JAMES SAT IN his Jeep outside the Slippery Rock B and B—hands at ten and two despite the SUV’s parked position—with the air-conditioning blasting. Her SUV wasn’t in the lot, and he wasn’t above tracking her down in town, but he’d rather have this conversation in private. If he hadn’t stormed off last night, they could have talked then, but he’d been too floored by her revelation.
He rubbed his hand over his neck.
Angry, a little.
Scared, maybe. About the baby, about what the baby meant for his future in the Slippery Rock Sheriff’s Department. About what the baby meant for his future with Mara. Or what his future might look like without her. There had to be some dark reason she’d kept the baby from him for two years.
For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what the reason was. He had a good job, came from a good family, had the same core group of friends he’d had since high school. For Pete’s sake, he was still a member of the Slippery Rock Methodist Church along with his parents and grandparents. He didn’t attend regularly, but he donated at all the usual holidays. He wasn’t a mean-spirited drunk, and he wasn’t a crazy, let’s-jump-off-a-cliff drunk, either. He actually wasn’t a drunk at all, despite the weekly dart games at the Slope. One or two beers was his limit, and not only because he was a cop. Because he didn’t like the feeling that came with having a few too many beers or shots.
For her to have kept knowledge of the baby from him for all this time didn’t make sense. It didn’t fit into his plans on how he’d start a family, for sure. More than that, her secrecy didn’t fit into the Mara he knew. No, their relationship hadn’t been serious, but she’d never lied to him before. Not intentionally and not by omission. The Mara he’d known for most of his life was fearless. She did what she wanted, when she wanted and to hell with the consequences. In that respect, keeping their son from him made sense, but under that brave, rebel exterior, Mara had a kind and soft heart. She couldn’t bear to watch Dumbo because the circus kept the elephant calf from Mrs. Jumbo.
James clenched his jaw. None of this made sense.
A dark SUV turned the corner and pulled into the B and B’s lot. James exited his Jeep and strode across the pavement, waves of heat rising up and making him sweat.
“We need to talk,” he said without preamble as Mara got out of the driver’s seat. The woman from last night wasn’t there, and the baby seat in the back seat was empty. A quick stab of disappointment hit his belly.
Mara didn’t blink. “Why don’t you come inside?” she said as if she were inviting him into her home instead of a rented suite.
He followed her up the walk, reaching around her to open the door.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice starchy.
“You’re welcome,” he returned, his voice just as firm as hers.
Mara unlocked the door to room seven. It was empty. No baby. No nanny. Just a green square playpen thing with mesh sides and dinosaurs on the fabric. A light blanket lay on the bottom, more dinosaurs on it, and a stuffed T-Rex sat in one corner.
Well, at least he knew the baby thing was for real now. Not that he’d doubted it. Mara wasn’t one to make up stories.
She folded her arms over her chest and watched him a long moment. “Well?” she asked. “You wanted to talk. Here we are. Talk.”
James wasn’t sure where to start. “I think you’re the one with some explaining to do.”
“After the way you stomped off last night, you have some explaining to do.”
He squinted. “Because I needed time to process you having my baby two years ago, I’m the one who has the explaining to do?”
“Technically, I had him fourteen months ago. We haven’t spoken in two years.”
“This is really the way you want to handle it? Me the pretend bad guy so you can be the Virgin Mary with the surprise baby?”
An expression he couldn’t read flashed over her face. Mara bent to pick up the baby blanket and began folding it into smaller and smaller squares. “You aren’t the bad guy. There is no bad guy in this scenario.” James harrumphed. “Okay, maybe I was a little bit of a bad girl. I was scared.”
“Of what?”
She put the blanket down and held her hands out at her sides. “Everything? I didn’t know how to be a mother. We only had one real conversation. Every dinner we started ended up in doggie bags and eaten cold because we would run back to whatever hotel we were staying in. I don’t consider cold meals actual dates. Then I was pregnant. It was too much, and I freaked out, and I cut myself off from everything.”
Mara picked the blanket up again and put it into a bag. She tossed the T-Rex in, too, and then took a suitcase from beneath the bed. She pulled open drawers and began to pack. James grabbed a handful of lacy garments and put them back in the drawer.
“No, you don’t get to tell me I have a kid and then pack up to leave. I don’t care how scared you are.” His gaze landed on a picture frame on the bedside table. Big brown eyes stared at him from the frame. The same brown hair, the same nose. Same smile. The jaw was different, but there were enough similarities between himself and the baby in the picture that James forgot to breathe for a long moment. He picked up the picture, lightly tracing the lines of the chubby face with his fingers.
“I’m not leaving,” she said. “I’m moving my things to the orchard.”
“But you told me it would be more convenient to stay in town because of the grocery store job.”
“I did.” Mara put the things he’d tossed into the drawers in the suitcase and shrugged. “Staying here was never about convenience. I wasn’t sure how Gran or Collin or Amanda would take the baby news. Having the suite here meant I had a good reason not to stay there if they didn’t want me and the baby around.”
“So, they didn’t know?” She shook her head. That, at least, was a relief. She may have lied by omission, but his best friend hadn’t lied either outright or by omission.
“Well, that’s a relief.” She shot him a questioning glance. “Collin doesn’t share his secrets much better than you do, but I was afraid... I’m glad he wasn’t keeping the secret, too, is all I meant.”
“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. “For not telling you then. For making you think one of your best friends was being dishonest with you. I know how much honesty and integrity is to you.” She pulled a few pairs of jeans and some shirts from the bureau, adding them to the suitcase. “The baby looks like you, you know. Same hair and eyes, same smile. I don’t expect you to forgive me—”
“But you want me to?”
She grinned sheepishly. “It would make things easier.”
“I need to be a little mad at you.” Except he was already feeling himself caving in on the anger thing. He could push his feelings about her keeping the kid from him into the background. They could make this work. Somehow. The baby was a real person, not a figment of some bad dream. James’s baby. He couldn’t turn away from that—it wasn’t possible.
“I figured.”
“Smart woman.”
“I did skip the tenth grade.”
“I remember. You went from freshman to junior. Col was not impressed to have you as a classmate and sister.” This lighthearted banter was better than the serious conversation they needed to have. Easier and so much more familiar to him—at least where Mara was concerned. In every other aspect of his life, James always did the responsible, mature thing. With Mara, however, responsible and mature always turned into simple and easy.
“He was just mad that I made better grades than he did.” Finished packing, she zipped the suitcase closed. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” she said again. “And I didn’t come here to dump this news on you and, I don’t know, try to make our lives look like a really bad made-for-TV romantic comedy. Two hapless singles thrown into parenthood or something. I don’t want anything from you. I don’t need child support or insurance or even a hand changing middle-of-the-night diapers—”
“You have a nanny for that.”
“Yesterday was her last day, actually. She left this morning. Also, he sleeps through the night no matter what horrifying things come out of his body. That doesn’t matter. What I meant—what I mean is I’m the mom and you’re the dad. You can be as involved or you can be as uninvolved as you want. It’s your choice.”
His choice. As if being a father was a “check yes or no” decision. The anger he kept pushing away came roaring to the surface. Being a father wasn’t an in-or-out choice, not for him. This baby, no matter what challenges he brought, was his family, and he wouldn’t turn his back on family.
Carefully he put the picture on the bedside table. “It isn’t a choice. He’s my responsiblity.”
Mara reached for him, taking his hands in hers, and the sizzle that always accompanied her touch raced along his nerve endings. Stupid chemistry, anyway. James pulled away from her.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” she said. “This isn’t a responsibility you have to take on. No one knows you’re the father, and no one has to know. You can continue on with your perfect life in your perfect town where you can be the perfect sheriff just like your father was—”
“And live a perfect lie by not taking part in my son’s life? I don’t think so.”
“I’m not asking you to lie. You had a right to know, and now you know, but you don’t have a responsibility here. He’ll be fine. I can handle it. He’ll have a large extended family—an uncle who is going to adore him, a great-grandmother who dotes on him. Amanda’s a teenager, so her response will be largely dependent on whatever else is going on in her life, but if she isn’t thrilled, I can deal with that, too.”
“And what about college? Orthodontic bills? His first car?”
“I have a good job with great benefits and a flexible schedule.”
“You have this whole thing planned out, don’t you?” he said, keeping his voice soft. He shoved his hands in his pockets. She didn’t need him.
From the first time they met up together, he had wondered where he stood in her life. Now he knew. Mara didn’t need him. Why did that hurt?
Mara worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’m just saying that we were never serious. Our relationship wasn’t intended to be long-term for either of us. We were just...”
“Filling a physical desire?” he asked.
She nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly the right phrase. I fulfilled a desire for you, and you did the same for me. It wasn’t serious. We weren’t making plans. My getting pregnant was an accident, but it doesn’t have to ruin your future or mine.”
“Because I can just walk away.”
“Right.”
“Because we were never serious.”
“Exactly.”
He wanted to ram his fist through the wall, and if she used another yes synonym, he was going to do just that. No, the relationship between them wasn’t serious, at least in her mind. But he’d bought her a ring. He almost proposed that first day in Nashville, but decided to figure out some extravagant proposal scenario like on social media. He’d wanted to surprise her, to give her an amazing memory. She might have been playing around, but he for damn sure had feelings for her. She was his friend, his buddy. His confidant. She made him feel things—not just physical things—that no one else did.
None of that mattered, not now. Because she might insist they weren’t serious about one another two years ago, but the situation had changed. They had a baby and, like it or not, he was now in her life and she was in his. She was still talking, but James couldn’t focus on the words as he watched her. Everything blurred out of focus until he saw only her. Those big blue eyes. The curves that hadn’t been there two years ago. The voice that still sent shivers along his spine. She was the mother of his child. She was exactly the wrong person to be in his life right now.
He didn’t need her kind of complication, not at all. He was the Interim Sheriff of Wall County, and soon he would have to start actual campaigning for the permanent position. People would expect him to make the right decisions, to do the right things. Walking away from his family wasn’t a right decision, not by a long shot.
“It is serious, Mara. You don’t just get to wave some magic wand to make my part in this disappear.”
“I can handle the discipline, the education. He won’t want for any—”
James cupped his hands around her neck, pulling her to him. Mara squeaked as he laid his lips on hers, silencing her before she could say, for the fifteenth time, that she could be everything for the little boy in the picture. That James could walk away and never feel guilty about it. As if that would ever happen.
Her mouth was soft against his, and she opened to him, her tongue tangling with his. She tasted like banana, and her hair was silky against the back of his hand. James wrapped the length around his fist, holding her in place so that his mouth could plunder hers. Mara wrapped her arms around his neck in response, rising on tiptoe and slanting her head.
This they could do and it would be simple and easy. Just like it had been right up until Nashville. Kissing Mara was the easiest thing in the world for James. It was coming home while also having an adventure—familiar but exciting at the same time.
She made a low sound in her throat, pressing her body against his. Her breasts were fuller than he remembered. He reached to cup her rear with his hand. Her hips were rounder, sexier. She wove her fingers through the short hair at the back of his head, sending another shiver of awareness through his body. Then she pushed her hips against his.
God, he knew what she would feel like beneath him. He knew what to do to make that low sound come from her throat. How to kiss her so that she was weak with wanting. He knew that she liked to be ravished, but that she liked to do the ravishing from time to time, too.
And she wasn’t serious about him. Didn’t want him in her life. Was giving him an out to continue on with the life that had been planned for him since the day he was born.
He wanted that familiar, planned-out life.
James broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers for a long moment.
He also wanted the unfamiliar, unplanned life that came with accepting responsibility for the baby they made in Nashville.
He wanted her to admit that while they hadn’t exactly been making plans during their weekends-only relationship, it still had been a relationship. And it had been serious enough that they’d both gone out of their way to pretend that it was just about the sex.
“Is that serious enough for you?” he asked. He stepped away from her, putting his hand on the doorknob at his back. “Because if you keep telling people to walk out of your life, that’s exactly what they’re going to do.” He waited for her to say something, anything, for a long moment. Mara only stared at him. James opened the door and walked into the hall.
* * *
FOR A LONG MOMENT, Mara stood staring at the door. Fingers touching her lips. Rooted to the spot. And then the anger kicked in.
This was twice he’d walked out on her. Twice in less than twenty-four hours. Yes, she’d been incredibly selfish and allowed her fears about, well, everything, to rule her. But she was trying to be better. Trying not to pack up her things and run off into the night as she’d done after high school, and again two years ago.
Things had been different with James that weekend. She had shared a little of her past with him. She didn’t tell him about her career plans, but the things from her past, those were so much more personal than her work.
He’d talked about becoming sheriff—not just for his father, but for himself.
They’d made it through not one but three different meals without a single doggie bag or rushed sex.
The conversations, the changes in their routine, scared her, the similarities between what James said he wanted and the things she wanted for herself—a home, a family, a career. Living out of a suitcase had begun feeling old. She missed her family. Missed having a space of her own.
Mara held no illusions that Slippery Rock would be where she finally put down her adult roots, but she’d considered it. Had lain awake beside him that Saturday night two years ago thinking about it. Wondering if Slippery Rock could be her place, too. Wondering if the attraction and chemistry between them could grow into something more. The possibilities sent her running away from that hotel because, while the thought of living her life with James was exciting, it was also terrifying. What would happen if things didn’t work out? There would be no more stolen weekends. Trips to the orchard would be tense and uncomfortable because he would always be in the back of her mind.
She’d been unwilling to take the risk, especially when he’d said zero about her being part of the life he talked about. So she ran, and wound up causing this entire mess in the process.
Well, she had to deal with it now, whether she liked it or not. And uncomfortable as it would be, they needed to talk without him storming off.
Mara followed him into the hallway and outside, catching up as he started the Jeep. She put her hands on the door.
“What the hell was that?” Not the question she’d intended to ask, but a good one, she decided. He’d never kissed her like that, with anger and passion and that little kick of what had to be excitement. The passion and excitement had been there, but the anger gave the kiss an extra jolt. She wanted to feel that jolt again.
She shouldn’t want to, but she did. Mara would deal with that later.
“A mistake,” he said.
And just like that, the jumpy, skittish feeling in her stomach melted into something that left her feeling cold, so very cold. She rubbed her hands against her arms despite the heat of the summer afternoon.
“Mistake? Right, well, sure. We don’t kiss anymore. Haven’t for two years. I meant the slamming out of the door,” she said, because he didn’t need to know that the kiss had thrown her. He could credit the question to her being angry that he’d walked out on her again. “We can’t keep walking away from each other when we’re angry.” Not that anger had driven her away from him before. That was straight-up fear. Maybe they could get to that later, when he wasn’t so annoyed that he wore his cop face and tapped his fingers against his steering wheel in staccato beats.
“I’m not angry. I’m pissed off.”
“Like there’s a difference.”
“It’s subtle, but it’s there. Anger has reason. Pissed off is pure emotion.” He looked at her for the first time. “Why does it matter?”
“Because when we continually hold on to the anger, it makes it easy not to look at the deeper issues, the uncomfortable feelings.”
James continued to watch her for a long moment, his brown eyes unreadable. “You sound like a therapist.”
Yeah, well, a little more than a year in therapy could do that to a person. Mara swallowed.
“I started seeing a therapist just before Zeke was born. I didn’t want to repeat the cycle my parents started when I was little. Therapy seemed like a good option.”
“Instead of telling me I had a kid, you went into therapy?” His eyes widened. Then he shook his head. When he finally spoke again, mockery was heavy in his tone. “Wouldn’t it have been simpler to be honest with me?”
“I didn’t start therapy because of you. I did it because of me, for me. For Zeke.” He had to understand. Therapy wasn’t a way of avoiding James; it was a way for Mara to confront her past, to be the kind of mother that Zeke deserved.
“And that isn’t supposed to piss me off? That I didn’t even enter into your little plan? God, Mara, we have a kid together. A kid you didn’t tell me about for nearly two years. I get to feel whatever I want to feel about that, and you don’t get to turn those feelings into your excuse for keeping him a secret.” His knuckles were white against the gray of the steering wheel. “That rates a little more than a five-minute announcement followed by you writing me out of your lives. When are you going to grow up?”
“I grew up two years ago. Quickly,” she said. But he was right. Her therapist would agree. James could feel angry and confused and anything else about what she did. “His name is Zeke—Zeke Tyler Calhoun. I did put your name on the birth certificate. He’s happy and active. He doesn’t talk much, but I can tell sometimes that he has a lot going on in his mind. I have a feeling when he does start talking, he’ll never stop.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, James, I am. I got scared in Nashville, and by the time I figured out I was pregnant, I convinced myself I’d let too much time pass. I knew there were things from my past that were going to be bad, for me and for him, and that’s when I started therapy. And one more time, I convinced myself not to tell you until I felt I was healthy enough to deal with whatever you could dish out.”
He pursed his lips and looked ready to rebut that statement.
“But the truth is that I was afraid. Afraid to be a mom. Afraid to be without my family. Afraid to be without the best friend I’ve ever had, whom I also happened to be hooking up with periodically. You can be mad at me for all of that. If I learned one thing in therapy, it’s that we’re allowed to feel what we feel.”
“I’m not—” he began, but then stopped. “It isn’t just—” James blew out a breath. “I’m angry, yes. And confused. And...this changes everything.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Zeke doesn’t have to change anything for you. You can still run for sheriff. I think you’d make a great one. You don’t have to worry about supporting us, not on a county sheriff’s salary, because I have a great job with good benefits—”
James shut off the engine and got out of the Jeep, slamming the door shut behind him. Mara took a few steps back. “If you tell me one more time that I have no responsibilities where this baby is concerned, I just might throttle you instead of the tackling dummy I tried to put through my basement wall this morning.” He advanced on her, pointing his finger at her chest. “I’m not going to walk away and pretend I don’t know I have a kid in this world. So we’re going to figure out custody and child support and insurance and scheduling and all the other things that go along with being a two-parent family. We’re going to do those things because they are the responsible things to do. But we aren’t going to figure this out in a five-minute conversation that begins with you telling me I got you pregnant and ends with you telling me I don’t have to take responsibility for it.”
“I only want to give you options.”
James shook his head. “Of course that’s what you want. Because me walking away would make things easy for you. Just like you walking away in Nashville was the easy thing. Just like you not telling me you were pregnant was the easy thing. Just like you letting everyone believe you were responsible for the prank in the bus garage after graduation was the easy thing.”
“I did that to protect you.” It was the one selfless thing she had done in her life, and she’d done it to protect her best friend.
“No, you used what I did as your excuse to walk away from here.”
“You could have come clean at any time.”
Guilt flashed across his face. Then that calm, cool, detached facade was back, and Mara decided she must have imagined the guilty look. “And that is on me.” He checked his watch. “My shift starts in ten minutes. We can talk more after.”
Mara nodded—it was all she could do. She couldn’t keep bludgeoning him with the I-don’t-need-you routine, not when she knew now that it was a lie. Mara hadn’t expected him to fall on his knee to propose. That would have been preposterous. But she had expected to see more flashes of the James who had been her best friend throughout high school, who had been her lover—God, she hated that word. It sounded so...old. Clinical.
James got in the Jeep, started it up and drove away, leaving her standing in the B and B parking lot.
She’d run from him because she’d been falling in love with him, and the two years without him hadn’t dimmed the feelings. If anything, that kiss had brought them roaring right back to life.
Now she would really have to deal with her feelings for James Calhoun because he wanted to be in Zeke’s life, and that made a little piece of her heart happy. It also left a big, empty place where the rest of her heart should have been. While James wanted to be in Zeke’s life, he didn’t want to be in hers.