by Lisa Jordan
“Hey, you did nothing wrong. How about setting the table for me? Remember red square plates with the green-and-gold ones.”
“Okay.” Hannah left the room, but with much less enthusiasm than she showed on the stairs. Nick had an overwhelming urge to follow and wrap her in his arms. The look on her face pierced his heart. It wasn’t her fault her parents screwed things up. Why did the kids have to suffer? He’d give up his last breath before he hurt her again.
Mr. Peretti stood with feet apart and wrapped an arm around Josie’s shoulders as if to show Nick exactly where she belonged. “So, what’s going on here?”
Josie slipped out of her father’s embrace and waved toward the couch where her stepmother sat. “Dad, sit down.”
“I don’t think I want to.” He continued his drill instructor stance, glaring at Nick.
“Please.”
“Come on, Max. Sit down and let Josie explain.” Mrs. Peretti tugged on her husband’s arm, her brows knitted with concern.
“Fine.” He tugged on his pant legs before sitting and nodded to Nick. “You’d better have a good reason for suddenly showing up after all this time. What’s the matter with you, anyway? You got my daughter pregnant and disappeared for ten years.”
Nick took a step forward. “Sir—”
Josie pressed a hand against Nick’s chest. “Wait.” She knelt in front of her father and grabbed his hands. “The results came back. I’m not a match.”
“Oh, Josie. I’m sorry, honey.” He laid a hand aside her cheek.
She bit her lip and nodded. “After I learned my marrow didn’t match Hannah’s, finding Nick was my last hope. Agnes suggested checking out Facebook. I found out he was an English professor at Linwood Park University, so I went to see him. He came to the shop last night as I was closing up, and we talked.” She paused, then cleared her throat. “He didn’t know about Hannah.”
Mr. Peretti’s head snapped up. “How’s that possible? You told his mother. She promised to contact him. Sounds like a cop-out. I should’ve gone after him myself.”
“I did, but she chose not to pass on the news.”
Mr. Peretti eyed Nick. “Is this true?”
“Yes, sir.”
Rubbing his forehead, Mr. Peretti leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He stared at the carpet for a moment, then looked back at Nick. “Are you married? Dating anyone?”
Even though the scowl didn’t leave Mr. Peretti’s face, Nick sensed his attitude shifting. Just a bit. “No, sir.”
“Have any other children?” His glare could melt ice.
“Not that I know of.” As soon as the words left Nick’s mouth, he wished he could snatch them back and cram them down his throat.
Josie’s father jumped to his feet, his hands fisted as he took a step toward Nick. His contorted face matched his red V-neck sweater. “You find this funny, son?”
Mr. Peretti stood so close Nick could see the man’s pupils contracting. He gulped. “Not at all, sir.”
“Then why the smart-mouthed answer?” Mr. Peretti stepped closer to Nick.
A throbbing in the back of his head intensified, wrapping his brain in a headlock. Before he could open his big mouth and rectify the situation, Josie jumped between them, planting a palm on each of their chests. Her voice hissed. “Knock it off. Both of you. Dad, relax. Nick didn’t mean anything by it. Hannah doesn’t need the two of you going at it. She’s been through enough already.” Her eyes shot toward the dining room.
Nick’s neck heated. His daughter was in the other room and he was ready to tangle with her grandfather? What a way to win the kid’s approval.
Mr. Peretti’s shoulders relaxed. He took a step back. His face softened as he looked at his daughter. He scrubbed a hand over his head. “What are your intentions now, Nick?”
“Dad…” Josie’s voice held that “I’m warning you” tone.
Nick admired Josie’s strength and her relationship with her family. But he could fight his own battles. He was man enough to own up to his mistakes. Although this probably wasn’t a great time to mention he had crashed and burned in the marriage proposal department. “That’s up to Josie and Hannah. I’m willing to be as involved as they will let me. I have other business in Shelby Lake, so I’ll be here often.”
Mr. Peretti sat next to his wife and draped an arm over her shoulders. “Linwood Park is quite a ways, isn’t it?”
“About ninety minutes, but I need to be in Shelby Lake every other day, anyway.”
“Why?”
Tired of Mr. Peretti’s inquisition, Nick wanted to tell him it was none of his business, but didn’t think that would fly. Ross’s face flashed through his thoughts. What would Josie’s dad have to say about that? And Josie? If she knew the truth, would she even let him around Hannah? He couldn’t risk it. Not yet. “Family obligations.”
The doorbell rang again, giving Nick a breather. Honestly, he couldn’t blame the guy. If some chump messed with his daughter, he’d be all over him. Trouble was Max wasn’t going anywhere, and a lifetime of grief would be hard to swallow. Nick dropped into a leather armchair and rubbed a thumb and forefinger over his eyes.
Someone clapped a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to find Josie’s grandfather standing over him. Was this round two?
“You seem like decent man. Don’t let the past repeat itself.”
“You have my word, sir.” At least somebody in the room wasn’t ready to lynch him.
“Break their hearts, you answer to me.” The man’s clipped accent emphasized his promise.
He needed to earn more than just Josie’s trust again.
Even though he’d learned about Hannah less than twenty-four hours ago, he understood the protectiveness the two Peretti men felt for the women in their family. The thing was, though, how did he make them understand hurting Josie or Hannah was the last thing on his mind?
Chapter Six
“Burt, please, just one more week. I’ll have all of the money by next Friday.” Josie clutched the cordless phone as she stood on tiptoes to reach the bag of chocolate chips.
“I’m sorry, Josie, but you were late the past two months. I know you’re going through a rough patch right now, but my hands are tied.”
“Burt, really? My daughter has leukemia. That’s a little more than a rough patch. By the way, how’s your family?” She grabbed a long-handled wooden spoon and tried to push the morsels to the edge of the tall industrial metal cart.
With all of the construction going on in the storeroom, she’d had to move all of her supplies into the kitchen, making the small space even more crowded. The best storage option was to go up. She pulled out a plastic tote of flour and stood on the end, testing to see if it would hold her weight.
“I’m sorry, Josie. If your mortgage payment isn’t here by the close of business tomorrow, your loan defaults.”
Josie ended the call and shoved the phone in the pocket of her apron. She rested her forehead against the cold metal. When would she catch a break? When did life become so hard? All she wanted was a healthy daughter and thriving business. Was that too much to ask?
Throwing herself a pity party was not going to get the baking done. Without a full pastry case, she wouldn’t generate an income. No income meant no business. No business meant no insurance. No insurance meant her daughter’s life was even more at risk.
She and Hannah had a girls’ night planned with Grace, Lindsey and Hannah’s best friend, Ashley. Movies, pedicures and popcorn. But first, she had chocolate chip muffins and an apple crisp to make—no, make that two apple crisps since that was tomorrow’s special.
One more inch and she’d be able to reach those chips—
“What are you doing?”
Nick’s deep voice startled Josie. The spoon flew out of her hand and clattered to the floor. Her arms pinwheeled as her foot slipped off the end of the tote. Instead of landing on the floor, she fell against a hard chest. He smelled of soap and leather. Her stomach flip-flopped
.
She pushed away from him, her heart thundering against her rib cage. “What are you doing?”
Nick released his hands from her forearms. “I think I asked you first.”
“Hanging wallpaper. What does it look like I’m doing?” She turned away and eyed the blasted bag of chocolate chips hanging over the edge, mocking her.
“Trying to break your neck.” Nick strode to the shelf, reached up and snagged the bag. He turned and dropped it on the counter.
Of course, he made it look so easy.
She strode to the calendar hanging by the door and ran a finger along the filled-in squares. “Neck breaking? Was that today? I thought I had that penciled in for tomorrow. You’re right—that was on today’s to-do list, wasn’t it?”
He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms and ankles. “What’s with the attitude?”
Josie sighed and sagged against the wall, not liking the way Nick appeared to fit in her kitchen. “I’m tired. And cranky. And feeling claustrophobic in my own kitchen.”
She wasn’t about to mention her phone call to Burt. That was her problem. She’d find a way to get the money.
“Maybe you need a better storage system.” He eyed the racks and stacks of totes.
“There’s no room.” Having his six-foot frame in the room didn’t help with space, either. Her supplies weren’t the only things making her feel closed in. Seeing Nick almost every day didn’t do her heart any favors.
“Make room. How can you work if your space isn’t efficient?” Nick took off his coat and hung it next hers by the back door. He stood with his back to her, hands on his hips, and surveyed her racks and totes.
“With everything going on, I just don’t have the time.” She ripped open the bag of chocolate chips and scooped out enough for her muffin batter.
“Let me help. I can do it for you.”
“No, thanks.”
“Josie, you spend so much time taking care of others. When are you going to take care of yourself?” Nick stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He used his thumbs to massage circles in the base of her lower neck.
Please stop.
Don’t stop. Ever.
Josie closed her eyes a moment, savoring the gentle strength in Nick’s hands on her neck. All she had to do was lean back about an inch, and she’d be in his embrace. Three more seconds and she’d be as strong as her muffin batter, which wouldn’t be good for either one of them.
With a sigh, she stepped away from him. Reaching for the bowl, she folded in the chips, then scooped batter into the muffin tins. “When my daughter is healthy, and my business is in the black.”
“I’m sorry.” Nick pulled a scoop out of the large crock of utensils on the counter and helped fill the muffin tins.
Josie laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry for biting your head off. Not your fault.”
“At least I understand why Agnes is caring for the front of the store.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Her stomach flip-flopped again.
Josie opened the oven and slid the muffins onto the rack. Closing it, she set the timer. “Yeah, she banned me from the dining room. My own store. I think she forgets who’s in charge sometimes.”
“And you wouldn’t have it any other way.” Nick carried the empty bowl to the sink. He paused to push up his sweater sleeves before dipping his hands into the sudsy water to wash her latest batch of dishes.
“No.” Why did he have to look so at-home doing her dishes? She forced her eyes away from the way his sweater stretched across his broad shoulders. “Why are you here, Nick?” She paused and held up a hand. “Wait, I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just you usually wait until evening.”
Nick rinsed his hands, and then reached for a paper towel. He leaned against the sink and looked at Josie, his eyes becoming overly bright. “I just got a call from the doctor’s office.” He paused and swallowed. “I’m a match, Josie.”
Match. He said match. A surge of warmth that had nothing to do with the heated kitchen rushed through her, filling those cracks where her heart had split open so many times over in the past year.
“Oh, Nick…” Her chest hitched. Tears filled her eyes. “This is an amazing answer to prayer.”
Thank You, God.
Nick wrapped his arms around her. “Hey, come on. Don’t cry. This is a good thing, remember?”
Nodding, she buried her face in the fibers of his sweater and slid her arms around his waist.
Their first glimmer of hope.
Her daughter had a chance. Correction—their daughter. All because of Nick.
Nick tilted her chin and thumbed away a tear. “Are you okay?”
How did she thank someone for saving her daughter’s life?
She stared at her feet a moment, then looked at him. “Thank you, Nick. I mean it. You have no idea how much this means to me. To Hannah.”
“No thanks needed, Josie. I’m her father. I’m here for her. And you.” He tightened his hold on her.
Josie chewed on the inside of her lip. But for how long? Life proved love didn’t stick around. Her mother walked out when Josie was six. Nonna died when Josie was sixteen. And Nick. He’d left once. How long before he did it again? Was Hannah the only reason he was willing to stay put for now?
Josie shifted her gaze to the curve of his bottom lip. All she had to do was lift herself about two inches—
The timer dinged.
Jerking out of his embrace, she shoved her trembling hands in the oven mitts and pulled out the muffins. Heat crawled up her neck.
What was she doing, practically throwing herself at the guy? She probably looked like a worn-out circus clown with her smeared makeup and red nose.
If she closed her eyes, she could flick through her memories and pull out the day he broke her heart and relive that pain as a reminder to keep him at arm’s length. Repairing her broken heart had taken more time than she cared to admit.
Nick touched her shoulder. Josie forced herself not to shrug his hand away. “How about if I pick up a pizza and a movie? We could celebrate at your house.”
“Could we do it another night?” She flipped the muffins out onto cooling racks and lined them in rows. “Hannah’s been looking forward to the girls’ night we planned a few days ago.” And she needed a break from his closeness.
“Sure, that’s fine.” By the look on his face, she guessed he assumed she was trying to give him the brush-off. Not really. Although her heart could use some distance from that mesmerizing smile.
She placed a hand on his arm. “I’m not making excuses. What about this weekend? We could make homemade pizza—my grandmother’s recipe—and watch a movie. Hannah will love it.”
He shrugged, acting as if it was no big deal, but she had seen the sparkle return to his eyes. “Okay, yeah. Sure, that’ll be good. Anything in particular you want to watch?”
Josie shook her head. “I’ll see if there’s something new Hannah wants to see.”
“I’m putting in a request at work for family leave. Like I’ve said, I want to be here for you and Hannah. You don’t have to handle this alone anymore.”
Despite the warning screaming in her head, Josie wrapped her arms around him again. Her head rested against his chest. His heartbeat thudded—trust me, trust me, trust me. Oh, how she wanted to cling to his promises.
She had to remember this was for Hannah. He wasn’t interested in being her everyday Joe. After all, what they had ten years ago was over. They’d both changed, moved on with their lives. Despite being drawn to him, she couldn’t afford to risk her heart again.
*
He made a promise to Josie and would do whatever it took to keep it—even put his job on the line.
Nick rapped two knuckles against the frosted pane of the open wooden door. “Dr. Clark, do you have a minute?”
Dr. Clark looked up from his desk, pulled off his wire-rimmed glasses and waved Nick into the room. “Dr. Brennan, you’re giving me a good exc
use to take a break. Have a seat, and tell me what’s on your mind.”
Nick entered the small room and settled in one of the studded leather chairs in front of the department head’s desk. He tried not to squirm as the older man watched him. Was this how kids felt in the principal’s office?
Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his knees and fixed his eyes on the towering stack of binders teetering near the edge of the cluttered wooden desk. “Sir, I wanted to let you know I’ve submitted a request for family medical leave.”
“Oh? Problems with your brother?” Dr. Clark stuck the stem of his glasses between his teeth.
“My brother’s group home is closing, but I found another
residence for Ross in Shelby Lake.”
“Shelby Lake? That’s quite a distance.” Dr. Clark frowned.
“Yes, sir.” Nick wiped his clammy palms on his Dockers.
“I can certainly understand your need to take care of your family. You’ll have to file your request with human resources.”
“Yes, I’ve already done that. I wanted to let you hear the news from me.”
“I appreciate that, Dr. Brennan. I know what it’s like to want the best for your family. It’s too bad about your brother’s home.” Dr. Clark set his glasses on an open book, then leaned forward on his arms. “If I may be bold, you look like a man with more on his mind than your brother.”
Nick scrubbed a hand across his face. “I’ve been given some news that has changed my life.”
“Are you sick?”
“No, not me.” Nick loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button to his dress shirt. Was it warm in here? He sucked in a deep breath, grasping for a thread of courage to divulge the newly discovered skeleton from his past. He wasn’t trying to hide his relationship with Josie, and now Hannah, but after hearing Dr. Clark rant for the past eight months about one of the other professors who caused a scandal by getting involved with a student, Nick wanted Dr. Clark to hear his news firsthand. Now if only his gut would stop rolling.
“Dr. Brennan?”
“I have a daughter.” The words choked out of his throat as if someone had pounded on his back to dislodge an object blocking his breath.