Harlequin Special Edition July 2013 - Bundle 1 of 2: Marooned with the MaverickHer McKnight in Shining ArmorCelebration's Bride

by Christine Rimmer

  “Not immediately,” he said. “Like I said, my dad is retired military. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps and join the service. I did. Not so much for the footsteps thing. I mean, serving my country was important to me, but it was also the only way I would be able to go to college without getting into debt over my head.”

  “What branch of the service?” she asked.

  “Army.”

  “How long did you serve?”

  “Four years. Then I got hurt and was discharged and then I went to college.”

  “Did you know A.J.’s husband, Shane, is in the army? He’s made a career out of it. In fact, he was supposed to retire right after he and A.J. got married, but the army keeps finding things for him to do.”

  “No, I didn’t know that he’s an army man. He wasn’t at the tasting on Thursday night, was he?”

  “No, he’s been out of town for a few days.”

  She sighed and made a face.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She waved away his question. “It’s nothing.”

  “I explained my not-so-happy homecoming face,” he said. “Since I’ve basically been an open book for the past,” he pulled up his sleeve and glanced at his watch, “three and a half hours, it’s your turn to share.”

  “Oh, my gosh, have we been here that long?” she asked. “I don’t want to monopolize your entire Saturday.”

  “Why not?” he asked. “I was hoping to monopolize yours. And don’t think that I didn’t notice how you’re trying to change the subject on me.”

  He smiled at her, loving the way that she looked down but then back up at him through long, dark lashes.

  She nibbled at her bottom lip, and he could see the wheels turning in her mind, the virtual weighing of whether or not she’d share.

  “So hypothetically speaking, of course,” she finally said.

  “Yes, hypothetically, of course.”

  This time her mouth curved in a smile of surrender.

  “What would you do,” she said, “if a friend asked you to do something you didn’t think you could do?”

  “Is this a peer-pressure situation?”

  “What? No, now be serious. You asked me to tell you, but I’m not going to if you’re going to make a joke out of it.”

  He sobered. “I’m sorry. I was trying to be funny, but it obviously didn’t translate.”

  “Yes, don’t quit your day job to pursue comedy.”

  He nodded. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll take that to heart. Who’s trying to make you do something you don’t want to do?”

  She grimaced. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s more that I’m afraid I’m not capable.”

  Recognizing that this truly did seem to be causing her pain, he turned toward her and gave her his full and serious attention.

  “Could you tell me more about the situation?” he said. “I’m having a hard time believing that there’s much that you’re not capable of.”

  She stared at the bowl of dessert that was slowly melting and set down her spoon. “A.J. asked me to be her Lamaze coach and her baby’s godmother.”

  “Isn’t her husband supposed to be the Lamaze coach?” Miles asked. “I’ve heard that’s how dads feel they’re a part of the birthing situation.”

  “I see you know your Lamaze. Is there something else you’re not telling me?”

  The way her eyes sparkled made his heart clench.

  “Yes, that’s why I asked you to have lunch today,” he said. “I needed to tell you, I’m pregnant and you’re the mother.”

  Sydney held up her free hand. “Haha. Sorry, honey, you’ll have to go that one alone. I’m not mother material. That’s exactly the point I’ve been trying to make A.J. understand and she won’t hear it. I could probably handle the birth coaching part if she couldn’t find anyone else. Really, I’d just be filling in on the slim chance that her husband is deployed before she goes into labor. But the godmother part. That’s for life. I just…don’t think I can.”

  “So, you’re serious about not wanting to have kids?” he asked. It shouldn’t matter, but somehow it did. In a flash, he saw her holding Miles Mercer V. Visions of the three of them as the perfect, happy family. But that was ridiculous and he shook the thought away.

  “No.” The single word she uttered was so quiet, it was barely perceptible. There was a sadness in those two letters and it seemed to suggest her outlook on her entire future.

  Miles would’ve let it go—he knew he should let it go—but Sydney didn’t seem happy about this definitive verdict.

  “I know this is none of my business, but is that because you can’t have children or you don’t want them?”

  “The latter,” she said. She didn’t seem as if she minded him asking. That’s how this entire day had gone. Each of them asking tough questions and the other openly offering candid answers. “As far as I know I’m not infertile. Not that I’ll ever put it to the test. But that’s beside the point. I wouldn’t make a good mother. Therefore, I wouldn’t make a good godmother to A.J.’s baby. But she won’t hear of it.”

  He wasn’t quite sure what to say, how to advise her.

  “Does she know about your job interview?”

  Sydney snapped her head to look at him, her eyes wide. “No, I haven’t told her. I’m sure I probably don’t have to say this to you, because I trust you, but please don’t mention anything about it to anyone. The verdict on whether I get the second interview will come in due time, I’m sure, and if I don’t get a callback, there’s no sense in getting everyone in an uproar. Especially with this latest Lamaze/godmother twist. That adds an entirely new wrinkle to the matter.”

  “Hypothetically speaking,” he said. “Let’s say that you don’t get the job.”

  She shot him a look. This time he was the one who held up his hands in self-defense. “I know, it’s unheard of, but let’s just say for the sake of argument, the king of St. Michel wouldn’t recognize a jewel if it fell out of his crown and he passes you over for some baboon—”

  “The queen,” she said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s the queen of St. Michel who holds the power. She’s the one with royal blood. She actually married her security guard, which I find very romantic. But she’s the one with the power and the jewels and I’m fairly certain that she can, in fact, discern the difference between a jewel and a baboon. She’s somewhat of a friend. Or should I say, a strong acquaintance.”

  Okay, so smart, beautiful, funny and well connected. This woman was the entire package.

  “I said we were speaking hypothetically. I didn’t mean to insult your friend-acquaintance. But what I was getting at was, if by some fluke you don’t get the job, will you agree to be her Lamaze coach?”

  Sydney pursed her lips, and looked as if she were giving the possibility its due diligence.

  “I suppose I could agree to that, but just the coaching gig. Not the godmother part. Because her baby deserves better than me and what I can offer…” She trailed off and her gaze became far away.

  He reached across the table and took her hand. “I don’t understand why you would say that,” he said. “You have a lot to offer.”

  She inhaled a deep breath, but she didn’t let go of his hand. “I’ve not had much experience with family.”

  She looked so sad.

  “What do you mean?” She’d mentioned she didn’t have a big family growing up. Was she estranged from her folks? Really, he couldn’t imagine much worse than the bad blood that had pulsed between him and his father these last five years. However, he hadn’t let it rip away the rest of the family.

  “I grew up in foster homes. I never knew my father. My mother never spoke of him, and then she died when I was seven. Believe me, that’s no life for a child. That’s the reason I’ve decided not to have children.”

  Miles sat back and stretched his arm along the banquette. Sydney’s emotional revelation suddenly had him appreciating the fact that his own f
amily was intact. Because of that, maybe relations with his father weren’t beyond repair.

  He cleared his throat, knowing she wasn’t going to like what he had to say, but he owed it to her to at least throw it into the mix.

  “But if you agreed to be A.J.’s baby’s godmother, you would be saving the child from being in the terrible situation you were in, should—God forbid—something happen to A.J. and her husband.”

  Miles had a point, even though she didn’t want to admit it. If she’d had a godparent…maybe she would’ve been saved from some of the perils of her youth.

  However, what Miles clearly didn’t understand was that, like him, A.J. had a huge family she could rely on, and beyond that, she had two layers of best friends in Caroline and Pepper—three if you counted Margeaux in St. Michel—all of whom A.J. had known longer and were much better choices to care for a child than Sydney. A.J.’s baby would never want for love and care and would certainly never end up in foster care if disaster struck.

  She figured it was best to change the subject.

  “So all the men on your dad’s side of the family are named Miles?” Sydney asked.

  He seemed to flinch at the non sequitur.

  “Well, not all the men.” He smiled at her. “All the first-born sons. And for the record, I’m not going to push you to keep talking about the godmother situation, but think about it, okay?”

  She nodded, gladly taking him up on the option to change the subject. “And there’s been what? Five generations of you?”

  “Yes, my birth certificate says Miles Mercer IV.”

  Sydney narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m just in awe of all this family tradition. Does that mean you’ll name your first son accordingly?”

  “Unless one of my siblings beats me to the punch,” he said. “So far all the grandkids are girls. And since I don’t exactly have women standing in line to become Mrs. Miles Mercer IV, they just might beat me to producing the next namesake. But that would be fine because sometimes carrying on a tradition like that feels like more of a burden than an honor.”

  She wasn’t going to get all holier than thou on him, but she couldn’t quite ignore the rope of envy that knotted in her belly at the thought of being part of such a large clan. Of course, it was too late for her to ever be a thread in such a tapestry. Some people were just meant to follow different roads. But she could still envy…from afar.

  “You said your father was angry at you for the movie,” she said. “Why?”

  He shifted and she could see a wall go up. “He blames me for dragging the family name through the mud.”

  “I hate to put it this way, but do you really think your audience cares about family virtue and such? I mean, this is the new millennium; it’s not the Victorian era. I did see the movie and I don’t think any less of you—except for the fact that I couldn’t sleep. I guess I don’t understand why he would take it as such an affront.”

  “Right, I know you had a hard time sleeping.” He grinned at her. “You called to let me know, remember?”

  Her cheeks warmed at the reminder. She rolled her eyes with the intention of diverting his attention from her embarrassment.

  He reached out again and took her hand. The feel of his fingers laced through hers made her skin tingle.

  “My dad is all about honor and doing what is right…what he thinks is right, that is. In my research, I discovered that my great-great-grandfather’s alibi was actually his mistress. He was acquitted for the murder of his wife because he had been with his mistress that night.”

  “Okay?”

  “I reminded everyone of the fact that my great-great-grandfather was an adulterer who had been accused of murdering his wife. Despite the fact that he was found innocent, he was having an affair and my father took issue with that. I guess it made him feel as if we had dredged up all the ghosts of the past again. Especially after another skeleton was discovered just a year before the movie premiered, it probably felt as if the ghost was rearing her head yet again.”

  “So the legend’s ghost is supposedly your great-great-grandmother?”

  “So they say.”

  Sydney nodded. While she didn’t agree with extra-marital affairs—and she would certainly never want her husband, if she ever married, to carry on with another woman—still…. “An affair really isn’t all that shocking, Miles. I mean, sure it’s not nice, but when it does happen, it’s not a reflection on the entire family. Especially generations down the road.”

  “That’s exactly what I said to my father. We’re still barely talking.”

  “Are you sure there’s not more to this that you’re not seeing or just not telling me?”

  He laughed. It was a dry, humorless sound. “You don’t know my dad. The fact that I would air our family’s dirty laundry and end up making a career out of it was treason.”

  His cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and glanced at it. After the second ring, he pushed the button to decline the call, returning it to his pocket.

  “Are you up for a little window shopping?” he asked. “I’ll take you to my favorite store.”

  Before Sydney could answer, Miles’s phone rang again. He pulled it out again and frowned at the display screen.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I think I should take this.”

  Sydney nodded. “Of course.”

  “Hi, Mom, is everything all right?”

  His mother. Sydney watched him, feeling a strange sort of heartwarming envy.

  “Yes, everything is fine. Nothing to worry about, really.”

  Sydney didn’t mean to eavesdrop. However, since it was nearly three thirty, they were practically the only two in the quiet restaurant and Miles was sitting barely two feet from her. The volume on his phone must have been turned up or maybe his mother simply had one of those full-bodied voices that carried, because she could hear the conversation loud and clear from where she was sitting.

  “You’ve called twice in the last two minutes,” Miles said all patience and calm. “I was concerned something was wrong.”

  “Well, there is sort of an emergency.” The words were muffled, but Sydney could hear the conversation whether she wanted to or not.

  Miles sat up in his chair, concern darkening his features.

  “Oh, but I don’t mean to alarm you, honey. It’s not an emergency emergency, but I’m kind of in a pickle. I was wondering if you could help me out.”

  “Sure, Mom. What can I do?”

  “Do you remember when I told you that we were allowing Lucy to go to the dance tonight? It’s her first real night out since the…you know what…the big debacle that we will not mention right now, mainly because there isn’t time.”

  Sydney picked up on the harried and stressed notes in his mother’s voice. She also noted the concern etched on Miles’s face as he patiently listened. What a contrast to the hardnose he could sometimes be on set.

  “Right, Mom, what can I do to help you?”

  “Well, I can’t find the lipstick I purchased for your sister to wear to the dance tonight. Could you drive into Dallas and pick up a tube of lipstick?”

  “What? How is this an emergency?”

  Sydney suppressed a smile as she watched Miles rake his hand through his hair and then look at her as he gestured to the phone in disbelief.

  “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t very important, honey. She’s been so good. She’s held up her end of the bargain and I promised her she could have this lipstick if she did certain things. You know, like bring up her grades and stay out of trouble. She held up her end of the bargain beautifully. I can’t bear to set a bad example by not holding up my end. I bought the lipstick for her last week, but I stashed it away somewhere and for the life of me, I can’t remember where I put it. I just can’t let her down after she’s been so good.”

  “Mom, I’m in the middle of something. Lucy won’t die if she doesn’t have this particular lipstick at this particular moment. Tell her you misplaced it and you’ll find
it tonight while she’s at the dance. At least she gets to go to that and she can have the makeup later.”

  “Oh. Well…it matches her dress perfectly, and she saved her money to chip in for half the cost. But don’t worry about it, sweetie. I suppose I can call your sister Patricia and see if she can swing by on her way home from Aubree’s soccer game.”

  There was no resentment in his mother’s voice. Just quiet resignation. At that moment all Sydney could think of was how much she wished she would’ve grown up in the midst of a big rambunctious brood where someone always needed something and there were half a dozen people you could turn to to help you out when you were in a bind.

  Sydney nudged his arm. “Ask her what kind of lipstick.”

  Miles shot her a quizzical look, and Sydney pointed first to her ear and then toward his cell phone, hoping he got the message that she couldn’t help but overhear the conversation.

  “Let’s go get the lipstick,” she said. “Ask her what kind.”

  He took a deep breath and gave his head a little shake. Not in refusal, but more in way that seemed to say he thought she was crazy.

  She nudged his arm again.

  “Okay,” he whispered.

  “What was that?” his mom asked.

  “I said, okay. I’ll go get it for you.”

  “Oh! You’re such a sweetheart, Miles. Lucy is almost finished getting her hair done. She has a nail appointment next and there’s no way I’d have time to drive all the way to Dallas and back and get her home in time for her date’s parents to pick her up.”

  “Ma, okay, tell me what to get.”

  “It’s MAC lipstick. The shade is called Pretty Please. Now, you’ll have to go to one of the nicer department stores to find it. This isn’t cheap stuff, but I’ll pay you back. It’s my fault that the first tube was lost—”

  “Ma, wait. So, that’s Mag lipstick?”

  “No, MAC. M, A, C,” she spelled.

  Sydney whispered, “It’s a line of cosmetics. I know what it is.”

  “I wouldn’t know a Mag from a MAC,” he said into the phone. “Here, Ma, talk to my friend Sydney. She speaks that language.”