To Be a Dad (Harlequin Superromance) (5 page)

He and Teressa may have had their differences from time to time, but underneath all the stuff that went on between them, they were good friends. Teressa was a fighter, but her mother’s attack must have knocked her for sixty. And then, to come here to this mess.

“It’ll get better. I promise.”

She hugged herself. “Sure.”

“We’ll go to town tomorrow and pick up a few things. You have to start making a list of what we need. I mean, I know what building materials, but we’ll get a new stove and fridge, too. What else?”

She took a weary look around the kitchen. “What’s wrong with that stove? We don’t need to buy new. You can’t afford it, and neither can I.”

“The oven doesn’t work. What else do you need?”

She stuffed her hands into the sleeves of her faded pink dressing gown and hunched her shoulders. Damn it. He hadn’t meant to snap at her. He’d been meaning to get the oven fixed for months, but what did he need an oven for when he had a microwave?

“Hey.” He stepped into her space and waited until she looked at him. “It’s killing me, you acting like this. I need you to be fighting mad.”

“You hate when I argue with you.”

“Yeah. No. I don’t know. I like you just the way you are. Or the way you are most of the time. Spicy.” He raised his eyebrows up and down.

She glanced longingly at his beer. “Wish I could have one of those.”

He slapped a notepad and pen on the island in front of her. “Grocery list. We’ll pick up some food tomorrow, too. We’ll have to leave here by two.”

“I can’t. I’m working.”

“Adam said he’d cover for you, and Sylvie will babysit the kids. I need you to go to town with me, Teressa. There’s some business we need to take care of.”

“Like what?”

Oh, no. If he got into that, they’d be up all night arguing. Best to spring it on her at the last minute. “Stuff.” He finished his beer and put the empty on the counter. “If it’ll make it easier for you, I’ll quit drinking beer.”

A gleam sparked in her eyes. “You? Quit drinking? Now I’ve heard everything.”

“No biggie.”

She hooted with derision. Personally, he thought she was overreacting, but he let it go.

“Want to bet?” she challenged him.

He may not have liked the direction of the conversation, but at least Teressa was back in fighting form. This was familiar ground for them. They were always challenging each other over silly things.

“Absolutely. A hundred bucks says I can quit drinking anytime I want.”

“I don’t have a hundred dollars.”

His smile grew wider. “What have you got?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter.” He loved watching her face turn a rosy pink as she punched him on the arm. She knew him too well. “I’ll let you pick out the name for the baby.”

“Really?” He frowned. “That’s a big responsibility.”

“I didn’t say I’d agree to use it.”

“What about the last name?”

“What about it?”

“I’d like my child to have my last name.”

She shook her head. “That won’t work. Both Sarah and Brendon have Wilder as their last name. It’ll be too confusing if their brother or sister has a different one.”

“That sucks. I just assumed when I had kids they’d have my name.” It surprised him how much it bothered him.

A yawn caught him by surprise. Because he had to start work so early in the morning, he was usually in bed by now. “We’ll talk about the name thing again. I’m too tired to argue with you right now. I’ve got to grab my clothes and sleeping bag out of the bedroom. I’ll try not to wake you in the morning.”

“Dusty?”

He stopped and turned back to her. “Yeah?”

“Thanks. For everything. I know you must be freaking out about...well, everything. If this—” she swept her hand as if to include the room “—doesn’t work out, I’ll find somewhere else to live.”

For the first time since he’d walked into her house tonight, panic tiptoed up his spine. They both knew there was nowhere else for her to live in Collina, except with her parents, and if he had any say in the matter, that wasn’t going to happen. He’d move out and let them have the house if he had to. But he knew if he told her that, she was contrary enough to pack up and leave that night.

But truthfully, the prospect of her—and Sarah and Brendon—staying was just as scary. It was a helluva situation they’d dug themselves into.

“Pops says you only get to live your life a day at a time. How about we concentrate on getting through tomorrow?”

“It’s a place to start,” she agreed.

He hated the sad smile on her face, and to stop himself from hugging her, he busied himself picking up a pair of dirty socks he’d kicked off by the door earlier. They both could use a hug, but she looked so fragile right now, he didn’t dare touch her. Last time he’d done that, she’d gotten pregnant.

CHAPTER FOUR

T
HE
NEXT
EVENING
, Teressa straightened in the passenger seat of Dusty’s truck and rubbed sleep from her eyes. She’d hardly slept a wink last night, her brain working overtime, much like a rat in a cage, trying to find a means of escape. She was grateful to Dusty for helping her, but she’d have preferred to rescue herself. Look what misery had come from depending on her parents. Her mother didn’t let an opportunity go by to remind her how much she’d helped her daughter. Teressa flat-out refused to be dependent on anyone ever again.

It was bad enough that at the moment she really had no alternative but to stay with Dusty. If he started in with the recriminations, she didn’t know what she’d do. It wasn’t as if she could run away from home. She didn’t have a home.

It helped knowing Dusty was a good man. They’d been friends for years and had always had this “thing” between them. Maybe if she hadn’t gotten pregnant with Sarah their relationship could have grown into something more. Brendon pretty much eliminated any possibility of that happening. But before she’d gotten pregnant with Sarah, she hadn’t planned on sticking around Collina, so even if she hadn’t had the kids, she and Dusty wouldn’t have happened. He belonged here, and he knew that, and that was one of the things she’d always liked about him. He knew exactly who he was.

And now she was living with her old friend and hated being so dependent on him. Dusty’s opinion meant more to her than almost anyone else’s in the village. She didn’t want him to think of her as a loser, although after that scene with Linda last night it was a little late to hope for anything close to respect from him.

She frowned when she realized they were in the parking lot of a bank, not the shopping mall as they’d planned. “How long will you be inside?” There was a Tim Hortons coffee shop across the street. Maybe she had time to pick up a couple of beverages.

Dusty released his seat belt. “I need you to come with me.”

She stilled. “Why?” Uh-oh. If his sigh was anything to go by, she wasn’t going to like his answer, and the last thing they needed was more stuff to fight about.

He draped his hands over the steering wheel and stared out the windshield. “We need to open a joint bank account. It’s the easiest way for us to pay the bills.”

She turned the idea over. “No.”

“It’s just so there’s money for food and...stuff. Whatever you need.”

She burrowed down in her seat.

“Look.” He finally turned to look at her. “I’ve got extra money right now to spend on the things we need for the house. You shouldn’t have to pay for repairs on my house, but you’ll probably be picking stuff up from time to time. And we have to buy food. I’m sure I eat the lion’s share of that. I’m just being practical. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

She clenched her teeth, willing away the ball of emotion stuck in her throat. She had no idea how to handle his casual generosity. Didn’t know if she wanted to handle it. “I’ve always taken care of myself.”

She felt the comforting weight of his hand on her head before he ran his fingers down through her hair. “I know you have. You’re amazing, how you always hold it together. But for now, this is the most practical way to cover our living costs. You can put money into the account whenever you want, okay?”

“I can’t do it. Sorry.” It was bad enough she had to move into his house like some kind of homeless woman. Her pride was still smarting from the shift of being independent to relying on Dusty’s goodwill for a roof over her and her babies’ heads. Her stomach had been queasy all day, and she didn’t think she could entirely blame that on morning sickness.

“Don’t take it personally, okay? I need to pay my own way. It’s bad enough I’m taking advantage of our friendship and living with you.”

He rolled his hand into a fist and tapped it on the steering wheel. “Pretty hard not to take that personally. I’m not good enough for you?”

She covered his hand with hers. “I don’t mean to hurt you, but I’m not budging on this. I need to maintain some control over my life. I’m not taking money from you.”

He gave a curt nod and backed out of the parking spot. “Have it your way.

“Remember the winter we were all into sliding on old man MacEachern’s hill, and I broke my Ziffy-Whomper sled?” he asked after driving a couple of blocks. “And even though you really wanted to be in the final race, you loaned me yours?”

Teressa smiled. “You won, too. I didn’t have a chance. I was too much of a lightweight.”

“You might have won. My point is, you let me use your sled, and I accepted your help.”

“It’s not the same. We were kids.”

“Okay, two years ago. Remember Tania-with-an-
i?
”

Teressa rolled her eyes. “Who could forget her?”

“I went out with her once, and she thought...I don’t know. That I was going to marry her. And you walked into the café with Sarah and Brendon and shoved Brendon into my arms and said something like,
‘Here’s your daddy.’
” He laughed. “I never saw Tania-with-an-
i
again.”

Teressa scowled out the window. Was she another Tania-with-an-
i,
hanging on to Dusty when he wanted to be free?

“You don’t remember?” Dusty glanced at her.

“I remember.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You
dated
me once, too.”

“Come on. There’s no comparison. You’re Teressa.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Well, you’re...you’re a friend, for one thing.”

What every woman who took one look at Dusty and his muscles and blue eyes and blond hair wanted to be—a friend.

Dusty was doing what came naturally to him, being a good guy. How long before he started to resent her and the children? Started? Boy was she in la-la land. He had to have resented her the minute he found out she was pregnant.

“My point is,” he persisted, “friends help friends.”

“I got your point, Dusty. I’m not taking your money. But thank you,” she added after a minute.

They drove the rest of the way to the mall in silence and went straight to the appliance section of a large department store. She headed to the back of the display, where they kept last years’ models, but Dusty caught her hand in his and tugged her toward the front. “I like the flat-tops,” he said.

“They’re more expensive.”

“The old ones are harder to keep clean. Pick one of these.” He pointed to a line of midrange stoves.

Hmm. She ran her fingertips over the smooth ceramic top, tapped out a tune on the digital keypad. Against her will, a little thrill ran through her. She’d never owned a brand-new anything before. Deciding to get serious, she took her time examining each one and questioning the salesclerk. After the first ten minutes, Dusty wandered over to the flat-screen televisions, but she refused to make a decision without him at least looking at what she thought was the best buy. They ended up buying a stove, a refrigerator, a dryer and a bunk-bed set. He’d just bought a new washer and dishwasher in the summer. Against her protests—What did he need a second flat screen TV for? He had a gigantic one at home—he bought a smaller flat screen. She justified the purchases as things Dusty needed or wanted for his house anyway. Except for the bunk beds, but every house could use a set, right? And if she moved out, she’d buy them from him. Not that she mentioned her plan.

“I’m starving.” Dusty rubbed his stomach as they exited the store.

“I could eat. The question is where?” She looked around the food court attached to the mall. Nothing appealed to her.

“There’s a microbrewery over on Staples that’s supposed to serve good pub food.”

She raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.

He frowned at her and stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. “Right. No drinking. I forgot. Okay,” he said after a minute, “how about the new Thai restaurant on the waterfront? You like Thai food?”

She loved Thai food, but all the restaurants on the waterfront were expensive. She hunched her shoulders. “I’m not in the mood for an upscale dining experience tonight.”

He sent her a sideways glance. “Don’t suppose you’d let me take my friend out to dinner?”

Her stomach cramped with tension. Living with Dusty wasn’t going to work. She didn’t want to be taken care of. If she had to be in a relationship, she wanted to be an equal partner.

“Pizza it is, then,” he said when she remained silent.

“I’m not trying to be difficult,” she said as they pulled out of the parking lot.

“Right.” By his tense reply she could tell he was fed up. Who could blame him? He’d been a goddamn prince.

“Would you feel comfortable if a woman paid all your expenses and let you move into her house?”

He huffed out a laugh. “I wish.”

“Really?”

He stopped at the red light and looked over at her. “I get your point. You don’t want anything from me.”

She lowered her chin. “That’s not it, either.”

“Then what the hell is your problem?” A car beeped behind them, and he drove through the intersection.

“My problem is I’ll never be able to pay you back, because for the next twenty years or so, all my extra money will go to raising my children,” she yelled. “And I can’t stand things not being equal between us. I want to be my own woman, live in my own house and pay my own bills.”

“Fine.” He pulled into the restaurant parking lot and jerked on the emergency brake after turning off the truck. “You can start by paying for the pizza tonight, and I want an eighteen-inch.” He climbed out and walked into the pizzeria, leaving her sitting alone in the dark.

She stared out the windshield. That went well. Not. She had to get a grip. She wasn’t the only one making a huge adjustment. Dusty’s life had been turned upside down, as well. Truth was he was taking the harder hit of the two. She had to lighten up, and she had to start thinking of him. She slipped out of the truck. After they ate, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

“I hope you didn’t order anchovies.” She slipped into the booth across the table from him.

“Pepperoni, green peppers, mushrooms and black olives,” he said.

She grinned. “You remembered.”

“No, that was for me. What did you want?”

“Ha-ha.” She opened the menu. “I might order a salad, too. I haven’t eaten anything green today.”

“You threw out the last of Adam’s pea soup?”

“Oh, gag. Don’t remind me.” Adam had discovered pea soup, and in his enthusiasm had made far more than any living soul could consume in a lifetime. Every time she turned around, pea soup kept showing up as the lunch special. “Truth is, I did throw it out.”

“No way. He thinks it got eaten. He even said he thought he should make another batch.”

Teressa laughed. “I know. I didn’t want to tell him I raided the freezer and chucked the last twenty gallons out, but I may have to if he insists on making more.”

Dusty leaned back in his seat. “You two work together well, don’t you?”

The waitress brought the water and coffee Dusty had ordered, and Teressa ordered a garden salad.

“Yes, we do,” she answered when the waitress left. “I like Adam a lot. Your sister is a lucky woman.”

“Yeah.” He looked out the window as if the cars driving by were far more interesting than anything she had to say. No surprise he found her a boring dinner date. She spent most of her time divided between barking out orders in the café kitchen and playing with her kids.

“I have one more store I need to go to before we do the grocery shopping.”

“Sure. Anything you need.”

The food arrived, and they busied themselves with filling their plates and eating the first piece of pizza without talking. The longer Dusty remained silent, the more Teressa fidgeted. It had always been so easy to talk to him before. She’d never have imagined they’d run out of things to talk about.

Desperately, she searched for something they could discuss. “We need to figure out the bedrooms. I guess we can put the kids together for a while longer, and I’ll take the smallest bedroom. My bed should fit into it.”

His face closed down even more. “If that’s what you want.”

“I need to get the kids settled as soon as possible,” she explained. “They need to have their toys and books and things around them.”

“We can clean out one of the bedrooms tonight and set it up for them,” he offered.

“We’ll put all the stuff from that room into the small bedroom. I’ll sleep on the couch in the living room, and you can have your bed back.”

When he got a stubborn look on his face, she put up her hand. “You’re fishing, Dusty. You need your sleep.”

“You’re working at the café and looking after your children. You need yours.”

“Fine.” She picked a green pepper off her pizza. “When you get up, I’ll crawl into your bed and catch another few hours of sleep.” She shivered, thinking of how delicious it would feel to crawl into Dusty’s still-warm bed.

“We’ll get that second bedroom cleaned out as soon as we can. Most of the stuff is from the kitchen and living room because we were going to tackle those rooms first.”

“I still think that’s a good idea. We need a common living area.”

He took another piece of pizza. “Starting tomorrow Josh is going to be working on the house during the day. I thought he should begin with the flooring, but if you need him to work on something else, just let him know when he arrives.”

“I think the flooring is as good a place as any to start.” She bit her tongue. She made his place sound like a total disaster area. Which it was, but still... “I need to find a babysitter for the kids after school.”

She watched as Dusty’s eyes followed a waitress who was carrying a tray full of glasses of beer. Right. Not hard to tell what his priorities were.

“I’m sorry.” He turned to her. “What did you say?”

“I need a babysitter for the children after school,” she snapped. “Linda used to pick them up from school and watch them until I finished work.”

“I usually get in around four, but I’m going to be pretty busy working on the house.”

Tears ambushed her for the hundredth time that day. She didn’t remember feeling this emotional when she was pregnant with Sarah or Brendon, and heaven knew her life had been a mess then, too, but for different reasons. She wasn’t turning into a drama queen, was she?