There's Only Been You (11 page)

Mike had always been able to read her facial expressions. He reached over and, using only his forefinger, tilted her face up. His heart wrenched when he realized tears were threatening to spill. “God, Sara, please don't cry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything."

She jerked her head and his hand fell away. “You don't understand. The reason I'm upset..."

"Tell me. You can tell me anything, sweetheart."

"This is all your fault, you know. You're the one who left me. I had no idea where you were, or if you were ever coming back.” She stopped and took a deep, shuddering breath. “This is all your fault."

Mike leaned forward and tried to take her into his arms. She shrunk away as if his touch burned. “Dammit, Sara, I was a screwed up kid who had no reason to believe in anything back then. You have to understand, the reason it was so easy for me to believe you'd turned to Jimmy had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I never thought I deserved you, and when I saw that tape ... Hell, Jimmy came from a wealthy family and I came from the devil himself. Why
wouldn't
you have wanted him over me?"

Sara did look at him then—her eyes wide with shock. “You thought I was sleeping with Jimmy because of his family's money? That's how much you thought of me?"

Mike ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “That's not what I meant, I—"

"You didn't even give me a chance to defend myself. You just threw some accusations around and attacked Jimmy. Later that night, when your father told me you'd packed your bags and left, I was devastated. When a week went by without hearing from you, I had no choice but to accept the truth. Or at least what Rachel told me was the truth."

His jaw clenched. She'd had so much faith in him she'd actually braved facing his old man. And there wasn't a damn thing he could say to make up for the fact he'd had zero faith in her.

He reached over to grasp her hand, and for the first time that day she didn't fight him. “Sara, if you've ever believed anything about me, please believe this—I love you. I always have, I swear it on my mother's soul."

It was obvious he'd managed to shock her again. Those luminous brown eyes widened and her cheeks grew flushed.

"I don't know what to believe anymore. But there's something I have to tell you, and it's about the hardest thing I've ever had to do."

"I told you, you can tell me anything."

She stared down at their clasped hands for a few seconds before looking up to meet his gaze. “Two weeks after you left me ... I found out I was pregnant."

Mike's gut clenched. His breath caught. It took all his concentration just to draw air into his lungs. “What?"

"I was pregnant,” she repeated, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Then ... you mean ... I'm a father?” Mike's head was spinning. He'd never been more grateful to be seated in his life.

She tore her hand from his. “A father? No, you're a sperm donor. There's a difference."

Mike was absolutely thunderstruck. He heard what she'd said, but the words barely registered. He gazed out the window, his mind trying to wrap itself around the incredible news she'd just given him. “I can't believe this. I'm a father.” He turned back to her, his heart pounding furiously. “Do I have a son or daughter?"

"A son."

"My God, I have a son.” Jesus, his hands were shaking.

"No,
I
have a son! I don't recall seeing you in the delivery room where I labored for thirty of the longest hours of my life. And I don't recall you changing a diaper, or rushing him to the doctor when he spiked a fever after his six-month immunizations. I'm the one who taught him how to walk, talk, go potty on the toilet. You didn't do a goddamn thing except leave us when we needed you most, so don't you dare call yourself his father!” With that, Sara threw the door open and jumped out of the truck.

Stunned, Mike bound from the truck in hot pursuit. She'd slipped on the wet grass and he caught up to her in no time. He grabbed her by the upper arm and had to raise his voice to be heard above the whipping wind and driving rain. “Dammit, Sara, you can't just drop a bombshell like that and run off!"

She spun around to face him. “You're hurting me."

"I'm sorry.” He let go of her arm. “Look, we have to talk about this. I mean, what did you think I'd say? ‘Oh, I have a son, how nice’ and walk away?"

She glared up at him, mascara running down her cheeks, wet hair plastered against her head. “Don't you mean ‘walk away again'? I was hoping."

Ignoring that last crack, he led her back toward the truck. “I want to meet him. Right now. Come on, let's go."

She dug in her heels. “Y-You can't!"

It was Mike's turn to glare. He picked her up in his arms and carried her back to the truck. When they were both seated inside, he handed her a stack of fast food napkins and said, “Don't think for one minute I'm going to let you, or anybody else, keep me away from my own son. I've already missed the first seven years of his life. I don't plan on missing out on another second."

"It's not that. If I'd wanted to keep you from him, I wouldn't have told you about him in the first place.” She dabbed at her eyes.

"Then why are you hiding him from me? Because he wasn't at the dinner table tonight.” Mike finger-combed his wet hair and wiped his face with the hem of his T-shirt, for all the good it did. He started the truck back up and cranked the heat full blast.

"He doesn't know anything about this. My God, I just found out this morning what Rachel and Jimmy did to us."

"Well, where the hell does he think I've been all this time? I mean, he must have asked about me at some point."

Sara's face crumbled.

Mike muttered a curse. He stared out the windshield for a moment while he regained his composure. Oddly enough, the ferocity of the storm soothed him. “Sweetheart, I know it must've been hell on you raising our son all these years without my help. But that's over now. I'm here for you, and I'm here for him. I realize it'll take some time for us to get to know each other again, and for ... my God, I can't believe I forgot to ask you his name. What
is
our son's name?"

Sara went pale; a chill racked her body. Her nipples strained against the filmy material of her halter top, and he cursed silently as his body reacted. He reached behind his seat for the flannel shirt he kept there.

"Here, snuggle under this.” He draped it over her, then adjusted the heat vents so they blew in her direction. The temperature had been in the mid-seventies when they'd left her house, but had dropped a good fifteen degrees when the storm blew in.

"Thanks,” she mumbled holding the shirt up to her neck.

"Sara, what's his name?"

She seemed reluctant to meet his gaze. “Ethan."

Mike froze. “Ethan? As in ‘the love of your life’ Ethan?"

Her expression grew fierce. “He
is
the love of my life."

"Dammit, Sara, you knew exactly what I thought when you told me—” Suddenly, the truth dawned on him. His heart hammered against his rib cage. “Christ, you wouldn't have told me,” he said in a near whisper. “You would've let me leave town without knowing I have a son.” When she didn't respond, he growled, “Am I right?"

"Yes!” she cried, her face crumbling again. “I couldn't take the chance that ... that you'd..."

When she looked away, his eyes widened in horror. “My God, you were afraid I'd ...
hurt
my own son?” His stomach wrenched at the thought. She'd actually believed him capable of such a thing? Knowing what an abusive monster his own father had been?

She dabbed at her eyes with the wet lump of napkins. “I didn't want to. But after the way you attacked Jimmy ... I'd never seen you hit anyone before."

"He deserved it."

"Maybe so, but I didn't know that until today. And Rachel said you'd ... my God, Mike, her face was bruised and she had a black eye. I didn't want to believe her, but the fact that I never saw or heard from you again only supported her story."

What the hell could he say to that? She was right. If he'd gone home and slept on it, instead of taking off like a damn coward, none of this would've happened. They would've talked, compared notes and confronted those two lowlifes. He'd have been holding Sara's hand when she found out she was pregnant, and they'd have gotten married.

And he wouldn't have missed out on the first seven years of his son's life.

Mike leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. Bitterness ate at his soul until all he could think about was revenge. If it was the last thing he ever did, Rachel and Jimmy would pay, and pay dearly.

"You asked me where Ethan thinks you've been all this time,” Sara said, snapping Mike from his brooding. “And the answer is, he thinks you're in heaven. I told him you were killed in a car accident."

"What?” He shot up and glared at her. “Why the hell did you tell him that?"

"Because to me, you were dead.” Sara set his flannel shirt on the seat and wrapped her arms around herself. She turned to gaze out the window. “How could you have ever believed I'd sleep with Jimmy?” she asked in a near whisper.

"The same way you believed I could hit a woman. I saw the proof with my own eyes.” He blew out a frustrated breath and finger-combed his damp hair again. “I was a kid, Sara. I wasn't equipped with the best decision-making abilities back then."

"And now?"

"Now I'm a grown man who knows exactly what he wants.”
And I want you, sweetheart. You and our son.

She cast him a quick glance over her shoulder, but didn't say anything. He'd have given anything to know what was going through that gorgeous head of hers.

They'd been sitting in silence for a couple of minutes when she said, “I want you to promise me something."

"Anything."

She turned to face him. “Once Ethan learns the truth, and you become a part of his life, I want you to swear you'll never leave him again."

Again
. So damn ironic. Until a few minutes ago, Mike had no idea he'd left him in the first place. “I want to be angry as hell at you for even suggesting I'd leave my own son."

"Mike, I didn't mean—"

"Sweetheart, I know I have no one to blame but myself. You and Ethan are the complete innocents in all of this."

His gaze dropped to her lips. He'd wanted to kiss her since the moment he'd laid eyes on her yesterday in the bakery. He looked up. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes heavy-lidded. He knew that look—whether she was aware of it or not, she wanted him to kiss her.

And Mike had never been able to deny Sara anything.

He leaned forward, cupped her face with both hands, and rested his forehead against hers. “I've missed you so much,” he whispered, as overwhelmed by emotion as by the intoxicating scent that was uniquely hers.

With a groan full of eight years’ worth of longing, Mike slanted his mouth across hers in a fierce, urgent kiss. He coaxed her lips apart with the tip of his tongue, and when she opened for him, he deepened the kiss. A sexy little moan escaped her, and he crushed her in his arms.

Suddenly, she pushed against his chest and broke off the kiss. Lifting an unsteady hand to her lips, she said, “No, I don't want this."

Mike kept his frustration in check. He leaned back against the seat and let out a silent breath. “If the way you responded to me just now was any indication, I'd say you're in denial."

"Get over yourself; it was just a reflex. Besides, I happen to be seeing someone."

Mike clenched his jaw. It took all his self-control not to tell her
exactly
what kind of sleazeball her ‘someone’ was. Changing the subject back to Ethan, he said, “When am I going to meet my son?"

"Garrett and I plan to sit him down tomorrow after supper. We'll explain everything to him the best we can and hope he understands. I have no idea how he's going to react, though, so it may be a few days before he agrees to meet you. You'll have to be patient,” she finished, as if daring him to contest her authority where their son was concerned.

Mike had to grit his teeth, not because he might have to wait a few days to meet the boy, but because it was Garrett who held that power in his hands. Hell, if it were up to Garrett, Mike would never get to meet his son. And then Mike would end up looking like the bad guy when he did something stupid, like force the issue.

Deciding to play it safe, he said, “I've waited this long, a few more days won't kill me. Besides, I have a lot of work to do before I can put my parents’ house on the market."

She peered up at him through her lashes. “I guess that means you won't be moving back to Green Bay?"

"Of course I'm moving back,” he said. “I've lost enough time with my son. But there's no way in hell he'll ever set foot in that house. Besides,” he watched her face carefully, “there's nothing keeping me in Illinois."

"Oh?” She fanned the front of her halter top. “I figured you'd have women lined up around the block back in Illinois."

He grinned. “Well, I wouldn't want you to attack my already over-inflated ego, but that sounded like jealousy to me."

She rolled her eyes. “Like I said, I'm seeing someone. He's a wonderful man.” She continued to gaze out the window as she added, “And Ethan's crazy about him."

Mike clamped down on the inside of his cheek. The thought of that scumbag getting anywhere near Ethan made him want to smash his fist through the windshield. But he reminded himself Sara had no idea who Jason really was, or that Mike did. So he reined in his temper and played up on the jealousy angle.

"You just keep this Mr. Wonderful away from my son. It's going to be hard enough trying to build a relationship with him without you confusing him with other men. Christ, I'm going to have enough trouble just keeping Garrett from undermining any progress I make.” Or any progress you and I make, he thought, fighting the urge to lean over and kiss her again.

"Don't worry about Garrett. He may not care much for you, but he loves Ethan and would never do anything to hurt him."

He noticed she didn't respond to what he'd said about Jason, but decided to let it go. At least for now. Besides, if Mike had his way, Sara would be in
his
bed before the week was out, and Officer Scumbag would be sitting in a jail cell.