For Joy's Sake

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  Hunter really didn’t have a high opinion of his ability to handle emotional crises.

  She’d known many charming men. In polite, moneyed society they were bountiful. She’d fallen in love with one. And found that beneath the charm lay selfishness. Rotten eggs on a heart of ice.

  But Hunter... She kept picturing him with his hands in his pockets walking around a tree and humming. And felt herself smiling from the inside out.

  For the first time in a very long time.

  They talked some more about Joy. A little about Edward and Lila. About his fund-raiser that evening. And then Joy again.

  “She needs to have fun at the beach,” Hunter said, after Julie expressed disappointment that she’d been unable to get the girl to speak again once they came down from the tree.

  “At the beach?” she echoed.

  “Edward’s talk about his house being on the beach didn’t make her happy.”

  She’d noticed, of course. Had suspected that he had, as well, based on his pancake art and food-stealing.

  She’d been hesitant to believe that he’d really discerned Joy’s discomfort. She was always hesitant to believe. That came with having trust issues as high as the Empire State Building.

  It felt good to know she’d been right in her first assessment. Hunter had played with his food to help Joy.

  “Her father was a surfer,” she reminded him. He was close enough that she could smell a hint of musk. And yet, she didn’t feel threatened.

  A moment to savor.

  To give her hope.

  He nodded. Watched her in a way that was personal. But she was okay. No need for her studio right now. It would come. The need. Her studio would be there waiting for her. And she’d go. For now, though...

  “I surf.” Why did it seem as if there was so much more to those words? His expression wasn’t smiling. Or charming. It was...serious. About surfing.

  “You’ve mentioned that before.”

  “The feeling you get, when you catch a wave just right. If she knew that feeling...”

  He stopped and Julie straightened. “What?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not good at this.”

  “At what?”

  “The emotional drama. I’m the guy who checks out.”

  “I don’t see you that way.”

  “You don’t know me well enough. Trust me. Or ask my father. Or my mother, for that matter. They’ll tell you. The going gets tough, I go surfing.”

  He was touching something deep inside her. Nudging the heart she kept so carefully protected. Just as Joy had.

  Because of Joy? Was she at risk with Hunter because her heart had to be open to help Joy? Was she entering a minefield she’d promised herself she’d never get close to again?

  He walked around a tree and hummed. For as long as it took.

  But maybe he really didn’t get it. Didn’t see his abilities to empathize, to recognize when someone was in trouble and step in to lighten the load long enough for them to find their own emotional strength?

  Maybe she was making him into what she needed him to be in order to sit outside by the pool and drink wine with him.

  “What’s the feeling you get when you hit the wave just right?” she asked.

  His assessing look gave her pause. As did the bit of a smirk on his shadowed face. He sipped his wine, then held his glass suspended as he said, “It’s like that dip in the roller coaster, the carnival ride excitement you felt as a kid. It’s all about the fun. But it’s also about the rush of fear, facing it and ending up safely on shore.”

  He took another sip of wine. “But if Shawn forced Joy on to a board, or pulled her underwater to teach her to get used to it...”

  She’d been wondering about that. Wondering what it was about the beach that Joy didn’t like. If she really didn’t like it the way they were assuming.

  Lila had told Sara about Joy’s reaction, minute as it had been. So it wasn’t a question of Julie seeing things that weren’t there. Or Hunter.

  “Maybe he deserted her on the beach at some point. Or she saw him hit her mother there,” she suggested.

  “But if she learned to surf now...”

  “What? What’s this great thing that makes you such an advocate of a dangerous sport? What do you get out of it?”

  “Strength.”

  He said the word like a challenge. Then he stopped, shook his head again. Sipped wine.

  “Strength.” She gave the word back to him, with a challenging tone.

  She wasn’t like him. Wasn’t good at letting go when emotions surfaced. No, she glommed. Because she knew that the only true way to emotional freedom, to possible happiness, was to deal with them.

  “Clearly you’ve never been on a board.”

  “I’ve never mastered the art of surfing, no.”

  “But you’ve tried?”

  “No.”

  He nodded, and seemed to relax again. Then he said, “When you hit the crest of a wave, when you ride it in, you’re on top of the ocean. One with it. Part of it. The ride itself is fun, but it’s that ability to stand up to it, with it, to glide to shore and hop off. If you can do that, you know you can do other things, too.”

  Like facing whatever had sent him surfing to begin with?

  The man was an enigma. She didn’t get him. Wasn’t sure she’d have a chance to understand him before their brief association ended. But she knew she wasn’t going to forget him, either.

  “So...you think we should propose a trip to the beach? With Edward and Lila along, of course?” She didn’t see that one flying—a trip to the beach in the middle of a busy weekday? But she didn’t hate the idea...

  So she told him, “Sara says we need to instigate safe feelings of family in whatever way we can. We need to not only bring out of Joy whatever she’s hiding, but also to help her see Edward as a safe figure in her life before they tell her who he is.”

  “If Cara isn’t found...” He stopped, and she wondered if he’d avoided saying, “or found alive.” “Edward will be her next of kin. Chances are he’ll get custody of her.”

  Down the road. If things didn’t end as well as everyone wanted.

  Worst-case scenario, Joy would be loved. She’d have security for the rest of her growing up, including Edward’s financial security. She’d have family, starting with his sister, who was married to Hunter’s father.

  “You’re her cousin, you know,” she said aloud now.

  “What?”

  “Cara. And Joy. They’re your cousins.”

  “By marriage only.”

  “Marriage has been making families since the beginning of time, Hunter. Parents are only related by marriage, and yet parents are the backbone, the basis, of all family.”

  When he sat forward and grinned, she felt a little foolish. She’d always had a tendency to be passionate in her delivery.

  It had been a while since she’d delivered anything from inside herself to anyone but Chantel or Colin.

  “Go out with me.”

  At that moment, she wanted to.

  She wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

  But, miracle of miracles, she felt the desire to date.

  “I...”

  It wouldn’t last. This crazy sense of going back in time. Of being like the girl she’d been before David Smyth Jr. had asked her to date him exclusively.

  “I know it’s crazy,” Hunter said, leaning closer to her, almost close enough for his hands to touch her knees. “We’re so different. You’re rich, I’m a working man. You dedicate your life to seeing the world’s ailments and fixing them, and I’m great at helping rich people forget their troubles and feel good about themselves. You’ve told me about a million times that you don’t want to go out with me...”
/>   “You said you aren’t the type of guy who dates seriously.”

  “And you said you don’t date, period. I know.”

  Right. Okay. Back on an even footing.

  “Well?” His look was so expectant, she wanted to come up with just the right thing to say. To impress him. Because he probably already had an answer on the tip of his tongue. Some light and airy comment, letting them both off the hook.

  “Well?” she echoed. She’d let him do it for them.

  “So will you go out with me.” It was more statement than question this time. More like confirmation of something that was a foregone conclusion.

  Except it wasn’t.

  Confused now, Julie could feel herself getting upset. No. She didn’t want to be afraid. Didn’t want to be injured.

  Or act weird.

  She was in control. Capable. Successful.

  He was watching her, that half grin on his face. As if in slow motion, she could feel the panic, the tornado rising up within her.

  She looked at Hunter, and the vision abated. For a second. For two.

  “I can’t.”

  The words brought her calm.

  Relief.

  And a surprising wave of disappointment.

  “Why?”

  She was wringing her hands together when what she wanted to do was pick up her glass of wine. Take a sip. Say something sassy.

  “What’s going on, Julie? After the past few days...everything with Joy...being at The Lemonade Stand...” He reached over and took her hands between his.

  Julie jerked back. Forcefully. She hit her elbow on the metal arm of the chair so hard, it brought tears to her eyes. Pushing the chair back, she stood, took a step away. She needed some distance.

  A few minutes to calm herself. Regain control. Make the next choice because she had that right. And because she wanted to be happy.

  Because she liked him.

  “Julie?” He was coming toward her.

  No! She could feel the pounding of her heart. Hunter was the one who didn’t push. Who ran when pushing happened, according to him. He was the one who knew when someone was in trouble and lightened the moment.

  She needed him to lighten her moment.

  No. She needed to do that herself. To be okay.

  She backed up. He stood a couple of feet away. She wanted him to stay there, and kept backing farther away until she was up against the fireplace. His hands reached out, but he came no closer.

  Tears spilled from her eyes.

  “Get away from her!”

  Julie’s arm stung where it hit the edge of the fireplace as she jumped at the sound of her brother’s voice.

  Colin?

  “If you ever lay a hand on my sister again...”

  An arm wrapped around Julie’s shoulders. Feminine. Familiar. Chantel was there, too?

  “Hunter? Hunter Rafferty?” Colin’s tone held confusion now, along with aggression.

  “Whoa, wait a minute here!” Hunter’s hands were in the air, as though Colin was holding a gun on him. “I’m not... I don’t know what I’m not, but...really?” He looked at Colin, frowning.

  And then at her. His glance finally rested on Chantel. A Santa Raquel detective.

  Julie pulled away from her sister-in-law’s comforting hold.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, addressing Hunter first. Approaching him. She didn’t reach out. Didn’t touch him. But she stood next to him, facing her brother and his wife.

  “He wasn’t hurting me.”

  “You were crying.” Colin’s adrenaline rush had clearly not abated.

  “You were backing away from him and he stood his ground, forcing you up against the fireplace.” Chantel’s tone was a mixture of conciliatory, explanatory, and...embarrassed.

  “I was crying before Hunter came toward me. He came over to find out what was wrong.”

  She could feel him next to her. Figured he was watching them all like they were some kind of freak show and waiting for a chance to make his escape without losing potential clients. After all, Colin, and now Chantel, were lucrative donors.

  “I think I should leave so you can work this out.”

  He wasn’t stepping away from her, though.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Colin didn’t seem to know what to do with himself all of a sudden.

  She nodded.

  Her brother stared at the glasses on the table for a few long seconds, and then back at her, while Hunter stood there, doing nothing about leaving. “You were out here drinking wine.”

  She nodded again. He’d know the significance of that, far more than Hunter Rafferty ever would.

  “And I just made a fool of myself,” Colin muttered.

  Where were Hunter’s jokes? His silly antics?

  Approaching Colin, Chantel slipped her arm through his. “I think we should go back inside,” she said.

  He took a step with her, then looked back at Julie. “You swear you’re okay.”

  She wasn’t, of course.

  But this situation was hers to deal with. However it turned out. She couldn’t be a complete person, independent, living a full life, until she quit leaning on Colin and faced her own issues. Took them on instead of hiding from them. Or giving in to them. Learned how to coexist with them.

  She’d been telling him so, with Chantel’s help, for more than a year. And yet she relied on him for rides home from evening events. Went to these events with plans to hide out in his car. Her mixed messages weren’t fair to him.

  To any of them.

  “I swear,” she said. “I invited Hunter in. I should’ve told you, and I apologize for that.”

  “Oh, God.” Colin looked at Hunter again. Hung his head a second and then stretched out a hand. “Sorry, man,” he said. “I...don’t know how to salvage this one. I’m sorry.”

  “Just don’t tell anyone I made a lady cry,” Hunter said with that half grin. “It’d be bad for business.”

  Julie wrapped her arms around her as the night’s chill seeped through her T-shirt and into her soul. She watched her brother and Chantel head back inside. Moving to the fire once again, to get warm, she listened for Hunter’s departure.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “NORMALLY, YOU COME out here alone. Sit by the fire alone. Have a glass of wine alone.”

  Hunter didn’t know why he was still there. The Escalade wasn’t far. He had the freedom to walk through the Fairbanks mansion to get to it. He had the keys. But his feet hadn’t moved since Colin had stepped away from him.

  Julie’s nod didn’t satisfy him.

  Or give him the go-ahead to take off.

  Her brother hadn’t been surprised to see Julie outside. He’d become unhinged when he’d seen a man outside with her.

  It was that unusual for her to be with a man.

  Any fool could figure it out.

  Julie was lucky to have such a knight in shining armor in her corner. To have that kind of familial protection. Support. Security.

  Yet she’d sent her brother away.

  And Colin had left.

  Colin was overprotective. But he respected her judgment.

  Again, Hunter knew he was only coming up with the obvious.

  “I’m sorry.” Her words were soft.

  Apparently her apology hadn’t been what he was waiting for, either. In fact, it kind of pissed him off. As pissed off as he ever got in personal relationships. “For what?”

  With the fire at her back, her face was in shadow. She’d pulled the ponytail holder out of her hair. He preferred it down. But would’ve liked a better look at her face.

  “Colin. The way you were treated. I should’ve told him we were out here.”

  “Tha
t I was here, you mean.”

  “Yes.”

  “So why didn’t you?” That was it. He just needed to know why. Then he’d get the hell out of there.

  Maybe take a drive by the beach on his way home.

  Or call and see if Edward wanted to meet for a beer.

  “I didn’t want him to make a big deal out of it.”

  Because she didn’t have men over for glasses of wine. He’d already realized that. Which meant he still didn’t have what he needed to set himself free.

  “You didn’t think he’d notice us out here.”

  “He and Chantel were in the TV room.” As if that explained it all. His expression must have given away at least a hint of the dissatisfaction in his thoughts because she added, “It’s close to their suite. Normally they go straight to bed from there.”

  So she hadn’t expected to get caught. And that brought up something else. “You’re ashamed to be seen with me.”

  Was that the real reason she wouldn’t go out with him? As much as it made her seem like a snob, it was also an answer he could live with.

  Well, perhaps not live with, but understand.

  He hadn’t taken her for such a snob. If she felt that way, she should just have said so.

  Maybe he could leave.

  As soon as she confirmed her views. Satisfied his curiosity. So they didn’t have to revisit any of this.

  Her chuckle might have been right up his alley if he hadn’t seen the glint of tears in her eyes. Or heard the break in her voice as she said, “If I was ever seen with you, Hunter, shame is the last thing I’d be feeling.”

  What. The. Hell.

  It was too dark to surf. That was why he was still there.

  If he wasn’t getting out, he might as well sit down. Drink. There was still wine left in his glass. And in the bottle.

  Wine was a party.

  “Come here,” he said once he was firmly in his chair, wineglass in hand. Lord knew, he wasn’t going over there to get her.

  No, sir. Not making that mistake twice.

  He wasn’t going to touch her at all. He might be unreliable when it came to emotional support, or want to think he was, but no one had ever accused him of being stupid.

  When she did as he’d suggested, okay, commanded—not that he’d expected his statement to have any power whatsoever—he wasn’t any more satisfied than he’d been when she’d stood over by the fire.