Driftwood Cottage (10 page)

A half-hour later, their food was barely on the table when little Mick began excitedly waving a French fry in the air and shouting, “Da!”

Heather looked up and saw Connor emerging from his car in front of the restaurant. He waved at his son, as if meeting them here had been the plan all along.

Inside, he nudged Heather until she moved over to make room for him.

“You’re late,” she announced testily.

He gave her an innocent look. “Am I? I don’t recall mentioning when I’d be here.”

She opened her mouth to argue, then realized he was right. “Okay, whatever.”

He grinned at her. “Careful, Heather, or I’ll start to wonder if you missed me.”

“Not likely. I just didn’t want your son to be disappointed.”

He didn’t look as if he bought the explanation. In fact, he merely grinned impudently. “Maybe this was just my sneaky way of getting to have a meal with the two of you.”

She frowned at the suggestion. “You couldn’t possibly have known I’d bring Mick here for dinner.”

“I found you, didn’t I? That indicates a certain understanding of your behavior patterns.”

“My behavior patterns?” she repeated indignantly. “What does that mean?”

“When you’re upset, you always crave hamburgers. I’m late. You’re upset.
Voilà,
here you are at Sally’s.”

She scowled at his observation. “Do you have any idea how incredibly annoying you are?”

“You’ve mentioned it a time or two,” he said readily, beckoning to Sally and indicating he’d have a burger and fries as well. “I’d like a chocolate milk shake, too.”

Heather’s gaze narrowed. “You don’t like chocolate milk shakes.”

“No, but you do. I’m being thoughtful, since I know you’ll never order one for yourself.”

“Once again, annoying,” she declared, though she was touched by the apparent effort he was making.

“I don’t even get one brownie point?” he asked, his gaze on her, even as he moved his son’s French fries from reach. Too many were being scattered onto the floor. Connor had always been a stickler for not letting little Mick throw his food around. Once the fries were out of reach, Connor handed him one, then gave Heather a beseeching look. “Come on, one point’s not a big deal. Give me something to work with here.”

“Maybe one point,” she conceded, then regarded him
warily. “Connor, you can get a thousand and one points and it still won’t be enough.”

He shrugged off her warning. “We’ll see.”

Sally dropped off his meal. When she was gone, he took a bite of his burger, then met Heather’s gaze. “How was your week?”

“Fine. Yours?”

“Interesting.” He met her gaze. “Do you really want to hear about it?”

She hesitated. “The Wilder case, right? You had your mediation session?”

He nodded.

“I’m not sure I want to know anything about that.”

He grinned. “It’ll save you picking up the tabloids this week.”

“As if,” she muttered. “Okay, tell me what happened.”

Connor never revealed the details of his cases, and he didn’t this time, either. Instead, he told her about how he’d felt during the proceedings. Her surprise mounted as she listened.

“You’re serious?” she asked when he’d finished. “You went to bat for his wife?”

“Very carefully,” he said. “After all, he was my client. I just tried to make him think about his children and pointed out that he needed to be reasonable for their sakes.”

“And he didn’t slug you? The world didn’t come crashing down on your heads?”

Connor laughed. “No. In fact, other than Wilder slamming a couple of doors on his way out, it went pretty smoothly.”

“And therein lies a lesson,” she told him. “I am so proud of you.”

“I almost called you,” he admitted. “It went down the way it did because of you. I kept thinking about how you’d feel if you knew all the facts that I knew.”

She was more pleased than he could possibly imagine. “You tapped into your compassion, Connor. Isn’t that really the best kind of justice?”

He didn’t immediately respond, which suggested he wasn’t quite ready to go that far, but that was okay. If this case had taught him there were two sides to every story, perhaps he’d be looking for one with his next case. After all, what was the old saying—every journey begins with a single step? Connor had just taken his first step.

Connor took hope from the fact that his impromptu meal with Heather had gone well. He’d actually done exactly as he’d told her, calculated his arrival to make sure they’d meet on neutral turf. There’d been a small risk, he supposed, that she wouldn’t behave true to form, but Heather had always been a creature of habit. It was another of the things he loved about her. He usually knew exactly what to expect, which was just one reason why her taking off on him had shaken him so badly. He hadn’t anticipated it.

“Feel like a walk?” he asked when they’d finished eating.

She studied him as if seeking an ulterior motive. “You should probably take Mick home and get him into bed.”

“He’ll fall asleep while we’re walking. Remember how we’d take him out and walk around the block when he wouldn’t stop crying? It always worked like a charm.”

Heather finally nodded with undisguised reluctance. “Okay, just a short walk. I’m beat.”

At the end of the block, they crossed Shore Road, then took the sidewalk that ran along the bay. It was balmy for late April, and the pleasant night had drawn a crowd of people for an evening stroll. Connor recognized several locals, even though he’d been mostly away for years now. Surprisingly, Heather seemed to know as many people as he did, possibly more. She greeted many of them by name.

“You astonish me,” he said. “You’ve only been here a few months and you already know half the people in town.”

“It comes from having a store. You know how curious everyone in this town is when a new business opens. They all stop by to check it out, even if the thought of owning or making a quilt never crossed their minds. Add in my connection to the O’Briens and they can’t seem to stay away. I’m sure they’re all dying to ask questions about the two of us, but most have been too polite to do it.”

“Most?” he said. “Have some been hassling you?”

“Not really. Some people just can’t seem to censor their words.”

“How’ve you handled that?”

“With the truth—that you and I have a son together. There’s no point in denying that.”

“People aren’t judging you, are they?” He was prepared to leap to her defense, if need be.

“No, everyone’s been wonderful, Connor. Really.”

He studied her intently. “Then you’re happy with your decision to move here?”

She turned to him, her eyes shining. “I really am,
Connor. I already feel so at home here, and your family has been remarkable, your mom especially.”

“I’m glad,” he said.

Her gaze narrowed. “That didn’t sound particularly convincing. Did you want me to be unhappy?”

“Of course not. I guess on some level I was hoping that if this didn’t work out, you’d consider coming back to Baltimore.”

“To what?” she asked pointedly.

“Our life,” he said, unable to keep an impatient note out of his voice. “The terrific, perfect life we had not so very long ago.”

“It was terrific,” she admitted, “but hardly perfect, Connor. At least not from my point of view.”

“And living here, away from your son’s father, being completely on your own, scrimping to make ends meet, that’s better?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes,” she said flatly.

“I see.”

She regarded him with a penetrating look. “Do you really? Do you actually get that relying on myself is better than relying on someone who could bail the first time things get tough?”

“Have I ever once bailed on you when things got rocky?” he demanded, offended that she would think he might.

“No, but—”

He cut her off. “‘No’ is answer enough. I think my actions speak for themselves, Heather. I’ve proved my commitment to you time and again. A piece of paper wouldn’t make that bond one bit stronger or guarantee
I’d behave differently at some crisis that may or may not come along in the future.”

Her expression turned resigned. “Here we go. It’s the same old song and dance, Connor. You have your point of view, I have mine. We’re never going to agree, and we need to stop trying. It just ends in frustration for both of us.”

“Not a chance,” he said flatly. “We have a son. I love you. I’ll never stop trying.”

“But don’t you see? You’ll be wasting your breath. It’s time to move on.” She reached up and touched his cheek, her eyes brimming with tears. “I’m going home, Connor. You need to do the same.”

Before he could react, she cut across the street and disappeared into the alley behind the stores. He could have taken little Mick and followed, but to what end? She wasn’t going to change her mind just because he wanted her to. Pressure wouldn’t help. Sadly, he realized, neither would time. Which left him at a complete loss. Capitulation seemed to be the only option, and for him, it remained unacceptable.

O
n Saturday morning, Heather looked up at the sound of the shop’s bell and was surprised to see Abby.

“What brings you by?” she asked. “I didn’t think you had two spare minutes in your life these days, much less enough time to take up quilting.”

Abby shuddered at the suggestion. “Believe me, I don’t. Besides, I’m hopeless when it comes to any kind of handiwork. Gram tried to teach me to embroider a sampler when I was around seven. Not only did I bleed all over it, but almost every stitch turned out to be some kind of big, ugly knot. There was an equally disastrous attempt at crocheting. After that, she gave up. She had slightly better lucky with Bree, but Jess couldn’t sit still long enough. We were mostly huge disappointments to her.”

Heather laughed. “Then I go back to my original question. Since you’re not here for quilting class, which starts in a half hour, why are you here?”

“Just touching base,” Abby said, though her guilty expression suggested otherwise. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

“Connor has little Mick this weekend, right?”

“He’s in town, yes.”

“Does that mean you’re free this evening?”

Heather stilled. “Abby, what’s this really about? If you’re trying to set me up to spend time with Connor, the answer is no.”

“Not Connor,” Abby admitted, then smiled brightly. “Actually, one of my colleagues from Baltimore is in town for the weekend. I thought you might like to join us for dinner.”

If she’d suggested they spend an evening bungee jumping, Heather wouldn’t have been more shocked. “You’re trying to set me up on a blind date?”

“Sure,” Abby said as if the idea of her setting up the mother of her brother’s child on a date weren’t totally ludicrous. “Glenn’s terrific. I think you’d like him.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate the thought,” Heather responded carefully, “but what do you think Connor would say about this? Do you really want to get caught up in our drama?”

“I already ran the idea past him,” Abby said blithely, though she didn’t quite meet Heather’s gaze when she said it.

Heather couldn’t imagine how that conversation must have gone. “And?”

Abby hesitated, then grinned. “He hated it, which is why I think you have to say yes. It will drive him nuts.”

“So you’re sacrificing a colleague to make your brother jealous?” Heather asked. “Who does that?”

“Someone who cares about the two of you,” Abby said without so much as a hint of remorse. “Somebody has to kick this thing between you into gear.”

“And what about Glenn? Is he just collateral damage?”

“Oh, Glenn has an on-again, off-again girlfriend,” she said airily. “I think that’s insane, too, for the record, but
the important thing is he knows this is all for show. He’s happy to help out.”

Heather shook her head. “This is a very complicated and dangerous game you’re playing, Abby. I don’t want any part of it. If nothing else, Connor and I have always been honest with one another. I don’t want to change that now.”

Abby looked disappointed. “Not even to drive my brother crazy? Focus on the goal, Heather.”

“Any means to an end? No thank you. You O’Briens really do play hardball, don’t you? I knew Connor did, but I hadn’t realized it was a family trait. I find that a little scary.”

“But we’re a great family,” Abby said, her tone cajoling. “You know you want to be a part of it. You
deserve
to be a part of it. Your son is an O’Brien, after all.”

“Not this way,” Heather insisted. “I’ll take my chances on Connor coming to his senses eventually. I’m fully prepared to move on if he doesn’t.” Brave words, but she wanted them to be true.

Abby sighed. “I hope you’re not counting on that, because if there’s one thing aside from playing hardball that O’Briens are known for, it’s our stubbornness.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Heather replied just as people began showing up for her beginners’ quilting class.

Abby paused to hug Connie and Laila, then turned back to Heather. “The offer’s on the table if you change your mind. Dinner’s at seven.”

“I won’t change my mind,” Heather assured her. “And for your sake, I won’t mention this conversation to your brother.”

Abby merely chuckled. “Connor and I have been at odds since he found out I could hit a baseball farther than
he could. One more argument won’t destroy us. In fact, I kind of like the idea of him finding out I made good on my threat.”

Heather merely stared at her. “So, when you said you’d run the idea past him, that’s what you meant, that you’d threatened to fix me up? You deliberately tried to shake him up?”

“That’s exactly what she did,” Connie confirmed. “I was there. The look on Connor’s face was priceless.” She faced Abby. “I have to admit I didn’t really expect you to go through with it, though.”

“Somebody had to do something,” Abby said again. “I’ve been very aboveboard about my intentions. Fair warnings and all that.”

Connie chuckled. “By O’Brien standards, maybe. By most people’s, you’re being sneaky and underhanded.” She eyed Heather curiously. “Did you say yes?”

“Of course not,” Heather said indignantly.

“More’s the pity,” Abby said, then sighed. “Oh, well, this is just going to take a little longer than I’d hoped. Have fun quilting, ladies.”

She breezed out the door the same way she’d breezed in. Heather stared after her.

“What did she mean, it might take longer than she’d planned?” Heather asked warily, looking from Laila to Connie and back again. “What might take longer?”

“Getting you and Connor together, of course,” Laila said, grinning. “Abby has a bit of a determined streak, in case you haven’t noticed. It took her, what, fifteen years or more, but she got Mick and Megan back together. Her track record for persistence is solid.”

“Sweet heaven,” Heather muttered. “Do I need to warn Connor?”

“Trust me, he knows,” Connie said. “When Megan left, it was Abby as much as Nell who held that family together. Not only is she strong, she’s fiercely protective. Right now, you and her baby brother seem to be her pet project.”

Heather whirled on Laila. “You need to go over to their house right this minute and tell your brother to do something to distract his wife.”

“Such as?” Laila asked, clearly amused by Heather’s panic.

“Tell him they need to make a baby,” Heather said, seizing on the first thing that came to mind. “I don’t care. Just keep her occupied.”

“While I think Trace would get behind that idea,” Laila said, “I’m not sure even he can save you and Connor now that Abby’s on a mission.”

“I agree,” Connie said, grinning. “You’re doomed, sweetie. You might as well hang on and enjoy the ride.”

Laila’s grin was even broader. “In fact, you might want to buy some Dramamine if you’re inclined toward motion sickness.”

Even though little Mick had cooperated by going down for his morning nap right on time, Connor couldn’t seem to get any work done. He had problems concentrating. He kept thinking about how his evening with Heather had gone so far off course, just when he thought they’d been making progress.

He was sitting on the porch with a stack of case files,
the baby monitor beside him, when Trace came up the steps from the beach and crossed the lawn.

“You busy?” his brother-in-law asked as he sat down.

“I should be, but I’m not. What are you up to?”

Trace glanced around as if he feared spies might be hiding in the bushes. “I came to warn you that Abby’s up to something.”

Connor’s gaze narrowed. “Such as?”

“She brought some guy from her office home for the weekend.”

“That’s a little in-your-face, even for Abby,” Connor commented. “Have you punched the guy out yet?”

Trace chuckled. “I don’t think he’s here to get me all riled up and jealous.”

Understanding immediately dawned. “My sister is actually making good on her threat to fix Heather up with someone else,” Connor concluded.

“That would be my guess,” Trace said. “Just so you know, I told her days ago that it was a bad idea. Obviously she didn’t listen. You know how your sister is once she gets an idea in her head. She can plot and scheme with the best of the family.”

Connor wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to the most obvious question, but he asked it anyway. “Did Heather take the bait?”

“Abby’s over at her shop now.” He met Connor’s gaze. “You ever known your sister not to get what she wants?”

“Well, what the devil am I supposed to do about it if Heather wants to go out with some slick stockbroker?” Connor asked in exasperation. “I can’t very well order her not to, can I?”

“Not under current circumstances,” Trace agreed. “Quite a quandary for you, isn’t it?”

“Instead of gloating, you could at least pretend to be on my side,” Connor grumbled.

“I am, which is why I’m here warning you about what’s going on. Beyond that, what can I tell you? I have to live with my wife.” He stood up. “See you, pal. Good luck.”

Connor stewed about Trace’s news for an hour. The second he heard his son stirring, he ran upstairs, changed him and loaded him into the car.

“You and I have to go save Mommy from the evil big sister,” he muttered as he drove into town.

Hopefully it wasn’t too late.

“Gee, what a surprise!” Laila said mockingly when the bell rang over the door at Cottage Quilts just as the quilting class was wrapping up. “Here’s Connor.”

Heather’s head snapped up. Indeed, there he was. There was no sign of their son.

“Where’s little Mick?” she asked, deciding to focus on first things first, especially the least controversial things.

“I left him with Bree for five minutes so you and I could talk.”

Before Heather could respond, Connie said, “Judging from the sour expression on his face, he must have heard about Abby’s big plans.”

“You two are not helping,” Connor said. “Isn’t class over with? Go home. I didn’t ditch my son so I could contend with two opinionated observers.”

“He seems a little agitated,” Laila commented, not even trying to control her smirk.

“He probably rushed right over to protect his turf,” Connie added knowingly.

Though the two of them seemed to be having a very good time at Connor’s expense, Heather decided it was time to call a halt. “Stop tormenting him, you two.”

“Connor can defend himself,” Laila said. “We’re just trying to be supportive of you.”

Heather laughed. “No, you are deliberately taunting him.”

“Hello!” Connor muttered irritably. “I’m still here, though I’m beginning to wonder why.”

“Would you like me to guide you through the reasons?” Connie asked. “You want to know if Heather accepted a blind date with Abby’s friend.”

He scowled at her, then turned to Heather. “Actually, yes, I would like an answer to that.”

“No,” Heather said.

“No what? No, you’re not going to answer me, or no, you didn’t accept the date?”

“I told Abby I wasn’t interested,” Heather said, “though it really wouldn’t be any of your business if I had said yes.”

He frowned. “You don’t see anything wrong with accepting a blind date set up by my sister?”

“Philosophically, no.”

“Then why didn’t you say yes?”

“Because Abby obviously has an agenda. It’s going to put the two of you at odds. I saw no point in encouraging that. She’s your sister.”

“Something she’s apparently forgotten,” he grumbled.

“She thinks she’s helping,” Laila said.

“I don’t need her help,” Connor said.

Connie and Laila exchanged a meaningful look laced with amusement.

Hoping to put an end to the entire discussion, Heather turned to Connor. “Did you stop by for something specific or are they right? Are you here just to protect your turf, which, frankly, isn’t yours to protect?”

“I thought maybe you’d like to have dinner at the house with me and little Mick,” he said, turning his back on Laila and Connie, who hadn’t budged.

“No, thanks,” she said.

“But—”

“Not a good idea, Connor.”

He looked thoroughly thrown by her flat refusal. “Okay, then,” he said, backing toward the door. “We’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll bring little Mick back around four before I drive back to Baltimore.”

She nodded. “That would be great.”

On his way out the door, he paused to scowl at Laila and Connie. “You were a big help. Thanks,” he said sarcastically.

“Not in your booster club at the moment,” Laila told him.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.

After he’d gone, Laila and Connie turned to Heather. “Maybe you should have gone to dinner with him,” Connie suggested. “He is trying.”

“Trying to do what?” Heather asked. “Connor and I were great at dating. We were good living together. But sadly, there is no evidence to suggest we’ll ever get to the next level. If he’s trying at all, it’s to get back what he lost, not to move forward.”

“But he is a good guy, and he obviously loves you,”
Connie said. “Do you know how many of us would kill to find that?”

“And you’d be content even if the relationship was heading nowhere?” Heather asked skeptically.

“Of course not,” Laila said, frowning at Connie, then assuring Heather, “You’re right to want it all. We all do.”

“I’d just settle for a date on a Saturday night,” Connie said wistfully. “It has been way too long.”

“But you still wouldn’t settle for a man who couldn’t commit,” Laila told her. “You know you wouldn’t.”

Eventually Connie nodded. “You’re right. Stick to your guns, Heather, even if it means drinks with Laila and me is the only excitement in your life on a Saturday night.”

“Great idea,” Laila said at once, seizing on the innocent comment. “How about it, Heather? We know you’re free. Let’s go to Brady’s for a couple of hours tonight and have some fun.”

Heather hesitated, then thought of how long it had been since she’d gone out with friends for a drink. “Count me in.”

“Seven o’clock?” Connie suggested.

“Perfect,” Heather said. “I’ll meet you there.”

As she agreed, she knew that she’d made the right choice. Being with Connor might have been more exciting. Meeting Abby’s friend Glenn might have stirred up some interesting complications. But going out with Laila and Connie would be totally uncomplicated fun, something she’d had far too little of in recent months.