Honeysuckle Bride

by Tara Randel

  * * *

  AFTER A QUICK SHOWER, Wyatt dressed in a pair of dark jeans and button-down shirt. He rolled up the sleeves before heading back out into the heat and the confrontation he was dreading.

  Josh had insisted they needed to clear the air. Wyatt didn’t know why. He’d been up front and honest ever since Josh moved to town. He didn’t need his brother’s help. Sure, he appreciated the gesture, but he wasn’t a kid. But Josh had been adamant, threatening to come by Wyatt’s place unless he agreed to meet. At least in a public place Wyatt could get up and leave anytime he wanted rather than being cornered in his own home.

  He hadn’t seen his family since the welcome party Nealy had thrown for Jenna at the Grand Cypress. He knew they worried about him. Understood their helplessness. He hated that his grieving burdened them. But he wasn’t ready to talk. Or plan a future without his son.

  He drove to the Grand Cypress, the designated meeting place, dreading every minute of the conversation to come. He parked, stretched out the tense muscles in his neck before heading to the outdoor restaurant by the pool. His brother, already at a table, stood and waved him over. As he approached, he saw his parents were there as well.

  “Son,” his father said in greeting.

  Wyatt glared at Josh then turned to his parents. “Mom. Dad. What a surprise.”

  “It’s about the only way we get to see you these days.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “That excuse is getting old, son.”

  He hated hearing the hurt in his father’s voice. Growing up, they’d been a close-knit family. Even after he’d married Marcie and they’d had Jamie, the family stayed in regular contact. His parents and brother had adored Jamie. They were also hurt by the loss of their grandson and nephew. Maybe that’s why Wyatt dreaded being around them. Not just because of the memories, but the fact that he couldn’t do a thing to ease their pain. He loved his family, but their hurt tore at his already shredded heart. He couldn’t help them until he helped himself.

  Wyatt took a reluctant seat at the table.

  His mother laid her soft hand over his. “You know we love you.”

  “I’ve never doubted that.”

  “But we worry.”

  He felt like he was being dragged under a rogue wave, losing his breath under the water without any hope of rescue. He knew his family cared and felt like a jerk for his reaction to their concern.

  “I’ve told you I’m okay,” he said with a bite in his tone.

  Josh snorted. “And you expect us to believe you? We have eyes.”

  Wyatt scowled at his older brother. “I didn’t ask you to leave your big, fancy computer company to come home and baby me.”

  “Even though you haven’t asked, truth is, I sold it for other reasons. And I wanted to come home.”

  “Boys,” his father interjected. “You’re getting off track here.”

  “What is the track?” Wyatt said in a tight voice. “If you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Making sure you’re okay,” his mother answered. “I know you’re still grieving, honey, but we want to help.”

  “Helping me would be leaving me alone. I need to sort this out myself.”

  “By cutting us out of your life?”

  He glanced at his mother’s soft, blue eyes. Saw the tangled emotions reflected there. “Is that how you see it?”

  “How could we not? You’ve shut us out, Wyatt.”

  Yes, he had, because he couldn’t carry the pain for everyone and not buckle under the weight.

  Josh held up a hand before Wyatt could respond. “We get that it’s not about us, but that doesn’t stop us from missing you.”

  Shame slammed into his solar plexus.

  For the first time in over two years, he looked, really looked, at the faces of his family. Josh still held on to anger. His parents’ concern ranged from worry to frustration. He’d unwittingly placed those burdens on his family. He’d been so mired in his own grief he hadn’t considered their point of view.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how much my actions have affected you all.”

  His mother squeezed his hand. “We don’t want to rush you, but we want the old Wyatt back, don’t we, Bryce?”

  “Liz...” his father warned.

  Never going to happen, but Wyatt kept the truth to himself. “I’ll admit I’ve closed myself off.”

  “Become a hermit is more like it,” his father said.

  “I can’t be around people, dealing with the awkwardness and pity. And with you guys fussing all the time, it’s tough.”

  His father cleared his throat. “I’ll admit, we might have gone overboard, but we were trying to protect you.”

  “From what? Jamie’s gone. His death was my fault. You can’t change the facts or protect me from the guilt.”

  Tears glittered in his mother’s eyes. “It was an accident,” she whispered.

  “Which never would have happened if I hadn’t been distracted.”

  Silence settled around the table. No one could deny his heart-wrenching words.

  His father spoke first. “Son, you have to forgive yourself.”

  Yeah. He knew that. Easier said than done.

  “Remember,” his mother added. “Jamie loved you.”

  Which only made the guilt burrow deeper into his gut. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. His heart hardened like a lump of stone.

  “Maybe we could start spending some time together,” Josh suggested. “Slowly, at first. Work up to the grudge matches we were notorious for.”

  His mother glanced at Josh. “As if you have the time.”

  Glad for a diversion, Wyatt pounced on his mother’s comment. “What’s up with you, Josh?”

  Josh took a sip of water, an obvious delaying tactic.

  “Your brother has been keeping himself busy, as well,” his mother replied with a frown. “Seems he had a little out-of-town adventure.”

  No wonder Wyatt had had a reprieve from his brother’s meddling. “What kind of adventure?”

  His father’s brow wrinkled. “An adventure involving a woman.”

  Wyatt forced a grin. “If I remember right, those are the best kind.”

  “We aren’t here to talk about me,” Josh countered.

  Just then Wyatt’s cell phone pinged. He pulled it from his shirt pocket and read the text.

  4 PM. WORK FOR U?

  He grinned. Jenna’s timing was perfect. How like her to relieve the tension. He had to admit, it had felt good working with her this morning, focusing on something positive rather than brooding on his porch.

  His thumbs moved over the screen. SEE U THEN.

  “Have you got something more important going on than lunch with your family?” his father asked.

  “Sorry. Just confirming an appointment for later.”

  His mother smiled. “With a therapist?”

  Wyatt ground his back teeth. Would they ever quit?

  At least when he was with Jenna she didn’t pry or push him to make strides he wasn’t ready for.

  “No. I’m meeting a friend.”

  “Friend.” His dad’s expression lightened. “A female friend?”

  “Yes. She’s considering purchasing some property and wants my advice.”

  “Because you’re such a real estate mogul?” his brother teased.

  Wyatt grinned back. “Right.”

  “Would this be Jenna by any chance?” Josh fished. “Heard you’ve been hanging around with her.”

  “Oh my,” his mother cut in. “The lovely television chef we met at the party?”

  “The one and only.”

  Josh crossed his arms over his chest. “Now this is interesting.”

  Wyatt
shook his head. He had to admit, since Jenna’s text the tension had decreased not only around the table but in his chest as well.

  A genuine smile touched his mother’s eyes. “It’s a start.”

  “Jenna’s a friend, so don’t get any ideas.”

  “We only—”

  “No ideas. When I’m ready, you’ll know.”

  He had to cut off their wishful thinking, because no matter how much better he was doing, he still had setbacks. And setbacks meant uncertainty. He wouldn’t give them, or Jenna, false hope.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “SO WHAT DO you think?”

  Madeline Haynes, a stylish woman in her midfifties, dressed in a very expensive tailored suit and matching pumps, held her leather organizer to her chest and focused on Jenna.

  She’d led Jenna and Wyatt on a grand tour of the building, which included the main seating area, kitchen, restrooms and storage areas. Jenna took notes as she asked the Realtor questions about the property. The musty smell of disuse had bothered her at first, but as fresh air breezed in through the open door, she realized she’d replace the stale odors with the magic of her cooking.

  “This is a prime location,” Madeline went on to say. “Easily accessible. Plenty of foot traffic whether you open a restaurant or catering business. Granted, there are some internal issues we need to address, but I’m sure we can negotiate an amicable resolution and get you in this place quickly.”

  Jenna recognized a practiced sales pitch when she heard one, but she had to admit, the space was what she’d expected. The location was great, but she’d pay for the exposure. The kitchen needed minor upgrades, and she’d have to turn the current dining room into an office/ showroom for the catering business.

  “I like what I see. Can you give me a few minutes to talk to my friend?”

  “Certainly.” Madeline shot Wyatt a curious look. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to step out to the sidewalk while you look around. Call me when you’re ready to leave.”

  “So,” Jenna said, turning to Wyatt. “I guess this place isn’t quite the same as when you worked here?”

  “I don’t remember there being any cobwebs or all this dust.”

  “The place does need some work, but I’m hoping it’s mostly cosmetic.”

  “I’m not a food prep expert, but this place has potential.” He stopped in the middle of the room, peering at the ceiling. “Of course, you’ll need an inspection, but the bones of the building look pretty solid.”

  “Already have it down as number one on my list.”

  Wyatt had joined her as the Realtor unlocked the door. She hadn’t realized just how nervous she was until he strode down the sidewalk in her direction, dressed in a casual button-down shirt and jeans. Her heart had gone haywire at the sight, but she’d also felt her anxiety lessen.

  Stop it, she’d admonished herself. This attraction to Wyatt was getting out of hand. He’d made it clear he didn’t want a relationship, so why did her heart do somersaults when she knew better?

  She’d dressed in a lavender sundress and spent extra time on her makeup for the appointment. In fact, she’d taken the time to look her best for Wyatt. A girl had that prerogative.

  “Did Madeline give you the name of an inspector?” Wyatt lowered his arms after knocking on the wood surrounding the door frame, just in time to catch her in the act of checking out how nicely his shirt stretched over his broad shoulders.

  Her cheeks grew warm. For a moment, they stared at each other, the only sound a car horn on the street. She looked away, focusing instead on the dust floating in the stream of sunshine coming through the window.

  Jenna cleared her throat. “Yes, but I’m assuming the guy works for her.”

  “I can get the name of a reputable inspector from my dad.”

  “Thanks.”

  Wyatt walked to the window. “This is a big undertaking.”

  She joined him, shrugging. “I’m not afraid of hard work.”

  A slight smile flitted over his lips, generating a rise in her body temperature. “As you’ve proven.”

  “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets as he turned to her. “Look, I’ll be the first to admit I don’t have a clue about the food industry, but I did own a fleet of charter boats. The responsibility of owning your own business is a 24/7 job. A lot of work, with a lot of rewards, but time-consuming. Have you thought about how that will affect Abby and Bridget?”

  “Yes.” She blew out a breath. “I spent too many hours at the studio filming, and the girls weren’t usually welcome there. The producers didn’t want them underfoot, so I had to find someone to watch them after school. I didn’t like that arrangement.” Her gaze swept over the interior of the building. “If I decide to start a catering business, I can make my own hours. At least I have the say about whether the girls can be here after school, which of course is yes.”

  He nodded. “A check in the pro column. Others?”

  “I can take my vision and execute it my way. Come up with my own menu. Hire my own staff. Create an environment to my liking as well as our lifestyle as a family.”

  “Any cons?”

  “Long hours, at least at first, until I figure out how to run the business. I take on the financial risk, which means I can be successful or lose everything.”

  “Trust me, it’s a big risk.”

  “Yet you sound like you enjoyed owning your business.”

  “I did. If it hadn’t been for losing Jamie, I wouldn’t have sold it.”

  Silence settled between them. Jenna tried to read Wyatt’s mood, but he’d been quiet since he arrived and she couldn’t get a handle on him. Had his previous appointment made him contemplative? Or was it her awkward admission earlier about them having a date?

  “It’s not a decision to make lightly,” he said. “You have to consider a great many things.”

  She looked down at her notes. “And by that you mean, am I up to this? Taking on a business while juggling everything else going on in my life?”

  “No matter what you do, you’ll figure out your priorities. It comes with the territory.”

  She glanced over the empty space again. “I have to say, I’m intrigued by the idea of having my own business.”

  “It’s perfect. This is what you do, cook for people. Now you can do it on a much more personal level.”

  She hadn’t looked at things that way. “I still have commitments back in LA”

  “Get your agent to help you.”

  “Trust me, she is not going to be on board with this.”

  And then there was keeping out of the public eye so the media wouldn’t visit Cypress Pointe and focus on her once again.

  “Go for your dream,” Wyatt told her.

  She glanced around the open space. “It sounds easy, but whatever I decide changes our lives. Again.”

  “Then I guess your next step is bringing the girls in on the decision.”

  Her stomach tightened. They’d been through so much. Would the girls be on board for a new adventure? “That will be a conversation for tonight.”

  “I’d like to be a fly on the wall.”

  She hesitated. “You could come by.”

  Wyatt shook his head. “Thanks, but I just came from seeing my family and I’ve had enough conversation for today.”

  “I’m guessing it didn’t go as you expected?”

  His shoulders went straight and stiff. “Yeah.”

  Judging from his one-word answer, she didn’t think he’d offer any details and she wasn’t about to prod.

  “Besides, you should talk to the girls alone.”

  Alone. Lately, she hated the word. While she’d been on her own for most of her life, now with the girls, she didn’t rel
ish figuring out major life decisions single-handedly. So far Wyatt was the only one she’d brain stormed with, but at the end of the day, she’d still go home and figure things out on her own. Even before she talked to Nealy. No point getting her friend’s hopes up if the girls weren’t on board. “I’ll fill you in on the outcome of our family meeting later.”

  He glanced at his watch. “Listen, I should go.”

  “Oh, yeah, please don’t hang around if you have plans. I’m going to walk though one more time.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. Thanks for stopping by. It was good to have someone to talk to.”

  “Anytime. I’ll get back to you about finishing the swing set.”

  “Great.” She couldn’t resist adding, “It’s a date.”

  He chuckled and walked out the door.

  Sighing, Jenna shook off the loneliness shrouding her. Enough. She didn’t need a man to make her life complete. While nice, it wasn’t imperative. At least Wyatt now had a friend who didn’t remind him of the past. If that was her role in the relationship, she’d live with it.

  Hiking her chin, she took a final pass through the kitchen, jotted down a few more notes about the building as well as additional questions for Nealy. Once she’d finished, she headed toward the door, stopping short when she glimpsed a woman standing there.

  “Can I help you?”

  “You’re Jenna Monroe, right? I recognized you from your television show.”

  Jenna smiled. “Yes. How can I help you?”

  The woman, probably close to forty, smiled tentatively. Her dark hair showed a hint of gray, and, her slender build bordered on skinny. She wore a white blouse, black pants and black shoes. In her hand she clutched what looked like an apron. A waitress?

  “My name is Michelle Lewis. I used to work here when Duke owned the place.” She stepped inside, a wistful expression on her face as if she hadn’t traveled these floors in a long time. “I watch your cooking show.”

  “Thank you. Always good to meet a fan.”

  Curiosity burned in Michelle’s eyes. “Are you thinking of buying the restaurant?”