Once More From the Top (The Women of Willow Bay) (4 page)

FOUR

Clouds played tag with the early afternoon sun as Carrie walked along the hard-packed sand of the Lake Michigan shoreline, her thoughts consumed with Liam—and Jack—as they had been most of the day. She didn’t keep regular hours at the studio, so when she finished her appointment, she’d locked up and run to the one place she knew she’d find peace—the lake. The lake, the beach, and a camera could always soothe her when she was stressed or feeling blue.

Rounding a curve in the shore she spotted the old lighthouse in the distance. This was her favorite stretch of beach because it was usually quiet and deserted. A freighter moved along the horizon and she watched for a moment, her hand shading her eyes. Lifting the camera, she took several shots of the boat and then turned to get some pictures of the lighthouse.

She had hundreds of photographs of Willow Point lighthouse—shots of the water, the rocky shoreline, the old lighthouse perched on the top of the cliff. But still, she always took pictures whenever she came out to this spot. Each time the light was a little different or the clouds created new shadows on the dunes where the Queen Anne’s Lace and beach grass she loved grew wild.

Carrie spread out her beach towel and plopped down on the sand, dropping her canvas bag beside her. Rummaging through the bag, she found the water and apple she’d packed when she got home from work. Not much of a lunch, but her stomach was still uneasy from her encounter with Liam. All morning, she’d replayed the brief meeting, wishing she’d been braver and simply told him everything. Then it would be over and maybe the knot in her belly would subside.

She’d seen him peering in the studio window as she hid in the back room, peeking around the curtained doorway. What a coward she was. Hell, she hadn’t even mustered the courage to talk to Eliot yet. No, she’d escaped to the beach the minute she finished for the day, ready to let the lake work its magic on her frazzled nerves.

She munched thoughtfully, unable to get her mind off Liam. She had to tell him about Jack—and probably soon—but not now. And there was more… the whole mess with Marty and the money…

Dammit.

What a tangled web she’d woven by not revealing her pregnancy to Liam from the very beginning. Would it have been easier? Maybe. But what did it matter now?

She finished the apple, took a sip of water, and pulled off her sweatshirt. Using it as a pillow, she lay back in the sand, closing her eyes against the bright rays of the sun. Until a few hours ago, she would have denied vigorously that she was torch-carrying for Liam Reilly, but she
had
lived almost like a nun, never allowing another man to get close to her, devoting herself entirely to her son. His effect on her was beyond disturbing. She hated that he could still stop her dead with just a smile. Too much to think about right now…

* * * *

The sharp tingle of sand on her bare legs woke Carrie. Opening one eye, she squinted sleepily at the silhouette towering over her, blocking the afternoon sun. Both eyes flew open when she recognized the fiery highlights in Liam’s hair.

“Don’t you think it’s dangerous to fall asleep alone on an empty beach? Anyone could attack you or steal your stuff.” His voice was rough.

“I’m on this beach almost every day.” She pulled herself to a sitting position, wishing she’d worn something nicer than crumpled denim shorts and a faded yellow T-shirt. “No one bothers me.
Usually.
”

He’d changed into khaki shorts and a green polo shirt under a lightweight navy windbreaker. Worn leather sandals showed his long feet, and his tanned legs were dusted with gold-red hair. A memory of those legs tangled with hers came unbidden to her mind. She sent the picture packing. “What can I do for you, Liam?”

“This morning when we bumped into each other at the coffee shop, I… um… I thought we could get to know each other again.” He sat down in the sand a few feet away from her. “We moved so fast in Montreal, it was crazy, but I believed it was real. Then you just... blew me off. I never knew why. When I saw you playing Saturday night, it all came back to me.” Pausing, he gazed out across the lake. “I was also pretty surprised by the fact that when I sat down at your table this morning, all I could think about was kissing you.”

Carrie’s jaw dropped as he continued in a monotone. He wasn’t even looking at her. “Ten
seconds in the same room and I wanted to drag you away and—well, you get the picture.” His mouth twisted. “But you were so cool. You acted like we didn’t even know each other.”

She dropped her gaze, unable to look him in the eye. Not while she lied through her teeth as she was about to do. “It was a long time ago. I don’t remember everything, but I do remember feeling that I
didn’t
know you back then. I didn’t want to follow you all over the world, waiting in hotel rooms or backstage like some groupie. That wasn’t who I wanted to be.”

“Really?
You certainly had me fooled when you let me send you a ticket to London.” His voice was cold. “Yeah, we fell fast and hard. But I opened up to you like I never had with any other woman. We might’ve made it.”

Her heart was pounding so hard, she was amazed he couldn’t hear it. “Liam, listen, I—”

He held up one hand as he stared out across the water. Even though they weren’t touching, she could feel the tension coiled in his body. Why wouldn’t he look at her?

“That’s my boat at your uncle’s marina and Eliot told me where you lived.
When I walked around town earlier, your studio was closed so I came back to your apartment. I guess I thought maybe we could try it again, but you weren’t there. So I went down to the bait shop to see if your uncle might know where I could find you.”

Now
, he was eyeing her. An inkling of fear niggled at her as he continued with almost deliberate indifference. “He was out with a customer, so I wandered around.”

Her heart hammered, and her mouth went dry. Still she managed to remain outwardly composed.

What had he seen?

She tried to picture the shop, but her mind was a jumble of fear as he went on, his voice rising.

“You’ll never guess what I found on the bulletin board next to a flyer for the fish taxidermist.” He pulled a photograph from his pocket and tossed it in her lap.

She already knew what it was.
The photo of Jack. Margie had taken it just last week when they launched the
Penguin,
the sailboat he and Noah had refurbished. Apparently, Noah had pinned the picture on the bulletin board. She sat in silence, trying to calm the clutch of fear in her stomach.

“Where’s my son?” Liam demanded. “And don’t even bother denying he’s mine. My half-blind granny would recognize that boy as a Reilly.”

Carrie raised her eyes to his, expecting anger. Prepared for fury. And clearly, he
was
furious, but the pain in his expression shocked her speechless—pain so raw it cut through her like a knife.

“Why would you do that?” His voice was so quiet she had to lean closer to hear his next broken question. “Why? Why would you have my child and not tell me?”

There was no point in denying any of it. “I considered telling you.” She slid her eyes away from his rage and anguish to stare at the photo. “More than once.”

“What the
fuck
, Carrie?” He was trembling. “It’s been fifteen years. You’ve hidden my son from me for
fifteen years
.”

“I was afraid.” Her response was barely audible above the water lapping on the shore. Liam put one finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“Afraid of
what
?” Tears shimmered in his eyes, and bewilderment triumphed over outrage for second.

She bit the inside of her lower lip, trying to control its tremor. She couldn’t speak.

“Jesus!” Liam’s grip on her chin tightened. “What did you think would happen? Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”

“I–I didn’t want you like
that
—not forced into a relationship with me because we spent one afternoon in your bed. We’d only known each other for a week. It would’ve changed your career. Everything you’d worked for. You–you’d end up hating me,” she stammered, twisting her head away.

“But you didn’t think I’d hate you if you had my baby and never told me?” His hands clenched into fists, turning his knuckles white. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Carrie swallowed hard, determined not to let the tears flow. “I don’t know. I thought we were over. Then when Jack was born, you were becoming this—this celebrity. I knew we’d never fit into that life, not a wife and a baby.” Pausing, she searched for words to defuse his anger. “Later, I suppose I could’ve called you. Okay, I
should’ve
called you, but there was no right time. I was so scared of losing him. He’s all I have.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Confusion and fury flashed in his eyes. He shoved his fingers through his hair, pressing it back against his head.

“I couldn’t have a custody battle with you,” she said. “I knew you’d win. I didn’t have anything to fight you with. The best I could hope for would be joint custody, and how could we have done that? Where would
you
fit a child in your life? It seemed impossible.” Breathless, she wrapped her arms around her knees and stared out at the lake.

He rose, and she raised her head to watch him through blurry eyes, half hoping he’d simply walk away. Anger showed in his stiff frame as he paced the beach, head down, hands fisted at his sides. Finally, he stopped and plopped down. “How in the hell could you do this? Didn’t I at least deserve a chance to be in on the decision?” He peered into her face. “Dammit, Carrie, I just want to—” His fingers curled into a fist.

She shifted away from him.

Dropping his hand, he rested his forehead on his bent knees. When he raised his head, he closed his eyes, the muscles working in his jaw. He swallowed hard. “That’s his name? Jack?”

“Jackson Michael Halligan.” Carrie forced a wan smile.

“You gave him
my
middle name?” Liam’s face lit up just for an instant as she nodded. “And why Jackson?”

“Jackson was my father’s first name.”

“And he was born... in late January?” She could see him calculating in his head.

“January thirtieth, actually.”

“God, that’s my brother Duncan’s birthday.”

There didn’t seem to be a good response to that so she sat quietly. He stood again and walked up the beach a little ways. She wished she could read his mind, know what he was thinking. He walked back to her and she leapt up, sliding Jack’s picture into her pocket. When he reached out for it, she handed it to him.

“This is the real reason Eliot called me to do the benefit, isn’t it?” He waved the snapshot before pocketing it himself. “Why did he decide to come to me now?”

“I don’t know. He believes I should have told you from the beginning, but I made him promise to stay out of it. He’s getting older—almost eighty and his health isn’t great. Maybe he’s tying up loose ends or crossing this off his bucket list.” She gave a little shrug when her attempt at lightening the mood fell flat.

“This is one hell of a loose end.”

“Don’t blame Eliot for any of this.” She reached out to touch his arm, but snapped her hand back before she made contact. One touch and any chance of clear thinking would be gone. “He’s been by my side since the day Dad died. His choices came from a deep devotion to me.” She exhaled a long breath. “Including coming to you now, I guess.”

Liam shoved his hand into his jacket pocket, kicking at the sand as he withdrew the picture. “Tell me about Jack.” He held up the photo, staring at it with an intensity that sent a shiver racing the length of her spine. “He could be my nephew Jamie’s twin. That’s actually why this picture stopped me. He’s sixteen, Duncan’s youngest.”

“Jack’s beautiful,” she replied, not guarding her
words for the first time since she’d seen Liam. “And smart and completely charming.”
He’s you.
She only wished she dared say those words out loud. “He’ll be a sophomore at—” She hesitated a fraction of a second. “—in the fall. He loves to swim and read and sail. He’s funny and curious about everything.” The breeze off the lake raised gooseflesh on her arms.

He reached down and grabbed her hoodie. After shaking the sand out, he tossed it at her. “Get your stuff, let’s walk. By God, you’re going to tell me
all
of it.”

Carrie zipped on her sweatshirt and then picked up her belongings. “You want lunch?” She slung the canvas tote over her shoulder.

“Lunch?” He stared at her aghast. “Are you kidding? I want to see my son. Where is he?”

“He’s away for the summer.” Brushing the sand off the back of her shorts, she started down the beach at a brisk pace.

He followed, jogging alongside her on the hard-packed sand. “Where is he?” Suspicion darkened his eyes. “Are you hiding him from me?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Liam.” When she stopped short, he almost ran into her. “I didn’t even know you were going to be here, how could I be
hiding
him from you?”