His-And-Hers Family

by Helen Lacey

  And just like that, Fiona got sucked into the Harpers’ world. And worse, was terrified she might get tossed out again when the weekend was over.

  * * *

  Wyatt drove to Waradoon Friday evening. As he eased the BMW into the driveway, the big house greeted him with welcoming warmth. And as always, the tension knotted in the center of his chest eased slowly. But not all the way. At least, not tonight.

  He parked behind Ellen and Alessio’s hulking SUV and killed the engine. After a couple of long breaths, he grabbed his iPhone and jacket and headed inside.

  The moment he stepped across the threshold, he heard voices coming from out the back and the sound of splashing water. He made his way past the wide front entrance and down the hall. He found Rosa in the kitchen, creating a variety of homemade pizzas.

  “They look good,” he said and moved to swipe a slice from the pizza she’d just pulled from the wood-fired stove his mother had installed to complement the huge red cedar kitchen.

  “You wait,” Rosa scolded, her accent thickly Sicilian even though she’d lived in Australia most of her adult life. Nearly all of those years, she’d lived and worked at Waradoon along with her husband. “Enough for esrebody.”

  “Rosalie, you’re breaking my heart.”

  “Ha,” she scoffed. “You only hungry now because you don’t eat in the city.” She looked him over and grunted. “You too skinny. You need to work less and eat and make love more.”

  Wyatt laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I’m speaking serious. A man needs love—just ask my Silvio.”

  He looked at the pizza and winked. “If I promise to love more, can I have a piece?”

  “You go,” she said and shooed him off. “Your mama been expecting you for hours. And Cecilia. Everyone waits for you.”

  He laughed, saluted and headed outside.

  Of course, the first person he spotted when he slipped through the door and onto the huge patio was Fiona. She stood at the far end of the heated pool, illuminated by the lights behind, poised and ready to dive into the water. The black high-cut bikini amplified the sheer luminescent beauty of her skin and her wet hair clung to her scalp. His body stirred, remembering...wanting.

  Mesmerized, he watched as she took a long breath, bent her knees and pushed herself off the pool’s edge. The dive was clean and swift, and within seconds she surfaced above the water.

  “Aren’t you a little overdressed for a pool party?”

  Wyatt looked to his left. Ellen had approached, hair wet, a sarong wrapped around her bathing suit and both brows raised.

  “I wasn’t aware we were having a party.”

  “Mother’s idea,” she explained. “To keep the kids happy.”

  Wyatt spotted Alessio in the shallow end of the huge pool, a toddler in each arm, while their four-year-old son, Thomas, bobbed around in inflatable floaties. Cecily sat on the edge of the pool, laughing at something Fiona had said.

  “I guess I’ll go get changed.”

  “Good idea. And keep the X-rated thoughts under wraps until we’ve all gone home, will you?”

  “What?”

  “You know what I mean, Captain Obvious,” Ellen said with a smile. “Incidentally, she’s quite the hit. I approve.”

  Wyatt didn’t respond. Instead he headed back into the house.

  * * *

  Fiona hauled herself out of the pool, wrapped a cotton sarong over her bikini and squeezed the water from her hair. Nerves set in as she padded around the edge of the pool and ignored Cecily’s pleas to return to the water.

  She headed for the patio and perused the drinks table.

  She’d sensed Wyatt’s arrival even before she saw him standing by the doors that led into the kitchen. He’d looked so good in his shirt and tie, a jacket flung over one arm, and it had taken every ounce of her self-control to remain where she was. She’d been anticipating his appearance for over twenty-four hours. A surreal twenty-four hours. The Harpers were something else. Friendly, noisy, loving...the kind of family she’d only ever imagined existed. Knowing Cecily had grown up surrounded by such warmth and caring somehow eased a portion of the guilt and grief that had lain in her heart for so long.

  Janet Harper was an übergrandmother and clearly adored Cecily and the rest of her grandchildren. Her husband, Lincoln, or Linc as he preferred, was a handsome, older-looking version of his son. He was quiet and caring and sometimes seemed just a little sad. Fiona had thought he might resent her sudden involvement with his family, considering he’d lost his oldest daughter, and now she’d resurfaced and was very much a part of Cecily’s life. But on the contrary, he couldn’t have been more welcoming. The day before he’d given her a tour of Waradoon on the back of a quad bike, showing off his herd of Wagyu cattle and the small crop of grapevines he tended to.

  Ellen, she’d discovered, was incredibly likable and her husband more good-looking than a straight man had any right to be. They were all remarkable people. Good people.

  “Shall we have that talk now?”

  Janet had come up beside her as she poured a glass of juice. Linc was at the barbecue turning burgers, and Ellen had returned to the water’s edge to urge her family to leave the pool before they wrinkled up. Wyatt was nowhere to be seen.

  “Oh, okay,” she said quietly and took a sip.

  “Are you and my son seriously involved?” Janet scooped out a ladle of punch into a glass. “I suppose I mean are you sleeping together?”

  Fiona choked on a breath. “I can’t talk about—”

  “Enough said, then,” Janet responded. “It’s your business what you do. I just don’t want to see anyone get hurt. I must say how happy Cecily is that you’re here. We all are.”

  “You’ve been very welcoming. I appreciate it.”

  “You’re part of my granddaughter’s life,” Janet replied. “It would be unwise to do anything other than welcome you here.”

  Fiona understood what she meant. “But not exactly easy.”

  “For me it’s easier than I’d expected. But then, Karen wasn’t my child. I mean, I loved her very much and she was very young when her father and I married. Her own mother had died when she was five. My husband, though, feels her loss deeply.”

  “I appreciate what you’re saying. And I have no intention of trying to replace his daughter and her role in Cecily’s life.”

  “Of course you do,” Janet said with a kind of blunt gentleness that made Fiona straighten. “You are Cecily’s mother. You carried her. You gave birth to her. That’s a bond no one but a mother could understand.”

  “Yes,” she said quietly. “It is a bond. I can hardly believe how strong it is sometimes.”

  “A mother’s love is like none other.” Janet’s eyes strayed to the pool. “When I had Wyatt, when I held this tiny baby for the first time, I felt something so deep, so all-consuming. It was impossible to imagine I could love another human being so much. And it brought Linc and I closer together, made our love stronger.”

  Emotion tightened her throat. “I’m sure it did.”

  Janet nodded and patted her shoulder. “It must have been hard on your own, and being so young, I can only imagine. It was insensitive of me to say that. One day, I’m sure you’ll have the opportunity to share the experience with the man you love.”

  Fiona felt as though two hands were wrapped around her heart and squeezing. “Mmm.”

  What could she say? Guess what...the man I love is your son.

  “Karen loved Cecily very much. Above all others.” When Fiona’s eyes widened, Janet continued. “Yes, even Jim. But I suppose Wyatt has told you all about that.”

  He hasn’t told me anything. “He said they had a few problems.”

  Janet nodded. “Karen was focused on Cecily. Jim worked long hours. T
hey stopped communicating. To give them credit, I think they genuinely did want to make it work.” Janet let out a long breath. “And perhaps they would have—if it hadn’t been for that thing with Yvette.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Yvette?”

  Fiona heard the word leave her tongue. A sickly feeling reached down low. Suddenly she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear any more.

  “Yvette and Jim,” Janet said quietly. “A messy business. But families can be messy—even the happiest of families.”

  Yvette and Jim.

  Wyatt’s fiancée and his sister’s husband. Fiona had seen a picture of the pudgy, nondescript man on the stairwell wall. Yvette and Jim. Was it possible? Of course, because Janet had told her so. It simply seemed impossible. Wyatt had told her his ex-fiancée had been unfaithful. And Jim had cheated on his wife. Imagining the two of them together, as realization dawned, brought a sour taste to her mouth.

  Such betrayal. Her heart lurched for Karen Todd. Her insides ached for Wyatt.

  Why didn’t he tell me?

  She hurt through to the marrow of her bones. His silence was another obvious example of how little she meant to him. If he’d cared, he would have trusted her. If he’d cared, he would have spoken to her over the past couple of weeks.

  “He’s always been a closed book,” Janet said with more intuition than Fiona could stand.

  She didn’t want her life on show. Her dreams. Her wants. She couldn’t bear Janet seeing her helpless and wishing for something she sensed would never be. She was in love with Wyatt. She didn’t imagine she’d get past those feelings anytime soon.

  “We’re not...” She stopped and denied herself the sudden urge to tell this woman everything. Janet wasn’t one of her girlfriends. She was Wyatt’s mother. Her loyalty would lie with her son. “I’m here for Cecily. I have to be.”

  “I understand you want to do the right thing by your child.”

  Your child...

  Fiona blinked back tears from her eyes. “I do. I will.”

  “And you don’t want to be derailed?”

  Did this woman know everything? Fiona couldn’t believe Janet had figured her out in a little over twenty-four hours. “No, I don’t. And Wyatt...”

  “Never lets anyone know what he’s thinking? Or feeling?” The other woman smiled. “I know, it’s infuriating. Don’t be put off by it—underneath he’s as vulnerable as the rest of us.”

  She smiled but didn’t believe a word of it. “I think I’ll go change now.”

  Janet nodded. “Good idea. Rosa will bring out the pizzas, and Linc will be serving his infamous burgers shortly.”

  Fiona smiled again and headed off in the direction of the guesthouse. The one-bedroom suite had a huge living area, bathroom and fully equipped kitchenette. It was attached to the rear of the main house and was luxury personified. Every detail, from the rich cream-and-coffee-colored furnishings to the wide French doors that opened onto a small patio with its own hot tub, to the freshly cut flowers and thick white comforter on the bed, which was piled with about a dozen pillows, made her feel as if she was staying at a five-star hotel.

  She grabbed her green knitted dress off a hanger and changed in the bathroom. It took a few minutes to attack her hair with a dryer, and she finger-combed it for a moment before heading back into the living area. Her feet came to a stop when she spotted Wyatt outside, standing by the hot tub with his back toward the house.

  The sun had all but gone down and the overhead light made his dark hair shimmer. He’d changed into jeans and a pale blue shirt, and her insides did their usual flip-flop. He really was too gorgeous for words. After a second, she walked across the room and slid the screen open a little.

  He turned instantly. “Hey.”

  “Hi.”

  His gaze traveled over her slowly. “It’s good to see you.”

  “You, too.”

  They were being so polite she wanted to scream.

  “Are you comfortable here?” he asked, gesturing toward the guesthouse.

  “Yes, very much.”

  “Cecily said you were sick yesterday. Are you all right?”

  Fiona made a mental note to quiz her daughter on what to say and what not to say to people. Especially to Wyatt. “I’m fine. It was just a headache. I never travel well—even short trips.”

  “But you came anyway?”

  “For Cecily—yes.” She pushed the screen door back fully. “I’ve missed her.”

  And I’ve missed you, too.

  His arms looked strong and safe, and Fiona fought the urge to fall into them. “Your family has been very kind to me.”

  “Just as well,” he said quietly. “Or they might get a dose of your red-haired temper.”

  “What temper?”

  He smiled. “Can I come inside?”

  “Of course,” she said and stepped aside. “It’s your house.”

  “Actually, it’s my parents’ house,” Wyatt said as he crossed the threshold. “But it’s my home. At least for the moment.”

  Fiona glanced at him. “And your apartment in the city?”

  He shrugged. “A place to sleep. I own some land about ten miles east from here, and I’ve been thinking I might build a house on it one day.”

  She wondered if he’d planned that while engaged to be married. Perhaps he’d wanted to build a home for his new bride? Now that his engagement was over, the “one day” he talked about was probably some faraway moment in the future.

  “Fiona?” He moved closer, watching her with burning intensity. “What are you thinking?”

  “That having a home base closer to the city will cut down your commute.”

  He looked skeptical. “That’s it? Anything else?”

  She took a breath, as deep as she could, and wrapped her arms around her waist. She wanted answers. “I’m wondering why you didn’t tell me it was Yvette who had the affair with Jim.”

  Wyatt visibly paled. “How did you—”

  “Your mother told me,” she answered, cutting him off. “Without an agenda, I might add. I presume she thought you would have told me yourself. I’m guessing she thought we were more involved than we actually are,” Fiona said and pushed back the pain knocking against her rib cage. “Cecily hasn’t exactly been keeping anything a secret.”

  “No,” Wyatt agreed. “She hasn’t. Cecily wants you permanently in her life. If we were together, she’d get that.”

  “But we’re not,” Fiona said and figured there was no point in sugarcoating the situation. “Right? Because if we were, you certainly would have told me about how the woman you were going to marry slept with your sister’s husband.”

  He went to say something, then stopped. Thinking, planning his words. “It’s not a subject I enjoy talking about.”

  Fiona pulled back a frown. “Is that all I get?”

  He stared at her for a moment and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “What’s the point in rehashing the past? Talking about it won’t change anything.”

  Janet had called her son a closed book. Fiona felt like shaking him. “Do you have so little trust in me? So little faith in...” Us. She longed to say it but couldn’t.

  He scowled. “It’s not about trust.”

  “Of course it is,” she retorted. “If you trusted me, you’d share something...anything.” Fiona gripped herself rigidly. “My God, I feel like such a fool. I fell apart right in front of you. I told you everything. I told you things I’ve never shared with anyone else. And you held me and said I wasn’t alone. Do you know how hard it is for me to talk about my past, especially Shayne and what happened that night? Do you know that I never, ever cry like that?” She swallowed the stinging emotion in her throat. “From the first moment we met, I’ve tried to be the true
st version of myself. I had to be for Cecily’s sake. I couldn’t keep anything from you in the end. I knew I had to let you know me, so that you would let me know my daughter. I thought...I guess I thought I was getting the same honesty in return.”

  He let out an exasperated sigh. “What do you want me to say to you?”

  She moved forward and placed her hand on his chest. It was their first touch in weeks, and she felt the vibration of his heart beneath her palm. “I want you to say what’s in here. I want you to tell me what happened.”

  Wyatt stepped back and her hand dropped. “Tell you what? That I caught them together in my own apartment? That I wasn’t supposed to be home that weekend but my meeting was canceled and I thought I’d surprise Yvette because I knew she was staying there overnight? Do you want to know exactly where I caught them? And what they were doing? It’s not a pretty story. None of it.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “Do you also want to know that I had to stop myself from smashing Jim in the face? And that after I’d hauled him outside, he begged me not to tell Karen?”

  “Wyatt, I—”

  “You wanted to know,” he said bitterly. “Here it is...I found my fiancée in my bed having sex with my sister’s husband.”

  Bile rose in Fiona’s throat. “Wyatt, I’m so sorry. Did you tell Karen?”

  He shook his head. “I gave Jim twenty-four hours to come clean with his wife.”

  “And did he?”

  “Sure,” Wyatt replied. “Then a bad situation got worse.”

  “I don’t understand?”

  He exhaled heavily. “Karen wanted someone to blame.”

  “Then she obviously blamed Yvette? Or her husband? He was the...” Fiona’s voice trailed off when she saw Wyatt shake his head. “She couldn’t possibly have blamed you.”

  “She did,” he said flatly. “It was a messy time. Christmas, in fact.”

  “Cecily said something to me,” Fiona told him quietly. “About how you didn’t show up on Christmas Eve.”

  “She remembers that? I’m not surprised. There wasn’t a lot of Christmas cheer going around at the time.”