Barefoot Bay_Double Trouble

by Silver James

  “I was…it was almost my due date. Cezar, he took me to the doctor. I was in an exam room at the clinic. Cezar always waited in the hall. This time, though, I was in a room I hadn’t been in before. There was an unlocked door hidden behind a screen. I sneaked out. Ran. I didn’t have much money. I didn’t have any clothes but what I was wearing. I didn’t have anything but the babies who hadn’t been born yet.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek and Nick couldn’t help himself. He approached her, carefully, and stretched out a finger to brush it away. “Aww, baby, c’mere.” He opened his arms, and surprisingly, Peni fell into them. She felt as good pressed against him as he thought she might, but at the moment, his libido was on good behavior. Her stomach chose that moment to grumble and his answered.

  “When was the last time you ate?”

  She made no move to disengage but she did manage a lift of one shoulder in reply. “Yesterday? I don’t have much money and the babies needed diapers and formula. My…” She glanced down at her chest but didn’t finish her statement.

  Nick didn’t blush, but only because his olive skin tone didn’t lend itself to the action. His voice sounded a little jagged when he spoke. “You need to eat more.” He knew nothing about pregnancy, babies, or breastfeeding but obviously some tidbit had lodged in his brain. Her story had spilled out, the words tumbling over each other as her lurking panic tossed boulders into the flood of her tale. It was ingrained in his nature to be protective and this woman pushed every last one of those buttons. “Come. Sit down. I’ll fix you something to eat.”

  That got her attention. She leaned back against his arms and tilted her face up to watch him. “You cook?”

  Nick chuckled and winked. “I’m Greek. We drink. We dance. We eat. Our women cook. I’m single. I had to learn to cook if I wanted to eat. Come. Sit. I’ll see what Uncle Nino and Poppy left us in the fridge.”

  “Ah. In other words, you are proficient in the care and feeding of a microwave.”

  Chapter 3

  PENI’S WRY TONE of voice had Nick chortling. She’d clued into exactly what he’d planned on doing and somehow found the nerve to tease him about it, which startled her. She tended toward shyness with strangers. She pushed back against the cage of his arms and he loosened his embrace enough for her to slip free. She did so reluctantly. This man was nothing like Cezar, despite their similarity of appearance. Oh, both were undoubtedly dangerous, but this man had laughter in his eyes. And something else. Something she couldn’t define.

  Watching him prowl to the refrigerator made her hungry for things other than food. The direction of her thoughts frightened her. Before her father presented her to Mr. Vasile, before she’d been taken to that cold, clinical place… She hid her shaking hands in the folds of her dress. She’d been a virgin and had little personal experience with men and the things they did with women. Her girlfriends had bragged, and she read romance novels where no one could catch her, but she didn’t quite understand the feelings welling up inside her.

  Looking at him made her achy low in her body and when she’d been in his arms, she felt…safe. She’d wanted him to kiss her. And that worried her. She could depend on no one. Only herself. Peni had to remember that fact every moment of every day. She was the only one who truly loved her babies, who would do whatever it took to keep them safe and out of the hands of a madman.

  “Italian or…” Nick read a note stuck to a plastic-covered glass bowl. “Jamaican?”

  She jerked her attention back to him. Nick. Nicholas. Who was Greek. And so handsome he took her breath way with his thick, dark hair, and—she blinked. Were his eyes brown or green? She tilted her head, considering. Hazel. Isn’t that what her college roommate called that color? Peni liked them, liked the way they crinkled at the corners when he smiled at her.

  “Peni?”

  And his mouth. Yes, she liked his mouth too. It was full and most likely very kissable and at the moment, it was quirked into the sexiest of grins. He looked like the romantic male lead in a movie.

  “Sweetheart, you keep staring at me like I’m gonna be dessert, we won’t make it through dinner.”

  “Oh!” Heat flashed through her body and she dropped her eyes. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to stare.” Much! “I’m happy to eat whatever you decide.” Warmth suffused her cheeks as his low, sexy chuckle did funny things to her pulse and she read things into his expression—things she wasn’t sure she was ready to acknowledge.

  The insides of his cheeks were all but bloody as Nick chewed them to keep from blurting out, “Greek! You can eat Greek!” He had to clear his throat before he managed to say, “Italian then.”

  He popped the top on a covered dish with a Post-it Note. “Gravy.” He prowled deeper into the fridge but found no pasta. “Or maybe not.” Nick checked the cabinets. Nothing. An unmarked bowl in the fridge caught his eye. Stripping off the top, he smiled. “Ravioli. Homemade. I can handle this.”

  Putting water on to boil, he found fresh tomatoes, mozzarella cheese, and fresh-picked basil leaves in two of the refrigerator’s specialty drawers. Two bottles sat on the countertop—olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Rather than stick Uncle Nino’s gravy into the microwave, Dom emptied the bowl into a saucepan and set it to simmer.

  “We got lucky. I’ve heard that Uncle Nino’s gravy is amazing.”

  Peni, from her perch on one of the tall bar stools, crinkled her brow in confusion. “Gravy? Is that not something people put on meat? And potatoes?”

  Nick winked at her. “If you’re American. There’s brown gravy for beef and cream gravy for chicken, potatoes, and biscuits. There’s red-eye gravy for ham. And probably some I haven’t heard of, but if you’re Italian, gravy is the sauce you put on pasta. And Nino Rossi is famous for his.”

  He checked the large pot and found the water boiling so he carefully dropped in the ravioli before he glanced at Peni. She’d propped her chin in her hand and watched him, bemused.

  “You truly can cook?”

  Laughing deeply, he nodded and sliced tomatoes then the cheese. “I’m Greek, remember? I am a manly man who likes to eat so I got my yiayia—” He glanced in her direction. “My grandmother to teach me even though I had to listen to her bitch about finding a good woman to marry so my wife could cook and take care of me. I learned my first lesson about dealing with Greek women from my dad. I just nodded and said, ‘Yes, yiayia. You’re right, yiayia, but how do I make the baklava?’”

  As he’d hoped, she smiled. He busied himself with draining the ravioli and arranging the Caprese salad, but asked without looking at her, “Do you cook?”

  “Not really. Only the basics. My mother died when I was small. My father and I immigrated a few years later.” A smile teased the corner of her mouth. “My father…he made wonderful peanut butter sandwiches. He grilled them.” Her voice roughened and she cleared her throat.

  Nick studied her for a long moment then mentally shrugged. It was a question he had to ask. “Why didn’t he help you?”

  Her laughter held a brittle edge. “He’s the reason I’m in this situation.”

  Nick could almost smell the melancholic bitterness wafting off her. He stilled, something inside him twisting up all hot and angry at her words. He breathed through the sensation before calmly asking, “Want to talk about it?”

  While waiting for her reply, he slid the salad onto the breakfast bar and drizzled olive oil with a few shakes of the balsamic vinegar to top it off.

  “He borrowed money from the wrong man—a man who wanted a virgin to bear his son.” She all but growled the words.

  “Were you raped?” Nick had turned to the stove and now had a white-knuckled grip on the gravy pan. The question was gritted out from between clenched teeth.

  “No. Not like you mean. I was taken to a clinic, examined. Then they harvested my eggs. The insemination was in vitro. I have babies but have never had…” She swallowed hard, her color rising when she finished. “Sex.” Peni offered a wan smile and added, �
�Sort of sucks, right?”

  Nick had no fucking idea of what to say to that. Or to any of what she’d explained. Her old man must be some piece of work. And Vasile? What an egomaniac. He served the ravioli in bowls and set the pot with the gravy on the bar for Peni to help herself. Uncle Nino had been very thorough, even leaving behind a block of hard Parmesan cheese and a grater.

  “I’m sorry, Peni.”

  She swallowed a bite of salad and shot him a timid glance before lowering her eyes to her plate. “It’s not your fault.” Spooning some ravioli into her mouth, she chewed. After she swallowed, she continued staring at her food while she spoke. “I wanted to help my father and there was to be money for me to go back to college.”

  “You thought you could give up the baby?” There was no censure in his tone, just curiosity. His only thoughts about kids, up until this moment, had been how to avoid having them.

  “Yes. I thought my son would be raised with every luxury. Mr. Vasile was—” She choked off the rest. Took another bite, chewed, swallowed then continued. “My father would be free of debt and I’d have my education. I thought I would eventually find a good man, fall in love, and have more babies.”

  “What happened to change your mind?” Nick saw, too late, the tears shimmering in her eyes. “Shh, Peni. It’s okay. Don’t cry, sweetheart.” He got up and went around the bar to her and folded her into his arms.

  “I lived at my father’s apartment, above his shop. My father worked hard but he…he missed my mother. He gambled. He didn’t speak much English. One day the man named Cezar showed up saying he worked for Mr. Vasile. He was like my shadow, always taking me to and from the clinic. One day, I heard their heartbeats. Then I saw them. On the sonogram. And they kicked. Theodor Vasile might be their sperm donor, but I am their mother.” Mother came out on a hiccupping sob. “Cezar was there when the sonogram showed twins—one boy, one girl. When he…When Mr. Vasile found out there were two babies, one a girl, he wanted me to abort Luiza.”

  Nick went rigid and sucked in air between clenched teeth, but he kept his hands gentle as he stroked his palms up and down her back in a soothing motion. He didn’t trust his voice so he remained silent. After a few deep breaths, Peni continued.

  “The doctor, he said that was too dangerous. That both babies might die. That’s when Mr. Vasile moved me into his house in Boston. I was never left alone and they locked me in my room at night. I wanted to keep both of my babies but Cezar told me that they would take Luiza away after the twins were born. Living there, I saw things. I saw what Mr. Vasile truly was. I didn’t know he was a monster until it was too late.”

  She brushed her cheek against his shirt and her fingers curled around his belt, as if she found an anchor for her emotions there. “I managed to get a prepaid credit card. One of those that could be reloaded. My college friend transferred some money to it. That’s how I bought a train ticket when I escaped.”

  She sounded stronger now but she made no move to push him away. Nick was grateful. He damn sure wasn’t ready to let her go. “How did you escape?”

  “As I said, I was almost to my due date. Cezar took me to the clinic for an exam. The hidden door opened to a private hallway for use by the medical staff. I found an exit door and ran. I got on the train and went to my friend’s house in Baltimore. Two days later, the babies were born. I…” She sighed. “I’m a terrible person.”

  “No you aren’t.”

  “I am,” she insisted. “As soon as I knew the twins were healthy, I made plans. The nurses at the hospital, they brought the babies to breastfeed. I got dressed and sneaked out with them. Without paying.”

  Peni worked her hands up from his belt and pressed her palms against his chest. With a little space between them, she tilted her head back to look at him. “I lied about my name. I had no money and I was worried he would find me, would take the babies because I couldn’t pay. He’s rich. He has lawyers and the police on his side. I have…nothing.” Her voice cracked and tears trickled down her cheeks. “No one.”

  Something happened in Nick’s chest—a tightness that burned like someone had laid a hot knife across his heart. “Not true, Peni. You have me. And Uncle Nino. Poppy. Even Gabe. We’ll see you safe, sweetheart, you and the twins.”

  She shook her head and pressed her lips together. What had possessed her to open up to this man—this stranger? What if this was all a set-up? Cezar was here, knew she was nearby. What if he hired these people? What if— She couldn’t breathe as panic clogged her throat.

  “Peni? Peni!” Nick shook her then cupped her cheek in a palm. “Breathe, baby. Breathe!” He fumbled in his pocket, withdrew a cell phone, started to dial.

  “No. No! Leave me alone. I have to go. I…you’re calling him!” She fought him now, raking her fingernails across his cheek. She flinched, hunching her body as she waited for his retaliatory blow to fall. It didn’t come as she found herself enveloped in strong arms.

  “Shh, baby. Shh. I was calling 9-1-1. Just breathe for me, okay? I won’t call if you breathe for me. We’ll get through this. I’ll help you. Whatever happens. Just breathe.”

  Before he could soothe her further, one of the babies began to wail. Her body immediately responded and she pushed away. Nick stepped back, let her slide past him though he followed her to the bedroom. He waited in the doorway as she gathered Luca to her shoulder, patting his back and making soothing noises. Luiza was also awake, big-eyed and ready to add her cries to her brother’s.

  Peni jostled Luca gently and patted Luiza. Both babies would be wet, and hungry. She glanced over her shoulder. She couldn’t run. Not yet. She needed to take care of the babies first.

  Nick cleared his throat. “I’ll save your food so you can finish once you get them settled. You didn’t eat enough, okay?”

  Heart pounding, she nodded. Calm. She needed to be calm for the babies. And she needed to be calm to plan, calm so this man didn’t know what she intended to do. She had to run again before Vasile or Cezar found her.

  Chapter 4

  NICK RETURNED to the kitchen, his thumbs flying over the text app on his phone. Peni’s story pissed him off. So did her panic. And damn but her cringing away like he was going to hit her topped off his outrage with a liberal helping of hot sauce. He’d never laid hands on a woman in anger and any man who did didn’t deserve to be called a man.

  He texted the information he’d gotten from her to Gabe, and added that he thought the girl might try to run again. He planned to stay awake but if she went out the bedroom window, he might not be able to catch her in time. Gabe needed to alert resort security. He was sure as hell positive that Vasile’s attack dog was skulking around. He might have lost track of her, but this Cezar dude would turn up sooner than later and he’d act. Nick just hoped it was much later—after he’d spirited Peni and the kids away from Barefoot Bay and had them stashed under new IDs in a place Vasile couldn’t touch them.

  Ten minutes later, Nick was sneaking up to the door and peeking through the crack. When he’d left, he’d intentionally left the door ajar so he could hear what was happening in the bedroom. One baby was fastened into a carrier thing while the other was still cradled to Peni’s chest. He knew he should look away but he couldn’t. He was fascinated. The expression on her face—the peace and the love—curled around his heart.

  Peni looked up, her gaze catching his, and he saw the shiver of fear run through her. He held his index finger to his mouth and nodded toward what he hoped was a sleeping baby. He should probably learn which one was which because checking for their plumbing to find out wasn’t in the cards.

  “Didn’t mean to disturb you, Peni.” He whispered his excuse, eyes on the baby in the carrier. “Just checking to see if you needed anything.”

  She shifted the blanket she’d tossed over her shoulder, preserving her modesty, as the baby at her breast finished. Peni hoisted the child to her shoulder and patted its back. A loud burp followed. She settled that baby into a matching carrier and c
lipped the safety straps together without speaking.

  “Come finish your dinner, Peni. I’ll reheat it.” Nick turned his back to give her privacy to button her dress.

  He was just placing her reheated ravioli on the breakfast bar when she entered, holding both carriers. “Need help?”

  She shook her head, adamant in her denial. She swung one up to the bar and then the other. Both babies were wide awake. The loud one was trying to rip off its baby socks off while the quiet one sucked a fist. They stared at him, and he found himself unnerved by their unblinking perusal.

  “Eat up, babe.” Nick took a bite of his own pasta to encourage her. She followed suit as he watched from the corner of his eye. Peni was nervous and she picked at her food for a few minutes before she began to eat with gusto. Good. She needed to put on some weight, according to Poppy, especially since she was essentially eating for three.

  “I hope the little dudes like garlic.”

  Peni’s head jerked up and she stared at him, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Excuse me?”

  Nick got flustered when he realized he’d spoken aloud and the import of his statement. Yeah, his brain had gone there—that what a mother ate got translated into flavored milk. He had no idea if that was true or not. “I…ah…shit.”

  His mortification elicited a little laugh. “Uncle Nino’s gravy is wonderful but not too spicy. Luca will probably enjoy it. Luiza? Maybe not.”

  “I guess that means wine is out of the question?”

  “Yes. As is caffeine. I miss caffeine especially. I’m a cappuccino kind of girl.”

  If he’d been standing, Nick would have shuffled his feet like a twelve-year-old called to the principal’s office for getting caught in the girls’ locker room. Instead, he bulldozed ahead. “Look, I don’t mean to be inappropriate or anything. I’m just…clueless. And probably a jerk but I seriously know nothing about kids. I was an only child in a big Greek family, but I did my very best to stay away from anything remotely resembling a little kid after I hit the age of eight.” He lifted his shoulders in a deprecating shrug. “Besides, the girl cousins usually got stuck with baby duty. And once I discovered girls I wasn’t related to, I spent the rest of my time making sure I didn’t make any babies with them, despite all the fun stuff going on.”