When You Knew (The Cabots Book 3)

by Jamie Beck

  While she recited a long list of facts about Colt, Ian didn’t speak. He stood to the side, his only movement being the rise and fall of his chest. In other words, he’d transformed into a living statue.

  “Does he sleep through the night yet?” Smith asked.

  “Not really. He’d probably sleep better if I put a little rice cereal in his bottle, but the pediatrician says to wait. Normally, I don’t care much for rules, but I’m afraid to take chances with his health.”

  “My sister started her daughter, Mia, on solids ahead of schedule, but I think she was five months old at the time. I can’t remember for sure.” Smith held out his fingers for Colt to grasp and then smiled as he moved Colt’s arms around. Colt pumped his legs a few times. “Mia’s one now.”

  The fact that Colt had more cousins filled Gentry with warmth. “So your sister will give you tips?”

  “Her name’s Patty, and, yes, she will. She’s older. More like a mother than a sister most of the time.” He rolled his eyes in a good-natured way. “She’s got a three-year-old daughter, too. Cammy.”

  “She must be busy.” Gentry tucked her hair behind her ear, curious about his family but choosing to let him fill her in at his own pace. “You sound close.”

  “We are, but she and my dad live in Pasadena, where I grew up. I moved to San Francisco for work.” He spared her a brief glance. “What about your family?”

  “We’re all here in Lake Sandy. I have an older brother and sister. For the most part, we all work together at the family business.”

  “Cabot Tea Company.” He shook his head, although his attention remained on Colt’s expressions and gurgling. The familiar mixture of pride and resentment arose whenever Gentry discussed CTC, the entity that had given and taken so much. “When I saw that online, I about fell off my chair for the second time. You’re one surprise after another, Art—er, Gentry.”

  “Keeps things interesting, and fun,” she joked. She didn’t shoot Ian a pointed look, even though that comment deserved some emphasis.

  Smith smiled beneath a warm gaze. “I remember that about you, too.”

  Ian cleared his throat. The sound oddly soothed her. It smacked of jealousy, which meant he wasn’t nearly as unaffected by all this as he pretended. He cared, just like she wanted him to.

  Smith glanced at Ian. “Sorry.”

  “If you’ll both excuse me for a minute.” Ian wandered around the corner without another word.

  Once Ian disappeared, Smith lowered his voice. “What’s the story with you two?”

  “It’s complicated.” Nothing like the stark truth to slap her with reality.

  “How so?”

  “He’s Colt’s temporary nanny—long story.”

  Smith’s expression grew more intrigued. “He lives here?”

  “For now. He’ll be leaving the States soon. Humanitarian work.”

  “So you aren’t together?” He tickled Colt’s belly while speaking to her.

  “Like I said, it’s complicated.” Gentry picked at the threads of the corner of Colt’s blanket.

  “I’m not big on complicated. I prefer easy.” He winked, but she didn’t want to read too much into that remark. “Will you put Colt in day care once Ian goes?”

  “Yes.”

  Smith’s expression shifted. “Did you consider taking more time off from work . . . until he’s a little older?”

  Keeping a straight face, she replied, “Actually, I hoped you’d stop working for a few months and watch Colt so I can help launch my company’s new product.”

  She fought a smirk while she watched Smith’s reaction.

  “Sorry.” Smith flushed when he chuckled. “I forgot to mention my family’s half Neanderthal. Didn’t mean to offend you.”

  Big points, she thought. He got her dry humor and apologized easily. Two fine traits. All in all, things could be much worse. Now he studied her, wearing an odd grin.

  “What?” She self-consciously tongued her teeth, probing for lettuce or a poppy seed from her earlier bagel.

  He shrugged, humor lighting up his eyes. “You didn’t strike me as so career oriented when we met.”

  In truth, she’d been undisciplined and untethered at that point in her life. Rather than confess that, she defaulted to her favorite old saying. “Sometimes you’ve got to break the rules and set yourself free.”

  Colt kicked and wailed, as if realizing he’d lost their undivided attention. God, he was exactly like her.

  Smith pumped Colt’s legs and made googly-eyes at his son. Then, with a serious expression, he said, “Except in our case, breaking the rules didn’t set us free at all. In fact, it sort of tied us together for life.”

  Even in the kitchen, Ian couldn’t escape Smith’s presence. The man’s jovial, confident voice—his insufferable ego—consumed the whole condo. It’d probably linger after he left, saturating everything like cigarette smoke.

  “I didn’t expect to already be falling in love with him,” Smith exclaimed from the other room, the note of pride obvious to anyone listening.

  “He has that effect on people,” Gentry replied. Ian couldn’t decipher the tone of her voice. She teased all the time, but without seeing her face, he wasn’t sure if it’d been a deflection or something warmer.

  He crept to the kitchen door to spy on them.

  Smith was sitting up now, holding Colt in the air like he was inspecting a melon. The man’s crooked grin made him even better-looking.

  All week, Ian had held himself on a leash. Separated his desires and fantasies from reality and fairness. Considered the time Archer had spent with him, and the money they’d already raised and committed. The community awaiting their help. He’d weighed all of that against his feelings for Gentry and Colt, the suddenness of which made them seem an illusion that would surely end up disappointing all of them.

  And then there was Smith. His behavior suggested he might have some lingering personal interest in the mother of his child. If Smith was good for Colt and Gentry, Ian should walk away, happy that Gentry could create the family she wanted for Colt.

  But no rationale lessened the ache in his chest from being on the outside of the little family.

  Gentry and Smith caught him staring at them. Luckily, his phone rang, giving him something to do. He turned sideways, answering it without looking at the screen. “Hello?”

  “Ian,” came a familiar voice.

  The timing seemed significant. “Farrah?”

  “Yes.” She paused. “Are you free today? I need to see you.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, especially after seeing you last weekend.” Her voice wobbled. “We ended so abruptly I really want to talk. Can you come over, please?”

  He’d promised Gentry he’d stay here in case things went south with Smith. But things weren’t going south at all. In fact, he suspected Gentry thought things were rather looking up.

  “Ian?” Farrah begged. “Please.”

  He closed his eyes. Talking with Farrah about what went wrong might help him better understand his feelings for Gentry, and whether a relationship with her could fare better than the one with Farrah. “I’ll be right over.”

  He hung up and ordered an Uber before alerting Gentry. “I have to go.”

  “To see Farrah?” She raised that chin of hers like she did anytime she tried to hide her feelings.

  “Sorry. It can’t wait.” Ian crossed to the front door, eager for fresh air. “Nice to meet you, Smith.”

  Colt started crying, possibly picking up on the tension in the house. Ian slipped out the front door to wait for the Uber driver. He’d barely had time to close the door before Gentry came outside.

  “What’s going on?”

  He wanted to kiss her. To reassure her. To find a solution that didn’t require him to walk away. But he couldn’t make promises, so he said, “Farrah needs me.”

  “Why now?” Gentry’s nostrils flared. “And why do you care? Sh
e dumped you.”

  “I was a shitty fiancé.” He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand.

  Her jaw set, but she didn’t argue. “When will you be home?”

  Home. That either of them thought of her condo as his home seemed absurd, yet true.

  “I don’t know.” A black Kia pulled up to the curb. Ian reached out to touch Gentry, then let his arm fall. “You’ll be fine. Smith seems like a good guy.”

  “First you tell me things didn’t work out with her because she’s too needy. Now you’re ditching me because I’m not. Think about that, Ian.” She turned and went inside.

  Fifteen minutes later, the Uber driver dropped Ian at the circular driveway of Farrah’s place on SW Harbor Way. The center island bloomed with clustered red flowers. He stared at the beige siding of the four-story apartment building. Its appearance, neighborhood, and tiny balconies paled in comparison with the grandeur of Gentry’s condominium and setting. Still, he had warm memories here. It’d been a haven compared with his housing in Guatemala, Colombia, and Haiti. Farrah had always welcomed him home, her gentle touch and kind heart a balm to the horrors he often experienced while away.

  Now he shaded his eyes with one hand and peered at her balcony, where they’d enjoyed their morning coffee. Farrah preferred peaceful routines. A bit of a homebody, she’d been content to bake or read or do whatever Ian suggested. Easygoing. The opposite of Gentry.

  Doubts about his coming here assailed him. What the hell was there to say after he’d let her down in every way? Accepting his discomfort as penance for taking her for granted, he took the stairs instead of the elevator to buy himself a few extra moments.

  He came through the stairwell door and turned left, passing Mrs. Montana’s apartment. Farrah stood in the hallway outside her door. The pile of blonde hair on top of her head spilled over, partially obscuring her face.

  “Thanks for coming.” Her forced smile didn’t cover red-rimmed eyes. He refrained from asking what was wrong, because he knew, and he needed another minute to prepare for whatever she had to say.

  “Of course.” He stepped inside and scanned the living space. Everything was neat and organized, like always. No picture out of place, no shoes discarded.

  “I have a surprise, actually.” She waved him toward the kitchen. “I made peach pie yesterday. It’s really good.”

  Pie, his weakness, as she knew well. “Never could turn down one of your pies.”

  The praise earned him a genuine smile. While she busied herself in the kitchen, he took in the beige corduroy sofa, the simple oak dining table, the frilly drapes on the boxy little windows. It all looked exactly as it had last month, yet felt entirely different—foreign—after living with Gentry.

  “Coffee?”

  “Sure.” He heard the Keurig hum.

  “Seeing you standing here . . . it’s almost like you never left.”

  He looked at his feet to hide the betrayal of having already moved on. He shoved his hands in his pockets, his chest hollow. “Not sure what to say to that.”

  “Maybe that was part of our problem. We talked about so many things, but never about us except when we fought.” She plated a slice of pie. After setting it and a cup of coffee on the breakfast bar, she slid onto the stool beside him and watched him eat. It brought back memories of how she’d often sat there with him, smiling and chatting about her day. Her attention had been comforting and pleasant. A peaceful escape from the turmoil of his many journeys. He’d loved her—still did—but not the way a man should love the woman he planned to marry.

  He cut through the flaky crust with the side of his fork. She watched him take his first bite, her scrutiny making him self-conscious. “How are your folks?”

  “Fine.” Her eyes bore into his. “But let’s not waste time on that. Today I want to talk about us.”

  “Me too.” He sipped the coffee, which she’d sweetened with one teaspoon of sugar, exactly how he liked it. “I’d like to learn something from our mistakes.”

  She reached for his fork and sampled the pie. She’d done that a million times, too. “After we got engaged, I always felt like you thought I was holding you back from your plans. Tell me, why haven’t you returned to Haiti yet?”

  “I bought a one-way ticket home because I couldn’t afford the round-trip fare.” He’d been sinking money into the foundation, and assumed he’d have the engagement ring to hock to buy a flight back. “I stuck around to make some money and scare up some new donors.”

  Farrah slid a cautious glance his way. “Your new boss is pretty.”

  Ian nodded, keeping his eyes on the pie.

  “I didn’t see a wedding ring.” She shifted in her seat, dancing around the questions she really wanted to ask. “Is her baby’s father in the picture?”

  “He’s in California, although he’s here today visiting.” Ian took another bite of pie. The image of Smith and Gentry playing with Colt soured the taste of the pie’s sweet filling. “But I thought you wanted to talk about us, not Gentry.”

  “Sorry.” She scratched a spot by her ear. “So you’ll return to Haiti soon?”

  “That’s the plan.” The words came out on a sigh. “What’s really on your mind, Farrah?”

  “Are you happy?” She tipped her head. “Happier than when you were home with me?”

  He couldn’t give her the answer she probably wanted to hear. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “I want to know if you’re happy. Is C-VAC enough?”

  That question sounded different coming from Farrah than from Gentry.

  “Farrah . . .” He stalled, groping for the right words. “I’m happier knowing I’m not letting you down anymore.”

  “If you could do it all over again, would you do anything differently?”

  He hesitated, but the truth came to him forcefully. He wouldn’t have gotten engaged just to appease her. “I wouldn’t have made you promises I couldn’t keep.”

  “Was it me? Was I too boring or clingy or something? Is that why you were always running off?”

  Only now, when comparing the reluctance he felt about leaving Gentry, could he see that his lack of passion for Farrah might’ve been there all along. But he’d never hurt her with the truth. Not now, with nothing to gain. “You know I’m on a mission. You’ve always known that.”

  “I do.” She looked relieved when she clasped his hand. “I’ve wanted to apologize for the way I handled things, especially at the end.”

  “No need.” He patted her hand and then eased out of her hold.

  While she adjusted the loose knot of hair on her head, tucking stray bits behind her ear, he finished the pie. She cleared her throat. “Ian, I made a terrible miscalculation.”

  “Farrah—”

  “Let me finish.”

  He dreaded where this conversation seemed to be headed.

  “It wasn’t easy to worry and pray for your safety all the time, but I did it. When we finally got engaged, I thought you’d spend more time here. Get a job at a hospital. Settle down and start planning a family.” She frowned then. “When that didn’t happen, I got frustrated, even though you’d never promised to change. It wasn’t fair of me to expect that from you.”

  Maybe not, but Gentry had shown him that his expectations were hardly reasonable. “It wasn’t fair of me to expect you to settle for a part-time partner. You deserve more.”

  “But that’s just it. There isn’t ‘more.’ I love you.”

  “Love isn’t enough. We both know that.” He squeezed her hand, which she then clasped with her other hand. “There’s someone else for you.”

  She shook her head. “No, Ian. You’re irreplaceable.”

  “That’s not true. In time, you’ll meet someone new who’ll be a better fit for you and your life.”

  “I don’t want someone new.” She grimaced. “You know, I kept the ring because I thought you’d miss me and come begging for another chance. I never wanted us to be over.”

&n
bsp; As sorry as he was about her pain, he wasn’t coming back. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.” She swiveled to face him and gripped his thigh. “So you forgive me?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive.”

  Her round, blue eyes pled for a second chance. “Come home, Ian. I won’t ever ask you to change. I’ll stop teaching summer school and come with you for several weeks each summer, too.”

  Farrah was a sweet girl. The kitchen cupboards contained a menagerie of gift mugs and candles, proving how well liked she was by her students. She volunteered at her church and loved his mother. Had they stayed together, he’d have been faithful and content . . . maybe even happy, by his mother’s definition. But he would never have been happy by Gentry’s definition.

  That complicated woman who’d fill her home with love as fierce as her temper had blasted into his life and stolen his heart. She provoked him, challenged him, surprised him. Even if nothing permanent came from his time with her, he knew, now, the passion he ought to feel if he ever decided to marry. “You’re saying that now because you’re lonely.”

  “I’m not just lonely. I miss you, Ian. Don’t you miss me?” A tear rolled down her cheek as she hugged herself. Her weeping tormented him. If wrapping his arms around her would take the hurt away, he’d do it. But he couldn’t ease Farrah’s pain any more than he could give Marie back to Timmy, or his father back to his mom.

  He didn’t like to lie, but in this case a little fib would do more good than harm. “Sure, I miss you, but we can’t pick up where things left off. We both know, eventually, you’d grow unhappy again.” He clasped her hands after wiping her stray tear. “I’m sorry you’re having a hard time, but the break has shown me that you made the right decision, Farrah. Deep down, I think you know that, too. So please, don’t sit around here clinging to the dream of what you wanted us to be. Remember what we were and all the reasons you got fed up in the first place. We can’t be together anymore, but I’ll always love you, and I’ll always be your friend.”