Her Accidental Engagement (Harlequin Special Edition)

by Major, Michelle

  “I’m not the same person I was. I can apologize but you’ll need to choose whether to forgive me. I don’t blame you if the answer is no, but it’s your decision. My priority is Charlie. I want to live a life that will make him proud. I don’t intend to re-create the past. You’re married now, right?”

  The other woman nodded. “Five years to my college sweetheart. He’s my best friend.”

  “Why is it so strange to believe that I might want that for myself? My parents had a great marriage and you probably remember my sister recently married the love of her life, who just happened to be my high-school sweetheart. They’re happy and I want to be happy. Last time I checked, that wasn’t a crime in this town.”

  Julia pointed a finger at Diane. “If your sister wants to find a man, she will without you hunting down potential suitors for her or tallying lists of how far ahead of other women she is in the dating pool. Sam is a real person, too. I don’t think he intended to become such a hot topic of gossip. He’s living his life the best way he can. We both are.” She stopped for breath and noticed Annabeth and Diane staring at her, eyebrows raised.

  She realized how much she’d revealed with her little tirade and tried to calm her panic. Maybe she didn’t want to be known as the town’s head mean girl anymore, but she had a reputation to protect. She made people think she didn’t take things seriously so that they’d never notice when she got hurt. She plastered a smile on her face. “What? Was that a little too mama grizzly for you?”

  Annabeth shook her head, looking dazed. “I didn’t realize that’s how you felt about things. Sam is lucky to have you.”

  “I’m not sure—”

  “I’m sure.”

  The three women turned to see Sam standing in the doorway. Julia’s face burned. “How much did you hear?”

  “Enough to know that I agree with Annabeth. I’m damned lucky to have you.”

  Annabeth and Diane scooted toward the front door. “If you’ll excuse us. We’ll leave you two alone.”

  He didn’t move. “Is this going to hit the gossip train or however it works?”

  Diane shook her head. “We weren’t the ones who started analyzing you. It was—”

  Annabeth gave her sister a hard pinch on the arm. “It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s clear you’re not the person everyone thought.”

  Sam eased to the side of the doorway. “I think that could be said for more than just me.”

  Annabeth threw a glance at Julia and nodded.

  “Maybe you should spread that news around.”

  “I’ll get on it, Chief.” The two women hurried out of the salon, and Sam pulled the door shut behind them.

  “I’m a real man?” he said, repeating Julia’s earlier comment. “I’m glad you think so, Ms. Morgan.”

  Julia slumped into a chair, breathing as if she’d just finished a marathon run. Her eyes were bleak as they met his. “It’s pointless, Sam. This is never going to work.”

  Chapter Five

  Sam stared at Julia. Her blond hair curled around her shoulders and fell forward, covering one high cheekbone. His fingers itched to smooth it back from her face, to touch her skin and wipe the pain from those large gray eyes. She looked so alone sitting in the oversized stylist’s chair.

  Sam knew what it felt like to be alone. Hell, he’d courted solitude for most of his life. He’d learned early on only to depend on himself, because when he relied on other people for his happiness he got hurt. First when his mother died and his dad had almost lost it. Then, later, in the relationship that had ended with his fiancée cheating on him.

  He’d come to believe that happiness was overrated. He wanted to work hard and make a difference—the only way he knew to chase the demons away for a little peace.

  When he’d heard Julia defending his character, something tight in his gut unwound. He was used to making things happen and having people depend on him. He prided himself on not needing anyone. It bothered him to know that women were spreading rumors about him, but he would have soldiered through with his head held high. Hearing Julia take on those ladies had made him realize he liked not feeling totally alone.

  Her declaration that they couldn’t make it work made no sense. “Why the change of heart?” He moved closer to her. “You convinced Annabeth and Diane.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-three.”

  “Why do you only date younger women?”

  He stopped short. “I don’t.”

  “Are you sure? I’ve heard you average women at least four years younger. I’m thirty-two. My birthday’s in two months.”

  “I don’t ask a woman about her age before we go out. If there’s a connection, that’s what I go on.”

  “You never asked me out.”

  “I asked you to marry me,” he said, blowing out a frustrated breath. “Doesn’t that count?”

  She shook her head. “I mean when you first came to town. When you were making the rounds.”

  “I didn’t make the rounds. Besides, you were pregnant.”

  “I haven’t been pregnant for a while.”

  “Did you want me to ask you out?” The attraction he’d denied since the first time he saw her roared to life again.

  She shook her head again. “I’m just curious, like most of the town is now. We’ve barely spoken to each other in the last two years.”

  “I thought the idea was that we were keeping the relationship under wraps.”

  “What’s your favorite color?”

  “Green,” he answered automatically then held up a hand. “What’s going on? I don’t understand why you think this won’t work. You made a believer of Annabeth Sullivan, the town’s main gossip funnel.”

  Julia stood and glanced at her watch. “The girls will start coming in any minute. I don’t know, Sam. This is complicated.”

  “Only if you make it complicated.”

  “What’s my favorite food?”

  “How the heck am I supposed to know?”

  “If we were in love, you’d know.”

  Sam thought about his ex-fiancée and tried to conjure a memory of what she’d like to eat. “Salad?” he guessed.

  Julia rolled her eyes. “Nobody’s favorite food is salad. Mine is lobster bisque.”

  Sam tapped one finger on the side of his head. “Got it.”

  “There’s more to it than that.”

  “Come to dinner tonight,” he countered.

  “Where?”

  “My place. Five-thirty. I talked to my dad this morning. He didn’t mention delving into my emotions once. Huge progress as far as I’m concerned. He can’t wait to spend more time with you.”

  “That’s a bad idea, and I have Charlie.”

  “The invitation is for both of you.” He took her shoulders between his hands. “We’re going to make this work, Julia. Bring your list of questions tonight—favorite color, food, movie, whatever.”

  “There’s more to it than—”

  “I know but it’s going to work.” As if by their own accord, his fingers strayed to her hair and he sifted the golden strands between them. “For both of us.”

  At the sound of voices in the salon, Julia’s back stiffened and her eyes widened a fraction. “You need to go.”

  “We’re engaged,” he reminded her. “We want people to see us together.”

  “Not here.”

  He wanted to question her but she looked so panicked, he decided to give her a break. “Dinner tonight,” he repeated, and as three women emerged from the hallway behind the salon’s main room, he bent forward and pressed his lips against hers.

  Her sharp intake of breath made him smile. “Lasagna,” he whispered against her mouth.

  “What?” she said, her voice as dazed as
he felt.

  “My favorite food is lasagna.”

  She nodded and he kissed her again. “See you later, sweetheart,” he said and pulled back, leaving Julia and the three stylists staring at him.

  * * *

  “Abby, how old are you?” Sam stepped out of his office into the lobby of the police station.

  Abby Brighton, who’d started as the receptionist shortly after he’d been hired, looked up from her computer. “I’ll be twenty-eight in the fall.”

  “That’s young.”

  “Not really,” she answered. “Maggie Betric is twenty-six and Suzanne over at the courthouse in Jefferson just turned twenty-five.”

  “Twenty-five?” Sam swallowed. He’d gone out to dinner with both women and had no idea they’d been that much younger than him. When did he become a small-town cradle robber? Jeez. He needed to watch himself.

  “Julia’s in her thirties, right?” Abby asked.

  “Thirty-two.”

  “When’s her birthday?”

  “Uh...” Wait, he knew this. “It’s in May.”

  Abby turned her chair around to face him. “I still can’t believe I didn’t know you two were dating.”

  “No one knew.”

  “But I know everything about you.” She looked away. “Not everything, of course. But a lot. Because I make the schedule and we work so closely together.”

  He studied Abby another minute. She was cute, in a girl-next-door sort of way. Her short pixie cut framed a small face, her dark eyes as big as saucers. They’d worked together for almost two years now, and he supposed she did know him better than most people. But what did he know about her? What did he know about anyone, outside his dad and brother?

  Sure, Sam had friends, a Friday-night poker game, fishing with the boys. He knew who was married and which guys were confirmed bachelors. Did knowing the kind of beer his buddies drank count as being close?

  “Do you have a boyfriend, Abby?”

  Her eyes widened farther. “Not at the moment.”

  “And your only family in town is your granddad?”

  She nodded.

  Okay, that was good. He knew something about the woman he saw every day at work. He looked around her brightly colored workspace. “I’m guessing your favorite color is yellow.”

  She smiled. “Yours is hunter green.”

  How did she know that?

  “Does Julia make you happy?” she asked after a moment.

  “Yes,” he answered automatically. “Why?”

  “I just wouldn’t have pictured her as your type.” Abby fidgeted with a paper clip. “She’s beautiful and everything, but I always saw you with someone more...”

  “More?”

  “Someone nicer, I suppose.”

  “You don’t think Julia’s nice? Has she been unkind to you?”

  Abby shook her head. “No, but I hear stories from when she was in high school. I’m in a book club with some ladies who knew her then.”

  “People change.”

  “You deserve someone who will take care of you.”

  “I’m a grown man, Abby. I can take care of myself.”

  “I know but you need—” She stopped midsentence when the phone rang. She answered and, after a moment, cupped her hand over the receiver. “Someone ran into a telephone pole out at the county line. No injuries but a live wire might be down.”

  Sam nodded and headed for the front door. “Call it in to the utility company. I’m on my way.”

  He drove toward the edge of town, grateful to get out and clear his head. He’d done more talking about himself and what he needed and felt in the past twenty-four hours than he had in the previous five years. His dad’s fault, for sure.

  This engagement was supposed to help Sam dodge his father’s attempts to make him more in touch with his feelings. Hopefully, this dinner would smooth things over enough so life could return to normal. Other than the pretend engagement.

  It wouldn’t be as difficult as Julia thought to fool people. They’d hold hands, be seen around town together for a few PDAs and everyone would believe them. Kissing Julia was one of the perks of this arrangement. He loved her moment of surprise each time he leaned in. Sam hadn’t been with a woman for a long time, which must explain why her touch affected him so much.

  He understood the importance of making this work. Tonight, they’d come to an understanding of how to get what they both wanted.

  * * *

  Julia lifted Charlie out of his car seat and turned to face the quaint house tucked onto one of the tree-lined streets near downtown Brevia.

  “He even has a picket fence,” she said to her son, who answered her with a hearty laugh and a slew of indecipherable words.

  “My sentiments exactly.” She kissed the top of Charlie’s head.

  “Do you need a hand?”

  Joe Callahan stepped off the porch and headed toward her.

  “I’ve got it, Mr. Callahan. Thank you.”

  He met her halfway up the walk. “Call me Joe. And you—” he held out his hands for Charlie “—can call me Papa.”

  “Pap-y,” Charlie repeated in his singsong voice and leaned forward for Joe to scoop him up. Her son, the extrovert.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  Joe was already swinging Charlie above his head, much to the boy’s delight. “What a handsome fellow,” he said. He smiled at Julia. “He favors his beautiful mother.”

  Julia couldn’t help but return his grin. “Are you always this charming?”

  Joe gave an easy laugh. “For decades I was a real hard—” He lifted Charlie again. “I was hard-nosed. A walking grim reaper. Sam and his brother got the brunt of that. I’ve learned a lot since then.”

  “Wisdom you want to impart to your son?”

  “If he’ll let me.” Joe tucked Charlie into the crook of his arm and the boy shoved his fist into his mouth, sucking contently. “You’ve already helped him start.”

  It was Julia’s turn to laugh. “I don’t have much wisdom to share with anyone.”

  Joe started toward the house. “Mothers have inherent wisdom. My late wife was the smartest, most insightful woman I’ve ever met.”

  “How old was Sam when she died?”

  “Ten and Scott was seven. It was a dark period for our family.”

  “Was it a long illness?”

  Joe turned and immediately Julia realized her mistake. “Sam hasn’t told you about his mother?”

  She shook her head, unable to hide her lack of knowledge. “It’s difficult for him to speak about.”

  Joe sighed as if he understood. “That’s my fault. After Lorraine passed, I was so overcome with grief that I shut down and made the boys do the same. Looking back, it was selfish and cowardly. They were kids and they needed me.”

  Julia patted his arm. “How did she die?”

  “A car accident,” he said quietly. Charlie rested his small head on Joe’s shoulder as if sensing the older man needed comfort.

  “How tragic. I’m so sorry for all of you.”

  “The tragic part was that it was my fault. I’d been on the force over ten years. I became obsessed with being the most dedicated cop Boston had ever seen. Like a bonehead, I took on the most dangerous assignments they’d give me—whatever I could do to prove that I was the baddest dude on the block. Lorraine couldn’t handle the stress. She begged me to slow down. I wouldn’t listen, brushed aside her worries and only focused on what I wanted.”

  He ran his hands through his hair, so much like Sam, then continued, “She’d started drinking at night—not so much that she was falling-down drunk, but enough to numb her. I was tuned out and didn’t realize how bad it had gotten. I got home late one night and we fought. She went for a
drive after the boys were in bed—to cool off. She wasn’t even a half mile from the house when she ran the red light. She swerved to avoid another car. Wrapped her car around a telephone pole. She was gone instantly.”

  Julia sucked in a breath. The first time she’d met Sam had been when he’d found her after she’d hydroplaned on a wet road and gone over an embankment, her car slamming into a tree. She’d been pregnant at the time, and thinking the accident might have hurt her baby had been the scariest moment of her life. Sam had gotten her to the hospital and stayed with her until Lainey had arrived. She wondered if he’d thought about his mother during that time, or if it had just been another day on the job.

  “How devastating for all of you.” She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Joe. Charlie squealed with delight then wriggled to be let down.

  “Okay.” She lifted him from Joe’s arms and deposited him on the porch.

  Joe swiped at his eyes. “I would have followed her in a minute. I could barely function and had two boys at home who needed me more than ever. Instead, I threw myself into the job like I was tempting fate. If they gave awards for stupidity and selfishness, I would have been a top candidate.”

  “Nothing can prepare you for something like that. I’m sure you did the best you could. Sam and his brother must know that.”

  Joe held open the screen door and Charlie headed into the house. “It should have been a wake-up call but it took me another twenty years to get my priorities straight. I want to make it right by Sam.”

  She looked into Joe Callahan’s kind eyes and her stomach twisted. Julia didn’t have much luck making things right by anyone, and if Joe knew the details of their arrangement, it would break his heart.

  “Mama, come.” Charlie peered around the doorway to the kitchen. Charlie. He was the reason she’d entered into this deal in the first place.

  “Where’s Sam?” She held out her hand to her son, who ran toward her to take it.

  Joe smiled. “Grilling out back.”

  She scooped Charlie into her arms and followed Joe down the hall. She’d guess Sam’s house had been built in the early 1900s, and he’d obviously renovated, drawing inspiration from the Craftsman tradition with hardwood floors throughout. In the open kitchen, beautiful maple cabinets hung on each wall. The colors were neutral but not boring, a mix of classic and modern traditions.