Finding You

by Maureen Child

  “Grace,” Stevie called out to the girl at the end of the counter, “I’m taking a break. You watch the place, okay?” Then she picked up a pot of coffee and told Carla, “Come on back.”

  Following the pot of coffee as much as anything else, Carla stepped behind the counter, snapped her fingers for Abbey to follow, and walked into the tiny cubbyhole Stevie referred to as “the office.”

  Basically the size of a small closet, the room held one desk, two chairs, and a file cabinet. A state-of-the art computer sat atop the gleaming desktop, and a poster of Paris hung on the wall. The one window looked out over the patio area and, beyond, the ocean. Plopping down into the chair behind the desk, Stevie pointed at the other chair and ordered, “Sit.”

  Too tired to argue, Carla did. “If you’re going to lecture me, at least give me more coffee.”

  Refilling her cup, Stevie tossed a plain biscotti to Abbey, who lay down to crunch contentedly. Then, sitting back, Stevie crossed her feet on the corner of the desk and asked, “Okay, what’s the what here?”

  Hell, she’d come here knowing that Stevie would ask questions, Carla thought. So she might as well talk and get it over with. Staring into the black coffee, she said, “You remember Mr. Hot and Tasty?”

  “Oh, yeah.” When Carla said nothing, Stevie gasped, dropped her feet to the floor, and leaned forward. “You slept with him.”

  “Nope. Close,” oh God, so close, “but no cigar.”

  “Well, damn.”

  “You could say that.”

  “What else could I say?” Stevie asked quietly.

  “Oh, you could say that I really, really … like him.”

  “Like?”

  “That’s as far as I’m willing to go,” or, at least, admit to, Carla told herself. She wouldn’t have been stupid enough to fall in love with the wrong man again, right? No one was dumb enough to fall in love with a man who was still in love with his dead wife. A man who was here only temporarily. A man who turned her knees to butter and her blood to boiling.

  “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

  Carla lifted her gaze to look at her best friend. “Not yet. But God help me, it wouldn’t take much.”

  “And that’s bad because…?”

  Leaning back in her chair, Carla tightened her grip on the coffee cup and shook her head. “How many reasons do you need?”

  “What’ve you got?”

  “Let’s see.…” She held up one hand and lifted one finger for each reason as she ticked them off. “He’s only here for the summer. He’s got a daughter with a problem that terrifies him. He’s still in love with his dead wife. He’s only here for the summer.”

  “You said that one already.”

  “It’s a big one. Deserves to be counted twice.”

  “Uh-huh. And how do you know he’s still in love with his wife?”

  “When he kissed me”—she sighed and thought about it—“it was great for a couple minutes there. Then he backed off so fast, it was like he was Dracula and I was wearing a garlic corsage.”

  “He kissed you?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “A friendly peck on the cheek?”

  Carla shook her head. “No, more of a close examination of my tonsils.”

  “This sounds promising.”

  She grumbled, “Then I’m telling it wrong.”

  “Carla, stop thinking so much, will you?” Stevie topped off her coffee again. “What do your instincts say?”

  Well, that was easy. Her whole body was screaming at her to go over to Jackson’s place and kiss him again. But her instincts were telling her to back off. To let this go before she got hurt again.

  And if she had any sense at all, she’d listen.

  Damn it, she hadn’t wanted this. Hadn’t counted on it. Sure, she made jokes now about her fiancé dropping her and running back to his old girlfriend. But that was simply a good Candellano diversionary tactic. If you laughed first, then people were laughing with you. Not at you. But the real truth, the one she hid even from herself most of the time, was that she’d been humiliated when the man she’d agreed to marry had packed up and taken off.

  Her pride had taken a beating and her heart had been kicked around until it still ached at the oddest moments. So now, she had to wonder … did she really want to set herself up for another fall? Especially when she had the distinct feeling that if she lost again, the pain this time would be soul-shattering? She’d already lost one man to a former love.

  Did she really want to lose one to a ghost?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “NO.” JACKSON LOOKED DOWN at his little girl and sighed. Damn. She was still wearing the expression that clearly said, I hate my completely crappy father. He’d been looking at that fierce, silent, temper tantrum for the last hour. Ever since he’d had to stop her from going over to Carla’s house.

  And in a weird sort of way, he was almost enjoying this show of emotion. Even if it was negative and aimed directly at him. For a solid year now, Reese had been more or less drifting through the world. She touched nothing and allowed nothing to touch her. She ate and slept and went through the motions of living, but she’d only been a spectator in her own life.

  Jackson’s own life had changed drastically, too. He’d cut back on work over the last few months until he was now a rare visitor in his own office. He’d shifted so many of his clients to other lawyers that the only person who would really notice his absence this summer was his secretary—and he was pretty sure her résumé would be making the rounds while he was gone.

  And he didn’t give a damn.

  For years he’d focused on nothing but the law, his career. Success had become the only goal worth striving for. In his desperation to prove to himself and everyone else that he was more than an orphan in an expensive suit, he’d lost everything that should have been important. He’d married the wrong woman for the wrong reasons and then resented the demands she’d made on his time. They’d had a child Diane hadn’t really wanted, fought more than they’d talked, and then finally, in the space of one rainy morning, he’d become a single parent with no clue at all about how to do the most important job he would ever have.

  What the hell did he know about families? Little girls? Oh, he loved Reese. Had from the moment of her birth. But was love enough? Didn’t she need more, and if she did, would he be able to give it to her?

  Jackson still remembered the panic he’d felt the first time he and Reese had been left alone. Diane’s funeral service barely over, the mourners had left as quickly as was socially acceptable. And the Barringtons hadn’t stayed much longer. Then it was just him and Reese. As it had been for the last year.

  And despite everything, this time with her had been precious. He’d gotten closer to her than he probably would have been if tragedy hadn’t dropped into their laps. He knew firsthand what it was like to supervise bath time. To see her smile when she woke up—before she remembered to shut herself down. He held her when she cried and soothed her nightmares. He’d found the person inside his little girl and life would never be the same for him—no matter what happened.

  But now things were different. Things were changing. Here, in this place, with these people, Reese was beginning to find her way back. And for that he was more than willing to put up with her anger. Who knew? One of these days, she might actually open her mouth and argue with him. And there probably weren’t many parents who would admit to looking forward to that.

  Reese crossed her arms over her narrow chest, stuck her bottom lip out, and glared at him.

  He almost smiled. “You can make that face at me all day and it’s still not going to change anything.”

  Her bottom lip jutted out just a bit farther. The little girl took a deep breath and huffed it out, clearly disgusted. She pointed across the street, at Carla’s house, then made a giant X over her own heart.

  Jackson sighed and tossed a quick glance at Carla’s place himself before looking back at his daughter. “Honey,
I know Carla promised you could go with her to take the puppies to the vet today.”

  Reese planted both hands on her tiny hips and tapped the toe of one Scooby shoe against the grass.

  “But,” Jackson pointed out, “she’s not there. You can see that her Jeep’s not in the driveway. She must have already gone.”

  Reese shook her head furiously.

  “She probably just forgot,” Jackson tried to ease the sting of being left behind, but it wasn’t easy. Especially since he had the feeling he was the reason behind Carla’s early-morning escape. No doubt after what had happened between them the night before, she hadn’t wanted to be bothered with him or his daughter. And he really couldn’t blame her for it. Though how he was supposed to make Reese understand it all was beyond him.

  “Look, sweetie,” he said, going down on one knee in front of her. “Why don’t you and I go down to the beach? Build a castle or something in the sand?”

  Her mouth screwed up and she heaved a sigh worthy of Sarah Bernhardt. Clearly, he was no substitute for a cluster of puppies. But at last, she seemed to decide that he was better than nothing, and nodded.

  “Good.” Pulling her into his arms, he held her close and patted her back. He should have kept his distance from Carla. All along, he’d known and told himself that any attempt at a relationship would be a mistake. In too many ways to count. And now because of him, his daughter was disappointed and hurt. “You’ll see,” he said, keeping his voice a lot more cheerful than he felt. “We’ll have fun.”

  She stiffened in his arms and he drew back, to see her staring off down the street. It was only then he heard the muffled roar of a car engine and half-turned to watch Carla barreling down the street and then pulling into her driveway. Car parked, she climbed out, with Abbey jumping to the ground right beside her.

  Carla sighed as she stared across the street at the man and his daughter. She pushed her hair back out of her eyes and told herself that she had to get used to being around them. Whatever happened—or didn’t happen—between her and Jackson, he and Reese were an undeniable part of her life, at least for the rest of the summer. She couldn’t ignore them. She couldn’t avoid them. She could only try to keep her feelings as protected as she could.

  Then Jackson stood up, shoved one hand into his pocket, and laid the other on Reese’s shoulder. The wind ruffled his hair and Carla knew it was already too late. Her feelings were involved. For better or for worse, Jackson Wyatt had slipped into her life, and getting him out again wasn’t going to be easy or painless.

  He shifted position slightly, moving his long jean-clad legs into a wide stance. His dark blue T-shirt strained across a chest that was too broad to be ignored. And even from across the street, she felt the heat of his gaze lock on her and dip inside where that heat bubbled and frothed, demanding to be noticed.

  Whoa. She hadn’t had nearly enough coffee at Stevie’s place.

  Beside her, Abbey quivered in eager anticipation, wagged her tail, and took a step or two down the drive. Then the dog looked back at Carla as if asking permission to continue.

  “You, too, huh?” Heck, even her dog had adopted the Wyatts, most especially the little girl who so clearly needed the unconditional love that Abbey offered. And what, Carla wondered, did the girl’s father need? There was something in his eyes that called to her. Something in his touch that made her want more, despite the trouble she knew it would cause. But it was more than hormones. Like she’d told Stevie … it wouldn’t take much to make her love him. But if she did, what then? He didn’t want love. He’d had it. And, with his dead wife, had lost it.

  Besides, it wasn’t just Jackson staking a claim on her heart. There was Reese, too. If she allowed herself to love them … then when they left, her heart would be broken twice over.

  Call her coward, that just didn’t sound like a good time.

  Abbey woofed, dragging Carla’s attention back to the moment at hand. “Right,” she said. Giving a quick glance at the road to make sure there were no other cars around, Carla smiled and said, “Go ahead.”

  Abbey took off like a shot, golden hair flying, legs sprinting her toward the little girl she loved. Across the street, Reese opened her arms and laughed as Abbey rushed to her.

  Carla kept her gaze locked on the scene as she crossed the street, then slowly walked up the incline toward Jackson. All she had to do was get a grip. And not on him, despite how much she wanted to. Briefly, she wished she could take Stevie’s advice. Use him and move on. But she couldn’t. Heck, even Stevie couldn’t do it. She talked a good game, but when it came right down to it, her friend was no different from Carla when it came to the basics. Sex without emotion … some kind of connection just wasn’t an option.

  Damn it.

  When she finally shifted her gaze away from the love fest that was Abbey and Reese to look at Jackson, she almost wished she hadn’t. Staring up into his deep blue eyes, she felt that now-familiar lurch of hormone juice scuttling through her body. She locked her knees and walked the last few steps like Frankenstein. Embarrassing but preferable to melting into a puddle at his feet.

  Oh, man.

  “I didn’t expect to see you this morning,” he said, his voice a low scrape of sound in the otherwise still air.

  “Yeah, well,” she said with a shrug that belied the turmoil within, “I’m a constant source of surprises.”

  “So I’m finding out.”

  That flash of interest in his eyes set off a like flash in her bloodstream that Carla really didn’t want to think about at the moment. So she didn’t.

  “Anyway,” she said, a little louder than she’d planned, “I’ll be ready to leave for the vet’s in a few minutes. Reese?” She waited until the little girl tore her attention from Abbey to look up at her. “You still want to come with me?”

  The child nodded so fiercely, one messy pigtail swung hard against her face, slapping her in the eye. Carla grinned. Impossible not to. Were all kids this great? “Okay then. I’ll load up the puppies and then pick you up, all right?”

  Reese nodded again, a bit more carefully this time, then buried her face in Abbey’s golden hair.

  Carla started back down the incline, and before she’d taken more than a couple of steps, she heard Jackson’s footsteps behind her. But then, she didn’t have to hear him to know he was there. She felt his presence in every corpuscle. Oh, for God’s sake. She was beginning to sound like a soap opera. He laid one hand on her arm and she stopped, braced herself against the ribbon of warmth unfolding inside her, then turned around to look at him.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “For what?”

  He let his hand drop and she missed the feel of his fingertips on her skin. Yeah, she was dealing with this really well.

  “For taking Reese with you,” he was saying. “She was really looking forward to it.”

  Carla just stared at him for a long minute. Well, that was insulting. He hadn’t expected her to come through, she thought, just a little disgusted. Who was he used to dealing with that he would assume she would go back on her word? To a kid, no less. Well, fine, it wasn’t easy to face him again this morning, but that didn’t mean she was going to hide. Although, an annoyingly honest, quiet little voice in her mind whispered, she had hidden from other things before.

  That was different, though. That was—never mind. The point was, she wouldn’t hide from a man just because she was embarrassed. Hell, she was a Candellano. She’d been embarrassed regularly since she was a kid.

  “And just why was it I was supposed to not show up?”

  “Well,” he said softly, tossing a quick glance at his daughter to make sure she wasn’t listening before looking back at Carla. “Last night…”

  “Last night was last night. No biggie.” Liar. Hell, if she tried, she could probably still taste him. “Look, it was a kiss. Okay?”

  “It was more than that,” he muttered, keeping his voice pitched at a level low enough to rumble along her spine.
r />   “Yeah, you’re right,” she said. “It was a kiss and a brush-off all in one move.”

  “I wasn’t dumping you.”

  “I didn’t say dumped.”

  “Fine. I wasn’t brushing you off.”

  “Gee, and it felt so familiar.”

  “Christ, you could drive a man nuts.”

  “It’s a gift.”

  “One of many.”

  “Uh-huh.” Carla tossed her hair back out of her eyes and told herself not to listen to the nice stuff. Not to notice how good he smelled or to recall how it had felt to be held against that broad chest and caressed by those hands. Better to remember that this was a man on the rebound from a dead wife. And there was no way she could win against that kind of competition. Time to get the hell out of Dodge.

  But before she did, there was one thing she wanted clear. Lifting one hand, she shielded her eyes from the morning sunlight that seemed to outline his silhouette in a bright gold that sizzled around him. Squinting slightly, she met his gaze squarely and said, “Whatever else is going on here, Jackson, there’s one thing you should know. I always keep my promises. No matter what.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  She nodded, licked her lips, and rocked on her heels. “Okay then. Good.”

  “Fine.”

  “Wonderful.”

  He studied her for a long minute or two, his gaze hot and dark enough to fuel countless daydreams. And all she could think was, Breathe, Carla. Breathe.

  * * *

  Less than a week later, it was the Fourth of July and the town of Chandler was geared up for its annual celebration. Red, white, and blue bunting draped across Main Street and American flags fluttered from every lamppost. Kids on skateboards rode sidewalk waves as they slipped in and out of the holiday crowds, laughter drifting in their wake. A few half-hearted shouts from their deftly avoided targets followed them, but no one paid much attention.