Christmas at the Cove

by Rachel Brimble

Defensiveness for Scott rose on a hot, pounding wave, pinching Carrie’s cheeks. “The subject of dinner was never on the table...so to speak. We’re not dating. He’s just a friend.”

  Amanda arched her eyebrow. “Friends don’t leave other friends to eat alone while they’re visiting. Whatever his excuse, it’s unforgivable.” She stood and shrugged her coat from her shoulders, revealing a black, second-skin dress and a necklace with a single diamond pendant so big Carrie could only presume it was fake...unless boutique toyshops had a turnover beyond her imagination, of course.

  She opened her mouth to say something, anything, to get Amanda to leave, but she was already waving for the attention of a nearby waiter. “Excuse me, waiter?”

  Briefly closing her eyes, Carrie took a breath and steeled herself for whatever was coming next. The smartly dressed waiter strode toward the table, his smile ever-ready. He bowed slightly. “Yes, madam?”

  Carrie grimaced as Amanda fluttered her eyelashes and coyly ran her peach-painted fingernail along the cuff of his jacket. “Is it possible you could set another place at this table? I would love to join my friend for the main course and dessert. Of course, we’ll need a very expensive bottle of wine to accompany our meal, too.” She flashed Carrie a wink.

  Carrie smiled, the strain of it making her cheekbones ache.

  “Of course, madam. Just one moment, please.” The waiter nodded and hurried away.

  “There. See? Easy. Now you won’t have to endure the humiliation of eating alone.” Amanda hung the strap of her bag on the chair before sitting down, smoothing her hands down the bodice of her dress, leaning her elbows on the table and lacing her fingers. “So? How was your day?”

  Carrie scowled. “I don’t find it humiliating to eat alone. I’m a single parent. It’s necessary sometimes. Moreover, I’m a producer and like to people-watch.”

  “A producer? Wow, how very cosmopolitan.”

  Cosmopolitan? Carrie gritted her teeth and reached for her glass. The Chablis tasted better and better.

  “You know...” Amanda glanced around the dining room. “I did have an ulterior motive for tracking you down tonight. It wasn’t just the fact I was concerned Scott might leave you stranded.”

  Carrie took a second gulp of wine. Surprise, surprise. “Oh?”

  “I hate to say this, but I’m concerned you might well be his next target, whether you realize it or not.”

  “Next target? As in a hunter shooting an innocent doe?” Carrie raised her eyebrows. The wine that sloshed through her inspired her to be naughty or nefarious, she hadn’t decided which. “You should give me a little more credit. I’m in Templeton for a reason and intend on being fair and considerate to the person involved for as long as I’m here, and then I’ll be on the next train home.”

  “Fair and considerate to Scott, I presume?” Amanda’s bright blue eyes glittered with interest.

  Carrie slowly replaced her glass on the table. “Scott and I have things to discuss, yes. In the meantime, I’ll enjoy a little time in the Cove, shopping, eating, meeting new people...” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  Amanda’s eyes widened. “You don’t want him, then? You have no romantic interest in Scott? My, my, you should be stuffed and put in the city museum.”

  The waiter returned and Carrie swallowed the retort that scalded her tongue. Who the hell does this woman think she is? One thing is for certain, she’s got a six-foot, two-inch chip on her shoulder called Scott Walker.

  Amanda’s uninvited place at the table was duly set and the waiter produced the wine and food menus with a flourish. Amanda took the menus and perused the choice of food. Carrie watched her from beneath lowered lashes, her mind scrambling how to play out the next hour, or however long she’d be forced to sit and make small talk—although “small talk” was a complete understatement if her suspicions about Amanda’s motives were anything to go by.

  Amanda smiled and snapped the food menu closed. “Do you know, I’ve changed my mind. I won’t eat after all. I’d just like the wine.” She opened the wine menu and glanced over the selection before looking at Carrie. “Any preference?”

  Carrie lifted her glass. “The Chablis is highly recommended.”

  Amanda smiled and snapped the menu shut. “Chablis it is, then.”

  The waiter bowed. “Thank you, ladies. Your wine and just one order of main course will be with you shortly.”

  Carrie followed his retreat with her gaze. She needed to take control of this conversation before Amanda got there first. “So, have you lived in Templeton all your life?”

  Amanda grinned. “It’s no good changing the subject. You and I both know I’m here with your best interests at heart. I don’t want to see Scott take down another beautiful woman who could do so much better.”

  Okay, enough’s enough. “Take me down? Amanda, we need to get something straight. I’m not the type of woman to be taken down by anyone.” That’s right. You’ve never succumbed to Scott Walker. Never. Not once. Carrie swallowed. “I lost my husband last year and I’m getting through it. I have a little girl whom I love dearly and will continue to love for the rest of my life.”

  “So your daughter isn’t Scott’s, then?”

  Carrie stilled. “No.”

  Amanda stared, her eyes narrowing. “Hmm.”

  Carrie took a sip of her wine to ease her arid throat. “I’m a producer on a successful TV show. I don’t need a man to change my life. Okay?”

  Amanda said nothing, and instead continued to stare at Carrie until she began to feel like an exhibit in a museum.

  “What?” Carrie trembled with frustration. She didn’t want this woman here. She didn’t want to hear what Scott had or hadn’t done...or at least, that was what she’d keep telling herself.

  Amanda cleared her throat. “It’s because of your daughter that I felt duty-bound to find you, you know.”

  Carrie’s stomach tightened. “Why?”

  “Because I’m a mother too, Carrie.”

  “And?”

  “And I cannot advise you strongly enough to enjoy this evening and then get the first train out of here in the morning.”

  Carrie’s irritation bloomed into a simmering anger. “Why?”

  Two spots of color darkened Amanda’s cheeks and she gripped Carrie’s hand where it lay on the tabletop. “All I’m saying is Scott Walker is a womanizer. You don’t want to go falling for the man when you have a child to consider. I did. It got me in a mess that led to my darling little boy wondering why his new daddy had disappeared.”

  Nausea rose bitter in Carrie’s throat. “His new—”

  “Yes. Scott treated my boy like a prince. What did he think would happen if he walked away?”

  “He wouldn’t just walk away without good reason.” He treated your little boy like a prince, huh? Carrie bit back her smile. Amanda had inadvertently given Scott a brownie point.

  Amanda arched an eyebrow. “You know that for sure? You’ve known Scott for so long you can vouch for his stand-up character?”

  Unease raised the hairs at Carrie’s nape. She didn’t know Scott at all. Not really. Doubt about Belle’s biological father, and who he was, rippled through her once again. How was she to ever know for sure she was doing the right thing by being here? Carrie clenched her jaw. She could not let Amanda have the upper hand. All I need to know about Scott—the stuff that matters—I’ll learn. “I know enough that it would surprise me if he walked away without so much as a backward glance from anyone. Child or no child.” The passion and reverence in her words tore at Carrie’s heart. She wanted, desperately, to believe Scott would be good to Belle...for the rest of her life.

  Amanda’s eyes glinted with malice. “Then tell me why walking away was exactly what he did.”

  Carrie eased her hand from Amanda’s and leaned back in her cha
ir. She carefully considered the woman in front of her, using her every intuition to conjure up an accurate assessment of Amanda’s intentions before she drew Carrie unwittingly into something she wanted no part of. “I won’t sit here and let you bad-mouth him. As far as I’m concerned, Scott deserves my judgment based on what I know, not what I hear.”

  The waiter reappeared with their wine and Carrie gratefully took the time to gather her temper. She had to keep her cool and not let Amanda see how her suggestion Scott had no consideration for anyone but himself rankled.

  Maybe it would be a blessing if Amanda provided evidence to back up her claim against Scott...thus confirming Carrie’s fears Amanda’s spiteful allegations were true. If he was a womanizing, noncommittal waste of time, then it would make everything simpler. One, Carrie could leave the Cove guilt-free once she’d given him a chance; and two, her entire being would stop humming with the need to find out if they were ever to make love again, and have him take her in the same powerful and magical way he had before.

  Carrie cursed her lustful thoughts, but how was she to fight her attraction to him when so far Scott had been attentive, considerate and willing to listen to her? Hadn’t he offered to try and do whatever he could to meet Carrie’s standards and his own? What more could she have hoped for?

  Amanda’s derision of him had to be unjustified. How could a man committed to his family, who ran his own business, lack in the steadfast ability to see things through to the end? Carrie had seen the anguish her returning to Templeton had brought him. Everything showed so clearly in his dark blue eyes. Deep down, she sensed that not knowing whether he could be a good father pulled on his every emotion. Could she show him he could? Carrie swallowed. Surely it wasn’t her job to show him. Her heart ached with sadness. He needed to know it himself.

  With their glasses filled, the waiter carefully placed the bottle into a wine chiller he’d brought to the table. He bowed and left her and Amanda alone. Carrie took a sip of wine and met Amanda’s expectant gaze.

  Amanda smiled. “Are you all right? You were miles away.”

  Carrie replaced her glass on the table, her armor stealing over her shoulders and straightening her spine. “How long did you and Scott date?”

  Surprise flickered through Amanda’s gaze before she blinked and it was replaced with superiority. She lifted her chin. “Two months. Why?”

  Two months? Carrie’s stomach knotted with a sensation that felt too much like misplaced envy. The thought of Amanda having night after night with Scott made her time with him either pathetic or precious. She had no way of knowing which. She nodded. “Two months exclusively?”

  Amanda flushed. “Of course.”

  “He never cheated on you? Stood you up? Lied to you?”

  Her color darkened. “No, he just walked away.”

  Satisfaction—and relief—furled in Carrie’s stomach. Amanda’s deepening blush told her Scott had remained faithful until the end. “You’re telling me nothing that makes him a womanizer. In fact, you’re not telling me anything that makes me less likely to trust him than I do now.”

  Amanda’s eyes lit with cunning. “So you do want more than friendship with him?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Carrie cursed the heat that pinched her cheeks.

  Amanda smiled. “You didn’t have to. I know what Scott is to women.”

  “And what’s that exactly?”

  “Someone none of us will ever have forever.”

  Carrie’s food arrived and with a final loaded glare at her companion, she focused on her plate of spaghetti carbonara, which now looked as appealing as a plate of malnourished eels. She picked up her fork and twirled it into the pasta. “Let’s talk about something else. Your shop, for instance. It’s beautiful.”

  Silence.

  Carrie looked up. Amanda watched her, her gaze determined. “I bet you and he had a long-distance relationship of some sort and now you’ve turned up at the Cove, he’s dumped you, right?”

  “What?”

  “That’s why you’re in the hotel, eating alone.”

  Carrie laid down her fork, her stomach burning with acidic vengeance. “I could call him right now and he’d be here. It was me who walked away from him this afternoon.”

  Amanda’s eyes grew wide with childlike excitement. “Call him now and ask him to come.”

  “No.” This woman is crazy. Crazy because of what Scott did to her? Carrie held Amanda’s unrelenting gaze. No matter how much Amanda might have shaken her trust in Scott, it was nothing compared to the mammoth distrust she had in Amanda.

  “Prove me wrong, Carrie. I’d welcome it.”

  Temper snapping, Carrie whipped her clutch from the table and extracted her phone. Cursing the tremor in her fingers, she called Scott’s number and waited. The tone continued to ring as Amanda’s smile spread wider. Voice mail kicked in and Carrie snapped the phone shut. The last thing she needed to hear was Scott’s voice. It would only weaken her defenses.

  “No answer.” She shoved the phone back into her bag.

  Amanda stood. “You know where to find me if you want to talk.”

  Carrie stared. “You’re leaving?”

  “I’ve seen and heard enough.” Amanda smiled. “Enjoy the wine. I’ll pay for it on the way out. Night, night.”

  Carrie glowered after Amanda until she left the dining room. Once she’d gone, Carrie whipped the bottle of Chablis from the cooler.

  Damn her insinuations. Damn her for making me doubt Scott when I so badly want to trust him. Damn her for having had two months with a man I’ve never forgotten. Not for a single day.

  * * *

  CARRIE MARCHED TO her hotel room and used the keycard to open the door. Stepping inside, she flicked on the lights and slipped her stilettos from her feet, welcoming the depth of the carpet as it cocooned her toes. She walked farther into the room, tossed her clutch onto the bed and collapsed face first onto the mattress, not caring that her silk dress would be little more than a crumpled dishrag by morning.

  Her meal had probably been delicious but her mouth was coated with distaste after Amanda’s performance. The woman clearly had a screw loose and Carrie had to find a way to delete her insinuations about Scott from her mind. Amanda’s entire diatribe stank to high heaven of jealousy and dented ego. She hardly looked brokenhearted, with her impeccable clothes, hair and makeup. If anything, Amanda looked well and truly insane.

  Carrie glanced at her watch. It was barely nine but nothing felt more appealing than getting into her pajamas and making a cup of tea to drink in bed. Maybe the TV would distract her from the myriad of thoughts and worries bouncing around in her head. Pushing from the bed, she slipped her dress from her shoulders, letting it pool on the floor before reaching for the TV remote. She pointed it at the TV and the screen flickered to life.

  Nothing like a period drama to ground a girl in reality.

  Dressed in her underwear, she grabbed the kettle from a tray on the dresser and walked into the bathroom to fill it. She caught her reflection in the mirror and slowly lowered the kettle to the sink. Her skin looked tired and drawn and she had black circles under her eyes. She tugged at her cheeks. God, the emotional strain of her mission was making her resemble a zombie. The sooner she and Scott got a DNA test done the better.

  The ringing of her cell phone in the bedroom snapped her gaze to the door. Scott.

  Her stomach executed a loop-the-loop as she hurried from the bathroom. She pulled the cell from her clutch, and a funny sensation skittered across her heart when she saw her intuition about the caller had been right. She pressed the talk button. “Scott?”

  “Hi. I’ve got a missed call from you. Everything okay?”

  The low rumble of male voices in the background filtered down the line and Carrie pulled back her shoulders. She didn’t want anyone el
se knowing their business. “Sure. It was nothing. I didn’t mean to disturb your evening.”

  “You’re not. Why did you call?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it if you have company. Why don’t we meet somewhere tomorrow?”

  “Hold on.” The background noises slowly faded and then there was the click of a door closing. “I’m in the bathroom. What’s wrong?”

  She dropped onto the bed, her head falling back against the pillows. “You didn’t have to leave your friends.”

  “I wanted to. Talk to me.”

  Carrie squeezed her eyes shut. The low, masculine and caring tone of his voice seeped into her ear and spread over her body in a soothing and heated mist. Loneliness and confusion rose and enveloped her in silent yearning for him. Just one more night together would be all she needed to sate the erotic thoughts that chased through her mind. Just one night would give her the evidence she needed to accept what they had before could never be resurrected. If he had been in the room with her, Carrie would have put all the distrust and insecurity that lay between them to one side...just for a while.

  She snapped her eyes wide open and forced her heart into submission. “I had an unexpected companion at dinner. She challenged me to call you.”

  “She?”

  “Amanda.”

  The silence stretched for a second or two until he took a sharp breath. “Whatever she said, ignore it.”

  “Believe me, I am. But you’ve certainly made yourself an enemy in her.”

  “I know, but whatever I say to the woman, nothing changes. I didn’t walk out on her the way she tells everyone I did. I tried my best, but it didn’t work out. She didn’t stop criticizing me.”

  “About what?”

  “About her son, Rhys. That’s part of the reason I’m shot through a loop now I know I could have a child of my own. Amanda got inside my head, Carrie.”

  “And made you think you weren’t cut out to be a parent?” Carrie frowned. “You know she’s kind of crazy, right?”

  He laughed softly but Carrie sensed his insecurity. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him to come to the hotel. The reasoning shamed her...for it had nothing to do with their daughter and everything to do with the sensations rolling over her body in undulating waves. “Scott—”