Page 40 of Good Girl's Bad Lessons

“You don’t have to fail just because he did. You’re much better than him,” she said, threading her fingers with his. She lifted his hand to her lips and planted a kiss on the back of it. A quick, sweet smooch that carried a promise. A promise of support. He swallowed. A promise of love.

Chapter Thirteen

“Ready to pick up your baby?” he asked.

Emma nodded. She’d meant it when she’d told him dreams changed. What if Nicky wasn’t the big Lab she could take on a hike? He needed her more than any other dog she’d get in the United States, which automatically gave him an advantage.

As he knocked on the door, she was more worried about the answer he’d get from Desmorais. God. Maybe he’d need a puppy himself as a therapy device, to recover if he received a no. And then…she’d work with Desmorais on the project and think about his dream every step of the way. That would be too much of Nico in her mind for her to deal with.

Sabine, the same lady who showed them in days ago, welcomed them and took them to the living room.

Emma sat on the edge of the sofa, but he stood, pacing in small circles.

She drummed her fingers on her knee. Hopefully, Desmorais would end the suspense quickly, and Nico could move forward. The previous night he’d shared with her a secret he’d never told anyone else. Her heart broke for the young child having to carry such weight on his shoulders.

“Hello,” Desmorais said, coming down the stairs. Differently than the other day, the old man walked slowly to them, with dark rings under his eyes. A five o’clock shadow covered his chin. He almost seemed…disheveled.

“Hi, bonjour,” she said, standing to give him a hug.

He greeted her robotically, barely returning her embrace, then spun on his shoes and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit nervous. Nico, I really need to talk to you. It’s personal, so maybe Emma can go take a look at the dogs while we chat.”

Nico shortened the gap between them and held her hand. She couldn’t help but notice his palm was a bit cold, as if he, too, picked up on the tension filling the air. “Anything you tell me, she can hear it. I trust Emma.”

Her stomach dropped to the floor. I trust Emma. He squeezed her hand, cementing his statement. This was it. He trusted her and wanted her by his side.

Why does it matter? Her heart nearly galloped out of her chest. Because you’ve fallen in love with him. Her breath caught in her throat, and her knees almost buckled under her. How had she been so stupid? Goodness. Out of all the men in her universe, Nico Giordano had to be the worst fit for her…

“Okay.” Desmorais sat and gestured for them to do the same.

She plopped next to Nico and disentangled her hand from his. She rested her palm on his leg, desperately wanting him to know he could count on her—for better or for worse.

For better or for worse? Her cheeks flushed. I’m losing it. I really am.

“There’s a reason why I never wanted anything to do with the Giordanos,” he started. “I got involved with your mother many years ago, during one of her first vacations in Port Louis.”

“Involved? How?”

“We were intimate. I loved her.”

Emma inhaled all the oxygen in the room. His mom had an affair with Desmorais? She glanced at Nico, whose composed posture didn’t give away a thing. He was probably shocked but still digesting the information.

“Was it before or after her marriage? She married young.”

Desmorais coughed, his cheeks reddening. “Yes. We fell in love, but her father never approved of me. I was quite the lothario back then, older than her, with a short temper. So we broke up, and then she married your father shortly after. He always had his eye on her.”

Was Desmorais the guy she had an affair with, the one Nico told her about? The little hairs on the back of her neck rose. A shiver zapped down her spine, and her gaze darted between the two men. What if Desmorais is Marco’s biological father?

“My father was a better match.”

Desmorais gestured with his hand in agreement. “Yes. Italian, charming, coming from an affluent traditional family, great prospect.”

Uneasiness filled the air. She remained rooted to the spot. It isn’t my place to say anything.

Nico rubbed his forehead. What went through his mind? “So you ended.”

“We tried.” Desmorais picked up one of the crystals on the console table, his fingers playing with the pointy edges.

“I don’t remember you in the picture. My parents, for a while, seemed happy with each other.”

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