by Linda Morris
“That’s not your dad’s outlook. He sounds like he always put the team first.”
His smile held no amusement. “Wrong. He put the team first, second, and third, at least until Mom died. He did his best at single parenting after that, but he had been so uninvolved, he really didn’t know how to even be a dad, much less a mom too. Let’s just say the learning curve was steep.”
“That had to have been tough. God knows my mom makes me crazy sometimes, but I don’t know what I’d do without her. Still, I’ve always been closer to my dad. I think that’s why I got interested in sports. It was a way of spending time with him and away from my mom.”
“Makes sense. What’s wrong with your mom?”
“She’s not bad, really.” How to describe her mom? “Control freak” fit the bill, but she wasn’t sure that was what Paul was asking. “She’s very involved. Boundaries are nonexistent to her. Did I mention when I was a kid, she showed me how to put on a condom by demonstrating on a banana?”
That got his attention. “You’re kidding.”
“No. She also took me to see The Vagina Monologues when I was fourteen.”
Paul stared, the rod sagging in his hands. “The vagina what?”
Hmmm, apparently the touring company of The Vagina Monologues hadn’t made it as far as Plainview, Indiana. “It’s pretty much what it sounds like. Looking back, it was a good show, but at the time, I wanted to die of embarrassment. She’s a latter-day hippie, I suppose. Really, though, the hippie thing wasn’t what drove me nuts. It’s just, it’s all about her all the time. When she found out about Jack, she was embarrassed because she thought it reflected badly on her parenting, like she hadn’t educated me enough about birth control or something. The fact that it turned my life upside down was kind of beside the point, in her book.”
“A bit self-centered, maybe?”
“A bit. I never want to be that kind of mom.” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “You believe me, don’t you, that I tried to find you when I found out I was pregnant?”
“I do believe that.” He looked at her for a moment, those blue-gray eyes taking her measure until she had trouble holding his gaze. “I have a little more trouble with how long you waited to tell me after you found out who I was.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that. After what happened with Tony, I was scared. I have a lot of debt, and I’m still living in my parents’ basement back home …
“Okay, that’s really all an excuse. I was scared and freaked out, and it made me make a stupid decision. I had every intention of telling you eventually, but the longer I put it off, the less of an excuse I had and the harder it got. It took me way longer than it should have.”
“Better late than never.” His smile was rueful, but she had the feeling he still couldn’t quite forgive her.
Fine. She probably had that coming.
He finished off the third rig and set to the task of attaching them to the rods. “Anyway, I owe you an apology too. I wasn’t totally honest with you about my—er—meltdown in the clubhouse.” He didn’t look at her, totally focused on his task instead. The distraction seemed to make it easier for him to talk. He was that kind of guy. “Mostly I got mad because the damn stadium is falling apart and my dad won’t cosign a loan. Without his signature, the bank won’t loan us the money for the renovation, and crap like that flood, and the turf problems, is going to keep happening.”
“Mostly that’s why you got mad?”
“Yeah. Mostly.” His eyes flickered to hers for a second and then back to the rig. “I wasn’t angry about finding out I was Jack’s dad. I mean, he’s a kid. How could I be angry at him? I was shocked. It wasn’t the way I thought I’d find out I was a father.” He shook his head. “From a website, months after the birth. Between that and Alex giving me crap because he was too helpless to turn off a water valve and my dad refusing to take responsibility for the team, but tying my hands at every turn, I don’t know. I melted down.”
“It’s okay.” She shrugged. “It happens to all of us. You should have seen me for a few days after I realized I was pregnant.”
“I would like to have seen you. I would give anything to have been there for you during the pregnancy and the delivery. To be there for both of you.”
“My mom recorded it. I can have her send a copy to you so you can watch it if you want.” She meant it as a joke, but he didn’t laugh.
“I might like that, actually.” A silence fell while he tackled what must have been a particularly tough knot. “When the profile is over, when are you going home?”
She shifted on her seat, watching Jack on the deck, where he appeared to be obsessed with his feet, which were clad in little blue socks with lion heads embroidered on the toes. “I actually sent the profile to my editor a few days ago. I can go home any day.”
He jerked his head to look at her. “Really? Why haven’t you left yet?”
“I wanted to give you and Jack a little more time together. It seems the least I can do after shortchanging you up till now.” Would the guilt of keeping the truth from Paul ever fade? Some days, she wasn’t sure. “But I can’t stay forever. Jack and I are still living in my parents’ basement. Things got very tough for us when I lost my job because of Tony, and then I wound up pregnant with no insurance. Now that I’m earning money from Screwball, I can afford to get a little apartment for the two of us. It won’t be much, but it’ll be a place of our own.” She leaned forward and braced her elbow on her knees and rested her chin on her palm. Their place would have to be extremely modest.
“You had no health insurance? Does that mean you have a lot of debt?”
“Um, kinda. Yeah.”
“How much?”
She named a five-digit figure, and he whistled long and low. Discussing this with him was extremely uncomfortable for her. Why, she had no idea. He’d certainly been an eager participant in creating Jack, and he was willing to do the right thing and help out, but, for some reason, she hesitated. Taking money from him would feel like charity, even though she knew that made no sense.
“Wow.” His eyes were wide.
“Yeah, wow. I entered into a financing agreement with the hospital to help me repay the loans with interest.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll pay those.”
“It’s my hospital bill, not yours.”
“Your bill from giving birth to my baby. If I’d been in your life, I would have helped out, no question. There’s no reason for it to be any different because I wasn’t around at the time. Believe me, if I could go back in time and be there for you and Jack, I would.”
“I know you would. Paul, you don’t need to feel guilty. You didn’t do anything wrong. You missed the birth. You would have been there if you could, and I would have had you there if I could have, but it didn’t work out. We’ll move on. You’ll be an involved father, and we’ll work something out for the custody agreement.”
“And child support. I’ll pay monthly child support too, in addition to the hospital bills.”
She sighed. “I appreciate the child support, but I’m not a charity case. Those medical debts are my bills.” Why was it so important for her to hang on to those debts? They’d be like an albatross around her neck for years. Maybe because they were a sign of her commitment to Jack, a reminder of the days when it had been the two of them.
It was ironic. If Paul hadn’t wanted to be a part of her son’s life, she would have been furious and disappointed with him. But he did want to be Jack’s father, and his efforts were being eagerly embraced by his son, and she was still unsettled. His attitude was laudable, certainly, but the quick and easy bond between him and Jack made her uneasy.
Obviously she was completely nuts.
“I have the money. I make a good salary, and he’s half my responsibility. It’s not charity, Willow. It’s called being a dad. I won’t take no for an answer.” He finished with the rods and then stood to retrieve the bait worms he’d purchased from the rental shop.<
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“Thanks.” He was a good man. No doubt about that. Even if she felt like she had a little trouble measuring up sometimes, she couldn’t help but be profoundly grateful. She’d screwed up by having a child by a guy she barely knew, but the fates had stepped in and saved her ass by making him one of the most loyal, hardworking, decent men she’d ever known.
And she was getting ready to pack up and leave him behind. Sometimes, life really wasn’t very fair.
Chapter 11
“Oh my God. Oh my God. It’s a fish!” Willow’s eyes widened as Paul reeled in what looked to her inexperienced eyes like a huge striped bass.
“Get the net. You’ll need to scoop it up. Lift the fish, but don’t put it in the boat. Just bring its head up so I can get the hook out.”
She grabbed the net and leaned over the rail. The fish had struck on the middle rod, so Paul did some fancy maneuvering so she could reach it with the net. She leaned over, guided the net under the splashing, thrashing silvery body, and lifted up.
“Oh my God. It’s huge.” It had to be at least two feet long, and it was fat across the middle too. She raised the fish slightly out of the water. Paul grabbed scissors from his pocket and snipped the line, sticking the rod back in the holder. He disappeared for a moment and came back with needle-nosed pliers. After a minute of twisting, he’d removed the hook from the fish’s mouth.
“Are we going to eat it?” she asked with some trepidation. She suddenly felt sorry for the fish.
“No. Catch-and-release. We’ll pull him up for a quick picture with Jack. A boy needs a picture of his first fish.” He eyed the creature with obvious pride.
She smiled, relieved. Maybe it made her a hypocrite—she enjoyed a good fish taco as much as the next person—but she was glad they weren’t going to kill this beautiful creature.
Paul took over her grasp on the net handle, his hand brushing across hers during the transfer, sending a shimmer of heated awareness across her skin. If he felt the same, he didn’t betray it. Deftly, he pulled the monster out of the net and held it in both arms. From lip to tail, the fish was wider than he was.
He looked down at Jack. “You caught a fish, son. It was on your rod. What do you think about that?”
Willow tweaked Jack’s foot, but he only drooled and burped. Paul laughed.
“It’ll get more exciting when you’re older,” Paul said. “This is the first of many big stripers you’ll haul out of Raccoon Lake.”
A little bit of Willow’s ebullient joy faded. She wouldn’t likely be there for those trips. She’d be in Florida, living with Jack full-time, probably trying to make some kind of god-awful custody agreement work where she sent Jack up to Paul three times a year or something.
She pushed that thought out of her mind. This co-parenting with a man you weren’t with any longer thing was tougher than she’d expected, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Lots of people did it. They had to take it one day at a time, that was all. Paul was a good guy. That was more than a lot of women could say about their exes.
Was he her ex? Her never-was? Her almost-was? Her inability to put him in a box depressed her, so she pushed it out of her mind.
“Grab Jack and let’s take a picture.” She picked Jack up and nestled him into her shoulder and then extended her cell phone as far as she could, moving in close to Paul and his prize.
She wrinkled her nose. “That fish stinks.”
“Then hurry up and take the picture. Trust me, he wants to get back in the water.”
She snapped it and then looked at the pic. Paul’s cheek was nearly touching hers, his face lit with pride, and Jack’s head had lolled over, gazing in bemusement at the big creature in his dad’s arms.
They looked like a family.
“Is it a good one?”
She swallowed the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat. “Yes, it’s a good one.”
Paul leaned over the rail and lowered the fish into the water, but didn’t let it go. He maneuvered it gently back and forth instead, cupping water in one hand and splashing it over it.
“What are you doing?” She held Jack up to watch, and the baby gurgled a half laugh at the sight of his father doing something so silly.
“This moves water over his gills. It helps him get some oxygen so he can recover faster.” After a minute or so, the fish thrashed hard, leaping out of Paul’s hold. “I think he’s had enough of me.”
They all straightened as the silvery flash disappeared into the dark lake water. And watching Paul watch the fish swim away, concerned about the life of an animal most people wouldn’t think twice about, Willow knew she loved him.
She’d always known she was attracted to him, both physically and emotionally. Respect and admiration had followed. And now here was no doubt about it. She loved him, for so many reasons. For the seriousness with which he handled his responsibilities under the very toughest of conditions—as a Dudley, as a citizen of Plainview, and as the Thrashers president. She loved him for how he managed his father, one of the most difficult people she’d ever met, and still did the very best he could for the team, despite his father’s interference. Maybe most of all, she loved him for the father he’d become to Jack. Many men ran away from unexpected fatherhood, or lashed out at the mother. She should have known from the beginning Paul Dudley wasn’t cut from that kind of cloth.
Lucky fish, that it could swim away from Paul without a backward glance. When the time came for her to leave, would she be able to do the same?
*
A shower had never felt better. That night, Willow washed away lake water and grit with pleasure, staying in long enough to soak away her tiredness before she remembered she needed to save some hot water for Paul. She’d nursed Jack as soon as they returned home and once, awkwardly, on the boat, with Paul trying to look everywhere besides her bared breast, but not having much luck.
She had to admit, she hadn’t tried very hard to keep herself covered. The difficulty Paul had peeling his eyes away from the curve of her breast behind Jack’s downy head had filled her with secret joy, which he’d immediately shattered by bringing up custody agreements and child support.
“Plenty of time to talk about that later,” she’d said wearily. “Let’s just enjoy the day.”
He’d agreed with a speed that made her wonder what the hell they were doing. Did he really want out of this relationship? Did she? Was it worth giving it another try?
It was all so confusing.
She dried off and slipped into a pair of lounge pants and a thin top that did little to disguise her nursing mother status. After feeding Jack, she’d left Paul to read him a bedtime story while she showered. After only a week, she’d become slowly more comfortable with the idea of Paul being a co-parent. She wasn’t all the way there yet, but she’d made definite progress. When she left the steamy warmth of the bathroom, the artificial cold of the air-conditioned hall made her shiver. In her bedroom, Paul stood over the crib, leaning over the rail and watching Jack raptly.
Willow edged closer. “He’s asleep,” she whispered.
“Yeah. I love watching him sleep.”
“I know. He’s so peaceful.”
In the dimness, Paul’s white teeth stood out against his whiskered skin, and she felt a tug deep in her belly. She wanted so badly to reach out and feel that harsh softness against her fingertips. Without really meaning to, she edged closer to Paul, the side of her breast brushing against his arm. Heat seared through her at the touch. Her toes curled into the carpet.
He straightened, not looking at her. He’d felt something too. “I’d better hit the shower.” He moved away, but she lingered by Jack’s crib, lost in thought. A minute later, the shower started. He’d be in the bathroom now, stripping off his dirty clothes, getting under the spray. Water coursing down him.
If she was going to make a move before she went back to Florida, this was a hell of a time. It might be her last, best chance, in fact. Without letting herself think too much about wha
t she was doing, she stopped at her nightstand to grab a condom and then headed down the hall to the bathroom. She rapped briefly on the door.
“Yeah?” He sounded confused. “You forget something?”
She bit her lip in amusement, easing the door open. “Yeah, I think I did.” Steam filled the room, but she could still make out tantalizing glimpses of Paul’s body through the distorted glass of the shower door.
Placing the condom on the bathroom counter, she pulled her top over her head. Oh, God. Her heart pounded so hard she wondered crazily for a moment if he’d see it throbbing. Standing bare-breasted in front of a man when she didn’t know exactly how he felt about her was one of the scariest things she’d ever done. He could reject her. Yell at her. Throw her out.
The shower door eased open. Paul’s head emerged, water dripping off his dark blond hair. Through the opening, she saw the mouthwatering curve of a bicep leading up to a broad male shoulder.
His eyes lingered on her breasts, a smile flickering in his eyes, but his expression held wariness too. “What does this mean?”
“Mean?” She hadn’t been prepared for that. “What do you think it means?”
“It could mean a lot of things. Maybe it means we had a good day together, and you’re feeling sentimental.”
“It means more than that. I don’t know what, exactly, but I care about you, Paul. I want you. Maybe for a long time, maybe for now. I don’t know. I’m trying to be honest. That’s all I can tell you right now.” Emotions rose in a flurry, but she couldn’t sort them out, much less give them any coherent voice.
His gaze met hers. He nodded, as if he was coming to a decision. “I can live with that.” He eased the shower door open. “What are you waiting for?”
Slipping off the rest of her clothes, she grabbed the condom and joined him. He closed the door and enveloped them in a cloud of steam and heat. The smell of his soap, something piney and sharply fragrant, filled her senses. She moved into his embrace, so glad to have the chance to be back there again. Her hands ran down his shoulders and arms, wanting to memorize every detail in case it was the last time.
