Willow Brook Road

by Sherryl Woods

  Sam recognized that there was more to the question—that Mack, like everyone else in the family, was trying to figure out their relationship.

  “Carrie’s not my designated babysitter,” he said, keeping his tone neutral. He might be annoyed by the probing, but it was second nature to O’Briens and anyone connected to them. “She’s a good friend. Right now she’s trying to get her day care ready to open. She has plenty on her plate with that. She’s offered to pitch in when I need her, but I’m not going to take advantage of her.”

  “Susie seems to think you two are an item.” As soon as Mack spoke, he winced. “Listen to me. I’m turning into as bad a gossip as the rest of the town, trying to wheedle information out of you.”

  At least Mack obviously felt guilty, which allowed Sam to chuckle at his discomfort. “Very little information to wheedle,” he said with complete candor. “We’re exploring the possibilities and that is the last I intend to say about that.” He leveled a look that was intended to make Mack squirm. “Unless your role as my boss extends to my life outside the office.”

  “Nope. The topic is closed,” Mack said. “I should be getting home. Susie wasn’t looking forward to this whole book-club gathering. She was convinced the women planned to stage some sort of intervention.”

  “Are they qualified to do that?” Sam asked, startled.

  “Hardly, but it doesn’t matter to an O’Brien. When they perceive that one of their own is struggling with anything, they jump on the case. It’s a blessing and a curse. Right now, my wife considers it to be a curse. She wants to wallow a bit and, if you ask me, she has a right to. It’s not the wallowing that worries me half as much as the manic stuff that involves your nephew. Thanks for trying to overlook that or at least keep it in perspective. I’ll do my best to see that it doesn’t get out of hand.”

  Sam nodded. “Fair enough. I am sorry as hell about the whole adoption thing. Here the two of you are so anxious to be parents and I wind up with custody of my nephew. Life sure takes some unexpected twists.”

  “It does that,” Mack agreed. “I’ve given up on trying to figure out the plan and tried to learn just to go with the flow. Susie’s cancer taught me that life’s precarious and a smart person makes the most of whatever’s he’s given.”

  “Not a bad philosophy,” Sam said. It might be one he’d do well to follow himself, instead of questioning every unanticipated twist and turn.

  * * *

  Carrie had papers spread all over her dining-room table and a checklist which seemed to be growing, rather than getting shorter. When her cell phone rang, she answered it with an unmistakable touch of impatience.

  Her tone was met by an equally testy question. “Why aren’t you at my house?”

  Carrie stared at the phone in shock before answering. “Susie?”

  “Of course it’s me. It’s book-club night and everyone else is here and they’re all wondering what I’ve done to offend you. Of course no one has actually said a word, but I can tell by the way they’re looking at me. Is that what you wanted, to get the whole family on your side? It’s not enough that this great little kid just fell into your life?”

  Carrie sighed. “Susie, this is a conversation we probably need to have face-to-face, but certainly not tonight in front of half the family.”

  “Then you agree there’s a problem?”

  “I think maybe you’ve seen one that doesn’t exist, at least not from my perspective.”

  “So now you’re saying I’m, what, crazy? Imagining that you’re moving in on Sam and Bobby?”

  Carrie clung to her patience by a thread. “I’m not discussing this with you, not like this.”

  Silence greeted her remark. Then she heard what sounded like a sob.

  “Susie?” When there was no reply, just more choked sobs, Carrie tried again. “Susie, say something. Are you okay?”

  “Of course I’m not okay,” Susie said, a note of near hysteria in her voice. “If I were, I wouldn’t be acting like this. Carrie, I’m sorry. I truly am. I’ve gotten into this awful, dark place and I can’t seem to drag myself out.”

  Every bit of anger drained away as Carrie heard the sincerity and fear behind her cousin’s words. “I’m coming over,” she said quietly.

  “No, you were right. This isn’t the time to have some sort of confrontation.”

  “How about just a conversation,” Carrie suggested. “Every single person over there tonight loves you and wants to help. I want to help, but none of us know what you really need.”

  “I need a baby of my own, a child I can hold,” Susie whispered, a hitch in her voice. “And none of you can give me that.”

  “Connor desperately wants to help you find that baby,” Carrie told her. “You just need to tell him you’re ready to try again. Everybody in this family wants you and Mack to find the perfect child.”

  “I’ll take any child. He or she doesn’t have to be perfect. Goodness knows, Mack and I have our flaws. Irrational jealousy comes to mind.”

  “It was irrational,” Carrie agreed. “But understandable. Now I’m heading over there. How’s the supply of Ben & Jerry’s?”

  “There were at least six pints by my count,” Susie said. “Everyone must have thought I was teetering on the brink.”

  Carrie laughed. “I’ll bring a few more. One pint apiece seems about right on a night like this.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s ice cream. No big deal.”

  “No, for forgiving my craziness. You have forgiven me, right?”

  “Forgiven and forgotten,” Carrie promised. That’s what she hoped anyone in the family would do for her if she ever went off the deep end.

  * * *

  Sam found Carrie at the café first thing on Wednesday morning, sitting with the usual group of O’Brien women. To his surprise Susie was among them, looking more relaxed than he’d seen her since they’d first met. Maybe that intervention thing they’d supposedly staged had helped, after all.

  “Mind if I borrow Carrie?” he inquired, though he honestly didn’t expect any objections.

  “You don’t want to join us?” Bree asked hopefully.

  “Yes, do join us,” Heather said. “We wouldn’t mind observing the dynamics between you two so we could draw our own conclusions. Carrie won’t tell us a thing.”

  Sam laughed. “Good for Carrie.” He met her gaze. “Do you mind coming with me?”

  “To get away from these meddlers? I’m all yours,” she said eagerly.

  “Of course you are,” Bree commented with satisfaction.

  Outside, he studied Carrie’s face, smiling at the scattering of freckles across her nose and imagining how those probably irritated her. He couldn’t help wondering exactly when the sight of her had started to fill him with such an intense burst of happiness. He’d never thought of himself as lonely or incomplete, but that was before he’d met this woman who made him feel as if he were whole. Add in Bobby, and his life was full in ways he’d never anticipated. It was a little scary, but not so terrifying that he didn’t want to stick around to see what came next.

  “Okay, you’ve gotten me away from my family, for which I am profoundly grateful,” Carrie said eventually as they headed toward Shore Road. “What’s on your mind?”

  He regarded her blankly. “Nothing in particular. Why?”

  “You realize that makes no sense. You interrupted a get-together, dragged me away, and for what? You have no idea?”

  He grinned. “I spotted you inside at Sally’s and suddenly felt this need to have you all to myself.”

  “Really?” she said, sounding surprised, even as a smile seemed to be spreading across her face.

  “I can’t get enough of you, I guess. Do you mind?”

  “Since they were about ten seconds away from interrogating me yet again about our relationship, your timing couldn’t have been better from my perspective, though I imagine my disappearance just now will only fuel their already overactive imaginations.�
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  “Sorry.”

  She shrugged it off. “It’s what they do.”

  “How about a cappuccino?” he asked as they turned the corner. “I can get them to go at Panini Bistro and we can sit on one of the benches across the street. Do you have time?”

  Carrie nodded. “Sure. Jackson is at the church day care today and I’m not volunteering at Julie’s. I have a million and one things to do at my new building, but Grandpa Mick is overseeing that and the less time I spend underfoot, the better. His help comes with too many intrusive questions.”

  “So I’ve saved you on several fronts this morning?”

  “At least two,” she agreed. “Yay, you!”

  Yay, indeed, Sam thought. “I’ll get the coffees. Why don’t you snag a bench before the tourists grab them all?”

  When Sam rejoined her, she was staring at her cell phone with a frown on her face.

  “Problem?” he asked as he handed over her coffee, then sat next to her.

  She looked startled by his return. She quickly jammed the phone in her purse, the gesture oddly angry. “No,” she said tersely.

  Sam regarded her in silence and waited.

  “Okay, it was a text from Marc,” she said.

  “The designer jerk,” Sam said, drawing a faint smile.

  “Couldn’t have described him better myself,” she said.

  “What did he want?”

  “He wanted me to return his calls or one of the previous ten texts he’s sent overnight.”

  Sam felt his heartbeat accelerate in something that felt like panic. “Seems to be important.”

  She drew in a deep breath, then forced a bright smile that didn’t fool either one of them. “Not to me.” She glanced toward the bay. “It’s an absolutely beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

  The bay, sparkling with morning sunlight, was spread before them. The blue sky was dotted with the merest wisps of white clouds. Ospreys swooped overhead, then headed for impressive nests atop poles that had been erected specifically for that purpose. The town had installed them in an attempt to keep the osprey from choosing these waterfront benches for their nests, as they had one year, forcing the humans to remain at a distance. Bobby had told him about that. Apparently a delighted Davey had filled him in, while explaining that the osprey were protected.

  “Beautiful,” Sam agreed, though his gaze was on Carrie.

  “We’re moving into fall. I wonder how many more glorious days we’ll have like this,” Carrie said, her face turned up to the sun. “When it’s like this, I wish I could sit right here all day long.”

  “Courting sunburn?” Sam teased, touching a fingertip to her nose.

  “Enough SPF30 and I can sit here indefinitely,” she countered.

  “These freckles suggest you’ve forgotten it a time or two.”

  “Yes, well, Mom and Gram couldn’t always catch me before I got outside,” she said with a laugh, then suddenly pulled her cell phone from her purse.

  Sam regarded her curiously. “Are you going to respond to that text, after all?”

  “Not a chance. You just reminded me to add suntan lotion to my list of supplies for the day care,” she said, typing a quick note to herself.

  Sam plucked the phone from her grasp and tucked it into his own pocket. “Obviously my mere presence isn’t enough to distract you,” he murmured.

  Her eyes widened. “What did you have in mind?”

  “The same thing I’ve had in mind ever since the first time I did it,” he said, moving closer until he could claim her lips.

  The kiss was as intoxicating as he’d remembered, maybe even a little more potent. Champagne intoxicating, rather than beer, perhaps. Whatever it was, he couldn’t recall a single time in his life when a simple kiss had made him long to leap into something more than bed, something lasting.

  When he pulled away, he kept a hand against her cheek in a caress. “Just the way I remembered it from the other night,” he said. “Better even.”

  Carrie smiled. “Is my technique improving?”

  “No, you just get more infatuating every time I see you.”

  “Who knew you had such a way with words? Does Mack know about that? He’ll have you writing articles as well as designing the paper, if you’re not careful.”

  Sam chuckled. “Trust me, Mack does not inspire me to wax poetic.” He held her gaze. “I really want to kiss you again,” he murmured.

  “Why don’t you?”

  “Because I am suddenly very much aware that we are sitting in public in broad daylight just across the street from shops owned by your grandmother and Heather, as well as Luke’s pub.”

  “Good point,” she said, though her sigh suggested she was as disappointed by that as he was.

  “Maybe we could continue this later, someplace a little more private. I can’t abandon Bobby again tonight, but you could come over for dinner. Maybe hang out till after he’s asleep. Any interest?”

  “What’s for dinner?”

  “I think I can manage burgers on the grill and a salad.”

  “Why don’t I bring dessert? I’m thinking vanilla ice cream and some peaches. I found some at the farm stand yesterday, last of the season more than likely.”

  “Bobby will love that.”

  She regarded him with surprise. “Not you?”

  Sam winked at her. “I have a much more grown-up dessert in mind.”

  Carrie laughed. “Then you’re in for a big disappointment. Not with Bobby in the house.”

  He realized she was dead serious and sighed. “You’re right. We don’t want him to catch us in the act and start getting ideas.”

  “Exactly,” she said. “You’re starting to think like a parent.”

  “But I still want some of the perks of being a bachelor,” he told her, leaning in to steal one more quick kiss meant to hold him.

  “Patience,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She’d told Sam that before, but he certainly didn’t mind the reassurance. Because despite her enthusiasm for her day-care project and her avowed love for Chesapeake Shores, he couldn’t help wondering if someday down the road the allure of Paris or Italy would suddenly become too strong to resist. And with Marc Reynolds seemingly trying to get back into the picture, it was a concern he couldn’t seem to shake. Was Carrie as immune to the man as she seemed to be? Or did he have the power to hurt her yet again?

  * * *

  Carrie had been surprised by how much red tape was involved with getting herself licensed to open a day-care facility. She probably shouldn’t have been, given all the instructions Julie had given her. Maybe it was the fact that in so many ways being an O’Brien made life easy. Her grandfather was usually able to make hurdles disappear. Not this time. She was dealing with a new, by-the-books bureaucracy, and she relished the challenge.

  Between the paperwork, doing the renovations she felt were necessary to create a bright comfortable space for the kids, interviewing for help and doing background checks on her top candidates, keeping up with her online classes and still volunteering at Julie’s, she had precious little time for babysitting her nephew or the other O’Brien children who’d been coming around for the past few months. The few stolen moments she’d shared with Sam on the waterfront this morning had been a rare break from sending off forms, answering endless questions, establishing an account at the bank and going through catalogs for supplies. Everything seemed to take a lot longer than she’d anticipated.

  She was in the small office she’d carved out for herself in what had once been a walk-in coat closet and had just hung up the telephone after dealing with yet another request for information she thought she’d already supplied—in triplicate, in fact—when Connor wandered in to check on the progress. Since his law office was just up the street, his visits were pretty much daily. So were those of almost everyone else in the family, especially since her grandfather had assigned one of his crews to do the renovations she wanted.

  Today, thoug
h, she suddenly realized something was different. Connor had an envelope in his hand and a cat-that-swallowed-the-canary spark in his eyes.

  “Is that it?” she asked excitedly. “Am I legal?”

  “Mostly,” he told her, handing over the paperwork. “There will be a final inspection once all the work in here is finished, but you’ve passed all the screenings. The state of Maryland has deemed you fit to be trusted with children.”

  She grinned at him. “You sound surprised. I told you I was never in any legal trouble. I might have gotten into a lot of mischief over the years, but I never crossed a line. And unlike some people we could probably name, Grandpa Mick never had to step in and clean up any of my messes.”

  Connor scowled at her. “Hey, I had one speeding ticket when I was just a teenager. That’s it.”

  Her grin spread. “But it was in Grandpa Mick’s prized classic Mustang, which you did not have permission to drive, as I recall.”

  Her uncle’s scowl deepened. “My mother obviously has a big mouth. She was supposed to take that secret to her grave.”

  Carrie laughed. “Afraid not. We all heard the story. Grandma Megan seems to enjoy sharing it, especially when she knows it will get Grandpa Mick all riled up.”

  “Let’s stay focused on business, not my misdeeds, okay?” Connor grumbled in a way that reminded her of just how much he’d matured from those rebellious teen years.

  “Fine with me,” Carrie said, fighting for a more serious expression.

  “When were you hoping to open?”

  “Grandpa Mick says his crews will be out of here by the end of September. All the furniture and supplies are scheduled for the following week. I’d say we should be ready for that final inspection by mid-October, or November 1 at the latest. I’ve already had inquiries from a few people about whether I’ll be open in time to accept kids for the fall school holiday periods that parents can’t always get off from work. And I have a half dozen names of families looking for a permanent place for their toddlers that’s closer to home.”

  “You haven’t guaranteed anything, have you?”

  “Of course not. I’ve told them I’ll call the minute I have all the necessary approvals. I want to be careful not to take on too many children at once. With me being new to this and a new staff, I can’t risk us being overwhelmed and making mistakes. To be honest, I’d be happy enough to get open by the end of the year once I’ve finished my classes and gotten in a few more weeks of working with Julie.”