Harlequin Superromance February 2016 Box Set

by Anna Sugden

  “Yeah, sure, that sounds good.”

  “All right. We can talk times later. I wanted to give you a heads-up, so you can start planning.”

  “Yeah, thanks, this is great. Really. I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow.”

  He nodded, his eyes and concentration back on his cooking. She walked out of the restaurant holding her breath, afraid if she made a wrong move it would all crumble underneath her.

  She’d done it. Full-time pie making for an actual restaurant. Her own business. Contracts. Thank God for Mia’s and Wes’s help and advice and experience, or she’d be lost, but regardless...

  She’d done it. Sitting in the driver’s seat of her little car, she did a full-on bootie dance. She was queen of the damn world.

  She pulled out her phone to call Mia, then thought maybe she’d tell her tomorrow. A happy announcement on the last day of the market. Something to celebrate along with another successful season.

  Yeah, that’s what she’d do. Tonight she’d head out to Wes’s and really celebrate. She flipped on the radio and sang the entire way home to pick up Sweetness and change into sexier underwear. Then she sang herself hoarse all the way to Wes’s.

  She couldn’t believe the thought popped into her head and didn’t cause more than a tiny bubble of panic, but she realized she wouldn’t mind living here. The pretty, peaceful solitude that didn’t translate to lonely because of Wes, the dogs, even the asshole sheep.

  Crazy. Crazy to think this thing with Wes, this relationship, this long-term relationship, could be even more long-term. Even more serious. Even crazier that she wasn’t totally averse to the idea. In fact, she liked it. She wanted it.

  She was ready for something more. For a future. To believe in the possibility of not screwing it up or screwing it up only enough that they could always fix it.

  When she rounded the last curve and the entire space came into view, her giddy excitement died.

  There was a car sitting next to Wes’s truck. Her stomach rolled. She’d never seen another car parked there. Ever. Who could be visiting him?

  Sweetness whined and pawed at the window until Cara crawled out of the car.

  There was a possibility this wasn’t an innocuous visitor, given how rarely Wes had any. She walked up the porch stairs. She’d gotten in the habit of bursting in unannounced, but she felt hesitant now.

  She knocked.

  Wes pulled the door open, such a range of expressions on his face it would take her a few minutes to decipher them all.

  But when he stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him, she didn’t want to know what any of them were.

  “What’s going on?” she demanded.

  He scratched a hand through his hair. “It’s my mother. She dropped by.”

  It wasn’t that she didn’t believe him, it was just... Why was he being so weird about it? “She ‘dropped by’ all the way from California? And you’re not going to introduce me?”

  “Um, no. I’m not.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. It hadn’t escaped her notice that the few things she knew about Wes’s childhood were not happy. He almost never mentioned his mother, so maybe they had a terrible relationship that he didn’t want to drag her into. She should accept that and leave. Give him space.

  But she couldn’t. She was tired of accepting these nonanswers from him, and she didn’t want to keep hoping for more and coming up short or convincing herself it didn’t matter. Because it did. It so did. That sparkly possible future she’d been so sure of minutes ago faded.

  So, she didn’t leave. Instead, she fisted her hands on her hips. He’d pushed her once. Well, now it was her turn to push him. “Why the hell not?” If he wasn’t going to introduce her, the least he could do was explain why.

  * * *

  WES COULD ONLY blink at Cara. He’d known she wouldn’t be happy the minute he’d opened the door, but he hadn’t expected a challenge. Demands. He’d expected sadness and hurt. That aching pain in his chest when he saw those things on her face. But he had not expected her anger.

  And he was still wrapping his mind around Mom showing up out of the blue. Three o’clock on the twenty-third, because apparently she’d told him she was going to.

  He had a headache. “It’s complicated.”

  “Not an answer.”

  Why was she pushing this? Why couldn’t she go home and let him deal with one thing at a time? “She surprised me. I need some time to—”

  “To push me away. Pretend this part of your life doesn’t exist. Pretend—” she shook her head “—I can’t keep pretending with you, Wes.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  She took a deep breath. One of those scary deep breaths where you knew the person doing the deep breathing was considering punching your lights out. Or irrevocably breaking your heart. “Think really hard about lying to me.”

  “I’m not lying to you.”

  “You don’t pretend with me, ever? Pretend your arm doesn’t hurt or your conference call is so important I can’t even be in the same house? Tell me you don’t pretend business, so you don’t have to ever meet my family.”

  “All of those are legitimate reasons I have for—”

  Without warning, she pushed past him, flinging the door open and storming inside. What was she doing? He scrambled after her, but she’d already found Mom standing wide-eyed in the living room.

  “Hi, Wes’s Mom. I’m Cara.”

  At Mom’s confused look, Cara’s eyes went wide; her nostrils might have even flared. “Seriously?” she demanded of him. “You couldn’t even mention my name?”

  “Cara—”

  “Oh, so you are capable of uttering those two syllables. Great.” She turned back to his mother. “Hi. Like I said, I’m Cara. Your son’s assistant and his girlfriend for a little while there, but I think both are coming to a close, actually.” She squared her shoulders. He’d never seen her angry like this. Full guns blazing. No self-defeat or frustration, just anger.

  Threatening to break up with him.

  “I want to tell you that he needs surgery. He’s been ignoring it, but the nerve damage in his arm has been hurting him more and more and I haven’t wanted to push because—” her shoulders slumped a little “—I don’t know. A lot of reasons. You know when you care about someone and you don’t want to hurt them and you swallow down these things? But then that hurts you? Anyway, that’s what I’ve been doing, and I’m done. So, please, make sure he schedules it. He needs it.”

  Then, without sparing him a glance, she turned on a heel and stalked out. She was breaking up with him.

  Well, we knew that was going to happen. The defeatist voice in his head only served to piss him off. He didn’t know that. He had been making plans. Kind of. Fuzzy maybe-plans, but still plans.

  Cara could not break up with him just because he wanted a few things ignored or pretended or whatever.

  “Cara.” He jogged after her, catching up with her on the porch. “Please, understand.”

  She whirled on him. “You know what? I do understand. A lot, actually. There are some things you want to keep me separate from. Keep yourself separate from.”

  Relief washed over him. For as angry as she was acting, she understood. “Yes! Exactly. So—”

  “I can’t do this. I can’t keep pretending. Pretending I don’t want more. Pretending it doesn’t hurt. I thought I was pretending because I didn’t want to cause you pain, but I was pretending, I think, because I knew if I pushed, you wouldn’t give.”

  “There’s nothing to push. The things... The things I don’t talk about with you are separate. Like you said.”

  “Separate from what?”

  He tried to make sense of her question. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

  “Exactly. The thing is, if there’s an us, if there’s ever going to be love and whatever involved, there’s no separate. I mean, yeah, you don’t have to share every detail of your childhood, and I don’t need t
o recount every guy I ever slept with, but I should get a say in your surgery and be able to ask you to actually interact with my family.”

  “But those are such small things. Not imp—”

  “They’re important to me.” She fisted her hand over her heart. “You pushed this all those months ago. I panicked and ran out and you pushed. Do you remember that?”

  “Of course, I—”

  “If you still want what you wanted then, you have to let me into everything.”

  He didn’t even open his mouth this time. What was there to say? She wanted everything, and he didn’t want to give it. Even now, he didn’t want to fold her into the body stuff, the Mom stuff, and he didn’t want to be folded into her family stuff.

  He wanted what they had now. It was good enough for him. Better than good enough. It was great. Why did she want to change it?

  “I’m going to go. I’d offer to help find my replacement, but—”

  “You can’t quit,” he said weakly.

  “Your business will survive without me.”

  “But you’ve done so much, made it better. You shouldn’t quit over us.”

  The weariness on her face morphed back into anger so fast he blinked, not even understanding how he was setting her off now.

  “Oh, shouldn’t I?” She poked him in the chest, exactly the way he hated. “Sam offered me a full-time supplier contract. I don’t need your part-time job anymore, and, yeah, I’d probably keep working it if you weren’t so dang clueless, but I can’t come here every day...” She trailed off, tears filling her eyes. “I can’t come here three days a week loving you and knowing you can’t do it back.”

  He reached for her arm. “But I do, I do.”

  She shook her head, tears spilling over. “You don’t have a clue. You can’t say it. You can’t let me in. You can’t... Screw your job, Wes. And this stupid cabin and that ridiculous beard and your dogs—no, I love them. But the rest. Screw you and the rest.”

  She stomped down the stairs, but he didn’t know how to go after her this time. She said she loved him. Loved him. And he’d said he loved her, too, kind of. But she was still walking away. Still driving away. Still gone.

  How did that make any sense?

  There was a hard lump in his throat, a constricting band around his lungs.

  Mom stepped out. Phantom slunk from the door to sit behind Wes.

  “Things didn’t go well, I take it?”

  “No.”

  “She’s pretty.”

  “She’s...” Everything. “Gone.”

  “Well, I’m sure you can work it out. You need some time. Both of you. Cool off. Have a calm, rational discussion. Dustin and I—”

  “Don’t.” He turned away, gripping the railing of the porch. He could not listen to his mother’s relationship advice. Could not listen to her talk about her one true love of a husband.

  He wanted nothing to do with that.

  “Is what she said true? You need another surgery?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it handled.” If he chose to handle it by pretending, so be it. He’d been broken by a damn bomb fighting for his country. He got to pick how he dealt with that. Not some woman.

  Whom you love.

  “She made it sound as though, maybe—”

  “I said I’ve got it handled. I do. I have since the beginning, haven’t I?”

  “Yes, of course.” She was quiet for a long while, and he stood there, gripping the railing. Maybe if he squeezed hard enough and the pain dug deep enough, he’d be able to find some way of fixing things.

  I can’t come here three days a week loving you and knowing you can’t do it back.

  But he did love her. How could she not see that? Why did she have to want the parts of him he could only deal with alone? Closed off. Safe. Where no one would have to see how badly he failed.

  This wasn’t the same as when she’d panicked, because he wasn’t walking away from her. He was asking her to stay out of certain things. That wasn’t the same at all.

  “I could be here when you have it done. I could help.”

  “I wouldn’t want to take you away from your family.” He winced at the disgust in his own voice. Not exactly the way to pretend it didn’t matter.

  I can’t keep pretending I don’t want more. Why would she want more from him? He gave her all the best parts of himself.

  “You’re my son. I’ll always be available when you need me.”

  He tried to keep his mouth shut. Will it away. The anger, the pain and the hurt that lie caused, but the day had been too much, and he didn’t have any reserves left. He whirled around to face her. “You left me! You abandoned me for a whole new family. Don’t pretend I’m more important than they are.”

  Her face crumpled, tears slipping down her cheeks. “You wouldn’t let me anywhere near you when you got back. You didn’t want to come to California. What was I supposed to—”

  “Push! Be here! Make me come anyway. Not throw money at me and hope I disappeared.”

  She turned away from him, stepping toward the door. “We shouldn’t be yelling. I didn’t come all this way to argue with you. Let’s just—”

  “Forget it. Ignore it. Pretend it doesn’t exist. Yup. Sounds good.” Exactly what Cara accused him of. Well, at least he came by it honestly.

  She turned, her hands clasped in front of her. “You are my son,” she said in her calm, let’s-keep-the-peace voice. “I did everything I could to provide for you, and I know it wasn’t enough. I know everything that’s happened is my fault.” Her voice broke. “Don’t think I don’t know that.”

  He slammed his good fist against the railing. “It’s nobody’s fault! It’s just bad luck, damn it.”

  “I was supposed to be able to care for you. Give you the things I never had. I failed. That isn’t luck—”

  “What were you supposed to do with a kid and not even a high school diploma? You did everything you could, and I never resented it. Never.”

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t resent me when you signed up for the army. Don’t tell me—”

  “Resent you? I wanted you to be proud of me. That I wouldn’t screw anything up. I wanted to show you I could be better.”

  Mom sank onto the little bench next to the door, her hand covering her mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy,” she managed to croak out.

  He was making everyone cry? Screwing everything up. Typical Wes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  IT WAS NO use trying to pretend she hadn’t cried the entire way back into town. She was a blotchy, red-eyed mess. She could try to makeup it away, but even if she fooled Mia, she’d probably break down the minute she got the words out of her mouth.

  The worst part, the part that kept her crying, was the little voice inside her head telling her she’d messed this up. She should have handled everything differently.

  Was it so wrong to need more from him? To be let in, to hear that stupid L word instead of “I do, too.” Oh, blech, that made her mad all over again.

  She pulled her car up to Mia and Dell’s place on the edge of Dell’s family property. The Wainwright farm wasn’t much different than the Pruitt farm. In the early fall, it was a beautiful maze of just-turning leaves and green hills and the last fruiting plants of the season.

  But it made her think about Wes’s place and what an idiot she’d been to think she could live there at some point And have what Mia and Dell had.

  No, she was not the idiot. He was. They could have kept working toward something like this, but, nooo, he had to be him.

  She forced herself out of the car, Sweetness following and sniffing every little blade of grass.

  Maybe she should have gone home and wallowed alone. Mia was two weeks away from wedded bliss. Did it make Cara a crap sister to want a little comfort now?

  Probably. But Anna wouldn’t be back home for another week, and talking to Mom was so not an option.

  O
h, damn him for changing her. Things were so much simpler when she didn’t care about anything.

  Yeah, but you weren’t happy.

  Screw happy. She wasn’t happy now. Why couldn’t he have let her walk away when it wouldn’t have hurt nearly this bad?

  She knocked lightly on Mia’s door. She heard voices. Laughter. She closed her eyes. Oh, why had she thought coming here would help?

  Mia opened the door, a smile on her face, her clothes and hair looking a little rumpled.

  “Cara, hey.” Her smile immediately died. “Oh, what’s wrong?”

  Cara could see Dell shirtless in the background. She backed away from the door. “You guys are busy. Ignore me.”

  “You’re crying.” Mia grabbed her arm so she couldn’t bolt.

  She tried to pry herself away. “I’m interrupting.”

  “You are not.”

  “He’s shirtless.”

  Mia glanced back at Dell and rolled her eyes. “He’s always shirtless. Come on inside.” Mia pulled, surprisingly forcefully for all five foot barely anything of her. Or maybe Cara just really wanted to be led.

  “Sorry,” she offered to Dell.

  He shrugged, an easy smile on his face. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

  Mia propelled her toward the kitchen. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

  “I just...” Cara cleared her throat and tried to get the words out without crying or squeaking. “Broke up with Wes.” And failed on both counts.

  Mia’s arms wrapped around her. “Oh, I’m sorry. What’d the jerk do?”

  Cara leaned onto Mia’s shoulder. “Just jerk stuff.”

  “Need me to beat him up for you?”

  She lifted her head from Mia’s shoulder and offered Dell a smile. That was nice. No one had ever threatened to beat someone up for her. Except Wes. Which made Dell’s offer momentarily tempting. “No. Thanks.”

  “All right. Well, I’ll make myself scarce, then.”

  “You don’t have to—” But he was already gone. “He doesn’t have to go. This is his house. I—”

  “Go sit on the porch. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get us something to drink.”

  She was too exhausted and heartachey to argue, so she went to the porch and settled herself on the stairs. All around her were trees and farmland and...home.