Christmas at the Cove

by Rachel Brimble

  “What is?”

  He met her steady gaze, took a breath and released it. “Fine. If I tell you what I’m thinking right now, you can give me advice, but you don’t tell anyone what I told you.”

  “Cross my heart.” She licked her finger and swiped it over her chest.

  “I had a thing with Carrie a few summers ago—”

  “You had sex.”

  Scott rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

  “Go on.”

  “And she’s back, and the way I feel about her is as strong as ever.”

  “You want her back in your bed.”

  Scott frowned. “You don’t think that little of me, surely?”

  Marian raised her eyebrows, a glint of pride shining softly in their depths. “Are you saying there’s a chance you want more than that?”

  The mess of emotions that had raced around him ever since Carrie left the bakery hitched up a notch. He slumped back in the seat. “I don’t know what I want.”

  “Didn’t it occur to you that one day a woman would walk into your life and make the famous Walker love machine retire his rubbers?”

  Scott glared. “Thanks for the support.”

  She reached for his hand lying on the table and squeezed. “Oh, honey, I’m teasing, just trying to make you smile.”

  Scott shook his head. “Every instinct in my body wants Carrie to stay here, but those feelings aren’t enough. I don’t know her any more than she knows me. There’s a child slap bang in the middle of the confusion—”

  Marian’s smile vanished. “Oh, Scottie. Did you get that girl pregnant?”

  Scott stared, inwardly cursing his stupidity. How could he tell Marian he was a father before he told his mother? “No.”

  She narrowed her eyes and studied him for a long—long—time, her gaze alight with knowing as he struggled not to flee from the bakery. He waited. And waited.

  Marian cleared her throat. “Go on.”

  “Look, forget I said anything.” He moved to stand. “I’ve got things I should—”

  “Sit.”

  Feeling like an idiot when her voice boomed so suddenly the guy at the next table splashed his black coffee on the table, Scott closed his eyes. “Marian—”

  “So there’s a child too. What did you say to her to make her leave like her ass was on fire? You don’t hurt women on purpose. I know that as well as I know my George likes his briefs good and tight so his bits aren’t flailing around.”

  Scott squeezed his eyes shut against the image and blew out a breath. “I said I’d try to do whatever it took to please her. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, she ran for the hills...or at least the hotel.” He opened his eyes. “I don’t blame her. My arrogance makes me want to throw up.”

  “Hmm.” She stared at him a few moments longer before sliding from the booth. “It was the try that did it.”

  He frowned. “What else was I supposed to say? How can I promise her anything?”

  She fisted her hands on her hips and shot him a glare that would’ve felled a lesser man. “You can’t, but you didn’t have to say try. Don’t you men ever learn anything about the female race? I’ll try is worse than I can’t. Means we haven’t got a damn thing to hang our hats on. Now, you sit there and have a little think about what you’re going to do to fix this. I assume you want to fix it?”

  He opened his mouth to respond, but Marian hadn’t finished.

  “’Course you do, so I’ll grab you a coffee to go with your brooding. If you’re lucky, I’ll spend some time mulling over your stupidity too.” She turned and walked toward the counter just as the bakery door swung open beside her. She drew to an abrupt halt. “Well, lookey here.”

  Scott’s heart leaped into his throat as Carrie stepped inside, shaking snowflakes from her gorgeous hair and reminding him of a model in a shampoo commercial. She looked up and started when she met Marian’s gaze. “Marian.”

  Marian crossed her arms. “Carrie.”

  Scott’s mouth drained dry. Leave her be, Marian. Leave her be.

  Carrie glanced around her as if seeking escape before she faced Marian again. “Is everything all right?”

  “I like you. No idea why, but I do.” Marian jerked her head in Scott’s direction. “He’s over there where you left him. Be gentle with him. There aren’t many women who walk out on him. He’s kind of sore you did.”

  Goddamn it. Scott cleared his throat. “I can hear you, you know.”

  Carrie snapped her head in his direction, but he focused his glare on Marian.

  She lifted her shoulders. “So? You think I wouldn’t whip your pants down and slap your damn ass in front of this girl? Get on with it, both of you. I’m not as young as I used to be. I haven’t got time for hand-holding.”

  She stormed toward the counter, leaving Carrie standing in the same spot. Scott stood and waved toward the table. “Shall we try again?”

  The furrowing at her brow and the doubt in Carrie’s big, brown eyes showed her hesitation, but she came closer. She stopped directly in front of him and tipped her head back to meet his eyes. “I shouldn’t have skipped out on you before.”

  He ran his gaze over her beautiful face, somehow getting sidetracked around her mouth. “Yes, you should. I shouldn’t have asked you to stay like that. It’s too soon, but I’m glad you’re here now.” He curled his hands into fists as his fingers itched to take hers.

  She slid into the booth. “We need to sort this out once and for all.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  CARRIE INHALED A strengthening breath and concentrated on keeping her cool even when, instead of taking the opposite seat, Scott slid in beside her. She needed the table between them, because now all she could think about was his proximity and his musky scent. She had to find a quick and painless way to move forward, had to find a solution to everything that prevented her daughter from having two parents in her life like any child deserved.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’ll stay for another couple of days, but then I have to go home. I can’t stay here for Christmas.”

  The soft whisper of his exhalation drifted over her folded hands on the table. “Thank you.”

  She swallowed, wanting the words she needed to say out of her body as soon as possible. “You have your life, and I have mine.” She opened her eyes. “Neither of us has to change our plans because I’ve told you about Belle. You can still do what you want to do.”

  His eyes ever so slightly darkened. “If I’m a father, it changes everything.”

  Be strong, Carrie. Lay down the ground rules. “I disagree.” She straightened her spine. “I get it, Scott. Truly. I understand you think knowing about Belle means you have to change your entire life, but that’s not true.”

  “That’s not what I’m—”

  “Let me just say this, please.”

  He closed his eyes and she took that as permission to continue. She inhaled a deep breath. “I like, and appreciate, how you think so seriously about what you should to do and how to do it, but I’m not asking you to change your plans overnight. This is going to take time. I want it to take time. Belle doesn’t need to know about you yet. You can go on with your life and when the time’s right, I’ll tell her about you.”

  Silence.

  Carrie swallowed against the dryness in her throat. When she’d been standing outside the holiday park, with the decision to see her mission through to the end burning like a flame inside her, she’d thought her words would be strong and clear, delivered with a conviction he couldn’t argue with. Yet now, her stomach trembled with nerves and her hands longed to take his.

  Why did he make her feel so torn and her reasoning unfair? Belle was hers. He had no obligation to her unless he wanted one. “I’m not saying that to be cruel, you know.” She sighed. �
��I’ve looked after her the last year without a partner beside me. She’ll be okay...whatever you decide.”

  His continuing silence made her fear she had driven a bigger wedge between them, but she wouldn’t falter. She had come to Templeton and achieved what she came to do—the gates were open and Scott could step through them whenever he was ready. As long as he realized the hinges wouldn’t creak back and forth on a whim.

  He slowly opened his eyes and Carrie stiffened. His gaze was fiery hot once again and his jaw had hardened to granite. “So, just like that, the problem’s fixed?”

  Irritation threatened and Carrie struggled to fight it. “I don’t know what else to say. I’m trying to be reasonable. I’m trying to think of a way forward.”

  His gaze bored into hers. “We’ll spend some time together these next few days and before you leave, we’ll have worked out what happens after that, together. No more decision-making without me, Carrie. I want to work through this together. As Belle’s parents, because that’s exactly what we are for the rest of our lives, whether you want that or not.”

  Belle’s parents. For the rest of their lives. Her heart stumbled and her stomach flipped over. It shamed her how amazing it felt to hear him say that, not just for Belle, but for her too. Her gaze wandered to his mouth and lingered there...traveled lower to stare at the hollow at the base of his neck. His strength and integrity floated toward her and she inhaled, fighting the rush of need that swept through her core.

  How I am supposed to stop this overwhelming need to see him naked whenever he talks as though he cares about me? Cares about Belle? How can I keep my head straight when all I can think about is his body on mine and the two of us tumbling and laughing beneath warm bed sheets?

  He smiled, his gaze softening. “I want to get to know you before I know Belle. I want to know your likes and dislikes, what makes you happy, your goals and aspirations...don’t you want to know the same about me? These next few days will be good for us.”

  The lowered tone of his voice quivered over the surface of her skin, sparking the air around them with awareness and bringing sex closer and closer to the forefront of her mind. Once again, her gaze dropped to his mouth. “Okay.”

  He grinned and she looked up to meet his eyes—her heart hitched. His gaze was on her mouth too. She wet her bottom lip and his eyes ever so slightly widened before he met her gaze. “I’m going to show you how good Templeton can be.”

  Stop this. Stop it now. She shifted in her seat and cleared her throat, looking toward the bakery counter. “Good.” She faced him and arched an eyebrow. “Maybe one of Marian’s pancakes would start things off the right way.”

  A couple of heartbeats passed before he touched her arm. “Do you skate?”

  Carrie stiffened. “What?”

  He grinned. “Do you skate?”

  She frowned. “A little.” She glanced past him toward the window and the ice rink in the center of the town square in the distance. “You’re not thinking—”

  “Yep...and after we’ve done a few circuits, you can consider whether or not you’d let me introduce you to my family before you leave.”

  She froze as dread dropped into her stomach. “Your family? Don’t you think it’s a bit soon to—”

  “My family means a lot to me and, whether it’s ideal or not, they’re a part of this.” His eyes softened. “Belle will have a new grandma and aunts. I can’t shut them out of this. I won’t shut them out of this.”

  Words escaped her as trepidation whispered over the surface of her skin. He was right. This was about so much more than her, Scott and Belle. Belle would have a new extended family. A soft whisper of joy filled Carrie’s heart, even as her worry heightened.

  He inhaled a shaky breath and released it. “I’m a bigger part of my family’s well-being than I’d like sometimes, but that’s the way it’s been for years.” He smiled. “They’re a pain in the ass from time to time, but they’ve got a lot of love to give a little girl—and you.”

  She forced a smile even as uncertainty lingered. A family. A real bona fide maternal and paternal family for her little girl. Carrie exhaled. She had to walk this path with Scott, had to embrace the chance for her baby to be surrounded by as many people as possible who loved her. “Okay...but one step at a time. This is about your relationship with Belle, before anyone else’s.”

  “Of course.” He slid his hand along her forearm and took her hand. “Thank you.”

  Their eyes locked for a moment, before a movement to her side caught Carrie’s attention and she looked up, snatching her hand from Scott’s fingers.

  A waitress stood there, holding a tray laden with coffee cups and pastries. She smiled. “Two coffees and two honeycomb muffins. Marian said to bring them over.”

  “Thanks, Stacy.”

  She plonked the tray on the table and the crockery clattered. “You’re welcome. If you need anything else, just holler.”

  When she’d left them alone, Scott pushed Carrie’s latte toward her and she clasped her hands around it without looking up. “I want a family for Belle, Scott.” She pushed some hair behind her ear, her hand trembling. “Someone more than me. When Gerard was killed, it woke me up to reality.” She met his eyes. “Life is unpredictable and, for the most part, painful. If anything should happen to me...”

  “Hey.” He cupped his hand to her jaw. “Don’t think like that. You’re going to be around a long time, okay?”

  Tears burned and she nodded, forcing a smile. “Okay.”

  She lifted her face and his hand slipped away as she picked up her coffee. His words clutched around her heart and the promise in his gaze made the urge to kiss him barrel through her once again.

  She stared into the milky-brown depths of her cup. “You’re her father. The sooner we get a DNA test done, the better. I hate the way you keep saying if you’re her daddy.” She swallowed. “Although, I understand how you would need proof, considering I practically dragged you out of the bar that night.”

  He smiled. “I was there too, you know. I could’ve stopped what was happening—”

  “Could you?”

  Their eyes locked. Heat rose and lingered. The intense heat in his gaze, the light flush at his cheeks told her all she needed to know. He was there and he was trying his hardest. There was nothing more she could expect or ask. Her body ached to move toward him—on him. A strange peace eased the tension in her Carrie’s neck and shoulders and she arched toward him. Trust him. As though drawn by an invisible force, he leaned closer too, his wide, muscular shoulders strong and unyielding as he stole his hand onto her arm...

  “Hello, big brother.”

  He snatched his hand from her arm with lightning speed and they snapped their heads up in unison. A stunning, dark-haired, blue-eyed woman who looked far too much like Scott smiled directly at Carrie, her eyes glinting with undisguised glee. “And who might this be?”

  Carrie looked to Scott.

  He closed his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  “Is that any way to talk to your favorite sister?” She grinned.

  Carrie couldn’t move. His sister? How did she deal with this? How did they deal with this? Apprehension rolled like a wave into her stomach and stayed there. Take control. Carrie forced a smile and offered her hand. “Nice to meet you. Carrie Jameson.”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you too, Carrie Jameson. I’m Bianca Walker, Scott’s sister.”

  Still smiling, Carrie eased her hand from his sister’s and faced Scott. “I’m going to go back to the hotel. Call me later.”

  He glanced at his sister. “Carrie, will you just hold on a minute?”

  She widened her eyes hoping he understood her leaving was not up for debate. “Can I get out, please?”

  He briefly closed his eyes, frustration showing in his raised shoulders be
fore he slid from the booth and stood. “I’ll call you.”

  Carrie smiled and exited the booth. “Great.”

  Entirely too aware of his sister’s curious glances between the two of them, Carrie lifted her coat from the back of the booth and hitched her bag onto her shoulder. She nodded to Bianca, her smile firmly in place, even though her insides were a mess. So much for her control from there on in; control flew straight out the door the minute his sister opened it. “It was nice meeting you.”

  Bianca beamed, delight gleaming in her bright blue eyes. “You too.”

  “Carrie.” Scott’s voice was low, commanding...determined. “Don’t leave.”

  She felt claustrophobic as his gaze locked on hers and she glanced toward his sister. “I have to.”

  “No, you don’t.” He snapped his gaze to Bianca. “Go grab a coffee or whatever it is you came in here for.”

  Bianca narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin. “When I’m ready.”

  Scott glared and crossed his arms. “Now, Bianca.”

  Carrie pulled herself up to her full five feet seven inches, sensing if she didn’t stand up to Bianca now, there was every possibility she’d be mincemeat the next time they met. The tense atmosphere grew in strength as the three of them stood in a circle. Finally, Bianca threw her hands up in surrender. “Fine.”

  She flounced toward the counter and Carrie turned to Scott. “I don’t want to talk about Belle in front of your sister. I’m nowhere near ready for that. Not yet.”

  His eyes stormed with frustration. “Believe me, neither am I.”

  “Then call me when you can.”

  When she moved to walk away, he gripped her elbow. “I’m going to speak to the local doctor and ask him to hurry through a DNA test.”

  Carrie nodded. “Okay.”

  “Once...” He glanced toward the counter, color darkening his cheeks. “Once that part is done, we’ll know where we stand.”

  She followed his gaze toward the counter, where Bianca was in deep conversation with the waitress who’d brought them their coffees. Bianca and the waitress looked over, curiosity etched on their faces. Swallowing against the weight of their judgment, Carrie faced Scott. “You have friends and family here, I don’t. I don’t want this turning into a witch-hunt. You need to speak to your sister. Tell her who I am if you have to, because I won’t have people making me out to be a villain.”