Whisper Falls (9 page)

By late that afternoon, she’d finally calmed down enough to finish painting the walls’ edges. Although, while at Posh, the hands-on work had mostly been done by subcontractors, Tessa possessed a lot of home improvement skills, and doing it herself kept costs low.

And by then she’d also waffled over the mysterious door down the hall long enough to realize that, despite everything it might reveal to her about Lucky, she wasn’t going to open it. She
wanted
to, for her own peace of mind, but in the end, she just couldn’t.

Sometimes it was hell being a good person.

Upon finishing the first coat of paint in the living room a little after five, she decided to call it a day. Tidying up her mess so Lucky could sit in his living room tonight, she put on her shoes, headed down the hall past the Mystery Door, and peeked out into the garage. “Goodnight,” she called overtop of the music still playing there.

And when he turned to face her, looking as hot as ever, the mere meeting of their eyes took her back to their little collision earlier. She could have sworn he was remembering it—
feeling
it again—too. “ ’Night, hot stuff,” he told her.

And just from that, her heartbeat sped up yet again as she walked away.

T
he following day, Tessa felt Lucky keeping his distance from her.
But maybe that’s good. You still don’t know what’s in that room and it might be something awful.

Yet her body ached for him—so while she spent another day painting, on the inside, she was also doing more waffling, too. And it was all getting pretty exhausting. So exhausting that she was happy to knock off early. Reaching a good stopping point just after four, she grouped her supplies in one corner of the room and traded awkward, heat-charged goodbyes with Lucky once more.

It was nearly an hour later, at home, when Tessa realized she didn’t have her portfolio and that she must have left it at Lucky’s place. She didn’t always take it there, but had today, to record some measurements. Which she needed for planning tomorrow’s work.

So she trudged back up the hill and banged on Lucky’s door—and got no answer. After which she walked to the garage—and was surprised to find it open yet empty of anything but painting supplies and dismantled motorcycles. But music blasted from somewhere
inside
the house now.

Opening the door that led from the garage inward, just a smidge, she yelled, “Lucky, it’s me, Tessa,” over the blaring Southern rock—and that’s when she heard a huge thudding crash, a groan of pain, and a lot of cussing. God, what had just happened?

The sounds led her instinctively inside, and she followed them—right through the open Mystery Door without even thinking. It was only then that she realized she’d come into the room Lucky had forbidden her to enter—and it was too late to fix it.

She took everything in at once. Lucky lay on the floor at the bottom of the same ladder she’d fallen from yesterday, a ribbon of wallpaper border uncoiling across his torso. And this was not a storage room. Nearby sat a single bed, neatly made. She saw a small desk, and some shelves, empty but for a couple of model race cars. And what appeared to be a toy box, as well as a bulletin board leaning against one wall. Then she absorbed the most shocking fact: It was all done in a NASCAR theme. NASCAR comforter and sheets. NASCAR-themed lamp beside the bed. Even the wallpaper border featured stock cars. What the hell
was
this?

But as quickly as she asked herself the question, she realized it was obvious. It was . . . a kid’s room. A boy’s room. In the process of being put together. And she knew
what
she was seeing, but she couldn’t figure out quite
why
she was seeing it, what it was doing in Lucky’s house. It was the last thing she’d expected. Not exactly drugs or guns.

That’s when Lucky finally looked up at her, eyes blazing.

She quickly reached down to lower the volume on the nearby CD player plugged into the wall and said, “Are you okay?”

He answered by shoving the wallpaper border away, bolting upright, and roaring, “
What the hell are you doing in here?
”

The booming voice made her flinch, and as he rose to his feet, fists clenched, he looked positively enraged. “Did you not understand when I said you couldn’t come in here? Did I not make that clear enough for you?”

This was the Lucky she’d feared in the beginning.

But . . . wait just a minute
. “What I’m doing in here is making sure you didn’t just break your neck, you big lug,” she told him, getting a little testy herself. “For your info, I knocked, and I called for you—and when I heard a big crash, I figured I should see if you were dead or not.” She finished with a terse nod as if to add,
Take that!

Despite still looking disgusted, Lucky seemed to relax a little, just planting his fists at his sides and letting out a sigh. But he still flashed a suspicious glare. As if she’d planned this or something.

“Quit with the look,” she went on. “I’m completely innocent in this.” Then her gaze dropped to the unwound wallpaper border still curled on the floor. “And by the way, that’s a two-person job for an amateur. No
wonder
you fell.”

Yet he just kept staring at her anyway, until it became almost unnerving. “Well?” he finally growled. “Aren’t you gonna ask?”

She considered the question. And decided she didn’t really
have
to ask now. “No. I mean, obviously . . . you must have a child. But you don’t want to talk about it for some reason. So . . . you don’t have to tell me anything.” Of course, even as she was sounding all calm and respectful about it, inside she was thinking:
Whoa
.
Lucky Romo
,
a father? Would wonders never cease?

And also:
It’s not drugs or guns! Thank God!

But what does all this mean? Why is your kid such a big secret?

That’s when, next to her, his shoulders slumped lightly—and he looked a little deflated. Still hot, but deflated. Until she actually felt bad for him.

“This wasn’t my fault, but I’m sorry,” she said. “Why don’t you let me help with the border.” She moved past him then, picking up the end, then climbing onto the ladder without waiting for an answer. “You can feed it up to me—just try to keep the already wet part from touching stuff, okay?” Then she got to work.

“Are you all right? From the fall?” she asked, focusing now on the corner where she was starting.

Lucky gave a brief nod in her direction even though she was no longer looking at him, grumbling, “I’ll live.” Then he sighed again as he lifted the border trailing over the side of the stepladder, to keep the wet part from sticking to it. The truth was, his back hurt and he’d probably have a killer bruise on his ass come tomorrow morning. But that was the least of his concerns.

He was mad as hell. But not at her. She was right—it wasn’t her fault. He’d left the house open, the damn door wide open. He wanted to kick himself for it.

This room—and the reason for it—wasn’t a secret he’d been ready to share yet, with anyone, but now that it was out . . . hell, the way he saw it, he really had no choice but to explain. It was really his only hope of keeping Tessa from telling all of Destiny.

“For the last ten years, I’ve lived in Wisconsin,” Lucky unhappily volunteered. “The only reason I came home is because I found out I have a kid, a son. He lives in Crestview with his mom.”

Stopping her work, she turned to peer down at him, appearing a little lost for words, until she finally said, “I told you, Lucky, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“Well, maybe I want to,” he snipped.

“You didn’t yesterday,” she pointed out. “You acted like you were guarding international secrets in here or something.”

He gave his head a tilt. “Yeah, well, now that you know, I’d prefer you have the whole story rather than just half of it.”
Especially if you’re gonna go running to my brother’s fiancée with it.

On the ladder above him, his sexy little neighbor just shrugged. “All right. Whatever you want.” Then she stuck up another small section of the border, smoothing it down with her fingertips.

Aw, hell. Now that he’d started this, he didn’t know quite where to begin. But maybe if he got through it, he could talk her into keeping it to herself. “He’s nine, my kid,” he started. “And I, uh, passed back through this area right before I settled in Milwaukee. But I didn’t stick around long—that’s why I didn’t know about him until now.”

“How’d you find out?” she asked, eyes on the next section of border.

“From a friend of mine in Crestview. He owns a bar there—Gravediggers.”

She nodded, looking vaguely aware of the biker bar.

“And this woman I was seeing the last time I was here—Sharon—she came in the bar one night and my buddy, Duke, heard her say my name to her friends. When he asked about it, she told him I was the father of her kid but that she’d never been able to find me.”

“So it was that simple?”

“Duke saw a picture—said the kid looked just like me—and since the timing was right, that would’ve been enough for me. But Duke’s kinda cautious, so he pretty much insisted on a DNA test. I got one in Milwaukee and Sharon handled the other end of it here. And that confirmed it. So . . . that’s why I’m here. In Destiny.”

That’s when Tessa turned to face him again for the first time in a few minutes, her hazel eyes shining on him, blinking prettily. “So, then, are you, um, seeing this woman again?”

She’d tried so hard to sound nonchalant that he almost smiled. Had he actually managed to make Tessa Sheridan jealous? That easy? And for a second, he thought about stretching that out, making her suffer a little—but then decided honesty was simpler, especially since he wasn’t too comfortable talking about all this anyway. “No. She has a boyfriend. And when I said I was seeing her back then . . . I really just meant I had sex with her one night.”

“Ah.” He caught her nervous swallow and for once didn’t mind if he was making her a little uneasy. Not that he knew why he was taking pleasure in her jealousy—given that there couldn’t ever really be anything between them.

“So . . . she’s happy to welcome you into her child’s life?” Tessa asked. And before he could reply, she added, “Don’t get me wrong—it’s just that most single moms usually feel pretty protective about their kids and wouldn’t necessarily want the upheaval of bringing a dad into the picture this late in the game.”

He shrugged. “I was surprised, too. But turns out her father just died—about six months ago—and he helped her out a lot, with money and babysitting and stuff like that, so that’s why my name came up that night—she was really wishing I was around to do my part. And she was happy when I called and told her I was moving here, but at the same time, she wants me to get settled before I meet him—guess she wants to make sure I’m a decent guy who’ll stick around. That’s . . . sorta why I hired
you
. To help me get settled. To get the
house
settled while
I
get settled in
here
.” He pointed at his head.

“I actually knew her back before I left town after high school,” he went on, “and she told Duke she always thought . . .” his voice got a little scratchy on this part, because it was weird to say, maybe even weirder to think “ . . . that there was, uh, more good in me than I let on.” He gave his head a short shake. “Or maybe she just wants the child support, which I’m happy to pay.”

Above him, Tessa tilted her pretty head and gave him a long look. “She was right,” she said. “There
is
more good in you than you used to let on. If you’re willing to pack up your whole life and move across three states to be a dad to a kid you never even knew you had.”

At this, he could only offer another shrug.

Yet Tessa was looking at him like . . . like he was kind of incredible. And when he didn’t say anything more, she pressed the issue. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t really get it. You could have paid child support without moving here. And you don’t seem like a guy who’d be dying to play daddy to someone.”

“I’m not,” he assured her. “And I have no fucking idea what I’m doing.”

She shook her head then, clearly confused. “Then why are you doing it? Why did you uproot your whole existence for it?”

Lucky let out a sigh, and a small knot formed in his gut. Part of him really didn’t want to go there, and God knew he wasn’t used to talking about personal stuff so much, but . . . hell, maybe another part of him wanted to tell her. He was pretty sure no one in Destiny had any idea why he’d turned into a jerk growing up, and maybe he wanted someone here to finally understand.

Still, his voice dropped an octave when he said, “I don’t know if you remember . . . what happened when I was a kid.”

“About your sister?”

He nodded.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “Of course I do.”

Lucky took a deep breath. He might want to put it out there, but that didn’t mean it was easy. “After Anna disappeared . . . everything changed in my family. When my parents weren’t falling apart over losing Anna, they were making a fuss over Mike—since he’d been in charge of watching her when it happened and he felt guilty about it.”

She nodded, as if she knew this part—and maybe she did since she was friends with Mike’s fiancée.

But the part she
didn’t
know was, “So from that point on, I felt . . . pretty damn invisible. Or forgotten or something. And so . . . well, I just wouldn’t want any kid of mine to think I didn’t care, or that I wouldn’t be there for him. That’s all.”

She stayed quiet for a moment, finally saying, “That’s really admirable, Lucky.”

Yet he gave his head a short shake. “I’m not trying to be admirable. I’m just trying to keep another kid from being as miserable as I was. It’s not the same situation by a long shot, but still, I figure growing up is tough enough when things are normal, let alone when they’re not.”

“What’s your son’s name?”

“She named him after me—Johnny.”