Stephanie whipped her Honda into the employee parking lot behind Station 6 and squeezed herself out from behind the wheel. Another few days and she wouldn’t be able to fit in her car at all.
But for now, she wanted to share her good news with Danny, and she didn’t want to wait for tomorrow when he’d have his day off.
The late-afternoon sun slanted through the open bay doors, catching Engine 62 in a column of light as it backed into its assigned position following a run and came to a stop.
Stephanie’s heart seized as she realized during all of her excitement, Danny had been putting his life on the line fighting a fire somewhere in Paseo. She hadn’t given him or the danger he faced daily a thought. Selfishly, she’d only been thinking about herself.
She met him when he stepped down from the truck and reached up on tiptoe, kissing him lightly. “Welcome home.”
Color bloomed in his cheeks beneath a smudge of soot. “Hey, I don’t get welcomed home like that often.”
“The department probably needs to hire cheerleaders so you fellows won’t feel neglected.”
“I’ll put the idea in the suggestion box. The chief will love it. He’ll probably insist they wear those revealing short skirts.” He grinned at her mischievously, and she knew it hadn’t been a bad fire. No one had been injured.
Her sense of relief almost made her forget why she’d dropped by the station. “I got my first contract.”
Taking off his helmet, he tossed it back into the cab of the truck. “For an advertising job?”
“You bet. Boutique Bagels down on Broadway.”
“Way to go, Twigs!” He picked her up under her arms and twirled her around.
She gasped with both delight and surprise. “Put me down! You’re going to drop me.”
“No way, sweetheart. What we’ve gotta do is celebrate your sale. Up on top of the truck—” he started to boost her up to the rack of accordion folded hose at the top of the truck “—and we’ll do the deed—”
“We’ll do no such thing!”
Jay Tolliver sauntered over from Engine 62, his turnout coast smudged with soot, too. “Backdraft was a great movie, wasn’t it?”
“No. It destroyed the firefighters’ honorable image,” she complained.
Danny ignored the exchange between Stephanie and Jay and looked up at the coiled hoses, assessing the situation. “I suppose if you fell off the truck, it’d be like Humpty Dumpty and I’d never get you put back together again.”
Unable to help herself, she laughed. “I’d rather not test out just how fragile I am.”
“Understandable.” His hands closed gently around her shoulders and he drew her closer. “How ’bout we celebrate with a kiss right here.”
She wanted to object. She really meant to. But before she knew what was happening, his mouth covered hers and she forgot all about the firefighters drifting around the bay area, checking their gear, getting ready for the next fire they’d have to fight.
She drew a shaky breath when he finally released her. Low and raspy as though he’d inhaled more smoky air than was good for him, he said, “I’m proud of you, Twigs. I knew you could make a success of your business.”
She basked in the glow of his praise for the few seconds before his cohorts began to razz him for fraternizing with the chief’s daughter.
Knowing the crews had work to do, and embarrassed by their very public kiss, Stephanie ducked out of the station. Danny would come by in the morning for their walk—not that she could go far these days with her protruding tummy arriving at any new destination well ahead of the rest of her.
She drove home and turned into her driveway, noting there was a new Jaguar parked at the curb. She frowned as she got out of her Honda. It was the middle of the afternoon. Her father wasn’t home yet.
A troubling unease crept down her spine.
Without looking in the direction of the unfamiliar car, she headed for the back door.
She heard or sensed him behind her and picked up her pace.
“Stephanie, wait.”
Her heart thudded against her ribs and she came to a halt, then turned to greet the father of her child, Edgar Bresse the Third.
Chapter Twelve
“What on earth are you doing here?” she asked.
“I’ve missed you, Stephanie.” Impeccably dressed, as always, his blond hair perfectly styled, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his hand-tailored slacks. “Isn’t that a good enough reason for me to drop by to see you?”
Almost three months without a word and now he shows up out of the blue, driving three hours down Highway 101 from San Francisco?
Stephanie had the desperate feeling Edgar’s visit wasn’t as benign as he let on. “You came a long way for a social visit without calling first.”
“I was afraid you’d tell me not to come.”
“You’re right. I would have.”
“Come on, Stephanie. We had a lot going for us. You can’t simply toss that aside—”
“Me?” Her voice rose in surprise. “You’re the one who did the tossing. After I told you I was pregnant, you didn’t want to have anything more to do with me.” Or my baby.
“I owe you an apology for my behavior. I got a little panicky, you know? Like I wasn’t exactly ready to settle down yet.”
She eyed him skeptically. “Are you saying you’re ready now?”
Instead of answering, he strolled back to the front porch. In the slanting rays of the late-afternoon sun, he looked like a blond Adonis, an image that no longer held any appeal for her. Why, she wondered, had she ever thought she loved this man?
He picked up a long, white florist box. “Maybe this will help make up for what I did to you.”
Against her better judgment, she accepted the box. “Flowers aren’t going to cut it, Edgar.” Among other things, she’d fallen hard for someone else and had come to realize Edgar wasn’t worth a single one of the tears she’d shed over him.
“Just take a look, okay?” He eased the lid off the box. “I remembered how much you loved roses. Think of these as the first installment of my apology.”
It was all she could do not to gasp at the mass of three dozen long-stem red roses. The extravagant scent filled the air making it almost too rich to breathe. “I don’t want your flowers or anything else from you, Edgar. Whatever you’re after, it’s too late now.”
His cheeks flushed a bright red and, in an uncharacteristically evasive mannerism, his gaze shot away from hers to the climbing roses growing up a trellis beside the front porch. “I think it’s worth discussing, don’t you?”
Something wasn’t adding up. He’d made it abundantly clear before she left San Francisco that he had no further interest in her and even less interest in their baby.
“To what do we owe your sudden change of heart?”
He glanced around the yard and toward the neighbors’ houses where not a soul was in sight, not even the flick of a curtain to suggest someone was watching them.
“Could we take this conversation inside? A little privacy would be nice.”
Stephanie was torn. On the one hand, he’d rejected her when she’d been vulnerable and that had hurt. Deeply. For that reason alone, she had no further desire to see him. Danny’s arrival in her life was an added bonus, however temporary that might be. It had made her see Edgar as a shallow, cardboard cutout of a man compared to Danny.
Still, Edgar was her baby’s father. She didn’t have the right to keep him away from his little girl.
Though, for the life of her, she couldn’t fathom why—after his adamant rejection of the baby—he’d want to be involved with the child at all. Or why he’d bring her flowers.
With a taut gesture, she invited him to follow her inside through the back door.
She hadn’t put the breakfast dishes away that morning and they cluttered the sink. An empty orange juice carton still sat on the table. She felt like scurrying around to tidy things up. Edgar was a neat freak, making her feel g
uilty if she didn’t clean up a mess the moment it happened.
In contrast, Danny had never once criticized her housekeeping skills or her lack of interest in the pursuit of improving those talents.
Dropping the florist box on the kitchen table, she kept on walking into the living room where dust covered the furniture to a depth of two inches, or so it seemed to her as she looked around through Edgar’s eyes. Starting a business was a full-time job, she reminded herself, and she’d had little energy left over for domestic activity. If he’d wanted neat and tidy along with a red carpet rolled out, he’d come to the wrong place.
Scooping up a day-old newspaper from the couch, she refolded it and set it on the table on top of a disorderly stack of her father’s firefighter magazines.
“My parents send their regards.”
She doubted his parents had given her a single thought in the past few months. “Tell them hello for me, too.”
“You’re looking well, Stephanie.”
Instinctively she linked her hands across her distended belly, and his gaze followed her gesture. “Thank you. You’re looking debonair, as always.”
A faint smile lifted his narrow lips. “The baby? Everything is going along as expected? All healthy and normal?”
“So far, so good.” Neither of them had taken a seat and they stood on opposite ends of the coffee table but the gulf between them after all these months was far wider than a mere few feet. “You didn’t come here to indulge in idle chitchat, Edgar, and I sincerely doubt your change of heart includes a proposal.”
Rather than sitting down, which would leave her in the power position of height, he paced across the room to the fireplace and took a lord-of-the-manor pose with his legs wide apart, his hands clasped behind his back.
“I believe—for the sake of the baby—we ought to put aside our differences. I am prepared to marry you.”
Her jaw went slack. Months ago when she announced her pregnancy she’d hoped Edgar would propose. But not now. She no longer wanted to marry him and wouldn’t have him if he came gift-wrapped with a bow around his neck.
“You’re prepared?” She had to laugh, albeit with a certain amount of bitterness. “That’s probably the least romantic proposal I’ve ever heard of and the answer is an unequivocal thanks but no thanks.”
“Stephanie…” He brushed at an imaginary piece of dirt on the sleeve of his shirt. “Look, I had intended to take you out to a nice dinner, reestablish our relationship and then propose, hopefully amid music and candlelight. But the reception you’ve given me hasn’t exactly been warm.”
“Hah! You’re damn lucky I didn’t bar the doors and toss boiling oil on you out the window.” His nervous mannerisms, the way he couldn’t quite meet her gaze, suggested he hadn’t had a change of heart at all. Only his agenda had changed but she didn’t know why.
The fact that he’d show up after all these months and then lie to her sent a familiar dart of betrayal through her. Whatever his words, at his core Edgar was still rejecting her…and her baby.
Thank goodness she’d already decided to move on with her life without him.
When she gave no indication of relenting, he drew himself up to precise military-school attention and squared his shoulders. “Really, Stephanie, dear, you didn’t used to be so peevish.”
“Blame it on the pregnancy, if you like, but the answer is still no. I have no interest in marrying you or anyone else anytime soon.” Particularly since the man she’d fallen in love with didn’t reciprocate her feelings. “I’m getting along just fine as I am. And I’d like you to leave. Now.”
With flawless timing, Harlan Gray chose that moment to arrive home from the office. He came in through the back door and walked into the living room.
“Stephanie, whose car is parked—” He halted abruptly, eyeing their guest with surprise and no great pleasure. The few times they’d met, Harlan had expressed little eagerness for Edgar as Stephanie’s boyfriend. Her unintended pregnancy had certainly not endeared the man to her father.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Harlan said.
Striding across the room, Edgar extended his hand. “Good to see you, Mr. Gray. You’re looking well.” When Harlan didn’t accept his hand, Edgar let his fall to his side.
Harlan’s gaze darted to Stephanie. “Is everything all right?”
“Edgar was just leaving, Dad.”
“Actually I had hoped to take Stephanie out to dinner, sir. Renew our acquaintance. Talk over our future.”
Acquaintance? Stephanie’s gaze shot to her father, and she saw a muscle flex in his jaw. Her big belly suggested her relationship with Edgar had been far more than a casual acquaintance.
“Sorry,” she said to Edgar. “We’re having frozen macaroni for dinner tonight. I wouldn’t want to miss that and there’s only enough for Dad and me. Goodbye, Edgar.”
He forced a strained smile. “Perhaps tomorrow then.”
“Can’t squeeze it in. I plan to be busy cleaning toilets. You know how I love to be domestic.”
His smile turned into a scowl. Reaching into his pocket, he produced a small, blue-velvet box and placed it with a determined snap on the cluttered coffee table. “Maybe this will change your mind, give you a glimpse of what I can offer you. I’ll drop by in the morning for your answer.”
He whirled, and Harlan stepped out of his way as Edgar marched into the kitchen. The outside door slammed behind him.
Stephanie exhaled and eased the tension in her shoulders, although she couldn’t manage to slow the pulse beating in her throat.
“What was that all about?” her father asked.
“Edgar has decided we ought to get married.”
Raising his eyebrows, Harlan said, “I gather you told him no.”
“Emphatically.”
He crossed the room and took Stephanie in his arms, hugging her. “Are you sure, sweetie? You used to think you loved him.”
“I was a fool and fell in love with the glitter, Dad. There wasn’t any substance.” Why had it taken so long for her to realize that? Perhaps she’d needed to see the contrast between Danny’s enduring nature and Edgar’s fake facade before she could fully appreciate the difference.
“You’re going to be fine. You’ll see. I never did much like that young man.”
He patted her back as she rested her head on his shoulder, and she remembered all the times her father had reassured her, promising to make everything all right again. In the long run, even after the death of her mother, his promises had come true.
“Are you going to take a look at what’s in the box he left?”
“Not much point when I’m going to give it back.”
Cocking his head, he eyed her skeptically. “You’re not just a tiny bit curious?”
In spite of herself, she giggled. Her father knew her too well. “It’s probably huge, exorbitantly expensive and wouldn’t suit my taste at all.”
“Good. Let’s look.” He reached for the ring box.
“Dad!”
“You ought to at least know what you’re giving up.”
Reluctance warred with curiosity. A moment passed before curiosity won, and she lifted the lid of the box.
The glittering diamond had to be a full five karats, the solitaire surrounded by a dozen smaller stones worth in combination nearly as much as the single stone.
She showed her father then snapped the box closed, not dazzled by Edgar’s show of affluence in the way she once would have been. It would be no sacrifice to give him back a gaudy ring that she’d be afraid to wear in public for fear she’d be mugged.
“I’m not giving up a thing, Dad. Edgar doesn’t love me, and that’s all I really want from the man I marry.”
She thought of Danny, and regret slid through her. He didn’t love her either. But he did care, she knew that much. She also knew if he ever did fall in love, a woman’s heart would be safe in his hands.
DANNY HEADED HOME AS SOON as his replacement from B shift
arrived at the station to relieve him in the morning.
He changed into his running shorts at his house and trotted over to Stephanie’s for their morning walk. Afterward, he’d do some wind sprints at the high school track then go for a 10K run. With only three days until the triathlon, his training had peaked. Now he only had to stay loose and not overdo.
Rapping his knuckles on Stephanie’s back door, he went inside without waiting for an invitation.
His breath lodged in his lungs at the sight of her standing in the middle of the kitchen wearing a bright maternity blouse, her walking shorts and holding a huge bouquet of red roses in her arms. A sudden stab of jealously punctured the image of her waiting expressly for him.
“Where did those come from?”
She hummed an unintelligible sound. “Edgar dropped by last night.”
“Edgar? What did he want?”
“He, uh, proposed.”
That news slammed into Danny’s gut, almost doubling him over in pain. A man who shows up with that many roses in hand is serious about getting married.
Fury replaced the pain lancing through his stomach, and he clenched his hands into fists. He wanted to find this Edgar jerk, knock him around a little, and tell him that he couldn’t have Stephanie. She belonged to him, Danny Sullivan. The same guy who’d gone to all those childbirth classes with her. The one who had lugged the crib into the house and put it together for the baby. The one who had made love to Stephanie—twice—after Edgar had dumped her. And he wanted to do it again.
But he didn’t have the right. She’d loved Edgar first. She was carrying his baby, not Danny’s. He’d lost them both.
He gritted his teeth. “What the hell took him so long to decide to marry you?”
She opened her mouth to respond but the front doorbell chimed, interrupting her. Nobody came to the Gray’s front door except strangers. Friends and neighbors used the back.
She glanced toward the living room. “That’s probably him now.”
“Great,” Danny muttered. “I’ll just slip out the back and—”
“No. I’d like you to stay.”
Something in her eyes brought him up short, a mix of anxiety and alarm. “What’s wrong?”
With Courage and Commitment Page 15
