She smiled at him. Reached up to take ahold of the arm he’d lifted to her face. “Thank you. I will do everything I can to help you be happy, too,” she said. Then she leaned toward him.
And he kissed her.
* * *
He wasn’t leaving in the morning. He wasn’t going home for Christmas. He wasn’t asking for a paternity test. Funny how the answers had all come to him.
With his lips all over Lizzie’s, his tongue mating hungrily with hers, Nolan knew he was right where he needed to be. He kissed the corners of her mouth, and then she whimpered and moved her face, greedily seeking his lips again. Her body was pressing into him and he pulled her with him until they were lying down on the couch with her on top of him.
God, it felt good. So damned incredibly good. His hard-on pressed into her and she pressed right back. It had been a year too long since he’d felt so...right. Reaching between them, she touched the swollen bulge beneath his fly and he almost came apart.
He lifted a hand to her breast and...stopped. It was hard, not at all the pliable flesh he knew. Because it was filled with milk.
A reality check.
He wanted to believe he pulled away first, but knew it was her. He’d stopped moving his hand on her, but he’d still been kissing her like crazy. Pushing against him, she moaned as she sat up and landed in the chair next to the couch.
“Oh, my God,” she said, her head in her hands. She was shaking.
So was he.
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say.
“It’s not your fault...” Her voice faltered. “I just... We have to make this work, Nolan. I want it to work. I just... I think...maybe we’ve been spending too much time together all at once. Too much like last year. Taking things too fast.”
He knew she was right.
Felt it, too.
His mind and his heart were finally in sync.
“I think I’m going to go home for Christmas,” he told her. He knew he was. “I’m going to tell my parents about you and Stella and about our plans. The fact that I’m not abandoning them for Christmas will help them be more amenable. I’ll be back on the twenty-sixth. I have to play later that night, but I’ll come and see you and Stella the second I get back.”
There were no tears in her eyes as she looked up at him, but her gaze was stricken with so much more emotion than he was equipped to handle at that moment.
She nodded.
“I mean it, Lizzie, I’ll be back this time.”
Another halfhearted nod was her only response.
Swearing, he pulled out his wallet, grabbed the first nonplastic card he found—his country club membership—found a pen and wrote down his home address, both of his parents’ cell numbers and his own office number, before dropping the card on the coffee table.
He wanted to haul her up into his arms. To hold on tight and promise her that everything would be all right.
But he didn’t trust himself to let her go again. So he did the only thing left.
He let himself out.
Chapter Nineteen
The next morning, Carmela took one look at Lizzie’s face as she wandered into the kitchen after putting a recently fed Stella in her swing, and demanded to know what had happened. Then she took charge.
“He is not going to take Stella away from you,” she said when Lizzie told her what she most feared. “You definitely have reason to mistrust him, sweetie, but his money and supposed power aside, has he ever even indicated that he’d want to have Stella half the time?”
Still in her sleep pants and T-shirt, Lizzie shook her head. Listening. Desperate for reason that made sense to shut out the panic-ridden thoughts in her brain.
She knew she was overreacting. She just couldn’t seem to stop. It wasn’t like her. At all.
“I’d think a more likely fear,” Carmela said, “would be that his parents are going to convince him you’re a gold digger and try to get him to have nothing more to do with either you or Stella.”
That was a viable possibility, for sure. And if that did happen, she’d be home free.
But her heart sank and tears sprang to her eyes.
“That’s what’s really happening, isn’t it?” she asked. “He’s ditching me again.”
It shouldn’t hurt so much. She had Stella. She didn’t need him.
Oh, God, why did it hurt so much to think that she wasn’t good enough for a man who’d run out on her once already?
What was wrong with her that she’d still love him?
“I don’t know.” Carmela’s words reached her through a haze of pain.
She looked up from her seat, slumped at the table, as her friend scrambled eggs for them, meeting Carmela’s gaze. Carmela hated Nolan. Or close to it. She didn’t trust him. She was the one who’d known from the beginning that he was just using Lizzie. That he wouldn’t ever call again after he left the previous year.
She’d been right all along.
“It’s odd that he left this, don’t you think?” Carmela asked, holding up the card that Lizzie had left right where Nolan had dropped it the night before, on the coffee table. Her friend had obviously picked it up that morning since it was now in the kitchen.
She stared at the card, trying not to remember how good it had felt to have Nolan’s body moving under hers just moments before he jotted those phone numbers.
“He gave you his mom and dad’s cell phone numbers,” Carmela said. “It doesn’t get any more real than that.”
“He gave me numbers, Carm,” she said. “Just like last time. Who knows if they’re really to his parents’ cells? Or if he’ll warn them to disconnect them?” She’d uttered those questions for hours as she’d lain awake in the dark of the night, trying to figure out exactly what was going on, and where she was making mistakes.
“And it’s not like I’m going to call them to check,” she added, though she’d thought about doing so.
“He left his office number. You could call that. See where it gets you.” She could. And might, sometime, if she really needed to reach him.
It would have to be a pretty severe emergency, though. She’d promised herself that.
“And his pass to get into his country club,” Carmela added, reading the other side of the card. Lizzie hadn’t picked the thing up, hadn’t known what it was.
Of course he’d have membership to a country club. And he probably didn’t physically need the pass. They’d know who he was.
A country club...
While her parents hadn’t qualified as members, they’d been frequent guests at the Mahoneys’ country club in Chicago. She remembered how her mom would rave afterward about the food they ate, and then complain about the boxed hamburger meals that Lizzie had grown to love.
“Did he say when he’d be back?” Carmela’s question broke into her thoughts. Details of her life as a child didn’t define her anymore.
“Thursday sometime,” Lizzie told her. “Said he’d stop here before going to the club, but wasn’t sure how much time he’d have.”
“The day after Christmas,” Carmela said as though that had some significance. “He’s planning to come right back, Lizzie. What if he really was just going home to break the news of you and Stella to his family? I can’t imagine it’s going to be easy for him. Not only laying his new family on them, but also telling them that you all aren’t going to be a family...in the traditional sense.”
And if they demanded that he end his association with her and Stella? Would he? Would he walk away from them and deny Stella the right to know her father?
It was a better proposition than having them come after her for partial custody, right?
After all, Lizzie would be getting what she wanted. The assurance that Stella would grow up full-time with her. That’s all that mattered.
She’d tol
d herself so many times.
So why, with her daughter sleeping in the very next room, was she struggling so hard to find her joy?
* * *
Nolan could have called for a car to be waiting for him at the airport. He’d flown first-class, as usual. He could have messaged from the plane.
He took a cab instead. He was going to do this on his terms. From his arrival to his departure, he was the one in charge. So he was the youngest of four boys, he was a grown man.
And the first of them to become a father.
Thinking of that little baby girl, at home in her Pack ’n Play, in her car seat, on her changing table, in his arms, he knew it was time for him to adjust his thinking about his place in the family once and for all. He didn’t have to work harder than the rest. Didn’t have to prove a damned thing to them.
He’d always carried his weight, and then some, and would continue to do so.
He was also going to provide for Lizzie and Stella. Period.
With that thought firmly in mind he skipped the stop-off at his own luxury condominium and instructed the cabbie to take him straight to the mansion he’d grown up in. He walked in the front door unannounced, letting himself in with his own key.
He’d told his mother not to expect him until after the family dinner that preceded the small party with close friends every year—a sit-down meal at one table that included only Miles and Sarah, his parents, and their seven children. He’d lingered at the airport bar after his plane had landed so that he timed his arrival accordingly.
Or would have, had he not suddenly opted to skip the condo part of his plan. He’d thought he’d drop off his suitcase, shower and change. The horn had to go with him.
Showing up for Christmas Eve in pants and shirt wrinkled from travel wasn’t all that respectful, but he was there in New Orleans when he wanted to be in Austin with Lizzie and Stella, so that was enough.
And dinner with them all together suddenly seemed like the time to make his appearance. Better than the private sit-down with his father he’d been envisioning all along.
His father had just finished saying grace when Nolan made his appearance at the French doors leading into the dining room. His parents and six siblings, all dressed appropriately—the women in expensive red or black dresses that looked the same to him every year even though he knew they’d die before they wore the same dress to a party two years in a row, and the men in dress pants, shirts and ties in some shade of red or green. His mother had a diamond Christmas tree pinned to her red dress. And his father’s tie—red with little Christmas trees all over it—was one Belle, the youngest Fortune, had picked out for him when she was little. He’d worn it every year since.
The table, resplendent not only with the traditional ham, potato soufflé, various veggie dishes and bread baskets, was adorned in holiday decor, too, right down to the dishes and silver.
He’d never thought twice about eating on china that was only used two days a year. Paper plates with Lizzie would have suited him.
“Nolan!” His mother, Sarah, jumped up, her napkin falling to her chair as she ran over to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You made it in time for dinner! And you brought your saxophone! I’m so glad. Come on, have a seat,” she said, indicating his normal place at the table. It had been fully set.
Because he’d become that predictable? Was he that much of a “good son”?
Or maybe it was just out of respect for his place at that table.
The second he moved to his chair everyone started talking at once. His sisters at him. His father to his mother. Sarah to Diana, the woman who’d be serving at the party later that evening, as well. She took his bags and returned with a glass of wine, for which he thanked her, giving her a smile and a “Merry Christmas.”
It wasn’t until she was out of the room that everything changed. Silence fell and all of the food still lay untouched on the table.
Savannah, next to him, nudged him in the thigh under the table with her hand. Younger than him by a year, closest to him in age, she’d been his table mate his entire life. And she was letting him know he was the subject of the silence.
His father cleared his throat and Nolan’s grew tight.
He glared to his father’s left—Sarah was always on his right rather than at the end of the table—to his oldest brother.
Austin met his gaze with a shrug.
“I presume Austin broke his word to me and told you my news,” he said, meeting his father’s eyes straight-on.
“Hell, yes, he told me!” Miles’s booming voice boomed louder. Banging his hand on the table, he didn’t seem to notice the silver and china rattle as he continued. “How could you be so careless, son? I just don’t get it.”
Georgia, next to Austin, was adjusting her silverware. Belle dropped her napkin and bent to pick it up. Savannah was practically bruising his leg.
Avoiding the disappointment he knew he’d see in his mother’s eyes, Nolan addressed the man he’d looked up to and adored his entire life. That moment included.
“Wait just a minute,” Sarah said, her hand on Miles’s arm when he took a breath, obviously preparing to fire at Nolan again. She looked down the table at him, her eyes wide. “Am I to understand that you fathered a child?” Her voice rose higher with each word.
Five of his six siblings stared at him. Nothing like putting a guy on the spot. On second thought, he realized, he probably should have opted for his first plan—the after-dinner talk alone with his father.
Except...they were a family. His family.
“Yes, Mom, I did,” he said, reaching for his phone. There was no way anyone could resist pictures of that sweet little girl in her Christmas garb sitting on Santa’s lap.
“You don’t know that,” Austin butted in. “You have no proof the child is yours.”
That made him angry. Bone-deep, punch-his-brother-in-the-face pissed. The other five Fortune heirs had swung their gazes back to him, all wisely silent.
“I know she’s mine,” he said, letting the phone go. Ignoring his siblings for the moment, he looked between his mother and his father. “To be honest with you, even if Stella wasn’t mine—and I know for certain she is—I’d still love her every bit as much. Just as I am helplessly in love with Lizzie, her mother.”
Oh, God, that felt so good. Weights flew off his chest, up to the ether, where he hoped they’d get lost from him forever. Never did he want to live as he had for the past year, carrying around so much...wrong.
No one said a word. Miraculously no one even seemed to move.
“I have a grandchild?” Sarah suddenly blurted. “I’m a grandma?”
With a glance in her direction, Miles turned his attention to Nolan. “Are you telling me that you want to keep this woman and child in your life?” he asked.
“Yes,” Nolan said. “As a matter of fact, I’ve already promised her that I will do so.”
“You’re bringing them here to New Orleans?” Sarah asked. And then she looked toward the door. “Are they here now?”
He knew that if his mother gave Lizzie a chance, she’d love her. If she ever got that chance.
“You’ve asked her to marry you?” Miles was more to the point.
Nolan shook his head. “She doesn’t want to be with me,” he told everyone. “She’s not wealthy and doesn’t want to be. I’m buying a house in Austin and will be flying back and forth to see them whenever I can.”
“You can’t do that,” Sarah said. His brothers Draper and Beau agreed. In fact, they were all talking to him at the same time.
“Hold on!” Miles quieted everyone. Instantly.
His father looked at him and said, “You are a Fortune, son. I didn’t raise you to be a quitter, did I?”
“Excuse me?” He shook his head as he leaned forward, meeting the man eye to eye. “I can’t force a woman to
marry me,” he said. “Nor would I even want to. She wouldn’t be happy. I wouldn’t be happy. And that would guarantee that Stella wouldn’t be happy.”
“Stella. How old is she?” Sarah asked.
Grabbing his phone, Nolan scrolled to one of the two photos Lizzie had taken of him holding his daughter for the first time and passed it down to his mother. He’d have liked to stand over her shoulder and gush with her, or watch her reaction even, but he had his father to deal with.
“This isn’t one of your business deals, Dad. We’re talking about a woman here. And an innocent child. Lizzie’s life changed when her parents befriended a wealthy couple. Their priorities changed and she was left alone a lot. She’s really intent on living a modest lifestyle, and believes happiness comes from being able to do what you need to do, not what you’re expected to do. Beyond that, I screwed up. When I left her last year, I didn’t tell her who I really was. I was thinking about Molly and how wrong that went and... I just wanted it to end as a great memory. Instead, I left her to give birth to my child all alone.”
“All the more reason for you to fight like hell for what’s yours,” Miles said, intimidating in spite of the decorated Christmas tie. “We’re talking about family here, Nolan, and I will not have history repeat itself. I can’t allow it. Not in my home. Not in my family.”
It was Nolan’s turn to stare, openmouthed. What on earth...?
Miles seemed to change right before his eyes. To deflate. And then, with a long look at Sarah, who nodded, he straightened his shoulders.
“Perhaps it’s time,” he said.
Savannah laid a hand on Nolan’s knee under the table.
“As you know, I grew up in a modest neighborhood here in New Orleans. Your Grandma Melton was a single mother at a time when that was still looked down upon in society. I had an affinity for numbers, and got a scholarship to college, but not the best college. And I wasn’t ever invited to join the best fraternities. I learned early that it wasn’t just what you knew, but who you knew.”
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