Sugar Creek (20 page)

She pulled in her breath. Oh God, he thought
that
was the problem? “Mike, no.” And sure, maybe in the beginning she’d thought he was some blowhard, small time cop, even if he
was
sexy as hell—but now she couldn’t deny that he was smart, and funny, and…well, maybe she even thought he was pretty darn strong, knowing what he’d gone through in his youth. And yeah, she’d had plenty of moments when she’d looked down on Destiny—but never him. She grabbed his hand, shook her head. “I swear. It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

How could she explain? She let out a breath—and tried. “It’s this place, this town.” She shook her head helplessly. “It’s making me a little crazy.”

Mike let out a sigh. “I need more to go on, Rachel.”

So she bit her lip and tried harder, reached deeper into the truth, even though it was difficult to let herself confide in him so unexpectedly. “I…really did see leaving here after high school as an escape. And I’ve worked hard to build a life I’m proud of in Chicago.” She struggled to find more words, more explanation, and finally she came back to what she’d realized at the park last weekend. “Somehow, being back here just makes me feel…like I’m going backward in life. Does that make any sense?”

“Not much,” he said, still unsmiling, his eyes seeming to probe hers. “Unless…you’re afraid something might happen to make you end up staying here.”

At which she gasped. It was an absurd thought. “No. No—there’s nothing that could.”

An expression she couldn’t read passed briefly over his face—before he tilted his head toward hers. “Then can I give you some advice?”

Advice from Mike Romo. Would wonders never cease? “Okay.”

“Quit taking it all so seriously, for God’s sake.” Then his gaze locked on hers again. “And stop denying you’re into me. It’s silly. Now let’s go have some birthday cake, okay?”

When Grandma Romo’s house came into view down the country road, Mike could see that cars already filled the yard. Every Romo in the county and beyond was here—all of Mike’s aunts and uncles and cousins. And, of course, his mom and dad.

As he found a spot to squeeze in the Caddy, he also squeezed Rachel’s knee. “You ready for this, Farris?”

She glanced over at him. “I might be more ready if my name weren’t Farris.”

He gave her a smile. Things had gotten a little intense back in the barn—during the sex, and after it as well, but it was time to move on. “Forget about that today. Your job here isn’t to be a Farris—it’s to get my parents off my back about settling down.”

“As always, Romo, you really know how to romance a girl.”

He lifted one eyebrow. “You never strike me as a girl who
wants
romance.”

“True enough,” she agreed, and for some reason, the response disappointed him a little. That quick, the sweet, vulnerable Rachel was gone. But he truly
had
come to like this version of her as well—her confidence, her wry wit—so he pushed aside any hint of emotion he felt and prepared for the onslaught of hellos and introductions.

It started with a bunch of kids—his cousin’s children, the ones his own children would’ve been playing with if he had any, and who were probably already reminding his mother of that with their very presence. “Hey, Uncle Mike!” “Wow, look at Uncle Mike’s car,” they called, just
the way sixteen-year-old Kristen had addressed him at the donkey ball game, even though he wasn’t really their uncle.

Mike explained to the younger kids that they were actually looking at late Grandpa Romo’s car, from when he first came to America back in the fifties, and then he introduced Rachel. Not one of them batted an eye at her last name being Farris, which told Mike the old feud hadn’t made its way down to the youngest generation of Romos.

Some weird sense of protection compelled him to take Rachel’s hand as he led her up into the yard where the adults milled about, chatting and snacking, and where Grandma Romo sat under a shady maple tree in a white wicker chair, near a table piled with presents. Fortunately, Mike’s mom had offered to add his name to theirs—and Mike figured just bringing a girl to the event was gift enough. Although he feared his grandma might not feel the same way once she found out who he’d brought.

He headed toward his parents upon spotting them near Grandma Romo. They’d left Destiny and moved to Florida well over ten years ago, but to Mike, it still felt strange. In most families, the kid grew up and moved away. In his, it had happened the other way around. And whenever he saw them, particularly his mom, he still read in her face everything she never said.
I’m smiling, but I still miss her. I’m better than I used to be, but it still hurts.

That’s when she looked up, her face brightening at the sight of him. “Mike!” she called, hopping up from a lawn chair near his grandmother to give him a tight hug he felt all the way to his bones. Still fit and trim for her age, his mother looked good wearing what he thought of as the official female uniform in Destiny: a pretty, flowery dress.

It was funny—when he’d met Rachel, he’d liked that she didn’t fit that typical Destiny mold. But today he liked that she
did
. Or maybe that she could. Or maybe that she
had
, that she’d cared enough about today to want to. He hadn’t
meant to act so blown away when he’d first seen her—but he hadn’t expected her to look so beautiful. And already, she fit in here, without having yet uttered a word, since this was how Destiny ladies generally dressed—like life was a garden party. Yet at the same time she
stood out
—because, again, she appeared so pretty and self-assured.

“Mom, this is Rachel. Rachel, my mother, Nancy.”

And as Rachel greeted her, all confidence, his mother appeared…way too overjoyed. But then, that was the plan, wasn’t it? The whole point of bringing Rachel? And for the first time it occurred to him that, shit, Logan’s little “bring a date” plan here could backfire if everyone assumed this was something serious.

In fact, before he could stop it, his mother was pulling Rachel by the arm, away from him and into a circle of people, including his dad and Grandma Romo, to say, “Everyone, this is Mike’s girlfriend, Rachel.”

Girlfriend? Aw, hell. He just closed his eyes and shook his head, preparing to swoop in and fix things. Now he remembered why he didn’t bring dates to Romo parties—and why it was better to be harassed about it than to let his family jump to conclusions, especially his mother. Even if it
was
nice to see her suddenly looking so…well,
sincerely
happy. Not the fake happy he could see through so easily. Nope, his mom was thrilled to the tips of her toes that he’d shown up with a girl.

“A pleasure to meet you, Rachel,” Grandma Romo said, still sporting a thick Italian accent even after all these years. “Are you from Destiny? What’s your last name, dear? We Romos know everyone in Destiny.”

At this, Mike thought Rachel would at least freeze up a little, maybe glance his way for help. But she shocked the hell out of him by putting on a friendly smile and speaking as boldly as if the Romo/Farris feud didn’t exist. “Yes, I grew up in Destiny, but now I live in Chicago. I’m home for a visit with my grandmother—Edna Farris.
My parents, Dean and Carol Farris, live in Chicago now, too—but were born and raised here.”

Now
Mike
froze, waiting to see what happened. And for a long moment, no one said anything, just sat or stood looking at Rachel, wide-eyed. Rachel, though, remained totally calm and cool, as if nothing awkward was taking place.

Finally, it was Mike’s mom who moved things along. “I think I went to school with your mother, Rachel. Carol Harney was her name then, right?”

Rachel turned back to her with a big smile. “That’s right.”

And the next thing Mike knew, conversation resumed—people went back to talking among themselves, and some with Rachel, even acting fairly normal and polite. One of his aunts complimented her dress, and then a big discussion about the Daisy Dress Shop started and Mike realized Rachel didn’t even need him around to move comfortably among his family.

He still wasn’t sure what had driven him to bring her to the party, why he’d fought for that so hard, but he suddenly couldn’t help thinking he’d made a good choice. And the fact was, as he continued hanging back, watching her, he felt…weirdly proud to be with her.

Just then his dad slapped him on the back. “A Farris, huh?” he said, laughing.

Mike just nodded, glad his dad was more amused than mad, given that, as Giovanni’s oldest son, he would have inherited the orchard.

His dad looked a little
less
amused, though, when he asked, “Did you give any thought to how your grandma might feel about that?”

Mike replied honestly. “Not really. Because Rachel doesn’t have anything to do with whatever happened back then, and neither do I. I figure I should be able to bring who I want to a party.”

Mike’s father shrugged. “That’s true, I suppose.” Then he even elbowed Mike in the ribs. “And I guess I don’t blame you—that girl’s a looker.”

As the party wore on, Mike barely saw Rachel—she was too busy off talking to other women. And occasionally, one of his cousins or an uncle would come up and say something like, “Dating a Farris, huh?” or “I can’t believe you brought a Farris girl here,” but their tone said everything he needed to hear: They might not like that she was a Farris, but they were clearly impressed and had ended up looking beyond her name.

Of course, as he watched her, he noticed she was nicer to his family than she generally was to
him
.

And he couldn’t quit pondering the question that plagued him: What was it about Rachel Farris that made him so crazy?

As he sat beneath a tree eating a piece of birthday cake, listening to his uncles reminisce about Giovanni’s Cadillac, Mike ticked off some logical reasons. One—he wasn’t used to being with a woman so mouthy. Two—he wasn’t used to a woman who turned him down for dates. Three—he wasn’t used to a woman who wanted the sex part without any romance, even though that would usually be fine with him. And…mainly, he decided, he wasn’t used to wanting to be with someone whose life, whose world, seemed so very different from his.

Except, was all that enough to explain it? Or did he need to revisit that moment—the one where he’d thought he might have the capacity to…care about her? Mike didn’t open himself up to people—he didn’t
let himself
care. His parents, his grandma, Logan, and some of his relatives—that completed the list of people he seriously cared about in this world. Because caring was…risky. He’d learned that early in life. So was it even remotely possible he’d let himself start caring about Rachel Farris?

Nah. Not that fast. He gave his head a brisk shake. And
not with a girl who’d made it so clear she didn’t want anything from him except maybe an occasional orgasm.

Still, his post-sex lethargy in the car earlier forced him to ask…did that mean this was the first time he’d been
totally, completely
consumed by sex? The first time he’d ever been
that
into it? He loved sex, so…was that even
possible
? But how else could he explain the reaction? And what about Rachel made him so crazy that…goddamn it, he’d forgotten to use a condom.

That
was a first.

And worse than breaking a law, in Mike’s opinion. “Shit,” he muttered.

Conversation around him halted and every cousin and uncle in the group stared at him.

“Sorry,” he groused. “Just…remembered something I forgot to do.” Which was putting it mildly.

Wow, what a day. Rachel slid into the big turquoise car, almost overwhelmed.

Not only had Mike had his way with her in a barn after she’d vowed not to let it happen—but he’d actually broken the law to do it! Somehow, from him, that had seemed the ultimate compliment.

Of course, then she’d been forced to get all serious with him, trying to explain her crazy emotions, which had sort of sucked.

But then she’d spent the afternoon charming the entire Romo clan, which had gone shockingly well. Even Grandma Romo had started being nice by the time it was over.

As Mike stretched his arm across the back of the seat, looking over his shoulder to back the huge car from its spot in the yard, Rachel didn’t hesitate to scoot over next to him again. She instantly wanted to be near him and, for a change, decided not to stop herself or question the move. She was in too good a mood and felt too proud
of herself. And maybe she should follow Mike’s advice and quit taking this thing with him so seriously, quit succumbing to that “being sucked back into Destiny” feeling whenever she was close to him.

“Well, I can’t deny it, Farris,” Mike said, pulling out onto the road, “that was impressive. I had no idea you could be that nice to people you expect not to like you.”

She smiled up at him—again, too pleased to be sarcastic or curt right now. “I just thought of it like my job, like walking into a boardroom full of corporate bigwigs I have to win over. Although, frankly, I was impressed with me, too. Since I
was
nervous.”

“Really? It didn’t show.”

“More thanks to my job,” she told him.

Mike focused on the road, but she sensed him hesitating—until he finally said, “Well…thanks. For being nice to my family.”

The sincerity in his voice touched Rachel in a way she couldn’t have anticipated. And it also made her wonder—had he really thought she’d be mean to them? Did she come off
that
awful? Maybe she did. “I
am
nice,” she said, realizing that maybe he didn’t actually know that.

Next to her, he nodded. “Sometimes. And more to other people than to me.”

Okay, she supposed she couldn’t argue with that. He’d seen more of her bad side than her good. “But I can say the same thing about you.”

To her surprise, he gave another short nod, eyes still on the road yet looking almost contrite. “Logan told me I should be nicer to you.” Then he peered down at her. “So, why
are
we always so…not nice to each other?”