Her Kind of Trouble (Harlequin Superromance)

by Sarah Mayberry

  No, she would go. She would say the right things to Seth, to Dennis and Melissa. If she was lucky, she might get a chance to spend some time with Daisy.

  She pressed a hand to her chest, bearing down on the ache there. And after the funeral she would come home and be kind to herself until she stopped wanting something she couldn’t have.

  In the meantime, she would simply have to live with the hollowed-out feeling behind her rib cage and the hot, pressured feeling behind her eyes.

  Resolved, she sought the comfort and oblivion of sleep.

  * * *

  SETH HAD A crappy few days before the funeral. Daisy was fractious, and he wound up taking her to the clinic on Sunday afternoon because he wanted reassurance that he wasn’t overlooking anything. He wasn’t, they assured him, so he took his daughter home and invested in more pacing, jiggling and cajoling in an attempt to soothe her. Vivian kept slipping into his thoughts, and finally he gave up trying to distract himself from thinking about her.

  She’d touched his life profoundly—touched him profoundly—and he was resigned to the idea that she would be with him, in his head, his gut, his blood and his dreams, for a while. There was no pretending otherwise. There was even a twisted kind of comfort in the notion.

  Yeah. That was how messed up he was.

  By the time Tuesday morning rolled around he was raw-eyed from lack of sleep and feeling more than a little frayed around the edges.

  The perfect mindset for a funeral.

  He dressed with care, thinking of Dennis and Melissa and what this day meant to them. Wanting to do the right thing by Lola.

  Predictably, Daisy threw up on his suit jacket as he was about to start the long process of loading all her paraphernalia in the car. He tried sponging the mark, then wound up stripping off his grey suit and putting on his navy one. They were running ten minutes late by the time they hit the road, and he hit speed dial to call Jason, knowing his perennially punctual brother would be there and could pass on a message to Dennis and Melissa in case they were worried.

  It wasn’t until his brother picked up that Seth remembered that he was still royally pissed with him after the big-brother lecture he’d received Saturday morning. The only thing that stopped him from hanging up was the fact that his brother had caller ID and would know it was him.

  “It’s me,” he said coolly. “Just wanted to let you know I’m running late, in case anyone is worried.”

  “I’m coming from work but I’m almost there. I’ll pass it along.” His brother sounded unnaturally stiff.

  “Good. Thanks. I appreciate it.” Seth, too, sounded as though he was talking to a stranger, but he figured that was his brother’s fault, not his. Jason hadn’t bothered to pick up the phone to apologize since reading him the riot act, and no way was Seth going to be the one who extended the olive branch.

  No way.

  “How’s Daisy?” Jason asked.

  “She’s fine.”

  “Good to hear. Which way are you coming?”

  “Down through Camberwell to the freeway, then onto Springvale Road.”

  “Might be worth jumping on the EastLink if you want to make up time,” Jason suggested neutrally.

  Seth’s patience was already thin and his brother’s careful conversation shredded what was left of it.

  “For God’s sake. Is that the best you can do?” he snapped.

  “What?”

  “If offering me route suggestions is your way of apologizing for Saturday morning, you’re going to have to try harder. A lot harder.” He changed lanes and jockeyed for position at the lights.

  “I wanted to talk to you in person. After the funeral,” Jason said.

  “Fine, do that, if that’s the way you want to handle it,” Seth said shortly, reaching for the button to end the call.

  “You’re still pissed with me.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  “What do you think?”

  “I was out of line. I realize that. As you said, what you and Vivian do is between the two of you. You’re both old enough and ugly enough to work it out for yourselves.”

  His brother was saying all the right things, yet Seth could hear the “but” lurking beneath his words.

  “But you still think I’m a sleazy, opportunistic asshole, right? That I’m taking advantage of her?” He was so tired, and a part of him had been spoiling for a fight with someone—anyone—since Vivian had left.

  Jason’s heavy sigh came down the line. “I told you, I overreacted, and I said stuff I shouldn’t have. I apologize for that. But I’m not going to apologize for looking out for Vivian and being worried about her. You don’t know her the way we do. She’s not as tough as she likes to pretend.”

  “You think I don’t know that? Vivian has a heart the size of the moon,” Seth said hotly. “She likes to come across as cynical and on top of things, but she chooses to see the good in everyone. She would lay down her life for the people she loves.”

  There was a short pause.

  “Okay. Maybe you know her a little better than I thought you did.” Jason sounded confused.

  “Vivian and I understand each other. We always have. I like her more than almost anyone else I know, and if you think I’d voluntarily hurt her or take advantage of her, you really do need your head read.”

  Another pause.

  “I thought you guys weren’t seeing each other anymore,” Jason said.

  “That’s right.”

  “Even though you like her more than almost anyone else you know?”

  It was amazing how revealing his words sounded when they were being parroted back to him.

  “I should probably concentrate on the road. I’ll see you in thirty minutes, okay?”

  Seth ended the call before his brother could ask more probing questions. The last thing he needed was his brother running to Jodie with some story about how besotted Seth was with Vivian. Neither he nor Vivian needed that kind of speculation buzzing around them. They’d made their clean break, kept things neat and tidy. He wasn’t about to be the one to make them messy. It felt like the least he owed her.

  Plus it makes it easier for your ego. Let’s not forget that bit, stud.

  Fine. And it made it easier on his ego. Since it was all he had left, he figured he was allowed to preserve it.

  He was fifteen minutes late by the time he unstrapped Daisy from her car seat, put her into her stroller and made his way to the Wilson Chapel at the Springvale Botanical Cemetery. People were milling in the foyer still, and he relaxed a notch when he realized that he and Daisy hadn’t held things up. He spotted his brother first, then Jodie, and was about to make his way to them when Dennis and Melissa waved from across the room. He corrected his course, glancing around the crowd. It wasn’t until he spotted Vivian that he realized he was looking for her.

  She was wearing a deep blue dress that made him think of a black-and-white movie from the thirties. She stood in profile to him, her eyes covered with large sunglasses as she talked to her parents.

  She looked so good his step faltered. The urge to go to her, simply so he could be close to her, so he could hear her voice and look into her eyes, was almost overwhelming.

  He tore his gaze away and focused on the Browns.

  “There you are. And there’s our sweet girl. Can I hold her?” Melissa asked eagerly, already reaching for the baby.

  “Of course,” Seth said easily. Daisy was a living, breathing balm, and he figured Melissa and Dennis would need their fair share of cuddles today.

  He watched as Melissa arranged Daisy’s blanket to ensure she was warm in the chapel’s air conditioning. Lola’s mother had seemingly aged since arriving in Australia, and Seth had to look away from the grief in her eyes as she stroked her granddaughter’s cheek. He glanced across the room in time to catch sight of Vivian following Jodie and Jason into the chapel.

  One day it was possible he would be able to watch the provocative sway of her walk and not be affected, but t
oday was not that day. God help him.

  “We should go in. I think they want to start,” Dennis said.

  Seth piloted the stroller, walking behind the Browns as they made their way to the front pew. He recognized a few of Lola’s friends in the crowd, as well as his own parents. Again, he couldn’t stop himself from searching for Vivian’s face. He found her sharing a pew with his brother’s family. She’d taken off her sunglasses, and for the briefest of moments, their gazes clashed. He was the one who broke the contact, busying himself setting the stroller to one side as the Browns sat.

  She looked beautiful. He wasn’t sure if he’d seen her in that particular shade of blue before, but it suited her supremely.

  Stop it. Today of all days, let it go. Let her go.

  Easier said than done. He inhaled sharply through his nose, then fixed his gaze on the celebrant who was waiting at the lectern for everyone to be seated. After a few minutes, music came up—the Dixie Chicks’ “Lullaby,” one of Lola’s all-time favorites—and people slowly fell silent. Seth listened to the lyrics about love and forever and knew this was going to be a tough hour.

  Lola had not been his love, but she had been his lover. They had had some good times together. He’d enjoyed her, and he hoped she’d enjoyed him. He hoped that he’d never made her unhappy, that he’d never given her cause to regret the night she walked into Night Howls and took a seat at the bar.

  “Good morning, everyone. I’d like to welcome you to the memorial service for Dolores Alice Brown,” the celebrant said as the last notes of the song faded. “As we all know, Dolores preferred to be known as Lola, which her mother tells me suited her much more, and that is how we will remember her today.

  “Lola was born two days early during a cold winter in Yorkshire twenty-four years ago. She was the much longed-for younger sister to Tom, and the daughter Melissa and Dennis had been hoping for to complete their young family. From the start Melissa says she knew Lola had a mind of her own....”

  Seth bowed his head as he listened to the celebrant outline Lola’s too-short life. Zara was invited to speak next, and Seth found himself laughing along with everyone else as Zara recounted some of her friend’s more outrageous antics—the time Lola had tried to talk her way into an exclusive restaurant by pretending she was famous, the time she’d sent herself flowers to pique the interest of someone she worked with, her obsessive love for all things Dr. Who, especially if they involved David Tennant.

  Another of Lola’s friends spoke next, then Melissa passed Daisy to him while she and Dennis walked to the lectern.

  “You’ll have to forgive us if we get a bit messy,” Dennis said, his already watery gaze scanning the audience. “Lola was our girl, our little firecracker, and we’re still trying to get our heads around the fact that she won’t be ringing up from the other side of the world with some outrageous tale, or clomping through the door in her sky-high heels.”

  Daisy was restless, so Seth put her in the stroller and rocked it back and forth, hoping the motion would settle her.

  “As you’ve probably gathered, our Lola was a bit of a character. Never let no get in the way of a good time was her philosophy, and she prosecuted that belief to the hilt. As you can imagine, she led us on a merry dance through her teen years, and I don’t mind admitting that there were times when we both despaired of her ever being fit for decent company.”

  A ripple of laughter ran through the room, and Dennis took advantage of the pause to dab at his eyes with a folded handkerchief.

  “She turned out pretty bloody amazing in the end, though, I’m sure you’d agree....”

  Dennis talked about what a good friend and daughter Lola had been, and how excited she’d been about coming to Australia. They’d worried for her being so far away from home, but they’d looked forward to her frequent emails and phone calls. When he talked about the accident, his voice became thick with emotion and it was clear he was struggling to continue. He paused, his face quivering as he attempted to regain his composure. After a beat of concerted effort, he shook his head, signaling he couldn’t continue. The celebrant stepped forward, only to hesitate when Melissa reached out to tilt microphone her way.

  “I wasn’t going to speak. Didn’t think I’d be up to it. But there’s something I want to say. Something I want you all to hear.” Her voice was thready with emotion, her face creased with grief. “My relationship with Lola wasn’t perfect, and there are things I would change if I could go back. But I can’t. I can’t tell Lola how proud I am of her. I’m not sure I ever did that enough. I can’t tell her how in awe of her I was. And I can’t tell her how much I love her. I’ll never be able to do that again. All I can do is stand here in front of you and tell you that Dolores Alice Brown was an amazing woman, and I will be proud that she was mine until my dying day. It’s not enough, but it will have to do. Thank you.”

  Melissa’s regret was a palpable thing, a ghost at the feast. Seth swallowed a lump of emotion and focused on his hands where they gripped his knees. How terrible to realize too late what was important, to never be able to right the wrongs of the past.

  The celebrant took control of the mike, wrapping up the ceremony by inviting everyone for refreshments in the foyer. Music came on, this time Coldplay’s “Paradise.”

  Seth took a moment to wipe the tears from his cheeks, feeling hugely exposed even though he knew if there was anywhere a man was allowed to cry, it was at a funeral. He stood as Melissa and Dennis returned to their pew looking shrunken and weary, as though the simple act of getting through the ceremony had diminished them. He watched them sink onto the pew and wished he had something to say that would offer them even a scrap of comfort.

  Typically, nothing came to him, and he glanced to where the rest of the mourners were making their way through the double doors into the foyer for the promised tea, coffee and cakes.

  “Why don’t you stay in here for a while?” he suggested quietly. “Take a moment to catch your breath, and I’ll bring you both a cup of tea.”

  Melissa nodded, her gaze on the stroller, and Seth knew what she was asking with her saying a word.

  “Daisy can stay here with you,” he said.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Seth rested a hand on her shoulder, then turned away, woefully conscious of his own inadequacy. He was too scared of saying the wrong thing, of inadvertently increasing their pain. It was far safer to retreat to the foyer and do something concrete like stand in line for tea than wade into such deep emotional waters.

  His mother came over to talk to him as he waited for the tea, and he agreed with her that it had been a lovely ceremony and that, yes, it was incredibly difficult for the Browns. He could see Vivian’s bright head out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t let himself so much as glance her way. He felt...flayed after the Browns’ heartbreaking eulogy. He wasn’t sure he would be able to mask his own want if he let himself look at her.

  He made two cups of tea, realizing belatedly that he had no idea how the Browns took it. He settled for grabbing a few sugar sachets and giving them both a dash of milk before returning to the chapel, where he found Dennis holding Daisy. He and Melissa appeared marginally better.

  “I wasn’t sure how you liked it, so I hope it’s okay,” Seth said as he handed a cup to Melissa and set the other on the pew beside Dennis.

  “This will be fine,” Melissa said with a small smile. “I hope everyone doesn’t think we’re rude, staying in here for a moment.” She glanced over her shoulder uncertainly.

  “They get it. My mother asked me to pass on that she thought it was a lovely ceremony. Beautiful was the word she used.”

  “Oh, good. We wanted to do Lola justice,” Melissa said.

  They were silent for a beat, and the conversational hum in the foyer filtered into the room.

  “I should probably circulate a little,” Seth said. There were people he needed to thank for coming, people who had come to support him.

  “We’l
l be out in a minute,” Dennis said.

  Seth slipped into the foyer and scanned the room for people he should speak to. Zara, and Syrie and Jack from the bar, had come. Jodie and Vivian’s parents had put in an appearance, too.

  Somehow, he found himself making his way to where Vivian stood with his brother and sister-in-law. He was unable to keep his distance a moment longer.

  “Thanks for coming, guys,” he said.

  Vivian’s mascara was smudged, presumably because she’d been crying. She looked sad and beautiful, warm and real. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to stop himself from pulling her into his arms.

  She wasn’t his to comfort. She never had been.

  “How are the Browns holding up?” she asked.

  “They’re okay. Exhausted, I think,” Seth said.

  “That was a pretty special speech they gave. Straight from the heart,” Jason said.

  “Yeah, it was.”

  He could smell Vivian’s perfume. The sunlight streaming through the windows made her hair glow. The ache of his need for her, his want, was a physical pain in his chest and belly.

  It’s over. You had your chance, and she called time. Suck it up and move on.

  “I should keep doing the rounds, but I wanted to say thanks for your support. Not just today, but since this whole thing blew up.” He sounded stiff, too formal, but there wasn’t much he could do about that.

  “You’re family, Seth. We’ve got your back,” Jodie said simply.

  He ducked his head in acknowledgement. She leaned forward to kiss his cheek, then his brother slung an arm around him and gave him a half hug, his fist thunking Seth’s back with a dull thud. Seth told himself it would be weird if he didn’t kiss Vivian, too, so he turned to her. He looked into her eyes for the briefest second before focusing on the spot near the angle of her jawbone that he planned to kiss. Her skin felt warm and soft beneath his lips, and he breathed in deeply before stepping back.

  He tried to think of something else to say, something innocuous, but he was too busy fighting the inexplicable push of tears. It hit him then that Vivian would be the single great regret of his life. The one he never got right. The one who might have made everything work.