by Helen Lacey
The truth knocked against his rib cage. He didn’t trust easily. Somehow Fiona knew that. “Karen’s relationship with Jim had nothing to do with you and Cecily. I know you’ve worked hard to develop a relationship with Cecily. It has a strong foundation now and will only become stronger the more time you spend together.”
Her eyes moistened. “What if she can’t forgive me for giving her up?”
“She can,” he replied gently. “She has. She cares about you. And I care about you, Fiona. But after the way things ended with Yvette, I’m not about to rush into something without being certain it’s going to last. The fact that Cecily wants to see us together makes it even more important to take things slowly. That’s why I asked you to come to Waradoon to meet the family. We need time to get to know one another outside of the bedroom, don’t you think?”
“But if it fades...I mean, if the attraction we have for each other disappears, what then? What do I do, Wyatt? With Cecily stuck in the middle, how do we push past that?”
“You’re predicting failure before we’ve barely begun?”
Fiona let out a heavy breath. “Because that’s what I do. I fail at relationships. I’m nearly thirty years old and the longest friendships I’ve had are with Callie and Evie and we’ve only known one another a few years. And you, I imagine, with your picture-perfect family and private-school education—I’ll bet you have the same friends you made in kindergarten.”
He didn’t deny it.
Emotion glittered in her eyes. “You’re right about me. Each time a relationship ends, I shut down. I shut down because I don’t want to be friends when it’s over. Maybe it’s some hang-up from watching my mother get ditched by one man after the other and how she tried to cling to them afterward and made a fool of herself by trying to stay friends and keeping herself involved in their lives—even after they’d moved on.”
Wyatt rocked back on his heels. “You’re not your mother, Fiona.”
The tears fell. She blinked a couple of times and drew in a shuddering breath so deep he felt it through to the marrow in his bones. Something uncurled in his chest, a strange and piercing pain that hit him with the sharpness of an arrow.
Wyatt wasn’t sure how he ended up in front of her or how she ended up in his arms.
“But how do I ever tell her the truth, Wyatt?”
He held her close. “She’ll understand. When you’re ready, when she’s ready...and I’ll be there with you when you do.”
“How can I be sure?”
He kissed the top of her head. “I know how much Cecily means to you and I’m not about to tear her out of your life. She’s your daughter, Fiona. You’re not alone anymore.”
But Wyatt knew she didn’t quite believe him.
Chapter Eleven
Saying goodbye to Cecily was the hardest thing Fiona had ever done. She’d had her three weeks and now it was over. Her heart felt as if it would shatter into a million pieces.
And saying goodbye to Wyatt just about tipped her over the edge. Exaggerated by the fact their relationship had gone from being lovers to Wyatt treating her like a protective big brother.
The intimacy was gone. He’d changed toward her. He was polite and caring and made an effort to spend time with her and Cecily, but she wasn’t fooled. The politeness was excruciating. The friendliness made her want to scream. The most intimate thing he did was grab her hand to help her up the stairs at the information kiosk when they visited the local turtle rookery. She’d told him everything. Her deepest secret. And he’d pulled away. It hurt so much she wasn’t sure how she managed to get through the last few days.
Of course, they would still have contact. He was Cecily’s guardian, and any decisions about contact with her daughter would have to be approved by Wyatt. But their relationship had become so lukewarm it was barely recognizable.
On the day she had to say goodbye, all her energy was focused on staying calm. Cecily didn’t need to see her tears. As it was, her daughter hugged her so tightly she had to choke back a sob. When Wyatt kissed her on the cheek, she’d swayed against him a little, remembering, wanting to feel the safety in his arms once more before he left her.
“Thank you for everything,” she whispered against his jaw as she pulled back.
He raised a brow. “Everything?”
“For bringing Cecily here,” she explained. “For giving me this chance.”
“It’s been good for Cecily. I owe you thanks for welcoming her into your life.”
With her heart breaking, she’d waved them off outside the B and B, watching as the rental car disappeared down the road. Evie came up behind her and dropped an arm over her shoulder.
“You okay?” her friend asked.
Fiona swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yeah.”
“She’s a remarkable girl.”
Pride swelled in her chest. “I know.”
“And the tall drink of water?” Evie asked as one brow rose dramatically.
“It’s over,” she replied and blinked the hotness from her eyes.
“You’re in love with him?”
She didn’t bother to deny it. “Crazy, huh?”
“To fall in love?” Evie shook her head. “Not at all. You’re going to see them in a couple of weeks, right?”
She nodded. “Yes, for the charity dinner.”
Everything was organized. She’d fly down for four days while Mary-Jayne stayed at her house to look after Muffin, and Callie would care for Titan. Cecily insisted they go shopping for their dresses in the city, and she was looking forward to scouring a few high-end boutiques for just the right gown to wear at the charity dinner.
“So, if you decide to stay, I’ll understand.”
Stay? Had she considered it? To leave Crystal Point would be a wrench. She loved her job, her friends and her little house. But to be close to Cecily...the idea filled her with immense joy.
“My life is here, though.”
“Home is where the heart is,” Evie replied and squeezed her shoulders assuringly. “Your daughter needs you. And Wyatt, I suspect, needs you, too...even if he doesn’t know it yet.”
* * *
“So, Cecily tells me you and the birth mother got kind of close during the big visit?”
Wyatt glared at his sister. Ellen, as usual, always said exactly what was on her mind.
“She has a name. And it’s none of your business.”
“Ha—don’t get all brooding and silent on me. I think it’s great. Cecily certainly approves of the match.”
The match? Was that what it was? Stupid. They hardly knew one another.
But he missed her like hell. And he walked around like a bear with a sore head. His family was too polite to really say anything intrusive about his increasingly obvious bad mood. Only Glynis, his assistant, told him to take a pill for whatever ailed him.
“Cecily wants a mother again,” he remarked and smiled when Ellen’s daughter grabbed hold of his knees and thrust a squishy, dog-eared picture book in his direction.
“What Cecily wants is a mother and a father who love one another.”
Wyatt looked at his sister for a moment and then hauled not-quite-two-year-old Amy into his arms. “We’ll see what happens,” he said and flipped open the book as Amy pumped her chubby legs.
Ellen huffed. “Not all women are like Yvette.”
He glanced up. “I know that.”
“Well, you probably won’t want to hear this, but it seems to me you’ve avoided getting serious with anyone since she, you know...”
“Cheated?”
Ellen shrugged. “That’s an ugly word. But yeah, since she did that. And if this...I mean, if Fiona is someone you could feel strongly about, it would be a shame to ignore those feelings.”
Wyatt raised a
brow. “Have you been watching the Hallmark channel again?”
“You can scoff all you like. But I know you as well as anyone.” She looked at the baby in his arms. “I know what you want. This,” she said, motioning toward the baby, who was now chuckling so loud it made Wyatt smile. “A home, family...someone special to curl up to at night after working at Harper’s for twelve hours a day.”
Wyatt didn’t look at his sister. As usual, Ellen made the complicated sound simple. “I’m not about to rush into anything.”
“Like you did last time?”
“Exactly.”
“Yvette was bad news for any man,” she said bluntly. “You just got caught in the firing line.”
“I asked her to marry me. I knew what I was doing.”
“So you made a mistake...suck it up,” Ellen said and grabbed her son Rory as he toddled toward her. She propped him on the seat beside her. “You think Alessio didn’t make his fair share of mistakes before he came to his senses and realized he was in love with me? We all make mistakes, Wyatt. Even a man as infallible as you can notch up one or two.”
Her words made him half smile. “Fiona’s a special woman and I won’t have her become one of those mistakes.”
She grinned. “Well, who would have thunk it? You do have a heart beating beneath that all-work exterior.”
“Funny. Take the munchkin so I can get out of here,” he said and handed Amy over.
Ellen grabbed the baby and set her beside her twin brother, younger by less than ten minutes. “Cecily told me Fiona will be here for the charity dinner?”
“That’s right,” Wyatt said as he stood.
“I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
“Grilling her, you mean?”
“I’ll be on my best behavior,” she promised. “She’s a part of Cecily’s life now, which means she’s a part of our lives, too. And the school where she teaches is one of the beneficiaries of this year’s list of charities?”
“That’s right.”
“An out-of-state recipient?” Her brows came up. “That’s unusual.”
“But not unheard-of,” he replied. “It’s a tiny school that needed help.”
“I read your recommendation and pushed it through with the directors like you asked. I wasn’t questioning their need, only your motives.”
“There’s no motive. Just a group of children who needed a new canteen.”
“And Fiona?”
“Is a caring teacher who along with the rest of the faculty is grateful for Harper’s generosity.”
“Your generosity,” Ellen corrected. “I’m not criticizing you. Actually, I think it’s rather sweet. Romantic, even.”
He rolled his eyes. “Definitely too much Hallmark. I’ll see myself out.”
As Wyatt drove back to Waradoon, he considered his sister’s words. She was right, of course. He’d pushed for the funds for the school because he thought it would help Fiona. Helping Fiona was important to him.
More to the point, Fiona was important to him. And he didn’t know what the hell to do about it. He’d kept away from her in that last week with some noble idea about giving Fiona undistracted time with her daughter. He hadn’t expected that it would make him feel so damned lonely.
* * *
Fiona’s flight to Sydney three weeks later was delayed by more than an hour. So by the time she’d checked herself off the aircraft and walked through the gate, she figured Cecily had been waiting impatiently for her arrival. Fiona heard her daughter’s squeal when she spotted her. “I’m so glad you’re here,” Cecily said in an excited whisper as they embraced.
“Me, too,” Fiona said and hugged her back, inhaling the familiar scent of Cecily’s apple shampoo, and a surge of love warmed every part of her skin.
Someone cleared their throat and Fiona looked over Cecily’s head. A smart-looking woman about sixty with brilliant blue eyes stood to the side.
“Hello,” the woman said pleasantly and thrust out her hand. “I’m Janet Harper. You must be Fiona?”
“Yes. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Harper.”
“Oh, Janet,” the other woman insisted. “I’m parked outside. Do you need to collect your bag from the carousel?”
Fiona nodded. “That would be great.”
It took about ten minutes to grab her suitcase and walk from the domestic terminal. “We thought we’d go shopping before we head for Waradoon,” Janet said as they placed Fiona’s bag in the rear of the dark blue SUV. “I know a fabulous boutique in the bay area where I’m sure you’ll find exactly the right dress for Saturday night. It’s owned by the niece of a friend of mine. My daughter Ellen bought her dress there last week.”
Fiona smiled and nodded. She was being railroaded and organized, but strangely, she didn’t mind in the least. There was something incredibly likeable about Janet Harper. In her white capri pants and collared navy-and-white-striped long-sleeved polo, enough makeup to enhance her patrician features and sporting a silvery bob blunt to her neck, she was just as Fiona might have imagined Wyatt’s mother to be.
Wyatt...
Her tongue burned with the urge to ask about him. But she didn’t. She certainly didn’t want to come across as a love-sick fool pining over a man who...who what? Liked her? Wanted her? Both pretty much summed up their brief relationship. She hadn’t heard from him since he and Cecily had left Crystal Point except for one cursory email confirming the date for Cecily’s next school-break visit.
After her emotional outburst, he’d backed off—just as she’d known he would. He’d said she wasn’t alone. However, once he had returned home, Fiona had never felt more alone in her life. Only Cecily’s daily emails or text messages and telephone calls kept Fiona from going quietly out of her mind. Of course, her daughter kept her updated on his movements, which seemed to be all about work and little else. She was reluctant to admit how pleased she was to hear that he spent most of his time at Harper’s. Imagining him out doing whatever an unattached man did was too much to bear.
“We’re delighted you could stay with us, Fiona,” Janet said, cutting through her thoughts. “Cecily has talked of nothing else but you for the past two weeks.”
“Aw, Nan,” Cecily complained from the backseat as she fiddled with her cell phone. “You’re not supposed to tell her that.”
“Well, I’ve thought of nothing else but Cecily for the past few weeks...so I guess we’re even.”
Cecily laughed loudly. “Not just me, I’ll bet.”
Fiona bit back the protest in her throat. Janet’s watchful gaze was only a bend of the neck away, and the last thing she wanted to do was look guilty and acknowledge Cecily’s announcement in any way whatsoever.
“Cecily tells me you grow orchids?”
It was a clumsy segue, and Fiona caught the edges of a smile on Janet’s lips. But she wasn’t about to enter into a conversation that had anything to do with the other woman’s son. Even though Cecily looked as though it was all she wanted to talk about. It made Fiona wonder how much her daughter had told the Harpers about the three weeks she and her uncle had spent in Crystal Point. If the look on Janet’s face was anything to go by, then it was clear Cecily had said more than enough. And curious relatives she could do without.
Thankfully, Janet answered her question and they spent the remainder of the drive discussing hobbies and nonwork pursuits. By the time they pulled into a parking space outside a very exclusive-looking store, Fiona knew everything about the older woman’s golf swing and determination to get her husband back onto the green after his recent mild heart attack. Brought on, Janet insisted, by the grief associated with his daughter’s death.
Half an hour later, Fiona was swathed in yards of luxuriously slinky emerald-green satin and knew she had found the perfect gown for the charity dinner. The color complemente
d her hair and complexion. The spaghetti straps, tightly boned bodice and floor-length skirt, which was ruched behind her knees, was just about the most gorgeous creation she’d ever seen and also had a ridiculously excessive price tag. Way too much for her teacher’s salary.
“We’ll take it,” Janet insisted to the tall, pencil-thin young woman who had selected the magnificent gown.
Fiona protested immediately. “Oh, no. But could I see something else?” she asked as she touched the lovely fabric. “Maybe something a little less—”
“We’ll take it,” Janet said again and gently silenced her. “It’s like it was made for you.”
“Yes,” Cecily agreed with a kind of two-against-one grin. “And you need shoes, too.”
Fiona half turned toward Janet. “Mrs. Harper, I couldn’t possibly afford such—”
“I insist,” she said and passed something to the salesclerk. “Call that number and you’ll reach my son’s assistant. Glynis will give you the payment details.”
Fiona’s eyes popped wide when she realized what was transpiring. “I can’t allow—”
“I’m under strict instructions,” she explained, cutting her off. “There’s no point in being stubborn about it. He always gets what he wants.”
He got me into bed within a week.
Although she wasn’t about to announce that fact to his mother.
Fiona nodded acquiescingly. She’d deal with Wyatt later. “Thank you. It’s very generous of...everyone.”
Janet patted her arm. “Good girl. And later,” she said in a lower voice as she leaned forward and pretended to adjust the narrow strap, “you can tell me exactly what you’ve done to my son that’s got him so wound up he can barely string a sentence together without snapping people’s heads off.”
“What I’ve done?” she echoed, mortified and confused. “I don’t—”
“Later,” Janet insisted. “And now,” she said to the clerk, “let’s match this dress with a wicked pair of heels.”
