by Nicola Marsh
She glanced away, stared out the window, as if lost in a memory. “Trust me, I wish I’d known all this with Tam.”
Her bottom lip wobbled a fraction before pressing against the other, compressing in a thin line, effectively stopping him from asking any more.
“Thanks. I’ll take your advice on board.” He leaned across to kiss her cheek. “When do you want me to get started on the fair?”
Cilla took another moment to compose herself before turning back to face him. “I made a stack of notes while I was having coffee at the hospital. The folder’s in my bag. I’ll get it for you, then I’ll go see Sara.”
“Okay.”
But as Cilla gathered her documentation and gave it to him, he couldn’t help but wish he was the one seeing Sara again.
16.
Cilla usually liked her solitude but she’d never been so grateful to see Jake when she got home. Ironic, considering the reason she’d gone to the hospital in the first place was to escape Jake and Olly.
But talking with Jake meant she could focus on other things. The fair. Olly. Sara.
Anything but Bryce.
Even now, as she strolled down her driveway toward Sara’s house, she couldn’t believe she’d agreed to have dinner with him.
He was forty-two years old.
Eighteen years her junior.
And in the two times she’d seen him this week, he’d made her feel more aware as a woman than she had in decades.
The way he looked at her . . . Her skin pebbled at the recollection and her palms grew sweaty. If he made her feel this jittery by chatting, how the heck would she get through dinner? A few hours sitting across from him, watching him fork food into his mouth, watching those lips move . . .
Cilla stumbled and cursed. “Get a grip,” she muttered, fanning her cheeks, which had automatically heated when she thought of the two of them alone.
Though technically, they wouldn’t be alone at dinner. She’d see to it. Once he chose the place, she’d meet him there, so there would be no time together in a car. She’d bid him farewell in the restaurant too, avoiding any potential awkward goodbye outside.
Yes, that sounded like a plan. Now if only she could quell her nerves for the interminable few hours during which they’d be eating together.
She could back out of it. Fake an illness. Make up an excuse. But if Bryce was willing to go to the lengths of involving Sergio to ask her out, he’d be persistent.
As for the small part of her, buried deep, that responded to him on a level that involved attraction and flirting and sex . . . well, maybe that was the real reason she wouldn’t pull out.
Because for the first time in a long time, she felt like a woman. A woman to be admired and charmed. A woman willing to revel in her sexuality rather than hide it away. A woman who didn’t fade into the background because that’s what she’d done her entire life.
When she reached Sara’s, she’d mentally sorted her wardrobe and found it lacking in suitable attire for dinner with a suave younger man. And mentally kicked herself in the backside for caring.
She rapped on the door much louder than she’d intended, anger at herself making her hand shake. She’d been encouraging Jake to get out and about because he hibernated too much, yet the thought of her first dinner date with a man in forty-odd years was turning her into a wreck.
When the door opened and Sara stared at her, one eyebrow quirked, she forced a smile. “Hi. Hope I’m not interrupting?”
Sara shook her head. “You saved me from cleaning out the kitchen cupboards. Want to come in?”
“Sure.” Cilla followed Sara inside, slightly ashamed that she’d never been inside until now.
Issy had been a lovely woman and while Cilla had valued her friendship, she’d deliberately kept her at arm’s length. Cilla had spent so many years skulking in her own home, unable to have people over because of Vernon’s moods, that she’d grown accustomed to her solitude as normal even after his death.
She’d treasured the peace of her home once Vernon had died, had protected it fiercely. Yet as she followed Sara toward the back of the house, and saw the artwork Jake had mentioned lining the hallway, she felt ashamed.
“Jake told me about your pyrography,” Cilla said. “You made all these?”
Sara glanced over her shoulder and nodded. “I was obsessed. Whenever I visited Gran, I’d spend the entire time burning designs into wood.”
Oddly enough, Cilla couldn’t recall Issy’s granddaughter visiting. Then again, she wouldn’t have noticed back then, too busy protecting Tam from Vernon to bother about what was going on with her neighbors.
“Actually, that’s what I’ve come to see you about,” Cilla said, pausing on the kitchen threshold.
“Really?” Sara pushed a button on a fancy coffee machine, and Cilla didn’t have the heart to tell her she was already wired from hospital caffeine—and a hospital doctor.
“I was wondering if you’d be willing to donate a few pieces to a fair I’m organizing?”
A tiny frown appeared on Sara’s brow, not at all encouraging, so Cilla continued. “There’s an eight-year-old boy, Sergio, with leukemia. He’s the eldest of four kids and his folks are having a hard time with medical bills, so I’m trying to raise funds to help.”
Sara’s frown line softened. “He’s eight? That’s so sad.”
Cilla agreed but now wasn’t the time to debate the injustices of the world, especially with a woman who had lost her child so young. “He’s a fighter, though. And has a good chance of beating the cancer. But his parents are finding it tough and I’d like to alleviate their stress any way I can. Provide funds they may need for further treatment.”
“That’s kind of you.” Sara nodded, her expression pensive. “I would’ve given anything to have extra time with Lucy.”
Cilla saw Sara swallow several times and she waited, giving the young woman time to compose herself.
After a few moments, Sara continued. “Whatever I can do to help, let me know.”
“That’s wonderful,” Cilla said. “Your work is unique and I have no idea how much time goes into creating each piece, so whatever you want to donate will be fine.” She hesitated, unsure whether to broach the subject of Olly or not, before deciding to take the plunge. “Olly loved what you made for him.”
Sara’s lips softened into a small smile. “He’s a cute kid.”
“Is it difficult for you, being around children?”
When Sara’s eyes widened with surprise at her bluntness, Cilla said, “Jake mentioned that Olly upset you when you first met.”
Sara gnawed on her bottom lip before nodding. “I’ve avoided kids since I lost Lucy. Even now, twelve months later, I can’t go down to my work shed at the back of the property on the off-chance I’ll hear them laughing or see them having fun.”
Ah: the children’s camp bordered the back of Sara’s property. Cilla’s heart ached for Sara’s loss. She might not be close to Tam, but at least she could pick up the phone when she wanted and hear her voice.
“We all work through our grief in different ways,” Cilla said, leaning forward to give Sara’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t rush it, but don’t shut yourself off completely either.”
“How did you cope when you lost your husband?” Sara managed to look sheepish. “Hope you don’t mind but Jake mentioned he committed suicide.”
“I don’t mind.” Cilla shrugged. “The whole town knows the story. Besides, it happened twenty years ago.”
If Cilla’s bluntness, bordering on callousness, surprised Sara, she didn’t show it.
“How long did it take you to move on?”
“About a week, which was seven days too long,” Cilla said, biting back a smile at Sara’s round-eyed shock. “Vernon was abusive. Our marriage was a nightmare. And I lost my daughter’s respect because I put up with it for so long.” Sadness filtered through her bravado as it always did when she thought of how she’d inadvertently driven Tam away, when all
she’d wanted to do was protect her. “Tamsin left for college and didn’t come back, except for her father’s funeral.”
“I’m sorry,” Sara said, looking like she wished she’d never brought up the topic. “For everything you had to go through.”
“Likewise.” Their gazes met and held, two women joined by memories of suffering and survival.
Cilla stood. “Anyway, I better be getting back. I’ve put Jake in charge of planning the fair layout and I’m sure he has a thousand questions.”
“You sure you wouldn’t like a coffee?”
“Thanks, but I’m fine.”
However, as Cilla walked back to her home, and her thoughts returned to Bryce and their upcoming dinner, she knew she was far from fine.
Hopefully the restaurant Bryce booked served Valium-spiked shots for pre-dinner drinks.
17.
It had been a week since his aunt had advised Jake to take a firmer hand with Olly.
It hadn’t helped.
When it came to his nephew, Jake couldn’t do anything right.
He’d tried spending a lot of one-on-one time with the kid: had taken him to explore the town, taken him for ice creams, taken him to the park. While Olly seemed to enjoy hanging out with him, he reverted to angry and resentful when Jake least expected it. That was when the going got tough, because Jake didn’t know how far to discipline Olly.
Cilla had said to take a firm stand, to set boundaries. But she hadn’t told him how to handle a six-year-old whose eyes could fill with tears on cue as he stared at you with condemnation.
So after seven days of what he considered serious bonding time with his nephew, Jake needed a break. He lined up Cilla to mind Olly while he scouted the final locations for the fair. Hopefully, with a friend in tow.
He knocked on Sara’s door, wondering if his physical reaction to her had cooled. He hadn’t spotted her once in seven days, despite keeping an eye out for her in town, in her garden or even moving about inside her house. But the woman was like a ghost. Which was why he’d thought of her for this expedition. According to Cilla, Sara needed to get out of the house as much as he did.
This was his good deed for the day. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact he couldn’t wait to see her again. As she opened the door, wearing a white sundress covered in tiny daisies, held up by the thinnest straps he’d ever seen, and as heat surged through his body, he had an answer to whether he’d cooled physically toward her.
“Hi, Jake.” She offered a tentative smile and dammit, a jolt shot directly to his groin.
“Hey, you busy?”
“Depends why you’re asking.” Her smile widened. “If you need me to help weed Cilla’s extensive garden, I’m busy.”
“Nothing like that.” He found himself grinning like a loon right back at her. “I have to make a final decision on a location for the fair and thought you might like to tag along and offer an opinion?”
She hesitated, as if the thought of spending time with him alone was fraught with danger.
“Shouldn’t take more than an hour,” he added, slightly disappointed that she didn’t seem interested in his company at all, when she hadn’t been far from his mind over the past week.
“Okay.” She grabbed her keys off the hall table near the door and closed it. “Actually, I’ve finished a few pieces for the fair. You can pick them up when we get back.”
“Sounds good.”
They drove around town, checking out the school’s sports oval, the park near Main Square, the church grounds. None of them had particularly grabbed him so he left the best for last, hoping she’d like it as much as he did.
Crazy thing was, before the plane crash, he’d never second-guessed his decisions. Ever. In his occupation, he’d quickly assessed situations, weighed up facts and proceeded accordingly. That’s what had ultimately cost him, and cost those innocent people their lives, because he’d ignored his gut instinct and stuck with the facts.
“You okay?” Sara half swiveled in her seat to face him. “You get this look on your face sometimes, like you’re really down.”
“It’s nothing,” he said, too quickly, and her face fell. “Sorry, I don’t like talking about it.”
“Tell me to shut up if you want, but is it Olly?”
“That too,” Jake said drily, shaking his head. “Seriously, it’s nothing.”
“‘Nothing’ wouldn’t make you look like this.” She frowned, her eyes cross-eyed and her mouth pulled down in the corners.
He laughed. “I don’t look like that.”
“Yeah, you do.”
He liked this teasing side of her, liked how it made him feel: like there could be lightness in the world again, despite the darkness that plagued him.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” she said. “One day we’ll talk about our pasts, preferably over a dozen bottles of tequila, but that day’s not today.”
Nor would it be any day, considering he didn’t drink and had no intention of divulging what he’d done.
“Okay.” His abrupt agreement made it sound like hell would freeze over before they’d talk about their pasts.
She shrugged and returned to looking out the windshield, her blasé dismissal surprising him. Most women liked to pry. He hoped Sara’s lack of curiosity didn’t indicate disinterest too. “Where’s this last place?”
“We’re almost there.” He pointed to the giant sign up ahead. “Here we are.”
Sara made a weird half-choking sound, and he glanced across to find her as pale as her dress, her jaw clenched and her hands fisted.
“What’s wrong?” When she didn’t answer and her stare turned catatonic, he pulled the car over.
“Hey, tell me what’s wrong.” He had no idea whether she’d welcome a friendly touch on her hand or shoulder, so he waited.
She blinked, breaking that eerie stare. “Are there kids in that camp at the moment?”
Damn, so that was the reason behind her mini-freakout.
“No. It’s booked for varying weeks over summer break but is empty at the moment.” He quashed his reservations and reached for her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I saw how you reacted with Olly the first time. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Thanks,” she said, her voice wobbly. “I know it’s crazy but I can’t face being around kids. Hearing their chatter and laughter. Seeing the excitement on their faces. It hits me right here.”
She thumped her fist over her heart. “I know I need to get past losing Lucy but it’s so damn tough.”
He released her hand to prevent from following up on his urge to hug her. “Have you tried being around kids?”
She shook her head. “I can’t even go down to my old work shed, which borders the camp, because I may see or hear them.” Her teeth worried her bottom lip, drawing his attention to it, and damned if he didn’t want to kiss her too. “How messed up is that?”
“We all deal with the hard stuff in our own way.” Considering he hadn’t been near an airport, let alone a plane, since the crash, he reckoned they were both ostriches, happy to avoid facing their terrors. “Would spending time with Olly help? Ease you into being around kids?”
Her rigid shoulders relaxed a little. “He seems like a good kid.”
“So that’s a yes?” There was more behind his offer and he made an instantaneous decision to come clean. “Actually, you’d be doing me a favor.”
“How so?”
“I’m struggling,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t think less of him when she learned the extent of his incompetence. “Olly blows hot and cold with me. One minute he’s fine, the next he hates me. Cilla said I need to take a tougher stand. I’ve tried that and while I value her opinion, her daughter moved out over twenty years ago and I need help from someone who was a parent more recently.”
Hell, he was babbling, sounding like an idiot. He gritted his teeth and glanced out the driver’s side window, wishing he’d never brought this up.
“Jake?”
>
Her voice sounded stronger and he turned to face her, glad when he saw acceptance and understanding rather than censure on her expressive face.
“I’d like to hang out with you and Olly.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” he said, suddenly eager to be out of the confines of the car before he followed that crazy impulse to kiss her. “Might do us all some good.”
“Maybe.” She smiled and pointed to the sign. “Shall we go check out this place?”
“You bet.” He fired up the engine and drove the last hundred yards to the camp. “I left this for last because I think it’s perfect for the fair, but I’d like to hear what you think.”
“You value my opinion that much?” She’d reverted to teasing him again and he liked it. He liked it a lot.
“Depends if your opinion matches mine or not.” He smirked. “If you disagree, I’ll make you walk home.”
“Considering I could hop over the back fence, that’s an empty threat.”
“Try me,” he said, as he pulled over in front of the main entrance and killed the engine, enjoying their lighthearted banter a hell of a lot more than their previous conversation.
“Maybe I will,” she said, her smile fading as her gaze fell to his mouth, and damned if he didn’t want to haul her across the gearshift and kiss her until they were both breathless.
“I’ll look forward to it.”
With a wink, he flung open the door and all but tumbled out of the car in his haste to get away from the woman who tempted him more with every passing second.
She intrigued him on so many levels. Her vulnerability made him want to protect her. Her sweetness made him want to hold her. Her sexiness made him want to do things to her that he shouldn’t contemplate.
The faster they scouted this place and he dropped her back at her place, the better.
18.
When Jake dropped Sara home, she handed over the pieces she’d done for the fair and cited an important phone call so he’d leave pronto.
She’d liked scouting around town with him, had enjoyed the company, but he made her feel discombobulated in a way she never had before.