The You I've Come To Know (A Mother's Love Book 1)

by Alison Kent

  She wanted to be Joel’s love, not just his lover.

  Gordy trotted up and sat at her feet, his tongue lolling and whining in that tone of voice that meant she had company. Not just company, but the one visitor guaranteed to put that doggy smile on that doggy face. The timing was right for Joel’s shift to be over. But lately he didn’t come calling until later in the day.

  She decided he liked those hours best, picked them on purpose in fact, knowing that after a long day they’d both be too tired to talk about much more than the weather, the economy, politics—easy subjects that had nothing to do with their impending parenthood.

  She still had a bit of trouble with that, investing in a partnership with a man who wasn’t her partner. The only consensus they’d reached so far was that their child would be a Wolfsley.

  For a man who hadn’t wanted a child, Joel had been strangely adamant on that one issue, and Willa had done her best not to read anything into his insistence. Oh, she wanted nothing more than to give their child his father’s name. But she’d meant what she’d said.

  Being a Wolfsley had nothing to do with the letters that spelled out the name. And she’d needed reassurance from Joel that he understood the commitment involved, that he didn’t plan to be a Disneyland daddy. That he’d be there for the not-so-fun stuff, too.

  Right now he looked like fun stuff was the furthest thing from his mind, she mused, looking up to see him cutting through the hedge between their driveways. He wasn’t moving as purposefully across her yard as she’d grown used to him doing. His long-legged stride seemed almost hesitant in fact, definitely slow of pace, and Willa frowned.

  Then she looked closer. Her brow relaxed, worry let go and hormones took charge. She blew out a long slow breath.

  He hadn’t changed before walking over and he did his uniform proud. More than proud, because the clothes he wore were more than a uniform. Dark navy pants, light blue short-sleeved shirt, badges, insignias, holstered weapon, dark framed, dark lensed sunglasses...

  Willa’s stomach did one flip then another until the tumbling of nerves turned into one long routine with each step that brought him closer. The setting sun bronzed his skin which already glowed with a midsummer tan. The hair on his forearms was bleached near white. The hair on his head was short but for the longer strands on top.

  Willa allowed her appreciation to get personal, her imagination to peel away the external trappings. Joel Wolfsley had the body of a god, sculpted and toned and firmly muscled.

  She knew what it felt like to run her hands across that wide chest, to taste the hair-dusted skin on his abdomen, to take him into her body and draw from him a response that left him a shuddering mess.

  Right now, she was the shuddering mess.

  Oh God, she was going to have this man’s baby and she loved him with all her heart.

  “You’re early,” she remarked and offered him a warm smile. It wasn’t easy when her mouth was trembling and her eyes were threatening to spill tears of emotion.

  His mouth quirked. “Early for what?”

  She shrugged and opened the first kennel’s wire-mesh door. “Early for you. Lately, it’s been after dark before you show up ’round these here parts.” She looked back at him over her shoulder. “You look good in the glasses, by the way. Very... Bad Boys.”

  “Thanks. I think.” He nodded toward her smaller feeding buckets. “You need help with those?”

  “I’m fine. Strong as an ox. Uh, the female version anyway.” She flexed her free arm and decided not to accept his help on principle. And because, now that he’d gotten closer, the frown lines across his forehead were noticeable and deep.

  She’d been right in gauging his step as hesitant. “What’s up?”

  He came closer, out of the sun and into the kennel area shaded by an abundance of tall pines. “I came to deliver an invitation.”

  “From whom?”

  “My mother.”

  His mother? Willa dropped her pail of chow. The tiny dachshund in the pen rushed to gobble the bounty. She grabbed him up, squatted to scoop the spill. “No you don’t, Little Frank. Your bottomless pit has a bottom and it only takes a half cup of food to find it.”

  Dog in hand, she started out of the pen, stopping when Joel handed her the whisk broom he’d grabbed from the pegboard behind her awning covered work bench. “Thanks. You read my mind.”

  He held the dustpan while she swept up the spill. “Part of the job, ma’am. All part of the job.”

  A job which was difficult to finish with the low-flying dog moving in and out and around their legs. Willa moved Little Frank and his food bowl to the rear of the pen and out of the way.

  “Stay,” she ordered and hoped for the best from the feisty pup. Joel had all but the far-scattered nuggets of chow off the floor when she returned to finish the job. ‘I'd say mind reading, not to mention kitchen detail, is a bit above and beyond the call of duty. Wouldn’t you?”

  “Depends on whose kitchen I’m detailing. Or whose mind I’m reading.”

  “That comes easy to you? Reading minds?” Latching the first pen, she moved to the second. Anything to delay discussing the invitation that brought him here.

  Joel shrugged. “Some are easier than others. The minds with not a lot going on upstairs are easy to anticipate.”

  He held the bucket while Willa measured food into the bowl of the Airedale in the next pen. “And the rest?”

  “Just as easy. Once you get beyond the smoke and mirrors.”

  Uh-oh. “Smoke and mirrors?”

  He nodded. His sunglasses obscured his eyes. “Classic tricks. Like distraction. Avoidance.”

  Double uh-oh. “Avoidance?”

  “Yep. Changing the subject’s an old standby. Suspect thinks I’ll lose track of what I’m after. Backfires as soon as I get a look at his eyes.”

  Willa backed out of the Airedale’s pen, skipped the third, and moved to the fourth where a large Doberman sat waiting for his meal. “You might want to let me handle this one.”

  Joel’s hand flattened against the wire-mesh door. “It’s not working, Willa. The distractions. Or the avoidance. I don’t have time to play games.”

  Willa closed her eyes, opened them slowly. “Fine. What is it exactly that I’ve been unable to distract you from?”

  Funny how he looked so distracted when she said that. Like he had lost track of what it was he was after. It was the way he looked at her, and she couldn’t even see his eyes—only his stance and set of jaw, the pulse in his throat and flush of skin.

  He pulled his sunglasses from his face. “My mother’s invitation.”

  “What sort of invitation?”

  “Saturday. The annual Wolfsley Fourth of July Come ‘N’ Get It. You’re invited.”

  Trepidation grew bolder. With steps slow and even, she carried the bucket of food to the workbench and left it there. Then she turned her full attention on Joel who’d followed.

  “Why am I invited?”

  He held her gaze and said, “She wants to meet the mother of my child.”

  “You told your mother?” Her voice barely reached a whisper, blocked, as it was, by a fast rising flood of anger.

  “And my father. By now I doubt there’s a Wolfsley who doesn’t know.”

  Willa wasn’t sure she could speak. She wasn’t sure she could breathe. “How could you!”

  Joel arched a brow. “How could I what?”

  How could he sound so arrogantly cool? How could he be so arrogantly presumptuous? How could he be so arrogantly... within his rights?

  She gestured expansively, even as her fury washed away in near tears of resignation. “Tell everyone. How could you tell everyone?”

  Joel reached for her. With one hand, he lifted a strand of hair from her shoulder, tucked it behind her ear, slid his palm to her nape. His eyes were red and damp when he said, “Willa, Baby. How could I not?”

  He couldn’t look at her that way. She couldn’t stand it if he looked at her that wa
y, his eyes so searching, so honest, asking her to see his side, to understand.

  She couldn’t stand here while he looked at her that way, not now, not when they hadn’t first discussed who they would tell, how they would break the news. They had so much to talk over, to decide on, to plan for—all about the joint future they weren’t going to share.

  No, she couldn’t bear for him to look at her. Not when her heart was breaking because she loved this man, the best friend she’d ever had, the lover she’d always wanted.

  This man, who would never be her love.

  He’d agreed to be part of their child’s life. So, why was she surprised that he’d told his family? He might be a loner but he was a Wolfsley, part of a loyal pack. A pack that would welcome her child—and to which she would never belong.

  She pulled away and began to pace, stopped, pushed her hair back from her face with shaking hands. She had to get a grip. And now.

  “Okay. What exactly did you say?”

  “I told them we got naked and made a baby. Criminy, Willa. What do you think I said?” He looked away, looked back, braced both hands at his hips and sighed. “I told them we’ve been involved for a while now. In a relationship. And that we’re going to have a baby.”

  Think, Willa. Think. “Did they ask? What type of relationship?”

  “I think they figured that one out on their own.” He frowned then, and stared at her as if he was looking at a stranger, or worse—a woman he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Willa? Are you ashamed of what we have?”

  The question’s emotional punch struck with a solid blow, delivered as it was in a voice gone wooden, cold—so unlike Joel that Willa had to take a step back. Now, Willa. Tell him now that it’s over.

  “Ashamed? No, Joel. Not ashamed. But I’m not sure... that under the circumstances...” She studied her short fingernails, kicked a twig from the toe of her boot. “That maybe it’s not wise to... continue. Now that things have... changed.”

  “Changed?” he asked, the word sounding as if it had been put through a meat grinder.

  Shivering, she nodded. It had been hard enough to say what she’d said. She wasn’t going to compound the hurt by saying more. Not when her knees were feeling the strain of keeping her upright.

  “How have things changed, Willa? Because we’re having a baby?”

  “Friends being lovers is one thing. Friends having a baby puts a new twist on things, don’t you think?” She backed into the workbench and crossed her arms. “There’s more at stake here now than just a good time.”

  ‘We’ve always had more going for us than a good time,” he said and she looked away.

  Joel leaned closer, lowered his voice until his words reached deep into the part of her she was trying to keep in one piece.

  “You know as well as I do that what we’ve done” —he moved forward—“what we’ve had” —he took another step—“this thing between us...” He was near enough now that he breathed Willa‘s’ breath. “It’s not going to go away just because you want it to.”

  Because she wanted it to? Because she wanted it to?

  Even as his voice seeped into her pores like soft honey, his words grated over her skin. Pride could be a funny thing. Especially when an emotional connection she valued, a physical bond she cherished was made to sound like an... an... allergy.

  Hackles raised, Willa lifted her chin and stood toe to toe with Joel. “Yes. We’ve had more than a good time. We’ve had a physical relationship rare even between committed couples. We’ve laughed and played and talked long into the night.

  “Talked about things that matter, things that mean a lot. Things we haven’t shared with others,” she said and then she bit her tongue before she said more.

  “But that’s not enough.”

  “No.” She shook her head. Vehemently. “It’s not. Not anymore.”

  “Because of the baby.”

  Because I love you. “Yes. Because of the baby. I guess I’m not quite as progressive as I’d thought.” She relaxed a bit, even drew a steady breath. “When this relationship involved you and me and no one else, we only had ourselves to answer to. But now we have a child to consider.”

  “I want to be involved in our child’s life, Willa. You know that.” He blew out an exasperated breath. “Call me dense, but I don’t see the problem.”

  It would be hard for him to see what he wasn’t looking for. “Okay, then. I’ll try to clear the fog. Say it’s career day. First grade. Our child wants nothing more than to show off his Big Bad Wolf dad. All those badges. That big bad gun. You with me so far?”

  Joel nodded. Looked tolerantly bored.

  “Great.” Willa began to pace, building up the steam to knock that bored façade into tomorrow. She could deal with anything but indifference. “Now, he tells his teacher he’s not sure his father can make it. To career day. In fact, he hasn’t seen his father since the last time he spent the night with his mother. He doesn’t know when his father will show up again.”

  Joel shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

  Willa went on, illustrating her points with one expressive hand. ‘“So, your parents don’t live together?’ his teacher will ask. And he’ll tell her that, no, they don’t. They’re just real good friends. His father comes over when he can to help with homework and curve balls and to spend the night with his mother.”

  Joel looked off into the distance, looked back. “You make it sound worse than it is.”

  Willa stopped pacing, made sure she stopped in his direct line of vision. “No, Joel I make it sound exactly like it is. Exactly. Like I said, we have a child to consider now. You and I may be perfectly comfortable with our... arrangement. And families now are as diverse as they can possibly be. We both know that, but not all the world is so tolerant. And that’s the world our innocent and impressionable child will encounter.”

  “Criminy, Willa. There’re a lot of kids whose parents don’t live in the same house.”

  “Do they sleep together?”

  The tic in Joel’s jaw jumped. The pulse in his temple flared. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to take a poll and get back to you.”

  “You do that,” she said, her voice incredibly even when everything inside her was upside down.

  Joel spun on his heel, retreated six steps, and stopped. Turned. Shoved his sunglasses back on his face. Looked at the ground then, mouth grim, at Willa. “About Saturday.”

  Willa nodded and reached for the bucket of chow. She could do this one thing. Just this one more thing. “Sure. I’ll go.”

  “I’ll pick you up at ten?”

  She nodded again. And then she watched him walk away.

  It was the hardest thing she could remember doing in her life.

  Chapter Eighteen

  LIKE JENNIFER AND ROB, THE senior Wolfsleys lived in the Woodlands, a community of executive homes hidden beneath acres of forest north of Houston. Street signs were ground level and billboards nonexistent.

  Green belts cut through the wooded areas, allowing easy foot access to neighborhood schools and parks. To get back to nature, residents had only to open their own front doors.

  The Wolfsley home sat deep in the corner where one road curved into another and had a backyard of at least half an acre. It made the perfect setting for a family cookout when the family was the size of this one. There had to be thirty people gathered.

  “Don’t worry,” Joel said, placing a hand on Willa’s shoulder as he walked beside her. “Not everyone here is a Wolfsley.”

  “I was beginning to wonder.” She was beginning to have heart palpitations. The six-foot cedar gate latched behind them and Willa jumped.

  Joel chuckled, squeezed her shoulder, moved his hand to the base of her neck. “Nervous?”

  “Of course I’m nervous. I’m being thrown to the wolves, here.” She pulled up short, dragged Joel to the side of the house where deep green shrubbery standing eight feet high hid them from the backyard party. A perfect place
to make out, she thought, wondering if he ever had.

  “Tell me something,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose between forefinger and thumb. “Besides your parents, who knows about us?”

  “About us?” Joel emphasized the last word just enough to make Willa squirm.

  She’d turned down his proposal. She’d sent him packing. There was no us. “Okay. About the baby. Who knows?”

  “Who in general? Or who out of the people here?”

  Dread settled to the cold tips of her fingers. She leaned back against the brick wall of the house and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Joel was leaning over her... and his eyes were smiling. Why were his eyes smiling?

  He wore a gray gym T-shirt today with denim shorts and athletic shoes. One hand was at his waist. The other he’d braced on the wall above her head. He was way too close when she needed distance.

  Here she was, doing her damnedest to be independent and strong in the face of the coming ordeal, and still she wanted nothing more than to feel those strong arms around her, to bury her face in his wide protective chest.

  Love was stupid.

  Strong, Willa. Be strong. “Everyone knows then?”

  “Only the family.”

  “And how much of your family is here?”

  “Well,” he hedged. “That’s hard to say.”

  “Try.”

  “Hmm. Annie’s in school and waited too late to get a flight out. But I’m pretty sure she’s the only one missing. Moira’s here. Carolyn and her husband. Jen and Rob, of course. All the nieces and nephews and I think a couple of my dad’s sisters and their families. The rest are neighbors and friends.”

  “So, half of the three dozen people here are family and they all know that you and me—me, a woman they’ve never met before—are going to have a baby.” Eyes closed, she slumped further until she felt spineless. “Great. Just great.”

  “You don’t know the Wolfsleys, Willa. Babies are a major event. This one more than usual.”