Desperado: Deep in the Heart, Book 2 (29 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Stormy had been on a maximum buying spree. She sat in a taxi with Jonathan, surrounded by packages and overflowing bags, thinking that all the baby things and maternity clothes she’d bought ought to make her feel happy. That was the purpose, wasn’t it? To feel happy about the baby, and feel happy with her life?

Searing the plastic edges of her credit card with purchases hadn’t made her happy. Thinking about Cody took the edge off of any excitement she might be feeling. It was so purposeless to hurt this bad. Even in her wildest dreams, she couldn’t make herself imagine any angle where she and Cody could intersect their lifestyles to form a future. For the sake of the baby, they could most likely work something out, an arrangement that would be cold and formal. Not the loving warmth she knew Cody was capable of, and that she wanted from him.

I want him to want me.

“Jonathan,” she said suddenly, “I have to tell you something.”

“What, luv?”

He put his hand on her shoulder, but it was the purely platonic gesture it had always been. Jonathan didn’t mind giving her his name for the sake of her child—and for the sake of the friendship he’d had for years with her parents—but that protection wasn’t the answer, any more than all her purchases.

“I’m not going to marry you,” she said, her eyelashes lifting so that she could meet his gaze. “It’s sweet of you to be willing to help me out, but it’s probably the worst thing I could do to both of us.”

He removed his hand. “Are you sure? If you’re worried about me getting into your personal affairs, you needn’t, you know. We don’t even have to live on the same premises.”

“I know,” she said hurriedly. “You’ve been very understanding about this whole matter.”
You people in Hollywood are big on understandings.
Cody’s voice haunted her. She didn’t know what she was going to do, hadn’t planned to end the pretense of a married life with Jonathan, but nothing felt right and it all had to change. The prospect of raising her child alone was scary, but she could do it. She’d basically raised herself, and she’d turned out fine. For many years, Annie Rayez had raised Mary by herself after her husband’s death. Stormy wasn’t going to marry Jonathan just so she wouldn’t have to be a parent by herself. It was time to quit relying on support systems, be they pharmaceutical or emotional.

“I’m taking back all this stuff I bought,” she said resolutely.

“Why?” Jonathan gave her a sidelong glance.

“I shouldn’t have bought it. I can’t afford all of it, anyway.” It wasn’t only that, but she could get by with a couple of the maternity dresses and about half of the baby layette she’d bought. The rest had been to fill a gap in her emotions that couldn’t be filled with material things.

“Well, you can’t take it back now,” Jonathan told her as the taxi pulled up in front of her apartment building. “Crocodile Dundee has come to the city.”

“What are you talking about?” But even as she said it, she saw Cody lounging in the doorway. The doorman was eyeing him warily, and Stormy smiled, seeing exactly what the doorman saw. Cody was a big man, and though his posture was relaxed as he leaned against the wall, his gaze was alert, watching everything. He had on jeans that hugged his body and snakeskin boots that looked like he wore them only to church. A black hat with some kind of tooth tucked into the rawhide braid around the crown rode low on his head. His ebony braid, peppered with a few gray strands, emphasized a square-jawed, determined face. His arms were crossed over his chest, and Stormy watched several women try to catch his eye as they went past. He barely smiled at them. Stormy watched the women drinking him up as if he were some kind of movie star with novelty sex appeal, and her heart sped up like mad.

“Lady, you getting out or not?” the cabdriver demanded.

“I’m getting out,” she replied, not aware that she’d already opened the door.

Jonathan got out, too, and handed her as many of the packages as she could carry. The rest he set on the sidewalk. “I’d offer to carry those up, but I think you’re going to have all the help you need.”

“Thanks, Jonathan.”

He leaned down to give her a kiss, with Cody’s gaze simmering on them. “I’ll call to check on you later.”

“Okay,” she said breathlessly, only barely aware the taxi pulled away from the curb. “Hi, Cody,” she said, walking toward him. Her mouth felt frozen, her face muscles tight. What could she say to this man that wouldn’t sound utterly foolish?

“Hi.”

He came forward to stand near her but didn’t touch her. His gaze swept down to her belly and Stormy felt a flush run all over her that had nothing to do with the Los Angeles heat or her pregnancy.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” she said.

“I’m surprised to be here.”

“Oh?” Stormy looked around. “Did you bring Mary for the auditions?” she asked, trying her best to sound nonchalant.

“No.” His gaze was focused on her. “I thought about bringing her. Sometimes, it was the best excuse I could think of to get out here. But then I realized you and I need to have a little time to talk. If you don’t mind, and if your fiancé won’t mind.”

“No, he won’t,” she replied swiftly, completely forgetting to tell him that she was no longer engaged. “Come on up. I’m dying to hear what the subject of this conversation is if it couldn’t be handled over the phone.”

He leaned down to pick up the packages, shaking his head at her when she tried to take some from him. “No. You convince that doorman I’m not here to do anyone bodily harm, and I’ll manage the rest.”

Quickly, she told the doorman that Cody was her guest. The doorman frowned at Cody, and Cody glowered back, and Stormy tried not to smile at all the macho posturing.

“Come on. It’s a good thing I returned when I did. The two of you might have engaged in fisticuffs,” she said wryly, digging out her key.

Cody didn’t say anything. Stormy hurried to press the elevator button, and they stepped inside. The elevator whooshed to the sixth floor a whole lot faster than she would have liked. The thought of having Cody in her little apartment made her hands tremble as she put the key in the lock. She felt like stuck film in a film projector, with images jumping crazily all over the screen.

“Home, sweet home,” she said, pushing the door open so he could pass her.

“I got it.” He propped the door with his boot and waited for her to move past him. She did, but her belly and all the packages he was holding made it a tight squeeze. “Let me take some of those,” she said to save face. “I’ll put them away.”

She worried that he might ask what was in the bags, but he didn’t, saving her from bringing up the need for baby necessaries. “Can I get you anything?” she asked, unable to look at him.

“Didn’t come all the way west to share a soda with you, Stormy,” he said, coming to stand in front of her. He caught her chin with his hand and forced her to meet his gaze. “Are we having a baby?”

“Yes,” she murmured, swallowing in a suddenly dry throat. There was no point in denying it.

“I thought so.” He let out a tense breath and released her chin, moving away to sit heavily in the nearest chair.

She sat opposite, knotting her fingers. He seemed overwhelmed. She felt the same way. This man and she had created a human being. The knowledge that their lives were locked together in this way for all time hit her. “I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.”

He rested his hand against his cheek, scratching at his temple.

“Well, I thought about it,” she said hurriedly, “but there never seemed to be a right time.”

He eyed her dispassionately.

“I didn’t know how to tell you.” She pleaded with her eyes for him to understand. “I was…afraid of how you’d feel. About me. About us…having a baby.”

He nodded once, as if he completely related to the words she was babbling. Stunned, Stormy realized he was at a loss. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m trying to decide what to do.”

“About what?” She hoped he wasn’t angry, though she knew he had a right to be. But do? There wasn’t anything for him to do. He was the father, not a participant at this point. Maybe never a participant.

“I’m either going to wring your neck or holler out loud that I’m going to be a father. I’m afraid that doorman’s got security listening outside the door, so maybe I won’t yell. Wringing your neck would be a quieter operation.”

“I won’t let you wring my neck, Cody.” Stormy waved him off with a dismissive hand. “I understand you being upset but what’s done is done. There’s nothing to do except wait until the baby comes.”

“Anger suits my mood right now; waiting doesn’t.” He stared at her. “Why shouldn’t I give you the yelling you deserve?”

“It’s a waste of time,” she said, faking an airiness she didn’t feel. “Just because we’ve developed this unexpected hitch is no reason to get all uptight.”

“You’re not marrying that elderly man you drag around like a security blanket,” he stated.

“What?” she repeated, outraged.

“He’s not raising my child. Shoot, I doubt he’s even got enough breath left in him to pitch baseballs to my son.”

“Baseballs?” Disbelief swept Stormy. Of all the reactions she’d expected from Cody, this wasn’t one she had envisioned. “Jonathan would be a good father.” She ought to know. He’d certainly kept a paternal eye on her through the many stages of her creative parents’ up and down career.

“I understand that you and he have a relationship, but he’s not going to be a father to my son.”

Hot fury whipped from out of nowhere. She jumped to her feet, pointing at her stomach for emphasis. “This might be a girl, not that you’ll allow your chauvinistic brain to consider your having anything in you but requisite male chromosomes. Heavens! Since it’s your child, I might give birth to a donkey!” Setting her hands on her hips, she glared at him. “You can quit criticizing Jonathan, too. He’s been unfailingly supportive.”

“I’m not interested in that.” Cody stood, too, meeting her furious gaze with some righteous heat of his own. “Let’s stick to the problem at hand. If you’re going to marry an old man and have an ‘understanding’ marriage—” he repeated the term she knew he despised, “—and if you intend to continue living like a flake, then I think in the interest of all parties, the child is better off living with me in Texas where he can grow up like a man.”

Stormy sucked in a breath. “How dare you!”

“We need to come to some terms, and if I’m not as supportive and understanding as you’d like, I’m sorry. I’m just the way I am. I say things the way I see them. One time, that was a quality I admired about you.” He stared at her, regret in his eyes. “You mighta sounded like a wacko, but at least you were an honest wacko. Now, you’re living such a big lie I wonder if I ever knew you.”

“What in the hell do you mean ‘big lie’?” Her neck stiff with anger, Stormy refused to release his dark, angry gaze.

“You don’t love that man. You’re going to have an ‘arrangement’.”

“What’s it to you?” Stormy snapped.

“It’s a lot. Your whole way of life is something I don’t want my son growing up around.”

“Well, I beg your pardon! You didn’t seem to mind—”

Knocking at the door halted the abuse she was about to heap on him. Promising with her eyes that she wasn’t finished with him yet, Stormy opened the door. Her heart sank. “Hello, Mother, Father. Please come in.”

“We decided to drop by and get you to go to dinner with us. We want you to be sure you’re eating right for the—” Her mother caught sight of Cody and her voice trailed off awkwardly. She walked past Stormy into the room, burnt-orange hair crimped into a frizzy ball and three-inch yellow peace signs swinging from her ears. Her father wore his best clothes, Stormy had to admit, even if the jeans were more than ragged and the sandals worn down to the thinness of paper.

“Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet Cody Aguillar,” she said, pointing to the black-eyed man staring at her folks. “Cody, these are my parents, Sun and Moon Nixon.”

Slowly, he swept the hat from his head, nodding. He put his hand out for her father to shake. “Nice to meet you.” They echoed his greeting, but he wasn’t paying attention. His eyes had shot back to hers and it was all too clear what he was thinking.
What a bunch of fruitcakes. These nuts aren’t going to get the chance to turn my son into a fruit.

“You must be the father of Stormy’s baby,” Sun said without preamble.

“Mother, why don’t you sit down?” Stormy asked hurriedly. “Father, can I get you something to drink?”

They ignored her, frozen into an uneasy moment with Cody.

“Stormy confirmed my suspicions about that a few moments ago,” he replied.

Sun nodded, walking over to sit down. “We tried to get her to tell you at once.”

“We did. But she wouldn’t listen to us.”

Moon went to sit beside his wife as if they were the same teenagers who’d fallen in love during their hippie days. Cody propped himself into a round, flowered chintz chair that didn’t quite accept his body.

“We tried to explain to her how important it was for children to have strong parental influences in their lives, but Stormy has always gone the opposite direction of anything we tell her.”

“What?” Stormy stared at her parents, shocked. “When did you two turn into model June and Ward Cleaver types?”