Right now. The words stood between them.
She watched him carefully for a telltale sign that he was lying, but he continued looking at her with a straight expression on his face. Right now was a start, she supposed.
“I’ve got a request,” he said.
“What?” she asked suspiciously.
“We have a date once a week.”
“A date?”
“Yeah. Once a week, you and me spend time together alone. Like go out to dinner. Or rent a movie and stay home and watch it together. Alone.”
“What about the kids?”
“We’ll find a babysitter.”
She searched for the problem or hidden agenda and came up empty. “Okay.”
“And you gotta wear sexy underwear every day.”
She half rose out of her chair. “What?”
Dusty grinned. “I don’t have to see it if you don’t want. But I like imagining you wearing lacy things under your clothes.” He glanced at her from under his lashes. “I always have.”
Heat spiked through her as she held on to her chair with both hands. How was she supposed to respond to a request like that?
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped. “I don’t have any sexy underwear. I’ll be wearing a nursing bra in a few months, for Pete’s sake.”
Dusty made a low humming sound as his gaze flicked over her breasts. A blush burned a path right up into her hairline.
“Forget it. All of it. Go home. Now.” She pointed a shaky finger at the door.
He caught her finger, kissed the tip and laughed. “Come on, you’re tougher than that. What else is on your wish list?”
If only he knew how vulnerable she was when it came to him. She didn’t feel nearly as tough as she needed to be. “My wish list.” She massaged her temple. “I’d love to have a few minutes every day to myself.”
“Like when you come home from work?”
“Exactly. I’d love to be able to sit down and do nothing for say, fifteen minutes. Just...sit.” She leaned forward. “What do you want?”
“I don’t know.” He looked down at the table. “I know this probably sounds corny, but I guess I want you to be happy. I know our situation isn’t ideal, but I assume from the way you’re talking you want to keep the baby. Who knows? Maybe we’ll surprise each other.”
He sounded so sad. Not at all like the Dusty she knew. She looked away and stuffed her knuckles in her mouth, the urge to cry overwhelming. She was all messed up in her head and her heart, but she’d never intended to hurt Dusty.
“I want you to know I’m very fond of you, Dusty.”
He patted her hand and took it into his. “I care about you, too. We’re going to be all right, Teressa.”
She blinked back tears. “I hope so.” She leaned across the table and kissed him. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up as just another in the long line of broken hearts Dusty had left behind him.
DUSTY SCRUBBED AWAY the residue of a hard day’s work. It was an unseasonably warm day for November, and he’d overdressed, anticipating a biting north wind. Instead, he’d spent the day sweating and stripping away one layer of clothing after another. Not much he could do about his underwear, though. His deck hands, Josh and Andy, had teased him about his red long johns.
He and Teressa had managed to keep the news about her pregnancy a semisecret for two days now. Semi because his family knew about it, but Teressa had begged for a few more days before she broke the news to her mother.
Mrs. Wilder was a gnarly person to handle. He didn’t know exactly what her problem was, other than she looked as if she had a broom handle stuck up her... Hell, he had to stop thinking like an adolescent, especially about the grandmother of his child. But there was no denying she was a bitter woman. He didn’t remember her being uptight when he was a kid, but kids saw the world differently than adults.
For the past two nights he’d worked hard emptying his house of anything that absolutely didn’t need to be there. It looked empty and rough at the moment, but slap down some new flooring and a fresh coat of paint on the walls and things would start to come together. That’s what he kept telling himself. Where he’d find the time to accomplish all that, he had no idea. Because regardless of what Teressa said about how she was fine where she was, eventually she was going to need a bigger place, and houses didn’t come up for sale all that often in Collina. Plus now that he’d started working on his house, he was getting into the renovations in a big way.
As soon as he ate, he planned to head over to Teressa’s to nail down a time that they could go to Lancaster together to buy some paint. His bank account already had a huge dent in it, because Cal had purchased a bunch of building and plumbing supplies. Good thing Dusty had a solid line of credit, and that it was one of the better fishing seasons. If he was careful, he might almost pull this off. Although Teressa had been pretty clear on not moving in with him, the fact was her place would be too small once the baby came, and he thought he should at least offer her the option of moving in with him. He gulped for air. It was the right thing to do. No matter how many times he repeated that thought to himself, it didn’t get any easier to swallow.
Dusty heard a knock on the door as he stepped out of the shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist and stuck his head out into the hallway that led to the kitchen. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“No hurry, son. You’ve done a lot of work the past few days.”
His father, Pops. The man he most admired in the whole world. Cal had given Pops the lowdown, and Dusty had talked to him briefly on the phone, but he hadn’t heard from his father since. He grabbed a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt, pulled them on and ran a hand through his wet hair as he hurried down the hallway.
“There you are.” Pops eyed him. “Good day on the water?”
“Great. You should come out with me before the weather changes.” His father had fished for years before he sold Dusty the boat and his quota for lobster. More and more these days, quotas were going to outsiders and not always by choice. Dusty considered himself lucky to be able to buy his father’s business, when not so many years ago, it had been a given that a son, not a stranger, would take over the business.
Pops smiled. “Can’t say I haven’t thought of going.”
Pops took his time studying the carnage he and Adam and Cal had wrought the past two nights. The floors were stripped down to the subfloor and the icky wallpaper in the living room—did people really choose to have roses on their walls?—had been pulled off in strips. His house was an open-concept with the kitchen and dining room one big room and the living room opening off both. The three bedrooms and the bathroom were clustered at the other end of the house. They hadn’t touched those yet.
“You’ve got a lot of work in front of you.”
“Yeah.” He sank onto an arm of his black leather couch, the sum of what he hoped to accomplish weighing down on him.
Pops came over and put his hand on Dusty’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Dusty. I know neither you nor Teressa are ready to live together yet, but I think it was important to let her know she can move here if she wants to. It would be a big adjustment for you, and it couldn’t have been easy to offer her your home.”
They both knew that was the understatement of the year. “I can’t believe I’m going to be a dad.”
Pops’s face lit up. “Can’t say I’m disappointed.