Nobody's Fool

by Sarah Hegger

“He also told me to let you sleep. You were tired.” Emma’s eyes narrowed accusingly at Holly. “How would he know you were still sleeping?”

  Holly bit back a sigh. Emma the nun wasn’t going to quietly take the hint and drop it. Holly blew on her coffee and took a cautious sip. “I would say the answer is fairly obvious.”

  The man might not know how to cook, but he could certainly make a cup of coffee.

  “What are you doing, Holly?” Emma shoved a spoonful of the unappetizing mess into her mouth.

  “I’m drinking my coffee.” Could she have one day without the drama? Only one. “I’m trying to get my sister back home safely, and other than that, I have no idea and am playing it as it comes along.”

  “Is it serious?” Emma swung her body around. “How long has it been going on?”

  “No. Maybe. I don’t know, Em. Now can we drop it?”

  Emma examined her critically from over the top of her spoon of gruel. “And what are you wearing? Did you go shopping?”

  “No.” Holly was done with the interrogation. “These were lent to me. My clothes were stolen along with the car.”

  “Those don’t look like natural fibers,” Emma said. “In fact, I’m sure I saw those shorts in a magazine somewhere.”

  “I doubt it.” Holly sipped her coffee and hunted for breakfast. She latched on to a paper bag full of fresh croissants.

  Josh must have been up early.

  “I’m sure I did.” Emma hung on like a terrier with a bone. “That pink is one of the must-have colors this season. Everything is bright and vibrant this summer. Lots of florals and brights.”

  Say what? Emma, in her homespun pumpkin-colored dress that dropped from her shoulders straight to the ground, was talking about fashion trends? Talk about your parallel universe. “Is Portia up?”

  “No.” Emma pushed her bowl away. “And what about Portia? How can you even be thinking of getting involved with that man when he’s involved with Portia already?”

  “He isn’t involved with Portia.” Holly snapped her mug down on the countertop. Time to get this out in the open. “He says he has never been involved with Portia and I believe him.”

  She held up her hand when Emma looked like she was going to start up again. “Yesterday, Portia admitted as much. Any involvement between them is in her own mind.”

  Emma pursed her lips like a maiden aunt. “Still, you know Portia would be devastated to find out you’re carrying on with him when she has feelings for him.”

  Guilt twisted the knife in her gut. “I know that. I didn’t—” How could she explain her behavior?

  Emma glared at her.

  She should never have fallen into bed with Josh last night. She should have stuck to her decision to end whatever it was between them and get back to her real life. “I understand, Emma. Portia won’t find out.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because it won’t happen again.” And even as she said it, the reality pressed down on Holly.

  Josh had been wonderful, a chance to be a different Holly for a while. A taste of something magical and transformative, but it was over now. Inside, way deep inside, the Holly forties pinup of this morning stamped her feet. Why did it have to be over?

  Emma got to her feet and cleared her breakfast things away. “Good.”

  God, Emma was so calm and complacent. And smug. All was right in Emma’s world again. The pinup broke free of the chokehold Holly had on her and the sense of injustice flared to life. “I am entitled to a life, Emma.”

  Emma’s eyes bugged out. “You have a life, Holly. You have a good job at the university, a house you share with Portia and me, and a boyfriend. You seem to have forgotten about Steven.”

  “I haven’t forgotten about Steven.” The color leeched out of Holly’s day. Her snappy outfit, which had seemed hip and sexy minutes before, felt silly on her now.

  “This is not your life, Holly.” Emma waved her hand in an encompassing gesture. “Here in Willow Park, in this house, wearing those clothes, and that … man. This is some temporary thing, and yet you want to risk Portia’s sanity for it?” Emma turned away, as if the subject were closed. “I am going to check on my sister.”

  Emma sailed out of the kitchen.

  A small knot of resentment hardened in Holly’s belly. This life of hers Emma spoke about was suddenly as bland and unappetizing as Emma’s breakfast.

  But Emma was right. Her life wasn’t here. She’d been kidding herself.

  It could be. The Holly of last night stuck her head up carefully.

  No, it couldn’t, because men like Josh Hunter didn’t go for girls like her.

  Except he had and he was and he looked like he wanted to keep doing so.

  The croissant on the counter lost its appeal and, for the first time in years, she didn’t feel hungry. She was feeling sorry for herself and she hated that. It was the way Emma assumed she would carry on as if nothing had changed. They assumed she would because it’s what she always did.

  At what point had she made it her job to make up for the things the twins didn’t get from their parents? And how come this was just occurring to her now? The knot of resentment grew into a bundle because she wanted something in direct conflict with the needs of the twins. She wanted Josh, but Portia was obsessed with him, and that put him out of the picture for Holly.

  “Hey there.”

  Holly’s heartbeat kicked up a notch as Josh appeared in the doorway. Not for her. A wan smile was the best she could dredge up.

  “That’s not the face you were wearing when I left you.” Josh moved right behind her. His hands rested on her hips, his lips warm on her ear.

  Make it go away like you did before.

  Holly desperately wanted to lean back into his heat. She wanted it so fiercely she stood for a moment, every molecule of her being urging her to allow herself to take what he offered. Instead, she stepped away and to the side. He was hot and sweaty and gorgeous, and she couldn’t stand to look at him right then.

  “Holly?” As always, he read her like a book.

  “About last night.” Her voice was strained, wooden.

  His jaw tightened. “You’re going to tell me it was a mistake, right?”

  “It was.” She stubbornly stuck to her course.

  “I don’t agree.” He shrugged. “We have something, Holly. It’s new and I’m not sure where it’s going, but there’s a connection between us, and the more time we spend together, the stronger it gets.”

  His words pierced the part of her that wanted so badly it made her gasp. “But we can’t.”

  “Because of Portia?”

  She nodded. Saying it out loud made her want to cry, and she never cried.

  “Or because of you?” Up went his eyebrow.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Portia is sick, no doubt about that, and this situation has all kinds of trouble all over it, but if you’re going to walk away from us, be sure it’s not because you’re frightened of what would happen if you actually grabbed on to a life of your own.” He stopped in the doorway. “Because from where I’m standing, Holly, you deserve that and a whole lot more.”

  “Argh.” Holly collapsed in a chair. She didn’t want to argue with him. She wanted to fight with life. The life that said it was wrong for her to be with him. The same life that said it was her responsibility to take care of Portia.

  Down the hallway, Josh greeted Emma.

  Her sister gave a frosty response.

  And there you had it. There was no point to this ridiculous uproar. She was going in a day or two. As soon as she had her passport, she was out of there. When they were back home, things would settle back down to the way they always were.

  She wanted to cry.

  Josh stalked into the bathroom and shut the door. He resisted the urge to slam it, repeatedly.

  She pulled him close and then shoved him away.

  He’d been stupid enough to believe last night meant s
omething more, that Holly would give them a chance. She’d slammed the door on that idea.

  He didn’t like the feeling in the pit of his stomach; a jittery sensation that made him ask all sorts of uncomfortable questions.

  He needed to know how she felt because right now he was strung out on a line. Vulnerable.

  He turned on the water and stepped into the shower. Propping his arms against the wall, he let the water drum against his nape.

  Her rejection hurt and he’d struck back.

  What a fucking dick! Only a complete douche could resent her sisters because they stood between him and what he wanted.

  Portia was ill and needed help. Emma was so fragile he was terrified of doing anything that would shatter her.

  Holly. Brave, fierce, and loyal Holly, fighting to hold it all together like a one-man army. And here he was, having a mantrum.

  He’d spent the last hour of his run working on the sort of fantasy that would top off his endorphin high. He wanted to slide his hands up under that oversized T-shirt and find that firm, ripe, gorgeous body. There was something about her baggy, oversized clothes. He was doing his best to get rid of them, make no mistake, but there was still something appealing about knowing he was the only one who got what a wonderland they concealed.

  Damn, it was so much more than sex. Getting to know Holly was an adventure, peeling back the layers of who she was and finding the real woman beneath. She hid more than a kick-ass body beneath her big tees, and he wanted more.

  Ah. Lest he forget: Steven the boyfriend, conspicuous by his absence.

  But he wasn’t here, standing beside Holly while she battled on alone.

  Holly needed someone to stand by her, be with her. Not a man who only gave a crap about his own agenda.

  Which brought him right around to himself and being a dick. He was doing the same thing he’d done all those years ago. The same thing his dad had reamed him out about: taking what he wanted and damn the rest.

  For the first time in his life, he might have to consider the possibility he wouldn’t get the girl. Josh snorted out loud at his own conceit. There were probably all sorts of people waiting for this day. What goes around comes around and all that.

  He snapped the faucets off and stepped out of the shower. The mirror fogged and he wiped it clear. “Josh,” he said to his bleary reflection, “this is Karma; Karma, meet Josh. You owe him a little something.”

  Holly put in her call to Grace.

  “This is Grace.”

  “Hey, it’s me.” Her news wasn’t going to go down well. “I wanted to let you know we found Portia.”

  “Yeah. I got your text.” Grace sounded distracted. “That’s good, Holly. That’s very good.”

  “Gracie? Are you listening to me? I said we found Portia.”

  “And I said that’s great.”

  Holly took a moment to absorb the rudeness. It was completely uncalled for.

  Grace heaved a huge sigh. “I’m sorry, Holly, I’m a bit on edge. Tell me about Portia.”

  “Well, we were right, she’s off the medication and has been for a while.”

  “What the hell?” Grace snorted. “Why can’t she stay on the stuff? If you don’t force it down her throat, I don’t know if she would take it at all.”

  “Actually—” They might as well get this over and move on—“there’s more, and it’s not so good.”

  “Uh-huh.” Grace’s tone braced for impact.

  “She’s pregnant.”

  The silence hummed and snapped down the line.

  “You are going to have to say that again,” Grace said.

  “Portia is pregnant and that’s why she went off the medication.”

  “Motherfu—are you sure?”

  “Yup. Doctor confirmed it.”

  Grace took a breath. “And the father?”

  “Now is where the story gets interesting.” Holly grimaced as she anticipated Grace’s reaction.

  “Oh, I can’t wait to hear this.”

  “You know Josh Hunter? I said he was helping me?”

  “Yes, but—” Grace choked. “You’re kidding me? Josh Hunter and Portia?” Grace made a soft noise of sympathy. “Oh, Holly, I thought you and—”

  “No.” Goddamn. All she needed was Grace storming down the wrong road. “There is no Josh and Portia. There is only Portia saying there’s a Josh and Portia.”

  “Don’t play word games with me, Holly.” The edge was back in Grace’s tone.

  Holly was walking on eggshells around Grace today. “Portia says Josh is the father of the baby.”

  “Is he?”

  “Not unless he has supersperm that can get a woman four months pregnant instantly.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if he did.” Grace chuckled dryly. “Or at least thought he had. The Josh I remember ranked high on the self-esteem front.”

  “He’s not like that anymore.” She’d already jumped to that conclusion and tumbled off again. “He’s different; kinder, more patient, and less full of himself.” No, that was a lie. Josh was still full of himself, but there were so many other facets to him, and she was only beginning to sort them out. “He’s … he’s very Josh.”

  Such a lame finish.

  “Oh?” Grace loaded the syllable to the point it should be wearing an abnormal warning.

  Holly resisted the bait. She didn’t want Grace delving into her feelings, or whatever, for Josh.

  Bloody hell. She didn’t even want to go there herself.

  “I’m pretty sure Emma knew, but she hasn’t said so. And Portia is Portia and won’t tell me who the real dad is.”

  “That’s screwed up,” Grace said.

  “I know.” It made her head want to explode with how fucked up it was.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “What do you mean, me? What am I going to do?” Holly’s throat tightened and resentment swirled like bile in her stomach. “Why is it up to me to do anything?”

  “Get off it, Holly,” Grace just about snarled down the line at her. “You don’t get to play the victim.”

  “Really? And here I thought it was my turn.” And didn’t that just beat all? It was so grossly unfair. She wanted to yell and stamp her feet like a child, but that would get her nowhere with Grace. “I’m going to get Portia more stable, take her home, and help her take care of the baby. I don’t have any choice.”

  “Yes, you do,” Grace said. “You do have choices. I’m not saying the options are fantastic, but there are choices.”

  “That’s easy for you to say.” Why couldn’t Grace get off it? Grace always lectured her because Grace always had the damn answers. Except Grace wasn’t here, was she? Grace was off in Boston, living the beautiful life with her designer husband and her high-powered job.

  “I don’t want to fight with you, Holly,” Grace said. “I know you shoulder virtually all the responsibility for the twins. I’m not insensitive to what that means, but I get frustrated for you. You have your own life to lead and you can’t babysit them forever.”

  “I don’t know what else to do.” Holly deflated rapidly; her shoulders sagged under the weight and she leaned her elbows on the table. “If somebody doesn’t take care of them, I don’t know what will happen to them. I couldn’t live with myself if Portia ended up like her.”

  It was an old argument that went round and round until they were both too bloodied to continue.

  “I know.” Grace sighed. Her voice softened abruptly. “You sound tired.”

  “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  “Stud muffin keeping you up all night?”

  Whoa. Holly’s face heated. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She winced as she ended up sounding like a Victorian maiden aunt.

  “Sure you do.” Grace chuckled. “You are so doing Josh Hunter.”

  “How would you know?” Holly was not sunken enough in deceit to go for an outright lie.

  “I’m right, though.” Grac
e wouldn’t be Grace if she let it go at that. “I would bet my right arm I called this one.”

  Holly writhed inside. “I don’t want to discuss it.”

  Grace roared with laughter.

  Holly’s face would burst into flames any moment. “Besides …” She raised her voice over Grace’s chuckles. “Nothing can come of it.”

  “Why not?” Grace stopped laughing. “And if you say because of Portia, I’m going to reach through this phone and rip your heart out.”

  “Okay, then.” Holly’s heart bottomed out. “I won’t say it, but—”

  “Ah, Holly.” Grace let out a long shaky breath. “Life is too short for this shit.”

  “Gracie?” Everything in Holly went on alert at her sister’s tone. “Are you all right? Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”

  “No.” Grace’s voice flattened into a scary, dead calm. “I don’t want to talk about it, and I am most definitely not all right, but I will be, Holly, I will be.”

  Holly got a nasty feeling in the pit of her stomach. She took a seat at the table. “What’s going on, Grace?”

  “Just some stuff.” Grace was lying through her teeth. “Actually, a lot,” she said. “But I’m sorting it out. We’ll talk again, but not now, okay, Holly? Not now.”

  “Okay,” Holly agreed reluctantly. Something was up with Grace and it wasn’t good. But if she pushed, Grace would push back harder.

  After hanging up, Holly sat there with the phone in her hand. And the hits just kept coming. Now Grace was in trouble.

  Josh walked into the kitchen wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a loose cotton shirt.

  Holly’s entire body stiffened in response. How, in the name of all that was holy, could someone rock shorts and a shirt? He didn’t even have any of that impressive muscle on display.

  He indicated her phone. “More bad news?”

  “I can handle it.” The last thing she needed right now was another lecture from him.

  He gave her a slow smile. “I know that, Holly, I was just asking.”

  He walked up to her and took the phone from her nerveless fingers.

  “Hey.”

  He put it on the table and sank to his haunches in front of her. “I’m sorry, Holly.”

  “What?” She hadn’t seen that one coming and it hit her like a truck. How was she supposed to stay angry with him?