and she thrust it aside. Annoyance bubbled up in its place, and she hugged that emotion to her. It was typical of Vincente to do it this way. To confront her, invade her space, then become judge and jury and deliver his verdict all within the space of a few minutes.
“I’ve moved on with my life.” She tried for a hard tone as she delivered the words. It wasn’t true, but she needed to convince Vincente it was.
“Fine.” The disdain left his eyes as they moved from Beth’s face to Lia’s. “Maybe we could continue this inside, since I’m not walking away now I know I have a daughter?”
Inviting him in would make a huge statement. But what would she gain by keeping him standing here? She knew Vincente’s stubbornness only too well. When he said he wasn’t going anywhere, he meant it. The thunderstorm was coming. Where it took place was irrelevant. She led Vincente into the family room, and he sat on one of the sofas. Lia commenced an exploration of his face, pulling at his neatly trimmed beard and trying to poke him in the eye. Her delighted squeals broke the ice, and Beth found herself smiling at Vincente’s efforts to hold on to the squirming little bundle. Conscious of the untidy room, her shirt with its missing button and the stain on the front where Lia had spilled milk that morning at breakfast, Beth made a hurried movement to pick up some of the abandoned toys that littered the floor.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Even though it was the obvious question, it stopped her in her tracks. Since she had no idea where to begin with an answer, the series of increasingly anguished howls that rent the air provided a welcome reprieve.
“What the hell is that?” Vincente looked horrified.
“It’s my dog, Melon. He wants to come in.” Beth went through to the back of the house and opened the door.
When Melon reached the door of the family room, he paused, his ears flattening and his tail drooping. Beth could almost read the dog’s mind. Visitors were a rarity, but Melon was a sociable creature, and, on the whole, he liked them. This one, however, had the audacity to place his hands on Melon’s beloved baby. That couldn’t be tolerated.
Crouching low, Melon bared his teeth and growled at Vincente. Since aggression toward humans wasn’t in his nature, he mitigated the threat by wagging his tail.
“Sit!” Vincente’s voice was stern. Beth recalled that he always did have a way with animals.
Melon, clearly realizing the error of his ways, dashed over to him, and attempted to lick his hand. “I said ‘sit.’”
To Beth’s amazement, Melon sat.
“He doesn’t do that for me.” She couldn’t keep the aggrieved note out of her voice.
“You have to show him who’s boss.” Vincente snapped his fingers. Melon sidled forward, resting his head on Vincente’s knee and gazing up at him with adoring eyes.
Beth took a deep breath. “Look, I’m not trying to avoid this conversation, but I have a huge amount of work to do and the deadline is tomorrow. And I need to get Lia’s lunch ready...”
“You look tired.” Vincente’s eyes probed her face. Although it felt strange to have him here, a comment such as that was oddly comforting. It reminded her how well he knew her. He was the only person who really did. “More than tired. You look done in, Beth.”
“You have no idea.” She gave a shaky laugh. “Lia is teething, so she’s not sleeping too well right now. I’m trying to fit work around her schedule, but since she doesn’t really have a schedule—”
“Why don’t you get some rest while I look after her?” The blunt words cut across her floundering and the hard look in his eyes had softened slightly, but the tension level between them remained high.
This was classic Vincente. Like a seasoned boxer, he knew how to cause a distraction before delivering the knockout blow. “I thought you wanted to talk?”
There was a razor edge to his smile. “Okay. Go. Tell me why I wasn’t even worth a call or a message.”
Beth wanted to go to him. To take his face in her hands and tell him how much he meant to her, how much their time together had meant. But although he looked like Vincente, he was a stranger. A hard, cold man who had put up a barrier between them. And she knew that, no matter what she said, it would only push him further behind that barricade.
“There is nothing I can say to make this right.”
Even behind the anger, she could see Vincente’s pain. In the past, she’d have known how to take the hurt away. This time, she was the cause. The knowledge caused tiny shards of ice to pierce her heart.
“You don’t get off that lightly, Beth.” She could see his muscles bunched tight beneath his T-shirt as he held his fists clenched. “This isn’t like that time you drove my car into the wall and forgot to tell me. Or when I smashed that old china cat.”
That was it. Vincente had always known how to get to her. Despite her determination to stay calm, Beth felt anger crashing through her. How dare he bring up past hurts at a time like this?
“You mean the antique figurine my grandmother left me? The one you broke and didn’t tell me? The one I found in pieces in the trash?”
“Exactly.” There was triumph in his eyes. “This isn’t anything so trivial. This is about how we made another person and you didn’t even bother to call me.”
To her horror, Beth felt tears burn the back of her eyelids. When she tried to speak again, her lips trembled and her voice refused to work. Vincente started to speak again, but she held up a hand.
“No more.” The word was little more than a croak and she struggled to get her voice back under control. Pointing to Lia, she shook her head. “Not in front of her.” She took a deep breath. “And you’re right. I’m tired.”
His expression was grim, but she saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. “So do what I suggested. Get some rest.” The inflexible note was still there. “Because we are having this conversation, Beth. Whether you want it or not.”
Flustered, she tried to hit on a reason to refuse that didn’t involve going straight to ordering him out of her house. “She doesn’t settle easily with people she doesn’t know.” Since Lia was curled comfortably into the crook of his arm, that excuse wasn’t going to work. “You’re not used to children.”
“No, I’m not, but you’ll only be upstairs. You’re dead on your feet, Beth. I’m worried about you.” In place of the continuing tempest, the unexpectedly gentle note in his voice shook her equilibrium even further.
She remembered that knack he had of catching her off guard. He was right. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept for more than an hour or two at a stretch. If she didn’t get some rest soon, she would fall down. And what use would she be if she was exhausted? If she didn’t meet tomorrow’s deadline, she would lose her job. She was already behind with the rent...
The situation was ridiculous. How many times had she pictured meeting Vincente again? Not once had the imaginary conversations she had conducted in her head included him offering to babysit. And behind the concern, she knew—because who knew him better than she did?—that his anger that was still waiting to be unleashed.
“Let me do this, Beth.” A persuasive
