Christmas at the Cove

by Rachel Brimble

  Cursing, he headed for the counter. He glanced across the bakery toward Carrie and their eyes met. He lifted his head as a way of asking her if she was okay. She smiled softly and nodded. He released his held breath and faced front. So far, so good. The last thing he needed was Carrie thinking he’d tossed Amanda and her son aside when deep inside he still had no idea how he really felt about the potential of Belle being his.

  He might have as little as twenty-four hours with Carrie before she disappeared again to spend Christmas with Belle. He understood her need to be with her daughter and wouldn’t try to stop Carrie leaving, but he didn’t doubt for one minute if she suspected he would turn his back on Belle, he’d never see Carrie or the little girl again.

  He had to figure out a way of ensuring she understood it was Amanda’s words rather than her son’s presence that so quickly felt like a squeezing hand around Scott’s throat. The suffocation he’d felt had been about Amanda, not the boy.

  Self-doubt ricocheted inside him and Scott glanced toward Carrie a second time. Her determination to tell him he was a father had only provoked his attraction toward her further. She was strong, committed and independent. All the things he craved in a woman and had yet to find before or after her. She was still in Templeton, despite his less than amicable reaction...and Nick’s blunt and cold welcome. She didn’t spook easily and that was more important to him than she could ever know.

  Yet, right now, Belle was his priority. He refused to get emotionally involved with Carrie until he knew for sure the little girl was his. What was to say Carrie wanted him anyway? She’d said nothing about trying again. In fact, she’d made it pretty damn clear she was there for Belle and Belle only.

  Scott clenched his jaw and moved forward in the line. He wanted a life partner who could handle his family, his baggage and his messed-up resentment toward his dad—and he couldn’t help thinking no woman had come closer to being the right one than Carrie.

  Yet, whether he liked it or not, he couldn’t ignore her husband had been a stand-up guy...and Carrie still wore his ring.

  Scott shifted from one foot to the other. The long queue ahead of him hadn’t moved. Marian whirled back and forth, harassment showing in her red face. Scott left the line. Marian would send him away anyway if she spotted him waiting—either that, or get him kneading dough. She held no qualms with making her regulars wait if they were under the age of thirty-five. To quote her, “Kids your age can wait without risk of your knees giving out or your incontinence pants leaking.”

  Forcing a smile, Scott slid into the seat opposite Carrie. She’d removed her coat and faced the window, her long, thick hair a blanket of wheat down her back. Thinly disguised apprehension showed in her pallor and stiff shoulders. His smile faltered. “What’s wrong?”

  Her smile was too immediate and too wide to be sincere. “Nothing.” She glanced at the empty table. “No pancakes?”

  Hating that he didn’t have the words or actions to comfort her when his mind and heart were in such a mess, Scott nodded toward the queue. “I might as well rest my legs considering the time it’s going to take to get to the front of that lot.”

  She glanced at the counter and flashed him a smile before gazing through the window once more. The atmosphere intensified with unspoken words. It was clear she’d seen enough at the toyshop to understand he and Amanda had history. He swallowed against the bitter taste that coated his throat.

  What could he really tell her? How time and again he avoided relationships? How the weight of responsibility pressed down on him more often than it lifted him? She would hate him before he’d had the chance to figure out what to do about her, Belle or anything else.

  He had to fix this atmosphere threatening to obliterate the gentle whispers of trust beginning to develop between them. If the child was his and he ran at the first hurdle...

  He took a deep breath. “Amanda’s my ex.”

  She turned, her eyebrow lifted and a soft glint of teasing sparkled in her eyes. “Ah.”

  Shifting in his seat, Scott glanced toward the window. “It ended badly and—”

  “Was the decision yours or hers?”

  “What?”

  “To end it.”

  “Mine.”

  “Right.”

  He frowned. “What?”

  “So now you’re going to say she’s the mad-bitch psycho ex and not to listen to anything she has to say, right?”

  “No.”

  She raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

  “Fine, maybe I was. The point is, don’t judge me on it not working out with her, okay? She has a son. A little boy. I don’t want you thinking it was because of the kid that I walked. It wasn’t.”

  Her smile stayed in place but Scott saw the subtle shift in her gaze—teasing to careful consideration.

  She glanced down at her hands folded on the table. “So do you want to tell me your side of what happened? Or shall I wait to hear hers?”

  Defensiveness slithered over his shoulders and his gut tightened. “I’m on my way to where I want to be in this world, Carrie. I have plans...”

  “Plans that don’t include a woman who could mess that up...especially a woman with a child.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then what are you saying?” Her cheeks darkened and her gaze flashed with impatience. “I gave you my truth, Scott, now give me yours.”

  “She wanted more. All the time. She’s selfish, demanding and vain. I don’t have time for a woman like that. It wasn’t all about the boy.” He reached over and covered her hands with his, unsure who he was trying to convince more, Carrie or himself. “None of this is easy for me. You’ve told me I have a daughter and it’s like I’ve taken a bullet to the chest. A relationship, kids...I just don’t know if I’m ready for it yet.”

  “We don’t always get to choose when these things happen.”

  He tightened his grip on her hands. “I know. The moment I laid eyes on you, I would’ve done anything to get to know you better, to have you stay with me and not leave, but I know how things can change. I know how easily people can leave and never come back—”

  “Which will always be entirely out of your control. It’s the same for everyone, Scott. That’s life. What is it you’re really trying to tell me? Just say it. I’m big girl.”

  He ran his gaze over her face and took a deep breath. “My father ran out on us a long time ago, said he couldn’t handle it anymore.”

  “It?”

  Scott clenched his jaw. “Marriage. Kids. Responsibility.” He glanced around the bakery. “So it all came down to me, or rather I made it come down to me.”

  She frowned. “And I should be worried about that?”

  “No...you should be worried that time and again I fear how much of him is in me.”

  “Oh.” She pulled her hands from his and crossed her arms. “Well, I appreciate your honesty.”

  You’ve lost her. You’ve lost her big-time. “But I haven’t gone anywhere yet. Maybe I never will.”

  “Maybe you won’t, but that’s not enough for me to introduce you to our daughter, especially when you could one day leave and never see her again. I’d rather she never met you at all.”

  “Carrie—”

  “I don’t know what else you expect me to say.”

  He swiped his hand over his face. “I just need to have everything in place. Know that I have everything set up to be a good man, husband and father before I make that sort of commitment to anyone.” He forced his eyes to hers. “And I don’t have everything in place. Not yet.”

  Silence.

  She pursed her lips and the noise and chatter all around them grew in volume as he counted the seconds. He’d given her his truth. He’d said the words out loud and now the ball was in her court. He might just have m
ade the biggest mistake of his life, but he refused to lie to her, or make out he was someone different. He held his breath and waited for Carrie to jump to her feet and bolt from the bakery. If she did, he wouldn’t let her get very far. If he had a kid, she had no right to tell him that and then disappear again. No right at all.

  She smiled softly and her shoulders drooped. “Thank you. For telling me the truth. You were right about what you said at the beach, too.”

  He waited. Which part? He’d said way too much.

  She blew out a breath. “I should’ve thought long and hard about how I’d feel if someone turned up and told me I was parent to a two-year-old I knew nothing about. I’m not asking you for anything. That’s not what this is about. I just wanted you to know about Belle, that’s all.”

  Relief she was still sitting and hadn’t run relaxed his shoulders. He smiled. “Then tell me about her.”

  She grinned. “She’s beautiful...”

  He kept his eyes on her face, but her words faded into the background as the magnitude of trouble he was in crashed into his heart. Carrie’s eyes were alight as she chatted about Belle, her voice full of pride and the odd bout of vicious possession he recognized in his mother. His smile was locked in place, his heart beating like a freight train. They had a child together. A child Carrie was so certain was his, she’d willingly do a DNA test.

  Hope and pride bloomed within him, only to be whipped away by insecurity and the overwhelming need to run as she continued to give him a seemingly second-by-second account of his daughter’s life. Scott inhaled a deep breath. The one thing he couldn’t change, or fight, was the fact Carrie affected him. He couldn’t explain what it was, or even why this seemingly normal woman seemed so extraordinary to him. Yet, the same hot, molten need to have her in his bed...and in his life still ran through him as it had before.

  “So that’s it. That’s your daughter in a nutshell.”

  Her laugh cut through his fearful contemplation. Her eyes searched his, her cheeks flushed and her lips pulled wide by the breadth of her smile.

  Taking a deep breath, he reached for her hand. “Will you stay awhile longer?” The words tripped from his tongue like water. So smoothly, he wasn’t certain he’d actually said them.

  Her hand stiffened and she frowned. “What?”

  “Stay. Just until Christmas Eve. I want to get to know you before Belle comes into the equation. Everything is moving so fast and I want to spend some time. Just you and me.”

  She shook her head, disappointment showing in her gaze. “Belle is what this is all about, Scott. Don’t you get that?”

  “I do, but is a few days too much to ask? I need time to get my head around this and I don’t want you to leave. Not yet.” Fire churned and scorched inside him. His feelings for her grew stronger every time she was near.

  He’d be a fool to brush them aside a second time.

  “Scott...I have to be with Belle on Christmas. Staying here isn’t an option.” She slid her hand from his and closed her eyes. When she raised her hands to her face, her fingers trembled. “You have no right to ask me to stay.”

  His gaze hovered on her wedding band and he closed his eyes. “Maybe I haven’t, but please, stay until Christmas Eve. After that, you leave in time to spend Christmas with Belle. I need this, Carrie. To get my head straight.”

  She dropped her hands. “You just told me you’re not sure you’re ready. You can’t expect me to stay here, at Christmas, with the risk that you might turn around and decide you’re not cut out to be a daddy after all.”

  “But—”

  “No. I won’t do it.”

  “I won’t let you walk away a second time.”

  Her angry gaze darted over his face. “Let me? That isn’t your choice to make. You call me after Christmas, in the New Year, whenever, but there is no way I’m staying while you figure out what you want.”

  She pushed to her feet and Scott gripped her wrist, his heart hammering and his head whirling with the myriad of unwanted emotions rushing through him. He clenched his jaw. “Don’t go.”

  “Let go of me.” She snatched her arm from his fingers. “I don’t want to regret coming here, Scott. I have a home and a little girl waiting for me. I’m sorry.” Her pretty porcelain skin shone pink at her cheeks and neck.

  Frustration mixed with desperation. Dented pride mixed with his stupid lust for this woman with the thick, blond hair and eyes like melted chocolate. “God damn it, Carrie, so I’ve got standards of who I want to be as a dad. Standards that are pretty damn high. Is that so wrong? Or would you prefer some two-bit daddy for Belle? It might take me a while to get there, but I know one thing for certain, if there’s anyone I’ll reach those standards for, it’s you.”

  She opened her mouth as if to say something and then snapped it closed. She shook her head and slid from the booth. Turning away from him, she jabbed her arms into her coat and yanked the belt at her waist so tightly Scott flinched. She hitched her bag onto her shoulder and shot her gaze to his. “Goodbye, Scott.”

  Turning, she stormed away from him, sashaying through the tables and tens of people filling the bakery. It was a miracle she didn’t barrel anyone over as though they were little more than pins at a bowling alley. Scott closed his eyes, dropped his head to the table and welcomed the pain.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  BURNING WITH ANGER and frustration, Carrie strode along High Street. She passed the shops with their merry, twinkling facades and headed for God only knew where. Scott’s words reverberated in her mind, making it more and more difficult to breathe against the ice-cold wind that whipped around her.

  What was she supposed to do with the confession that seemed to spew so easily from his mouth? He wasn’t sure if he was cut out to be a dad yet, but he wanted to try? Because of her? The guy was insane. Did he really think she’d let him anywhere near Belle with such a flimsy resume?

  Why had she thought coming to Templeton to find him was the right thing to do for Belle? What more did she need than a strong, steady mother who had all the love in the world to give her? Just because Carrie couldn’t imagine a life without her father didn’t mean Belle needed one who might or might not be there in two years, twelve years or twenty-four.

  Gerard’s sensibility and strength poured into Carrie’s heart. His committed writing schedule and time-management reminded her of the things they had in common. The virtues that provided her daughter a steady life to aspire to. Virtues Carrie clung to in a steadfast attempt to avoid the yearning for excitement that resided just beneath the surface of her skin; the craving Scott ignited so easily—and so clearly lived by.

  Carrie narrowed her eyes. She’d learned her lesson, and throwing caution to the wind once had allowed a storm to blow in and turn her life upside down. She refused to let Scott be a tornado in her life a second time.

  Her parents had stood by her, never demanding answers about her week with Scott. They’d cared for and loved Belle so Carrie could continue to work until she could afford a place of her own and child care. She didn’t need Scott. Didn’t he understand that? It was all about Belle.

  Scott didn’t understand anything. No one did until they had a child and their entire world was tipped on its axis, ruled by deep, unconditional love. Scott didn’t seem to have any idea what his life would be like next week, month or year. She did. She would be caring about her daughter’s heart and welfare. Period.

  Well, there was no way she’d let his bright blue eyes and occasional sexy smile smash her reality to smithereens and blind her with an idyllic, movie-like scenario that was illusory and dangerous. Dangerous to Belle and her.

  She might have thought of Scott before and during her marriage; was reminded of him every time she looked at her daughter; but that didn’t mean she’d let him close enough to waver her decision-making.

  Car
rie hurried blindly forward with no clue where she was going or what to do next. She walked along the promenade, farther and farther from the center of Templeton, oblivious to the distance she covered or her surroundings until the sight of a holiday park ahead snagged her attention. Carrie stared through the open gates, her eyes widening with surprise.

  The Good Time Holiday Park was lit up in all its glory. Fairy lights blinked beneath the eaves and around the door of the reception building, while an eighties’ Christmas hit rang out from what Carrie assumed was some kind of clubhouse. Beyond that, the roofs of rows and rows of mobile homes stretched into the distance.

  She glanced behind her. How far had she walked? She had no idea this place existed. Then again, she and her friends hadn’t ventured farther than the town center three years ago. Bars, the beach and good restaurants had been the order of the weekend.

  She wouldn’t have thought holiday parks would be open right before Christmas, but this one was alive with laughter from the people bustling to and fro around the reception area and clubhouse.

  The shouts of good cheer and shrieks of enjoyment twisted her stomach with regret. Family holidays had been something she and Gerard talked about often, but one never came to pass before he was killed. Her conscience might have forced her to come to Templeton, but Carrie couldn’t deny part of her was curious to find out if Scott was a different man than she’d assumed he was years before. Hadn’t she secretly hoped he wasn’t a player, but a man capable of family parties, holidays and school plays? That kind of life, that kind of family, was what Carrie wanted for Belle more than anything in the world.

  Isn’t it what I want for myself too?

  She approached a bench opposite the Good Time Holiday Park and sat, staring up at its brightly painted sign. Until she’d looked into Scott’s eyes again, the fear of facing a future alone with her daughter had been a phenomenon Carrie hadn’t considered—she’d thought she and Belle would be just fine on their own.