Harlequin Superromance November 2014 - Box Set 2 of 2: Christmas at the Cove\Navy Christmas\Until She Met Daniel (4 page)

He turned off the faucet and replaced the rag with paper towels from the box on the wall. One by one the women he’d dated crept into his mind. None of them had hit the spot in his heart Carrie had, or even come close. So he walked away. Time and again. Did that make him a bad guy? Maybe, maybe not, but as far as Scott was concerned, he never intentionally hurt any of them.

His gut tightened. No? So why date them? Why romance them and sleep with some of them only to bail out in the end?
Just like your dad when it comes down to it, aren’t you?
Scott squeezed his eyes shut as one particular ex’s face rose up behind his closed lids. He’d run quicker from Amanda Arnold than he had the others. He told himself it was entirely because of Amanda’s trying and demanding personality, but the fact she had a kid too ate at his conscience.

God damn it. Who says I have to want to buy into that crap?
He marched across the garage floor, his mind a mess. Was it such a damn crime if he didn’t want to add more family obligation to the mountain he already carried?

Making a snap decision, he grabbed his cell phone. He needed reinforcements. Friends and allies out in the field looking for Carrie. One way or another, he had to know if the girl he’d seen in town last night was really her. If she was, he wanted to know why the hell she was back in Templeton.

He punched in his best friend’s number.

“Hey, man.” Nick Carson yawned loudly. “What’s up?”

Scott pushed his fingers through his too-long hair and wandered around a three-foot circumference. “I need a favor.”

“Uh-oh. You sound pissed.”

“I am.”

“Because...”

“I think she might be back.”

“Who?”

“Her.”

“Her? You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

“The blonde.”

“The blonde? Nope, still need more.”

Scott halted his pacing and glared. “Her. The blonde. The only woman to ever totally mess with my head. Her.”

A long moment passed before Nick sucked in a breath. “Ooohhh, her.”

Scott scowled. “Didn’t I say that clear enough the first time?”

“Hey, just take a minute, okay?”

“Take a minute?” Scott squeezed his eyes shut. “I haven’t had a single minute of head space since I almost knocked her off her feet in town last night. Jesus, Nick, you’ve got to do something.”

“
I’ve
got to do something? What does that mean? I never saw the woman.”

Scott stopped pacing. “You’re my friend, aren’t you? You’ve got to help me find her.”

Nick huffed out a laugh. “What’s the matter with you? Even if it was her, you’ve got enough sense to stay the hell away, right?”

Scott opened his eyes and glared toward the open garage door. Dark storm clouds gathered in the distance like an omen. Nick was right, finding her would surely lead to trouble. Trouble he didn’t need...but there was no way in hell he could let this go. He had to know if she was really Carrie. What he’d do about it if she was, he hadn’t figured out yet, but right then, not knowing ate at him from the inside out.

“Scott? Did you hear what I said?”

“I heard you.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“I’m guessing you haven’t spoken to her, so forget her.”

“How could I have spoken to her when I barely saw her?”

“Then what’s the problem here, man? If you haven’t spoken to her—”

“She smelled the same.” Scott closed one eye against the pain of his pitiful feelings.

“What?”

“She smelled the same. Exactly as I remember. Her hair is shorter but just as thick, just as pissing sexy as it was then.”

“You hear yourself, right? This is ridiculous. What is it you want me to do exactly? Come down there and put you in a damn straitjacket?”

“I’ve got plans, Nick. You know I’ve got plans.”

“Damn right I do. Plans that will make you rich after all the blood, sweat and tears you’ve put into that garage. So, what’s the problem?”

“She is. Having her turn up here.”

“I don’t understand. You’re saying if this mystery woman is the one you spent a few nights with, it changes everything? Don’t talk crap, man. This is one woman. A woman who disappeared. Who never called. I’ll be honest with you. I hope to God it isn’t her. She’s a hassle you don’t need.”

“How can either of us know that?” Protectiveness for Carrie burned like a fireball inside Scott’s chest. He clenched the phone. Memories of the way her body felt in his hands, the texture of skin as smooth as silk beneath his lips...

“Because of you. That’s how.” Nick sighed. “You love women, but you’ve never loved a woman like you did her. You fell like a shot, man. Bam! Face down on the floor with no idea how to get the hell back up. You don’t need that again. I’m telling you right now, if it’s her, get on your damn bike and leave the Cove today.”

“Sure. I’ll just run away. Don’t bother telling Mum or my sisters what I’m doing...” The click-clack of high heels yanked Scott’s head up like it was attached by a rubber band to the ceiling. He stared toward the door, his heart picking up speed.

Click, clack. Click, clack.

“Scott? You still there?” Nick’s voice filtered down the line.

Tension rippled through Scott’s body and his heart beat fast. Carrie came through the open door and halted. Their eyes locked.

Scott’s mouth drained dry. “I’ve gotta go.” He snapped the phone closed.

She stepped farther into the garage and closed her umbrella. He might have been mistaken, but he could have sworn her eyes widened as she cast her gaze over his chest. Before his ego could inflate an inch, their eyes met. God, she was beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed but her gaze steady as she clutched her purse at her stomach.

She tilted her chin. “Hello, Scott.”

That voice. He swallowed and crossed his arms, fighting a wince when his elbow knocked his injured hand. “So it was you I saw in town last night.”

She stiffened. “You saw me?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Does it matter?”

Time stood still and he cast his gaze over her face and body before he could stop himself. Desire burned and mixed with the shock pulsating through him. The atmosphere crackled, showing him all too clearly nothing had changed about his hot and crazy sexual attraction to this woman. He still wanted her, would willingly take her against the garage wall right then if she asked him.

She came closer and halted less than five feet away. He curled his hands into fists to stop from reaching for her as her gaze wandered over his face and chest, lingering at his bandaged hand before she met his eyes once more. “I have to talk to you.”

Her soft, husky voice whispered over his senses, raising every hair on his body, making his dick twitch awake as though it’d been dormant for three long years. He purposefully slammed his defenses into place. “Is that so?”

Her eyes flashed with a fire he remembered only too well when they’d been face-to-face at The Coast Inn. “Yes.” She glanced around the garage. “I’m sorry to turn up unannounced like this, but I’m here and we need to talk.”

He stared at her in disbelief as questions, demands and weaknesses hurtled around inside him, battling with the intense sexual frustration storming through his body. “Just like that, you turn up and say, ‘We need to talk’?” He shook his head and turned away from her, lest he get caught in the snare of her wide, impossibly gorgeous eyes. “Go away.”

“No.”

Keeping his back to her, he uncrossed his arms and planted his hands on his hips. He tipped his head back and smiled as insanity rushed his bloodstream. He wanted to grab her, shake her, kiss her and make love to her. God, he wanted to drop to his damn knees in front of her and beg her to tell him where she’d been and now she was back, was she back for good?

“Scott?”

He closed his eyes, barely resisting the urge to cover his ears and block out her voice, achingly laced with the unmistakable sound of a plea. “Whether you want to see me or not, I have to talk to you, and I won’t leave the Cove until you listen to me.”

Her heels clicked closer and his body tensed, waiting for what came next. The dangerous, musky scent of her perfume wafted under his nostrils and he inhaled. She approached the bench beside him and put down a business card. “My number’s on there. I’m staying at the Christie. Call me when you’re ready to talk. It’s important or I wouldn’t have come.”

He glanced at the card. Carrie Jameson. Producer.

She turned and walked away. He let her go, feeling like a smashed-up car after a hurricane, tossed and turned through the air before being spewed crudely across the highway, left to rust and burn.

He picked up the card. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Carrie was back and his libido told him only too clearly there was no way in hell he wouldn’t go to her. How was he supposed to let her leave again when he’d lived the last three years regretting he didn’t stop her the first time?

CHAPTER THREE

C
ARRIE
LEFT
THE
garage and strode into the street, her legs trembling. She clasped her hand over her mouth and ducked into an alleyway. Dropping her head back against the damp brick of the building, she welcomed the heavy rain as it battered her skin.

My God, he looked...amazing.

Scott Walker was still gorgeous, sexy and alive with a fire she stupidly thought she remembered so clearly—but hadn’t remembered accurately at all. The irresistible intensity surrounding him hadn’t lessened with time. It still seeped from every pore. His inexplicable manliness appealed to her senses and scored over her skin, like nothing she’d ever known with another man. It was crazy—yet so very, very real. She closed her eyes.

God, why did I come here expecting to control the situation?

When he stood in front of her, broad chested, with grease-smeared overalls hanging loose at his hips...Carrie drew in a long breath through flared nostrils as her center shamelessly pulled. The man burned with passion. When she looked into his eyes, his shock over seeing her scorched right through her skin and deep into her heart, making her want to kiss him...comfort him. Apologize. Ask him to forgive her. But how was she supposed to talk to him about Belle and get the hell home as quickly as possible when he affected her like this?

From the dark fall of his thick hair to the shadow of stubble at his jaw and upper lip, he was so entirely masculine she couldn’t stand how weak with desire he made her. This wasn’t who she was. She was a mum. A producer. A daughter. A widow...

Confusion and shock rocketed through her and she pushed away from the wall. She needed to get a grip. This was about Belle. Not her. Not Scott. There was no way she’d leave Templeton and go back home without doing what she came to do, so she’d better find a way to deal with his pull on her and find it quickly. She couldn’t let her fear of Scott’s potential to take her as easily as he did the first time change the reality he was Belle’s father. And she’d promised herself she’d tell Scott the truth.

Smoothing the front of her coat, she hitched her belt tighter and inhaled the moist winter air. Belle was growing and growing fast. Carrie could scarcely believe this was her daughter’s third Christmas. God, she should have done this months ago—why had it taken Gerard’s death to make her take responsibility for her actions?

Because I’m a coward. Because I was scared of this. Scared that I’d still be as attracted to Scott today as I was then. Scared that the suspicion in Gerard’s eyes whenever I spoke of Scott would be proven justified. Scared I would have to accept what Gerard knew all along...Scott matters to me.

Carrie’s tears slipped from beneath her closed lids and trickled a warm path down her icy cheeks. Gerard was a brave man. A selfless, wise and mature man. Her antithesis and, as far as she could tell, Scott’s too. Hence why she’d taken over a year to grieve and gather the strength to get through what she now had to do alone. Carrie shook her head. She’d convinced herself the time was right because with the time that had passed since she’d seen Scott, surely her attraction would be gone, obliterated by a loving marriage and a beautiful child teaching her so much about motherhood.

But no. It was still there, maybe burning more dangerously than before because this time she and Scott had a child together. The potential was there to know each other for the rest of their lives; to be side by side at Belle’s parent-teacher interviews, birthday parties, Christmas holidays...

Oh, God
. Carrie paced left and right as though looking for an escape as the alley’s walls closed in on her.
I have to take control. Arranging for Scott to see Belle at some point in the future is all that matters here. He doesn’t want me. He’s never wanted me. I have to remember that. If he felt half of what I felt, we would have found a way to be together.
She gave a curt nod and swiped at her face as sanity returned.

She glared toward the opening of the alleyway and belatedly opened her umbrella. Her carefully styled hair now hung in limp rats’ tails down her back. The next move was Scott’s, and she’d learn to be patient. There was nothing else to be done today. It was only fair she gave him a little time.

She exited the alley and, at the entrance, cast a glance toward the garage. She half expected him to be standing in the doorway, watching her with those midnight-blue eyes. The area in front of the garage was achingly empty.

Ignoring the jab in her chest that felt far too much like disappointment, Carrie dragged up the courage she needed if she had any hope of getting her mission done. Gripping her umbrella in front of her face against the wind and rain, she hurried along the road that would take her back to High Street. The rain hammered on her umbrella, matching the chaos screaming inside her.

The welcome sight of a bakery with lights burning through the cottage-style windows came into view. Tinsel and baubles glinted and twinkled behind the glass, beckoning Carrie inside. She yanked her umbrella closed and stepped gratefully through the door.

The bakery was deserted. Not a single customer sat at the pine tables or booths to keep her company...or better still, keep her hidden from observation. Yet, the smells were as close to heaven as a girl could get, and Carrie firmly closed the door. She’d enjoy a cup of coffee and then head back to the hotel.

Scott had twenty-four hours to contact her before she’d return to the garage and confront him a second time. He might have shaken her today, but she was determined that wouldn’t happen tomorrow.

She fluffed her hair that was already beginning to frizz and met the gaze of the woman standing behind the counter. She had a welcoming smile, but Carrie was shrewd enough to recognize the baker’s intense appraisal.

Carrie planted on a smile and approached the counter. “Hi.”

The woman’s gaze softened. “Good afternoon, lovely. What can I get you?”

Inexplicable warmth replaced the chill in Carrie’s bones that had bothered her every second since seeing Scott. She dropped her tense shoulders. “A cappuccino would be great. Thank you.”

“Anything else? I have freshly baked Christmas cookies and sweet mince pies, too.”

Carrie dragged her gaze from the woman’s sparkling brown eyes and looked through the pane of the glass-covered display counter. Her stomach grumbled with insistent demand. Every Christmas cookie imaginable was laid out on red, gold and green trays. Iced cakes and chocolate éclairs, grinning marshmallow snowmen and sparkling angel biscuits cruelly arranged and made purposely impossible to resist.

She sighed as her diet vanished...again. “Why not?” She smiled. “I’ll have one of the Santa cookies.”

The baker beamed with satisfaction. “Good choice. Why don’t you take a seat and get out of your wet coat? I’ll bring your coffee and cookie over in two ticks.”

“Thank you.” Carrie looked around before heading for the booth farthest away from the counter. She took off her coat, tossed it over the seat and slid close to the window. Rain slid in continuous zigzags down the glass, blurring the view of the street. She pulled her cell phone from her bag and hovered her finger over her mother’s number. She longed to hear Belle’s voice but knew it would be pathetic to call again so soon. She’d only left her at her parents’ house the day before. If she was going to do what she came to do, she had to be strong.

Yet, as strong and succinct as she was in her working life, Carrie couldn’t remember a time she’d felt so alone since burying Gerard. Seeing Scott again had not only evoked dormant sexual yearning, it had brought on an explosion of further guilt and betrayal toward Gerard. How was she going to handle these conflicting emotions? Heat rose in her face. She was a horrible, horrible person.

The soft brush of approaching footsteps broke through her melancholy and Carrie looked up. The woman from behind the counter placed Carrie’s cappuccino on the table, followed by a brightly decorated Christmas plate donning her grinning Santa cookie.

The baker slid onto the opposite seat and set down her teacup before meeting Carrie’s gaze. “I’m Marian. Welcome to Templeton.” She offered her hand and glanced toward the window. “I promise the Cove isn’t always this gray and damp.”

Carrie shook Marian’s hand and smiled. “Carrie Jameson, and I know just how sunny Templeton can be. You have a beautiful town.”

“We do...and a lot of visitors.”

Carrie tensed and braced herself for whatever was coming next. Marian might appear friendly but her gaze was dark with curiosity. Small towns, more often than not, equaled little anonymity.

Marian lifted a brow. “So you know Templeton? I don’t remember seeing you around here before.”

Carrie took a sip of her coffee and its delicious rich and chocolaty taste slid warm and comforting down her throat. “That’s because the last time I was here, coffee was way down on the agenda.”

“Want to tell me what was on the agenda...and when?”

“You’re not very backward in coming forward, are you?” Carrie struggled to fight her smile.

Marian grinned. “Nope. If you’re here to stay for the holidays and like your coffee, you’ll soon get to know me and realize how keen I am to know who’s who in town. I love Templeton as much as I love my George. I like to know who everyone is.”

“Well, as delicious as your coffee is, I won’t be here for the holidays. I was here a while ago on a weekend trip with friends.” Carrie smiled wryly. “Although, that seems a lifetime ago now.”

Marian frowned. “But you had a good time?”

Far too good
. Carrie forced a smile. “Yes. Templeton’s lovely.”

“So you like the Cove, but you’re not here for the holidays.” Marian frowned. “Are you here on some unfinished business?”

Despite Marian’s unabashed interrogation, Carrie warmed to this gray-haired baker with soft, motherly curves and keen inquisitiveness. She glanced toward the window. “I’m here to deliver a message. Then I’ll be heading straight home.”

“I see.” Marian raised her teacup to her lips, her gaze steady above the rim. “And I guess by the sudden hint of sadness in your eyes, the recipient of this message is a man.”

Carrie’s wavering defenses slotted back into place. “Maybe.”

Marian grinned. “There’s no maybe about it. What’s his name?”

“You don’t give up easily, do you?” Carrie raised an eyebrow.

“Nope.”

“I don’t like to be rude, but I’d rather not say.”

Marian’s smile dissolved, but she shrugged good-naturedly. “Fair enough.”

They lapsed into silence and Carrie watched Marian as she drank. For some reason, she could imagine her in a big, dusty bookshop, browsing the shelves and gossiping. Although, she suspected the baker’s laughter was a loud boom rather than a snigger and might not be too welcome in a bookshop. Yet, Carrie would bet money it was a laugh that people loved.

She shook off her burgeoning fondness for this woman and looked toward the window. She had to be on her guard and not get drawn into any semblance of friendship while she was there. One look into Scott’s eyes told Carrie the man was private. Guarded. She wasn’t entirely different. The last thing she wanted was to inadvertently add more fuel to an already burning fire by spreading their business all over town.

The bell over the door announced a new arrival and Carrie darted her gaze to the entrance. The man who came in was tall with blond hair and a fit, athletic physique. He ran his hand over his short-cropped hair and looked to Marian. His face broke into a wide smile. “There she is. One of the usual when you’re ready, my darling.”

“Can’t you see I’m having a sit-down? Come here and meet Carrie. She’s in town visiting awhile.”

Carrie inwardly grimaced. She didn’t want any more people knowing her name. She’d been in Templeton less than twenty-four hours and it seemed everyone was far too keen to introduce themselves to her...thus forcing her to be civil in return.

The man strode forward, his head bent as he shrugged out of his jacket. He looked up, and the moment he met Carrie’s eyes, he drew to a sharp stop. “Oh, no. You’re blonde.”

Carrie glanced from his wide-eyed stare to Marian and back again. “So are you.”

He glared. “Not funny. You’re new in town and you’re blonde.”

Marian shifted in her seat. “What’s the matter with you, Nick? That’s no way to say hello to a lady the first time you meet. Now show some manners. This is Carrie Jameson.” She smiled at Carrie. “Carrie, this is Nick Carson, Templeton’s resident superstar DJ.”

Carrie held out her hand despite her unease. “Nice to meet you.”

Nick stared at her with open dislike. He took her hand in his but instead of shaking and releasing, he held it firmly. “Are you in town to see Scott Walker, by any chance?”

Shock caught Carrie’s breath in her throat and she snatched her hand from his. She shot her gaze to Marian. “I’d better go. It was nice—”

“Have you seen him yet?”

Nick’s demand turned her head and Carrie narrowed her eyes, her spine rigid. “I don’t know who you’re talking about. I really need to go.” She shimmied along the seat and stood.

He crossed his arms. “Scott doesn’t need any trouble. Why don’t you go back to wherever it is you’ve come from and leave the man in peace? He’s got plans. Plans that don’t need altering.”

Irritation flared like a lit flint behind her ribcage and Carrie glared, grateful to vent some frustration on this arrogant idiot...all semblance of friendliness vanishing. “Is that so? Well, unfortunately for Scott, plans change...but, believe me, I’ll do my utmost to make sure his life, and mine, stay just the way they are.”

“So you are her. The blonde who’s going to mess up his head again.”

“Will you stop calling me ‘the blonde’? I have a name, you know.” She snatched up her coat and turned her back to him as she buttoned it, yanking the belt tight.

“He’s made a good life for his family. Why are you here? What do you want from him?”

His family.
Scott’s married? Has kids?
Carrie opened her mouth, but no words formed as her heart thundered.
Oh, God. Why didn’t I consider he could have a family?