Driftwood Cottage (22 page)

“After lunch,” Connor said firmly.

His son’s expression turned mutinous. “Now!”

The woman sitting in the booth gave him a sympathetic look. “At that age, later is not a concept they’re fond of. If it helps, you should know that these always sell out early. Maybe if you bought one now and gave him just a bite, it wouldn’t spoil his lunch.”

“That would certainly be better than sticking to my guns and then coming back to find they’re all gone,” Connor agreed. He paid the woman, broke off a small piece of the cookie for Mick, then put the rest in a bag. “Thanks.”

“I saw you setting up over there. You’re with Mr. O’Brien, aren’t you?”

“Actually, I’m his nephew, Connor O’Brien.”

“Nice to meet you, Connor. I’m Maggie Carter. Please tell your uncle for me that I think the work he’s doing is
wonderful. I’ve been a member of the foundation since it was started. I’m sure he’ll attract a lot of new members today. I’ll certainly send everyone who stops by here over your way.”

“Thank you,” Connor said. “I’ll be sure to tell him that. I know he’ll appreciate the support.”

Little Mick looked up at him. “More cookie?” he asked hopefully.

“Not yet,” Connor told him, then smiled at the woman. “I’d better get him a hot dog. Stop by the booth later and meet my uncle, if you have the time.”

“I certainly will.”

Connor took little Mick’s hand and had started toward the hot dog vendor, when his son broke free with an excited shout.

“Mama!” he said, toddling off toward the foundation’s booth.

Startled, Connor stared after him. Sure enough, Heather was hobbling unsteadily across the uneven ground, Connie’s hand tucked under her elbow. Connor scooped Mick into his arms and raced toward them, hoping to avert disaster. He thrust Mick into Connie’s arms, then put an arm securely around Heather’s waist.

“Are you deliberately trying to break your neck?” he asked, trying to fight down the fear he’d felt when he’d seen her awkward progress. The ground simply wasn’t made for crutches. “There are all sorts of holes and dips on this green. You could have fallen.”

Her gaze clashed with his. “But I didn’t, did I? I was very careful.”

“Still, it was an accident waiting to happen. What are you doing here, anyway?”

Connie whirled around, a look of alarm on her face that made no sense to him. “I just wanted some company,” she blurted. “And Heather felt like getting out.”

He got the distinct impression there was a lot more to it, but he let it pass. “Well, I’ve got everything set up,” he assured Connie. “I didn’t put the books on display. I thought you’d want to do that, but the boxes are all there. I was just going to buy a hot dog for little Mick. Are you two hungry?”

“Not me,” Connie said, looking calmer now. “I’ll wait till later.”

He turned to Heather. “How about you? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine. I would like some water, though.”

Connor nodded, then turned to his son. “Hey, kiddo, you want to come with me?”

Mick shook his head. “Stay with Mama.”

“You sure you can manage him?” he asked Heather.

She nodded. “We’ll be fine.”

He handed her the bag.

She gave him a questioning look. “What’s this?”

“A bribe,” he said, then mouthed c-o-o-k-i-e.

“Ah, I see. Then I
know
we’ll be fine.”

“The rule is after lunch,” he warned.

“That’s your rule. Moms make rules of their own.”

Connor shook his head. “Sure, undercut my paltry attempt at discipline.”

She merely laughed.

When Connor returned, his son was settled in Heather’s lap as she read him one of the children’s books about sea life that Connie had included in the selection available for today’s attendees. He’d discovered that Thomas believed
it was sometimes the most basic ecological awareness of kids that actually caught the parents’ attention.

As the story ended, he caught sight of his uncle striding across the green. In his khakis and a blue polo shirt and with the tan of a man who worked on the water, he looked younger than his years. Connor noticed that several women turned to watch his progress, but it was the look on Connie’s face that really caught his eye. She was clearly smitten. He glanced toward Heather and saw a smile form on her lips. So, she’d seen it, too. He could hardly wait to compare notes with her.

Thomas beamed when he saw them, though his gaze seemed immediately drawn to Connie. “I see you’ve brought a crowd of helpers with you today.” He patted Connor on the back and leaned down to kiss Heather’s cheek and ruffle Mick’s hair. “How’s the healing process going, Heather?”

“Very slowly,” she said with obvious frustration. “Though the doctor says I’m right on schedule.”

“Has Connor told you how impossible he was when he broke his arm playing baseball in college?”

Heather rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I know. I was there.”

Thomas looked startled for an instant, then shook his head. “Of course you were. I keep forgetting what a long way back the two of you go. Well, I hope he’s treating you well.”

Heather squirmed slightly. “Sure,” she murmured.

“I’d be doing a lot more for her, if she’d let me,” Connor said pointedly. “She’s stubbornly independent.”

Thomas laughed. “Well now, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” He glanced out over the crowd gathered
on the green, his expression pleased. “I should get up there and do my thing.” His gaze fell on Connie. “Have I thanked you again for organizing these events? You and Shanna are amazing.”

Connie blushed. “I’m glad to help.”

When Thomas trotted off to begin his speech, her gaze followed him. Connor saw Heather take note of that and smile once again.

So, he thought, it was official. There was something developing between his uncle and Connie, just as he’d suspected earlier in the summer. He wondered how long it would take one of them to act on it, or if they’d go on pretending it didn’t exist.

In the meantime, though, he was grateful for the opportunity they’d presented to him. Under the guise of promoting the budding romance, he’d have the perfect excuse to get Heather to himself later this afternoon.

Heather had been fully aware of the secretive glances being exchanged by Connie and Thomas when he’d first arrived for the event. They were acting like a couple of bashful teenagers, which she found utterly charming. She was pretty sure Connor had noticed as well.

When Connie took a quick bathroom break, she glanced over at Connor. “You saw it, too, didn’t you?”

“What?”

“The way those two were looking at each other— Thomas and Connie?”

He grinned. “Oh, yeah. Even Kevin thinks there’s something going on, and both of them have admitted to me how they feel. I’m just not sure they’re willing to admit it to each other.” His gaze narrowed. “Is that why
you’re here? Did Connie drag you down here to assess the situation?”

Heather nodded. “Something like that. She claimed she wanted me here to keep her from doing something crazy, but I really think she wanted me to observe Thomas’s behavior around her and see if she was nuts for thinking there was some kind of attraction going on.”

“And?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said fervently. “The man definitely has the hots for her.”

“And vice versa,” Connor said. “So, here’s what I’m proposing. When this thing ends, let’s encourage the two of them to stick around and grab lunch or something. Then you and I can bail, and you can ride home with little Mick and me.”

“Count me in,” she said at once, proving that she was more concerned with her friend’s happiness than steering clear of him. In fact, she grinned at him. “Nice to see you have the O’Brien matchmaking gene, despite your oft-stated claim that you despise all that well-meaning interference.”

“It’s my uncle and Connie. It’s a worthy cause,” he said.

She gave him a sly look. “You do know that Connie had another motive in having me tag along today, don’t you?”

“Me?” he guessed at once.

“Of course, and we’ve just agreed to play very nicely into her hands.”

He laughed. “Does that bother you?”

She met his gaze, then sighed. “Not half as much as it probably should.”

I
t was nearly two o’clock by the time they’d packed up after Thomas’s speech. Connor turned to Heather.

“You ready?”

“Sure,” she said at once, then told Connie. “I’m going to ride back to Chesapeake Shores with Connor and little Mick. You don’t mind, do you?”

Connie looked immediately flustered by the news, so Connor stepped in. “Uncle Thomas, I know Connie never had lunch. Why don’t the two of you grab a bite? It’s the least you can do to pay her back for all the hours she’s put in to help you out.”

“He doesn’t have to take me to lunch,” Connie protested, her embarrassment evident in the blush that tinged her cheeks.

“But I’d enjoy it,” Thomas said, though he avoided her gaze and cast a suspicious look toward his nephew.

Connor barely resisted the desire to say, “I thought you might.”

Though she still looked flustered, Connie accepted the invitation. “I am starving,” she admitted. “It’s been a busy day, and I skipped breakfast, too.”

“Then you definitely have to eat,” Thomas said. He turned to Connor and Heather. “Thanks for the help today. I’ll catch up with you later.” The glint in his eye suggested that when he did, Connor was in for a stern talking-to.

Connor stood next to Heather and watched them go. “Worked like a charm, if I do say so myself,” he said with satisfaction.

Heather didn’t seem quite as impressed with the success of their plot. “It’s lunch, Connor. Given how cautious those two are, it could take months before either of them admits to their feelings, much less acts on them.”

He turned his gaze on her. “What about you? Are you ready to admit your feelings?”

She frowned at the question. “I’ve never denied my feelings.”

Connor grinned. “Then how about acting on them?” he inquired hopefully.

Rather than responding, Heather glanced pointedly at little Mick. Though he looked to be asleep on a chair, there was no telling when he might awaken and overhear.

“Later,” Connor said, acknowledging her concern.

Once they were in his car heading home, he glanced her way. “How about stopping for a late lunch of our own? There’s a great place on the water in the next town.”

“But I’m all hot and sweaty,” she protested.

“It has an outdoor deck. Most people come straight off their boats. It’s not fancy. And the crabcakes are excellent. Don’t tell Dillon Brady I said so, but I think they’re even better than his.”

She nodded, though with obvious reluctance. “Okay, then.”

Connor wondered when he’d become so easily satisfied
by such small victories. Still, he couldn’t deny being pleased that they’d have another hour or two together. He kept hoping they could recapture their once easygoing relationship, the days when they talked for hours about everything going on in their lives.

Now he felt awkward half the time, as if he hardly knew her, much less had shared a home and a child with her. But he was sure if they got back on their old footing, it would only be a matter of time before she’d accept that his proposal was sincere.

At the bayside restaurant, he carried his still-sleeping son onto the deck and settled him in his lap. Mick stirred slightly, then woke. Seeing all the food around them, his eyes widened. “Fries,” he pleaded.

“Just like me,” Connor said with a laugh. “He’s going to grow up to be a fast-food junkie.”

“Not on my watch,” Heather retorted.

“Who are you kidding?” Connor teased. “You’re as addicted to fries as I am.”

She laughed. “Okay, maybe just a little. But all the rest of it, no way.”

When they’d placed their order, she sat back and looked around at the lively crowd, the serene tree-shaded setting, the boats lined up along the dock, and smiled. “This is nice. Thanks for suggesting it.”

“I thought you’d like it. They sometimes have great music on Saturday night. We’ll have to come.” He kept his tone casual.

Though she looked vaguely disconcerted, she nodded. “Sure. One of these days.”

He caught her gaze and held it. “Heather, do we need to start from scratch? Would that make a difference?”

“What do you mean?”

“Go on dates?”

She smiled at the suggestion. “I think we’re a long way past the dating stage,” she said, glancing toward little Mick.

Connor wasn’t going to be put off so easily. “But maybe if we went back, started again from where I am now, you’d be able to accept that I really do want to marry you.”

“Do you think my memory is that faulty?” she asked. “Am I supposed to forget how vehemently you’ve opposed marriage since the day we met?”

Connor regarded her with frustration. “Why can’t you see that I’ve changed? You wear rose-colored glasses when it comes to the whole world, but you’re still viewing me through that same old dark lens.”

“No, I’m viewing you realistically,” she argued. “Nobody changes a core belief overnight, Connor. Core beliefs run too deep. They go into the very soul of who you are.”

“And that’s that? There’s no way to move forward?” he asked, exasperated by her refusal to give an inch. “I’ve quit my job handling divorces. I’ve moved down here to be closer to you and our son. I’ve bought the house you love for the three of us. What else is it going to take?”

Again, probably because she had no rational answer, she looked to their son. “This is not the time to discuss this,” she said quietly.

“Will there be a time?”

He could read the sorrow in her eyes, see the confusion as she shrugged.

“I don’t know, Connor. I just don’t know.”

What Connor couldn’t figure out was how on earth he was supposed to fight for their future when she didn’t seem to want to try.

After their awkward conversation on Saturday, Connor had never felt so defeated in his entire life. He’d seen the future he wanted, reached out to claim it despite all of his long-held misgivings about marriage, and lost yet again. When he wasn’t drifting in a sea of despair, he had to curse the bitter irony. Maybe he should give up and accept Heather’s decision, but when he floated that thought past his father, Mick was appalled.

“She said no a couple of times, after all the times you said no to her, and you’re walking away?” his father asked, regarding him with disgust. “What kind of O’Brien takes no for an answer when it’s something that matters?”

“I’m pretty sure she thinks it’s like one of those jailhouse conversions, convenient under the circumstances.”

“Is it?” Mick asked. “Did you only ask her to marry you because of the accident?”

“In a way, yes, because that’s when I realized I didn’t want to lose her forever,” he said honestly. “In that moment, I couldn’t envision my life without her. Once I saw that, it was like the knowledge had been there all along, buried under all that baggage from the past.”

“Then keep telling her that until she believes you.”

“I don’t think she’ll ever buy it,” Connor told him. “It’s ironic really. I did too good a job of selling her on the fact that I don’t believe in marriage.”

“If you sold her on that, then you can sell her on this,” Mick insisted. “It might take a little longer than you’d like and it might require a little creativity, but I’ve seen you
in action in a courtroom. You can win over anyone once you set your mind to it.”

Connor still wasn’t convinced. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, Dad, but I just don’t know. Maybe I have to accept that it could be too late.” Despite the words, though, admitting defeat grated.

“It’s only too late if you let it be,” Mick said impatiently. “Now stop sitting around here feeling sorry for yourself and go after the woman you love.” His expression brightened. “I could kick you out of here, if that would help. You could tell her you need a place to stay.”

Connor laughed, in spite of his sour mood. “Jess owns an inn. I’m pretty sure Heather would suggest I go there if I’m suddenly homeless.”

“Well, I’ll speak to your mother. I’m sure between the two of us, we’ll be able to come up with a plan.”

“Thanks for the thought, but I think I’d better handle this on my own. Sometimes the meddling O’Briens can be a bit much.”

“As long as you do,” Mick said direly. “Losing that woman and your son is not an option.”

Yeah, no matter what he’d claimed just now, Connor had pretty much figured out that much. Obviously what he really needed was a new strategy…and not one invented by his parents.

Heather had an appointment with her orthopedic surgeon, and then, if all went well and her cast was finally removed—or at least cut down to her knee—a physical therapy session to start reconditioning her injured leg. Megan had offered to take her, so she was surprised to find Connor at her door.

“Your chauffeur awaits,” he said cheerfully. “Mom’s tied up.”

She regarded him doubtfully. “Is that so? And you just happened to have the afternoon free?”

“Quite a lucky break, wasn’t it?”

“Sure, lucky.”

Accepting that spending the afternoon with Connor was inevitable, she allowed him to help her down the steps. It was still an awkward process, despite her improved agility with crutches. Once in the car, though, she fell silent.

Her mood deteriorated rapidly at the doctor’s office. She’d been counting on the doctor removing her cast, so when he told her, in an abundance of caution, that he wanted it to remain for another two weeks, she left the appointment bitterly disappointed.

“I had to cancel the therapy session,” she told Connor as they drove away. “You can just take me home.”

“Not so fast,” he protested. “You obviously need cheering up. How about a hot-fudge sundae?”

“It’s going to take more than a hot-fudge sundae to cheer me up, but thanks for trying.”

“Oh, the sundae’s just for starters. I have more in mind,” he said at once.

He stopped in front of the ice cream parlor, brought two large sundaes back to the car, then drove along the beachfront to Driftwood Cottage. “I thought you’d like to see how much progress Dad’s made,” he said as he parked across the street.

Heather turned to look. The exterior already looked exactly as she’d envisioned it, with bright white siding, red shutters and a sturdy new porch with a white railing
and Victorian-style trim. Rockers and Adirondack chairs were already in place, as was an old-fashioned, elaborately trimmed screen door, just as beach cottages had probably had years ago.

Connor met her gaze. “Want to have your ice cream over there?”

Tears in her eyes, she immediately nodded. “Oh, Connor, it’s perfect, exactly the way I imagined it would be. Can’t you just see it with big pots of red geraniums out there?”

“Dad’s definitely got the knack for capturing dreams and turning them into reality,” he said, plucking her easily out of the car, prepared to carry her across the street. When she opened her mouth to protest, he commanded, “Don’t argue. The ice cream will melt if I wait for you to make your way over there on your crutches.”

“Good point,” she said, smiling as he strode across the two-lane road, opened the gate and settled her into a comfortable rocker with her leg propped up on another chair.

He was back in seconds with their sundaes.

Heather dug into the rapidly melting ice cream, but she was far more captivated by the view from the porch. The bay sparkled in the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the weeping willows along the bank. She spotted a waterman checking the last of his crab pots on his way back into port.

“This is heaven,” she said with a sigh. “Connor, you’re going to love it here. So is little Mick when he’s with you.”

He opened his mouth, but she held up a hand. “Don’t argue. Not just now. I really want to enjoy this moment.
It’s so peaceful and calm. I love the hustle and bustle of being right downtown over the store, but this is just amazing.”

“You wouldn’t have thought that a couple of hours ago when Dad’s crew was at work. This was a beehive of activity. He’s anxious to get it finished.”

“How’s the inside coming?”

“The floors are solid again, and the new drywall is mostly up.” He met her gaze. “You want to take a look? It’s still pretty rough, but you’ll get the idea of what’s happening.”

“I’d love to see,” she said eagerly. “I’ll have to take my time, though.”

“Forget trying to maneuver around on your crutches,” he said. “There are too many obstacles. Dad would have a fit if I let you try to walk around in there, especially without a hardhat. I’ll carry you.”

“Come on, Connor. There’s no need for that.”

“It’s my way or no way,” he said, his jaw set stubbornly.

Since she could see the sense of doing it his way, she agreed, even though being held close to his chest reminded her all too clearly of desires she thought she’d put behind her.

He carried her from room to room, pausing to set her on a chair in the kitchen so she could look around to her heart’s content. “It’s going to be fabulous, isn’t it?” she asked, delighted to see her dream becoming reality. “With all these windows, there will be so much light. I can already see the breakfast nook right over there and the sink with the view of the backyard.”

For all of her happiness over seeing how well Mick
had translated her random ideas into a real home, she couldn’t help being saddened by the realization that she would never live here.

“Upstairs?” Connor asked, studying her closely.

She imagined seeing the master bedroom that should have been theirs and shook her head. “Not today. I should probably get home.”

He looked vaguely disappointed, but nodded at once. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

She lifted her gaze to his. “Thanks for bringing me, though. Tell Mick I think it’s going to be amazing.”

“He’ll be pleased you’re happy,” Connor said.

Heather bit back a sigh. Happy was a far cry from what she was feeling right at this moment. It was just a house, after all. What mattered was that she was alive after a terrible accident, that she had her son and had reconnected with her mother. She had her whole future ahead of her. There would be another house, maybe even another man, though the one she truly wanted was right in front of her.

Her gaze was drawn to Connor, who was looking at her with so much love written all over his face. She could have him, could have it all, but still she held back.