A Family for Good : A sweet, small town, second chance romance (Tall Dark and Driven Book 6)

by Barbara Deleo

  Liv looked first at Markus, then Ana-Maria, and cleared her throat. Her daydream had shattered, bringing her back to reality with a thud. “I can call her back later.”

  “No,” Ana-Maria said. “You take the call and I’ll have a chat with Markus about a few things. Then when we’re finished, I can talk to you alone.”

  Perhaps it was better if she left now, to save any more revelations.

  “I’ll be on the deck if you need me.” She took her phone from Petro and made her way outside.

  She sank back into the outdoor couch so she could see Markus and Ana-Maria inside, then she took a deep breath and tapped the redial button. She put the phone to her ear. “Pam?”

  Her foster mother spoke in an excited rush. “Livvy, it’s so good to hear you. We haven’t spoken since you got to the house. How are the girls? I bet they’re growing fast. How’s everything going? Are you managing in that awful situation?”

  This wonderful woman—who’d opened her heart to Liv, and before her many other foster children—could always sense the truth, so there was no point telling her anything else. However, she still didn’t know Markus wasn’t the girls’ father, so Liv would try to avoid that topic—as Markus had asked her to—until it was all official. “It’s not awful, Pam, it truly isn’t.” Liv let her gaze drift inside.

  Markus’s hands moved through the air as he spoke to Ana-Maria about the girls. Anyone could see how much he loved them. “Markus has been wonderful with the girls, and he’s accepted me being here much better than I could’ve imagined. It’s very hard on him, you know,” she said in a soft voice, swallowing over the lump in her throat.

  Pam wasn’t one to judge others, and her response was just as diplomatic as Liv would’ve expected. “It’s a very difficult adjustment for you, too, sweetie.”

  “But he’s put his whole life on hold for them. He loves them as much as I do.”

  “There can never be too many people to love a child, Liv, so if he does that’s a wonderful gift.”

  Liv couldn’t speak and Pam spoke again, her voice carrying a forced breeziness. “I’ll begin the renovations as soon as you get the go-ahead from the court, dear. I’ll be completely ready when you bring the girls back to Brentwood Bay, so you have nothing to worry about. Everything will work out just fine.”

  “Pam . . .” She couldn’t drop the bombshell just yet, but she needed to sow the seed that she might not be coming back with the babies. “You know there’s a chance that Markus will keep the girls here.” She bit down on her lip.

  “Of course, dear. I know that, but I’m staying positive, and I hope you are too.”

  “Yes.”

  Ana-Maria’s laugh from inside reminded Liv that she’d be interviewed on her own soon, and the thought of being able to talk about Markus and the girls made her heart lighter.

  Her foster mother’s voice broke into her thoughts. “We just need to think of what Polly would’ve wanted, Liv. That’s all that matters.”

  “Yes, you’re right.” Liv continued to watch Markus and her heart began to thud. She couldn’t deny it anymore—the fantasies that were born whenever he looked at her a certain way or used a certain tone, or when he’d kissed her so passionately in his office yesterday. Or when he’d told her he’d wait for her. She had to stop herself getting close to him before everything unraveled. Now that she’d decided to marry him, more than ever she needed to convince him they could never be together.

  The stakes—the stability and happiness of two beautiful little girls—were much too high.

  “Custard pie?”

  “Pardon?”

  Petro handed Ana-Maria an enormous plate of cakes and slices. Markus had just left them so she could interview his housekeeper. “I also have some tiropites in the oven.” He smiled at her, the tan of his face contrasting with his salt and pepper hair. “Cheese pies.”

  He was exactly the opposite of what she’d expected from their brief chat on the phone. She’d imagined some white-haired grandfather in his seventies with flour under his fingernails, but the man sitting in front of her looked like someone out of a forties movie. He wore a jacket and tie, his hair was cut short, and he had midnight eyes that twinkled. He could be early fifties—no, the lines on his face were character filled, not from aging—maybe late forties?

  “Are you foreign?” he asked, and she suppressed a smile at the well-known Cypriot skill of getting straight to the point.

  “I’m from Canada.” She picked up the tiny cup of coffee and delicate serviette he’d put in front of her. He rubbed his hands across his thighs and shot her a nervous smile.

  She shifted in her seat. “I was born here but left when I was eighteen. I came back two years ago when my mother was ill and just stayed. I was the only one of my siblings who wasn’t married and—” She took a quick sip of coffee and the hot liquid burned her lip. The only unmarried sibling! What was she thinking! She was supposed to be interviewing him about Markus and Liv and the babies, not blabbering about herself.

  Petro cleared his throat as a tiny grin danced on his lips, and he offered her a second plate of sweets. “You might like the chocolate things there,” he said, pointing. “Apparently they’re well known in America. I made them for Liv.”

  She took the delicious looking square.

  “How long have you been Markus’s housekeeper?”

  “Two years. It began as a favor while he re-established himself back in Cyprus, and like you, somehow I’ve never left.”

  “Mmmm, these brownies are gorgeous.” Crumbs tumbled down her chin.

  “I’d worked for Markus’s grandfather for many years, and while I didn’t know Markus well before he moved here, he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

  “I’d pay you to make food like this for me. My mother says her greatest failing was having a daughter who cooked like a prison warden.”

  Petro let out a hearty chuckle. “All you need is someone to teach you. Someone who’ll take the time to show you the beauty of food and how to prepare it simply.”

  “I’d love to have someone teach me.”

  The tan on his face deepened. “The tiropites!” he said, and then rushed into the kitchen.

  Murmurings from the baby monitor indicated the twins were stirring, and first Liv and then Markus could be heard talking to them. Ana-Maria leaned over and switched the machine off.

  “So, tell me,” she said, moving to a stool by the kitchen counter. “How do you think Markus and Liv are coping with looking after the twins. It’s a big job for people who’ve never had children.”

  Petro took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, and she wondered if he’d got dressed up for her benefit. He looked more relaxed as he opened the oven door to remove the pastries.

  “I won’t pretend it hasn’t been stressful,” he said. “When it was just me and Markus it was busy enough, but since the girls became more wakeful, it’s been very good to have three of us taking care of them.”

  She leaned her arms on the counter. “Does that mean you think it would be too difficult for Markus to look after the babies if he only had you to help out?”

  He placed the hot tray on the counter and the smell of savory cheese and herbs surrounded them.

  “I think it’s always difficult to look after babies, but if you love them enough, then you just cope no matter how many of you there are. That’s what I did when I brought up my own children after my wife died young. They weren’t babies, but they were still quite small.”

  “That must have been very difficult.” His face softened and her chest pulled tight. “How old are your children now?”

  “All in their twenties and happy enough in their lives, which is all a father can ask. I missed their baby days though, so it’s been a privilege to help with Phoebe and Zoë.”

  His hands moved quickly as he glazed the tiny triangular pies and dusted sesame seeds over the top. Privileged. Such a lovely word for him to have used.

  Ana-Maria sat strai
ghter on the stool. “So, in your opinion, how well are Liv and Markus working together in their care of the babies?”

  He shrugged. “It would be fine if they didn’t make each other crazy.”

  “They fight?” she said, making a mental note.

  “No.” He pulled a plate from a cupboard and started piling it with the pies. “They love each other.”

  “They what?”

  Petro stopped what he was doing, and his mouth quirked in a warm smile. “Haven’t you noticed the way his eyes follow her when she moves?”

  “Not really.”

  “Or the way she touches her lips when she’s speaking to him?”

  Ana-Maria eased her collar away from her neck. She’d never known a man to be so observant of people’s actions and emotions. “No, I haven’t.”

  “Cheese pie?”

  Although she was stuffed from the brownie, she couldn’t help but reach for one of the savories.

  “A man can’t think straight when he’s in love with a woman. Can’t focus on his work, his house. Anything. When a man’s crazy in love with a woman, he’s about as helpless as a baby himself.”

  Was he being serious? And then she saw the crescent of dimple that bracketed his mouth.

  “And women don’t do that?” She should keep this conversation professional, but there was something in his teasing tone that she wanted to hang onto.

  “Women are good at distractions.” He put a plate in front of her, put three more pies on it and leaned his elbow on the counter. “They get things done, become super-efficient beings, whereas men can only focus on one thing at a time.” His gaze held hers, and for the first time in ages, Ana-Maria’s heart swooped.

  “You sound as though you’ve had a lot of experience.”

  “Not enough,” he said, and a flutter danced in her throat before she cleared it away.

  “So, tell me more about how you think Liv and Markus are going to work things out.”

  “I’ll help you clean up.” Liv smiled at Petro as he scrubbed the countertop, a towel flung over his shoulder.

  He’d produced cakes and pies and tiny sweets on spoons for Ana-Maria, and as the lazy warmth of the afternoon filtered through the house, Liv breathed a sigh of relief that everything had gone so well.

  “Thank you for what you did today,” she said as she picked up a tray and began to wipe it. “I can’t believe all this food you made for Ana-Maria. I thought you were going to ask her to stay for dinner you kept talking to her for so long.”

  A tinge of red crept across his cheeks and he turned away from her. “You’re welcome,” he said gruffly. “She was interested in the girls, that was all.”

  Liv suppressed a grin. “I don’t think Phoebe and Zoë were the only thing she was interested in.”

  He made a blustering sound, and she decided not to keep teasing him. “Thank you, Petro.”

  He turned around. “What for?”

  “You’ve been so wonderful with the girls, and I know you didn’t find it easy having me here in the beginning.”

  “I thought you were a very strange, nanny,” he said, laughter in his voice. “I’d never seen someone struggle to put a diaper on the way you did.”

  Liv shot him a grin. “I was pretty hopeless that first night, wasn’t I?”

  “You wanted to do everything on your own, and it’s not possible with two babies,” he said. “You know how to share things with other people now.”

  Liv wondered if he meant more than just the care of the babies, but she brushed the thought aside. “I think we managed to convince Ana-Maria today that the girls are being well cared for.”

  He looked at her from under his bushy brows, charcoal eyes twinkling. “We made a good impression, I think. She will see that you and Markus will make the best parents for Phoebe and Zoë.”

  Liv’s heart began to race, and the tray clanged against the marble countertop in her unsteady hands. “What do you mean?”

  Petro knew nothing of their marriage plans, only that Markus was applying for custody and Liv was helping him out.

  He carried on cleaning but let out a low chuckle. “You think I don’t see what’s under my very nose.”

  Heat rose rapidly on her cheeks. She turned away and then pretended to search for a place to store the tray. “Markus and I are working together to make sure Phoebe and Zoë are happy,” she said swiftly.

  “This house hasn’t known such love in a long time,” he said matter-of-factly. “In the time I’ve been coming here since Markus moved in, it’s been cold and empty, but not anymore. Anyone with eyes in his head can feel the love swimming in this house.”

  “We certainly all love the girls.” She put the lid on a cake tin and moved toward the pantry. He knew more than he was letting on, and it made her squirm.

  “I’m not speaking about the girls,” Petro said in his rich accent.

  He stopped speaking, so Liv turned around to face him. Words wouldn’t come as his gaze hooked hers. “It is very important to me that Markus isn’t hurt, Liv. I’ve watched him pick himself back up in the last two years, and I don’t want him to go through all that again. He’s come too far.”

  His tone was soft and fatherly, but Liv could hear the warning in his voice. “When he returned from living in France, he was a broken man. It took us a long time to convince him to forget you and move on with his life, and it’s been a slow process. He never mentioned your name, so I didn’t make the connection when you first came here. He’s used this house as a refuge to heal in, as a place to find his old self. Now that you are back in his life, I fear that he might lose himself again.”

  “I don’t want anyone to be hurt, Petro.”

  He reached out and touched her arm, and his gaze was soft but holding her still. “I’m sure that wouldn’t be your intention, my dear, but anyone can see that Markus cares deeply for you. He’s never put away the love he had for you, and I see it growing every day. I’m not sure you feel the same way, and I don’t want him to go through losing you again or those precious girls.”

  Hot tentacles wrapped around her chest and she struggled to take a breath. She’d grown to care for Petro, and she knew his appeal to her was based on his respect and love for Markus, rather than a desire to upset her. As he held her gaze, she couldn’t help feeling he knew the secrets locked down in her heart, and it made her sick to her stomach.

  “Things are difficult, Petro,” she said on a breath.

  “Love is always difficult, Liv. The trick is to never forget that and never take it for granted that things will be easy.”

  “I wouldn’t, I don’t . . .” The darkest worries that had been buried inside her were now exposed in Petro’s words. Agreeing to marry Markus had never been a simple solution, but now she wondered what she’d been thinking. It was cruel to give him hope and make him relive their past all the time. She couldn’t hurt him all over again. Couldn’t let herself be hurt. She had to pull back and find some sort of distance before they crossed the line.

  Petro turned away from her and began to speak about what he’d prepare for dinner, but she only heard half his words as her mind began to race.

  Liv watched Markus pour some of the lavender water she’d made that afternoon into the baby bath and swirl it around with his fingers. The real oil wouldn’t be ready for some time, but this might work just as well. They’d been up most of last night again, trying to settle Phoebe and Zoë.

  She’d washed the sheets from the girls’ cribs in the lavender water today, and their whole room smelled like a field full of wildflowers.

  “Stop wriggling, you.” She smiled down at Zoë in her arms. The tiny girl’s head turned and her whole face broke out in a wide-mouthed smile.

  And Liv’s heart burst.

  “Oh, Markus,” she said, her voice wobbling with wonder. “Come quick! Zoë smiled!”

  “Come on, sweetie,” she said to Zoë. “Do it again.”

  “Hey, Zoë,” he said from behind Liv. The heat of
his closeness began seeping its way through her rigid body.

  He’d been cool with her since their time in the office. They’d made it through each part of the girls’ routine without referring to their discussion. It was no wonder he was a little distant—given the way Liv had dampened down his attempt to get closer—but she needed to make it clear that no amount of waiting for her would weaken her resolve that they couldn’t be together.

  He spoke gently and lovingly to Zoë. “Give me a smile, come on, honey.”

  And Zoë turned to where he stood, and her face broke into another heart-melting smile.

  Liv couldn’t help herself, she had to see his reaction, and when she looked into his face, his response was powerful enough, potent enough, for her to swallow back tears of pride and wonder. It was the sort of expression he used to have when he looked at her—overwhelming, all encompassing. The way his eyes creased at the corners and lit up when he looked at the gorgeous little baby in front of him made Liv want to make this feeling happen over and over again. She wanted him to experience that feeling every day of his life.

  “Would you look at that beautiful girl,” he said softly, as he moved and brushed Liv’s shoulder. “You know, I think she recognizes my voice now.”

  A lump set solid in her throat, and Liv could say nothing, could squeeze no sound past it. While she stroked Zoë’s arm and her heart swelled with love for this tiny being, she realized she’d fallen head over heels for this little girl and her sister and this snug little unit the four of them had created.

  “Should I take her to the bath?” Markus tickled Zoë’s belly.

  “No, I’ll do it,” she said, then searched for a reason for them to be in the room together. “Could you get Phoebe ready?”

  It was quiet for a few moments, as Markus whispered to Phoebe while she kicked in her crib, and Liv set about washing Phoebe’s sister.

  “How did your time with Ana-Maria end up?” Markus asked, as Liv shampooed Zoë’s dark hair with care, remembering how nervous she’d been the first time she’d held this tiny human in her arms. It now felt so natural.