by Cate Beauman
Walking through the grass, he slipped out of his black slides when he made it to the sand, then moved her way. “Gwen?”
She perked up, quickly swiping at her cheeks. Looking up, she smiled. “Hi.”
The curve of her lips did nothing to fool him as tears dried on her flawless skin. “Hey.”
He sat down next to her, refusing to give her the opportunity to pretend that all was well and move on.
She wrapped her arms around herself again. “The beach is beautiful tonight, especially the moon.”
He nodded. “It is.”
She handed him the plate she’d set next to her. “I was bringing you your slice of cake.”
He studied the generous piece of chocolate, raspberry, and buttercream wrapped in plastic. “Score one for me. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. It’s heavenly, but that’s no surprise, since Molly made it.” She tried smiling again.
He stared into her shattered eyes, clearly seeing the wounded vulnerability Molly had spoken of. “What’s wrong, Gwen?”
Her smile disappeared as she shrugged, swallowing instead of answering.
“Is it your ex?”
She looked toward the water. “I’m afraid I have to cancel our Saturday plans. Kaitlyn will be spending a couple of hours with her father.”
Was that the problem? Reluctant visitation? “Do we need more than that? We’ll go while Kaitlyn has her visit—kill two birds with one stone.”
She shook her head. “We won’t be left with much time. Getting from Liam’s place to the design center and back will leave us barely an hour.”
“So, we’ll see what we can accomplish with the time we have.”
She looked at him again. “That seems unproductive.”
Currently, he didn’t give two shits about productivity. She was sad and trying so damn hard not to show it. There was no way he was letting her go to Boston by herself—to deal with whatever this was alone. “Which is my decision. I’d still like to go.”
She jerked her shoulders again. “If that’s what you want.”
Long moments passed as the waves crashed and receded in their rhythmic, hypnotic flow.
He studied her profile—her perfection—wanting to pull her close and soothe her. But he kept his wrists locked around his legs, well aware that they had a long way to go before Gwen would allow him to touch her freely. “I’m sorry he makes you so unhappy.”
She let her forehead drop to her knees for the briefest of seconds. “I’m learning that there’s a price to pay for being blind—for being stupid.”
He frowned at her assessment of herself. “You’re not stupid, Gwen. You’re anything but.”
Her gaze met his again. “I appreciate it, but in this case, I was quite dumb.”
“They say he’s a bastard.”
Her brow furrowed slightly. “Who says?”
He shrugged. “This is a small place. Rumors aren’t hard to come by.”
Sighing, she nodded. “He certainly can be.”
He wanted her to tell him more—all of it. “What can I do? How can I help you?”
“You can’t.” Her eyes filled, and a tear spilled over. “No one can.” She swiped at it impatiently, then abruptly stood. “I should head up. Monday morning will be here before we know it.”
“Gwen.” Standing, he snagged her hand before she could turn away.
“What?”
“Happy birthday. For what it’s worth.”
She smiled, brushing away another tear. “Thank you.”
He slid his thumb along her knuckles. “You deserve better on your special day. You deserve better every day.”
She squeezed his fingers. “Thank you. Good night.”
“Good night.”
She gave his fingers another quick squeeze before she let him go, then started toward the bright lights of Carter House.
Chapter 9
Cade stood next to Gwen on Boston’s busy Blue Line. He took a step closer to her in the packed car, reaching out and steadying them both as the train moved over a rough spot on the tracks, jostling them from side to side.
She looked good—sleek and sexy in the black halter jumpsuit and sandals she wore for their city trip, while he’d dressed far more casually in black golf shorts and a white collared top. But there was nothing casual about the start to their afternoon.
“Thanks,” she murmured, sending him one of her small smiles that didn’t reach her eyes.
“No worries.” He tossed her an easy wink, using the constant bumping and swaying of the subway as an excuse to keep his arm loosely wrapped around her waist—the only support he could offer her when she was so obviously struggling. It was impossible not to tell as she tightened her death grip on Kaitlyn’s stroller.
“It’s the next stop,” she quietly reminded him as the train began slowing down again.
He moved closer yet, his chest pressing against her arm when the doors opened, letting more passengers into the car and only a few off. “I remember. The aquarium.”
She nodded, looking down, her shoulders growing tenser when they accelerated again.
“We’ll get a little work done, then pick Kaitlyn up before you know it.”
She nodded a second time, but she didn’t respond.
He exhaled a quiet sigh, at a loss for how to help her. He'd spent the last two and a half hours in Gwen’s company. Gone was the relaxed, carefree woman he’d shared lunch with a week ago. Today, she’d hardly said anything at all. During the preflight check on the island, he’d glanced back from the cockpit in his private plane, watching her staring out the window, absently twirling her hair while Kaitlyn slept secured in her car seat.
When Gwen woke the baby for a diaper change and feeding shortly after they landed, she’d insisted that she was fine the one time he’d been foolish enough to ask—as if she would have said anything different—even when they both knew it was bullshit.
He’d meant to check on her throughout the week after her teary goodbye on the beachfront Sunday night. They’d bumped into each other on Tuesday afternoon when she’d stopped by to double-check measurements in a couple of the boarding areas. Then, Thursday morning, he’d spotted her walking into the large building Mini and Rebecca owned on the airport’s property that housed various furnishing and accessories for the staging aspects of their businesses. But there’d been little time for more than a quick hello and wave. They’d both been too damn busy.
The train slowed again as their stop was announced.
“Excuse us,” he said, parting the way, helping Gwen get the stroller onto the platform before the doors closed.
“Thank you.” She checked her watch, beelining it to the elevator, pressing the up button. “This thing always takes forever.”
He frowned because it had been mere seconds. “We have plenty of time—twenty minutes.”
“I know. I just want to be there soon, so we can get this over with.”
The elevator door finally opened, and they stepped inside.
Gwen gave the button several jabs to send the car moving.
Christ, she was wound tight. He opened his mouth to start a conversation—to distract her from whatever it was that made the idea of leaving Kaitlyn with her own father dreadful. But he closed it again, figuring that they had two hours after they dropped the baby off to talk.
Moments later, they were out of the elevator, walking the short distance down the old cobblestone streets by the wharf in the sunshine.
“It’s this one here.” She stopped in front of one of the newer buildings with a view of the harbor.
“Gwen.” The doorman stepped outside, his strong Bostonian accent apparent in the one word. “It’s been a long time.”
She smiled at the balding, friendly fortysomething man. “Hi, Murray.”
“You had your little one.” He peeked in the stroller, where Kaitlyn slept. “She’s beautiful—looks just like you.”
“Thank you.”
“Are yo
u heading up?”
“I am.” She turned her attention to Cade. “I’ll be down shortly.”
He held her unreadable gaze. “Do you want me to come with you?” Because he wanted to get a look at the man who’d been stupid enough to let Gwen Carter walk away.
She adamantly shook her head. “I’m all set.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Take your time.”
She nodded, her movements stiff and jerky as Murray opened the door for her, chatting with her on her way to the elevators.
Sighing again, he stepped off to the side, hoping that focusing on the airport design for the next little while would help take her mind off her troubles, because he sure as hell hadn’t been much of a comfort.
Gwen clutched the handles of Kaitlyn’s stroller as the elevator brought them closer to the twentieth floor. She’d been dreading this moment since she’d hung up with Liam last Sunday afternoon, yet here they were. She was actually doing this, leaving her baby girl in the care of two strangers—a man who had no clue how to change a diaper, and the woman Gwen had caught her husband in bed with.
She’d spent the entire week agonizing about today. Monday through Friday had passed in a blur of work obligations, guilt attacks, and restless nights, where her busy brain imagined worst-case scenarios in vividly detailed dreams.
This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Kaitlyn was supposed to be at home on the island, settling in for her after-lunch nap in the place where everyone who loved her best was a part of her world.
Nibbling her lip, she smoothed the light blanket over her daughter, making certain she wasn’t too hot or too cold, worrying because Kaitlyn’s routine was a mess again. How would her little girl behave when she woke up? Would she be fussy and eager to snuggle and nurse? Would Liam and Jessica have the patience and know-how to console a grumpy baby?
“Oh God,” she whispered as the elevator stopped, sliding open on the floor she used to call home when she stayed in the city. “Oh God,” she said again, nearly hitting the down button, wanting to get back on the T and head for Cade’s plane. But she stepped into the hallway instead, walking to apartment 20-15, knocking, remembering that being cooperative was better for Kaitlyn in the long run.
Liam opened the door, wearing navy-blue chinos and a white button-down. Health-club fit and handsome with light-brown hair and blue eyes, he certainly wasn’t dressed for spending an afternoon with a baby. “Gwen.” He smiled politely as he opened the door wider. “Come in.”
She stepped inside, studying the new décor in the space she’d painstakingly made urban-cozy. Now it was white on white on white—white walls, white area rugs on dark wood floors, and white furnishings. The only break in the monochromatic design came from the oversized black abstract paintings hanging in various spots throughout the living room.
It was cold. Sterile.
Her gaze wandered to the breakables scattered here and there, and the knickknacks centered on the glass coffee table—choking hazards if Kaitlyn were mobile. Not baby-safe. Not her daughter’s home. “You’ve changed things,” she said, glancing toward the city view, the only thing that remained familiar.
Liam shrugged. “Jessica prefers simpler.”
“I see,” was all she said as she pulled the diaper bag off her shoulder. “I imagine we should go over—” The no-nonsense click and clatter of high heels on the hardwood floor interrupted her. Gwen turned her head, staring as Jessica walked her way from the bedroom in beige crop pants and a matching blazer—office attire, not get-down-on-the-floor-and-play-with-a-baby clothing.
“Gwen.” Jessica smiled coolly. “I didn’t realize you’d arrived.”
“Here I am.” She made her lips curve in return, studying the beautiful dark-haired woman, remembering that her feelings toward Jessica didn’t matter. The next two hours were about Kaitlyn.
Jessica stepped closer, peeking in the stroller. “She looks just like you.”
“That’s what I’ve been told.” She moved to take Kaitlyn out of the car seat. “Would you like to hold her?”
Jessica’s brown eyes grew wide—panicked. “Uh, no.” She took a step back in retreat. “She can stay in the stroller.”
The sinking sensation returned in Gwen’s stomach, the low-grade nausea that had plagued her for days. She’d been hoping Jessica had some experience with children—because Liam certainly didn’t. “I changed and fed her when we landed, but she’ll need her diaper checked and a bottle when she wakes up.” She looked at Liam now, watching as he replied to a text or email on his cell phone. “Do you know how to warm the breast milk?”
“Huh?” he responded absently.
“Kaitlyn’s food,” Gwen said testily, getting his attention.
He shoved his phone away, his annoyance unmistakable—the same patronizing stare he’d sent her on more than a few occasions. She’d bothered him, distracting him from his important work. “We’ve got it, Gwen.”
It didn’t look like they had it. It didn’t look like they had it at all.
“You’ll have to warm the milk. Stick the bottle in a glass of warm water. But don’t make it too hot. You’ll burn her and kill the nutrition.” She walked over to the fridge without invitation, opening the door, noting the sparse offerings—a bottle of white wine, berries in a bowl, and goat cheese—as she set three bottles on the empty top shelf. “If you take Kaitlyn somewhere, you’ll need to be sure she’s covered with her blanket. The breeze coming off the water is cool today. She also has a couple of changes of clothes. She spits up occasionally when she’s burped after she eats.”
Liam scratched at his clean-shaven jaw, then crossed his arms. “We’re all set, Gwen.”
She glanced from Liam, to Jessica, to her baby, innocent and sleeping, oblivious to what was going on. “You have my number if you have any questions or need anything.”
Jessica nodded. “We’ll call if we need to.”
“I’ll be at the design center, working with a client, but I can leave at any point.” She walked back to Kaitlyn, kissing her forehead before looking at Liam again, noting that he had yet to pay attention to his daughter. “I’ll be back in two hours.”
He nodded. “We’ll see you then.”
She moved to the door, glancing back at her ex-husband as he pulled out his phone again while Jessica stared at Kaitlyn as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do with her. Forcing herself to turn the knob and leave, she stood in the hallway, listening. When all remained quiet, she hurried to the elevator, making herself get in, then started the journey to the lobby.
“Two hours,” she murmured, glancing at her watch, the numbers growing blurry as her eyes filled. This wasn’t okay. This wasn’t the right decision for her daughter, but what was she supposed to do?
The doors opened again, and she rushed from the lobby, crashing into Cade as she stepped outside.
“Whoa.” He wrapped his arm around her, catching her before she fell back from the force of their collision. His smile disappeared as their eyes met. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything.” She held his gaze, recognizing the concern and compassion radiating from his gorgeous green eyes—her undoing. Her tears started falling, streaming down her cheeks. “I can’t do this, Cade. I can’t leave her here.”
She turned to go back inside.
“Wait a minute, Gwen.” He snagged her hand, holding on firmly. “Come here.” He led her farther away from the door, where Murray watched them, bringing her around the side of the building, boxing her in. “What’s going on?”
“This was a mistake.” She sucked in a shuddering breath when her voice broke. “I shouldn’t have brought her here. I tried to tell myself that this was okay—that it wouldn’t be any different than dropping her off with Kay.” She shook her head, struggling with a sob. “But it’s not the same at all. I need to go get her.”
He slid his thumbs along her cheeks, catching her tears. “It’s two hours, right?”
She nodded, gripping his wrists, needing to h
old on to something—to hold on to him. In a moment of weakness, she nuzzled herself against his big hands, finding comfort in his touch. “Basically, a lifetime.”
He smiled his sympathy, caressing her jaw with a brush of his knuckles. “Is she safe?”
“Yes.” She wiped at her own tears this time when they wouldn’t stop falling. “I don’t think they’ll hurt her or anything, but they’re not happy to have her there, either.” She sniffled as her heart ached. “I know we’re supposed to go to the design center, but I can’t. I’m sorry, but I’m waiting here in the lobby instead.”
He shook his head, moving his palms along her arms. “That’s not a good idea. If they come down and see you, I doubt they’ll appreciate it.” He looked to his right, toward the laughter, noise, and music by the waterfront. “Come have some lunch with me right over there at the pub. I see a plate of nachos that looks awesome.”
She shook her head this time. “I’m not hungry.”
His hands made gentle trails back up, then down again in soothing strokes. “Let’s give it a try. The sun’s warmed things up considerably. We’ll get a table outside, so you can stay close.”
Somewhere in her frantic brain, she knew Cade was right—that he was the rational one. “All right.”
He sent her another smile, stroking her cheek, wiping away the last tear. “How about a couple of deep breaths before we head over?”
She took two as he did, holding his gaze, refusing to cry even when she wasn’t sure she was finished.
“Better?”
She nodded as her chin trembled. “I think so.”
“You’re doing fine, Gwen.” He hooked his arm around her waist, snuggling her against him, walking with her down the street. “Let’s get a bite.”
Chapter 10
Gwen sat next to Cade at one of the smaller tables facing Liam’s building. The umbrella blocked the worst of the early afternoon glare, making it possible to see who was coming and going half a block up the street. Perhaps her current parenting approach was ridiculous and overbearing—a new mom hang-up—but she didn’t care. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for Kaitlyn—and that included spying on two adults who likely couldn’t handle the demands of a fifteen-pound infant.