Home to Laura

chapter SEVENTEEN



“I’VE SPENT MORE TIME in Accord in the past six months than I have for my whole life.” Nick pulled his stiff shirt collar away from his neck.

The tuxedo rental shop hadn’t got the size right. He should have brought his own.

He stood at the altar beside Gabe, who stood beside Ty. Nick had expected Ty to be nervous on his wedding day, but no. The man was as cool as a cucumber.

Nick could never get married again, let alone look so confident doing it.

A few stragglers still entered the church.

Laura Cameron walked in just as a shaft of September sunlight flowed into the church, setting her chestnut hair on fire. She wore a purple dress that he suspected was a maternity dress because she looked wider than when he’d left.

The baby was growing.

His baby was growing.

Her skin shone. He didn’t know what kind of vitamins she was taking, or whether hormones did that to a woman, but she glowed from within.

Five months later, he still didn’t know what to do about the baby. For a man of decision, it rankled.

Laura slipped into a seat in the back row.

The church was full. Ty was respected not only in town, but also in the county, for his law-keeping skills, his cool head and his steady character.

The wedding march started and Ruby and Emily walked down the aisle, pretty in pink ballet-length gowns with big white bows at their waists. At least, Emily had called them ballet-length. What did he know?

Pride constricted Nick’s throat, made his vision mist.

His preteen daughter was already a striking beauty, not to mention a smart cookie, and growing up too quickly for comfort.

He winked at her and she grinned.

Tammy entered the aisle behind the girls, breathtakingly gorgeous in a one-shoulder white gown that started with a small bow on her shoulder and draped across the oversize beach ball she carried in her belly then ended at her knees.

Even at nine months, she looked elegant.

Apparently, she was due in two weeks. Nick thought they should have waited until after the baby was born, but neither Ty nor Tammy would agree.

Despite what a pretty bride Tammy made, Nick’s eye was drawn to Laura. He hadn’t seen her since that last game he’d coached before he and Emily returned home for the rest of the summer.

Funny that he’d been dying to get back home, but life in Seattle had felt flat.

He pushed himself at work, but hired a second assistant so he could continue in his promise to spend more time with Emily.

He took her out to shows and museums.

Seattle was his home, where he did business, so why did it feel so flat even while he spent more time with his daughter? Because they’d had more fun here in Accord.

Laura noticed him watching her and stared back, her eyes wide, as caught up in the moment as he. When he’d left Accord, they’d been friends, a concept foreign to Nick—to be friends with a woman to whom he felt so attracted. Shared interests and their few warm conversations added depth to that confounding crazy-hot attraction.

Time stretched on until Gabe nudged him with an elbow. Startled, he turned to his brother.

Oh. Tammy had already arrived at the front and they were all supposed to be facing the minister.

His face burned, which was strange. He never blushed.

The ceremony was beautiful and Nick felt for his brother. He and Tammy were making their own brand of happiness and Nick couldn’t be more proud of Ty for taking that huge chance on the Fourth of July to bring his family together as best he could.

Good for him for marrying the woman he loved and for Gabe, too, for marrying Callie.

Later, after the ceremony and after the couple’s first dance, people started coming up to him and asking questions like, “When are you going to make an honest woman out of Laura?”

It seemed that everyone in town knew his business, and what he should do about it.

He cornered Laura and asked, “What the hell is going on?”

Her eyes widened. The soft smile fell from her lips like water.

He went on, angry and heedless, “Did you tell everyone that I was the father and wouldn’t marry you? They’re all acting like you’re the pretty little sheep and I’m the big bad wolf.”

She stiffened. “I told no one anything. I don’t know how they found out. If I’d told them I wouldn’t have slanted the story that way. I’ve tried to be more than fair with you.” She looked down at his fingers wrapped around her upper arm, wrinkling the fabric of her sleeve. “Let go of me.”

He did and she walked away without another word, head high. She looked confident, strong, but he’d already figured out that he had the power to hurt her. He’d certainly shot down their fledgling friendship.

By the time Ty and Tammy were ready to cut the cake, Nick was ready to plant a fist into the face of the next person who tried to meddle in his life.

While servers handed out cake, Tammy turned her back on the crowd to throw her bouquet. Single women lined up behind her. A bunch of women coaxed—and pushed—Laura into the line with the other women. The bouquet barreled toward her and she put her hand out to stop it from hitting her face.

Unfortunately, instinct kicked in and her fingers curled around it. She’d “caught” the flowers.

Nick smirked. Some lucky sod would marry Laura someday but it wouldn’t be him.

An older man he couldn’t remember—Nick must have known who he was at some point because the man had lived his entire life in Accord—said, “Laura deserves better than to be given the shaft. When are you going to marry her?”

“Never,” he shouted, no longer worried about what people thought. He was sick to death of his life being everyone else’s business. “I’m never going to marry Laura Cameron. Got it?”

“Yeah. I think the whole room got it.”

Too late, Nick noticed his surroundings. The room was quiet. Laura stood a short distance away clutching the bouquet. A waiter shoved a small plate with cake on it into her other hand. She dropped the flowers, stepped close and said to Nick, “I haven’t asked you to marry me. You would be the last man I’d choose.”

She rammed the cake against his chest and walked away.

Damn it. She shouldn’t have heard that. He picked up a napkin from a table and wiped the cake from the front of his shirt. Pink-and-blue icing stained the white cotton.

Later, he saw her dancing with a muscled handsome man.

“Gabe,” he said, “who’s the guy on steroids dancing with Laura?”

Gabe glanced down at Nick’s shirt. “Battle scar?”

Nick shot him a repressive look. “Who’s the guy?”

“Her former fiancé.”

Vin. “He’s got a lot of nerve showing his face.”

Gabe shrugged. “He was part of the community for years. Things didn’t work out between them. It happens.”

Nick didn’t care. “That man hurt Laura.”

“And you didn’t?” Gabe shook his head, his voice ripe with disgust. “Your hypocrisy is showing. The whole room heard what you said about her.”

Gabe walked away and Nick stared after him. He’d only said he wouldn’t marry her. That guy, Vin, had promised to and had then backed out. Vin had hurt her more. Nick honored any commitment he made in business. He might be ruthless, but at least he followed through on promises.

He stalked onto the dance floor.

“I’m cutting in.”

Laura stared at him. Muscle boy asked, “Are you the guy who knocked up Laura?”

“Are you the guy who knocked her up and then ran out on her?” Nick countered.

“Hey, man, I would have stayed around and supported the baby.”

“Lucky for you she lost it and you can’t prove that.”

“Who the hell are you? You aren’t sticking around, either.”

“I’ll pay her child support. I won’t leave her hanging in the breeze.”

“I wouldn’t have, either.”

“And yet, you left her the second she lost the baby. Nice support.”

“Listen, you—”

They realized at the same moment that Laura was no longer there. They muttered expletives at each other then walked away.

Nick needed to find her and apologize. He should have never shouted to the entire room, in effect, to the whole town, that he wouldn’t marry her.

He found her outside sitting on a bench with her eyes closed and her face turned up. A cooling September breeze had kicked up and had sent the day’s stifling humidity packing.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She opened her eyes, but didn’t look at him. “I’m too busy to talk to you.”

“Doing what?”

“Digging more deeply than I’ve ever had to in my life for patience.” Her index finger popped out of her fist to point at him. “I’ve just had one man yell to the whole world that he will never marry me. I don’t want you to. I neither expected nor asked you to.”

Her middle finger popped up to join the first. “I’ve had Cro-Magnon man, who ran out on me when I lost my baby, chastise me for getting pregnant with a man I didn’t plan to marry and I, an intelligent woman, never once realized in five years what a chauvinist he is.”

A third finger joined the first two. “And last, but not least, I’ve had the two of you fight over me on the dance floor in front of God and the whole town and who knows who else.”

Her fingers curled back into her fist.

“I’m responsible for my life. I hold no one else accountable for my mistakes. I will take care of this baby and will never, ever make her feel like a mistake. I will take child support payments from you because it is the right thing to do, because this baby shouldn’t have to pay for our mistake. But do I need either you or Vin? No. I’m blessedly, happily independent. Take your posturing and fighting elsewhere. From now on, I won’t have anything to do with either of you. I’m stronger on my own.”

She left the garden, alone and independent and strong and magnificent. She was right. She didn’t need him or spineless Vin. He felt the loss of their fledgling friendship.

Warrior woman Laura would raise a strong, independent child. Unlike him, she would parent her baby beautifully. The child would get the attention and the guidance she deserved.

Laura would do a hell of a lot better raising this baby than he had ever done with Emily.

He thanked the higher power, whoever or whatever it was, and Marsha for doing for Emily what he had failed to do.

Rushing through the wedding guests, he found Emily sitting in the side garden drinking punch with Ruby and giggling.

“Hey,” he said.

She started, guiltily.

“Give me that.” He took the punch from her and tasted it. “Someone spiked this. Give me.” He flicked his fingers at Ruby and she handed over her glass. He poured both into the bushes. “Come on. Let’s get you something nonalcoholic to drink.”

He shook his head while they followed him. “God, girls, you’re only twelve.”

They giggled behind him. Lord save him from everything he knew he was about to go through in Emily’s adolescence.

He handed them both cans of soda, unopened, so he knew they hadn’t been tampered with.

On impulse, he took Emily’s face between his hands and leaned his lips on her forehead. God, he loved her. Oh dear God, he loved the daylights out of her.

He thanked God that he hadn’t screwed her up, that she had a father who had finally seen the light, and he prayed that he hadn’t come to his senses too late for his daughter.

He let her go and the girls walked away. He caught a glimpse of Laura. A breeze through the open window pressed her dress against her expanding belly.

That baby would have no father.

But it would have the monetary support it would need to grow up healthy and safe.

But it would have no father.

Déjà vu.

Just like Emily in her younger years.

Maybe Laura would find a man who loved her, who was more developed than either he or Cro-Magnon Vin, who would take on the baby as his own and give it the fathering it would need.

Acid burned in his stomach. Acid? No. Anger. He didn’t want another man raising his child. He didn’t want another man touching Laura.

You don’t want to raise the baby yourself, though, do you?

Nor do you want to commit to Laura in any way, so grow up and let her move on with her life. Let her find someone else.

He headed to the bar and ordered a Scotch. Neat.

* * *

OLIVIA STOOD AT the bar alone having a martini when she heard Nick Jordan yell that he would never marry Laura Cameron.

She watched Laura smash a slice of cake against his chest then walk away. A moment later, she managed to find her daughter in the washroom.

“What was that all about?” she asked. “Why would Nick Jordan be talking about marrying you?”

“You mean talking about not marrying me,” Laura replied, her tone bitter.

“What’s going on?”

“You haven’t heard? I don’t know how the word leaked out, but I guess it was only a matter of time. Nick is the baby’s father.”

Laura might as well have slapped Olivia. “What?” she said faintly. “Nick Jordan? But I thought you hated him.”

“I did.”

“Apparently, not anymore.”

“Not for a while. I might start again, though. He’s behaving like an ass tonight.”

“What is he going to do about the baby?”

“He has offered child support and I have accepted it.”

“How about paying medical bills?”

“I haven’t asked him to.”

“Ask him. Having a baby costs a small fortune.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Will he be around for the baby?”

“I don’t want him here. This is my baby and no one else’s.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Olivia touched Laura’s shoulder. “You’ve always wanted a whole family.”

Laura leaned her cheek against Olivia’s hand. “I know, but I don’t have a choice. This wasn’t what I had planned at all.”

“All of those things I said about not wanting to be a grandmother?”

Laura nodded.

“I take them back. I want this baby, too.” Olivia had been doing some hard thinking. She was what she was. Her age couldn’t be changed. It was what it was.

“Oh, Mom, thank you. I want this baby to know her grandmother.”

Olivia held Laura until she said, “Mom, I need to be alone for a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay, sweetie. I love you.” She kissed Laura’s forehead and then left the washroom.

Aiden leaned against the wall, waiting for her. She’d known he was at the wedding, but she’d been avoiding him.

“I want to dance with you,” he said.

“I’d like that.” The band was playing a slow song. Why not? Why the hell not? Here, in public, she could hold him, she could be held by him, without worrying about Aiden wanting to take it further. Without fighting her own almost-overwhelming temptation to give in to the man.

She could be held by him here where it was safe.

He danced as well as he did everything, with a natural athletic grace.

She reveled in the warmth of his embrace, in the divine strength of his arms around her.

“You dance well,” he said, his voice a rumble in his chest and an exhalation of breath near her ear.

“So do you,” she murmured with her eyes closed, savoring the moment.

“Have you changed your mind? About us?”

“No.”

His embrace tightened, briefly.

“I’m going to bring your metal piece over tomorrow.”

“I’ll have a check ready for you.”

“No. I told you. It’s a gift from me.”

“But—”

“Be quiet.” He softened the order with a “Please.”

“Okay. Come over at two.”

The following afternoon, Olivia opened her front door.

Aiden stood with the melting vaginal petal in his arms. Goodness, the man was strong.

“Where do you want it?”

“Upstairs.”

He followed her up the stairs and she led him to her bedroom.

“In here. Over there.”

He put it down where she directed then turned and studied her.

“Aiden, no,” she whispered. Don’t tempt me.

He left without another word.

Olivia stared at the petal and wanted to weep that fate would have them come onto this earth at the wrong time for each other.