She expelled a heartfelt sigh. “It didn’t have to end that way.”
“It doesn’t have to end at all. Not if we don’t want it to.”
She turned away and covered her face with both hands. He went to stand behind her. “Sometimes what we think we want isn’t what’s best for us.”
Gently he encircled her waist with his arms and pulled her back against him. “How will we know unless we try?”
She leaned her head back against his shoulder. “Oh, no. I’m not falling for that logic twice. That’s what got me into this mess.”
His hand naturally sought her still flat stomach. “What mess?”
She tensed and he waited.
There was something so wrong and so right about being in Grant’s arms again. It was difficult to convince her body he was the source of her nervousness rather than her comfort.
I shouldn’t have gone after him. I should have let him take a punch and leave. The longer he stays the harder it is to remember why I can’t tell him about the baby.
Without the baby, would I already be kissing him, giving myself over to how he makes me feel? Am I so weak that I might slip up and go that route regardless?
How would he react to the news?
Would he run back to Boston, hoping I don’t have the nerve to follow?
Would he want joint custody?
How would that work with a man I hardly know?
She turned in his arms and tilted her face back so she could see his expression. Are you a good man, Grant Barrington? If I tell you, will you treasure this baby?
Just then the door of her office flew open and her brother, Dylan, said, “Now can we kill him?”
Viviana stepped out of Grant’s arms and moved in front of him. “No one is killing anyone.” Although she tried to sound confident, she shivered with apprehension when Connor came in, followed by her father. “Dad, don’t do anything rash.”
Her father nodded, but walked up to Grant. “Is this him?”
“Yes. He came by to apologize.” She had no idea how her father would react to meeting him since they were entering into uncharted territory. What she did know, though, was if she did tell him about the baby, she didn’t want to do it like this.
“Well, that’s a start,” her father said as he held out his hand to Grant. “I’m Sean Sutton. Viviana’s father. You must be Grant Barrington.”
Grant winced then shook his hand. “Yes, that’s me.”
The two men took a moment to size each other up. Her father had the strength of a man who worked hard, but Grant matched him in height and breadth of shoulders. Dylan and Connor flanked their father and Viviana was pleasantly surprised when Grant didn’t seem intimidated by them, either. They were a formidable wall of muscle most men backed down from.
“Long drive from Boston?” her father asked when he released Grant’s hand.
“I flew in,” Grant answered. When her father seemed to be waiting for more information, Grant added, “By helicopter to Marsh Airfield.”
“Helicopter? Really? What kind?” Connor asked.
Dylan punched him in the arm. “It doesn’t matter.”
Viviana closed her eyes briefly. She usually found her brothers’ antics amusing, but not at that moment.
Her father asked, “So, you’re leaving tonight?”
Grant shrugged. “My plan was to stay . . . in a local hotel if I could find one.”
“No longer necessary,” her father answered without hesitation. “Any friend of Viviana’s should stay at the main house. There’s plenty of empty rooms. Especially now that Viviana lives on her own.”
Why, why didn’t I tell my father that Grant doesn’t know?
Oh, yeah, because he wouldn’t have agreed with that decision.
“Dad, he was only joking. He’s not staying.”
Dylan chimed in as well. “Bad idea, Dad. We don’t know him.”
“You a thief?” Her father pinned down Grant with one of his most intimidating looks.
“No, sir,” Grant answered with just enough respect that her father relaxed somewhat.
“Then unless you give me a reason to change my mind, my home is open to you. Why don’t we all have dinner together tonight and get to know each other? We have a lot to talk about.”
No, Dad. No. Viviana said, “I’m sure Grant—”
“Thank you,” Grant said. “And dinner sounds lovely. I always enjoy sampling someone else’s chef’s dishes.”
An awkward silence followed. Viviana’s eyes flew to Grant’s. Was he making fun of her family? She said, “The chef’s name changes nightly at our house. I believe tonight is Connor’s turn so we’re probably having pizza again.”
“Oh, of course.” Grant’s expression looked like a man who’d just realized he sounded pretentious. “I like pizza.”
“I’m sure,” Dylan countered with narrowed eyes. “Rats love cheese.”
Rats? What was Dylan talking about?
Grant shook his head as if denying an accusation that Viviana had somehow missed. Had they been alone, she would have asked Grant about it, but right then she was more concerned with finding a way to stop Grant from getting so cozy with her father. If I can get a moment alone with him, I’m sure I can make him see how insane of an idea that is.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Dad? You’re scheduled for a roof appraisal in Greenville. It’s a half hour out and then back. If you’re shooting to be home for dinner you’d better get going.”
Her father kissed her cheek then gave Grant one last, measured look. “I’ll be back in a couple hours.”
One down. Viviana turned to her brothers. “The highway department is done with the dump truck. It needs to be picked up, cleaned, and checked if it’s going out again tomorrow.”
Dylan looked at Connor. “I dropped it off.”
Connor shook his head. “I’m not picking it up and doing maintenance on it.”
Their father added, “Go together. Someone needs to drive the car back. Clean it while you look it over, and you’ll be back at the house by seven.”
They grumbled but agreed.
A few minutes later, Viviana found he
rself alone with Grant again. “I’ll explain to my family that you had some kind of emergency and had to return to Boston.”
He turned and stepped closer to her, close enough that she found it difficult to concentrate on anything beyond how her body began to hum for him. “I’m staying.”
I knew you’d say that.
Oh, God.
“I’m pregnant,” she blurted.
“I know,” he answered without blinking.
She couldn’t remember ever getting as angry as fast as she did just then. “How do you know?” Audrey?
“How doesn’t matter. What does matter is I’m here, and I want to give us a chance, Viviana.” He ran his hands up and down her arms in a comforting fashion that only fanned her temper.
“There isn’t an us.” Her head was spinning. If he already knew, that meant he was there because he’d found out.
“There is if you want there to be.”
Because of the baby.
His face blurred as tears filled Viviana’s eyes. She picked up a vase of flowers. “I’m sorry, but I’ve reached my max on men who are interested in me only since they’ve heard I’m pregnant.” She smashed the vase on the floor. “I don’t need anyone who didn’t want me before.” She picked up another vase and smashed that one on the floor as well. “I don’t want to date them.” She sent another vase to the ground. “I don’t want to marry them.” And another. “This was supposed to make me feel better, but all it’s done is make me feel worse. I don’t want pity, and I don’t need a man to take care of me.” She sent one final vase crashing to the floor then stood there, breathing heavily, not caring what Grant thought of her.
She was so angry she was shaking.
He wrapped his arms around her and simply held her. She wanted to hate his touch. Her brain told her to pull away and ask him what part of what she’d said hadn’t been in English. Instead, she laid her head on his, even while her fisted hands struck at his back.
Finally, when she quieted, he kissed the top of her head and said, “The last thing I want to do is hurt you more. Hear me out just once, then if you want me to leave, I will. I will want to stay in touch because I cannot imagine not being part of my child’s life, but we’ll do it in a way you’re comfortable with.”
