To Be a Dad

If there was a baby.

On top of the kids—and don’t get him started on the other fathers—there was Teressa. He sat on the tailgate of his truck and stared off into space. She was crazy sexy. If they had all these kids and babies and things, they’d never have time for sex again. That just plain sucked.

As for getting married and building a life together? Loveless marriages worked sometimes, didn’t they? His own parents’ marriage may well have been a marriage without love. His mother had died in a car accident while running away with her lover when he was thirteen years old. It had hurt like hell knowing his mom didn’t love him enough to stay, but now, looking at the tragedy, he realized Pops must have suffered the most of all.

If he married Teressa, and she screwed around on him because she didn’t love him, he didn’t think he could handle it. He’d always assumed he’d get married someday, preferably to a sweet woman who was crazy about him and liked having a fisherman for a husband. Teressa didn’t think much of his job or of him, or Collina as far as that went. She’d never stopped dreaming of moving away. He couldn’t imagine living anywhere but Collina and working on the water.

The only thing they had going for them was their friendship. Teressa was a good enough friend that she didn’t mind telling him off when he needed it. Like when Pops had his heart attack and Dusty had unraveled. Teressa pointed out that it wasn’t about him and told him to grow up and think about Pops. Her little speech had been exactly what he’d needed to ground him. She almost always gave him what he seemed to need, whether it was a slap up the side of the head, or a good laugh, or the ear of a good friend.

“Hey, bonehead. This is your mess, not mine. Get the lead out,” Cal called from the doorway of the house as he ambled toward Dusty.

Dusty pushed away from the tailgate. “How do you suppose people have sex if there are all these kids around?”

Cal grinned. “They don’t. Ever again.” He pounded Dusty on the back. “That’s good, considering how easily Teressa gets pregnant. I can see it now, you two and twenty kids.”

“Not funny.”

“Sorry. Tell you what. If you and Teressa do hook up, Anita and I will take your kids for a night here and there.”

His kids. Jesus.

“You okay? You look like you’re going to hurl.”

No, he wasn’t okay. He may never be okay again. What did he think he was doing? There were days when Teressa acted like she didn’t even like him. And there were days when she pissed him off royally.

He’d been waiting half his life to make love to her, and when the opportunity suddenly presented itself a few weeks ago the last thing on his mind had been birth control. If she was pregnant, what did that mean? Would he be expected to marry her and inherit an entire family? Did he even want a family right now? He was so mixed up, he felt as if his head was going to explode.

“You need to talk, Dusty?” Cal looked concerned.

Dusty shook his head. “I can’t think straight. I like Teressa, but she drives me nuts. I even like kids, and her kids are great, but that doesn’t mean I want an instant family.”

Cal frowned. “You’re not going to want to hear this, but I’ve gotta tell you, bro, like is not going to be enough to get you through the rough times. I love Anita, I’d die for her, and still sometimes I can’t breathe and have to get out of the house and away from her. I know this is a lot to take in, and you have my full sympathy, but you and Teressa have to sit down and talk. I think you, not Anita, should be over there holding her hand right now. I tried telling Anita that, but she’s got ideas of her own these days. Why don’t you go?”

“Right now?” What if Teressa wouldn’t let him in the house?

“Tell Anita I could use her help here.”

“You’re probably right. I should be with Teressa.” He remained glued to the spot.

“About time. Good luck, bro. Call later if you need to talk.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Cal.” Dusty climbed into his truck and started the engine and backed out of his yard. He concentrated on the road in front of him, feeling as if he was one step removed from everything around him. No more avoiding the truth. The hour of doom had arrived. Time to pay the piper. Man, he wasn’t going to hurl, was he? For damned sure he made himself sick.

Think of Teressa. Think of what she’s going through. He swallowed the acid in his throat, rolled down the window and sucked in a lungful of cold November air. This was Teressa. They’d known each other forever, and they’d work things out. Everything was going to be all right.

Maybe.

CHAPTER TWO

TEN MINUTES LATER, Dusty stood outside Teressa’s door and watched his breath plume in the frosty air. It was only a week into November and already it felt like winter. The temperature on the water, as always, was at least ten degrees colder than on land. He’d have to dig out his long johns, that is, if he could find anything after his brother finished ripping his house apart.

He was stalling. Hard to pretend otherwise. Although he had mixed feelings about going through that door, no way was he going to leave Teressa to face another pregnancy on her own. Aside from everything else, she was his friend, and she’d had a hard life up ’til now. It wasn’t in him to turn his back on a friend in need. Plus, her getting pregnant was as much his fault as hers. Teressa loved children, and he suspected she’d never consider terminating the pregnancy. Truth be told, the thought of doing such a thing made him feel queasy, but it wasn’t his decision to make.

When he shoved the door open, Anita pivoted around, frowning at the intruder. That was pretty much how he felt, like an intruder.

“Hey.” He stayed by the door, figuring Teressa would fly into the room and kick him out any second.

“You came!” Anita made it sound as if he’d shown up at some kind of social function.

“I thought I should be here.” It came out as one word: IthoughtIshouldbehere.

His sister-in-law studied his face. “I think Teressa will be relieved to see you.”

“You think? Cal says to tell you he’s at my house, and he needs your help.”

His big brother, the tough guy no one could get close to, had fallen head over heels in love with Anita. How had Cal done that? How had he let down his barriers and exposed himself? Anita seemed like a nice person. Dusty was almost certain she loved his brother, but Cal and Anita had had problems lately, and neither one had confided in anyone what those problems were. Which proved, just because you loved someone and got married, there were no guarantees that everything was going to work out.

He trusted Pops and, he supposed, Cal and Sylvie. But Teressa’s moods were too mercurial to make it easy to trust her. Nine times out of ten she came out swinging. The one thing he did trust about Teressa was that she always tried to be fair. Or almost always, at least.

Anita grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair and shrugged into it. “She’s pretty high-strung tonight.”

“I figured.”

Anita tilted her head. “If you don’t mind my asking, are you going to ask her to marry you?”

“I don’t even know if she’s pregnant yet.”

“You realize that she’d probably say no.” She stood with her hand on the door knob.

“I figured.” Had he? Really?

“Maybe you better—”

“Anita? Go, okay? I’ll take it from here.”

Anita came back into the room and surprised him when she rose on tiptoe and kissed his jaw. His unshaven jaw. Christ, he couldn’t even get that right. “You’re a good man, Dusty Carson,” she said.

He swallowed hard. “Thanks.”

“Call Cal later if you need someone to talk to,” she added on her way out the door. She stuck her head back in. “Take your boots off,” she hissed. “You don’t want to upset her.”

Dusty breathed more easily when he heard Anita pull out of the driveway.

Teressa had probably heard the vehicles coming and going, too, so he might as well go and find her. He pulled off his boots and left his jacket on a hook by the door.

Her bedroom was empty, and he kept on going, but hesitated at the kids’ room. Should he check on them? Would he wake them if he opened the door? After a second of listening and hearing nothing, he continued on. So, she was in either the bathroom or her closet of a living room. The bathroom door was closed. He considered knocking, but went with his gut. If he knocked, she could tell him to get lost before he had a chance to talk to her.

When he opened the bathroom door, Teressa was sitting on the toilet, staring at her hands in her lap. A flat plastic stick sat on the edge of the sink. She looked so scared it reminded him of the Halloween when she was twelve, and he and a bunch of guys had hidden in a hedge and jumped out at her. She’d peed her pants right there on the sidewalk in front of everyone. She hadn’t talked to him for a year after that. Hell, no wonder she didn’t trust him. At sixteen, he should have known better.

Dusty squatted down in front of her. “Are you okay?”

“Couldn’t wait for the bad news, huh?”

“So, are you...?” The words stuck in his throat.

“I don’t know. I can’t look.”

Dusty picked up the plastic stick. “This it?”

“Yup.”

“What am I looking for?”

“Two lines.”

“Two lines means you’re pregnant?” His hand shook.

She continued staring at her hands. “That’s the way it works.”

“You’re pregnant.”

Teressa groaned and listed to one side.

Dusty squatted down on his haunches again and slid his hands along her thighs. “It won’t be so bad. We’ll do this together.”

Her head snapped up. “Really? You want to be pregnant for the first trimester or the last?”

Usually, right about now, he made some smart-ass comment and they got into it. He took a breath, counted to ten. “I want to be with you during the whole thing.” He swallowed his panic. “All of it. The pregnancy, the birth and all the years to follow.”

She pushed his hands away and stood in front of the sink. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“Be nice to me. It makes everything so much harder.”

He stood and looked over her shoulder at her reflection in the mirror. “I’m trying to make things better.”

“I don’t deserve better.”

“What are you talking about? You think you got pregnant by yourself? We’re in this together, whether you like it or not.” He rested his hands on her hips and pulled her back into him. “Far as I’m concerned, you deserve the best.”

He nuzzled her neck, inhaling her sweet scent, found her earlobe and nipped it. He could seriously get used to this if they were married.

She stiffened. “What do you think you’re doing? Stop.”

Not exactly the reaction he was looking for. “Why? You can’t get pregnant again. We might as well take advantage of the good parts.”

“So, you’re in this for the sex?” she hissed.

He raised his hands as if she’d pointed a gun at him. “No. You’re...you’re twisting it around.” Right, and that lump in the front of his jeans was just a stick. Log. Whatever. “All I’m saying is...” Shut up, man. “I think you’re a really attractive woman, and no matter what happens in the next year, I’ll still find you attractive.”

She flicked her long red hair over her shoulder, and he watched it sway across her back, remembering how it felt against his chest their one mad night together. He chanced a glimpse in the mirror and caught the shadow of sadness in her eyes. Okay, maybe he was going about this the wrong way. As usual.

He put his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her until she stood in the circle of his arms. “Give me a chance, Teressa. I won’t let you down.”

She closed her eyes and sunk into his embrace. He was always startled by how fragile she felt in his arms. Not that he got to hold her often, but, yeah, in his mind she resembled an amazon warrior. In reality she was a slender woman with too heavy a burden to carry.

She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder and pulled away. “Thanks. I needed a hug.”

“Always glad to be of service.” He watched Teressa’s open expression shut down at his flip answer. Would he ever learn to think before he opened his mouth? He cupped her face before she could move away. “I’m serious. I want to be a part of your life.” Now was probably a good time to mention marriage, but he wasn’t ready to go there yet. Wasn’t sure he ever would be.

“Come on.” He tugged on her hand.

She snatched her hand back. “I’m not going to bed with you, Dusty Carson.”

Great start to a...whatever the word was for what they had. He should give up while he was ahead. Determined to push forward, he took her hand again. “I want to talk to you about...things. Let’s go into the living room.”

“What’s wrong with the bathroom? You got something to say to me, this is as good a place as any.”

“You’re just being contrary.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Come on, Tee. We’ll be more comfortable on the couch.”

She shrugged him off, her lip curling in disdain. “Is this your sad attempt at seducing me? ’Cause in case you haven’t noticed, it’s not working.”

“I’m not trying to seduce you.”

“You yell like that, you’re going to wake the kids up.”

Dusty scrubbed his hands over his face. He should get the hell out while the getting was good. But no way would he leave Teressa to face having another child by herself. He’d do the right thing if it killed him. “Okay. You want to do this here, we’ll do it here. Sit.” He pointed at the toilet.

“What is your problem?” Teressa sat, for the first time looking a little curious.

“Mommy?” A small, worried voice sounded through the door.

Teressa started laughing. “You’re going to want to let Brendon in before he gets hysterical.”

It was a sign. He and Teressa weren’t supposed to take their relationship a step further. If they were, everything would have gone smoothly. Hell, who was he kidding? Nothing had ever gone smoothly between them.

He yanked open the door and glared down at the tiny boy hopping from one foot to the other. “Dusty!” Brendon blinked like he was going to cry. “I gotta pee.”

“Okay.” He stepped into the hallway, but his heart thumped over when he glanced back at Teressa. Her laughter had morphed into tears as she scooped up the pregnancy stick and tossed it into the trash.

“Mommy, are you sad again?” Brendon hugged her leg.

“No, baby. I’m just tired. Good on you for getting up to go to the bathroom.” She sidled past her son. “Dusty will help you, okay? I have to take care of...something.”

Again, Brendon had said. Are you sad again? He knew Teressa struggled with her life as a single mom, but he had no idea how much.

Tears pooled in Brendon’s eyes.

“What’s your problem?” Dusty barked.

“I can’t reach.”

Squatting down, Dusty mentally kicked himself as the kid started crying in earnest. “What do you need, Brendon?” Other than a kind, caring adult.

Brendon gulped back tears. “My potty.”

Potty. Right. He opened the only closet door and grabbed the white plastic potty. “You don’t pee standing up yet?” There was so much he didn’t know about kids. He placed the potty in front of Brendon and backed off to give him some privacy. Nothing turned the tap off faster than another guy watching you take a leak. When he glimpsed back to make sure Brendon was okay, the kid was sitting on his potty, staring up at him.

“Will you teach me to pee standing up at the toilet?”

Dusty folded his arms over his chest. “Now?”

Brendon shook his head from side to side. “Tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

Dusty fidgeted as he waited for Brendon to do his thing. Where had Teressa gone? They hadn’t even had a chance to talk about the baby. Oh, my God. His lungs collapsed, and he gulped for air. He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or shriek with horror. In a few months, he was going to be a dad.

“You done yet?”

“Guess so.” Brendon pulled up his bulky pajama bottoms. The kid was wearing diapers. Why wear diapers if you didn’t need to?

“Okay, see you, bud.”

Brendon’s bottom lip trembled. “Mommy always tucks me in.”

“I knew that. But we’ve got to be quiet, because we don’t want to wake up your sister.”

When he scooped the little boy into his arms, Brendon held himself stiff as a board. He smelled good, though, like little kid and sleep. He laid Brendon in his bed and pulled the covers up to his chin.

“Dusty?” he whispered with his eyes closed, his body still stiff.

“What?”

“Promise.”

“Promise what?”

“You’ll teach me how to pee standing up.”

“If you’re still awake when I get back from fishing.”

He watched Brendon as his face softened into instant sleep. Kids. They were amazing. He didn’t know the first thing about them, though. How did you know if you were being a good dad or not? There had to be some kind of manual on how to bring up a kid. He needed to start reading up on the subject, but the idea that he was actually going to be a dad felt so unreal, as though someone was playing a really bad practical joke on him. He wished he could go to sleep and wake up to find he was still a free man.

But that wasn’t going to happen. He was officially going to have a child of his own. Well, Teressa was going to have it, and the child would be theirs, not just his. He tiptoed out of the bedroom and went in search of the lady in question. He found her in the kitchen, unloading the dishwasher. She didn’t look at him when he walked into the room.

He grabbed Teressa, pulled her into his arms and, before she could say a thing, he kissed her. And kissed her. And kissed her. She tasted so sweet and sexy at the same time. He loved how soft her mouth felt, how good she tasted.

And he liked how she clung to him, as if she needed help to stand up when he finally lifted his mouth from hers.

“No.” Her voice sounded husky, the same way brandy felt as it slipped over his tongue. No to him? To them? To sleeping together?

He kissed her again, brought his hips hard up against her, so she could feel what she did to him. She trembled in his arms. He liked that, too.

“We’re good together, Teressa. We could work with that.”

She leaned into him, her body warm and pliant. “It’s not that simple—”

He brought his mouth down on hers again before she could say anything else. What did he have to lose? He loved kissing her. Couldn’t get enough. Maybe he’d even get lucky and convince her they deserved a chance.

He stiffened at the thought. What was he doing? She’d just given him a legitimate out, but he’d been so...consumed with kissing her, he hadn’t been paying attention. Time to cool things down.

He dropped his arms and stepped back, noticing with satisfaction that her lips were red and swollen. “You’re a great kisser,” she said as she wiped the back of her hand against her mouth.

He wiggled his eyebrows, feeling inordinately pleased by her compliment. “I have other hidden talents.”

She snorted. “I’m well acquainted with your talents.”

“I wouldn’t say you were well acquainted.” A corner of his mouth hitched up. “I’m thinking we could use a little refresher course.”

She put her hand on his chest and pushed him back. “There are children in the house.”

“Right. Kids.” And she was the mother of his child, not one of his here-today-gone-tomorrow dates. Somehow that changed everything. She deserved respect and consideration. She deserved someone a lot better than him.

* * *

TERESSA LEANED AGAINST the counter for support and rubbed her arms, feeling cold and yes, lonely, damn it. There was no doubt she and Dusty were physically compatible. But she’d known that already. She had the opposite problem, actually. It was difficult being around him and not jumping into those heavily muscled arms of his. Dusty had earned his muscles from honest work, just as he’d earned those sexy crinkles at the corners of his eyes from squinting into the sun. Heaving heavy lobster traps was man’s work. She knew because she’d tried working on one of the local boats one summer. She did the job, but that was all she’d done that summer. Work and sleep. She had immense respect for fishermen.

She eased farther away from him, not that there was much room in her tiny kitchen. Tiny kitchen, tiny house and in her parents’ backyard. Her parents meant well, but she was too old for them to be monitoring her every move. Her mother was likely wondering right this minute what Dusty was doing there so late in the evening. Teressa closed her eyes. Wait until she found out. There was a scene she refused to think about until absolutely necessary.

But she had bigger problems to deal with at the moment. First, she had to keep enough distance between her and Dusty so at the very least, she couldn’t smell his scent of clean soap and ocean and wind. She could become addicted to that smell if she let herself.

And second, she needed to save him from his good intentions. Dusty had an active imagination and left to himself, he’d...heaven knows, decide marriage was the answer to their problems? She needed to hang on to the small bit of independence she still had, because she refused to become that poor woman Dusty Carson saved.

She smiled across the kitchen at him. “We’re friends, Dusty. Good friends. Let’s leave it at that.”

The stress lines that bracketed his mouth softened. “I would if I thought that would be okay, but living here isn’t going to work, and you know it. Your mother is going to have a fit when she hears you’re pregnant again,” he said before she could brush off his concern. “And the house is too small. You’re going to have to move somewhere, and I’ve got a house big enough for all of us. It just needs some work. Which I’m doing,” he added in a louder voice when she opened her mouth. “And where else is there to move to in this village? If you and the kids move in with me, everyone’s happy.”

“Everyone? Really?” What about them as a couple? “This isn’t one of your larks, Dusty. If I ever decide to live with someone, it’s going to be because I can’t live without them. For now I’m fine right where I am. I appreciate that you want to ‘fix’ things, but living together will only make matters worse.”

“You mean I’ll make things worse.”

“It’s not easy living with children, because they have to come first. Always. It’s not like you didn’t have a life before this. Have you given any thought to what you’d be giving up by taking us in?”

He looked at the floor. “Sort of. Not really.” He sighed. “Maybe you’re right. But what about you? What do you want to happen?”

She studied the handsome man standing in her kitchen. She’d forgotten that he’d always been the peacekeeper in his family. But now he was considerate, as well. When had that happened?

She sighed. What did she want? How long had it been since someone asked her that question? And Dusty was right. She had to be practical; her family needed somewhere to live.

She still wasn’t certain Dusty was the answer to her problems. As a matter of fact, if she was certain about anything, it was that moving in with him would cause more problems than it would solve. But she should at least show him the courtesy of considering his offer. It couldn’t have been easy for him to come here tonight.

She sat at the table and motioned for him to do the same. “This is just a wish list, okay? I don’t expect anything.”

He nodded.

“I want a house big enough for my kids and me. But if I ever decided to move in with you, yours needs to be fixed up. I’m not being mean,” she rushed to explain, afraid she’d insulted him. “It’s just, your house is kind of...it needs help.”

“Yeah, I got that. And I’m already working on it. But I’m going to need your help. You have to tell me what to do. What colors you want the walls, that kind of thing.”

Unexpectedly, her nerve endings tingled with excitement. She’d lived in her parents’ house before moving a few feet away into their carriage house. She’d never had a place, not even an apartment, to call her own. Not that Dusty’s house would be hers. But she’d have some say in how to decorate her living space for the first time. That could be fun.