Her mother’s eyebrows shot so high Mel worried they’d jump off her forehead and land in the coleslaw, and slowly, Mel’s small, secret smile turned upside down.
Her father frowned at Tara, his face redder than the Hawaiian Punch in Tara’s water glass. “Did you just say ‘Daddy’?”
Tara nodded and cast a nervous glance at Mel. “Did I say something wrong?”
Her protective mother gene kicked in and she squeezed Tara’s hand. “No, sweetie. Grandpa’s just surprised.” She scowled at her father, a silent dare to disagree.
“He’s not the only one,” her mother chimed in. “You’ve talked to your daddy?”
“Uh-huh.”
No reason for Tara to go through the Inquisition. “Sweetie, go see what Hardy’s up to. You can finish your plate later.”
Tara didn’t need a second invitation. She scrambled off her chair and bolted out of the room. When the dining room door thumped shut behind her, Mel flashed her parents a weak smile. “You won’t believe who I bumped into the other day.”
“Tara’s father, apparently.” Her father’s voice carried all the moisture of a stiff desert wind.
“He was at the game Tara went to as a bat girl—on the visiting team.” Mel kept her voice even. She couldn’t let her daddy know she had even a pang of regret for her decision. “We caught up after the game.”
“By ‘caught up,’ I assume you mean ‘sprang fatherhood on him’?” His fist thumped the table. “Dammit, Mel, you two should have had this talk years ago.”
Mel refused to look away, even in the face of her father’s anger. She’d seen him angrier, after all. Like the day she’d told him she was pregnant and didn’t know the baby’s daddy’s name. “He seems up for the challenge.”
“Really? Then where is he?”
She finally broke eye contact. Her head was starting to throb. “At his place in Arizona, I imagine. Or maybe his team’s on the road. Wherever he is, he calls to talk to Tara every day.”
At least he did now that he had his phone back in his possession.
As suddenly as her father’s anger had gathered, a smile chased the clouds away. “Good. Then you’ll have no trouble getting the deadbeat here—on a day of his choosing—for dinner.”
“I—I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Mel stammered. Despite her guilt, she was in no way ready to invite Dave that deeply into her life. For her own protection as well as his.
“Why not?”
She scrambled around her aching head for a reason her father would buy. He’d just tell her she’d already invited Dave into every aspect of her life when she let him knock her up. As if she’d asked for that to happen. “I’m sure he’s too busy to drop everything and fly to Amarillo.”
“Which is why I said ‘on a day of his choosing,’ darling.” Her father’s smile was gentle. “I want to meet my granddaughter’s father. Is that too much to ask?”
The smile reminded her just how kind her father could be. Maybe he wouldn’t tear Dave apart. She slowly shook her head, wondering why that was suddenly important to her.
“No, Daddy. I’ll see what I can do.”
****
Dave jumped when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He glanced at the number before answering, thankful it was Mel and not his father. For some reason, the old coot was being unusually persistent in his attempts to meet up with Dave.
“Hey, Mel. What’s up?”
“The cat’s out of the bag.”
“What cat?” He tried to make sense of her agitation.
“We were at my parents’ house for dinner this afternoon and Tara mentioned her daddy.”
“Is that so bad?”
“My father wants to meet you. As soon as possible.”
“Oh.” He didn’t have enough energy to deal with his own father, let alone to finesse the father of the woman he’d impregnated and then abandoned, even if he hadn’t actually done the abandoning.
But it had to be done. The man was his daughter’s grandfather, so he’d be a part of things for years to come. Best to repair the relationship now, before it deteriorated any more.
“Dave? You still there?”
He hated the uncertainty in Mel’s voice. She doubted him that much? Still? He thought he’d been making progress with the regular phone calls.
“Yeah, I’m here.” He paused to let his presence sink in. Maybe she’d finally realize he wasn’t going anywhere. “My next stretch off starts Wednesday. That soon enough?”
“Y-yes. Sure.”
Shit. Did she have to sound so surprised? He remained silent, though. He preferred to let his quick agreement do the talking. A man who wasn’t committed to his family would have made more excuses before agreeing to be there…if he bothered to show up at all.
After a few uncomfortable seconds, Mel asked, “You need a ride from the airport?”
“If you’re offering one, yes.” He chose to take her suggestion as a sign she trusted him, at least a little. “I’ll let you know my itinerary as soon as I make the arrangements.”
He wasted no time booking a flight and letting Mel know he’d land in Amarillo at one o’clock her time. As he hung up a second time, travel plans in place, it occurred to him she likely said she’d pick him up because she didn’t trust him to find his way there under his own steam.
Crap. Dave plunked down on his couch. He clearly needed to fix Mel’s low opinion of him.
Exactly how, he didn’t know.
Chapter Nine
Mel bounced from foot to foot in the arrivals area of the Amarillo airport Wednesday afternoon. The steady flow of travelers slowed to a trickle before Dave strolled through the gate.
Damn, he looked fine. He walked tall and proud, his shoulders impossibly broad in a burgundy suit jacket. He carried a duffel the same color as his coat—his team colors.
When, for once, her smile didn’t feel forced, Mel realized she was glad to see him. “Welcome back, Muscles.”
He studied her for a moment before dropping his bag at his feet. Then he stepped up and folded her into a hug. His arms circled her waist, pressing her tightly against his flat stomach and broad chest. Her nerve endings started to sing, especially the bits of her rubbing all that hard muscle. Mmm.
“You feel even better than you look.” The thought popped out of Mel’s mouth before she could stop it. Her cheeks burned, and she could only hope the words were too muffled by his jacket for him to hear.
No such luck. His chest shook with laughter. “If I’d expected such a friendly greeting, I’d have come back sooner.”
Mel flattened her palms against his shoulders and he let her go. What the hell had she been thinking, falling into his arms like that? Just because he was trying to build a relationship with Tara didn’t mean he wanted one with her. After what she’d done, she was probably the last person he’d consider getting romantic with.
As she edged farther from him, she muttered a “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize on my account.” That bone-melting grin of his appeared and she wondered if she was off base. “I could get used to Texas.”
Mel turned away and started walking. She needed to put some distance between them to control her unruly hormones. “The car’s this way.”
His bag scraped along the floor before he fell into step beside her. “Where’s Tara?”
“Still in school. Lu’ll watch her while we have dinner with my folks.” So much for distance. Despite her attempt to walk a straight line, she kept drifting toward him.
He’s here for Tara, not you. If she reminded herself of that fact a few hundred more times, maybe she’d avoid any more embarrassment.
They drove in silence for a while before Dave cleared his throat. “Anything I need to know before I walk into your parents’ place?”
“Besides the obvious?” She slanted him a sideways glance.
“I don’t expect to be your father’s favorite person, Li-Mel.”
“Good, because you
’re not.” When Dave’s mouth tightened, she rushed on in an attempt to put him at ease. “Don’t worry. He doesn’t blame you for not being around.”
****
Dave studied Mel’s profile. As usual, she seemed completely unaffected by the choice she’d made. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
Her eyes remained fixed on the road. “I thought it might, yes.”
“Well, you thought wrong.” Dave’s temple began to throb, and he reminded himself to take deep breaths. He needed to stay calm to make the best possible impression on her folks. With his heart rate back under control, he laid a hand on her knee. “I’m sorry.”
Wait a minute. Why was he apologizing to Mel when it was her fault he was just now meeting her parents? If she’d tracked him down when she found out she was pregnant, he could have been a part of the family all along.
Yeah, right. His conscience, which sounded a lot like Matt, sneered at him.
Okay, so maybe he wouldn’t have manned up then. He was here now. That’s what mattered. “How much longer until we get there?”
“Not long now.”
“Then pull over. There’s something I need to tell you.”
She eased the car to the shoulder of the highway and focused all her attention on him. Her anxiety loomed between them, and he knew his next words could make or break their afternoon. With so much pressure to say the right thing, his throat went dry.
Good thing he’d rehearsed it in the mirror so many times that the words came back to him.
“Before we walk into your parents’ house, we need to make sure you and I are on the same page. Tara’s right here.” He grabbed her wrist and pressed her hand to his chest, over his heart. He swallowed hard and wondered how she’d react to his impending declaration. He’d turned it over in his mind many times since talking to her last Sunday. The best plan he’d come up with to convince her of his intentions was to lay everything on the line. “So are you, Mel. Whether you like it or not.”
Her tongue darted over her lower lip. It reminded him of the spell her mouth was capable of weaving and he shifted in the Honda’s bucket seat.
It took a Herculean effort to tear his eyes away from her magic mouth. “Maybe we should get back on the road.”
The pulse at the base of her throat jumped before she put her hands back on the steering wheel. “Okay.”
Dave frowned. That was it? Just ‘okay’? He’d as much as said he loved her and all she could say was ‘Okay’? “Mel—”
“We shouldn’t keep Daddy waiting.” With that, she swung the car back onto the road and sped down the highway, toward the confrontation he dreaded.
They arrived at Mel’s parents’ house within the hour. As Dave exited the car, he gaped at the expanse of lush green grass surrounding the massive structure that could probably hold his apartment ten times over. “You didn’t tell me your father was Daddy Warbucks.”
Her lips curved into a faint smile. “There are lots of things I haven’t told you.”
“Yet.” He brushed his lips against her ear and she shivered.
He still relished her responsiveness, and was surprised when she started to rush up the steps. He caught her by the wrist. “Mel, wait.”
As she doubled back to his side, he thought he heard her mutter, “Haven’t you tortured me enough yet?” Her green eyes narrowed. “What now?”
“Will I be facing a firing squad?”
“My parents are always civil.” She flashed him a tight smile. “All this cash buys impeccable manners.”
He considered asking what happened to her, then, but refrained. Her manners were just fine with everyone except him.
“Let’s get in there, then.” He put his hand at the small of her back to guide her up the stairs.
She didn’t pull away. He hoped it was because of the gamble he’d taken in the car. Constantly having to prove his good intentions was wearing him out.
A uniformed housekeeper had the door open before they reached the top step.
“Welcome back, Miss Melinda.”
“Hi, Sheila. Are Mamma and Daddy in the library?”
“As always.”
Dave followed her down a long, dark hallway, past five or six different doors. He had a sinking feeling he was way out of his league.
She pushed open a door and stepped through it. She pulled him in by the hand. “Mamma, Daddy, meet Dave.”
The first thing he noticed was light. As dark as the hallway had been, the library was blindingly bright. Sunlight reached every corner of the room. He shielded his eyes so he could focus on the shadowy figure that rose when Mel made her introduction.
“You have a last name, son?”
Dave gulped. Ridiculous for him to feel so ill at ease. Mel’s father was a man, like any other, even if his accent was thicker than Texas barbecue sauce. “Reynolds. Dave Reynolds.”
“And you’re my granddaughter’s father.”
“I am.” For good measure, he added, “Sir.”
“You have manners. I like that.” Mel’s father gestured to a chair. “Have a seat, Dave. And call me Ted.”
“Okay…Ted.” Dave sat. Triumph surged when Mel took a seat next to him. She could just as easily have picked one across the room.
“My wife and I are glad to finally meet you.”
Before he had a chance to object to the man’s subtle emphasis on “finally,” an older version of Mel rose gracefully and extended her hand. “Sara.”
Dave jumped to his feet again and bowed as he grasped her outstretched hand. “I can see where your daughter gets her looks.”
She smiled and he had a clear picture of what Mel might look like in twenty years. Ash-blond hair, still-trim figure, just-plump-enough cheeks…that mouth. He liked the image—too much. Thank God her lilting voice cut through the picture his brain started to weave.
“Thank you, Dave.”
His attention snapped back to the present. “You’re welcome.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Mel’s uptight expression and wondered why she didn’t look happier that he was charming her parents. Surely she couldn’t read his mind.
They continued to make small talk—about Dave’s job, Tara’s antics, the weather—until a commotion on the lawn interrupted.
Mel rushed to the window and peered outside. “Daddy, why’s there a camera crew in our yard?”
Dave sprang to his feet to join her. Sure enough, men carrying cameras and a microphone were flattening the well-manicured grass. All three of them focused on a pudgy guy brandishing a megaphone.
Ted cleared his throat. “I meant to tell you sooner, sugar. Peter thought we ought to get footage of the happy homecoming.”
All the color drained from Mel’s face. “Daddy, no!”
“Peter’s the image-maker.” Her father shrugged. “I’m just the candidate.”
Dave didn’t like the sound of that. “Candidate for what?”
The wide smile Mel dredged up was more fake than the toupee perched atop the head of the fat guy on the lawn. “Daddy’s running for mayor of Brannen.”
Mel’s announcement knocked him for a loop, but he tried his damnedest to hide it. “A town no bigger than a stadium needs a mayor?”
“You have something against local politics, son?” With his salt-and-pepper eyebrows lowered that way, Ted suddenly looked a lot less friendly—and a lot more like the man he’d expected to meet today, the one who was pissed at him for avoiding his responsibilities.
“Uh…no.” He preferred friendly Ted, so he tried to backpedal. “Just surprised. That’s all.”
“The mayor is the lifeblood of a town like Brannen.”
The way Mel’s father said it, Dave had no doubt he believed every word. So even though he had no use for politics, local or otherwise, he pretended to be supportive. “Then I wish you luck in the election.”
“Son, you’re going to do more than wish me luck. You’re the campaign’s good luck charm.”
****
&nbs
p; “Good luck charm?” Mel forced down a violent wave of nausea. Her brother obviously hadn’t told Daddy just how bad Dave’s reputation was. Either that, or her own image was so tarnished they assumed any man would add shine.
Did that mean her last four-plus years of model behavior had been wasted effort? All that tongue biting and rumor evading for nothing? Her legs wobbled.
In an instant, Dave was beside her. He slid his arm around her waist to steady her and guided her toward the library door. “If you’ll excuse us, sir, your daughter and I need a minute alone.”
When Daddy inclined his head, Dave rushed her out of the room. Once a closed door separated them from her parents, his jaw clenched. “Where can we get some privacy?”
“With Lu watching Tara today, we’ll have the playroom to ourselves.” She tried to keep herself from shaking too much and led him down the hall.
He followed her inside. After stopping to pull the door shut behind them, he led her across the room to the couch. “Sit down, Mel, before you fall down.”
“We’re alone now. You can knock off the good ol’ boy act.” She knew he’d only been trying to impress her folks.
“It’s no act.” He gestured to the couch again.
Sitting was easier than arguing with him. “I’m fine.”
He sat beside her and put his hand on her knee. “I’ll believe that when you get some color back in your cheeks.”
Dave was serious about caring for her as much as Tara? A wave of tenderness welled up inside her…until he opened his mouth.
“When were you planning to tell me your father was a politician?”
She let her eyes drift shut while she gathered the gumption to explain. Then she met his inquisitive gaze. “It’s not something I bring up in casual conversation.”
He took a deep breath and then let it out. But his gaze, now sharp with unspoken disapproval, probed her until she started squirming.
“Could you please stop staring?”
“Sorry.” He turned away to examine a finger-painting taped to the wall. Tara’s handiwork, of course. “I was just trying to work out how I’m supposed to help your dad’s campaign.”
Diva In The Dugout (All Is Fair In Love And Baseball) Page 8
