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Finally she said. "Peter's still sleeping. Why don't you come inside and I'll make us some lunch."
"I'm not hungry," he said.
"Oh. Okay."
This wasn't working out the way he'd planned it. "Larissa, sit down."
"Why?"
"We have to talk."
"I guess we do. Are you sure you don't want any food? How about some iced tea?"
"No. Nothing."
She sat down on one of the wrought-iron chairs around a small café-style table. He took one of the chairs, spun it around and sat facing her.
"What'd you want to talk to me about?"
"A couple of things. First off, I'd like to take Peter to get a paternity test."
* * *
Larissa laced her fingers together and stared at Jake. He was so familiar to her, yet at the same time a stranger with steely determination. This was the man who'd made D&D's coffeehouse the success it was today. And though Larissa had spent some late nights with Jake in college, he'd been more of a dreamer then than the man he was today.
The calm she'd tried to find through yoga had disappeared as soon as she'd seen Jake. She'd gone into his arms remembering the man she'd left earlier today. The man who'd told her she could trust him. This didn't feel like trust. This felt … this felt like betrayal.
"You don't think he's your son?" she asked at last.
He watched her with that intense dark brown stare that penetrated through the layers she used to protect herself. She flinched under his scrutiny, tucking a stray strand of hair back into her ponytail.
"I didn't say that," he said, running his hands through his thick black curly hair. She could still feel the texture of his hair in her hands. She clenched her hands and tried to concentrate on his words.
"Yes, you did. If you believed me then you wouldn't need a test." She'd known he'd be angry at her for keeping the truth from him but had never expected him to doubt he was the father.
"Don't make this about you and me, Rissa. This is a matter of practicality. I can't provide for Peter until I'm legally recognized as his father. Only a paternity test can prove that."
Practicality. She'd spent a lifetime being practical, realistic and sensible. She understood those things, but just once she wanted the fantasies she still harbored to come true. A million thoughts ran through her head. Jumbled and confused—a chaotic disarray of her view of reality. She pulled her legs up in the chair and wrapped her arms around them. Of all the things that Jake could say to her this was the one thing she'd never expected.
She wished now she'd run away this morning when Ms. Carmody had called. That she'd taken Peter and disappeared. Anything so she didn't have to go through this. She'd created a mess of complications she'd never considered when she'd kept Peter a secret.
Complications that had made her regret her actions a few times—things like medical history; Peter had asthma. Things like who would take care of her son if she died; Larissa had no family. Things like being a part of a wealthy family; Larissa made enough to provide for her son, but was she denying him the opportunity for more?
"Everything is so…" She trailed off, afraid of revealing too much to Jake. It would be different if they were just friends, if there wasn't that spark of sexual attraction buzzing between them.
He raised one eyebrow at her in question.
"Complex," she said at last.
His lips quirked and he reached across the small table to pull her hands off her legs. He twined their fingers together. "We'll take it one day at a time—together."
Together. The word scared her. She'd grown used to being independent, to being solely responsible for Peter. It was strange to think that Jake would have some say in Peter's life. Not necessarily in a bad way, she realized, which also scared her.
"I'm still not sure that us moving in with you is a good idea."
"Now that I've seen your place, I'd be willing to move here."
She didn't want Jake here in her house. This was her sanctuary from the world. The one place where it didn't matter that she'd never really had a father. "No, we better stay at your house."
"This is a nice place," Jake said after a while, gesturing to the house.
"Thanks. It suits us. We spend a lot of time out here or on the river."
"I never pictured you as an outdoorsy person," he said. He shifted her hands in his, his thumbs making lazy circles on her palms.
"Probably because I'm so bookish."
"Bookish?"
"What would you call me?" she asked.
"Intelligent but in a sexy way."
"I had no idea brains were a turn-on for men."
"I don't know about other men."
She smiled at him, unsure where this was going. She tugged her hands away from his and looked out at the Savannah River. She loved this house even though she'd inherited it from a man she'd scarcely known.
