Michael's Father (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Melinda Curtis

  Cori pulled a chair close to Michael, her back to Blake, shutting him out again. This time, he deserved it.

  “You know, Peanut, we can’t choose who our parents are. God does that. Since we’ve lived so far away, you haven’t had the chance to get to know your dad. That’s all going to change.”

  Cori was so much better at parenting than Blake was.

  “You said we’d never have a daddy live with us,” Michael wailed.

  “He’s not going to live with us. He’s just going to visit. And stay in a hotel,” she added—for Blake’s benefit, he was sure.

  Michael jumped out of his chair and leaned forward, yelling. “Why did you have to pick him? He doesn’t even like you. And I bet he didn’t say sorry like he promised.” Michael ran upstairs, slamming the door of the pink room, slamming Blake out of his heart.

  Cori sighed and stood, keeping her back to Blake. She wiped her face. “I asked you to wait for me.”

  “I’m sorry. I should have. For some reason, I couldn’t.” What had he expected? That Michael would jump into his arms?

  God, yes.

  “Give it some time,” Cori told him quietly before following her son upstairs.

  That was it? No, Blake, you bastard? Or dire threats if he ever approached his son again? Blake deserved that much, at the very least.

  SALVATORE MESSINA LEANED on his desk, waiting for Corinne and his great-grandson to come downstairs, ignoring the limo and driver waiting out front to take him to work. He couldn’t sit down in a chair because he knew he might not be able to stand up in time to catch them before they left. He suspected Corinne was going to breeze out of here as fast as she could, taking his great-grandson out of his life forever.

  She couldn’t leave without resolving things between them. He’d tried to talk to her about Blake that day in the office. He’d make Blake marry her if that’s what she wanted. Really, he admired the girl for holding the secret so long and so well. Salvatore needed people like that.

  BLAKE STOMPED INTO THE kitchen without taking off his boots. Jen looked up from her cereal bowl with interest. Instead of blowing through the house and rushing back out again as he usually did during the day, Blake paced the kitchen, not wanting to be alone. His life was in ruins.

  “You want me to make you some coffee?” Jen offered, staring at him questioningly.

  “No.” If one good thing had come of all this, it was that he and Jen were communicating again.

  “Some pancakes?”

  “Definitely no.” Blake placed a hand on either side of the sink and dropped his head. “They’re leaving.” He hadn’t thought their leaving would rip him apart like this. Hell, if it came to that, he hadn’t truly believed they’d leave, despite the trouble he and Cori kept having.

  “Oh, sheesh. Look at me. I’m not even dressed. Let me just run upstairs…”

  Blake couldn’t bear to turn around and face Jen. “They’ll be gone by the time you change.”

  “I have to say goodbye to Mikey. Cori won’t leave without letting me say goodbye, will she?”

  Blake could hear the tears in Jen’s voice and swallowed to keep his own at bay. “I don’t know.” Michael never wanted to see him again, with good reason.

  He heard Jen’s chair scrape back from the table. “Criminy, I wish you would have called me and told me sooner. Or, at least, told me he was ours. You could have trusted me that much.”

  “What?” Blake turned and followed her into the hallway. “You knew? Since when?”

  “I don’t know. Almost two weeks ago, I think.” She leaped up the stairs.

  “That long?” Blake counted back the days to when Cori had told him. Almost two weeks would mean that Jen had known about as long as he had. That explained the volatile temper, but not her acceptance of Michael. And who had told her? The only possibility was Cori. Why would she tell Jen?

  Jen banged into her bedroom and slammed the door. Blake trotted up the stairs because Jen was still yelling at him.

  “You think I’m a baby who couldn’t figure it out? I mean, look at those ears.”

  Blake stood close to the door. “You figured it out? Cori didn’t tell you?”

  “No. It’s in Mikey’s baby book. He reads it all the time. Well, he doesn’t read, exactly. He just has stuff memorized.”

  Blake leaned against the door frame and called through the closed door. “Am I missing something here?”

  “Most likely. You are a little slow, plus you always think the worst.”

  Cori had said much the same thing.

  “Jen.”

  She popped the door open, looking like she’d picked her T-shirt up off the floor and the jeans along with it. He was going to have to talk to her about the ironing board downstairs.

  “Your name was written in the front of his baby book,” Jen proclaimed.

  “Oh.” Was that all? Blake’s heart deflated with disappointment. He’d expected something more mind-bending, some miracle to make him believe in Cori again.

  “No, oh. Come on, you think she just wrote it there yesterday or something?”

  “Well, yes.”

  Jen rolled her eyes, then pushed past him. “She wrote the whole book in this shiny, sparkly blue ink. Even your name. It’s not the kind of pen you carry in your purse.” Jen skipped down the stairs. “He’s a bright kid. Sheesh, by next year he’d be able to read the word father and then ask about your name.”

  Blake sank down on the top step, overwhelmed by the implications. If Cori was willing to state his name in Michael’s baby book and not on his birth certificate, she hadn’t kept silent selfishly to achieve her independence. She’d kept her secret only to protect him and Jen. Why record the truth anywhere if she meant to keep it from him forever?

  Suddenly, Cori’s carefully worded answers and silences made a whole lot of sense. She’d been walking a tightrope between his family and hers.

  “I’m an ass.” Who was about to lose the best thing that had ever happened to him. Two of the best things.

  He bolted down the stairs and grabbed his truck keys off the counter. He ran past Jen, who was putting on her sneakers and ripped out the door. “You’re a miracle worker, Jen. Love you!”

  “Hey,” she called. “Wait for me.”

  “Can’t,” he yelled, climbing into the old truck. He had to catch them, before it was too late.

  BLAKE PULLED UP TO THE front of the Messina mansion with a sigh of relief. Cori’s dented yellow Mustang sat in the driveway. Blake pulled in behind her but didn’t get out. He needed the right words to win her over, yet he suffered from an acute case of brain freeze.

  A limousine sat in front of the house. Its driver leaned up against the car. That meant Salvatore Messina was still at home. Cori was probably waiting to leave until the old man cleared the area. Blake could tell the tension between the two had gotten unbearable since Sophia passed away. They tried so hard not to look or talk directly to each other that they must want desperately to be together.

  Suddenly slapped with a solution Cori couldn’t resist, Blake hopped out of the truck and ran into the house. His new plan had to work. Precious minutes passed before Blake located Mr. Messina in his office.

  “Cori’s leaving.” Blake closed the office door behind him.

  The old man scowled from his perch on the edge of his desk, but didn’t look up from the papers in his hand.

  “I need you to stop them.” More accurately, he needed Mr. Messina’s help in making them a family.

  Salvatore Messina’s head jerked up and he gave Blake The Look. For the first time since Blake came to work at Messina Vineyards, he ignored it.

  “That’s right. You’re going to stop them.” Blake was willing to do anything to make them stay, but Cori wouldn’t stay if her relationship with her grandfather wasn’t mended. Blake began pacing the room.

  “Damn foolish notion. Why would I want to do that?”

  “Because you’re alone now. Sophia’s gone. I’m leaving—”


  Mr. Messina cut him off. “I’ve got Lucas.”

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t know he closed escrow on that vineyard across the valley yesterday?” Blake scoffed, because he knew the old man knew. “Besides, I know you’ve been playing with Michael every night. You’re probably the one who taught him about the sharpshooter.”

  Mr. Messina looked back at the papers in front of him, but Blake got the feeling he wasn’t seeing anything. The man was stubborn as a mule.

  “You’re sick, too, aren’t you.”

  Salvatore’s dark eyes lifted to glare at him. Blake had never asked such a personal question before.

  “The way I figure it, you have to apologize to Cori before she’ll even consider staying. You both need family. Now more than ever.”

  Mr. Messina’s head shot up, offense clearly taken. “I’m not going to apologize.”

  “Damn it, don’t let your pride splinter your family into nothing!” Blake stopped pacing and planted his palms on the edge of the desk. They were wasting time arguing like this. Blake took a deep breath and tried reason again. “You don’t relish being alone here, do you?”

  The old man glowered at him. “Didn’t I fire you?”

  “Nope, I quit.” Blake laughed, relieved. Mr. Messina was at his most reasonable when he was joking. Blake needed him reasonable.

  “Damn well should have fired you when I had the chance.” His employer’s expression eased, but not completely, leaving Blake in doubt.

  “You were bent on punishing me, remember?”

  Mr. Messina smiled. “Haven’t had the chance to do that yet. I’ve got some ideas, though.”

  Blake let out a relieved breath. “I’d think working for you would be punishment enough. That, and…” Blake drew himself up. “Marrying your granddaughter.”

  The old man’s eyes lasered onto Blake, eyebrows raised.

  “You heard me. I want to marry Cori. I love her.” He swallowed because it was the first time he’d said it out loud. Maybe if he’d said it to Cori earlier and often, they wouldn’t be in the mess they were in now. “We’ll live out at the house, close enough to keep an eye on you. But she won’t do it unless you mend this thing between you.”

  “She won’t accept an apology.” Salvatore Messina looked defeated. It was an expression Blake had never seen him wear before.

  “The least you can do is try.”

  “Let’s go.” Michael’s high voice carried through the door. They were leaving.

  “We’ve got one chance, you and I, so don’t blow it.” Blake opened the office door and stepped into the hallway to play their hand.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CORI FLINCHED when she heard the footsteps downstairs. It could only be her grandfather, which meant one last confrontation before she left. The suitcase banged awkwardly against her knee and she gripped Michael’s hand tighter as she descended the stairs.

  Blake stepped into view, a tentative smile on his face, no doubt trying one last time to make up with Michael. Except that he seemed to be smiling at her. That is, until he glanced over his shoulder.

  Low grumbles announced her grandfather’s presence.

  Just what she needed, both Blake and her grandfather seeing her off. Her heart was already broken. What more did they want from her? Balancing the suitcase in one hand and her son in the other, Cori tried to take the stairs faster.

  “Is that you, Corinne?”

  Cori sighed as she reached the bottom step. Escape was out of the question now. She dropped the suitcase and turned to face the music. Michael stepped behind her and wrapped one arm around her bare leg. She was underdressed for this final confrontation, in her baggy knit shorts and pink T-shirt. Even the red dress would have been a better choice.

  “It’s Michael and me. We’re getting out of your hair.” Forever. God, she wanted to cry. How had everything turned out so wrong? Blake hated her and Michael hated Blake. Her grandfather couldn’t care less about any of them.

  “Leaving so soon?” Her grandfather stepped out of the shadows and into the light, looking pale, his eyes drawn with pain. He leaned on a table next to the wall, seemingly close to collapse.

  Cori glanced at Blake, but he didn’t notice her grandfather’s weak physical state because he was staring at her. She had no idea what the stare was all about, since they’d parted on such rotten terms earlier. If he tried to talk about visitation now, she’d deck him.

  “It’s a full day’s drive. We need to start early.” She gazed down at Michael, who looked up at her with a worried expression. She smiled reassuringly. No one was going to hurt him anymore, if she could help it.

  “We haven’t discussed your mother’s will,” her grandfather said.

  “Why would we need to do that?”

  “Aren’t you curious about your inheritance?” Her grandfather gave her a small smile.

  Cori shook her head. She couldn’t deal with this now. “Have Jasper Kraken call me.” Jasper was the family lawyer. He’d be cold and impersonal, just the way a lawyer should be. Not a cold and impersonal family member. She leaned over to take Michael’s hand.

  “There are terms to the will.” Salvatore Messina’s words echoed in the large hall.

  Cori immediately straightened. “What terms?”

  “Trivial things, really.” He waved his free hand. “About residency and such.”

  Cori’s eyes narrowed. Something wasn’t right. “Residency?”

  “At the Messina Compound.”

  Cori was reminded of a time when she’d lived in this house and they’d played games like this for fun, trying to put one over on each other. “This is one of your games, isn’t it?” Cori’s eyes filled with tears. She didn’t know if her grandfather was making a gesture toward reconciliation or just being cruel. How could he do this to her on the day she was leaving? She’d cry all the way to L.A. Cori didn’t dare look at Blake and see his scorn. That would be her undoing.

  “No.” The word was spoken so innocently, she didn’t believe her grandfather.

  “You told me I wasn’t getting anything. I’m okay with that.” She reached again for Michael’s hand. “Come on, Peanut.”

  “You need to stay.” Her grandfather shuffled a step closer with a wobble. His legs didn’t seem able to hold him steady.

  “And you need to sit.” With a brief tug of resistance from Michael, Cori rushed to her grandfather’s side, lifting his arm around her shoulders and slipping her other arm around his back. “Help me,” she said to Blake.

  It took Blake a moment to react, but then he came to her grandfather’s other side and together they helped him into a chair in the living room. Michael hid between the buttery leather couch and the long, dark blue curtains.

  Cori stood back, hands on hips, her anger powerful enough to make her legs tremble. “I’ve never known anyone as stubborn as you. It’s obvious you need surgery. You can barely walk.”

  “Stubborn.” He snorted. “Nobody is more stubborn than you. Holding grudges. Staying away from your own family. Refusing responsibility.”

  “Protecting myself from emotional abuse. Leading my own life. Making it on my own.”

  “Selfish reasons.”

  “Personal goals.”

  He stood shakily, but with more balance than before. “You know nothing about goals. You worked for someone else.”

  “I worked for someone who values my opinion, who respects me and isn’t threatened when I come up with an idea that’s better than hers.”

  Her grandfather’s face reddened. No matter how much she hoped, he’d never think of her as more than a little girl.

  “Come on, Michael.” Cori spun away, but Blake’s words stopped her.

  “Please, don’t go.”

  “IT AMAZES ME that you’re as successful as you have been,” Blake said, scowling at the mess the old man had made of things. Didn’t he understand this was their last chance? “I told you to apologize to her.”

  “You’re fired.”
Salvatore Messina looked about ready to explode.

  Cori narrowed her eyes at the two of them. Michael was nowhere to be seen. Blake’s hopes were in shreds around his ankles.

  “Great, I can collect severance pay.” And Blake would, too, if only to make Mr. Messina mad.

  “No, you quit already!” Salvatore Messina bellowed.

  “Then, you can’t fire me.” Where had his son gone to? The poor kid probably thought his dad and great-grandfather were psycho. “Everything’s okay, buddy. Your Big Grandpa is just upset because you and your mom are leaving, that’s all.”

  “What’s going on?” Arms crossed over her chest, Cori stood her ground, while her eyes darted to the door.

  Blake stepped closer to Cori, needing her to believe him. He wanted to take Cori’s hand in his, but one look at her deep frown and he kept his hand to himself. “It’s National Apology Day. Isn’t it, sir?” Blake gave Mr. Messina a warning look.

  “When is Respect Your Elders Day?” Salvatore grumbled, then caught Blake’s expression, rolled his eyes and added weakly, “Family doesn’t apologize to family. They understand.”

  The man was hopeless. “Like that’s supposed to make up for threats? No wonder Cori stayed away so long. I can do better than that.” Blake had to do better or Cori and his son would walk out of his life forever. He scanned the room quickly. Blake needed to reassure Michael. “Mike? Where are you? Come out here.” Blake walked over to the couch and looked over the top. “Michael.”

  Cori gasped. Blake realized it was the first time she’d heard him call Michael by name.

  Blake softened his voice. “I need you to come out so I can look at you and tell you I’m sorry. Remember how friends need to say they’re sorry?”

  Michael crawled out from behind the couch, then scooted forward just a hair. Blake knelt in front of him, reluctantly keeping his distance to avoid spooking the child. “Do you remember when we met?”

  Michael nodded, picking at the carpet and not looking up.

  “Do you remember how mean I was to you that first day you came home? And you told your mom you didn’t like me?” It hurt just to remember that. “I’ve said some things since then that haven’t been very nice, either. Do you know why I did that?”