Wife and Mother Wanted (12 page)

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Authors: Nicola Marsh

BOOK: Wife and Mother Wanted
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Brody sat bolt upright and tightened his grip on Molly to prevent her slipping off his lap.

But that would mean he
loved
Carissa…

Ah, hell
.

‘Daddy, are you okay? You look kind of sick—like how I looked that time I ate too many choc-chip cookies.’

He was sick all right. Lovesick. And it had taken the woman he loved to leave to give him a wake-up call.

Way to go, Elliott
.

‘Daddy?’

He focussed his attention on Molly, feeling like a dazed sleepwalker stumbling through a hazy dream into consciousness. ‘I’m just tired, munchkin. Why don’t you get ready for bed, and I’ll come in and read you any story you like?’

‘You mean it? Even
The Fairy Princess
?’

His gut turned over at Molly’s innocent reference, memories of a real-life fairy princess fresh in his mind. Unfortunately, he sure as hell wasn’t any Prince Charming. He needed time to think—time to sort through his feelings now that he’d recognised them for what they were.

He loved Carissa. He loved her.

And it scared him to death.

Dropping a kiss on Molly’s forehead, he said, ‘Yes, even that one. Say goodnight to Aunt Daisy, and I’ll be in shortly.’

‘Thanks, Daddy. I don’t feel so sad any more. And when you come to my room I’ll show you the present Carissa got me. And it isn’t even my birthday or anything. Goodnight, Aunt Daisy. You’ll have to come over more often now and play.’

He watched Molly scamper from the room and sat back, shaking his head.

‘I’ll be off, then,’ Daisy said, and her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something else before snapping shut again.

He wouldn’t have blamed her if she had. Daisy had been right all along. He hadn’t realised what he’d had in Carissa till she was gone.

‘Goodnight, Daisy.’ He stood up and crossed the kitchen, opening the door for her. ‘And thanks.’

Closing the door, he leaned against it and shut his eyes for a moment, conjuring up Carissa’s image.

He loved her.

Well, I’ll be damned
.

Now all he had to do was find her, do some serious grovelling, and hope she had it in her generous heart to forgive him. And love him back.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

C
ARISSA
slipped her feet into Tinkerbell slippers, padded into the kitchen, poured a glass of fruity Chardonnay and slid onto one of the stainless steel barstools, taking in the impressive view of Sydney’s skyline from the kitchen window. The Harbour Bridge glittered like a giant coat hanger, while city lights sparkled like fairy dust on a magician’s cloak.

Though she missed Stockton, relaxing in Kristen’s fancy apartment was worth it for the view alone. It had been two days since she’d left town—two long days, when each twenty-four hours had seemed to drag into the next. She obviously needed to take time out more often if this was how she reacted to being away from the shop.

In fact, it had been too long since she’d had a proper holiday, and maybe this break would give her time to plan one. And perhaps that would take her mind off Stockton and what—or should she say who?—she’d left behind.

She’d thought that by leaving her problems behind she’d be able to forget about them—just as she had with the Lovells. However, she hadn’t loved them like
she loved Brody and Molly, and leaving town had only served to drive home how much she missed them—how much she wanted to be a part of their lives.

Setting her wine aside, she wandered into the living room, with its sleek lines and glossy chrome and leather furniture. Everything matched perfectly, from the coffee table to the coatstand, and was the complete antithesis of her small, crammed cottage. However, one similarity struck her: there were no family photos.

Like her, Kristen had had the upbringing from hell, and obviously didn’t want any reminders. The only reference to her family was in the luxurious master bedroom, where several large photos of the three sisters took pride of place on her dressing table and bedside tables.

Of the three of them, Kristen seemed the most aloof, the one most driven to succeed—as if filling a void in her life. Carissa had bonded with Tahnee much more quickly, though she hoped that on Kristen’s return the three of them would be able to spend some time together, whether she decided to stay on in Sydney permanently or not.

Kristen’s adoptive parents had died around the same time as Betty Lovell—less than a year after Ron had curled up his toes—and though she’d escaped their dreadful home years earlier, Carissa had attended Betty’s funeral out of respect and to bury her residual animosity. Pity she hadn’t been able to do the same with her memories.

Though all that was firmly in the past. Her sisters were her family now. And one day she’d have a family of her own. A family who’d love her as much as she
loved them. All she had to do was forget the Elliotts first.

Simple. Not.

As she skimmed through the magazine rack, the doorbell rang. Glancing down at her denim cut-offs, her pink silk camisole and fairy slippers, she hoped that whoever it was had the wrong apartment. In fact, they
had
to have the wrong place, because no one knew she was here apart from Tahnee.

Grinning at the image she would present to her mistaken visitor, she opened the door.

‘Hey, Carissa.’

Carissa’s smile waned, her mouth went dry and her heart slammed against her ribcage as her mind registered that the visitor was Brody Elliott—the same Brody Elliott she’d run from, the same Brody Elliott who held her heart in the palm of his hand.

He looked incredible, living up to his bad-boy persona in black jeans, a black T-shirt that looked poured on, and having had another haircut. Though she’d liked his scruffy, hair-curling-around-the-collar look, this new, sharper Brody looked like a model, the short-back-and-sides accentuating his cheekbones and adding a depth to his eyes she’d never imagined possible.

He looked heartbreakingly sexy…and she should know. He’d broken her heart without trying.

‘How did you find me? What are you doing here?’ She finally managed to speak when her tongue unglued itself from the roof of her mouth.

‘I remembered you said your sister lived in Arcadia Towers, and the name Lewis was on the mailbox. As for why I’m here—I came to see you.’

Well, duh!

She kind of got that part. The part she didn’t get was
why
.

Sighing, she stepped away from the door. ‘You’d better come in, then.’

‘Thanks.’

She willed herself not to inhale as he walked in, knowing it would resurrect a host of memories she’d rather forget. However, she had to breathe at some point, and unfortunately that time came as he brushed past her, exuding a powerful combination of the faint musk soap he used along with pheromones that were pure Brody.

She shut her eyes for a moment, desperately trying to block out the other instances when she’d got close enough to smell the heady blend—like their first kiss on the dance floor, and their brief farewell embrace when he’d broken her heart.

So much for forgetting. How was a woman supposed to forget this guy when he turned up on her doorstep smelling this good?

‘I’m sorry about dropping by unannounced, but I had to see you.’

Her eyes flew open to find him gazing at her with that intent chocolate stare he did so well. The kind of look that penetrated all the way down to her soul and left her strangely breathless.

‘Is it Molly?’

Her heart almost stopped at the thought. God, how selfish could she be? Here she was, having palpitations over how sexy the man looked, thinking how wonderful it was that he’d come to see her, when the little girl she loved could be ill. ‘Is she okay? Did something happen?’

‘She’s fine. Well, mostly.’

See—she
knew
something was wrong. Why did it have to be Molly? The little darling had been through so much already.

‘What does that mean?’

‘She misses you.’ He lifted a hand to run it through his hair and then stopped, as if startled to find the hair not there.

‘Oh.’


I
miss you,’ he murmured, crossing the room to stare out of the window, and she wondered if she’d heard correctly.

However, before she could formulate the words to ask him, he spun around and stared at her like a wild man. ‘Why did you bolt like that?’

‘I—I needed some space—some time to think.’

Some time to heal. Some time to stop loving you
.

‘You didn’t even say goodbye to me,’ he blustered, sounding more like the Brody of old, despite his new look.

‘Would that have changed anything?’ she asked softly, still at a loss as to why he was here.

So he missed her? Big deal. That wasn’t enough. She wanted love—the whole kit and caboodle. And if her brief time away had taught her anything, she wouldn’t settle for less.

She’d been raised in a family without love, had lived with two adoptive parents who’d tolerated each other, who’d probably cared about each other, but had rarely showed it.

Never again. She wanted more. She
deserved
more.

‘Ah, hell,’ he muttered, striding across the room to stand two feet in front of her. ‘We want you to come back.’

He looked ready to haul her into his arms, but thought better of it when she took a step back.

‘Why?’

‘Because…because we miss you. I know I’m moody and grumpy, and downright obnoxious at times, but for Molly’s sake, will you do it?’

No mention of love. No mention of the words she so desperately needed to hear.

But she gave him one last shot at it anyway.

‘What are we talking about, here? Are you asking me to come back to Stockton as your neighbour, or something more?’

A faint colour stained his cheeks. ‘Why don’t you just come back and we’ll take it from there?’

And, just like that,
major reality check
flashed across her brain like a huge neon sign.

Nothing had changed. He still saw her as a nice woman who loved his daughter; a woman who was good for the occasional flirtation but nothing more. Sure, she could go back—and fall right back into being nice Carissa, caring Carissa, as she had her whole life.

She’d always settled for second best, not wanting to rock the boat. Rocking the boat caused waves that could wipe out everything and wreak devastation, and she had no intention of being a victim this time around. At least living with the Lovells had taught her that much.

Well, she had a newsflash for him.

Caring Carissa was taking a holiday, and she had no idea when she’d be back.

‘I think you should leave now,’ she said, turning her back on him to walk into the kitchen and take a healthy
swig of wine. If ever she needed false courage to deal with a situation, it was now.

‘What do you expect me to say?’ He followed her into the kitchen, his voice taking on a pleading tone that startled her as much as his presence here had.

Shaking her head, she skirted around the island bench and headed for the front door, finding the confines of the kitchen claustrophobic with him in there.

‘When you figure it out, let me know.’ She opened the door and held it for him, pointing the way out.

Shaking his head, he made to brush past her, stopping dead at the last moment and dragging her into his arms. ‘You want me to say I love you? Well, I do. I love you, Carissa. You’ll be a great mum for Molly.’

For one heartstopping moment she almost capitulated. Being this close to him, touching him, hearing those three magical little words weakened her resolve.

However, she knew there was no emotion behind his profession of love. He’d blurted it out like a desperate man using desperate means to get what he wanted—and in this case he wanted his daughter’s friend to come home and play. If he’d said he loved her
without
the tag of being a mother for Molly she might have believed him, but she was through believing in false declarations of love.

Ron Lovell had said he loved her…before locking her in a cupboard because she hadn’t hugged him hard enough.

Betty Lovell had said she loved her…before turning a blind eye to her husband’s cruelty.

And she’d had it up to her eyeballs with guys who said the L word to get something they wanted. With the losers she’d dated it had usually been sex. With Brody
he was asking so much more—and she couldn’t go there. Not unless she had the whole package: his commitment, his adoration, and a guarantee that she was the one and only love of his life.

Pushing him away, she stepped out of his embrace. ‘Goodbye, Brody. Close the door on your way out.’

And, before she fell apart, she held her head high and walked into the bedroom, listening for the slam of the door that would signal the end of her hopes and dreams.

Though she expected it, when the sound came it didn’t make it any easier, and she curled up in the foetal position on her sister’s king-sized bed and sobbed her heart out.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

B
RODY
stomped into his hotel room, grabbed a mineral water from the fridge, twisted the top off and drank deeply, wondering how he’d managed to make such a mess of things.

He’d had it all planned out. See Carissa, convince her to come home, to take a chance on a relationship, give her some time to get used to the idea that he loved her. Instead, she’d all but dragged his declaration out of him, and rather than being romantic and special it had sounded pathetic. Worse, he could tell she hadn’t believed him.

If only she loved him. Sure, he knew she cared—she’d said as much. Otherwise she wouldn’t have put up with his moodiness for months, and she wouldn’t have invited him away for a weekend. How ironic that here they both were in Sydney, as she’d wanted, but totally alone. Carissa loved Molly, and he’d counted on that being enough to convince her to come home. The rest, like the three of them becoming a family, could have come later.

But something had gone horribly wrong. Whether it had been in the planning or the delivery, she’d sent him
packing—and now he had to resort to bringing in the big guns. For there was no way he would let her go this easily. He loved her, and the next time she heard those words he wanted her to believe them.

So plan A had been scuttled.

Time to move onto plan B…

Whatever the hell that was.

Carissa stepped outside into the bright morning sunshine and slid her sunglasses into place—more to hide her swollen eyes than to reflect the glare. She’d had a terrible night, tossing and turning. When she’d eventually stopped crying, that was. She hadn’t cried that much since receiving her first beating with a wooden spoon from Ron, when she’d run away all those years ago, and funnily enough the feeling now was just the same: disillusionment, disappointment and pain.

So much pain.

Shaking her head to dispel the fog of gloom surrounding her—she’d promised herself to cheer up this morning—she fished around in her handbag for her mobile. She needed to ring Tahnee and check how the shop was doing, and see if she minded staying on for longer than anticipated.

Thanks to Brody, she’d come to a decision last night. It was definitely time for a holiday—a long, leisurely holiday—in some exotic hotspot where she could unwind, have daily massages and not set eyes on a guy for the duration!

As she wrapped her hand around her mobile, something grabbed her attention, and she slipped her sunglasses up and rubbed her free hand across her eyes,
wondering if the sleepless night had taken more of a toll than she’d thought.

Blinking, she opened her eyes and refocussed. No, it wasn’t a mirage.

There, on the opposite street corner, stood a billboard. Not just any billboard, but a huge billboard that up until today had advertised the latest exclusive sports car.

However, the car was gone, and in its place stood a whole bunch of giant letters, spelling out a message that had her leaning against the nearest wall for support.

I LOVE YOU, CARISSA LEWIS.

FOR YOUR BEAUTY, INSIDE AND OUT, YOUR CARING, YOUR ABILITY TO BRING OUT THE BEST IN ME AND EVERYONE AROUND YOU.

YOU ARE THE ONE AND ONLY LOVE OF MY LIFE.

WILL YOU MARRY ME?

She rubbed a hand across her eyes again, opened them and took another look. Yes, the message still read the same.

‘So, what do you think? Will you?’

While she’d been in a daze, Brody had sidled up to her and now stood leaning against the same wall she did, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

‘Are you insane?’

‘Yeah. Insanely in love with you.’

‘But…But…’

‘And your cute butt. And your smile. And your expressive eyes. And your—’

‘Okay, okay. I get the picture.’ A tiny bubble of happiness worked its way to the surface through the mire of self-doubt and pain and burst into a smile. ‘How? When? Why?’

‘How? By calling in a few favours from the guys on the force and the fire team. When? In the wee hours of this morning. Why?’ He slid an arm around her waist and hugged her close. ‘Because I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you.’

The feel of his arm anchoring her to his side, the tender expression in his eyes and the words she’d dreamt of hearing blurred into one amazing kaleidoscope of joy. However, when something seemed too good to be true, it usually was, and at the risk of bursting the happiness bubble surrounding them she had to ask the tough questions, silently praying he had the right answers.

‘What about Jackie?’

‘Huh?’

‘I thought she was the love of your life, and I don’t want to compete with that. I
can’t
compete with that.’

Cradling her close, he tipped her chin up with a finger and stared into her eyes. ‘Jackie and I were a heat-of-the-moment item, and the main reason we married was because she fell pregnant.’

‘Oh.’

‘Not long into the marriage I realised it was a mistake, but for the sake of Molly I stuck it out. To compound our problems, she wasn’t the best mother in the world, and I found it difficult to forgive her for that.’

‘So when she died you were estranged?’

Pain flickered in his eyes and she reached out and
smoothed his brow, knowing it was a futile gesture but wanting to touch him, to convey in some small way that she understood, that she sympathised.

‘Emotionally, I guess we’d been estranged for a long time. But then, when I realised the part I’d played in her death, I felt worse than ever.’

‘But it wasn’t your fault. Surely you can see that now?’

‘Lately I’ve been doing some thinking, and I guess it’s time to stop feeling so guilty and get on with my life. In a way, I think I’ve been hanging on to the guilt to stop me from really examining how I felt at the time, and as much as I hate to admit it relief was mingled in there alongside the grief.’

He glanced away for a moment, his gaze focussing on the billboard before returning to look into her eyes, a new resolve adding a sheen to the dark brown depths. ‘It sounds like I’m a sort of monster when I say it like that, but in accepting my feelings as legitimate at the time I’ve been able to sort through how I feel now. I was too afraid to open up to you—too afraid that if I got too close and then I lost you I wouldn’t be able to cope. I didn’t love Jackie, and losing her ripped me apart. Loving and losing you would finish me.’

Carissa had asked for answers and she’d well and truly got them. Brody Elliott was a man in touch with his feelings. He was a man who could face his demons and come through the other side with a whole new perspective on life. In short, he was a man she admired, respected and loved. And she’d make sure he knew it every day of however long they had together in this lifetime.

‘That’s a pretty big statement you’ve made up there, Elliott.’

‘I had to do it. I don’t think you believed me last night when I said I love you. And I do, Carissa. I love you with every bone in this grumpy body. And then some.’

Reaching up, she cradled his face in her hands, enjoying the rasp of stubble against her palms, knowing it would feel heavenly on the rest of her body.

‘I love you, grumpy bones and all. There’s nothing more sexy than a man in touch with his feelings, and, boy, have you run the gamut with those. Am I dreaming? Is this real?’

He smiled, and she caressed his lips with her thumbs. ‘It’s real, Fairy Princess. Believe me, after the amount of ribbing I copped from the guys over that—’ he pointed at the billboard ‘—it’s real.’

‘If I’m a fairy princess, doesn’t that make you my Prince Charming?’

‘Hey, let’s get one thing straight. I may love you, but I’m no prince. I’ll still be moody on occasion—though for the bulk of the time I’ll do my damnedest to live up to the charming part.’

‘In that case, how about you start by giving your princess a kiss?’

‘Your wish is my command,’ he murmured, his lips descending to hers, unleashing the latent heat that had been bubbling between them for months.

‘Hey, why don’t you get a room?’ a teenager called out as he skateboarded past at a million miles an hour, and they sprang apart, laughing.

‘So, your answer is yes?’

She snapped her fingers. ‘Oh, did I forget about that part?’

He tried a mock frown and failed. ‘Yeah, you did.’

‘Of course I’ll marry you. Though there is one thing we haven’t discussed. How will Molly feel about all this? I don’t want to do anything to hurt or frighten her.’

Her heart hoped the little girl would be ecstatic at the news, but the logical side of her brain—the side that remembered how she’d felt when finding herself lumbered with new parents—told her something quite different.

Though initially happy to leave the orphanage behind, she’d soon resented the Lovells, and it had looked as if the feeling was mutual. She loved Molly too much to inflict that sort of baggage on a child at her age.

Brody cupped her face and stared at her with those incredible melted-chocolate eyes. ‘Molly has been a major part of my decision. I think you of all people understand that. I’ve always put her needs ahead of my own, despite what you thought at the start, but this time it just so happens our needs match. We both need you, Carissa. We both love you, and we can’t wait for you to become a part of our family.’

She swatted his hands away, tears clogging her throat. ‘Where does it say in the fairy tale that the princess turns on the waterworks?’

Smiling, he dropped a light kiss on her lips and took hold of her hand. ‘From this moment on we’re living our own fairy tale. With the happiest ending of all.’

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