her questions. I don’t know what else to do.”
“Let me try.” He’d never had a heart-to-heart with a kid before, but he knew something about being abandoned by a parent. Maybe that would make a difference.
With a doubting lift of her eyebrows, Naomi pointed down the hallway.
It was pretty obvious which door belonged to Gracie. She’d decorated it with glittered stickers—hearts and flowers and horses. Smiling to himself, he knocked quietly.
“Go away, Mom. I’m not going to dinner,” came a muffled, grouchy voice.
He leaned close to the door. “Actually, it’s Lucas.”
There was a rustling sound, the thump of footsteps, and then the door creaked open. Gracie stared up at him. “What’re you doing here?”
“I came to check on you,” he said casually, like that was something he did every day. “I know it’s a big deal to meet your dad for the first time, and I wanted to see how you were doing.”
“I’m not meeting my dad.” Stubbornness gripped her delicate face. “I’m not going to dinner.”
Lucas leaned against the door frame, pressing his lips into a frown. “Now, that’s a real shame because you should see all the food Jessa and Lance have made.” He rolled his gaze up to the ceiling as though trying to recall everything. “Brisket with a tangy sauce, Jessa’s baked beans with brown sugar, fresh sweet peas. And the pie…” He whistled low. “Well, I don’t even think it’s gonna need the ice cream she bought to go with it.”
A panicked look flared in the girl’s eyes. Jessa had informed him earlier that berry pie was one of Gracie’s favorites. That’s why she’d made it.
“I can’t go.” Her voice got smaller. “I can’t meet my dad.”
“Mind if I ask why not?”
Leaving the door open, she crept to a fuzzy pink reading chair in the corner of the room.
Bogart slunk past him, curling up at her feet. The dog stretched his head and laid it in Gracie’s lap.
Though she didn’t invite him in, Lucas ventured as far as the end of her small twin bed and sat on the edge patiently. Two weeks ago, he’d never envisioned himself sitting on a frilly pink bedspread having a heart-to-heart with a ten-year-old girl. That was before he’d thought he might be a father. Before he knew he wanted to be a father so badly.
“What if he doesn’t like me?” Gracie finally asked, tears streaming down her cheeks.
The words gouged at his heart like a dull spoon. They were an echo from his own past. To a child, that was the only logical explanation for why a parent would ever leave.
Lucas eased himself off her bed and knelt in front of her, holding her tear-laden gaze firmly in his. If she never heard anything else he said—if she never remembered him at all—she needed to hold onto this. “If he doesn’t like you, it’s because he has a problem, Gracie.” That truth had taken him years to understand. For a long time he’d thought he could earn back his mom. That maybe somehow she was still watching, and if he did everything right and took care of everyone else and didn’t get into any trouble, she’d come back. That was why he’d always followed the rules; that was why he’d taken his brother’s punishment. Somewhere in his subconscious he’d believed that once he was good enough, she’d come back for him.
He wished someone would’ve told him it wouldn’t matter. That he was already good enough. That he didn’t deserve to be abandoned. That he could never be perfect enough to fix all of his mother’s problems. And that was okay. Because it wasn’t up to him.
“You are funny and brave and smart and pretty much amazing,” he told Gracie. “Your dad didn’t leave because you weren’t worth sticking around for. He left because he had a lot of problems.”
“He did?” Her eyes were wide.
“He did,” Lucas assured her. “But he’s trying to get them all sorted out now. He wants to be a better person.” Much as he hated not being Gracie’s father, he had to hand it to Mark. It took courage to come back and try to make things right. It was something he was still waiting for his own mother to do.
“My mom left when I was your age,” he said, wondering how it could still hurt to say it after all these years.
“Your mom left?” she asked, as though completely astonished. That was a testament to the safe and secure life Naomi had built for her. She didn’t even think that was within the realm of possibility.
“She did. And you know what?”
“What?” Gracie asked, completely transfixed.
“I still wish she’d come back.” He knew now that she’d struggled with anxiety and depression. And he didn’t need her anymore, but…“I’d like to know her.”
“Do you think she’ll ever come back?” Gracie asked, showing sweet concern for him.
“I don’t think so.” Though he wouldn’t give up hope altogether. He couldn’t.
The girl reached into a pile of stuffed animals next to the chair and pulled out a tiny owl. “I used to pretend this was my dad.” She handed it Lucas. He looked it over—the large, wise eyes, the tufts of feathers sticking out around its ears.
“I’d set him right over there.” She pointed to the bookshelf next to the bed. “And pretend he was always watching over me.”
“That’s a good idea,” Lucas said, marveling at her openness, her ability to trust him with something so personal. Hell, he was still working on that.
He went to hand the owl back to her, but she pushed it toward him.
“I want you to have it.” Her big grin was all confidence. “My dad’s back. But your mom’s still on her way.”
“Thank you,” he murmured, the back of his throat all mucked up with emotion. Hadn’t he come in here to help her?
Standing, Gracie threw her arms around his neck. “I’m glad you came.”
He hugged her back. “Me too.” More than she knew.
She pulled away and he stuck that owl in the pocket of his shirt. He didn’t care about the razzing he’d get from Lance and Levi; he planned to leave it there all night.
“Come on, let’s go meet my dad.” She stuck her hand in his and led him out the door.
In the hallway, they nearly ran over Naomi. Her eyes were red and watery. “What’s going on?” she asked, though if her teary eyes were any indication, s
he’d been eavesdropping.
“We’re going to meet my dad,” Gracie said, still clutching his hand as though it gave her courage.
“All right, then.” Smiling, she grabbed his other hand and held it all the way out to the porch.
Chapter Sixteen
She should be happy. Considering Naomi hadn’t thought they’d even get Gracie to come to dinner, she should be glad things were going so well between Mark and her daughter. Their daughter. So why did her eyes tear up every time she looked at the two of them?
“He’s really good with her,” Jessa said quietly, coming up behind her. They were in the kitchen getting dessert set out.
“He is.” From across the room, she watched the two of them chat at the dinner table. Gracie was telling Mark about her Cinderella performance and all of the men at the table were oohing and aahing over her theatrical details.
Lucas sat across from Gracie, and Naomi couldn’t help but notice that her daughter seemed to pay him special attention, as though they had a bond. And they did. When she’d stood outside that room listening to the two of them talk, it had hit her that they had something in common she could never understand. She hadn’t even known about the owl that was now stuffed into the pocket of his shirt.
“Gracie sure seems enamored with Lucas all of a sudden,” Jessa commented with an airy nonchalance.
“Yeah.” She sighed, unable to take her eyes off the man so she could focus on cutting the pie.
“Almost as enamored as someone else,” her friend murmured, sliding the pie away and cutting it herself.
“You should’ve heard him talking to her, Jess,” she whispered. “He was perfect. So empathetic. He knew exactly what to say.”
“So remind me again why it won’t work with you two.” Her friend started to dish generous slices of pie onto delicate china plates.
She had to remind herself, too. “I can’t add more change to Gracie’s life right now.” She picked up the ice cream scoop and plopped oversized helpings right on top of the pie slices. “And I have to protect her.” That was why she’d never dated anyone seriously, why she’d never brought a man home. “What if Gracie got attached to him and things didn’t work out?”
Jessa turned to her, those expressive brown eyes calling her out. “Are you sure it’s Gracie you’re worried about?”
The question silenced her. No. She wasn’t sure. Not at all.
“Your life will likely look different in a year,” her friend reminded her. “I know it won’t happen now, but eventually Gracie might want to go visit Mark on the weekends. And she might want to spend a couple of weeks with him in the summer.”
An itch scraped at the back of Naomi’s throat, but she cleared the sadness away. Jessa was right. Gracie would want to know her father. She’d want to know her half-brother.
Jessa took the ice cream scoop out of her hand and finished filling everyone’s plates. “You’ve put your life on hold for a long time, hon,” she said gently. “But I’m not so sure you have to do that anymore. Gracie wouldn’t want to be the reason you won’t let yourself find happiness with Lucas.”
“It’s not that simple.” Jessa made it sound like all you had to do was flip over a rock and there they would be—the dreams you’d buried a long time ago. A lifetime ago. “I was a different person when he loved me.” She’d been more carefree and less stressed and skinnier and lighter and more fun. Now she was a mom, and she didn’t know how to be that girl anymore.
Jessa took both of her hands in hers, squeezing them tightly. “Darlin’, that man still loves you. Seems to me that’s all that matters.” She let her hands go and gathered up as many plates as she could carry. “Dessert’s on!” she called, sashaying across the room.
Naomi followed, somehow balancing two plates in each hand. She served Gracie, then Mark, then Lucas, who laid a hand on the small of her back and said, “Thanks.”
Such a simple touch, yet it reached all the way to her heart. “You’re welcome,” she murmured, setting the last plate at her spot. Somehow, she managed to get herself in the chair without stumbling.
“This was one amazing meal,” Mark said, sawing his fork into the pie. “Seriously, everyone. Thanks for letting me share it with you.”
“Of course,” Jessa said in her usual polite way.
Naomi thought she saw her kick Lance under the table.
He sat up straighter. “Yeah. Glad you could be here,” he said as though his fiancée had made him rehearse ahead of time.
Luis, however, remained stonily silent, just as he had all through dinner. It would take more than polite talk for Mark to earn his way back into that man’s good graces.
“How long are you staying, Dad?” Gracie asked.
Dad? The easy way she said it almost made Naomi drop her fork.
“Well…” He looked at Naomi as though summoning her approval. “I thought I’d stay through Tuesday, if that’s okay with everyone. I took a few days off.”
“Of course.” Naomi forced out the words as she cut into her pie. Not that she’d be able to eat one damn bite.
“There’s a concert in the park tomorrow night,” he went on. “I’d love it if you two would join me.”
“A concert! I love concerts in the park,” Gracie squealed.
The rest of the room quieted and Naomi felt the weight of all of their stares. Especially Lucas’s.
“Can we go, Mom?” Gracie pulled on her arm.
Easing out a breath, she dropped her hands into her lap, pinching them into fists. That was the only way she could keep them still. “Um, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it,” she croaked out. She couldn’t give Gracie the wrong idea. If the three of them spent time together, Gracie might read too much into it. She might think there was a chance they’d end up together…
“Lance and I were planning to go,” Jessa piped up.
Her fiancé’s jaw dropped. “Wha—?”
“Maybe we can sit together,” she offered before Lance could ask too many questions.
Naomi cast her a grateful look. Jessa would drag Lance to the concert and they’d keep an eye on Gracie for her.
“So I can go, Mom? I can go with Dad?” Gracie asked, a smear of berry pie on her chin.
“You can go,” she managed, pinching her hands harder.
“Great. That’s great.” Mark’s eyes crinkled with gratitude. “We’ll be gone two hours, tops,” he promised. “I’ll pick her up at six thirty and have her back by eight thirty.”
“That sounds fine.” As long as Jessa and Lance were there to keep an eye on her. Underneath the table, Lucas’s boot brushed her foot lightly, just a small, slight touch as though he knew she needed it.
The conversation then veered into talk of the stock operation—mainly about Reckoning II. Mark asked questions and Lance even invited him to take a look at the bull after they all finished their pie. Naomi shoved in a few bites, just to keep up appearances, then she quickly stood and stacked the empty plates. The conversation didn’t seem to lull as she rinsed them and filled the dishwasher. Needing a few seconds of quiet, cold space, she slipped out onto the back patio.
The sun had already set, leaving behind only the watery cerulean marks of the day. A cool breeze washed over her, fanning her hair and purging the anxious perspiration from her skin. Jessa was right. Her life could look so different in a year. And what would she have if Gracie started to spend more time with Mark and his family? She’d have the inn. But no one to share it with…
The creaking of the back door forced her eyes closed. She didn’t have to turn around. Lucas’s presence always managed to overpower her.
For a few moments she simply tried to breathe, but the fast pounding of her heart weakened her lungs. There was no meditative breathing when Lucas Cortez was around.
“I’m proud of you,” he finally said in that ruggedly low tenor. “That couldn’t have been easy.”
“It hurt like hell,” she admitted, turning to face him. She expected him t
o say something else, but he didn’t. Instead he simply opened his arms, making a place for her as though he knew she simply needed to be held.
She wobbled into his embrace and his arms closed around her, shutting out the rest of the world—all the hard stuff, the ugly stuff. He was warmth and strength and peace, but fire, too. All-consuming. And her body fit so perfectly against his, sinking into his powerful chest. “I need you to remind me who I am,” she uttered, knowing he wouldn’t think she sounded crazy. He’d known that brave, sure girl who didn’t shy away from risks. “I think maybe I’ve forgotten.”
“That’s okay,” Lucas said, leaning down to kiss her lips. “Because I remember.” And when his mouth moved over hers in that seductive rhythm, she knew he could help her remember, too.
* * *
Lucas believed in volunteerism. Ever since he’d gotten out of prison, he’d done his best to “contribute to society” and “focus on the greater good.” Those phrases had been a part of his early release agreement, but he liked doing so, too. For a while he’d volunteered at a homeless shelter down in Pueblo. And while he’d had a shitty couple of years, they were nothing compared to what those men and women were facing. Compared to living on the streets, prison had been like a hotel—free meals, shelter. Hell, they even got to lift in a gym. Sitting across the table from a homeless man who’d lost all of his teeth from malnutrition only proved that things could always be worse. It’d given him a different perspective, made him appreciate what he’d managed to build after walking out of his cell. A lot of his comrades had ended up back in the cycle, then eventually like the man with no teeth.
While he’d had to volunteer, it really did make him feel like he was part of something bigger, something more important.
But today, his volunteerism definitely had ulterior motives. Motive, he should say. And her name was Naomi. He hadn’t seen much of her since Mark had come for dinner. They were both busy—he got that—but it seemed she was still avoiding him. The next time he saw her, he wanted to talk through the future, tell her he was committed to being here. It’d sure help if Bill McGowen would get back to him so he could officially resign.
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