He could ruin her.
Chapter 15
Kyle rode back to the Ngatas with Tui and insisted on taking care of Storm while she went on up to the cottage after he’d noticed the fine lines of strain radiating out from her mouth. He’d left the mare grazing in the paddock with Isaac’s horse and the other two who’d been on the trek. Tui’s brother’s imposing SUV was parked in front of the main house, but since Isaac didn’t come out to speak to him while he was tending to Storm, he decided not to hang around.
Isaac knew where to find him if he felt inclined to use Kyle as a convenient punching bag.
His family was another kettle of fish, one he needed to tackle head on. With a club.
As expected, his mother’s and brothers’ vehicles were lined up outside the homestead. Bracing himself for the onslaught, Kyle strode up the path and into the house. They were waiting for him in the kitchen. His mother sat at the head of the dining table with a glass tumbler of ice cubes and clear liquid, a three-quarters-empty bottle of vodka in front of it. Mum not pretending she wasn’t a heavy drinker meant she was really upset.
Next to her, sitting ramrod straight in his chair and shooting anxious glances at the vodka bottle, was Dave. Matt sat at the opposite end of the table to their mum, elbows on the table, palms over his eyes, holding the weight of his drooping head. He didn’t look up when Kyle entered the room. Pacing a groove into the floorboards was Eric, and his upper lip curled as he caught sight of Kyle. He suspected his mother had demanded to have the first word, since all his brothers remained closed mouthed as he slid into one of the dining chairs.
“Let’s hear it, then,” he said as the silence thickened like sticky toffee around them. Toffee sabotaged with razor blades, if his mother’s glare was any indication.
“Is she going to terminate the baby?” she asked stiffly.
“No.”
The hard line of her mouth softened. “She’s keeping it?”
Kyle’s gut gnawed on itself and he swallowed hard. “She hasn’t decided whether she’ll raise the baby herself or not.”
His mother choked out a snort and picked up the glass, ice cubes rattling like gunfire. “She hasn’t decided. Please. What about what you decide is best for your kid?”
“We’ll figure something out.”
“You want this baby, don’t you?” Dave’s sympathetic gaze met his.
It’d been Dave who’d picked up the phone that morning when Kyle had rung his mother to tell her Lydia had miscarried. Shock had loosened his tongue, and he’d blurted the news out before Dave could pass the phone on.
“Yeah.” And being asked so bluntly, Kyle felt the truth of it resonate through his very marrow. He wanted this baby, boy or girl, he didn’t care.
“Well.” His mother set down her drink. “If you want this baby, you’d better get a move on and find yourself a good lawyer.”
“What? Why?”
Her eyebrow arched over a chilly stare. “You think the Ngata family will allow you any kind of access to the kid? They’ll stash Tui away somewhere until she gives birth, then she’ll hand over the baby to one of her many relatives to raise.”
“You don’t know her,” he bit out. “She wouldn’t do that.”
Would she? Hadn’t she already told him point blank that she didn’t want this baby? His mother’s unwavering stare sowed doubt deep into his heart.
After a moment, she picked up her glass again.
“To be fair, son,” she said in a gentler tone, “you don’t know her either. She’s beautiful and spirited, I’ll give you that. But be honest with yourself; how well do you know her? Is she the type of woman you’d want as a mother to your son?”
“She’s the type of woman he wants to bang every chance he gets,” Eric sneered as he paced to the fridge and spun to face the opposite wall. “At least until she gets fat.”
Matt dropped his hands. “Shut up, Eric. That isn’t helping.”
Kyle’s fists clenched, but he planted his feet solidly on the floor and refused to take the bait.
Eric threw up his hands. “Just calling it how I see it. Big bro is lust drunk and infatuated. Probably has some screwed-up romantic idea that the three of them will take a crack at playing happy families.”
“Why shouldn’t they?” Dave’s chair screeched as he jerked around to face Eric. “Don’t pretend you give a crap about Kyle’s happiness like the rest of us.”
Eric shot him the finger and Dave huffed, turning back to Kyle.
“Ignore him,” he said. “It’s obvious that you care about Tui and this baby, and I’m sure she’ll make a good mother once she gets used to the idea.” He shot a quelling glance down both directions of the table. “But if I were you, I’d convince her to move back to Auckland, away from all the family drama up here.”
“Solid argument,” Matt said. “You might make a go of it without her family and yours breathing down your necks.”
“Excuse me?” His mother’s glass cracked down on the tabletop. “That’s my first grandchild you’re talking about taking two hundred miles away from me.”
“His business is in Auckland, Mum,” Dave said. “It’s not going to run itself. He’s going back there soon after New Year’s anyway.”
After New Year’s? With the shock of Tui’s pregnancy he’d almost forgotten about his return to the city. And Christmas and New Year’s were only six weeks away. Six weeks to convince Tui to let him become part of this baby’s life.
“Wait,” he said to his mother. “You’re talking about your grandchild, but I thought you hated the fact of this baby’s existence?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She sniffed. “Now that I’ve had a moment to get over the shock, I’m looking forward to being a grandma. How could I hate my eldest son’s first child?”
Except it wasn’t his first child. Kyle’s first child had never made it into his arms, never had the chance to meet its mother or grandparents or aunts and uncles. Icy pebbles dropped into the pit of his stomach and he fought the urge to jump back in Ranger’s saddle and ride hell for leather back to Tui’s.
Tui. He winced but tried not to let it show on his face.
“Will you ever accept her as the mother of my child?” he asked quietly.
Her chin jutted out. “If you can accept that her family burned Ross alive and had the audacity to blame us for that fire, then I’m sure I’ll find a way to tolerate the girl.”
That was a no, then. And part of him—a small but cancerous part of his soul—understood. For all of Ross’s flaws, he hadn’t deserved to die such a horrible death, accident or not. Thinking of coming face-to-face with Pete Ngata, the man Griff was convinced was behind the fire, made him feel sick to his stomach. This was his son or daughter’s blood.
He stood and shoved the wooden chair back under the table. “Good talk.” He briefly met each of his brothers’ eyes, then switched to his mother. “Glad I can count on your support.”
He walked out of the house and heard footsteps in the hallway behind him. He turned at the base of the steps to see Dave leaning against the doorframe.
“Well, that was one of our better family meetings,” his brother said.
Kyle snorted out a laugh as Dave rolled his eyes. “Guess it beat the time when Mum grounded Eric for a year for taking her car without permission and ripping the front bumper off.”
“He’s still her golden boy, though.” Dave twisted his mouth and scratched his jaw. “Listen, I just wanted to say that you do have my support. None of us are Ngata fans, but Tui seems okay.” He shrugged. “Anyway, it’s none of our business. But I really do think you guys would have a better chance of making it work as far away from Bounty Bay as you can get.”
“You’re probably right.” Kyle shoved a hand in his pocket. “I just don’t know if Tui would be happy being so far away from her family.”
“Mate, up until her dad’s accident she was living all over the country. Never stayed in one place for long, so I’ve heard.�
� Dave shrugged. “She’s untamable, that one. You’ve got your work cut out for you getting her to settle down in one place anywhere.”
“You think?” Even though he really didn’t care to hear his brother’s opinion on what a flight risk Tui was.
“Yeah, but if anyone can tame her, you can.” He shot Kyle an ear-to-ear grin. “It’ll at least be fun trying.”
“Thanks,” he said dryly, but his chest gave a little squeeze at his brother’s teasing. “I do appreciate you having my back.”
Dave pushed himself away from the doorframe. “What are brothers for? See ya later.” He disappeared back into the house.
Kyle retraced his steps, stopping to rub Ranger’s sturdy neck. “What do you think about all of this, boy?”
The horse paused in his cropping of long grass and whickered, shaking his mane. Yeah. Kyle sighed. He didn’t know either.
After a short but heated debate, Kyle won the right to drive them to Whangarei where Pete and Ariana were staying. He won by default—Tui dashed into the cottage’s bathroom mid-argument—and she seemed resigned when he suggested she take her turn behind the wheel later. When she’d stopped feeling like warmed-over crap. Her words, not his.
They’d had a later-than-optimal start to the two-hour drive south because he’d been forced to bribe Matt to check on Beaker during the day. If his cat barely tolerated him, then he loathed Matt. Thinking of Beaker’s reaction to Tui the day before yesterday made him smile.
“Something funny?” Tui said from the passenger seat.
She clutched a bottle of ginger ale which he’d bought her at a gas station/toilet break a few miles back. The look she sent him could’ve soured milk.
“Just remembering my brother’s last interaction with Beaker.”
That seemed a safer option than admitting that a superstitious part of him wanted to read more into his crabby cat’s reaction than was warranted. Beaker normally didn’t differentiate between genders; he hated everyone equally. Except for Kyle’s ex-wife, and now Tui.
Her frown flipped upside down. He’d told her the story the other afternoon. “I still can’t believe Beaker trapped Matt in the kitchen for fifteen minutes simply by growling at him.”
“That and the threat of Beaker’s claws. Matt’s still bitching about his ankle scratches.”
“Brave man. Take the next left,” she said.
He followed Tui’s directions for the next ten minutes, driving past scrubby mangroves, crimson-flowered pohutukawa trees, and bays dotted with moored sailboats until they arrived at a Kiwi-style bach facing the inlet’s sheltered waters.
“Oh hell,” Tui said as they caught a glimpse of a black SUV parked in the holiday house’s driveway. “Isaac’s here.”
Worse than that, he discovered while pulling in behind the SUV, Isaac and Sam were there. The two brothers appeared on the front deck, side by side, arms folded across their chests, wraparound shades likely shielding their murderous glares as he parked and climbed out of his vehicle.
If Tui hadn’t told him she’d spoken to Sam about her pregnancy, Kyle would’ve guessed it by the man’s biting-on-walnuts bunched jaw and fierce scowl. All Tui would reveal about the follow-up conversation with her brothers was that it had gone as well as could be expected. He forced his shoulders to straighten as a third man joined Isaac and Sam on the deck—Tui’s dad.
It’d been years since Kyle had seen Pete Ngata, but in some ways he hadn’t changed since Kyle was a teenager. He was still as tall as his sons, but the bulk of muscle he remembered had softened—if that was the correct word—into lean, sinewy strength. That strength wasn’t as apparent in his lower body as he’d developed an uneven gait, favoring his injured leg, and he probably should’ve been using the cane Kyle spotted leaning against the house. Stubborn pride ran through both families, it seemed. Pete’s hair that’d once been black like his boys contained a lot more gray, and laugh lines had worn deep grooves around his eyes and into his cheeks.
Pete wasn’t laughing now. Though he had a smile for his daughter, his gaze, when it landed on Kyle, was coolly reptilian, like a boa constrictor eying up a baby goat.
“Thought we heard an unfamiliar vehicle,” Pete said in lieu of a greeting. “This is a nice surprise.”
He directed his words to Tui, who was rushing up the deck steps to him. Pete enfolded her in a bear hug, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh. When she slipped out of her dad’s embrace, she half turned toward Kyle. He’d decided for personal safety reasons to stay back by his SUV until invited into enemy territory. The description popping into his head caused him to wince—he had to stop thinking that the Ngatas were his enemy. He didn’t have enemies, dammit, and he was used to negotiating with people from all walks of life, some who tested his ability to remain calm and professional to the max.
So why the shaky sensation squirming around his gut as Tui bit her lower lip and met his gaze with worried eyes?
“Dad, this is Kyle Griffin,” she said.
“Know who he is,” Pete said gruffly.
Kyle strode forward and offered his hand. “Nice to see you again, sir.”
“I bet.” But he gave Kyle’s hand a firm shake, without the male posturing, bone-grinding grip he’d been half expecting.
Kyle repeated the gesture to Isaac, who shook his hand then unsubtly wiped his palm down his pants leg, and Sam, who had no compunction about crushing Kyle’s fingers in his.
Pete turned to Tui. “Ma’s inside getting lunch ready. Go give her a hand, āe?”
Tui’s brow crinkled. “I thought I would—”
Her father merely lifted his shaggy eyebrows and Tui caved.
“Okay,” she said, and with a warning glance at her brothers and a concerned one at him, disappeared through the open French doors. “Be nice, you lot,” she called over her shoulder.
“Anyone would think we’re planning to gut you like a fish,” Pete grumbled. “Come and sit down with a beer.”
He made his way carefully across the deck toward the outdoor setting of wicker couches positioned to offer the best views of the bay. He eased himself into one with a grimace and flipped open the lid of a large cooler, ice rattling as he pulled out a bottle.
“Some of us are considering it.” Sam brushed past Kyle to take the spot next to his father.
Isaac gave a noncommittal grunt, snatching up his half-empty beer bottle from an outdoor coffee table and slouching into one of the two Adirondack chairs. Since the second chair was a short distance away from the wicker couches, Kyle opted to take his chances in it. Isaac passed him the beer his father had cracked open, and even though it was a brew Kyle liked, he gulped half of it down without tasting it. He found three sets of stern Ngata gazes locked onto his face when he lowered the bottle.
“Thirsty, eh?” Pete said dryly.
“Yeah. Long drive.” Did the man have any idea of why he and Tui were there? His stomach clenched around the sloshing beer.
“Longer with my girl yakking your ear off.” He laced his hands over his stomach, casting a baiting glance at Kyle, probably gauging his reaction.
Kyle kept his expression parked in neutral as Pete continued.
“Takes after me that way. It’s like the confined space forces out every thought that pops into our heads, one after the other.”
Nope, Kyle decided with a side-eye at Isaac’s bland contemplating the horizon stare. The brothers hadn’t said anything to their parents, not unless Pete was heading toward receiving an Oscar nomination.
“She kept the conversation interesting.” Droplets of condensation soaked his fingertips and he twisted the bottle in his hands. “Sir, the reason why we’re here—” he said with a total lack of brain-to-tongue editing. Address the issue head on and deal with her father’s fury while Tui was safely out of range was the driving force behind it.
“Drop the sir, willya? It’s Pete.”
“Okay. Pete—”
“The boys have already told me why you’re
all here.” Pete waved his hand dismissively at him, while Kyle’s beat-per-minute heart rate tripled. “This horse trekking idea you’ve put to them.”
Sam, who must’ve translated the widening of Kyle’s eyes correctly, smirked.
“Right.”
The agreement fell numbly off his tongue, blood still thundering against his eardrums. He cleared his throat, struggling to gather his thoughts and focus on one thing at a time. Movement from inside the house caught his attention, and Tui stepped through the French doors, carrying a stack of plates. Her gaze shot to his with an upward twitch of her eyebrow.
“What do you think of it, Dad?” she asked, setting the plates on the coffee table.
Before Pete could answer, Ariana Ngata bustled out onto the deck, laden with a platter of steaming food. “He’s not too keen, but I think we could make a go of it with a little tolerance from everyone involved. I’ll work on him.”
She set down the platter, smacked the back of Sam’s hand when he reached for a sausage roll, and turned to Kyle.
“Kia ora,” she said.
Her dark brown gaze, so much like Tui’s that they were unmistakably mother and daughter, was sharp but not altogether unfriendly. Prove yourself, her stare seemed to say as she gave him a quick once-over.
“Kia ora,” he replied, trying to make the Māori greeting, which was used by Māori and non-Māori in New Zealand, sound as casual as possible. He stood awkwardly and offered her his hand. Ariana ignored it and, gripping both arms, rose to plant a swift kiss on his cheek.
A shocked silence spread from one Ngata male to the next. Ariana spun to glare when her youngest son muttered a four-letter word. “Enough of that. This is how we show hospitality to guests in this whānau.”
“Ari—” Pete began.
She went hands on hips and rose to her full height of somewhere around five feet five. “Kyle is Tui’s guest and she speaks highly of him. You’ll trust your daughter is a good judge of character and behave as such. We’ll eat first, talk business later.”
Tame Your Heart: A Small Town Romance (Bounty Bay Book 6) Page 20