Daddy in the Making

chapter Six

The tension was almost strong enough to be bullet-proof, and Rita couldn’t stand a moment more of waiting as she looked at Conn and he looked at her.

Seconds languished.

Heat surrounded them.

“I could use something to drink,” she said finally.

Yup. Leave it to her to ruin a moment.

At first, he seemed stymied. But then he laughed, slowly letting her go, much to her relief.

“I’ll get us something,” he said.

As a fast song started up, he made his way toward the bar, coming back with two lemonades with mint sprigs decorating the rims. Then he jerked his chin toward the quieter side room, silently asking if she wanted to go in there.

They found an empty table toward the back, and after he set down the drinks, he pulled out a chair for her to sit.

After she did, he said, “I know you’ve got a spot at the bridal-party table, but I thought you might like a break from some of the noise.”

“You just want to show me that you’re responsible, right?” she asked.

He shrugged good-naturedly, then took a seat next to her. The awkwardness of their situation still loomed, but she didn’t want it to settle. Not when it seemed so simple right now to remember why they’d gotten together that one night. Every awful thing that had come afterward didn’t seem to matter as much while they were in this secluded space, away from everyone else.

When she rubbed her palm over her tummy—a gesture that had become a soothing habit—she caught him watching.

Did he want to feel the bump? It sure looked like it.

Again, she thought of the sonogram, and how she’d wished for him to see it, too.

It was clear that he sensed her confusion. “You’re scared to death that I’m going to treat you like your ex-fiancé did, aren’t you?”

She didn’t know what to say at his bluntness.

“Don’t be afraid.” He leaned forward in his chair, his hands clasped.

She noticed how strong they were, work-roughened, and her pulse skipped.

“Rita, you can trust me. And don’t say that I can’t be sure of that because I have no past to base that on. I know it deep down.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“You say that as if you’re still not sure.” He sat back in his chair. “Hell, I suppose I can’t blame you.”

He pushed his hat back on his head, and his face just about broke her heart all over again. It wasn’t just that he was as handsome as the devil—there was something about him that got to her, reaching inside and twisting.

“You weren’t my first affair on the road,” he said. “My brothers tell me that I was pretty good at playing the field, that I didn’t stay in one woman’s arms for long.”

There it went again—a needling ache in her chest. But how could she have ever thought that she was the first for him?

“You never had a long-term girlfriend?” she asked.

“Not even close, as far as I understand. But after I got out of the hospital, I tried to find out if my brothers were wrong. I dug through old pictures, looked through my email accounts, but there wasn’t one photo of a woman, and there weren’t any messages or love letters showing that I had some kind of relationship waiting in the wings—or that I even had a significant one in the past. And I didn’t have any phone numbers for women outside of business stored in my phone.”

Rita’s heart was sinking with every word. “What makes you think you won’t go back to being that way?”

“Because I don’t feel like the same man I keep hearing about,” he said, his voice firm.

Rita surveyed Conn, but there was nothing duplicitous about him. What would he have to gain by coming back here?

And why did she keep having to doubt his word?

“So you’re telling me that you’ve come here to change your life?” she asked.

“Yeah. What if this is the man I’m meant to be?”

He sounded so damned full of conviction that it wrung her out.

“I’m going to live up to whatever a baby would need, Rita,” he said. “My ranch isn’t so far away that I couldn’t be here for him or her.”

He was making a commitment—or at least the best one he could manage on this tenuous ground.

Should she offer as much back to him, tell him that she was carrying a girl?

No. That wasn’t a step she was prepared to take. Not just yet. It seemed too much to give up too soon.

“Are you talking about visitation rights?” she asked.

“I’m not getting into legal stuff. I just want to be an important part of this child’s life.”

Just the thought of losing this baby to a half-baked custody arrangement made her nerves flail.

Damn him. Damn her, too, for not being able to trust him.

Nipped by panic, she fought to distance herself from him, to see if he would change his mind about coming on so strong if she showed him that it wasn’t working with her. “Is this all about proving this ‘new man’ theory to yourself, Conn?”

He kept his silence.

“I mean,” she said, “you’re not losing sight of what it really means to be a dad in all this, are you? Fatherhood’s not a part-time deal. A child takes everything you have to give—your heart, soul and more time than a human actually has at their disposal.”

He was already shaking his head. “Just stop right there. Clearly, I’m not doing a good job of saying what I really want to say to you.”

“Which is...?”

“That I came here to win you over, Rita. About the baby and...”

As he trailed off, a shock jolted her.

“And what?” she asked.

He bent forward, taking her hand again, just as if he was about to lead her out of the room and onto the floor for another dance.

A dance she didn’t know the steps to, but wanted so badly to learn, if only she could allow herself to.

“Rita?”

At the sound of the female voice, Rita dragged her glance away from Conn. She saw her sister, Kim, who was uncomfortably garbed in an ill-fitting floral skirt and blouse paired with her Resistol hat and Justin boots. She made her way through the other tables, which were still basically empty because of the dancing in the bigger room.

“Here you are,” she said. “You’re the only one missing at the wedding party’s table.”

“I’ll be right there,” Rita said as Kim gave Conn an arch look, then left.

Conn rose to his feet, extending a hand to help Rita out of her chair. “Maybe you could just take a drive with me after the wedding. A short one.”

She looked at his offered hand. Taking a drive would be the first real step into something beyond a mere tap dance around the true issues between them. Taking a drive would mean taking a risk.

Once more, she saw a flash of her little baby’s sonogram.

With a held breath, Rita grasped on to his hand, and he pulled her gently to her feet.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

* * *

Here they were again, Conn on one side of a truck cab and Rita on the other with the radio playing a soft tune as the late-afternoon scenery rolled by.

But unlike the time he’d taken her to the fish shack, it was his own truck he was driving today, and things were somewhat less awkward between them, now that they’d cleared a bit of air back at the wedding.

That wasn’t to say all their issues were taken care of. It was obvious that Rita still didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

Yet could he fault her for that? She’d been crushed before by a jerk who’d left her to raise a child alone. The past was repeating itself for Rita, and it would take a lot of winning over for Conn to persuade her that he wasn’t going to be the same as her ex.

A tweak of conscience got to him as he wondered if, maybe, he might turn out to be a whole lot more like him than he would like.

He turned off the main road near the Heartland condominium complex, where he’d heard Tony Amati used to have a ranch before it was torn down for the sake of modern progress.

“Are we going where I think we are?” Rita asked.

She didn’t sound put out that he’d kept her guessing ever since they’d left the reception. In fact, she smiled at him, looking every bit as breathtaking as she had earlier, when he’d first seen her across the saloon in her creamed-coffee-colored dress and with her hair arranged in a bundle of curls, just as if she were at some old-time ball. Honestly, Conn thought she’d been just as appealing—sexier, even—this morning in those sweats that clung to her curves, but he couldn’t stop gazing at her either way.

“And where do you think we’re going?” he asked, guiding the truck toward a copse of pines off the country lane.

“Lookout Point.”

“We’ll see if you’re right about that soon enough.”

He pulled the truck into a spot near some flat rocks, cut the engine, then went around to her side. After opening the door, he aided her in getting out. This dress showcased her belly, and he was itching to put his hand on the curve of it.

Was that weird, or did it just mean he was father material?

“I thought,” he said, “that this might be a peaceful place to talk, away from any ears.”

Since the November weather still hadn’t turned cold, she had brought a thin, sheer wrap, and she wound it around her. “Do you know the stories about this place?”

“I’ve heard a few rumblings in town, that’s why it caught my attention. There’s something about how Tony Amati used to come to this very spot when he got here in the 1920s, and he would look down on the land that would hold his town someday. He used to picture it, dream about it, until it came to fruition.”

They started walking through the trees, their shoes crunching over pine needles, toward a place where the branches opened up over a mild drop-off where you could see St. Valentine down below in the near distance. The white church seemed to gleam in the center of the old part of town while, on the east side, mansions and pools waned under the softening gaze of the sun.

Rita took a seat on a rock that boasted a flat surface, as if it’d been sat on so many times that it had been shaped for just such a thing.

Except Conn noticed there was room for two.

“They also call this Heartbreak Hill,” Rita said, hugging her wrap around herself. “Supposedly, there were doomed lovers who used to meet here.”

Was she giving him some kind of warning? “Who were they?”

“The old-timers will tell you it’s the same couple who haunts my hotel. If you believe the stories.”

Conn leaned his shoulder against a tree. “Sounds as if you know a few of those stories, seeing as it’s your hotel.”

“Oh, they’re mostly legends. The couple consisted of a gentleman passing through town on his way west to seek a better future and a good-time girl who liked her booze and boys. They got caught by her husband and gunned down.”

“So those are your resident ghosts?”

“Right. Every once in a while, we’ll get some nervous Nellies who come in and tell tales about spirits materializing by their bed or touching their shoulder while they were shaving. Funny thing is, though, that it’s never in the room where the deaths supposedly occurred. But it’s good for business. It draws in the curious, especially nowadays with the Tony Amati story.”

Conn chuckled. “If I’d known this was a spot for the doomed, I would’ve kept away from here.”

Rita paused, then hugged herself even tighter. “I’m hoping our doomed phase has passed, Conn.”

What exactly did that mean? They’d had such a bumpy conversation at the wedding that he wasn’t sure just where he stood with her right now. That’s why he’d wanted to talk to her afterward, for some clarification.

All he knew for sure was that he’d meant every word he’d said to her about being the man he felt he was today. It was as if he’d been born to say such things to her, to make such promises about being responsible.

And when she’d asked if he was overlooking the reality of truly being a father, he’d at first been taken aback, wondering if she had a point.

Was the baby quite real to him yet? Or was he chasing some dream?

His gaze strayed to her again, as it inevitably did, time after time. Without even planning to, he took a step closer to her. “What’s it going to take to win you over, Rita?”

A hitch of breath, a quick look. “Win me over?”

“That’s right, because the more I’m around you, the more I wonder what that night truly meant to me. I feel like I was really going to come back for a second night with you, you know.” He didn’t add that he wasn’t sure how long he would’ve stayed. Because, with the way he was feeling now, it could’ve been forever.

If he could depend on his gut instinct.

Her eyes were pools of gray, glassy with a wariness that he would do anything to vanquish. “I just don’t know how far to trust you. Or...me.”

“That’s understandable.” He came a step closer.

“I’m not even sure where to start.”

“You started by saying yes a few times today. Dancing with me, coming out here with me, introducing me to Violet when you went to the wedding table...”

It hadn’t been a long greeting, but it had meant something to him. An acceptance of sorts, as small as it was.

“I don’t know how many yeses will get me in trouble,” Rita said. “It seems that they always do.”

He bent to a knee by the rock. “The trouble has to end sometime. And it sounds to me like you have the talent to turn a tough situation into something good, like you did with Kristy.”

Rita sighed as the sky blushed to orange over a darker blue.

“Maybe it’s just a matter of us spending more time together,” she said. “Getting to know each other, since you’re so hell-bent on sticking around.”

“I’d like that.”

“Would you?” She gave him a challenging look. “Then there’s an event tomorrow at the high school. The Chamber of Commerce sponsors a lunch for a lot of natural-gas field employees coming home for Thanksgiving week.”

She’d snagged a bit on the last part, and he guessed it might be because her ex had been one of those employees who’d returned from the fields at this time of the year.

She composed herself. “In the past, more than a few employees would save vacation time to come home, and for the past few years the town has thrown this lunch to promote a sense of community. Not that there was ever much of one before.”

“What happened to change that this year?”

“Davis Jackson’s attempts to strengthen the economy are finally paying off. And Violet’s done a lot to help, especially when it comes to promoting St. Valentine with the Tony Amati story. I think people saw that if a guy from the rich part of town and a miner’s girl could come together, everyone else should give it a shot, too.”

“Well, you can count me in for that lunch,” he said.

“Even if they ask you to serve tables?”

He lifted an eyebrow.

She shrugged. “I’m a volunteer, since I’m a member of the Chamber of Commerce, so you might get pressed into service, too.”

“It won’t be a problem.”

It seemed as if he’d said just the right thing to her. She gazed at him, then smiled, absently resting a hand on her tummy, as he noticed she often did.

He watched her, imagining...

As if in surrender, she took him by the hand. “Jeez, you’re killing me. Here.”

When she placed his palm on her belly, saying “yes” to him yet another time today, his world expanded with the force of a bursting heartbeat.

God, this felt good, and he couldn’t say exactly why. Maybe it was more intimate than he ever remembered being with anyone. Maybe it was because he could picture the baby inside, a child who already had his eyes, his nose.

Now, more than ever, as he imagined everything else about this child, he knew he’d made the right choice in coming back to St. Valentine.

He just had to make sure Rita came to realize it, too.

* * *

On the way home, Rita felt a hum of awareness between her and Conn, almost as if it were some sort of force field that was rising up from the truck’s seat. It didn’t help that the buzz of tires on the road filled her head, adding to the illusion.

But hadn’t most of the day been something like a dream? Him showing up at the church this morning, then the reception, then the both of them going to Heartbreak Hill, where she’d let him touch her baby bump?

She wasn’t sure what it was about Conn that made her act so impulsively sometimes. When she had seen him looking at how she was rubbing the slight mound of her tummy under her bridesmaid’s dress, her blood had shot straight to her heart, and she had thought, What would be the harm in just indulging him for a second?

And she had brought his hand over to her stomach, holding back a long, sharp sigh as the imprint of his fingers, his palm, seeped into her.

After that, she had played the moment off, laughing awkwardly, telling him that the baby would be happy that he had said his first hello. All the while, Conn had smiled, as if Rita had given him something that he would never get again—or had ever gotten.

Not that he would know that for certain, though.

They were approaching Piell’s Gas Station on the road into town, with its old Phillips 66 and Pumps Are Open signs lit under the fallen night.

“Mind if I stop?” Conn asked. “My tank could use some gas.”

“Fine with me.”

Stopping would give her a breather from that electrified force field that was still trying to pull her closer to him, so she was all for it. But as he stopped the truck, climbed out and went inside to pre-pay for the gas, she didn’t get a break of any kind—not as she watched the way he ambled toward the convenience store, the way his jeans molded to his legs, his slim hips flaring up to a broad back and wide shoulders under his blue shirt.

Once upon a time, she had pressed her bare chest against that back, luxuriating in the feel of her breasts against corded muscle and smooth skin. It had been a long time since she had been that close to a man. Her, a woman who had been intimate with only one other guy her entire life.

But she had known that Conn was it for her in that moment.

Had she been so wrong?

Pushing away the question—she knew better than to give in to him again—she blew out a breath, grabbing the beaded clutch she had brought to the wedding so she could put a coat of lip balm on. Then she got a glimpse of her phone screen, and she saw that she had missed a text from Violet.





Disappeared with Conn just as soon as you could, didn’t you? :)





It had come through about an hour ago, when Rita had been on Heartbreak Hill with Conn. She texted back.





Aren’t you supposed to be going on a honeymoon?





Violet must’ve had her phone handy, because Rita’s rang. Leave it to a reporter to jump on a breaking story.

“We’re leaving for the airport in a half hour,” Vi said just as soon as Rita answered. “So that gives me time to bug you.”

“I can’t talk long.” Rita could see Conn through the window of the convenience store. Ori Piell, who had his Pennzoil cap on backward, was talking Conn’s ear off, and Conn’s manners were obviously too good to cut the bearded man’s conversation short.

Rita added, “If you’re calling to make sure I haven’t done anything stupid with Conn yet, you’re in luck. I’m holding strong.”

“I’m impressed. He’s cute, Rita.”

She glowed with something like blushing agreement. “In spite of all the baggage, you mean.”

“He seemed to be keeping everything together when I met him at the wedding.”

“That’s because Conn is as charming as they come. I can tell you firsthand that he’s able to make a girl believe anything he wants her to.”

Rita frowned at her own words. Was that what was happening with him now? Was she falling into a “Conn trap,” snagged by his charm for the moment and setting herself up for a fall in the end?

“Well,” Vi said. “I’m just altogether impressed that you’re dealing with this head-on.”

“I’ve only yet begun to deal. Kristy’s going to be real curious about him, and I’m not sure how to approach that whole scenario yet.”

“Because she’s never really had a man in her life, and Conn’s the first one who’s going to be in it.”

“Wait—I don’t know how much he’s going to be a part of my life. It’s too soon to tell. We still have to work out the details about how this baby will be raised.” If he stayed the course with all the promises he was making.

Vi apparently heard the doubt in Rita’s tone. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

“Thanks. But in the meantime, I’ve got to think of a way to keep Kristy from getting her hopes up when she sees me spending time with Conn. She’s already giving him puppy-eyed looks, like she’s measuring him up.”

He was coming out of the convenience store, and Rita quelled a blip of adrenaline that shocked her through and through.

“I should go,” she said as he got to the truck and started to put gas in the tank. “And you should, too, Mrs. Jackson.”

Vi and Davis had planned to stay in a few Scottish castles as they explored the country for the next week and a half. What a life.

“Mrs. Jackson,” Vi said with a sigh. “I used to secretly write that all over my high school notebooks when Davis and I were kids. Now it’s real.”

“Lucky.” Rita smiled, happy that her friend’s dreams had come true. “Travel safe, and say hi to the groom.”

“Will do. And Rita?”

“You don’t have to say anything more about sucking it up and taking a chance.” Rita watched Conn in the sideview mirror. “I’m taking more of them than I ever imagined.”

They said goodbye, and soon, Conn was done, getting into the truck and tipping back his hat on his head.

“That Ori fellow?” he said, motioning toward the convenience store. “Nice as can be, but he could talk a donkey’s hind leg off.”

Rita laughed. She hadn’t expected much humor tonight, but sometimes Conn had a way about him.

He started the truck up. “Sorry it took me longer than it should’ve.”

“No sorries required.”

He drove the short distance back to her hotel, where a hint of stars twinkled in the night sky. He pulled up in front of the boardwalk, then insisted on opening the passenger-side door for her, reaching out a hand to help her to the ground.

The gesture was so gentlemanly, especially with her in this long satin dress, that Rita almost felt as if some old-fashioned courting was going on.

And, God help her, she liked it.

When he started to bring her to the empty boardwalk and the front door, Rita stopped him.

This wasn’t a date, after all.

“It was nice to get a few things in order,” she said.

“It was a start.”

Conn was so tall that she had to look up at him. His height—and his wiry strength—made her pulse flutter.

She cleared her throat. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon at the high school gym for the Chamber of Commerce lunch then?”

“Definitely.” He said it again, as if he was determined to show her just how reliable he could be.

That should’ve been the capper on the night, yet, for some reason, she wasn’t going anywhere. It was as if he still had a pull on her—that magnetic force that wouldn’t allow her to leave.

As she looked up at him again, she lingered on the shape of his mouth. She had said yes to him several times today, so what if she just leaned in a little closer...?

It seemed as if he were thinking the same thing, because he came a bit nearer, close enough so that she could hear him breathing.

And every breath made her go a little weaker.

But then, as if he remembered why he was here—to prove that he was more than that scattered playboy—he backed away toward the truck.

“’Night, Rita,” he said.

She blinked, her skin heating.

Had that just been her, inviting a kiss?

“’Night, Conn,” she said quickly. Then she climbed the couple of steps leading up to the boardwalk, wanting to get inside as soon as possible.

Yet she couldn’t stop herself from glancing back at him, finding him still standing there by his truck, as if he didn’t want to go anywhere, either.

Rita opened the lobby door and shut it firmly behind her, before she could change her mind and say yes to him one too many times.