The Truest Thing: Hart's Boardwalk #4

by Samantha Young

  It didn’t.

  Because I hadn’t been worthy of knowing this. Of Jack taking the time to tell me.

  And I knew he had a lot going on with his family, but … he made love to me and then left me.

  Like it wasn’t making love after all.

  Like it was just sex.

  Like I was just one of his casual tourist flings.

  No word from him. Not after his father held me at gunpoint and I’d shot him. Not after Jeff informed me that considering there were three witnesses to Ian holding me at gunpoint, his defense had advised him to take a plea bargain. The case wouldn’t go to court, thankfully, and Ian would serve eighteen months for the crime.

  And where was Jack when I found this out? Not with me!

  Oh my God. I was pregnant with Jack Devlin’s baby.

  A man I definitely did not trust with my heart.

  “You have to tell him, Emery,” Jess said gently.

  I nodded. It wasn’t something I’d keep from him, no matter how much I was afraid of being permanently connected to someone who could hurt me so badly.

  “Cooper has his number if you don’t.”

  I shook my head frantically. “No. I’m not telling him over the phone. I’ll tell him if he ever comes back.”

  “If? He is coming back … Do you want to tell me what happened between you?”

  I did.

  Once upon a time, Jess had trusted me with her story. So I told Jess everything.

  I even told her about Tripp.

  “You can understand why I don’t trust many people, Jess,” I whispered after I was done. “And something told me I could trust Jack. Right from the start. But I can’t. Every time I let my guard down around him … I just end up feeling stupid and used.”

  “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I don’t think that’s Jack’s intention. He didn’t tell Cooper the details, but he mentioned that he felt he needed to give you space to think about what you really wanted. And I think he would be devastated if he thought you thought he’d used you.”

  “Why is he talking to Cooper about this and not me? Whether he is using me or whether he just thinks I’m a child who needs to be coddled, neither makes me feel very good about him,” I said, hearing the bitterness in my voice.

  She sighed heavily. “You’re right. He’s going about this the wrong way. But I know the way he looks at you. Even if it worried me … I liked that for you. And I do know he’s spent all his life trying to protect his sister and mom and Jamie from Ian and his brothers. It’s a habit he can’t break. He’s inadvertently hurt quite a few people to protect his family. It’s noble and sad at the same time.”

  Jess was right. Jack would always put his family first. And how could I possibly find fault with that? I couldn’t. I couldn’t blame him for that. I couldn’t hate him for that.

  I could hate him for not trusting me, for making decisions about us without discussing it with me, and for abandoning me.

  And I could decide not to want to be with someone who would never put me first.

  It’s what I wanted. Even if that was selfish. I wanted someone who would put me first because I intended to always put them first.

  Just because Jack and I were having a baby didn’t mean I needed to give up hope of one day finding a man who would make me his entire world. Like how Jess was Cooper’s entire world. Like how Vaughn gazed at Bailey like she was miraculous. Like how Michael watched Dahlia as if he was afraid she might disappear.

  I wanted what my friends had.

  I wanted an epic love.

  I wanted a piece of the legend of Hart’s Boardwalk.

  “I never imagined raising my child alone,” I whispered.

  “You won’t be alone. One, you’ll have me and the girls. We will be the best aunties ever.” Jess squeezed my hand and touched her belly with the other. “Plus, your little one will be my little one’s best friend.”

  That thought made me grin, dispelling some of my sadness.

  “And second, Jack is many things, but he won’t abandon his child.”

  “I know.” I did know that. “But, Jess, I meant … I thought when this happened, I’d be in love and living with the father. It won’t be like that. Jack and I will never … we’re going to have to share custody.” Tears welled in my eyes again, and I was more than a little nauseated. “I’m sad. I’m sad that it’s happening like this. I can’t help it.”

  “Oh, sweetie.” Jess pulled me to her again. “It will be all right. We’ll see you through this. I promise.”

  I held on to Jess and that promise. I held on so tight.

  Iris had been pestering me for weeks to come to dinner. While she was trying not to push about why I was so low, I think she’d put Jack’s absence and my mood together and come to her own conclusion. Now and then, she’d drop him into the conversation, as if trying to read my reaction to the mention of him.

  I’d accepted her invitation because Ivy had promised she’d be there, and I thought maybe she’d take the heat off me. Of course, I’d made this promise before I knew I was pregnant. Having only found out a few hours ago, I really wanted to call it off, but I knew if I did, Iris would start pushing me to talk to her.

  They lived in a comfortable four-bedroom house in North Hartwell, a few blocks over from Jess and Cooper. Like all the houses in Hartwell, the home was clad with white wooden shingles, had a brightly colored awning, and a porch to while away the summer evenings.

  It was Ira who greeted me at the door with a kiss on the cheek and a glass of lemonade. Ever the host.

  “Iris is in the kitchen,” he whispered, “so I’ll say this quick. Warning: she invited someone else to dinner.”

  A niggle of uncertainty moved through me. “Who?”

  “Sebastian Mercier,” Iris announced as she strode into the hall, wiping her hands on her apron. She shot Ira a look. “Husband, you know I have bat ears.”

  “I don’t know how I could forget.”

  Her lips twitched as she turned to look at me. “Mercier is the chef who bought George’s old place and converted it into The Boardwalk. No one knows anything about this man or his seafood restaurant. He hasn’t attempted to get to know the rest of us boardwalk owners”—there was definite judgment in her voice—“so I thought I’d go over there, introduce myself, and invite him to dinner. His restaurant is opening in a month, and I think it’s high time we got to know this man.”

  I frowned. “I thought you weren’t concerned about his restaurant now that you know it’s a seafood place.” Iris and Ira had been anxious about another restaurant opening on the boards. They already had competition from Cooper’s with his pub grub, Paradise Sands with its fancy European restaurant, and Bailey’s inn catered dinner for its guests. However, they were less anxious about the competition now that they knew it was a far cry from a pizzeria.

  “Oh, she’s not,” Ira said dryly.

  “What am I missing?”

  “I just thought it would be nice to get to know him.”

  “And matchmake.” Ivy appeared in the doorway to the sitting room. “Hey, Emery.”

  I smiled because it was nice to see her. “Hey.” Then her words hit me. “Matchmake?”

  “Pfft. Lies.” Iris waved a hand at Ivy and wandered back into the kitchen.

  Ira shook his head at me and mouthed “truth.”

  Uh-oh.

  Following father and daughter into the sitting room, I asked quietly, “What’s going on?”

  Ira and Ivy exchanged a look, and Ivy sighed as she curled her feet under her on the couch. “Mom took one look at this chef and decided he was the perfect distraction for one of us.”

  There was that sinking feeling again. “For one of us?”

  “Yup. She thinks he’ll definitely decide he likes the look of you or me and it’ll be a distraction for whomever he chooses.”

  Hearing the sarcasm in Ivy’s voice, I smiled despite the uncomfortable situation I was about to find myself in. “And did
it occur to her that both of us might like him and that might cause problems between us?”

  Ivy grinned and shook her head. “I don’t think she thought that far ahead.”

  I rolled my eyes and sat down beside Ivy. “I’m not really in the market for a distraction.”

  “Neither am I.” She chuckled. “Let’s hope he doesn’t like either of us.”

  “Impossible,” Ira said. “I’ve got two of the prettiest girls on the East Coast right here. No man can resist either of you. His problem will be choosing.”

  Ivy shook her head, a fond smile on her face. “Dad, do you not see how backward it is to have a man come over to dinner to choose from your prettiest girls?”

  Ira winced. “Well, when you say it like that, it sounds backward.”

  Ivy and I shared a look and burst into laughter.

  It was much-needed relief from an exhausting, emotional day.

  I noted Ira watching us with a pleased gleam in his eye and suspected he was happy we’d become friends.

  Iris came bustling back into the sitting room with a tray of snacks and placed them on the coffee table before us. “Some predinner munchies.” She stood and placed her hands on her hips, her eyes coming to me. “You look a little pale, sweetheart. You okay? Is it the dinner guest? Did I go too far?”

  “No,” I assured her. “Although I’m not in the market for a French chef. I just haven’t slept well these past few days.”

  “Well—” She was cut off by the doorbell ringing. “Oh, there he is.”

  As she and Ira both moved to answer the door, I looked at Ivy. “I’m surprised he agreed to this. He’s been so mysteriously absent.”

  “Like a ghost. Bailey’s curiosity is through the roof. People have only caught glimpses of him coming and going from the restaurant,” she whispered.

  A deep, masculine voice sounded from the doorway. With an American accent. Huh.

  As if Ivy read my mind, she leaned in to whisper. “He’s French American.”

  Ah, okay. I nodded and stood with her to greet the Greens’ guest as they led him inside.

  Oh boy.

  That was one very handsome man.

  “Sebastian, I’d like to introduce you to my daughter, Ivy.”

  Ivy moved forward to shake his hand with cool aplomb. Sebastian smiled, and there was a little flutter in my chest. He had the most gorgeous smile, a bright flash of white teeth, smooth brown skin, dark eyes that glittered beneath Iris’s ceiling lights, high cheekbones, and a rugged, angular jawline. His dark hair had been shaved into a fade, accentuating the masculine angles of his face. Standing at least six feet with strong shoulders and a narrow waist, Sebastian Mercier was handsome with a capital H.

  Like clockwork, my cheeks grew hot as we greeted one another.

  Iris noted the blush and grinned like the Cheshire Cat.

  Dammit.

  Not long later, we were seated around the Greens’ dining table, and I was taken aback by Sebastian’s warmth and friendliness. Between not reaching out to the town upon his arrival, and the fact that he was this fancy chef from Boston, I’d expected him to be a little aloof. Silly of me, of all people, to assume such a thing.

  “My family used to vacation here when I was a boy.” Sebastian answered Iris’s question about why he’d chosen Hartwell to open a restaurant. “My family owned a French restaurant in Essex, and my mother didn’t like to leave it unattended. My father could only convince her to vacation here since it was close enough to hurry back if they needed to. It was the only time we had our parents’ entire focus for a full week. I have a lot of fond memories here.”

  “And are you married, Sebastian?” Iris asked.

  Ivy rolled her eyes and I hid my smile in a forkful of pasta.

  “I am not. Running a restaurant is literally a full-time job. There isn’t much time for dating.” He took a bite of food and once he’d swallowed, he commented, “This is delicious. I can see why Antonio’s is always busy.”

  It was the right thing to say. Ivy and I shared a grin as the Greens preened beneath the praise.

  “I’m sorry if I haven’t introduced myself to all the business owners on the boardwalk.” Sebastian cut me an apologetic look. “There just always seems to be something to do at the restaurant and time gets away from me.”

  “Oh, that’s understandable.” Iris waved off his apology as if she hadn’t been complaining about his “lack of manners” for months.

  “So, you’re single, then?” Ira pulled the conversation back to Sebastian’s personal life. “And looking?”

  Oh my God. Ivy groaned under her breath.

  Sebastian’s lips twitched. “Not right this second. I have the restaurant to focus on. Plus, I have a teenage daughter. She’s with her mom in Boston, but she’ll be joining me for a few weeks before summer’s out. I try to make sure she has all my attention when she’s with me. Although she doesn’t seem to enjoy spending that much time with either of her parents at the moment.”

  “You look a little young to have a teenage daughter,” Ivy said.

  “Thank you. She’s fifteen. Her mother and I had her when I was twenty-five.”

  “You’re forty?” I blurted out in disbelief. He looked ten years younger than that.

  He grinned at me. “Is that old?”

  “No, no.” Now I was blushing. “You just … you look about thirty.”

  His grin turned flirtatious. “Well, thank you.”

  “Those are some good genes,” Ivy added.

  Sebastian laughed, and it sounded a little embarrassed now. “If I’d known I would spend the meal being complimented by beautiful women, I would have arrived earlier.”

  “Oh, I like him,” Iris decided, making us laugh.

  My laughter was cut off, however, when a wave of nausea rolled through me.

  Oh no.

  I took a breath, trying not to be obvious about it … but the tide rose anyway.

  “Excuse me.” I shot from the table and hurried to the back hall to the Greens’ powder room. Seconds later I was on my knees, throwing up my meal in the toilet bowl.

  Groaning, I wiped my mouth with toilet paper and then flushed it all away.

  “Emery?”

  I looked up from the floor to find Iris in the doorway.

  “I think I ate something bad yesterday,” I promptly lied.

  She nodded. “I knew you were looking pale.”

  “I’m sorry, Iris. I need to go home.”

  “Ira will take you.”

  “No, I brought my car. I don’t want to have to come back for it.”

  “Ira will get it to you.”

  “Iris, I can drive myself home.”

  Her eyebrows rose.

  I’d never used that tone with her. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I like you assertive.”

  I smirked and pushed to my feet.

  Once I’d said goodbye to the concerned Greens and Sebastian Mercier, I felt guilty for feeling so relieved about getting into my car. But I just wanted to be alone.

  Feeling exhausted and looking forward to curling up in bed, the last thing I expected when I pulled up to my driveway was to see an unfamiliar truck already sitting in it. I looked from the truck up to the porch and another wave of nausea hit me.

  Oh my God.

  Jack.

  Jack was back.

  Today of all days.

  I trembled as I got out of the car, watching as he strode down the porch steps, a wary look on his face. He looked like himself again. Like the Jack I’d known when I first moved here.

  Driving a truck, wearing a flannel shirt, worn jeans, and construction boots.

  Our eyes locked, his soulful as ever.

  I didn’t trust that look.

  As attracted to him as I’d always be, as much as I’d always care what happened to him, Jack Devlin had finally, truly broken my faith in him.

  “What are you doing here?” I skirted pa
st him, making sure we didn’t touch, and hurried up the porch steps. My keys shook in my hand as I opened the screen door.

  “Em.” I heard his footsteps behind me and whirled to glare at him.

  My expression stopped him in his tracks. I knew I had to tell him I was pregnant. But I wasn’t ready to. I’d barely had time to digest the news myself.

  “I’d like you to leave.”

  He scowled. “We need to talk. It’s been seven weeks.”

  “Oh, I’m well aware.”

  “Didn’t you get my note?” He looked confused. “I told you I wanted to give you space—”

  “Jack.”

  He shut up.

  “Get the fuck off my porch.” I unlocked my door and let myself in, slamming it and the screen door behind me. I’d caught the look of shock on Jack’s face just before I turned my back on him.

  It wasn’t satisfying.

  None of this was.

  I was exhausted.

  Emotional.

  Drained.

  I flopped down on my sectional, kicked off my shoes, and curled into a ball. The tears leaked from my eyes as I listened to his truck pull out of my drive.

  24

  Jack

  Jack backed out of Emery’s driveway but he didn’t take his new truck very far. He parked on Main Street and strode along the boards to Cooper’s Bar.

  Agitation pumped through him.

  Worry gnawed at his gut.

  Fear made him feel a little sick.

  Leaving Emery the way he had was a massive mistake. When Cooper called to check on things, his old buddy had tried to tell him things weren’t right with Em. But Jack had been so sure giving her space to figure things out was what she needed.

  Oh, clearly, she’d figured them out. And she wanted not one thing to do with him.

  He winced remembering that angry coldness on her face and in her words.

  Jack had never heard Em talk like that. Never to him.

  Fuck.

  Every time he thought he was doing the right thing, it was always wrong. He was always hurting the people he least wanted to hurt. But that morning, weeks ago, when he turned up at the mansion to deal with his mom, he saw Rosalie Devlin truly broken for the first time. She’d endured a lot in her marriage, but discovering the depths of darkness within the family, the hurt inflicted on her kids, hurt Ian had used against them, broke her.