by Tessa Radley
She looked startled by his question. Finally, she said, “Truthfully?”
“By all means be truthful.”
Nick braced himself, and hoped she wouldn’t be too truthful.
“Yes, it did surprise me. You come across as being very distant and remote. Not the kind of man who would be easy to work for. Yet she’s adamant that you’re the best employer she’s ever had—even though she seems to have found Jilly…” Candace hesitated “…trying sometimes. Not that she said it in so many words. It was more in what she didn’t say—and how much she raved about you.”
“Mrs. Busby deserves a raise—for loyalty at the very least. Because Jilly could be trying.” And demanding. And insecure. And like the house she adored, with its plethora of glass and mirrors that needed constant shining, she’d been high-maintenance.
“Do you miss her terribly?”
Nick didn’t hesitate. “No.”
Candace’s eyes widened and her mouth formed an O.
“Did you want me to lie to you?”
“My impression was that you were everything she’d ever wanted.”
Nick looked away. He fumbled and drew the gold wedding band off his finger. “It’s long past time to take this off. What Jilly and I had could hardly be called a marriage.”
The sound of Candace’s sharply drawn breath filled the sudden silence.
“Nick—”
He didn’t look at her. “Jilly is dead. I don’t want to conduct a postmortem over a marriage that never even got off the ground.”
Her hand stroked along his arm. “I never meant to—”
Man, she was killing him. The worst of it was she had no clue. Finally, he looked at her. “I should never have married Jilly.”
Her eyes were so soft he could’ve sworn she understood what he felt. The confusion. The guilt. The frustration at the lost years.
The yearning for a woman like her.
Her hand released him, and he felt the loss. Picking up her wineglass, Candace took a deep sip.
Nick knew how she felt. Except she had no idea how bad he had it—the whole damn bottle of wine wouldn’t ease the desire that heated him, it would only inflame it. And Nick had no intention of losing sight of the most important aspect of his existence—his control.
However much he wanted Candace.
He knew the time had come to retreat. Before he lost his head and did something he might later regret. Rising to his feet, he said, “I have a long day tomorrow. I think I’ll turn in.”
“Nick…”
He paused, his pulse thudding. “What is it?”
Candace shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Tell me,” he insisted.
She hesitated, then said, “Do you still want me to come with you and Jennie to the carnival on Sunday?”
Nick was sure that wasn’t what she’d planned to say, but he didn’t challenge her. “Of course.” The coward in him added, “Alison and her husband, Richard, and her boys will no doubt be there too. It’s a great day out.”
Nick didn’t want Candace guessing how pleased he was that she’d agreed to go.
Ten
A welcoming banner festooned with hearts fluttered over the arched entrance to Valentine’s Garden Super Center.
“How did you manage to arrange for so many roses to be in bloom for today’s carnival?” Candace asked Nick as he pushed Jennie’s stroller under the arch covered in cascades of red, pink and white.
Nick’s mouth slanted. “Good planning—I leave nothing to chance.”
Candace gave him a narrow-eyed glance. Before she could react, a cloud of red, heart-shaped balloons floated toward them. A teenager wearing a T-shirt proclaiming Valentine’s… Gardens of Love emerged from behind the bunch and held a balloon out to Candace.
“Thank you.” Candace smiled and accepted the red heart. Bending forward, she tied it to the stroller. Jennie’s eyes lit up and her hand reached out. At her touch the balloon bobbed away, and Jennie squealed with pleasure.
Nick laughed. Straightening, Candace met his dancing eyes. There was a moment of pure, joyous accord, before she came to her senses and walked away quickly, leaving Nick to follow with the stroller.
She couldn’t allow herself to forget that Nick had wanted to get her out of her daughter’s life. Candace knew the battle wasn’t over yet. Nick was a hard-nosed businessman; he’d simply be choosing his time to regroup and attack again. She dared not let her guard down.
Inside the garden center, a lively sight met her eyes. The area around the coffee shop had been transformed, with extra tables and chairs arranged on the cobbles, and red-and-white petunias cascading out of planter boxes. On the wooden adventure playground children swarmed down rope ladders and over wooden battlements, and beyond the playground red, blue, and yellow canvas booths had been set up. In the nearest booth three young women were painting toddlers’ faces, while the booths beyond housed hook-the-fish, a skittle lane, a balloon twister and an assortment of other festive activities. “Goodness, it is a carnival.”
“Close enough.” Taking one hand from the stroller, Nick placed it under Candace’s elbow and guided her through the crowd while deftly maneuvering the stroller with his other hand. Instantly, shivers skittered across the bare skin where his hand rested. Candace forced herself to pretend she hadn’t noticed.
In the farthest corner a table had been cleared, and a waitress descended on them, brandishing menus. Nick’s hand released Candace, and he drew out a chair for her and then parked the stroller with a suddenly heavy-eyed Jennie in the corner beside them.
“There are pony rides and more booths down by the lake—even a kissing booth,” said Nick.
Candace sat, determined not be drawn into a discussion about kissing. The lingering sizzle from where his hand had rested was more than enough. She didn’t need any mention of kissing to heighten the constant warmth that enveloped her whenever Nick was nearby. So she changed the subject. “It’s all too much for Jennie to take in. Look, all the excitement, and she’s almost asleep!”
Nick laughed, then greeted the waitress by name, took the menus and passed one to Candace. “What would you like? I recommend the berry smoothies.”
“A smoothie sounds lovely.” Candace was relieved that Nick hadn’t pursued the topic of kissing booths.
The waitress gathered up the menus and departed. Candace glanced around. A little way off, an old-fashioned gazebo swayed with a trio of musicians. Plenty of older customers—and some younger couples—sat on the benches scattered throughout the carnival scene, enjoying the music. Her mother would’ve loved this…
But the days for this kind of pleasure were past for Catherine Morrison. “You’ve catered to everyone—all ages,” she said, trying not to let regret take hold at the thought of what her mother had lost.
Nick nodded. “Our Valentine’s Sunday carnival is part of the annual social calendar for many of our customers. Some have been coming for years. Old couples. Young families. At the heart of it all, everyone wants love…a family…and a home.”
She liked him in this gentler mood. It wasn’t the controlled—and controlling—Nick Valentine he usually presented to the world. This was a different Nick—nothing like the uncaring businessman she’d pegged him to be.
A much more likable Nick.
Fixing her attention on his face, she said, “You sound like you believe in that, too.”
“Of course I do. Our centers provide a chance for people to build fantastic gardens they and their families can enjoy—irrespective of age…or of how many people are in their families.”
The passion Nick was talking about was absent from the soulless perfection of the sculpted pool deck, flat lawns and clipped boxwood hedging of his own home. Candace couldn’t keep from saying, “But what about your own garden?”
“What do you mea—”
“Nick! I almost didn’t spot you hiding back there in the corner.” A stooping, angular woman with salt-and-pepper ha
ir and a weather-beaten face stopped beside their table.
He got to his feet and gave her a great bear hug. “Bertha.”
Once Nick had pulled away from her embrace, the old lady’s sharp green eyes inspected Candace, then dropped to Jennie sleeping in the stroller. “This is that newborn baby I came to your house to see?”
“This is Jennie.”
Could that be pride in Nick’s voice?
“My, but she’s grown.” The woman fixed an accusing stare on Nick. “I can’t even pick her up because that would waken her. I keep telling you to bring her to work so I can see her.”
“I’m sorry.”
Nick Valentine actually sounded humble. Who was this woman?
Candace realized she was attracting equal interest. “I’m Candace.” She hesitated, then added, “Jennie’s nanny.”
Not the whole truth, but a version she could live with.
For now.
“Candace, meet Bertha Williams.”
“This young man used to mow my lawns.”
“Bertha and Henry gave me a job in their garden center and taught me to grow vegetables, generate cuttings. They ignited my love of gardening and then convinced me that my dream to enroll in a landscaping course at night school could be turned into reality.”
“We owned it for forty years, before losing it. Nick had to wrest the center away from the businessman who was ready to build houses on the property. Henry and I might have been fine gardeners but we couldn’t keep the money straight.” Bertha’s brutally honest account made no apologies for their shortcomings. “Nick set it right.” The old woman gave him a fond smile. “So after Nick moved us back into the manager’s house seven years ago, I insisted that he hire me.”
Nick grinned at her. “It was a good investment.”
“Good for us, too. Since you took over the business it’s given Henry and I time together. Even despite his heart attack, freed from the strain of running the business, the years have been wonderful.”
For once Candace couldn’t believe that Nick’s decision to employ Bertha had been driven solely by profit. Even though her eyes were bright with life, Bertha’s hands were crippled with arthritis, her back hunched. Seven years ago she would’ve already been over sixty. Nick must really care about the old woman.
Yet he hadn’t brought Jennie to visit her…
Because he hadn’t believed that Jennie was his child?
Before she could speculate further, Bertha said, “Giving Nick a summer job all those years ago was the best business decision we ever made.”
“Flattery gets you everywhere,” Nick told Bertha, lifting his napkin as the waitress delivered the smoothies to the table.
Candace smiled her thanks to the waitress, placed her straw in the deep pink drink and sipped. Despite being so driven, it appeared Nick did have some redeeming qualities. Bertha clearly thought he was wonderful. Mrs. Busby had extolled his virtues as an employer and now Bertha was implying that he’d single-handedly saved their garden center. Would taking Jennie from her father be the best thing for the child?
Candace found herself wavering.
Then she forced herself to take stock. Jennie’s well-being came first. She gazed at the man who had thrown her into such confusion. Could Nick Valentine match the kind of love she could give her daughter?
“Would you like to join us for a cup of tea, Bertha?” Nick was asking as he picked up his own smoothie.
Bertha glanced from Nick to Candace. A crafty expression crept across her time-wrinkled face. “I think I’ve kept you young people long enough.” Patting Candace’s shoulder, she added, “Nick works too hard, my dear. Do an old lady a favor and make sure he takes it easy today…and has some fun.”
Satisfaction settled over Nick.
Down near the lake the carnival was in full swing. Two black ponies led by a woman with long braids plodded along the path beside the lake, their young riders clutching at the reins.
Things were finally going better, he decided as Candace slowed the stroller, in which Jennie was still sleeping, and brought it to a halt.
Changing Candace’s belief that he was a poor parent hadn’t been as easy as he’d thought it would be. For one thing, Nick found it difficult to talk about himself. For another, while he’d vowed to spend more time with Jennie and to behave more like her father, that meant changing habits of a lifetime. He would do it. He’d already made great strides in spending more time at home. Hell, even Pauline and his sister had noticed. Nick had every intention of honoring the promise he’d made to Jennie the day she’d almost ended up in the lake—except he’d never been the kind of man who wore his heart on his sleeve.
Fortunately, his plan of inviting Candace to see firsthand the family-friendly empire he’d built had been nicely jump-started with Bertha’s zealous endorsement. He could’ve kissed the woman who’d played such an important role in his life.
How could Candace not reconsider her low opinion of him?
A little way down the rolling bank, he caught sight of his sister waving frantically. “There’s Alison,” he told Candace. “Come on, if Jennie wakes up she can play with her cousins.”
They reached the lake, and he introduced Candace to his sister’s husband, Richard, while their two sons crowded around—the four- and six-year-old both talking at once.
“Can we go see Princess Piggy?”
Nick shuddered theatrically.
“Scoot,” their father ordered.
“Can we have money to get some cotton candy?”
Alison rolled her eyes. “I’m sure your dad will give you money…be back in ten minutes.”
“I might go with them,” said Richard. “Just to make sure they don’t get into trouble.”
As the boys and their father disappeared around the bend in the path, Alison turned to Candace and shook her head. “Kids! You’re lucky you don’t have any.”
As Nick glared at his sister, Alison immediately realized her mistake. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Candace, that was tactless, I wasn’t thinking.”
“Who’s Princess Piggy?” asked Candace in what Nick was sure was a brave attempt to distract his sister.
Alison brightened up. “Haven’t you seen the kissing booth? You ought to get Nick to take you—it’s his favorite booth.” Alison grinned.
Candace shot Nick a wary glance. Nick could’ve rung his sister’s neck. “That’s not very nice.”
Alison hooked her arms through his and Candace’s and bore them both along with her. “See? There’s Princess Piggy.”
Inside a fully enclosed booth was a pink pig sporting a strapped-on glitzy rhinestone crown and a passion-pink satin sash. Nick grimaced and his sister giggled.
“Look at Nick’s face,” she whispered to Candace loudly enough for Nick to hear.
He watched as Candace glanced up at him and her gray eyes started to smile. Nick fought to keep his face impassive and not give away the effect she had on him. “The funds we raise today will be donated to charity,” Nick explained. “Princess Piggy’s stall is often one of the most successful.”
“People pay to kiss a pig?” The doubtful look Candace cast the Kiss-the-Princess banner above the stall told Nick what she thought of the idea.
Nick pointed to a row of glass jars with names written on the front in black marker, each containing money. “See those jars? People pay for someone else to kiss the pig. Around midday the contents are tallied up, and the person with the most monetary ‘votes’ in his jar is tracked down and forced to kiss the Princess.” Nick gave the porker a sour look.
“I take it you’ve had to do that in years past?”
“My staff seem to think it’s extremely amusing.”
“The proceeds go to charity and Nick’s a good sport.” Alison pointed at the first jar. “I think I see your name there again this year.”
Nick groaned.
Beside him he heard Candace laugh, which almost made the prospect of kissing Princess palatable today.
&n
bsp; “And here I imagined everyone was queuing up to kiss the prettiest woman at the fair.” Amusement lingered in Candace’s voice.
Had she been jealous? Nick found the notion curiously heartening. But Candace bent forward over the railing, preventing him from reading the expression on her face.
“Princess Piggy’s quite cute,” said Candace.
“Sure,” said Nick unenthusiastically. “Alison certainly thinks so.” He gave his sister a mock frown.
“Hey,” said Alison. “To make up for the fact that I’m certain you’ll have to kiss the darling again today, I’ll babysit for you tonight…if you want to take Candace out for dinner?”
Nick’s heart flipped. But Candace was flushing as she said quickly, “No, no, that’s not—”
Before she could turn down the offer, Nick cut in. “That’s a great idea. Thanks, Ally.” He touched Candace’s arm. “Don’t forget, Bertha told us to have fun.”
Candace’s bottom lip jutted out endearingly, causing Nick to fight the impulse to kiss it.
“I’m sure you’ll both enjoy some time out,” said Alison, looking around her. “Speaking of which, I’ve been left alone far too long. I’d better go and check where those boys of mine have gotten to.”
Before Nick could ask his sister to wait so they could finalize Jennie’s sleepover arrangements for the night, he spied a familiar snowy head in the approaching throng.
Putting an arm around Candace, he braced himself for the inevitable clash of wills with his father-in-law. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Desmond.”
“As a future stockholder in Valentine’s, I wanted to investigate my investment. What better time than today?” The grim smile didn’t light up his glacial eyes. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your woman?”
Nick felt Candace tense.
Resisting what was rapidly becoming a familiar urge to land his fist in Desmond’s stomach, he said, “This is my father-in-law. Desmond, this is Jennie’s nanny, Candace.” He chose the explanation she’d offered Bertha, and thankfully Candace didn’t contradict him.
“I see.”
Without sparing the sleeping baby in the stroller a glance, Desmond looked Candace up and down, making his opinion of what he saw very clear. Nick resisted the urge to let his hand fall from where he’d rested it protectively in the small of her back.
