Lucas couldn’t remember the last time he’d been early anywhere, but he found himself standing outside Darla’s chocolate and wine bar exactly ten minutes before he was supposed to meet Naomi.
All day, the minutes had crawled by. He and Lance had spent most of the afternoon evaluating each of the bulls and deciding which ones to sell off in order to free up enough cash to make the new purchase. Lucas had even called up a few of his contacts to generate some interest so they could unload them quickly. They’d gotten a lot accomplished, though he wasn’t quite sure how, given the way his thoughts kept drifting back to that kiss with Naomi.
Craving another taste of her lips, he pushed through the doors and scanned the restaurant. There were a few patrons at the bar—tourists it seemed—but otherwise it was pretty empty. He hadn’t been in here before this—hadn’t exactly had a reason to go to a swanky wine bar—but he had to admit it was a nice place. In contrast to the country clutter most business owners in Topaz Falls stockpiled, Darla seemed to prefer a modern and clean look. The floors were a bronzed concrete and the tall pub tables were made from old wine barrels. Contemporary prints hung on the walls, giving it a much higher-end feel than the Tumble Inn.
“Hey, Lucas,” Darla called from behind the bar. “You want to take that table over there by the window?”
He glanced to where she was pointing. The table for two sat in a quiet corner, somewhat secluded, though it had a great view of Main Street and the mountains beyond. The sun was still bright for seven o’clock, illuminating the reddish cliffs of Topaz Peak.
“That’d be great,” he said. As one of Naomi’s closest friends, Darla obviously knew why he was here. The way Naomi and her friends got together so often, he wasn’t surprised.
He’d no sooner made it to the table than Darla stood there with her notepad. “So how you doing?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.
Yep, she definitely knew about their date. And she seemed happy about it, which meant maybe he could mine her for some information. “I’m good,” he said, taking a quick glance at the menu. “How about you? Things going well around here?” He might be out of practice at buttering up a woman, but hopefully it was like riding a bike.
“Things are great.”
It was nice to have someone in town smile at him instead of look at him with a scowl.
“It was quiet this spring, but things are starting to pick up,” she said hopefully.
Spring was typically a slow season around Topaz Falls, muddy and sloppy with all of the snow melting. But temperatures still tended to be too cold for people to enjoy the summer activities that made the town famous.
“Good. That’s great.” He set down the menu. “I think we’ll take a bottle of your most expensive Shiraz and whatever chocolates you recommend to go with it.”
Her dark eyes went wide. “Really? Are you sure? That’s a three-hundred-dollar bottle of wine.”
What was three hundred dollars when he was finally getting Naomi all to himself? “I know.” He handed her the menu. “It’ll be worth it. Right?” he probed. Naomi was warming up to him. She’d stopped running. Hell, she’d even let him kiss her.
Glancing around, Darla pulled out the chair across from him and sat. “Naomi is worth every penny,” she agreed.
“Do you think she’ll like the wine?” he asked, easing a deeper question into his tone. Darla knew Naomi better than anyone. Surely they’d discussed this date. Surely she knew exactly how Naomi felt about him.
“Yes. I think she’ll like the wine.” She leaned in closer. “A word to the wise, though, Lucas. Keep an open mind, okay? Think before you say anything tonight.”
“Huh?” That wasn’t exactly what he’d expected her to say. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I have an open mind?”
Her lips pursed as though she was considering something. “Just…this moment will define a lot for you two. Okay? Remember that—”
Before he had time to ask what the hell she was talking about, the bells above the door jangled and Naomi walked in.
God, just the sight of her knocked the air out of him, leaving room for nothing but pure astonishment. She was radiant…wearing a long, flowy skirt with a tight shirt underneath a light open sweater. Her cheeks were pinker than usual, and he wondered if it had anything to do with the same passion that was now streaming through him.
She scanned the restaurant and saw him, though her expressionless face made it difficult to interpret how she felt.
As she approached the table, he stood. “Hey.” He would’ve liked to kiss her again, but that would have to wait. She seemed distracted. Was she nervous?
“So I’ll go get your order,” Darla muttered before quickly rushing away to leave the two of them alone.
Naomi sat on the very edge of the chair across from him. “Hi,” she said softly. “Thanks for meeting me.”
The formal ring to her words threw him off. On Saturday night, she’d let down her guard and he’d seen the raw emotions that hid behind her walls. But now it seemed that wall was back up. Maybe even stronger than before.
Good thing he wasn’t one to hide behind anything. “I’d meet you anytime,” he said, nice and direct. Didn’t want to risk her missing his meaning. She’d finally stopped walking away, turning away, avoiding him like she was afraid he’d burn her. And he wasn’t about to let her go back.
“Naomi…I’ve been waiting for six months for a chance to just talk to you. To just have you sitting across the table from me.” And he didn’t want to wait anymore. He didn’t want to waste time. “I’m—”
“Hi, you two!” Darla called, approaching the table with a serving tray. “Here’s your Armagh Shiraz 2008 Red wine from Australia paired with my signature dark chocolate raspberry, orange, and blackberry truffles.”
“The Armagh?” Naomi echoed. She gaped at Lucas. “That’s one of the most expensive bottles in the restaurant.”
He shrugged. “Yeah. So?” Seemed to him, she deserved to be spoiled. And he was up to the task.
“It’s one of the best you’ll ever taste,” Darla insisted, pouring them each a glass and leaving the open bottle between them. “Enjoy,” she murmured, raising her eyebrows at Naomi in some female code he couldn’t fathom.
“So you drink the wine, then eat the chocolate?” he asked, lifting his glass.
“Um. Yes.” Naomi’s hands fisted on the table as though she was trying to stop them from shaking.
He hated seeing that. Hated seeing her nervous and unsure. This was him. And her. They’d spent so much time together. She used to know him better than anyone. “Cheers, then.” He waited for her to lift her glass. As they clinked the glasses together, a small smile played with her full lips.
He could still taste those lips. When he finally got to kiss her again he’d savor them. He wouldn’t let her push him away.
They both took a long silent sip.
The wine was good—not that he was picky. He wasn’t much of a drinker.
He set down his glass. “I’m glad we could do this.”
“Me too.” Naomi smiled, but then her head turned and she stared out the window.
He definitely wasn’t an expert at reading women, but she didn’t seem so sure about that. “Listen…I know things have been awkward, but—”
“Oh my God,” she gasped. “Oh my God!” Her gaze was fixed on something outside.
“You okay?” He turned to the window, trying to figure out what had made her face so pale.
“This is not happening.” She jumped out of her chair and sprinted for the doors. Lucas scrambled after her, nearly getting nailed by the door as she bolted outside. “Wait,” he called, but she didn’t seem to hear.
Scanning the street, he saw what seemed to have consumed Naomi’s attention. A man. Standing on the opposite side of the road in front of the Blue Jewel Hotel. He squinted—the guy was familiar. Big, stocky build, short clipped hair. It took him longer than it should’ve to place him.
Mark.
What the fuck was he doing in Topaz Falls?
“Why are you here?” Naomi darted into the street without looking first. A Buick slammed on its brakes and laid on the horn, but she didn’t seem to notice.
Lucas sprinted across while the car was stopped. “Hey.” He slipped his arm around her waist, but she tore away from him and flew toward Mark.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she shouted, stopping the people who’d been walking by on the street.
“Easy, Naomi.” Mark’s arms went up. “You hung up on me, so I thought I’d come and see you. In person. That’s the best way to deal with this.”
“The best way?” she practically shrieked.
Lucas laid a hand on her shoulder. He’d never seen her so riled about anything. All around them people gathered, some looking the other way as though pretending they weren’t eavesdropping. He recognized Charlie from the General Store and good old town Mayor Hank Green, who was also an old rival of his father’s.
Yeah, he was pretty sure whatever was going on here, the whole town didn’t need to know about it. “Why don’t we go talk somewhere else?” Lucas suggested. This was likely going to consume the front page of tomorrow’s gossip column.
“We’re not talking!” Naomi yelled. “God damnit, Mark. I told you to leave us alone.”
“I’ve lost ten years of her life,” Mark said, and Lucas couldn’t believe how calm he sounded. Almost like he was trying to soothe her. “Please. I want to sit down with you. I’ve changed, Naomi. Everything’s changed and I want a place in my daughter’s life.”
The crowd on the fringes grew. People were whispering, ducking their heads together.
So this asshole was trying to get to Gracie after he’d left them both behind? Lucas fisted his hands. If Naomi gave him the word, he’d tackle him right through the window of that hotel.
“She might not be your daughter,” Naomi said.
That seemed to stop everything—the murmuring, the people who were trying, and failing, to walk by without staring…
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mark demanded, the first hint of irritation in his voice. “Who else’s would she be?”
Naomi whirled until she faced Lucas. Tears ran down her face. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
His stomach clenched. She couldn’t mean what he thought she meant. She couldn’t mean she’d wanted to talk to him about being Gracie’s father…
“We were together right before you got arrested,” she reminded him. As if he ever could’ve forgotten the last time he’d made love to her. He’d taken her up to the lake and put a mattress in the back of the pickup…
But no. Gracie couldn’t be his daughter. Surely Naomi would’ve told him before now. All these years later…
Mark stepped closer to her. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want me to see her.”
And now they really had an audience. People circled them, but Lucas couldn’t see any faces. He couldn’t see anything. Everything was too hazy to focus.
“No. I’m not,” Naomi said quietly. “I always wondered but I never found out for sure. And it never mattered because you left us. God, Mark. You walked out. You didn’t look back. You’ve never sent us a dime!”
Lucas knew he should do something. Stop this spectacle. If only the world would quit spinning around him.
Gracie might be his daughter?
His?
“You have no idea how much I regret all of it,” Mark said, approaching Naomi. “I’m so sorry. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make it up to you.” He laid a hand on her arm, and that tore Lucas out of the fog.
“Don’t touch her,” Lucas growled. “Get your fucking hands off of her.”
Murmurs started up in the crowd again, people on both sides of them debating whether they should call the sheriff.
Naomi turned to him and gripped his forearms tightly. “Go back to Darla’s,” she said, her tone fully in control.
“What?” She was sending him away? After she’d just dropped that on him? She was telling him to leave her alone with Mark?
“Now. Please.” She let go of him. “Go back to Darla’s. I’ll be there in a minute.”
A plea in her eyes begged him not to argue. So he bumped his way through the crowd, blinded by the fast pound of blood in his head. Somehow he found his way to their table and sat, his gaze still directed out the window where he watched the crowd disperse as Naomi pulled Mark aside and the two of them seemed to talk quietly.
“Um, I thought maybe you could use something stronger than the Shiraz,” Darla said. He had no idea when she’d come over. She set down a glass of whiskey in front of him. “You remember what I said. This is a defining moment for you and Naomi.”
He blinked at her. “Jesus. You knew what she was planning to tell me tonight.” Who the hell else knew that he might be a father before he had?
“I only just found out,” Darla snapped. “And you have no right to be pissed off. You got that? Naomi’s been dealt some shitty hands in her life, and she’s always done the best she can. She did right by her daughter.” The woman slashed a pointer finger in front of his face. “No matter what happens, you’d best remember that. Don’t screw this up, Lucas.”
Screw what up? What the hell was happening? He kneaded his forehead, trying to force his brain to think straight. Gracie might be his daughter. He might have a daughter with the only woman he’d ever loved.
Darla marched away as though wanting to make a point.
He turned back to the window in time to see Naomi hustling across the street, head down and arms pumping like she was on a mission. She walked briskly to the table and sat across from him, drawing in a long, measured breath as though steadying herself.
“I know you’re probably shocked,” she said, searching his face.
Shocked didn’t even touch it. He couldn’t find the words…
“Mark emailed me a few times. Then he called me this morning.” She paused as though wanting him to digest that. “That’s why I have to find out if he’s really Gracie’s father. He might not have a case, but we won’t know unless we get a DNA sample from you.”
“Hold on,” he choked out. That was all he could manage. Once, in prison, he’d made the mistake of trying to break up a fight between two other guys. That’s all it had taken for them to both turn on him, shoving him to the ground and kicking him repeatedly in the stomach. This hurt worse. “If Mark hadn’t gotten in touch with you…if he’d never come back into the picture, would you have told me? Would you have ever wanted to find out the truth?”
The rigid pull in her jaw answered his question. Answered a lot of questions. He may be the lesser of two evils in this case, but she was only telling him because she had to. Not because she wanted to.
“I tried to tell you a long time ago,” she said, her bottom lip quivering. The anger in her eyes bore into him with an accusation. “I wrote you a letter. I wrote you eight letters. And you didn’t bother to open even one of them.”
The weight of pain in her features crushed his shoulders. He closed his eyes to shut out the sight. He couldn’t stand to see her in pain. Pain he’d caused. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. He’d done more than hurt her. He’d scarred her. He’d thought he was doing what was best for her. He’d wanted that more than anything. But every decision he’d made back then was now crashing down on him—the decision to cover for Levi, the decision to force Naomi to move on…
God, he could’ve had a family with her. Ten years of beautiful moments, and he’d missed every single one of them. It was the worst punishment he could imagine. Guilt knifed through him as he stared at her across the table. “I can’t change the past.” He could regret it forever, but that wouldn’t change anything for them now. “Why didn’t you tell me right away? Last fall when I came back? Why did you avoid me instead of telling me the truth?” They could’ve already worked through this. They could’ve already found out the truth…
“You’re planning to leave again,” she said evenly, as though she’d detached herself already. She seemed to have regained control over her emotions. But he hadn’t. He didn’t know if he ever would.
It was too much. All of it. He thought about all the times in the last six months he’d run into her and Gracie at the ranch. Every time she’d seen him, Naomi had known that Gracie might be his daughter. She’d never said anything. God, she’d never said one damn word. Because she was ashamed of him. What mother would want an ex-con to be her daughter’s father? The truth hit him hard, forcing tears into his eyes. Even if the test revealed he was Gracie’s father, Naomi wouldn’t want him to be a part of their lives; she’d made that clear with six months of silence.
Suddenly he couldn’t sit there anymore. He couldn’t even look at her. “I have to go.” He swiped his hat off the table and stood.
“Wait.” She grabbed his arm. “You have no right to be angry.”
“I’m not. Not at all.” But a grief that he’d never experienced—even when his mom left—was swallowing him and he couldn’t fight it.
He dug out his wallet and threw money on the table. When he glanced at Naomi, he could tell she was about to cry. He could tell, but he couldn’t do anything to stop it.
“I’ll do whatever test you need me to do,” he told her roughly. “But right now, I have to go.”