Chapter Eleven

Sacha

The following Saturday arrived too quickly. I was still suffering from morning sickness, and though my baby bump had not yet begun to show, some of my clothes were getting snug. I probably felt fatter than I looked, but it still made getting dressed a chore.

This morning was particularly irksome. I was nervous about spending the day with Gib and didn't know why. I wasn't afraid of him. I knew he could cause trouble for me, but my gut feeling said he wouldn't. So, my current anxiety over seeing him was a mystery.

After trying on five different outfits, I settled on a roomy, pink and green checked flannel over a long-sleeved white tee shirt and some stretchy jeans. My flat-heeled boots would be comfortable for walking and the layers would work in case it got warm. In Georgia, one could experience all kinds of weather in a single day.

I had rehearsed what I wanted to say to him, though now I was aware he had a knack for derailing me. I had to stay on my guard. The important thing to remember was to not let his good looks and masculine charm cause me to give in too easily. This meeting was not about dating him. It was about managing a future together as co-parents and nothing more.

I waited by the entrance to the park, looking for his truck. He hadn't confirmed and I had a fleeting hope he might have decided not to come.

"There you are."

His voice came from behind and I turned to find him at my elbow, all six feet something of him.

"Oh. You startled me."

"Sorry, darlin'."

Was he laying on the drawl or was it natural?

"Let's not get too familiar now, mister." I was only half-joking.

He leaned forward and placed a hand on my belly. "Darlin', that ship has sailed."

I removed his hand and stepped a few feet away. Then I turned and wagged a finger in his face. "Do not touch a pregnant woman's belly without permission."

He splayed his hands open, following me. "Well, that ship is long gone too. If you recall, I've already touched way-"

Now my finger was across his lips, silencing him. "Nope. Not going there. It happened, that's why we're here, but we don't need to rehash it. Let it go."

"Sorry."

He didn't know what to make of that, judging by his stunned expression. I knew he'd try to use memories of our night together to soften me up. Even though we both admitted to faulty memories of the night in question, I recalled enough to make parts of me tingle when they shouldn't. But I'd never let him know that.

As I turned to walk toward the festival, I heard him mutter under his breath.

"We're off to a roaring start."

I stifled a grin and started browsing the first booth. It was mostly hand-made jewelry, and an elderly woman stood beaming behind the cloth-covered table.

"Can I interest you in a bracelet, or a necklace maybe?" Then she winked at Gib, who trailed behind. "Maybe something pretty for your girl?"

He simply shrugged and looked at me.

"They are lovely," I assured the woman. "But we're just browsing."

We wandered past several booths, and I began to relax a bit. Now that he had backed off from his southern-charm routine, I thought we might accomplish something.

"So, Gib… Tell me something about you."

I glanced behind me to see him scowling. "What do you want to know? My life story?"

"Not entirely. Let's start with where you were born, where you grew up. I was born in New Jersey, an only child. My mom moved us here to Atlanta for work when I was a teen. Your turn."

"Born and raised in Atlanta, one sister, younger. Parents still alive. Nothing much else to tell."

There was something in his tone that told me he was holding back. "Do you not get along with them?"

The sharp look he gave me all but confirmed my assumption. He pretended to browse the table in front of him, looking at handmade knives in a glass case, not meeting my eyes as he answered.

"Let's say we've had our ups and downs. It's a long story."

We walked on, and I spotted a row of food trucks at the edge of the park. My stomach rumbled, having been emptied three times that morning.

"Are you hungry? There's some tables over there, we can sit and eat."

"Sure."

Minutes later, we had plates of food and bottles of water laid out on a picnic table. I had been craving olives for some reason, so the Mediterranean food truck had been my choice. Gib had opted for Asian food, some kind of dumplings with a dipping sauce. When we finished most of the food, I tried to get the conversation going again.

"So, you told me you ended up in Tilly by accident. Do you plan to stay there forever?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I like it there."

"Do you have enough work? I mean, isn't it a seasonal town?"

"For tourists it is. Some of the businesses do shut down in winter, and my work slows down then, too. But not for long. There's always someone needing something fixed."

"So...You make enough income to live comfortably, then?"

His eyes flashed and I knew I'd crossed a line, but he probably wasn't going to give me a financial statement. I had to find out if he was responsible when it came to money.

"I'm not a deadbeat, if that's what you're asking."

"I'm not implying anything, so don't get all huffy. It sounds like you don't have a steady income, that's all."

He leaned forward, and his eyes bore into mine. "You said you wanted to raise the child without me, and now you're concerned about my income?"

"No. I am concerned about you being a responsible adult. Working as a handyman, living in an old cabin on a remote mountain, avoiding my questions about your past… It all doesn't paint a picture of the ideal father for my child."

His voice was ice cold. "Lady, you don't know shit about me, if that's all you see."

He grabbed up his empty plate and left, throwing it in the nearby trash can with a little too much force. I got up to follow, throwing my half-eaten lunch in the can.

"Then enlighten me. Prove to me that you will be a responsible co-parent. Can you support yourself? Will you be flexible about schedules? What the hell do you want out of this?"

He turned on his heel to face me, and I stopped just before slamming into him. We were inches apart, so close I could smell the clean, citrus scent of his cologne.

"I want a second chance. That's all."

The pain in his expression took me by surprise. I wasn't sure what he meant, but before I could ask, he took my hands in his.

"Sacha, I can't tell you everything about my past, because it's still too painful. I lost my wife in an accident, and she was pregnant at the time. All I know is I don't want to miss out this time around. Not one second."

His eyes glistened with tears. It made my own eyes sting with moisture.

"Why didn't you tell me, then? I had no idea."

"I don't want your pity. I only want you and the baby to be safe. Whatever that takes."

For a moment, a breath caught in my throat. I squeezed his hand, and he drew me into a hug. We stood in the middle of the park like that for a minute, saying nothing. It seemed we had finally found our neutral ground.

~*~