“It’s about to get prettier.” He’d been referring to the mountain landscape, but suddenly felt the need to clarify. “I mean, it gets really beautiful up this way.”
She met his eyes in the mirror and his mouth went dry. Pretty was an understatement. She looked different than she had before, every last one of the changes for the better, and she’d been beautiful as all get-out then. If he was going to survive having her under his roof, he would have to be very careful. He couldn’t let things get hot and heavy between them again, lest he put on a repeat performance of his bad behavior in the hotel room, possibly even hurt her.
No, she and the baby would settle in his bedroom, and he’d tell her to lock the door. Make up some story about really clever bears if he had to. He rolled his eyes at himself. Eva wasn’t an idiot, and he’d do well to remember as much. He took the exit for Route 299 just as the baby gurgled behind him, the sound as unexpected as a moose howling in a library.
Eva blew out air. “Guess I spoke too soon.”
Her voice took on a singsong quality as she cooed to the baby, the sound adding a surreal quality to an already strange trip.He had a kid.Now what the hell was he going to do about it? Of course he would provide for his child financially. The bigger question was whether he’d be able to be a part of Abby’s life.
He imagined tea parties and Barbie dolls, little pink dresses with ruffles and bows. Or maybe she would be one of those rough-and-tumble kids forever climbing trees with grass stains on her knees and dirt under her fingernails. His chest tightened at the image. God, he hoped it was the latter, because he definitely wasn’t a tea party kind of guy.
Scratch that. If his daughter wanted to have a tea party, then he would become a tea party kind of guy. The thoughthad one side of his mouth pulling up into a grin, the movement suddenly making him scrutinize this bizarre train of thought.
Did he really think that was all there was to it? Just a willingness to have tea parties and some vague desire to be a good dad? He couldn’t snap his fingers and become a different person, couldn’t become Somone who could be a real part of Eva and Abby’s lives. Real life didn’t work that way.
Eva was talking to him. “…an hour or two at the most. I just have to sleep when she’s sleeping?—”
He interrupted, “I don’t know how to be a father, Eva.”
“You don’t have to be.”
“And that’s okay with you? You don’t think it’s better for her to have two parents than one?”
“You just said yourself you didn’t want to do this.”
“No, I said I don’t know how. Not that I didn’t want to. There’s a difference.”
“But that’s what you meant, isn’t it? Tell the truth, Gavin. If you could turn back the clock and make it so today never happened, or better yet, that last year never happened, would I be here at all?”
He felt like he’d been caught, like he was completely transparent, every wretched part of him exposed to her like a criminal standing before a jury. He should deny it, if only to spare her feelings, but the words wouldn’t come.
The silence stretched until it was too late for lies. “No,” he said honestly. “I’m sorry I took you up on that lunch invitation. I should have fixed your tire and been on my way.”
She nodded. “Agreed. But since we can’t take it back, the only way forward is through. We’ll be out of your hair as soon as I find a safe place for Abby and me to stay.”
Her voice sounded wary, worn down, as if life haddisappointed her on more than one occasion. He was struck by the difference between the woman sitting in the backseat of his car and the one he’d bedded in Phoenix. That woman had been romantic and even a touch naive, glowing with a hopefulness that had almost made him believe in happy endings—at least for a while. This woman was pragmatic and stoic, asking only for the bare minimum while she carried the weight of the world alone.
You did that to her.
So much for happy endings.
Self-hatred creeped into his thoughts like water through the seams of a submerged boot. The weekend they’d spent together had been what changed her. He’d taken more than her virginity when he’d made love to her, as if the foulness that choked his own life had rubbed onto her like so much dirt.
One thing was crystal clear. The longer he was with Eva, the worse things would become for her and their daughter. If he gave a damn about them, the best thing he could do was to get the fuck out of their lives—faster than an arsonist fleeing the fire he’d just set.
7
They pulled up beside a two-story log cabin and Eva got out, eager to stretch her legs. Her eyes focused on the snow-covered mountain range in the distance. Arizona had mountains, but they were nothing like these majestic rolling hills, with evergreen trees covered in snow like a Christmas card.
She stole a glance at Gavin from the corner of her eye. She hadn’t forgiven him for his comments, even though it was she who’d pressed him for the truth. They still hurt her feelings much more than they ought to, considering he’d made no secret of his intentions toward her before he’d ever kissed her lips.
“I told you it was pretty up here,” he said.
Damn him and that deep voice that vibrated all the way up her spine with an intimacy she desperately wanted to avoid. She didn’t answer, opening the back door to get the car seat. Conversation was too hard, as if no nice words could possibly be spoken between them, and she longed to get some space between herself and Gavin DeGrey.
Preferably a door, too.
A thick metal door with a big, heavy lock.
