A Dad At Last (5 page)

And his mother smiling at all of them.

At him.

It felt so strange to him. He'd lost one mother, a mother he cared about a great deal, almost two years ago, only to discover that she had lied to him. She hadn't been his mother at all, and he had another mother, his real mother, who was still alive.

Would he be able to trust anyone again? Connor
had no answer for that. He knew what his heart said, but his heart was still too raw to listen to.

And then Megan was beside him, her arm threaded through his, a wide, almost beatific smile on her lips. Maybe, in time, it would work itself all out, he thought. Until then, he'd just let things ride and be an observer.

Megan's eyes were smarting as she watched her other children open their arms and their hearts to this man who was in fact a stranger to them, all embracing him because he was part of her. Her heart swelled within her mother's breast. They were a good bunch, these children of hers.

Abby leaned in to her until her cheek was touching Megan's. “Are you crying, Mother?”

Overhearing, Jake didn't wait for her answer. He dug into his pocket and slipped his mother a handkerchief.

Nodding her gratitude, Megan dabbed at her eyes. “We did a good job, your father and I, raising all of you.” She folded the handkerchief and handed it back to Jake. “You've done me proud tonight.”

“Nothing less than you deserve, Mom,” Beth assured her quietly.

Jake slipped his arm around his mother's waist, pulling her closer. When she looked at him in surprise, he asked in a stage whisper, “So, Mom, is there anything else we should know?”

“A secret life as an international jewel thief, perhaps?” Abby asked, suppressing a grin.

“No secret life,” Megan swore, crossing her heart. “And no other secrets—among any of us.”

“Well, I for one am relieved everything's out in the open,” Jake declared, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Standing on the sidelines, Lacy watched Connor's reaction to this emotional outpouring. Anyone else might have looked overjoyed, but not Connor. If anything, he seemed uncomfortable at the attention his newfound family was giving him. If he had his druthers, she knew he would have preferred to vanish.

That made them different, she thought. If she had just discovered that she had a big, loving family willing to welcome her with open arms, she would have felt like singing. He looked as if he felt like fleeing.

But then, Connor had always been a loner. Clarise had seen to that. He'd been so loyal to her, he hadn't realized that she'd given him a twisted sense of what was important in life. Lacy had a feeling that Clarise had never taught Connor to take pleasure in the simple joy that being around people who loved you brought.

Looking at the people around him now, she could only think that Connor didn't realize how lucky he was.

Their eyes met across the table.

Having caught her attention, he nodded toward the side, indicating that he wanted to talk to her.

Probably to upbraid her for going to talk to Janelle after everything that had happened, Lacy thought. She knew he considered the other woman dangerous and obviously felt Lacy couldn't handle herself.

Not that he had proof to the contrary, Lacy mused. After all, Janelle had manipulated her. But Janelle had managed to manipulate everyone to a greater or lesser degree. And besides, that was the old Lacy. She'd done a lot of growing this past year. Never mind that some of it had been as Sara, the woman she'd been when her memory was gone. She'd kept with her all the experiences that Sara had gone through, all the lessons that Sara had learned. They had helped forge a backbone for her that wasn't easily bent.

Not even for a man she loved.

Politely extracting himself from these strangers who had become, through the whimsy of fate, his siblings, Connor sidestepped his mother. Megan took his place in the center of the circle, filling the void. He expected nothing less. Ever since he'd arrived here, it seemed to Connor that there had been endless talking and activity around him.

The Maitlands certainly didn't value their quiet time, he thought.

Taking Lacy by the arm, he guided her out of the
room to the adjacent living room, mercifully leaving the din behind.

“I need to talk to you.”

He sounded tense. Despite promises to herself to let him have his say and remain calm, Lacy felt her back go up.

“If this is about going to see Janelle—”

He cut her off before she could start. “No, this isn't about going to see Janelle.” He set his jaw. “It's about the future. Yours and mine.”

Connor's stoic expression baffled her. Lacy hadn't a clue what he was trying to say. “You know, for a man who's just been taken into the bosom of a loving family, you don't look like you feel very happy.”

He was honest with her. Of everyone in the house, she was the one who at least had a history with him. As well as a son.

Knowing he had a child only added to his tangled web of emotions.

“I don't know what I feel right now. Confused, mostly,” he admitted before his face hardened again. “But that's my problem.”

He was shutting her out again. Why did she expect anything different? Lacy silently upbraided herself. “Right, I remember. You're very big about defining borders. I won't trespass on your problem.” For two cents, she would have taken her fists and beaten some sense into his hard head. “Now what is it you want to talk to me about?”

He thought of the deed that was still hot in his pocket. “I bought a ranch this afternoon.”

Lacy could only stare at him. He hadn't said anything to anyone about wanting to buy property. “You did what?”

“Bought a ranch,” he repeated. “It's down the road from Garrett Lord's place.” Garrett had gone with him to look at it. It had taken only ten minutes for him to make up his mind. They'd gone to a lawyer to draw up papers this afternoon. “The guy who owned it had been thinking about selling it for a long time, and I figured that since I've just found my real mother, maybe I should stick around here for the time being. There's nothing for me in Montana.”

“Montana? Is that where you went off to?” He'd disappeared right after she'd left the ranch. No wonder it had been impossible for her to contact him once she'd decided to give it one last try.

Montana. Somehow, that suited him, she thought. Vast stretches of land where you wouldn't come across another living soul if you didn't want to. It was Connor's kind of country.

“Yeah.” He didn't want to talk about where he'd been. He needed to talk about where he was going, before common sense kicked in and prevented him from doing what he knew he needed to do. “Look, that part doesn't matter. I bought a ranch and there's a house on it, ready to be moved into.” Damn it, she wasn't following him. He could see it in her eyes.
“What I'm trying to say is that I think, taking everything into consideration, it'd be best if we got married.”

For the second time in the space of an hour, Lacy felt her jaw slacken and her mouth drop open.

“B
EST
,”
Lacy repeated slowly, finally getting the use of her tongue back.

“Well, yeah.” Uncomfortable, Connor wasn't sure if she was agreeing with him or just echoing the word he'd used. “For Chase.” He turned his back so that it shielded them from any prying eyes should someone come into the room looking for them. By his reckoning, it bought them a couple of seconds. Judging by the unreadable expression on her face, he had a feeling he was going to need them. “He's got a right to grow up in something besides one room in a boarding house.”

Something set to flower within her withered. “And that's why you want to marry me? To give Chase more rooms to grow up in?”

Her voice was low, hardly above a whisper, as numbness temporarily took her newfound strength away.

He didn't want her.

Well, what did she expect? her mind mocked. How many different ways did she need to be told, to be shown that Connor didn't love her—would never
love her? She had to focus on what was important here. Her feelings couldn't take priority. At least Connor was a decent man who cared about the welfare of his son and wanted to take care of not only his son, but his son's mother, too. At the very least, she could have been excluded from the package.

It wasn't enough.

She said the word she never thought she would in response to a proposal from Connor. It was the most difficult word she'd ever uttered.

“No.”

Astonished, he could only stare at her. The foundations for all his plans threatened to break apart, like plastic bricks left out too many days in the hot sun.

Maybe he'd heard wrong. “No?”

Her throat felt dry. The word crawled out again, sharp and scratchy. “No.” She drew in a deep breath, feeling as if she was choking. “No, I won't marry you, Connor. Not to get real estate.” Did he think so little of her that he'd imagine she'd sell herself so cheaply? She didn't need him for money. She needed him for many reasons, but money was not one of them. “And you don't have to worry about Chase being trapped in one room.” A hint of sarcasm infiltrated her voice, though she hadn't meant it to. “By the time he notices the difference, I'll be earning enough to rent an apartment. Maybe even a small
house. Shelby said I'm bringing them in at the diner. I'm sure that in time—”

Damn it, why couldn't she just say yes instead of giving him grief? He was trying to do the right thing here. “There's no need to wait for time—”

She drew herself up to her full height, her eyes meeting his. It suddenly occurred to him that she would make a worthy opponent, if it came to that. The woman was not the shy, retiring violet she'd been when she left his house. A vague stirring of admiration began to poke its way forward.

“There is for me.”

Still, there was a small boy's life at stake here. “Maybe you shouldn't be thinking just about you. Maybe you should think about Chase.” He looked at her pointedly. Under no circumstances did he want her to know that he found her more attractive than ever. That if he wasn't so damn honorable, he'd give in to feelings that were circling him like hungry vultures, waiting for a break in his vigilance. “I am.”

She would have felt the slap no less hard if he'd actually used his hand. “Right. And you're making a magnificent sacrifice, tying yourself to me just to make certain your son has a decent place to live.”

Damn it, she was putting words into his mouth. “Lacy, it's not like that.”

She raised her chin pugnaciously, daring him to prove her wrong. “No? Then tell me what it's like, Connor. Please, tell me what it's like. Is it horrible,
like having needles stuck in your eyes, or just unpleasant, like the sound of a dentist's drill starting up near you?”

He knew where she was going with this. Frustrated because he wanted to touch her no matter what his common sense told him, Connor shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Lacy, we've been all through this. I won't—I can't let myself have any feelings for you. Look what happened the last time.”

Did he have any idea how hurtful he was being? Only anger kept her tears back. “Right. Disaster. Chase was conceived.”

Now that he'd seen him, held him, he didn't consider the conception of his son a disaster, not for him. But the timing left a great deal to be desired, especially for Lacy.

“And your whole life was turned upside down,” he added.

It had been, when she'd been handed that letter and the envelope with severance pay that Janelle had said came from Connor. But that, too, she realized, had been part of Janelle's plan. It was behind her now that the truth was finally coming out. “That was partly Janelle's doing. We both know that now.”

He blocked out the other woman's name, wishing he could have blocked out her existence, as well. The less he thought about the harm she could have inflicted on all their lives, the better. There was no
point in going over the past, only the future. And his couldn't be the way he would have wanted it to be had he been irresponsible. “Lacy, I'm too old for you—”

“Oh, right.” Excuses. The same flimsy excuses he'd given her before. The morning after they'd made love that first and only time. “One foot in the grave—I forgot.”

Turning away so he wouldn't see the tears that were forming in her eyes, Lacy dragged her hand through her hair. What was she doing? Begging him to love her? She knew he didn't. Even now, he was saying he couldn't. All the reasons in the world wouldn't change his feelings if he had any for her. But he didn't. What he had was a sense of ethics. He was just being responsible.

The Maitlands were powerful people. What if he decided to use their power to take her to court and legally take Chase away from her? She liked the Maitlands, and they seemed to like her, but Connor and Chase were their blood. She was just the woman on the outside. She couldn't risk losing her baby yet again.

Besides, she did intend to remain in Austin so that Chase could have what she'd never had—a large extended family who cared for him.

This was, she supposed, the best possible deal she could be offered. But she couldn't accept it as it was. It needed some modifications.

Her back still to him, she gave him his answer. “I won't marry you.”

The answer stung. And then Connor realized that she was crying. He could tell by the set of her shoulders, and he longed to take her into his arms, to wipe away the tears he knew had to be staining her cheeks. But that would be starting something he couldn't allow himself to finish.

“Lacy—”

Quickly wiping away the errant tears that had escaped with the heel of her hand, Lacy turned to look at him. Her head was held high, partly to impede the flow of tears, partly to put on a brave front.

She continued as if Connor hadn't interrupted. “But there's no reason to punish Chase and deny him things that he's entitled to just because you and I don't love each other.”

She didn't love him.

This was what he wanted, to be assured that there were no emotional ties between them, not even a glimmer.

So why did it hurt to hear her reiterate exactly what he'd just mouthed? Why did his heart feel as if someone had stuck a hot branding iron across it, burning in a large, gaping hole instead of an insignia?

His eyes pinned her to the wall. “What are you saying?”

She told him as simply as possible. “That Chase and I will move in with you—as long as you give
me a job.” That was her condition. She had to earn her own way. He owed things to Chase, a multitude of things. He owed her only respect.

“A job?”

“Yes.” Thoughts fell together as she spoke. “The same one I had with you before would be appropriate, I think.” With effort, she kept her voice light, as if she was merely discussing contract negotiations, not her future. “Besides, cooking is something we both know I'm good at, even when someone bashes me in the head and I forget everything else. If you'd like, I can also keep house—”

He didn't want her waiting on him, didn't want her feeling like an employee. Whatever else, she wasn't that. Not any longer. “Lacy—”

Deliberately, she ignored the protest in his voice. “Although I'll expect more money for that. A housekeeper should be paid more than a mere cook.”

There was no talking her out of it. He could tell by the set of her jaw that she was stubbornly determined to do it her way. And maybe, in a way, he was relieved. If Lacy were his wife, even in name only, he might be tempted, sorely tempted, to make love with her again. To make the title a reality. Maybe he could hold out for a while, but not forever. Not when she looked at him like that.

He'd already promised himself not to compound one mistake with another. If they weren't married, not touching her would be easier.

Or so he told himself.

“Don't worry about the money,” he told her, doling out his words slowly. “You'll be well taken care of.”

But not the way she wanted to be, Lacy thought, unhappiness welling inside her. Grasping at her hurt and turning it into something she could work with, she cloaked herself in bravado.

“Yes, you always were a generous man.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and thrust out her hand. This was a business deal, pure and simple. “All right, it's official. I now pronounce us man and cook.”

Connor found his hand surrounding hers.

He had no idea what possessed him. He was home free, or almost there. She was giving him what he wanted without his having to give up anything. It should have been all right.

Maybe it was the press of her hand against his. Maybe it was the scent of her perfume, softly, delicately swirling around his senses, infiltrating them like silent militia creeping lightly into enemy territory in the middle of the night.

Or maybe, somewhere in his iron heart, he had carried around the feel of her lips for almost two years.

Whatever the reason, Connor found himself pulling Lacy closer to him than he should have, their hands still joined.

The next moment, it was their lips that were joined, as well, and a flood of all those feelings he told himself were firmly under control suddenly washed over him. Drenching him. Snatching his breath away.

For the briefest of moments, without thinking of any of the consequences, Connor discovered himself hungrily getting lost in what he had remembered so vividly despite all his efforts not to. Her kiss, all sweetness and giving, undid him. Made him wish with all his heart that there weren't a score of years separating them. That he was free to be as young as she made his heart feel.

He didn't want to want her.

But he did.

Lacy wanted to push him away. She wanted to drag him closer. She wanted this to go on forever, to be her reality and all the words he'd just said to the contrary to be the fantasy, the make-believe, instead of the other way around.

Most of all, Lacy realized, she wanted not to be at his mercy like this.

By all rights, she should shout at him and run away, negating any agreements just made. Severing all ties and fleeing with her child before she sacrificed her mind all over again, this time to a man who held her very soul in the palm of his hand. Held it there and didn't give a damn that he had the power to do so.

But Lacy remained where she was, feet firmly planted on the ground, savoring this because she knew it might not happen again and she needed it. Needed it more than the food on her plate or the air she breathed.

She knew that made her weak. Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to care. Not about that. Not yet.

With a soft sigh, she leaned into him, her fingers tangling in his hair, her soul tangling in the moment. The kiss deepened, threatening to take her under for the third time.

“Are congratulations in order?”

The voice wedged its way into the moment and brought reality, cold and hard, with it. Lacy felt the pang instantly. Connor had already jerked back from her. She tossed her head, making damn sure her eyes looked as if they were sparkling.

She stared straight at Jake. “Yes. Connor has just asked me to be his cook, and I've accepted.”

“Cook?” Jake damn well never saw anyone kiss their cook like that. Who did they think they were fooling? “Is that a euphemism?”

“No, that's a position,” Lacy answered brightly. “A position I can fill very capably, luckily for Connor.”

And then the full ramifications of what she was doing hit her. She caught her lip between her teeth, her eyes slanting toward Connor. She felt partially
vindicated in that he didn't look as if he were exactly capable of doing long division in his head at the moment. At least she wasn't the only one affected by what had just happened.

“But that means I'm going to have to tell Shelby I'm leaving. Unless, of course,” she said to Connor, “you don't mind having all your meals served either very, very early or very, very late.”

Why did she insist on going on with this charade? “I already told you,” Connor told her impatiently, “you won't have to worry about money—”

“Um, I think maybe I hear Camille calling for me upstairs,” Jake murmured. Part of being able to survive as long as he had with his skin intact was knowing to get out before things heated up too much. And there was definitely heat here.

Didn't Connor understand? Lacy thought, exasperated. “I wasn't thinking about money, I was thinking about loyalty. That's far more important.”

Connor failed to see the problem. “Shelby can find someone else to do the cooking at the diner. She did before.”

He made it sound as if she was completely expendable. As if anyone could easily fill her shoes. Did he really feel that way? “She says my cooking is what was bringing customers in.” Having given her word to Connor, she could not turn back. Lacy sighed. “But a deal's a deal.” And then an idea surfaced. “Maybe I can still make the pies for her and
send them in. You wouldn't mind your cook being a little enterprising on her own, would you?”