by Mollie Molay
Sean cast a surly glance at T.J., then, to T.J.’s annoyance, turned his back on him. “I had a hell of a time finding you, Emily. I thought you were going to call me so we could make some plans about our wedding.”
“I was in a hurry to leave the hotel.” Emily answered with a glance at T.J. “How did you know where to find me?”
“After I told your lawyer’s secretary I was your fiancé, she told me where to find you. She also told me you were married and had your husband with you.” He glowered at T.J. “I set her straight. Is this the guy she was talking about?”
“T.J., this is Sean Foster,” she said to Tom, ignoring Sean’s question. “A man I used to know.”
“Used to know?” Sean sputtered. “Engaged to, is more like it.”
“Were engaged,” Emily said firmly. “But that’s over and done with. I’m sorry, I should have told you we were through before I checked out at the Beaumont.”
“Like hell!”
T.J. took a threatening step toward Sean.
“So, who is this guy?” he sneered. “The husband?”
“A friend. A good friend.”
“A friend?” Sean echoed suggestively. “That’s not what I heard. Hell, I heard you’ve already spent the night together. We have to talk somewhere private.”
“There’s nothing more to talk about, Sean. I’m not about to change my mind.”
T.J. fought to keep his cool for Emily’s sake, but it wasn’t easy. He sure as hell didn’t like the sexual innuendo or the proprietary way Sean looked at Emily. He added Sean to the list of people who riled the hell out of him. A list headed by Daniels and now Daniels’s secretary, Maggie. From the way it sounded, she was ready to give away Emily’s current whereabouts to anyone who’d asked for it. All the more reason to persuade Emily to let him move in with her.
Sean bit his lower lip and shot daggers at T.J. “We still have to talk.”
Emily shook her head. “Go home, Sean. Go home and forget me.”
T.J. wasn’t surprised to hear Emily tell her ex-fiancé off. But he was surprised she hadn’t gone on to tell the guy about his own marriage proposal. Hadn’t she believed him when he’d told her he loved her and wanted to be her husband?
Sean pierced T.J. with a sour look that made T.J.’s fists curl. “In case you have any ideas about making this ‘husband’ of yours a real one, maybe you’d better think again. Just what do you know about this guy?”
“Enough to know T.J. is an honest man. Someone I can depend on.”
T.J. felt like a heel. How honest was he when he was masquerading as his brother? And hiding this discovery of the movie posters—at least for now? The answer was clear. He wasn’t.
Emily tossed the unfinished paper cone of cotton candy into a trash container, scaring away a pair of hungry seagulls. “My relationship with T.J. has nothing to do with you. As for our engagement, it was over the day you walked out on me.”
Sean flushed at the reminder.
T.J. smothered an urge to hit him.
With a baleful look, Sean turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd.
T.J. bit back a comment when he saw a sad look on Emily’s face as she gazed after Sean. He realized she wasn’t the type of person to willingly hurt anyone, and she was vulnerable enough to be hurt herself. He hated himself even more than ever. If anyone needed to talk straight to Emily, it was him.
But not tonight. There was no use in ruining the carnival. Not when tonight was the first night of his and Emily’s new relationship. Tonight belonged to himself and Emily.
He noticed an ersatz gondolier dressed in a red-and-green-striped T-shirt, black pants and a wide-brimmed black sailor’s hat hustling business. The man might not be the real thing and the canal only a sorry imitation of the canals in Italy, but they were better than nothing. At least the gondolas had been decorated with red and green flags and balloons and looked real enough.
The stars shining overhead had to be as beautiful as the stars shining over Italy, he mused as he looked up at the sky. And, miracle of miracles, the gondolier began to sing an Italian love song.
Suddenly, a series of fireworks shot into the air. While he watched, streaks of light arched across the darkening horizon and burst into sprays of multicolored stars. He glanced at Emily’s wistful expression. “Gondola ride, Em?”
The words seemed to be magic; Emily came to life. Her blossoming smile brought a smile to his heart. “This was your wish, wasn’t it, Em?”
She nodded happily. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“Didn’t you ever take gondola rides here before?” He fingered one of the red ribbons in her moonlight-lit hair. What he really wanted to do was to take her home where he could hold her, make love to her and make her forget the Seans of the world. A place where he could make her believe they were the only two people in the universe. A place where no one would ever hurt her again, including him. First, he had to make tonight’s dream come true.
“Oh yes. At carnival time with my aunt. But even at twelve, I knew it would be more exciting and certainly more romantic if I were in a gondola with the man I love.”
“Then, I’m your man,” he called to the gondolier to hold up.
The smiling gondolier handed Emily into the swaying craft. T.J. left their packages on the canal’s edge and gingerly followed her into the long, narrow vessel, curved at both ends. With a wink and a flourish, the gondolier handed T.J. a light knit throw to put over their laps then stationed himself on a wooden slat at the rear of the small vessel. At a push with a long wooden paddle, the gondola began to glide through the dark, blue-green salt water flowing into the canal from the ocean. Overhead, the stars twinkled. The gondolier burst into a new love song.
T.J. put an arm around Emily and drew her close. “Happy?”
Emily curled her fingers through his. “I always knew it could be like this,” she said contentedly. “But back then I thought that if this ever happened, it would have to be in another time and place and maybe, another lifetime. Maybe in Italy.”
“Why Italy, why not here?” T.J. nuzzled Emily’s sweet-smelling hair and hugged her close. It seemed to him that he fell more in love with Emily with every passing moment and that he’d never felt so contented, so at peace with himself as now.
“Because Sean didn’t believe in fairy tales.”
“The guy must be missing a few of his marbles,” T.J. muttered. What man could resist believing in fairy tales when they were the dreams of a woman he supposedly loved?
“Maybe. He said they were fairy tales and that fairy tales were for children.”
“Forget him,” T.J. whispered, and turned her head up to meet his. “You have me now. I swear I not only believe in fairy tales, I believe in you.”
He captured her lips as they glided under a bridge. When she put her arms around his neck and fervently kissed him back, he heard the gondolier murmur, “bravissimo.”
Emily knew even fairy tales had to have an ending, but the gondola ride to the end of the canal and back was over too soon to suit her. The mystical experience had been a dream come true, she thought as T.J. paid the gondolier and added a generous tip. Just as T.J. had been the perfect partner to share the dream.
Dreams should have happy endings, but she knew that sooner or later she would have to face reality.
The last two weeks, since she’d “bought” Tom at an auction had been full of surprises. Moving into the cottage had brought back memories that stirred her very soul and awakened the woman in her. She’d not only fallen in love with him, she was thinking of moving in with him. An idea so unlike her.
Everything had happened so quickly, she knew she had to have time to sort out her thoughts.
“Home again?” T.J. murmured. He put his arm around her shoulders to shelter her from the damp air coming across the ocean. “We could take up where we left off. I’d love to wake up in the morning with you in my arms.”
Moving in together would be a giant step. Firs
t, she had to make certain it would be not only for tonight but for tomorrow and always. She couldn’t settle for less.
Before she could answer, Sean moved back into view.
“Look, Emily. Maybe I came across like gangbusters before and I’m sorry. I’ve come back to apologize.” He glanced warily at T.J. “I’d still like to talk to you alone.”
“You can come back to the cottage for coffee, if you like,” she said with an apologetic glance at T.J. “But…”
No sooner were the words out of her mouth, than T.J. had stepped between her and Sean.
“Not on your life!” he said. “What’s the point, anyway?”
“The point, Mr. Kirkpatrick,” Sean spat, “is that Emily and I go back a long way. I have the right to talk to her. As far as I can tell, she’s only known you for a few weeks, if that long.”
“How long we’ve known each other has nothing to do with it!” T.J. answered. “You had your chance, and you blew it!”
“At least I didn’t go around telling everyone I was Emily’s husband,” Sean rejoined. “What’s the matter, are you after her inheritance?”
T.J. was almost speechless. Sure as hell, he was guilty of pretending to be Emily’s husband, but not by choice. He’d only intended to do Emily a favor after his brother had lit out on her, hadn’t he? Falling in love with Emily had been serendipitous, and he didn’t intend to apologize to anyone. As far as being after her inheritance, the idea was ridiculous.
“That’s none of your business,” he answered, his fists curled. “Get lost!”
Emily elbowed her way between the two men. Her heart told her T.J. did love her, but he was practically a stranger. All the more reason for taking time out to sort through her thoughts.
“That’s enough! The idea of both of you fighting over me is ludicrous and I won’t put up with it. Sean, go home and don’t come back.”
When Sean turned on his heel and stomped off, Emily turned to T.J. “I’m sorry, T.J. All of this nonsense has given me a raging headache. Why don’t we call it a night?”
Chapter Thirteen
After a sleepless night, Emily’s heart still ached. Not because T.J. and Sean had argued over her, or the look on T.J.’s face when she’d said good-night, but because Sean had been right about her not knowing T.J.
She knew T.J. had been adopted after an unhappy early childhood. That he was a partner in a building restoration firm bearing his name. That he was a romantic lover and was a believer in dreams, including hers.
He also was thirty-something with a smile that most women would kill for and yet had still managed to remain single. A man who’d admitted he hadn’t believed in or considered marriage until he met her, she mused unhappily as she showered and dressed. But was that enough?
Considering one man had already jilted her for a more desirable woman, she found it difficult to believe T.J. loved her enough to marry her after knowing her for two weeks.
Although she’d managed to fall in love with him, his abrupt change of mind had continued to bother her, even before Sean’s parting comment. How could she love a man who’d confessed to avoiding lasting relationships? How could she be sure he wouldn’t change his mind again?
More to the point, she asked herself as she shrugged into a blue linen pantsuit, had she fallen in love with the real man, or a fantasy man she’d created?
The sound of T.J.’s phone, which he’d left behind, awakened her from her musings.
“Em?”
“Yes.” The sound of T.J.’s deep voice and use of her pet name sent a warmth coursing through her. She forgot the questions she wanted to ask.
“I just got a message that Daniels is back in town and wants to meet with us today. I knew you wanted to get things over with, so I called ahead for an appointment. Say, about two o’clock. Is that okay with you?”
“I’ll be ready.” She said goodbye and clicked off the cell phone. The sooner she put the business of her inheritance behind her, the sooner she could get on with her life. Perhaps, even a life without the man she loved.
She’d wandered onto the cottage porch when T.J. drove up. Instead of his weathered pickup, he was driving a new silver Lexus. His appearance, as he strode toward her, had changed. From the casual jeans, T-shirt and sweater of yesterday, he was wearing beige linen slacks and a jacket over a silk short-sleeved olive shirt. His shoes were brown slip-ons instead of sturdy leather boots.
He looked all male, dressed to kill and ready for business. His gaze was polite, but she missed the twinkle in his eyes and his ready smile. He was the man who had made her come alive, made her believe they had a future together. For all that, he was a man she really didn’t know.
“Ready?”
She nodded, took her purse from off the swing and locked the cottage door behind her. There was no use in remembering the wonderful way he’d made love to her. No use in thinking about a future with him. It was safer to stick to business for now.
T.J. was silent on their way to the lawyer’s office, but as far as he was concerned, his relationship with Emily was unfinished business. He just had to find a way make her believe him.
To add to his mental turmoil, Emily hadn’t answered him about their moving in together. The way things were stacking up now, his chances were slim to none.
He wasn’t a man to quit when he believed in something.
The faint scent of lavender that clung to Emily’s clothing turned his thoughts to the night they’d spent together. He’d been left breathless by her uninhibited response and wanted more before he’d take a break. Deep in his soul, he wanted to share her life, her hopes, her dreams. To spend the rest of his life making both their dreams come true.
He glanced over at Emily. The unhappy look on her face mirrored his own troubled thoughts. After he’d gotten the message Daniels had called, his sixth sense had warned him there was big trouble brewing. The only consolation he took from the moment was knowing that since he was already in deep trouble, there was nowhere to go but up.
The drive from the beach to Daniels’s downtown office took twenty-five minutes, but to T.J., it was more like a lifetime. He’d needed to talk to Emily, to explain one more time, he was a changed man since he’d met her. That he wasn’t Tim, and to persuade her the past wasn’t going to get in the way of their future.
He pulled into the underground parking lot of the cold marble building. What awaited him upstairs?
Maggie, Daniels’s secretary, greeted them with a wide-eyed too-innocent look. “Go right in, Mr. Kirkpatrick. Mr. Daniels is waiting for you.”
T.J. smothered a curse. His premonition something was wrong was right on the button or Maggie wouldn’t have been so formal. He strode into the office with Emily at his back.
Daniels rose from his large mahogany desk, a studied smile on his face. T.J. ignored his outstretched hand. After what Noel had told him about Daniels’s reputation, he wasn’t about to be friendly. “Let’s get on with it!”
Daniels dropped his hand and gestured to the two leather armchairs in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat.”
With a cool glance at Daniels, Emily sat down. T.J. sat down beside her.
“Before we start, Miss Holmes,” the lawyer said amiably. “Are you sure you want Mr. Kirkpatrick to remain here?” She nodded.
“Then let’s begin. I want to inform you that while I was away my staff did some research into your aunt’s property.”
T.J. started. “What kind of research?”
Emily stared at the lawyer. “Does that include prowling around the cottage and questioning neighbors?”
Daniels shrugged. “Research of all kinds is part of the business to insure the proper transfer of estates.”
“I’ve done some research of my own, Mr. Daniels.” She added quietly. “I have it on good authority that, since I am my aunt’s sole legal survivor, the property is mine. Married or not.”
T.J. admired Emily’s direct challenge, especially when the lawyer’s face registered
anger. The guy might think he was clever, but he wasn’t wise enough to understand vulnerable people weren’t stupid. Just trusting.
“Of course,” Daniels answered smoothly with a quick glance at T.J. “As an old friend of your Aunt Emily’s, I was merely trying to honor her last wish to see to it you were protected.”
Emily looked surprised. “I never knew that you were a friend of hers. Aunt Emily never mentioned you.”
T.J. read Emily’s expression, even if Daniels didn’t. If the lawyer had been such a good friend of her late aunt, why was he trying to put one over on Emily?
Daniels frowned. “Indeed,” he answered coolly. “Actually, we knew each other off and on for many years. I’m sure that’s why she asked me to handle her will. The marriage provision was inserted because she felt if you were married at the time she passed away, there would be no chance of some fortune hunter latching on to you.” He glanced meaningfully at T.J., then back at Emily.
T.J. shot forward in his seat. “Watch it, Daniels. I might have riled up a person or two in my career, but I’ve never been called a fortune hunter.”
Emily smiled wearily, rubbed her forehead and reached into her purse for a roll of peppermints. “Mr. Daniels, Aunt Emily told me many times that she wished I was married, so the clause didn’t come as a surprise. Although I doubt that a seventy-year-old cottage would be considered a fortune.”
Daniels sat back in his executive chair and smiled. T.J. was tempted to wipe the smile off his face. “Maybe, maybe not. But first things first, my dear. Are we all agreed that you and Mr. Kirkpatrick are not man and wife?”
T.J. met Daniels’ gaze. “You know damn well we’re not. Why bother to ask?”
Daniels held up the business card T.J. had given to Maggie. “Are you or are you not T. J. Kirkpatrick? Thomas Jefferson Kirkpatrick?”
T.J. tensed for what was coming next. Damn! He’d intended to tell Emily the truth today, but it was too late.
