*
* *
Mick had been restless all day. He would have attributed it
to worry about Jess and wanting to be sure nothing would go wrong on this night
that meant so much to her, but he knew better. It was all about Megan. He
hadn't been able to get her out of his mind for days.
Normally he would have gone out to a job site to distract himself, but he'd
made a vow to himself to stick close until after tonight's party and tomorrow's
grand opening, just in case Jess or Abby needed his help with anything. Not
that either of them were in the habit of turning to him, he thought with
regret. He'd taught them years ago not to count on him.
When the silence started to get to him—or rather when his obvious agitation
started to drive Gram crazy—she was the one who suggested he go for a walk on
the beach. "You used to enjoy that," she reminded him. "Back
before you got so driven that you didn't have time for the things that really
matter."
He grinned at her. "Leave it to you to turn a simple suggestion into a
lecture on past sins."
She laughed. "I have to sneak my points in when I can. Now, go. It's making
me nervous watching you pace up and down in my kitchen. I have to finish baking
for the crowd who'll still be here tomorrow morning. I expect Connor and Bree
are going to want my cinnamon rolls for breakfast." Her expression turned
nostalgic. "It'll be nice to have a full house again, won't it,
Mick?"
He nodded. "I wish Kevin were going to be here."
Gram squeezed his shoulder. "He'll be home soon. Let's focus on
that."
"Getting him out of Iraq won't happen soon enough for me."
"Nor me."
He bent down and kissed the top of his mother's head. "I'll get out from
underfoot. You're right. A walk on the beach sounds like the perfect way to
clear my head."
She studied him knowingly. "It's filled with thoughts of Megan, isn't
it?"
He nodded, seeing no reason to deny it.
"That's natural enough. I hope Abby knew what she was doing inviting her
back here."
Mick sighed. "I doubt she had any idea, but there's no question her heart
was in the right place. Abby's always wanted this family to be at peace. I'm just
not convinced we can pull that off in a couple of days."
"Well, nothing beats a try—"
"But a failure," Mick said, completing the familiar refrain. "I
think Abby got her determination and optimism from you."
"Maybe," his mother said. "But she got her big heart from
you."
Mick wasn't so sure about that. As he walked to the beach, he tried to remember
the last time he'd let anyone get close, opened his heart to another person,
even his kids. Megan's departure had robbed him of his ability to trust or to
love. Worse, he'd never been able to blame her for going. After all, in essence
he'd gone first, taking job after job in places that required him to be gone
for weeks, even months at a time. What sort of arrogance had made him think any
woman would put up with that, even a wife as devoted as Megan had been?
He remembered with vivid clarity the way she'd looked on the day she'd told him
she'd had enough. It had been on this very beach with the wind in her hair,
color high in her cheeks and a depth of sorrow in her eyes that had almost
brought him to his knees. He'd been about to beg her to change her mind when
she'd touched a finger to his lips and shaken her head.
"It's too late," she'd said, her lapis-blue eyes welling with tears
of regret. "You are who you are and I can't ask or expect you to
change." Her hand slid to his cheek. "I'm so very proud of the work
you've done. This town is a real community, just the way you envisioned it. I
just wish you'd spent half as much time building our family. I love you, Mick,
but I can't stay here any longer. Bearing all the responsibility is smothering
me."
Back straight, chin high, she'd walked away from him then. Only because he knew
her so well, loved her so much had he known that she walked away crying.
He'd shed plenty of tears of his own that night, alone in their bed because
she'd already moved into a guest room after they'd argued yet again. He wasn't
too proud to admit it. He was, however, too proud or too stupid to go crawling
after her the way he should have done. He hadn't tried to stop her from getting
into that taxi, either. That was the regret he'd live with till eternity.
He looked up then and, as if his thoughts had conjured her, he saw Megan a
hundred yards ahead, walking toward him. The shock of seeing her again stopped
him in his tracks and because she was looking down, watching the froth of waves
against the sand, he had time to drink in the sight of her.
Her hair was much shorter than he'd ever seen her wear it, but it suited her
face. The color in her cheeks was from the sun, not makeup, and her lips were
coated with some kind of pale peach gloss that made them look ripe and
tempting. Desire that had no business being part of their relationship now
slammed into him. It was a shock to realize the attraction hadn't died despite
all the effort he'd put into killing all the good memories between them.
He dragged his gaze away from her face, noted the way her flowing pants and
shirt molded themselves to her trim body courtesy of the wind. He was about to
check to see if she still wore that kick-ass red polish on her toes when she
glanced up and caught him staring.
Her tentative smile started, then faded. "Hello, Mick."
He nodded, almost tongue-tied, which was the most ridiculous, unexpected thing
that had ever happened to him. He'd won her heart by talking his fool head off.
There was a flash of hurt in her eyes at his silence, but her gaze held steady.
"You knew I'd be here?"
Again, he nodded. "I'm…I'm glad you came."
She lifted a disbelieving brow at that. "Really? You didn't sound
overjoyed when I called you to discuss it."
He shrugged. "I've been persuaded it's past time for you to be with your
family on a special occasion."
She laughed then, the light, merry sound washing over him, cheering him as did
Gram's glass windchime when it stirred in the breeze.
"Obviously Abby's been busy talking both of us into something that may or
may not be for the best," she said. "Jess has already made her
position clear. She'd like me to leave."
Rather than relief, unexpected alarm flared. "But you're not going, are
you? She needs you here, Meggie."
At the use of his old nickname for her, her expression faltered. "It's
been a long time since you've called me that."
"I know. It seemed wrong, as if it belonged with happier times."
Uneasy with veering off onto personal terrain, he asked, "What did you
think of the inn?"
"It's absolutely stunning," she said with enthusiasm. "Jess has
excellent taste."
"Expensive, too," Mick said wryly, thinking of the range he'd had
delivered that morning as an inn-warming present. Somehow Abby had kept Jess
away from the kitchen during the delivery and that new chef of hers had
promised to bar her from the premises until all the food had been prepared for
tonight and the party was under way. At some point in the evening he planned to
duck into the kitchen and show it to her.
"Nice to see she inherited one of my traits," Megan joked.
"Though there are others that might have been more useful."
Mick shoved his hands into his pockets. "You look good, Meggie. Not a day
older than when you left."
She laughed at that. "And you're still full of blarney, Mick
O'Brien."
He stood there, uncertain what to do or say next. Fortunately, Megan hadn't
lost her ability to navigate uncharted emotional waters or her knack for ending
an awkward moment.
"I should get back," she told him. "I'm glad we ran into each
other here, Mick. It'll make tonight easier."
She touched his hand, a caress so light and fleeting, it was almost as if he'd
imagined it. And then she was gone, striding along the hard-packed sand and
away from him. Again.
*
* *
Trace decided not to wait for his meeting in the morning
with his attorney before settling things with Wes. Instead, he took a cab
straight to Wes's apartment, which was only blocks from where Abby lived with
the girls. Trace wasn't crazy about the proximity, but it made sense for them
to be close by for the sake of the twins.
He was wondering how he was going to make it past the somber doorman when opportunity
presented itself in the form of two couples heading inside for a party. He made
himself part of the group the second they'd been waved in and headed with them
to the elevator, glad that he'd found the apartment number before leaving
Maryland.
Upstairs, he rang the bell, then waited for Wes to appear. Instead, it was
Gabrielle who answered the door. She was as beautiful as she'd appeared in the
society-page pictures he'd seen, even without makeup and with her hair yanked
back in a ponytail that made her look younger than thirty-two, the age given in
the article accompanying one of the photos.
"Who are you and how did you get up here?" she demanded heatedly.
"If you're another reporter, I have no comment."
She was about to slam the door in his face when Wes wandered into the living
room.
"I'm here to see your fiancé," Trace told her, pushing his way into
the room.
Wes regarded him with alarm. "Call security, Gabrielle."
Trace leveled a look at her. "That won't be necessary."
She stood where she was, her expression uneasy. "Wes, what's this
about?"
Wes shot a defiant look toward Trace. "I imagine he's here about the
restraining order I got against him."
Gabrielle's eyes widened at that. "A restraining order? Why?"
"I don't want him anywhere near Carrie and Caitlyn," Wes said.
His girlfriend blinked at that. "You think he's a danger to the
twins?"
Trace answered for him. "No, he thinks I'm a danger to him. What he really
wants is to remove me from Abby's life, isn't that right, Wes? You figure if
you can make it impossible for me to be anywhere near the girls, Abby will cut
me out of her life, too."
"No, it's just about the twins," he insisted. "You pose a threat
to them."
"You're going to have to explain that one to me," Trace said.
"I don't have to explain anything to you," Wes said belligerently.
"I made my case to a judge and he agreed."
"You made your
so-called
case to a man who's just made thousands of
dollars on a deal you recommended, thanks to a bit of inside information passed
along by Gabrielle. Isn't that what really happened?" Trace asked.
Wes looked stunned that he'd put those pieces together.
Trace regarded him with amusement. "I told you I had contacts in the city.
Our mutual friend Steve was happy to make a few calls for me." Trace
turned to Gabrielle. "Aren't you in enough of a mess without adding
insider trading to the mix?"
She sat down hard on the edge of a dining room chair, looking shaken.
"Wes? Is he telling the truth? You used information I mentioned to
you?"
Wes nodded. "I had to. I needed this favor. It was the only way to be sure
that Abby would bring the girls back to New York."
"I think maybe you can forget about that," Trace said. "She's
not very happy with you at the moment. As for me, I expect you to clear this
matter up first thing in the morning or I'll slap you with a defamation of
character suit that'll make every paper in the city."
Wes tried to stare him down, but Trace didn't so much as blink. Finally the
other man sighed. "I just want to keep on seeing my girls."
"You will," Trace promised. "As long as you never pull something
this stupid again. Abby would never keep your daughters from you. She knows
they adore you. How many times does she have to tell you that before you
believe her?"
"But you—"
"I know you're their father, Wes," he said solemnly. "I swear to
you that I will always respect that unless you give me cause to think you're
the one who's a bad influence on them. Please don't ever give me the ammunition
to believe that."
"You say that now, but I know you'll try to make them hate me," Wes
said, still not convinced by Trace's pledge.
Trace tried again. "I won't say a negative word about you to Caitlyn or
Carrie. Neither will Abby. You may not know me, but surely you know her well
enough to know she would never do that. She'd never let me do it, either. Your
daughters are amazing and if things work out with Abby and me, I'll be as good
to them as if they were my own, but I won't ever try to keep you out of their
lives."
Wes's relief was obvious. "I just had to be sure, you know. They're the
most important people in my life, next to Gabrielle. I don't know what I'd do
if I lost them."
"You're not going to lose them," Trace said again. "At least not
because of me."
Wes hesitated, his gaze locked with Trace's. Eventually he reached for the
phone. "I'll call my attorney now. He'll have that order lifted by
morning."
"Thank you," Trace said. "And we understand each other?"
Abby's ex-husband nodded.
"Okay, then," Trace said, satisfied. "I'd better get going.
There's a party at the inn tonight and I'd like to get there before it's
over." Despite his earlier anger, Trace felt some sympathy for Wes and his
fears about losing his girls. "Just so you know, I'm pretty sure Abby
plans to bring Caitlyn and Carrie up to spend some time with you next
week."
Gabrielle's eyes lit up as much as Wes's did. "Oh, I can't wait," she
said eagerly, slipping her hand into her fiancé's. At a warning glance from
Wes, her expression faltered. "I know Abby despises me, but maybe if she
knew how much I love the girls, she'd change her mind."
"Maybe so," Trace said. He'd heard the sincerity in her voice and
knew without a doubt that whatever else he thought of Wes or, for that matter,
Gabrielle, they truly did love the twins. He'd have to remember that the next
time he wanted to throttle the man.
*
* *
Jess was in her element, Abby thought as she watched her
sister weaving through the throng of people who'd come for the party. She gave
every single guest—except for Megan—enough of her attention to make them feel
special, then moved on to someone else. She even spent a few minutes with the
twins telling them how beautiful they looked in their new party dresses.
Everywhere she turned, Abby heard compliments about the inn's fresh decor. Even
the mayor, accompanied by Mrs. Finch wearing an enamel broach of a spray of her
beloved lilacs, paused to tell her how delighted he was to have the town's most
luxurious tourist hotel open for business again.
"The inn may be small, but it always stood for quality," Bobby Clark
told Abby. "I suspect Jess will be doing a booming business in no
time."
Mrs. Finch's eyes turned misty, her expression nostalgic. "It reminds me
of the way it looked when Mick first built it and my David and I used to come
here for Sunday dinner every week."
"I'll bring you this Sunday," the mayor promised. "We'll give
the new menu a test run. Something tells me it will surpass the old one, if
tonight's appetizers are any indication."
Lawrence Riley approached just in time to hear the comments from Mrs. Finch and
the mayor. He beamed at Abby. "Now that's the kind of thing I like to
hear," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek even as he shook the
mayor's hand. "I have to admit, Abby, you and Jess surprised me."
"All I did was pay the bills," Abby insisted. "Everything else
is Jess's doing. She had a vision for what she wanted the inn to be and I think
she's accomplished it."
"Darn straight she has," Mick said with pride, circling an arm around
Abby's waist. "Can I steal this beautiful woman for just one minute?"
He led Abby to a secluded corner.
"What's up, Dad?" Abby asked, noticing his worried expression.
"It's your mother. Have you seen her standing over there all by herself?
You brought her here, Abby. You have to do something."
Abby stared at him incredulously. "Me? You're an adult. You're more than
capable of carrying on a conversation with her. Has it occurred to you that
everyone else may be waiting for some signal from you about whether she's to be
welcomed or shunned?"
Mick was too much of a Southern gentleman to ignore Abby's claim. "You
think so?"
"Dad, everyone in Chesapeake Shores knows she walked out on all of us.
Their loyalty is to you. She certainly understood that. When she came to visit
us, she barely left the house. Most of the time she was here and gone before
anyone in town knew about it."
Mick looked startled by that.
"Come on, Dad, take her around a bit. She has old friends here who I'm
sure are just dying to catch up with her. In the meantime, I'll round up Bree
and Connor and make sure they spend some time with her, even if neither one of
them is wildly enthusiastic about it."
"I notice you didn't mention Jess."
"She's going to be an even harder sell than I anticipated. I'm not going
to push it tonight. It could spoil this whole evening for her. It's enough that
she hasn't tossed Mom out on her backside, which I know she wants to do."
He hesitated. "I think I know a way to help with that," he said.
"How?"
"Just leave it to me." He took off across the room, his expression
grim. When he reached Megan's side, he bent down and whispered something in her
ear. Abby saw her mother shake her head, but Mick was adamant about whatever he
was saying. Then the two of them headed for Jess, her mother with obvious
reluctance.
"Oh, no," Abby whispered. This wouldn't be good. She hurried through
the crowd to try to stop them, but she was stopped by too many people en route.
By the time she reached the other side of the room, Mick had a firm grip on
Jess's hand and was dragging her toward the kitchen. That's when Abby got an
inkling about what he was up to and relaxed.
She arrived just in time to hear Jess protest that she didn't have time to
spare right now.
"You'll be glad you made time for this," Mick told her, not loosening
his grip. He opened the kitchen door and held it until Jess finally stepped
through.
Even from where she was waiting, Abby could see her shocked expression as she
saw the Viking range she'd wanted so desperately. She looked up at Mick, her
mouth agape. "You bought this?"
"Your mother and I did," he said. "We both wanted you to know
how proud we are of you."
Megan looked uncomfortable, but she went along gamely. "It was your
father's idea."
"But your mother was on board the second I told her about it," he
insisted.
Abby smiled at his determination to include Megan in his generous gesture, his
magnanimous attempt to help mend fences between her and their daughter. She
also had a feeling that Megan would write him a check for her share before the
night was over. She'd long since stopped taking any kind of alimony from Mick,
and she wouldn't accept this expensive gesture, either.
"But how did you know how much I wanted this?" Jess asked. Her gaze
shifted and she spotted Abby. "You told them, I suppose."
Abby shrugged. "I might have mentioned how disappointed you were when it
had to go back."
Jess laughed. "Disappointed? I was an absolute shrew to you." She
crossed the room and hugged her, then went back to face their parents.
"Thank you so much, Dad." She swallowed hard, then added, "You,
too, Mom."
Abby saw Megan blink back tears, saw Mick give her waist a squeeze, and knew
that everything she'd hoped might happen tonight would come about eventually.
It might take time. It might not be easy, but her family would be whole again.