by Nicola Marsh
“Should I talk to him about it?”
Cilla nodded. “Couldn’t hurt. I reinforced how much we all love him and made him promise not to do it again.”
“Thanks.” Jake hugged her. “For everything. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
“You’d be surprised what we can do when we have to,” she said. “I shouldn’t be long. Having breakfast at the diner.”
“Alone?” Jake smirked and damned if heat didn’t flush her cheeks.
“None of your business,” she said, giving him a shove in the direction of the house. “Go give that boy some TLC.”
“While someone else gives you some, hopefully,” Jake murmured, but loud enough she could hear.
Ignoring him, she got in the car and drove away.
She didn’t need TLC. She needed a reality check. Or to give Bryce one, more like it.
She could do this. One quick breakfast and she was done.
Easy.
Half an hour later, Cilla realized nothing about sitting across a table from Bryce was easy.
Despite the usual morning bustle at Don’s Diner, they kept up a steady flow of conversation, only stopping to devour pancakes with maple syrup, bacon and eggs over easy.
Bryce pretended that her meltdown at his place hadn’t happened and she was happy to play alongside him in Denial Land. It was a place she knew well. She’d lived there her entire marriage.
Bryce waited until a waitress had refilled his coffee cup before fixing her with a stare that smacked of interrogation. “Are we going to talk about what happened the other night?”
The eggs in Cilla’s stomach curdled. So much for denial.
“Not much to say, really.” She sipped at her water. It did little to ease the tightness in her throat.
“This thing between us isn’t going to go away.” He clasped his hands together and rested them on the table. “I won’t give up on us no matter how hard you push me away.”
Annoyed by the flicker of hope his sincerity sparked, she slammed the glass down harder than intended and water splashed everywhere. “This isn’t the time or place to discuss it.”
“Then name a time and place and I’ll be there.” He leaned forward. “We’re adults. We need to deal with this.”
“Don’t patronize me,” she said, wishing she’d never come. “I know we’re adults. But what I meant was, there’s no point discussing anything. You and me? Not going to happen.”
To her surprise he stood, fished notes out of his wallet and flung them onto the table. “You’ve got avoidance honed to a fine art. So when you’re ready to face facts and not hide behind your past or whatever excuses you want to dredge up, you know where to find me.”
“Nothing to face,” she said to his retreating back, churlish and childish.
He ignored her and kept walking.
28.
Sara hadn’t been this jittery since Delivery Boy had asked her out on a date all those years ago.
She’d frittered the day away, alternating between cooking and cleaning the house, determinedly staying indoors to avoid any chance of a run-in with Jake.
Ridiculous, considering she wasn’t a teen anymore and a kiss didn’t mean anything beyond giving in to a spur-of-the-moment attraction. Because that’s what they’d done. Given in to the temptation of a moonlit night, a balmy breeze and an extended dry spell. They’d both admitted as much.
It meant nothing. An impulse. A spur of the moment thing that shouldn’t be given more than cursory attention. But all the dismissive rationalizing in the world couldn’t detract from how amazing that kiss had been. In fact, amazing didn’t come close. Stupendous didn’t do it justice either.
“Damn it,” she muttered, dousing the bath with bleach and scrubbing harder.
She didn’t want to mull over how astounding that kiss had been. Waste of time, considering she didn’t want to take it further. Because the more she replayed that kiss in her head, the harder it was to ignore how he’d made her feel for a brief moment: like she could envisage a future beyond guilt and sadness and retribution.
Scrubbing until her arms ached and the fumes made her head too fuzzy to think, she followed up her bathroom cleaning frenzy with a total kitchen cleanout. Mindless, repetitive, mundane activities designed to keep her busy and not thinking about that kiss.
By suppertime, she’d added watching reality TV and reading the same paragraph repeatedly to her distraction methods. When the phone rang, she’d dozed off, so it took her a few seconds to snatch it up and utter a breathless, “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me.”
Damn. If she’d been awake and seen Jake’s caller ID, she wouldn’t have answered. So much for spending the day trying to forget that kiss. The moment he’d uttered those three words in his deep, rumbly voice, her body remembered every moment of his lips on hers, his hands all over her.
She managed a sedate, “Hey,” which was better than hanging up, her first instinct.
“Sorry I didn’t get around to seeing you today like I’d hoped.”
“That’s okay.”
Better than okay. If his voice did these things to her insides, seeing him in person after that kiss would’ve sent her into meltdown.
When he didn’t speak, she added, “Everything all right?”
“Not really.” His heartfelt sigh echoed down the line and she found herself caring despite her self-talk to keep things platonic after last night.
“You sound overwhelmed.”
“Olly ran away this morning.”
“Oh my God. Is he okay?” Stupid question, because if he wasn’t Jake wouldn’t have waited until now to call her.
“Yeah, he was only gone for half an hour. Cilla realized and found him.”
Sara had taken her eyes off Lucy for a few moments at a department store one time and she’d vanished. Those three minutes it had taken to find her at the nearby haberdashery counter had been the longest of her life. She knew the blind panic, the sick stomach, the icy numbness that invaded every cell.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she said.
“I had no idea ’til I got home. Cilla was a real trouper.”
Jake sounded like he’d aged three decades and her heart went out to him.
“Olly seems really happy. Why did he do it?”
There was a long pause. “Apparently he saw us kissing last night, thought we’d get married, have our own kids, and not want him around anymore.”
Stunned, Sara clutched the phone to her ear. “Hell.”
Jake’s dry chuckle held little amusement. “That was only part of it but basically Olly’s got abandonment issues and we had to reassure him.”
“Sure,” she said, a familiar dread curdling her stomach. The dread of a parent worrying over a child. She’d done it with Lucy and had ultimately lost her.
No way could she start worrying about Olly. The fact that she was indicated she’d grown too attached already.
“I’m really glad he’s okay. If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”
“Thanks. I was hoping we could go on a picnic tomorrow—”
“Sorry, I’m busy.” It sounded harsh even to her ears so she softened her refusal with a legitimate excuse. “I’m under pressure prepping for the fair, so I’ll be swamped for the next week or so.”
“Okay.” Jake sounded wounded and she gritted her teeth to stop from blurting how sorry she was for giving him the wrong idea with that kiss last night. “Talk to you soon.”
“Yeah.” Sara hung up and pressed her fingers to her eyes to stop the sting of tears.
This is what happened when she opened her heart again.
She’d been doing okay the last fifteen months. Coming to terms with her grief. Moving on.
Detachment was good. She’d made progress. But in letting Jake, Olly and Cilla into her life, she’d reopened old wounds.
Her actions had caused Olly to run away.
No way in hell would she be respon
sible for hurting another child again.
Ever.
With a heavy heart, Sara dragged herself upstairs to bed. Not that it would make much difference. She wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.
29.
Jake gave Sara space for a few days.
He knew why she’d given him the brush-off.
Guilt.
The moment he’d told her the truth about why Olly had run away, he’d wished he’d lied. It had been a dumbass move. It wasn’t until he’d hung up that he realized she’d probably blame herself for Olly seeing their kiss and running away. Hell, he’d done it himself.
But he’d been so morose all day, consumed by his own guilt, that he’d needed someone to talk to and she was the only woman he trusted next to Cilla. His aunt had returned from breakfast looking like thunder and he’d figured she’d done enough in finding Olly in the first place, so he hadn’t wanted to burden her.
Rose hadn’t been an option. She had enough going on without him adding his incompetence at caring for her son to the list. She would’ve freaked if she knew Olly had run away.
Sara had seemed like the perfect candidate to talk him down. Instead, he’d only served to bring her down too.
He’d wanted to see her the morning after their kiss. Had planned on taking Olly with him so it wouldn’t be too awkward. But he’d arrived home to the news that Olly had run away and he’d spent the day showering attention on him to reassure him that his words weren’t empty promises and that he would always be there for him.
Olly had seemed fine, with no lingering effects from his ordeal, and it wasn’t until he’d tucked him into bed that Jake called Sara.
It had been four days now. Four days in which she’d probably been beating herself up. He’d respected her wishes in keeping his distance. But he missed her and wanted to know she was okay.
A phone call wouldn’t cut it. She could give him the old heave-ho again too easily.
So he packed a container of leftover apple crumble from dinner, checked in on Olly to find him sound asleep, and told Cilla where he’d be.
She didn’t say anything, but a quirk of her eyebrow spoke volumes. She hadn’t mentioned the kiss but the fact he was heading over to Sara’s at eight p.m. could be misconstrued.
“Won’t be long,” he said, feeling like a naughty schoolboy sneaking out to neck with his girlfriend.
“Okay.” Cilla returned to her book, lips set in a grim line, like she wanted to say something but was trying hard not to.
He didn’t stick around to hear what that was.
Walking to Sara’s gave him time to mentally rehearse what he’d say. But all that went to crap when she opened the door. She wore cow-print pajama bottoms and a fitted black camisole, and had her hair in pigtails.
She was adorable.
But her frown didn’t scream welcome so he turned on the charm.
“I brought you my world-famous apple crumble.” He held out the container with a proud grin. “You haven’t lived ’til you’ve tasted it.”
“You made it?”
She made it sound like he had more chance of manning the next space shuttle than cooking an edible dessert.
“Of course. Would I claim I had if I didn’t?”
The corners of her mouth twitched. An improvement on the disapproving frown. “Maybe not. Thanks for this. I’ll have it later.”
“Not so fast.” He snatched the container out of her reach and held it aloft. “I haven’t had my share yet and I’ve packed enough for two.”
She gestured at her outfit. “I’m not exactly dressed for visitors.”
“I’m a friend, not a visitor, and you could wear a hessian bag and still look gorgeous. So let’s devour this delicious crumble and then you can kick me out.” He semi-pushed his way in and with a resigned sigh she stepped aside.
“You’re very pushy,” she said, closing the door more loudly than necessary.
“So I’ve been told.” He headed for the kitchen, pleased he’d got this far. Once she had a taste of his crumble, she’d be putty in his hands. He hoped.
“How’s Olly?” she asked, setting out bowls and spoons on the table.
“Good. Our relationship has actually improved since his runaway stunt.” He served the crumble into two bowls. “Made me realize exactly how vulnerable kids can be despite putting on a brave face.”
“You know it was our fault,” she said, sitting at the table and tucking one leg underneath her, looking like a forlorn waif.
“I thought that too, initially. Was beating myself up over it, before I had a chat to Olly and realized it was a whole bunch of stuff he’s been bottling up. Mostly over missing his mom.” He handed her a bowl and spoon. “So stop feeling guilty and pushing me away because of it.”
“I’m not,” she said, her gaze shifting away, her lie hollow.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, placing his hand over hers where it rested on the table. “You know that, right?”
“It’s not you I’m afraid of.” She snatched her hand out from under his and picked up a spoon. “I’m not good with getting too close to people these days.”
“I think you’ve been doing just fine.” He pointed at her bowl. “Now get some of that crumble into you and prepare to fall at my feet in gratitude.”
“Better add monstrous ego to your dubious charms,” she said, but at least he’d got a smile out of her.
“You mock, but wait ’til you taste it.”
He watched her spoon a generous helping into her mouth, then wished he hadn’t as her lips curved, reminding him of how soft they’d felt under his. Her rapturous expression wasn’t helping either.
“Wow, you truly are a master,” she said, mumbling between mouthfuls she couldn’t shovel in fast enough. “This is divine.”
“Told you so.” He finished his serving quickly, not tasting much of it as he was fixated on Sara’s mouth. “Seconds?”
She glanced at the empty container. “But there’s nothing left.”
“Who said I’m talking about crumble?”
She laughed and pointed at the door. “Get out.”
“But you look so adorable in those cow PJs—”
“Out. Now.” She playfully whacked him on the arm and he smiled, glad they were back on friendly footing.
“I’ve missed you, you know.” He tried to reach for her but she slipped away, sliding her chair out of reach.
“I haven’t missed you and I haven’t lost sleep over it.”
The faint dark circles under her eyes were testament to that lie.
“We should go out on a date.”
“Maybe,” she said, sounding less than enthused, her brows knitted in a frown. “Let me get this fair out of the way, then I’ll think about it.”
“My ego is smarting from that resounding endorsement.” Meanwhile, silently, Jake pinned his hopes on the fact she hadn’t refused outright.
Her tentative smile made something squirm in his chest. “Why don’t you take your bruised ego home and let me do some more work before bed.”
“Okay.” When they stood, he swooped in for a kiss, catching her off guard.
He captured her mouth for a few delicious, illicit seconds before she pulled away.
“Go.” She pointed at the door, her stare amused rather than disapproving.
“Yes, Ma’am.” With a wink, he backed away, keeping his gaze locked on hers until he reached the door.
He had a date with Sara to look forward to after the fair.
Life was good.
30.
As Sara’s final art class wound to a close and every child except Olly filed out, she came to a startling realization.
She was going to miss this.
Being watched by rapturous faces, being asked inane yet curious questions, being surrounded by youthful exuberance, had made her confront the darkness that had consumed her for far too long.
She’d never forget Lucy. She’d grieve for her darling little girl every da
y of her life. But the motley summer art class at Redemption Elementary had made her feel again and it wasn’t as painful as she’d feared.
“Sara.” Olly tugged at the hem of her smock. “You’re the best teacher ever.”
“Thanks, Olly.” She tweaked the end of his nose. “And you’re a talented artist.”
“Really?” He fairly glowed with her praise as he cast a critical eye at the crayon sketch he’d completed. “But I just draw stuff. I don’t burn wood like you do.”
“There are many different types of art,” she said, pointing to a stack of books on Andy Symes’s desk. “Writers are artists. They paint pictures with words.”
“I guess so.” He looked skeptical. “Drawing stuff is more fun though.”
“I think so too. Want to help me pack up?”
“Yeah, though doing art is more fun than packing up.”
She laughed. “There’s not much to do.”
They worked alongside each other, putting away supplies and wiping down tables. Sara couldn’t help but surreptitiously watch Olly, taking delight in his earnestness as he completed every task she set him.
He was one cute kid and she’d miss him when he left. Jake hadn’t mentioned how Olly’s mom was doing but she hoped for Olly’s sake they’d be reunited soon. Children needed their moms.
“You’re looking at me funny.” Olly frowned. “Did I do something wrong?”
Busted.
Sara banished the image of Lucy that still popped into her head whenever she was around a sweet kid like Olly and forced a smile. “I’m looking at you funny because you’ve done an amazing job helping me clean up.”
“Cool.” He sat on the edge of a desk, legs swinging. “Are you coming to the fair with us?”
Sara had no intention of embarking on a family-like excursion with Jake and Olly, despite Jake’s reassurances that Olly was okay after his runaway episode. She couldn’t handle being responsible if Olly did something again because of her.
“I’ll be at the fair, so I’ll see you there.”
Olly shrugged. “Okay. But if you don’t come with us, Uncle Jake won’t buy you popcorn and candy floss and corndogs like he promised me.”
