To Be a Dad (Harlequin Superromance) (21 page)

She shivered when Dusty ran his finger along the nape of her neck. “What’s this about you crying in the bathroom all the time?”

“Stop that.” She swatted at his hand. “Tyler’s exaggerating. It’s nothing.”

Dusty crowded her. “I like touching you. I think you’re throwing out those things. Pheromones.”

Teressa laughed; she couldn’t help herself. “What do you know about pheromones?”

Dusty settled his hands on her hips. “I know they make you sexy. Or make me think you’re sexy. Same thing.”

“Where did you hear about them?”

“Looked them up online.”

Teressa looked at him over her shoulder. “Why would you do a thing like that?”

“I was reading about being pregnant and changing hormones, and I saw an article about sexy hormones, so...” He shrugged.

“You’re so predictable.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

She hesitated, and then continued cutting the piecrust into manageable pieces. “No, it’s nice. I don’t like surprises.”

“Good thing I told you about the party, then. But you’re going to act surprised, right?”

“I’ve had a lot of practice over the years pretending to be surprised. There’s a large container of chili in the freezer. You can have that batch to take to the camp.” She wiped flour from her hands. “Do you have extra clothes for Brendon? His sleeping bag and his pajamas? Don’t forget his stuffed pig.”

“What kind of kid has a stuffed pig? I’m going to buy him a bear or a tiger.”

“Go ahead, but he loves that pig.”

“So, do I get a kiss before I go?”

“Aren’t you bringing Brendon to see me before you leave?”

“No. You’ll cry, and then he won’t want to go. Oh, come on.” Dusty laughed. “I didn’t say that to make you cry.”

She scrubbed the back of her hand across her eyes. “I know. I’m okay. But go.” She waved at the door and turned back to work when she heard him leave the kitchen. How many times had work saved her in the past?

She lined pie plates with crust as she listened to Dusty dig in the deep freeze for the chili. She could tell when he hesitated by the door, but he left without saying anything else. Small wonder. She’d cried all over him and snapped and snarled at him. She could give lessons on how to repel a man. She didn’t mean to push Dusty away. It could be she was even ready to be a couple now, which was kind of ironic because there was a good chance it was too late.

* * *

“W
HERE
’
S
M
OMMY
?”

“Working.” Dusty made a mental note to buy the little dude a knapsack. Teressa wouldn’t object to that, would she? He chucked the garbage bag filled with a sleeping bag and kid paraphernalia in the back of his truck. He’d answered that question a hundred times already. “Can you climb up into the truck?”

Brendon squinted at him, looking as if he was a hundred years old and trying to assess the situation. For Christ’s sake, you’d think he was a child abductor the way the kid was carrying on.

“Your mom said it was okay to take you to the hunting camp,” he said once again. “Pops and Cal are coming, and your grandfather is, too. Up you go.” He swept his hand in front of him. He could have easily picked up Brendon and put him in his car seat, but he wanted him to climb into the truck by himself. If Dusty couldn’t convince him to do even that, he might as well forget taking him all the way out to the camp. They’d just have to turn around and come right back.

Brendon sighed like an old man. Dusty sympathized. “Okay, but my mom better not get mad.” He crawled into the car seat Dusty had installed in the backseat weeks ago. It hadn’t taken him long to realize what a monumental hassle it was to move Brendon’s car seat from one vehicle to another. By the time the kids outgrew the seats he’d be worrying about them driving by themselves. Parenting was turning out to be one long worry.

Dusty climbed in and started the engine.

“I need my pig. Where’s my pig?” Brendon looked on the edge of tears.

Dusty turned off the motor, got out and dug in the garbage bag until he found the stupid pig. “Here.” He tossed it to Brendon and started the motor again. “What’s with the pig?”

Brendon hugged the stuffed animal. “I like him.”

“Why?”

“’Cause.”

He supposed that was as good an answer as anything else. He pulled up in front of the barber shop and honked his horn. Brendon’s father, Stan, strolled out of the shop at the same time. Dusty cursed under his breath and stared straight ahead to avoid eye contact. A minute later, Stan knocked on Brendon’s window. Reluctantly, Dusty lowered the automatic window.

“Hey, son. How are ya?” Brendon cringed when Stan reached inside and ruffled his hair. Every protective instinct Dusty possessed roared to the surface. The hair on his arm actually bristled. He’d already terrorized Brendon once. This time he’d keep it together if it killed him.

“I hear insurance agreed to replace your car,” Dusty said.

“Yeah, but this time I’m buying a truck.”

“Got a haircut?” Dusty said to make an effort to be friendly.

Stan ran his hand over his crew cut. “Old man Wilder doesn’t mind giving out a freebie once in a while. We’ve been friends for a while.”

“Really?” It seemed like an unlikely friendship. Mr. Wilder was such a mild-mannered man, much like Brendon, actually.

“How about you? You friends with the old man?”

“I don’t know him all that well.”

“He doesn’t mind helping out here and there. He’d do anything for that daughter of his and his grandkids.” Stan smirked, his bloated face twisting into a cunning look. “I’m a little short today. Don’t suppose you could spot me a fiver?”

Instead of grabbing Stan by the scruff of his neck and dragging him through the window to plow his fist in his face, Dusty forced himself to smile. “Sorry. I don’t carry cash anymore. Gotta go.” He fluttered the gas pedal. “See you around.”

Stan stumbled backward when Dusty pulled away from the curb. Probably not the best move, but it was either leave right away or get out of the truck and punch the slimeball in the face. Teressa needed to talk to the lawyer about getting that insect out of their lives.

He was tired of excusing Stan’s behavior. A free haircut once in a while seemed fairly innocuous, but did Stan also ask Teressa’s father for money? He’d have to ask Pops for advice on how best to approach the situation. He didn’t want to embarrass Mr. Wilder. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed the barber shop to let Mr. Wilder know he’d be a few minutes late picking him up. After Stan had enough time to clear out, Dusty planned to swing back and pick up Wilder.

He glanced over at Brendon, who was wiping his runny nose with his hand. Dusty flipped open the glove box and pulled out a package of clean wipes. “Can you open one of those yourself?”

“I think so.” Brendon went to work on opening one with his little fingers. Maybe it would distract him from that unfortunate encounter with his father. He hated that Stan could lay claim to Brendon. Donating sperm did not make a man a father.

“Dusty?”

“Yeah?”

Brendon had opened the package and was wiping his face and hands. “Can you be my daddy?”

Aw, hell. What was he supposed to say to that? Dusty’s heart squeezed tight, like the kid had reached into his chest and yanked on it. “I want to be, and in a lot of ways I can. Like right now, me taking you to the camp and going for a walk in the woods. That’s what dads do with their sons. But I don’t know if I can be your legal father.”

“Will you ask?”

Dusty smiled. “Yeah, I will. We should do something to seal the deal of us being best buds, what do you think?”

“Kiss my pig!” Brendon squealed and stuck the old, worn stuffed animal under Dusty’s nose.

Oh, man. He closed his eyes for a second. If anyone saw him kissing the frigging pig they’d never let him forget it. He looked one way, then the other, to make sure no one had pulled up beside him and quickly kissed the pig’s nose. “Your turn.”

Brendon kissed the pig fifty times and cuddled it all the way out to the camp. By the time they arrived, Dusty had begun to wonder if he should have brought Sarah instead.

Three hours later, Dusty stuck another couple of logs into the stove and closed the door. He was glad he’d bought the new stove last year, the kind with a window in front to watch the fire, because it was slowly sinking in that being able to afford extras—and the list of what that included grew daily—was now a luxury that belonged to his past. Someone should give a guy some warning about being cut off from having money to spend. It wasn’t that he begrudged the kids the things they needed, but... Okay, so he was selfish. Who knew? He worked hard, but really, life had been pretty damned easy so far. Hell, he’d just moved out of home less than a year ago. Kind of pathetic when he thought about it.

After a walk in the woods earlier with Brendon and Mr. Wilder—he’d insisted on Dusty calling him by his first name, Dave—Dusty realized Brendon was probably going to take after his grandfather and be a biologist. That meant at least four years of university they’d have to pay for.

Dave had surprised all of them—him, Cal, Pops and Adam—with the depth of his knowledge of local plants. Dusty had forgotten he’d worked as a biologist for the provincial government. As Pops pointed out, Dave should be passing that knowledge on to school-age kids. Even at three years old, Brendon had held on to his every word. Who’d have guessed old Mr. Wilder was an expert on all the plants Dusty had seen all his life, but couldn’t identify. He was looking forward to another hike in the spring when there were more plants, because the frost had killed off a good number last week.

“You’ve got the old camp fixed up pretty good, son.” Pops pushed back from the table with a groan. “Someone put that chili away. I can’t stop eating it.”

“Me, too,” Adam agreed. Dusty couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to tell Adam about the get-together. Showed how much he had on his mind lately. Pops had let him know, though. Dusty snickered. Instead of hunting for deer, they’d sat around eating, telling stories to Brendon and debating the pros and cons of a sit-down dinner as opposed to finger food for Adam and Sylvie’s wedding. If he and Teressa ever got married, he wanted to elope.

“Good thing I fixed the old camp up last year,” he said to Pops. “Teressa says we’ll be about fifty by the time the baby grows up, so pretty much what you see is what I get.”

“What did you decide about that heat pump for the house?” Cal asked.

“I’m getting it in a couple of days. You ever install one of them?”

“Nope.”

“Wanna help me with mine?”

“Nope.”

“Can’t say I blame you. Seems like all I do these days is try to figure out how to install something or how to fix it.”

“Quit whining. I’ll give you a hand installing the heat pump,” Cal said. “A lot of people want to buy those pumps. I could probably pick up some extra cash if I knew how to install them.”

“So you’ll make all your mistakes with mine,” Dusty said, partially joking, but mostly not.

Cal grinned. “Exactly.”

“Let me know how it works out,” Adam added. “Sylvie and I will probably be looking for a new furnace or something for the big house.”

Dusty perked up. “Why? Is Sylvie pregnant?”

“No. Good thing, too. My house is big enough for the two of us, but I wouldn’t want to add anyone else. Beanie’s still got the bathroom at the big house ripped apart, and now he’s all excited because you’ve been talking about a second bathroom in your basement. God knows when he’ll get ours done. Tolsters want one, too, I hear.”

“Trust me, I need my second bathroom more than you need yours,” Dusty grumbled. He’d been so desperate a couple of mornings, he’d considered erecting an outhouse in the backyard.

“I got to pee, Dusty.” Brendon tugged on his hand.

“Okay.” Dusty took his tiny hand in his. “You ever used an outhouse?”

“No.” Brendon sounded doubtful. “Can I pee outside instead?”

“Yes, you can. You know why?” He opened the door and ushered the small boy out in front of him.

“Why?”

“Because there are no women around. We can fart and we can spit and we can pee outside until we go home.”

“How come we can’t do that at home?”

“Because women don’t like it, and we want them to like us. Do you remember how to pee outside?”

“Yes.”

Dusty knew it was ridiculous to be proud of the way Brendon took a leak on his own, but that didn’t stop him from grinning his approval. After Brendon was done, he slipped his hand into Dusty’s again. “Why do we want women to like us?”

“Because...they smell nice.”

Brendon’s eyes grew round. “They do! Aunt Anita smells really, really nice.”

Dusty laughed. “So does your mom.”

Brendon popped his thumb into his mouth. Crap. He had to blow it by mentioning Teressa. And he really didn’t think Brendon should be sucking his thumb without washing it first. Kids were a lot of work. You had to watch everything you said around them, and everything they did.

“Do you know how to play poker?” Light and warmth spilled out of the cabin when Dusty opened the door. It smelled good inside, a mix of wood smoke and the lingering scents of chili and coffee.

“What’s poker?”

“Kid, you’ve got so much to learn. Bring any money with you?” Dusty teased.

“I’ve got this much.” He held up all five fingers, and then folded one down.

Dusty put his hand on Brendon’s thin shoulder, and—not for the first time—was amazed at how frail he was. “That’ll buy you about a thousand toothpicks. Wash your hands at the sink. Come on, boys.” He pulled a chair up to the table. “Brendon’s my good luck charm and he’s going to help me clean you out.”

Dusty grinned at his brother. Cal had taught him how to play poker and how to put someone in a headlock, and had also let Dusty practice driving, using Cal’s first truck. He’d almost burnt out the clutch, learning how to shift gears. He hoped Brendon would be as great a big brother to the child he and Teressa had made. He cleared the sudden lump in his throat and started dealing the cards.