Last Chance Proposal (9 page)

Jonty shook his head. Contradiction warred within Cy, wanting to keep his little boy safe and wanting to be alone with Ellie. It was one thing Jonty having new experiences, but was he ready to let his son go off with other people who might not recognize the signs of a panic attack was another.

“Hang on a minute.” He indicated to Ellie and Fleur that he needed to speak to them, and they walked out of the boys’ earshot. Jonty was pointing out paua shells in the steps to Louis.

Cy rubbed his hand across his chin and turned to Fleur. “Are you sure you’re okay to take him? You’d need to look for any signs that he’s stressed, keep him with you at all times, and send someone to get me if anything goes wrong. He hasn’t been around lots of kids in a long time.”

Fleur nodded. “He seems good when he’s with Louis, but come if you want to.”

Ellie laid a hand on his arm. “They’ll be fine, Cy. It’s only down the beach and you saw how excited both boys were when Louis asked about it. Maybe a little independence will be good for J. Look how well he did when he was alone on the boat with me. Good things are happening for him.”

He looked at Ellie, and she squeezed his arm as he looked into her smiling eyes. “Katie Newport will be there,” she said. “Fleur can send her straight down here if something goes wrong.”

“Okay.” He pushed away the memory of Jonty’s reaction at the glowworms, and the guilt that he was putting his needs before his son’s. “Thanks for doing this, Fleur.

When he’d waved his son good-bye, Cy watched him follow Louis like a little shadow down the beach, ducking in and out of driftwood piles. When Cy looked at Ellie, a smile touched her face and he knew that wanting to be alone with her wasn’t wrong.

“I understand that’s a big step, letting him go like that.” Her voice was soft, and she held his gaze seconds longer before turning back to the house.

He climbed the stairs after her and shrugged his worry away. “I know he’ll be fine with Fleur, but I don’t understand why he didn’t want me there.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, an impish grin sparking her features. It looked perfect on her.

“I’ll have to tell him about the wedding sometime soon. He’ll need to be with us at the registry office, of course. I was thinking since he’s starting to be more relaxed that I might tell him after Christmas, what do you think?”

“Whatever you think’s best. How much will you tell him?”

He took off his denim jacket and threw it on the couch. “I’m not sure yet. I don’t want to lie, but I also don’t want him to think we’re going to be together forever. I’ll have to think about it. Hey, I’ve got a couple bottles of bubbles on ice for Christmas Day. What say we open one now? To celebrate all the new beginnings we have to look forward to. I can go get another one from Tom tomorrow.”

She grinned as her eyes sparkled. “Go on then. There’s so much to do before Christmas Day, I’ll need to stay up all night anyway.”

After he’d retrieved the wine from the fridge, Cy popped the cork and poured the fizzing liquid into two glasses. Ellie still sat at the table, but now her bare feet were propped on a chair opposite, her slim ankles crossed. He handed her a glass and she grinned. “Here’s to Jonty and you and to another fifty years of Rata Cove.”

He touched her glass with his. “And to the woman who’s guaranteed a perfect future for all three.”

A smile bracketed her mouth. “And old times.” She put the glass to her lips and drank.

He swallowed a mouthful of champagne, and as rivers of warmth flowed with it through his body, the tension of letting his son go to the practice lifted from his shoulders.

He nodded and placed his glass on the table. “Tell me. How was Jonty while I was snorkeling?” He topped up her glass and waited for the corners of her mouth to drop and the lines on her face to draw deeper. But neither happened. Instead, the smile touching her face grew wider as she cradled the glass in her hands.

“It was amazing.”

He straightened in his chair. “Amazing?” Sudden excitement burned. He’d presumed they’d have sat looking at each other. “Did he—” Cy shook his head. No, he couldn’t let himself hope it. “Did he…say something?”

“No, he didn’t speak, but somehow we had a conversation. About his mum’s scarf and what her favorite colors might’ve been.”

He couldn’t stop watching the light dancing on her face and the sweet lift of her lips.

“About what’s scary when you’re six years old and the things we’ve both done to make ourselves feel better.”

“Really? You talked about all that with him?” His heart beat higher in his body, and bright rays of hope surged beneath his skin. He wanted to grab her hand, lace his fingers through hers, and share this experience, share the connection she’d made with his son.

“And more.” Her tone was impish. “But I can’t tell you what. A girl has to keep a secret if she’s asked to. It’s important to do the right thing.”

“Perhaps I should do the right thing and reply to your toast.” He held up the glass and waited for her to bring her hand closer. “To us, and how little we’ve changed.”

Her chin lifted and her lips parted. “To us?” She shook her head slightly. “You really don’t think we’ve changed?” Her voice was low.

He watched her mouth, champagne-moist, and took a swig of his own, the cool, fizzing liquid stinging his throat as he swallowed. “You haven’t changed at all.”

She put her mouth to the glass but kept her eyes on his and something punched him way down deep.

It was a lie, and she knew it.

Instead of the young and vulnerable girl he used to know, now a strong and independent—sexy—woman sat before him. She swallowed her mouthful and the smooth movement of liquid sliding down her throat drew his stare to her slender neck and the vanilla skin shimmering there. He’d kissed that skin once and could remember the sweet taste of it. But what would it taste like now? Now that she was a woman who’d no doubt had a number of lovers, a woman who’d know what she wanted.

Back then she’d been comfortable, safe. She’d changed all right, more than he’d thought possible, and it was playing hell with his focus.

“I’d like to have changed,” she said softly, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Why?”

She took another mouthful of the wine and slowly swirled it around her mouth, the sultry movement of her lips mesmerizing him.

Hot need beat down low and he crunched his stomach muscles tight. No. He couldn’t. Wouldn’t. If he got too close to Ellie right now, he’d end up hurting her and screwing with Jonty’s life. He wouldn’t let either of those things happen. When the custody was assured, it would be a different story. Then he could put his energies into winning her back for real.

“If I’d changed, I wouldn’t be scared anymore.”

He tried, but he couldn’t make himself look past her. He set his glass on the polished tabletop and thought he heard her take a deeper breath.

Moving to get up, she knocked her glass from the table with her elbow. It smashed in a thousand pieces on the floor, the tinkle echoing around the room like a choir. Startled, she stood and took a step toward him and, unthinkingly, he reached for her.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Her eyes were wide and infinite. Only inches away.

“What wouldn’t you be scared of if…you’d changed?” he whispered, his mind spinning.

Her tongue ran across her bottom lip, and then she drew it between her teeth before releasing it. “Not scared of failing people. Not scared that if I didn’t do the right thing, somebody would take the things I love away.” She looked away from him. The meaning beneath her words scrambled in his ears. Did she still love him? God, his brain was so heated he wasn’t sure. Hadn’t she only agreed to marry him to pay him back for the secret he’d kept for her? Leaning closer, his throat closed, but his senses stood to attention and he smothered the warning in his head.

“Would you be scared of what would happen if I kissed you now?” He rasped the words out but instead of leaning into him, she stayed there, inches away, looking directly into his face and sending fingers of heat through him.

He stayed rigid, knowing this shouldn’t happen, that he’d been tempted once before by her and didn’t follow through. One kiss wouldn’t be enough… Looking down at the chestnut waves of her hair, her perfect nose, and the pout of her lips, every cell in his body ached to be nearer. Her amber eyes sparked as he reached out and traced the soft skin of her cheek.

His head told him to stay where he was, not to bend and remove the inch it would take for his lips to touch hers, that this was madness. His body had other ideas.

An explosion of need ripped through him and he claimed her mouth with his own. The pressure of her lips against his was sweetly firm. Her breath whispered softly across his face, her palms pressed against his chest before she pulled back, leaving them both gasping for air.

There was nothing comfortable or safe about Ellie Jacobs anymore, and it scared the living daylights out of him.

Chapter Seven

Ellie stepped back and shook her head. “No, Cy.”

His chest constricted and instinctively he stepped closer. Confusion painted her face.

“This wasn’t…I’m not…” Her words wobbled as she touched her hands to her face. “I said I’d marry you, but this wasn’t part of the deal.”

His throat was so dry. He had to swallow before he could get it to work. “What if we changed the deal?”

“It’s what we agreed, Cy,” she said, but a flush bloomed from her neck up to her cheeks.

His fingertips tingled with the need to touch her, to feel her skin. “Maybe I want more.”

His breath caught at the beauty of the idea. Why
shouldn’t
they have more? They were adults, with their eyes open. He knew she still wanted him, had caught her looking at him. More could be better. Could take their arrangement to another level.

“More?” she said faintly.

He stepped closer, till he could feel her body heat. “Tell me you don’t want more, Ellie.”

Her voice wavered. “A summer fling, a bit of kissing practice so people will believe we have a real relationship like we had on the beach today?” She shook her head. “You haven’t thought this through.”

Thinking? If he were in control of his mind and body when he was around her, this wouldn’t be happening. “Ellie, it’s not about anything other than me wanting to kiss you.”

She shifted as if to leave, then looked directly in his face. “For the here and now? For the next two weeks? Trying to get closer to me so our relationship will seem more authentic and you can be more sure of getting what you want isn’t what I signed up for.” Her words came more quickly. “I’ve lied as much as I’m going to in my life. I’m not going to pretend we can have a real relationship when I know we can’t.”

“Ellie, that’s
not
what’s happening here. I’d never try to seduce you to get something I wanted. I’d never hurt you.”

Her wild honey eyes flashed as the bald truth hit him. Of course he had the power to hurt her. He’d done it before. Once. And even though he’d left to spare her the weight of him wanting to tell, and she wanting to keep their secret, he’d never forgotten the pain on her face or the tears on her cheeks.

She said nothing for a moment, then moved to the fireplace and picked up the dustpan and brush. “You’re just getting carried away in the moment.”

“Ellie…”

She began vigorously sweeping the pieces of glass into the dustpan, a loose ringlet falling across her face. “There’s too much history between us, Cy, too much hurt for us to get over. If that kiss is some sort of apology—”

“Trying to fix what happened in the past is not why I kissed you now.”

She shook her downcast head. “You’re under a lot of stress. You kissed me because we have unfinished business. Things didn’t end the way they should have between us, but now we owe it to ourselves and Jonty to start fresh.”

“You mean you don’t feel the same connection I feel to you? I can’t believe that.”

“I don’t believe you really feel a connection,” she said, her tone softening. “You want the situation with Jonty to work out so badly that you’ll do whatever it takes, but this isn’t a game. I haven’t offered you my body or my heart.”

Tiny furrows scarred her brow and his gut hollowed out. He reached for the dustpan. “I’ll take that.” She looked away as he took the broken glass from her and emptied it in the kitchen. He steeled himself as he came into the lounge. She was right; he could screw everything up if he wanted something and she didn’t. Imagine if this spooked her into withdrawing her agreement to marry him.

“I’m sorry, Ellie, but I can’t help how I feel, and I’m pretty damn sure you feel it too.”

Her shoulders slumped.

He pushed out a sharp breath as he steadied himself against the lintel. She still had to know there was no hidden agenda. “I kissed you now because it felt right.” He took a step forward as a rush of awareness trapped him. “I kissed you because I was sick of imagining it every time I’m with you.”

She leaned on an old bookshelf, her face soft but resigned. “You’re hurting, Cy. You’ve come back here to find reassurance that some parts of your life are the same as they always were.” The caring in her tone unraveled him. “But they’re not. I’m not. Long term I don’t want to be a wife and mother. I’ve built a life for myself, something I’m not going to abandon for a flimsy relationship founded on deception and disappointments. I’ve agreed to marry you and live with you for one year and that’s all. That’s all I have to give.”

A sharp pain dug into his chest and he pressed the wood of the doorway beneath his fingertips. “I know you’re not the same.”

“We’ve both moved on to incredibly different places in our lives. We’re just going to end up hurting each other, and more importantly Jonty, if we pretend otherwise.” She waved her hand across her lips as if dismissing the tingle still radiating in his. “You’re trying to make something out of a relationship that can never be.”

The words slapped him and he shook his head. She thought he was manipulating her. It was sketched in the lines by her mouth and the shadows on her face. He wasn’t wrong, he was certain she still felt something for him. But having Ellie to help fight for his son was way more important than having her in his arms. He had to keep remembering that or everything could fall apart.

“Okay,” he said. “If you’re not ready to acknowledge what’s happening between us, I’ll respect that, but I can’t ignore the way I feel.”

Ellie sank down into the sofa and dropped her head into her hands. She’d only been back from Cy’s for half an hour and her legs were still jelly, her skin still humming from what had happened. For so long she’d imagined being that close to him again, savoring the feel of his lips on hers, sinking into his strong arms, but she’d been surprised by the intensity of her reaction.

He was desperate, she got that, but he needed to know she’d worked too hard on her happiness in the last few years to throw it all away on a quick fling. Whether he’d kissed her because he hadn’t thought through what it might mean for her, or because some real reaction from her might help when he was faking the kiss in public, she wasn’t sure.

Whatever the reason, deep down she knew that part of him hadn’t changed. She still sensed something coiled inside Cy, like he was ready to bolt at any minute. The way he’d reacted at the glowworms was a prime example of how he pushed others away when things got difficult.

“Ellie! Ellie! Where are you?” Fleur’s voice flew across the garden from the gate.

Jonty.
Ellie rushed onto the deck to meet her, heart pounding. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh. My. God.” Fleur panted, red-faced as she ran onto the deck, her flip-flops in her hand. Louis, as usual, swaggered behind. “You won’t believe it, Ell.” She put a palm flat on her chest as if to slow her heart. “He talked.” Her eyes shone as they widened.

“Really? That’s incredible!”

She collapsed into a chair, breathing heavily, and Ellie sat down next to her, heart still racing.
The miracle Cy’s been waiting for.

“Well, he didn’t actually talk, but he
sang
. He sang with all the kids when they were onstage doing
,
“A Pukeko in a Ponga Tree.” Her words ran into each other as she rushed on.

“Cyndi Abberley was teaching everyone the words to the final song and when she told them about the last line
, ‘
A Pukeko in a Ponga Tree,’ he got all excited and started squirming on his chair. Louis told Cyndi about Jonty’s little pukeko chick, so Cyndi said if we could find a toy pukeko, he could hold it and be the ponga tree in the pageant. He went up onstage with Louis, and then he started singing with the other kids!”

Fleur paused and chewed her lip. “Well, I don’t actually know if he made any
noise
, but he definitely mouthed all the words and did all the actions.”

Ellie leaned forward as Louis ambled past them into the house. She was desperate for every last detail. “What did Cy say when you dropped Jonty off? He’d have been over the moon.” If only she could’ve seen his face. If she hadn’t left so quickly, she could’ve seen his joy.

Fleur hesitated. “I didn’t tell him.”

“You what? How could you not tell him something so huge?”

Fleur tucked her legs under her. “I said to Jonty on the way out, ‘Wait till we tell your dad,’ and he and Louis started jumping up and down.” She shrugged. “God knows how Louis understands, it’s like they’ve got a secret language, but he said that Jonty wants it to be a surprise for his dad. He doesn’t want Cy to know about the performance until New Year’s Eve.”

Ellie leaned back and nodded. “I told Jonty about the pageant, how his dad had loved being in it and it seemed to touch something in him.” She remembered his shining face and blossoming smile. “How can we keep it a secret from Cy, though? Jonty will have to go to practice every day for a week.”

Fleur grinned. “I thought about that. We can take the boys to practice. Make some excuse about Cy not needing to come. He’ll think it’s some sort of hero worship Jonty’s got for Louis anyway, so we can pretend that’s what’s happening.”

Ellie blew out a breath. “It will be an amazing surprise.”

“He’ll be fine,” her sister said. “Honestly, I think part of that little guy’s problem is that he can sense Cy’s fear. A few interactions with other people away from his dad might be what he needs.”

Jonty deserved fun and happiness, and it was lovely he’d found some in Rata Cove. A spark raced through her and she couldn’t help but grin. She could only imagine the shock on Cy’s face when he saw Jonty up onstage New Year’s Eve.

Fleur tilted her head to one side and shot her sister a look from under her lashes. “Speaking of surprises, there was an empty champagne flute on the table at Cy’s place and he told me to be careful where I walked because another got smashed.” Her eyes narrowed. “Funny, don’t you think?”

Crawling heat spread across Ellie’s face. Ignoring Fleur’s penetrating stare, Ellie smiled and looked away.

“You still look good together, Ellie, and it’s nice that you’ve rekindled your friendship. People won’t have such a hard time believing you’re in love.”

Christmas Day.

The thought tumbled over and over in Ellie’s head as she woke hot and sticky the next morning, a sheet wrapped around her middle. She’d been dreaming about making love to Cy in a tent in the desert. He’d been a sheik in flowing robes and somehow she’d got tangled up in them. She squeezed her eyes tight and buried her head in the pillow. That was
not
the sort of dream she should’ve been having after their argument last night.

The dull light indicated it was still very early but there was a noise outside her room. Banging.
Thwump, thwump
, over and over.

She dragged her head up and listened. Yes, banging—coming from the lounge room. Suddenly her door opened and Fleur’s smiling face appeared. “You might want to get up. Seems Santa’s been and he brought weapons.”

Ellie pulled on a bathrobe and slid her bedroom door open before she’d had time to wake properly. “What time is it?” she managed through a dry mouth. “Is the sun up? I thought a couple of possums—”

“Merry Christmas!”

Her stomach pitched. Cy, Jonty, and Louis sat on the floor with wrapping paper scattered around them. She pulled a hand through her hair and her fingers snagged in the unruly mess. What was Cy doing here? On Christmas morning? In her living room?

She hadn’t seen him yesterday, but the brand on her lips from where he’d kissed her the day before flamed and her knees went weak. The thin cotton of her nightgown seemed too little protection as her body hummed with the memory. If she looked in his eyes, she might burst into flames.

“Look what Santa brought, Aunt Ellie!” Louis spoke, rapid-fire. “He must’ve found out I’m friends with J now ’cause he brought us both terror swords!”

“Terror what?”

“A terror sword. Look!” He waved around an enormous gray sword with flashing lights. “This is the other half of Jonty’s one and when you use them together they know what moves the other one’s doing.”

The bulging Christmas stocking at Louis’s feet was barely visible under red-and-gold wrapping paper. The toys looked expensive, and there was no way Fleur could have afforded such a thing. Cy must have bought them. A curl of gratitude unwound in her chest. Cy had been unsure about Jonty’s first Christmas in New Zealand, and now he’d made it extra special for both boys.

Louis jumped up in his racing car pajamas. “Come on, J. Let’s show Ellie.”

Jonty hopped up, too, and like a couple of samurai warriors, the boys thumped the swords against each other and recorded sounds of metal clashing, fighter jets screaming, and cows mooing filled the room.

“Wow!” Ellie laughed. “I’ve never seen such fabulous swords, have you, Cy?”

She turned toward him and when he looked across at her he grinned, his eyes sparking bright with the same desire she’d seen there two days ago.

“We thought Santa was pretty sharp finding out that these two are friends,” he said.

“I had heard that Santa’s pretty smart.” A smile tugged her mouth.

Fleur came in with coffees. “I’m going into the bush out back to cut some
pohutukawa
blossoms for the table decoration. I’ll take the boys with me so the neighbors don’t think someone’s being drawn and quartered. Is that okay, Cy?’