Bachelor Dad on Her Doorstep

by Michelle Douglas

  He handed her the photograph of her mother. ‘Forget that she’s your mother, forget that you ever knew her, and focus only on the details.’

  She stared at the photograph. The details. Right.

  Then he handed her a paintbrush. ‘Paint, Jaz.’ Only then did she notice that he’d already arranged her paints about her.

  Jaz painted. The scent of autumn engulfed her and she painted.

  She’d finished the eyes and nose, the brow and the wild hair already. Now she focused on the mouth—the lips wide open in laughter, creases and laughter lines fanning out from the corners. She focused on the strong, square jaw with its beauty spot, then the neck and the shoulders.

  She lost herself in details.

  As always happened, when Jaz finished the last stroke she had no idea how much time had passed. She set her paintbrush down and stepped back, and the room gave a collective gasp. Jaz heard it for what it was—awe. It meant she’d done a good job.

  She couldn’t look yet. She needed all those details to fade from her mind first.

  She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, unutterably weary. Strong arms went around her and drew her in close, soaking her in their warmth and strength. She wanted to shelter in those arms—Connor’s arms—for ever. He’d remained standing behind her the entire time she’d painted, his presence urging her on, ordering her to stay focused. And she had.

  But she couldn’t stay here in his arms. At least, not for ever. She’d already made that decision—she couldn’t afford to let the worst of her nature free in the world again.

  But, before she was ready to let him go, he was putting her from him. ‘Are you ready to see it?’

  She pulled in a shaky breath, managed a nod. He eased her back towards the crowd, then slowly turned her around to face her finished artwork.

  Jaz stared. And then she staggered as the impact of the portrait hit her. She’d have fallen flat on her face if Connor hadn’t kept an arm around her.

  Frieda laughing in the sun.

  Her mother stood in front of her laughing, filled with happiness and goodwill and her own unique brand of fun, and Jaz ached to reach out and touch her. This was how Frieda would want Jaz to remember her. This was how Frieda would want everyone to remember her.

  Oh, Mum, I loved you. You did know that, didn’t you?

  Yes. The word drifted to her on an autumn-scented breeze and suddenly her cheeks were wet with all the tears she hadn’t yet shed. The tightness in her chest started to ease.

  Oh, Mum, what do I do?

  No answer came back to her on a breeze—autumn-scented or otherwise, but the answer started to grow in Jaz’s heart the longer she stared at Frieda’s portrait.

  Be happy. That was what her mother would say. It was all that Frieda had ever wanted for her.

  Did she dare?

  She scrubbed the tears from her cheeks with hands that shook, then turned to face the hushed crowd that stood at her back. ‘I want to thank you all for coming here today—for supporting me and Frieda and the bookshop. If she could, I know my mother would thank you too.’ She paused, dragged in a breath. ‘I came back to Clara Falls with a grudge in my heart, but it’s gone now. I’ve finally realised my true home is here in Clara Falls and—’ she found herself smiling ‘—it’s good to be back.’

  The crowd broke into a loud round of applause. Mr Sears brought it back under control after what seemed like an age. ‘Okay, folks, that’s officially the end to the book fair…’he sent Jaz a sly look ‘…for this year, at least.’

  Good Lord!

  She thought about it. An annual event? The idea had merit.

  ‘Now, there’s still plenty of cleaning up to be done,’ Mr Sears continued, ‘so those of you who are willing to stick around…’

  Jaz couldn’t help but grin as he took control.

  Connor touched her arm. ‘Jaz. I…It’s time I headed off.’

  The golden lights in his eyes had disappeared. Leaving? But…no! She didn’t want him to go.

  Her mouth went dry. She didn’t want him to go. It hit her then. Denying herself the chance of building a life with Connor, of being with him—that was hurting her just as much as his lack of faith in her had eight years ago.

  Did that mean she’d turn back into that desperate, destructive person she feared so much?

  She all but stopped breathing. Her fingernails bit into her palms. She hunched into herself and waited for the blackness, the anger, to engulf her again…and kept waiting.

  She lifted her head a little, dragged in a shaky breath, and counted to three. She lifted her head a little higher, and slowly it dawned on her. The blackness—it wasn’t coming back.

  She’d learned from the mistakes of the past.

  She was stronger, older, wiser.

  She wasn’t afraid any more!

  She wanted to dance. To sing and dance and—

  She glanced into Connor’s face and the singing and dancing inside her abruptly stopped. Had she left it too late? Had Connor finally run out of patience…and love?

  She glanced at Frieda’s portrait, then back at Connor.

  ‘I love you.’ She said the words as simply and plainly as he had to her earlier in the day. She didn’t know if it was too late to say them or not. She only knew she had to say them.

  Connor froze. He backed up a step. ‘What did you just say?’

  She grew aware that the people nearest to them had turned to stare. She leaned in close to him and whispered the words again. ‘I love you, Connor.’

  He threw his head back, his eyes blazed. ‘Are you ashamed of your feelings or something?’

  ‘No, I’m not ashamed that I love you, Connor.’ She said the words, loud and proud. ‘It’s just that guys aren’t as gushy-gushy as girls and I thought you might like to have this conversation in private, that’s all.’

  He just stared at her. He didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. He had to have heard her. She’d said it three times!

  ‘It’s customary for the boy to kiss the girl at this point,’ Mrs Lavender pointed out. ‘And if that is your intention, Connor Reed, then I definitely suggest you find yourself some privacy.’

  Her words acted on him like magic. He grabbed Jaz’s hand, pulled her through the stockroom, out through the kitchenette and all the way outside. He dropped her hand again and swung around to stare at her.

  ‘You’re not kissing me yet,’ Jaz couldn’t help but point out.

  ‘Not yet.’ He pointed a finger at her. It shook. ‘You say that you love me.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why the change of heart?’

  ‘It’s not really a change of heart. I’ve always loved you.’ The way she sensed he’d always loved her.

  ‘What made you change your mind about taking the risk?’

  ‘Frieda.’ She said her mother’s name simply. ‘I couldn’t finish her portrait because I was blocked. I was blocked because you were right. I wasn’t living my life the way she’d have wanted. When I looked at the finished portrait I finally realised what she’d want me to do.’

  He frowned. ‘To tell me you love me?’

  ‘To be happy,’ she corrected softly. ‘And being with you is what makes me the happiest.’

  His eyes darkened with intent then. Her pulse leapt. He moved towards her…

  It started to rain.

  ‘I don’t believe this,’ Jaz murmured under her breath. ‘Not now!’

  She glanced from the sky with its lowering clouds to Connor. ‘We could…er…always go up to my flat.’

  The gold highlights in his eyes glittered. He reached out and captured her chin in his strong callused fingers. ‘If you invite me up there, Jaz, I won’t be leaving any time soon.’

  A thrill shot through her. The rain continued to fall around them. ‘Where’s Melly?’ she managed.

  ‘With my parents. My father is going to drop her off at Yvonne’s party tonight.’

  Jaz stared up at the rain again, then back at
Connor. ‘So you don’t have anywhere you need to be tonight?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then…’

  ‘Then…?’ he mimicked.

  Jaz groaned. ‘Kiss me, Connor.’

  He did.

  When he lifted his head, long moments later, she could hardly breathe let alone stand. ‘Come on.’ When the strength returned to her limbs, she grabbed his hand and headed up the stairs and to her flat.

  Connor took the keys from her fingers and turned her to face him, heedless of the rain. ‘I’m not prepared to lose you a second time, Jaz. I want you to know that this—’he nodded at the door ‘—is for keeps. I need to know that you feel the same way.’

  Her heart expanded until she thought it might burst. ‘For keeps,’ she whispered. She’d never been surer of anything in her life. It made a mockery of all her previous doubts.

  ‘For ever?’ he demanded.

  ‘And ever,’ she agreed.

  He rested his forehead against hers. ‘I love you with all that’s in me, Jaz Harper. Promise me you will never run away again. I don’t think I could bear it.’

  His eyes darkened with remembered pain. She reached up and brushed his hair from his forehead. ‘I promise.’ Then she kissed him with all the love in her heart.

  They were both breathing hard when she drew back.

  ‘In return,’ he rasped, holding her gaze, ‘I swear to you that I will always listen to you. I won’t jump to stupid conclusions.’

  ‘I know,’ she said. But it suddenly occurred to her that, even if he did, they were both stronger now. Together, they could overcome anything.

  She didn’t know why, but she found herself suddenly laughing in his arms, so glad to be near him and loving him, revelling in the freedom of it.

  ‘What do you young people think you’re doing up there?’ Mrs Lavender called from below, her voice tart with outrage. ‘Don’t you know it’s raining? Get inside with you before you catch your deaths!’

  ‘Better do what the lady says,’ Connor said with a lazy grin, unlocking the door.

  Jaz’s heart leapt. ‘Absolutely,’ she agreed, the breath catching in her throat.

  He held his hand out to her. She placed hers in it. Together they stepped over the threshold.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-3804-0

  BACHELOR DAD ON HER DOORSTEP

  First North American Publication 2009.

  Copyright © 2009 by Michelle Douglas.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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