Flowers on Main (14 page)

“And the reconciliation?”

She lifted her gaze to his. “That remains to be seen,” she said softly, liking the way his eyes lit up at her words, the way his fingers closed around hers.

“At least you’re keeping an open mind,” he murmured, seemingly satisfied. “That’s probably more than I deserve.”

Because she couldn’t resist, she said, “It is, but it seems I have a soft spot for a man with a quick wit and the gift of blarney.”

“Then fair warning,” he said. “I intend to use both to win you back.”

Megan tore her gaze away. It troubled her knowing just how easily he might be able to do that. Hadn’t she learned one single lesson from being married to this man for all those years? His love was a magnificent thing, but that only made the neglect and disappointments that much harder to bear.

Flustered, she stood up. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

“Your bag’s inside the door,” he told her. “Bree dropped it by while you were upstairs with the girls.”

“I told you I was waiting for it to get here,” she said, scowling at him. “Yet you didn’t think to mention that before.”

“I wasn’t ready to let you go,” he said simply. “Good night, Meggie. Sleep well.”

As she went inside, letting the screen door slap shut behind
her, something told her she was unlikely to sleep a wink. Images of a stubborn, contrary Irishman were likely to fill her head. She really did need to hurry back to New York before he also managed to steal her heart.

B
ree felt as if she’d fallen down a rabbit hole and wound up at the Chesapeake Shores—or maybe in the O’Brien version of the—Madhatter’s Tea Party. Everything felt a bit topsy-turvy in her world.

When she’d arrived at her shop first thing this morning, she’d found her father already at work, though judging from his mood, he wasn’t happy about being here…or maybe he wasn’t happy in general.

Before she could grapple with getting to the bottom of his mood, her mother had walked in. Her father had immediately scurried off, muttering something about needing more wood, which was odd, since there was a whole pile of lumber in the back of his truck. Her mother had stared after him, her expression stunned. She’d toured the shop, murmured a few vague words of approval, then claimed she had places to be. She hadn’t bothered to come up with specifics on her way out.

Bree stood in the doorway, staring after her, then frowned when her father almost instantly reappeared.

“Okay, Dad, what happened between you and Mom last night?” she demanded, following him inside. “And where’s the wood you ran out of here to get?”

Mick flushed brick red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, turning on the circular saw so she couldn’t be heard over the noise.

Regarding him with a defiant look, Bree switched the power tool right back off. “You can’t avoid me that easily. I asked you a question. In fact, I asked you two questions. I’d like answers to both.”

He scowled at her. “You’ll have to remind me.”

It took a great deal of restraint not to roll her eyes at his deliberate evasiveness. “Let’s start with the easy one. Where’s the wood you claimed you needed?”

“In the truck,” he said at once, clearly happy with himself for having a ready answer.

“That wood was already in the truck. You didn’t leave here to buy more and you didn’t bring any inside, which begs the question of why you came up with such a ridiculous excuse to avoid Mom.”

“What are you this morning, the lumber police?” he grumbled.

She grinned despite herself. “Actually I think I’m doing okay at this investigating stuff. Now I’m asking again, for the third time in case you’ve lost count, what happened between you and Mom? Something must have for you to go flying out of here the second she arrived.”

“Did you ask her why she was avoiding me?”

Bree stared at him blankly. “Avoiding you? She came here knowing you’d be here.”

“But she barely even glanced my way.”

“Because you took off before she could even say hello,” Bree retorted impatiently. “Tell me what’s going on. Did the two of you have a fight?”

“No fight,” he said tersely, starting to reach for the switch to start the saw.

Bree put her hand over the switch. “Talk.”

He shook his head as if he couldn’t quite figure her out. “You know I’d expect this kind of inquisition from Abby. She’s always had this idea that Megan and I would eventually get back together, but you never seemed to care one way or another. Why are you suddenly so interested in the dynamics of my relationship with your mother?”

“Because you’re both acting weird. I’d discuss it with her, but she bolted, so I’m left with you.” She tapped her foot impatiently. “I’m still waiting for that answer.”

Mick looked as if he wanted to argue or maybe take off for the second time that morning, but she fixed him with an unrelenting gaze. He finally shrugged. “I made a damn fool of myself, if you must know.”

Now,
that
was a shock. Bree stared at him in bewilderment. “How?”

“I told her I wanted her back, and she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”

Bree tried to wrap her head around all the information in that sentence. “You proposed?”

“No, I didn’t propose,” he snapped as if that wasn’t even a remotely logical conclusion. “I just made my intentions clear.”

“And Mom did what?”

“She went to bed.”

“Alone, I assume,” Bree said.

Mick scowled at her. “Of course alone, not that it would be any of your business if it had been otherwise.”

“Now let me get this straight,” she said slowly, trying to unravel the whole convoluted mess. “Mom didn’t swoon into your arms the second you uttered what wasn’t a proposal but some kind of declaration, so now you’re mad at her?”

“I’m not mad. I just feel like a fool. I got ahead of myself, something I’d sworn I wasn’t going to do.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m too damn old to do this. I don’t know the rules anymore.”

Bree couldn’t help it. She laughed, which earned such a scowl that she promptly sobered. “I don’t think there are rules, Dad. If there were, more of us would get it right just by following them.”

He must have heard something in her voice she hadn’t even been aware of, because he immediately looked contrite. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be going on and on about this with you. You have your own relationship issues to work through.”

“No issues,” she assured him. “The thing with Marty is over, kaput, ended, no longer important.”

Mick looked skeptical. “Really? Then why was he calling you this morning?”

Bree was as puzzled by that as her father was. “He called here?”

“Actually he called your cell. You’d left it on the counter yesterday. I thought about letting it go to voice mail. In fact, I did just that the first five times he called. By the sixth time, I couldn’t take another second of listening to that ridiculous ringtone you have, so I answered it.”

“You didn’t yell at him, did you? There’s really no point in it at this stage.”

“It would have served him right if I had, but no. Any yelling that gets done will have to come from you. The message is there on the counter, along with however many he left on your voice mail. He wants you to call him back.” He held up his hand. “Let me correct that. He
expects
you to call him back.”

Bree picked up the slip of paper, balled it up and tossed it in the trash bin across the room. Mick grinned when she made the shot.

“Good place for it,” he commented happily.

“Now let’s get back to you and Mom,” she said.

“Let’s don’t. In fact, let’s make a pact. I’ll stay the hell out of your love life, if you’ll ignore mine.”

She hesitated, then shrugged. After all, she was hardly an expert. “I can do that. From what I can tell, you don’t have one anyway.”

“Neither do you,” he retorted, then chuckled. “Now, aren’t we a sorry pair, each of us gloating about the other one being all alone?”

Bree kissed his cheek. “I’m not gloating, Dad. I swear it.”

“Well, if Marty’s your only choice, then I
am
gloating,” he replied.

She wondered what he’d have to say if she told him that Marty wasn’t the one he needed to worry about. The man who had her all twisted up inside was the one she’d let slip away six years ago. Something told her if she confessed that to her father, he’d know all about the kind of regret she was feeling. Hadn’t he done the same thing with her mother—let her get away?

Jake was walking out of Sally’s with Will and Mack when Bree exited her shop a couple doors away. She started to turn in their direction, then made a swift U-turn and headed in the opposite direction without so much as a wave to acknowledge them.

Will and Mack stared after her, then turned slowly to Jake.

“I thought you said you were going to supply flowers for her business,” Mack said.

“I am,” Jake replied tersely, unable to keep himself from staring after her. She was wearing that turquoise sundress again, the one that showed off her shoulders. The skirt had swirled, then caught in the breeze when she’d turned, showing off more of her shapely legs than she’d probably intended.

“I assumed that meant you’d reached some kind of détente,” Will said, snapping his attention back from the sight of her departing back.

“We have,” Jake snapped.

“Didn’t look that way just now,” Will observed. “Or was it part of your agreement that you’d avoid each other in public? Are you trying to keep the grapevine in check, because I have to tell you that moments like that one will do the exact opposite.”

“Do you know how little I care about what people in this town have to say?” Jake asked. “In fact, if the two of you didn’t repeat everything like a couple of little old ladies, I’d never know a damn thing.”

Will blinked at the attack. “Did I happen to strike a nerve, pal?”

“I’d say yes,” Mack chimed in, clearly enjoying the exchange.

“Who asked you?” Jake grumbled. “I need to get to work. I have to finish Mrs. Finch’s landscape work today. Her lilac bushes are starting to overrun the property. And she’s going to stand over me and watch every branch I clip to make sure I don’t ruin them. That’s about as much of a hassle as I can take in one afternoon.”

“A convenient excuse,” Will murmured.

“Very convenient,” Mack added.

Jake replied with a suggestion that according to most reports was anatomically impossible. Walking away from the two of them, he climbed into his truck, pulled out into traffic and made a right turn from Main Street onto Shore Road. No sooner had he turned the corner than his cell phone rang.

“Mrs. Finch’s house is the other way,” Will informed him cheerfully. “Or were you hoping to catch up with Bree by going that way?”

Jake disconnected the call without responding. It didn’t help his mood that not two seconds later, he spotted Bree
sitting outside at one of the sidewalk cafés that had opened over the past couple of years. In addition to the dress that practically begged for a man’s attention, she’d added sunglasses that seemed to cover half her face and a wide-brimmed straw hat meant to keep her fair complexion from freckling. She looked mysterious and sexy. His pulse scrambled at the sight of her and his foot hit the brakes, causing the blare of several horns behind him.

Muttering a curse at his own stupidity, he wheeled into the first available parking space and walked back to the Panini Bistro, which specialized in grilled sandwiches and salads. Standing over her, he clutched the back of a chair with a white-knuckled grip and tried to figure out what to say to explain his presence. When nothing rational came to him, he settled for an attack.

“This has to stop!” he said, drawing her attention away from the book in which she seemed totally absorbed.

She regarded him with surprise. “Jake!”

“I mean it, Bree, this has to stop.”

She removed her sunglasses and returned his gaze evenly, though her expression was justifiably bewildered. “Am I supposed to know what you’re talking about?”

He wasn’t even sure
he
knew what he was talking about. He just knew that being blindsided by his intense reaction each time he caught a glimpse of her was beginning to get to him. Since he didn’t want to admit to that, he took a different tack.

“Just now, you deliberately walked away when you saw me with Will and Mack.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, clearly not comprehending. “I thought you wanted us to avoid each other.”

“I do. I did.” He shook his head. “It’s not working. It stirs
up questions, at least from those two, questions for which I have no answers.”

She studied him quizzically. “Such as?”

“How we can work together, if we can’t even pass each other on the street without it being awkward?”

“And you thought it was awkward back there, when I deliberately tried to stay out of your way?”

“Of course it was.”

“Jake, you’re going to have to make up your mind,” she said with exaggerated patience. “I’m willing to do anything and everything I can to keep from making your life difficult, but you have to tell me the rules.”

“There are no damn rules,” he muttered, feeling like even more of an idiot. “It’s a free world. You can come and go anyplace you want to.”

“Except where you are,” she guessed. “Can you fax over your schedule every morning? Or have Connie do it, though she might have several uncomfortable questions for you if you decide to go that route.”

He bristled at the suggestion. “Don’t be ridiculous. And don’t even think about involving my sister in our situation. This is between you and me, no one else.”

He wasn’t a hundred percent sure what possessed him then, but the next thing he knew, he’d hauled her up out of her chair, slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her. That kiss held every pent-up emotion, every bit of longing, every trace of anger he’d stored up for six long years.

After her first startled gasp, she slowly slid her arms around him and melted into his embrace, her mouth soft and sweet under his. The ease with which the attraction sparked into an inferno infuriated him. He pushed her away roughly, then turned on his heel.