DING.
“Are you fricking kidding me?” he asked, pulling away from me.
“Was that the front desk?” I asked, arching my eyebrow.
DING.
“But who would be ringing the bell?” I wiggled from his grasp and made my way toward the door.
He grabbed my hand, stopping me. He kissed me once more then pressed his forehead into mine. “Come back to me when you’re done.”
“I will.”
While he began cleaning up the water mess, I trudged through the dining room, dripping the whole way as I cursed over knowing I’d have to clean these floors again too.
DING.
“All right! I’m coming.” I trotted around the corner and into the foyer, meeting the back of a man standing at the desk. “May I help—”
The man spun around. “Hi Rachel.”
“Paul? What are you doing here?”
TWENTY-THREE
“Why are you all wet?” Paul asked, his eyes tracing from my head down to my feet.
“The faucet broke and don’t change the subject. What are you doing here?”
“Don’t you want to dry off?”
I gritted my teeth and clenched my jaw. “It’s fine. I will clean up the mess after you tell me what in the heck you are doing here.”
“I came to see you.” Paul rested one arm on the desk and leaned on it. His smile was awkward as he waited to see what I would think and say next.
“You came to see me? I don’t understand.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about your mom?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
Of course, it was about him. “Oh, spare me your fake concern.”
“It’s not fake. I mean, I know you two had your differences, but I liked her. I always enjoyed the time we spent with her and James.” He glanced around the foyer. “Where is James?”
“He’s in the hospital.”
“What?”
“His cancer is back and has spread. He also had a heart attack so he’s been there for a few days.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“Why would I?” I folded my arms across my chest, raising my voice.
“Well, is he going to be okay?
“Not that it’s any of your business, but the doctor doesn’t think he has much time left. Weeks at most.”
Paul moved toward me with his arms outstretched. “Oh, Rachel, I’m so sorry.”
I raised my hands, moving away from him. “Don’t. Don’t comfort me. Don’t touch me. Don’t even come near me.”
“Rachel, after all the years we were together and all we went through, are you really going to act that way?”
“Uh, let me think . . . yes. What are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you be home with your fiancée and your son? Or is she your wife now?”
“She’s not my wife or my fiancée, and the boy isn’t my son.”
Although shocked to hear, I didn’t show it. Why would I want to? What did I care about him or his life?
“Well, you know what they say, don’t you?” I asked, continuing before he could answer. “If they cheat with you, they will cheat on you.”
“But to pass off the baby as mine?” He pressed his hand against his chest as though the words hurt him.
“Maybe she genuinely didn’t know. I mean, if you’re the type to sleep with another woman’s husband and who knows how many other guys, then you probably aren’t smart enough to know who the father is when you get knocked up.” I snorted at my own mock. “How did you find out? Did she tell you?”
“I could tell the minute he was born. His . . . skin . . . he isn’t mine.” He wiggled his eyebrow as though to say the words without actually saying them.
While I didn’t want to, the thought of laughing crossed my mind. The utter poetic nature of it all amused me, as did the ironic humiliation he faced. Yet, no matter how much I wanted to revel in his turmoil, I couldn’t. To do so would be cruel—even if he deserved it.
“Well, I’m sorry she did that to you,” I said, my voice was dry, emotionless.
He glanced up at me. “You are?”
“What am I supposed to say, serves you right?”
“That’s what I expected.”
“Just because you are heartless, doesn’t mean I am.”
“Which is something I always have loved about you.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, growling under my breath as I opened them. “Don’t say that.”
“But it’s true. I still love you. I miss you. I shouldn’t have left. I shouldn’t have cheated. I was wrong.” He pointed toward a suitcase lying at his feet. “Please, let me prove to you how much I wish I could change the past.”
“You think you can just come into my inn and say all these things and I would just forgive and forget and take you back?”
“Well, no, I know it will be work on my part.”
“No, it won’t be work because you aren’t staying. You aren’t getting a pass to waltz back into my life as though once again my life is your choice.”
“My choice? What does that mean?”
“You decided I wasn’t good enough and I had to leave everything I’d built for myself, and now you have decided I am good enough, and you expect me to just fall right back into your arms?” I rubbed my fingers across my forehead, chuckling at the thought of what was happening.
“But I’ve—“
“You don’t get to make the choice!” Although I didn’t mean to shout, I did. My voice pitched with a volume I didn’t know I had. It wasn’t high, like a little girl begging and pleading, it was deep, as a woman finally standing on her own two feet, telling someone how she would and wouldn’t be treated. A voice I had lost for so many years. “You don’t get to have the say anymore, Paul.”
Footsteps thumped across the dining room floor and as I turned slightly, Luke came around the corner and through the door.
“Are you all right? Why are you—” He caught my ex-husband out of the corner of his eye and faced him. “Who are you?”
Paul’s head jerked. “Funny. I was just about to ask you that?”
Luke squared his shoulders, puffing his chest as he moved ahead of me as though putting himself between Paul and me. “Well, I asked you first.”
To match Luke’s stance, Paul stood a bit straighter. However, the difference between my tall and slender ex-husband and the stout . . . ex-boyfriend . . . or boyfriend—I really didn’t know in this moment—made Paul’s attempt a little laughable. As though if it came to blows, there would be a question of who would win.
“I’m Paul.”
“Ah, the ex-husband.”
“And you are?”
“I’m Luke Dawson. I’m an old family friend, helping Rachel with the remodel.”
“And the ex-boyfriend, I assume, from high school.” Before Luke could say anything, Paul stepped forward, folding his arms across his chest. “I think it’s time to go back to wherever you came from so we can finish our conversation.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Rachel,” Paul fixed his eyes on me. “If you don’t tell him to leave, I will make him.”
Luke braced himself in his stance, and his body seemed to get bigger—however it was possible I didn’t know. “I’d like to see you try.”
“I know your type. You come back into her life, thinking you can just weasel your way in again. She dumped you, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember. And you dumped her. What’s your point?”
“My point is you need to get out of here.”
Luke snorted a breath and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re going to have to make me.”
Before I could utter a word or think to react, the two men lunged for one another. Their bodies collided, and from the size and strength of Luke, Paul was knocked off balance in the first few seconds. He stumbled backwards, his body slammed into a small table in the foyer. As he lunged for Luke again, the vase on the table wobbled. I jumped to grab it, but
it fell before I could reach it and hit the ground. The ceramic shattered against the wood floor, scattering in thousands of pieces with a huge crash that echoed through the foyer.
The two men ignored the noise, and continued to wrestle throughout the room, slamming each other into the walls and knocking the pictures askew.
“Hey! You two stop!” My shouts, no matter how many times I repeated them also went ignored. “Luke! Paul! You’re going to wreck my foyer. Stop it or get out!”
“What’s going on?” a voice called out from the stairs.
As I spun, Charlie bounded off the last step and rushed toward the two men locked together. He got between them, his size much like Luke’s, and he shoved them both backwards away from one another.
“Enough! Both of you need to back off before you break something.”
“They already did.” I pointed toward the floor.
“See? Look!” he said to them.
Both men heaved with heavy breaths as they stared at one another. The veins throughout Luke’s arm popped under his skin and while he appeared uninjured, Paul’s lip was bleeding and he was bleeding above his eye. He bent over, more out of breath than Luke.
“This is between the two of us, old man,” he said to Charlie.
“I don’t care who it’s between. Take it outside before you wreck this inn.”
Paul sucked in a few more breaths as he shoved his hands on his hips. “Rachel, tell your uncle to butt out.”
“He’s not my uncle. He’s a guest, and he’s right. Get out before you ruin my foyer.”
“Rachel,” Paul faced me, wiping the sleeve of his shirt across his forehead.
“No! You don’t speak. Not right now.” I pointed at the door. “Get out.”
He shook his head, sticking his hand out to motion toward Luke. “Are you serious about this guy?”
Luke stepped forward, his chest taught and the muscles in his arms clenched once more. Charlie placed his hand on Luke’s shoulder, stopping him.
“That’s none of your business,” I said to Paul as I moved between the two men.
“Rachel, come on, I know you better than you think I do. I remember all the stories you told me about this town and this place . . . and him.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” As I stared at him with my mouth gaped open, I tried to recount anything I would have said negative about Luke. I couldn’t remember anything. “We broke up because I wasn’t ready for marriage. It wasn’t because of anything he’d done. He’s a good man, Paul, and one, I might add, who wouldn’t have banged a barista in the bed he shared with his wife.”
“So that’s that, then. You are with him?”
“No, that’s not what I mean. I don’t know what we are, but again my life is none of your business.”
“What are you even doing here? I thought you loved New York. I thought you loved you loved your job, and I thought you loved our house.”
“I did, once.”
“So, come back with me and find our love again.”
“No, Paul. I don’t love anything about the city anymore. I’m not going back to you. To New York.”
He dug his hands into his waist and began to pace in front of me as he muttered to himself under his breath.
“Fine.” He stopped, facing me. “I’ll move here then.”
“What?”
“I’ll quit my job and sell the house and move here. It can’t be hard to run an inn. Your parents did it.”
While he snorted as if he’d made a joke, I stared at him, unable to fully comprehend what he was saying.
“Are you drunk?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows together.
“What? No, I’m not drunk. What do you mean asking me if I’m drunk?”
“Because people usually say such stupid things when they are under the influence of alcohol.”
His eyes narrowed and he cocked his head to the side. “What did I say that was stupid?”
“That you were moving here and going to run MY inn with me as if we are going to reconcile.”
“But we are.”
“No, we aren’t.”
He stepped forward, reaching out for me. “Rachel.”
I backed away, holding my hands up in front of me until my backside ran into Luke behind me. Whether instinct or not, I didn’t know, but he wrapped his arm around my waist and I laid my hand on him. “You need to leave,” I said.
“I’m not leaving.”
“If I have to, I will call the cops, and have you escorted off my property.”
“One night. Just give me one night here and have dinner with me. That’s all I’m asking for.”
“No. I will not give you a night. I will not give you a dinner. Get out of my inn. Get out of my life.”
He stepped toward me again. Before I could say another word, though, both Charlie and Luke intercepted him. The two of them grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him out the door, tossing his suitcase along after him.
After watching the three men, I spun and darted through the dining room, in and out of the kitchen, and out onto the back deck.
Tears pooled in my eyes, but I fought them, blinking them away. I didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to give Paul the satisfaction of breaking me down—even if he’d never witness it. No matter how hard I tried not to, his words repeated in my head. How could he now want me back? Oh, wait, that’s right, because his little fling cheated on him. His picture-perfect life crumbled at his feet and he thought he could come crawling back to me.
“Are you all right?” a familiar voice asked from behind me.
I faced Charlie, nodding as I exhaled a deep breath. “Where’s Luke?”
“He’s out front, making sure your ex-husband gets into his car and leaves.” A slight chuckle whispered against Charlie’s tone. “He’s quite in love with you.”
“Who? Paul?”
“Luke.”
I heaved another deep breath as I folded my arms across my chest and nodded again.
“Question is, are you in love with him?” Charlie asked.
I met his gaze and smiled. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Make sure I’m okay and talk to me about my life as though you are a dad giving advice to his child.”
“I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“Don’t apologize. I didn’t mean for that to sound as though I didn’t want or need the advice. I only meant you aren’t obligated to care.” I blew out a breath. “Wow. That sounded even worse. I just meant I’m okay with working things out on my own. You see I was never a good a daughter. I kept my parents at arms length. It was awful of me, I know now, but at least I can say it has helped me cope with the knowledge that one day they both won’t be around at all.”
I laughed at my own words.
“Kind of an awful thing for me to say, isn’t it?” I asked, but continued before he could answer. “Treated my parents like they meant nothing and now I’m trying to say it was a good thing because now I can live without them.” I sucked in a breath and shook my head. “Trouble is, I don’t think it will work. I need them. I’ve always needed them.”
“At least you will have Luke to lean on.” Charlie ducked his chin, clearing his throat. “I didn’t mean to sound like a dad again. I guess the whole dad gene doesn’t go away, even when you lose your child.”
“You lost your child?”
“A daughter.” He waved his arm as though he wanted to wave off any pity I might show. “Oh, it was a long, long time ago. But not a day goes by I don’t think of her, and my late wife. I didn’t get much time with either of them. It’s a regret I will carry to the grave.”
“I’m sorry for your losses.”
“Thanks.” He cleared his throat again, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants. “So, I guess for the sake of not wanting to sound like a dad for a third time, I won’t tell you that your parents knew you loved them, even if you didn’t show it much. It’s just something we know.
Just as I’m sure you know they always have and always will love you.” He cocked his head, giving me a wink. “I also won’t tell you I think you need to go inside and tell that boy how you feel. What I’ve seen in both of you is exactly what everyone saw in my late wife and me. He looks at you the same way she looked at me. You should tell him how you feel.”
“So, you don’t think it’s too late for us?”
Charlie laughed. “Is love ever too late?”
“It’s a shame your daughter missed out on such a great dad.” I moved toward him, rubbing the side of his arm with one of my hands. “You’ve been the best first guest I could have asked for, and you would have made even a better dad.”
His eyes misted with tears and he gave a slight nod. “I think I’m going to take a walk along the beach. Give you guys some time alone in the inn.”
“Is he gone?” I asked Luke as I closed the door to my office.
He paced near the window. The veins in his arms poked out from under his skin and they looked like rivers on a map up his arms.
“Yes. Watched him drive down the road after I almost had to shove him into his car.”
“I’m sorry you had deal with that.”
We both stared at one another for a moment, and I suddenly felt taken back to a night years ago when he knelt down in front of me on the beach, holding a ring box. It hadn’t been anything more than a simple gold band—as it was all he could afford at the time. But with a smile on his face, he asked me the question every young girl wants to be asked. What would life have been like if I’d said yes that night instead of saying no and walking away? Would we have stayed in Shadow Brook—or at least would I have stayed while he went off to basic training? Would we have children, or would we have waited until he got out of the Navy? So many questions that we would never have answers to because I’d chosen a different path for us.
Just like Paul chose for him and me.
“I don’t know why he thought he could just come back,” I said. “I don’t ever want to see him again and I don’t want him back.”
Another Yesterday Page 24