First Time in Forever (8 page)

She wouldn’t have thought it possible to want to laugh at that moment, but she did. “Did you really just say that?”

“I really did. Want to think about it?”

The crazy thing was she had thought about it. What woman wouldn’t? Ryan Cooper was insanely attractive. If all you were looking for was a night you’d never forget, he’d be the perfect choice. “I’m trying to be a responsible parent figure. I’ve already lost the bear. I think being caught having sex on the kitchen table would be a major fail.”

“Possibly. So, just to clarify—the only thing that’s stopping you is that your niece is asleep in the living room?”

“I can’t believe I’m laughing. What is there to laugh about?”

“In my experience laughing always helps. So, what’s your plan?”

“I got myself here. So far, that’s it. I need to lie low while I work out what is best for Lizzy.”

“And what about you?”

Her mouth was dry. “What about me?”

“You didn’t sign on for this. It wasn’t your choice.” Something about the way he said it made her wonder if there was more to his comment than an astute observation.

“It wasn’t a choice for either of us.”

“I presume you chose the name ‘Lizzy’ because you’re worried Juliet might draw attention.”

“It’s not a common name, and right now it’s in the press a lot, so I thought it safer not to use it.”

“Good decision. While the story is hot, the fewer people who make the connection, the better.”

“But you know.” As the implications of that struck her, she had to force herself to breathe. “What are you going to do with the information? The media would pay good money for a photo of Lana’s child.”

“Do I look like I need to sell a story to the media?” His mild tone coated layers of steel, and she squirmed because it seemed an uncharitable accusation, given he’d been nothing but helpful.

“I’m sorry. That was inexcusable. But I don’t know you. And I don’t know her, either.”

“You know she likes chocolate milk and waffles.”

She gave a wan smile. “Small steps.”

He stood up. “Life is made of small steps. Let’s start by clearing up the eggs before you slip. Breaking both your legs and knocking yourself unconscious isn’t going to make the future easier.”

“The eggs were for tomorrow’s breakfast.”

“I’ll bring you breakfast. I’ll be around at nine. Don’t leave the cottage until I get here. That’s the next twelve hours sorted. After that, we’ll plan the next twelve hours. You can get through a life like that.” With an efficiency that surprised her, he cleaned up the mess and stowed the contents of the bags while Emily went to check on Lizzy.

She found her asleep, still clutching Andrew.

“She’s exhausted. I should put her to bed.”

“I’ll carry her upstairs.” Ryan was behind her, and she shook her head.

“I can do it.”

“Are you sure?” He eyed her frame. “You don’t look strong enough.”

“Careful. You’re starting to sound like a fairy-tale prince. Just for the record, I’m capable of storming my own castle.” She scooped Lizzy up in her arms and headed upstairs. She weighed more than Emily had expected, but she would rather have sprained her back than admit it to Ryan Cooper.

She lowered Lizzy to the bed, pulled off the little girl’s shoes, tucked Andrew next to her and covered child and bear with the quilt. Then she stood, looking down at the feathery lashes brushing pale cheeks, and felt overwhelmed by the responsibility.

This wasn’t temporary. This wasn’t just for a few days or even the summer.

This was forever.

Subduing the panic, she stepped away from the bed. She couldn’t think about forever.

She returned to the kitchen to find Ryan opening cupboards. “What are you looking for?”

“Wine?” He paused. “Or maybe you don’t drink.”

She knew he was thinking of her mother. “I drink. But I stop. Unfortunately wine wasn’t one of the things I grabbed in my two-minute raid of Harbor Stores.”

“Will coffee keep you awake?”

“I don’t sleep, anyway.” She was afraid to close her eyes in case something happened.

And now she had Lizzy in the bed with her.

“So, which is the worst part of all this? The boyfriend, the job or the kid?” He reached for a coffeepot while she found two mugs and put them down on the counter.

“Definitely the child.”

“Not the boyfriend?”

“It would have ended eventually.”

“Commitment phobia?”

“In a way.”

“Plenty of men suffer from the same affliction.”

“I was talking about me. I end all my relationships.”

He gave her a curious look. “I would never have cast you in the role of serial heartbreaker.”

“I try and disguise it. I sand the bedpost to hide the notches.”

“So, what do you want out of a relationship?”

She watched as he moved around the kitchen and poured coffee into the two mugs, handing one to her. He looked competent and relaxed. “I don’t want a traditional happy ending if that’s what you’re asking. Two children and a dog have never interested me.”

“Which bit of that scenario bothers you most? The dog?”

She knew he was teasing, but this time she couldn’t smile. “All of it bothers me.”

“But you’ve ended up with a child, anyway.”

“Yes.” She walked to the window, trying to steady herself. “My favorite part of this house is the garden. We used to pick blueberries and eat them for breakfast.”

“The climate and the soil are perfect here. You should try the blueberry ice cream at Summer Scoop on the harbor. It’s delicious.” Ryan paused. “What will you do about a job? Puffin Island isn’t exactly a hub of activity for management consultancy firms.”

“I’m not thinking about that right now.” She sipped her coffee, thinking how strange it was having a man in her kitchen. “I’m still adjusting to being responsible for a child. I have some money saved up. I’ll worry about the rest of it later.”

“Does your ex-boyfriend know what happened?”

“No.”

His eyes narrowed. “Let me get this straight. You were together for three years, and he hasn’t once checked to see how you’re doing?”

“The only people who know are Brittany and Skylar. And the lawyers, obviously. Even Lana’s staff weren’t told, for obvious reasons, since at least one of them let a journalist into the house. Who does that? Who stalks a child?” She put the mug down and stared over the garden. “I’m not going to be able to keep it a secret, am I? This place is going to be crowded with tourists in the summer. Someone is going to recognize her.”

“Not necessarily. You forget that they’re not looking. This isn’t Hollywood. People come here to spend time away from the busy crush of their lives. They come here for the coast and the sea air.”

“One of the locals will say something, then. Her picture was on the front page of the newspaper. They shouldn’t be allowed to do that.”

“The community is very protective of its own.”

“But I’m not a member of the community.”

“You’re Brittany’s friend, living in Brittany’s cottage. That makes you a local.”

“All it takes is one person. One call to the press and suddenly the island is flooded with them, like ants finding sugar to feed on.”

He finished his coffee. “You’re safe here tonight. Tomorrow we’ll formulate a plan.”

She knew a plan wasn’t going to change the basic facts.

Like it or not, she was responsible for a child.

*

H
E
DROVE
HOME
along the coast road, saw a light burning in Alec’s house, considered stopping in and then decided he’d end up fielding questions he didn’t want to answer.

He avoided the bustle of the bar and went straight to his apartment. The building that now housed the Ocean Club Apartments had originally been a boatyard. It had stood empty for over three decades, battered by storms and winter weather, which was why he’d managed to buy the land for a ridiculously low price. He’d seen potential where others hadn’t.

It had been a labor of love converting it, but his reward had been a profitable rental business and a premium apartment he could have sold a hundred times over. It stretched the length of the building and had a large glass-fronted open-plan living space that was always flooded with light regardless of season or weather.

At night he liked to sprawl on one of the sofas and watch the sun melt into the sea. Tonight he made straight for the office area in the corner and flipped open his laptop.

He hit the power switch and grabbed a beer from the fridge while he waited for it to boot up. Sprawling in the chair, he thought about the woman.

Those green eyes had been the first thing he’d noticed about her when she’d opened the door to him that day, closely followed by those delicious curves that no amount of discreet clothing could conceal.

The fact she’d put her life on hold to care for her orphaned niece was laudable, but at the same time put her strictly out of bounds.

Ryan wasn’t looking for that level of complexity or intimacy in his relationships.

He’d had his fill of parenthood at an age when most kids had barely discovered the meaning of sex.

Without the plea from Brittany asking him to check on her friend, he would have stayed the hell away from her, and now that he had the facts, he was starting to wish he had.

He understood her situation better than she could possibly have imagined, which made the power of the sexual connection an inconvenience he was determined to ignore.

A woman with a child was not part of his game plan, and the fact that the child wasn’t biologically hers made no difference. White knight was a role he avoided, right along with women who made noises about weddings and settling down.

Juliet Fox.

Brittany obviously hadn’t mentioned his past. If Emily had known the truth, she definitely would have closed the door in his face.

With a soft curse he turned to his laptop and hit a couple of keys.

He started by searching the internet. He knew where to look to get the information he needed, and once he’d found everything he could without going deeper he reached for his phone and made one call.

“Larry?”

“Hey, stranger.”

He could imagine his old colleague and adversary hunched over his untidy desk with papers overflowing over every square inch of space. “Slow news day?”

“Why would you care about the news? I thought you’d retired, yacht boy.”

“I have, but the paper I saw today was enough to send a person to sleep. Lana Fox on the front page. What’s that about?”

“Why do you care? Not exactly your area of interest, and anyway, last time I heard, all you read was tide tables. Are you thinking of coming back to the real world?”

“No. I’m just curious.”

“Curious is one step from coming out of retirement.”

“I’m not retired. I changed direction.” Ryan picked up his beer, blocked out images that still kept him awake at night and stared at the information on his computer screen. “Tell me what you know about her.”

“Lana Fox? She’s dead.”

“Yeah, I got that part. I was hoping for a little more depth.”

“Depth and Lana Fox aren’t words that sit comfortably together. What do I know? Total wacko. How she managed to hold it together in front of a camera, no one knows. Rumor has it they were threatening to fire her from her last film because she lost so many days on set.”

Ryan stretched out his legs and stared out to sea. “The paper mentioned a kid.” A kid she’d left in the care of an aunt she’d never met.

“Why would you be interested in that?”

“Can’t imagine Lana as a mother, that’s all. Didn’t seem the type.”

“Well, she wasn’t Mary Poppins, if that’s what you’re asking me. I think she forgot she had a kid except for the few occasions when it suited her to show her off to the cameras. If you ask me, that child was a publicity stunt. Maybe she wanted the attention. She certainly had everyone speculating about the father. Who knows? Maybe she was going to reveal it at some point. Use it in some way. Casting couch in reverse. Woman on top.”

Ryan thought about what Emily had told him about Lizzy being scared of cameras and photographers.

Mind working, he watched the lights from a yacht winking in the darkness. “Any idea what happened to her?”

“The kid? That’s a mystery. There was some talk of family, but I always thought Lana invented herself with some pixie dust and a fairy wand. No one has been able to find out details. There’s probably a story there if anyone can be bothered to look.”

Ryan thought about the child fast asleep just a couple of miles away.

“Doesn’t sound like much of a story to me.”

“Me neither, but that’s because I prefer something more challenging than trapping first-graders. So, why all the questions? You’re tired of lounging around with lobsters and want to come back to the bright lights of the city?”

“That won’t be happening anytime soon.”

“Are you bored with being a tycoon? You thinking of starting up a newspaper? The
Puffin Post
?” Larry laughed at his own joke. “The
Crab Chronicle
.”

“You are hilarious.”

“No, you’re the one who is hilarious burying yourself in the freezing wastes of rural Maine when you could have been here at the sharp end. You don’t have to travel if you’ve lost the taste for it. You could pick your job. That’s what happens when you were the best of the best. Come back. Dust off that Pulitzer prize. Return to the dark side.”

“No.” Ryan watched as the lights of a boat blinked in the bay. “Those days are over.”

“They’ll never be over. You’re a born journalist. You can’t help yourself. You smell blood and you hunt. So, is something going on there? Is that nose of yours on the scent of something?”

Ryan thought about Juliet Fox. About how much the media would love to get their hands on that juicy piece of information.

He thought about how Emily would react if she found out what his career had been before he’d moved back to the island.

“No,” he said slowly. “I don’t have anything. I’m living in the freezing wastes of rural Maine, remember? Nothing ever happens here.”