by Helen Lacey
“My magic?” she echoed, feeling more than a little spun out by his suggestion.
“Yeah,” he said and smiled. “I’m sure you’ll be able to coax a few volunteers.”
Fiona planted her hands on her hips. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because the kids need a canteen,” he replied. “And I need something to do for the next two weeks.”
Was he so bored? It miffed her a bit. This was her home. Did he find the place so lacking? Does he find me lacking? Of course he did. She’d never been able to hold any man’s attention. Why would Wyatt be any different? Not that I actually want his attention.
“Sure,” she replied, not one to pass up such an offer. The school did need a new building. Refusing help would be foolish. “I’ll have to speak with Annette Brewer, the principal. But I’m certain she’ll be only too happy to accept your generosity.”
“Good. Once we get started with plans and submit for council approval, I reckon it will be about four months and you’ll have a new canteen for your kids.”
Fiona drew in some air. “Thank you, Wyatt. We should get going,” she suggested, pushing back her budding irritation because he might be bored with her, and her growing attraction for him. “By the way, I promised Cecily I’d take her shopping tomorrow for our Christmas-in-July celebration.”
They walked past the administration block in step with one another.
“No socks.”
She snapped her head sideways. “Socks?”
“From Cecily,” he replied. “No socks, ties or, heaven forbid, handkerchiefs.”
Fiona laughed and it urged her a little away from her bad mood. “The perfect gift for the man who has everything.”
“Not everything,” he corrected.
They were at the car and she allowed him to open her door. “Is there anything you’d like?” she asked and felt the heat rise up between them the moment the words left her mouth.
Wyatt moved closer, and Fiona pushed back against the door. “Anything?”
“Yes. To ease your boredom maybe?”
“My what?”
“Isn’t that why you want to help out here?” she asked. “Because you’re bored?”
He reached across and looped a lock of her hair between his fingers. “Ah, Fiona, you know, you’re killing me,” he said softly and touched her cheek. “I’m not bored...I’m frustrated as hell.”
“Sorry.” Fiona shuddered out a breath. His fingertips, warm against her skin, curved over her jaw and cupped
her chin.
“Me, too.” His thumb traced her bottom lip. “Sorry, I can’t stop thinking about kissing you again. Or stop imagining what it would be like to—”
A car passed and beeped loudly. Fiona recognized Cameron’s police patrol vehicle immediately and ducked sideways. “Please,” she said as the car traveled up the road. “Someone could see and I...” She stopped and straightened. “Please, take me back.”
He pulled back instantly. “Of course.”
When they were both in the car, Fiona summoned the gumption to say what was on her mind. There was no point in putting it off. It had to be said. “Wyatt, I can’t be alone with you like this,” she admitted and felt her heart tighten. It was right to say. But it hurt. It hurt so much. “I’m not going to get involved with you any more than I already am. It’s blurring...the reason you’re here—and Cecily. I have to stay focused. I won’t make this situation about myself. I have a chance to get back something I thought I’d lost, and I don’t want to risk that. Not for anything.”
Not even for you.
He took a moment, then spoke. “It won’t happen again.”
“That’s what we said yesterday,” she said on a sigh. “You know, I’ve been alone most of my life. Even when I lived with my uncle, I was alone. He tried, but most days I felt as though I lived in this singular vacuum, apart from everyone and everything. And now...” She paused, eyes down, head bent. “Now, for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel alone. And I’m not sure if it’s because of Cecily...or because of you.”
“Fiona, I—”
“Let me finish, please,” she protested and raised her hands before dropping them back into her lap. “There’s no point in whitewashing this. The truth is, I don’t want to find that at the end of these few weeks I have a whole lot of...feelings. I don’t want to fall for you. I don’t want to fall for anyone. I just want a chance to be what Cecily needs me to be. I love my daughter,” she said. “And she’s all I have space inside myself for.”
She noticed he gripped the steering wheel. “I’ll take you back.”
As he started the ignition and eased the car onto the road, she knew she’d made her point. In two and a half weeks, he’d be gone. After that, she figured Cecily would commute during holidays to visit. He wouldn’t have to return to Crystal Point again.
The realization didn’t settle the discontent in her heart. Or the knowledge she was in deep. Way deep.
* * *
“So, he’s building the school canteen himself?”
Fiona sat lotus-style on her sofa and nodded to her friend. Callie dipped a spoon into a tub of vanilla ice cream topped with chocolate sauce and Oreo cookies and looked at her after she’d asked the question.
“His company is supplying the funds for plans and materials,” Fiona replied. “We’re organizing the labor from this end.”
“And he’s doing this because...?” M.J. asked as she grabbed a spoon and dug into her own tub of chocolate-mint.
Fiona shrugged and ignored the way her stomach rolled. Thinking about Wyatt had been off her agenda for two days. She wasn’t about to put him back on it. “To help the school.”
“Or to get into your good books?” Callie suggested with raised brows.
“Or your pants?” M.J. offered with a delightful squeal.
Callie tossed a cushion at her sister-in-law. “Behave,” she admonished playfully.
Fiona did her best impression of a poker face. “He wants something to do, that’s all. I suspect he’s bored since Cecily and I are together most days.”
“I like the whole panty concept better,” M.J. said and scooped a mouthful of ice cream. “Much more exciting.”
“Will you let up?” Evie scolded her sister and dipped an Oreo into ice-cold milk.
M.J. smiled and raised her provocative brows. “Although, if you are going to toss your panties, who better than that gorgeous man to catch them?”
It was Friday night and her friends had abandoned their pottery class at Evie’s studio for an evening at Fiona’s. Cecily, Lily and another friend were in the guest bedroom playing Wii karaoke and shoving down copious amount of soda, potato chips and cold pizza.
“I think it’s admirable that he wants to help. So, instead of questioning his motives, accept it as an act of goodwill,” Evie said. She appeared to be the only one not romanticizing the whole situation. And Fiona needed an ally tonight.
“Exactly,” Fiona managed to squeak out, still reeling from the whole tossed-panties idea.
“He’s taken over my office,” Evie said as she dipped another cookie. “Not that I mind, of course, if it means the school will benefit. But he doesn’t talk much. Seems like a man with a lot on his mind.”
Fiona offered a smile, which didn’t quite cut the mark, and Callie pushed herself off the sofa. “Let’s go and make some more tea,” her friend suggested.
She nodded and followed her friend down the hallway. Once they reached the kitchen, Callie turned. “Do you like him?” she asked.
Fiona stepped back. “Like him? If you mean—”
“You know exactly who I mean. And what I mean.”
She didn’t bother to deny it. “Sure. I like him.”
“And he likes you, right?”
“I guess.
”
Callie’s blue eyes widened. “But you’re avoiding him?”
She shrugged. “We’re keeping it real.”
“What does that mean?”
“The situation,” Fiona replied. “Why he’s here. Why Cecily’s here. I want to have a relationship with my daughter.”
“Who says you can’t have both?”
“I say.” She grabbed hold of the counter. “I never get the guy, Callie. I always get the let’s-be-friends speech at the end of it. And when it’s done and dusted, I never speak with them again because I’m so humiliated. I don’t want that to happen here. I won’t let it. Do I like him? Yes. Do I want him? Yes. But I won’t get wrapped up in some romantic notion...not when there’s so much at stake.”
“Cecily?”
She nodded. “Loving a child...it’s life-altering.”
“Yes,” Callie said and watched her. “But so is loving a man.”
She didn’t know that. Her few and brief relationships had been infatuations, nothing more. And when over they’d left her what? Not heartbroken. Not anything really. It kept her safe, whole. Becoming unhinged, being all feelings. She thought she wanted it, but now, when looking directly into the face of those kinds of feelings, Fiona was terrified.
She drew in a breath, grappling for a strength she didn’t quite feel. “I am not going to fall in love with Wyatt Harper.”
I’m not...
* * *
On Saturday morning, Wyatt opened his emails and took a call from Glynis, who worked through his request to incorporate the Crystal Point School as a recipient of the Harper charity fund. He also emailed his sister Ellen, who was on the board, and asked her to push the request through quickly. Once the correct paperwork was filed and the board in agreement, he could take steps to submit the building plans through council. He’d forgotten how much he liked creating plans. Since being drafted into Harper’s only two years after graduating from college, he hadn’t had much use for his architecture degree. His father’s second heart attack had changed Wyatt’s plan to work outside of the family business for a few years before taking over the reins of the company.
But drawing up the plans for the small school building was satisfying and it shifted his mind off other things.
Fiona...
He hadn’t seen her for three days, although he got daily updates from Cecily about their activities—from shopping to horse riding to a girls’ night in with a group of friends. His niece was happier than she’d been for a long time. Maybe ever.
It was strange how that realization didn’t bring up a whole lot of loyalty issues. He was usually fiercely protective of his family. But his loyalties were conflicted. He liked Fiona. And his attraction for her had grown from a slow-burning awareness to a fierce need.
And she wasn’t giving him the time of day.
It stung. Even though he understood her motives. She was right. Getting involved was out of the question. But logic, once a strong ally in his organized life, had deserted him. He didn’t feel the least bit logical when it came to Fiona. Because his desire for her, which a week ago, he was convinced, had been about physical attraction and sex, had somehow morphed into something else. Something deeper.
He liked her. And he...missed her.
Idiot.
She was messing with his head. He never got this way. Not even Yvette had distracted him so much. Why was that? Why did someone he’d known mere weeks twist his insides like a pretzel? And why the hell was she ignoring him? Okay, so she didn’t want to get involved. He didn’t, either, did he?
Except all he could think about was seeing her again.
Chapter Seven
“So, how come you don’t have a boyfriend?”
Fiona was in the kitchen making lasagna for her daughter’s sleepover at Lily’s house when Cecily popped her head into the room with Muffin in her arms and asked the question.
“What?”
“A boyfriend?” her daughter asked, moving into the room. “It’s just that you’re really pretty and a nice person—you should have a boyfriend.”
Fiona placed the cheese grater on the countertop. Talks about boyfriends were part of being a parent but she wasn’t exactly prepared for them. Plus, she’d imagined the talk would be about her daughter’s dating life, not her own. “It’s not that simple. I haven’t met anyone I liked for a while.”
Cecily looked at her and smiled. “Do you like Uncle Wyatt?”
The million-dollar question. And one she should have expected. “Well, I—”
“I mean, I know you like him,” Cecily said, cutting her off as she placed Muffin on the floor. “But do you like him?”
Fiona sucked in a breath, fought back her embarrassment and faced her daughter. “Where’s this all coming from?”
Cecily shrugged again, less enthusiastic this time, and pulled out a chair. When she slumped into it, Fiona knew her daughter had something big on her mind. In the brief time she’d known Cecily, Fiona had been in awe of her happy-go-lucky personality and constant smiles. But in the past couple of days, as their relationship had developed, she’d observed something else. A mother’s instinct perhaps. She wasn’t sure. But there was something going on with her.
“I don’t know,” she said after a moment. She rested her elbows on the table and propped her chin in her palm. “I only thought it would be sort of nice if you guys liked each other in that way.”
That way? The problem was Fiona did like Wyatt in that way. Very much. But anything happening between them was out of the question. She’d made her resolve very clear.
“We’ve become friends,” she said carefully. “And we both agree that you are what’s important at the moment.”
Cecily’s eyes widened and she gave a little smile. “So, if it’s all about me, I should get what I want, right?”
Fiona stilled. “Er—that depends on what it is.”
“I want what I used to have,” she said and looked as though she were doing her best to sound cheerful. “Look, don’t get me wrong, Nan and Pop are great and I love them a lot. But they’re my grandparents and they’re old. I know they are pretty cool for their age, but Pop’s already had a couple of heart attacks and what if...what if they...die soon?”
Fiona’s heart surged. “Is that what you’re afraid will happen?”
“I guess.” She nodded and let out a heavy sigh. “I know Uncle Wyatt is my legal guardian, and he tries to spend time with me when he can. But he’s busy and has to run the company and can only get to Waradoon on the weekends. I just thought that if he got, you know, married or something, then it would be like it was when my parents were alive. Like a proper family.”
Her words cut through Fiona like a blade. A proper family? How often had she longed for that when she was a child? Even now, in her deepest heart, the longing remained. And her daughter, who had endured so much loss in her short life, was now echoing her own secret wish.
“There are all kinds of families and each one is unique.” She took the seat next to Cecily and grasped her hand. “Your grandparents love you. As does your uncle, and I’m sure your aunts feel the same. And I love you.”
Cecily’s bright blue-gray eyes glittered. “I know. I’m grateful for everyone caring about me, really I am. But having a mother and father and being together all the time...that’s how it should be. Even when I knew my parents weren’t happy together sometimes, at least we were together. Being together is what’s important.”
Fiona caught the tremor in Cecily’s voice. It wasn’t the first time her daughter had intimated that Jim and Karen Todd’s relationship had been anything other than perfect. But all marriages went through challenging times, didn’t they?
“They fought,” Cecily said quietly, as though unsure if she should be saying anything about it. “Not always. I w
asn’t supposed to know. But I heard them sometimes. I’d hear my mother crying and Dad kept saying he was sorry all the time. And then it sort of got better. Except then they died.”
Fiona squeezed her hand. “It’s normal to want things that make you feel safe.”
“I guess. I just don’t want Uncle Wyatt to marry someone I don’t like,” she said, sounding every one of her fourteen years. “Like what’s-her-name.”
Fiona was pretty sure Cecily knew exactly what the other woman’s name was, and smiled to herself. “Well, unfortunately, I don’t think you get a say in who he marries.”
Neither do I.
“But if he married you, we’d be a real family.”
Marry Wyatt? Sweet heaven. Despite the crazy fluttering in her belly, Fiona knew she had to put a halt to Cecily’s active imagination. “We’re not getting married. We’re not in love. And that’s the only reason why two people should get married.”
It sounded good. It sounded as if she meant every word. But in her head it sounded too good. I’m trying too hard here.
“So, let’s get the lasagna cooked for this sleepover and I’ll drop you at Lily’s.”
Cecily smiled. “Sure. And thanks, Fiona—thanks for listening.”
“Anytime,” she said and hugged her as they stood.
Maybe I’ll get this mothering thing right after all.
* * *
Wyatt pulled the car outside Fiona’s at precisely three minutes to seven. He’d had five hours to figure out what he was doing and came up with zilch.
I shouldn’t be here.
Too late to back out now, he thought as he walked up the driveway. He heard her little dog bark. The door opened before he made it to the bottom step.
She looked beautiful.
So lovely he could hardly draw breath, which seemed to have become an all-too-frequent reaction when he was within six feet of her. She wore a long white skirt and soft green sweater scooped out wide over her shoulders. The awareness quickly turned into an all-out surge of raw hunger so fierce he could barely swallow.
Great start.
“Wyatt?”
