SIN CITY WEDDING

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SIN CITY WEDDING Page 5

by Katherine Garbera


  "I'm trying to understand. But your lack of trust makes it damned hard."

  "I know. Remember earlier when you asked me about my grandfather?" she asked, sorting through her past and finding one of the things that seemed safest to tell him. Jake came from a wealthy family with history and pride. And she'd never had a real family until Peter. She'd never felt she'd missed out until she'd had her son and realized what life could've been like.

  He leaned against the doorjamb, no less intimidating in the more relaxed pose. "Yes."

  His black T-shirt stretched across his chest and she wished she'd never left his arms earlier. He was too handsome for his own good. He could be dirt poor and he'd still have a legion of women after him.

  If she'd stayed in his arms earlier, nature would have taken its course and she could have avoided this conversation. But she was vulnerable where Jake was concerned. She didn't want to create any further bonds between them and risk the chance that she'd be hurt when he left. And she knew he'd leave. No man had ever stayed. Starting with her grandfather, before she was even born.

  "Well, I never knew him. He and my mom had a falling-out before I was born. He disowned her over her choice of husband."

  "Your father?"

  She nodded. No way was she ever going to call Reilly Payton her father. The man had made it clear that society may have demanded he do his duty by her mother, but father was one role he'd never wanted to play. She'd legally changed her name to Nielsen when she'd turned 18.

  "What's that got to do with you keeping Peter's birth from me?"

  She took a deep breath, mentally crossed her fingers and bowed her head. She'd learned early on that if she was going to tell a half-truth it was easier if she wasn't looking the person in the eye. "I didn't want your family to disown you because of me."

  "Sweetheart, look at me," he said.

  She glanced up at him, hoping he'd let the subject drop. "Yes?"

  "That's the biggest whopper I've ever heard. You know Wes and I are brothers and he liked you. My family could care less about your past or where you came from."

  She'd forgotten about Jake's college roommate and friend, Wes. Wes was still like a second son to Jake's parents. But she knew that his parents would have minded having a daughter-in-law who'd done the same thing to their son that her mother had done to the Payton boy twenty-five years earlier. And Savannah society would have remembered it too. The Paytons were old money and her parents had been the talk of the town. If there was one thing those Southern ladies liked, it was scandal and gossip. Larissa had decided long ago she'd had her fill of being fodder for them.

  "I'm sorry. The truth is my mom got pregnant to trap my…" She didn't know what to call the man who'd married her mom and then refused to have anything to do with the child they'd created. Certainly not father. Never father.

  "…her boyfriend into marriage. I couldn't do that to you."

  Jake cursed savagely under his breath. He pushed his hands through his hair and watched her. He entered the kitchen, walking toward her with a slowly measured gait. He stopped when there was about six inches of space between them. But she still felt dwarfed by his physical presence. She tried to step back, but the counter stopped her.

  "Did you get pregnant on purpose?" he asked her. She couldn't gauge his mood. Suddenly she felt very small and awkward. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she stared at his chest and whispered, "No, I'd never do that."

  Jake took her chin in his large, warm hand, tipping her head back until their eyes met. "Then why would I think you had trapped me?"

  She couldn't think when his breath brushed over her cheek like that. When his eyes looked down on her with a tenderness she'd thought never to see in them again. When he pulled her into his embrace and wrapped his arms around her. Oh, God, this was what she'd been afraid of. Leaning on Jake felt right in the seat of her soul and she knew that he wouldn't stay, but she couldn't help herself.

  Didn't want to step away. They didn't move from each other's arms until Peter came into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

  Her heart was heavy with fears and hope swirled together. She wanted to believe the promise Jake offered her, but she feared as soon as she did, she'd end up getting hurt.

  * * *

  Jake sat on the couch with Peter reading Jake's favorite book Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Rings to him. Peter was fascinated by the world of Middle-earth and was rapt in his attention.

  Jake glanced at the mantel clock. What was taking Larissa so long? "I'm going to check on your mom. Do you want to watch some TV?"

  "Yes, please, Daddy," Peter said with a smile.

  They'd had a lot of fun this afternoon together. He and Larissa had told Peter that Jake was his father. Peter had been overjoyed at the news and had started calling him "Daddy" almost immediately. He said the word so often, Jake realized how much his son had missed having a father.

  Jake turned the television on and left his son watching Arthur. Larissa had provided a long list of acceptable television programs on a laminated four-by-six-inch card for Jake when they'd moved in. He also had cards on acceptable words to use—apparently shut up, stupid and idiot were forbidden, as well as every curse word. There was an approved food list, which Jake had noticed was lacking his favorite cereal. He'd added it to the list with a Sharpie pen and put it on the kitchen counter where she'd see it when she fixed breakfast tomorrow morning.

  He went down the hall to the guest bedroom he'd given Larissa. He didn't question it, but there was a sense of rightness to having her under his roof. And for him being responsible for her and their son.

  It felt right in his gut. He sensed this was what his father must feel when the entire family was assembled at their home. It was the first time he'd ever felt anything in common with his dad and it felt … weird.

  He rapped on her door. "You ready?"

  "I don't know," she opened the door, and nervously stepped back.

  "How do I look?" she asked.

  She looked too damned good to be someones mom. Her dress was a feminine bit of silk that teased him with its demureness. Teased him with the hint of sexuality beneath that flounced skirt ending just above the knees and the scoop neckline that hinted at her cleavage.

  "You look fine."

  "Just fine?" she asked, hurrying back over to the mirror and patting her hair once more.

  "What's wrong with fine?" he asked, lounging against the door frame. He was fascinated to see the normally unflappable Larissa so unsure of herself. He'd never known her to worry about what she was going to wear.

  "I'm meeting your family for the first time. Plus I'm bringing scandal down on them. I think I should look better than fine."

  She did, but he wasn't going to reveal anything more to her. Her features were drawn and she looked more nervous now than she had in the doctor's office earlier when they'd had the paternity test done.

  He left the doorway and entered the room. The bed was piled with discarded clothing. He wondered if this went back to what she'd said the other day about her grandfather. How did knowing your family had rejected you before you were born affect someone? For all his problems with his father, he knew the old man loved him and would always be there for him.

  "What's this all about, Rissa?"

  She sighed and sank down on the clothes strewn on the double bed. "I don't want to go."

  He sat down next to her. Her perfume was faintly floral and sexy to him. But then everything about Larissa was. He reached for her hands, which she had clenched tightly into fists on her lap. He pried her hands open and held them loosely in his own.

  She tipped her head to the side and looked up at him. It was a beseeching look that made him want to give her whatever she asked for. But at the same time, they were in this predicament because of her actions. He lifted one eyebrow in silent question.

  She licked her lips and then turned her head toward her lap again. "It was hard enough telling you about Peter. I don't think I
can face your family."

  "There's no other choice. You have to go with me so we both know how to handle the media. Nicola was clear on that point."

  "I wish Jasmine Carmody had never called me," she said, looking up at him again.

  "I'm glad she did despite the trouble she's caused. Jasmine Carmody has given me my son."

  Larissa said nothing, but her eyes revealed the truth. And the truth wasn't a pretty and nice thing. It was that this woman would have rather run away than face him with the news of his own son.

  He cursed under his breath and stood, walking away from her. Every time he thought he'd forgiven her, he was reminded he hadn't. Spending two hours in the toy store with his son had gone a long way toward showing him what he'd missed out on all these years. And now she was telling him again that she regretted telling him the truth.

  He clenched his fists and walked toward the front door. "Get your purse, Larissa. We're leaving."

  "Jake…"

  He didn't pause or turn to look at her. She'd made her decisions. Now he'd made his. He'd see Marcus tonight at Crofthaven and set the custody suit in motion. It was obvious to him, no matter what Larissa said, she couldn't be trusted where Peter was concerned.

  He was willing to cut her a little slack because of her upbringing, and he understood that she'd had a rough shake early in life. But Jake wasn't responsible for another man's mistakes and he wasn't going to keep paying for them.

  Her hand on his arm stopped him and he pivoted to face her.

  "I'm sorry," she said suddenly.

  He realized she was trying to tell him something else. But he'd never been good at reading minds and didn't think he was suddenly going to get better at it.

  "For?"

  "Everything."

  "Don't be sorry for everything. That's too big a burden for your shoulders. We're both responsible for this mess and I'm not going to let you continue to carry it alone."

  * * *

  Larissa felt small and very out of place in the grand foyer of Crofthaven. Peter leaned closer to her and she stooped to pick up her son as Jake gave their coats to Joyce Jones, the housekeeper. Jake exchanged pleasantries with the woman and then cupped his hand under Larissa's elbow, leading her down the hall.

  "Where are we going?" Larissa asked.

  "To the library. Relax."

  "I can't. This place is intimidating."

  "It's just a house," he said.

  "It's not just a house. It's a historical landmark. It's your family's mark on Savannah and I feel like an interloper."

  "Relax," he said again. "I didn't grow up here."

  He rubbed Peter's head and their son glanced up at him. "Ready to meet your family?"

  Peter didn't answer, just stuck his thumb in his mouth and held tighter to her neck. "Maybe I should have gotten a sitter."

  "We don't need a sitter," he said. "What a couple of cowards you two are."

  "Am not," Peter said, squirming in her arms to be put down. "I'm just as brave as Frodo."

  Jake ruffled his son's hair. "I knew you were."

  Peter glanced up at Larissa. "Mommy's not so brave."

  "Then we'll be brave for her," Jake said, stooping down to Peter's eye level.

  Peter nodded and slipped his hand into hers. He gripped hers tightly and smiled up at her. And she felt an infusion of love for her son and for his father. Jake was taking this task of being a father very seriously and she regretted that she'd waited so long to let him know he was a dad.

  "Ready?" Jake asked.

  She nodded and followed Jake into the library. The librarian in her was in awe. Private collections like this one were the stuff dreams were made of. She almost forgot her nerves. Despite his courageous words in the hall, Peter seemed to have picked up on her apprehension and now clung to her leg. She rubbed his back, focusing on Peter and not the others in the room.

  There were five people in the room. Jake's uncle, Abraham Danforth, and Wesley Brooks were at the computer desk on the far side of the room. She knew Wes from college, "Honest" Abe from the articles she'd read in the newspaper about him and his family. Abe was the patriarch of the Danforths, a retired Navy Seal who was currently running for the senate.

  There was a couple on the couch who stood when they entered. They had to be Jake's parents. There was too much emotion in their gazes for them not to be. They both eyed her and Peter with curiosity. The other woman with gorgeous red hair and bright green eyes was taller than she was and Larissa was no shorty at five-seven. She had to be Abe's PR manager.

  "Is this our grandson?" Miranda Danforth asked, crossing the room. Jake's mom had blond hair worn in a sleek bob. Her eyes were a warm blue that made Larissa feel safe and comfortable.

  "Mom, this is Larissa Nielsen and my son," Jake said.

  Peter clung tighter to Larissa and wouldn't turn around and meet his grandmother at first. "I'm sorry," she said. "He's not used to meeting new people."

  "That's okay," Miranda said, running her hand down Peter's back. "Why don't you come sit down with me?"

  Larissa followed her across the room, conscious of all the others there. Wes Brooks, Jake's college roommate, looked up from the desk where he was working on the computer. He gave her a friendly smile and a wink. Larissa smiled back. She knew Jake's not officially adopted brother from their college days. And it was nice to see a familiar face in this sea of Danforths.

  Miranda seated herself on a leather sofa and Larissa sank down next to her, pulling Peter onto her lap. Harry Danforth stood on the other side of the room. Jake had followed them and he sat on the other side of Larissa. He dropped his arm over her shoulders and she felt comforted by his presence.

  As he'd said earlier, she wasn't alone in carrying this burden. But Peter had never felt like a burden to her. He'd always been her joy. And these people, Jake's clan, were lucky to have her precious son in their family.

  "Jake called me earlier about your situation—" Nicola said.

  "Pardon me for interrupting, Nicola," Miranda Danforth said. "Peter, would you like to come to the kitchen with me for some cookies and milk?"

  Peter lifted his head from Larissa's shoulder. "What kind?"

  "Peter."

  "That's okay, Larissa. Double chocolate chunk, I believe."

  "Mama?"

  "You can go, sweetie. Mrs. Danforth is your grandmother."

  "Wow. A daddy and a grandmother."

  Miranda smiled down at him. "You've got a grandfather as well as a bunch of other family."

  "Really?" Peter asked.

  "Really," she said. "I'll tell you all about them while we have our cookies and milk."

  "Okay!" Peter said, taking Miranda's offered hand and following her from the room.

  Larissa felt naked without her little boy on her lap. She laced her fingers together and tried not to pretend that she was the cause of an uncomfortable situation for this very important family.

  "I've been thinking about this all afternoon and I've come up with a solution that I think will take the heat out of anything Ms. Carmody writes."

  "Great, I'll help in any way I can," Larissa said. Jake rubbed her shoulder, and she leaned back to smile at him. He didn't smile at her, but a warmth entered his eyes that made her acutely aware of every place where their bodies touched.

  "Perfect. I think you two need to get married as soon as possible."

  Jake surged to his feet. "No way."

  For Larissa, the next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion and there was a ringing in her ears. She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but being forced to marry the man whose child she'd had wasn't it. She had the first inkling of what her mother may have felt all those years ago when she'd faced Reilly Payton and his family—trapped and doomed.

  "Excuse me," she said, standing. She walked from the room, down the long hall and out into the night.

  Any chance of forever happiness with Jake was gone in an instant, because no man could ever love a woman who'd forced him into a
marriage he didn't want.

  * * *

  Six

  « ^ »

  Jake knew he'd screwed up even before he'd felt Larissa leave the room. But one look at the condemnation shining from his father's eyes was all it took to make him feel about fourteen again. Dammit.

  He turned away from his father and focused instead on Nicola.

  "Is a marriage going to be a problem?" she asked.

  Jake had no idea. He suspected that he was the last man Larissa would marry right now, after hearing his reaction to the suggestion. But the suggestion had taken him completely off guard.

  "No, it won't be a problem, will it, Jacob?" His father, Harry Danforth, said. There were maybe two moments in his life when Jake had felt as if he'd pleased the old man. Once when he was six and won the all-city soccer kickoff, and once when he had made his first million with D&D's Coffeehouses. But for the remainder of Jake's life, he'd seen his father with the same look he had on his face now: one of disappointment.

  Even Uncle Abe and Wes were looking at him like he'd screwed up. But he knew what his father meant. He'd made this mess, now it was time to clean it up. "I don't know that Larissa wants to marry me," Jake said. Not much of an excuse but the only one he had.

  "Then convince her," Harry said.

  "I'll try." Jake stood and exited the room. He paused in the hallway and leaned back against the wall. His hands were shaking and he had that gut feeling that life was changing in a way he hadn't anticipated.

  The hallways were lit with wall sconces and Jake figured Larissa hadn't gone out the front door, but out the back into the gardens. He pushed away from the wall and moved slowly through the house. Crofthaven was a showplace, unlike his parents' more modest house.

  He stepped out into the spring evening and paused. What if he couldn't convince Larissa to marry him? He'd learned a long time ago that running away from problems wasn't a solution. But marriage? It wasn't as if he had anything against the institution, but he wasn't sure it was the right move for them.

  He heard the rustling of leaves and a soft fall of footsteps. He followed the sound until he found Larissa. She was walking around one of the smaller formal gardens in the backyard. Hedges surrounded it and there was a very European feel to this garden. A marble bench was tucked off to one side and Larissa paused next to it, then sank down on the bench. He stayed in the shadows to watch her.

 

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