Finally Home

by Taylor, Helen Scott

  “No.” Her uncompromising tone sent up a red flag. He’d have to remember her aversion to alcohol. He glanced at his cold glass of Dutch courage and reluctantly placed it on the table untouched.

  “Your mother invited me to Sunday dinner at the family home.”

  “Did she now?” Jack had expected his mother to be furious about the aborted wedding after she had worked so hard to persuade him to marry Stephanie. What was the woman up to now?

  “She wants us to get married.”

  He clenched his fist against his thigh. After their lunch in the pub he’d realized he really liked Melanie, but he planned to take things slowly, give her a chance to get to know him before he asked her out. He didn’t want his mother scaring her off.

  Melanie stood and went to the window. Jack watched anxiously as the sofa cushions bounced. “She tried to blackmail me,” she said softly.

  “She what?” Jack snatched up his glass without thinking and took a gulp. “How?”

  “She said she owns twenty-five percent of the hotel. If I don’t come to dinner on Sunday I’ll lose my job.”

  “She has no right.” Jack finished his glass of wine in a couple of swigs and sat on the seat over Melanie’s personnel file. He couldn’t take any more shocks tonight.

  “That’s what I thought.” Melanie came and stood in front of him. So close, he could smell her powdery scent. He suspected it was baby powder or something to do with her son, but, crazy as it seemed, the fragrance still made his pulse jump when he smelled it on her. “If she only holds twenty-five percent, she can’t force you to sack me. I won’t go to her dinner.”

  Jack grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “Actually, if she suddenly wanted her investment back, that might prove rather awkward. Not that the money isn’t there, it’s just tied up.”

  “So she could make you sack me.” Melanie sat down beside him and rested her head back on the sofa. Their bodies almost touched. It was the closest Jack had ever been to her, and they were alone in the darkened room. He eased nearer, just a fraction so she wouldn’t notice, and reached for her hand. Miraculously, she let him touch her without pulling away.

  “Why not come to the family lunch with me on Sunday? The food will be good. You’ll like my cousins. Emily’s married with two boys. Sam’s five and Mathew’s seven. Pippa’s pregnant and not married so we don’t talk about that. And Uncle Bernie is okay. A male version of Mother, but toned down to acceptable levels.”

  Gently he slid his fingers around Melanie’s hand and held it properly. She turned her head and looked at him. The subdued light illuminated the pearly gloss on her lips. She had plump, full lips. He could imagine how soft they would feel when he kissed her.

  “What about Ryan?” she asked, and Jack felt rotten for concentrating on what he wanted when she was worried about her son.

  “Bring him.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not? He can play with Sam and Matt. He’ll have a great time. You never know, when Mother finds out you’ve got a son, she might lose interest in you as a prospective daughter-in-law.”

  “Think so?” She brightened slightly, making Jack feel even worse. He had a nasty suspicion his mother would love a ready-made grandchild.

  “I’m looking forward to meeting Ryan. You’ve been here for two months, and I’ve never been introduced to him.”

  Melanie’s smile dropped away, and she pulled her hand out of his grip. “I must go. The handyman’s wife is keeping an eye on Ryan for me for half an hour.”

  Jack watched her running across his back garden so she wouldn’t be seen leaving his house. She was so neat and controlled. She even ran in small, economical strides, her arms tight to her sides. He longed to muss her up, make her forget herself. She squeezed through a gap in the hedge that led to the manager’s flat in the loft of what used to be the stables.

  From his upstairs bathroom window, he occasionally saw Ryan playing in the small fenced grassy area near the old stables. Melanie never brought her son into the hotel, preferring to use the private entrance to her flat from the road. It hadn’t bothered Jack before. Now he wondered why she was so secretive. Why did she keep the boy away from the hotel and, more precisely, away from him? It was almost as if she didn’t want them to meet.

  He pulled the crumpled file out from under the sofa seat and smoothed it flat. Melanie Marshall was a puzzle. Even if she had lost her husband, surely five years was long enough to mourn and start dating again. He opened the file and looked for her photo. When he didn’t find it, he checked around. With a sigh of relief, he finally located the photo on the floor, half under the sofa. He must have dropped it in his haste earlier. Thank goodness Melanie hadn’t noticed it there. That would have taken some explaining.

  He smiled to himself. His mother’s interference normally caused him trouble, but she had done him a favor in persuading Melanie to come to dinner on Sunday. He wanted to get to know her better. He just hoped his family didn’t scare her off.

  * * *

  The phone was ringing as Melanie dashed in her front door. “Thank you so much for watching Ryan,” she said to the babysitter. “Is everything all right?”

  “He’s still asleep. Good as gold that boy is.” The older woman smiled to acknowledge Melanie’s thanks and slipped out the door as the answerphone cut in.

  Years of caution made Melanie stand over the phone waiting to see who was calling at this late hour. She only picked up the receiver when she heard her grandmother’s voice. “Grandma, are you all right?” she asked with a flash of concern.

  Her grandmother’s weary sigh hissed down the line. “I’m sorry to ring so late, dear. Your mother’s been on the phone again this evening, pressing me to give her your number.”

  “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

  “No, dear. But I can’t keep putting them off. You’ll have to ring your mum and dad sometime. They want to see Ryan.”

  Melanie closed her eyes as her chest tightened with a swirl of painful emotion. “No.” Instead of supporting her in her hour of need, her parents had turned against her when the people of Littlechurch unjustly tarred her with the same brush as her despicable husband. If it hadn’t been for her grandma, she’d have had nobody to turn to. Her parents hadn’t even bothered to visit Ryan when he was in hospital. As far as she was concerned, they had forfeited their right to a grandchild.

  “You’ll have to talk to them eventually.”

  Melanie released a fraught breath. It wasn’t fair to expect her grandma to play gatekeeper for her, but she just could not bring herself to speak to her mother. “They started it. They were the ones who stopped speaking to me.”

  “I know, pet, but you must try to see things from their point of view.”

  Melanie zoned out as her grandmother launched into the familiar excuse, that because her parents owned the pub in Littlechurch, they’d been frightened that they would lose their customers if they went against public opinion. Her parents had put their business interests above the welfare of their own daughter and grandson, and she would never forgive them.

  Chapter Three

  Dot on eleven on Sunday morning, Jack’s Mercedes pulled up outside Melanie’s flat.

  She locked the front door behind her and negotiated her way down the steps, Ryan’s hand tightly clasped in one hand, his car seat in her other.

  Jack, who was out of his car and heading for the steps, hastened to relieve her of the child seat.
“You were quick coming out.”

  “Hmm.” Melanie smiled. “Didn’t want to keep you waiting.” She also didn’t want him inside her flat. Although she’d been inside his house and was being pressed into Sunday lunch with his family, she still wanted to keep their personal lives as separate as possible. She had the terrible sensation events were running out of control. If she weren’t careful, Stephanie’s gossip about Melanie and Jack being an item might become reality.

  “I thought this visit would require Sunday best?” Melanie eyed the faded denim jeans hugging Jack’s lower body in all the right places.

  “I’ll be playing football with the boys after lunch.”

  “Football!” Ryan, who’d been shy and subdued since they left the flat, jumped up and down, hanging on Melanie’s hand. “Can I play?”

  “Course you can.” Jack folded his long body down in front of Ryan and held out his hand. “I’m Jack. You must be Ryan. Pleased to meet you.”

  Solemnly, Ryan put his small hand in Jack’s and shook. “Pleased to meet you too. Mum said I must call you Mr. Summers.”

  Jack grunted derisively. “Mr. Summers is my dad. You can call me Jack.”

  Ryan giggled. This was exactly what Melanie had feared. They’d been in Jack’s company for only a few minutes, and already he’d started wheedling his way into her son’s affections.

  In a rush of efficiency, she swept Ryan towards the car. “In you hop, now. Don’t want to keep Mr. Summers’s mother waiting.”

  With his eyes self-consciously on Jack, Ryan made a show of settling himself in his seat. Melanie tried to fasten the straps, but he pushed her hands away. “I want to do it.”

  “I need to check it’s done properly, Ryan. Be a good boy.”

  Jack, who’d seated himself, looked over his shoulder. “Let your mum check the straps, Ryan, or we’ll never get any lunch. Aren’t you hungry?”

  When Ryan immediately moved his hands and let her fasten his seatbelt, irritation shot through her. She could look after her son herself. She did not need a man interfering. She marched around the car, climbed in and slammed the door.

  Jack raised his eyebrows as he started the engine. She leaned towards him and whispered vehemently, “I want your word you won’t interfere again when I’m dealing with my son, or we get out of this car now.”

  His expression tightened. “While I’m driving, it’s my responsibility to make sure anyone under fourteen is properly strapped in. Check your highway code if you don’t believe me.”

  Mortified, Melanie bit her lip. Jack was just being a responsible driver. After the way her husband had behaved, she of all people should applaud that. Heat flushed her face. “Sorry. I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  “Of course you hadn’t. You’re so busy trying to keep me at a distance you can’t think of anything else.” His jaw clenched as he slammed the gear stick into first and pulled away. An uncomfortable silence filled the car.

  Melanie stared out of her side window, the tiny hairs on her neck prickling with the tension. Why was he so bothered that she wanted to keep to herself? He’d been happy with the way she behaved before he left for Barbados. Surely he’d be relieved to put all this fake relationship nonsense behind them and get back to normal.

  Jack didn’t say another word until they turned between two granite pillars and followed a long driveway flanked by rambling rhododendron bushes. “This is Hazelwood House.” He swung the car around a circular patch of gravel and parked beside a black SUV.

  Grand was the first word that came to mind when she stared at the magnificent Georgian manor. It looked nearly as large as Jack’s hotel.

  Jack was already out of the car and holding her door open by the time Melanie moved. Without looking at her, he waited with his hands in the pockets of his jeans while she helped Ryan from his seat.

  A brooding young Italian man wearing impossibly tight black trousers and a blue silk shirt opened the front door.

  “Marco,” Jack said nodding. “This is Melanie.”

  Marco scanned her with a lazy appraisal that made her feel uncomfortable. There was something sleazy about him. He held out his hand but she really did not want to touch him.

  After the handshake, she rubbed her palm on her trousers. “Who’s he?” she whispered to Jack as Marco sauntered away.

  “My mother’s toy boy.”

  “Her what?” Melanie’s eyes widened in horror.

  “He keeps her happy for the moment. I think she’s trying to keep up with my father.” Jack indicated Melanie should follow Marco. She took Ryan’s hand and led him down the hallway, Jack behind them.

  Although Melanie had viewed the meal as a trial, once they were seated around a huge oval table in the dining room, the meal actually turned out to be fun. Jack was right, Melanie discovered she liked his cousin Emily, and her two sons immediately made friends with Ryan. The three boys sat together at one end of the table chattering nonstop about television shows, school and football.

  Jack’s pregnant cousin Pippa wore an air of aloof melancholy and spent most of the time talking softly to Marco. Melanie expected subtle or not-so-subtle pressure from Mrs. Summers to discuss her relationship with Jack, but she was the perfect hostess. Jack still seemed annoyed with her. Although he sat beside her, he left her to talk to Emily and spent his time discussing share prices and exchange rates with his uncle.

  As soon as the boys were given permission to leave the table after lunch, Sam and Matt raced out the French doors into the back garden with Ryan in tow, as though he’d been friends with them all his life.

  “Jack, Jack,” the boys chanted.

  The adults all smiled indulgently, and Jack gave a mock sigh. “Duty calls.”

  Emily slapped him on the arm as he walked past her towards the garden. “You big kid.” She turned to Melanie. “Don’t fall for his act. He loves this as much as the boys do.”

  Jack gave the first real smile Melanie had seen from him since their argument and headed outside.

  “Want to go and watch the show?” Emily asked.

  Melanie agreed instantly. She was itching to go out and check on Ryan and, she couldn’t deny, she was curious to see Jack playing football.

  When she reached the garden, Jack had removed his jacket, rolled up his shirtsleeves and was bouncing a football on his toe with the precision of an expert. The three boys each had balls and were trying to imitate his trick with little success.

  Melanie felt her mouth fall open as Jack flicked the ball up, caught it behind his back on his heel, flicked it forward onto his toe again, then repeated the move.

  “You’re impressed.” The hint of amusement in Emily’s voice made Melanie snap her mouth shut. “I take it you don’t know his history.”

  “What history?”

  Emily indicated the swing seat under an oak tree and they sat together to watch as they chatted.

  “Jack started his career as a professional footballer straight out of school. He was the golden boy, captain of the school team, played for his county, headhunted by one of the big-name teams. Unfortunately, it all came to a sad end. After a few years, his knees couldn’t take the punishment and he had to give it up. Football was his world, his sun, moon and stars. For a while, I thought losing that would finish him.” Emily paused and shook her head.

  Melanie put her hand over her mouth. A professional footballer? If someone had told her Jack was an alien she couldn’t be more surprised. She looked at him manipulating
the ball effortlessly. Now she knew his history, the well-developed leg muscles of a sportsman were obvious beneath the tight denim of his jeans. “What did he do next?”

  “It gets worse.” Emily grimaced. “His fiancée left him standing at the altar a few weeks later. Jack really needed his father’s support, but Francis Summers chose that moment to walk out on Imelda. Jack’s dad always let him down, but this was the final straw. I don’t think Jack’s spoken to him since.”

  “Oh.” It was all Melanie could say. When she told Jack they didn’t know each other, she had no idea how little she did know him. “Where’s Jack’s father now?”

  “New York, shacked up with his latest bimbo.” Emily gestured at Marco, who was leaning against the wall, sulkily smoking a cigarette. “Imelda’s trying to beat Francis at his own game. She wants someone to love her, but she’s looking in the wrong place. Marco just likes spending her money. I think that’s why she’s so keen for Jack to marry and give her grandchildren to dote on.”

  Pity and a touch of guilt stole through Melanie. If Imelda hoped Melanie would marry Jack and provide the grandchildren she so badly wanted, she would be disappointed.

  Once the boys tired of the tricks, Jack set up a goal between two plant pots and let them try to kick balls past him. Melanie held her breath every time he threw himself to the ground, worried he’d hurt his knees. He cleverly missed the strikes without making it obvious, letting each boy score a goal every few kicks, much to their delight.

  Melanie was so in awe of Jack’s athletic display, it wasn’t until the game ended she realized, with a little shiver of concern, that Ryan was equally starstruck. When Jack took a dive for the final ball and made sure he missed, all three boys jumped on him, screaming. Ryan was right in there with the others, wrestling around on the ground, eyes bright with excitement.

  Emily crossed her arms. “The washing machine will be busy tonight. Why does male bonding always involve getting dirty?” She released a lingering breath. “My boys adore Jack. He’s so good with them. I wish their father took half the interest in them that Jack does.”