The Child Between Them (Men Of Mulhany Crossing Book 2)

by Helen Lacey

  “You should be a monk for the rest of your life?” she queried, cutting him off.

  His mouth flattened. “It’s complicated.”

  “I don’t want them thinking that we’re dating when we’re not,” she said and sighed. “It’s a lie. And I don’t lie.”

  “Okay,” he said impatiently. “You’ve made your point. You don’t want anyone to think we’re an item. I get it. I’ll tell them the truth the next time I see them. In the meantime, how about I give you a tour of the place and you can decide if you want to leave your horse here,” he said and sprang to his feet. “That is the reason you’re here, remember?”

  Holly stood, annoyed with him, with herself, the entire situation. “Sure. Lead the way.”

  The tour lasted for half an hour and by the time they were done, she realized that Chester would certainly have a wonderful life on the Harris farm. The stables were well appointed, the pastures secure and well maintained. And Allen was a kind, experienced horseman who assured her that her adored horse would be safe in his care.

  “Do you feel up to a ride around the place before lunch?” Marshall asked once they left the stables and were walking around toward the long chicken run.

  Holly stopped walking. “I’m not sure I should ride.”

  He pointed toward a quad bike sitting under an awning. “I didn’t mean on horseback,” he said and pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “This is the easiest way to travel to check out the fences and stock.”

  Holly looked at the bike and then toward Marshall. “Okay.”

  He disappeared for several minutes to collect a few supplies and when he returned, he helped her on board and once she was settled and wearing a helmet, he then swung his legs over the front and instructed her to hold on to his waist. Holly did as he asked, snaking her arms around him, settling them on his belly and above his belt buckle. He was tense and she tried not to press too closely against him, but there wasn’t a lot of room on the bike.

  “Relax,” he said and started the bike.

  “I’m relaxed,” she said and felt him shudder from her breath against his neck. “Take your own advice, Harris.”

  He laughed and she immediately felt the tension leave his shoulders.

  “Okay, Holly, a truce…as least for the next hour. Just hold on tight.”

  They drove around for about an hour, over several inclines and paddocks, cruising along the fence perimeter for several miles. It was a warm morning and the sun kissed her arms. They stopped a couple of times and drank the water he’d brought, and they chatted for a while. He told her about the farm, his younger sister and his parents and how they supported him when he decided he wanted to open his own business in town. She envied him. He clearly had a close and loving relationship with his family.

  “You must miss your sister?”

  “I do,” he replied. “But I understood her need to forge her own life. She was never happy living in a small town.” He shrugged. “Who knows, she might come home one day and settle down…but for the moment she’s enjoying living abroad and carving out a successful career. You know, you don’t talk much about you father,” he remarked, passing her the helmet she’d taken off while they took a break.

  Holly shrugged. “Not much to tell.”

  Marshall slanted her a disbelieving look. “Is he that bad?”

  “No,” she replied. “But since I’m a source of constant disappointment to him, I’d prefer not to discuss it.”

  “How could you possibly be a disappointment?”

  “I’m my mother’s daughter,” she replied, ignoring the sudden tightness in her chest at the way he sounded so incredulous of the idea. “My mother ran out…left him with a six year old…I guess he could never quite forgive me for being the reason she left.”

  He reached out and touched her cheek, cupping her jaw. “You don’t really believe that she left because of you?”

  Holly shrugged. “He told me as much many times.”

  Marshall frowned and dropped his hand. “Let me get this straight—your father told you that your mother left because of you?”

  She nodded. “Yes. She didn’t want to be my mother.”

  *****

  Marshall couldn’t believe what she was saying. What kind of parent told their child that sort of thing? He thought of his own parents and his sister and how he’d been raised by two people who openly adored their children. His childhood and teenage years had been grounded in love and respect and he was incredibly grateful for the values they had instilled in both him and his sister.

  “No offense, Holly,” he said and shook his head. “That sounds like a story your father made up to steer the blame away from himself.”

  She actually smiled. “Thank you for trying to make me feel better about it, if that’s what you’re trying to do. But I accepted the truth a long time ago. And it’s not the first time a parent has walked out on their child…nor will it be the last.”

  “Well, I can assure you, that our child will never know what that feels like.”

  Her eyes glittered. “I’m sure we’ll do the best we can, considering the circumstances.”

  The circumstances…

  They weren’t together. They weren’t married. They weren’t in love.

  There was a mountain of disconnect within their relationship. But he wasn’t going to lie to her and make false promises. Marshall had always lived his life by a strong moral code and never resorted to manipulation or deceit, in his business or personal life. Being anything less than completely honest with Holly wasn’t on the cards.

  But he knew, somehow, that even though she argued and seemed annoyed with him most of the time, that she was hoping for something else, something more, from the tenuous relationship they had forged. The way she had clung to him, responded to him, sighed his name against his skin the night they had made love, was impossible to forget. And although Marshall had never considered himself to be overly conceited, Holly’s response to his touch was too earnest and passionate to be disguised.

  “You know, Holly, I do care about you.”

  He wasn’t sure why he said it…why he had the need for the words to be out there between them. But he did. Only, she didn’t look happy to hear them. Far from it.

  “You’re such a jerk.”

  He scowled. “Why? Because I said I cared.”

  “Because you think it’s okay to say whatever you want,” she shot back. “Get a filter, Marshall. I don’t want crumbs from you, okay? I want…I want…”

  “A wedding ring,” he said and grabbed his helmet. “Yeah, I get that, Holly. But I’m not the guy to give you that.”

  “Of course you’re not,” she said and got onto the quad bike. “It’s already crowded on your ring finger, Marshall. And despite you obviously thinking that I have marital designs on you, rest assured I do not. No woman in her right mind would want to tie herself to a man who is in love with someone else. And you are clearly still in love with your wife. I value myself,” she said and tapped her chest gently, “way too much to settle for a man like you. When I get married—and I do hope that one day I will—it will be to someone who loves me. Someone who thinks I am the great love of his life. And maybe that’s a pipedream, but it’s what I want and I won’t compromise on that score. I only hope that he will love my child too.”

  Marshall’s hackles rose. Holly’s words about settling for him, and about marrying another man and then that man being a part of their baby’s life, irked him directly to his core.

  “Our child,” he said and stepped onto the bike. “Remember that while you’re making plans to marry this great love of yours, that the baby inside you already has a father. And I intend raising this child with you.”

  She gripped his waist, digging her fingers in harder than she had earlier. “And what if you get married again, don’t you think your new wife will protest to you being a one hundred percent hands-on dad to a child you have with another woman.”

  “I’m not getting mar
ried,” he said irritably and started the ignition. “I told you that.”

  “Actually, I think you said you wouldn’t be marrying me,” she reminded him. “That leaves a whole world full of other women to choose from.”

  “If I was going to get married again,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the sound of the engine. “Then of course it would be to you, since you’re having my baby.”

  “Hah! You’d make a terrible husband.”

  Marshall turned his head and their helmets clashed. “Actually, I’m a damned good husband!”

  He drove off, conscious not to go too fast, too quick. By the time they were back at the house he could hear her temper seething. She got off the bike as soon as he pulled up, ditched the helmet and strode off to the house, ignoring his request to wait for him. He watched as Reggie greeted her, jumping around and wagging his tail and she patted the dog several times as she walked toward the house, her hair shining and looking as fiery as her temper.

  Marshall sighed and took off his helmet.

  “My wife says she’s a nice girl.”

  Marshall turned and spotted Allen standing by the stable doors. He shrugged. “She can be.”

  “She’s mad with you.”

  He made a scoffing sound. “She’s always mad with me.”

  Allen chuckled. “Well, they say that’s what keeps the passion alive.”

  Marshall was thinking about the other man’s words as he headed for the house. Passion. Well, he and Holly certainly had plenty of that. Sometimes, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was enough. And of course, he liked her. Holly was smart and funny and good to be around. He enjoyed her company and suspected that they might be able to forge a solid friendship. Only, Marshall knew the elephant in the room made that impossible. The elephant being the intense desire they had for one another. He’d never experienced attraction like it before. When he was married, he liked the status-quo of his relationship with Lynette. It made getting on with things, with life, easy and uncomplicated. But nothing was easy when it came to Holly.

  She was in the kitchen, making tea, talking with Deidre preparing lunch and he stood in the doorway for a moment and watched her. There was something about the way she held her shoulders, the way she had a defiant tilt to her chin, that affected him deep down. And he resented her for it. If he was going to get sucked into a raw, intense chemistry with someone, then it should have been his wife. But he’d never reacted to Lynette the way he did to Holly.

  But she was so damned beautiful, with her lovely curves and her hair and skin, she was made of color and fire and his libido jumped whenever she was near him. Sometimes, even simply thinking about her heated his blood and got him hard. She looked up and their gazes clashed and Marshall felt like he’d been pitched in the gut with a soccer ball.

  “Lunch time,” Deidre announced and took a couple of plates to the table.

  Marshall looked at the pile of sandwiches. “Are you and Allen joining us?”

  His housekeeper shook her head and walked back around the counter, returning to the table with a pitcher of juice and glasses. “No, but thank you. We’ll leave you two alone while you’re here. You don’t need us oldies hovering around.”

  Holly came around the table, one hand on a hip. “You’re so spoiled,” she said and raised a brow in his direction and then glanced at Deirdre. “He can cook for himself, you know.”

  “I know,” she replied and grinned. “But he’s here so rarely these days, I like to fuss a little when I can.”

  Holly brows went up further. “Yes, he was saying earlier how he needs to spend more time at home.”

  Marshall tried to be outraged by the fact that the two women were talking about him as though he wasn’t in the room, but instead, felt a kind of slowly gathering amusement. It had been a long time since he’d observed laughter and friendship in the house. His fault, since he rarely made it back to the farm. But Holly was right—it was wrong of him to neglect the garden when it had meant so much to his wife.

  Once Deidre left, Marshall sat at the table and waited for Holly to join him. She sat down and grabbed a sandwich, taking a few bites before she spoke again.

  “I’ve decided I will leave Chester here.”

  Marshall filled the glasses with juice. “For how long?”

  She drank some juice. “The foreseeable future.”

  “You know, you’ve been pretty vague about your long-term plans, Holly. I know you plan on having the baby here, but what happens afterwards…a year from now? Two years? Three? I would like to know what plans you have for our child.”

  She sat back in the chair. “I…I don’t really know. My dad wants me to come home and to do my part for the family business.”

  “Selling real estate?”

  She shrugged. “Why not, it’s a perfectly respectable occupation. And my father and brothers are very good at it.”

  “Because it’s not your dream. And you should follow your dreams.”

  She sighed. “Not everyone has that chance, Marshall.”

  He didn’t believe her. She was avoiding the reality. Avoiding the question of where she would permanently live once their child was born. “If you want to make fancy cakes, then make them. Open a store or start a business from home. Hell, you can use my kitchen if you want to.”

  She dropped the sandwich on the plate. “Your kitchen? What are you suggesting?”

  Marshall got to his feet, suddenly agitated. “I don’t exactly know. Maybe…maybe…” The words got stuck in his throat. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to say. But he knew he had to say something. Because he didn’t want her leaving town. Or him. Not ever. “You could live with me.”

  Chapter Eight

  Holly stared at him, watching fascinated as color slashed his cheeks. He looked completely out of sorts. More uncomfortable than she had ever seen him before.

  “Live with you?” she echoed, wide-eyed. “Are you out of your mind?”

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s an idea.”

  “A dumb idea,” she refuted. “I’m quite happy in my little house and my yard and my job with Sam. And once the baby comes, I’ll decide about the future. Until then, stop trying to control me.”

  “This isn’t about control, Holly,” he said quietly. “It’s about making sure that you and the baby are safe and cared for and—”

  “This isn’t the nineteen fifties, you know,” she shot back impatiently. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m very capable of looking after myself.”

  “The baby is half my responsibility, Holly. I have the right to—”

  “I know,” she said and got to her feet, ignoring the food as a wave of nausea rolled in her belly. “And I have no plans on denying you access or time or anything when it comes to this child. You need to trust me. Just as I need to trust you. Because really, that’s what this relationship of ours needs to be about.”

  “Holly, I don’t—”

  “We’re not in love,” she reminded him. “We’re not dating. We are simply two people who had a one-night stand and made a baby. Let’s try and make the best of things, okay? And that doesn’t include hanging out with your in-laws, having date nights or me moving in with you. You want everything your own way, and I understand that because you’ve probably always lived your life that way. But I’m not about to be controlled by you or anyone else. I’m not invested in you, Marshall, but I am invested in this child.”

  Of course, she was lying. But she would never allow him to know it. The last thing she wanted was Marshall thinking she was pining for him, or longing for something to happen between them, because that would be too humiliating to bear. Best he believe she was indifferent.

  His brown eyes darkened. “And that puts me in my place?”

  She shrugged. “I just don’t see the point in spending time together if all we do is argue and sing the same old song. And since we’re here until tomorrow, I’d rather spend the time talking positively about the baby and deciding
on names and things like that.”

  “Rosie,” he said simply. “For a girl.”

  Holly’s mouth twisted. “That’s pretty. I like it. And for a boy?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “What’s your dad’s name?”

  “Colin,” she said and screwed her nose up. “Yours?”

  “Brandon.”

  “Better,” she said and nodded. “I like that. What does the ‘K’ stand for in your name?”

  “Kyle.”

  “That’s nice too. Kyle Harris…Brandon Harris the second,” she mused and shrugged agreeably. “Both of those sound good.”

  His gaze narrowed. “I wasn’t sure you would allow our child to have my last name.”

  “I’m not mean,” she said quietly. “And I’ve never once said I don’t want you to be this child’s father in every sense of the word. I do. I just don’t want you thinking that I will agree to every demand or do something foolish like move in with you.” She took a deep breath and then sighed. “I think I’d like to lie down for a while. I feel a little nauseated and—”

  “You’re sick?” he said, coming closer. “Why didn’t you say something. Should I call a doctor? Do you need—”

  “I’m fine,” she assured him as she held up her hands and cut off his words. “Just normal baby belly nausea. Don’t fret. It’s been a tiring morning and I need a rest.” She looked toward the table. “Make sure you clean up.”

  She turned and left the room, not taking a solid breath until she was in the solitary confines of her room. Once she shut the door, Holly kicked off her shoes and flopped onto the bed, blinking back the tears burning her eyes. She wasn’t sure why Marshall evoked so much emotion within her.

  Yes, you do…

  She wished…she longed…for her feelings toward him to disappear. There wasn’t any good reason for her to be in love with him. He gave her nothing, just words about doing the right thing and how he would be on hand to help raise their child.

  Live with him?

  She wasn’t about to admit that for a nano-second she had been tempted to say yes.