Falling For Nick (2 page)

She fussed with Clea's skirt, straightening the line of the creamy white satin. "With a sleeveless dress like this you need gloves, elegant satin gloves that come above your elbow." Vivian gave Clea's arm a pat.

Clea forced a smile. She willed herself to be happy, to catch her mother's enthusiasm for the wedding. She loved Robert. They were going to have a wonderful life together. Nick's return wouldn't change things. What worried her was Robert's reaction to the news. He hated Nick and time hadn't eased Robert's anger.

For the first time in her life, she wished she'd listened to her mother when she'd suggested Clea have Nick sign away his parental rights, but she'd been so young, her heart broken. A part of her still ached at Nick's betrayal of the young love she'd felt for him. Seeing him yesterday had opened the wound in her soul; a wound she thought had healed years ago.

"What do you think about the length of the gown?" her mother asked, breaking into Clea's thoughts.

Clea glanced down at the hemline. "It's fine."

Her mother frowned, the action stealing some of her beauty. "Darling, you could be more excited about the dress. It's costing me a fortune."

"I do love the dress. You know I'm excited for the wedding." Clea ran her hand over the satin skirt. "The hemline is just right."

"Now there's the Clea I know," Vivian said with a smile. "Having two months to plan this wedding is ludicrous. I'm not a miracle worker."

"No one expects you to be," Clea replied. "You and Robert wanted a big wedding. I wanted to elope, remember?" Clea tugged at the bodice of the gown. "I would've been happy in a simple off the rack dress."

"Don't insult me, Clea. I've waited my entire life for this wedding. Elizabeth." Vivian turned toward the shopkeeper. "Will you be able to handle the tiaras and gloves?"

"Of course." Elizabeth Spencer, the owner of Port Bliss's one and only clothing store, rushed forward.

"The gown fits like it was made for you," Elizabeth said. She used a special buttonhook to unfasten the tiny satin covered buttons that ran down the back of the gown.

"Thank you." Clea lifted her hair out of the way, allowing the shopkeeper better access to the buttons. In a matter of minutes Clea stepped out of the pool of satin. While Elizabeth saw to the dress, Clea pulled on her dark denim jeans and white T-shirt. Unlike her mother, clothes weren't important to her - comfort came first. Her one concession to style was her Anne Klein black leather boots.

When she rejoined her mother, Vivian was at the counter with Elizabeth, giving the woman instructions on how many tiaras they wanted to see, and the different styles of gloves.

"Thanks for all your help, Elizabeth." Clea smiled. "You've done a wonderful job."

"It's my pleasure, dear." Elizabeth returned Clea's smile. "I'm happy to help. I know this can't be an easy time for you with Nick Lombard back in town."

"What!" Vivian gasped, her eyebrows shooting up somewhere near her hairline. "Nick's here? In Port Bliss?"

Elizabeth glanced between mother and daughter. "I heard over at the café that he came home to attend Maude's funeral." She looked at Clea. "I'm sorry, Clea. I thought you knew. I just assumed with him being John's father…"

"I did know," Clea admitted. "I saw him yesterday."

"Clea! Why in heaven's name didn't you say something?" Vivian took her daughter's arm and propelled her toward the door. "Thank you for everything, Elizabeth."

"You're welcome." Elizabeth came around the counter, her forehead wrinkled with concern. She followed them to the door. "And again, I'm awfully sorry if I've upset you, Vivian."

"It's not your fault." Vivian gave Clea a stern look. "I appreciate the information. God knows when my daughter was going to tell me."

"Well, good afternoon then." Elizabeth held the door open.

When the shop door shut behind them, Vivian said, "How dare you keep news like this from me? Do you know how embarrassed I am? Does everyone in town know?" She led Clea down the sidewalk.

Clea bristled. She pulled her arm from Vivian's grasp. "I needed time to digest the news myself. I was going to tell you right after the fitting. I knew you'd be upset."

"Of course I'm upset." Two bright spots of color highlighted Vivian's cheekbones. "We don't want that man anywhere near your son. He almost ruined your life once. I won't let him do it again. What if he's come back for John?"

Her words awakened Clea's fear for her son. She'd felt a lot of things for Nick over the years - everything from love, to lust, to hate, but she'd never been afraid of him. She'd never expected him to come back to Port Bliss. What had happened between them had been a terrible mistake. She didn't want her son to pay for that mistake.

"Robert isn't going to like this." Vivian zeroed in on Clea. "He does know, doesn't he?"

Clea glanced away. "No, I haven't told him yet. I didn't see him last night. This isn't the kind of news you deliver to your fiancé by phone."

"Oh, for God's sake," her mother snapped. "You need to tell him. He'll protect you this time, Clea. He's a powerful attorney. He has connections. We'll have him draw up papers to keep Nick away from John. Nick Lombard doesn't belong here. He never did."

*   *   *

Clea checked on her son for the tenth time since putting him to bed. She crept to his bedside. The light from the hall gave off just enough illumination to see his small body nestled under his navy bedspread. Unable to help herself, she touched his dark hair. Hair the same color as Nick's. Both had black hair and blue eyes the exact shade of a robin's egg. Both had a dimple in their left cheek and a smile that could melt a woman's heart. From the moment of his birth there'd been no denying that Nick was the father of her child, as much as her parents had hoped otherwise. In those days she'd been an idealist, full of hope that Nick would want her and John, that one day they'd be a family, but as the years passed, her hope had faded, until nothing remained but her determination to raise her son alone.

Clea bent down and kissed John's soft cheek. "Sleep well, my angel," she whispered. John might have been an accident, but she'd never regretted his birth, not once. She'd fallen in love with him on sight. She couldn't bear to be parted from

him - ever. Satisfied he was safe, she left his room, closing the door.

Since the funeral she'd been on edge, waiting for Nick to show up, demanding to see John. So far, he hadn't contacted her, and his silence unnerved her. He'd told her once that he didn't want to be a part of John's life, yet Nick had come back to Port Bliss. Had he come back for John? He'd said he wanted to meet with her. With each hour that passed Clea's anxiety mushroomed.

The minute Robert had heard the news of Nick's return, courtesy of Vivian, he'd rushed right over to comfort Clea, and she had to admit his presence tonight had done some good. He'd assured her that he would do everything in his power to protect John from Nick.

"Is he sleeping?" Robert asked when she joined him in the living room.

"Yes."

Robert sat on her black leather sofa, a crystal tumbler of Glenlivet in his hand. He usually didn't drink, but tonight he'd asked Clea to pour him a Scotch.

Nick's return had upset him more than he let on. Robert was so different from Nick, and it was more than that they were from different parts of town.

Clea couldn't help but compare the two men. Dressed in khakis, a crisp white shirt, and expensive brown leather shoes, Robert looked every inch an up-and-coming attorney, right down to his perfectly styled blond hair and professionally manicured nails. Clean-shaven, he oozed respectability and charm. The right mix for his profession.

Where Robert was smooth, Nick was rough. He was all black leather and denim. She'd been attracted to him since she was seventeen, and eleven years later, she still felt the physical pull of that attraction. Only now she was older and wiser. She wouldn't repeat history. This time she had to think with her head, not her hormones.

"I wish you'd brought John to my place," Robert said. "I don't want to leave you two here alone tonight." He patted the seat next to him. "Sit down. Have a drink. It will help you relax."

"I don't want a drink." Clea sank down on the sofa. The leather felt cool through her clothes. A fire burned in the gas fireplace, but its cheery glow couldn't chase away the dread she felt. "You know I don't want to upset John. He has school tomorrow. I want to keep his routine normal." Robert stretched his arm across the back of the sofa and she settled against him. "You could stay here, Boomer."

Robert grimaced. "Clea, I've asked you a thousand times not to use that silly nickname anymore. No credible adult goes by the name Boomer. And I can't stay. I wish I could, but I have a nine a.m. meeting with a client. All my notes are at my place." He took a sip of his drink. "Maybe you should think about staying with your mother until this all blows over."

"I like living here in town above The Coffee House. It's convenient for me. John's bus stop is out front. I love being near the canal." She smiled. "Besides, how many people do you know who are lucky enough to live above their workplace? I have no intention of staying with my mother. We'd drive each other crazy."

Robert swirled the Scotch in his glass. "Why did he have to come back now? I don't want to relive all the ugliness. This town is one big gossip mill."

His words hit her like a fist to the gut. "I'm sorry. I can't keep people from talking. My first priority is John. I can handle Nick. You understand that, don't you?"

Robert stared into his drink. "I just don't want to add fuel to a fire that's nearly burnt out. Hopefully, he's left town already, but if he hasn't I'd like to keep this as quiet as possible."

"Do you really think you can keep Nick a secret?" Clea said, her voice rising with anxiety. "John's paternity aside, you were part of that summer ten years ago. Danny was your brother."

"And he was murdered by the father of your child." Robert set his drink down on the coffee table with enough force to spill some of the Scotch onto the smooth oak. "I've tried to put all that behind me. I know you have too. I'm not about to let a loser like Nick Lombard come back to this town and pull all those terrible memories to the surface."

"How're you going to stop him?" Clea asked. "Nick's paid for his crimes. He's a free man."

"He killed my brother." Robert frowned, his mouth tight.

"In self-defense," Clea reminded him gently.

"So he says," Robert shot back, turning a dark scowl on her. "No gun was ever found to back up Nick's story. And do you really think it was a coincidence that the lakeside robberies stopped when Nick was arrested?"

"I don't know what to think." Clea replayed that night over in her mind as she had done so many times before. All the evidence had been stacked against Nick, yet she'd believed him when he'd claimed Danny's death had been an accident, that he'd knocked Danny to the ground in an attempt to loosen the gun from his hands, a gun that had been pointed at Nick's younger brother, Billy. Danny's head had struck a rock, the blow killing him. Nick had been trying to save his brother's life and instead he'd taken Danny's. When the police investigated, no gun had been found. Clea could understand Robert's hatred, his bitterness. He'd lost his only brother. She'd lost her son's father. That night had changed all of their lives forever.

"Let's elope," Clea suggested, desperate for a solution they could all live with.

Robert shook his head. "How can we elope? My parents' party is this weekend. The wedding is next month. The invitations have gone out. Three hundred guests are coming to us - here, in Port Bliss."

Clea took Robert's hand, threading her fingers with his. "It would be romantic to elope. We could come back and have the reception here, later in the summer."

"No." Robert pulled his hand away and stood. He paced over to the window, then back. "I want to press forward with our plans. I've waited ten years for you to be ready to marry me. I want the entire world to witness our marriage. We'll find a way to keep Nick Lombard out of our lives."