A Natural Father (20 page)

Her stupid body hadn’t quite caught up with the events of the previous day, and her heart gave a ridiculous kick as she stared at Dom’s broad shoulders and beautiful backside. For one night, he’d been hers, and it had been wonderful.

Yeah, and you paid a bloody high price for the privilege,
her cynical self chastised.

The thought helped her square her shoulders as Dom turned around, almost as though he had sensed her approach.

For a second he simply stared at her. She made a point of holding his gaze. He’d hurt her. She wasn’t about to pretend it was any different and she wasn’t ashamed of caring for him. He was the one who should be ashamed of the way he’d treated her—like the latest toy, to be played with until the next amusing thing came along.

After a long silence, Dom gestured over his shoulder toward the young man.

“This is my sister’s boy, Michael. He’s going to help you out with the deliveries until the baby’s due,” he said. “If things work out, he’s interested in the job driving the second van.”

Her gaze flicked to Dom’s nephew. Michael gave her a little half smile and a wave, then shifted his feet awkwardly. Poor kid. She figured he had no idea what kind of a mess his uncle had dropped him in the middle of.

“You don’t think this was something we should have discussed first?” she said, returning her attention to Dom.

“Of course. But I figured you probably didn’t want to talk to me last night and that you wouldn’t want me doing deliveries with you today.”

“Bingo.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“You can’t do deliveries on your own, Lucy.”

“What I do or don’t do is none of your business.”

Dom’s jaw tensed again.

“Actually, it is. If you hurt yourself on the job, Market Fresh is liable,” he said coolly.

She took a breath to argue some more, but she could feel pressure building behind her eyes. She refused to cry in front of him. Owning her feelings was one thing, but blubbering in front of him was a whole other ball game.

“Fine. Whatever. Michael, pleased to meet you,” she said, thrusting her hand at Dom’s nephew.

“Oh, um, you, too,” he said, shaking hands awkwardly.

“Let’s go.”

She pushed the trolley past Dom and didn’t stop walking until she was as far from him as she could get and still be standing in front of Bianco Brothers’. Michael watched her anxiously as she breathed deeply and sniffed a few times.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” she said.

“Do you want a handkerchief?” he asked.

He offered her a neatly pressed white square. The sight of it made her laugh.

“I bet your ma made you put that in your pocket this morning,” she said as she took it.

“Won’t let me leave the house without one,” he grumbled.

She blew her nose, then looked him in the eye.

“Don’t tell your uncle I was crying,” she said.

He shook his head.

“No way.”

Dom kept his distance for the rest of her time at the market, and she didn’t look his way once. Still, she felt a little nauseous by the time Michael pushed the trolley back to the van.

This was going to be hard—much harder than she’d thought. Seeing Dom every day. Driving around with his look-alike cousin in the van beside her.

But that was what enduring was all about, right? Doing what you had to do, no matter what.

“Okay, Michael,” she said. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

It was raining outside, pelting down. Briefly he wondered if he should call her, make sure everything was okay. He quelled the impulse. Probably the weather was slowing traffic.

He pushed his coffee away. He was as nervous as a kid on a first date. Except this was no date. This was almost the exact opposite of a date, in fact—a meeting to dissolve his partnership with Lucy.

He’d cut her free from their relationship, and now it was time to cut her free from their business contract.

She was unhappy. He could see it in her eyes, the dullness of her skin, the downward slope of her shoulders. Being tied to him was difficult. Painful. Once their partnership was dissolved, she wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. Someone else could serve her when she came to the stand. Hell, he’d even make sure he was absent during the times she usually came to collect her supplies. That way, they’d never have to see each other at all. That should make things easier for her.

He rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks. He hadn’t counted, but he was pretty sure that if he cared to do the math, he’d work out that he hadn’t slept a full eight hours since the Sunday he’d realized that he was going to have to give Lucy up.

So his motives weren’t entirely selfless in regard to dissolving the partnership. It was killing him having to deal with her all the time, too. He’d tried to make it as easy as possible—hiring Michael to help with deliveries so he could ensure she was looking after herself without physically being there himself, staying away from her when she came to the stand, keeping any business discussions brief and to the point and conducting as many of them as possible via e-mail.

It didn’t make any difference. He still wanted her. He still dreamed of her. He still turned automatically toward the sound of her voice. His chest still ached when she laughed. Not that she’d been laughing much lately.

He’d hurt her. But he hadn’t had a choice. He’d have only made her even more unhappy in the long run. This was the lesser evil, the kinder cut.

It was the same thing he’d been telling himself over and over, and he was sick of hearing it. He shoved his cup even farther away and coffee lapped at the rim, almost spilling over.

He knew the feeling. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the guilt, or the pain of being a part of Lucy’s world but not a part of it, but he’d felt damned close to spilling over a number of times lately. He’d been short with his father. He’d even snapped at his mother. He was pretty sure most of the staff members at Bianco Brothers’ were going out of their way to avoid him.

He sat back in his chair and stared blindly out the window.

How long did it take to stop loving someone? To stop dreaming of the smell of their skin, the feel of their hands on your body?

How long did it take to kill a dream?

Longer than eight weeks. But maybe dissolving the partnership would help. He bloody hoped so.

The bell over the coffee-shop door rang and he looked up. Lucy met his eyes as she shook out her umbrella. She looked tired, drained. He’d arranged to meet at the end of her delivery run so they’d have more time to discuss things, but now he wondered if he should have made it a morning meeting.

“You look tired,” he said as she joined him at the table.

She didn’t respond. She dumped her umbrella under the table and lowered herself carefully into the chair. She’d grown in the past few weeks, her belly burgeoning into a classic pregnancy silhouette.

“What did you want to see me about?” she asked.

Her gaze was clear, her eyes distant.

Right. Straight into business.

“I want to dissolve the partnership,” he said.

“I see.”

He shoved a sheaf of papers across the table toward her.

“I had my lawyer draw this up. This gives you full title to the company. Once we sign, Market Fresh will be all yours again.”

She scanned the front page, then quickly flipped through the next few pages.

“It doesn’t say how much you want. We need to get the company valued,” she said.

“I don’t want you to buy me out. I’m signing my half over to you,” he said.

She stared at him.

“You’re
giving
it to me?”

“That’s right.”

She let her breath out in a rush, then she looked down at the papers in her hand for a long moment. She stood, her chair scraping across the café floor.

“Where are you going?” he asked as she stooped awkwardly to collect her umbrella.

“Home. Where I won’t be insulted.”

He stood.

“Wait a minute.” He grabbed her arm.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Lucy. Don’t be stupid,” he said. “Stay and talk it through.”

She shook him off. Her eyes were wide with anger. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I am not accepting thirty thousand dollars of investment in my business because we slept with each other. I don’t believe I’ve sunk to the level of whoring just yet.”

“For Pete’s sake—”

“What else is it for then, Dom? It’s guilt money, pure and simple. And I am not your freaking charity case,” she said. Her voice quavered then broke on the final few words, but she kept staring him down.

“That’s not the way I think of you,” he said.

“What am I, then? A mistake you need to pay off?”

“No.”

She threw her hands in the air.

“What, then? You tell me why you want to give me thirty thousand dollars for nothing.”

“I want you to be happy. I want to make sure you’re all right.”

“Neither of those things are your responsibility,” she said.

She turned to go. He grabbed her arm again.

“Lucy—”

She swung around on him. “No! You gave up the right to care about me when you cut me loose like some girl you’d picked up in a bar.”

“I did you a favor, Lucy,” he said.

She laughed, the sound hard and bitter. “Is that how you sell it to yourself? Wow, what a guy. You should go get yourself measured for a suit of armor. Make sure it’s nice and shiny.”

She headed for the door. This time he let her go.

She stopped on the threshold to fumble with the umbrella. He was about to head to the counter to pay his bill when she dropped the umbrella and clutched at her belly.

He was at her side in two strides.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m bleeding again,” she said. “I felt a rush, like last time. Oh God.”

She lifted the hem of the stretchy black tunic she wore over a pair of pale gray leggings. They both stared at the damp spreading down her thighs.

“That’s not blood,” he said.

Her face was pale as she met his eyes.

“My water must have broken.”

There was bone-deep panic in her eyes. She was only thirty-four weeks.

His phone was in his hand before he’d even formulated the thought.

“Ambulance,” he told the emergency services operator. Immediately he was patched through to the ambulance service. It took only a moment to give their location.

“Two minutes. We’re lucky we’re so close to the hospital,” he said as he ended the call.

“It’s too early,” she said as he led her back inside the café. “The baby’s too small still.”

“Lots of babies are born early and survive,” he said.

She grimaced and her hand shot out to grasp his arm. Her fingers convulsed around his wrist.

“Oh boy. I think I’m in labor.”

She leaned forward, groaning.

“Is she all right?” a voice asked behind them.

It was the shop owner, looking concerned. A crowd of customers was forming.

“The baby’s coming,” he said. “The ambulance is on its way.”

“Oh!”

“It hurts!” Lucy groaned.

The wail of sirens sounded in the distance. One of the customers went out into the street to flag it down.

“We’ll be at the hospital in five minutes,” he said.

“Rosie! I need Rosie.”

“I’ll call her.”

The ambulance shuddered to a stop out the front of the café, lights circling, its siren piercing until it was silenced abruptly.

Rosie’s phone went through to voice mail when he dialed. He left a quick message.

“I’ll try Andrew,” he said before Lucy could ask.

She nodded her thanks as the ambulance crew entered. While they settled her into the gurney, he called Andrew’s cell. Again he got voice mail. He left another message.

“They had a court hearing this afternoon. A divorce,” Lucy said as the paramedics began to wheel her out the door.

He grabbed her bag and coat and umbrella.

“I’ll meet you at the hospital,” he said.

She nodded, but he could see how afraid she was. He hesitated only a second before following her to the ambulance and climbing in after her.

“I’m coming with you,” he said.

She bit her lip, then nodded.

“Thank you.”

He reached for her hand as the ambulance started up.

“You’re going to be okay,” he said.

She was about to answer when her eyes rounded and she gasped.

“Oh God!” she groaned, curling forward.

“When was your last contraction?” the paramedic asked.

Lucy was too busy panting to respond.

“Just before you arrived,” Dom said.

The paramedic’s eyebrows rose. “That’s pretty close.”

“I guess. Is that bad?” Dom asked quietly.

“It’s fast. Her water just broke? There’s been no other signs of labor? No backache or any other cramping?” the paramedic asked.

Lucy shook her head and collapsed down onto the gurney.

“Are the pains supposed to be this bad?” she asked, her voice faint.

“When the labor is fast like this, they hit hard.”

The ambulance slowed as it turned a long curving corner. Dom guessed they’d arrived at the emergency bay.

Within seconds the doors were open and Lucy was being raced to a cubicle. They transferred her to a bed, and a nurse helped her remove her leggings and underwear. Dom moved to the head of the bed and laid his hand on Lucy’s shoulder. He felt utterly useless, but he refused to leave her side.

An older woman with faded blond hair entered the room.

“Hello, Lucy, I’m Julie. I’ll be your midwife this afternoon,” she said with a warm smile. “How are we feeling?”

Lucy groaned as another pain hit. Dom watched as her belly hardened and her body stiffened. Julie frowned.

“Okay, Lucy, I’m just going to take a quick look and see how far along you are.”

Very aware that he had no right to be a part of this experience, Dom glanced away as the midwife checked Lucy’s cervix. The midwife was very matter of fact when she straightened.

“Lucy, you’re almost fully dilated. This baby wants out, fast. I’m afraid we’re not going to be able to give you any pain relief.”

Lucy shook her head. “Is my baby going to be all right? It’s so early…”

“We have the neonatal team on standby, but thirty-four weeks is very viable,” Julie said. “I’ve called your obstetrician, Dr. Mason, and he’s coming in. But I should warn you that you may have delivered before he gets here.”

“I don’t care. As long as my baby is okay.”

She growled low in her throat as another contraction hit. This time she slapped a hand onto Dom’s arm and clung on so tightly his skin turned white.

“Hang in there, Lucy. This is going to be fast and furious. The important thing is that I want you to wait until I tell you to push, okay? Pretty soon you’re going to want to do that more than anything, but I need you to wait until I give you the go ahead. Okay?” Julie asked.

Lucy nodded. Dom reached out to push the damp hair off her forehead.

“You’re tough. You can do this,” he encouraged her.

“It’s not like I have a choice. I never have a choice,” she panted.

Her mouth opened on a silent cry and her fingers tightened around his. He watched her body quiver for what felt like forever, then she collapsed back onto the bed.

“I want my sister,” she said, staring forlornly at the ceiling.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he said.

She turned her head to look at him.

“You don’t have to stay. I know you feel guilty, but you don’t have to stay.”

“If you want me to go, I’ll go,” he said.

Lucy’s face screwed up with pain and she clutched at his hand as another contraction hit. Over the next fifteen minutes, her contractions came faster and lasted longer. Sweat rolled down her face. Dom offered water, his hand and words of encouragement. He’d never felt more helpless in his life.