Built to Last (Harlequin Heartwarming) (9 page)

The movie had been her idea, although she hadn’t realized quite what it was about. She’d thought it was a drama with the usual quirky French flair. Now Ryan must be thinking she’d suggested it as a hint.

The movie ended at last with Jo shell-shocked. Ryan kept a hand on her back as they made their way up the aisle and out through the lobby into the damp, cold night. His touch burned through her sweater.

“Well,” he said, and she heard the amusement underlying his matter-of-factness, “that was interesting.”

She gave a laugh that sounded false, even to her own ears. “I know how to pick ’em, don’t I?”

His grin was wicked. “You sure do.”

She punched his arm. “I thought the couple in front of us would never stop kissing.”

Under the street lamp, she couldn’t be sure, but it seemed to her that his eyes darkened when he said, “I was tempted to imitate them.”

She had to clear her throat. “Were you really?”

A group of students almost enveloped them in their laughing circle.

Ryan’s gaze didn’t waver from her face. “Yeah.” He took her hand. “Let’s go to the car.”

Unfortunately, they were parked five or six blocks away, a curse of city living. After a couple of blocks of silence, they reached his pickup truck, parked on a dark side street.

He faced her and said, “I want to kiss you.”

“Oh.”

Brilliant, she chided herself, feeling the flush of embarrassment in her cheeks. Way to flirt.

Cheeks now flaming hot, which thankfully he couldn’t see, Jo said in a small voice, “I was beginning to think you didn’t, um, want me as a girlfriend.”

She felt him jerk.

“What?”

“If you’d like to be just friends…” she began.

His head bent so fast she didn’t see it coming, his mouth capturing hers.

He lifted his head, and she said, “I guess that answers that question.”

O
VER THE NEXT COUPLE OF WEEKS
, Jo was blissfully, absurdly happy. As much fun as tiling the bathroom had been, she’d turned down Ryan’s offer of a job. Instead, she was working part-time in the university undergraduate library. When she wasn’t there or in class, it seemed she was with Ryan. Evenings, he either hung out at the old Ravenna neighborhood house or she was at his. More often the latter. She was embarrassed at how often she’d switched her night for cooking or opted out of dinners Kathleen or Helen had made.

She had only one cloud on her horizon. Well, two, both connected to Thanksgiving.

The day after the awful French film, Ryan had mentioned casually, but with delight, that his kids would be with him for Thanksgiving. He and Jo were on their way to his place, groceries in the back. They intended to make a southwestern-style bean and rice wrap.

“They’ll be here for the whole week.” Behind the wheel of his pickup, he reached
out for her hand and squeezed. “I expected to have them for Christmas, but not for Thanksgiving, too. Wendy’s new husband apparently planned a romantic getaway for them.”

Obviously, any romantic activities she and Ryan might have indulged in that week would be on hold.

“You’ve really missed them, haven’t you?” she said diplomatically. What was one week?

“Yeah, I can’t believe they’re coming. I talked to them a couple of nights ago. It was almost like old times.”

He fell silent, his expression suddenly brooding. His hand left hers and gripped the steering wheel.

Jo had an attack of guilt, because she never encouraged him to talk about his children. She knew why, of course; she was pretending they didn’t exist, even though she knew how much he loved them.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Talking to them has gotten hard. I don’t know what to say, what to ask about. I mean, I know Tyler plays soccer, but except for some videos I’ve never seen a game. I don’t know how good he is, I don’t know the boys on the team, who they play. So I say, ‘How was
the game?’ and he says, ‘Fine.’ Maybe, if I’m lucky, he tells me he scored a goal.”

“Didn’t you say they moved just this past June?”

“Five months is a long time in their lives.” Stopped at a red light, he grimaced. “Oh, it’s not as bad as I’m making out. It just scares me, when things get stilted. I imagine the years going by with us having less and less to say to each other, and me calling less often. Maybe them coming to visit me only because it’s court-ordered and their mom marches them onto the plane.”

“Oh, Ryan.” Seeing the unhappiness on his face, she had to swallow a lump in her throat. She reached out and laid a hand on his arm. “You’re too good a father for that. I’ll bet they can hardly wait to come.”

He pulled into his driveway, set the emergency brake and turned off the engine before he looked at her. “How do you know I’m a good father?”

“Because I’ve seen you with Emma and Ginny,” Jo said with conviction. “They adore you.”

In a way, it bothered her to see how good he was with the girls. Sometimes she felt inadequate with them in comparison. Worse yet,
it reminded her that at heart he was a family man. He’d have fun with her for a while, but he wouldn’t be content with a girlfriend. One of these days, he’d want a wife again, and maybe even another child.

He shrugged. “They’ve both latched on to me in place of their fathers. Who else is available?”

“Well, you’re gloomy tonight!” Jo said with exasperation. “Who would be better to have available?”

“In Emma’s case, it would be Ian.” For a moment, his expression was dangerous. “Doesn’t he know how rejected she feels?”

“Do you think she
wants
to see him, after what he did to her?” Jo asked dubiously.

“Yes!” Ryan raised a brow. “Did you ever give up on your father?”

Her first reaction was fiery and instinctive. “Of course I did! Eventually,” she added less strongly, before making a face. “I think I have. Okay. Point taken. Every kid really, really wants her parents to love her. Which—” she went on the attack “—makes me wonder why you’d expect your kids to be any different.”

“My kids?”

“Yeah. Why do you think they’re going
to lose interest in you? You’re their father! They’re going to be desperate to know that you still love them.”

For an unnervingly long moment he stared at her, but she was far from certain he was really seeing her. “Yeah,” he finally conceded. “Maybe.”

“It’s just going to be up to you to make sure they don’t forget you,” she said firmly. “Is there any reason you couldn’t fly to…wherever they live for a visit? Think how cool it would be for them to spend a weekend with you at a hotel with a swimming pool. If you plan right, you can take Tyler to a soccer game or Melissa to…whatever she does.”

Once again she was embarrassed. He had undoubtedly told her where his ex-wife had moved, and what his daughter loved to do. She just hadn’t listened.

But he didn’t seem to notice. “Yeah,” he said again, his tone odd, wry. “You’re right. I’ve been so busy sulking, I haven’t been very creative about staying in touch. I could have flown out there this fall. We could email, too.”

“Buy them a digital camera for Christmas, and that way they could send you pictures all the time. Silly ones of when they have friends
over or are just goofing off. They’d think it was fun.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “You know, you have the instincts of a mother.”

She was shaking her head even before he finished. “I don’t think so. Making suggestions is one thing. It doesn’t mean I want to apply my own advice.”

“No?” He didn’t push the issue, for which she was grateful, but his amused, confident expression made her both wary and irritated. Surely he wasn’t already getting ideas.

The conversation was dropped once they carried the groceries in and started work on dinner. But she couldn’t forget it. She found herself in the next week watching when he was with Emma or Ginny, seeing even more clearly the gentleness and humor he employed with them, the easy way he teased without ever hurting feelings, the pleasure in his own laugh when they teased back. She had flattered herself that he was hanging around so often because of her, but she began to wonder. The two girls assuaged a loneliness she couldn’t touch.

Seeing him with the two girls awakened other, unsettling emotions and memories. He made such a painful contrast with her father,
she’d find anger welling in her chest, leaving her breathless. Why couldn’t Dad have listened to her like that? Smiled at her with such affection and approval?
Ever?

She’d stop at the public library and have a flashback: herself as an eager young girl, excited about a book she’d found, a discovery she’d made, racing to her father. “Daddy! Daddy!” He’d angrily shush her, even punish her for being too loud by not letting her check out the book. Or she’d remember dinnertimes, their father silent and withdrawn, the kids expected not to bother him. What a cold man! she marveled now. How had he won her mother’s love, convinced her to give up music for him?

Perhaps it was fitting, in the midst of a week where she was brooding so much about family, that her brother chose to call. It was one of the rare nights when Ryan was busy. Conversation at the table had been sparse, with Helen so tired her eyes looked unfocused and Kathleen nursing a migraine. Ginny picked at her food and said nothing, while Emma, as usual, absented herself. Dinner was barely over when Emma answered the ringing telephone in the living room and came into the kitchen with it a moment later.

“For you,” she told Jo.

“Hey!” Boyce said without preamble. “How’s it feel to be a kid again?”

“A kid?” Jo left the others cleaning off the table. She’d cooked, so she was entitled, although she’d intended to offer to do it so that Helen and Kathleen could both go lie down.

“Back in school?” her brother nudged. “Do you feel middle-aged compared to the other students?”

“Sometimes, when I’m walking around the campus,” Jo admitted. She curled up on one end of the sofa in the living room. “But not in the library school. Half or more of the students haven’t come directly from their undergraduate years. Most have been working for at least a few years. I have a classmate who is fifty-five.”

“Cool!” Boyce said cheerfully. “At least there’s one guy for you to date.”

“Brat,” she said without malice. After a moment’s peaceful pause, she continued, “Aunt Julia tells me you and Jennifer have parted ways.”

“Yeah.” He was quiet. “I really liked her, even if she was weird. You know?”

The piercings and tattoos, Jo presumed. “Uh-huh,” she said meaninglessly.

“Thing is, I liked her too much. I made her nervous.”

Jo knew something about that. “You were thinking ’til death do us part, and she just wanted to party.”

“Pretty much,” Boyce admitted.

“I’m sorry,” Jo said, and meant it.

“Yeah, well, I’ll get over her.” He sounded, suddenly, very young. Her little brother. “Thing is, I was wondering if you could come down for Thanksgiving.”

She blinked. They didn’t do these family occasions, having no center, no
home.
They’d gone to Aunt Julia’s a few times, when she wasn’t escaping winter in the Bahamas, but most often holidays didn’t mean family to either Dubray.

“Do you have room to put me up?” she asked cautiously.

“Now that Jennifer isn’t here, sure. Um, did you already have plans?”

“No-o,” she said. Actually, this might be a good thing. She could meet Ryan’s children, make nice with them, then escape. He’d have a few days with just them, feeling no obligation to include her. “No,” she repeated more firmly, “I was just going to hang around with my roommates. And, to tell the truth, I don’t
know what
they
have planned. They may both be intending to get together with family.”

Boyce cleared his throat. “Uh, there’s just one thing.”

At his tone, her eyes narrowed. “What?”

“I invited Dad.”

She sat up. “You did
what?
”

“You know I see him more often than you do.” There was defensiveness in Boyce tone.

“Yeah.” She snorted. “Although why you bother…”

“I don’t resent him as much as you do.”

“So, is he staying with you, too?” Their father still lived in Pasadena, near L.A., where Boyce and Jo had grown up.

“Nah,” her brother said. “You know what my place is like.”

Slobby. A typical bachelor pad. Jennifer hadn’t possessed any housewifely skills or interests, which should have been a clue to Boyce.

Jo stared darkly at the wallpaper, yellowed and peeling at the seam. “I’d just have to see him at Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Pretty much.”

Why did she feel as if she was being set up? “You’re not doing this because you think
he and I will magically fall into each other’s arms and beg forgiveness, are you?”

Her brother hooted, answer enough.

“Okay,” she conceded. “You’re not stupid. I knew that.”

“You don’t have to come.” He was silent for a moment. “I just, uh, I guess I was feeling lonely. Sometimes even a tense family get-together seems better than eating turkey by yourself, or as a guest at someone else’s family functions.”

She’d done both often enough to know what he meant. She thought it might have been different this year, even if Kathleen or Helen turned out to have other relatives who they invited to Thanksgiving dinner. Maybe, in a weird way, the three of them along with Ginny and Emma were starting to
feel
like family. Still…

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll come.”

“You will?” His voice lightened, as if she’d made his day. “Great!”

They discussed airline fares and dates. She hung up, dropped the phone on the end table and then wrapped her arms around her knees. She was going to see her father.

Would she finally be indifferent to him?

Jo let out a huff that was almost a laugh.
Who was she kidding? The minute he walked in the door, she’d revert to a hurt, confused, angry teenager again. And people said time travel wasn’t possible.

The upside was, she wouldn’t have to fake having terrific fun with Ryan’s children.

She could put that off until Christmas, unless she was so lucky as to receive an invitation she couldn’t turn down for that holiday, too. Maybe Aunt Julia would long for company on a trek to the Yucatan or for a lazy two weeks in Kauai. Or maybe Jo would lie to Ryan and go to Kauai all by herself.

He was disappointed but philosophical when she told him the next day that she’d be flying to San Francisco for Thanksgiving.

“We’ll miss you, but, hey, the kids’ll be back for two weeks at Christmas. You can get to know them then.”

Her life’s ambition. Hadn’t he listened to her? she wondered on a spurt of anger. Did he not believe any woman could want to be childless?

She was immediately ashamed of herself. More likely, he loved Melissa and Tyler so much, he couldn’t imagine how anyone could feel any different. Well, she thought, brightening, they’d probably hate her cordially.
What self-respecting kids
liked
the woman Dad was dating and might even
marry,
thus making her the wicked stepmother?

No, this relationship would be mutual, if not exactly what Ryan had in mind. She and the kids would be polite and find excuses to avoid being in each other’s company. Then they’d be gone. He hadn’t said anything about spring break, had he? And what were the odds she’d still be seeing him next summer?

No, she wouldn’t worry, not about his children. They lived with their mother. As long as Jo was part of his life, they would be no more than visitors. An occasional inconvenience, from her point of view.

And her father… It might be interesting to see him. To find out whether she’d told Ryan the truth when she claimed to no longer care. Think how liberating it would be to discover she didn’t!

Maybe she should use this unexpected family gathering to ask some of those questions she’d always been too cowardly to put to him. She was a big girl now. If he snubbed her, so be it. It wouldn’t be the first time. If he was willing to talk about her mother and she didn’t like what he had to say, well, sometimes any answers were better than none. It
wasn’t as if she’d ever kidded herself that her mother, at least, had loved her.