Shooting the Moon (25 page)

H
ARLEY BRACED HIMSELF
as he pulled into the Worthingtons’ front drive and parked. Autumn was already turning to hard winter in Portland—there were patches of snow on the ground and the sky was gray and overcast—but it wasn’t the cold that made him reluctant to get out of the car. It was the past. After six months of heaven, he had to come back and face this place, face Quentin.

Brandon obviously felt none of the same hesitation. He hopped out of the Suburban as soon as it came to a complete stop, along with Duke, the dog Harley and Lauren had bought for him when they moved to California, and dashed to the house.

“Wait till Grandma sees you,” Brandon told his dog.

Harley watched the pair ruefully. He sincerely doubted Grandfather Worthington was going to be very pleased about having a canine guest. Her father wasn’t an animal-lover, Lauren had explained, telling Brandon to make sure the dog didn’t lick Grandpa or jump up on him. But as unhappy as he might be to have a dog in the house, Harley knew Quentin would prefer the dog to him. After all, he was the man who’d taken both of Quentin’s daughters away from him. He was the son of a bitch who wasn’t good enough to—

“You nervous?”

Harley glanced away from the Worthington house to focus on Lauren, who was sitting with her door open, waiting for him. “No,” he lied.

“You don’t have to come with us, if you don’t want to,” she said. “I’ll understand. You can get a motel, and we’ll meet up with you after a short visit.”

“No, I want to come. I promised your mother I’d bring the whole family, and here we are. I’m sure your father will deal with it.”
He’d better deal with it,
he thought,
because if he hurts you again…

The old anger flared up, flashing through Harley as hot and bright as lightning, but Harley consciously forced it down. Today was Thanksgiving. He and his little family had flown from California and rented a car in anticipation of spending the holiday with Lauren’s parents. Harley was going to assume the best and do all he could to make it pleasant for Lauren and Brandon, even though he hadn’t heard anything in the past six months to give him much hope that Quentin had softened. Lauren and her mother frequently spoke on the telephone, but every time Harley questioned Lauren about her father, she shook her head. “He still won’t talk to me,” she always said. “Whenever I call, he immediately passes the phone to my mother.” Then she always finished with a smile and a “he’ll come around.”

Harley hoped he would, for Lauren’s sake. He hated the sad expression that flitted across her face when her father was mentioned and she thought Harley wasn’t looking, hated the fact that she wanted something he couldn’t give her.

“What do you think he’s going to say about the baby?” he asked.

Lauren patted her round belly and shrugged nonchalantly, but Harley had spent too much time memorizing her every expression to miss the uncertainty in her eyes. “What can he say?” she said. “I’m thrilled. And our baby is part of us now.”

That was what worried Harley. The baby was part of
him,
which meant Quentin wouldn’t want anything to do
with it, and the rejection would probably devastate Lauren….

“Let’s go,” he said, before his mind could present him with any more possibilities.

Rounding the car, he helped Lauren out, then walked beside her to the front door, which stood open. Inside, Harley could hear Marilee gushing over Brandon—how tall he was getting, how handsome—but there was no sign of Quentin.

“Hi, Mom,” Lauren said.

When Marilee looked up, her face brightened even more. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. “I’ve missed you so much.” She embraced her daughter and they talked briefly and excitedly about the pregnancy, then Marilee turned to Harley.

“You brought them back to me,” she said. “Just like you promised.”

Harley nodded. “It’s good to see you, Mrs. Worthington. You’re looking fit as ever.”

“Oh, don’t give me that flattery stuff,” she said with a chuckle. “You’re the one who looks good. Still handsome as the devil, I see. Lauren must be feeding you well.”

He smiled at Lauren and felt suddenly glad that he was standing in Quentin Worthington’s living room. It was where his wife had been raised, where she belonged this Thanksgiving, and whether it was a pleasant stay for him or not, he knew, in that moment, he’d walk through fire for her. “I certainly can’t complain,” he said. “You taught her well.”

“I can’t take the credit for her, but I will ask you for one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t call me Mrs. Worthington.”

Harley hesitated. “Would you like me to call you by your first name?”

Marilee took Lauren’s hand as though they stood together on this issue. “I’d like you to call me Mom, if you can get used to it. I realize we’ve had our differences in the past, but—” she made a nervous gesture with her free hand “—well, I’m hoping we can put it behind us and be a real family.”

Harley knew the “mom” part would feel strange on his tongue, especially at first, but he was all for putting the past behind them. “Sure,” he said. “No problem,” and was rewarded with a dazzling smile from his wife that made him want to pull her into his arms and kiss her breathless. How he loved her. He was so happy to have her and Brandon and their baby….

“Where’s Grandpa?” Brandon asked, and the kissing fantasy instantly dissipated.

“He must not have heard the doorbell,” Marilee said, but she seemed as tense as Lauren. They exchanged a look, then Marilee headed out of the room. “I’ll get him.”

“It’ll be okay,” Lauren said in her absence.

Brandon didn’t seem to be paying much attention. He was too distracted by his Golden Retriever, which was still only a puppy, but Harley put a hand on Lauren’s lower back to reassure her.

“Sure it will,” he said, and then Quentin was standing at the end of the hall, staring at him, and he wondered if he’d been wrong.

“Hi, Daddy,” Lauren said, her voice full of hope and longing.

Answer her,
Harley thought.
Give some welcoming sign….

But Quentin didn’t speak. He stood rooted to the spot, and shoved his hands into his pockets. Just when Harley was about to take Lauren’s hand and insist they leave rather than let Lauren be hurt any more, he noticed tears pooling in the older man’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Lauren,” Quentin managed after several
seconds. “I’m sorry.” The words sounded as though they’d been wrung from him, but they were there, soft and sweet and best of all, sincere. And they were enough for Lauren.

She immediately launched herself into his arms. “Oh, Daddy, it’s okay. I love you,” she said, but he held her off and directed his gaze at Harley.

“I’m not finished yet,” he said. He cleared his throat and his chest expanded as though he’d just taken a big gulp of air. “I owe Harley an apology, too. If he’ll accept it.”

Harley couldn’t believe his ears. Quentin Worthington was apologizing
to him?
“Of course I’ll accept it,” he said.

“You’ve done right by my daughter,” Quentin went on. “Marilee’s told me how happy she is about the baby. And I’ve seen the wedding photos she sent. That one with both of you on the motorcycle, driving away, and her in her wedding dress…” He smiled vaguely and shook his head. “Anyway, Brandon’s happy, too. I’m grateful for that.”

“Thank you,” Harley said and suddenly, all the anger he’d ever felt, all the resentment, drained out of him, and the seeds of something else took its place, something a lot like love, or respect, or both. He watched Quentin hug Lauren and Brandon, then felt Marilee at his side, nudging him toward Quentin. Closing the gap between them, he stuck out his hand and smiled when Quentin clasped it.

“To forgetting the past,” Quentin said as their hands met.

“To a bright future as friends,” Harley replied.

“As family,” Quentin corrected, giving his hand a solid shake. Then Lauren was hugging Harley and he could feel the swell of his baby as she pressed close. Bran
don was hugging him, too, and Lauren’s parents were holding each other and smiling and crying, and Harley thought coming for Thanksgiving was the best promise he’d ever kept.