A Match Made Perfect--A Clean Romance

by Anna J. Stewart

  He wanted to talk. Okay. She gripped the edge of the metal locker door and squeezed her eyes shut, then took a deep breath. She could do this. This was part of why she’d come back, after all. This would just be a conversation. A conversation she’d let him take the lead on. Whatever he asked her, she’d answer and hope, maybe even pray, he accepted her explanation. More important, she hoped he’d understand.

  “You all right?” Brooke jumped when Holly laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “It’s all right. It’s fine.” Brooke caught sight of herself in the tiny mirror taped to the inside of the locker door. “Wow, I’m a mess.” Strands of hair had fallen loose and she had what looked like ketchup smeared on the side of her cheek.

  “Sign of hard work,” Holly reassured her. “You did great for your first day, Brooke.”

  “Thanks.” She had to admit, her tips had been far better than she expected. She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out the fist of bills and change and offered them to Holly.

  “Tips are yours, remember? You earned them.” Holly reached past her for Brooke’s purse and held it open. “Count it when you get home and bask in your success. You up for a full eight-hour shift tomorrow?”

  “Absolutely.” She dumped her tips into her bag and felt a thrill of success shoot through her.

  “Great. I’ll see you at six. You’ll probably sleep like the dead tonight.”

  If no other part of her did, her feet would. The thin-soled sneakers weren’t doing her any favors. She definitely needed to find a better pair of work shoes before tomorrow.

  “Go clean yourself up a bit. Can’t do anything about the shirt, but I’m sure Sebastian will sympathize.” Holly steered her toward the bathroom in the back. “I’ve got a tuna-sandwich lunch box ready for you. Do you want a milkshake?”

  Did she? Brooke had to stop and think. She hadn’t had much of an appetite the past few months, but suddenly the idea of a milkshake had her stomach growling. “Vanilla sounds great, thanks.”

  “I’ll get Twyla on that.”

  “Holly.” Brooke felt the need to explain. “It’s not a date or anything. He just wants to talk.” Probably to let her know that Mandy didn’t want to see her, after all. “There’s nothing between us anymore.” How could there be?

  “Keep telling yourself that.”

  Brooke was still trying to figure out what Holly meant when she emerged from the kitchen, belongings and paper lunch sack in hand. She spotted Sebastian waiting outside as Twyla handed her the milkshake to go.

  “See you tomorrow,” Twyla said in a singsong voice.

  “It’s like working with a cartoon princess,” Brooke murmured to herself, then shot a quick smile at Sebastian when he held open the door for her. The last time he’d done that she’d led with her very pregnant belly.

  They didn’t say a word to one another as they walked across the street, nor did the conversation start immediately after they sat on the stone wall. She was tempted to take off her shoes and sink her feet into the cool sand, but given the way her toes were throbbing, she wasn’t convinced she’d be able to get the shoes back on.

  Waiting for him to take the lead, she busied herself unloading her lunch. The thin cardboard box inside the bag was filled with a parchment-wrapped tuna sandwich, a cup of potato salad, a container of homemade sliced pickles and a chocolate-chip cookie for dessert. But first...she punched a paper straw into the cup and took a long, thick drink of the shake, all the while avoiding anything close to eye contact with Sebastian.

  It didn’t last long, however. When she forced herself to look at him, she found him watching her with something akin to a smile on his face. “What?”

  “You and ice cream. Or in this case milkshakes. You get this expression on your face.” He waved a hand in front of his own. “This blissful, peaceful expression the second you take a hit. Mandy gets it, too.”

  Brooke found it hard to swallow. The questions piled up in her head. Where did she start? Where did she end? “Did she get anything else from me? Other than the eyes?” She reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry. I smell like burgers and fries.”

  Sebastian’s smile was quick and he looked out over the horizon, as if debating whether to answer her question. “She has your laugh. Right from the start, she had your laugh.”

  Tears burned hot in her throat. She forced herself to take a bite of her sandwich. When she swallowed, she brushed her hands on her jeans. “There hasn’t been a day I haven’t thought about both of you.” There it was, the first admission. “There hasn’t been a day I haven’t missed you.”

  “I didn’t have the luxury of missing you.” Sebastian’s voice sounded detached. “I had a baby girl to worry about. I had a store to open, a home to make. And I had to do it without you.”

  “I know. Sebastian, I—” The words evaporated from her mind. He’d had his parents. His wonderful, loving, accepting parents who had welcomed her into their family without a second thought. “I knew you weren’t alone.” But she had been. Every single day since. “I didn’t know they’d moved away. Are they...okay?” She hated to ask for fear the answer would only be another barrier between them.

  Sebastian nodded, looking out into the ocean. “Mom’s sister was having health issues so they went out there to help. They liked it so much they decided to stay. They come back for a few weeks during the holidays.”

  So she had left him to raise their daughter alone. Brooke swallowed hard.

  How many times had she rehearsed this moment? Written it down, talked it out? Dozens, hundreds of times. And yet now, when it mattered most, when the opportunity she’d been waiting for had finally arrived, it was clear no amount of preparation would do any good. She’d abandoned him. Abandoned their daughter. Her reason didn’t matter. Couldn’t matter. “I know there’s no forgiving what I did. Especially how I did it.”

  “Yeah, that disappearing act was memorable.”

  Brooke bit her lip and ducked her head.

  She’d written him a letter. Weeks later. She’d written one to Mandy, too, but never mailed them. Nor had she mailed the dozens she’d written over the years, spilling out every doubt, every regret, thought and ounce of love she could manage at the tip of a pen. She’d tucked away the notes in a locked box in her closet. Notes and cards for birthdays, Christmases. Good days. Bad ones.

  The box was in BethAnn’s house now. Other than clothes, it had been the only thing she’d brought with her from South Carolina.

  It had been the only thing that mattered.

  “What happened, Brooke?” Sebastian’s voice brought her instantly to the present. “One day we were happy and ready to dive into the future together, and the next you were gone. What changed? What scared you so much you had to leave without even saying goodbye?”

  Even the milkshake lost its appeal. “My mother—”

  “At the hospital after Mandy was born, you chose me. You agreed to marry me. You left with me. I was there, remember? I stood by your side when you told your parents you weren’t going home with them. That you’d chosen your life. Our life.”

  Other than bringing Mandy into the world, it had been her proudest moment. Until she’d been faced with the reality of what her choice entailed. And what her mother would do—had sworn to do—if she didn’t change her mind. “I wasn’t strong enough, Sebastian. I know you always thought I was, but the truth was—the truth is—I wasn’t. I could barely take care of myself, let alone a baby and a husband.”

  “That’s your mother talking.” He shook his head. “All these years and I can still hear her words coming out of your mouth. I loved you, Brooke. Enough for both of us. Enough to see us through whatever we had to do. We didn’t need their money thanks to my parents. We didn’t need their approval. You didn’t trust that. You didn’t believe in me the way I
believed in you.”

  She could see it on his face—the disbelief, the hurt.

  “I can’t change the past, Sebastian.” Something it had taken her years to come to terms with. “I can’t take away the pain you and Mandy suffered as a result of my decisions. I can only try to make amends and move forward.”

  “That’s it?” Confusion marred his brow. “That’s all you’re going to say, after all these years, that’s all I get? It’s all we get?”

  “Yes.” Exhaustion swept over her like the evening tide. “Nothing I say is ever going to change what happened. If that’s what this discussion is supposed to be, you may as well go.” She leaned over to pick up the empty paper sack that had been caught by the wind.

  “Brooke.” He whispered her name an instant before his fingers brushed against the bare skin of her torso, where her T-shirt had inched up. Against the angry red scars she saw every day when she got dressed and undressed. “Brooke, what happened?”

  She pushed away his hand, tugged down her shirt and moved out of reach. She didn’t want his pity. But that was exactly what she saw on his face when she forced herself to meet his gaze. “It’s nothing.”

  “Those aren’t nothing. They’re recent. Brooke—” He reached for her again, but she shot to her feet, nearly stumbling to avoid his touch.

  “I said it’s nothing!”

  “Tell me.”

  She shook her head and then tilted up her chin to the afternoon sky.

  “Brooke.” He reached out but she scooted away. Not far enough, though, because he caught her hand in his. “Tell me what happened to you.”

  “I don’t want your sympathy.” If only her tone matched her words. Instead they had come out as a plea. She didn’t want him to touch her. Not when it reminded her of everything they’d had. Everything they could have had. His disappointment she could handle; she’d prepared for it. But the idea that he felt sorry for her...

  He drew her back down, clinging to her hand even when she tried to pull away. Her blood surged through her veins. Her heart pounded so hard she felt it echo in her ears.

  “It was a car accident.” Five words encompassed so much. “Five months ago. Just after my father died. I’d been helping organize a fund-raising dinner in downtown Charleston and the car my mother sent to pick me up was hit by a big rig.” If she let herself, she could still hear the echoes of screeching brakes, the explosion of metal against metal, feel the shower of glass slicing her skin.

  “It must have been pretty bad to leave you with scars like that.”

  The sob caught in her throat before she took a breath, but she pushed on. “I should have died.” The breeze cooled the dampness on her cheeks. “I was in a coma for ten days. Massive concussion.” She waved her hand by her temple. “I still get headaches, but not as bad as I used to. Just when I get stressed or overtired. There were other injuries, a lot of lost blood. The doctors said it was a miracle I survived.” She hadn’t felt lucky. She’d wondered why she’d lived. The depression that had followed had nearly swallowed her whole.

  “I didn’t know.”

  She nodded, focused on the ocean, on the memory of her own ghostly screams. “I know.”

  “Brooke, I would have been there—”

  “I know.” She squeezed her eyes shut so hard she saw stars. Without any doubt, she knew. Because that’s who he was. Who he’d always been. “That’s what I felt most guilty about, I think. Realizing that even after all the time that passed, even after the way I walked out on you and our baby, you would have come.”

  “You didn’t have anyone other than your parents? No friends. No—”

  “Dad’s gone. Cancer. It...wasn’t quick. Don’t worry.” She managed a weak, faltering smile. “No reason you should have known that, either. And I never really made a lot of friends. Not like the ones I had here. Not like you and...” And Frankie and Monty. The kind of friends she could spend hours with talking about nothing and everything. The kind of friends you planned futures with. Teased. Loved. The friends who would have done anything for her.

  She took a deep breath. May as well tell him the rest. “My mother didn’t even tell BethAnn about my accident, probably because she assumed BethAnn would tell you and, well, we couldn’t have that.” Oh, no. Couldn’t have the man who had gotten her teenage daughter pregnant turning up and casting a shadow on the pristine Ardell name and reputation. “When I woke up in the hospital, the only thing I could think was that I’d almost died without seeing my baby again. Not that she’s a baby anymore.” The threat of tears died as she found her strength. “It took me several months to get back on my feet. Private nurses, physical therapists, a psychiatrist who was about as useful as a shrimp fork at a buffet. But every day I had therapy, every day I managed to claw through another session, I knew I was closer to coming back to Butterfly Harbor. Closer to seeing you and my daughter again.” Like finishing the chapter of a book, and being satisfied with the ending. “When I finally got the all-clear from my doctor, I left Charleston.”

  She exhaled, feeling freer than she had in months. Years, maybe. “I know my coming back hurts you, Sebastian. I know it’s inconvenient and selfish, but let’s face it, I’ve always been both of those things.”

  “I used to hate it when you did that.” Anger sparked in his eyes when her gaze jumped to his. “You never give yourself enough, if any, credit. It’s irritating, not to mention insulting. It’s also your parents talking.”

  “I know. I’m working on it.”

  “Work harder.”

  His command made her laugh. “I meant what I said the other day, Sebastian. I don’t want anything from Mandy that she doesn’t want to give. And I have no intention of asking her to leave you or her home.

  “Mandy is and always has been yours. I just...” The ache of loneliness expanded inside her. “I just want to be a part of her life. Even if it’s a small part. Even if it’s just seeing her in town or eating at the diner, or through the window of the bookshop.”

  “All these years,” Sebastian said after a long pause. “And you’re still begging for crumbs.”

  His words stung, as did the sharpness in his gaze. The glimmer of understanding he’d offered, disappeared. “What...?”

  “This isn’t any different from when we were teenagers, Brooke. When are you going to start fighting for what you want in life?”

  “I am fighting for it,” she snapped, her face warming. “Why do you think I’m back? Why do you think I waited until my mother left the country so I could drive out here?”

  She saw the disbelief behind his gaze. Worse, she saw disappointment.

  “You’re thirty-four years old, Brooke. You’re not a teenager climbing out your bedroom window to meet me on the beach. You’re an adult, and you’re telling me you had to sneak away from your mother to live your own life?”

  “I—” She wasn’t sure where the anger was coming from, but he didn’t quite understand the circumstances. “Yes.”

  He scrubbed his hands over his face. “That’s unbelievable. It’s like the last fifteen years haven’t even happened. What about school? Did you go to college?”

  “Yes.” At least she had that going for her. Not that she’d had much choice of where. Prestigious. Torturous. She’d felt decades older than all of her fellow students and had only lasted two years before she’d dropped out. But she had been out of the house. “For a while, but...”

  His eyes narrowed. “But what?”

  “I didn’t know what I wanted to study,” she added. “My parents agreed it was a waste of time and money. I didn’t graduate. It was just easier to find a job I liked and get experience working for a family friend before—”

  “And you pushed back, of course,” he challenged. “You told them most students don’t know what they want to do at first—that that’s what college is for, to find out.”

  �
�Why are you so angry about something that doesn’t matter anymore?” What did her indecisiveness about potential careers have to do with her seeing Mandy? “None of that’s important now, Sebastian. I just want to be able to see Mandy—”

  “But you’re here waiting for me or Mandy to hand you what you want. Always letting someone tell you what you should do, what you should think. How you should feel. Forget irritating me, what kind of example is that for her?”

  “That’s not fair.” How could he be saying these things? After everything she’d just told him? “You don’t get it.”

  “No. I don’t.” Sebastian swung his legs over the wall and stood up. “And I don’t want Mandy to, either, so here’s the deal.”

  She took a long breath and released it, trying to meet his intense expression.

  “If you want to see Mandy, then you show up and tell her you want to see her. Don’t skulk around the bookstore trying to catch a glimpse. Don’t come crying to me asking for permission to see our daughter when you know darn well I’m going to give it to you. If you want a relationship with Mandy, then show her, show me, you’re willing to fight for one. If you can’t bring yourself to do that, then I suggest you get in your car, drive straight back to South Carolina and resume the life you ran away from. Again.”

  Brooke snapped her mouth shut as he spun away and left her sitting alone with only a discarded paper bag and the roaring tide for company.

  CHAPTER SIX

  MANDY WASN’T NORMALLY one to watch the clock. She loved her after-school time at the bookstore, especially on days her father ran errands. Not that she planned to make it her life’s work or anything. Cat’s Eye Bookstore was her father’s dream, not hers. Her dreams included more feathered, furry and slippery creatures. Living above a store that stocked millions of pages of dreams and escapes made for a pretty awesome upbringing, though. But today, even with the smattering of customers as a distraction and the gentle Celtic music playing over the sound system, she couldn’t settle.