Wildflower Wedding (20 page)

Tony felt a flash of alarm thinking he'd somehow offended her. Was she leaving? His stomach felt as if it dropped to his toes and he scrambled to stand up, nearly knocking over his chair. But instead of heading toward her patio, she opened his door and walked inside. Digger followed at her heels like a lovesick puppy. Tony grinned. He could relate.

Confused, Tony thought Trish might head over to the sink to do the dishes, but she paused by the archway leading upstairs. His heart pounded and he stopped in his tracks.

Trish tilted her head, making her blond curls slide seductively over her shoulder. “Don't you want to find out?”

“Absolutely.” After three long slightly limping strides, Tony pulled her into his arms and then pushed her up against the wall. Raising her hands about her head, he threaded his fingers through hers, held her captive, and then kissed her as he'd been dying to do all night long. He moved his mouth to her neck, nibbling, licking, loving the feeling of her hair against his cheek. He felt her breath catch and she moaned softly when he sucked her earlobe into his mouth.

“Let go of my hands. I want to . . .
need to
touch you.”

“Not yet,” he said, and then kissed her almost roughly, demanding, while pressing his body against hers. She'd been in control all night and now he wanted to turn the tables. He planned on making love to her until she trembled in his arms and cried out his name. “I want you in my bed,” he said hotly in her ear, and she nodded.

“Take me there.”

Tony released one hand but held on to the other, leading her up the stairs to his bedroom. After turning on one small lamp he turned back to her. “Undress for me, Trish.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You first,” she said, not willing to give up her hold on him.

Tony nodded and then tugged his shirt over his head. He loved the look of longing in her eyes, and when she reached out and ran her hands over his chest he sucked in a breath. She tugged his shorts down and when she lightly traced a fingertip down his shaft he felt the sensation all the way to his toes.

Taking a step backward, she pulled her shirt over her head and shimmied out of her jeans.

“God . . . ,” Tony breathed, and let his gaze travel over her standing there in a red satin teddy edged with black lace. He knew that it took some courage for her to do this, and the knowledge made the moment sexy, seductive, and something that would remain in his memory forever. With her shoulders back, she stood there boldly, proudly but with a slightly vulnerable edge that made him fall in love with her even more. “You take my breath away,” Tony said, and meant it. Although toned and firm, Trish had the full curves of a real woman.

She smiled and when she shrugged ever so slightly one delicate strap slid over her shoulder. The move was unintentional and so sexy that Tony stepped closer. He cupped her full breasts in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples until they pebbled through the satin. Dipping his head, he replaced his hands with his mouth. She sucked in a breath and sank backward onto the bed as if her legs could no longer hold her. Tony understood. He felt the same way.

Tony paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of her propped up against the pillows in the red teddy. Her golden curls tumbled in sexy disarray. She looked up at him with wide eyes and then gave him a slightly shy but come-get-me grin.

“What are you waiting for?”

“I just wanted to look at you. File this picture of you in my brain for future reference.”

She laughed, throaty and smoky, before peeling the teddy off and tossing it to the side.

“Ah . . . and this sight is even better.” He paused to roll on protection and then slid his body against hers. The feeling of skin on skin had him groaning before he lowered his head for a long, hot kiss. “I want to touch you, taste you everywhere,” he said before starting a trail of moist kisses down her body. He gave his attention to her breasts, licking, sucking, and nibbling until she arched her back and fisted her hands in the sheet. Tony traveled lower, easing her thighs apart so he could taste her intimately.

“God . . . Tony . . . no. Oh!” She threaded her fingers in his hair and arched upward. Her breath became shallow delicate pants. “This is, oh . . . too much. . . . I . . . ,” she pleaded, but he wasn't about to stop. For him, pleasing a woman was almost as satisfying as being buried deep inside her. “Please . . . I want . . .”

“This?” Knowing she was close to climaxing, Tony scooted up, lifted her hips, and thrust inside her wet heat.

“Yes!” She hooked her long legs around him while he made love to her deeply, savoring each thrust, each stroke. When she pressed her shoulders into the pillows and arched upward, he felt her body open and then clench, and hearing her throaty cry of his name sent Tony over the edge with her.

Pleasure erupted, gripping and intense, and then tumbled downward, wrapping around him slowly, sweetly. With a satisfied groan he rolled to the side and pulled Trish close. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the scent before tenderly kissing her shoulder.

“That was—” she began, but he kissed her neck and caressed her breast.

“Wonderful?”

“Yeah, that.”

“We're just getting started, you know,” he promised in her ear.

“Bring it on,” she challenged with a low giggle, and then rolled around to face him. She gave him a slow, sultry kiss and then laid her head on his chest.

Tony rubbed his hand up her back and then kissed the top of her head, feeling protective. “Stay with me tonight.”

She nodded, kissed his chest but didn't speak. She didn't have to say a word. He understood.

Facing the Music

R
EESE SPREAD THE LAST OF THE FUDGE ICING ONTO THE
chocolate layer cake and then turned and flicked a worried glance over at his mother. She'd been exceptionally quiet all afternoon and evening. While he was anxious to head over to see Gabby, he wasn't about to leave until he got to the bottom of what was bothering her. When she came over to gather up his dirty dishes, Reese asked, “Hey, Mom, everything okay?”

“Sure,” she said, but turned swiftly toward the sink and started rinsing the big metal bowl. “You should get on over to Gabby's. There's nothing left to do,” she added over her shoulder.

“Mom, I'm not leaving until we talk about whatever's on your mind. Gabby will understand. Let's go out into the dining room and have a seat.”

She dried the bowl and then wiped her hands on a towel before tossing it into the dirty laundry pile that she'd wash at home. She piddled around doing everything but looking at him.

“I mean it, Mom,” he told her gently. “I won't leave.”

“Okay.” She nodded and followed him into the dining room. Reese sat down, but when she started straightening things on the table instead of talking, he knew something was definitely wrong.

Reese hoped she was going to tell him that she'd finally made the decision to file for divorce. He knew how difficult it must be to voice the words and he opened his mouth to get the conversation started, but she spoke up first.

“Your father bought Fred's Garage.”

Reese sat up straighter and felt his heart lurch. “What?”

“Maggie broke the news to me. I didn't even hear it from your father.”

“So . . . is he in town?” Reese tried to wrap his brain around this information. “Moving back here?”

She shrugged but then nodded. “Apparently, he's bought a house too. Maggie didn't realize until recently that Mike owns a company called M.P. Properties LLC. When she put two and two together she wanted to give me a heads-up.”

“Mom . . . but he . . . he hasn't contacted you?”

“No. Not unless you count the flowers.”

Reese felt a flash of excitement, a warm rush of hope, but then anger doused it like a cold splash of water.

“But I imagine he will.”

Reese suddenly wanted to shout and throw things, but he knew he had to keep it together for his mother's sake. “So, how do you feel about this?”

“Stunned. I imagine you are too.”

All Reese could do was nod. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel. How he could feel. “When he contacts you, calls you, or whatever I want to go with you. You don't have to face this on your own. Maybe Uncle Tony should go too.”

“No, I've already thought of that. I know Tony will always be there for us, but we need to face this together. You and me.”

Reese reached over and took his mother's hand. Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears, but she squeezed his fingers.

“Listen, I'm strong. Stronger than ever. We've built a nice life here in Cricket Creek and I won't let anyone destroy what we've rebuilt. Especially not your father. But we'll hear him out because you're right. We deserve an explanation. It's just that a little heads-up would have been nice.”

“We didn't get one when he left. Frankly, I'm not surprised that he didn't warn us. But I am floored that he has the damned nerve to return to Cricket Creek,” Reese added darkly. He had the urge to pound his fists on the table but refrained for his mother's sake.

“We both knew that something was up, Reese. I had that feeling after the roses and I know you did too.”

Reese sighed. “Now what?”

She lifted one shoulder and Reese hated the haunted look in her eyes. “I guess we wait,” she said.

“No.” Reese shook his head. “We've waited long enough. We're going to track his sorry ass down and get some answers. And I'm going home with you. I'm not going to risk him coming to you while you're home alone.”

“Reese, no! You need to head on over to Gabby's. We'll revisit this in the morning.”

“I wouldn't be good company for Gabby tonight, Mom. She would want me to stay with you, and in truth I would never be able to be completely there for her until this was resolved anyway.” Reese knew that now. The emotion churning around in his gut was gnawing at his happiness, bringing up old feelings of anger. He and his mother needed to meet this head-on. Together. “Now let's lock up and I'll take you home or you can stay upstairs at my place if you prefer. The choice is yours, but I'm not letting you out of my sight. I don't want him to show up on your doorstep and me not be there.”

She sighed. “You're a stubborn young man.”

“I'm a Marino. I come by it naturally.”

She finally smiled. “I'll lock the front door and sleep on your sofa.”

“You'll sleep in my bed and I'll take the sofa,” he insisted. He was about to stand up when the front door opened.

And his father walked in.

Reese heard his mother's audible intake of breath and glanced her way. She'd gone white as a slice of provolone. Seeing the stark emotion on his mother's face had Reese rising to his feet. He wasn't a kid; he was an adult, and his father was going to have to face him man-to-man.

Reese had perfected the dark scowl during his rebellious years, and he gave one to his father now. But to his credit, Mike Parker's stride never faltered as he walked forward. Reese felt a tremble in his hands and balled them into fists at his side. His mother remained sitting, most likely because her legs felt as weak and unsteady as Reese's did. Not that he'd let him see one little bit of this emotion or a shred of weakness. Reese lifted his chin and waited for Mike Parker to speak.

“Hello, Reese, Tessa,” Mike said in a soft but steady voice.

“Mike . . . ,” Tessa responded, but Reese remained stony and silent. How was he supposed to address the man, anyway? The term
father
hardly fit. He wore khaki slacks and a light blue golf shirt so different from his dark blue mechanic's uniform that remained in Reese's memory. His sandy brown hair was neatly trimmed but threaded with silver. He was a tall man, but Reese had him by a good three inches and he was glad that his father had to look up at him. Fine lines around his eyes showed the passing years, and a thin scar that Reese didn't remember sliced across his chin, but he looked fit and strong.

But the twinkle, the ever-present amusement in his light blue eyes, was absent, replaced by wariness, sadness. The father Reese remembered had once been a teasing, funny, happy man, but there wasn't even a trace of that personality now. Reese felt a stab of something akin to sympathy, but he steeled his spine, refusing to feel anything but resentment and disdain.

Mike stood there for a long awkward moment and then cleared his throat as if trying to find his voice again. “I had this whole speech ready, but now I'm having trouble remembering where to begin,” he admitted gruffly.

“Why you left us would be an excellent place to start,” Reese suggested tightly.

He closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath. “Uh, mind if I sit down?”

Reese did, but his mother gestured toward a chair. “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked in a not quite steady voice.

“Water, maybe? Please?” Mike replied, but when his mother made a move to stand up, Reese waved her off, not wanting her to have to walk on unsteady legs. Taking angry strides, he went to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, barely resisting the urge to hurl the bottle at him. Instead, he put it on the table with more force than necessary.

“Thank you,” Mike said, and unscrewed the cap.

Reese handed a bottle to his mother as well and then sat down, crossed his arms over his chest, and waited.

Mike took a swig from the bottle and then cleared his throat once more. “First let me say that I'm sorry. I am deeply, regrettably sorry from the bottom of my heart. I let down the two people in the world that I love the most.”

Reese heard his mother's shaky intake of breath but somehow remained silent when he wanted to yell and curse, unleash all of the pent-up anger.

“What started out innocently as my Wednesday night poker game with my friends turned into a gambling habit that got out of hand.” He frowned and inhaled a deep breath. “We didn't play for much, but I started winning and suddenly I was putting a couple, three hundred dollars into our savings every month. Then I got the harebrained idea that I needed to head to the gambling boats once or twice a month since I had convinced myself I was a good poker player. And I kept winning. Encouraged, I gambled more . . . and then more, getting into betting on sports. Soon, I'd started piling up enough money that we were going to be able to build our house sooner. I let Fred know that I wanted to buy the garage as soon as he was ready to retire. He'd already promised I'd get first shot at it, anyway.” He paused and closed his eyes. “And then my luck took a bad turn. I hit a losing streak that cleaned out our savings. Desperate, I borrowed money from the wrong people thinking I'd hit it big and make everything right. But I didn't. When I couldn't pay back the loan I was beaten within an inch of my life,” he said flatly.

Tessa inhaled sharply, put a hand on her mouth. “Were you in the hospital? Why wasn't I called?”

“Fred took me to his fishing camp. I recovered there. Tessa, they . . .” He paused again and swallowed hard. “. . . threatened that they'd . . . they'd hurt you. I was terrified. Fred helped me out and I eventually paid them off, but I wasn't about to put you and Reese in danger and so I left. I was so ashamed and I was determined not to return until I could replace the money I'd lost and pay Fred back. I made him swear that he wouldn't tell you what happened.”

“And so you think you can waltz back here and pick up where you left off?” Reese asked harshly. “After ten years of no explanation, almost no contact?”

“No. Reese, I never expected for it to take so long. I worked endless hours, lived as cheaply as I could, scrimping, saving, and then started investing rather than gambling. It worked until the recession hit and I lost nearly all I'd gained and had to basically begin again.”

Tessa finally spoke up. “But why didn't you just come home? Explain? We were a family. We would have gotten through this together. You should have just come home. Explained everything.”

“I thought I'd already lost both of you and . . . and I couldn't face that or face you. I'd let down my wife and son in every way possible. I was deeply ashamed. But I thought if I'd become successful, wealthy, then I'd have something to offer besides an apology.”

“And so now you own Fred's Garage?” Tessa asked softly. “And a house?”

“On the ridge overlooking the river where we planned our dream home,” he said. “I bought up property in Cricket Creek when the value plummeted. I made some good investments, including the old trailer park.”

“Tristan McMillan and his mother are developing it into single-family homes,” Tessa said.

“They bought it from me . . . my company.”

Reese blinked at him. “And you think this makes everything right? We didn't need money! We needed you. Or at least the man I once loved and respected.”

He shook his head. “No . . . no. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but you deserve an apology. And anything else you need.”

“I don't want a damned dime from you. You can't buy back what you lost,” Reese told him.

“I know that. I don't expect anything. I don't deserve anything. I wouldn't blame you if you turned your back on me for the rest of your life. I didn't mean for one year to blend into the next and the next. Fred, bless that man, kept me informed about you as much as he could.”

“So Fred told you about Tony and Reese opening the pizza parlor?”

He nodded. “I sold this land to Mitch Monroe about three years ago. It was just a rocky hillside at the time and I bought for practically nothing.”

“Since when did you know anything about real estate?” Reese demanded.

“I read, studied,
everything
I could get my hands on about investing and making money. I'd been investing in Cricket Creek . . . I suppose, to stay close to you.”

Reese looked at him, still trying to get a handle on his emotions and wrap his brain around the fact that his father was sitting just a few feet away from him. His heart thudded. His stomach twisted. He couldn't even imagine what his mother must be feeling.

“Of course, Tessa, we're still . . . married, so—”

“I don't care about money either, Mike,” she interrupted. In fact, the mere mention of it seemed to give her strength. “I was content to save our pennies until we could afford our dream house, and if that never happened I was happy in the trailer park. I had all I ever needed.”

“I wanted more for you and Reese. . . .”

She nodded and then surprised Reese when she stood up. “I appreciate you coming and finally giving us the explanation we've been wondering about for ten years. Now if you'll excuse me, we were just closing up for the night.” She gave him a level look, then turned her back and walked toward the kitchen.

Wow. Reese's mother was stronger than he gave her credit for. And he needed to remember that.

When Mike took a step toward her as if to give her a hug, Reese shook his head. “Don't. You don't have that right.”

“No, I guess I don't.” Mike nodded slowly.

“You put her through hell. After you disappeared I started to get into trouble. Mom couldn't handle me and sent me to live with Uncle Tony even though it about killed her to send me away. He straightened me out and was a father to me. More of a father than you became. That's why I go by Reese Marino now.”

His father blanched, visibly shaken. “I'm so sorry. If only—”