by Shirley Jump
That devilish look flashed in her eyes again. “You think you’re up to the challenge?”
“I’ll take whatever challenge you throw at me, Vivian.” And when he finally slipped inside Vivian’s body, he made sure to appreciate her very, very much. She was fiery and sweet, passionate and tender.
And somewhere along the way between the gazebo and the bedroom, Nick Jackson fell head over heels in love.
* * *
The sun had just started to crest when Vivian opened her eyes. Nick’s chest rose and fell in steady, even breaths. She had her head on the valley beneath his shoulder, her hand on his abdomen and one leg wrapped around his body.
She moved back, out from under his arm, as carefully and quietly as she could. What had she been thinking? Making love with him—and yes, holy hell, that had been amazing, both the first and the second time—and then sleeping beside him? She never spent the night with men. Never let them stay at her place. That kind of thing led to too many misconceptions about what she could offer them.
It had been sex, plain and simple. Just sex.
Right?
Even in sleep, Nick had a hint of a smile on his face. She sat back on her knees and watched him for a moment. He was a handsome man, with a chiseled jaw and one lock of hair that often fell across his brows. He clearly worked out—given the muscular planes of his chest and abs. But it was the heart of the man that she was most attracted to. The man she had slept beside, and the man she knew she should leave.
When she thought of last night, of his tenderness and consideration, her resolve softened. Nick had done more than just make her orgasm—he had shown her there were men who cared enough to put her needs first. All her life, she had avoided long-term relationships—and not once had she ever regretted it or even had a second thought. Maybe she’d chosen poorly, but most of the men she’d dated had been selfish and emotionally closed off. Not Nick. He wore his emotions on his chef’s apron, and was as open as a prairie.
That was dangerous. Because it was the kind of thing she could fall for.
Or maybe already had. Something about him had her seriously considering staying in Stone Gap. Staying meant going all in with what he wanted—a family, a forever. Despite her speech about her mother that night, a part of Vivian had always been afraid that she would turn out to be just as bad of a mother. Emotionally unavailable to her husband, her children, and basically addicted to work, instead of her family. Work was her comfort zone, the one place where she felt sure and confident.
She started to slip off the bed when Nick stirred. “Hey, don’t get up yet. Ellie’s still sleeping.” He patted the mattress beside him. “Come back to bed with me.”
The thick white comforter and soft sheets beckoned her. She could easily slide back into that bed with Nick and pretend, just a little longer, that this was her life. Her man. Her family.
Outside the window, the Saturday-morning sun continued ascending. Yesterday she’d called her contractor and made sure the apartment was near enough to done to be habitable. Which meant tomorrow, she would go home to Durham with Ellie, then hire someone to take care of the baby for the hours after the day care closed. And all of this, whatever this was, with Nick would be over. That was for the best. Before she hurt him, or disappointed him too.
“You sleep in. I have some work to do,” she said, then hurried out of the room before she changed her mind.
She took a quick shower, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, then settled in at the dining room table with her laptop and a stack of files and briefs to read. She could hear Ellie beginning to stir, and the patter of Nick’s feet as he headed into the nursery.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he said to Ellie, the words happy and sweet, and just the kind of words every little girl should hear when she woke up. “You hungry?”
The words on the page in front of Vivian swam. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, but when she opened her eyes again, everything was a teary blur. Did she really have to leave this weekend? Couldn’t she wrangle a few more days in Stone Gap?
She got to her feet and was halfway down the hall to go talk to him when the doorbell rang. At six thirty in the morning? Who on earth would be coming by that early? Vivian pulled open the door to find Sammie standing on the doorstep, wearing the same jeans and T-shirt she’d been wearing the day she left, with a backpack slung over one shoulder and a brand-new stuffed white bear under her other arm.
“Hi, Viv! I’m back!” Sammie grinned. Her sister looked healthy and happy, better than she’d looked in years. Maybe the time on her own had been a good thing after all. “The people at the inn told me where you were staying. For a second, I thought you’d left town. Where’s my little girl? I can’t wait to hold her again.”
Vivian glanced up the staircase and saw Nick, holding Ellie, with her favorite pink bunny blanket clutched between them. An unreadable expression filled his face. In that instant, Vivian realized that once again, her world had imploded. But this time, the implosion would be affecting Nick and Ellie, too.
“She just got up,” Nick said.
Sammie’s gaze shot to Nick. As soon as she spied the baby, Sammie barreled up the stairs, her arms out and reaching for her daughter. “Ellie! Oh my God, I’ve missed you so much!”
Nick glanced at Vivian. She gave him a small nod of assent, and he handed Ellie over to her mother. Sammie drew the baby tight to her chest, covering her with kisses, talking nonstop. The bear squished between them. Ellie stared at Sammie, but didn’t cry. “You got so big! I swear, you’ve gained five pounds. Oh, Momma has been so sad without her Ellie girl.”
“I was just about to change her,” Nick said to Sammie. He still had his hands halfway between them, ready to take the baby back at any second. “Do you want me to—”
“I can do it. Then I can spend time with my little Ellie Boo.” Sammie nuzzled Ellie’s stomach which made Ellie let out a little giggle, then turned into the nursery. She kept on talking to Ellie as she changed her.
Nick came down the stairs, his steps heavy and slow. Vivian waited in the foyer, her heart a riot of mixed emotions. Joy, loss, regret, sadness. “She’s back,” she said to Nick. “For Ellie.”
Gratitude for Sammie’s safe return was quickly chased by frustration with the entire chain of events. Sammie had just walked out, assuming Vivian would take care of everything for her, like she always did. If Vivian hadn’t been here, what would have happened to Ellie? And now, Sammie expected to waltz back into their lives as if nothing happened? How did Vivian know for sure that Sammie wouldn’t do this again? There wasn’t going to be a Nick standing in the kitchen the next time.
“I’m sure that’s best,” Nick said, but his words were edged with concern. “Ellie should be with her mother. Not her aunt and a...stranger, or whatever I am...or was.” He shook his head and let out a little cough. For a second, he stared at the hardwood floor, looking lost and distracted. “Since you don’t need me here, I, uh, should probably get to the inn. It’s almost time for breakfast. Will you be by today?”
“Actually...” Now was as good a time as any to tell him her plans. If there was one thing Vivian had learned in law, it was that dealing with the facts was a lot easier once they were all on the table. She had no reason to delay her departure, now that Sammie had returned. And maybe it would be easier if she just told Nick now, while her heart was already hurting. “I’m going to go back to Durham today.”
He wheeled back to her. “What? Now?”
“I was going to go tomorrow but now that Sammie’s here, I don’t have any reason to stay.” Nick winced, and Vivian wished she could take the words back. “I meant, I have a job—”
“I know what you meant.” He scowled. “By all means, run back to Durham.”
“I’m not running. I have a court case and work, and that renovation to oversee—”
“And what abou
t us?” Even though Sammie was still in the nursery with Ellie, Nick lowered his voice.
Vivian raised her chin. “What about it? We had a great time, and made some memories. And got a Christmas tree. I call that a successful evening.”
He scoffed. “A successful evening? Is that code for—” he lowered his voice even more “‘—thanks for the sex, Nick, I’ll send you a postcard once in a while’?”
The harsh words made her recoil. Last night had been wonderful, yes, so why couldn’t Nick understand that one night, one date, would have to be enough? That even if she wanted to try to take this further, she also knew that they didn’t have what it took to make this anything more? Or rather, that she didn’t? The last thing she wanted to do was make him think she could be that family woman he kept seeing her as. “That wasn’t what that was, and you know it.”
“Oh yeah? Then what was it? For you? Because it was a lot more than one night for me,” he said, as if he’d just read her mind. Nick took a step closer to her, placing one hand on her waist. She wanted to lean into the warmth of his hand, into him, into this. “I want you, Vivian. Not for one night. Forever.”
Forever. The word alternately terrified and thrilled her. Nick wanted something permanent. Pretty ironic that the very thing she’d always craved was right before her, and she was throwing it aside. But she knew that life wasn’t for her. And trying to make it work would only hurt them both even more in the long run.
“I’m not a forever kind of girl, Nick,” she said. “I’ll just let you down in the end. You should know that by now.”
“Honey, you have forever written all over you. The problem is, you’re too damned scared to take it when it’s right in front of you. You’re like your mother, standing at the edge of the playground, afraid to go in and visit with your daughters. Take the leap, Vivian.”
Damn it. Why did he keep calling her honey? It was all she could do not to kiss him right there. An insane thought because she was in the middle of telling him they were done. “It’s not that. I can’t just up and leave my job. You make it sound like I can settle down here and be your sous chef or something.”
“I never said that. You want to live in Durham? Fine, we’ll live in Durham. You want to live here? We’ll live here. They need chefs pretty much everywhere in the world, so I’m good with wherever you need to be. What’s more important to me, Vivian, than where I work, is who I come home to. And that I have a home. Not just a room in the back of a B and B.”
Or an apartment in Durham as sterile as a hospital room. Ida Mae’s house, with all its memories and mementos, felt more like home than any place Vivian had ever lived. The tree in the corner, its lights muted for now, was hers. Well, hers and Nick’s. They’d bought it, set it in the stand, hung it with lights. Turned this place into a home in just a few days.
He wanted to build a home with her. Come home to her. Make something that would last, beyond this week and this holiday season. She should have been elated, should have leaped into his arms and said yes, yes, yes. Instead, fear tightened her chest and shortened her breath, and she backed away from him.
“I can’t do that, Nick. I’m sorry.” She tore her gaze away from his because if she looked at the hurt in his eyes one more time, she’d lose her resolve. “I’m just going to see if Sammie needs anything, and then I’ll start packing. Say goodbye to Della and Mavis for me, will you?”
She headed upstairs. Even as she loaded her clothes into her suitcase and her files into her briefcase, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was leaving something very important behind.
Chapter Twelve
After the breakfast shift, Nick mixed up a quick chicken salad for the guests for lunch, adding a bowl of washed fruit and a hearty potato salad he’d made the day before. Once the food was laid out and the beef stew he’d made for dinner was simmering, Nick stood in the kitchen, with nothing to do, and knew he’d put the decision off long enough.
Vivian was leaving. Sammie had Ellie. The little charade of a life they’d been living had come to an end. And that meant Nick had no excuse to keep him from the conversation he’d been dreading for months.
“Mavis, I’ll be back this afternoon.” He hung his apron on the hook by the pantry, grabbed his keys from the shelf by the door, then headed out to his truck. When he got inside, he noticed a forgotten pacifier from Ellie on the backseat.
Damn.
Nick turned it over in his hand. His chest ached, and damned if he wasn’t half close to tears for a kid that wasn’t even his. Maybe it wasn’t the baby so much as the potential she had awakened in him. A dream of a forever with Vivian and him. A child of their own someday. More nights on the couch and dances in the gazebo.
Bah humbug. Nick tossed the pacifier into the glove box, put the truck in gear, then headed back to Ida Mae’s. His grandmother’s house echoed with emptiness. Sammie had taken Ellie with her. Where they’d gone, Nick had no idea. Rather than sticking around to ask, he had ducked out of there as soon as Vivian said she was leaving.
Vivian’s car was gone, and so was her suitcase. The dining room table held no files, the bathroom held no makeup. All that was left was a crib and diaper bag in a nursery that would never be used again.
Nick picked up the box he’d pulled out of the attic last week and set it on the kitchen table. Then he picked up his cell phone and dialed his father’s number. It took four rings before Richard answered. Had he been standing there, debating whether to pick up?
“Nicholas. What did you need?”
Nick sighed. “I know you’re in Stone Gap today. Thought you might want to come by and get the box Grandma left for you.”
“You can drop it off at my office. I’m about to head back there.”
Nick bit back his first, instinctive response. And his second. He thought of Vivian’s words, about how his father’s distance was more about fear than disappointment. He found that hard to equate with the cold man who had raised him.
Had his father held Nick when he was an infant and marveled at his fingers and toes? Laughed when his tiny hand gripped one finger? Paced the halls when Nick’s cries wouldn’t stop? Had he ever, for a second, loved his sons the way Nick had begun to love Ellie?
“It’s Christmas, Dad. Can we just pretend we’re a family for a couple hours? Swing by Grandma’s and I’ll give you the box in person, like she wanted.” There was more to his grandmother’s request, but Nick kept it simple for now. His father would be less likely to come if he knew it would be more complicated than just accepting the box.
Like his father had said, Grandma wouldn’t know if Nick didn’t abide by every part of her letter, which had asked him to sit with his father and go through the contents. Except, Nick would know. And he owed the woman who had been more of a parent than anyone in his life this one last request.
His father sighed. “I have a meeting—”
“Screw the meeting. You have a son who wants to see you, and I think that takes precedence, don’t you?”
A long pause. A sigh. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“See you then.” But the phone call had already ended and Nick was talking to the air.
His father pulled into the driveway fifteen minutes later. He locked the Mercedes with a double beep, then climbed the stairs. Nick pulled open the door before Richard knocked. “I have to say, I’m surprised you came.”
Richard scowled. “It was out of my way.”
Good to see his father was his regular warm and cuddly self. “Come on in.”
His father entered the house and paused in the foyer. His gaze went to the Christmas tree, the decorations. For a moment, his features were unreadable, then he cleared his throat and strode into the kitchen. Nick had left Ida Mae’s letter on the table beside the box. His father began to reach for the box.
“I think you need to read the letter first,” Nick said.
“Grandma was good at that. She saw the best in everyone she met.”
“I’ve always been more like my father. He was a loner. Hardly ever showed any emotion unless he was with my mother. He was a stoic man, but a marshmallow with her.” Richard cleared his throat. “I see you, uh, decorated the house.”
“Yeah. I wanted one more holiday here.” Nick left out the rest, because it was far too painful to tell anyone that the holiday he’d dreamed of had walked out the door a few hours ago.
“It looks like it did when I was a kid. That’s nice, Nicholas.” His father fiddled with the letter. “Your grandmother said she wants us to go through the box together.”
“Yeah. I have no idea why.”
“I think I do.” Richard pulled open the lid, then took out the first few things and set them on the table, talking as he did. “She wanted me to remember what I used to be like. When I was a kid, I was more like you than Grady or Carson.”
Nick scoffed. “I find that hard to believe.”
“This glove,” his father said, “was pretty much welded onto my hand most of my childhood. I played on every Little League team I could find. I thought someday I’d end up in the major leagues. Me and Matty.”
Nick had forgotten that his father had grown up with Matty Gibson, the owner of the grocery store downtown. “He did go on to the major leagues, didn’t he?”
His father nodded. “He got signed by the Braves but barely started the season. Tore his rotator cuff, he ended up coming back here, taking over his father’s market, and never living his dream again.” His father reached in the box and pulled out the autograph book. “My dad would take me to ball games sometimes. I’d wait outside the stadium afterward and get the players to sign my book. I told them all I’d grow up to be like them someday.”
