A Natural Father

by Sarah Mayberry

  Feeling every ounce of the extra weight she was carrying, she sat on her couch and tucked her legs beneath herself.

  As she’d told her sister, sometimes you simply had to have faith that things would work out. And that if they didn’t, that you could handle the consequences.

  She hoped her sister found more comfort in the concept than she did right now.

  * * *

  TWO WEEKS LATER, Dom approached the Bianco Brothers’ stand with a box full of sealed invitations under his arm. It was early, but the first pallets had already been moved across from the cold storage. Dom slid the box under the nearest trestle table and got to work. Half an hour later, his father arrived, his breath misting in the cold morning air. Even though they were well into August, spring seemed a long way off. Even longer when his father scowled at him by way of greeting.

  It had been like that between them since he’d told his father about his investment in Lucy’s business. His father was hurt, jealous, offended and probably a bunch of other things that Dom chose not to explore. He was not his father’s property or a household pet. His father had had the chutzpah to start his own business when he was still a very new immigrant to Australia. If he couldn’t understand Dom’s need to be involved and stimulated and challenged, then they were doomed to be this distant and cool toward each other for a very long time.

  “You have not given me the time sheets for last week,” Tony said hard on the heels of his scowl.

  Dom pulled the forms from his back pocket. His father never used to review this kind of paperwork, but he’d started asking for it four weeks ago—ever since Dom began doing Market Fresh’s deliveries each morning. That the business had not been affected by Dom’s absence for three hours every morning mattered not one iota to his father—with him, it was always the principle.

  “I was five hours down last week,” Dom reported. “You’ll see I’ve deducted it from my wages.”

  He’d been working extra hours at the beginning and end of each day to ensure Bianco Brothers’ wasn’t adversely affected by his involvement with Market Fresh, but it was impossible to make up all the time. He’d told his father when he’d first started doing the deliveries that he’d deduct any hours he lost, and he’d stuck to his word.

  His father squinted at the page briefly, then grunted. Dom hid a smile. Stubborn old bastard. Then he remembered something Lucy had told him while they were on deliveries last week—that it took two to tango and he was just as stubborn as his old man.

  Probably it was true. But acknowledging it didn’t mean he was going to do anything about it.

  At least things had eased between him and Lucy at last. It had been awkward at first, there was no doubt about it. They’d both been on their best behavior, wary of putting a foot wrong. But it was impossible to remain stiff when you were trapped in a small tin can with someone every day. By the end of the first week, they’d relaxed enough to squabble over where they stopped for lunch and whose music they’d listen to during deliveries. By the end of the second week, they’d been swapping childhood stories and family anecdotes.

  The fact that there might have been something else between them was almost forgotten. Almost.

  Dom was pulled out of his thoughts as his father kicked the box of envelopes he’d stored beneath the table earlier.

  “What is this?” his father asked.

  “Invitations. The Web site is ready to go, and Lucy and I are having a launch party at my place to showcase it to our clients,” he said.

  He stooped to pull the front envelope from the box. It was addressed to his parents. He offered it to his father.

  “We’d like you to come. It’ll be good for people to meet the man who supplies most of their produce.”

  His father stared at the envelope as though it was contaminated.

  “Why would I want to go?” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I not know anyone there. Is nothing to do with me.”

  Dom kept the invitation hanging in the air between them.

  “Then come for me, to see what we’ve been doing. You never know, you might get something out of it.”

  It was the wrong thing to say. His father’s heavy eyebrows came together and his jaw clenched.

  “There is nothing for me to get,” he said, then he walked away.

  Dom gritted his teeth and slid the invitation back into the box. So much for that great idea.

  “Yo! Bianco!”

  He glanced up just as a scarf hit him in the face. Lucy grinned at him from behind her trolley.

  “You left it in the van yesterday,” she said.

  “Thank you for returning it so promptly.”

  “Always my pleasure to be of assistance,” she said.

  Just as he did every day, he had to fight not to let his gaze drop to her body. She’d grown noticeably rounder in the past few weeks, but she was still beautiful and he still wanted her.

  Who was he kidding? He’d passed wanting a long time ago. He longed for her, and not just in a physical sense. The smell of her hair. The way she tilted her head when she smiled at him. The way her hands got busy when she was nervous, pleating her clothing or fiddling with paperwork. The sound of her laughter. The thoughtful look in her eyes when she was listening to him. The occasional spark of wickedness in her.

  She was…extraordinary.

  And he was wholeheartedly, tragically, hopelessly in love with her.

  Which just went to show what a masochist he was. She’d warned him off, told him she wasn’t prepared to risk exploring the attraction between them. And in response he’d fallen the rest of the way in love with her.

  As if he’d had a choice. She was irresistible. Adorable. Sexy. Funny. Warm. And out of his reach thanks to the bump that no longer allowed her to button her coat.

  And he was doomed to travel the streets of Melbourne with her until that bump became a baby and she wouldn’t need him anymore. He wasn’t sure if he was looking forward to that moment or not, sad case that he was.

  “Did you get your invitations done?” she asked.

  They’d divided their guest list to split the labor, although he’d done his level best to ensure he got the lion’s share.

  “Sealed and ready to go,” he said, stooping to collect his box.

  He rounded the table to dump it on the trolley.

  “Should have known. Do you ever let anyone down?” she asked lightly.

  Briefly his thoughts flashed to Dani, to the bitter disappointment he’d visited on her.

  “I’ve had my moments,” he said.

  Lucy frowned, but his father arrived to draw her curiosity away. Despite the fact that Dom had been in the doghouse since investing in Market Fresh, his father still doted on Lucy. Go figure. Not that Dom would want her to be subjected to the same moody disapproval. That would only have made a difficult situation more impossible. But still…

  “Lucia. You are looking well. So wonderful,” Tony said, holding his arms wide. “Every day you look wonderful.”

  She laughed. “Does Mrs. Bianco know what a ladies’ man you are?”

  His father’s chest swelled. Dom was sure his father had never seriously looked at another woman in his life, but the idea of being a lady-killer clearly appealed to his vanity.

  “Mrs. Bianco knows she is on to good thing,” he said roguishly.

  Lucy laughed, her hand absently going to her belly to smooth a reassuring circle on her bump. The baby had to be kicking—she always did that when the baby was active.

  “I have something for you, Mr. Bianco,” she said.

  She avoided Dom’s eye as she reached into her coat pocket. He tensed as he saw what she held—a second invitation to their Web site launch. She’d obviously decided to do her bit to heal the rift between father and son.

  Dom crossed his arms over his chest. Good luck to her. He just hoped his father was more polite in his refusal second time around.

  “This is for the party Dom and I are having to celebrate our
new Web site,” she said, offering the envelope to his father. “We’d love you and Mrs. Bianco to come. We’re going to have catering, all prepared from your produce, and I would really like my customers to meet the person who handpicks all their supplies.”

  Dom waited for his father to scowl or wave his hand dismissively, as he had moments ago when Dom issued his invitation.

  “I not very good at parties,” his father said.

  “I refuse to believe that,” Lucy said. “I’ve seen the way you talk to your customers. It will be just like that, with food and vino.”

  She leaned forward and tucked the invitation into the pocket on his father’s apron.

  “If you don’t come, I’ll be very disappointed. I ordered the caterers to make some Sicilian cannoli for you because I know how much you love them.”

  “Hmmph. I will show Mrs. Bianco, see what she says,” Tony said. Then he gave Lucy a wave and moved off to serve another customer.

  Immediately Lucy turned to him and pointed a finger at his chest.

  “Not a word. I refuse to be the reason you and your father aren’t on good terms,” she said.

  He simply looked at her until her cheeks turned pink.

  “What? Did I forget to brush my hair or something?” she asked, reaching up a self-conscious hand.

  “I already gave my father an invitation to the launch party.”

  “Oh.” Her color deepened. “I’m sorry. No wonder he looked so surprised. He must think I’m an idiot.”

  “He refused to accept it. Wouldn’t even take the envelope out of my hand.”

  Lucy frowned, then a small smile appeared on her mouth.

  “Huh. Well, I guess you just have to know how to handle Italian men,” she said.

  “And you do, do you?” he asked.

  She breathed on her fingernails and pretended to buff them on her coat collar. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  “Such as?”

  He couldn’t help it, he’d moved closer to her. She was too beautiful, too funny.

  “Well…it helps if you have one of these,” she said, pointing to her belly. “The bigger it gets, the more power I have.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Definitely. Any good Italian boy is helpless in my hands. Want me to demonstrate?” she asked, her brown eyes shining with laughter.

  “You don’t need to,” he said.

  She glanced up at him, then seemed to suddenly realize how close they were standing. Her mouth parted. He stared at her lips for a long moment, then he took a deep breath and a step backward.

  Man, but honoring the deal they’d made got harder every day.

  “You got today’s shopping list?” he asked.

  She handed it over and they both concentrated on filling the order. When the trolley was stacked high, he shifted the boxes into the back of the van. Lucy took over from there, allocating orders with a speed and efficiency that always amazed him. She seemed to have a photographic memory for each customer’s requirements and only ever consulted their lists once or twice. She also made sure that at least once a week there was a surprise in their package—maybe some fruit that had just come into season, or an order of herbs they hadn’t requested. She understood the importance of making people feel valued.

  As she had every day that they’d driven together, she slid into the driver’s seat once the orders were allocated. She knew he liked to drive, too, but he’d yet to win that battle.

  “Stop giving me that look,” she said as he slid into the passenger seat.

  “Soon you won’t be able to reach the wheel,” he said smugly.

  “Soon we’ll have two vans and you won’t have to covet mine,” she said.

  She smiled, and as he did every day, he wondered how any man could walk away from her. He couldn’t, and he’d never even had her.

  On the way back to the city after their deliveries, Lucy kept checking the time on the dash, her gaze darting between it and the congested roads ahead of them. When she started biting her lower lip, he decided it was time to speak up.

  “What are we late for?” he asked.

  “Not we, me. I’ve got a checkup with the doctor.” She flashed him an uncertain look. “It’s been four weeks.”

  Right. They were going to scan to see if her placenta had moved. As far as he knew, she’d had no more problems since that first bleed. Although they weren’t exactly on gynecological terms, he figured she would have told him if something further had happened.

  “If you’re going to be late, head straight to the hospital. I don’t mind waiting,” he said.

  She shook her head automatically, then checked the time again.

  “Don’t be a stubborn idiot,” he said.

  “Lovely,” she said, but she turned off and started working her way toward the Royal Women’s Hospital.

  She found a parking spot and turned off the engine, then simply sat behind the wheel, her fingers drumming repeatedly as she frowned out the front window.

  “You okay?” he asked after a few seconds.

  “Nervous,” she said. “The doctor didn’t say this, but I read that if the placenta’s moved down instead of up, I’ll probably have to be admitted to hospital for the rest of my pregnancy.”

  He nodded. She would hate being bedridden, and she would worry about the business and feel guilty, but she would do it.

  “It’s unlikely. Really rare. Probably why he didn’t bother mentioning it,” she said, her fingers beating out a rapid staccato now. “And I haven’t had any more bleeds, so the odds are good everything is fine.”

  “Want me to come with you?” he asked.

  She glanced at him, then quickly looked away.

  “Thanks, but I should probably go alone,” she said.

  Right.

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be,” she said. “Sorry.”

  The next hour crawled by. He couldn’t understand what was taking so long. He got out of the car twice, ready to go inside and track her down to make sure she wasn’t sitting somewhere, struggling to deal with bad news on her own. Both times he forced himself to stay put. Lucy had defined the parameters of their relationship. He needed to stick to them.

  He couldn’t stop himself from getting out of the car when he saw her walking across the asphalt after nearly an hour and a half. She was smiling, and there was a new swing to her walk.

  Despite his worry, he couldn’t help smiling in return.

  “Good news?”

  “The best. My placenta is midway, just where it should be. I am now officially a normal twenty-five weeks pregnant woman. No special instructions, no restrictions. Woo-hoo!”

  She was practically skipping, and he couldn’t help laughing.

  “We’re going to have to tie a string to you so you don’t float away,” he said.

  She stopped in front of him and her expression sobered.

  “Sorry it was so long. They were running late.”

  He shrugged it off, but she reached out to touch his arm.

  “I was thinking while I was waiting. I want you to know I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me over the past few weeks. The extra work, all the support. You’re a good man, Dominic Bianco.”

  He stared down at her, frustrated. He was a good man—he was also a man who desperately wanted to kiss her. A man who felt a fierce desire to protect her and belong to her.

  “You make it easy,” he said.

  She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  “You make it easy, too,” she said. “Too easy, sometimes.”

  It was just a peck, a kiss between friends, but his body roared to life anyway. Before he could stop himself, his arms came up to stop her from stepping away.

  They stared at each other. Lucy’s eyes dropped to his mouth. Four weeks of careful diplomacy flew out the window. He wanted to kiss her. He was going to kiss her.

  She sighed as his lips met hers. His tongue slid inside her mouth, tasting her sweet
ness and warmth. He slid his hands into her hair, cradling her head as he kissed her deeply.

  He’d kept a tight rein on himself for so long, but he could feel his control slipping. He wanted to slide his hands beneath her clothes and touch her. He wanted to see her breasts, feel them in his hands. He wanted to feel her legs wrapped around his waist. He wanted to be inside her, part of her.

  He backed her against the van and kissed his way across her cheekbone to her neck. She dropped her head back, her breath coming quickly.

  “Dom,” she said.

  He pressed an openmouthed kiss to the tender skin beneath her jaw, unable to get enough of her. She smelled so good, felt so good….

  “Dom. We need to stop,” she said. “This can’t go anywhere.”

  She sounded reluctant, and her body was still clinging to his. But she’d said it. He stilled, his face pressed against her skin. He was hard and he wanted her, so much. Not just physically. In every way.

  Slowly he lifted his head and looked into her face. Her pupils were dilated, her mouth swollen from his kisses. But her eyes were serious. It was enough for him to release her.

  They stared at each other for a long moment. There were so many things he wanted to say to her. He understood her reluctance to complicate her life, but life was complicated. The feelings between them were very real. She was prepared to risk so much in her professional life, but in her personal life she had all the hatches battened down tight.

  “You know I want more from you than just a few kisses in a parking garage,” he said.

  She shook her head. “I can’t risk it.”

  “I’m not Marcus, Lucy. I’m not going anywhere.”

  She simply stared at him. He ran a hand through his hair and stared out at nothing for a moment.

  “Okay. I understand. We’d better get back to the market,” he said.

  He slid into the passenger seat. She got into the car and put the key in the ignition but didn’t start the engine.

  “I’m attracted to you. It’s not that I don’t want you,” she said quietly.

  “Yeah, I got that.” He sounded like a sulky kid and he sighed heavily. “Look, we agreed to keep things about work, and I crossed the line. I’m sorry. But like Ma always says, we don’t choose the ones we love. It’s just the way it is.”