Gwynneth Ever After (14 page)

“I didn’t think you’d mind. She was pretty upset. I suggested someone else could go, and she asked me.” He shook his head and sighed, looking bemused. “Is there a secret to refusing tear-filled blue eyes?”
 

A soft warmth unfurled deep inside Gwyn’s chest at the idea of Gareth comforting her daughter. The greater implications, however, made her go cold. Tomorrow was intended as a parent thing. No way should Gareth be going in her stead, and the fact that asking him had been Katie’s idea set off all kinds of alarm bells.

She’d been right to worry this afternoon. Her kids - all of them - were showing serious signs of attachment to this man.

Not good.

“I’m not sure you should do that,” she said.

Gareth said nothing for a moment. Then, “May I ask why?”

“You’ve been around here a lot the last few days, and the kids really like you.”

“And that’s a bad thing because...?”

“You’ll be leaving to go home soon.”

He frowned, his dark brows meeting over his nose. “You must have had other...friends who have moved away before.”

As careful as his words were, Gwyn heard the unspoken question underlying them. She balanced her cup on her knee with one hand. With the other, she plucked at the bits of fluff pilled on the blanket. She really, really didn’t want to get into this.

“I don’t believe in having a series of men parading in and out of my kids’ lives,” she said quietly.

Gareth rubbed a hand across his eyes, and then down his jaw. He stared across the room. “We’re not just talking about Katie’s class tomorrow, are we?” he asked, his voice gruff.

Gwyn twisted a handful of blanket. “No.”

“Because it’s best for the kids?”
 

She nodded, unable to meet his gaze.

“And what about for you?”

“I – I think it might be best for me, too.”

“And what about what’s happened between us? Do we just ignore that? Pretend it’s nothing?”

A little of her tea slopped over the cup and soaked through the blanket, setting her knee on fire. She peeked up at him. “I have three children to think about, Gareth.”

A tiny muscle worked in Gareth’s jaw line as he stared at his own tea. “I know you’re worried about your kids,” he said finally, “and I know that there are no guarantees that this will work out, but – ”

“Please don’t.”

Eyes darkened by frustration rose to meet hers. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t – ” Gwyn waved her hand vaguely. “This. All of this.”
And please don’t make me spell it out for you.

Gareth took a long time to reply, and when he did, his voice was rough. “I hadn’t counted on this happening any more than you had, Gwynneth with two n’s, but I’m not sure I want to just pretend it hasn’t.”

“We live five thousand miles apart.”

“In an age of technology,” he said dryly. “Telephones, airplanes?”

Gwyn lifted her chin in a show of determination that couldn’t have been further from the truth. She knew she was doing the right thing – but if he pushed the issue, she knew just as well that she would fold like a house of cards.

“Neither of us is that naïve,” she said. “It isn’t just the miles, it’s our entire lives. Everything about us is different. Too different.”

“You’ve given this a lot of thought, haven’t you?”

She looked away. Nodded. “Yes.”

“You know that whatever happened between you and me, I’d never just walk out on them.”

“Their own father walked out on them,” she reminded him. “I’m not saying you would – only that I’m not willing to risk it. I can’t do that to them again. Or to me. ”

A flash of something akin to pain flashed through Gareth’s eyes and twisted his mouth. Again she had the fleeting impression that he held something back from her, but she didn’t dwell on it. Didn’t dare. Instead, sensing victory, she pressed home her advantage, laying her hand atop his, steeling herself against the jolt that ran between them. Outside, the November wind tapped a bare maple branch against the window.

“I’m too old to believe in fairy tales, Gareth,” she said quietly. “And my kids are too young to have to stop believing in them.”

“What about Katie’s class tomorrow?”

“I’ll explain you can’t go.”

“You’d disappoint her like that?”

She glared at him. “That’s not fair.”

 
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He sighed. “What about letting me sit with Maggie and Nicholas while you go, then?
 
Do you think they’d stay with me?”

“I think it’s better if I find someone else.”

His mouth tightened into a grim line. “He really did a number on you, didn’t he?”

Her throat constricted. She didn’t need to ask who he meant and he didn’t need a response.

Pushing to his feet, Gareth set his mug on the tea tray. “I’ll leave you my phone number. If you can’t find anyone for tomorrow, call. I’ll look after the kids for you – as a friend, with no strings attached.”

Gwyn trailed into the kitchen behind him and watched as he scrawled a phone number on the dry-erase board stuck to the side of the fridge. Neither of them spoke. She because she couldn’t force words past the lump in her throat, and he for reasons she felt sure she didn’t want to know.

He returned the dry-erase marker to the drawer beside the fridge, underscoring the comfort level he’d attained in her home. Gwyn’s lips went tight. She’d definitely made the right decision about this.

Hadn’t she?

She rubbed her hand over her chest, surprised to find her heart still beating there. She’d been certain it had been swallowed up by the same hollow ache that made the simple act of breathing so painful. Gareth closed the drawer.

Following him down the hallway to the front entrance, she let her gaze rove the breadth of his shoulders, the lean length of his body. The ache in her center moved deeper. Doubt assailed her.

Dear God, what was she doing? She’d spent four years protecting herself and her kids from another Jack – and those same four years denying herself things she’d very nearly forgotten until now. Why couldn’t she – just this once – go with the flow? Live for the moment? Do what she so desperately wanted to do?

Other women had relationships with men, and their children survived – lord, she could even make sure her kids had no more involvement in any of this. It could be between just her and Gareth.

A harmless fling.

She bit back a groan.

Except that was the problem. No fling with him would ever be harmless. It couldn’t be, because harmless and Gareth didn’t go together. Devastating, yes. Earth-shattering, probably. Reality-altering, definitely. But never harmless.

Gareth took his leather coat from the closet. He turned to face her, his expression filled with purpose.

Gwyn swallowed – hard.

Take control. Take control now, before he –

She stuck out her hand into the space separating them, mortified to see it shake wildly, too terrified to remove it.

“Goodbye,” she said, her voice thick and unrecognizable even to her own ears. “And thank you again for everything. I enjoyed meeting you.”
 

Her insides cringed. Dear lord, could she have chosen less adequate words?

A wickedly lazy smile curved Gareth’s lips. “A handshake?” He raised his gaze to hers and shook his head. “I don’t think so, Gwynneth with two n’s.”

Gwyn backed away, coming up short against the wall by the living room doorway. He wouldn’t...he couldn’t...not now...

But Gareth’s pursuit was measured.

Unfaltering.

Relentless.

It brought him to within a scant few inches of her, where he stopped. He braced his left hand against the wall by her head, then lifted his right hand, still gripping his coat, and did the same on the other side. Before she could draw the breath she so desperately needed, his head descended.

His mouth fastened on hers with a jolt that traveled her entire length, at once both hard and gentle. Coaxing, demanding, promising...delivering. When Gwyn’s own lips parted under the mind-spinning assault, he wasted not an instant in taking full advantage. His tongue slid against hers, tangled with it, and took complete, uncontested ownership.

Not once did his hands move to caress her.

Not once did his body touch hers.

But he imprinted himself on her as indelibly as if he had possessed her in every way imaginable.

At last, his breathing unsteady, he drew back. One at a time, he dropped his hands to his sides and stepped away. He slid his arms into his jacket and shrugged it up onto his shoulders.

“I’ll go now,” he said, his voice thick, “but just for the record, I haven’t agreed.”

“A-agreed?” Gwyn whispered. Of its own accord, her trembling hand found its way to her mouth. Her fingertips brushed against lips that felt as if they belonged to someone else, because surely hers wouldn’t have responded with such abandon...

“Not to see you again.” Giving her a slow half-smile that focused her on his mouth all over again, Gareth pulled open her front door and disappeared into the night.

Chapter 19

Gwyn called a last thank you after her departing neighbor, closed the door, and turned to face her sullen daughter. Job day had not gone well.

She pressed fingertips against her throbbing left temple.
 

It would have been nice to thank Kirsten’s mom for babysitting so I could come to your class today.” She kept her voice even, wanting to find out what was behind Katie’s mood rather than start a fight.

With a shrug, Katie kicked the hiking boots off her feet and onto the closet floor.

Gwyn tried again. “The kids had lots of questions for me. I think they liked the models I brought in.”

Another shrug. Katie’s gloves followed her boots onto the floor. Teeth gritted, Gwyn reached past her, took the basket marked with Katie’s name from the shelf, and held it out in silence.

Katie heaved a pained sigh but retrieved her gloves and dropped them in.

Gwyn replaced the basket. “I take it you didn’t like my presentation.”

“It was all right.”

“Then maybe you’d like to explain why you’re not speaking to me?”

Katie mumbled something under her breath.

“Pardon me?”

“I said I wish Gareth could have come instead.” Katie glared at her, defiance in every tight line of her small body.

Even though she’d half-expected the response, Katie’s words struck to her core. Gwyn clenched her fists at her sides. Her daughter would rather have had Gareth there than her own mother...not hurtful exactly, but sobering.
 

Perhaps this would silence the sly
maybes
and
what ifs
that had plagued her since Gareth’s departure the night before.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but today was for parents, Katie, not for friends. Gareth was very kind to offer to go, but it turned out that Mrs. Sweatman could babysit for me instead.”

Katie scuffed at the ceramic tiles with her toe. “If you married Gareth,” she said in a soft voice, “he’d be my daddy, and then he could come.”

Feeling as if every molecule of air had just been sucked from her lungs, Gwyn struggled to compose herself. Damn. Despite her best effort, it seemed she’d waited too long after all.
 

 
“Um, I suppose that might be true if it ever happened, Katie, but – ” She spread her hands wide, at a loss for words.

“Marie-Josée’s mommy married
her
boyfriend.”

Gwyn scowled.
Bully for Marie-Josée’s mommy.

“Gareth is my friend, sweetie, not my boyfriend. There’s a big difference.”

“Don’t you like him?”

“Well, yes, but – ”

Her daughter’s face settled into stubborn lines. “He’d make a nice daddy.”

Way, way too long.

Gwyn’s temples thudded unmercifully.
 

With a superhuman effort, she pulled herself together and injected a firm note into her voice. “I’m sure that’s true,” she said, “but it’s not going to happen. Gareth is only visiting Ottawa, he lives a very long way away, and he has a whole other life besides us.”

Katie’s expression drooped. “I wish he didn’t.”
 

Me too, baby. Me, too.

Gwyn dropped a kiss on top of Katie’s smooth blond head and gave her a warm squeeze. Distraction time. For both of them.

“I think we still have peanut-butter cookies in the cupboard. Would you like me to warm some up for a snack?”

To her immense relief, Katie nodded, willing to follow the change of subject.

“With milk?”

“Of course. You go change into your play clothes, and I’ll fix the cookies. And Katie - ?” 
      A trusting blue gaze met hers and Gwyn’s heart contracted. Had those faint shadows always been a part of her daughter’s eyes?