Closer To You (Callaways Book 11)

by Barbara Freethy

  She really didn't want to ask why. She just wanted to get out of the conversation.

  "It wasn't just his affair with Catalina Moriarty and the child he tried to hide," Harry added. "He had a lot of other shady things going on. I never thought my good friend would betray me the way he did."

  "Apparently, my father's betrayals sneak up on you," she said, unable to keep the bitter edge out of her voice.

  As she finished speaking, a younger, more attractive version of Harry joined them. It had been a long time since she'd seen Harry's son Westley as well. He'd definitely improved with age, although he hadn't been bad at fifteen, when his brown eyes and sandy-brown hair had inspired a huge crush for her twelve-year-old self. They'd spent a summer holiday together, and she'd spent most of that time mooning after him. Of course, he'd barely noticed her. He'd been far more interested in her older sister Jillian.

  "Look who I found, Westley," Harry said. "It's Grace Donelan."

  Recognition dawned in his eyes. "Grace? Well, you really grew up." Appreciation ran through his gaze. "Last time I saw you, you were skinny, sunburned, and had a long red braid down your back."

  "Thanks for the flashback," she said dryly.

  "What are you doing here? Are you here with your father? I didn't think he was coming." Westley said.

  "No, I live here in Tahoe."

  "Seriously? That's quite a change from Ireland," Westley said.

  "Yes, it is."

  "Is your sister here, too?"

  "No, she lives in Sonoma."

  "Westley recently joined my company," Harry interjected, a proud gleam in his eyes.

  "I must say I'm a little surprised," she said. "I thought you were more into blondes than books, Westley."

  He smiled. "At fifteen I certainly was. But I found I could do well at both."

  She almost laughed at his smug reply. She should have figured he'd be as cocky as his father.

  "I'm on the business side of the company," Wesley added. "I leave the brilliant science to my dad. I make sure we're profitable."

  "Grace," Tyler said, drawing her attention to him, as he came over with the bear he wanted.

  "Did you pick one, Ty?" she asked.

  "This one," he said, holding out the brown bear. "He'll protect us."

  "Great." She took the bear, then looked back at the Fergusons. "It was nice to see both of you again."

  "Is this your son?" Westley asked.

  "No, he belongs to a friend. Have a good conference."

  "We should get together," Westley said. "For old time's sake. I think you still owe me an ice cream."

  "I'm fairly sure that's your debt. You're the one who knocked my cone out of my hand."

  "Funny, I remember it the other way." He gave her a charming smile. "Either way, maybe it's a little cold for ice cream; we could get a drink."

  "I'm sorry. I'm really busy this week. I hope you both enjoy Tahoe."

  "Seriously, you're just going to blow me off?" Westley asked, walking with them to the cash register.

  "I'm watching Tyler all week. I really don't have time for a drink."

  "Can't you leave him with a babysitter?"

  "I'm the babysitter, and I'm sure you have more important people to hang out with than me."

  "I hope you're not saying no because of what went down with our fathers. Their fight doesn't have to be ours."

  "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, handing her credit card to the cashier. "I haven't spoken to my father in a very long time."

  He gave her a thoughtful look, but before he could comment further, his father called to him.

  "Looks like you're needed," she said, glancing at the older, sophisticated blonde woman who had joined Harry. "Who's that?"

  "Senator Connie Barrows. She chairs the Senate Committee on Commerce, Science, and Transportation. I do need to say hello."

  "Of course."

  "Can I have your number, Grace? I'd like to find some time to catch up."

  She really didn't want to give Westley her number, but he was being persistent, and it was easier just to say yes. She had nothing against him; she just didn't want to be part of his world.

  After getting her number, Westley joined his father and the senator while she finished her transaction. She handed the bag with the bear to Tyler. "Do you want to hang on to this guy?"

  "Okay," Tyler said.

  "Do you know what you're going to name him?"

  "I think Mommy should decide. When do you think she'll be back?"

  "I'm sure it won't be too long," she said vaguely. "Let's go see if we can find Ian."

  "There he is," Tyler said, pointing to the front of the store where Ian had joined the Fergusons and Senator Barrows in conversation.

  "Maybe we should give him a second."

  "I want to show him my bear." Tyler pulled her along with his hand. "Ian," he said loudly. "I got a bear."

  Ian looked away from his conversation to give Tyler a smile.

  She was happy to see there was no annoyance on Ian's face. She could remember many times when her father had looked at her with irritation when she'd had the nerve to interrupt him. But Ian's expression was nothing but warm interest. As Tyler pulled his hand away from hers and ran to Ian, she could see that the little boy was clearly infatuated. She had to admit she felt a similar happy and giddy tingle when Ian's gaze moved from Tyler to her.

  There were three other people in their space, but she barely saw them. She just saw Ian. And that was a little terrifying.

  "That's a great bear," Ian told Tyler.

  "It's for my mom. He'll protect her when my dad's away."

  "He looks fit for the job," Ian said.

  "You know Ian?" Westley asked.

  "We met recently," she returned. "I'm sorry that we interrupted your conversation. Ian, we can wait for you by the door. Take your time."

  "I'm done." Ian glanced back at the group. "Senator Barrows, Mr. Ferguson—I look forward to hearing your speeches. Westley, I'm sure we'll see each other again."

  Westley tipped his head in acknowledgment.

  "I would like some one-on-one time, Ian," Senator Barrows said. "If you have some time?"

  "I'll make time," he replied.

  "Good. I think we might find some mutual interests."

  "Can I second that?" Harry asked. "I've been following your work the past year, Ian; I'm very impressed. You have a brilliant future ahead of you, and I'd like to be a part of it."

  As both the senator and Harry regarded Ian with genuine admiration, Grace had a feeling that Ian had downplayed some of his accomplishments to her. It took a lot to impress Harry, and she suspected the senator would be a tough sell as well. Westley didn't look nearly as happy with the praise being heaped on Ian. Maybe there was some jealousy there. Westley had always been super competitive, and she had a feeling that Ian was the kind of guy who won without even appearing to try.

  "I'll be around all week and I'm happy to meet up," Ian said, "but right now I have some sledding to do." He put a hand on Tyler's shoulder and gave her a smile. "Let's go."

  "Of course," she said, murmuring good-bye to the Fergusons.

  "Don't forget about that drink, Grace," Westley said. "You'll be hearing from me."

  She simply smiled, but she could feel Westley's curiosity following them down the hall. She didn't really care what he thought about why she and Ian were together. She wouldn't see any of these people in a few days. Once they left Lake Tahoe, her world and their world would never intersect.

  As they walked toward the parking lot, Ian gave her a speculative look. "You didn't seem that surprised to see your father's old friend and partner."

  "I spoke to Harry for a few moments before you got there."

  "How was that?"

  "Fine. He seems the same. He did make a point of telling me that he was sorry about my parents' divorce and that my father had betrayed him, too."

  "By doing what?"

  "No idea. I didn
't want to ask."

  "So you and Westley are going out for a drink?"

  Was there a note of jealousy in his voice or was she imagining it? "He said he wanted to catch up, but I don't think he'll call. Once the conference gets started, he'll be busy."

  "Do you want him to call? Is there some history between you?"

  "He knocked my ice cream cone out of my hand when I was twelve, and he broke my preteen heart by only being interested in my sister," she said candidly.

  Ian smiled. "I forgot you knew each other as kids."

  "Yes, but he wasn't at all nice to me when we were kids. Although, he just reminded me that I used to be super skinny, with braces and a long red braid down my back. No wonder he wasn't interested."

  "He seems interested now."

  "Oh, I doubt that."

  "Maybe you'll get a second chance," he suggested.

  "I don't want one. Westley was always cocky, but he seems even worse now." She paused, looking at Ian. "He didn't like it that the senator was giving you so much attention."

  Ian shrugged. "I don't know why. He's on the business end of his father's company from what I understand."

  They got into the car and for the next few minutes Ian focused on getting out of the parking lot.

  "I do kind of wonder what my father did to Harry," she murmured. "They were best friends for a long time."

  "You should ask your dad."

  "You know that's not going to happen. And what purpose would it serve? I'm sure my father would spin it in his favor."

  "Or he might tell you the truth. He seems very self-aware at this point in his life." Ian paused. "So where are we going?"

  "There's a snow park about fifteen minutes from here. They have sleds and tubes to rent. I feel a little guilty taking you away from your conference. Are you sure you wouldn't rather be at the hotel, rubbing elbows with your peers and the leaders in your industry?"

  "Plenty of time for that. Right now, I'm happy to rub elbows with you," he said, a sparkle in his eye that told her he wasn’t exactly interested in her elbows. "And Tyler, of course."

  "Of course," she said, her nerves tingling. Good thing she had a seven-year-old chaperone to stop her from doing something reckless and stupid.

  Seven

  God, Grace was pretty, especially with her cheeks red from the cold and her green eyes sparkling with happiness after their recent tube run down a moderately steep hill at Haywood Sno-Park.

  They'd been at the park for several hours, taking only a short break to grab lunch in the café before heading back out to the groomed sled and tube runs. They'd taken turns going solo and in doubles with Tyler, who was having a ball. The kid was a bundle of energy; he never seemed to run out of steam. Even now, he was practicing making snow angels.

  Ian turned his gaze from Tyler back to Grace and felt a punch in the gut when she smiled at him and dusted the snow off her jacket and out of her hair. She'd had a crash landing on her last run, ending up in the thick snow instead of on the tube.

  "That was fun," she told him. "I haven't been tubing in two years."

  "I could tell you were rusty."

  "You weren't exactly an expert."

  "I, at least, know how to stay on the tube," he teased.

  "I was distracted by someone yelling watch out. Wait, wasn't that you?"

  "I was catching up to you a little faster than I thought."

  "So you're to blame for my crash."

  "I would never admit to that."

  She grinned. "Fine. You think what you want—I'll think what I want."

  As long as she was thinking of him at all, he felt good. In fact, he didn't just feel good, he felt great. "I can't remember the last time I took a day off to do something like this," he said.

  "You mean live life?" she asked with a pointed gaze.

  "I guess you could say that," he admitted.

  "Fresh air and fun looks good on you, Ian. You should try it more often."

  "I might have to do that, Grace." Their gazes clung together and the mood went from light and teasing to something far more serious. "Thanks for inviting me along," he added quietly.

  "I think it was Tyler who invited you," she said. "But I'm glad you came. It was fun. You're very good with kids."

  "Probably comes from growing up in a big family. There are always a lot of children around."

  "Are any of your siblings married with kids?"

  "Mia, my youngest sister, was the first to tie the knot last year. Her husband Jeremy has an eight-year-old daughter, Ashlyn, so she's the first grandchild. My parents already love her to death. The rest of us are hoping that dampens my mother's craving to be a grandmother."

  "She gives you a hard time about that?"

  "If I let her corner me. But it's not so much about me having kids as it is about me slowing down, taking a breath, living life—as you just said."

  "She sounds like a wise woman."

  "She is."

  "Look what I made," Tyler said, jumping to his feet and waving his hand toward the impression he'd left in the snow.

  "That's great," he said. "I can definitely see the angel's wings."

  "Do you want to make one with me?" Tyler asked hopefully.

  Lay down in the cold snow and wave his arms? He suddenly wanted to do nothing else. "Sure. As long as Grace joins us."

  She gave a helpless shrug. "Why not? I'm already pretty wet."

  "Don't worry; we'll get you out of those wet clothes very soon," he promised, his mind immediately bringing up a tantalizing image of Grace in total naked beauty. He'd love to see if those freckles on her nose ran down the rest of her body.

  Grace gave him a warning look. "Do not go there, Ian."

  "Are you reading my mind?" he muttered.

  "You're not as complex as you think you are," she said, flopping down in the snow. "Let's make some angels."

  He lay down on Tyler's other side, and the three of them spent the next few minutes trying to make the best angels they could.

  "Yours is the best," Tyler told him as they got to their feet and surveyed their efforts.

  "Yours is good, too," he said.

  "My dad used to make good angels," Tyler added, shadows taking over his eyes. "Do you think he'll make some with me at Christmas?"

  Seeing the kid's desperate eyes, Ian really wished Tyler had directed his question at Grace instead of him. She might think he was good with kids, but that was more with fun activities, not deeply serious questions that he didn't know how to answer. "I know he wants to," he said.

  "Do you think he remembers how? It's been a long time," Tyler said.

  "Absolutely." His gut twisted at the pain in Tyler's eyes. It was bad enough that Tyler's father wasn't here but knowing that the man was fighting for his life made Tyler's innocent inquiries so much more difficult to hear. "You know what we should do now?" he asked.

  Tyler still seemed a little bummed and just shook his head and kicked at the snow.

  "We should make the volcano."

  Tyler's head picked up at that. "Can we?"

  "I have time." He looked at Grace. "What do you think?"

  "That's a great idea," she said, giving him a look of gratitude.

  "We'll need to pick up some supplies," he said.

  "There's an art supply store I use for classroom projects; they should have everything we need."

  "Let's go." Tyler ran across the meadow of snow toward the parking lot.

  "Thank you," Grace said, falling into step with him.

  "I don't know what you're thanking me for; I had no idea what to say. I mean, what if his dad doesn't come back?" he whispered.

  Her brows drew together in concern. "I'm trying not to think about that. But the more time that passes between Carrie's calls, the more I worry. I just hope no news is good news."

  They were only a few feet from the car when her phone rang. "It's Carrie," she said. "I need to take this."

  "Go ahead. I'll get Tyler in the car."

&
nbsp; As promised, he got Tyler fastened in his booster seat, then slid behind the wheel. He could see Grace talking, but she'd turned her back to them, and he couldn't tell by her stance what was going on. He hoped it wasn't the bad news any of them feared.

  "Who's Grace talking to?" Tyler asked curiously.

  "I'm not sure." He turned sideways in his seat so he could face Tyler. "What color do you think we should paint your volcano?"

  "Purple," Tyler said immediately.

  He laughed. He should have figured Ty wouldn't pick the more accurate browns or greens. But then, he was seven. If there was ever a time to have a purple volcano, it was probably now.

  He smiled to himself, thinking Grace had already rubbed off on him a little, with her talk of protecting innocence as long as possible. In theory, he thought kids were better off with truth and education, but looking into Tyler's angelic little face, he found that a lot more difficult to put into practice. It had been much easier crushing his little brother's dreams when he was seven. He hadn't known any better then, but now—now he was more in the mood to make a purple volcano.

  Grace got into the car a moment later. He could see the strain in her eyes, and he wanted to ask her what was going on, but he couldn't do that in front of Tyler. So he started the car and pulled out of the lot. "Which way to the art supply store?"

  "Take a left at the next street and head down to Highway 50. It's a few miles from here."

  As she finished speaking, she drummed her fingers restlessly against her thighs, and he impulsively put out his hand and covered hers. She started, and for a moment, he thought she might pull away, but then her fingers curled around his as she drew in a deep breath.

  He held onto her hand until he had to let go so he could turn in to the parking lot of the store.

  Once they got inside, he put Tyler in front of a display of fifty different paint colors and told him to take his time picking one out. Then he motioned Grace toward the end of the aisle so he could talk to her.

  "What's going on?" he asked. "Was that Carrie on the phone?"

  She darted a quick look at Tyler, who was a safe distance away. "No, it was Carrie's mother. Kevin has had another setback. Carrie doesn't want to leave his side."