To Be a Dad (Harlequin Superromance) (3 page)

He dropped his arms and stepped back, noticing with satisfaction that her lips were red and swollen. “You’re a great kisser,” she said as she wiped the back of her hand against her mouth.

He wiggled his eyebrows, feeling inordinately pleased by her compliment. “I have other hidden talents.”

She snorted. “I’m well acquainted with your
talents
.”

“I wouldn’t say you were
well
acquainted.” A corner of his mouth hitched up. “I’m thinking we could use a little refresher course.”

She put her hand on his chest and pushed him back. “There are children in the house.”

“Right. Kids.” And she was the mother of his child, not one of his here-today-gone-tomorrow dates. Somehow that changed everything. She deserved respect and consideration. She deserved someone a lot better than him.

* * *

T
ERESSA
LEANED
AGAINST
the counter for support and rubbed her arms, feeling cold and yes, lonely, damn it. There was no doubt she and Dusty were physically compatible. But she’d known that already. She had the opposite problem, actually. It was difficult being around him and not jumping into those heavily muscled arms of his. Dusty had earned his muscles from honest work, just as he’d earned those sexy crinkles at the corners of his eyes from squinting into the sun. Heaving heavy lobster traps was man’s work. She knew because she’d tried working on one of the local boats one summer. She did the job, but that was all she’d done that summer. Work and sleep. She had immense respect for fishermen.

She eased farther away from him, not that there was much room in her tiny kitchen. Tiny kitchen, tiny house and in her parents’ backyard. Her parents meant well, but she was too old for them to be monitoring her every move. Her mother was likely wondering right this minute what Dusty was doing there so late in the evening. Teressa closed her eyes. Wait until she found out. There was a scene she refused to think about until absolutely necessary.

But she had bigger problems to deal with at the moment. First, she had to keep enough distance between her and Dusty so at the very least, she couldn’t smell his scent of clean soap and ocean and wind. She could become addicted to that smell if she let herself.

And second, she needed to save him from his good intentions. Dusty had an active imagination and left to himself, he’d...heaven knows, decide marriage was the answer to their problems? She needed to hang on to the small bit of independence she still had, because she refused to become that poor woman Dusty Carson saved.

She smiled across the kitchen at him. “We’re friends, Dusty. Good friends. Let’s leave it at that.”

The stress lines that bracketed his mouth softened. “I would if I thought that would be okay, but living here isn’t going to work, and you know it. Your mother is going to have a fit when she hears you’re pregnant again,” he said before she could brush off his concern. “And the house is too small. You’re going to have to move somewhere, and I’ve got a house big enough for all of us. It just needs some work. Which I’m doing,” he added in a louder voice when she opened her mouth. “And where else is there to move to in this village? If you and the kids move in with me, everyone’s happy.”

“Everyone? Really?” What about them as a couple? “This isn’t one of your larks, Dusty. If I ever decide to live with someone, it’s going to be because I can’t live without them. For now I’m fine right where I am. I appreciate that you want to ‘fix’ things, but living together will only make matters worse.”

“You mean I’ll make things worse.”

“It’s not easy living with children, because they have to come first. Always. It’s not like you didn’t have a life before this. Have you given any thought to what you’d be giving up by taking us in?”

He looked at the floor. “Sort of. Not really.” He sighed. “Maybe you’re right. But what about you? What do you want to happen?”

She studied the handsome man standing in her kitchen. She’d forgotten that he’d always been the peacekeeper in his family. But now he was considerate, as well. When had that happened?

She sighed. What did she want? How long had it been since someone asked her that question? And Dusty was right. She had to be practical; her family needed somewhere to live.

She still wasn’t certain Dusty was the answer to her problems. As a matter of fact, if she was certain about anything, it was that moving in with him would cause more problems than it would solve. But she should at least show him the courtesy of considering his offer. It couldn’t have been easy for him to come here tonight.

She sat at the table and motioned for him to do the same. “This is just a wish list, okay? I don’t expect anything.”

He nodded.

“I want a house big enough for my kids and me. But if I ever decided to move in with you, yours needs to be fixed up. I’m not being mean,” she rushed to explain, afraid she’d insulted him. “It’s just, your house is kind of...it needs help.”

“Yeah, I got that. And I’m already working on it. But I’m going to need your help. You have to tell me what to do. What colors you want the walls, that kind of thing.”

Unexpectedly, her nerve endings tingled with excitement. She’d lived in her parents’ house before moving a few feet away into their carriage house. She’d never had a place, not even an apartment, to call her own. Not that Dusty’s house would be hers. But she’d have some say in how to decorate her living space for the first time. That could be fun.

For heaven’s sake, talk about grasping at straws.

“Is that okay with you?” he asked, frowning.

“Yes.” Realizing he was doing all the giving here, she smiled for his benefit. “I’ve never had the chance to decorate before.”

He blazed a returning smile that turned her insides into mush. She blinked and looked away. She shouldn’t have smiled at him.

“I’ll be honest, Teressa. I don’t have tons of money, so the house won’t be as fancy as Cal and Anita’s. But I’ve got some. Like if you want to buy a new stove and stuff. We could do that.”

Oh, hell. He was going to do his nice-guy act, the one that made her temporarily forget how irresponsible he was. Like the time he’d promised to help her paint the table and chairs in the café, then blew her off when an old girlfriend showed up. She and Dusty had been having one of their good days, teasing each other and laughing a lot while painting the chairs outside in the sunlight when a petite, perfectly put-together blonde chased Dusty down at the café. The blonde had fluttered her fake eyelashes once at him, and he was gone. He hadn’t even apologized for leaving her with a half-finished job.

She needed time to think things over. It was too much of a gamble to trust her heart—or those of her children—to him, and she knew better than to depend on anyone too much. Hadn’t she learned over and over again that way led to heartbreak?

She hadn’t been in love with either Sarah or Brendon’s fathers, but she’d been willing to try with Corey, Sarah’s dad. Until she realized Corey had no intention of giving up the parties and settling down. At twenty-two there was nothing more boring than watching people get drunk while you remain stone-cold sober. Was that going to be a problem with Dusty, too? Everyone knew how much he loved to party. Why did she have to fall for the good-time guys? Why couldn’t she have dated an accountant?

“Let’s put the housing issue on hold for now. Like I said, we’re fine here at the moment. We need to talk about our relationship.” She darted a look at his face as it hardened.

He leaned back and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Okay.”

“Can we...can we take it slow for a while. See how things go?”

“You mean no sex.”

She nodded. Was that what she meant? She wasn’t sure.

“Do I get a say in this?”

She scratched at a nonexistent spot on the kitchen table. “Not really.”

“You’re not attracted to me?”

She couldn’t hold back her smile. Life would be easier if she could lie to him and say she wasn’t. “That’s not the problem. It’s just...sex complicates things, and with the children involved, I think we should take everything slowly.”

“So that means we could possibly have sex in the future.”

“Something like that.”

“Okay.”

She sat up straighter. That had been an easier win than she’d expected. “Who have you been having sex with?” It hadn’t occurred to her that Dusty might have a girlfriend stashed away in the city, but it made perfect sense. He was a good-looking guy and fun to be with most of the time.

“There’s no one else.”

Right now
. The words stood between them.

She watched him carefully for a telltale sign that he was lying, but he continued looking at her with a straight expression on his face.
Right now
was a start, she supposed.

“I’ve got a request,” he said.

“What?” she asked suspiciously.

“We have a date once a week.”

“A date?”

“Yeah. Once a week, you and me spend time together alone. Like go out to dinner. Or rent a movie and stay home and watch it together. Alone.”

“What about the kids?”

“We’ll find a babysitter.”

She searched for the problem or hidden agenda and came up empty. “Okay.”

“And you gotta wear sexy underwear every day.”

She half rose out of her chair. “What?”

Dusty grinned. “I don’t have to see it if you don’t want. But I like imagining you wearing lacy things under your clothes.” He glanced at her from under his lashes. “I always have.”

Heat spiked through her as she held on to her chair with both hands. How was she supposed to respond to a request like that?

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped. “I don’t have any sexy underwear. I’ll be wearing a nursing bra in a few months, for Pete’s sake.”

Dusty made a low humming sound as his gaze flicked over her breasts. A blush burned a path right up into her hairline.

“Forget it. All of it. Go home. Now.” She pointed a shaky finger at the door.

He caught her finger, kissed the tip and laughed. “Come on, you’re tougher than that. What else is on your wish list?”

If only he knew how vulnerable she was when it came to him. She didn’t feel nearly as tough as she needed to be. “My wish list.” She massaged her temple. “I’d love to have a few minutes every day to myself.”

“Like when you come home from work?”

“Exactly. I’d love to be able to sit down and do nothing for say, fifteen minutes. Just...sit.” She leaned forward. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know.” He looked down at the table. “I know this probably sounds corny, but I guess I want you to be happy. I know our situation isn’t ideal, but I assume from the way you’re talking you want to keep the baby. Who knows? Maybe we’ll surprise each other.”

He sounded so sad. Not at all like the Dusty she knew. She looked away and stuffed her knuckles in her mouth, the urge to cry overwhelming. She was all messed up in her head and her heart, but she’d never intended to hurt Dusty.

“I want you to know I’m very fond of you, Dusty.”

He patted her hand and took it into his. “I care about you, too. We’re going to be all right, Teressa.”

She blinked back tears. “I hope so.” She leaned across the table and kissed him. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up as just another in the long line of broken hearts Dusty had left behind him.

CHAPTER THREE

D
USTY
SCRUBBED
AWAY
the residue of a hard day’s work. It was an unseasonably warm day for November, and he’d overdressed, anticipating a biting north wind. Instead, he’d spent the day sweating and stripping away one layer of clothing after another. Not much he could do about his underwear, though. His deck hands, Josh and Andy, had teased him about his red long johns.

He and Teressa had managed to keep the news about her pregnancy a semisecret for two days now.
Semi
because his family knew about it, but Teressa had begged for a few more days before she broke the news to her mother.

Mrs. Wilder was a gnarly person to handle. He didn’t know exactly what her problem was, other than she looked as if she had a broom handle stuck up her... Hell, he had to stop thinking like an adolescent, especially about the grandmother of his child. But there was no denying she was a bitter woman. He didn’t remember her being uptight when he was a kid, but kids saw the world differently than adults.

For the past two nights he’d worked hard emptying his house of anything that absolutely didn’t need to be there. It looked empty and rough at the moment, but slap down some new flooring and a fresh coat of paint on the walls and things would start to come together. That’s what he kept telling himself. Where he’d find the time to accomplish all that, he had no idea. Because regardless of what Teressa said about how she was fine where she was, eventually she was going to need a bigger place, and houses didn’t come up for sale all that often in Collina. Plus now that he’d started working on his house, he was getting into the renovations in a big way.

As soon as he ate, he planned to head over to Teressa’s to nail down a time that they could go to Lancaster together to buy some paint. His bank account already had a huge dent in it, because Cal had purchased a bunch of building and plumbing supplies. Good thing Dusty had a solid line of credit, and that it was one of the better fishing seasons. If he was careful, he might almost pull this off. Although Teressa had been pretty clear on not moving in with him, the fact was her place would be too small once the baby came, and he thought he should at least offer her the option of moving in with him. He gulped for air. It was the right thing to do. No matter how many times he repeated that thought to himself, it didn’t get any easier to swallow.

Dusty heard a knock on the door as he stepped out of the shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist and stuck his head out into the hallway that led to the kitchen. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“No hurry, son. You’ve done a lot of work the past few days.”

His father, Pops. The man he most admired in the whole world. Cal had given Pops the lowdown, and Dusty had talked to him briefly on the phone, but he hadn’t heard from his father since. He grabbed a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt, pulled them on and ran a hand through his wet hair as he hurried down the hallway.

“There you are.” Pops eyed him. “Good day on the water?”

“Great. You should come out with me before the weather changes.” His father had fished for years before he sold Dusty the boat and his quota for lobster. More and more these days, quotas were going to outsiders and not always by choice. Dusty considered himself lucky to be able to buy his father’s business, when not so many years ago, it had been a given that a son, not a stranger, would take over the business.

Pops smiled. “Can’t say I haven’t thought of going.”

Pops took his time studying the carnage he and Adam and Cal had wrought the past two nights. The floors were stripped down to the subfloor and the icky wallpaper in the living room—did people really choose to have roses on their walls?—had been pulled off in strips. His house was an open-concept with the kitchen and dining room one big room and the living room opening off both. The three bedrooms and the bathroom were clustered at the other end of the house. They hadn’t touched those yet.

“You’ve got a lot of work in front of you.”

“Yeah.” He sank onto an arm of his black leather couch, the sum of what he hoped to accomplish weighing down on him.

Pops came over and put his hand on Dusty’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Dusty. I know neither you nor Teressa are ready to live together yet, but I think it was important to let her know she can move here if she wants to. It would be a big adjustment for you, and it couldn’t have been easy to offer her your home.”

They both knew that was the understatement of the year. “I can’t believe I’m going to be a dad.”

Pops’s face lit up. “Can’t say I’m disappointed. I’ve been waiting on a grandchild for a long time now. I never thought you’d be the first, though.”

Dusty laughed. “Me, neither.”

“Having a child, that’s nothing short of a miracle. You’ll see.”

“And having three kids?” Might as well get that elephant off his chest.

“I brought up three kids single-handedly, and even if I do say it myself, I think I did a damned fine job. You’ll do fine, too. The thing about having kids? You only get to live the experience a day at a time. When you’re feeling overwhelmed, remember that. All you have to do is get through the day.”

“And then you get to do it all over again the next day.” Pops’s advice wasn’t helping.

“See? There you go, getting ahead of yourself. Just concentrate on today.”

Pops wandered around the living room and looked out the window. “Cal says he’s busy with the Tolster job. He can only help you part-time.”

“I can’t let him do all that work for free, and I can only afford him part-time. Adam’s been a big help so far, and I plan to work evenings.”

“Your mate, Josh, he’s handy with a hammer. He built his own house.”

“He did a good job, too. But I’m working on a budget, Pops. I guess I could remortgage the house once I get a few more things done, but I was hoping to keep the building expenses under control.” He looked at his hands, a tight knot in his chest. “I’m going to have a child to support.” The knot twisted into a sharp pain. He couldn’t breathe.

“That’s what I came by to talk to you about.” Pops pulled the ottoman in front of Dusty and sat. “I’ve got more money than I need after selling the café to Teressa and Sylvie and Adam.”

Dusty reared back. “No way. That’s your money. You need it.”

“Not all of it. I planned to put aside a healthy sum for each of you to inherit. I gave the family home to Sylvie, so why can’t I give you money? You need it. I don’t. I always said better to give with a warm hand than a cold heart. This way I get to enjoy watching you spend it.”

“I don’t know, Pops. I just... I never figured...” Goddamn it, he was not going to start blubbering in front of his father.

“I know you didn’t. That’s what makes giving you money all the more enjoyable. I talked to Muriel at the bank. She’s going to transfer fifty thousand into your account tomorrow. Maybe you can hire one or two carpenters to work during the day while you’re fishing. Buy a few appliances. Whatever. It’s yours to do with as you see fit.”

They both stood, and Dusty felt his father’s strong arms around him. A father’s hug—
his
father’s hugs were a wonderful thing. Would he be as good of a father as his own dad was? He had a lot to learn and a long way to go, but at least his family had his back. Could be, things wouldn’t be so bad.

* * *

T
ERESSA
HELD
HER
arm protectively over her stomach as her mother’s words drilled into her.

“Can you not keep your legs closed to anyone? What are you, the village whore?” Her mother’s face flared fiery red, and she screeched loud enough that Teressa worried the children would hear, and if they could, would they understand the foul words that were coming out of their grandmother’s mouth? She’d known breaking the news to her mother was going to be bad, but she hadn’t anticipated the depth of Linda’s bitter disappointment.

“That’s uncalled for,” Teressa responded.

“Is it? What’s uncalled for is having a slut for a daughter.”

Teressa flinched, but refused to let her tears take over. Had she really thought something good might come out of her pregnancy? That for once in her life, she’d be happy? Or if not happy, content? Dusty had almost made her believe it was within her reach. But then she’d known Dusty had a glib tongue. What she’d do to feel his arms around her right now. She’d considered asking him to come over and support her while she told her mother about the pregnancy, but at the last moment decided against involving him. It had been a good call.

“Where do you think you’re going to live? You can’t stay here. It’s too small. The money I could have made renting this place out.”

“That’s not fair. I pay rent.”

Her mother snorted. “A portion of what it’s worth. You’ll have to move in with us. It’s the only solution.”

And eat crow for the rest of her life?

“We’re moving in with Dusty.” Oh, God, where had that come from? Now that she’d told her mother, she couldn’t take it back. Dusty had looked so relieved when she’d turned down his offer to move into his house.

“You can’t think a decent man like Dusty is going to put up with you for long. He’s not stupid, Teressa. No man wants used goods, and someone else’s children to boot.”

Teressa sagged. Hadn’t the very same thought plagued her continuously? What happened when Dusty woke up to the fact that this wasn’t one of his wild romps? That she and her children weren’t going to disappear? But she’d be damned if she’d admit her fears to her mother. The woman would feast on them like a starving vulture.

“I guess that’s something Dusty and I will have to discuss.”

Her mother’s voice peaked into an even sharper screech. “I won’t have my child and grandchildren treated like charity cases. It’s bad enough everyone knows you’re a slut. You’ll move in with us. That’s the end of it.”

“I’d rather live in a shelter than live with you.”

Linda’s hand connected with Teressa’s face at the same time the outside door opened. Tears that Teressa had held in check spilled over when she saw the horror stamped on Dusty’s face as he stood in the doorway. She hadn’t wanted him to bear witness to any of the ugliness her mother directed at her. The woman had just straight-out called her own daughter a slut. Which was totally unfair.

Everyone froze. Linda looked horror-struck at being caught in a violent act. Teressa could hear Dusty’s heavy breathing. He sounded like a bull about to charge.

“What the hell is this?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“Linda thinks the children and I should move in with her and Dad.”

He narrowed his eyes as he continued to stare at her mother. “Not going to happen. She’s moving in with me.”

“Why would you want someone like her to live with you?” A sly look crossed Linda’s face. “Oh, of course. Because everyone knows my daughter puts out.”

“Mother! Stop.” She was going to die from embarrassment on the spot. Her own mother talking about her like that. Did Dusty think the same thing? What if Linda was right? What if she had no worth? Maybe she should admit defeat now rather than wait for the inevitable crash to happen. That Dusty would someday think the same thing was devastating.

A vein pulsed in Dusty’s jaw. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it as if he didn’t trust what would come out. Finally he swallowed and tried again. “Your daughter is ten times the woman you are.” He opened the door. “We’re finished here.”

Teressa choked back her tears. No one had ever defended her before, not even her own father.

“You can’t kick me out of my own place,” Linda protested.

“If Teressa’s paying rent, I can.”

A look of triumph stretched the skin tight on Linda’s face. “There’s no formal rental agreement. She has no rights.”

“It’s okay, Dusty.” She tugged on his arm. “I’ll handle this.”

He finally looked her full in the face, and his anger blasted over her. “It’s not okay. Go pack whatever you and the kids need for a couple of days. You’re moving to my place tonight.”

He turned to Linda. “We’ll be back tomorrow to get everything else.

“Come on, Teressa.” He took her by the arm and led her down the hallway. “Let me help.”

Teressa’s heart broke, and broke again when they stumbled into the children’s room to find Sarah hugging her baby brother. Tears rolled down Sarah’s cheeks and Brendon watched her with round, frightened eyes. She felt Dusty hesitate before he continued onto the bed where both children cuddled. If she had been in his shoes, she honestly couldn’t say that she wouldn’t have turned and run out the door.

She sat and gathered her babies into her arms, rocking them back and forth. She knew they both needed a minute to overcome the rush of relief they probably felt at seeing that she was okay. This was not the first time she and her mother had come to blows.

She felt broken inside. If she moved too fast or breathed too hard, she’d shatter. Not only because her mother hated her, but also because Dusty had witnessed Linda’s disdain for her. What if he thought the same thing, that she didn’t deserve respect? “Mama, are you hurt?” Brendon patted her cheek where her mother had hit her. She should have gone to the washroom first to check if Linda had left any marks.

She hugged her son closer. “I’m okay, baby. Your grandmother was upset. She didn’t mean anything.”

“If you point me in the direction of your suitcases, I’ll start packing things,” Dusty said in a low voice, as if afraid to upset the delicate balance in the room.

She blushed, amazed she could find something else to be embarrassed about. “We don’t have any. There’s a couple of cloth bags in the hall closet, and there are garbage bags.” She smiled wanly. “We never go anywhere.”

She could tell by the way the vein in his jaw jumped that he was clenching his teeth again. “Garbage bags it is.”

“Are we really moving to Dusty’s house?” The fear on Sarah’s face was replaced by curiosity. Brendon crawled up on her lap, his thumb in his mouth.

“Yes.” As if a window had opened, her spirits lightened a bit.

“What’s it like there?”