Summer laughed lightly. ‘Don’t be too impressed. I’ve had years of practice.’
‘It did seem to have that experienced kind of flair,’ he agreed. Now she did snort. They took a few more steps before he asked, ‘Was it all innocent, though? Telling her off?’
‘Sure.’
‘Why don’t I believe you?’
‘Because you’ve never been polite enough to accept my answers at face value.’ Except our divorce. The thought gave her pause, but she set it aside for later. ‘There might have been a sincerer motive behind my impoliteness.’
‘You weren’t impolite.’
‘I’m sure my mother will disagree with you once she hears of this,’ she said dryly.
‘And she will hear about it?’
‘Almost certainly.’ She glanced at him. ‘You’ve been in these circles long enough to know nothing you say ever stays with the person you’ve said it to.’
His eyes met hers. ‘That’s not true.’
Her lips parted, and she slowly let the air release through them, as if she’d been deflated. She swallowed. Fortunately, she was saved from giving an answer when he asked, ‘Are you worried about your biological clock?’
She blinked, then burst out laughing, just as she had with Pamela. ‘No.’ She tilted her head. ‘I’ve actually never given having children that much thought. I suppose it hasn’t been one of my main priorities.’
‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘I probably should have known that, considering I was your husband.’
She looked over. ‘Do you want kids?’
‘Not sure.’ He gave her a dry look. ‘I’ve never thought about it.’
She laughed. ‘Oh, I see how it is. I’m a woman, so I must have spent all my time dreaming about the perfect wedding and the perfect family?’
‘Didn’t you?’
‘My first—and only,’ she added, ‘wedding was arranged in the space of a week and happened in court. Does that sound like someone who imagined their wedding?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘There’s no such thing as a perfect family.’
‘Not even the Bishops?’
He’d asked the question deliberately, and something shifted inside her. She knew it because she hesitated—even though her instinct was to lie. From the moment she’d heard about his parents, Summer had recognised that thing pushing Wyatt to work as hard as he did was an idea. An illusion. He wanted the ideal life; the life he thought Trevor had. But there was no such thing as an ideal life. And for once, she wanted to be honest about it.
Even if she had to tarnish the illusion.
‘Especially not the Bishops,’ she answered.
Emotion tried to claw its way from her heart up to her throat. All of her bravado faded, and she changed the topic.
‘That hasn’t stopped Autumn from wanting one. A family,’ she said, when her mind told her her transition might have been too abrupt for him to follow. ‘A wedding. It’s always been part of her life plan.’ She paused. ‘Maybe that’s why she loves baking for weddings so much.’
They reached the shady section, and she kicked off her shoes before she let him help her sit down. Moments later, they were lying on their backs, their feet in the sun and the rest of their bodies in the shade, staring up at the blue sky. Something about it made her feel nostalgic.
‘I remember Autumn used to make these scrapbooks of what she wanted her wedding to look like.’ She dug her heels into the sand, then pushed her feet out before sliding them back together, bringing new sand into the holes she’d created. She repeated the motion. ‘And she used to use literally anything she could find in the house and pretend it was a baby.’
She thought of the time Autumn had used a two-and-a-half-kilogram sugar packet as her baby, had punctured it by accident, then fallen asleep with the packet in her bed and woken up to ants.
Her I’m a mommy game had been confined to dolls and teddy bears after that.
‘Anyway, she’s been a bit more sensitive to things like what Pamela said after the whole thing with Hunter exploded in her face.’
She placed the back of her hand onto her forehead, letting the other one slide out next to her. On the opposite side of Wyatt. She didn’t need any accidental touching. As it was, she was already struggling with him being close.
With him being close in that white shirt that made him so devastatingly handsome.
‘I heard about their break-up.’
‘I’m not surprised. Bishop Enterprises is a hotbed for gossip.’
‘Actually, your father told me.’
‘Oh.’ Her feet stopped moving. ‘Of course he did.’
‘That’s hard for you to hear?’ he asked softly. She could tell that he was looking at her.
‘No.’
‘He hasn’t ever told me anything about you, if that’s what you’re worried about,’ Wyatt said stiffly.
Her head turned before she could stop it.
‘I’m not. I wouldn’t have cared if you’d known something about me,’ she said, testing it out in her head to be sure. She was. ‘Besides, he wouldn’t have known anything I didn’t want you to know anyway.’
‘You would have kept something from him because of me?’
‘No.’
She wanted to roll over so she could brush away the line between his brows. Instead, she looked back up to the sky. When the silence stayed for much longer than she was comfortable with, she went back to talking about Autumn.
Using her problems to avoid your own. Nice.
‘The break-up wasn’t easy on Autumn,’ Summer said, when the thought made her feel nauseous. ‘I thought I’d take one for the team.’
‘You’re a good sister,’ he noted, though his voice sounded strange. ‘I’m sure you told her she has more than enough time to have a perfect wedding and family.’
‘I have.’ She cleared her throat. His good sister comment had done something to her insides. Probably because she didn’t believe she was a good sister. Good sisters didn’t keep secrets.
‘She doesn’t believe me.’ Summer frowned slightly. ‘It’s hard to be somewhere other than where you thought you would be at a certain age. Especially for someone like Autumn. Her entire life’s followed a plan.’
‘Where did you think you’d be at your age?’ he asked after a pause.
Her lips curved. ‘Pretty much where I am right now.’
‘Divorced?’
She grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it at his midriff, almost smiling when he twisted his body with a laugh.
‘I was kidding.’
‘Sure you were,’ she said, giving him the stink eye. As he chuckled and brushed the sand off his shirt, she said, ‘No, I did not imagine I’d be a divorcee at the age of twenty-eight.’
She hesitated briefly before settling on telling him the truth. ‘Honestly? I thought I’d be somewhere in the management of Bishop Enterprises.’
He turned over onto his side, resting his head on his hand. ‘Which is not where you are right now.’
‘I’m in management,’ she reminded him.
‘Yeah, but it’s not the family business.’
‘No,’ she agreed. ‘It’s not.’
His eyes searched her face. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to work for Bishop Enterprises?’
‘I told you why last night. I thought it would mean more to build something for myself.’ She took a breath. Answered his real question. ‘It had nothing to do with you. And it wouldn’t have changed things between us.’
He didn’t reply.
‘You more than anyone should know how important building is,’ she said softly, turning to face him and mirroring his position. ‘You’ve built an entire life for yourself. By yourself.’
He stared at her, then turned onto his back. Since she’d used the trick herself, she knew he was tryin
g to avoid looking at her.
‘Sometimes I find myself asking if that was worth anything.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ve built and I’ve built but... I still don’t have what I thought I would.’
Seeing the opportunity, she bit her lip. Sucked in air before diving in.
‘Maybe... Maybe it’s because what you thought you’d have wasn’t realistic.’
* * *
He wanted to ask her what she meant, except that he already knew. At least in part. Having this conversation with her proved how unrealistic his wants were. And how he could never truly have what he wanted.
The opportunity to have these conversations with her whenever he wanted to. The pleasure of being the person she shared her thoughts and dreams with. The ability to listen to her laugh whenever he wanted to. To kiss her whenever he wanted to.
‘It’s not unrealistic because it’s you,’ Summer said, studying him. ‘It’s not realistic for anyone.’
‘That’s not true. It was realistic for your father.’
‘No,’ she said, her expression tight and pained. ‘It’s not. My father isn’t—’
‘It doesn’t matter, Summer,’ he interrupted.
‘It does matter. This is part of what—’ She broke off when he moved, staring incredulously when he stood. ‘You’re leaving?’ she asked him. ‘Wyatt, you’re—’
Now she’d broken off because he’d lowered and scooped her into his arms, and was determinedly walking to the ocean. At least, that was what he wanted her to think...
‘What are you doing?’
‘Stopping you from talking,’ he told her. He was rewarded with widened eyes and a curse so dirty he couldn’t help but grin.
‘I swear, if you throw me into the ocean, you will live to regret it.’
‘I won’t throw you into the ocean,’ he assured her. ‘I’ll gently place you—’
She interrupted him with another curse.
‘Wyatt,’ she said through her teeth, ‘please, for the love of all that is good in this world, put me down.’
He stopped abruptly and did as she asked, enjoying the surprise on her face.
She sniffed. ‘Thank you. I assure you this was the best decision you could have made.’
‘I’m not sure I agree with that,’ he told her. ‘But at least it gives you the opportunity to run.’
‘To run? What does—?’
‘Three—’
‘Wyatt?’ she asked, her eyes wide, which told him she’d finally comprehended what he’d meant. He didn’t think she knew it, but she’d taken a step back.
‘—two—’
‘Wyatt Montgomery, don’t you dare think this will scare me into—’
‘One!’
She shrieked and began to run, and, with a grin, he followed.
Perhaps he would look back at this moment and wonder if he’d really wanted to avoid talking about his unrealistic dreams so much that he’d picked her up. Perhaps he’d wonder what had possessed him to put her back down and start chasing her. Or perhaps he’d just look back at this moment and see himself having fun for the first time in for ever.
Hell, he felt like a kid, running around freely, chasing someone he liked. Except he didn’t know if that was true. He’d never had the opportunity to run around freely or play games when he’d been a kid. He’d been too busy taking care of his mother. Too busy being responsible and figuring out which steps he needed to take to get them a life she’d denounced as unrealistic.
Stability and security wouldn’t have been real for him and his mother anyway. He’d tried hard during his teen years to get them there. To create a routine for them every time she left rehab. Even after her first few relapses and he’d begun to anticipate the moment he’d find her drunk again. Even after he would and he’d be forced back into foster care until she was sober again.
He tried again—and again and again—to turn their lives into something. He’d even thought he’d succeeded, when he’d turned eighteen. The routine had finally stuck. Things had been steadier. Weeks without drinking had turned into months, and he’d let himself believe it would be different this time.
He’d let himself believe it was safe to go off to university with the part-bursary, part-loan he’d taken out to live on campus and study. He’d returned to a ‘For Sale’ sign on the front lawn with his mother nowhere to be found.
He’d called the estate agent, who’d told him his mother had chosen to sell the very month he’d left for university. The house had been cleared out of everything, including his own things, and the agent had been in contact with his mother through a lawyer. When he’d called the lawyer, he’d got a bunch of nonsense about attorney/client privilege and he’d got the picture. His mother hadn’t wanted him to contact her. She’d purposefully made it hard so he wouldn’t.
He hadn’t. He still didn’t know where she was.
The experience should have taught him that, no matter how hard he tried, he’d never have the true stability and happiness he wanted: a family. People who cared for him unconditionally. Who wouldn’t leave him.
Yet he’d still allowed himself to hope with Summer. He’d allowed himself to trust her. And just like his mother, Summer had shown him what a mistake hoping, trusting had been. So obviously, too. She’d been just like his father, pulling away from Wyatt first, then leaving. Because there were conditions to her love. She wanted someone who didn’t come from a broken home. Someone who fitted her idea of the man she should be with.
He’d thought that idea was her father. When he’d sensed her pulling away, Wyatt had tried to be like Trevor. In some stupid way, he’d thought it would be enough to keep her from leaving.
Now he wondered if he’d got that wrong. And asked himself whether he’d ever learn.
He looked at her, running ahead of him, skirt flapping around her shapely legs, hair tumbling out of its confines at the nape of her neck. He pushed forward, enjoying her shriek, feeling it smooth something inside him even though he was sure she’d caused that something to crease.
Today wouldn’t be the day he learnt anything.
He caught up to her easily, then ran a few metres ahead before turning to face her.
With a frown, she stopped, too, and said a little breathlessly, ‘Aren’t you supposed to do something once you catch me?’
‘No.’
She tilted her head, waiting for more. But he got distracted by the curls that had escaped and were now wildly framing her face.
‘Wyatt?’ she said impatiently. ‘Are you going to tell me why you’ve stopped playing a game you started?’
‘Okay.’ He frowned, trying to formulate a valid reason. ‘It felt inappropriate.’
‘What did?’
‘Picking you up, then setting you down and chasing you.’
‘What are you talking about?’
He sighed. ‘I’m your ex-husband. What I just described could easily have been a plot to a horror movie.’
‘You’re my friend,’ she corrected, ‘and we were having fun.’
‘Fun?’ he repeated. ‘You swearing at me and then running away was fun?’
‘Well—yeah.’ She pushed absently at the curls of hair that had bounced over her forehead. ‘Weren’t you having fun?’
His lips curved. ‘Yeah, I was.’
‘Okay.’ She nodded, putting her hands on her waist. ‘Okay. That’s fine.’ He wasn’t sure who she was talking to. ‘That’s perfectly fine. We’re allowed to have fun with one another.’
He smirked.
‘Even if the fun came because you wanted to change the subject of a conversation we were having.’
His smirk died a swift death.
‘I think we should get back. They’ll start to wonder about us.’
‘So let them wonder,’ she re
plied, moving closer to him. ‘You can’t keep running, Wyatt.’
‘I don’t have to think about why you left if I keep running,’ he said, the words slipping off his tongue. He couldn’t bring himself to regret them.
Her expression tensed. ‘My priorities changed.’
‘Right after you found out about my parents,’ he retorted, the anger he’d felt moments ago reigniting.
Their eyes met. It felt as if a flare shot up and into the sky.
‘Yes,’ she said after what felt like an eternity. ‘I found out about your parents and I realised that I would never be what you wanted.’
‘You... No,’ he said with a shake of his head. ‘You realised I wouldn’t be what you wanted.’
‘What? No.’ She paused. ‘That’s what you think?’
‘You started pulling away from me after that.’
‘Because I realised I wasn’t what you wanted, Wyatt,’ she repeated. ‘You told me about your parents and I realised all the work you were putting into your life... It was so you could have a life I could never give you.’
He shook his head, unable to speak.
‘I don’t blame you.’
‘But you did,’ he said automatically. ‘You left.’
‘Because the life you want doesn’t exist,’ she cried. ‘I couldn’t watch you strive for something that isn’t real.’
‘Why didn’t you just tell me?’
Her eyes searched his face. ‘You’re angry. I’ll tell you—’
‘Summer,’ he said, his voice low, ‘why didn’t you tell me?’
There was a long pause.
‘It gave you purpose,’ she told him softly. ‘Before you met my father you didn’t have that and your life then...’ Her voice faded. She cleared her throat. ‘I wasn’t going to be responsible for pushing you back into a life that made you miserable.’
His mind raced at the new information. There was too much of it, and too many emotions accompanying it, and yet he knew she wasn’t telling him everything.
‘There’s more.’
She lifted both her hands and placed them on either side of his face. ‘Yes.’
‘Tell me.’
Second Chance with Her Billionaire Page 10
