The Detective's 8 lb, 10 oz Surprise (10 page)

“Actually, things have been quiet where you're concerned,” Nick said. “Too quiet.” He narrowed his gaze on John. “Don't tell me you've fallen in love and only have one woman in your life?”

John grinned and ladled sauce on the round pizza dough. “I don't know about the love part, but I think some kind of weird sickness has come over me. I met someone and think about her all the time. I don't even want to see any other women.”

“Yeah, that's called love,” Nick said.

“Really?” John asked, his brow furrowing. “I'm in love? That's what this is?”

Nick half smiled, half rolled his eyes, wondering how John had gotten so far in life. He pulled out his phone and swiped to a photo of Timmy. “Do you recognize this baby?”

John paused in spreading around the sauce. “Yeah.”

Nick perked up. “From where?”

“I see that pretty Hurley chick with that baby all the time.”

Nick deflated again. “Had you ever seen this baby before seeing Georgia Hurley with him?”

“Don't all babies look alike?” John asked.

“Nope.”

“Really?” John asked. “Huh. That's twice you blew my mind today, man.”

Nick couldn't help smiling. John was a character, all right. “Are you absolutely positive you haven't gotten anyone pregnant lately? Say ten months ago?” He glanced at John's very blond hair. “A dark-haired woman?”

“I never go anywhere without a condom and a spare,” John said, generously layering cheese on the sauce. “I'm very careful.” He leaned close. “But do you want to know a secret?”

Nick stared at John, wondering if he was about to admit that Timmy could be his. “The woman I'm dating now has a little girl. They're a package deal, and that's fine with me. Oh man, I really must be in love.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “I just remembered they're coming in after school. I'm gonna make a smiley-face pizza for her.”

Huh. Nick always thought nothing could surprise him, and then something always did.

“Ever worry about what kind of father you'll be?” Nick asked before he could stop himself. “Being a bachelor for so long, I mean.”

“You kidding me? I'll be the best stepfather in town.”

Nick admired his confidence. “How do you know?”

“Well, first of all, I like kids. If I didn't I couldn't own a pizzeria. This place is all kids all the time. Second, yeah, I
do
love Lauren, my girlfriend. I mean, love with a capital
L
, you know? And don't tell anyone this, but I went to her daughter's dance recital at her camp the other day and I swear I got teary.
Me
.”

Nick had sat at quite a few of Avery's piano recitals and chorus concerts over the past two years, and he had always felt a surge of pride in his kid sister. Would a toddler concert of “It's A Small World” or whatever little kids sang make him choke up? He couldn't see it. “Maybe you've always been a big softie,” Nick said. But he knew that wasn't true. John Martin was anything but. A string of broken hearts was proof of that.

John placed generous rounds of pepperoni on the cheese. “I just met the right woman, I guess. Like everyone says will happen. When you meet the right person, you change because you want to. Because you have to. It kind of happens without your say-so, anyway.”

Nick wasn't changing. Was he? “Well, thanks, John. You've been a big help.” Maybe not with Timmy's mother, but with...big life questions.

John shot Nick his killer grin and slid the pizza in the oven. “Come back later and I'll hook you up with a slice of sausage and mushroom.”

Nick smiled and left, his stomach grumbling but not from hunger. He'd never been looking for the “right person.” He didn't want to marry or have kids. But yeah, then he'd met Georgia in Houston and there'd been something between them from the minute she opened the door, some kind of crazy energy, connection. He'd never felt that before. And when she walked away the next morning, hadn't he felt his heart crumble?

Maybe that was why he kept her at such a distance. Not because he didn't want to hurt her—of course he didn't. But because she had affected him that way. She had gotten to him. And no woman was allowed to.

If anyone had told him that John “Casanova” Martin would help him figure out why he was so...on edge around Georgia, he'd have laughed. But now he knew why.

Before Avery had come with her bombshell, Nick would have told himself he was leaving town soon, anyway. He'd see Georgia through the pregnancy and then settle back in Houston or maybe Dallas for a change and he'd keep in close contract with Georgia and come visit twice a month.

Twice-a-month fatherhood. That didn't sound right.

Neither did all-the-time fatherhood.

Except he'd created a child with Georgia, was bringing a life into this world, and there was no way in hell he'd shirk his responsibilities or make a child feel that his father wasn't there for him. That his father didn't love him.

So now what?

For the time being he had to deal with his sister, set her straight, get Quentin Says on his side. Then he'd figure out how the heck he was going to be the father he
had
to be.

* * *

At the square table facing the Sweet Briar Mountain Range in Hurley's Homestyle Kitchen, Georgia sat next to Nick—who was ramrod stiff, his expression trademark stony—with his sister and her boyfriend across from them. Annabel was babysitting Timmy at her home, so she and Nick were off duty baby-wise.

“So we have news,” Avery said, pushing her long dark hair behind her shoulders. She sat up straight and linked her arm through Quentin's, then leaned over to kiss his cheek. “We're engaged!”

“No, you're not,” Nick said, his voice like ice. “You're in college. Studying to become a music teacher. That's what you are.”

Avery glared at Nick. She reached into her purse, pulled out a gold ring with a tiny but lovely diamond embedded in the setting and slid it on her finger. “I am engaged,” she repeated, holding up her hand. “I didn't want you to see the ring before Quentin and I could tell you together. I don't know why I considered your feelings. You don't consider mine.”

Georgia eyed Quentin. He didn't shrink from Nick's glowering glare. He sat tall in his chair, his arm around Avery. He and Avery made a beautiful couple. Quentin had a mop of sandy brown hair and clear blue eyes, matching dimples beside his mouth. He was tall and lanky like Avery.

“Dude,” Quentin began, looking at Nick. Avery nudged him in the side with her elbow. “I mean, sir.” He cleared his throat. “Sir, I know we're young. But I love Avery with all my heart. I've loved her since my junior year. She's the world to me, and luckily she feels the same about me. So we decided to get engaged. Your blessing is very important to Avery.”

Nick sipped his water as if to have something to do besides imploding. “Well, she's not getting it. You're both too young to get married. You're eighteen, for Pete's sake. What is the damned rush?”

“There's no rush,” Avery said. “We're doing what feels right to us. Nick, I'm engaged and we're moving to Nashville to focus on my career as a country singer. I'd like your support before we go.”

Nick turned his glare on Quentin. “And what exactly will you be doing while Avery is auditioning and trying to become a country star?”

“I'll be her support system,” Quentin responded. “My cousin lives in Nashville and has offered me a job as a production assistant at the record company he works for. Yes, I'll be starting from the bottom, but I've always been passionate about the music industry and it's a good in for Avery. Dude, she's
so
talented.” He shook his head. “I mean, sir. She really is. I know she'll make it.”

“Have y'all decided what you'll have?” the waitress, a sweet young woman named Lizzie, interrupted.

Perfect timing. They all needed a break. Everyone glanced at the menu, but they all knew every dish by heart and exactly what they wanted.

Nick leaned back, his expression still stony. Avery and Quentin ordered the ribs for two. Georgia had a craving for a burger so she went with that, and Nick chose the blackened catfish special.

“Any luck finding Timmy's mother?” Avery asked, a change of subject that was welcome.

“Not yet,” Nick said, barely looking at her. “I'm working on it.”

“She must think about Timmy all the time,” Quentin said. “Avery filled me in. I can't imagine how it must feel to leave someone you love behind.”

Georgia glanced at Quentin. He was young, but he seemed smart and kind. What he'd said made her think of herself on that Houston sidewalk, walking away from Nick.

For the next fifteen minutes, there were bursts of stilted silences that either Georgia or Quentin tried to fill by asking innocuous questions, and Georgia couldn't help finding Quentin endearing as he struggled to ask Nick questions about being a detective, only forgetting not to call him
dude
twice more. Nick's answers were brief, but Quentin's interested, intelligent conversation seemed to soften Nick just a bit.

As their entrées arrived, Nick was clearly relieved to have something to do besides glare at his sister and her fiancé. Avery kept the conversation focused on questions about Timmy and told funny stories about her former after-school job as a babysitter for a six-month-old who had a huge laugh. But every time Avery picked up her fork or her glass of iced tea, her ring flashed, and Georgia would catch Nick glance at it and feel him tense beside her.

Finally, coffee and dessert declined, Avery and Quentin stood up.

Avery smiled at Georgia. “I'm so glad I met you. And thank you for joining us for dinner.” She turned to Nick. “As Quentin said, Nick, your blessing is very important to me. But we're leaving on Sunday with or without it.” With that she came around to hug Georgia, pressed a kiss to her brother's stony cheek, then took Quentin's hand and they left.

Nick dropped back down in his chair. “How could she do this? How could she ruin her life?”

Georgia sipped her herbal iced tea. “I'm not so sure she
is
ruining her life. She has a dream and she's going for it. That's pretty exciting. And she's engaged. That means Quentin isn't just some boyfriend who'll disappear from her life. They're committed and they have a life plan. Yeah, maybe it won't work out. Maybe she won't become the next big thing. But trying is everything, Nick.”

He stared at her as though she'd said the craziest thing he'd ever heard. “You can't possibly think they're doing the right thing.”

“Well, I'm just saying they sound mature about what they're doing.”

“They're eighteen! Avery belongs in school. She's going to become a music teacher. She can always go on auditions. But if that doesn't work out, she'll have a steady, secure career doing what she loves.”

Georgia put her hand on his forearm. “Like you said, she's eighteen. She has dreams and you've raised her to have confidence.”

Nick frowned. “Let's change the subject. To nothing.”

Georgia offered a commiserating smile. “How about we go pick up Timmy from Annabel and West's house?”

Nick sighed.

Chapter Ten

A
nnabel and West Montgomery lived on a ranch about ten miles out from the center of town. As Nick drove up the long drive to the property, Georgia could see Annabel, West and West's five-year-old daughter, Lucy, at the fence of the pony pasture a short distance from the white farmhouse. From the way Annabel's arms were positioned, it was clear she was holding Timmy. A brown-and-white pony sniffed at Lucy's hand, and as the car got closer, Georgia could see the pony gently taking a carrot.

This was what Georgia dreamed of. Family. Georgia, her husband and their son feeding ponies, chasing after the dog they'd adopt from the shelter, going for a walk to the ice-cream parlor. Family. Sure, Georgia and her son would be a family of their own and she'd do all those things on her own. But what she would give to have Nick by her side, their side, part of that family. To her, family and love were such gifts, maybe even more so because she'd lost her parents. But so had Nick. And family represented something very different to him.

She'd learned a long time ago that there was no one way to look at something, one way to be, that there was no “just because.”
But to choose to be on your own when you could have...this
, she thought, watching her brother-in-law pull her sister to him for a hug, then swing his daughter up on his shoulders.

“I hear that West's therapeutic riding program for children is going really well,” Nick said as they parked. “His little girl certainly looks very happy.”

She wondered what he was thinking beyond what he'd said, if it registered that Lucy had lost her mother, that the ponies, along with her father's love and devotion to her, had helped her through that loss. West had started an official program to help other kids and adults, as well. Annabel, who knew what it was like to lose your parents, volunteered in the program. Georgia would like to, as well. Maybe once Timmy's mother was found and Nick's free time was once again his own, she'd bring up the idea of his volunteering in the program.

As West turned toward the car, Lucy excitedly asked to be put down and she raced over.

“Hi, Lucy!” Georgia said with a smile as she got out, holding a big white box containing a strawberry shortcake, a favorite of the little girl's. “Wait till you see what I brought for you all. I baked it this morning.”

“Ooh, does it have strawberries in it?” Lucy asked.

“It just might,” Georgia said, adoring her new niece. Annabel was crazy about her stepdaughter and working on adopting Lucy with the blessing of Lucy's maternal grandparents.

“Lucy, have you met Detective Nick Slater?” Georgia asked. “Detective Nick is a police officer.” The little girl had been a regular at Hurley's Homestyle Kitchen the past few months, but Essie had mentioned that Nick had stopped coming in until very recently. Because of her, she knew.

“I know Detective Nick from our class field trip to the police station,” Lucy said. “Plus, I saw him ordering a po'boy from Hurley's the other day when I was there.” Annabel had told Georgia that she often picked up Lucy after school and took her to Hurley's for mini cooking lessons as Annabel prepped for the dinner rush.

Nick laughed. “I do love po'boys. Nice to see you again, Lucy.”

“Lucy, will you lead the way to your parents?” Georgia asked. “I can't wait to see Timmy. I hope he was a good boy for you and your parents.”

Lucy gave a big nod. “He was. I like Timmy. He's so cute.”

“Very cute and no trouble at all,” Annabel said as the three of them reached the fence. She smiled at Georgia and Nick, then peered down at Timmy nestled in her arms. “I gave him a bottle at five and he's freshly changed. He likes looking at the ponies.”

Nick shook hands with West and smiled at Annabel. “Thanks for watching him for us.”

“Anytime,” West said. Georgia was looking forward to getting to know her brother-in-law better. The Montgomerys were clearly very much in love, and the sight of her sister so happy, the love shining in her eyes as she looked at her husband and stepdaughter, brought a comforting peace to Georgia.

As they left, Annabel and West were watching the ponies graze with Lucy between them. The three were holding hands.

“What a beautiful family,” Georgia said, her heart squeezing in her chest. “Annabel is blessed.”

Nick glanced over but didn't say anything. Georgia deflated a bit. Nick seemed no closer to becoming a family man than he had when Georgia first came back to Blue Gulch. And what he viewed as his sister's “defection” certainly didn't help him develop warm, fuzzy feelings toward the meaning of family.

Maybe she had to let the fantasy go. She just didn't want to.

* * *

After putting Timmy down in his bassinet in her bedroom, Georgia found herself craving a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. Surely, Nick had peanut butter and jelly in his cupboards. If not, she just might have to walk over to the grocery store or go over to Hurley's.

She slipped out of her room and headed down the hall, expecting to find Nick in the living room, going over his notes on his cases, trying to find some connection he'd missed to who might possibly be Timmy's mother.

But the living room was empty. She walked into the kitchen to find him sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and holding a photograph in a frame.

Georgia glanced at it. Nick and Avery at Avery's high school graduation. His sister wore her gold cap and dark blue gown, all smiles. Nick looked very proud.

“From this to Nashville to go after some pipe dream. Engaged at eighteen.” He shook his head. “What did I do wrong? I was too strict, maybe. I should have let her have more of a say, more of her own mind.”

Georgia could tell from his expression, the set of his shoulders, that once again, he needed to sit with his thoughts for a moment, process them himself before she jumped in, so she searched the cupboard for peanut butter and found a jar. She got out the bread and found strawberry jam in the fridge. “Hungry?” she asked him.

“Considering I could barely look at my dinner, let alone eat it, yeah,” he said. “Extra jelly.”

She smiled and got to work, the simple task of making Nick a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich oddly fulfilling. “You didn't do anything wrong, Nick. Avery is a smart, thoughtful girl with a good head on her shoulders. And Quentin seems the same.”

He rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in the air. “How could you defend that...Svengali!”

Georgia was generous with Nick's layer of strawberry jam, put the two slices of bread together and cut on the diagonal, the way her mother and grandmother always did, then added a handful of red grapes on the side of the plate. “He hardly seems like he wants to control her into his ‘creation.' He sounds supportive,” she added, bringing two plates to the table. “And he has a good plan. He has a job all lined up in the record business. And that's quite an immediate in for Avery. That doesn't mean she'll make it, but they're not going there blind.”

Nick glared at her. “She belongs in college working toward her music education degree. That's how you don't go blindly into the world. You work toward a secure path.”

Georgia poured two glasses of iced tea and set them on the table. “Well, that's kind of what they're doing.”

“Talking to you is like talking to a brick wall,” he grumbled, getting up. He took a bite of the sandwich, then stalked out of the room, leaving the photo of him and Avery on table.

Georgia shook her head at the utter irony, grabbed their plates and followed him. She'd be ticked off at him if the notion of Nick calling someone a brick wall wasn't so ridiculous. “Nick. Eat your sandwich.”

He grimaced again and took it, dropping down on the sofa and biting into it. “This is perfect, thanks.”

She gave him a soft smile, letting him finish one half before she voiced her thoughts. “I think Avery will be just fine. And you know what? If she's not, she can come home. She can go back to school. She has you, Nick.”

He leaned his head back against the couch, the strong column of his neck drawing her gaze. Down his dark green T-shirt along his muscular chest and taut stomach to his old faded jeans. She lingered on his bare feet, then finally remembered to take a bite of her own sandwich. Suddenly her craving for PB&J had morphed into a craving of another kind, of Nick's hands on her skin, his hard mouth against her lips. She'd fantasize but she'd not let it happen again. She'd learned her lesson and then some.

Mr. Whiskers jumped up on the couch and sniffed Nick's stomach, then sat down and stared at him with his amber eyes. Nick reached out a hand to pet him and Mr. Whiskers brushed against fingers. Huh. Just when the cat was starting to warm up to Nick, Avery would be taking him with her.

“Nick, I—” she began.

“Let's change the subject,” he said, giving Mr. Whiskers a scratch behind the ears. “Is Timmy sleeping?”

She blinked herself out of her little fantasy. “He was when I put him down. And I don't hear a peep.”

He finished his sandwich and leaned back again. “I'm sorry about what I said.” He glanced at her. “The brick-wall thing. You're hardly that.”

She smiled. “It's okay. Talking things out is good. You're going to get frustrated. That's part of life. You just have to work through it.”

“I'm frustrated now,” he said, holding her gaze. “Frustrated as hell because I want you so damned much and feel like I'd better leave you alone. You don't want a repeat of last night. Well, after last night, I mean.” She noticed his gaze drop along her own body, lingering on her breasts under the white tank top, on where her flippy cotton skirt ended just above her knees.

Georgia took a deep breath, afraid where this was going to go. Sometimes a brick wall was comforting. Nothing was said. Nothing explained. You had to speculate and conjecture. There was always room for hope there.

Now there might not be.

“And last night was a problem because...” she prompted.

He sat up straight and looked at her, his dark eyes intense on her, conflicted. “Because I don't know what I'm doing, Georgia. I don't want to be a father. I don't want to live in Blue Gulch. That's what I know. But I am going to be a father and there's no way in hell I'll let you or our son down. I won't do it. If that means staying in Blue Gulch, so be it.”

So he'd be here but miserable? Was that better? What if he never changed? What if he couldn't? What if he looked at their son and felt absolutely nothing except obligation?

Tears stung her eyes, so she closed them, willing herself not to cry. Danged hormones again.

Danged Nick Slater was more like it.

She felt his hand close over hers. Then he was pulling her to him, and the tears flowed down her cheeks.

“Don't cry, Georgia. Please don't cry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

She wiped at her eyes and let him hold her. What was she supposed to say?
I'm sorry you feel the way you do? I'm sorry
you're
the brick wall? It's okay?
It wasn't okay, because she was madly in love with him and desperately wanted to form a family with this man, the three of them together, learning and growing and changing with the passing days, weeks, months, years.

How had she gone from being determined to focus on impending motherhood to yearning for a future with Nick?

She gasped, realizing what this meant.

She trusted him. She trusted Nick Slater because she loved him.

“You've surprised me constantly these past few days, Nick,” Georgia said. “I'm sure you've surprised yourself too.”

“I do what needs to be done. I believe in responsibility, in fulfilling my obligations.”

The brick wall was back.

He still held her hand, the warmth and strength of it a comfort. “I want to do right by you, Georgia. You deserve that. Especially after all you've been through.”

She bristled and pulled her hand away. Obligation again. “I don't need your pity, Nick.” She bolted up with her half-eaten sandwich, her appetite gone.

“Georgia, that's not what I meant.”

“Yes, it is,” she said. She hurried into the kitchen and threw the rest of her sandwich away, quickly washed her plate, then turned to leave, her gaze catching on the photograph of Nick and his sister.

Their time together was coming to an end very soon. Timmy's mother would return on Saturday—Georgia felt sure of it. She would move out of Nick's guest room and into an empty bedroom on the second floor of Hurley's, the one with the lovely fireplace and L-shape, perfect for a nursery. Everything would be okay.

She didn't look at Nick as she headed from the kitchen down the short hall to the guest room. She closed the door behind her, walking up to the bureau and staring at her belly in the big round mirror above it. She stood sideways. She definitely looked pregnant.

No matter what
,
we'll be fine
,
she told her belly.

There was a knock on her door. She could pretend she was sleeping. Anything to avoid hearing him say what she didn't want to hear.

“Come in,” she said without meaning to.

He opened the door and stared at her, his expression so...tortured she wanted to rush into his arms and assure him that she was okay, that she'd be okay, with or without him.

She wouldn't be so okay without him, though. She was deeply in love with Nick Slater.

He stepped in a bit closer. “I just wanted to say good-night. My mother used to tell me we should never go to bed angry with each other. Not that I was ever really angry at her. Just the situation. Anyway, she was right. Going to bed angry just makes you fester. I know.”

“I'm not angry, Nick,” she said. “I just think it stinks that you've given up on yourself.”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”