“Well, she couldn’t very well not invite him to spend the holiday here,” Megan said. “Bree’s incapable of being downright rude to anyone and he doesn’t know anyone else in town. Besides, I think she had an ulterior motive. She even admitted as much to me.”
“What motive was that?” Mick asked skeptically.
“To prove to Jake that he’s the one she cares about,” Nell guessed.
“Exactly,” Megan confirmed.
“That’s insane,” Mick declared. “Jake walked in, took one look at him and walked right out again. Can’t say I blame him either, so what exactly did Bree accomplish besides giving the rest of us indigestion?”
Nell had been silent up until now, but she gave him a scolding look. “I think we all know where Bree’s heart is, but she and Jake have to reach that conclusion on their own. They don’t need us meddling.”
“I agree,” Megan said, staring pointedly at Mick.
“Okay, okay, I won’t interfere, but I can’t swear that one of these days I won’t go over to the inn and kick that man’s butt myself. He’s tempting fate by sticking around here.”
“Perhaps you and Megan need to work on your own relationship, rather than meddling in your daughter’s,” Nell suggested. She stood up and added, “And that’s all I intend to say about that.” To prove her good intentions, she took her tea and left them alone.
“She has a point,” Megan said after Nell had gone. “I worry sometimes that we’re raising everyone’s expectations about the two of us. Maybe we shouldn’t spend so much time together here, when we haven’t decided anything.”
Mick scowled. “What are you suggesting, that we call things off?”
“No, I’m not saying that at all,” she said hurriedly. “It’s just that I’ve been here several times in recent months. We act more or less as if I’m part of the family again.”
“You are part of the family,” Mick said emphatically. “Being divorced doesn’t change that.”
“Come on, Mick,” she chided. “You know what I’m talking about. One of these days our children are going to assume that we’re getting back together.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“It’s not a sure thing.”
He bristled at that. “You saying this is all some game to you?”
Now her cheeks were flushed. The sign of embarrassment became her, he thought.
“You know perfectly well that’s not the case,” she said with a little huff of indignation. “I’m just saying that we haven’t talked about the future. We don’t have any plans. We’re drifting along, taking things one day at a time, which is as it should be. I’m just saying maybe it would be better if we drifted in private. We could go on seeing each other in New York, if that’s what you want, just not here where they might get their hopes up.”
Mick lost patience. “Meggie, you’re being ridiculous. These aren’t little kids we’re talking about. They’re adults. They know the score. We’re taking our time, being certain we get it right. I’m sure they can appreciate that.”
“Intellectually, I’m sure you’re right,” she said. “But emotionally, that’s another story.”
He studied her intently. “You sure you’re not the one worried about getting your hopes up? Maybe this craziness doesn’t have anything to do with our children at all.”
She blinked at the suggestion, then sighed heavily. “You could be right. Maybe I am scared. Can you blame me? I thought our marriage was going to last a lifetime. It didn’t. Why should I believe we’ll be together forever this time?”
“Because we’ve both matured,” Mick said at once. “I know what I did to you by staying away so much. I even accept my share of the blame for you turning to another man, however innocently that happened. And I think you’ve seen that you picked the wrong way to go about getting my attention. We won’t make mistakes like that again. At least I won’t.”
“I won’t, either,” she said quietly.
“Then there’s every chance in the world we’ll get it right this time.”
“Is that what you really want, Mick? Do you want to start over?”
He stared at her blankly. “I thought that’s what we’ve been doing, starting fresh, testing the waters, whatever you want to call it. You in a rush to get married all of a sudden?”
She met his gaze. “I think I might be,” she admitted, catching him off guard and taking his breath away. “I want this back, Mick. You, the kids, mornings just like this one, all of it. Sometimes it scares me how much I want it.”
Mick wanted the same thing, had been fighting for it all these months, but to his surprise he was less willing to grab it immediately. It was going to take time for him to trust what they had, to make amends for the ways he’d failed her. She might believe he’d done both of those things, but he hadn’t.
He reached across the table and took her hand in his. It was still as soft and smooth as it had been the first time he’d held it.
“All those things,” he said, gazing into her eyes. “I want that, too.”
“Then why wait?”
“I want you to know with a hundred percent certainty that I’ve changed,” he began, but she didn’t let him finish.
“That’s not it,” she said wearily, withdrawing her hand. “You still don’t trust me, do you, Mick? You can’t forget that when I grew disillusioned with us I turned to another man for company. Even though I never betrayed our vows, never had an affair with him, you can’t get past the fact that I enjoyed his company on a couple of occasions.”
“It’s a reality I have to come to terms with,” he agreed. “I’ve forgiven, but I haven’t forgotten.”
She blanched at that. “What makes you think you ever will?”
“Because I love you. This isn’t about you proving something to me. It’s about me proving to you that you will never have any reason to need another man in your life, that I will be here for you. Believe me, I want more than anything to leave the past where it belongs. The only way I know how to get to that point is to give it time.”
“What if we don’t have enough, Mick?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.
He went around the table and pulled her into his arms. “Oh, Meggie, we will. That much I do know.”
She buried her face in his chest and let the tears flow. Mick’s shirt was soaked when she finally pulled away. “I love you, Mick O’Brien.”
“And I love you, my precious girl.”
God help them both to believe that love alone would be enough.
Thanksgiving with the O’Briens had been an abbreviated nightmare. Jake had walked in to discover Marty already ensconced in the living room, boring everyone to tears with tales of all his theatrical successes. Ignoring the sympathetic looks from Mick, Connor and Trace, Jake had continued straight to the kitchen, where he found Bree with her mother and grandmother, Abby and Jess.
“Why is he here?” he’d demanded in an undertone after pulling Bree aside. “Did you invite him?”
“I couldn’t leave him all alone at the inn,” she said.
“Actually, you could have,” he retorted. “Enjoy your Thanksgiving. I think I’ll have dinner with Connie and Jenny after all.”
“Jake, don’t go,” she pleaded, looking oddly shaken. “Come on. This holiday is all about generosity and sharing.”
“Well, call me selfish, but I am not about to sit at the same table with the man who did his best to destroy your confidence and who still wants you back.” He pressed a hard kiss to her lips. “I’ll call you later.”
But he hadn’t. After suffering through a difficult dinner at his sister’s, where tensions were running high even before his arrival because Connie hadn’t allowed Jenny to go to Dillon’s for Thanksgiving dinner, he was in no mood for another pointless discussion with Bree about Marty’s continued presence in their lives. He still couldn’t quite believe she’d expected both of them to sit at the table and share a meal.
He knew Bree was anno
yed with him, but he had no intention of apologizing for wanting that man out of Chesapeake Shores. It finally occurred to him that one way to put an end to this was to confront Marty himself and find out what exactly he was hoping to gain by sticking around. He might not be able to read women, but he’d always had a pretty good idea when a man was trying to pull the wool over his eyes.
Since Jess had called him to report that some of the sparkling Christmas lights on the eaves had blown out, he figured he’d take the opportunity to have a little chat with the interloper. He found him in front of the fireplace in the inn’s drawing room, his lanky body stretched out in a relaxed position that suggested he was settling in comfortably at the inn. A thick, leather-bound book in his lap completed the pose.
“Making yourself at home, I see,” Jake said, standing over him.
Marty blinked up at him, feigning a lack of recognition. “Can I help you?”
“Oh, give it a rest, Demming. I’m not letting you intimidate me. You know perfectly well who I am and what I’m doing here.”
Marty’s eyes sparkled with sudden anticipation. He rose gracefully, a challenge in his eyes. “Ah, we’re going to have it out, then? A fight for the heart of the girl? The perfect denouement for act three.”
Jake ignored the dramatic reference. “No fight,” he said. “We’re just going to get a few things straight.”
“Really?” Marty said, obviously amused. “How quaint.”
“Oh, can the attitude,” Jake said impatiently. “What’s it going to take to get you to leave town? Bree’s done everything she can to make it clear she wants nothing to do with you or the theater company in Chicago. Why haven’t you taken the hint? It’s time for you to move on.”
“I don’t think so. You seem to forget that I was the one who made her dreams possible. She had an opportunity that many other playwrights covet. I can give her that again. She’ll be famous. What can you offer her?”
“A chance to make her own decisions, to achieve her dreams right here. A chance to start a family. I don’t think fame’s that important to Bree. The writing is what matters to her.”
“That shows how little you understand about the creative mind,” he said derisively. “Of course the words matter, but it’s the reaction of the audience that keeps us going, the applause that we crave.”
“Bree will have her audiences here. Her works will be applauded.”
“By whom? Just some unsophisticated folks who have only high-school musicals to compare her works to?”
Jake stared at him, awed by his total insensitivity. “Does she have any idea how little you think of her world, her family and friends? Are you aware that her father, who built this town, is a world-renowned architect, that her mother works in a prestigious art gallery in New York, that her sister made a name for herself on Wall Street? Every weekend this town fills up with lawyers, doctors, national politicians and other people from Baltimore and Washington who like the peace and solitude down here. Maybe your definition of sophistication is different from mine, but I think she’ll have a very appreciative, worldly audience right here.”
Jake leveled a hard look into the other man’s eyes. “Go home, Demming. Bree doesn’t want you here. No one does.”
His words didn’t seem to shake Marty’s confidence in the slightest. In fact, he stepped closer to Jake to make his point. “If you’re so sure of that, why are you here? Is it because you know that Bree and I are finding our way back to each other, that with enough time she’ll be in my bed again?”
Jake’s temper reached a boil. Despite his vow to keep the conversation civil, the man’s assumption that he could seduce Bree made Jake see red. Before he could think about the consequences, he hauled off and slugged him, knocking him off his feet and back into the chair. This time his pose didn’t look quite so studied.
“You can forget trying to seduce Bree because it’s never going to happen,” Jake told him fiercely.
But because Marty had managed to plant an insidious seed of doubt in his mind, he turned and walked away. The last thing he heard as he left the room was Marty’s mocking laughter.
Jake couldn’t shut off Marty’s words or the image of him back in bed with Bree. Maybe it was only the other man’s arrogance talking, but it had been enough to fill him with doubts. He was going to lose her again. He wasn’t a complete dolt. The handwriting was on the wall.
Because he didn’t think he could stand to be all alone at home with his thoughts, he drove to the nursery and went into the greenhouse to check on the poinsettias he was growing for the holiday season. He’d actually had some kind of insane idea that he might ask Bree to marry him on Christmas morning. Even crazier, he’d been sure she would say yes. Instead, she probably wouldn’t even be here in a few weeks.
Filled with anger, frustration and self-loathing for his stupidity, he picked up one of the pots and heaved it across the greenhouse. Dirt, greenery and plastic littered the floor. He picked up another one, but a gentle touch had him sighing and setting it down. He assumed it was Connie, but when he turned, Bree was staring up at him.
“I can’t let you murder any more poinsettias. It’ll ruin the holidays around here. I’m counting on making a lot of money selling those plants.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her. “I figured you’d be gone by then.”
She stared at him incredulously. “Why on earth would you think that?”
“I just had an illuminating conversation with Marty. He’s pretty confident you’ll wind up back in Chicago with him. His performance was fairly convincing.”
“Apparently so was yours. Word has spread that you can throw quite a punch when you’re riled up.” She seemed amused, but sobered at once. “Not that I approve of violence to settle an argument.”
“Duly noted,” he said. “But he deserved it.”
“Oh, I’m sure of that.” She studied him intently. “I’ll say this one last time, Jake. I’m not going anywhere with Marty. I’m not leaving you again, and certainly not for the likes of Martin Demming.”
“But your play?”
“They’ll produce it without me, or they won’t,” she said with a shrug.
“Come on, Bree. Getting another play produced in a major city is a big deal.”
“It is,” she agreed. “And it was exciting, but I think it will be even more exciting to start my own theater right here and build a life with you. You can freeze me out if you want, put up all those protective shields, but I’m not leaving, Jake. I can’t. Everything I want or need is here. You are everything I want or need.”
Jake desperately wanted to believe her, wanted to believe that this time he came first. “Why?” he asked.
“Because I love you, you idiot. I always have.”
“You left before,” he reminded her.
“I just needed to be a hundred percent sure of who I am. And I had to go to Chicago to find that out.”
Relief flowed through him, but he knew there was something more that had to be decided if they were to make this work. “I can’t ask you to give up your dream. If that’s in Chicago or New York, we can make it work.”
“You didn’t ask. I made the decision to stay weeks ago. I’ve told you that. Now I’m telling you that you are my dream. All the rest, it’s what I do. The theater, my plays, the shop—if any of it matters enough, I’ll find a way to fit it into my life with you. I’ll never choose my work over you again.”
He studied her intently, needing to be sure, but there wasn’t so much as a hint of hesitation in her voice, not a doubt in her clear eyes.
“I love you,” she said, as if he might need to hear it again.
Jake drew in a deep breath and took what for him was that last gigantic leap of faith. He supposed now was as good a time as Christmas morning. “Then I only have one more question.”
“Which is?”
“Will you marry me?”
A smile broke across her face and she moved into his a
rms. “You know, for a man who’s smart enough for me to love, you sure were slow about this. I didn’t think you’d ever ask.”
“For a long while, I wasn’t so sure I would. Now I can’t think why I wasted all this time.”
And then his lips were on hers, and the only timing that mattered was here and now.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-3210-9
FLOWERS ON MAIN
Copyright © 2009 by Sherryl Woods.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
MIRA and the Star Colophon are trademarks used under license and registered in Australia, New Zealand, Philippines, United States Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries.
www.MIRABooks.com [http://www.MIRABooks.com]
Table of Contents
*
**
***
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Flowers on Main Page 34
