Taste (Cloverleigh Farms, #7)(73)

My dad didn’t look happy or convinced, but he didn’t argue with her.

“What will you do, honey?” my mother asked Ellie, playing with her hair. “Where will you live?”

Ellie shrugged. “I’ll probably stay at Abelard. I haven’t really thought that far ahead yet.”

“This is a lot to take in.” My mom brought her hands to her cheeks. “I’ve thought abstractly about grandchildren before, but I didn’t know it would be so soon.”

“Believe me, I know.” Ellie blew her nose and laughed a little. “This isn’t exactly the way I planned to start a family, but it’s the hand I was dealt.”

“I don’t understand why the dealer wasn’t more careful.” My dad was still giving me threatening looks.

“The dealer was careful,” I said defensively. “Mostly.”

“Nick, stop it.” My mother glared at my dad. “That’s not helping. And this isn’t a catastrophe—it’s a baby.” She smiled at Ellie, her eyes welling again. “A baby. Mia and I are having a baby! This is incredible!”

“I’m sorry, Ellie.” My dad got off the couch, came over and kissed her cheek. “I’m happy too. It’s just a shock.”

“I get it,” she said, blushing a little, which made me feel sort of sorry for myself. My mom was allowed to hug her, my dad could kiss her cheek, but I could hardly get close to her without her flinching. Why didn’t she like me?

Fucking everybody liked me!

Except, apparently, my father.

“We’re here for you, sweetheart,” he said to Ellie as he sat down again. “We’ll support you the whole time.”

“It’s not like I’m leaving her with nothing and never coming back,” I said, squaring my shoulders. “I’ll support her too.”

“What are you going to do when you get back, Gianni?” My dad looked at me. “What’s the plan? Where will you work? Where will you live?”

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “I just found out she was pregnant last night, Dad. Give me a minute.”

“It’s going to be fine, no matter what,” my mother said. She put an arm around Ellie and pulled her close again. “Better than fine. It will be wonderful. You’re going to have all the help you need. This baby is wanted and loved.”

“Thank you.” Ellie sniffed, leaning against my mom. “I appreciate it.”





When we stood up to leave, my dad took my arm. “Can I talk to you alone please?”

Fuck.

“Okay.” I looked at Ellie. “Give me a sec?”

“Sure,” she said. “I have to use the bathroom real quick anyway.”

I followed my dad through the kitchen and into the garage, where he snapped on the light. It was cold in there—cold enough to see our breath—and I buttoned up my coat.

My father stood in a plain black T-shirt with his feet apart, his inked-up arms folded. Somewhere on his chest was my mom’s name in a heart, tattooed when he was like twenty or something, the writing blurry and the ink faded now, but the sentiment behind it the same.

But it wasn’t like that for everyone, and that wasn’t my fault.

“You got anything to say for yourself?” he barked.

I shrugged. “Like what?”

“Like what? I don’t know whether to hug you or take off my belt and whip your ass for the first time in twenty-three years.”

“For what, Dad? It was an accident.”

He shook his head. “Accidents happen. That’s not why I’m mad.”

“Then what are you mad at? Even Ellie isn’t this mad, and she’s the one having the baby.”

“She’s a sweet girl.”

“I know.” I ran a hand over my hair. “I’m going to support her. It’s not like I’m abandoning them.”

He cocked his head. “So running off to do some TV show and leaving her behind to deal with everything is supportive?”

“She told me to go, Dad. You heard her.” I fidgeted, shifting my weight. “I even offered to marry her. She said no.”

“You offered to marry her? Or you asked her to marry you?”

“What’s the difference?”

My dad rubbed his face with both hands, noisily inhaling and exhaling.

“I also offered to take her with me to California, and she said no to that too. She’s very independent, okay? And I’m the last guy on earth she’d want to spend the rest of her life with. She thinks I’m a liar and a game player.”

“Why does she think that?”

I cringed. “If I tell you the truth, you can’t be more mad.”

“I’ll bet I can.”

Knowing I’d regret this—or maybe that I deserved any shit he’d give me—I took a breath and confessed the truth. “My SUV wasn’t really dead the second day. I made it up so she’d stay at the motel another night with me . . . which I’m pretty sure is the night she got pregnant.”

His stare got even more mean.

“I know, it’s shitty. I told her the truth the very next day, I felt so bad.”

“Was she upset?”