When I Found You by Brenda Novak

Four

Lucas woke up at seven. Of course. Natasha groaned when she heard his voice. She wasn’t ready to get up and face the day, but just when she thought she had no other choice—like every other morning since she’d become a single parent—she heard a much deeper voice coming through her bedroom door.

“You can sleep a little longer, Tash. I got Lucas.”

Mack. The man she’d dreamed about all night. She’d almost convinced herself that having him with her the past three days was merely a dream, too.

“It’s okay.” The rasp in her voice forced her to clear her throat so she could speak clearly. “I’ll get up. We have a lot to do.”

“There’s no rush to unpack. You have a whole week before you start work. We’ll be done by then.”

But they needed to return the truck before they incurred yet another charge. And she hated living out of boxes, not knowing where anything was. For her own peace of mind, she had to get organized as soon as possible. That was the only thing that might make her feel as though she’d regained control of her life. “No, Lucas will be hungry,” she said. “I need to get him something to eat.”

“I’m sure I can manage to feed him while you grab a couple more hours.”

She was tired enough to attempt a trade. “If you’ll feed him breakfast, I’ll make us all a nice dinner. Does that sound fair?”

“You don’t have to pay me back for every little thing I do,” he grumbled.

In her mind, she did. She didn’t want to feel indebted to him. That would only undermine her strength and determination where he was concerned, and she needed to maintain her position, remain on guard, now more than ever.

Otherwise, she might wind up making another catastrophic mistake—like allowing herself to get hurt yet again.

Letting her eyelids slide closed, she retreated from the light slanting into her room. She’d get out of bed in fifteen minutes, she told herself.

She could hear Lucas, down in the kitchen. “Can I have some Fruity Pebbles?”

“Fruity Pebbles!” Mack replied, as though her son had suggested eating worms for breakfast. “Why would you ever want to eat those?”

“Because they taste good,” Lucas said.

“They’re fine for wimps, I guess. But you don’t want to be a wimp, do you?”

“No, I want to have big muscles, like you!”

“Then you should eat a better breakfast. How about some oatmeal with bananas?”

“Oatmeal?”her son repeated, clearly not excited by that suggestion.

“With bananas,” Mack reiterated, as if that should change everything. “Surely you like bananas.”

There was a slight pause, as though Lucas was thinking it over. “How many bites do I have to take?” he asked at length.

“Ten, to be exact. You need to take ten big bites a day. Can you count that high?”

To be exact?If she wasn’t so tired, Natasha would’ve chuckled at the bullshit Mack was selling her son. But he was doing it for a good reason, and she was glad that he was taking the job of caring for Lucas so seriously. She knew Luke would be safe in Mack’s hands, and that made it even harder to drag her butt out of bed.

“Of course I can count that high,” Lucas said, slightly affronted that Mack wasn’t more aware of his capabilities. “I’m six. I can read, you know.”

“I had no idea you were so smart,” Mack told him, acting shocked.

“Want me to show you?”

That was the last thing Natasha remembered. She couldn’t say if Mack agreed to hear Lucas read or whether Lucas showed him.

The next thing she knew, Mack was knocking on the door. “Tash? Someone’s here to see you.”

Startled, she sat up so quickly she felt dizzy for a moment. She’d dropped off in spite of her decision to get up. How long had she been out?

She grabbed her phone from where it was charging on a box next to the bed to check the time. It was after noon. She’d slept for five hours since Lucas had gotten up this morning. “Shit!” she whispered and sprang out of bed. “I’m sorry, Mack,” she said, louder. “I never meant to go back to sleep, let alone zonk out until lunchtime.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “You needed the rest.”

“Where’s Lucas?” she asked, slightly alarmed that she couldn’t hear him.

“He’s in the kitchen, having a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” He raised his voice so that Lucas could hear, too. “Or he will be after he finishes his carrots, right, buddy?”

“All done!” her son cried out. “Can I eat my sandwich now?”

She should never have left Mack babysitting all morning. But she couldn’t dwell on that right now. He’d told her that someone was at the door. Was it the internet company? She didn’t think they were scheduled until tomorrow.

“I’ll be right out,” she said and pulled on some cutoffs and a fresh Namaste T-shirt from her overnight bag before pulling her hair into a ponytail.

A draft of warm air, coming in from outside, hit her as she approached the door, which Mack had left standing open.

“Hello,” she said when she saw a redheaded woman, about ten years older, through the screen.

“You must be Dr. Gray,” the woman responded.

Natasha opened the screen door and noticed a picnic basket at the woman’s feet. “Yes.”

“I’m Camilla Ricci. I own Da Nonna, the Italian restaurant down the street. Aiyana Turner—Buchanon since she got married; I always forget that—planned to visit and welcome you in person, but something has come up that means she won’t be able to get away today. She asked me to bring you dinner, so that you wouldn’t feel so alone in your new house.” She lifted the basket to hand it over. “Welcome to Silver Springs.”

Natasha could see why she’d set it down. It was too heavy to hold for long. “That’s very nice of her. And you,” she said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Aiyana’s excited you’re here, and I hope I’ll have the chance to get to know you, too.”

“You said the name of your restaurant is Da Nonna?”

“Yes, but it’s not entirely mine. I only own half of it. My mother and I took over for my grandmother, once she passed. That’s why we changed the name to Da Nonna. It means Grandma’s place. But that’s the only change,” she added proudly. “We still use all of Nonna’s old recipes.”

“It sounds wonderful. I’ll stop in once I get settled. But I don’t want Mrs. Buchanon to have to pay for my dinner. Let me get my purse.” Natasha didn’t have a lot of cash, and her debit card had been declined at the U-Haul place, but she was hoping there’d be room for this meal.

“Don’t bother,” the woman said, stopping her. “Aiyana’s already taken care of it. And she’d be mad at me if I let you pay instead.”

“This is...such a nice welcome.” When Natasha put the basket down and opened the lid, the scent of garlic, onions and basil permeated the room. “There’s even a bottle of wine in here.”

Obviously curious, Mack walked over, and that was all it took to distract Lucas from his lunch. He followed Mack and leaned up against Natasha while Mack sorted through the basket. “Wow,” he said. “Looks delicious.”

“This must be your little boy,” Camilla said.

“Yes. His name’s Lucas. Can you say hello to Mrs. Ricci, Lucas?”

“Hello,” he mumbled shyly.

“What a cutie.” Camilla jerked her head to indicate Mack. “Looks just like his father, doesn’t he?”

For a moment, the whole world seemed to stand still. “Mack isn’t Lucas’s father,” Natasha said, oddly breathless, her heart in her throat. “My ex still lives in LA. Mack is...um...just a family friend who’s helping me move.”

Camilla’s face went as red as her hair. “Oh! I’m sorry. Aiyana made it sound as though you weren’t bringing your husband with you, but when I saw—” she gestured toward Mack “—and then Lucas, I assumed...”

Her words faded away when she realized she was only making things worse. “I have to go,” she said and hurried back down the walkway.

Mack didn’t move or speak as Natasha closed the door, and he didn’t offer to help when she lifted the basket into the kitchen. “Looks like we’ll have a great dinner,” she said, infusing as much enthusiasm into her voice as possible in an attempt to direct attention away from what’d just occurred. She’d always told herself and everyone else that Lucas belonged to Ace. But the truth was she didn’t know for sure—didn’t want to know, either. Although she and Ace hadn’t been exclusive when she’d returned to Whiskey Creek and spent that crazy night with Mack, she had slept with him before then, so chances were good Lucas belonged to Ace.

But sometimes when she looked at her son, she saw Mack’s likeness herself.

Lucas scrambled up on a chair Mack must’ve brought in and shoved the paper towel that held his sandwich aside so he could see inside the basket. “Are there any treats?”

“There’s some tiramisu, which is dessert.”

“Tira...what?”

She forced a laugh while watching Mack from the corner of her eye. “Never mind. You wouldn’t like that even if I could give it to you. I packed some snacks, so you don’t have anything to worry about. Speaking of which, we’d better finish unloading the van. I’ll just go brush my teeth first.”

Her mind was racing a million miles a minute, and so was her heart as she got out the toothpaste. It’ll be okay. Even if Lucas wasn’t Ace’s son, Mack couldn’t be mad at her. He’d never followed up after their night together. Not the way she’d wanted and needed him to. At the time, she’d fully believed he wouldn’t want to know.

She heard movement behind her and wished it was Lucas, but she could tell by the heavy tread on the stairs that it was Mack. He came up and leaned against the bathroom doorjamb, watching as she brushed her teeth.

His eyes never left her as she rinsed and dried her mouth. Finally, she answered the question she knew was burning uppermost in his mind. “It’s not possible.”

“You’d tell me?”

She dried her hands and tried to slip past him, but he caught her by the shoulders, which wasn’t hard to do since she only came up to his chest, and searched her face so thoroughly she could scarcely bring herself to meet his gaze. “Of course I would,” she lied. Things were what they were, and she was going to leave them that way. Lucas had a father; there was no reason to confuse him. And if she was wrong about the genetics, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if her mistake was costing Ace anything. She was taking care of Lucas herself. He wasn’t even paying child support. “Do you mind?” she said when Mack still didn’t step aside.

“Can we talk about the circumstances and timing?” he asked.

What was she going to do? She’d gotten over him, moved on with her life. She refused to open her heart or her mind to anything from the past. “I’ve already told you—no.”

“No, you don’t want to talk about it? Or no, it’s not a possibility?”

“Both.”

“Damn it, Tash,” he muttered, but he let go of her and moved out of the way.

It was difficult not to watch Lucas even more closely as they unloaded the truck. Mack didn’t want to put Natasha through anything else. Her life had been rough, and he’d inadvertently caused some of that pain. But did that mean he had to accept what she said without proof?

When she caught him studying Lucas, who was playing in the truck while they unloaded, he got back to work and lifted another box out of the moving van. “Where do you want this one?” he asked.

She seemed worried about what he was thinking and feeling, but she didn’t address it. He could tell she was too afraid—and that only made him more suspicious.

She peeked inside the flaps. “I’m sorry—I forgot to mark it. Looks like it goes in the bathroom.”

After she grabbed a different box, she followed him inside, and they made one trip after another until they’d managed to empty the van.

“Now I just need to put all this stuff away,” she said. “Moving is such a nightmare, isn’t it?”

He didn’t reply. She was trying to act as though that incident with Camilla Ricci had never occurred, but he couldn’t get the woman’s words out of his head: Looks just like his father, doesn’t he?

“Mack?”

“I’ll take the truck back to LA,” he said.

She nibbled at her bottom lip as she eyed him warily. “And then what?”

He came closer to her, so that he could lower his voice. “I’m going to buy an in-home paternity test.”

The blood drained from her face. “Why?”

He pointed at Lucas, who was busy taking toys out of a box they’d brought in. “That’s why.”

The gravity in his voice somehow drew Lucas’s attention, and he hurried over. “Me, Uncle Mack? Are you talking about me?”

Mack didn’t answer. He was too focused on Natasha, who didn’t seem to know what to say.

Lucas tilted his head back to look up at him. “Uncle Mack, are you mad?”

Mack pulled the boy close enough to be able to give him a reassuring pat. “No, I’m not mad. What happened was my fault.”

“What’d you do?” he asked.

“I made a mistake. But I’m hoping your mother will give me the chance to fix it.”

Natasha covered her face.

“Come on, Tash,” he said. “You know I would never have left you high and dry with a kid.”

She rubbed her forehead as though she had a spot on it she was trying to remove.

“Let me get the test,” he pressed. “Hiding from it won’t change the truth.”

“It’ll change other things,” she mumbled. “But now that you suspect, you’ll do it anyway.”

“I’d rather have your permission,” he said. “And I would rather you not hate the idea of it quite so much.”

She dropped her hands. “Damn it, Mack. I could’ve moved here myself. You didn’t have to come. Then that woman wouldn’t have said what she did and—and this probably would never have happened.”

She couldn’t even have rented the moving van without him. But he didn’t point that out. This wasn’t about helping her move and they both knew it. She was scared. If he was Lucas’s father, it would completely rewrite her child’s story, change one of the most important aspects of the boy’s life, which would be hard on Lucas and would certainly necessitate a difficult conversation with her ex-husband and his family.

Those were no small things.

“I’ve wondered from the beginning,” he admitted. “I would’ve asked you eventually, even if...if Camilla Ricci hadn’t said anything.” He lowered his head to catch her eye, since she was now staring at the floor. “I’ve just been working my way up to it.”

“I know,” she said with a sigh. “You almost asked me last night.”

His stomach filled with butterflies at the prospect of gaining proof of what he’d long suspected. Was he a father? What would it feel like to know for sure? “So you’re okay with my getting a paternity test?”

She blinked rapidly, giving him the impression she was on the verge of tears. “Where will you get one?” she asked without specifically answering.

“I researched it online. They sell them at Walgreens.”

“Walgreens,” she echoed faintly. “It’s that easy.”

“These days, yes.”

“How long does it take to get the results?”

“After we swab our cheeks—they need the mother’s DNA, too—and mail in all samples, it’ll take the lab only a couple of days before we can get the results online. So...from start to finish, including shipping, I’d say a week.”

She rubbed her palms on the front of her cutoffs, a nervous gesture he’d seen her do many times before—and one that drew his attention to her legs. She’d always had magnificent legs.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked. “Once we know, we can’t un-know. There will be no going back. And if what we suspect turns out to be true, your brothers will find out about that night seven years ago. Your father will, too. And my mother.” She drew a deep breath. “Maybe we should rethink this.”

She didn’t mention her ex, but he knew she had to be imagining what the results might mean for him, too. That their son didn’t belong to Ace would not be an easy thing to explain to him, especially after so long. And what would she tell Lucas?

“I’ve spent seven years thinking about it,” he told her.

“Thinking about what?” Lucas piped up.

“Thinking about you,” he replied and felt his heart melt as he lifted the boy into his arms and received a spontaneous hug.