Love by Design: A Heartswell Harbour Romance

by Mavis Williams

  “I do.” It made him sad, even though he knew he had been wise to establish the financial parameters of their relationship back in the early days when he had assumed they’d be together forever. If his father hadn’t been so persistent about it, he would have laughed off the possibility of Delia being a gold digger. He wasn’t sure why he hesitated now to enforce that agreement and remove her from his condo. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and he hoped she would choose to move out without him asking. “It may seem juvenile, but I’m just giving her time to do the right thing.”

  Robin smiled at him and he felt the warm tingle he experienced every time she looked in his eyes. He had never had a reaction like this with a woman before. Was it the easy comfort of their platonic living arrangement of the past week, or was it the unicorn blanket? Robin was entirely adorable in the unicorn blanket.

  “It seems very Hudson,” she said. “You may be your father’s son, but you are your own man, Hudson Proxly.”

  His breath caught in his throat and he didn’t know what to say. He always knew what to say. He shrugged and picked up the empty pizza box, getting to his feet and stepping over Robin’s long legs.

  She brushed behind him in the tiny kitchen, resting her hand lightly on his shoulder as she squeezed past to put her wine glass in the sink. He could feel the warmth of her beside him, and the glow of her kind words in his ears.

  “Thank you, Robin,” he said. “For everything.”

  She leaned against the counter, her arms crossed on her chest. Her hair softly framed her face, open and smiling with no makeup and no artifice. Simple open tender kindness.

  “I have never met a woman like you.” He moved to stand in front of her.

  “I’m pretty boring,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “Just an artsy-fartsy designer trying to get by.”

  “You—” He reached up impulsively and ran his finger down her jawline to her chin. She shivered. “—are anything but boring.”

  She lifted her chin, her eyes bright and penetrating as they gazed into his. Her eyes were the same blue as her daughter’s. Clear and sparkling like the sea on a clear day.

  She leaned into him and kissed him.

  Her lips were warm and soft. His heart raced as he pulled back, startled by her gesture.

  “Oh,” he said.

  “Oh my,” she whispered.

  They looked at each other.

  Hudson put his hands on the sides of her face and drew her to him. He kissed her deeply, savouring the heat flowing between them and revelling in her ready willingness to respond. She pressed herself against him and he shuddered beneath her touch.

  “Mummaaa?” They froze, lips barely touching, eyes locked together.

  “Mummaaaa? I’se firsty.” Izzy’s sleepy voice slid between them and Robin gently pushed Hudson away with her hands on his chest.

  “Coming, Iz.” She looked at Hudson.

  He ran a glass of water from the tap. They both shuffled down the hall to Robin’s bedroom, the little girl sitting up in her mother’s bed with her hair like dandelion seeds in a halo surrounding her head. Robin sat on the side of the bed and gave her a drink.

  Izzy blinked sleepily. “Hudson not in bed? Is late, sleepy time,” she murmured as Robin tucked her in again.

  Robin rose to her feet and put her hand on Hudson’s chest as he stood in the doorway.

  “Goodnight, Hudson.” she smiled. “Is sleepy time.”

  He stepped back as she quietly shut the door.

  His heart still racing, he wouldn’t find sleepy time for a quite some time yet.

  Chapter 22

  “Auntie, enough.” Robin stuffed grapes into the plastic shopping bag like she intended to make wine. “I am not interested. Hudson is just a friend. Please, lets just not talk about this anymore.”

  Izzy swung her feet in the child seat of the grocery cart as Auntie navigated the fruit and vegetable aisles. Robin slammed the grapes into the back of the cart, turning toward the squash with a vengeance. Was it possible that Auntie could tell she had kissed him two nights ago? Was it that obvious that it was the only thing she could think about?

  “All I’m saying is that he is a charming young fellow, and since he is newly single, I just want you to have a chance at him before someone else scoops him up.” Auntie pouted. It was never sweet or endearing when Auntie pouted. It was like she was sucking lemons and Robin would be responsible for picking up the seeds.

  “I am not looking to have ‘a chance at’ anyone.” Robin squeezed a red pepper til it bulged alarmingly. “I am a single mother, Auntie. Emphasis on the single, double emphasis on the mother. Hudson can be scooped by anyone he wishes, it does not matter to me.”

  “Hudson sleeps in my bed,” Izzy said, not bothering to take her thumb out of her mouth. “He likes Bunny.”

  “The situation is just gift-wrapped for romance.” Auntie pretended to talk to the red pepper she carefully removed from Robin’s grasp.

  “You’re wheedling, Auntie. It’s most unbecoming.”

  “I’m not suggesting you take advantage of the poor man.” Auntie shook her head, turning the grocery cart toward the bakery. “I’m just saying... carpe diem.”

  “Oh God, you’re speaking Latin.” Robin tipped her head back and moaned. She hadn’t planned to buy cinnamon buns, but now she grabbed a package just for spite. “There will be no carpe of my diem. Move on, Auntie.”

  Auntie clasped both of Robin’s hands, and the cinnamon buns, in hers. She looked seriously into Robin’s eyes, like she was searching for a long-lost Latin translation that had eluded her for years.

  “My darling Robin, I have recently come to the conclusion that life will not wait for you to be ready to live it. The clock is ticking and—”

  “Auntie.” Robin cut her off before she began espousing on the nature of time. “Hudson is lovely. He is charming and fun, and I do enjoy his company. But he is a child. He’s a great buffoon of a boy. I don’t have room in my life for someone who doesn’t take life seriously.”

  Auntie pursed her lips as though she might begin to cry.

  “Well that’s just a tragedy, that’s what that is.” She released Robin’s hands and returned to her post driving the shopping cart. She pressed her face toward Izzy who smiled and reached out to grab at her glasses. “Your mommy is a silly girl, Isabella. And she can’t even see it.”

  “Mommy is silly.” Izzy agreed, twirling her hair with her free hand.

  “Mommy is perfectly fine, thank you very much.” Robin stomped off without waiting for Auntie to finish deconstructing her life for her three-year-old daughter.

  She walked briskly up an aisle, grabbing random items as she moved along, blindly tucking coffee and pickles under her arm.

  She knew Auntie meant well, but it was absolutely maddening. Of course, she found Hudson attractive. Of course, she felt drawn to him, living in her tiny home and sharing breakfast and a smile every morning. It was eroding her defences enough without Auntie trying to enlist Izzy in the battle to find her a mate. She snorted, shoving the package of coffee back on a shelf beside the peanut butter.

  I don’t need another child to take care of. And he is just a giant child, with his funny this and funny that and oh, lets have banana splits after Izzy goes to bed...

  She rubbed her head, her temples throbbing as they had been all morning.

  They’d had banana splits after Izzy went to bed. With fudge sauce and peanuts and whipped cream. He had bought all the ingredients and secreted them in the kitchen, whipping together the delectable treat at a time when she was usually heading to bed.

  They’d watched a movie. They’d laughed and talked until after midnight, and then she had tossed and turned in bed for hours, blaming the sugar blasting through her system rather than the look he gave her when he said goodnight.

  She wasn’t used to a man looking at her like that.

  “He’s a goofball,” she said out loud, grabbing a jar of jam and then putting it back. �
�And, he just broke up with an epic monster of a woman. Who wants that kind of train wreck to land on their doorstep?”

  The man behind her shook his head as he reached for the yogurt.

  “I sure don’t,” he said, smirking at her and moving on.

  “And I’m talking to myself in the dairy aisle,” she muttered, turning to look for Auntie. This whole thing was getting out of hand.

  Chapter 23

  When the cops said he had to have someone come pick him up, his first thought was to call Robin. He knew immediately that was a bad idea. He’d gotten himself into this, and God knows Robin was already doing enough to take care of him.

  He called Auntie instead.

  “I just don’t understand why they wouldn’t let you go, you’re obviously innocent. I mean honestly, you’re Bernard Proxly’s son. What on earth do they think you’re going to do? Rob a bank?”

  Rosalee had arrived at the police station in a mint green twin set with a kerchief over her silver hair, a flask of coffee in one hand and a tuna salad sandwich in the other. Apparently, she thought Hudson was being starved as well as detained.

  “And good heavens, Hudson. Your eye. It’s shocking.”

  Hudson gently probed his swollen eye with his finger. He hadn’t had a black eye since... ever. He had never been punched in the face, until today. And all in the quest for clean underwear.

  “I broke into a condo, Auntie. It doesn’t seem to matter that it’s mine,” he said. “They needed someone to vouch for me, I suppose. They would only let me go if someone would come get me. So now I have to behave myself or they’ll come arrest you.”

  Her eyes flew open and she patted her kerchief nervously.

  “They’ll have to catch me first,” she said.

  Hudson choked on his tuna sandwich, which was entirely delicious.

  They sat in the waiting area of the precinct on the hard bench where hardened criminals thought hard thoughts. Hudson felt more like a fool than a criminal.

  “I knew the window to the bedroom would be open,” he explained. “And I knew I could hop onto the balcony from the fire escape because last summer we had a tree branch lodged in the drain-pipe above the balcony and I got it out by jumping from the fire escape to—”

  “Hudson, honestly,” Auntie huffed. “That’s what building superintendents are for, silly man. And why on earth didn’t you just talk to this young woman of yours and arrange a time to get into the condo?”

  “She changed the locks and won’t answer my calls,” he said. “I ran out of underwear three days ago.”

  Auntie shuddered and shifted a few inches away from him on the bench.

  “So, you broke in,” she said.

  “I felt it was necessary. I thought I could just dash in, grab some of my things and be gone before she got home.”

  “But...?” Auntie looked at him thoughtfully. She was quite pretty with her rosy cheeks and bright eyes. She had arrived without question to endorse him with a get out of jail free card, and now she was willing to listen to his sad stupid story.

  “I did not anticipate that she would have...” he paused. “She seems to have...”

  “She has a new boyfriend?” Auntie asked gently, putting her hand softly on his arm.

  “Yeah,” Hudson said. “A big guy, too. Big, and mean.”

  “Well, you did arrive unexpectedly through a window,” Auntie said reasonably. “I would guess you’re lucky to get away with just a black eye.”

  “I was pretty amazing, actually, Auntie,” he smiled. “I slid open the window and I crawled in, but the bedroom was kind of dim because the curtains were closed.”

  She leaned forward, listening.

  “I pulled open the curtains and then this giant man came through the bedroom door—”

  “And then he punched you in the face? Amazing.” Her eyes twinkled.

  “Well... yeah.” Hudson shrugged.

  “And then she called the police.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “They were really good about it though, after.”

  After being handcuffed and hauled down to the cruiser and taken to the precinct. He was at least able to contact the condo landlord and prove that it was his name beside Delia’s on the deed.

  “So, it doesn’t look like I can get her moved out, because the condo is in both names,” he said. “But we have this pre-nup, so I could push the issue and probably win—”

  “You don’t want to upset her by making her move,” Auntie said.

  He looked at her.

  “Yeah, that’s exactly it.” He was suddenly very glad he had called her, and not just because of her phenomenal sandwich making skills.

  “Hudson, dear.” Auntie turned and took both his hands in hers. She smiled at him like he was a cute puppy that had just chewed a slipper. “A woman like Delia will land on her feet every time. You have to do right by her, because you were in a long-term relationship, and I understand there are hurt feelings on both sides.”

  Hudson nodded. As unreasonable as Delia’s expectations had been, he had allowed her to harbour them for a long time.

  “You will need to come to an agreement, and it will probably cost you something more than just your pride.” She smiled. “But you do not need to bend over and let her have her way with you.”

  Hudson gasped.

  “Auntie!” He burst into a laugh as she giggled at him.

  “I wasn’t born yesterday, young man,” she tittered. “She needs to move out of your condo and take her large and violent new man with her. And you need to insist that she do that. No more sneaking around and breaking in and tiptoeing around your life.”

  He looked at her. She was so very right.

  “And you need to talk to your father, also,” she said. “Don’t think I don’t notice how hard you work and how he still tries to wrap you in cotton every time you push for more independence.”

  “You’re a force to be reckoned with, aren’t you Great Aunt Rosalee?” he said.

  “And.” She wagged a finger in his face. “We are buying you new underwear on the way home.”

  Chapter 24

  Rosalee stepped onto the porch of her little house and froze, her front door key in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other. She looked around, turning her head carefully to the left and then to the right, then glancing again at the bouquet of flowers leaning against her door. She turned around in a full circle to scan the neighborhood.

  There was no one in sight. No missionaries or insurance salesmen. No postal delivery person. Not even a nosy neighbor.

  Absolutely no evidence explaining who might have left a basket of flowers on her front porch.

  She frowned, fighting the tiny flame of excitement that flickered in her chest. Someone had put flowers on her porch.

  Must be a mistaken address, she sighed.

  That had to be it. There was the lovely single lady three houses down who seemed to have a new beau every second weekend. And there was the young married couple across the road who regularly had huge arguments that sometimes resulted in the young woman throwing her husband’s clothes all over the yard, or late-night slamming doors and squealing tires. They always seemed to make up after, so she wondered if these flowers were an elaborate apology on behalf of the young man.

  She unlocked her door before stooping to gather up the basket in her arms. It was wrapped in lavender tissue paper, with pink ribbons, and she could see the sleeping heads of tulips pressed against the thin wrapping.

  In the kitchen, she placed the flowers lightly on the table before hefting her grocery bag onto the counter.

  “What do you think of that, Heathcliffe?” A giant cat appeared at her feet. Rosalee leaned against the counter and observed the flowers with what she hoped was detached curiosity. She would see who the card was addressed to and deliver the bouquet to its rightful owner.

  Heathcliffe purred up at her, more concerned about kibble than he was about flowers. He wailed at her, a single mournful note seeming
to come from deep within the heather of a barren moor.

  “You’re so dramatic,” she said, leaning over to scratch the cat’s broad back. Tufts of hair drifted around her feet as he arched his back against her legs.

  She unpacked the groceries, putting away tea and butter and rice crackers, arranging each boxed item to rest precisely beside its neighbor in the cupboard, edges lines up, labels facing out. She kept glancing back at the flowers, as if expecting them to disappear.

  “Chicken tonight, Heathy, or salmon?” She looked at the neatly arranged tins of cat food in the cupboard. Receiving no definitive answer from Heathcliffe, she chose a can and opened it carefully, tipping the entire contents into his dish on the floor. He purred like a wheezing set of bagpipes.

  There was a card attached to the wrapping of the flowers.

  She touched it gently, then walked away and put on the kettle. She carefully arranged several tea biscuits on a saucer and waited for the kettle to boil.

  “It’s probably that angry young couple,” she said, straining her teabag against the side of the cup. “I bet that young man has finally come to his senses and has realized what a gem he has in his young wife, and he’s bought her flowers to apologize for his unbecoming attitude.”

  She nodded, believing her own story more every moment.

  “And she will be so overcome by the gesture—” She looked out the window to the neighbor’s house across the road, “—that she will forgive him for that horrible fight they had last night, and she will agree that it is high time they started a family and they will live happily ever after, all because he thought enough to offer her flowers as a gesture of his love.”

  She sighed happily, sipping her tea with her eyes misting over.

  “Young love is so very beautiful, Heathcliffe,” she said. “When my Harold proposed to me, I swear I heard an angel chorus singing hallelujah.”

  She smiled, turning her gaze to the framed wedding photograph on the wall. Rosalee and Harold, smiling and young and invincible.