by Cate Beauman
“We’ve decided on Ava Rebecca Carter.”
Hoots and laughter erupted in the room as high fives were exchanged between Nate and Brad, while Gwen and Molly rushed up and around the table, hugging Nate and Callie from behind.
Gwen kissed Nate’s cheek. “Congratulations, little brother.”
He turned, embracing her tightly. “Thanks.”
She hugged Callie next. “I can’t believe our girls are going to grow up together.”
Callie held on. “I know. I can’t wait. We made a shirt for Ava, too, so they can match.”
“What a special day.” Mom dabbed at her eyes with a napkin, while Dad wrapped his arm around her shoulders, beaming.
“Two beautiful granddaughters.”
Mom wiped her eyes again as she looked at Molly and Brad. “Gwen and Nate are on a roll. When will you two be giving us another grandbaby to love?”
Molly’s left eyebrow winged up in the familiar Carter gesture. “Mom. Give me a break.”
Mom shrugged, dabbing again. “Don’t mind me. I’m feeling a little greedy. I want to be surrounded by grandchildren. Maybe after today, I’ll finally convince your dad to let the real estate agent put the sign up at the Arizona property.”
Brad locked his wrists around Molly’s waist, pulling her closer, holding her gaze. “Once we’re settled in the new house, and the wedding comes and goes, we’ll get serious about babies.”
Molly smiled at him. “That’s the plan.”
Not all that long ago, Brad’s wealth, career, and excellent looks had consistently rated him Boston’s Most Eligible Bachelor. His big brown eyes, sexy dimpled grin, and solid build were hard to ignore. Now he was off the market, getting ready to marry his lifelong friend.
“So, we should probably start thinking about cake,” Nate suggested.
He earned another eye roll from Gwen. “I’ll never understand where the enormous amount of food you eat goes.”
Nate grinned, patting his six-pack. “I’m gifted.”
Gwen laughed as the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.” She moved to the entryway, loving everything about today. Opening the door, she smiled at Charlie Keely, the island’s most popular florist, holding a gorgeous arrangement.
“Hi, Charlie.”
“Hey, Gwen. These are for you. Happy birthday.” He handed over the stunning vase filled with white and pale-pink roses, creamy hydrangeas, darker-pink alstroemerias, and bold green filler.
She grinned her delight. “They’re amazing, Charlie. Thank you.”
“I had fun putting this one together. Enjoy your day.” He started walking away.
“I will.” Closing the door, she brought the arrangement to the kitchen. “Guys, thank you. They’re absolutely beautiful—perfect.” She pressed her face into the flowers, breathing deeply. “I love them.”
“I don’t think they’re from us,” Brad said, looking around the room for confirmation.
Everyone shook their head.
Molly snagged the card tucked among the blooms. “Here.”
Frowning, Gwen set the vase on the island, taking the small envelope, pulling out the pretty piece of card stock.
Everyone deserves flowers on their birthday. Plus, Kaitlyn told me to. Happy Birthday, Gwen.
-Cade.
“Oh,” she said quietly, ignoring the flutters of pleasure in her belly, recognizing Cade’s handwriting, understanding that at some point after he’d left Carter House yesterday, he’d driven through the weekend madness to personally write the message and order her a beautiful birthday bouquet.
Molly smiled slyly as she peeked over Gwen’s shoulder. “Well, how about that?”
Gwen jabbed her elbow into Molly’s side. “He’s just being nice because we have a professional relationship.” But it had been ages since she’d gotten flowers from a man—and never anything as breathtaking as the arrangement on the counter.
Molly rolled her eyes. “Right. That’s definitely it.”
“Who are they from, honey?” Mom wanted to know.
“Uh, they’re from Cade.”
Mom’s smile bloomed. “He’s a lovely young man. Handsome and well mannered, very kind and down-to-earth.” She looked toward the massive windows. “That looks like him coming in off the water. Perhaps you should invite him in to join us for cake?”
Gwen followed Mom’s gaze as Cade walked through the thigh-high waves to shore, carrying his bold-blue surfboard, looking just as delicious as he had yesterday. “I’m sure he’s busy.”
“Brad and I saw him in town this morning,” Nate chimed in. “He said he was planning on taking it easy today.”
Gwen turned away from the window, feeling all eyes on her, while Brad nodded his confirmation of what Nate had just said.
“It’s the polite thing to do, Gwenyth,” Dad reminded her, his voice growing slightly stern.
She glanced at the flowers again, more touched than she wanted to be. She’d planned to save Cade a piece of cake, anyway. It didn’t have to be a big deal if he ate it now. “All right. I’ll invite him for cake.”
Gwen hurried outside, walking barefoot across the Carter House lawn, holding her phone and the long skirt of her periwinkle spaghetti-strap maxi dress in one hand, making her way to the beach. She squinted in the sunshine, realizing she’d forgotten her sunglasses as Cade set down his board, then unzipped his wet suit, pulling his muscular arms free from the snug neoprene, letting the top half settle low around his hips like he had yesterday.
Yesterday.
She’d continuously replayed their afternoon together—the antithesis of professionalism. Bare feet and crossed ankles on the living room coffee table. Teasing, laughter, and roughhousing with her client.
She’d repeatedly chastised herself for being so foolish. Mom would undoubtedly be horrified to find out that she’d behaved so poorly. But she couldn’t deny that she’d had fun. Even now, she smiled, remembering the way Cade had yanked her against him—twice—blaming the whole thing on muscle spasms.
Then her smile faded, and she abruptly stopped, realizing that there had never been one silly moment in her three-year relationship with Liam. They’d certainly laughed, but there’d never been warmth and easy affection.
It wouldn’t have occurred to Liam to be carefree and goofy. They’d done the five-star dining thing, evenings at the theater, meeting work friends at art exhibitions, and the occasional weekend away at a pretty New Hampshire or Vermont inn when it had fit into both of their busy, metropolitan schedules. Whatever they did was always high-end, dignified, and sophisticated.
For a while, that’s what she thought she’d wanted.
She hadn’t had a chance to grow entirely bored with their status quo. Six months after they’d started dating, she’d quit her job in the city to move back to the island. The Perrys had needed help at Carter Island Trust after Frank’s sudden passing, and Mom had been stuck with a couple of long-term projects that she’d struggled to wrap up after Aunt Hazel’s death.
But, mostly, she’d craved family and home.
When she reflected on the past, she couldn’t pretend that she and Liam had anything more than a long-distance relationship, spending far more time apart than together. Days and long weekends scattered here and there had hardly equaled a partnership. They certainly hadn’t been wrapped up in one another, their lives intimate and intricately interwoven in the way Nate and Callie’s or Molly and Brad’s were.
She lifted her hand in a wave when Cade spotted her. There was nothing overly dignified or stuffy about the man she smiled at now. His long, hard body disguised a playful and kind heart. And if she remembered a little too clearly how it felt to stare into his bold green eyes while his solid arm wrapped around her, trapping her against the dips and planes of his powerful chest, she pushed the memory away.
She smiled again, meeting him in the sand. “Hey.”
He smiled back. “Hey.”
She tucked her hair back behind her ear in defense against the
breeze blowing off the water. “I just got a visit from Charlie. He dropped off a gorgeous bouquet.”
He raised his brow as if he had no idea what she was talking about. “He did, did he?”
She nodded. “Thank you for the flowers, Cade. They’re truly beautiful.”
He shrugged. “It was all Kaitlyn.”
She laughed. “Well, you two outdid yourselves. I love them.”
He winked. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks. Did you enjoy your surfing?”
He looked toward the water. “I did. There were a few good waves.”
She shook her head, watching the sea rush up to meet the sand. “Molly, Brad, and Nate surf, too, but I’ve never understood the appeal—the current pulling you under and the things lurking about in the dark.” She shuddered.
He grinned. “Afraid of the tippers, are you?”
She frowned. “Tippers?”
“Great whites,” he said, snapping his teeth.
She laughed. “Yeah, I’m afraid of the great whites. There have been sightings in the past, you know—a big one over by The Point a couple of years ago.”
He shrugged. “Lightning’s more dangerous than a shark. They don’t worry me much.”
She thought back to his death-defying pictures—the one where he swam face-to-face with her worst nightmare. “That’s because you’re nuts.”
He jerked his shoulders again. “When your time’s up, it’s up.”
“What a morbid conversation.”
He laughed. “Let me change the subject, then. Next Saturday. I’ve cleared my day if you want to head to the design center.”
She nodded. “Sure. I’ll call and set up an appointment. Mom and Dad will be back next weekend, so I don’t have to worry about childcare. We should have the whole day.”
“It sounds like we’ve got ourselves a plan.”
“We do.” She swiped at her hair again, staring into his eyes, which were currently accentuated by wet, webbed eyelashes. “So, would you like to join us for—” Her cell phone suddenly started ringing. “Hold that thought.” She glanced at the screen, her happy mood vanishing as she read Liam’s name.
“Is everything okay?”
She barely heard Cade’s question. “Uh, I need to take this.” She turned away, answering. “Liam.”
“Gwen. It’s been a long time.”
She swallowed. “Yes.” She turned back to Cade, sending him a small smile, tossing him a half-hearted wave.
He waved back, then picked up his board, walking off.
She walked in the opposite direction, heading back over the lawn toward the chairs on the deck. “Um, what can I do for you?”
“I’d like to set up a time to see Kaitlyn.”
She blinked her shock, gripping the phone tighter. “You want to visit with Kaitlyn? Why?”
“Because she’s my daughter.”
She shook her head, because this was coming out of nowhere. “She’s been your daughter for the last five and a half months.”
And they hadn’t heard from him once.
“Don’t be difficult, Gwen.”
She pressed her palm to her stomach, suddenly growing sick as she climbed the two steps to the deck. This was a conversation she’d never expected. “I have some time next Sunday if you’d like to come out—”
“I’d like to have her visit here. In my home.”
“No,” she said quickly, falling into one of the chairs more than sitting. “She’s too young. I’m still nursing her.”
“I have a right to see my daughter, Gwen.”
“Yes, you do, but her needs come first.”
“I thought we decided we were going to keep things amicable—figure out our issues without involving the attorneys. Asking for two hours of my daughter’s time is entirely reasonable. She surely isn’t attached to you twenty-four seven.”
The smug bastard. He wouldn’t know one way or the other. And she hadn’t missed his subtle threat about involving the lawyers. “She eats whenever she’s hungry.”
“Two hours, Gwen.”
She impatiently pushed at her hair again with trembling fingers. “I’ll be in Boston on Saturday,” she conceded. She would have to cancel on Cade. He was just going to have to understand.
“One to three works best for us.”
She shook her head again. “Who’s us?”
“Jessica and me.”
Was he serious right now? His mistress? “Do either of you know how to change a diaper?”
“We’re intelligent people. We’ll figure it out.”
Moments ago, she’d thought great whites were her worst nightmare. “Okay,” she said, with little choice. “I guess we’ll see you at one on Saturday.”
“We’ll see you then. Goodbye, Gwen.”
“Bye.” She hung up, sitting up straight when she heard footsteps behind her. Slapping a smile on her face, she turned as Molly and Callie walked her way.
“I thought you were inviting Cade,” Callie said, bright and flushed, the picture of pregnancy bliss.
Gwen held up her phone. “Liam called. He wants to see Kaitlyn next weekend.”
Molly glared. “I hope you told him to go to hell.”
She’d wanted nothing more than to tell her ex-husband to stick it where the sun didn’t shine, but lawyers weren’t an option. She couldn’t afford the hourly rate, but more importantly, she wasn’t putting her daughter through the trauma of a legal circus, where a judge decided which days of the week and what holidays she spent with which parent. Trying to be civil and cooperative was the best option. “It’s just two hours,” she reminded herself as she spoke to her sister.
“Why did you agree to anything at all? He doesn’t deserve to see her.”
She stood. “Molly, don’t.”
Molly’s frown disappeared, and her eyes softened. “Okay. I’m sorry.” She hooked her arm around Gwen’s waist. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
Gwen nodded, swallowing back her choking emotions.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Callie asked, flanking her other side, rubbing her hand up and down Gwen’s back.
Gwen shook her head, knowing that if she tried, she would cry.
“It’s going to be okay,” Callie reassured her, hugging her closer. “What do you say we try to enjoy the rest of your day—have some cake?”
Gwen nodded, forcing another smile. “Sounds good. I can’t wait.”
Chapter 8
Gwen walked toward the water for the second time in just a few hours, carrying a cling-wrapped plate with Cade’s piece of cake on it. She’d told Mom she was heading next door to drop it off, but the sound of the waves and the cool breeze washing over her skin beckoned her in the moonlight.
Choosing a spot in the center of the beach, she sat down, bringing her knees to her chest, hooking her arms around her legs as she closed her eyes, letting the steady winds toss her hair about and work their magic.
This had always been her place, where she came to sit and reflect whenever life turned ugly—like Tanner Beal asking Kayla Martin to the prom instead of her; or when the other model was chosen as the new Guess Jeans Girl, ending her short modeling career; or the day she’d received a thin envelope in the mail, discovering that she wouldn’t be attending Stanford University after all. Silly childhood bombshells that paled in comparison to Liam’s phone call earlier this afternoon.
For a moment, she’d foolishly thought Liam had remembered her birthday—that he’d called to wish her well. It was possible he’d chosen today of all days to twist the knife, but the most likely scenario was he’d had no recollection of the date and had only been thinking of himself, per usual.
None of this made sense—Liam’s sudden interest in Kaitlyn. His participation in her life thus far had been his sperm deposit. Even after Gwen had sent him a picture hours after his daughter’s birth, she’d gotten a half-hearted response.
She’s cute. We’ll have to connect later.
But “la
ter” never came, because Liam didn’t give a damn.
She shook her head, exhaling a shuddering breath, still learning to live with the fact that she’d so thoroughly let Kaitlyn down, burdening her little girl with a poor excuse for a father. Every day, she tried like hell to be enough—to love her daughter enough for both of them. But it broke her heart that Kaitlyn would eventually understand that she wasn’t a priority in Liam’s life—that she wasn’t wanted by the man who’d helped create her. Because Gwen knew in her depths that this upcoming visit had nothing to do with a man wanting to spend time with his child.
“I’m so sorry, Baby Girl,” she whispered, watching the waves kiss the sand, closing her eyes again, finally allowing her tears to fall.
Cade sighed his contentment as he sat on the Sandersons’ rooftop deck—by far, his favorite spot at the guesthouse. The space was on the smaller side, just big enough for a love seat-type deal and a couple of side tables, but it worked for him. He spent most of his evenings outdoors, figuring it a crime to waste the beachfront views, particularly on a moonlit night like tonight.
Pulling a damn good sip of pale ale from his beer bottle, he tipped his head to the stars, certain a Sunday night couldn’t get much better. The week was shaping up to be a busy one, especially after Rod had called out sick with a nasty case of swimmer’s ear and bouts of vertigo. As the designated backup, Cade would be spending plenty of time in the air, filling in until his newest pilot was fit to fly again.
Bringing the bottle back to his lips, he paused when he spotted Gwen walking the beach, the wind molding her flowing dress to her sinful body as it blew her long, glossy hair about. He clenched his jaw, remembering the light leaving her eyes and her smile disappearing when her phone rang and she said her ex-husband’s name.
He stood, stepping closer to the metal railing, watching as she sat down, curling her arms around herself, looking small and defeated. She most likely wanted to be alone, but he turned toward the stairs, needing to make sure that she was okay. The knight-in-shining-armor routine was one he rarely donned, but something about Gwen left him incapable of moving through his days oblivious and unaffected—which had been his preference these last couple of years.