Daisy’s brows dipped as she watched him, as if questioning the honesty of his response. “Okay.”
He fiddled with her hair. “Things okay with you?”
“You mean with my mother.”
“Yeah. With … with your mother. Are things settling down for you?”
She quirked her head and unfolded her arms from her body. “What are you doing, Jake?”
“I don’t understand.”
“You know, I thought your sudden freeze out might have something to do with the fact that you’ll be leaving here soon. I mean, we haven’t exactly talked about that, but you seemed to get antsy the other night, so I figured you were thinking about it.”
He reached out to her. “Daisy …”
She shook her head. “But the more I thought about it, the more I realized something: Every time my mother’s name comes up, you get this cold look in your eye. It’s like you, I don’t know, don’t like her or something.” She paused, searching his face. “Do you have something against my mother, Jake?”
He eyed her, slayed by the look of distrust in her face. It knifed him in the gut. But telling Daisy how he felt would mean exposing something less-than-complimentary about her mother. Maggie had warned him, but he hadn’t listened. Now he had no way to escape, except to lie.
Jake pulled her into a hug, despite her stilted response. “I’m sorry, Daisy. I’ve just been so preoccupied with everything. I didn’t mean to make you or your mother feel unimportant.”
“She wants to see you. Will you come today?”
His mind scurried for an answer. “Hm. Not today, but soon.”
She pointed at him. “There. That face you’re giving me.” She wagged her head, her eyes wary, narrowed. “You’re being evasive. Wish I knew why.”
Jake pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. He needed to confront this, but not now. Deflect, deflect. “Now you’re imagining things.”
She broke away from him. “Please.” Daisy crossed her arms. “Are you wealthy, Jake? Like … really wealthy?”
He sputtered. “Does it matter?”
“You mean, would I like you more? No.”
“That’s not what I meant. It’s just …” He raked a hand through his hair. He was falling hard for her and didn’t give a rat’s behind if she knew the balance in his bank account. But it changed things. Money always changed things. His father had warned him about that when he was a kid. That’s why his father made him read The Millionaire Next Door and other books like it. So he wouldn’t get caught up in image or impressing people. He’d learned this the hard way about the women who came after him once they sensed his wealth.
Admittedly, he had not once thought of any of those women the way he thought about Daisy—as the one. That realization startled him. He swallowed, his pride bearing down on him. She deserved more. He knew that. But did he have it to give her?
Daisy stepped quickly across the room, opened the front door, and stopped. “Jake, it was fun while it lasted.”
“Daisy, don’t.”
“My mother has a gift for you, but it’s up to you whether you care to retrieve it.” She sighed. “You know where to find us.” On the way out, she shut the door hard and jogged back to her mother’s home.
Eleven
Daisy showed her mother’s home health nurse around the house before stepping outside for a much-needed run on the beach. She half-wished the morning had dawned gray, as so many beach days did around this area. The lack of color would further feed her empty heart and assist in the wallowing she had been doing over the past twenty-four hours. Jake had not shown up. He texted once, apologizing. Duty called and all that—something about installing countertops. She had shrugged off his message, unwilling to let him back into the deepest places of her mind and soul.
The tide was out, and as she took to the sand, which seemed to stretch for miles, she shucked her hoodie and tied it around her waist. She started off fast, but slowed her pace once, realizing the fuel of discontent behind her speed. A sea lion broke the surface of the water, the curiosity in its shiny face lightening her mood some, forcing her to reflect.
Her life was good. Her mother had survived a difficult situation and health issue. She loved her work. Had money in the bank to fall back on, if she needed it. And she had discovered the joy and self-sufficiency of running. A grin found her. Short people didn’t run. Her high school counselor had given her that bit of unwelcome advice when she was searching for a sport. Until senior year, she had believed it—that’s when she noticed Haley Ross’s thigh gap and realized that Haley was no taller than her. Daisy started running that afternoon. Take that, haters.
Daisy’s phone buzzed in her pocket, but she dared not look at it. The stress of the past couple of days was starting to leave her and she didn’t want anything to mess that up. In front of her, two children, a boy and a girl, worked on a sandcastle. The girl’s hands and legs were caked with wet sand. Her tongue was sticking out of her mouth, caught between her teeth as she worked furiously on the tall and unwieldy structure before the tide would come in and pull it out to see. The boy’s limbs were equally coated in sand as he hauled a bucket full of water from the shore. Daisy slowed as she passed them, watching the boy dump the water into a long and winding moat.
If only relationships could be as simple as building a sandcastle at the beach. Then again, as she reminded Jake, they couldn’t even agree on proper sandcastle building when they were kids.
Daisy picked up her pace, once again stuffing away thoughts of her battered heart. Maybe the time apart from Jake was for the best. Her face heated thinking of how quickly their passion had ignited. If her mother’s nurse hadn’t called the other night, Daisy could very well have fallen into a place with Jake that would be much harder to disengage from, let alone forget.
She shook her head. The past month was not real life. Though it might not look like it from all the work being done on the Morelli house, Jake had been on vacation. He had been away from the stress of his work—and the pending fines and litigation—and lolling on the beach in between sprucing up the kitchen and now the master bath. How could she have expected him to make something permanent out of a temporary situation? Not that she was giving him a pass. Daisy was choosing to be a realist and to see things the way they really were. It was the only way to protect herself.
A tear rolled out of her eye, surprising her. She wicked it away with a swipe of her hand. Daisy knew better than this. He’d broken her heart when they were kids, and now that she had let her guard down, he was on his way to breaking it again. Daisy picked up the pace determined not to let that happen again. She wouldn’t.
“Why hasn’t Jake come to see me? Did you tell him I have a gift for him?”
Daisy turned away from her mother before she answered. Otherwise her mom might have seen something in Daisy’s face that she didn’t care to share. “I’ve told him, Momma. Be patient. He is remodeling their kitchen and bathroom and also doing some work for his business from home.” She paused, not sure if she should be making promises when it came to Jake. “I’m sure he will stop by when he can.”
Her mother leaned toward the window. “He’s so tall.”
“Hmm?”
“There,” she said, pointing out the window. “Oh good. It looks like he’s coming over here right now.”
Hesitantly, Daisy peered out the window to see Jake stalking across the sand toward her front porch. Reflexively, she smoothed her hair with one hand and licked her lips, which she had left lipstick free today.
“Answer the door,” her mother said.
She frowned. He hadn’t even knocked and no way would she let him think her overanxious about seeing him. She would not explain that to her mother either. Would open her up to too many questions …
“Hurry!” her mother said.
Daisy sighed. She opened the door to find Jake standing on the stoop, fist raised as if readying himself to knock.
“Hello,” he said.
He raised a brow. “Can I come in?”
Silently, she stepped back to let him in.
Her mother squealed, obviously unaware of the standoff. “Jake Morelli! Come here and let me look at you.”
“Hello, Mrs. Mcafee.”
“Oh stop that. I’m Wren, but you know that already.”
“How are you feeling?”
Wren wiggled in her spot on the couch, pulling herself out of a slouching position. She laid her folded hands in her lap. “I am feeling much better. Oh Jake. I will forever be in debt to your sister Grace and that handsome husband of hers—what is his name again?”
“It’s Chase,” Jake said.
Wren laughed and clapped her hands. “That’s right. Their names rhyme. I had forgotten that.”
After the laughter died away, an uncomfortable silence fell on the room. Daisy was still standing awkwardly near Jake. “Momma, you said something about a gift you had? For Jake?”
“That’s right. Where did I leave it? Let me think.” Her mother frowned and a deep wedge formed between her eyes. “Daisy, would you go upstairs and look in my bureau? I think you’ll find it there. It’s a frame, wrapped in butcher paper.”
Daisy hurried away, finding it quickly. She jogged down the stairs and sat on the couch beside her, holding up the package. “Is this what you meant?”
Her mother’s face beamed, nodding and taking it from her hands. She turned to Jake. “This is for you.”
He cast a questioning look at Daisy, but all she could do was turn up her palms and shrug. Jake tore open the paper. His mouth fell open and his eyes darkened by a dip of his brows. He looked up. “Where … where did you get this?”
“Your father gave it to me. Well, he asked me to frame it for you. He was so proud of you, Jake. Sadly, he died before I was able to have it done.”
Daisy stretched forward. “What is it?”
Jake lifted his chin, his expression stricken. “It’s the first plan I created when I was learning CAD.”
“CAD?”
“Computer-aided drafting. It’s a program for architects and designers.” He turned to Wren, his expression pained, his voice uncharacteristically hushed. “What else were you doing for my father?”
“What do you mean, son?”
Jake held the framed drawing in one hand, as his other hand scraped through his head of dark hair. He pivoted, no shred of a smile on his face.
Slowly, Daisy stood, one hand touching her mother’s shoulder lightly. “Jake? What’s going on?”
He turned his gaze on her, his jaw set. “Maybe Wren should answer that question, once and for all.”
Wren frowned. “I’m confused, dear.”
Jake darted a glance at Wren and sighed. “My mother was very sick during the past couple of years of her life. I’m not proud of the fact that my siblings and I weren’t around the way we should have been back then.”
Wren nodded, her eyes dewy, downcast at the mention of Jake’s mother. Daisy knew how close they were, that they were great friends who shared a love of pie, lavender, and swapping stories about their children.
He inhaled sharply, as if gathering strength, then Jake zeroed in on her mother. “But I have to ask you this question, Wren. Were you … and my father … having an affair?”
Daisy gasped. “Jake!”
He swiveled his gaze to Daisy, his eyes pleading, but all she could do was shake her head at him. How dare he?
Wren elicited a high-pitched sigh. “No, dear. Absolutely not.” She cupped both of her hands over her mouth, as if in a prayer position.
Daisy moved in front of her mother, shielding her. “Get out of here, Jake.”
He reached for her, but she pulled away from him. “I’m sorry. But I have to know,” he whispered, holding up the framed picture. “And from this, I think I do.”
Wren attempted to push Daisy aside. “Stop it! The both of you, stop it right now.”
Daisy hugged her body and sat. “Why didn’t you say anything about this to me the past few weeks, Jake? Why wait until my poor mother is home recovering to unload your accusation?”
Pain crossed his features. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Too late,” she spat. She fought off the tears that flooded her sinuses and pooled around her eyes.
“Oh dear, oh dear.” Wren rubbed her daughter’s back. “Don’t cry, honey. Jake, sit down.”
Jake hesitated, but lowered himself into a chair and leaned forward, his elbows digging into his thighs. “I’m sorry the way this has come about, Wren. But I saw you and my father once. Remember?”
Wren scrunched her face, her lips pursed. Daisy glanced back at her, unsure of who to believe. Maybe her mother was too sick to remember what had happened so long ago. Then again, except for occasional forgetfulness and lack of energy, she was pretty much the same mom Daisy had left to travel the world.
“I’m sorry, but no,” Wren said. “I don’t know why you would have thought such a terrible thing about your father.”
Daisy cut in. “And about you, too, Mom!”
Jake spoke softly now. “I had come home to check on my mother. She was, well, less than healthy.” He shook his head. “I had no idea that her mind had deteriorated to such an extent. I stayed the night, but awoke in the middle of it, unable to sleep. And so I came out to the deck—”
Wren gasped. “And you saw us.”
Daisy swiveled sharply. “Mom? Wait. Is this true?”
Wren shook her head. “We were only smoking!”
Jake frowned. “What?”
“Your father liked to smoke cigars, as did I, but your mother hated the smell of them. Always said she wouldn’t kiss him if he smoked them. So he didn’t. Until … well, until she didn’t notice anymore.” Wren sighed, a slightly guilty smile on her face. “I had ordered a big box of Cubans and your father would come over and smoke them with me about once per week. Honey, it was purely innocent.”
Jake leaned his forehead into his palm, clearly shocked by this news. If Daisy weren’t so angry with him, she might have found this hilarious. But right now, she wanted to wring his neck for jumping to conclusions. Of all the stupid ideas to obsess over. All this time he thought that her father and his mother had been lovers? No wonder he had made himself invisible once her mother had come home!
“I don’t know what to say.” Jake’s head hung, but he was peering up at her, noticeably humbled. Daisy almost felt sorry for him … almost.
“There’s more, dear,” Wren said. She reached out to her daughter, as if preparing her for what she was about to say. “Jake, your father was a very generous man. And he, well, he was helping me. Financially.”
Daisy shot up. “What?”
“Don’t be angry with him, Daisy. Please. I couldn’t bear it.”
“But Daddy left me a trust fund. How could he do that, if you were—”
“Broke?”
Daisy put a hand to her chest as if her airways had narrowed. She could barely breathe.
Wren continued. “Your father and I set up that trust fund for you when you were little. It was written so that you could have it by your twenty-first birthday, no matter where he and I were. It just happened that he died before then.”
“But why are you so broke?”
Her mother sighed. “We made an investment with great hope, but unfortunately, it didn’t take off like we thought and we lost most of our savings.” She turned to Jake, her voice breaking. “Your father knew about it, and he made sure I was taken care of. He was a good man.”
The room fell silent, as if all three of them had become caught up in their own private thoughts. Jake was the first to break the silence.
“I’m so sorry for what I accused you of, Wren.” He paused. “Can you forgive me?”
Wren smiled. “Of course, I can. Life is too short to hold grudges.” She patted his knee. “I’ve learned that.”
Jake reached for her hand. “Thank you.” He le
t her hand go and held up the framed picture of his drawing. “And thank you for this. You’ll never know how much it means to me.”
“You’re very welcome.”
Jake turned to Daisy. “Talk to me?”
She followed him outside, anger boiling beneath the surface. They didn’t go to his house, but out onto the sand, beneath the dark expanse of sky. The ocean’s tumult provided an appropriate backdrop for Daisy’s mood and she spun on him. “What was I to you, Jake? Just some distraction?”
“No. You were a surprise to me, Daisy.”
“Why? Because on the way to vilifying my mother, you thought you’d play games with her daughter’s heart and it worked?”
He shook his head, imploring her with an unwavering gaze. “I’m not that guy.”
She pointed up at him, barely able to keep the shake out of her voice. “You’re exactly that guy. I thought I’d learned my lesson with you, but I guess I’m not that smart. You haven’t changed a bit.”
Jake stared at her, unmoving, that framed picture still under his arm. “We’re not kids anymore.”
“Then why do you keep secrets like a teenager? You could have told me what you thought about our parents.”
“Your mother kept a secret too.”
“Don’t blame my mother.” She sounded weary and sad. “I wish I had known how difficult it was for her. I wouldn’t have been traveling the world all this time had I known.”
“And that’s exactly why she never told you. I admire her.”
She leveled a gaze at him. “What about your secret gifts to Maggie? Has this taught you anything at all about the danger of keeping some things buried?”
“I’m not ready to change my stance on that.”
“Even though your sister thinks her ex has been sending her money?”
Jake recoiled. “What? How do you know that?”
Daisy stared at him, openmouthed. What had he missed? “She pretty much said so on the call the other night. I guess you weren’t listening.”
Jake’s shoulders clenched visibly. He puffed out his cheeks and blew out a long, slow breath, then leveled a gaze at her. “Maybe you’re right about me, Daisy. Because, contrary to what you think, you are very smart. But me?” He shook his head, a sad tilt to his mouth. “I’ve still got a lot to learn.”
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