The Wedding Lullaby

by Melissa McClone

  Brett had lost.

  He’d never stood a chance with Laurel.

  She may have pretended his past didn’t matter, but Laurel Worthington was no different than any of the other women he’d known. Money—make that old money—was all that mattered to her.

  “You finally realized what marrying a Davenport would do for you.” The words left a bitter taste in Brett’s mouth.

  “Marrying Henry Davenport would be like living in Disneyland.” She laughed. “It might be fun, but after a while, you’d want a break from Fantasyland.”

  “With Henry’s money, you of all people wouldn’t need a break.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Okay, this isn’t funny anymore.”

  “I’m not joking.” Brett crossed his arms over his chest. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, after all. Your mother will be thrilled with your latest catch.”

  “Unbelievable.” Glaring, Laurel slapped her palms against the granite countertop. “After everything we’ve been through, that’s what you think of me?”

  “You’re the one with her sights set on Henry.”

  “You’re way off base.” She planted her hands on her hips. “I’m doing this for us. No other reason.”

  “Yeah, right.” Brett didn’t believe her. He’d known that once but had forgotten. He gave her credit for her acting abilities. “I’m sure all of Henry’s money—”

  “Money isn’t the most important thing—”

  “Money is everything.” She’d come to Brett for a job to earn money. She was the one leaving him for…

  She was leaving him.

  His legs gave out. He fell back against the counter. His insides—his heart especially—felt as if a man-eating tiger were devouring them. A tiger with the initials LW.

  “As you’ve implied, over and over again.” Her eyes darkened. “You know, you can’t take your fortune with you.”

  “Your father did.”

  The color drained from her face. Her lower lip quivered. Staring at the flowers, she took a deep breath.

  Brett hadn’t meant to hurt her. Well, yes, he had, because she’d hurt him. He’d allowed himself to fall into her trap again. To trust her when she said she believed in him, in the two of them, in a family.

  The silence increased the tension between them, pushed them further and further apart.

  “You’re jealous,” she said finally.

  He expected her to sound angry, but she wasn’t. Her tone was sympathetic. Calm.

  Brett didn’t want her sympathy. He didn’t need it. “I’m not jealous.”

  She shook her head. “You’re still that scared little boy with patches on his jeans, peeking in the window to see how the better half lived, never realizing he was the better half. Not the people inside the big house.”

  Her disappointment in him was unmistakable, but he didn’t care what she thought. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Laurel frowned. “I feel sorry for you, Brett Matthews. You could have anything you want in the world, yet you focus on what you can’t have. Money isn’t everything. Who you are is so much more important than your net worth. I started to believe—no, I did believe—we had a chance to be a family, but I was wrong.”

  No, he’d been wrong. Utterly and completely wrong. And he was losing the most important thing in the world because of it—his child.

  Brett’s stomach burned. He felt physically ill.

  “You don’t love yourself,” she added. “How could you ever love Junior or me?”

  “I never said I loved you.”

  “No, you didn’t. How noble of you.” Tilting her chin, she stared into his eyes. “Well, I loved you, or at least I thought I did.”

  She loves me.

  A part of him wanted to grab onto her and never let go, but that was his foolish half. Brett couldn’t believe anything she said, especially a declaration of love. He glared at the flowers to keep from watching the lies roll off her tongue.

  “But love isn’t always enough.” Her voice broke. “I’d rather live in poverty than let wealth define who I am. I won’t allow you to taint my baby with your misguided beliefs about money the way my father did with me.”

  “Here.” She removed a ring from her finger and then handed it to him. “Did you know this is a real diamond?”

  The rock-sized jewel from their Reno wedding rested on his palm. “Why are you giving it to me?”

  “Because you need the money much more than I do.”

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  The door slammed, the sound echoing through the house.

  Brett stood in the entrance to the living room. The only thing that seemed to be working was his heart that somehow kept beating. His lungs were functioning, too, since air went in and out, but everything else…

  One phone call from Laurel, and Henry had come running. The man hadn’t spoken to Brett, simply carried Laurel’s suitcase out of the door. After all these years, Henry was still coming out on top. Some friend he’d turned out to be.

  Not a friend.

  That was the problem.

  Brett had never been good enough for anything other than investing Henry’s fortune. Their relationship was a working one, never a friendship.

  Emotions churned within Brett—relief at learning the truth about Laurel and dread at what the future held. No matter how he and Laurel had parted tonight, their lives would be entangled because of Junior. She would not keep his child from him. Brett would do everything in his power, no matter the effort or the cost, to be a part of Junior’s life.

  As Brett trudged to the front door, his footsteps thudded against the hardwood. He clicked the deadbolt into place, sealing the finality of Laurel’s departure. Tomorrow, he would change the locks and reset the security code. He would call his housekeeper to make sure she didn’t let Laurel or Henry into the house again.

  As he headed toward the kitchen, he stopped to flick off the light switch in the living room. Despite all the furnishings, he sensed an emptiness. Yet…

  Touches of Laurel were everywhere, from the paintings on the wall to the pillows on the sofa. He loved how she’d decorated the room, the entire house, but the reminders of her would be too much. Maybe Renee would refer him to another decorator who could redo the house from top to bottom. Brett wouldn’t go back to living the way he had. He didn’t want a place where he stored his stuff. He wanted a home. That was what Laurel had created with her decorating and her presence.

  She was gone, but that didn’t mean he had to stop doing the things he now enjoyed, like spending more time here than at the office, cooking dinner instead of eating in restaurants, and reading baby name and childcare books.

  He would be doing those things alone, but that was better than doing them with…her.

  Climbing the stairs, he straightened a photograph of himself and his mother that Laurel had hung. At the top of the stairs, he picked up one of her slippers that she must have dropped on her way out.

  The door to her room—make that the guest room—was open. He stepped inside to leave the slipper there in case she wanted it back.

  Except for the stripped bed, the room looked unused. The closet doors were opened. Only empty hangers remained. He tossed the slipper onto the floor below them.

  She was gone.

  Gone for good.

  The truth hurt more than it should.

  Something on the nightstand caught his eye. He took a closer look—a snow globe.

  His breath caught.

  It was the one he’d given to Laurel on their wedding night after seeing her admire the tacky souvenir at the chapel—a wedding gift, so to speak. He couldn’t believe she’d kept the snow globe and the ring he’d placed in his shirt pocket earlier. She’d left him two reminders of their folly in Reno, while she’d taken the most important one with her.

  Junior.

  Brett wound the snow globe. As the music played, he closed his eyes, picturing Laurel walking down the aisle to him. One day, she�
�d be doing the same with Henry….

  No, she wouldn’t.

  His eyelids flew open.

  If she’d wanted to marry Henry, why had she come to Brett in the first place? And if she were only after money, why had she given him the ring?

  Because Henry had enough money.

  No.

  What had he done? Said?

  His heart seized. A black hole spread throughout him. He’d been…

  Wrong.

  Caught up in the past and his out-of-control emotions.

  Laurel Worthington wasn’t after Henry. She was following her heart, reaching for her dream. She wanted to be a good mother, a role model for Junior. Most importantly, she wanted to do it on her own, not become a carbon copy of her mother. Laurel had shared those things with him, but he hadn’t listened. With his ears, yes, but not with his heart.

  He hadn’t heard her. Not really.

  No wonder she hadn’t wanted to marry him when she first arrived in town or now.

  He’d never given Laurel the right reasons to marry him. He’d offered her the world, but not himself.

  Not…his heart.

  Brett had been doing everything for the wrong reasons. Not only with Laurel and Junior, but throughout his entire life, too. If he’d felt sick before, that was nothing compared to the twists and knots forming inside him.

  Laurel had told him she loved him.

  Instead of believing her, he’d assumed she was lying and been cruel.

  His foolishness pressed down on him.

  Holding onto the snow globe, Brett struggled for a breath. He’d been a fool. A jealous fool.

  By clinging to the heartaches and so-called injustices of his past, he was missing out on the present and also the future. All he wanted was to be accepted and loved for who he was. Laurel had done both. But he hadn’t cared, hadn’t realized…

  Brett wound the knob on the bottom of the snow globe again. As the two doves spun around and the “Wedding March” played, he sank to the floor.

  The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

  His words mocked him.

  He’d accused Laurel of being like her mother, when he wasn’t so different from his father who’d done the wrong thing, too.

  How had that happened?

  Brett had strived to be the polar opposite of the man who’d fathered him, yet he’d failed. Failed Laurel and Junior. Being a father wasn’t only about providing income, buying things, or being a figurehead. A father also needed to support, to nurture, to love. As did a mother.

  Junior needed a mother and a father. Laurel and Brett had been half-wrong, but together, they were right. Together…

  How could he have been so stupid?

  Because he was misguided. He thought money would make him happy, but all the wealth in the world couldn’t buy the most important thing—love.

  Somehow, he needed to show Laurel what he’d learned. The question was…how?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  For most of his life, Brett had followed a plan. Not tonight. He had no plan. No strategy. Nothing but a driving desire to see Laurel.

  Now.

  So what if it was late? He’d never be able to wait until morning.

  As his car idled in front of the closed ornamental steel gates protecting the Davenport estate, he keyed in the security code he remembered from his youth. The gates opened, parting like the Red Sea, and Brett drove inside.

  Regrets assailed him.

  So many years of entering through these gates. So many years of wishing this place was his home. All this time, it had been. The above-the-garage apartment where he’d grown up was his home, the lush estate grounds and gardens his yard, but he’d been too obsessed with living in the “big house” to see how lucky he’d been to have what he did.

  The porch light illuminated the formal double-door entrance. Potted plants graced each side of the doorway.

  He pressed the doorbell. Bells chimed.

  A middle-aged woman, the housekeeper Brett assumed, opened the door.

  “I’m here to see Laurel Worthington,” he said.

  “Miss Worthington is asleep.” She slammed the door in Brett’s face.

  Not the welcome he’d expected, but he wasn’t giving up.

  He rang the bell again. No answer. Again.

  The door finally opened.

  “Evening, Brett,” Frank, the Davenports’ long-time chauffeur and handyman, said.

  Brett fought the urge to shift his feet. “You know why I’m here.”

  “I can’t let you in.”

  He wasn’t giving up. Not when his heart was at stake. “Let me talk to Henry, please.”

  “He’s retired for the evening.”

  Brett wanted to force his way in but knew better. “Henry never goes to sleep before midnight.”

  “I’m sorry, Brett.” The sincerity in Frank’s eyes was clear. “I really am.”

  “I know.” Frank had gotten old. Deep lines carved his once-unwrinkled skin. Brett thought back to the times they’d played catch or worked on cars together. But that companionship hadn’t been enough for a boy who wanted only someone like Mr. Davenport to pay attention to him. “Thanks.”

  “There’s always the old tree.” With a wink, Frank closed the door.

  Leave it to Frank to provide a way.

  Brett had forgotten guests stayed in the east wing, but he remembered climbing the oak tree. He wasn’t ten years old anymore. That was probably how old he’d been the first time he’d done this, but if he could climb the rope at the gym, he could do this.

  To reach Laurel, he’d try anything.

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  Laurel rolled over in the luxurious king-sized bed. She couldn’t get comfortable. Not with Junior doing somersaults, cartwheels, and flips in her stomach. She wanted to blame her sleeplessness on the in-utero gymnastic routine, but she couldn’t. Not when thoughts of Brett were what kept her awake.

  It was over.

  Whether she wanted to work things out didn’t matter. She couldn’t fix their problems alone. She wouldn’t want to try. And Brett…

  A vice gripped her heart.

  He was too caught up in the past. Too concerned with money to see what was important in life. The truth saddened her.

  She rested her hand on her stomach. That seemed to quiet Junior.

  Like her parents, Brett didn’t know what he was missing out on.

  Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. Brett didn’t deserve to have tears shed over him.

  That didn’t stop her heart from breaking—for her, for Brett, for their baby. The three of them would never be a family.

  But that was…

  Not okay, but the baby needed her even if Brett didn’t. She would make her own family. Her and Junior. A party of two.

  An arm or a leg passed beneath Laurel’s palm. Despite her aching heart, she marveled at the life growing inside of her. “It’s just you and me, little one. But I promise we’re going to make it.”

  She knew they would.

  Walking away from Brett proved she was different from her mother and grandmother. Laurel could have taken the easy way out, married well, and secured a comfortable life for herself and Junior.

  But she hadn’t.

  She’d left that behind the minute she’d called Henry. No, even before that—the second she gave Brett the wedding ring from Reno. Doing that hadn’t been without a great cost. Not monetary but to her heart.

  Still, she took pride in how far she’d come. She’d changed so much from the spoiled heiress who’d once been satisfied to be engaged to a man she didn’t love to a single, working, soon-to-be-mom with a hard road ahead of her. She would never go back. She didn’t want to be the old Laurel again.

  The new awareness comforted her.

  Her heart would heal.

  In time…

  A tap sounded at the window.

  A tree branch or a bird? Ignoring it, she tried counting sheep. Anything to stop the jumbl
e of thoughts racing through her brain.

  Another tap.

  She repositioned the pillow between her legs and the one under her stomach. Now to count backward from a thousand.

  A third tap.

  What was that?

  Laurel flicked on the light, crawled out of bed, and drew back the curtain. Brett’s face greeted her.

  Her jaw dropped. “What…?”

  “Open the window,” he mouthed.

  She unlatched and raised the window. “What are you doing?”

  “I was in the neighborhood—”

  “Get inside.” The brisk autumn air rushed in. Not even her flannel pajamas kept the chill away. She wrapped her arms around herself. “Before you kill yourself.”

  “I’m perfectly safe out here.” He crawled through the window and then closed it. “Used to climb this tree all the time when I was a kid.”

  Stunned at his appearance, she studied him. He was still wearing his tailored suit. Armani or Brioni, she guessed. He’d ripped one of the knees. The least he could have done was put on jeans or sweats if he was going to be climbing trees.

  One part of her wanted to tell him to leave. She didn’t want to hear why he was here, but the other…

  Curiosity won out. “Why didn’t you come through the front door like normal people do?”

  “They wouldn’t let me in.”

  She could imagine who “they” were. Henry had only the best of intentions, but he could go overboard. Though she’d told him she never wanted to see Brett again, so Henry was following her request.

  “I had to see you,” Brett spoke quickly, the words falling from his mouth.

  As he gazed into her eyes, her stomach fluttered. Didn’t matter. Nothing could change what had happened earlier. Reliving the pain of what he’d said…

  Laurel couldn’t go through that again. She raised her chin. “You’ve seen me, now go.”

  “Please—”

  “I can’t do this.” Ignoring the pleading tone of his voice was hard to do, but she had no choice. Looking out for herself and Junior was her priority. “Not now. Maybe not ever.”

  “I’m sorry for what I said.” He stepped toward her. “Please let me make it up to you.”