Wind Chime Café (A Wind Chime Novel)

by Sophie Moss

  Easing her elbow free from Blake’s grip, she fought back the urge to run across the street, scoop Taylor up, and take her somewhere far away from here. She didn’t want her getting hurt. She didn’t want her getting caught in the middle of this.

  “You had our daughter?” Blake stammered. “And you didn’t tell me?”

  Annie lowered her voice. “I did tell you.”

  “You told me you were pregnant,” Blake said, stunned. “You didn’t tell me you decided to keep the child.”

  Annie held his gaze. “There was never a question of whether or not I was going to keep her.”

  Blake cursed, dragging a hand through his hair. “I didn’t even know it was a her until today.”

  Annie watched his golden blond locks fall back into place. He still had the same classically handsome features, the same ocean blue eyes, the same lanky physique. She remembered how when they had first started dating, she had lit up inside whenever he’d reached for her hand.

  Now, she felt nothing.

  Looking back at the street, she watched Taylor turn the corner to Jess’s house. Over the years, when she’d imagined this moment, she’d pictured herself as a successful businesswoman. She’d pictured herself as the owner of an elegant French restaurant that had been written up in several popular food magazines.

  Blake would have come in for dinner one night, and she would have acted like she barely remembered him as she’d told him there weren’t any tables available, as she’d turned him away. She would have finally been able to throw his words back in his face: ‘You’ll never be anything more than a waitress.’

  But as she looked back up at him now, she felt a spark of anger—not at him—at herself.

  There was nothing wrong with being a waitress. There was nothing wrong with the path she’d chosen. Why had she wasted so much time trying to fit into his world? Trying to prove she was worthy?

  “We were kids, Annie,” Blake said as a truck drove by and the driver gunned his engine. “What did you expect me to do?”

  “I didn’t expect you to do anything,” Annie said calmly. “I didn’t ask you to do anything.”

  Blake stared at her. “You didn’t have the decency to tell me? To let me know you’d decided to go through with it?”

  No, Annie thought. She had never even considered telling Blake the truth. The day he’d given her the cash, she’d bought a bus ticket to D.C. She’d used the rest of the money to put down a security deposit on an apartment in Adams Morgan.

  Blake had been right about one thing—she couldn’t bring a baby up in the same apartment with her mother and she couldn’t afford to take care of them both. The owners of the restaurant where she’d been working in New Orleans had recently opened a sister restaurant in D.C. and she’d applied for a job.

  A few weeks later, she’d been serving overpriced martinis to senators and congressmen on Pennsylvania Avenue and raking in enough tips to save up for childcare so she could keep working after Taylor was born. She had never once looked back. “I did what I thought was best for my child.”

  “Don’t you mean, our child?” Blake countered.

  Annie shook her head as a gust of wind blew through the street, sending the chimes into a frantic spin. “We were never married. You have no legal claim on her.”

  Blake’s brows shot up. “I’m not sure the law would see it that way.”

  Annie felt a sharp prick of fear, but she stood her ground. “You said you didn’t want her.”

  “It never occurred to you that I might have changed?”

  “No.”

  “That I might want to be a part of her life?”

  “No.” Annie’s hands curled into fists. Taylor was hers. As far as she was concerned, Blake had lost any claim on their daughter the day he’d left her alone beside the ATM. She wasn’t going to let him waltz back into their lives after all these years, like nothing had happened.

  She would not let him hurt Taylor. She would not let him hurt either of them ever again.

  “You made your choice,” Annie said, turning. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work.”

  Blake caught her wrist, stopping her. “If you think I’m going to walk away from this, you’re wrong.”

  Annie turned slowly back around to face him. “I have nothing else to say to you.”

  Blake’s disapproving gaze combed down the front of her, over the coffee stains on her white sweater to the apron tied around her waist. “This conversation is not over. I’ll let you get back to work, but you and I are going to have a nice long chat later tonight.”

  “And if I say no?”

  “Then you’ll be hearing from my lawyer first thing in the morning.”

  The sunset painted the clouds crimson as Will drove into town. The café had closed fifteen minutes ago, but Della had promised to set aside two orders of chicken and dumplings for him to take back to the inn. Colin had laughed when Will had told him where he was going.

  They both knew the only reason he was headed to the café was to see Annie.

  He’d spent most of the day denying there was anything serious going on between them, but the truth was, he’d never felt this way about a woman before. For the first time since joining the SEALs, he was beginning to question the lifestyle he’d chosen.

  Blake Hadley had offered him an easy way out, a clean ticket back to his former life. But did he even want that anymore?

  He had no doubt that a lot of people on this island would benefit from an eco-resort. So far, everything Blake had said that afternoon had checked out online. But something still felt off. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he wasn’t ready to jump on board yet. At least, not until he’d talked to Annie.

  She may have moved here initially because of the resort, but was it possible she felt differently now? Was it possible the café was beginning to grow on her? He needed to know if her dream of opening a fine dining restaurant was still as important to her now as it was when they’d first met.

  If it was, then any thoughts he was harboring about keeping the inn would only stand in the way of her happiness.

  The last thing he wanted was to stand in the way of her happiness.

  Pulling into the parking lot of The Tackle Box, he cut the engine and stepped out of the SUV. A cold wind carried the first biting hints of winter. He looked up at the red sky, watching an osprey wheel and dip in the currents.

  He had one quick errand to run before heading to the café.

  Nodding to Don Fluharty, who was sitting outside on one of the benches drinking a beer and patching a hole in a nylon fishing net, he walked into the store and made his way to the wall of fishing rods.

  When he’d taken Taylor out on Ryan’s boat the night before, he’d given her a crash course in casting. But all the rods had been too heavy for her. If she was going to learn how to fish, she needed her own rod.

  He picked out a purple children’s rod and walked up to the register. He wasn’t sure how Annie would react to him giving Taylor a present, but he figured he’d take his chances. He wanted to give Taylor something to focus on, a new skill to distract her when the bad memories crept in after he left.

  Scanning the headlines of the newspaper while he waited for Don to make his way inside to ring him up, he couldn’t help overhearing the conversation between two women in the next aisle.

  “Did you get a good look at his face?” the first woman asked.

  “I did,” the second said. “You can definitely see the resemblance.”

  “I heard he wants to build a resort here. A resort! Can you imagine?”

  Will glanced up from the newspaper. They were talking about Blake. But how did they even know who he was? And who did they think he resembled?

  Turning, he tried to see who was talking, but both women’s backs were to him and their heads barely cleared the top of the aisle.

  Hadn’t he thought there was something familiar about Blake’s face when he saw him for the first time earlier toda
y?

  “Do you think he chose this island because his daughter lives here?” the second woman asked. “So he could spend more time with her?”

  Will frowned. Blake had a daughter who lived on the island? Why hadn’t he mentioned he had family here?

  “I don’t know,” the first woman said. “But it must have been hard for Taylor to grow up without her father.”

  By the time Annie pushed the last customer out the door, it was close to four-thirty. She’d managed to keep it together through the rest of the shift, but all she could think about was picking up Taylor and bringing her home before she overheard someone talking.

  She knew how fast gossip could spread on this island.

  “Leave the dishes, Della.” Annie untied her apron and dropped it on the counter. “I’ll deal with them later.”

  “Now, wait just a minute,” Della said, marching out of the kitchen. “Before you go, we need to talk.”

  “I can’t.” Annie grabbed her coat off the hook by the door, slipping her arms through the sleeves. Della had already asked her a dozen questions since Blake had left and she’d answered all of them as truthfully as she could. But she didn’t have time to fill in the rest of the blanks now. “I need to tell Taylor that Blake’s here before she finds out from someone else.”

  “I understand that.” Della crossed the room to stand in front of the door. “But no one’s going to say anything to her while she’s at Jess’s house. You need to take a few minutes to think about what you’re doing.”

  “What’s there to think about?”

  “You said Blake wanted to talk later. Why don’t you hear him out first? He might only be reacting from the shock of finding out he’s a father. He might not even want to meet Taylor or get to know her at all once he’s had time to process it. There’s no point in bringing her into this if he’s just going to walk away again.”

  Annie shook her head, reaching the doorknob. “He’s not going to let this go.”

  Della stepped back from the door, but her face was troubled. “Why don’t you let me keep her tonight? Joe and I will watch her while you deal with Blake. Once you find out exactly what he wants, we can take it from there.”

  Annie was touched Della wanted to help, but she needed to deal with this herself. She wasn’t naïve. Blake’s family was rich and powerful. People with that much money could do whatever they wanted. “He’s already threatened to call his lawyer, Della.”

  “Annie.” Della took her hands. “No one is going to let him take Taylor away from you.”

  A cold wind rushed into the room when the door swung open. Annie took one look at the expression on Will’s face and a wave of uneasiness swept through her. His eyes were so dark; they were almost black. His muscles were coiled, his jaw clenched. He stepped into the room and slammed the door. “Is this some kind of joke?”

  “Will.” Annie took a step back. He must have heard what had happened. Someone must have told him about Blake. “Let me explain.”

  His voice cut through the empty dining room. “Blake Hadley is Taylor’s father.”

  It wasn’t a question. It was an accusation. And there was nothing she could do to deny it. “Yes.”

  “Blake Hadley,” Will repeated, a muscle in his jaw starting to tick. “The man who wants to buy my inn and turn it into a resort?”

  When he put it that way, it didn’t sound good. It didn’t sound good at all. “Yes.”

  “Is that why you moved here?”

  “What?” Annie stammered.

  He took another step toward her. “Is that why you moved here? To this island?”

  “Will,” Della warned, but he didn’t even look at her. His eyes never left Annie’s face.

  “No.” Annie shook her head. “Of course, not. I didn’t even know the Hadleys had bought Morningstar until a couple of weeks ago.”

  “But you did know?”

  He was so close now she could feel the anger vibrating off him in waves. She had never seen him like this before. “Yes, but—”

  “Is this how you two play it?” he cut in, his words like ice. “You move here first, get to know the locals, butter up the owner, maybe even sleep with him so he agrees to sell. Then Blake comes in when you can’t close the deal?”

  Annie jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

  “I can’t believe I fell for it.”

  “How dare you?” Annie breathed as shock gave way to anger. “How dare you accuse me of trying to seduce you? I didn’t ask for this! I never even wanted this! Whatever this”—she waved her hand between them—“even is!”

  Will’s eyes were cold. “A lapse in judgment, on my part.”

  Annie staggered back, as if he’d punched her in the stomach. She could only stare as he turned, his long strides eating up the checkerboard tiles. “You’re not even going to give me a chance to explain?”

  He paused, his hand on the door. “Why should I? You’ll only tell me half the story anyway.”

  Annie watched him leave, watched him walk down the steps as the screen door slapped shut. How could he think so little of her? After everything they’d shared, how could he believe she would do this?

  A voice inside her screamed not to go after him, but this wasn’t just about her anymore.

  “Will, wait.” She walked out to the porch, her hands gripping the railing as he crossed the street to his car. “Don’t do this. Taylor won’t understand.”

  Will turned, his gaze hard and unforgiving in the fading twilight. “I’m sure Taylor would rather spend time with her father.”

  Blake stood at the window of his hotel room overlooking the St. Michaels Marina. Sailboats bobbed in the quiet waters. Historic homes lined the quaint neighborhood streets stretching away from the shoreline. A few tourists strolled the grounds of the Maritime Museum, snapping pictures of the lighthouse at dusk.

  After the initial shock had worn off, it hadn’t taken him long to realize that Annie Malone could be the answer to all of his problems. Not only was she still single—he’d noted from the lack of a ring on her finger—but she was the mother of his child.

  He could hardly believe his luck.

  It would take some explaining, some serious finessing on his part, to convince both his parents and Annie that it had all been a terrible misunderstanding, that he would never have let her go if he’d known she was planning to keep their child. But he’d find a way to spin it.

  He always found a way to spin it.

  Rocking back on his heels, he gazed across the marina at the weathered crab deck where a few hearty diners were huddled around a picnic table, picking the last steamed crabs of the season. Surely Annie didn’t want to work as a waitress for the rest of her life. And she couldn’t possibly have chosen to live on that island.

  As soon as things were smoothed out between them, he would talk her into coming back to New Orleans with him. He would set her and their daughter up a beautiful home in the Garden District. His mother would come by daily to dote on her grandchild, and his father would have no choice but to give him his job back and forgive all his debts.

  Everyone would get what they wanted.

  Turning away from the window, he walked to the desk and picked up the phone. If, for any reason, Annie refused, he could always threaten her with a custody battle. He had a feeling she would do anything to keep her child, even if it meant marrying a man who she thought had never loved her.

  Dialing the front desk, he waited for the receptionist to answer. All he had to do now was convince her that he had.

  “Good evening, Mr. Hadley. How can I help you?”

  “I need a reservation for two at seven o’clock at the nicest restaurant in town, and the phone number for the Wind Chime Café on Heron Island.”

  What the hell happened to you?” Colin asked when Will walked into the inn three hours later.

  Will dropped a bag of takeout from Wendy’s on the kitchen counter. “I went for a drive.”

  Riley came up and sniffed his hand, waggi
ng her tail. He fed her a French fry on his way to the fridge to grab a beer.

  “Will.”

  He stiffened at the female voice, but it was only Becca. She was sitting on the couch in the living room with Ryan, a pile of food spread out on the table in front of them.

  “I had to call in reinforcements since you left me here without a car.” Colin took the beer from his hand and popped the cap off with an opener. He handed it back, eyeing the Wendy’s bag. “I thought you were picking up dinner from the café?”

  “I was.” Will took a long sip. From the expression on Becca and Ryan’s faces, he could tell that they knew. Della had probably called them and asked them to check up on him since he wouldn’t pick up any of her calls. But they must not have said anything to Colin.

  Good. He didn’t want to discuss it with Colin. He’d already made up his mind anyway. It had taken almost three hours behind the wheel to calm down, but for the first time since coming back to the island over a month ago, he was finally beginning to think clearly.

  Getting involved with Annie had been a mistake.

  Walking across the living room to the chair beside the sofa, he sank into the worn leather. Ryan’s chocolate lab, Zoey, was curled up on the rug waiting for someone to drop a piece of food on the floor. He tossed her a fry and glanced over at the TV. “Who’s winning?”

  “The Red Sox are up by two,” Ryan said, handing him a basket of clam strips.

  “Who’s pitching?”

  “Lackey.”

  Will sat back, focusing on the game. If tonight was going to be his last night in this house, he might as well try to enjoy it.

  Colin continued to watch him from across the room. When Will didn’t say anything else about where he’d been or why he hadn’t picked up dinner from the café, Colin wandered over to sit in the chair on the other side of the sofa. “I told Ryan about the eco-resort.”

  Will popped a clam strip into his mouth, glancing over at Ryan. “What do you think?”

  “I’ve never stayed at one,” Ryan said, “but I’ve heard good things.”