Kyle’s turn to twitch his eyebrows up at Tui, who’d frozen by the sofa, looking like a possum caught in the middle of the road with a logging truck bearing down on one side and a petrol tanker on the other.
She spoke highly of him? If he hadn’t had three big men shooting him covert filthy looks, he’d have worn an ear-to-ear smile.
Ariana returned to the house for more food then passed out plates and paper napkins, ordering them to eat while the food was still hot. Grateful for the distraction, Kyle loaded up his plate and tried to blend chameleon-like into his Adirondack chair. Tui only nibbled at her food, and from her mother’s frowning glances, Kyle guessed this wasn’t her normal behavior at mealtimes.
As he ate, he studied the dynamics among the Ngata family. They teased and ragged on each other, and there was a lot of laughter at each other’s expense. But it was good-natured laughter, borne of a close-knit group of individuals who were genuinely liked and respected for who they were.
It was completely foreign to him.
And as much as it embarrassed him as a man to say it, the little boy inside him ached to be a part of that sort of family. His experiences of family get-togethers were few and driven by undercurrents he hadn’t understood. Most of his young life had revolved around boarding school, and the desperate homesickness he’d suffered in the beginning faded as school life became a substitute for family life. A poor substitute in some ways, but predictable and dependable at least.
The summers he and his brothers spent in Bounty Bay felt more and more like unpaid labor, not any kind of reunion where their parents would actually spend quality time with them. There were few shared meals—and when they did manage to sit down together arguments would often erupt out of nowhere—and mostly he and his brothers had just grabbed food on the run.
Ariana had drawn him into the conversation by asking questions about his work in Auckland, and both Pete and an initially unwilling Sam had entered into a discussion of the benefits of solar heating. Just when he thought the bristling testosterone level had evened out among the four of them, with Kyle’s suggestion approved that he come round to the main house to see if solar heating would be worthwhile looking at for Pete and Ariana’s place, Tui cleared her throat.
“I’ve got something to tell you guys.” She sat cross-legged on a giant cushion she’d dragged onto the deck from the living room, her hands resting on her knees. Resting wasn’t the right word, though; more like fingers digging into her kneecaps like steel pincers. “Something important.”
Her brothers immediately stopped talking and their gazes flicked from her to him and back again, both men sitting up straighter in their seats. Pete and Ariana took a few beats longer, as they were in the middle of an animated discussion of whether roast pork or lamb or turkey should be served for Christmas dinner, but one look at Tui’s white-knuckled grip on her knees had frown lines deepening on her mother’s forehead.
She half rose out of her seat. “What’s happened? What’s wrong? Are you sick, baby?”
“No, Ma. Nothing’s wrong, I’m not sick—”
“Are you sure?” Ariana hurried over to lay a palm on Tui’s forehead. “Because you only had one sausage roll—one! I know they’re your favorite, and you didn’t even touch the nice Pinot Dad got from that winery we stopped at the other day. Has Isaac been giving you a hard time about how much wine you drink?” She sent her oldest a stern glance. “Pot calling the kettle black, son.”
“Nothing like that.” Tui plucked her mother’s hand from her forehead but didn’t release it. “Ma, I’m fine.” Her voice cracked a little and Ariana’s eyes widened, as if she’d somehow intuited what was coming next. “I’m pregnant. That’s what I wanted to tell you all.”
Chapter 16
“Well, hell, girl,” her dad said. “Why’d you wait so long to tell us?” He beamed at Tui as if Christmas morning had just arrived. “Another little mokopuna, ya hear that, Ari?”
Tui’s heart dropped another ten stories into the pit of her stomach. Telling her parents she was pregnant was the easy part—they’d love and accept her no matter what path her life took. But telling them she still hadn’t decided if motherhood was in her future or who her baby daddy was…not so easy. And her dad apparently had no clue who was the XY-chromosome contributor to this baby.
Nothing impeded her mother’s on-the-spot assessment, though, not after raising three headstrong kids who often tried and failed to put one over on her. Tui saw the moment her Ma’s gaze flicked to Kyle and the cogs turning in her brain as she figured out why the oldest Griffin had arrived with her daughter that morning.
Her dad wasn’t quite as quick, but his smile soon faded.
“Don’t recall you telling us you had a boyfriend.” His forehead furrowed. “If that’s what you call it these days.”
“I don’t, well, not really.”
Being on the wrong side of thirty with a bun in the oven made the term boyfriend seem juvenile. A boyfriend was someone you went on dates with. Someone you’d forward funny cat videos to and edit your day when telling him about it so as not to bore him to death. A boyfriend didn’t get to see you when you were ugly crying over a movie or take care of you when food poisoning had you groveling into a toilet bowl. They sure as hell weren’t meant to handle an accidental pregnancy maturely—there was a reason the word contained boy instead of man.
“Does he know he’s going to be a father?”
Somehow she fought off the urge to side-eye Kyle’s reaction. “He knows.”
Her knees were starting to ache from the incessant grip of her fingers. She swallowed hard, catching her Ma’s eye. The fact that Ma wasn’t interrupting told Tui she was more upset than her stoic expression showed.
With a harrumph, Pete sat back in his seat and folded his arms. He seemed to have forgotten Kyle was even there. “What sort of man doesn’t come with his lady to talk to her family?”
“Pete—sir—” Kyle stood and came to stand beside her.
Her dad tracked Kyle’s movements with a deepening frown. “Sit down. This is family business that never should’ve been bought up in front of you.”
He glanced at Kyle, then back down to Tui…then up again, his gaze turning flinty.
“You?” he demanded incredulously. “You’re the father?”
“Yes, sir.” Kyle kept his tone steady. He didn’t touch her—wise man—but she felt the solidarity of his nearness.
“And this…” Pete waved his hand to encompass both of them. “This is consensual?”
“God—Dad.” Sam interrupted on her behalf. “Do you think Tui wouldn’t have ripped his balls off if it wasn’t?”
Her dad grunted and continued a visual battle of wills with Kyle.
Ma walked behind the couch and squeezed her husband’s shoulders. “Simmer down, love. Your daughter’s not a careless sixteen-year-old who’s gotten herself in trouble. She’s a grown woman. We’ll respect her good judgment to figure out what’s best to do.” She sent Tui a young lady, we’ll be having a long kōrero later look.
Tui dropped her gaze to the worn wooden decking. Careless sixteen-year-old who’s gotten herself in trouble. As a teenager and in her twenties it’d been her greatest fear. But the heart of that fear wasn’t the actual baby or the lifelong responsibility of caring for a child. It was her perceived stigma of single motherhood and letting down her family.
The Ngata siblings were always at the top of their game. Isaac, a former elite sportsman. Sam, the creative wood artist who’d carved out a successful business. And her…Tui, who’d showed so much academic potential at school. Who could’ve studied medicine or law but self-sabotaged her chances because she’d never felt good enough compared to her brothers. She had no God-given talent, no drive like they had to be the best in their field of expertise, because she had no expertise.
The only things she’s got going for her, poor thing, are her looks and her child-bearing hips.
Careless. Tui blinked back sudden tea
rs. She was a grown woman, but she’d been careless—she and Kyle had both been careless—and now they were trapped in a situation neither of them wanted to be in.
Really, she was the only one trapped. Kyle could walk away, but she was connected to the child growing inside her in a way he could never be. Tied to it with more than just an umbilical cord. And she felt as if that cord were wrapping around her insides, squeezing the breath from her lungs.
She stumbled to her feet, instinctively grabbing Kyle’s forearm when her legs wobbled under her. The sun-warmed skin under her fingertips felt like hot coals and she jerked her hand away, her fingers tightened into fists, nails digging into the soft flesh of her palms.
“This conversation is over. I’m leaving.”
Her dad’s frown deepened. “Sit down.”
“I won’t. You’re looking at me as if I’m carrying the devil’s spawn.”
“Tui!” Her ma shot a glance at Kyle, a flush rising on her cheeks. “That’s a dreadful thing to say about your unborn baby.”
Ignoring the eruption of her brothers and mother all weighing in at the same time, Tui couldn’t drag her gaze away from her dad. His stare—more intense even than her oldest brother when confronting the opposing team on a rugby field—bore straight down to her soul.
He rose silently out of his chair and turned to collect his cane. “She’s right. Go, then,” he said and walked back into the house.
Strength bled out of her and she swayed, coming to rest against a wall of solid muscle directly behind her. “Are you sure you want to go?” Kyle asked her quietly.
“Yes.” She couldn’t even look at her remaining family. She just needed to get away.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Ngata.” Kyle wrapped his arm around her waist. “I’m going to drive Tui home now.”
With the almost psychic bond mothers and daughters seem to share, Ariana kept her distance, somehow knowing that any physical affection would cause Tui to fall to pieces.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” her ma said as Kyle guided Tui off the deck and into his SUV.
To avoid talking about the obvious suckiness of the situation, Tui shut her eyes and kept her face turned toward the side window. She had to give Kyle points for driving without prodding her into conversation she didn’t want. She must’ve dozed off, because she jerked abruptly into consciousness as the vehicle came to a complete stop. She blinked, momentarily disoriented and confused by the glitter of bright sunlight on water reflecting through the windscreen.
This wasn’t home.
Sitting up straighter, she took in the vista of an enormous brick house to her left and a bluey-green lake spread out in front of the SUV. She flicked Kyle a side-eye. “Where are we?”
“A friend and former client’s house.”
The side-eye turned into slitted eyes. “I don’t feel like socializing.”
“I’m aware of that. Claire and her husband are away until next week. I called them to see if we could spend a night here on the way back. Kind of a time-out.”
Time-out? What was she, a spoiled and tantrum-throwing child?
Something of her inner thoughts must’ve shown on her face as Kyle reached across the car to peel her white-knuckled grip off the seat belt crossing her chest.
“Can we just spend some time together? Just you, me, and a hot tub under the stars.” He gave her a lopsided smile.
She weakened—as he knew damn well she would. He could’ve offered her a night in a cardboard box under an overpass and she would’ve said yes…if he’d come with the package deal.
“All right.” She refused to tremble under the warmth of his hand, so instead she shrugged with studied indifference and directed her glance toward the house. “A client’s house, you say? Did you design it?”
“I did.” He released her hand and unclipped his seat belt.
She followed him out of the vehicle, meeting him on the paved driveway leading to the house. They strolled up to the imposing behemoth of a house and Kyle keyed in a code to unlock the front door.
“Wow,” she whispered as he opened the door into an airy entrance space. The two wings of the house were connected by a conservatory, and sunshine streamed through the large windows, dappling the stone floor.
“The house is made from adobe earth brick and timber,” he said, “with natural rock walls and a grass-sod roof. Claire wanted to create a home that would complement the natural environment around it.”
Tui entered the house, toed off her flip-flops, and crossed the cool paving tiles to the view over a large wooden deck. In the distance whirred blades of what appeared to be a windmill. “Wind power?”
He joined her. “Uh-huh. They’ve got a wind turbine and also solar panels for power as they’re off the national electricity grid. Plus passive solar water heating, water tanks, and rainwater collection.”
She ran a hand down the textured plaster-covered wall. “It’s amazing. Did you watch them build it?”
“Watching is for wusses. I got in the thick of it, boots and all. It was one of the first adobe-constructed houses I designed, and I didn’t want to miss the party. It was messy, but a lot of fun.”
“If you like grubbing around in mud,” she said.
He laughed. “Didn’t you enjoy making mud pies as a kid?”
“I was pretty damn good at it, if I do say so myself. My signature dish was a fragrant mud and cow manure chocolate gateau.”
She found herself smiling up at him with what she would bet was the goofiest grin in the history of women making goofy grins at too-sexy-for-their-own-good men.
“Sounds delish.”
“Tell me about the process as you’re giving me the guided tour.”
Kyle began to talk about compressed earth and straw-bale construction and a whole bunch of other terms she didn’t understand. The passion and conviction in his voice more than made up for her lack of knowledge, and she found herself fascinated with the way his mind had solved design problems through sheer talent and hard work.
He took her hand as they walked, and her heart gave a girlish little cartwheel that made her wince. When had she become the kind of woman that went all gooey at the touch of a man’s fingers linked with hers?
Pregnancy hormones, she decided as they wandered from room to room. Anyone would think being reminded that she was carrying a baby would no longer send ripples of panic through her.
One would be wrong.
Even though panic over the inevitable was a waste of time now that the most important people in her life knew, Tui couldn’t stop one thought playing over and over in her head.
It wasn’t just a baby—her baby—it was Kyle’s baby, too.
And her previously figured-out sensible options had suddenly shrunk, because if Kyle was as passionate about this baby as he was building environmentally sound houses, it likely meant he’d no intention of bowing out of this child’s life graciously.
Which left her with some unpleasant decisions to make.
Tui couldn’t fault Kyle’s master plan to get her to relax. After the house tour they took a leisurely lakeside stroll where they kept to anti-inflammatory topics like politics and religion—far less nerve-racking than navigating the minefield of family relationships and breast versus bottle feeding.
He cooked them dinner, which they ate on the deck while watching the sun set smothered in pink-streaked clouds. Light fading, he disappeared inside and returned a short time afterward to tell her he’d run her a bath. Butterflies swarmed in her belly as he handed her a fluffy white towel outside the bathroom door. It was on the tip of her tongue to invite him in to bathe with her—she’d seen the size of the sunken bathtub earlier and almost drooled in anticipation—when he cupped her face and gave her a brief but lingering kiss.
“Go and unwind before the water gets cold,” he ordered. “I’ll clear up out here.”
He left her, bare feet whispering over the tiles as he walked away. She watched him go, studying the strong line
s of his shoulders, the slight swagger to his walk as if he still had a tool belt slung around his hips—he’d told her earlier that he’d worked part-time as a laborer to put himself through university.
She narrowed her eyes at his retreating back. He had to, absolutely had to be too good to be true. The good-guy act must be a ploy to make her let her guard down, but dammit, it was working.
She slipped into the bathroom, warred a brief but ultimately futile debate with herself, and left the door unlocked. She stripped, shivering as the cooler air brushed over her bare skin. Easing a foot into the bath—hot, hot, hot—she glanced over her shoulder at the sounds of their dinner plates rattling together from somewhere deep in the house. He really was clearing up. She worked her way inch by inch into the water, allowing the heat to settle into her bones and melt the tension wiring them stiffly together. Closing her eyes, she tracked his movements through the house by the muted sounds of glassware and the eventual purr of a dishwasher starting up.
A man who cooked, cleaned, and ran her a bath without being asked. Was he for real? Yeah, right. Tui grimaced. That’d last about as long as his interest in getting laid. Guys always stepped up their game in the beginning, but as the novelty of a new conquest waned, so did their commitment to picking up their dirty sports socks or taking a turn at meal prep.
She snorted, water rippling away from her chin. Listen to her—she sounded as cynical as Petra. Which was insane because her parents modeled a partnership based on mutual respect and equal shares of responsibility. Yet that kind of relationship, rich and strong and vital, had always eluded her. Always secretly terrified her that she’d never find it, never be capable of maintaining it without screwing it up if she did stumble into it by accident.
Like the accident which promised Kyle would always be in her life, one way or another. Maybe on the sidelines, maybe in the forefront. And what would the forefront look like? Moving to Auckland, living in his house, sharing child-rearing responsibilities while leading separate lives?
Tame Your Heart: A Small Town Romance (Bounty Bay Book 6) Page 21