Love by Design: A Heartswell Harbour Romance

by Mavis Williams

  “It’s just very inconsiderate,” Delia pouted. She had mastered pouting, Hudson was certain, at about the same time she had learned to walk. “I am always on time. I always let you know where I am and what I’m doing, but you seem to think you can run on your own schedule. Like my needs don’t matter one bit.”

  Wait for it—aaaand, there it is.

  One tear.

  He wasn’t sure how she did it, but she could make her eyes well up until they shone with unshed tears, and then one— just one— would slide slowly down her cheek like it was a computer-generated raindrop. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment it had stopped tugging at his heart strings. Her perfect tear made its perfect way down her perfect cheek and all he felt was tired.

  “Delia, you know I have to work,” he said. “And my work schedule has to be flexible to accommodate my father’s needs. You can’t just show up at the office and expect me to be free.”

  “Well, maybe it’s about time you stood up to old man Proxly and started calling the shots.” Her voice changed from petulant to shrill in a heartbeat. The tear disappeared as her eyes became clear as ice. “You should be the boss. How long do you expect me to wait?”

  “Wait?” He often lost the threads of Delia’s conversations. Their brains seemed to be running on two different tracks with different switching mechanisms.

  “For the house, idiot!” She tapped a perfectly manicured finger on the lifestyle magazine on the counter. There was a stack of them on the coffee table and another in the bedroom. They all insisted that a home should be made of stainless steel and glass. “You told me you would build me the house once you took over from your father. Do you think we can get married without a house?”

  “We have this place.” He gestured vaguely at their penthouse apartment, ultra modern, sterile, angular. It was Delia’s mission to be consistently on the cutting edge of modern design, which translated into new furniture every season. Very uncomfortable furniture. Hudson’s favorite recliner had been relegated to the spare bedroom within minutes of them moving in together.

  Delia made a dismissive wave at the expansive living room with a 360-degree view of Heartswell Harbour. He could see the Lighthouse on the wharf, and he smiled at the memory of a shared eclair. Delia would never eat an eclair in public.

  “Oh, come on, darling,” she crooned, launching into yet another metamorphosis. He called this one the Tender Lover. He used to like it, when he thought this was who she really was. Soft, warm, eager to spend time with him. It never lasted long any more. “You know all I need is a little attention. And a husband who owns his own legal firm.”

  She blinked at him prettily.

  She was very pretty.

  She laced her arms around his shoulders and kissed him delicately. Delia didn’t like kissing, since it smeared her lipstick. He had given up trying to kiss her back the way he wanted to when they first got together, and he realized sadly that now he no longer wanted to at all.

  His phone vibrated on the counter and he untangled her arms from his neck as he picked it up. It was Robin.

  He smiled.

  “Hello,” he said. “I was hoping this was Izzy calling to ask for another eclair date.”

  Delia’s eyes narrowed.

  “Hang on a minute.” He covered the phone with his hand and turned to Delia. “I have to take this, it’s the designer dad hired.”

  “So, you’re choosing curtain patterns now?” Delia snipped. “Maybe he’ll have you scrubbing the bathroom next?”

  She grabbed her purse and flipped her hair as she stomped toward the door.

  “I won’t wait forever, Hudson.”

  She paused, and a momentary silence stretched between them. Her face hardened as he remained silent. She grabbed her sparkling dog purse and Hudson cringed as he heard Dotty make a little squeak from the depths of the purse as she slung the ridiculous bag over her shoulder. Delia slammed the door behind her, echoing in the sterile space of the apartment.

  “Is this a bad time?” Robin asked.

  “No, this is perfect.” He forced his voice to rise above his constricted throat. He couldn’t keep living like this, with a woman who made him feel like a misbehaving child.

  “Auntie needs a man.”

  “Sounds like the title to a country song. Throw in a truck and a hound dog and you might just have a top 40 hit.”

  “I’ve tried getting her to play bridge, to volunteer at the library and to knit baby sweaters for preemies at the hospital.” Robin sounded desperate. “She does all those things and still shows up at my door at 8am with riveting stories of Heartswell gossip. I may have to kill her, or myself, or definitely Mrs. Crawley if this match-making idea of yours doesn’t work.”

  “Right. I think we should meet and make a plan before you indulge in any criminal activities.” The thought of meeting Robin for coffee eased the tension between his shoulders. Distracting his father with a little romantic intervention made it win-win.

  Hudson put on his tie after setting a time with Robin. He looked at himself in the mirror. He wanted his dad to give him some space, but even more he wanted his father to be happy. Mourning the loss of his wife for the past decade had closed him off from enjoying his life. And it was preventing Hudson from embracing his.

  What would his mother have thought of Delia? He dropped his gaze. She’d be disappointed. Evelyn Proxly had lived a life of purpose and independence. Hudson knew that was what she would want for him. His guilt over the accident colored so many of the decisions he had made ever since.

  He had been trying to please Delia for far too long, for all the wrong reasons. He was afraid of letting her down, but he was slowly realizing there would be no winning.

  Maybe setting his father up with Rosalee could be a new a beginning for all of them? And if it helped the lovely Robin, he was willing to go the extra mile.

  Chapter 9

  She probably shouldn’t have asked him to come with her, but she had too many errands to do and Izzy was only at daycare for a few hours, so it seemed like a reasonable compromise to double dip. Meet with Hudson to discuss the love life of Auntie and his father, go to the hardware store, and drop off the fabric swatches at Thompson Construction for the window treatments she had been hired to design, all before picking up Izzy at the end of the day. And if she was being honest, she just enjoyed his company.

  “We can talk while I drive.” She brushed a few cold French fries off the seat just as Hudson folded himself into her car. There were greasy little fingerprints on the window, and the car smelled like spilled coffee and wet sneakers. “Sorry about the mess.”

  He grinned at her, reaching under his feet and retrieving a plastic doll that looked like it had been through the wars.

  “Where are we going?” he asked, tossing the doll onto the back seat.

  “I have to drop something off at my other job,” she said, speaking over her shoulder as she reversed out of the parking lot. “And I need to run into the hardware store and pick up Izzy at two.”

  “You have another job?”

  “And groceries,” she added. “Pretty sure I’m out of milk.”

  “How can you have two jobs?” His legs were so long his knees pressed firmly against the dash. He fiddled with the seat and managed to slide it back a few inches to accommodate himself.

  “Another design job.” She glanced at him sideways with a quick smile. His head brushed the ceiling, making the top of his hair stand up with static. He looked like a surprised troll doll. “Woman does not live on one job at a time.”

  “Aren’t we paying you enough?” he asked.

  She laughed. “Of course not,” she said, then hesitated as he frowned, rubbing his hands on his knees. “Hudson, I’m a single mother running my own business. If I don’t juggle three or four jobs at once, my rent doesn’t get paid. It must be the same for you? How many legal clients do you balance at once?”

  He sighed. “My father does the balancing. I do the grunt work.” It was obvi
ously a sore spot with him. What was it that prevented him from pushing the envelope?

  “You happy with the grunting?” she asked, knowing that he had probably agreed to come with her as much to put their sneaky match-making plan in motion as to get out of the office. Even in the short time she had spent at Proxly and Son she had come to realize that Hudson was bursting with untapped energy.

  “I think I’m still trying to prove myself,” he said thoughtfully. “To a man determined to continue to ask it of me. My father seems to think that my years in law school have qualified me to be a pencil pusher, Ms. Brookes. It’s perfectly fine.” He smiled when he said it, but it didn’t make it all the way to his eyes. And he had such nice eyes.

  “It’s not, but if that’s how you want to play it...” She shouldn’t push him. She didn’t know him, and he was the boss’ son and she just needed to keep this job and make it amazing. To do that, she needed to find a way to entertain Auntie that didn’t involve daily visits to the laundry room. She didn’t need to play counsellor to some spoiled rich boy whose truck cost more than she would earn this year.

  He looked at her, and this time his eyes did smile at her.

  She fought the urge to touch him. He looked very touchable.

  “A level, drop cloths, brushes and paint. A ceiling roller.” She retreated behind her list, reciting the items from memory. “I’m so glad Mrs. Davies agreed to my color suggestions.”

  “Mrs. Davies has very good taste,” he said, as she pulled the car into the parking lot of the Home Hardware. “I’ve been trying to get her to go out with me for years, but she keeps dodging our destiny. Probably a wise decision on her part. She probably has a secret lover on the side, the minx.”

  Robin laughed. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had made her laugh.

  She parked the car and he looked at her with sea blue eyes sparkling with good humor. His blond hair curled slightly over his ears, like he needed a haircut but was having too much fun to take the time to get one.

  She got out of the car before she embarrassed herself by running her hands through his hair. What was wrong with her? She saw plenty of men at her jobs, but she never had this kind of reaction, certainly not since Izzy was born. She walked briskly ahead of him toward the hardware store.

  “What about you, Ms. Brookes the interior designer?” he said, surprising her by reaching the door first and holding it open for her. “Do you have a secret lover on the side?” He waggled his eyebrows at her as she slipped past him into the store.

  “Several,” she said. “Comes with the territory. Single mothers who run their own businesses have so much free time we need a running list of lovers to fill all our downtime. And single men find Auntie charming.”

  That shut him up, she grinned. For a moment.

  “Is Neil the florist on that list?” He asked casually, but she caught something in his eye that hinted at more than casual interest. Was he flirting with her?

  “Neil is gay.” She smiled at the look of surprise and the laugh that burst out of him.

  “I’ve never been good at reading that,” he said. “Some people can just tell, but I never can. I just see Neil, the flower guy. You two seem so close. I assumed...”

  “He’s Izzy’s godfather.” She headed toward the paint supplies at the back of the store. “We’ve been friends forever. He’s been trying to encourage me to hook up with someone for the past few years, but we seem to enjoy commiserating with each other on our singlehood so much I figure we’ll just be spinsters forever, eventually move in together and just be weird old people surrounded by plants and paint cans.”

  “Sounds like you have a life plan all figured out.”

  “Yeah, that’s me all right,” she laughed. “Definitely not flying by the seat of my pants every minute of every day, forever and ever amen.”

  “Your pants seem to fit you very well,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender as she spun around to face him with her mouth open. “Just sayin’. I just meant you seem very well put together.”

  She snorted at him, not sure if she should be offended or delighted. It had been a long time since anyone had noticed her pants. He was, definitely, flirting.

  “I mean,” he seemed genuinely blustered, and it made his smile even more adorable. “Your life. You have it all together, I mean... your business and your daughter. You’re doing really well, you know?”

  “Thanks.”

  “Hey, I’m still standing in my father’s shadow over here, you know what I’m saying?”

  “It’s not a bad shadow to be in.” She ran her eyes over his designer jeans and leather shoes. “Seems to me that the only questionable thing in your life plan is your misguided love affair with Mrs. Davies.”

  He blinked at her, then laughed, shaking his head and chuckling as they reached the paint aisle. She mentally pinched herself to dislodge the silent urge she had to stare at him and watch the emotions flow across his face.

  Drop cloth.

  Paint.

  Spinsterhood.

  Just stick to the list, she told herself. Stick to the list.

  “I WAS BORN FOR THIS,” Hudson declared as they continued making their way through Robin’s to-do list. “It’s the magic, Robin. The. Magic.”

  She giggled. He was impossible to argue with.

  She was momentarily distracted by a worrisome growling coming from somewhere under the hood. She gripped the steering wheel firmly, suddenly realizing how awkward a break down would be in the company of the chipper Mr. Proxly, Junior.

  “I’m just sayin’. I’m like the Love Whisperer,” he said. “Your car is making an interesting sound.”

  “Kind of like there’s a racoon chewing on important hoses in the undercarriage,” she said. “I know. It’s a thing.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good thing.” The foreign growling sound suddenly grew into a roar, followed by a shudder and the sound of screeching metal. “I think your muffler just fell off.”

  Robin pulled over to the side of the road. They were on a stretch of old highway leading out to the construction zone where Thompson Construction were putting up their condos. She got out of the car, squinting to see the construction rising several miles away on the horizon. She dropped to her knees and peered under the car.

  “Yup.” She sat back on her heels as Hudson joined her. He crouched down and looked under the vehicle.

  “Definitely not a raccoon.”

  Robin leaned her head against the side of the car and groaned. “I did not need this today.”

  Hudson stood and looked back down the road the way they had come. There was no traffic in either direction.

  “I’ll call a cab.” She reached back into the car for her cell. “I’m really sorry. We’ll get back to town and then I’ll deal with this.” She waved her hand at the broken-down vehicle, stepping away from it as smoke gently rolled from the undercarriage.

  Hudson pulled out his cell and spoke with authority into the device before she could say anything. He gave their location and his driver’s licence information, hanging up as she stared at him. For a man living in the shadow of his father he certainly seemed to have a take-charge attitude.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as he slipped the phone back into his pocket.

  “Car service,” he shrugged. “Courtesy of Proxly and Son. They’ll be here in fifteen minutes with a replacement vehicle and a tow truck.”

  “Hudson, I can’t afford—” He waved her to silence.

  “Are you an employee of Proxly and Son?” he asked.

  “I suppose so...”

  “And are you on company business, as an employee of Proxly and Son?”

  “No,” she said, waving in the direction of the Thompson work site.

  “Work with me here, woman. The answer is yes, you are,” he said. “You and I are conducting a business meeting to discuss your current working plans and material needs in order to be a successful member of the Proxly team.”

&n
bsp; He beamed at her like he’d just discovered a new use for paper.

  She blinked at him.

  Underneath the car, the muffler made one final scraping complaint before falling onto the pavement.

  “This is embarrassing,” she said.

  “You’re not used to getting help, are you?”

  She shuffled her feet. “I’m also not used to personal questions from strangers while stranded on the side of the road.”

  “I’m not a stranger, we’re practically... in laws,” he smiled, drawing a smiley face in the dust on her window.

  “Your dad and my great aunt... I don’t think that qualifies as in-laws.”

  “And it’s not a personal question, it’s just an observation from a disinterested party.”

  “How flattering.”

  He looked at her in a way that was the complete opposite of disinterested. She blushed and got her purse out of the car, glancing at the cans of paint and supplies on the back seat. She had to get back to town in time to pick up Izzy. She had to figure out how to pay to fix the now defunct vehicle that was decomposing in front of her very eyes. She wanted to cry, for no reason and all the reasons. This funny, kind, and completely sexy man was helping her out in a moment of need and all she could think about was how nice it would be to just toss it all and kiss him.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid. She kicked her toes against the tire again and again, squeezing her eyes shut and daring herself to let one single tear fall.

  She startled as he placed his hand on her shoulder and turned her gently toward him.

  “I don’t actually want to be your in-law,” he said softly. “That would be really weird.”

  She snorted, choking on a sob that turned into a laugh and saved her from blubbering onto his perfect polo shirt. He smelled like cedar and mint.

  His hand moved to the nape of her neck, drawing her toward him. She leaned into him, the warmth of his hand sending fireworks down her spine as her mind spun wildly with objections. She lifted her head, their lips almost touching. It would be so easy. So easy to just fall into this warmth and comfort, so easy to just let it happen.