Breathe (4 page)

“I shouldn't have come here.”

His sigh was heavy as he ran a hand through his thick hair. “Where else would you have gone?”

That stung. She knew she'd been light on options but having it pointed out wasn't kind. But she'd be damned if she'd stay and let him insult her, belittle her. He understood nothing.

“I'm not destitute, Jace. I thought it would help being with a friend. I see now I should have simply escaped to one of the Morelli properties where we could have remained unknown. And unjudged.

“I'm not judging you.”

She straightened her spine. “Yes, you are. Do you really think so little of me? Is that how you see me? A screw-up who needs to have her messes fixed?”

“You were stupid to marry him.” His hips came away from the counter as they faced off.

“Just consider that a fix to the mess you left behind.”

As the words echoed through the kitchen, they each stepped back. Anna's heart thumped heavily. She'd crossed a line, one they'd tacitly agreed never to speak of again. She couldn't look in his eyes. She was too ashamed.

“Yes, Anna,” he murmured, “you cleaned up that mess. I left you to fix it and you did.”

Was that hurt in his voice? Or bitterness? She couldn't tell. She only knew the pain hadn't diminished in all the years that had passed. “I screwed up with Stefano,” she admitted. Perhaps if she did that they could move past the hurtful things they had—and hadn't—just said. “I wasn't home enough, I know that now. I was selfish, and it kills me inside to admit it. If only I'd been there. It wouldn't have happened if I'd been…present in my marriage.”

“What could you have done? You couldn't have prevented his accident.”

“I could have prevented a lot of things.”

Guilt fell heavy on her shoulders as the words hung in the air. She'd taken for granted everything would work out as it was supposed to. She'd turned a blind eye to the signs and had pretended to have the perfect life. She didn't like what that said about her. And when she'd finally gotten up the courage to do something about it, the results had been disastrous. She should have paid more attention to her marriage, rather than taking it for granted.

“Anna…” Jace opened his mouth to somehow answer her, but crying filtered down the stairs and he turned his head to the sound.

“I need to get the children,” she murmured, sliding out of the kitchen and leaving him there alone.

She'd completely misread what he'd meant, he realized, pushing his fingers through his hair. He shouldn't have let her provoke him into saying things best left unsaid. She might have made the bad choices, but he'd forced her into them. Even though what she'd done had shocked him, he still found he couldn't blame her for it. What choice had he left her? And yes, he blamed her, but not the way she thought.

She wasn't responsible for Stefano's death, and this wasn't a mess of her making to clean up. Maybe Jace had made himself scarce over the years, but each time they'd crossed paths it had infuriated him to see the pompous Stefano dampen down any spark Anna had until she barely resembled the carefree woman he remembered. But she shouldn't have married Stefano in the first place. Jace had wanted so much more for her, and instead she'd let herself be swept away by a handsome face and a charming manner. All the bastard had done was to break her heart and leave her alone. It was so obvious when he looked in her eyes that she was hurting. If the man were still alive, Jace would happily make his life a living hell for what he'd done to Anna.

He'd do anything to take that pain away. It was why he'd let her stay. To prove to her that their friendship still meant something. To give her a safe place to heal. But it wasn't working out that way and he knew why.

They had too much history. A history that made nothing plain and simple. He set his jaw, took out a head of lettuce, and savagely ripped it into pieces.

Chapter Three

Anna came back to the kitchen with Matteo holding her hand and little Aurelia in the crook of her arm. Motherhood had softened her, and Jace's pulse quickened as the weight of the baby pulled her blouse taut across the fullness of her breasts. Jace turned back to the stove, hiding his reaction to her appearance.

He wasn't accustomed to these scenes of domesticity, especially not with Anna in the center of it. She'd always been so chic, so…oh, he wasn't sure. Perhaps an air of being unattainable? She'd been free and blithe and confident in herself. It was what had attracted him in the first place. Wanting something he couldn't have.

Seeing her like this—with her hair slightly messed and her makeup less than perfect, and with her babies—well, it was a completely different Anna. She was earthy and beautiful and it threw him off balance.

The reality of it was this could have been
them
if he hadn't been such a fool. Instead, he'd thrown her straight into Stefano's arms. He might not be father material, but he'd do anything to make up for his part in the whole mess. Even put up with a toddler and a baby added in for good measure.

He poured the last of the broth into the risotto and stirred, trying to block out the sound of Anna's soft voice speaking to Matteo in Italian. The words sounded lyrical and strange, and a swell of resentment rose. It was her father, the damned stubborn Roberto Morelli, who insisted the family speak Italian as well as English. The old man had used it often enough when Jace was a boy, simply to remind him of his place and exclude him from conversations meant for family, not the help.

But Anna hadn't followed her father's example. Neither had Alex. Jace's good memories centered around them and the fun they'd had when Roberto wasn't stomping around like a puffed-up dictator.

He frowned, staring down into the pot. An hour with her and he was already feeling the old anger he'd worked hard to eradicate. He thought of his mom and dad in their little house outside Saanich. All his growing years they'd merely scraped by, never having any money for any extras or extravagances. He had seen what a toll it took on them, had seen their faces when they'd had to tell him no when he'd wanted something. He'd sworn the day he'd seen his mother cry as she counted change in her purse that he—and they—would never want for anything again. Now he supported them and himself. He had wanted more. He'd wanted to provide for his family. To be good enough for her, and Anna hadn't been able to see that. She'd called him a proud fool and had run away crying. Well, maybe he had been. But he wasn't going to be dirt under Roberto Morelli's boots. And he damn well wasn't going to be poor ever again, and neither would anyone he cared about.

“Can I help?”

Her soft voice was at his shoulder and the hair on the nape of his neck prickled. “Really, Anna, I don't mind. I cook for myself all the time.” He avoided her eyes and busied himself slicing off rounds of bread.

“Jace…”

When he turned to face her, her dark eyes pleaded with his. “I…I don't want to feel like a guest.” At his raised brow, she continued on. “I don't need to be pampered. I need…”

“What do you need, Anna?”

And damned if he didn't hold his breath, waiting for her answer.

“I need a place to belong. A place to be me. Or at least…” She paused again. “Oh, Jace, you've known me for years. I came here to be safe. I need a place to
find
me, and not be worried about who's going to witness it. I've been Roberto's daughter and Stefano's wife for so long I don't even remember who
I
am. If that makes any sense. I need to trust you. I know you disapprove. I'm asking you to let that go. For old times' sake.”

It made more sense than she knew. His heart pounded as he realized she still trusted him after all he'd put her through, and all he'd said today. The fact she trusted him to provide that refuge staggered him. And yet, he couldn't help the feeling that there was expectation attached to it.

“Anna.” He wanted to reach out and touch the creamy skin of her face, but something held him back. “My home is your home. For as long as you need. That's what families do.”

He looked at the floor where Matteo shook a small toy in front of Aurelia and she giggled, showing four small teeth. “It's amazing to see you with children.”

She laughed, popping the sliced bread on a sheet he'd set out and brushing the tops with oil. “Matteo's nearly four. Surely it isn't much of a shock.”

But it was, for him. The day she'd stood up in church and married Stefano something had died inside him. He'd tried very hard to dig deep and be happy for her, but had never quite accomplished it. There was always something about her husband he'd never trusted. And then there were children, the final twist of the knife, and her life had moved away from his completely. He'd let it. And so had Alex. Together the two of them had failed her. He stared at the dark sweep of her hair. The least he could do was try to make up for it now.

Even if he wasn't quite prepared for children in his home. Making a meal for a beautiful woman usually involved wine and candles and soft music. Not toddlers on the floor. Candles would be a mistake, and normally he'd have music on but he'd left the stereo off because Matteo and Aurelia had been sleeping. When he'd offered them a temporary place to stay, he hadn't realized how many changes
he'd
have to make to his normal routine.

He hadn't been willing to make them years ago. His brow furrowed. He wasn't the kind to dwell on what might have been, but with Anna before him with her children, it was impossible to escape the idea.

“I haven't been as attentive as I should have been over the years,” he apologized. “I'm sorry for that.”

She pushed the tray of bread under the broiler and straightened. “Stefano didn't make it easy. On any of us. And you had your own life to live.”

Suddenly she smiled. “You've done so well, Jace. Two Willows is getting some good buzz in the industry. Papa nearly swallowed his tongue when he saw the article on you in March.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “And VQA designation now. That was a real bee in his bonnet.”

Jace's jaw tightened. It was no secret that part of his drive to succeed was being able to rub Roberto's face in it. Maybe he'd never beat him at his own game, but he was becoming a respected member of the wine-making community. “Good,” he replied shortly, moving to grate fresh parmesan into a bowl. “But I hope you know my commitment is to Two Willows and to the wine. The other…it's just a side benefit.”

“Papa means well.”

He couldn't reply to that without getting in an argument with her, so he stayed quiet. After a few uncomfortable seconds, she continued, softly, “Your father must be proud.”

The words caused a sting. Jace's father was laid up with arthritis, looking older than he should because of the years he'd labored too hard. Jace couldn't do anything about that. His one hesitation about building his business here rather than on Vancouver Island was that he'd have to be away from them more than he liked. His parents were determined not to move, insisting they didn't want to spend the winters amid the cold and snow of the interior. At least he knew his parents were comfortable and looked after in their home. That had been his first priority as soon as he had any profits.

For a while he'd considered going back. But setting up shop on the Island had been out of the question. Too many things had changed. Alex had moved on, and Anna had been married with children. It hurt to see them happy, his own personal brand of torture. He'd sworn when they were all children that one day he'd be like them. As secure as they had been, being brought up as Morellis. But then they'd left him behind, and he'd needed something else to fill the space inside. He'd gone from stable boy to working at a vineyard in the Okanagan, saving his money and learning absolutely everything he could. Buying Two Willows had been a good investment and a challenge. He remembered the lean times in the Willow house and didn't want his parents to have to deal with that again.

“He says he is proud,” Jace replied, thinking of his dad and the last time he'd visited. “I'm able to make their life a bit more comfortable. That's the main thing.”

“I know how important that is to you. But what about you? What do
you
want, Jace?”

Her eyes were earnest, large and fluid against the smoothness of her skin. He knew what he wanted right now. Beyond that he couldn't say.

At that moment Aurelia crawled across the floor and grabbed on to Jace's pant leg, gripping the fabric in her chubby fingers and pulling herself up. She bobbed there a moment, then looked up, proud and smiling from ear to ear.

“She likes you.”

Jace's eyes widened as he looked down on the dark curls at his knee. He didn't move. Didn't know what to do. He'd never held a baby in his life, and he couldn't even walk to the stove because she had a death-grip on his trousers. He looked at Anna and saw her smile fade.

“I'm sorry,” she murmured. “She's not quite walking and she looks for things to use to pull herself up.” She bent and picked up the baby, kissing the tiny fingers as they patted her mouth.

And Jace felt out of place in his own home for the second time.

“It doesn't matter. I don't have much experience with children. I'm afraid I won't be of any help.”

“You letting us stay here is help enough.”

He took the bread from the oven and busied himself layering sautéed mushrooms on the tops. Help? Hah. It was a hell of a position. He'd never wanted children. She'd always known it. And he wanted to help Anna, he really did. Matteo and Aurelia were gorgeous, just like her. When he'd said they could stay, he hadn't considered he'd have a role of a stand-in father. He knew nothing about caring for small children, and he didn't much want to learn either. Keeping the winery profitable was his main priority right now. Did Anna want a place to hide out or did she want him to fill in where Stefano had failed? If she did, he resented it deeply. It was presumptuous to say the least, and he didn't want to believe it of her. Perhaps she merely expected him to make her children as welcome as she was. It wasn't as if he didn't want to. He just didn't know how. And he felt foolish admitting it.