She got out of bed, grabbing her robe, and slipped out of her room. She’d barely made it to her small kitchen before Turbo’s pickup rumbled into her drive.
It jerked to a stop, and Turbo was out the door, jogging to her porch, before the motor quit completely. She opened the door, and he had his arms around her before she could open her mouth to tell him he didn’t need to drive the whole way over. That she had been being a goose, and that she was fine. That she understood if he’d changed his mind about wanting red-haired children.
That thought made her eyes tear up again.
“Hey, Rissy. Honey. Please don’t cry.” His hands rubbed over her back before his arms tightened again. “I couldn’t stand it when I was five miles away from you. Being here doesn’t make it much easier. Man, it makes me feel so helpless when you cry. Please stop.”
His whispered words and comforting touch only made the sobs rise up in her throat faster and harder until she was crying, loud and wet, into his shirt.
His hands stroked down her back and into her hair, until, finally, he put an arm under her knees and picked her up. Kicking her front door shut, he carried her to her couch where they’d watched Annie, and he sat, cradling her on his lap, kissing her forehead and cheeks, and murmuring sweet, loving words, begging her to stop crying.
Finally her sobs subsided into hiccups. His hands continued to stroke. His lips nuzzled her hair and wet cheeks.
Embarrassment made her chest tight. At least it was dark. She looked like a red-haired witch on dope when she cried like that. It had been a long time, too.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know I was going to act like that. I thought I’d accepted the fact that I couldn’t have kids, but...I didn’t realize how much I would long to...” She trailed off, unable to even put into words how much his words had made her want to have his baby.
“No. It’s me. Just another example of my big, fat mouth getting me into trouble. Again. I didn’t know you couldn’t have kids, or I would never have said that.”
“But you want kids.”
His chest rose and fell, deeply. “I want you. However that looks.”
“I had leukemia when I was in third grade.”
He was quiet for a moment. “That’s why I don’t remember you in my class until I was in third grade. You missed a year of school...”
“And they held me back a grade. That’s why I want this library for the kids so badly. If I had had a library in the hospital, maybe I would have been able to keep up on my schoolwork.”
“This was your secret.”
“Yes.” She snuggled deeper, very aware that Turbo had tensed and still had not relaxed. Had he just now realized the implications? No children, ever? Could she ask? If she did, she risked hearing an answer that could devastate her.
“You know this doesn’t matter to me.” It was a statement. Flat-out serious.
The ball in her chest loosened slightly. “You just said how you wanted kids. Ten, actually.”
“I want you. If that means no little babies with red hair, fine.”
“We’ve never dated.”
Again, he was uncharacteristically silent for a few minutes. “I guess you don’t know I had the biggest crush on you in school.”
She gasped. “What? Was that before or after you toilet papered my house, dumped a ton of shelled corn in my car, and glued my locker shut?”
“I was just trying to get your attention.”
“You have a funny way of going about it.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Oh, there was the paint you dumped on my head.”
“That was actually an accident. But you did forget the prank call where I told you that you won the lottery?”
“That was you?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, wow. I never knew. You wouldn’t believe it, but my grandmother had given me lottery tickets for Christmas. I didn’t know how they worked, exactly. I mean, I didn’t think you got a call about them, but I’d never had lottery tickets before.”
“Yeah, I got you pretty good with that one.”
“You did. I danced around the kitchen like a maniac. But you’d hung up, and I never found out how to get my money.”
He laughed. “’Course, I fixed a flat tire for you once.”
Her brows furrowed. He did?
“Yeah. I saw it on your car in the school parking lot. Pulled it off, put a plug in it during lunch. You never knew.”
“No. I didn’t.”
He looked down, his face losing the ever-present smile and becoming serious. His voice came out soft and low, almost hesitant. “I’ve sent you flowers on the anniversary of your dad’s death for the last fifteen years.”
Harris’s stomach dropped. Her hand went to cover her mouth, and her eyes filled with tears again. “Oh, wow.” She swallowed, trying to get her throat to work. “I can’t believe it. I never suspected.”
“Figured you didn’t, but I lost my mom five years before your dad died. I might miss my own birthday, but I’ll never forget that date. January 19th. It’s the worst day of the year.”
“And you knew how I’d feel about my dad.”
“Thought I might have an idea. ’Course, I was a kid and didn’t have a very good imagination. Flowers seemed to be as good as anything.”
“I’ve always wondered who that was...was that your secret?”
“Heck, no.”
Chapter 15
TURBO’S HEART JUMPED to his throat. She’d told hers. His turn.
He understood how she might think that not having kids might be a deal-breaker. Yeah, he loved kids, and more than that, he could admit his favorite daydream lately was having children with Harris. But Harris was the key to those dreams.
His secret, however, was so much worse. What woman wanted to end up shackled to a man who had the potential to embarrass her at any moment? Anytime someone handed him their phone and asked him to read a text, his wife would be sitting there with her heart in her throat wondering if that person was going to find out that her husband was stupid. Harris deserved so much more.
His pride couldn’t take Harris thinking he was stupid. How could he take that chance?
“Rissy?” He’d called her that earlier, and she hadn’t seemed to mind. He liked the idea of him having a special name for her. Let everyone else see her as the prim librarian who was quiet and studious. He’d kissed her. He knew there was a passion that ran deep. But it was perfectly okay with him if the rest of the world never found out about it. They could use her full name and think she was exactly what she seemed.
“Yeah?”
“Is it okay if I call you Rissy?”
“I like it, actually. I’ve never had a nickname.”
He laughed. “I like the idea of having something just between us.”
“Me too.” Her fingers tickled the hair at the nape of his neck, and he tried not to move. He didn’t want her to stop, but he probably should think about putting her back to bed and going home. He’d be fine in the morning, but she’d be tired.
“Turbo?”
“Hmm?”
“I don’t have any more secrets.”
Oh, crap. He didn’t want to ruin anything. Plus, she’d just cried her heart out. It was too soon to drop another bomb on her. “Can I tell you mine tomorrow? After the play rehearsal.” There. He’d set a deadline for himself. A possible end date for their relationship.
She snuggled deeper into his arms. “That’s fine.”
He tightened his hold, feeling guilty for putting it off. For even stealing this time with her.
“Thanks for coming.”
“I couldn’t stay at home while you were here, crying.” He gazed down at her, and she smiled a watery smile back at him.
“It made me feel like you really cared.”
“Guess that cat’s out of the bag.”
She laughed.
He cupped her cheek with the hand that wasn’t under her back. “I care. A
lot.” He swallowed, unused to talking about his feelings but wanting her to know. “I’ve never raced across town in the middle of the night because my heart wouldn’t let me do anything else.”
“Your heart?”
“I’ve got one. Surprised?”
“No. I’m surprised it was for me.”
“Only you.”
TURBO DIDN’T GET IN until three. He was up again at five to go after his hood. Harris hadn’t said she’d still come, and he wasn’t planning on getting her. He figured he’d get his hood, stick it on, and be back to pick her up by nineish, and they’d head into the hospital together.
He snorted. Because, for the first time in his life, hanging out at the library seemed like a great idea.
The lights were on in Tough’s garage when Turbo pulled in, pulling his trailer behind. He’d texted Tough last night around two a.m., but he hadn’t expected Tough to be here.
Nor the old men who hung out at Tough’s garage, like the quilting club at Torque’s. But when he opened the door, he was met by two grumpy old men arguing over who got to be the black checkers.
“I was here six minutes before you.”
“But I sat down here first.”
“Because someone had to make the coffee. That was obviously me, since your coffee tastes worse than railroad cinders.”
“What do you know about railroad cinders? You were just a whippersnapper when they came out with the diesel motors.”
“I not only rode on the old steam engines, I shoved coal into the firebox. It was my first job. I was six years old. Unlike you, who laid around the house until your mother kicked you out.”
“That’s not true. I started my first business when I was ten. That was before you were born.”
Turbo punched the button on the overhead door, and it started up. Both men turned from the checkerboard where they were standing. Tough looked up from where he was pouring coffee. He held a cup up.
Mr. Sigel said, “No. Don’t give that stuff to Turbo. Last time you did that, he was literally hanging from the ceiling.”
Turbo rolled his eyes. “I was on the ceiling because my magic trick went a little awry and Tough didn’t want the Borax mixture that exploded and landed on the light to get hot. It wasn’t the coffee.”
“It was the coffee.”
The men nodded together.
Turbo opened his mouth.
Tough had come over beside him. “Shut up. First time since two o’ clock yesterday afternoon that they’re actually agreeing on something.”
Turbo closed his mouth. He whispered, “It wasn’t the coffee.”
“It was too,” Al said from across the garage.
“How come when I talk to you, you never hear me, but when I’m saying something I don’t want you to hear, you hear it every time?”
“Huh?” Al said.
“Like that,” Turbo said.
Tough grinned and shook his head.
“Where’s Kelly?”
“Sleeping.” Tough shifted. “She needs it.”
Turbo laughed. “Why? She’s grumpy if she doesn’t get enough rest?” He’d never had that problem, thankfully. Lack of sleep just made him hyper. Everything made him hyper. It hadn’t bothered him until Harris. Would she put up with how screwed up he was?
“Nah. She’s about three months along and needs the extra rest.”
“Three months along...you’re gonna have a baby?”
“No. She is.”
Turbo punched Tough on the shoulder. “That’s what I meant. Congratulations. I’m happy for you.” A small shot of envy zipped through him. He’d never considered how some people had children easily and others...didn’t. His heart ached for Harris.
Tough pointed to the hood. “Back your trailer in, and I’ll use the skid loader to lift it on.”
“Make sure he doesn’t park over the white line. Screws with my hearing aid when you’ve got something there. I get some kind of rap station playing on it.”
“He said that the last time I was here. Is that true?” Turbo asked Tough under his breath.
“Darn straight it’s true, you little whelp,” Al called from across the garage. “Ya think I’m a liar?”
“No, of course not.”
Tough shrugged. “Just watch the line. True or not, it’s not worth listening to the complaining.”
After hopping back in his pickup and backing the trailer up, stopping on the right side of the white line, Tough loaded the hood up. They strapped it down, while the old men argued about a technical detail in the checkers rulebook.
“How’s the play practice coming?” Tough asked.
Turbo had to hand it to him; he only smirked a little.
“Not bad.”
“I’m sorry we pushed you into it, but of anyone I know, you’re the biggest ham. You probably should have been an actor. If it weren’t for your ugly mug...” Tough pointed around his face.
“Oh, please. I just didn’t want to have to go around fake kissing women I don’t like.” Turbo was totally joking. He had trucks in his blood. He’d never leave his rig for Hollywood.
“Yeah, so how’s that kissing part going on the play?”
“Haven’t had to do it yet.”
Mr. Sigel had shuffled over. “Enjoy it while you can.”
“You gotta stick with one girl, Turbo. Don’t listen to this old coot,” Al said with a nod at Mr. Sigel.
“Yeah, I’m the one-girl type. Just have to find a girl I’m good enough for,” Turbo mumbled. If only.
“What about that little redhead you were running around with?” Mr. Sigel asked before jumping one of Al’s black checkers.
“How’d you know I was running around with anyone?” Turbo countered.
Tough shoved his hands in his pockets. “They gossip every day with the quilting club. It’s almost a competition as to who knows what first.”
“Do they know Kelly’s pregnant?” Mr. Sigel asked.
Tough rolled his eyes and shook his head. “See?”
“We’ll have to make a trip down there later.” Mr. Sigel said.
Turbo grinned and waved. “I’m headed there now. I’ll probably forget and tell them myself.”
“Hey, wait a second, I’ll ride along.” Mr. Sigel grabbed his cane and hobbled toward the passenger side door.
“Think I’ll go too.” Al was a little more spry and made it to the front door first.
“Hey. I called it. You ride in the back.”
“I’m here first. Make me.”
Turbo grinned. “What are they doing up so early anyway?”
“They have a sixth sense about these things. Always seem to know when something’s going down.”
“I see.” Turbo turned in time to see Harris’s small car pulling up outside the garage along the sidewalk. His heart started hitting in his chest like the pistons in a hot engine. He didn’t even finish his conversation with Tough but moved out, his eyes on the red-haired woman who was stepping from her car.
“Good morning.” She pushed her hair back and smiled up at him. So beautiful she made his eyes hurt.
“It just got better.”
Her smile widened. “You never said anything about picking me up, and you didn’t answer my text, so I came here.”
He patted his pants’ pocket. “Phone’s in the cab.”
She tilted her head. “Is it okay that I’m here?”
“I wanted to let you sleep, but I’d rather have you with me.” He opened the driver’s side door of his truck and stuck his head in. “My girl’s riding in the front.”
“They can drive my car over if they want,” Harris said.
“Can’t. Ungrateful kids took my license.”
“Bunch of spoiled bums,” Al said. “When I hear my kids are coming, I hide mine in a cup of water in the freezer. They haven’t found it yet. I’ll drive.” He patted Mr. Sigel’s shoulder. “You can ride with me. Kids don’t appreciate nothing anymore.”
“You got that right.” T
he old men put their arms around each other’s shoulders and shuffled toward Harris’s car. “Let’s get out of here. If we leave first, we’ll be able to break the news about Tough’s baby to the quilters ourselves.” They cackled together before creaking slowly into Harris’s car.
Harris’s eyes slammed back to him. “Kelly’s pregnant?”
Turbo shrugged. “Guess so.”
Harris stared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t she tell me?” She looked past him to Tough. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Then she rolled her eyes. “Never mind.” Tough didn’t talk much.
Turbo held his hands up at Harris’s accusatory tone. “I just found out. Like minutes ago.”
Tough had walked back over to the coffee counter. “Want some joe?”
“Not him,” one of the old men called from outside the garage. They had to be indicating Turbo.
Turbo grinned at Harris. “You want someone else besides Joe?”
“Maybe.” She lifted her head, and he didn’t hesitate, kissing her sweetly and a little long.
He broke the kiss off with them both a little breathless and, putting a hand around her waist, threw a hand up at Tough. “See you later. Thanks for the hood.”
“I’ll send you a bill.”
“Ha. It’s been paid.”
“Guess we’ll see if you actually show up on opening night.” Tough smirked. He stretched. “It’s early, and the old men are gone. I’m going back to bed for a while.”
“I notice you didn’t say back to sleep.”
Tough just grinned and walked into his office. His small apartment connected to the other side.
Harris’s body had stiffened, and Turbo thought back. “I’m showing up.”
“I know.”
He took a hold of her shoulders. “No. I’m really showing up.”
She cupped his face with her hand. “I know you are.”
It didn’t take long to drive to Torque’s. Harris jumped out and ran into the garage, opening the overhead door so Turbo could back his trailer in, parking in front of the truck.
It was barely seven a.m., but the quilting club was already seated at their chairs, with Mr. Sigel and Al busy whispering as the ladies’ needles flew in and out.
Serious Fun Page 13