Driftwood Cottage

by Sherryl Woods

  Why did the man have to look so darn good, even with his thick hair mussed and his rumpled clothes apparently plucked from the back of his closet, most likely left over from high school? It was one thing for him to turn her head when he was clean-shaven and wearing Armani. It was quite another to have her heart catch when he’d taken zero care with his appearance. It was just one more reminder that it was the man and his charm, not anything else, that had captivated her.

  She tried to hide her reaction by turning quickly to one of the students in her newly organized quilting class to answer a question. Bree’s sister-in-law, Connie, and Abby’s sister-in-law, Laila, had been two of the first to sign up for the class, and Heather sensed they were going to become friends well beyond the fact that they were part of the same huge extended O’Brien family. They’d lingered after class with a barrage of questions.

  Connie seemed to sense Heather’s sudden distraction, turned and caught sight of Connor in the doorway.

  “Well, well, look who’s here,” she taunted, then started laughing as Connor actually came inside. “Looks as if somebody got more Easter egg dye on himself than on the eggs.”

  Heather followed the direction of her gaze and noted that Connor’s T-shirt did indeed look as if it had been tiedyed by an amateur…or a pair of tiny hands. There was a streak of bright blue dye on his cheek, too. His hair, normally carefully groomed, stood up in spikes with the occasional wayward curl. Once more she noted that he looked charmingly rumpled and devastatingly sexy.

  “Happy Easter, Connor,” Laila said, then grinned. “I wish somebody would tuck a man like you in my Easter basket tomorrow morning.”

  Connie nudged her in the ribs. “Watch it! He’s taken.” She cast a warning look in Heather’s direction.

  “Actually, he’s not,” Heather said mildly, taking her son from his arms.

  “Hey, I never said I wanted Connor,” Laila protested. “I said I wanted a man like him.” A grin spread. “But minus the flaws.”

  Heather noted that Connor’s cheeks were flushed, even though he’d obviously known both women for most of his life, was indirectly related to them, and had to be used to their teasing.

  “Hey, let’s not be passing me around like some old football, ladies,” he grumbled. “I have feelings. Let’s talk about your love lives for a minute.”

  “Sadly, I have none,” Laila said, then brightened. “Maybe you could bring home a couple of your lawyer friends one of these days. We need some hot new blood in this town, right, Connie?”

  “That would definitely work for me,” Connie confirmed.

  Connor’s gaze landed on Heather. “And you?”

  “I know your colleagues,” she said, holding his gaze. “I’m not interested.” She turned to Laila and Connie. “Boring workaholics.”

  “Ah, been there, done that,” Laila said with regret. “Well, I’d better take off. I promised Abby and Trace I’d watch the girls tonight so they can have an evening to themselves.”

  “And I have to get home before Jenny goes out on her date,” Connie said. “Even though her curfew hasn’t changed in two years, if I don’t repeat it ten times before she leaves the house, she’ll claim she didn’t remember. Then we get to fight over whether she should be grounded for being late.”

  “See you next Saturday,” Heather called after them, watching ruefully as they left her alone with Connor.

  “Watch it with those two,” Connor told her, a grin tugging at his lips. “They’ll fill your head with all of my youthful misdeeds.”

  “I pretty much know everything I need to know about you,” Heather replied. “I doubt they could say anything to sway me for or against.” She studied him curiously. “Did you ever date either one of them?”

  His gaze locked with hers. “Would it bother you if I had?” he asked, almost sounding hopeful.

  “No, I’m just wondering. They’re both beautiful, intelligent women.”

  “They are,” he agreed. “But Connie’s a few years older, and by the time I was dating, she was already pretty serious about the man she eventually married.”

  “They’re divorced now,” Heather reminded him.

  “A single mother with a teenage daughter’s not going to be interested in me,” he said candidly. “Besides, Jake would beat the living daylights out of me if I led his sister on. Ditto with Trace. He’s very protective of Laila. Both of my brothers-in-law know how I feel about marriage. They’d definitely object to me getting involved with either of their sisters.”

  “You know what I don’t understand,” she said, carrying the now-sleeping Mick into the back room and settling him into his portable playpen, “How can you spend time with Jake and Bree, Trace and Abby, Kevin and Shanna and even your parents, and not see how happy they are?”

  “I can’t deny they appear to be happy now,” Connor admitted, surprising her.

  “Really?”

  Then he had to go and ruin it by adding, “But it won’t last. It never does. Besides, appearances can be deceiving. Look at all the years my folks made each other miserable. The world thought they were just fine, and then it all blew up and my mom walked away.”

  “And yet somehow you thought you and I could go on forever, as long as we didn’t legalize it,” she said. “Can’t you see how absurd that is?”

  “Maybe it doesn’t make any sense to you, but I can’t change how I feel,” he said defensively. This time he put a halt to the topic. “Look, Gram wanted me to be sure you’re coming for Easter dinner tomorrow. Will you be there?”

  Heather thought of how wonderful it felt being part of that big, rambunctious family, especially on holidays, but it was wrong. She wasn’t an O’Brien, and keeping up the pretense that she was hurt too much. She’d learned that on Connor’s prior visit.

  “I think tomorrow little Mick and I will spend Easter on our own,” she said.

  Connor’s gaze narrowed. “Because of me,” he guessed. “Look, please don’t stay away and keep little Mick from being there to hunt for eggs with his cousins. If it’ll make you more comfortable, I’ll go back to Baltimore in the morning. No one was expecting me to be here this weekend, anyway. It won’t be a big deal if I take off.”

  “Absolutely not. This is your family, and you should spend the holiday with them. I’m the one who doesn’t belong.”

  “That’s not true,” he argued. “You’ve come to mean a lot to all of them, especially my parents. And our son should be there.”

  He held her gaze. “Please, Heather. Don’t let me chase you away.”

  She sighed and relented, though not without real regret. Every time she saw him, it was now clear it was going to reopen old wounds. “Okay, we’ll come as long as we don’t chase you away, either.”

  Connor regarded her with relief. “Fine. I’ll be there, too.” He pulled a stool over to the counter, sat down and studied her with an intense expression. “You know what I don’t get?”

  She regarded him with amusement. “What’s that?”

  “We were together for years. I thought we knew each other inside out, that we could talk about anything. Now we can barely be in the same room without things turning awkward.”

  “That’s what happens when people break up, Connor. Some manage to reestablish the relationship on new ground. Others don’t. Even the ones who pull off becoming friends take some time to do it. Can you imagine some of the couples whose divorces you’ve handled sitting down for a holiday meal with the whole family?”

  “Not a chance,” he admitted with a rueful grin. “Right now, for instance, I’m handling the Clint Wilder divorce. I’m not sure I’d want to have a meal with him. I can’t even imagine how his wife must feel.”

  Heather regarded him with shock. “You actually recognize that she has a right to be furious about what he did?”

  “Well, of course I do.”

  “And yet from what I read in the paper, you seem to think she’s going to get very little in the divorce settlement.”

&
nbsp; “You’re following the tabloids?” he asked, looking startled. “That’s not your usual reading material.”

  She shrugged. “I couldn’t miss it when I was standing in line at the checkout counter. A very compromising picture of Wilder and the other woman was splashed all over the front page. I recognized the name and had a feeling you’d be involved since he’s been living in Baltimore.”

  His lips curved into a satisfied smile. “You checked it out because of me?”

  “Don’t let it go to your head. Of course I was curious.” The truth was, a feeling of dread had settled over her when she’d looked for Connor’s name in the article. Finding him linked to the messy divorce was one more depressing example of the kind of choices Connor was making in his career, the sort of people by whom he was surrounded.

  “And you don’t approve?” he said, his tone suddenly flat.

  “It’s not up to me to approve or disapprove,” she said.

  “But you do have an opinion, and I’m sure I can guess what it is. You think I’m working for one more sleazy guy who’s trying to get out of a marriage without paying for the consequences of his actions.”

  She saw no reason to deny it. “Aren’t you?”

  “Heather, you’re not my conscience,” he retorted.

  “Believe me, I know that. Didn’t I just say it wasn’t up to me to approve or disapprove?”

  He sighed. “And yet your opinion still matters to me,” he admitted. As if he hated having made the admission, he held up his hands to ward off a response. “I’d better take off now. Gram wants my help tonight. She’s cooking a ham down at her cottage and she wants me to carry it up to the house.”

  Heather considered trying to stop him, trying to make him understand her point of view, but she knew it was pointless. They’d had the same conversation too many times before and it almost always ended the same way…in a bitter standoff. Even when she thought she’d gotten through to him, his choices proved she’d wasted her breath.

  “See you tomorrow, then,” she said, instead.

  As soon as he’d gone, she locked the shop door behind him, then gathered up little Mick and took him upstairs to their apartment to face another lonely evening. It didn’t help knowing that it didn’t have to be this way. If only she were willing to compromise on what she wanted, she could be with Connor tonight and every night for the foreseeable future.

  As tempting as that was, though, she knew it would never be enough without a real commitment for a lifetime. And she simply had to accept that such a commitment was something he was incapable of making.

  An hour later, Heather had fed little Mick and put him down for the night when her phone rang. To her surprise, it was Connie.

  “I hope I didn’t wake your son,” she said. “I was sitting here feeling sorry for myself now that Jenny’s out of the house for the evening, and thought you might be feeling a little blue, too. Bumping into Connor all the time can’t be easy.”

  “It’s awful,” Heather said at once, then sighed. “And wonderful.”

  “Oh, sweetie—do I remember what that’s like!” Connie said sympathetically. “When Jenny’s dad and I first split up, it was some kind of torture every time I saw him at the gas station or in the grocery store. It does get better, I promise. Of course, in my case, it helped that he eventually moved to Michigan, where now, if God is truly good, he is freezing his butt off at least ten months of the year and thoroughly miserable.”

  “Not that you give a hoot,” Heather said with a laugh.

  “Not even a tiny one,” Connie said. “I really called to see if you’d like to grab a pizza or something. I can come over there if you don’t want to wake little Mick and bring him out.”

  “I would love the company,” Heather said at once, relieved not to be facing another lonely night. “I’ll call and order the pizza.”

  “Don’t bother. I’ll pick it up on my way. Do you have sodas or wine, or should I get that, too?”

  “I have diet sodas, but no wine.”

  “That works for me. See you soon.”

  Heather started straightening up her apartment, only to have the phone ring again. It turned out to be Bree, Connie’s sister-in-law and Connor’s sister.

  “What are you up to?” Bree asked. “I know Connor’s in town, so I thought you might need cheering up.”

  “I see the family grapevine is alive and well,” Heather said wryly. The O’Brien grapevine worked faster than the internet.

  “Of course. Truthfully, though, I was looking for something to do. Jake’s painting the nursery tonight, and he doesn’t want me breathing in the paint fumes. I swear, it’s a good thing this baby is due in less than a month, because I’m not sure how much longer I can handle the way he hovers over me.”

  Heather chuckled. “I think it’s sweet. You should have seen your brother when I was pregnant with our baby. Even though he was swamped with work he’d bring home from the office, I’d catch him staring at me as if he was afraid my belly was going to pop open. And the night I actually did go into labor, he was such a wreck I almost had to drive myself to the hospital.”

  “Oh, just wait till I see him,” Bree gloated. “I am so going to hold that over his head. Anyway, if you’re not busy, I thought I’d drop by.”

  “Come on over,” Heather said at once. “Connie’s picking up pizza. I’m sure there will be enough for one more.”

  “Have you seen the way I eat these days?” Bree asked. “I’ll call her on her cell phone and tell her to pick up two.”

  “See you soon, then.”

  When she hung up, Heather couldn’t seem to stop the smile that spread across her face. For the first time practically since college, she was making friends. Okay, Bree was Connor’s sister, so that was probably a little risky. Connie had O’Brien in-law status through Jake’s marriage to Bree. Still, these were women whose company she could enjoy, women who clearly understood the emotional roller coaster she’d been on.

  “This is good,” she murmured as she put ice into tall glasses and poured their sodas.

  And for the first time since moving to Chesapeake Shores, she truly felt as if she were not just launching a business, but settling into a community that would be home.

  When Heather answered the first knock on her door, she found not only Bree, but Jake.

  “He insisted on walking me up the stairs to be sure I got here okay,” Bree explained, exaggerated disgust in her voice but a telltale glint of delight in her eyes.

  “Stop complaining, little mama,” Jake said. “Until this kid of ours is out here in the world where I can look out for him directly, the two of you are a package deal. Get used to it.”

  Bree scowled at him. “Does that mean all the attention will shift to the baby as soon as he or she is born? Am I just some sort of incubator to you?”

  He fought unsuccessfully to stop a grin. “I thought that’s what you wanted, to be free from my hovering. I heard you say that very thing not ten minutes ago.”

  Heather held up a hand. “Truce, you two. The goal is a happy, healthy baby and a contented mother, am I right?”

  “Yes,” they agreed at once.

  “Ah, unity. It’s a blessed thing,” Heather said, then nudged Jake toward the door when he showed no inclination to leave. “Your sister and I will take very good care of her for the next couple of hours. Go, paint, have a beer and relax.”

  Reluctantly, Jake backed away. “You need me, you call, okay?” he said to Bree just as his sister climbed the steps with the two big pizza boxes. He sniffed the air. “Or I could stick around.”

  Connie stared him down. “Do you really want to tell your friends that you spent Saturday night at a chicks’ gabfest? I brought my DVD of Love Story. Think about your image, little brother.”

  He groaned at the mention of the guaranteed tearjerker movie. “I’m out of here.” He still couldn’t seem to tear himself away. He stepped back inside and kissed Bree. “Call when you’re ready to come home.”r />
  “I’ll drop her off,” Connie said.

  Jake looked uncertain.

  “I promise she’ll be in one piece,” Connie said impatiently. “Now get out of here, or I will start to tell embarrassing stories about you that even your wife doesn’t know!”

  That finally got him out of the apartment.

  Bree sank onto the sofa. “I do love that man, but I need breathing room.”

  “Just wait till you need him to help with the middle of the night feedings and the dirty diapers,” Connie predicted. “You’ll have trouble figuring out where he’s hiding.”

  Heather thought back to the early days at home with little Mick. Connor had handled his share of feedings. “Actually Connor was amazing about that kind of thing,” she said as she bit into the still-steaming pizza. After chewing thoughtfully, she added, “Maybe it helped that he was usually burning the midnight oil going over case files, but I can’t tell you how many times I found him half-asleep in a chair with a file in one hand and the baby sleeping on his chest.”

  “And the diapers?” Bree asked skeptically.

  “He changed his share.”

  Connie regarded her incredulously. “And yet you still left him?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she looked chagrined. “Sorry. None of my business.”

  “It’s okay,” Heather told her. “Sometimes I wonder if I was out of my mind, too.”

  “Well, Connor is my brother and I love him to pieces,” Bree said as she plucked another slice of pizza from the box, “but I get why you did what you did. Marriage matters. It means something when two people stand in front of a priest or a judge and say, ‘I do.’”

  “It certainly should,” Connie agreed, sipping her soda. “Of course, when I got married, all it meant to my husband was that he was buying into a permanent cooking and cleaning service. Jenny required too much of my time and attention.” She shook her head. “He was a selfish pig. How I’d missed that is beyond me.”

  “As great a believer as I am in love,” Bree said, “I think we all delude ourselves sometimes and see what we want to see in a man. Look at the mistake I made with my so-called mentor at the regional theater in Chicago. I convinced myself he was madly in love with me, when he was really in love with the sound of his own voice. I was just his adoring audience.” She looked chagrined. “To think I could have lost Jake forever for a man like that.”