A Natural Father

by Sarah Mayberry

  “I thought you must have gone home,” she said.

  He looked caught out.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. The nurse said you might not have small enough clothes for Mariella since she was so tiny, so I went and grabbed a few things for her.”

  She pulled herself higher in the bed and saw her overnight bag was sitting on the guest chair, alongside two shopping bags.

  He’d gone to her flat to collect her baby bag. She frowned, and he shifted uncomfortably.

  “I hope you don’t mind. Your keys were in your purse, and I figured Rosie and Andrew wouldn’t have a chance to stop by home on the way in…” he said.

  “It’s fine. It’s lovely, actually. I hate hospital gowns. Thank you. That was…thoughtful.”

  He was always thoughtful. She’d been so hurt and angry over the past few weeks it had been easy to ignore the many little kindnesses he showed her every day. But the truth was, even though he was no longer interested in her, he still looked out for her. To the extent that he’d actually offered to give her business back to her today.

  “Is there anything else I can get for you? Anyone else you need me to contact?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “No. Thank you for looking after me today. You always seem to be there when I need you.”

  He shrugged again and looked away. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him looking so uneasy.

  Was it because he felt guilty? Was that why he was so generous and considerate and compassionate toward her, and why he was so uneasy now? He couldn’t give her what she wanted—him—so he tried to give her everything else?

  The thought made her feel very sad. For both of them.

  “I suppose this has put you off babies for life,” she said. “All the moaning and groaning.”

  “No.”

  He glanced toward the door.

  “If you need to go, it’s okay,” she said.

  “It’s just I know you’ll have all your relatives here any minute.”

  “It’s okay. I understand. This is probably the last place you want to be.”

  He frowned, started to say something, then shook his head.

  “I’ll, um, check in with Rosie tomorrow, see how you’re doing,” he said.

  “Sure.”

  He turned for the door. She struggled to contain the words rising up inside her, but she couldn’t help herself.

  “For what it’s worth, I’m glad it was you,” she said before he could go. “I’m glad you were the one who was with me. I know that probably makes you uncomfortable, but it’s true. It’s crazy, but I can’t think of anyone who could have made me feel as safe as you did today.”

  His step faltered. She could feel heat rushing into her face.

  “Lucy,” he said. His expression was pained as he turned to look at her.

  She held up a hand. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say it. I don’t need to hear how you did me a favor again. You’re not the only guy who’d run a mile at the thought of an instant family. The miracle is probably that you even looked twice at me in the first place.”

  She knew she sounded angry and self-pitying and bitter, but she wasn’t a woman who loved easily. And for better or for worse she’d fallen in love with Dom and it was going to take more than eight weeks for her heart to mend. Maybe that made her soft or stupid, but it was just the way it was.

  “It’s not you, Lucy,” he said. “Or the baby. Believe that. No guy in his right mind would walk away from you.”

  She didn’t look up from the blanket. She didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes, or the guilt.

  “It’s not you, Lucy,” he said again.

  She could feel him watching her. She was very afraid she was about to cry.

  “You should go,” she said.

  She rolled over onto her side so her back was to the door. She waited for the sound of footsteps, but it never came. She sighed.

  “Look, I shouldn’t have said anything. Pretend I didn’t. Just go.”

  “I can’t have children.”

  His voice was so quiet, his words so totally unexpected, she almost didn’t hear him.

  She stared blankly at the wall. Then she looked over her shoulder, certain she had to have misunderstood. He stood stiffly in the doorway, his dark eyes steady on her.

  “I’m sterile, Lucy,” he said simply. “That’s why my marriage broke up, and it’s why I ended things with you, okay? Not because of anything you did or didn’t do, or because of Mariella. You are the most…” He paused and lifted a hand to rub the bridge of his nose. His shoulders lifted as he took a deep breath.

  “One day soon, some lucky bastard is going to find you and give you everything you need and want, and all of this won’t mean a thing.”

  She stared at him. She thought about the way he’d gone quiet the day they discussed Andrew and Rosie’s baby problems in her flat, and she thought about the way he’d been so distant the next day. And she remembered what he’d said to her, over and over: I did you a favor.

  For eight weeks she’d lain awake, sifting through every second of her time with him. The way he’d looked at her, the way he’d talked to her, the way he’d touched her, the way he’d made her feel. For the life of her, she hadn’t been able to understand how she’d gotten it so wrong, misread all the signals, been suckered so completely.

  And all along…

  “You walked away from me because you’re sterile?”

  “Because I can’t give you what you want.”

  Her hands clenched the edge of the blanket as she understood what he’d done: sacrificed himself—them—for her. For what he believed she wanted.

  “How do you know what I want?” she asked quietly.

  “You want more children. You think family is the purpose of life. You want brothers and sisters for your daughter. That’s more than enough to rule me out.”

  He said it like it was carved in stone, immutable, unchangeable, unarguable.

  “How do you know what I want?” she repeated, her voice louder. “Did you ask me? Did you give me the choice? Did you sit down and have a conversation with me so that I could decide what my future was going to look like?”

  He shifted his weight.

  “I didn’t want you to have to give up your life’s dream for me, Lucy. I’ve played that game before, I know how it ends. I did what I thought was best.”

  “Then you’re an idiot, Dominic Bianco!” she said. “You think guys like you grow on trees? You think people fall in love the way we fell in love every day? I did everything I could not to love you, but it was impossible and you dared to make a decision on my behalf without even consulting me?”

  She thumped the bed with her fists, her body vibrating with fury.

  “Lucy, calm down,” he said.

  “I have been miserable for two months, crying myself to sleep, dragging myself through each day, eating my heart out over you! Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!”

  He took a step forward, but she grabbed the plastic water jug from her tray table and threw it at him. It glanced off his arm and hit the ground with a clatter, water splashing everywhere.

  “You should have asked me!” she said. “You should have bloody well asked me and bloody well let me choose. You stupid, stupid idiot.”

  She was crying, her face crumpled with distress.

  “Lucy,” he said.

  He crossed to the bed and tried to take her in his arms.

  “Sweetheart, don’t cry,” he said. “Please.”

  She hit him on the chest, the shoulder, the arm but he caught her fists easily and held them to his chest with one hand as his other pulled her close. Then her head was on his shoulder and she was breathing in the warm, woody smell of him.

  “You idiot. Don’t you know how much I love you? I took my clothes off for you when I was the size of a whale. Surely that must have told you something?” she sobbed into his chest.

  She felt him press a kiss onto the top
of her head.

  “I want you to be happy,” he said quietly. “Can’t you see that? I want you to have everything.”

  She pulled back to look him in the face.

  “Life doesn’t work like that, Dom. No one has everything. And if I get to choose whether I have you in my life to love and laugh with and grow old with and lose my marbles with, I’m going to choose you every time. Every. Time.”

  He searched her face as though he couldn’t quite let himself believe what she was saying.

  “You want children,” he said.

  “Yes. Don’t you?”

  He sighed heavily, and she could see years of grief and resignation in his eyes.

  “More than anything, Lucy. But it’s not going to happen.”

  “Ever heard of adoption? Sperm donation? Fostering? How many ways do you need to have children in your life, Dom?”

  He stared at her. “Dani didn’t want to adopt. She wouldn’t even consider sperm donation.”

  Lucy reached up and grasped his chin in her hands.

  “I’m not Dani, in case you hadn’t noticed. I’m Lucia Carmella Basso, and I love you, Dominic Bianco. I want you. Anything else is a bonus.”

  For a moment Dom just stared at her. Then he closed his eyes and pulled her close, burying his face in her neck. His shoulders shook and Lucy’s arms tightened around him.

  He’d been so hurt by his ex-wife’s rejection. So wounded. Lucy held him as close as she could, trying to convey with her body how much she needed and wanted and loved him.

  “I love you, Dom. You’re more than enough for me.”

  He held her tighter, his arms like steel around her.

  “Lucy. God. I love you so much,” he said over and over.

  “I know,” she said, pressing her hand to the back of his head. “You love me so much you were prepared to give me up. I should probably warn you, I’m not that noble. I plan on hanging on to you for the rest of my life. So if you have a problem with that, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  He laughed. He pulled back to look into her face and she reached up to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

  “My sweet idiot,” she said softly, lovingly.

  Then she pulled him close and kissed him. It was like coming home after too long away. It was perfect, as good as she remembered.

  Better—because this time she understood exactly who she held in her arms and how lucky she was and how lucky he was.

  “Hey, Luce, guess who we found in the elevator? Oops!”

  “Lucia!”

  Dom broke their kiss but didn’t immediately turn to acknowledge her sister and mother. He smiled and caressed her cheek. She smiled back.

  Later, they would talk some more. He would hold her, and she would tell him over and over how much she loved him—whatever it took to remove the shadows of the doubt he’d lived with for so long.

  “Does someone want to tell me what is going on? Why are you kissing Dominic, Lucia? I thought there had been a falling out? Why does nobody tell me anything?” Sophia asked.

  Lucy’s smile broadened as she looked over Dom’s shoulder at her family. Rosie had a smug smile on her face while Andrew was doing his best to look as though he found his sister-in-law in a lip-lock with her estranged business partner after giving childbirth every day of the week. Her mother was flushed and expectant-looking, far more curious than she was outraged.

  Lucy took Dom’s hand in hers and tangled her fingers with his.

  “Relax, Ma. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  And for the first time in a long time, she knew it was true. She knew the weeks and months and years ahead would bring with them their fair share of problems and heartbreak and troubles. But she also knew she could take on anything with Dom at her side.

  She glanced at him, and he raised their joined hands and pressed a kiss to her wrist.

  She smiled. This was going to be good.

  * * * * *

  Read on for a sneak peek of FOR JOY’S SAKE, a Harlequin Superromance story by USA Today bestselling author Tara Taylor Quinn…

  CHAPTER ONE

  HER BREATH CAUGHT IN her throat, Julie Fairbanks crouched on the floor, hugging her knees, staring at the television screen. The baby who’d been born in a man-made bubble town, who’d been raised and surrounded by people who were only there to keep up appearances, was a man himself now. And about to break free…

  The creak of a door opening disrupted her concentration. Lila McDaniel, managing director of The Lemonade Stand, stood in the entranceway. All six women, lounging in various positions on the couch, chairs and floor, looked at her. Five were residents at the unique women’s shelter. Julie was a volunteer who hadn’t left after she’d finished her art therapy session. Lila’s gaze honed in on Julie.. With a sideways quirk of Lila’s head, Julie knew she’d been summoned.

  Before the show’s hero broke free.

  Smiling at the other women, she quietly left before the happy ending that was coming soon. And hoped each one of them would find the necessary strength and support to create her own happy ending.

  “What’s wrong?” Julie asked as soon as the door was closed behind them.

  Lila shook her head, but her tight gray bun hadn’t moved. “Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to have a chat with you,” the unflappable woman said. Her voice was kind—as always. And the words were issued with Lila’s usual emotional distance.

  The woman both intrigued and frightened Julie. Intrigued because Julie sensed there was so much more to Lila than her ability to maintain calm in an atmosphere of pain and fear. And watching Lila frightened her sometimes, too, because she doubted she’d ever know Lila’s sense of peace.

  For the most part she’d love to have Lila’s life. Unmarried and yet with a huge family of women and kids to tend to every day. Making a strong, positive difference in the lives of others.

  They were heading for Lila’s private suite—rooms that were her off-duty space at the Stand. Lila stayed there any time she didn’t make it home to the condo she owned in town. Julie hadn’t been aware of any situation at the Stand that had prompted the director’s need to stay over this particular early-October Friday night.

  But as a volunteer at the Stand, mostly working with the children, Julie wasn’t privy to every circumstance.

  Lila offered her tea. Julie accepted. And watched the older woman bring out the exact brand and flavor she preferred. In some ways they were so much alike, she and Lila.

  And yet, Julie knew next to nothing about the other woman’s circumstances, other than that she’d been the managing director of The Lemonade Stand since day one.

  Word was that she’d applied for the job while the resort-like shelter was under construction. She’d undergone a normal interview process and had been hired.

  From what Julie had been told, in all the years Lila had been at the shelter she’d never had a personal visitor. Not a family member or friend. And even in town, she wasn’t known well.

  That was where Julie and Lila differed. Everyone in Santa Raquel knew who Julie Fairbanks was. Many of those people she’d once considered friends. There was still a handful.

  A carefully selected, heart-vetted, very small handful.

  “How are you doing?” Lila asked, giving Julie a rare, full-on smile as she took one of the two wingback chairs on either side of the claw-foot table in her small but elegantly decorated parlor.

  “Good.” Julie nodded as she sat in the other chair, suddenly feeling as if she was onstage under bright lights. As if she could be seen but couldn’t see what was out there. “Busy,” she added. And then, perhaps to ward off whatever was coming, she continued. “The annual celebrity gala for The Sunshine Children’s League is coming up and, of course, I’m fully involved with that…” Her seat on the league’s board had won her the opportunity to chair the gala. “And Minoran Child Development is getting ready to open up a thrift shop. The red tape is endless, although Colin’s being a sweetheart and helping
out tremendously.” Lila was well-acquainted with Julie’s older brother, who not only ran the family’s prestigious law firm in town but had recently become a major donor to The Lemonade Stand.

  “I hear that Chantel is pregnant.”

  “Three months!” Julie grinned. Her sister-in-law, who now shared the family mansion with Julie and Colin, had come into their lives as an undercover cop pretending to be a member of their privileged society, and had become her best friend. “I can’t wait to have a little one in the house!” These days, that new baby was the first thing she thought of when she woke up in the morning.

  She was just the aunt. She’d maintain her proper place. But still, she couldn’t wait. “I’m going to watch the baby when Chantel goes back to work. At least for the first couple of years.” If Julie had her way, she’d be the child’s nanny until he or she went to school, but it was ultimately up to Chantel and Colin, and they all had time to figure that one out.

  Lila’s smile looked somehow…worried, suggesting that she saw some kind of sadness in Julie’s situation. In her gray skirt and blouse, with her hair in its usual bun, Lila didn’t resemble Julie’s idea of a psychic, but she felt sure the older woman had otherworldly talents of perception.

  Lila’s next words confirmed Julie’s personal opinion. “I’m concerned about you,” she said.

  “Me?”

  “Yes.”

  The woman watched her, as though waiting for Julie to confess to something. “Why?”

  “There’s a wine tasting at your home this evening.”

  She nodded again. She’d helped arrange the event that was raising money for the Santa Raquel Library fund—a cause that had become dear to her and Colin and Chantel, since the library’s fund-raising efforts had been instrumental in creating the bond the three of them shared. Chantel, while posing as a writer from a privileged family in New York, had been dating Colin as part of her cover. She’d agreed to write a script for the library’s grand opening party in the renovated mansion that had been willed to the city as a library site. The evening’s event had been a mystery caper, and Chantel had written herself right into the hands of a privileged, wealthy, respected man she’d discovered was a serial rapist—Julie’s rapist. She’d risked her own life in order to give Julie’s life back to her.