For the Love of Pete Read online

Page 16


  “Why would you lose them?”

  “It could happen,” Jo insisted. It was something she knew only too well.

  “Do you want me to have the guys take Pete out and have the honorable intentions talk?”

  The very idea filled Jo with horror. “Absolutely not.”

  “It’s one way to get answers,” Ashley reminded her.

  “I think I’ll use my own technique, thank you very much.”

  “You have a technique?”

  “Well, no,” she admitted. “Unless you count leaving it up to fate.”

  “Normally I’d be the first to tell you to forget that and take charge of your own future,” Ashley said.

  “But?”

  “I’d have to say destiny’s done all right by the rest of us, wouldn’t you?”

  Jo chuckled. “You have a point. Maybe I will just trust in fate.”

  “You might want to toss in some mind-boggling sex to seal the deal,” Ashley suggested tartly. “Worked for me.”

  “I’m sure Pete would appreciate that technique,” Jo agreed. “I’ll give it some thought.”

  “Just be happy,” Ashley said. “If you think that man can make you happy, then fight like heck to keep him.”

  Ashley’s words continued to ring in Jo’s head long after she’d hung up. That was the big difference between seven years ago and now. Back then, she hadn’t known how to fight for her man, hadn’t even known until too late that she needed to. Now, though, she was all grown up and stronger than she’d realized. This time she would fight with everything in her to hold on to the happiness she’d found once again with Pete.

  And heaven help anyone who got in her way.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was barely seven in the morning when Jo’s phone rang. Sure that it would be Pete, she already had a smile on her face as she answered. When she heard Davey’s voice, her smile spread even wider.

  “Well, good morning,” she said, instantly cheerful despite the early hour. “How are you?”

  “I’m great,” he said, his voice brimming with exuberance. “I wanted to call you before, but Dad said it was too early and that we had to wait till at least seven, so we wouldn’t wake you. I know it’s not quite seven, but I couldn’t wait anymore. So, did we? Wake you up, I mean?”

  Jo laughed. “No. I was awake.”

  “See, Dad? I told you it wouldn’t be too early,” Davey called out triumphantly to his father.

  Jo couldn’t hear Pete’s mumbled response, but grinned as she imagined his side of the exchange. She could practically see the tolerant amusement on his face.

  “Dad says to ask you if you want to go have waffles with us,” Davey said. “He can’t make waffles, ’cause you need some kind of iron thing, which is dumb, if you ask me, ’cause waffles aren’t smooth.”

  Jo laughed. “It is dumb, now that you mention it. Are waffles a favorite of yours?”

  “They’re the best,” Davey confirmed. “Even better than pancakes, ’cause there are all those little places for the syrup to go. So, will you come? Dad says we can come get you.”

  “How soon?”

  He relayed her question at his father, then said, “He says twenty minutes. Can you be ready then?”

  “I’ll be ready,” Jo promised.

  “With your coat on and everything?” Davey asked worriedly. “I’m starving.”

  “I’ll even be waiting outside,” she assured him. “We definitely can’t have you starving.”

  “Okay. Bye,” he said, then put the phone down with a clatter.

  Jo stared at the receiver, a smile on her lips, then finally hung up and raced to put on a little makeup and do something with her hair before her allotted time was up.

  She was outside in the driveway when Pete turned in. He frowned at her as she got into the truck.

  “Why are you standing outside?” he scolded. “It’s freezing. You should have waited till we pulled in before coming out.”

  She winked at Davey. “I promised not to hold things up.”

  Pete turned to the backseat and frowned at his son. “You don’t make girls stand around in the cold for your convenience,” he chided.

  “Are we gonna waste time while you tell me another one of those things about keeping girls happy?” Davey asked plaintively. “It’s going to be years and years before I need to know that stuff.”

  Pete regarded him with resignation. “Have you gotten the message?”

  “Yes,” Davey said at once. “Can we please go now?”

  “Yes, please,” Jo added. “I’m starving, too.”

  Pete laughed. “Something tells me this breakfast is going to cost me a fortune. Hope I have enough cash.”

  “I have my allowance,” Davey said. “I can pay for my own.”

  “How about mine?” Pete retorted. “Can you pay for mine, too?”

  Davey immediately reached in his pocket and brought out a fistful of dollars and some change. He shoved it in Jo’s direction. “Is this enough?”

  She solemnly counted out his four dollars and sixty-seven cents, then shook her head. “Not quite,” she told him. “But don’t worry. I’ve got it covered.”

  “Girls don’t pay,” he responded at once. “Right, Dad?”

  “That’s right,” Pete confirmed.

  “It’s okay for girls to pay for things some of the time,” Jo corrected. “But it’s always nice when the guys offer.”

  Davey regarded her with confusion. “How am I supposed to know when it’s okay?”

  Jo laughed at his perplexed expression. “Sweetie, it is not something you need to worry about for at least ten years or so.”

  “I don’t think I’m ever gonna need it,” Davey said. “It’s probably easier just to stay away from girls.”

  “Easier, maybe,” his dad said, clearly amused. “But not nearly as much fun. You’ll see.”

  “I doubt it,” Davey said with blatant skepticism as Pete pulled into a parking spot in front of the café in town.

  When the three of them walked through the door, a half-dozen curious glances were directed their way. People spoke to Pete and grinned at Davey, but faltered a bit when they came to Jo. She was relieved when they were finally seated in a booth toward the back. She hadn’t stopped to think about how awkward this might turn out to be. Naturally, most people here had known Kelsey. Many of them might have a vague recollection of Jo, but after seven years they obviously didn’t recognize her as the young girl who’d spent an entire summer coming in here with Pete.

  At least none picked up on the connection until the waitress came to take their order. She’d worked here for years and took one look at Jo and beamed. “Jo D’Angelo, if you aren’t a sight for sore eyes. It’s been a long time, girl. I see your sisters in here all the time these days, but you’ve been keeping yourself scarce. Heard you were with them once, but I missed you. Glad you’re finally back, though I can’t see that your taste in men has improved much over the years.” She grinned at Pete when she said it.

  Jo laughed. “Hello, Gloria. I just came down recently to stay at Rose Cottage for a bit.”

  The waitress immediately looked disappointed. “You’re not moving here?”

  “I haven’t decided yet,” Jo said, ignoring Pete’s stunned expression.

  After the woman had gone to place their order, Pete looked at Jo. “What did that mean? I thought you’d pretty much decided to stick around.”

  She used his obvious dismay to sneak in another play for his house. “Maybe if I had the perfect house…” she said and let her voice trail off.

  He shook his head. “Don’t you pull that on me,” he scolded. “Don’t make me responsible for your going or staying.”

  Jo simply stared at him, letting the words sink in. Even though they’d been spoken lightly, she doubted he realized how telling they were. It was a warning, in fact, one she would do well not to ignore. If she stayed here, it had to be all about her and what she wanted, not about what might o
r might not happen with Pete. She’d very nearly forgotten that in the warm glow of being with him—and with Davey—these past couple of days. Her spirits, so high when she’d left Rose Cottage, took a nosedive.

  When the waffles came, they might just as well have been sawdust. Even though Pete was watching her with a worried look, she barely managed to choke down more than a few bites. Even Davey seemed to notice that something was wrong. He fell silent and concentrated on his breakfast, finishing his own waffle in record time.

  “Can I go outside?” he begged his father.

  Before Pete could reply, Jo said, “If your dad’s not finished, I’ll come with you.”

  “He can go by himself,” Pete countered. “I think we should talk.”

  “Not here and not now,” she said just as firmly, already scooting out of the booth and pulling on her jacket.

  “But you didn’t eat. You said you love waffles and that you were as hungry as me,” Davey said. “Did you get sick?”

  “No,” she assured him. At least not the way he meant. She held out her hand. “Maybe we can walk to the park and build a snowman. What do you say, Davey?”

  His concern for her mood vanished at once. “Cool. Is it okay, Dad?”

  Pete looked as if he wanted to argue, but he finally relented. “I’ll meet you there in a few minutes,” he said, his voice tight.

  On the way to the park, Jo was grateful for Davey’s nonstop chatter. And once they were there, she forced herself to concentrate on helping him build a snowman. Since the temperature had risen slightly once the sun came out, the snow was melting fast now. The poor snowman wasn’t nearly as plump as he should have been. He looked about as defeated and sad as she felt. Not even the curved stick Davey found to use as a mouth could perk him up. The makeshift smile looked forced.

  How had things turned upside down in less than twenty-four hours? Jo wondered. This time yesterday, she’d been filled with joy and hope. Now it was as if she’d run headlong into reality, all because of a few careless words that Pete had spoken, probably half in jest.

  While Davey scrambled through the park looking for more sticks to create arms and something to use for eyes and a nose, Jo sat on a nearby bench and watched. She released a sigh when Pete sat down next to her, his expression troubled.

  “Mind telling me what happened back there?” he asked quietly. “One minute everything was fine and you had a smile on your face, the next you looked as if you’d caught me kicking your dog.”

  She could have lied and pretended that nothing had happened, but he would never buy it, not after she’d all but walked out on him. She might as well admit to the truth.

  “You said something that reminded me that all this is just temporary.”

  He stared at her blankly. “You were the one who said you were only here for a while, not me. What did I say?”

  “That you couldn’t be responsible for my decision to stay or go.” She met his shocked gaze. “And you were right. It has to be about me. All of this…” She waved a hand to encompass him and Davey. “It’s not mine.”

  “I was just teasing you about the house,” Pete said, clearly contrite. “I thought you knew that.”

  “I know that’s what you intended,” she agreed. “But there was an underlying truth that I can’t ignore.”

  “Underlying truth,” he repeated as if it were a foreign concept. “I only say what I mean, Jo. There was no underlying truth or undercurrent or hidden meaning. That’s a female thing.”

  She shot a sharp look at him. “You really don’t want to go there.”

  “I just meant that you can count on whatever I say. I don’t have hidden agendas.”

  She gave him a sad look. “I used to believe that. Now I know that I have to listen to what you don’t say as much as what you do.”

  “And you got all this from some stupid comment I made as a joke?” he asked, clearly exasperated.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, listen to this, then,” he said heatedly, grasping her shoulders and pulling her close, then claiming her mouth with a ferocity that sucked the breath right out of her lungs.

  Only after what seemed like an eternity did the kiss gentle before ending on a sigh. His. Maybe hers.

  He gazed deep into her eyes. “Did you hear what I was saying then?”

  Shaken, she nodded. She hadn’t needed words to get that particular message.

  “What? Say it, so I can be sure we’re on the same page about that much at least.”

  “That you want me.”

  He shoved a hand through his hair. “And that’s all?” he asked with evident frustration. “You just felt the wanting?”

  She nodded.

  “Not the love?”

  Oh, how she wanted to believe in the love, but she couldn’t let herself. “No,” she said softly. “Not the love.”

  Pete regarded her wearily. “Then, darlin’, I think you might want to consider the possibility that you’re tone-deaf, if all you can hear is what might tear us apart, instead of the one thing that will keep us together.”

  He stood up, called to Davey, then gave her another of those weary looks. “I’ll take you home now. Give you some time to think.”

  Jo nodded. “That’s probably best,” she said, though being home alone with her thoughts was the last thing she really wanted.

  When Davey came up, he studied them both worriedly. “Are you guys fighting?”

  Jo forced a smile. “No.”

  “Yes,” Pete said, then ruffled his son’s hair. “But we’ll settle it. That’s a promise.”

  “I hope so,” Davey said, his gaze on Jo. “’Cause I want you to spend time with me and Dad next time I come.”

  “If I’m here, it’s a date,” Jo promised.

  But if she had even half a grain of sense left in her head, she’d make sure to be long gone.

  For the first time in the two years that he and his son had been separated, Pete regretted the boy’s presence. He wanted to settle this thing with Jo before it got all blown out of proportion and she did something they’d both regret. But he knew he simply had to backburner that conversation until he got back from Richmond on Monday. It made the rest of Sunday and the trip down to Kelsey’s drag out like water torture.

  They were halfway down there when Davey announced, “Dad, I’ve been thinking.”

  “About?”

  “Jo.”

  He glanced over at his son. “Oh?”

  “I think she’s mad at us.”

  “Not us, kiddo. Me.”

  “How come?”

  “I’m not entirely sure, but I’ll straighten it out.”

  “And she’ll be there when I come back?”

  “Yes,” Pete said. She would be there, no matter what he had to do to guarantee it. “You really liked her, didn’t you?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What did you like about her?” he asked curiously. Pete knew what he loved—her strength, her humor, her gentleness—but those weren’t the things that would appeal to a six-year-old.

  Davey’s expression turned thoughtful. “Well, she’s pretty and all that, but I liked it best that she didn’t care about getting all messed up. She played with me and just had fun. Mom’s always worried about her hair and stuff.”

  Pete sighed. He didn’t want Davey to start making this kind of comparison. “There’s nothing wrong with your mom wanting to look nice.”

  “I know,” Davey replied. “But there’s nothing wrong with having fun, either.”

  “No,” Pete agreed. “No, there’s not.”

  He was still thinking about that when he got back home that night. Jo had brought fun back into both their lives. He wasn’t going to let that go without a fight, especially not over some silly argument he didn’t entirely understand. Underlying truths be damned, he thought viciously. He intended to talk to her in plain English until she got how much he loved her.

  But before he could call her, he noticed that the answering machine l
ight was blinking like crazy. He pressed the button for messages as he took off his jacket.

  “We need to talk,” Kelsey announced, her tone petulant. “Who is this woman that Davey was going on and on about? Call me the minute you get in.”

  Pete sighed. He’d anticipated this. Kelsey hated him interfering in her social life, but she had no such qualms about involving herself in his. And it went without saying that Davey would inadvertently get her all riled up with his glowing remarks about the new woman in Pete’s life.

  Up till now, there hadn’t been many opportunities for her to ask questions. The few women he’d dated since the divorce had merely been passing through. Because of that, he’d kept them away from his son. He hadn’t wanted Davey to go through some perpetual cycle of attachment and loss the way he had as a boy.

  He’d broken that rule with Jo. Though she was still cautious with him—more than cautious, if yesterday was anything to go by—he knew she was in his life to stay. He wanted her and his son to get to know each other and to get along.

  Until this moment, listening to his ex-wife’s tone, he’d been ecstatic at how well the weekend had gone. Jo and Davey had taken to each other at once. It had never occurred to Pete to tell Davey not to mention Jo to his mother. Even if it had, he wouldn’t have done it. Teaching a kid to keep secrets from one parent or another just to keep the peace was flat-out wrong.

  Based on the six messages that were more of the same and because he knew his ex-wife would only keep calling until she got the answers she wanted, he grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge and called her back.

  “What’s up?” he asked, as if she hadn’t already made that plain in her message.

  “Who’s Jo?”

  “A friend.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t going to parade your women in front of Davey.”

  He bit back a sharp retort about her parade of men through their son’s life. “For starters, I don’t have a lot of women in my life, so there’s never going to be a parade.”

  She hesitated, then asked, “What’s different about this one?”

 

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