A Father for Her Baby

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A Father for Her Baby Page 7

by Sue MacKay


  You should never have come back. Should’ve dealt with selling the house from afar.

  ‘Like how? I couldn’t do that to Dad. Or me.’ Now he’d spoken aloud. Idiot.

  A hand touched his arm, fingers pressed firmly. ‘You haven’t been back since, have you?’

  He turned, and instantly regretted it as Sasha’s hand fell away. ‘Not once.’ And up until you walked in here I was handling it.

  Her head dipped in acknowledgement. ‘Too hard.’ Then she moved away, taking her warmth, her scent, across the room. ‘Remember the good things, okay?’

  ‘Sure,’ he croaked. But that meant remembering the summer of Sasha Wilson. The summer of promise that had turned to dust. Because he’d done the right thing and stood up for his mother and sisters. Elected to support them and walk away from those heady plans of university with Sash.

  ‘Maybe I should go.’ She sounded like she was warring with that idea. Sadness from her eyes ripped him.

  What was bothering her so deeply? Not Dad’s death, surely? Most likely the consequences. He raised a smile for her because he suddenly did not want to watch her walk out his door. Not yet. ‘I’m not eating all this on my own.’ He didn’t want the quiet of a house empty except for himself and those memories he couldn’t face. ‘Besides, I haven’t told you my plans for tidying up the house over the next month.’

  ‘Guess I’m staying.’ Her hand did that maternal thing on her baby belly, rubbing tenderly, her eyes again alight with love and amazement.

  His stomach curled in on itself as raw envy crawled up his throat. He wanted that baby to be his. So badly. It was a hunger he hadn’t known he had. Until he’d felt that bump when he’d hauled Sasha into his arms for a friendly hug last night. That’s when this crazy, mixed-up idea had begun, taking a firmer hold over the day. He wanted to be a dad to Sasha’s child. Except the kid already had one. Somewhere.

  Her scent warned him moments before her elbow nudged him out of the way. ‘The bacon’s beyond crisp.’ She lifted the pan, set it on a board to take the heat. ‘What’s next?’ Her eyebrows rose and her mouth lifted on one side.

  ‘Add garlic while I grate Parmesan.’

  ‘Now we’re cooking.’ She gave him a wink.

  ‘Thanks.’ She’d brought him out of his funk with a jab from her elbow and a wink. No one did that for him these days.

  The savoury smell of crushed garlic cooking tickled his senses as he broke eggs into a bowl. Adding the cream, he whisked the mixture. And relaxed into the simple pleasure of preparing a meal to share with a—friend.

  ‘This is so good,’ Sasha murmured around a mouthful a short while later. ‘Where did you learn to cook Italian?’

  ‘As compared to charcoaled sausages on the barbie?’ Grady scooped up the last mouthful of sauce from his bowl. ‘When I was at med school I started watching cooking shows on TV whenever I needed a break from studying. Something that required no thought from me but was entertaining. After a few weeks I found I’d picked up some clues and began incorporating them in the basic meals I prepared for myself and my flatmates.’

  ‘So you’ve become a foodie?’ She grinned as surprise lightened the green in her eyes to emerald.

  ‘A very amateurish one.’ He tried not to stare at her. Hard to do when she looked so radiant after a day of appearing drawn and exhausted. Had he made her feel better? If he’d turned her day around with a simple meal then he was happy.

  She told him, ‘I’ve been to Italy twice for the skiing. Tina—she’s my friend who got married at the weekend—and I worked in Dubai for two years. We’re both ski nuts and Italy in winter was a dream come true, especially in the lake district.’

  ‘Also closer to Dubai than New Zealand.’

  ‘Definitely. Those long-haul flights are hideous. I don’t know how Dad does it all the time.’

  ‘He’s doing the job he loves.’ Grady pushed back his chair. ‘Want a coffee?’

  ‘Tea? Coffee at this end of the day tends to wind Flipper up and keep me awake.’

  ‘No tea, sorry.’ But it was now at the top of tomorrow’s shopping list. ‘The next best thing I’ve got is juice.’

  She shook her head, swirling her hair around her face. ‘Hot water’s fine.’ And when he winced, she added, ‘Truly. I often drink that at night.’

  Her wry smile crunched his heart. ‘Who’d have thought? You drinking water at night and me cooking pasta. Have we grown up, or what?’

  Sasha stretched her legs out under the table and arched her back, rubbing her lower back with her fingers. Baby protruded further than he’d seen so far. ‘Did I mention I’ve quit skiing for now?’ She grinned cheekily and sat up straight again. ‘Can you imagine me tearing down the slopes, with Flipper leading the way? I’d end up face first in the snow. So not a good look.’

  He should’ve laughed at the image but he couldn’t. Sasha wouldn’t have fallen on her face, baby or no baby under her ski suit. She’d always been nimble and surefooted, whether she was dancing, water-skiing, or climbing hills.

  What had led him back to this place at the same time as Sasha had come home? She must’ve been home for visits often over the intervening years. But it sounded as though she’d returned for good this time. Had he somehow known he’d find her here? Was there a thread of emotion connecting them? ‘How long have you been back in the bay?’

  Her smile faded, and she straightened up. ‘Nearly three months.’

  Grady plugged the kettle in. Got out a mug, spooned in instant coffee and sugar. Filled another mug with boiling water. And once again his tongue got the better of him. ‘That when you found out you were pregnant?’

  ‘No. That’s when I found out Mum had MS.’

  *

  Sasha winced as that teaspoon Grady had been gripping clanged in the bottom of the sink. He whipped around to look directly at her, impaling her with his unwavering look. For the second time in twenty-four hours shock stunned him; his face still and his eyes wide. ‘Muscular sclerosis? Bloody hell.’

  Sasha could understand his shock. It gripped her, too. She’d had no intention of telling him anything about Mum’s illness. She hadn’t got used to the idea yet. ‘Mum and Dad need me here now.’ Her breathing was shaky. ‘Like your mum and sisters needed you.’

  They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Then he moved, lifted her from the chair as though she weighed nothing, tucked her against his chest and dropped his chin on top of her head.

  She wanted this. Had needed it since the day greaseball had told her where to go with their baby. That she’d managed to cope with. But the night Dad had phoned to tell her about Mum she’d believed she must’ve been a very, very bad person for so much to go wrong. Had she been too selfish in her pursuit of adventure? But her parents had always encouraged her and Jackson to follow their dreams. Should she have stayed in Takaka when she finished school and worked on the orchard? Done some of the hard, heavy work? Would that have saved Mum from getting this horrible disease?

  Knowing her self-blame was ridiculous didn’t mean she could drop it and feel free of everything. This year seemed to be about life catching up, payback for all the fun and antics she’d previously got involved in.

  Above her head Grady asked, ‘Is Virginia’s health the reason Ian’s giving up flying internationally?’

  ‘He tells me it is.’

  Grady leaned back, pushing his hips against Flipper’s hideout as he did. ‘You’re not sure.’

  She’d forgotten how in sync they’d been. How they’d read each other’s minds as quickly as thoughts had popped in there. She slipped out of those wonderfully safe arms and sat back down. She might be spilling her guts but she’d do it standing—sitting—tall. ‘I’m no doubt overreacting. But Dad is tired all the time and he’s lost that joie de vivre that was his trademark.’ What if Dad’s ill, too?

  She’d added to his woes. No father liked to have his daughter turning up on the doorstep pregnant by a man she refused to name or
even acknowledge.

  After placing the mugs on the table, Grady lifted a chair and spun it round to straddle it. With his arms folded across the top he dropped his chin on them and focused his caring eyes on her. ‘Stands to reason he’s not sleeping too well. He’ll be worried sick about Virginia. I’m only surprised he didn’t stop work immediately they found out.’

  ‘Mum wouldn’t have a bar of it. Said that she was still capable of running the orchard and looking out for herself. Told Dad if he gave up work it would be like giving in to the MS and undermining her determination to remain as independent as possible for as long as possible.’

  ‘And that’s why you’re here?’

  ‘Flipper is the perfect excuse.’ Though hauling those cases of lemons was getting tougher by the week. Mainly because it worried her she might do some internal damage. She’d become incredibly cautious. ‘I suspect Mum sees through me, but I’m giving her the opportunity to let go of things in her own time and fashion. Dad’s pleased I’m hanging around. It makes things easier on him to follow Mum’s wishes.’ Mum and Dad were sorting out a difficult situation by give and take on both sides. Like she and Grady should’ve done.

  ‘Makes sense.’ Grady still watched her with that deep intensity of his.

  What did he see? Did her changed persona from wildcat to tame mother-to-be make him glad he’d left her when he had? He’d always enjoyed the fact that she’d had no restraints when it had come to having fun. No way would she put the Cessna into a spin nowadays just for the sheer thrill of twirling round and round as the plane plummeted towards earth.

  Grady broke through her reverie. ‘Your parents have always been close, even though it seems Ian’s spent half their married life flying round the world.’

  ‘Mum reckons that’s what made their relationship so special and strong. They haven’t had time to learn to take each other for granted.’ She picked at the edge of a fingernail. The lime-coloured polish that had matched her wedding outfit looked distinctly jaded. ‘I remember them once sharing a single bed when we stayed at my aunt and uncle’s. Mum’s sister made some smart comment and Mum told her she’d only had half the marriage time Elsie had had and catch-up was always good.’

  Grady grinned. ‘How old were you when you heard that?’

  She chuckled. ‘Twelve. The yuk factor was high, believe me. Of course, I wasn’t meant to overhear the conversation going on between the sisters.’

  She’d learned more than had been good for her at the time. But now? Now she almost envied her parents. Would she ever have the caring, loving, understanding relationship with a man that Mum had?

  Her eyes seemed to take on a life of their own, lifting and fixing on Grady, studying him thoroughly for the first time since last night. Until now she’d been too busy pretending he wasn’t there to really look for who he’d become.

  That slightly long hair was as luxuriant as ever, and not a grey strand in sight. But there were lines on his face that hadn’t been there at eighteen. Caused by his father’s death? Or working to support his mother and sisters? Dumping her? No, not that. He’d known exactly what he’d been doing that day. His words had been clear, leaving no doubt about his intentions. Blink. Shift focus. Those lips still formed heart-melting smiles. Did they still tease with kisses? Kisses on that sensitive spot behind the ear? Between the breasts? Kisses that devoured her mouth?

  ‘Sash?’

  She shot upright, the chair toppling backwards to crash on the tiled floor behind her. What had she been thinking? The problem was she hadn’t been thinking. No, Grady was the problem. He’d crept out of his box again. Why couldn’t he stay put? Why did he want to upset everything? Throw her off beam? She had begun to get her life back on track. She didn’t need this.

  So why had she agreed to have a meal with him? Why put herself on the line by walking inside this house, where she’d known nothing but fun and love? Why, why, why?

  ‘Time I went home,’ she muttered, and searched around for her keys. Found them in her pocket. Snatched up her jacket and turned for the door.

  ‘Sasha.’ Grady caught her arm and turned her gently to face him.

  Oh, that gentleness could wipe away a lot of grief—if she let it. It crept in under her skin, under her guard, made her feel again. Feel the love she missed, feel the emptiness waiting to be filled by someone special. Yeah, and set herself up to be left high and dry all over again. No way, sunshine.

  She jerked her arm free. ‘Thanks for dinner.’ She ignored the dismay and hurt in those blue eyes watching her too closely. ‘And good luck with all your plans for getting the house ready for the market.’

  Not that they’d got around to talking about that. Too busy going over the painful stuff. The front door banged shut behind her, cutting off the light as she stomped down the two steps on her way to the car.

  Light flooded the yard. Grady strode out to join her, opening and holding her door while she clambered in. She snapped the ignition to ‘on’ before looking up into that familiar yet changed face she’d been denying for so long. She locked gazes with Grady, and waited. For what, she had no idea.

  For a long moment he didn’t move then he leaned forward and she figured he was about to kiss her. Her muscles tensed in anticipation, her hormones did the happy-clappy. Her brain tossed a coin—was this good or bad? When his lips brushed hers she knew it was good. More than good. A girl could get lost in that soft kiss, and when he deepened it, she didn’t have a clue about anything but the man kissing her. It was like honey on ice cream, sweet and cool. Delicious. Then his tongue sought hers and cool went to scorching in an instant. So Grady. So them.

  Until Flipper got in on the act, delivering a heavy kick to her side. Sasha gasped, rubbed her side.

  Grady reared back. He muttered something that sounded like an oath, still staring at her, swallowing hard more than once. Finally he seemed to calm down but kept his distance. ‘Where is the baby’s father?’ He asked so calmly and quietly she wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. But when he added, ‘Who is he?’ she knew she had.

  ‘He doesn’t exist.’

  ‘What?’ Grady gaped at her.

  ‘He who doesn’t deserve to be acknowledged no longer exists as far as I’m concerned.’ Except as greaseball in her head. She looked away. ‘He wants no part of my baby’s life.’ Too much information.

  Now he stepped closer, reaching for the ignition to turn it off. Then he peeled her fingers away from the steering-wheel and wrapped her hand in both his. ‘The bastard.’

  How could two words hold so much anger plus hurt for her, as well as concern and affection?

  Lifting her head, she met his gaze. ‘The bastard,’ she repeated softly. ‘He dumped me when the going got tough. Said it had been fun and he’d loved being with me but he didn’t love me enough to stay around.’

  Grady’s hands squeezed tight around hers, loosened. His chest rose sharply. ‘Just as I did.’

  She said nothing. What was there to say?

  ‘Is that what you think, Sash?’

  Gulp. She tugged her hand free, leaned further away from the open door. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’ Shut up, girl. Don’t say another thing. Don’t show your feelings to this man who stomped on them once already. Don’t let him know how worthless he’d made you feel. He used to tell you how strong you were. He wasn’t about to find out how untrue that had turned out to be.

  ‘What if he’s like me, Sasha?’

  Her lips pressed tight, holding back words that had been stewing for years: words she needed to get past. Her hand shook as she reached again for the ignition.

  ‘What if he’s lying? What if he does want you and comes back one day?’

  Her hand banged down on her knee. Her chin shot out and she fixed him with a glare. Anger, pain, despair all combined to roll up her throat and spill out between them. ‘He’s worse. He’s dumped his baby daughter. He doesn’t want to be a part of her life.’ She reached out to grab the front of his shirt and shake him. �
�That makes me the worst mother possible because my girl won’t ever know her father. I didn’t plan on getting pregnant but I still thought I was with a man who cared for me, who would care for his child.’ She wouldn’t have had a relationship with him otherwise. ‘I made a bad choice.’

  She refused to think about the implications of Grady’s revelation. That he might want to come back for her. It wasn’t possible. And even if he did it wasn’t going to happen. She was done with risking her heart.

  Grady placed his hands on her shoulders. ‘We all make mistakes, Sasha. But please stop thinking your baby’s mother is bad. You are so special. She’ll never want for love or kindness. You have those in bucketloads. You love her so much already it’s amazing to see. When you touch your tummy your eyes go all misty with it.’ His Adam’s apple bobbed. ‘She’s a very lucky little girl.’

  Talk about knocking her for six. Never would she have imagined Grady saying something so heartwarming, so caring. ‘Thank you’ was the best she could manage around the tears clogging her throat. She reached up to place her hand on his cheek. ‘I needed to hear that.’

  His eyes locked with hers. So much emotion streamed out at her. Too many emotions to read. ‘If you did then I’m glad I told you.’

  Her stomach hurt from clenching. Her head throbbed from holding in the tears. Her heart ached—because in a different world, at a different time, Grady would’ve been the perfect man for her.

  She turned away. ‘I’d better go home and get some shut-eye. I seem to need more of that these days.’

  As he began closing her door he whispered, ‘Goodnight, Sasha. Sleep tight.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘SLEEP TIGHT. LIKE HOW?’ Sasha asked into the dark for the umpteenth time as she slapped her pillow into shape. Dropping her head back down, the air whooshed out of her lungs. ‘Any sleep at all would be good.’

  Flipper gave her a wee nudge.

  ‘You need to sleep, too, sweetheart. Swimming’s over for the day.’ Sasha ran her hands over her stomach, revelling in the tightness of her skin and the life under her palms. This pregnancy might’ve been unplanned but it had turned out to be the most exciting and life-changing thing to happen.

 

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