by Lily Kate
I don’t have time to puzzle through it all now, however. My phone jars both of us to attention. I glance down at the number there, recognize the school line, and offer my mother a goodbye.
The door is already slamming in my face.
Chapter 17
TYLER
“What?” I grumble into the phone. “What happened this time?”
I listen as the principal explains there’s been an issue with Jess’s behavior. When I press him for more information, he asks me to stop by the school as soon as possible.
I continue to mumble, pulling myself from bed. I flopped down on the mattress after my meeting with Fletcher, feeling drained. I figured I had an hour or two of peace and quiet before he landed in New York and resumed pummeling me with questions.
I pull on a pair of dark jeans and a red sweatshirt. Though I told myself I have nobody to impress around here, I can’t resist stopping by the mirror to glance at my hair. It’s a mess. A mop of dark hair curling in every direction, and the best I can do is run my fingers through it a few times.
I race to school, keeping my eyes peeled for Margaret. I didn’t see her when I returned to the inn this morning, and Emily hadn’t offered me any clue as to her whereabouts. I grudgingly admire her loyalty.
By the time I reach the principal’s office, I can’t tell if my mood has worsened or become better. I’m a bit jittery, which is unlike me. I haven’t felt truly nervous in years—especially not while sitting in a principal’s office.
It could have something to do with the fact that I’m the first, and only, person to arrive in the office. I stare at the door wondering who’ll walk through it.
“You look like Medusa’s going to come through that doorway and take you down,” Shonda says, raising her eyebrows. “Is everything okay, Mr. Daniels?”
“Fine,” I say gruffly. “Just thinking about work.”
“I feel your pain.”
At that very moment, the pair of legs I’d been hoping—no, praying—would walk through that door, make their entrance. Except instead of their usual yoga pants, these legs are bare, stretching up from a pair of simple black heels to the hem of a dress that’s the most alluring thing I’ve ever seen.
My jaw must have dropped open because the secretary stands, raises her eyebrows at the two of us, and grasps her purse. “Yeah, I’m not doing this again,” she says to us. “If Principal McNeal asks where I am, tell him I needed a Coke.”
With that, we’re alone. Margaret Marshall and me, back in the principal’s office. Last time we were here, she didn’t look like this. If she’d looked like this...
“What’re you staring at, Tyler?” she snaps, and there’s a frostiness to her voice that I hadn’t expected. “I’m wearing a dress—it’s allowed.”
“Mmm.”
“You’re looking at me like I’m a species on the Discovery Channel.” She shifts, somewhat uncomfortably, and tugs her dress lower on her thighs. “Stop that.”
I can’t stop; it’s like every beat of my heart is coming more alive—faster and faster as my eyes drink her in, and if I look away, I might die. And here I thought Jess was the Drama Queen of the family.
“You look...” my voice comes out scratchy. “Incredible.”
“It’s nothing,” she says, dismissive. “I just had a breakfast—er, meeting...this morning.”
I don’t like the way she hedges around the words breakfast meeting, as if she had to spin that lie at the last moment. My eyes lock on hers. “You’re lying.”
“No.”
“Did you have a date?” I stand, uncomfortable with how angry the thought of Margaret Marshall out on a date with another man makes me. I’m reacting on a basic, instinctual level, and all signs of my logical brain have disintegrated. “Is that why you’re dressed all sexy?”
“This isn’t sexy!” She gestures to her dress, which is a mid-thigh black thing that’s nearly painted onto her body. “I got it on sale for thirteen dollars at Target.”
“I don’t care where the fuck you got it, you look sexy as hell.” I’m moving across the room before I can stop myself. “Did you have a date this morning?”
“What’s it to you?” she whispers. I’m close enough to practically taste the mint on her breath. “We’re not together.”
“The hell we’re not,” I tell her, though I know I’m being irrational. “You haven’t dated since Mila was born—yes, I know that—and now you choose to meet people? What about us? What about this? If you’re going to give someone a chance, why don’t you make it me?”
“I had breakfast with my mother,” she says, an odd smile twisting onto her face. “How about that, tough guy?”
My heart stops then and there. All of my bravado...for a breakfast with her mother. The look in Maggie’s eyes tell me she’s not lying; in fact, she’s quite amused.
“But, I’m glad to know how you feel,” she says, brushing past me. “I’ll have to put on a dress more often. Just not at school,” she says, her eyes flicking toward the door. “You can’t seem to control your language, and we’re in the principal’s office.”
Almost as if he’d been called, Principal McNeal opens his door, sighs when he sees the two of us waiting on opposite ends of the room, and waves for us to come inside.
“You’re back,” he says, announcing the obvious. “Because Jessica and Mila had a little run in today during math.”
“A little run in,” I say, sounding almost gleeful. “Guess that means we’ll need some more bonding time together.”
Maggie shoots me a deathly glare.
“I’m thinking a canoe trip,” I announce to the group. “The four of us, all alone on the river, no place to escape. We’ll have to talk about things and work together. It might really help to clear the air.”
Principal McNeal sputters a bit. “Don’t you, er, want to hear what they did wrong?”
Maggie rolls her eyes at me, stepping forward to stand behind her daughter. “Yes, Principal McNeal, please.”
“The girls wouldn’t stop talking during their exam. They received three warnings, which means they both got their tests taken away before completing them.”
At this, Jessica bursts into tears. I’m forced to hide the brief glimpse of happiness I’d felt upon realizing that this little incident might make for an excellent excuse to spend more time with Margaret. Maybe she’d even wear that little dress again if I switched out canoeing for a picnic.
Yes, I feel like a horrible father to be thinking this at the moment, but I can’t help it. I know Jessica is a good girl. Whatever’s causing these tiffs between her and Mila will get worked out, and I can’t bring myself to feel upset with her.
Moving is hard; I know that. Punishing my daughter won’t do any good when she’s already giving herself a harder time than I ever could.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, finally freeing myself of thoughts of Margaret as Jess’s little arms snake around my neck. “It’s okay, honey. I’m not upset with you.”
“I got in trouble,” she says. “My teacher never gets mad at me.”
Over Jess’s shoulder, I see Maggie watching her own daughter with curiosity. Mila’s kicking the floor, eyes downcast, giving no sign she’s truly bothered by the reprimands.
“It’s okay, honey. Do you want to come home with me today?” I ask her. “We can take some time off for the afternoon, and maybe we can talk to your teacher about re-doing some of the test.”
“No,” she shrieks, nearly hysterical. “I can’t.”
Her sobs come quicker now, her tears wet against my shoulder. Mila continues to drill her hole into the ground as if she’s attempting to tunnel her way out of here with laser beams.
Alarmed, I hold my daughter closer. “Jess, breathe. It’s okay. One bad grade isn’t going to ruin your life.”
“In fact,” the principal says, unhelpfully. “Jess is doing excellent. Mila, however, could use a little help focusing during class.”
Maggie’s lips tigh
ten. “Of course. I’ll set up a meeting with her teacher.”
“I think that’d be a good idea,” Principal McNeal says. “In the meantime, it’s probably best if we get the girls back to their teacher. I think keeping them in from recess today to catch up would be a sufficient consequence for disrupting class.”
“Jess, are you sure you don’t want to take the day off?” I run a hand over her smooth hair, holding her against me. For some reason, I don’t want to let her go. I want to kidnap her back to the inn and cuddle up under a blanket watching silly movies and playing catch with popcorn. “I’ll give you a note if you want to come home. I’m sure the principal will understand.”
When I use the word home, both Jess and Maggie stiffen. Maggie watches with interest as I struggle to keep my attention focused on Jess.
“No,” she hiccups. “I want to go back to class with Mila.”
Maggie, myself, and our daughters excuse ourselves from the principal’s office and make our way to their classroom. When I lean down to kiss Jess goodbye, she’s already distracted pulling her spelling list out of her backpack, and Mila is groaning at the thought of missing recess.
“What’s happening here?” Maggie asks, mystified, as they walk side by side into class. “Are they friends?”
“I don’t know,” I say, equally unsure. I turn to face her, and change the subject back to us. “What are we, Margaret? Friends? More? I acted like a fool in there before, and I’m sorry. Just the thought of you spending time with someone else—another man...”
“I don’t know, Tyler. What am I to you?” she asks. “Jealousy doesn’t mean you’re all in. It only means you don’t want someone else to have me. Am I an old friend? A distraction while you’re in town? More?”
“I’m not going to leave things like I did last time.”
“You’ve said that before,” she murmurs. Then she turns, stepping away with a light click-click of her heels. “Once you know what you want, we’ll talk.”
Chapter 18
MAGGIE
I drive home, flushed and warm from the way I’d left things with Tyler. It’d been one of the hardest things to do, walking away from the conversation, but it was right. It is right, I correct—I cannot involve myself with Tyler until he knows what he wants. The risk for Mila, and for myself, is too high.
My feet pull me into the inn, past the reception desk where Emily and Luca are holding up different paint chips and having a screaming match about the color blue, and haul myself to my room.
I wash my face, change out of my dress and into my normal uniform of yoga pants and a T-shirt, and lean against the counter. The reflection in the mirror shows a tired woman, glassy eyed and pale, still jittery with nerves.
The knock on the door surprises me, and I start, nearly smacking my forehead into the mirror before I gather my wits. “Who is it?”
“Margaret, it’s me.” Tyler’s voice is soft, a question. “I was wondering if I could talk to you.”
I pull the door open and find him standing back, giving me space. He’s wearing the same clothes from before, the sweatshirt and jeans unusually casual for weekday Tyler. “Sure, come on in.”
Tyler strolls easily into the room, giving me a wide berth. He glances around, finds the couch in the living room, and makes his way to it, easing into the seat without an invitation. Once there, he leans forward, resting his hands on his knees, and waits.
I shift my weight from one foot to the next, leaning against the edge of the chair opposite him as Tyler turns his eyes toward the television. He’s staring at the blank screen, looking like his mind is a million miles away.
“Maggie,” he says, almost pleading when he speaks. His eyes are hollow gems, watching me with an equal split of pain and truth. “I didn’t expect to feel anything for you when I came back. I knew I would, but I hoped I wouldn’t—I hoped I’d find you happily married with a pack of kids.”
I blink, surprised. “Why?”
“So I would have an excuse to avoid us. To avoid this.” He stands, his hulking frame equally intimidating and sexy. “I thought I’d figured out life these past few years. Jess and me—we were a team. Just the two of us. I had Jess and I had my work—that’s it. Simple.”
“Life with me is complicated and messy,” I say. “I know.”
“I’m not afraid of messy.” His eyes flash, but he doesn’t take the bait—his voice remains calm. “I’m slow on the uptake sometimes, Margaret—it takes me awhile to figure out what I want in life. What I need.”
My heart thumps. “Well—have you figured it out?”
“If I ever settle down, I’m going to need a woman who challenges me.” He takes a step closer, his eyes deadly serious. “I will need a woman who loves my daughter like her own—who’s willing to be the mother Jessica deserves, but has never had.”
I swallow as he moves closer still, closing the gap between us.
“I will need a woman who loves me with a ferocity that’ll never fade,” he says, his hand reaching out, tentative, as he takes my chin between his fingers. “I need a woman who’ll destroy me if she ever leaves.”
I clear my throat, unable to break our gaze. “You said if.”
“What?”
“You said if you ever settle down.”
“Because as far as I’m concerned, there’s only one woman who can ever bring all of that to the table,” he says. “I’ve met plenty of women—not one has ever compared to the one who got away.”
“I didn’t get away, Tyler. You left. I stayed. Simple math—our equation didn’t work out.”
“Is it too late?” he asks, his eyes pained. “Just tell me if there’s not a chance. I’d rather know now than later. I know you’re cautious—you have to be. But give me a hint, Margaret. Do I have a chance with you?”
Even if I’d had an answer prepared, his expression would’ve given me pause. It’s as if all of his hopes rest on this question, as if the light in his eyes will blink out should my answer not be the one he wants to hear.
“Don’t feed me a line,” he says. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I can’t hurt Jess. If you can’t see yourself getting involved with me, please spare me. Tell me now.”
“Tyler, I can’t—”
“I’m not asking you to marry me. Not yet,” he adds quickly. “We have a lot of catching up to do, and who knows if we’re still compatible. I have a fairly good idea the answer to that, or I wouldn’t be standing here now, pouring my guts out to you.” He offers me a smile. “Jess doesn’t have anyone but me. If I fall apart...”
“I understand.” His hand moves to my cheek, and I step closer, closing the gap between us. “I understand perfectly.”
“I know you do.” His hand slides down, cups my neck. “That’s why I’m telling this to you. I have already admitted I’m falling in love with you, and I’m sick of fighting it. I love you, Margaret. I need you. I don’t have a solution for...for everything just yet, but I’m willing to make things work. Whatever it takes.”
“No,” I tell him, and the light blinks out.
“Oh, okay, well...” He retracts his arm and moves back, offering a flickering cough. “Well, I respect that. Thank you, er, for being so honest.”
“No, Tyler,” I say, shaking my head. “I mean, no, I can’t tell you I love you. Not yet. I can’t pretend your mention of marriage doesn’t terrify me. I’m afraid for Mila. If she gets attached to you and Jess, and then something happens...” I hesitate to inhale. “The answer to your initial question is yes—there is potential. I care about you; I’ve never stopped, and that’s the problem. I have decade-deep feelings for you, and I need to sort through what that means for us now. You’re a different person than when you left, and I need to know this Tyler.”
He lets out a huge breath, his chest expanding with the effort as he closes the space between us once more and pulls my face to him. He pauses on the precipice of a kiss.
I hold back, staring at his lips instead of his eyes, afraid o
f what I’ll find there. “Are you going to leave?”
“Leave?”
“Why are you here, Tyler?”
Tyler lets out a soft groan, stepping away from me and running a hand roughly through his hair.
“I want an answer.”
“I’m here on business,” he admits. “I’ve been meaning to tell you the full story, but it never seemed like the right time.”
“Right. You buy things. You said as much.”
“Property. Real estate. Apartments—you name it,” he says, looking uncomfortable. “Hotels.”
“You’ve done well for yourself, judging by the spiffy suits and the flashy car.”
He offers a grim smile. “I got started as a handyman. Worked my way up, bought my first property, and you can guess the rest.”
“So, you like fixing things. That’s why you’ve kept busy around here—the popcorn machine, the washing machine...anything I’m missing?”
“I have other reasons for that,” he says, offering the first glimpse of a smile. “There’s a beautiful woman that’s hard to impress.”
I bite my lip, refusing to let his charms lull me away from the conversation. “What’s in Harp’s Haven for you?”
“We thought there might be an opportunity to build here.”
“A little healthy competition,” I say, my throat going dry. “A hotel.”
“I didn’t know you worked here, Margaret, and—”
“And it wouldn’t have stopped Tyler Daniels, the business man,” I tell him. “I read a bit about you. I know your reputation; you didn’t get rich on accident.”
He doesn’t look surprised. “It’s just business, Maggie. The plans aren’t final yet.”
“When were you planning to tell me any of this?”
“Once I’d made my business decisions. Why risk upsetting you if we decide not to build here?”
That does the trick and pushes me over the edge. “What the hell do you think I am, Tyler? Some plaything? What...you have until the end of the month to make your business decisions? Buying yourself time to fool around with me?”