I can’t believe this is mine.” Naomi ran up the porch steps fully aware that she looked like a little girl, and yet she couldn’t stop herself. She felt like a little girl, like she was walking into a dollhouse. And it all belonged to her…
“Easy, there.” Colton trailed behind her as though he was embarrassed to be seen with her. “You do have a reputation to uphold in this town,” he cautioned. “Might want to start acting like a real professional.”
“Inn owners aren’t professional.” She unlocked the door with her very own key and pushed it open, that old-fashioned creak making the best kind of music. “Inn owners are eccentric and charming.” She puckered her lips in a goofy smile and led the way inside.
“God, let’s hope that’s not how you greet patrons at the door,” Colton said with a belittling roll of his eyes.
“Watch it. This is my house and I can kick your ass out.” She stacked her hands on her hips and looked around. Above their heads, a broken antique chandelier hung askew. A few spokes had fallen out of the wooden banister that wound along the staircase in the entryway. Dust clung to every surface, the particles that hadn’t settled floating like specks of iridescent glitter. But each one of those dust motes belonged to her. “It’s so beautiful,” she whispered, picturing exactly how it would look with everything cleaned and polished and restored. Over the years it had been abandoned. No one else had taken care of it. And she could relate to that. “I don’t care what anyone thinks about me.” She turned to Colton, sure the tears in her eyes were drops of pure happiness. “I’m going to make this place into a palace. And that’s why people will keep coming back.”
“You know I love you, kid.” He plunged a hand into his man purse and pulled out a bottle of champagne and two plastic goblets. “And I’m proud of you. Congrats on your new venture.”
“Aw, Colton!” She pinched his cheek. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“No shit.” He put his grumpy face back on and rubbed at the red mark she’d left on his cheek. Leaving her behind, he stepped into the small parlor. “There’s no place to sit and do a toast,” he complained.
“I have a chair in my car.” The chair Lucas had hauled up into the air all strong and manly, loading it before she had a chance to argue. Even the thought heated her blood. Which, of course, warmed the rest of her right up.
“Oh, and I suppose you expect me to drag that chair in here for you.” Colton walked past her and brushed dust off the staircase before sitting down. “Unlike your possible baby-daddy, I don’t enjoy manual labor.”
“It’s fine,” she said, sitting next to him. “I’ll bring it in later. Right now I want to celebrate.”
“Hear, hear.” He popped the champagne’s cork and poured them each a glass. “So speaking of baby-daddy, have you heard from Lucas yet?”
“Not yet.” When she’d explained the process for the paternity test and told him they’d have to mail off the kit, he’d said that wouldn’t be necessary. He wanted to drive down to Denver and go straight to the lab to cut down on the wait time for both of them. The gesture still made her heart ache. He hadn’t changed at all: take charge, be chivalrous, honorable. She inhaled slowly to battle the intense thrum of desire. “He should be back in a few days. He said he had some errands to run in Denver, anyway.”
Colton set his half-empty glass on the stair next to him. “By then you’ll probably know the results. If he hand-delivers the sample, it should only take a couple of days.”
A couple of days. Naomi planted a hand against the floor to steady herself. Either way, in a couple of days life as she and Gracie knew it would change forever.
“Did you talk about the what-ifs?” Colton asked in the gentle tone he normally reserved for little old ladies.
“No.” She couldn’t bring herself to discuss that with Lucas last night. It was bad enough she’d admitted she hoped it was him. He didn’t say too much after that, and they’d moved on to discussing the logistics of the paternity test.
“So you didn’t tell him you still have feelings for him?”
“I couldn’t.” She sipped the champagne to soothe the burn that tortured her throat. “I can’t afford to make any emotional decisions. Not right now.” She had to keep her head straight and prepare for everything that was coming. She had to focus on Gracie—on how to prepare her.
Colton eased his arm around her, pulling her close. Sometimes there was no safer place to be than in the embrace of a friend. “So I heard back from my guy in Denver.”
The private detective. She gasped. “Did he find anything we could use against Mark?”
“Nothing.” Her friend’s face sobered. “He says Mark is squeaky clean. No police record. Owns a successful landscaping business, has a five-thousand-square-foot house in Cherry Hills.” He ticked off each positive point on his fingers. “He’s been married to a first-grade teacher for seven years, and they have a five-year-old son. Sounds like a hell of a guy. He even volunteers at his church, the bastard.”
“Mark has a son?” She lurched to her feet, trying to absorb the shock. “While I was raising his daughter alone, he was creating the perfect family for himself and buying a five-thousand-square-foot house in Cherry Hills?” Fury surged, hot and fierce, forcing her to pace. “It makes no sense,” she nearly yelled at Colton. “Why now? Why does he want to see Gracie now?” It’d been ten years. He could’ve contacted them a long time ago…
“Sounds like he had a cancer scare last year.” Colton reached over and drained her glass of champagne, too. Which was fine by her. She couldn’t stomach it right now.
“Nothing too serious. Just prostate cancer, but they caught it early. My guess is he feels guilty. Gave his life a hard look and realized the only thing missing was his daughter.”
Naomi sat back down and bent over, resting her forehead on her knees. What if Gracie fell in love with Mark’s wife? With her half-brother? “Maybe I won’t have to worry about it,” she said, raising her head and grasping hope. “Maybe it’s Lucas.” It had to be…
“What if it’s not, honey?” Colton asked, giving her fears a voice.
“Then I’ll do whatever Gracie wants me to do,” she said, like she was reading it straight from a cue card. What she really wanted to say was that she’d fight Mark forever. That she’d never let him have a part of her daughter, but that was so selfish. “If Gracie wants to know her dad, I can’t stand in the way.” No matter how much it pierced her. No matter how much it scared her. “I need to know him more. I need to learn more about his life. But once I’m convinced he’s a safe and responsible adult, I’ll leave it up to her.”
“You sure are a hell of a lot wiser than you look, mama,” he teased.
“Sometimes I hate being wise.” She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Life was so hard after Mark left. But, baby, him coming back into our lives would be ten times harder.”
* * *
Well, shit. Lucas didn’t know exactly what he’d expected to find when he pulled up in front of Mark’s house in Denver, but he sure as hell hadn’t predicted it would be a mansion in an upscale neighborhood. Quite the change from how they’d both grown up. Mark had lived with his parents and three siblings in a three-bedroom cabin just outside town. His dad had been a truck driver, which meant he was gone most of the time, and while his mom worked part-time at the gas station, she’d had to keep track of her kids, too, so there wasn’t a lot of extra money.
Now it seemed the man was doing pretty well for himself. Lucas parked along the curb in front of an expansive yard that had been landscaped to perfection. A rock retaining wall ran along the perimeter, containing flowerbeds that looked like Martha Stewart herself had planted them. Not that he’d ever seen her work, but he’d heard plenty about her. She was real popular in prison.
He let the truck idle a minute, trying to decide if it was anger or envy that set his stomach to a boil. While he’d been in prison, Mark had obviously been very successful. And yet how could he have purchased this estate while never giving Naomi and Gracie a dime? That was one of only a hundred questions he had for his former friend. It was why he’d come. To get some answers, figure out where they stood.
There was a time he’d considered Mark his best friend, which meant he’d hung out with Naomi, too. When Lance had told Lucas that Naomi was pregnant and she and Mark were getting married, Lucas had practically doubled over. It had felt like the ultimate betrayal, and yet at the same time, he’d hoped Mark would take care of her, that he’d make her happy. But the next time he’d talked to his brother, he’d learned that Mark had left. That was when Lucas had asked Lance to invite her to move to the ranch and give her a job. If he couldn’t be there, at least he could help provide for her.
That was all so long ago, but he had to wonder if Naomi had any lingering feelings for Mark. It would appear the man had a lot to offer now, especially in comparison to him.
Lucas had built his own home on the McGowen Ranch. A modest two-bedroom cabin, really. It’d taken him six months to complete, all the way from falling and hewing the logs to finishing off the inside with drywall and fixtures. It wasn’t a family home in the suburbs where there were probably any number of choices in schools and sports and friends. And that wasn’t the only difference between him Mark: His old friend had never served time. He didn’t live with the stigma. Gracie wouldn’t have to explain to her friends that her dad hadn’t been around the first years of her life because he’d been in prison.
Fuck it. He didn’t care about all that. Maybe he should, but he couldn’t make himself. He turned off the truck and climbed out, then marched his ass right up to Mark’s fancy rustic walnut front door. The thing seemed to tower above him, casting him in its shadow, but he’d stand tall anyway. Because he might not have a ten-foot front door that looked like something out of a magazine, but he cared about Naomi. And it didn’t matter if Gracie was his daughter or not. He’d fight for them both.
He rang the doorbell and the thing sang some cheerful tune. It almost made him laugh. What a picture he must be, standing up on this concrete stoop in his worn jeans, faded T-shirt, and scuffed shit kickers. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to scrape the mud off ’em.
He listened for footsteps or any sign someone had heard the bell but that front door was like a fortress. Before he lost the nerve, he tried the bell again.
This time it opened quickly.
Mark stood there, keeping a grip on the door, likely in case he had to shut it fast. “Hey, Lucas,” he said with the same enthusiasm he might use to greet a door-to-door solicitor. “What can I do for you?”
“Just thought we should talk.” And yeah, he also wanted to scope things out, see what he was up against. Maybe that had been a mistake.
“You want to come in?” Mark’s rigid posture sent a certain message. Lucas had to hand it to the man; he was being relatively diplomatic considering the circumstances.
“Nah, I don’t need to come in. Don’t have the time.” He had plenty of time seeing as how he’d gotten a hotel room and planned to drive back tomorrow morning, but he didn’t need to spend more time here than necessary. “I only wanted to come and tell you that I still love her.” Might as well shoot straight. He didn’t want to waste either of their time.
Mark seemed to relax. His shoulders softened and a trace of humor pulled at his mouth. “Hell, I know that. I may never have been as smart as you, Cortez, but I knew you loved her. Love her,” he corrected. “And she always loved you.” He shook his head. “I knew it before I married her.”
“That why you left?” he asked with more contempt than he’d intended. But he didn’t get it—how a man could walk away and not take care of the people who relied on him. How could he stay silent for ten years and then all of a sudden want a place in Gracie’s life?
“I left because I was a stupid kid.” Mark stepped out and closed the door behind him. Probably didn’t want to waste the air conditioning. “I screwed up. At the time, it was panic. I knew we didn’t belong together. Couldn’t handle all the responsibility. But there obviously would’ve been a better way to figure it out. I should’ve gotten in touch with her long before now, but I figured she didn’t want to hear from me.”
Lucas nodded, the self-righteous judgment being squeezed through the sieve of his own reality. He could say those same words in a different context. “Hindsight is always 20/20.”
“Sure is,” Mark agreed. He faced Lucas directly. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. If Gracie’s my daughter, I want to do right by her. But I’m not stupid enough to think Naomi would want anything to do with me. I’ve been married for seven years now. We have a son. Not gonna screw it up this time. Trust me.”
Once again, anger reared its head. Mark hadn’t lost out on anything. Even though he’d walked out on his family. Lucas was about to say something, but the words dissolved on his tongue. He had no room to talk. He’d abandoned her, too. “I guess I am stupid enough to ask for a second chance.” But he’d make a complete ass out of himself if it meant winning her back.
Instead of agreeing with him, Mark shook his head. “You two always had it. Whatever ‘it’ is. Even in high school.” He eyed him. “None of us ever believed you started that fire. After you were sent away, Naomi tried to find out what really happened. We both did. She even questioned the police chief.”
“Really?” He had no idea. No one had ever told him…
“Yeah. She was convinced you were covering for someone.” He shrugged. “Made sense to me, but people in town had their conviction and wanted to move on.”
Lucas said nothing, afraid one word would give him away. The truth wouldn’t do him a lot of good now.
“Anyway, I guess we all made mistakes back then,” Mark said. “Best thing we can do now is try to make up for them.”
“I intend to.” Going to prison had cost him everything. Too much. But maybe it wasn’t too late for him to reclaim all he’d lost. His place with his dad and brothers at the ranch. A life with the woman he would always love.