Christmas at the Cove

by Rachel Brimble

  “What?”

  Their gazes locked as Scott’s blood roared in his ears. “If you think she walked all over me last time, we’ve nothing else to say to each other. How could she have walked all over me when we were barely together more than a few days, huh? What happened after she left has nothing to do with her. Don’t you get that? It was me who hit bottom. It wasn’t her fault.”

  Nick’s eyes widened. “So you’re going back for more of the same?”

  “I have to know why she’s back.”

  “No, you don’t. You want to. What is it about this girl? Sure, she’s pretty but God, man, it’s like she’s got hold of your damn dick.”

  Frustration coursed through Scott on a vibrating wave. He had no clue what it was that burned like an inferno between him and Carrie Jameson. The only thing he was sure of was the same shock mixed with desire had gleamed in her gaze at the garage as it had when she took his hand and led him from The Coast Inn straight to her hotel room.

  Scott brushed past Nick. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s up to me to deal with, not you.” He pulled open the office door and waved. “After you.”

  “You’re going to see her right now, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine.” Nick raised his hands in surrender. “Do what you have to do. I’ll be at the bar when you need a drink. Something tells me that will be sooner rather than later.”

  Nick marched out the door, his feet banging down the iron steps and through the garage. Scott refused to allow his friend’s judgment to seep into his blood and make him resent Carrie when she’d done nothing wrong. She’d promised him nothing. He had to see her.

  Locking the door behind him, Scott hurried down the steps and through the garage. He drew together the two iron doors and padlocked them before pocketing the keys in his jeans. Taking a deep breath, he lifted the collar of his leather jacket and, with his head bent against the wind and rain, jogged toward town.

  The townspeople were out in their numbers as Christmas Day approached with a rapidity Scott couldn’t think about right then. Some faces etched with happiness, others with stress—there was no avoiding the holidays would soon be here and Scott was far from prepared. He passed the temporary ice rink that was set up in the town square every year.

  The sound of the kids’ laughter and their joyful expressions as they whizzed around the rink did nothing to appease Scott’s trepidation. It seemed a lifetime ago when he was carefree enough at Christmastime to spend it at the rink.

  Forcing his gaze ahead, he pounded the distance and, with each hundred yards, his adrenaline slowed and his mind leveled. The gold-and-bronze canopy of the Christie Hotel came into view. Slowing to a walk, he nodded to the doorman and passed through the revolving door into the hotel’s lobby. It was a fancy, old-fashioned place. Not necessarily to his taste, but that didn’t prevent the image of Carrie, dressed in a column of sapphire silk and killer heels, from filtering through his mind.

  Once again, his dick twitched awake and his blood heated. Even the knowledge she was married didn’t cool his physical need to make love to her again. Her hair, her eyes...those damn, sexy legs covered with sheer black stockings. Never before had a woman held him so quickly and so strongly in her snare. Thoughts of her with another man, and married, caused a lash of inexplicable pain in his chest—a pain so much worse than the surges of jealousy that had torn through him for months after she left whenever he imagined her with another man.

  He lifted his chin and shoved his thoughts into submission. He glanced around the hotel lobby and smiled wryly. Yep, the place suited her perfectly. Carrie had that whole Hollywood golden age thing going on. A woman with good curves in all the right places. Rita Hayworth, Jane Russell...He breathed deep and smiled. Real women.

  He approached the front desk. The stout, English butler–type manager wore the air of a king overseeing his subjects. He met Scott’s eyes with casual indifference. “Good afternoon, sir. May I help you?”

  Scott cleared his throat. “Good afternoon. I believe a Carrie Jameson is staying here. Could you please phone her room and ask her to meet me in the lobby?”

  “Your name, sir?”

  “Walker. Scott Walker.”

  “One moment, please.”

  The desk manager picked up the phone and Scott turned, his nerves jumping and his shoulders tense. He looked to his left at a group of suited businessman and grimaced. His idea of hell would be having to wake up each morning and get trussed up in a suit and tie to work behind a damn desk all day. He looked to his right...

  Carrie stood watching him. Her shoulders and chest rose as she took a deep breath and strode toward him. He pushed away from the desk. “Don’t worry. I found her.”

  “Sorry, sir?” The desk manager coughed behind him.

  “She’s here. No need to try her room.” Scott moved away from the desk, and he and Carrie came to a stop in the middle of the lobby. He stared, his gaze roaming over her hair to her face, lower to exquisite collarbones and smooth skin above breasts concealed beneath a red shirt—and, God help him, the revealed edge of a red satin bra.

  “You came.” Her words whispered from between scarlet-painted lips. “Thank you.”

  He met her eyes. “I’m sorry about Nick.”

  She smiled softly. “You know about that?”

  “He came to me straight afterward.” Unable to resist, he glanced at her hands clenched together in front of her. Her wedding band glinted. He met her eyes, his heart beating fast. “The man can be an ass, but he’s only trying to look out for me.”

  “I got that.” She broke eye contact and waved toward some seats to the side of them. “Shall we—”

  “Why are you here, Carrie?”

  A faint stain colored her cheeks. “Why don’t we sit down?” She glanced around. “I don’t want to do this standing up with everyone watching.”

  “Why does it matter?” He clenched his jaw. “Does your husband know you’ve come to Templeton? That you’re here now? With me?”

  Her color darkened and her gaze blazed with anger. “My husband has nothing to do with this. I’m sitting down. You can either join me or go. I’m not talking about this for everyone else’s entertainment.”

  Scott glared after her as she stormed away. He hesitated as his gut churned with indecision. Whatever she had to tell him couldn’t be good, but how the hell could he walk away without knowing what brought her back to Templeton? Not knowing would haunt him for the rest of his damn life.

  Cursing, he pulled back his shoulders and strode across the lobby to where she sat at a low table, smoothing her hands up and down the length of her denim-clad thighs. He slid into the seat opposite her, his gaze once again flitting to the shiny gold wedding band on her ring finger. God, he was grateful for the table between them. A table that acted as a boulder. A boulder he deemed necessary if his urge to touch another man’s wife was anything to go by.

  He met her eyes. “Okay, I’m listening.”

  Her gaze bored into his before she dropped her attention to her lap. Her hands were clamped so tightly together, her knuckles showed white. Scott shifted in his seat. No part of him was used to making women uncomfortable or fearful. He wasn’t a monster and he refused to let Carrie make him feel that way.

  He reached across the table and took her hand. She flinched and her head snapped up. Her dark brown eyes were wide with caution. “What?”

  “Whatever you have to tell me, just say it.”

  Time stood still.

  Dread seeped into his veins, making him want to lunge forward and wrap his arms around her—whether in a bid to comfort or silence her, he couldn’t be sure.

  Tears leaped into her eyes and her hand trembled in his grasp. “I had a baby, Scott. Your baby.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

 
CARRIE STARED AT Scott as his hand slipped from hers. He dropped his head forward, his gaze glued to the floor between his feet. Her heart pounded, drowning out the Christmas carols that played quietly on an endless loop throughout the hotel lobby. Bells jingled and faceless characters sang their rejoices, even as her life changed forever. Whatever happened next—whatever Scott said or did—their lives had altered.

  She pursed her lips and fought the need to tell him how amazing his daughter was, that she was sorry and should have come clean before but had chosen not to rather than upset Belle’s family life for a guy she barely knew. That she knew deep down he wouldn’t be ready for a baby, but now he was older...they were older, and their baby was growing up quicker with each passing day and beautiful Belle had a right for the chance to know her daddy.

  Carrie’s heart beat fast as she waited for Scott to speak. His reaction would illustrate the way forward and what she said next. For now, she would relinquish her habitual need to be in control. Empathy rose for the man sitting opposite her. She remembered all too clearly the shock of the blue line appearing on the pregnancy test. Hadn’t she pretty much shown Scott the exact same thing?

  His sharp intake of breath broke the tension and he looked up. His dark, blue eyes blazed under the light and Carrie shifted in her seat. The intensity she’d found so appealing felt different now, making her stiffen with unease, rather than heightening her attraction. Uncertainty and shock showed in his expression, overshadowing the steadfast authority she’d gotten from him before.

  “You’re sure it’s mine?” The color in his face faded.

  Her first instinct was to be insulted, but she pushed it down. He didn’t have any more reason to trust her than she did him. She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Girl or boy?”

  Irritation bloomed and she raised her eyebrows. “Does it matter?”

  He closed his eyes. “No. That was a stupid thing to ask. Sorry.”

  Carrie released a shaky breath. An apology was unexpected—and appreciated. She swallowed against the dryness in her throat. “Her name’s Belle. She’ll be three in April. She has dark hair and blue eyes. Like you.”

  His gaze stormed with a myriad of questions and a depth of pain she’d neither anticipated nor prepared for. Her stomach clenched. She’d expected dismissal, denial, even accusation, but not this barely disguised anguish.

  “You’ve raised her with your husband all this time?” His voice was low, laced with a hint of annoyance.

  Further guilt slipped into her veins and sent her pride soaring to high-alert. “Yes. Gerard loved her like she was his own.”

  A flash of color darkened his cheeks and his gaze shot to her left hand. “Loved? Past tense? You’re not married now?”

  She glanced at her ring finger and her cheeks warmed. “No. Gerard’s dead.”

  “Dead?”

  “He was killed in a road accident over a year ago.”

  He stared at her for a long moment before glancing toward the people walking through the lobby. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you.” She cleared her throat and fought the painful beat of her heart. She had to take control and veer the conversation away from her personal life. Belle, and Belle only. Everything else was out of bounds. “I’m not here because I want anything from you. You have the right to know you have a daughter. I shouldn’t have kept it from you all this time. Before Gerard died we discussed bringing Belle—”

  “Stop.”

  She froze.

  His gaze ran over her face and lingered at her lips. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to tell me about your marriage or what happened before your husband died. Not yet.”

  Heat pinched her cheeks. “That’s the last thing I want to do. I was trying to explain...apologize, for not coming here before now. I don’t want to discuss Gerard with you any more than you want to hear about him, but he is a part of this. He was the only father Belle has ever known.”

  He glared. “And that’s my fault?”

  Carrie’s heart picked up speed to see such anger in his eyes. “No, but—”

  “Fine, then I’m not prepared to listen to you talk about the man who’s effectively raised my daughter for the last two years. Not yet.” He pushed to his feet and fisted his hand in his hair. “I need time to process the news I have a child I know nothing about. You disappeared, Carrie. Even knowing you carried my baby, you didn’t come back.”

  Irritation simmered deep inside and Carrie glared. “I didn’t disappear. I went back to my life after an insane few days with you.”

  His eyes locked on hers. “An insane few days?”

  She lifted her chin, steadfastly refusing to acknowledge the hurt that flashed across his gaze before he blinked and it was replaced with defiance. “Yes.”

  His jaw tightened. “Right. That’s all it was to you.”

  Carrie looked past him to the bustling lobby. “I didn’t know how else to do this but to just come right out and tell you.” She forced her eyes to his. “You’ve got my number. If you want to contact me—”

  “That’s it?”

  She frowned. “You just said—”

  “What did I say?” He glared. “That it’s okay for you to tell me I have a daughter and then you’re free to leave the Cove again? I don’t think so. I need some time to think. You’re going nowhere until I come find you and we decide what happens next.”

  Panic skittered up her spine and squeezed like a fist inside her chest. “What happens next?”

  “Yes, Carrie.”

  She swallowed hard as protectiveness for Belle rose up inside her. “Nothing has to happen straight away. I wanted you to know because I can’t live with this hanging over me anymore. I don’t expect you to step up...or see her...or—”

  “Be in her life any way at all unless it’s by your rules?” He huffed out a laugh and snatched his hand from his hair. “Who do think I am, Carrie? You’ve told me I’ve got a child. Now you wait for me.”

  “I wait for you?” Carrie barely stopped herself from teetering from the chair. “What do you mean wait for you?”

  “You wait for me to get my head around this.”

  The anger emanating from him spilled like poison across the table between them. Carrie stood, her body shaking. “I’m leaving.”

  He gripped her arm, his eyes blazing. “I don’t know what you expected, but if you thought I wouldn’t give a damn, you’re mistaken. I don’t walk away from the problems that drop into my lap uninvited. I never have before, and I’m not about to start now.”

  She glared. “Belle isn’t a problem. She’s a little girl who’s lost the only father she’s ever known.” She yanked her arm from his grip. “From what your friend Nick told me, you’ve got plans, so why don’t you do us both a favor and continue with them? It’s Christmas. Go be happy with your family.”

  “It seems one half of my new family is standing right in front of me.”

  Her heart shot into her throat. How was this getting so out of her control? Scott was a player, a womanizer, yet the man standing in front of her was reacting so differently than a man who didn’t give a damn would or should. Panic flowed through her on a heated wave. She had to do or say something to stop the look of possession in his eyes. “Belle and I are nothing but strangers to you.”

  He glared. “You really think that?”

  She lifted her chin. “I know that. From what your friend ranted at me this afternoon, you already have a family.” Shame that she might have slept with a married man curdled like soured milk in her stomach. “So go and do what you need to do and call me whenever you want to talk, but I will not stand here and listen to you say Belle is your family.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Nick told you I had a family?”

  “Yes.” She crossed her arms to hide the trembling. “
I didn’t come here to cause you trouble. You can chastise me about my lack of thinking, but don’t for one minute start blaming me for wanting to protect my child. You can’t lay any claims or demands on me without knowing her or me. More importantly, without us knowing you.”

  His cheeks darkened. “You think you need to protect her from me?”

  Tears burned and she nodded. “I don’t know you, Scott.”

  He stared at her for so long Carrie took a step back, nerves jumping in her stomach. “What?”

  “The family Nick spoke of is my mother and three sisters.” His jaw tightened. “I’m the furthest thing from a married family man you’re likely to meet in this town.”

  Relief he wasn’t married coursed through her, only to be snatched away again by the boldness of his honesty. “Right. So what are we arguing about? Clearly, you’re happy with your life just the way it is. I can leave on the first train tomorrow and you won’t need to see me ever again.”

  “You’re going nowhere. Not yet.”

  Their eyes locked and Carrie opened her mouth to protest, to tell him he didn’t get to lay down the rules, but nothing came out. No words of wisdom or wit burst forth to put the man in his place. She snapped her mouth closed.

  He smiled softly. “Did you think I was married? Had kids?”

  She crossed her arms. “And if I did, you find that funny?” She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t sleep around, and I certainly don’t sleep with other women’s husbands or partners.” Her body trembled with frustration as his gaze softened to careful curiosity rather than hostility. She blinked and glanced across the lobby. “I should go.”

  “If Belle’s mine, she’s my family. I care about my family more than you’ll ever know.”

  Carrie snapped her gaze to his. “If she’s yours?”

  He shrugged.

  “Get out of my way.” She pushed him. It was like trying to move a rock with a feather.

  “You’re not leaving the Cove until we’ve talked some more.”

  She fisted her hands on her hips. “Are you trying to scare me? Bully me? Great way to convince me I should consider you being a part of my daughter’s life.”