by Shirley Jump
“Sure. And indulge in some adult beverages and conversation?”
“That sounds perfect.”
He carried the remains of the pizza and the package of wine coolers out to the small balcony. Two nights ago, they had sat here in roughly the same situation. Except the dark and quiet night seemed ten times more intimate, with that kiss they’d shared hovering in the air, unspoken.
“Thank you for watching her today,” Peyton said.
“My pleasure. And I mean that. Maddy’s a great kid. You and Susannah did a wonderful job with her.”
Peyton nodded and took a sip of her wine cooler. “Thank you.”
They were quiet for a few minutes, sipping their drinks and listening to the sounds of the birds and insects settling in for the night. Luke twirled the bottle between his palms. “What kind of mother was Susannah?”
Peyton searched for the right words, the ones that would color the truth, shade it in a light that didn’t make Susannah look bad. But the truth was, her sister had been a distracted, self-centered mother, one who rarely put her daughter ahead of partying and sleeping. “Susannah tried, but...” Peyton shrugged. “She was never really there. She loved Maddy, of course, but she was more of a friend than a parent.”
“Maybe Susannah didn’t feel ready,” Luke said. His gaze went to something far beyond the hotel. “Or maybe she just was afraid of letting Maddy down. Screwing it up.”
“Everybody’s afraid of that when they have a child,” Peyton said. “The first time I watched Maddy on my own, I was convinced I was going to drop her on her head or forget to feed her. But you figure it out and you do your best.” She took a sip of wine cooler. “And read every book you can get your hands on.”
“That’s what I need.” He chuckled. “A book for dummy dads.”
“You’re doing great.”
“I’m trying. But there’s always that fear that...” His voice trailed off.
“That what?”
“That you won’t be there when it matters most.” His voice was soft, and she got the feeling he wasn’t talking about Madelyne.
“You do the best you can,” she said again, and laid a hand on his. The touch was easy, as if she’d held his hand a thousand times before. “And cut yourself some slack. You’re new at this.”
His blue eyes met hers, and his thumb closed over her fingers, changing the simple touch to one layered with connection. There was warmth there, and honesty, and something more, something the two of them kept dancing around. Something that pushed as much as it pulled, and as much as she knew she should move, should tug her hand away from his, she didn’t do either.
“I hope I can be even a tenth as amazing as you are with her, and that I can build a relationship with her like you have. I’m trying, but its slow going,” Luke said. “I’ve seen you with Maddy. You might as well be her mother. She’s so close to you.”
Another shrug. “I did what I had to do. I love her, and she’s all the family I have now.”
“But it should have been Susannah’s job. And mine.” He shook his head. “No wonder you were so angry with me. You probably resented me for not being involved, not helping out.”
“She really never told you she was pregnant?”
“She never did. Believe me, Peyton, if I had known I had a child, I would have been there. I might not always be the best role model or be the most responsible Barlow, but I’m not the kind of self-centered jerk who would abandon my own child.”
“I never said—”
“You didn’t have to.” He couldn’t have blamed her, really. He hadn’t exactly been Mr. Settle Down back when Peyton knew him. “It was all over your face when you showed up on my doorstep. I don’t blame you. I would have thought the same thing if the roles had been reversed.
“I’m sorry you had to be there, to be the parent that Maddy needed, when you should have been living your own life.”
“I didn’t mind,” Peyton said. But her voice trembled and her shoulders tensed.
Luke rose and came around in front of her. The narrow balcony put him inches away from her, and when he bent down to her level, he saw the tears in Peyton’s eyes. They brimmed, but didn’t fall, threatening to undo the careful control she held over her emotions. “I’m sorry,” he said, softer again this time.
Then he raised his hand and caught a tear on the edge of his finger.
“It’s okay,” she said, but the last word whispered away when a second tear fell.
Luke cupped her jaw and met her gaze. “I’m sorry, Peyton. And I swear, you won’t be alone in this going forward.”
Her shoulders relaxed, and a third and fourth tear fell. But still she refused to yield to the emotions, to let them win. “It will be nice for Maddy to have you in her life. But truly, I have it under control—”
“Oh, honey, you don’t. But that’s totally okay.”
It was the honey that did her in. Luke was blurry in her vision, but he was there, his hand against her cheek, solid and firm, and dependable. All the things she had sworn he could never be. And when he leaned in, she kissed him, because right at that moment, he’d become what she wanted, what she’d always wanted.
He hauled her against him, the kiss going from zero to sixty in a split second. His chest was solid, his touch was fire and she lost herself in his mouth, his hands. She tangled her fingers in his hair, and when he pulled her closer still, she straddled his lap and the two of them sank to the concrete floor.
His hand snaked under her shirt, sliding to the front to cup her breast through the lace of her bra. She gasped, her nipples puckered, desire erupted like a volcano. Between her legs, she could feel his growing erection, the promise there of a night she would never forget.
Oh, how she wanted that, wanted him, but there were three of them here, the third one asleep in the room just behind them. Maddy was why she was here in Stone Gap. Why she was returning to Baltimore at the end of the two weeks.
And on top of that, this was Susannah’s boyfriend. Granted, that was years in the past, and Susannah was gone now, but the thought still put some brakes on the moment. Peyton pulled away from Luke and laid her head on his chest. His heart thudded beneath her cheek. “We can’t do this. Not now. Not here.”
“You’re right. I wish you weren’t, but you are.”
“Plus, it’s a little weird. I mean, you used to date my sister.”
“I know what you mean. But I don’t see you the way I did back then.”
“I’m not the annoying nerdy little sister anymore?”
“Not at all.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Not at all. And even though Susannah and I dated, and well...” He looked toward the bedroom where Maddy slept, then turned back to Peyton. “We were never serious. I never felt like this with her.”
Like what? Peyton wanted to ask, but if she did, she knew she’d be opening a door to a path she wasn’t sure she wanted to take.
He wrapped one arm around her. “Let’s just sit here, like this, for a while. At least until I forget what I want to do to you.”
She laughed, a chuckle that came from somewhere deep inside her, the kind of throaty laugh that was half flirt, half desire. Doesn’t that side of you still exist, somewhere under the buttons and schedules? Maybe it did, because every time she was with Luke, another side of Peyton came to life. “Me, too.”
“Sometime,” he said, dropping another kiss on her lips, “you’ll have to tell me what exactly it is that you want to do to me.”
Sometime meant in the future. Sometime meant seeing him again, not because he wanted to be with Maddy, but because he wanted to be with Peyton. Sometime implied...more.
“Sometime I will,” Peyton said, making a promise a part of her had made years and years ago. A promise she wasn’t sure she could keep, but right now, she didn’t want to think about that.
“I’ll hold you to that, Peyton Reynolds.” Then he sat back and they stared up at the stars. The conversation shifted to Orion and Scorpio, to th
e Big Dipper and the Little Dipper. She listened to his heartbeat while he spoke, and soaked up the warm night air, because tomorrow she would go back to focusing on her job and Maddy, and the reality that her life was far away in Maryland, and not here in Stone Gap on a concrete balcony under the stars.
* * *
On Wednesday morning, Luke headed into the garage early. There was a full schedule on tap today, and the earlier he got in to work, the earlier he could leave and the sooner he could see Peyton and Maddy again. Ever since Peyton’s return, Luke’s thoughts had revolved around two things—his daughter and the woman he had never noticed until now. Both added layers of complications and expectations to his life, two things he wasn’t so sure he was ready for.
Even though his time with Maddy yesterday had gone well, the truth was he was upset that he’d needed to call his mother for help. He still worried about screwing up, about letting his daughter down, of doing what he had done four years ago.
Hurting someone he cared about.
Luke parked in the lot beside the garage. Two blocks down the street, where the business end of Main Street stopped with Sadie’s Clip ’n Curl and the residential world began, Luke saw a familiar front porch. He wondered if the ratty old couch, missing the brown plaid fabric off one arm and held up by a chunk of concrete block to replace a missing leg, was still there. One hot summer, Luke, Ben and Jeremiah had seen the sofa on the side of the road, set out for the next day’s trash pickup, probably after being replaced by a fancy leather recliner version. The three of them had hauled it down the street and up onto Jeremiah’s front porch, partly because his house was the closest, and partly because Jeremiah’s house was the destination they all flocked to after school. He had a good view of Main Street, a short walk to the ice cream parlor, and best of all, he lived next door to the Wallace twins, who often lay out in bikinis on the front lawn.
Luke hadn’t sat on that sofa in years. After the accident—
Well, after that, a hell of a lot of things had changed.
Instead of walking down the street and seeing if the sofa was still there—if the past that had died years ago could be resurrected—Luke ducked into the dim interior of the garage. His father was already there, par for the course with Bobby Barlow, who’d spent almost every day of his adult life in this garage. All of Luke’s memories of his father came wrapped in the smell of motor oil, and even now, whenever he inhaled the heavy, viscous scent, he thought of fishing trips with his father or long talks in the backyard while they tossed a ball. That was how a conversation with his dad worked—there was no sitting down at a table and pouring your heart out. There was tossing a ball or casting a line and letting the words fill the space between.
“Hey, Dad.” Luke hung his car keys on the hook by the office door and grabbed a pale blue work shirt from the back of the chair, tugging it on and buttoning it up as he walked.
“Luke. Good to see you.” His father poked his head out from under the hood of a Jeep that had seen better days. Bobby Barlow was a solid man, square in the shoulders, broad in the chest. The kind of man people called stout. Della had been trying for years to get Bobby to lose a few pounds, something his doctor harped on as much as his wife, but Bobby still sneaked out for a double cheeseburger at lunch or a beer at the end of the day. “Hand me that socket wrench, will you?”
Luke did as his father asked, then slipped into place beside Bobby, propping his hands on the metal frame and peering into the morass of wires and hoses snaking through the engine. The two of them talked about the problems the Jeep was having for a while, the male Barlow version of small talk.
“So your mother tells me you’ve got a daughter,” Bobby said, as he bent down into the engine to tighten something.
“Didn’t know I had a daughter until this week,” Luke said. “Susannah never said a word.”
Bobby put up a hand, which Luke filled with the new fan belt Bobby was installing. “So now you know. What are you going to do about it?”
“I’m still getting used to the idea, Dad. I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
Bobby straightened and reached for a rag for his hands. “If there’s one thing having kids forces you to do, it’s look ahead. From the minute Mac was born, that’s all I’ve done is worry about the future. How to feed you guys, keep you in shoes and sports, and keep you from making stupid decisions that could hurt you. That don’t stop when your kids are grown, you know. You still worry about them making the right decisions, and staying fed and clothed and warm.”
Luke chuckled. “I’m doing fine, Dad. Roof over my head, and beer in my fridge.”
“Yup, and I’m glad for that, but now that you’re a father, you need more.”
In that unspoken language of working together, Luke went around to the driver’s side of the Jeep and waited for his father’s nod before starting the engine. The engine hesitated a half second, then turned over, running smooth and easy. Luke turned it off, then dropped the keys into his father’s palm. “I know. I need college savings plans and—”
“I’m not talking about that stuff. You’ll always need that. What kids really need is love and attention. They need you to be there, to be the one they can depend on. Day after day, whether you’re having a bad day or you just need a vacation or your damned knee is giving out.” Bobby winced and gave his right knee a rub.
Worry spiked in Luke’s chest. His father looked a little paler, a little older today. “Go sit down, Dad.”
“I sit down, I might as well lie down in a coffin. I got stuff to do, Luke. Did you see the lot? There’s five cars out there, all rush jobs for today.”
“You need to get that other knee replaced. Call the doctor, schedule the operation.”
“I can’t afford the time off. Last one had me out for three weeks, then six weeks of rehab after that, slowing me down. I need to keep the doors open, keep food on the table. The knee can wait.”
The unspoken question that had hung around all the conversations with his dad for the past year was when Luke was going to step into his father’s shoes and make the garage a full-time job. For years, Luke had resisted. Left the garage altogether for a couple of years, bouncing between jobs, trying to find where he fit. Jack had stepped in during Dad’s last surgery, then left to begin his carpentry business when Bobby returned.
Luke had tried a hundred different jobs, but in the end, he always came back here, to the smell of motor oil and the place that felt more like his childhood than any other in Stone Gap. He had to admit he liked the heft of a tool in his hands, the sweet rush of success when a long-dead engine finally roared to life. He liked knowing his job made a difference in someone’s life. Helped them get to work or drive their kids to school or visit grandma in the hospital.
He liked that. A lot.
Luke moved the Jeep out of the bay, switching it for a pickup truck with a sticky throttle. When he climbed out of the truck’s cab, his father was already reaching for the hood. Luke put a hand on Bobby’s. “Go home, Dad. I’ve got this.”
“I’m fine. I’ll just take a couple aspirin—”
“No, you won’t. You’ll go home, call your doctor and schedule your appointment. And you’ll stay at home and recover until you’re 100 percent. You won’t worry about this garage or about anything to do with it, because I’m going to be here, every day.” Luke leaned against the counter and thought it was past time. Time to leap into the future, time to position his future so he could pay for college educations and shoes and pizzas with little bits of chicken. “I want you to think about retiring.”
“Retiring?” Bobby scoffed. “To do what? Sit around on the couch and watch reruns of Oprah?”
“Take Mama on a trip. Go to Italy or Greece or, hell, Savannah. You two have worked hard, and you deserve to spend the next forty years doing what you want to do, not what you have to do.”
Bobby draped an arm over his middle son’s shoulders. “Listen, don’t feel like you have to take this over. I’ll be fine. I
just need a little rest and some aspirin.”
“I don’t have to take this over, Dad. I want to. I want...” His gaze traveled around the garage, over the tool chests that had once towered over Luke as a little boy, past the benches filled with parts and handprints and memories, past the office door that separated the boys from their dad’s not-so-secret candy stash in his desk drawer. Luke had grown up here, in more ways than one, and now, he realized, he was ready to make that final leap. “I want to be all the things I need to be for my daughter. Dependable. Strong. Responsible.”
Bobby’s eyes softened and a smile warmed his face. “You’re growing up.”
“Took me a while.” Luke shrugged. “But I’m trying.”
Bobby gave his son’s shoulders a squeeze. “I’m proud of you. And speaking of growing up, I want to meet this granddaughter of mine before she’s heading off to college.”
“You will. I promise. I don’t know how I’m going to work this out in the future, with Peyton living in Maryland and me living here, but I’ll think of something.”
“Marry her.” Bobby grinned. “That would solve everything.”
Luke laughed, but it was a comfortable laugh, one that said maybe he was easing into more changes than he realized. “One big step at a time, Dad. Let’s start with the garage. That’s a commitment I can handle.”
Chapter Nine
Peyton rose before dawn and spent the early part of the morning sending some emails back and forth with Catherine about the design. As soon as elements were approved by the client, Peyton started the ordering process, and scheduling the contractors. It felt good to get work done, to be back in the game. She copied her boss on the progress of the job and got a you rock email in response. Finally, her career was getting back on track, and the promotion she had worked so hard for seemed to be in reach again.