by Ray, Francis
“I do.”
Her eyes misted. She stepped back. He’d stayed last night and this morning out of fear and obligation. “You can leave now. You must have things to do.”
He turned with shadows still lurking in his midnight black eyes. “I’m not going anyplace until I know you’re feeling better.”
“But I do.” She just hoped she stayed that way. “In any case, I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”
“Not if we’re planning our wedding,” he said, taking her hands again. “Marriage would solve everything.”
She shook her head and retook her seat. “Obviously you haven’t been around a lot of married people. I admit the Graysons seem to have it right, but they’re the lucky ones.”
“Where are you going?” He sat beside her.
“Home to Austin, then to my next assignment,” she informed him.
He studied her for a moment. “How long do you plan to stay in Austin?”
“Two weeks, then I’m flying out to Playa del Carmen to do a follow-up on the Navarone Resort and Spas on Riviera Maya. Sierra invited me down there.”
“Then you’d want to be at your best.” He took her hands again. “I’m asking you to give me the two weeks to get to know each other better, to think about us getting married.”
“Lance—“
“Hear me out,” he interrupted. “You could have your own room and a cook and housekeeper at your beck and call. You wouldn’t have to do anything but rest, relax, and hang around the pool.”
“I’m not going to Tucson with you.” She pulled her hands free.
“You wouldn’t have to. I bought the Yates house.”
She stared at him in astonishment. She’d wanted someone to purchase the house who would appreciate and love it. “When?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “The sale was finalized just last week, but I put a contract on the house the day after I first saw it.”
“And you didn’t tell me when I asked about the owner?”
“I didn’t tell anyone, not even Richard. I don’t discuss my life.”
“So I’m learning.” She came to her feet. “You were a tremendous help, but I’d like to rest and make some phone calls.”
“You’re kicking me out?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way exactly.”
“But it amounts to the same thing.”
“Yes.”
He stood, paced in frustration. “What do I have to say or do that will make you stay? I’m just asking for two weeks. You can’t tell me you’re carrying my child and then leave.”
Fallon realized he might say he believed her, and he might, but he was still scared. “I’m sorry, Lance. It wasn’t my intention to make this difficult for you. Please try to understand.”
“I’m asking for that same understanding. Two weeks where you’ll be pampered and fed real food that doesn’t come from a can so you’ll be ready for your trip to Mexico.”
She rubbed her stomach. “Food isn’t high on my list now.”
“Maybe not now, but soon. You love to eat. Let me take care of you so you’ll be able to enjoy Mexico,” he cajoled.
Fallon was thoughtful. “When I was there before I didn’t get a chance to go scuba diving.”
Lance’s eyes widened in horror. “You can’t be thinking of doing that now?”
“I’ll let my doctor decide.” She placed her hand on his when his frown didn’t clear. “I plan to have a healthy baby. I won’t do anything to jeopardize that. I’ll keep our baby safe. Don’t worry.”
“Do you mind giving me your mother’s home phone number?”
Because he’d asked and not demanded, she told him the number and watched him put it in his cell phone contact list. “Call me if you change your mind.”
“I won’t.” She opened the door. “Good-bye.”
Lance got inside his car, started the motor, but didn’t put the car in gear. Fallon was going to have his baby. He was going to be a father. His hand shook when he reached to put the car in gear.
A father. And this time he’d get to see and hold his child, but for how long? He stared at Fallon’s closed door. What was he missing? He had hammered through business deals that others thought impossible. He was used to coming out the winner.
Except where women were concerned. His hands flexed on the gear knob. First his mother had chosen Jim Banks over him; then Cissy Douglas had dumped him as her date for their senior prom and gone with the football captain instead; then Melissa Sevens had broken up with him when he was a sophomore in college because he didn’t make enough money working at the auction house to take her to “nice places.”
He really thought he’d finally gotten it right when he met Ashley and she moved in. Finally he’d found a woman who thought he was enough.
Only she hadn’t. If she had, she wouldn’t have gone to the clinic. He’d walked out of his condo and never returned. Three days later he’d sent a moving service to pick up his things. According to the owner of the service, Ashley had already moved out. That was three years ago, and sometimes the betrayal felt as if it had just happened. Lance honestly didn’t know how he would have reacted if she’d told him she was pregnant. He just knew that he would have wanted his child and would have done anything to keep it safe.
I’ll keep our baby safe.
Fallon’s words came back to him. He believed her, but she also planned to go on with her life without him. That he wouldn’t allow. This time he’d be enough!
He pulled out his cell and dialed Richard’s number. It was almost one Sunday afternoon. Perhaps he and Naomi were talking to Kayla or doing something else innocent.
“I’m really going to kill you,” came Richard’s snarled voice.
“Is Fallon all right?” asked Naomi in a breathless voice.
So they weren’t talking to Kayla. “Sorry. Fallon is resting. Can I speak with Richard, please?”
“Make it quick.”
“I asked Fallon to marry me and she said no.” It still rankled.
He heard a rustling sound. “Did you tell her you cared about her?”
Lance shifted in his seat. “She’s carrying my baby.”
“Lance, this is not a business deal. No woman is going to say yes—unless she’s a gold digger—to a cold marriage proposal.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” he defended.
“Oh, poor Fallon,” he heard Naomi whisper. He looked back at the closed apartment door. At least he didn’t think it was that bad.
“She plans to leave tomorrow morning.” Just the thought made him restless and on edge. “I purchased the house I auctioned the contents from and asked her to spend the next two weeks with me there so we could get to know each other better and she could rest.”
“And probably just as businesslike as you said now.” Richard snorted.
“Fallon deserved better.”
From the clarity of the comment Naomi had spoken into the phone, Lance didn’t think of asking Richard to move so they could talk privately. He’d made it clear last night that he and Naomi had no secrets. They shared everything.
Lance knew that some secrets were too painful to share.
“I want her to stay,” was all he could think to say.
“For the baby or for Fallon?” Naomi asked.
He wasn’t that inept or stupid. “For both.”
“Then she has to feel she matters,” Richard said. “You have to convince her to stay.”
Lance was shaking his head before Richard finished. “You know I can’t do that, and why.” He wouldn’t be vulnerable to a woman again.
“I also know you were miserable when she left the first time,” Richard came back. “You want to chance it again? And this time the stakes are much higher.”
He didn’t. “I’m not sure I can do as you ask.”
“Then you better find out and in a hurry,” Richard said. “If you can’t say the words, do something to show her until you can.”
“Just like you did for me,” N
aomi whispered.
Lance could almost visualize them kissing and wanted them back on track. They had their happiness. He was trying to get his. “What do you suggest?”
“Since my beautiful wife is shaking her pretty head at me, you’ll have to come up with the answer on your own,” Richard said.
“It has to come from you or it won’t count,” Naomi said into the receiver. “Fallon is a wonderful woman. If you can’t see that and appreciate her … maybe you’re not the right man for her.”
“No other man is touching her,” Lance snapped.
“Since I know your emotions are running high right now, I’ll overlook you shouting at my wife. But I wouldn’t do it again if I were you.”
Lance took a deep breath, then another, and remembered their help again. “Naomi, I’m sorry. Richard, it won’t happen again.”
“Apology accepted,” Naomi said. “Now, get off this phone and make Fallon happy.”
“Good-bye, Lance, and lose the phone number unless it’s a real emergency.”
“But—,” Lance began, but Richard had hung up on him again.
He needed help. He’d never dated much, never been around that many men discussing how to treat and handle women, so he hadn’t a clue of what to do. Lance put away the phone and started the motor.
Maybe if he went back to the Yates house, he’d think of something.
Chapter 11
Late Sunday afternoon, just after twilight, Fallon was trying to make herself eat the bowl of canned chicken noodle soup in front of her without much success. Just a few more bites and then she’d go lie down. She’d already packed for her morning flight.
And she’d leave Lance behind. She lowered the spoon, then placed her hand over her stomach. “We’ll love him even if he won’t let himself love us.”
A knock sounded on the front door. Her heart leaped. Lance.
She got up from the table. He’d probably come back to try to bulldoze her into living at the Yates house with him for two weeks or to marry him. She wasn’t going to do either, but she admitted to herself that she’d like to see him before she left.
Opening the door, she saw Lance wearing a white polo shirt and black jeans. He was carrying a handled shopping bag with the Red Cactus logo. She didn’t think it possible, but her mouth watered.
Lance held up the bag and stepped forward, forcing her to move aside or be run over. “Tortilla and chicken soup.” He continued for the kitchen. “You can have your choice.”
Fallon, her hand on her stomach, followed. She watched him take down two bowls and remove the containers of soup. She imagined he’d learned where things were earlier.
“Have a seat,” Lance instructed. “Brandon said there’s soup on the menu every day.”
Fallon, who had been reaching for the back of her chair, abruptly stopped. “You told him.”
His gaze on hers, Lance pulled out the chair for her. “Only that you weren’t feeling well and I thought you’d like some soup.”
Fallon took the seat. “I-I’m just not ready to tell people yet.”
“We’ll announce it together when the time comes.” He placed the two bowls in front of her, then handed her a soupspoon. “Enjoy, but eat slowly.”
Fallon was still caught on the announcing together, but the aroma pulled her toward the food. She’d barely eaten in the last week for fear of becoming sick. She was almost afraid to eat.
“Just a couple of bites to see how your stomach likes it.” Lance took the seat next to her.
Fallon spooned in a sip of the chicken soup, waited a few moments, then took another sip. So far, so good.
“There was a line out the restaurant door again.” Lance braced his arms on the table. “It’s a good thing Brandon said to give your name to get a seat. I got dirty looks again, which I ignored.”
”I thought you ignored them the night we had dinner there.” The soup really was good.
“I tend to ignore things that aren’t important to me,” he said. “You looked beautiful at the wedding. Did you pick the gown up in Los Angeles?”
She grunted. “I’ll ignore the first comment and answer the second. Yes.”
He lifted a dark brow. “I’m noted for my ability to discern quality and beauty. You looked great and so did the bride.”
“She did, didn’t she?” Fallon’s face softened; then she giggled. “I hope the photographer got a picture of Richard with his mouth open in stunned amazement.”
“He did.”
“Good.” Fallon dipped her spoon into the bowl and found it empty. She frowned.
Lance reached across the table, picked up the bowl, then rinsed it out. “I’ll put up the tortilla soup and the rest of the chicken soup for later.” Opening the refrigerator, he poured her a small glass of ginger ale and placed it in front of her.
Fallon picked up the glass and sipped. She had to admit that it felt good to be taken care of and waited on. “Thank you.”
Lance finished putting things away and cleaning up the kitchen before taking his seat next to Fallon again. Phase one accomplished. He’d distracted Fallon so she wasn’t worried about being sick and had actually eaten. She now had a little color in her cheeks. With rest and care she’d get rid of those dark circles as well.
On to phase two. He pulled out his cell phone and opened the photo app. “I wanted to get your opinion on a couple of things.”
Fallon leaned over to see Lance standing beside a tree. “You’re doing more landscaping at the Yates—I mean, your house?”
“You might say that.” He looked at the photo, then at her. “I remember you saying that your parents planted a tree when they brought Megan home from the hospital. I thought, why wait to celebrate our child. “
“What?” She straightened.
Lance slid the photo file on the cell phone. “Here are the choices of pots at the nursery. They’re closed now, but we could go in the morning to select one … if you’d like. Francisco thinks we should plant it in the ground, but regardless, he’s promised to help take care of it.”
“You want to plant a tree?” she asked as if she was having trouble taking it all in.
“Your parents might not have been aware of it, but they started a beautiful tradition that I’d like to continue, only do it a little earlier.” Reaching into the handled bag on the floor, he pulled out an embossed raspberry-colored journal and handed it to her. He’d chosen it because it was the color of her knit top when she came to the Yates house. “The Yateses had the right idea about leaving something behind. I thought you could keep track of things for the baby so one day he or she could pass it down to their child.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Lance.”
His chest felt tight. “Don’t cry. It wasn’t supposed to make you cry.”
She smiled through her tears and hugged the journal to her breasts. “They’re good tears.” Leaning over, she kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you. Our baby will know what a wonderful father he or she has.”
Lance was glad Fallon was looking at the journal instead of at him. He didn’t plan on being a long-distance father. A quick change of plans. “It’s still light outside. What do you say we take a drive out to the house and pick out a couple of spots for the pot or the tree?”
“I—”
“The trip will be the first note in the journal,” he tempted. “It won’t take long.”
She bit her lower lip in indecision; then she smiled at him again. “All right. Let’s go.”
* * *
Maybe it was feeling better, the good food, or just Fallon wanting to spend part of the last evening in Santa Fe with Lance, or perhaps she just wanted to give him some good memories to replace the horrible ones of losing his first child.
Or perhaps a little bit of each, but against her better judgment, she was going to Lance’s house again.
She thought she might feel awkward on seeing the guest cottage where they’d first made love. She didn’t. She reasoned it might have something to do w
ith the baby she carried. She wouldn’t lie to herself. There were moments that she wished she and Lance had been married when she conceived, but she loved her baby regardless. Motherhood was a scary prospect, but she had eight months to adjust.
Lance kept the conversation going smoothly as they walked the grounds searching for the perfect spot to place the sycamore tree.
“I think it should be by the front door.” Lance looked around the garden near the pond.
“I Googled the tree and they can grow eighty feet or more. Let’s plant it here in the ground where the tree branches can shade him or her and later their grandchildren can climb,” Fallon said softly, her arm circling her stomach.
Lance nodded, swallowed. “Then here it is.”
She didn’t know if he was thinking of the child he’d lost or the child she carried. He was inches away from her and it seemed like miles. She didn’t know if losing his child had made him so self-contained or something else in his past, or a combination of the two. She did know he had a wall built around him that she wasn’t sure she could scale.
They had been lovers, but they were practically strangers. Now they were going to be parents. How could they ever hope to be anything meaningful to each other and raise a child together if they didn’t talk about their innermost fears, their hopes, and their dreams?
Fallon wanted to touch him, comfort him, and this time she didn’t hesitate. She circled his waist with her arm and looked up at him. We’ll always love you. “What if we get two trees?”
His stunned gaze snapped to hers; then he looked out over the verdant backyard. “Two it is.”
“I better get back.” Her arms dropped to her sides and she stepped away.
His reaction was immediate.
“Stay. We’ll help Francisco plant the trees.”
She wanted to. “I think it’s best you take me back.”
“For whom?” He caught her arms. “What do you want from me? I’m doing the best I can.”
The last sentence shocked her. It was more than just him asking her to stay. The pain in his voice went much deeper.
He let her go so quickly she swayed. His hand shot out to steady her, then released her again. “I’ll take you back.” He stepped aside for her to continue on the winding path back to the car.
