Harlequin Superromance November 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: Christmas at the Cove\Navy Christmas\Until She Met Daniel (10 page)

Scott clenched his jaw and moved forward in the line. He wanted a life partner who could handle his family, his baggage and his messed-up resentment toward his dad—and he couldn’t help thinking no woman had come closer to being the right one than Carrie.

Yet, whether he liked it or not, he couldn’t ignore her husband had been a stand-up guy...and Carrie still wore his ring.

Scott shifted from one foot to the other. The long queue ahead of him hadn’t moved. Marian whirled back and forth, harassment showing in her red face. Scott left the line. Marian would send him away anyway if she spotted him waiting—either that, or get him kneading dough. She held no qualms with making her regulars wait if they were under the age of thirty-five. To quote her, “Kids your age can wait without risk of your knees giving out or your incontinence pants leaking.”

Forcing a smile, Scott slid into the seat opposite Carrie. She’d removed her coat and faced the window, her long, thick hair a blanket of wheat down her back. Thinly disguised apprehension showed in her pallor and stiff shoulders. His smile faltered. “What’s wrong?”

Her smile was too immediate and too wide to be sincere. “Nothing.” She glanced at the empty table. “No pancakes?”

Hating that he didn’t have the words or actions to comfort her when his mind and heart were in such a mess, Scott nodded toward the queue. “I might as well rest my legs considering the time it’s going to take to get to the front of that lot.”

She glanced at the counter and flashed him a smile before gazing through the window once more. The atmosphere intensified with unspoken words. It was clear she’d seen enough at the toyshop to understand he and Amanda had history. He swallowed against the bitter taste that coated his throat.

What could he really tell her? How time and again he avoided relationships? How the weight of responsibility pressed down on him more often than it lifted him? She would hate him before he’d had the chance to figure out what to do about her, Belle or anything else.

He had to fix this atmosphere threatening to obliterate the gentle whispers of trust beginning to develop between them. If the child was his and he ran at the first hurdle...

He took a deep breath. “Amanda’s my ex.”

She turned, her eyebrow lifted and a soft glint of teasing sparkled in her eyes. “Ah.”

Shifting in his seat, Scott glanced toward the window. “It ended badly and—”

“Was the decision yours or hers?”

“What?”

“To end it.”

“Mine.”

“Right.”

He frowned. “What?”

“So now you’re going to say she’s the mad-bitch psycho ex and not to listen to anything she has to say, right?”

“No.”

She raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

“Fine, maybe I was. The point is, don’t judge me on it not working out with her, okay? She has a son. A little boy. I don’t want you thinking it was because of the kid that I walked. It wasn’t.”

Her smile stayed in place but Scott saw the subtle shift in her gaze—teasing to careful consideration.

She glanced down at her hands folded on the table. “So do you want to tell me your side of what happened? Or shall I wait to hear hers?”

Defensiveness slithered over his shoulders and his gut tightened. “I’m on my way to where I want to be in this world, Carrie. I have plans...”

“Plans that don’t include a woman who could mess that up...especially a woman with a child.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying?” Her cheeks darkened and her gaze flashed with impatience. “I gave you my truth, Scott, now give me yours.”

“She wanted more. All the time. She’s selfish, demanding and vain. I don’t have time for a woman like that. It wasn’t all about the boy.” He reached over and covered her hands with his, unsure who he was trying to convince more, Carrie or himself. “None of this is easy for me. You’ve told me I have a daughter and it’s like I’ve taken a bullet to the chest. A relationship, kids...I just don’t know if I’m ready for it yet.”

“We don’t always get to choose when these things happen.”

He tightened his grip on her hands. “I know. The moment I laid eyes on you, I would’ve done anything to get to know you better, to have you stay with me and not leave, but I know how things can change. I know how easily people can leave and never come back—”

“Which will always be entirely out of your control. It’s the same for everyone, Scott. That’s life. What is it you’re really trying to tell me? Just say it. I’m big girl.”

He ran his gaze over her face and took a deep breath. “My father ran out on us a long time ago, said he couldn’t handle it anymore.”

“It?”

Scott clenched his jaw. “Marriage. Kids. Responsibility.” He glanced around the bakery. “So it all came down to me, or rather I made it come down to me.”

She frowned. “And I should be worried about that?”

“No...you should be worried that time and again I fear how much of him is in me.”

“Oh.” She pulled her hands from his and crossed her arms. “Well, I appreciate your honesty.”

You’ve lost her. You’ve lost her big time.
“But I haven’t gone anywhere yet. Maybe I never will.”

“Maybe you won’t, but that’s not enough for me to introduce you to our daughter, especially when you could one day leave and never see her again. I’d rather she never met you at all.”

“Carrie—”

“I don’t know what else you expect me to say.”

He swiped his hand over his face. “I just need to have everything in place. Know that I have everything set up to be a good man, husband and father before I make that sort of commitment to anyone.” He forced his eyes to hers. “And I don’t have everything in place. Not yet.”

Silence.

She pursed her lips and the noise and chatter all around them grew in volume as he counted the seconds. He’d given her his truth. He’d said the words out loud and now the ball was in her court. He might just have made the biggest mistake of his life, but he refused to lie to her, or make out he was someone different. He held his breath and waited for Carrie to jump to her feet and bolt from the bakery. If she did, he wouldn’t let her get very far. If he had a kid, she had no right to tell him that and then disappear again. No right at all.

She smiled softly and her shoulders drooped. “Thank you. For telling me the truth. You were right about what you said at the beach, too.”

He waited. Which part? He’d said way too much.

She blew out a breath. “I should’ve thought long and hard about how I’d feel if someone turned up and told me I was parent to a two-year-old I knew nothing about. I’m not asking you for anything. That’s not what this is about. I just wanted you to know about Belle, that’s all.”

Relief she was still sitting and hadn’t run relaxed his shoulders. He smiled. “Then tell me about her.”

She grinned. “She’s beautiful...”

He kept his eyes on her face, but her words faded into the background as the magnitude of trouble he was in crashed into his heart. Carrie’s eyes were alight as she chatted about Belle, her voice full of pride and the odd bout of vicious possession he recognized in his mother. His smile was locked in place, his heart beating like a freight train. They had a child together. A child Carrie was so certain was his, she’d willingly do a DNA test.

Hope and pride bloomed within him, only to be whipped away by insecurity and the overwhelming need to run as she continued to give him a seemingly second-by-second account of his daughter’s life. Scott inhaled a deep breath. The one thing he couldn’t change, or fight, was the fact Carrie affected him. He couldn’t explain what it was, or even why this seemingly normal woman seemed so extraordinary to him. Yet, the same hot, molten need to have her in his bed...and in his life still ran through him as it had before.

“So that’s it. That’s your daughter in a nutshell.”

Her laugh cut through his fearful contemplation. Her eyes searched his, her cheeks flushed and her lips pulled wide by the breadth of her smile.

Taking a deep breath, he reached for her hand. “Will you stay awhile longer?” The words tripped from his tongue like water. So smoothly, he wasn’t certain he’d actually said them.

Her hand stiffened and she frowned. “What?”

“Stay. Just until Christmas Eve. I want to get to know you before Belle comes into the equation. Everything is moving so fast and I want to spend some time. Just you and me.”

She shook her head, disappointment showing in her gaze. “Belle is what this is all about, Scott. Don’t you get that?”

“I do, but is a few days too much to ask? I need time to get my head around this and I don’t want you to leave. Not yet.” Fire churned and scorched inside him. His feelings for her grew stronger every time she was near.

He’d be a fool to brush them aside a second time.

“Scott...I have to be with Belle on Christmas. Staying here isn’t an option.” She slid her hand from his and closed her eyes. When she raised her hands to her face, her fingers trembled. “You have no right to ask me to stay.”

His gaze hovered on her wedding band and he closed his eyes. “Maybe I haven’t, but please, stay until Christmas Eve. After that, you leave in time to spend Christmas with Belle. I need this, Carrie. To get my head straight.”

She dropped her hands. “You just told me you’re not sure you’re ready. You can’t expect me to stay here, at Christmas, with the risk that you might turn around and decide you’re not cut out to be a daddy after all.”

“But—”

“No. I won’t do it.”

“I won’t let you walk away a second time.”

Her angry gaze darted over his face. “Let me? That isn’t your choice to make. You call me after Christmas, in the New Year, whenever, but there is no way I’m staying while you figure out what you want.”

She pushed to her feet and Scott gripped her wrist, his heart hammering and his head whirling with the myriad of unwanted emotions rushing through him. He clenched his jaw. “Don’t go.”

“Let go of me.” She snatched her arm from his fingers. “I don’t want to regret coming here, Scott. I have a home and a little girl waiting for me. I’m sorry.” Her pretty porcelain skin shone pink at her cheeks and neck.

Frustration mixed with desperation. Dented pride mixed with his stupid lust for this woman with the thick, blond hair and eyes like melted chocolate. “God damn it, Carrie, so I’ve got standards of who I want to be as a dad. Standards that are pretty damn high. Is that so wrong? Or would you prefer some two-bit daddy for Belle? It might take me a while to get there, but I know one thing for certain, if there’s anyone I’ll reach those standards for, it’s you.”

She opened her mouth as if to say something and then snapped it closed. She shook her head and slid from the booth. Turning away from him, she jabbed her arms into her coat and yanked the belt at her waist so tightly Scott flinched. She hitched her bag onto her shoulder and shot her gaze to his. “Goodbye, Scott.”

Turning, she stormed away from him, sashaying through the tables and tens of people filling the bakery. It was a miracle she didn’t barrel anyone over as though they were little more than pins at a bowling alley. Scott closed his eyes, dropped his head to the table and welcomed the pain.

CHAPTER EIGHT

B
URNING
WITH
ANGER
and frustration, Carrie strode along High Street. She passed the shops with their merry, twinkling facades and headed for God only knew where. Scott’s words reverberated in her mind, making it more and more difficult to breathe against the ice-cold wind that whipped around her.

What was she supposed to do with the confession that seemed to spew so easily from his mouth? He wasn’t sure if he was cut out to be a dad yet, but he wanted to try? Because of her? The guy was insane. Did he really think she’d let him anywhere near Belle with such a flimsy resume?

Why had she thought coming to Templeton to find him was the right thing to do for Belle? What more did she need than a strong, steady mother who had all the love in the world to give her? Just because Carrie couldn’t imagine a life without her father didn’t mean Belle needed one who might or might not be there in two years, twelve years or twenty-four.

Gerard’s sensibility and strength poured into Carrie’s heart. His committed writing schedule and time-management reminded her of the things they had in common. The virtues that provided her daughter a steady life to aspire to. Virtues Carrie clung to in a steadfast attempt to avoid the yearning for excitement that resided just beneath the surface of her skin; the craving Scott ignited so easily—and so clearly lived by.

Carrie narrowed her eyes. She’d learned her lesson, and throwing caution to the wind once had allowed a storm to blow in and turn her life upside down. She refused to let Scott be a tornado in her life a second time.

Her parents had stood by her, never demanding answers about her week with Scott. They’d cared for and loved Belle so Carrie could continue to work until she could afford a place of her own and child care.
She
didn’t need Scott. Didn’t he understand that? It was all about Belle.

Scott didn’t understand anything. No one did until they had a child and their entire world was tipped on its axis, ruled by deep, unconditional love. Scott didn’t seem to have any idea what his life would be like next week, month or year. She did. She would be caring about her daughter’s heart and welfare. Period.

Well, there was no way she’d let his bright blue eyes and occasional sexy smile smash her reality to smithereens and blind her with an idyllic, movie-like scenario that was illusory and dangerous. Dangerous to Belle and her.

She might have thought of Scott before and during her marriage; was reminded of him every time she looked at her daughter; but that didn’t mean she’d let him close enough to waver her decision-making.

Carrie hurried blindly forward with no clue where she was going or what to do next. She walked along the promenade, farther and farther from the center of Templeton, oblivious to the distance she covered or her surroundings until the sight of a holiday park ahead snagged her attention. Carrie stared through the open gates, her eyes widening with surprise.

The Good Time Holiday Park was lit up in all its glory. Fairy lights blinked beneath the eaves and around the door of the reception building, while an eighties’ Christmas hit rang out from what Carrie assumed was some kind of clubhouse. Beyond that, the roofs of rows and rows of mobile homes stretched into the distance.

She glanced behind her. How far had she walked? She had no idea this place existed. Then again, she and her friends hadn’t ventured farther than the town center three years ago. Bars, the beach and good restaurants had been the order of the weekend.

She wouldn’t have thought holiday parks would be open right before Christmas, but this one was alive with laughter from the people bustling to and fro around the reception area and clubhouse.

The shouts of good cheer and shrieks of enjoyment twisted her stomach with regret. Family holidays had been something she and Gerard talked about often, but one never came to pass before he was killed. Her conscience might have forced her to come to Templeton, but Carrie couldn’t deny part of her was curious to find out if Scott was a different man than she’d assumed he was years before. Hadn’t she secretly hoped he wasn’t a player, but a man capable of family parties, holidays and school plays? That kind of life, that kind of family, was what Carrie wanted for Belle more than anything in the world.

Isn’t it what I want for myself too?

She approached a bench opposite the Good Time Holiday Park and sat, staring up at its brightly painted sign. Until she’d looked into Scott’s eyes again, the fear of facing a future alone with her daughter had been a phenomenon Carrie hadn’t considered—she’d thought she and Belle would be just fine on their own.

Now her mind and heart reeled with an overwhelming sense of loss. However, as much as she hated the inexplicable but very real sadness that Scott wouldn’t be a part of his daughter’s life, she also recognized that she hadn’t gotten to her position at work or raised her daughter or succeeded in other areas of her life with Scott by her side. It was time to go home.

She closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the bench. So why did her heart feel so damn heavy? Why did her eyes burn with unshed tears?

Because despite his failings, Scott evoked strong feelings of destiny in her.

Her body traitorously yearned for him even if she’d purposely put her heart under lock and key. The bursts of lust that heated her blood were exciting, no matter how adulterous they felt to Gerard’s memory.

Wasn’t that another reason for her blank refusal to stay here a few days longer? Because she didn’t really have the strength to resist her physical want of him for another few days while they talked and spent time together? If he made another move to kiss her...

“Goddamn it. Why is this so hard?”

Carrie inhaled a long breath and when she exhaled, the air turned white in front of her mouth. She shivered. She’d chosen Christmas as the right time to come to Templeton so she could start the New Year afresh. She was a fool. Whether it was Christmas, Easter, the height of summer or the beginning of fall, new beginnings began regardless of the season.

Christmas just made failure cut that much deeper.

“Are you all right?”

Carrie snapped her eyes open. The woman standing to the side of her was wrapped in a chestnut wool coat the exact shade of her thick, long and very enviable hair. Carrie forced a smile and sat up straight. “I’m fine. I’m just—”

“Freezing yourself to the bench? It’s beginning to snow.” The woman held out her hand and soft white flakes drifted to her leather-gloved palm. “I love winter.” She glanced toward the park gates and grimaced. “Not that I should, considering I run a holiday park.”

“It’s yours?”

The woman laughed, the sound warm. “Not mine, exactly. I’m Angela Taylor, the manager. I came outside for a breather. The Christmas visitors are equally as boisterous as a group of twenty-somethings on spring break.”

Carrie smiled. “Would it make you want to slap me if I said I was finding their boisterous good time entirely comforting?”

Her eyes turned somber before they softened and she smiled again. “Are you okay? Do you want to come in for a while? We’ve got a mean coffee machine in the reception.”

The gentle concern in her eyes made Carrie slump her shoulders. “I’m hiding.”

“I thought as much.” Angela’s smile dissolved. “Is there anything I can do?”

Carrie’s cheeks warmed. “Is it really that obvious?”

“Only to someone who recognizes the anxiety on your face...the hunch of your shoulders.” She looked around. “Are you out here alone?”

“Yes, but that’s exactly how I want it for a while.”

“I see.” Her gaze zeroed in on Carrie’s and intensified as she lowered onto the bench. “Feel free to tell me to mind my own business but if you need some help—”

“I’m fine.”

Angela lifted her eyebrow. “And someone who’s fine chooses to sit alone outside a holiday park a few days before Christmas until they’re trembling with cold?”

Carrie laughed. “Maybe.”

She tilted her head toward the park. “Come inside. We can have hot chocolate. I promise not to ask any questions.”

Despite Angela’s kindness, Carrie’s need to maintain distance between her and the residents of Templeton rose once more. She forced her necessary boundaries into their somewhat wobbly position. “If it’s all the same to you—”

“I’m not nosing into your business, I’m just offering a friendly shoulder...or not. The hot chocolate is still up for grabs either way.”

Carrie studied Angela from beneath lowered lashes. Her worldly-wise gaze screamed of experience. Instinctively, Carrie sensed Angela knew she struggled with the choice of whether to fight or flee. She drew in a long breath and exhaled. “Can I ask you something?”

Angela nodded. “Sure.”

“Have you ever been faced with a situation where you have absolutely no idea of the right thing to do?”

Angela’s breath puffed out in front of her as she blew out a sigh. “Now there’s a question.” She glanced toward the gates of the holiday park, her expression growing guarded. She sighed. “We all have moments like that. You have to listen to that little voice deep inside. For better or worse, it’s rarely wrong.”

Carrie nodded, her gaze resting on the holidaymakers whooping and laughing within the gates of the park. “Someone has asked me to do something that I feel as though I owe him to do, but...”

“Is this a friend? Boyfriend?”

Carrie met her eyes and grimaced. “Neither. More of a long-ago lover and father of my child.”

Angela sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. “Ah.”

“It’s such a mess and I came here thinking I had everything worked out. I couldn’t have been more wrong and now I’m worried about making things worse.”

“Do you like him?”

Carrie smiled wryly. “Yes. I probably like him too much.”

“Can you trust him?”

Carrie frowned and turned to face her. “I don’t even know him. Not really.”

“Hmm...and what is your gut telling you?”

Carrie considered the question. How could Scott not be trustworthy after his clear commitment to his family? He might have gone from one woman to the other, but that was all she had to criticize. He’d been honest and caring of her. He’d listened and given her his truth. “I can trust him.”

“Then unless the guy is asking you to do something immoral or illegal, I think you should consider doing whatever he’s asking.” Angela smiled. “Look, a lot of things have happened to me and the most important thing I’ve learned is sometimes we have to take a leap of faith and not cut people off because we’re worried what may or may not happen.”

If there’s anyone I will reach those standards for, it’s you.
Scott’s words resounded in Carrie’s head.

“I have to get this right for my daughter. If it was just about me...”

“You’d do whatever he’s asking in a heartbeat?” Angela raised an eyebrow, her eyes teasing.

Carrie laughed as the truth of Angela’s insinuation hit home. “Maybe. It’s complicated. My feelings for him seem to be based on little more than the overwhelming desire to jump the man.”

Angela laughed. “Is that so bad?”

Carrie sighed. “It is when I’ve only just told him he has a daughter despite her being three this coming April.”

Angela winced. “Oh.”

“Exactly.”

“Come on. It’s freezing out here.” Angela stood and held out her hand. “This calls for more hot chocolate than our machine can hold, but I’ve got access to a bar full of wine if need be. Let’s go inside and, between us, we’ll figure out what your next move should be.”

Carrie stood and smiled. “Okay. Why not? I was thinking of leaving tonight and never coming back. Never speaking to him again, but now...”

“Now what?”

“Now I’m wondering whether to give him a chance. He really hasn’t done anything wrong. Neither of us has.”

Angela grinned. “Good. Come on. Have a drink with me and then go get your man.”

Carrie’s stomach knotted as Angela led her into the park and through the bustling area in front of the reception building.
Go get my man? Scott Walker is so not my man right now
.

People were out in droves delighting in the first snowfall of winter. A lump caught in Carrie’s throat as she absorbed the awed expressions of mothers with their children and grandparents arm in arm. Her heart kicked painfully. God, she wanted that. She wanted a family. She had to try again with Scott. As much for herself as for Belle. Gerard wanted them to be happy and happiness came through trust, commitment and tenacity.

What would it say about her and everything Gerard had taught her if she walked away through fear of the future? Life was too short to waste it.

The shriek of a little girl drew Carrie to an abrupt halt, her heart stuttering. A young father ahead of them tossed his toddler daughter onto his shoulders and she giggled with delight. She stuck out her tongue to catch the snowflakes while her father marched up and down in the mode of a soldier on duty outside Buckingham Palace.

“That. Right there. That’s what matters.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Angela cleared her throat. “Nothing is more important than a girl—or woman—feeling secure. Nothing in the world.”

The hairs at Carrie’s nape rose. Scott hadn’t said no to Belle. He hadn’t said no to trying. He’d asked her to stay; to spend some time. He hadn’t demanded a DNA test, but he did deserve one. If there was the smallest chance of Scott being in Belle’s life, it was Carrie’s duty as her mother to ensure it happened.

Unless Scott gave her just cause to think he might harm Belle emotionally, physically or mentally, she wouldn’t walk away.

She faced Angela. “Do you mind if we get that drink another time?”

She smiled. “Somewhere you need to be?”

“I need to talk to him. I walked away too easily.”

Angela nodded. “Then go.”

Carrie squeezed her arm. “Thanks for listening. Maybe we can catch up again before I leave?”

“Sure. I’d like that.” Angela winked. “I want to know how things turn out. Good luck.”

* * *

S
COTT
STARED
THROUGH
the bakery window, his ass cheeks numb from the length of time he’d been sitting immobile. Why had he told Carrie he’d try to change for her? What did he expect to happen? A woman as determined and passionate as Carrie had no facet in her person that showed she’d wait for him to make up his mind whether it was possible for him to be a father. Why should he expect her to?