A Place with Briar (Harlequin Superromance) (14 page)

Desperate to fill the lull between them, he broached the subject of the day’s events. He’d have to stick to the fine points...but she deserved an explanation.

“I don’t want you to think I abandoned my son,” he told her. “I wanted
—want—
him with everything in me. When my ex, Tiffany, came to me for a divorce, I made it clear that I would see her in court for joint custody. That’s when she began throwing accusations around. She told everyone that I’d been beating her for years. I think only her family believed her at first, but then she brought Gavin into it.”

Her mouth dropped open in horror. “Your son?”

“She made him testify against me. That’s all it took for the jury to grant her full custody. Since then, I feel like I’ve been everywhere and nowhere. I don’t know where I’ll end up or if I can ever try to put down roots of any kind again. Tiffany cut me off at the stump—without him, starting over feels impossible.”

“How old is he?”

He swallowed. “He’s six. He hates math, loves to draw and plays soccer in the spring and fall.”

“You’re a soccer dad.”

Though the ache in him swelled, he smiled. “I never missed a game.”

“You wouldn’t.” Her hand draped warm over his. “What she did...what I’m guessing she’s still doing is too terrible for words. Why do people act out against the people who love them?”

“We’d been slipping into the cracks for a few years,” he admitted. “At first, we both did our best to shield Gavin. But then she started seeing other people.”

“Oh, Cole.”

“I fell out of love with her a long time ago,” he explained. “It’s funny how you think you know someone. But then you live with them, start to peel away the layers beneath the surface that you didn’t notice before—or maybe chose to ignore. I knew all along she could be selfish, but I was so determined to make it work that I convinced myself I could live with it. Until things changed.”

“I wish I could meet Gavin.”

He laughed. “Your cinnamon rolls would win him over in a heartbeat.”

“He looks so much like you. She has to live with that every day.”

“I hope she doesn’t use it against him.”

“You should’ve told me all this before,” she told him. “I’m sorry I acted the way I did earlier. I was just so shocked.”

“I wish I
had
told you sooner,” he said. He realized he meant it.

“Will you ever try to get him back?”

“Yes. I’d do anything to have him back.”

“You’re a good father.”

A part of him had needed that reassurance. Coming from her, he knew it was absolutely pure. Another part of him, a greater part, churned with renewed guilt. What would Briar do if she knew he’d chosen Gavin over her already?

“I understand,” she said quietly. “I may not be a parent, but I do understand, more than anything, what it’s like to lose something...to be willing to go to the moon and back to retrieve it.”

“I know you do,” he murmured. His hand tightened around her, refusing to loosen his grip even as he contemplated how hurt she would be by the end of all this if he got Tiffany what she needed. Torn, he turned his face into her hair and breathed her in.

She smelled like home.

Her brow creased as she looked down at her hands. “For a long time, I’ve thought my life would be different than this.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, trying to read her face.

“Up until I began applying for college, I wanted to be just like my mother. I wanted to run the family business, take care of guests, plant a garden, start a family. But my father wanted me to follow in his footsteps and I didn’t know how to say no. So I went off to law school. I was six weeks away from graduating when I decided to take a sabbatical and follow a group of friends to Paris.”

The creases in her brow deepened and she reached up to rub the furrows with her fingertips. “I knew enough French to get a job, and I was able to extend my stay. That’s when I fell in love with cooking. For the first time, I knew what it was I wanted for myself. So I applied for cooking school.”

Cole thought of the man who had come to visit Briar not too long ago and the dismal mood he’d left behind. “I can’t imagine your father was pleased.”

She let out a mirthless laugh. “That’s putting it mildly. He flew to France to drag me back home, but there was nothing he or anyone else could do at that point to stop me from pursuing my dreams. I’d stopped living off his means and was making my own way for once. I lived in a tiny flat with hardly any hot water. The walls were mostly windows so it was hot in the summer and freezing in the winter. But I loved every moment. I was in my second semester of culinary school when I met Jean-Luc.”

He frowned. “A man.”

The corner of her lip quirked up as she glanced at him. “This is Paris we’re talking about. It was spring. Falling in love was only natural. Is it so surprising that I would?”

“No,” he said, realizing how selfish it was to think that he was the only man who had ever been in her life. Especially when he pictured Briar—a younger, dreamier version of her—in Paris, a smile on her face as well as her heart. No, it wasn’t at all surprising that she’d found love in that romantic place where so many people had found it before her. He had no reason to be bitter toward the man so he asked, “What was he like?”

She let out a small sigh, wistful and a bit foretelling. “He was extremely charming. All my American friends and family thought he was too old for me. I never really knew how old he was. His hairline wasn’t receding, but there were sprits of gray at the temples, and there always seemed to be laughter in his eyes. He made me feel for the first time in my life like I didn’t have a care in the world. Up until then, I’d been afraid of the world—of living, even—but with him I began to see it in a different light. And I thought we would forge our way into that bright, sweet light together.”

On the last few words, all the hope and bright prospects of the young woman she had been then seemed to crinkle and fade from her expression like leaves at the brink of winter. Perhaps there
was
a reason to hate the man who’d stolen Briar’s heart.... “What happened?”

She stared at the floor, expression wiped clean of emotion. Clearly, she had relived the experience enough times in her mind over the years that the memories didn’t have the bite they once had. She spoke from an objective slant. “One morning I woke up and all my valuables and what little money I had saved was gone. If not for the missing items, I might’ve been able to convince myself that he’d never been there. It was ridiculous of me not to question how quickly our relationship progressed, but I was so caught up in the glorious swing of things. The best I can say about him now is that he was an incredible actor...or at least I hope he was.”

Snorting out a laugh, she lifted her hands and shoulders in a helpless shrug. “I have to believe that because if I don’t the alternative is that I was just blind and stupid.
L’amour est aveugle,
I suppose.” At his lifted brow, she translated, “Love is blind.”

The bitterness he had initially felt toward Jean-Luc had been right on target. However, it tasted too much like the bitterness he felt toward himself. Hadn’t he conned Briar into believing that he was just a guest here at Hanna’s? And hadn’t he used the attraction he felt between them to his advantage?

“You weren’t stupid,” Cole told her. “You were hopeful. In life, most people start out that way. Until someone comes along and makes you believe the world’s a lot dirtier and edgier than you thought it was.” He squeezed her shoulder.

“Anyway, my love-spun dreams of French life and becoming this century’s Julia Child were pretty well dashed,” she admitted. “I no longer had the tuition money for culinary school, and I was hardly scholarship material. So I limped back home. My father made sure I realized how deeply I’d let him down. I still haven’t lived down my so-called failures in Paris as far as he’s concerned. But my mother took a stand. She offered to give me the tuition money for another culinary school in Atlanta, but my father was determined to see me back in law school. I’d never seen them so divided before. And by choosing to go to Georgia and continue pursuit of my dreams, I drove the final rift between them that lasted until the day she died.”

“Your father sounds like a stubborn ass.
That’s
what drove the rift between your parents, not you.”

“Whatever it was, her cancer might not have progressed as quickly if I’d been here to share the load of the inn.”

“I bet you made her happy by doing what you wanted to do.” He thought about Gavin—that was what he hoped for him one day.

Her smile was short but true. “I hope so. It was what she wanted at the time. As soon as I heard that she was sick, though, I dropped out and came back home. I did my best to make her comfortable—that was all there was left to do at that point. And I could see what a relief it was to her that I was capable of taking Hanna’s as my own. That was her dream, for me to take over from her one day.” Briar hesitated, frowning over her next words, then said what had obviously been weighing on her for some time. “I still think of it all as hers—not mine. As much as I
had
wanted Hanna’s Inn, I don’t know if I still do.”

Cole nodded. “If you had the choice...” He felt her brace and rubbed her arm to ease her. “Put aside your parents’ expectations, your mom’s legacy... Would you go back to culinary school or stay here?”

She shook her head, lifting an empty hand. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want anymore.” Glancing at him, she asked, “What about you? If you had your son, and your ex-wife was out of the picture, where would you go? What would you do?”

He hadn’t thought that far ahead. Her question opened up a world of possibilities that seemed too risky to explore.

Mostly because one of those possibilities was staring him right in the face in the form of Briar Browning herself.

Who was he kidding? After all this was said and done, even if Tiffany kept her word and let him have time with Gavin, Briar wouldn’t be part of the picture. The light of hope still shined in her eyes, despite all she had been through. It was faded—perhaps a bit jaded—but there. It took everything in him not to reach out and grasp it...because he would be the one to destroy that light. He had already set things in motion to ensure that what dreams Briar had would be dashed all over again.

“I...” He cleared his throat, looked away from her. “I don’t know.”

The words hung heavy between them in the thick, humid air until the sound of hail and a gust of wind made the aged walls of the inn emit a pained groan. “It’s coming ashore,” she whispered.

He shifted carefully. “We should try and get some sleep.”

Briar wrapped her arm over his waist as her head fell against his shoulder. Their legs tangled together as the silence drifted once again and the storm rattled the walls around them.

CHAPTER TWELVE

B
Y
MORNING
,
Brett hobbled north, drenching the Eastern Shore in ten inches of salty rain.

Briar walked out to gauge the destruction in a hooded coat and rain boots. The vegetables were gone. She’d known they were doomed the night before when she’d discovered the heavy arm of the tree that had toppled over the garden patch and clawed its way through the porch roof. Damp leaves covered the lawn in a dying carpet. The jasmine and annuals had suffered, but other than that, damage to the inn and the shops was minimal.

Just after noon, the last of the rain bands gave way to blue sky and hot sun. Without power and climate control, the day became oppressive.

An eerie calm always followed hurricanes. The system inhaled every breeze within hundreds of miles around its tunneling ranks, dragging them along for the ride. Though the pressure of the air lifted, without a stir, misery became the order of the day.

As soon as the gray shroud lifted, though, all four ladies of Hanna’s, Flora, Tavern of the Graces and Belle Brides went to work, with Cole helping take down the storm shutters. Sweat trickled down Cole’s bare back as he sawed fallen limbs into transferable pieces then hauled or rolled each of them to the street for pickup.

Briar swept the porch and gathered the leaves into garbage bags. She trimmed back the jasmine and pulled up drowned petunias. Thankfully, she managed to harvest all the daffodil bulbs—they could be replanted in dryer conditions.

The vegetables, on the other hand, were ruined. Everything had crumbled and lay flattened under the tarp Cole and his chainsaw finally uncovered. She mourned the squash, peppers and the big round tomatoes she and her mother had planted together. Digging up dead stalks and vines, she stuffed them, too, in garbage bags and took them to the street.

Afterward, she went into the muggy inn, putting the portable fans to work in the kitchen as she squeezed lemons and tried to take her mind off the loss. She was lucky—they were all lucky. It could have been worse. No use mourning and brooding when there was so much more to be done.

Through the open windows and the screen door, she heard the thwack of a hammer high above. After finding an extension ladder, Cole had offered to check for structural damage and replace the shingles that had been blown off.

She prayed there was no roof damage. Already, she had to get the porch to rights. She’d have to hire someone, of course. Construction was about as good for business as tropical storms.

A porch could be fixed quickly, though. An entire roof? She’d have to shut the inn down for a couple of weeks at least.

By the time she finished making lemonade, Cole was climbing down the ladder, hammer hooked through his belt loop. She carried out a tray full of finger sandwiches and the lemonade jug with two ice-filled glasses. A fine sheen of sweat coated every inch of his skin. His hair was slicked back from his beaded brow. His shorts were dirty. Specks of mud and dirt dotted his chest and shoulders.

She set the tray on the porch rail and filled him a glass, trying hard not to stare. “Starving?”

“Hot,” he muttered, tipping the glass back and gulping its contents all but for the cubes of ice. He pressed the cool surface to the side of his face and closed his eyes. “No damage as far as I can tell.”

She sighed. “That’s a relief.”

“Thanks,” he said when she handed him a sandwich.

“You should sit,” she said, gesturing to one of the porch rockers. “You’ve been working for hours.”

Without argument, he dropped onto the nearest cushion and downed his sandwich in three bites. Sitting next to him, she gave him a few more and shoveled down one herself. Brushing crumbs from her shirt, she said, “I hope you don’t mind. I invited the girls over for dinner. Kyle, too—Adrian’s son.”

“Sounds like a party,” he said. “Am I invited?”

“After all you’ve done today, you can be the guest of honor.”

“I hope I get to shower first,” he told her, glancing over his arms and chest. “Some guest of honor I’d make as is.”

“Liv talked to the power company. They’re slowly getting everyone back online. It’ll be several more hours, I’m sure. But you can shower, if you don’t mind cold water.”

“A cold shower sounds great,” he said, leaning back in the rocker.

She tried not to think about him under the running water. Even more bare than he was now. She certainly wouldn’t mind being the one to lather his skin in soap and wash the grime of work away.

Must be the heat.
She could all but feel his slick skin beneath her hands.... She refocused her attention on the naked grove where the vegetables had been.

“You couldn’t save any of them?” Cole asked.

She shook her head. “They were too far gone.”

“Will you start over?”

An icy chill rippled through her, panic on its heels. She thought of all there was to do with what little she had. When it came time to replant, would Hanna’s even be here anymore? Would she?

“I don’t know,” she whispered. Because she suddenly couldn’t breathe, she stood and gathered the napkins and glasses. “I’ll make some more lemonade.”

“Three glasses were enough.” Before she could veer past him, he reached out and touched her arm. “The vegetables can be replanted. I’m just glad you’re still here.”

Looking into his face, she felt every hour she hadn’t slept wash away and every worry on her mind sink to the backburner. Though worrying and planning would probably be smarter, the escape of him was too irresistible.

He’d stayed. Through the storm, through the unease between them, he not only stayed with her—he comforted her. He stood as a buffer between her and the storm.

And she was dangerously close to relying on his shoulder.

She let her fingers fall against his, linking them for a moment before she wordlessly walked to the screen door.

* * *

V
OICES
CLAMORED
THROUGH
the inn, filling it with life and warming Briar’s heart. All the more because they were the voices of the people she loved most.

Olivia lifted her tea glass as they settled around the dining room table. “A toast?”

As the others mirrored the move, Briar frowned. “If I’d known we would be toasting, I’d have taken down champagne and flutes.”

“Oh, hush,” Olivia chided through a beaming smile. “A toast to Cole.”

“Me?” he asked, puzzled.

“Yeah, you,” she said as the others fell silent. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a decent man around here to help. Thank you for all you did to get this place halfway back to rights and asking nothing in return.”

“Cheers to that,” Adrian echoed, shooting Briar a look over the rim of her glass. After sipping, she set it aside and reached for the nearest bowl—leftover potato salad. “This looks wonderful, Briar.”

“I’ll say,” Roxie cheered as dressed down as any of them had seen her to date in blue-jean cutoffs, a thin, sleeveless, button-up blouse and a bright bandana tied around her head. “It definitely beats another night of Jell-O and bananas.”

“I love Jell-O,” Kyle piped up, mouth already full of potato salad.

“This is hardly a scale up,” Briar muttered. “I just pulled it out of the fridge.”

“You really need to learn how to take a compliment, Briar,” Roxie advised.

Olivia groaned. “That’s the understatement of the century.”

“It is good,” Cole added, lifting his eyes to hers.

She smiled, feeling warmed again at his praise. “Thank you.” Shifting her gaze to the others, she saw the winged looks shooting between them. Reaching for another bowl, she lifted the spoon. “Here, Kyle. You need green beans.”

“Blah.” When Adrian nudged him with a telling elbow, he straightened, pouting. “Fine. I’ll eat them.”

“Just a few,” Briar promised, spooning them onto his plate. “Did you enjoy the storm?”

“Oh, yeah. It sounded like
Twister.
You know, the movie
Twister?
”

“I think I’ve seen it. I bet you’re ready for school to start back up.”

“Double blah.”

Cole chuckled. “Typical boy.”

Adrian rolled her eyes. “Let me tell you. In a perfect world, summer would last forever.”

“If only,” Kyle grumbled. Looking to Cole, his freckle-dotted expression lightened several degrees. “Were you really a cop?”

Alarmed, Briar looked to Cole to gauge his reaction. His smile didn’t waver. “A detective, actually.”

“Like
CSI?
”

“Not quite. I worked in Narcotics. Do you know what that is?”

“The drug guys came to our school last year,” Kyle admitted, nodding sagely. “They brought the dogs. They were pretty cool. Did you ever work with canines?”

“Sure,” he replied. “Plenty of times.”

“What about undercover?”

“I did a bit of undercover work,” he said with a laugh at Kyle’s undeniable curiosity. “It’s probably not as cool as what you see on TV, though.”

“Did you ever shoot anybody?”

“All right, that’s enough,” Adrian warned. “Eat your greens.”

“I was just asking.”

“It’s okay,” Cole assured her. “It’s the question kids ask the most these days.”

“It’s all violence for them,” Olivia noted.

Adrian slanted her a scrutinizing look. “Didn’t you tell me once that John McClane is your idea of the perfect mate?”

“I’m a grown-up,” Olivia retorted, stuffing half a buttered roll into her mouth. “With needs.”

“And video games,” Briar intervened, sensing that the conversation was headed south. “Kids are so into video games.”

“The Kinect is my favorite gaming system,” Kyle told them. He turned to Cole again. “Have you ever played?”

“No, can’t say I have,” Cole admitted.

“Maybe you could come over sometime. I’ll take it easy on you, at first.”

Adrian sighed. “Mr. Savitt has more important things to do than duel controllers with you. If you’re not going to eat the rest of that, why don’t you take it to the kitchen?”

“I’ll take it,” Briar said, scooting her chair back.

Kyle was already on his feet. “I’ve got it. Is there any ice cream, Briar?”

She beamed, settling back into the chair. “You know there is. It’s homemade, too, just the way you like it. Want me to get it for you?”

“I know where it is,” he said, carrying his plate through the swinging door and flashing Briar a grin.

“Bowls are in the second cupboard.” She shook her head and looked to Adrian. “He’s growing so fast. How do you not just weep over him?”

“I have my moments,” she admitted. “He’s only being chivalrous because he still has a mad crush on you. And Cole, please forgive him. He’s desperate for another Y chromosome around here. It’s from growing up without a real father figure.”

“It doesn’t bother me at all,” he told her. “He seems like a good kid.”

“Father figure or no, it looks like you’re doing a spectacular job,” Roxie agreed. “He’s wonderful.”

“Thank you,” Adrian said, glowing a bit. “I like to think he’s mostly me.”

“I wish you’d bring him over more often,” Briar told her. “Would anyone else like ice cream?”

“I’m stuffed,” Olivia said. She held up a halting hand when Briar began to rise again. “No, no, you sit. You’ve fed us. We do the dishes. Fair trade.”

“Don’t be silly. This is my home.”

“And we’re all family,” Olivia argued. “There’ll be no waiting on us, at least until the air-conditioning’s back on.”

Resigned, Briar sank back down. “Whatever you say, Liv.”

Olivia dropped a kiss to her head. “That’s right, cuz.” She winked at Cole as she carried her dishes out. “Whatever I say.”

It didn’t take long after dishes were dry and put away for Olivia to pull Briar aside. The others said their good-nights to Cole, distracting him long enough for her to ask, “Did you pounce him?”

Briar blew out a laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous—”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute. You were stuck together all night long in an empty house with half a dozen beds and
nothing happened?
”

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s not like that?”

“No, no, no!” Olivia squealed, raising both hands to halt the rational explanation. “For heaven’s sake, Briar! Didn’t you see the way he was looking at you over dinner? He’s all over you. Like something warm and gooey.”

Briar winced. “That’s so not sexy.”

“So
you
say. Stop using your head and start thinking with that thing the rest of us recognize as our libido!”

“Now you’re just being crude.”

Olivia gripped her arm. “It’s obvious that he wants you. And you need this. Admit it.”

Nerves began to shred her composure. “I guess I could go upstairs and change really quick.”

“When I leave with the girls, I’ll tell him that you need him for...I don’t know...some fixer-upper emergency,” Olivia contemplated. “He’ll haul ass upstairs to the rescue. You’ll open the door looking all sexified and voilà.” Olivia folded her arms, looking very satisfied with her new plan. “What do you think?”

Briar gaped at her. “He’s seen me under the sink with tools. You really think he’s going to fall for that?” Better yet, did she really think she wouldn’t chicken out before he got halfway up the stairs to
help?

Olivia grinned. “I doubt he’ll be thinking about anything but what you two will be doing later.” She gave Briar a push. “Now go.”

“But what if he—”

“No,” Olivia intervened, raising her hands and backing away. “Don’t think. Just go. Be a temptress.”

In her T-shirt and shorts, she hardly fit the bill. As she turned and numbly climbed the stairs, she fought to get back her vital hold on composure. But now that she knew there was a possibility she could be...well,
not sleeping
in a matter of minutes, it made her nerves recharge.

Closing her eyes, she stopped to catch her breath and steady herself on the landing. Cole’s face instantly filled her thoughts. Over dinner, he’d been quicker to smile. The grin had complemented his narrow face so well. The creases were wearing into the corners of his eyes again. A shadow of stubble had cloaked the lower half of his face. He was more a man than anyone else she’d known before him.