Irresistible: Cloverleigh Farms Standalone

by Melanie Harlow

  “You know, Mack, you’re family to us.” He picked up the photo of me and the girls I’d been looking at earlier and took it in his lap.

  I felt his kind words like a kick in the gut. “Thank you, sir.”

  “And I hope you know that you’ll always be welcome here.”

  “Thank you. I’m …” I cleared my throat. “I’m very glad to be a part of this team.”

  He looked up at me. “It’s more than a team.”

  I nodded. My throat was too dry to speak.

  Setting the photo back on the desk, he said, “I never had any sons, and my son-in-law isn’t around here very often, so if you’d ever like to go fishing or hunting or anything, you let me know. If I am going to slow down some, I’m gonna have some time on my hands. I’d like to fill it doing things I enjoy, spending time with people I care about.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” I attempted to smile, but I felt like shit. I didn’t deserve his kindness after what I’d done to Frannie. I didn’t deserve to have him refer to me as family or offer to go fishing with me or think of me as a surrogate son. Had that been his way of telling me he was okay with a relationship between me and his daughter? Dammit, I didn’t deserve that either! I almost wished he’d come at me red-faced and angry, railing about how I couldn’t treat her like that and get away with it. I wished he’d thrown a punch.

  I arrived home on edge, and Frannie barely looked at me before hugging the kids goodbye and disappearing into the back hall to put on her boots and coat. Again, I followed her.

  “Did you say anything to them about not coming back?” I asked.

  “No.” She pulled on her boots. “You told me not to.”

  “I know. I’ll do it tonight. I spoke with an agency today. They said it wouldn’t be a problem to find a replacement sitter by next week.”

  “Good.” She zipped up her coat and put her hat on. She wore braids in her hair again today, and for some reason the sight of them made me even sadder. I’d never smell her hair again. Or brush it. Or see it spilling across my pillow, dangling above my chest, cascading down her naked back.

  I stuck my hands in my pockets, my heart aching. “I guess I’ll see you around then.”

  She barely looked at me before walking out, closing the door behind her. For a few frantic seconds, I tried to think of some reason—any reason—to run after her, keep her here a little longer. But I couldn’t.

  Instead I went to the living room, moved the curtain aside, and peeked out the front window, watching as she got into her car. She started the engine, but didn’t go anywhere right away. I thought maybe she was on the phone or texting someone, but then she dropped her face into her hands and I realized she was crying.

  My chest felt like it was being split in two.

  “Daddy, what are you doing?” asked Felicity, coming up behind me.

  “Nothing,” I said, letting the curtain fall into place again.

  “Yes, you are, you’re looking at Frannie,” she said, jumping onto the couch and pushing the curtain aside again. Then she gasped. “Oh, she’s crying!”

  “She’s crying?” Immediately the other two girls jumped onto the couch and craned their necks for a better view.

  I yanked the curtain in front of them. “I don’t know.”

  “She is, I can tell,” Millie said. “We should go get her. What if she needs help?”

  “No!” I yelled. “Leave her alone!”

  All three girls looked at me in surprise.

  I ran a hand through my hair and lowered my voice. “Sometimes grownups get sad about things. Frannie is fine.”

  “How do you know?” Millie persisted. “She didn’t say anything to us about being sad.”

  “Because I know,” I snapped. I thought about her gentle, trusting father and his kind words to me this afternoon and felt even worse.

  “Did you make her sad?” Winnie asked, her tone accusatory. “Did you yell at her? You make me sad when you yell at me.”

  “Me too,” added Felicity. “And you’ve been yelling a lot this week.”

  “Why did you yell at Frannie?” Millie crossed her arms over her chest. “We love Frannie. You should apologize. You probably scared her!”

  “For fuck’s sake, Millie, I didn’t yell at Frannie!”

  “Now you’re yelling at me.”

  “No, I’m not!” I yelled.

  Winnie started to cry and ran up the stairs. Felicity and Millie exchanged a look that said OMG Dad Is Losing It.

  “Look,” I said, trying to stay calm. “Sometimes dads yell. It doesn’t mean they don’t love their kids. It just means they’re having a bad day.”

  “Frannie says a hug makes a bad day better,” said Felicity, pushing her glasses up her nose. “But I’m sorry, I don’t really feel like hugging you right now.”

  “Me neither.” Millie shook her head.

  Sighing, I flopped onto the other end of the couch and lay my head back. Closed my eyes. “I’m sorry, girls. It’s been a tough week.”

  They didn’t say anything for a few minutes. I thought they might have even gone upstairs, but when I opened my eyes, they were still there looking at me. Then I had an idea.

  “Frannie is sad because she can’t be your babysitter anymore,” I said.

  They looked at each other and then back at me, their expressions a mixture of shock and panic. “What?” Felicity cried. “Why?”

  “Because she’s got a new job at a coffee shop and it’s going to be longer hours.”

  “She doesn’t work with you at Cloverleigh anymore?” Millie asked.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “But we’ll never see her again,” Felicity said, tears filling her eyes.

  “She promised to come to my fashion show,” protested Millie, her voice cracking. “It’s tomorrow. Is she still coming?”

  I exhaled, tipping my head back again. I’d forgotten about that damn show. “I don’t know. Probably not.”

  Both of them started to cry, which made my temper flare again. I’d lost her too, but you didn’t see me crying—although I felt like it. “Stop it, you two,” I snapped. “There’s nothing to cry about. She’s just too busy to come here anymore.”

  That made them sob harder, and Felicity wiped her nose on her sleeve. “It’s not fair,” she wept.

  “If you’re going to cry like that, go up to your rooms,” I ordered like the ogre I was. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  They jumped off the couch and ran upstairs, and I heard two doors slam a moment later. From above came the sounds of wailing and despair.

  “Great,” I muttered. “Fucking Father of the Year.”

  I sat there for a moment and listened to my children sob, wishing I could cry it out myself. This week had been nothing but misery and stress. A little release would feel pretty damn good right now.

  But I couldn’t. I owed my children an apology, an ice cream cone, and a hug—if they’d let me give them one.

  After sitting there for a while, stewing in my own self-imposed agony, I got to my feet and headed slowly up the stairs, my head pounding, my nerves shot, and my heart in a million little pieces.

  Frannie

  Saturday morning, I slipped into the high school cafeteria where the fashion show was taking place, hoping I wasn’t too late. It was crowded and all the chairs were taken, so I stood along the back wall with some other late-comers.

  I’d been working at the bakery that morning and had lost track of time—baking in the huge, beautiful kitchen at Coffee Darling had salved my soul this week, especially after seeing Mack Thursday and Friday. It had been even harder than I’d expected. It broke my heart even further to think that I wouldn’t see the girls much anymore, but I understood why he wanted to get a new nanny. And I’d go out of my way to visit them when I knew he wouldn’t be there. I didn’t want them to think I didn’t care about them anymore just because I wasn’t their nanny now.

  The fashion show was in full swing, with mothers and da
ughters walking the runway arm in arm wearing matching outfits they’d created themselves. The theme of the show was Healing Hunger with Hearts, and all proceeds were going to an organization fighting hunger. An announcer introduced each model, and I watched eight mother-daughter pairs proudly stroll to the end of the runway and back, hearts on their shirts and grins on their faces. I hoped I hadn’t missed Millie and Mack already. Glancing around at the crowd, I spotted Felicity and Winnie sitting together in the front row.

  “Our final duo is a little different,” said the announcer, and I immediately focused on the runway again. “It’s a father-daughter pair, Millie MacAllister and her dad, Declan!”

  The crowd cheered, and Mack and Millie appeared, hand in hand. My breath stopped for a moment. Millie was beaming, absolutely radiant in the white T-shirt covered with pink and red glitter hearts she’d made. Mack looked pretty miserable at first, but as they made their way to the end of the runway, which bisected the cafeteria, Millie looked up at him and he met her eyes. Seeing how happy and proud she was must have buoyed his spirits, because he grinned back at her and seemed to walk a little taller, puffing his glitter-covered chest out. When they reached the end of the runway, Mack turned Millie under his arm as if they were on the dance floor, bowed to her, and kissed her cheek. The crowd went crazy.

  My heart was pounding so hard I could barely hear the music, and tears dripped from my eyes, but I couldn’t help laughing a little. It was the kind of thing my dad would have done for one of his girls, too—my sweet, gruff, and gentle dad who’d come into the bakery for coffee that morning just to see me, because he missed seeing me at the inn.

  I’d filled his cup, introduced him to Natalie and her husband, and showed him around. “I’m proud of you, peanut,” he’d said, pulling me into a hug. The nickname made my throat close up.

  “Thanks, Daddy.”

  “Are you happy?”

  I’d nodded, my eyes filling. Embarrassed, I wiped at the tears. “Yes.”

  And it was mostly true—I was happy with my decision to leave the inn, partner up with Natalie, and work at the shop, but I was heartsick about Mack. He’d left a hole in my heart that couldn’t be filled with anything else.

  Watching him now, I choked back sobs even as I clapped along with everyone else when the announcer said, “Millie convinced the committee to rename the fashion show next year to be more inclusive. We hope more fathers and sons will join us for the Healing Hunger with Hearts family fashion show next year.” The show concluded with all the models appearing and taking a final bow, and for a moment, Mack caught my eye.

  My stomach flipped. My pulse skittered nervously out of control. We stood with our eyes locked for a full ten seconds, neither of us smiling, and for a moment I felt like maybe he’d been as miserable as I’d been this week and was sorry he’d broken things off.

  But then he looked away, and my heart sank.

  I decided not to wait around to talk to Millie. Seeing Mack was too painful. I didn’t trust myself to get close to him without crying. Instead, I slipped out of the cafeteria and hurried through the parking lot to my car, where I sent her a text.

  Millie, you looked amazing! I am so proud of you and I hope you had so much fun! Sorry I could not stay to chat, I am working at the new shop and have to get back. I will see you soon, I promise!!

  Tears running down my cheeks, I dropped my phone into my bag and drove back to work, wondering how long it took to fall out of love with someone.

  I wasn’t sure my heart could take it.

  Mack

  “Frannie came!” Millie exclaimed from the back of the car on the drive home. “She was there!”

  “I didn’t see her,” Felicity whined. “How do you know?”

  “She sent me a text.” Millie read the text aloud. “Dad, she’s working. Can we go see her at the coffee shop?”

  “Not today.”

  All three moaned in grand symphonic fashion and followed it up with more whining.

  “Come on, Dad. Please?”

  “Why not?

  “You never say yes to anything.”

  “You’re no fun this week.”

  “What else are we going to do today?”

  “Finally I don’t have ballet on a Saturday and we just have to go home?”

  Instead of answering, I put the radio on and turned up the volume.

  At home, the three girls gave me pouty faces and dirty looks before trudging upstairs to their bedrooms. I stayed in the kitchen and tried to make a grocery list, but when I saw Frannie’s phone number in her handwriting on the notepad, I froze. Stared at it. Remembered the night she’d written it down for me, how much fun I’d had with her. She’d taken a shitty day and made it amazing. She could make all my days amazing if I’d let her … but I couldn’t. Look how I’d fucked it up already! My kids were furious with me. Frannie couldn’t even look at me. I was probably never going to have sex that good again in my life. And it would serve me right.

  I was a United States Marine, goddammit. I should have been stronger. I should have been able to resist her in the first place. I should have known that a woman like her could never be mine.

  “Dad.”

  I turned around and saw all three of my daughters lined up tallest to shortest, arms crossed and defiance in their eyes. “What now?”

  Millie was the spokesperson. “We’re calling a family meeting.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes. Right now. In the living room.”

  “Can’t it wait? I need to make a grocery list.” I had a feeling I didn’t want to hear what they had to say.

  “No. It can’t. We’ve decided.”

  “Decided what?”

  “That you’re being an idiot and you need the hard words.”

  I blinked at her. “Well, damn.”

  “Living room, please.” She pointed her finger in that direction, and I had no choice but to follow the order.

  They trailed me to the couch. “Sit there,” Felicity commanded.

  I sat and leaned back, knees widespread and arms crossed, scowling like an angry teenager about to get lectured.

  They faced me with matching angry expressions and stubborn sets of their jaws. “We have something to say,” Millie began.

  “I know.” I waved a hand toward her. “Get on with it.”

  “It’s about Frannie,” said Winnie.

  I jerked my chin. “I don’t want to talk about Frannie.”

  “Well, you’re going to!” Millie yelled, sounding so much like me it was a little eerie (although I probably would have used the word fuck somewhere in the sentence). “Or you’re at least going to listen, because we can’t take it anymore.”

  “Take what?”

  “Your terrible mood since you two broke up! We don’t understand why you’re not in love anymore and we want to know what happened.”

  My spine snapped straight. “What do you mean? Frannie and I weren’t in love!”

  My daughters exchanged the mother of all eye rolls. Someone sighed dramatically.

  “Dad. Please.” Millie held out a palm. “You guys were totally in love.”

  “It was, like, so obvious,” said Felicity.

  I looked at Winnie.

  “It was, Daddy,” she whispered. “I saw you in the closet. ‘Member?”

  “And I saw you in the kitchen,” added Millie.

  “And I saw you all the time, everywhere, with your googly eyes.” Felicity took off her glasses and held them up. “I didn’t even need these!”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “Girls, you don’t understand. Even if we did have feelings for each other, we can’t be together.”

  “Why not?” Millie demanded.

  “Because I don’t have any time for her,” I said. “I’m busy with you guys and with work. It’s not fair to her.”

  “She didn’t seem to mind.” Millie raised her brows and tapped her foot. “And she was here all the time, so it’s not like you had to leave us to
go see her.”

  I struggled for words. “Girls, you’re too young to understand this, but relationships are a lot of work. You have to invest a lot of time and energy into them, and … I’m no good at that. Look at what happened before. I can’t go through it again, and I definitely wouldn’t put you through it again. I love you too much.”

  They exchanged another look. “We get that,” Millie said. “But we also know that Frannie is not like Mom at all. She’s different. So everything would be different.”

  I shook my head. “I hear what you’re saying, but there are other reasons why it won’t work,” I told them, feeling like I was breaking hearts two, three, and four within a week.

  “Like what?” More toe tapping.

  Sighing, I fell back again, exhausted and depleted, and wishing I could crawl into bed and never get out. Her father wasn’t an issue. We no longer worked together. The age difference didn’t seem that big a deal anymore. And my terrible ex was always going to be my terrible ex, with or without Frannie in our lives. “I don’t know.”

  “Daddy.” Dropping the tough guy act, Millie dropped onto the couch next to me. “Do you love her?”

  Too miserable to lie, I nodded.

  “Then it’s like I said—remember? When you love someone, you want to be with them. You agreed with me.”

  Winnie sat on my other side and put a hand on my leg. “It’s like me and Ned the Hammerhead from Shedd. I don’t feel right if he’s not next to me.”

  I looked at her and my throat tightened. “It’s exactly like that.”

  “You have to get her back, Dad.” Felicity knelt in front of me and set her chin on my knee. “Can you?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “She’s pretty upset with me. I told her we had to end things.”

  Millie sighed. “That was really stupid.”

  I gave her a look. “Hey. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was doing it for you. Being your dad is the most important thing in my entire life, and I don’t want anything to take away from that.”