Love at Last (Last Frontier Lodge #2) (7 page)

Delia remembered her last conversation with Terry more vividly than she’d like. Not because it was hazy with lost-love memories, but because it was the day she learned the sharp difference between perception and reality and came to learn how easily some people could lie. She swatted the memory away and focused on now. For a second, she tried to stay calm, but then decided it didn’t matter. She’d never had her chance to let loose on Terry for leaving Nick to wonder who his father was and why he was never around. It would be hard for her to care less about Terry being a part of her life, but his absence mattered a lot to Nick, if only because it left a giant, gaping question mark in his heart.

“What the hell do you want, Terry?”

Silence greeted her, so she barreled onward. “It’s been six years and you just pick up the phone and call? I don’t know what you want or why the hell you’ve bothered to call now, but you’d better not think you can just waltz into our lives like this!” Her heart hammered, and she felt sick with anger.

“I, uh… Look, Delia, you have all kinds of reasons to be pissed off at me. I’m calling because my mom found out about your son and asked me to call you. She’d like a chance to meet him.”

Delia noticed Terry didn’t say “our son,” but rather “your son.” She was alternately relieved and angry at the distinction. Her heart pounded, and her mind spun. All these years, she’d tried to come to terms with the fact that Nick’s father had zero interest in him. She’d had to accept her own poor judgment and not beat herself up too much—incredibly difficult sometimes—and consider what she’d do if he ever reached out. She took a breath and tried to gather her composure.

Not yet. “Oh, so you think you can just call and ask if your mom can meet
my
son? You don’t even have the nerve to say he’s yours. I guess I should be thankful for that because you’re nothing more than an accidental sperm donor.” Her tone was bitter, and she didn’t care. She had to cultivate her composure for Nick’s sake, but not for Terry’s.

Terry was silent for several beats. “Like I said, I get why you’d be pissed off. I’m only calling because of my mother.”

Delia let his words sink in, her disappointment echoing against the absence of his interest in getting to know his son. She’d rehearsed imaginary answers to him a thousand times, but she hadn’t rehearsed the answer to this. Nick’s father wasn’t interested in him, but his grandmother was.
Shit, shit, shit. Think, think, think.
Another deep breath, and she finally managed to speak. “The only reason I’m not hanging up the phone is because of
my
son. If your mom wants to meet Nick, she can call me directly. Feel free to give her my number. I’d rather you not call at all unless you’re interested in a relationship with your son. If that ever happens, the terms will be mine. Are we clear?”

The last part she’d memorized, so the words slid off her tongue easily, even though fury was pounding through her. Her stomach felt hollow and her heart clenched with hurt for Nick. She waited.

Terry finally spoke. “I understand. I appreciate you’re willing to talk to my mom. I don’t think I ever mentioned her to you. Her name is Helen Carson.”

“Nope. You never mentioned her to me,” she replied, exasperated with him after only minutes of conversation.

“Right. I’ll tell her she can call.” After another awkward silence, Terry spoke again. “I get why you think I’m a total ass. I’m trying not to make things worse by trying to be something I don’t know if I can be.”

“What would that be?” Delia asked unable to keep her voice from vibrating with the force of her anger.

“A father. My life’s been kind of a mess. I’m not the most stable guy. It may seem like I’ve been blowing you off all these years, but for the last few, I thought it was best if I stayed out of the way.”

Questions tumbled through her mind, but she held her silence. It was up to him to do more than he had and she wasn’t about to open a can of worms for Nick for someone who wasn’t sure they were ready to be there for him.

“Okay. How about you have your mother call me? If something changes, maybe she can let me know.”

“Right. Thanks, Delia.”

“Sure.” She ended the call without a goodbye. Her chest was tight and her throat ached and all of her pain was for Nick, her sweet little boy who raced at life with open arms, who asked questions about the father he’d never known and who accepted answers that were hard for anyone, much less a six year old boy. She leaned her forehead against the steering wheel and forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply.

After several moments, she sat up and glanced around her. She’d stopped to pick up mail at the post office. She opened the car door, letting the icy winter air wash over her. It settled her heightened nerves. Slamming the door behind her, she made her way inside, the thin layer of snow crunching under her boots. She quickly checked the mail and tucked it in her purse. On the way out, she was looking down when she heard her name. When her eyes lifted, they collided with Garrett. He stood near the end of the aisle where her post office box was, leaning against the wall. His jacket hung loose. He had one hand tucked in his pocket. It tugged his jeans down just enough to reveal a glimpse of his muscled abs. A curl of lust slid through her veins.

He arched a brow, his blue eyes teasing. “Do I get a hello?”

Too late, she realized she’d been silent for a beat too long. “Oh, right. Hello,” she offered. More flustered than usual after her call with Terry, she couldn’t think of what to say next.

Garrett saved her with a question. “So where are we going tonight?” His slow smile sent her belly somersaulting.

“I thought maybe we could go to the Boathouse. Have you been there before?”

He shook his head slowly. “I haven’t been anywhere other than the lodge and Misty Mountain.”

“It might not be like what you’re used to in Seattle, but the Boathouse has some good food.”

“Seattle leans toward trendy, but trendy doesn’t always mean amazing food. Your cooking is as good as anything you could find in Seattle.”

His quick compliment made her smile and then blush. He chuckled. “Don’t tell me I’m the first person who’s ever told you you’re a damn good chef.”

She shook her head rapidly. “No, but Diamond Creek’s just a tiny corner of the world.”

“Trust me, the big city’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” His eyes, darkening to navy, coasted over her. Her breath became short and her pulse skittered.

“The Boathouse sounds perfect. Do you want me to pick you up?” he asked.

Taking her father at his word, she’d told him she was going out for the night with friends. She could have Garrett pick her up and not worry about too many questions. “Sounds good. Six o’clock?”

“You got it.”
 

He pushed away from the wall and closed the distance between them. Before she could form a thought, he leaned over and nudged her chin up with his knuckles and kissed her. She was coming to learn that kisses with Garrett were dangerous. His lips caught hers, softly at first, shifting to rough and deep in seconds. His kisses wiped thought clean from her mind, sent sensations rolling through her hot and fast and made her melt inside and out. By the time he pulled away, she was practically a puddle. Her panties were soaked with desire and her nipples were so tight, they ached.

He held still, a fraction of space between their lips. “You make me crazy,” he whispered roughly.

A laugh bubbled out of her and she nodded, flushing madly. He made her crazy too, but the second her brain kicked into gear, she had to remember to get a grip.

He nipped at her lip and then dropped another soft kiss before taking a deliberate step back. “See you at six,” he said.

Someone came around the corner. Delia suddenly remembered where they were. That’s how bad it was with Garrett. In the last few moments, it was as if they were alone in the world—nothing and no one existed but them and the desire shimmering in the air around them.

She glanced up and met his eyes, which held a hint of frustration as if it strained him to hold back. “See you then.” She clutched the mail to her chest and walked past him, hurrying out to her car.

As she drove home, her mind bounced between anticipation about Garrett and the call from Terry. Just because Terry was a jerk didn’t mean his parents were, but she didn’t know them. By the time she considered trying to track them down, she realized she didn’t know how to reach anyone in his family. She didn’t even have names for his parents. Looking back, she felt a twinge of guilt, but she swatted it away. She couldn’t be responsible for everything, especially when Terry had made it abundantly clear he wanted nothing to do with Nick.

She forced her mind off that worry and onto tonight. Even though part of her, a big part if she admitted it, was thrilled Garrett wanted to see her, another part of her was nearly frozen with fear. She hadn’t been on a date since college. She had slammed the door shut on relationships for the last six years. It was overwhelming enough to have a baby on her own. Throw in the mix that her mother, whom she’d loved dearly, had been diagnosed with cancer and passed away within six months of the diagnosis, and Delia’s emotional cup had been full. Once she thought her father was doing better, she’d just been hanging on and trying to find a steady job she could enjoy that paid the bills. Diamond Creek had a lot to offer in some ways, but most of the local restaurants were family owned. Gage’s decision to reopen Last Frontier Lodge gave her an opportunity to do what she loved and paid well enough she could breathe easy for the first time in a long time.

Along came Garrett, an entirely unexpected curve in the road of her life. Oh, she’d fantasized about the right man coming along. She just hadn’t figured he would be heart-stopping sexy and a high-flying, wealthy lawyer to boot. He was more the stuff of fantasy, and she wasn’t so sure it was a good idea to indulge those fantasies. She reminded herself again and again, he wouldn’t be here for long, and his life was in another world. Yet, she couldn’t resist taking a shot to experience more of what she felt with him. Even if it hurt her in the end, she didn’t want to go through life living small.

***

Garrett looked across the table at Delia. She was so damn beautiful. Her honeyed hair fell in tousled waves over her shoulders, framing her face with loose curls. Her blue eyes made him want to dive in and forget himself. He tried to recall if he’d ever had a dinner date that didn’t involve business and came up with nothing. He only ever had dates to have a beautiful woman on his arm at business and social functions. Work ruled his life, including on the social plane.

Dinner with Delia had nothing to do with work. He was curious about her, a curiosity foreign to him. He wanted to
know
her. He was quickly coming to learn why she was so beloved to her friends and family. She was warm, kind, funny and went at life putting everyone else’s needs ahead of her own. He admired the hell out of her for being a single parent. When the conversation offered an opening, he asked about Nick’s father.

“If you don’t mind me asking, is Nick’s father from around here?”

Delia’s eyes darkened, and she was quiet for a moment. “No, he’s not. He’s never been a part of Nick’s life. It’s an old story,” she said with a shrug. “I got pregnant in college. It definitely wasn’t planned, and that was the end of our relationship. I, uh, got pretty used to him not being around and honestly don’t really want him to be a part of my life, but it matters to Nick. Oddly enough, he called me today. Right out of the blue.”

Her words were matter of fact until the end. Cold anger coursed through Garret just thinking what it meant for her and Nick to have the man who was his father simply not be there. He wasn’t sure what to say, but he felt he needed to say something. “I’m sorry. That, well, it sucks. Completely.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “What did he want when he called?”

She idly circled her wineglass in her hand, spinning the stem carefully. “He said his mother found out about Nick and wants to meet him. It took me so off guard, I didn’t know what to think. I did get to tell him what an ass I thought he was though,” she said with a bitter smile.

Garrett watched her carefully. She seemed open to talking. At a time when he would have usually tried to find a graceful way to exit the conversation, he found himself continuing. “I bet that felt good,” he said with a wry smile.

She shrugged. “For a minute. Doesn’t change anything for Nick though. Now I have to figure out what to do about Nick’s grandmother.”

Garrett nodded slowly, the first thought coming to his mind was how important his grandmother had been to him and his siblings. “What do you think you should do?”

“Probably let her meet him. Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that Terry
still
isn’t interested in Nick, and I have to worry about whether she’ll try to push that, it’s an easy yes.”

Garrett watched her, realizing that Delia just kept blowing him away. A situation in which anger easily could have overtaken her, she didn’t deny she was angry, but she didn’t let it color her choices. “Maybe you play it by ear and see what happens.”

Delia smiled softly. “That’s probably what I’ll do.” She took a swallow of wine and set her empty glass on the table. “Enough of the serious stuff, tell me some stories I can tease Gage about.”

Conversation moved on to lighter matters. Not much later, their waiter approached the table with the check. Garrett quickly slid the tray into his hand, returning it with a credit card. Delia’s hand paused in mid-air before she glared at him.

“You don’t have to get that,” she said, her eyes tinged with defiance.

“Maybe I don’t have to, but I want to.”

She bit her lip and her breath came out in a soft huff. His eyes locked onto her plump lips, sending blood shooting to his groin. He could barely keep a lid on the lust that surged through him whenever he was near Delia. His body rumbled on high idle, and all it took was a glance at the give of her lip under her teeth and his mind could focus only on how amazing her lips felt under his.

His eyes dipped down to the curves of her breasts. She wore a bright blue shirt with a scoop neck. The fitted cotton outlined her full breasts. Her skin, scattered with freckles, made his mouth water. All he wanted was to lean across the table and trace the soft curves with his tongue. He took a breath and forced his eyes up, only to notice her pulse fluttering in her neck. Another breath and his eyes collided with hers. His chest tightened, his body taut with need. He was not this man—this man who was half out of his mind with need for a woman and would do just about anything for her.