Her Kind of Trouble (Harlequin Superromance) (26 page)

Daisy was restless, so Seth put her in the stroller and rocked it back and forth, hoping the motion would settle her.

“As you’ve probably gathered, our Lola was a bit of a character. Never let
no
get in the way of a good time was her philosophy, and she prosecuted that belief to the hilt. As you can imagine, she led us on a merry dance through her teen years, and I don’t mind admitting that there were times when we both despaired of her ever being fit for decent company.”

A ripple of laughter ran through the room, and Dennis took advantage of the pause to dab at his eyes with a folded handkerchief.

“She turned out pretty bloody amazing in the end, though, I’m sure you’d agree....”

Dennis talked about what a good friend and daughter Lola had been, and how excited she’d been about coming to Australia. They’d worried for her being so far away from home, but they’d looked forward to her frequent emails and phone calls. When he talked about the accident, his voice became thick with emotion and it was clear he was struggling to continue. He paused, his face quivering as he attempted to regain his composure. After a beat of concerted effort, he shook his head, signaling he couldn’t continue. The celebrant stepped forward, only to hesitate when Melissa reached out to tilt microphone her way.

“I wasn’t going to speak. Didn’t think I’d be up to it. But there’s something I want to say. Something I want you all to hear.” Her voice was thready with emotion, her face creased with grief. “My relationship with Lola wasn’t perfect, and there are things I would change if I could go back. But I can’t. I can’t tell Lola how proud I am of her. I’m not sure I ever did that enough. I can’t tell her how in awe of her I was. And I can’t tell her how much I love her. I’ll never be able to do that again. All I can do is stand here in front of you and tell you that Dolores Alice Brown was an amazing woman, and I will be proud that she was mine until my dying day. It’s not enough, but it will have to do. Thank you.”

Melissa’s regret was a palpable thing, a ghost at the feast. Seth swallowed a lump of emotion and focused on his hands where they gripped his knees. How terrible to realize too late what was important, to never be able to right the wrongs of the past.

The celebrant took control of the mike, wrapping up the ceremony by inviting everyone for refreshments in the foyer. Music came on, this time Coldplay’s “Paradise.”

Seth took a moment to wipe the tears from his cheeks, feeling hugely exposed even though he knew if there was anywhere a man was allowed to cry, it was at a funeral. He stood as Melissa and Dennis returned to their pew looking shrunken and weary, as though the simple act of getting through the ceremony had diminished them. He watched them sink onto the pew and wished he had something to say that would offer them even a scrap of comfort.

Typically, nothing came to him, and he glanced to where the rest of the mourners were making their way through the double doors into the foyer for the promised tea, coffee and cakes.

“Why don’t you stay in here for a while?” he suggested quietly. “Take a moment to catch your breath, and I’ll bring you both a cup of tea.”

Melissa nodded, her gaze on the stroller, and Seth knew what she was asking with her saying a word.

“Daisy can stay here with you,” he said.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Seth rested a hand on her shoulder, then turned away, woefully conscious of his own inadequacy. He was too scared of saying the wrong thing, of inadvertently increasing their pain. It was far safer to retreat to the foyer and do something concrete like stand in line for tea than wade into such deep emotional waters.

His mother came over to talk to him as he waited for the tea, and he agreed with her that it had been a lovely ceremony and that, yes, it was incredibly difficult for the Browns. He could see Vivian’s bright head out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t let himself so much as glance her way. He felt...flayed after the Browns’ heartbreaking eulogy. He wasn’t sure he would be able to mask his own want if he let himself look at her.

He made two cups of tea, realizing belatedly that he had no idea how the Browns took it. He settled for grabbing a few sugar sachets and giving them both a dash of milk before returning to the chapel, where he found Dennis holding Daisy. He and Melissa appeared marginally better.

“I wasn’t sure how you liked it, so I hope it’s okay,” Seth said as he handed a cup to Melissa and set the other on the pew beside Dennis.

“This will be fine,” Melissa said with a small smile. “I hope everyone doesn’t think we’re rude, staying in here for a moment.” She glanced over her shoulder uncertainly.

“They get it. My mother asked me to pass on that she thought it was a lovely ceremony.
Beautiful
was the word she used.”

“Oh, good. We wanted to do Lola justice,” Melissa said.

They were silent for a beat, and the conversational hum in the foyer filtered into the room.

“I should probably circulate a little,” Seth said. There were people he needed to thank for coming, people who had come to support him.

“We’ll be out in a minute,” Dennis said.

Seth slipped into the foyer and scanned the room for people he should speak to. Zara, and Syrie and Jack from the bar, had come. Jodie and Vivian’s parents had put in an appearance, too.

Somehow, he found himself making his way to where Vivian stood with his brother and sister-in-law. He was unable to keep his distance a moment longer.

“Thanks for coming, guys,” he said.

Vivian’s mascara was smudged, presumably because she’d been crying. She looked sad and beautiful, warm and real. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to stop himself from pulling her into his arms.

She wasn’t his to comfort. She never had been.

“How are the Browns holding up?” she asked.

“They’re okay. Exhausted, I think,” Seth said.

“That was a pretty special speech they gave. Straight from the heart,” Jason said.

“Yeah, it was.”

He could smell Vivian’s perfume. The sunlight streaming through the windows made her hair glow. The ache of his need for her, his want, was a physical pain in his chest and belly.

It’s over. You had your chance, and she called time. Suck it up and move on.

“I should keep doing the rounds, but I wanted to say thanks for your support. Not just today, but since this whole thing blew up.” He sounded stiff, too formal, but there wasn’t much he could do about that.

“You’re family, Seth. We’ve got your back,” Jodie said simply.

He ducked his head in acknowledgement. She leaned forward to kiss his cheek, then his brother slung an arm around him and gave him a half hug, his fist thunking Seth’s back with a dull thud. Seth told himself it would be weird if he didn’t kiss Vivian, too, so he turned to her. He looked into her eyes for the briefest second before focusing on the spot near the angle of her jawbone that he planned to kiss. Her skin felt warm and soft beneath his lips, and he breathed in deeply before stepping back.

He tried to think of something else to say, something innocuous, but he was too busy fighting the inexplicable push of tears. It hit him then that Vivian would be the single great regret of his life. The one he never got right. The one who might have made everything work.

He forced himself to turn away, to take one step, then another, then another. Soon he was across the room, someone handed him a piece of cake and he was agreeing that the music had been very interesting and surprisingly moving. He forced himself to count to twenty before he looked at her, for dignity’s sake. For appearances, because he didn’t want to embarrass Vivian or expose himself more than he already had.

God forbid his pride might take a pummeling, after all. Not when it was all he had left.

What he saw made everything in him go very still.

Jodie had flagged down a server with a tray of tea and coffee. She passed a cup to Vivian, who reached out to accept it, but her hands were trembling so much that she sent tea sloshing over the brim. For the briefest of moments, her composure cracked, her brow furrowing, her chin wobbling. Jodie acted quickly, relieving her of the cup, leaning close to say something. Vivian nodded, then Jodie glanced across the room.

Straight at him.

She looked away again almost immediately, but there had been so much emotion in that single look that Seth felt seared.

Fierce protectiveness. Frustration. Accusation. Sadness.

And it had been directed at him, by Jodie, on behalf of Vivian.

“Seth, help me out here—what’s the name of Lola’s friend from the call center? The little dark-haired one?” Dennis said at his elbow.

Seth blinked, wrenching his gaze from the tableau across the room. He had to force himself to focus on the other man, then he had to prod himself to remember what Dennis had asked, because the bulk of his brain was busy trying to understand what he’d witnessed.

“Bianca. Her name is Bianca,” he said absently.

“Of course. And the other girl she’s with is Zara. It was good of them to come.”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

“If you haven’t got plans this afternoon, I was thinking I might take Mel somewhere nice for lunch. You’d be welcome to join us. And Daisy, of course.”

Seth frowned. This afternoon. He genuinely couldn’t think that far ahead. Not when his mind was so full of Vivian.

The wobble of her chin.

The tremble in her hands.

The way Jodie had looked at him. As though she wanted to kick him. As though she wanted to hurt him.

There were probably lots of reasons for Jodie to look at him like that. And Vivian might well have been upset by something said during the service. Everyone had commented on how emotional it was.

She might also be upset because she’d spoken to him. Because he’d kissed her cheek and walked away.

Because—maybe—she’d spent the past few days being bloody miserable as she stared down the barrel of a life that didn’t include him.

Was it possible? Or was he simply clutching at straws, a desperate, drowning man?

“I’m sorry, Dennis, but there’s something I need to do,” Seth said, already turning away.

He was halfway there before he realized the object of his intent was missing. Jodie and Jason stood alone, their heads together in private conversation. Seth scanned the crowd, standing on his toes in order to see every corner. There was no flash of deep blue dress, no flare of strawberry-blond hair. Urgent, he made his way to his brother’s side.

“Where’s Vivian?”

Jodie started, one hand clutching at Jason’s arm. “You scared me.”

“Where is she?” he asked again.

“She had a headache. She went home,” Jason said.

Seth’s gaze shot to the door. She must have slipped out while he was talking to Dennis. She could have been gone only a minute or two.

He took off, not bothering with explanations. He had to catch Vivian.

He erupted into the warm air, casting about for any sign of her. There was no one on the path to the main parking lot, and he spun to look in the opposite direction. Again, nothing, which meant he needed to guess and hope he got it right.

He broke into a run, his suit jacket billowing behind him, his tie flying over his shoulder, fully aware that he could have this whole thing totally ass-about and that he might be about to expose himself in the worst possible way.

He had no idea what Vivian’s true feelings were. She’d never given any indication that she wanted anything from him beyond great sex and a few laughs. She’d talked about things getting messy, but she’d never said she wanted more. Not from him anyway. Like him, she’d always been very careful to guard herself when they were together. She’d kept things light, and she’d met every riposte he sent her way with a witty sally of her own. She’d never once let him see the chinks in her armor, just as he’d never let her see the chinks in his.

That was the way it had always been between them, right from the start. A battle of wills. A game. A dance. Parry, thrust, advance, retreat. Neither of them giving any ground. Neither of them showing any weakness.

It had always been part of the fun. Part of the danger and challenge.

It had also stopped them from talking about what they were to each other, what place they held in each other’s lives. God forbid they let their guards down. God forbid they show weakness or risk hurt. Not after ten years. Not when there was so much at stake.

Potentially.

He rounded the corner to the parking lot and caught sight of Vivian as she walked the final few feet to her car. She pulled her keys from her bag—

“Vivian!”

He put on a burst of speed as she glanced over her shoulder. She froze when she saw him, then slowly turned to face him. When he stopped in front of her, she reached out and wrapped her hand around the door handle.

As though she needed the support.

“Seth. Is something wrong?”

She was utterly composed, a faint, slightly quizzical smile on her lips. Friendly, familiar, but not too familiar. Not too anything. If he hadn’t seen that moment with the tea, if her hand weren’t white-knuckle tight on the handle, he wouldn’t have suspected that something far less orderly and controlled might be going on beneath the surface.

“There’s something I forgot to tell you. Something important,” he said. “That night, when we were talking about why I never settled down. I said it had never felt right, that I’d never met someone amazing enough, but that was a lie.”

He studied her face, trying to get a read on her, aware of his heart threatening to beat its way out of his chest. He wasn’t sure if he was hopeful or terrified, maybe a bit of both, but he was beyond the point of no return.

He’d sat in a room and said goodbye to a woman who should have lived a good, long life. He’d listened to her parents sob, and he’d paid witness to her mother’s painful regret. He was
over
being safe. He was over letting this particular woman walk away from him because to ask her to stop and stay might mean he was exposing himself utterly. Something Seth Anderson never did, because he was just too damn cool for that kind of vulnerability.