Dating a Single Dad (19 page)

Taylor had been right all along. She didn’t love Ian the way she should. That damned sicko Cupid had won again. It was time to accept what had happened and move on.

But hell and damnation, she was so sick of that little so-called god messing up the lives of people she loved.

“Tay, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m glad.”

“You’re
what?
”

“I mean, I’m not happy about any of this. Every time I think of Ian, of Carter, of all of it, it’s like someone reached inside me and shoved glass into my heart, you know?” She clutched herself again, bringing a tightness to Brynn’s throat. “But even with all that hurt, there’s this stupid happiness. Because he loves me. It’s the most horrible mess I could ever imagine and it hurts so much I want to...I don’t know... But there in the middle of it is the fact that he loves me. And that makes the hurt worth it. Because knowing that if things were different... You don’t know what kind of joy that gives me.”

Love that could go nowhere, but still gave joy? Oh, yeah. That made perfect sense.

Yet even as she tried to scoff, she remembered the moment in the shower with Hank when the hot and heavy was behind them and the water had beat down on them and she had stood for a minute. Not moving. Not doing. Just being. It had passed almost as fast as it had come, replaced by a joke about aching muscles and a quick kiss and the reluctant need to get going. But for that one moment, she had been so...well...happy. Completely, undeniably happy. Not because her world had been rocked to the rafters, but because she was with Hank, and he was holding her, and that had been everything she needed.

Not that she was in love. Good Lord, not that. Hers was a simple case of lust mixed with friendship and a healthy dose of laughter. The perfect combination for some springtime fun, and thank God for that.

So why was it that seeing Taylor glowing through her tears left Brynn almost jealous?

“What happens now?”

Taylor stared through the windshield. “We do exactly what we have to do. When Ian comes back, we get through the festival, I tell him I’m not in love with him, I leave.”

“And Carter?”

The words were barely audible. “Will stay.”

Brynn’s eyes filled with the tears Taylor seemed determined to hold back. Of course. This was the only path they could pursue.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Remember when we first started this and I said you might need to take over my job for a while after I leave?”

“I—” The agreement died on her lips as the implications hit her. Yes, she had promised to do that. But that was when she truly believed that Taylor loved Ian, before she knew the Norths, before she knew Hank. Before she understood that her promise meant that—if Moxie and the others agreed to let her fill in as needed—she would be spending the weeks until cousin Paige went on maternity leave at Northstar while everyone around her knew that she had been party to this.

She would be a walking reminder of all the hurt that had come to the family, and that was even without Carter’s role being made public. They would dread the very sight of her.

And Hank—Hank would probably think she had been lying all along.

“Brynn? You promised.”

Fake it ’til you make it, Brynn.

“Of course, hon. If they want me to fill in, of course I will. As long as I can.”

“Thanks.” Taylor pressed her fingers to her eyes, but when she spoke, her voice was almost frightening in its steadiness. “Most of all, I need you to promise you’ll help him.”

“Who, Ian?”

“No. I mean, yes, of course, but his whole family will be in his corner. They’ll get him through this. But Carter—” her voice caught on a sob “—he won’t have anyone he can talk to. Except you. He knows that you know. Everyone will be so focused on Ian, and that’s fine, but no one will have any idea that Carter...”

With that, Taylor finally broke.

Brynn reached across the console to pull Taylor close and rubbed her back, promising that she would help Taylor, help Carter, help all of them.

Even if she had absolutely no reason to believe there was any way anyone was going to get through this without a broken heart.

CHAPTER TWELVE

H
ANK
WASN
’
T
SURE
when he had started to look forward to the dance rehearsals. Maybe right after he realized that it meant watching Brynn shake assorted parts of that body in different and enticing rhythms. Maybe it had happened last week, when Millie snatched the ever-present blue notebook away from Brynn and led her on a giggling, shrieking chase through the halls that led to a giant family game of tag.

Or maybe it had been a couple of weeks ago when he realized he had stopped worrying about the steps and the audience and the past, and was simply enjoying the moment. Yeah, that had been a breathtaker, all right.

Whatever the reason, the truth was, he kind of liked it now. The dancing. The laughter. The feeling that he was part of his family again. Not that he had ever stopped, of course. But when they were moving through the sequence, each in their own spot but still together, it was easier to think that maybe he had found his place. Maybe he could figure out how to be part of them without always feeling like he was a step behind.

He would never have believed it, and there was no way in hell he would ever admit it, but he was glad Brynn had guilted him into dancing.

The weekly planning meetings, however, were still a pain in the ass. Especially this morning, when ten-fifteen rolled around with no sign of Carter.

“Must be getting reacquainted with Jenny in Accounting,” said Cash, leading to assorted snickers around the table.

Ma rolled her eyes. “He’s probably still on Calgary time.”

Moxie snorted. “Not that one. He bounces back faster than spandex on a porn star. Nope. It’s gotta be something else.”

Huh. The last time Moxie had made excuses for Carter she’d been covering for him while he negotiated the last-minute purchase of the Brockville plant.

“Well,” Brynn said, “he’s not the only one who has to adjust.” She glanced at Taylor, who looked like she was ready to slide into a puddle at any moment. No spandex there, that was for sure.

As if to prove how out of sorts she was, instead of being pleased by Brynn’s comment, Taylor pressed her lips together and frowned. Like she was...angry? With Brynn?

Oh, geez. If this was because he’d kept Brynn from being on time at the airport, he was going to have some fast talking ahead of him, for sure.

Thinking back to how he’d made her late, though—yeah. Any groveling would be well worth it.

“I’ll call him,” Cash said, but just as he reached for his phone, Carter stomped into the room, dropped his laptop on the table with a thud that made Moxie wince and yanked his chair out.

“Son of a—” Cash clamped his mouth closed and glared.

“What?” If Carter made the word any sharper, it could have pierced ears.

“Take it easy. You slammed your chair into my knee.”

Carter shrugged. “You’ve been crowding my space since before we were born. Not my fault you’re a slow learner.”

“That’s enough.” Ma pointed at the twins. “Carter, you are late and obnoxious. Get a grip.”

“Give it up, Ma. There’s no laundry room here.”

“Carter Wilfred North—” Dad began, but Brynn placed a light hand on his shoulder.

“Carter, you’ve had a busy few days. Do you need to skip the meeting this morning?”

He scowled. “No.”

“Well, then, we’re glad you could make it. Please don’t do anything to make us change that opinion.”

Hank tried but couldn’t completely repress his snort. Carter sat up straighter and glowered. Hank met his gaze, only to be distracted by something smacking into his ankle. Since he was sitting beside his mother, he had a pretty good idea of both the source of the smack and the message behind it.

Fine. He could take the high road.

Besides, if he stepped back, that gave Brynn more freedom to take Carter down herself—something which she could do ten times better than he had ever managed.

“Let’s get started.” Brynn put on her glasses. “Reports?”

As each North brought the rest of the family up to date, Hank alternated between taking notes and sneaking peeks at Carter. He certainly wasn’t channeling his usual smooth legal-eagle self and Hank could almost see the waves of anger rolling off of him. He didn’t know what had Carter so pissed at the world, but he sure as hell wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of it.

“I’ve finalized the schedule for folks to move into place at the cabins,” Brynn said, flashing it on the screen. “I’ll send it out after the meeting. Hank, yours has more details than this but I’m sure there will still be questions. Let me know what I might have forgotten and I’ll make sure you get the answers.”

He nodded and pushed down the panic that reared up when he thought of how much still lay ahead of him. He had committed to this. He would make it happen.

“That’s everything for this week.” Brynn set her pen back on the table. Did she even know she always grabbed a pen when she had to talk? “Things are falling into place nicely, folks. This is going to be—”

“Hang on there, Brynn. We’re not done yet.” Moxie leaned forward. “I have an idea.”

Hank shot a quick glance at the clock, noted the time and stifled a sigh. Moxie was going to eat a major chunk of his day; he could guarantee it.

“We have lots of good things planned but I want to add something. Stop shaking your head, Cash, it won’t cost a lot of money.” Moxie sighed. “You people have no faith.”

“What were you thinking, Mrs.— Moxie?”

“Well. We’re talking a lot about the history and the community and all that, but I was thinking we need more of a human touch. So I thought back to when I was a girl. Our ice-cream bar in town has always been a place for folks to get together. I think we need to have folks send in pictures of themselves from times they’ve been there. Soccer teams and birthday parties and such. Maybe have them give us stories of how the dairy has been part of their life.” She shook her head and chuckled. “When I think of all the first dates that have happened there over the years...”

“Oh.” Brynn sat back. “Well. That’s, um, yes. We could put together panels of photos and stories. I like it.”

So did Hank. But he couldn’t help noticing that Brynn’s scrunched-up expression lacked excitement.

“We could do it by decades,” Ma suggested, but Moxie waved the suggestion away.

“Nah. That’ll be like everything else we’re doing. Let’s do this one by theme. You know. The teams, the parties, the sweethearts. Haven’t we had a couple of proposals there, too? I think we need to—”

She was interrupted by the crash of Carter’s chair hitting the ground. All eyes turned to Carter, who gripped the edge of the table as if it were the only thing keeping him upright.

“Carter?” Janice rose halfway from her chair, but he shook his head and stepped back.

“Sorry. I’d better—” He clapped his hand over his mouth and sprinted out of the room.

“Oh, dear.” Janice sank back into her chair before focusing on Taylor. “Was there a bug going around at the conference?”

“I don’t—” Taylor bit her lip, shook her head then stopped. “Maybe.”

“Well, hell. He breathed on all of us, too. Everyone go home and eat chicken soup.” Moxie sounded mighty damned excited for someone offering up a gloom-and-doom prediction.

“Cash, go check on your brother,” Janice said.

“Right. We’re finished here.” Brynn seemed distracted. “Moxie, could you email me the details of your idea? I think we could do something with it.”

She scribbled something on her notepad. Chairs scraped and there were a couple of laughs as everyone gathered their things. They were all so busy that he was probably the only one watching Brynn as she looked at Moxie with narrowed eyes. Almost as if she were trying to read her mind.

* * *

T
MINUS
17
DAYS
.

The permanent countdown in Brynn’s head had started inching up in volume as they drew closer to the festival. Every sign of spring—the first shy crocus peeking through the last snow, the day she saw the faint green shimmer on the trees that meant the leaves were budding, the morning she stepped outside and then tossed her jacket back in the cabin because she was too warm—all of these usually welcome moments had been a mixed blessing this year. At first, each one reminded her that the festival was drawing closer and the time for getting through her ever-growing list of tasks was shrinking before her eyes.

Then each sign was a jab to her bubble of happiness, a whisper that soon she would be leaving—something that usually didn’t bother her, but this time around was proving more difficult than she’d expected. Maybe because she loved the work. Maybe because she had family here.

Maybe because laughing with Hank made her feel like she wanted to grab the moment and freeze it.

And now, ah, now. Here it was, almost May, and all she could think was that they were mere days away from a season colder than the cruelest winter. In seventeen days they would begin the festival, in nineteen days it would be over, and in three weeks Taylor would be gone and Ian and Carter would be nursing broken hearts and Hank—

Hank probably wouldn’t be laughing with her anymore.

Scowling at the robins hopping around the trees that circled the Northstar parking lot, Brynn shoved sunglasses on her face and headed for her car. She’d spent the morning alternating between festival calls and Taylor pep talks, and all she wanted was to drive to the river, sit on the shore and eat her sandwich. Alone.

And maybe come up with a way to postpone the festival a few weeks so she wouldn’t have to be permanently alone quite so soon.

Of course, she’d no sooner hit the pavement than Moxie pulled into the lot and waved at her. Damnation! She’d been so close to escaping. Instead, here she stood, waiting while Moxie unfolded herself from her vintage MG.

“Oh, mother of spawn, that sucker gets closer to the ground every time I have to get out of it.” Moxie put a hand to her back and straightened. “Don’t get old, Brynn. Death is a hell of a lot easier on the vertebrae. Now, tell me, where are you headed?”

At least the minutes spent waiting for Moxie to get herself upright had given Brynn time to create a good cover story. She had a feeling that if she told the truth, Moxie would want to come along. “I’m going to Town Hall to make sure all the permits are in order.” Not a total lie. She had already planned to do that on her way back.

“Good thought. Are you counting the days until it’s over? Or are you down to hours yet?”

“Um...minutes, maybe. At least, I know I would like a lot more of them.”

Moxie let loose with her trademark barking laugh. “Get used to it, sweetie. That’s a feeling you’ll have more and more as you age. But listen.” In a flash she had flipped back to being Maxine North, CEO. “I know your contract is only through the festival, but I’ve said it before—you have a good head on your shoulders. We need your kind of smarts around here. Is there any way we can convince you to stay on when this job is done?”

It felt like the pavement jumped up to smash Brynn’s stomach. “I... Sorry...what?”

“Carter said something to me a while back, and I’ve been thinking it over. There’s always projects popping up, good things, great opportunities, but we have to foist them off on someone who might not be the right person, because they have the job that’s the best fit. Or they’re new and have the most time on their hands. Whatever.” She swatted at a kamikaze fly. “It’s not the best way to handle it. I’m thinking we need someone to take them over, be the grand poo-bah of special projects, and I think you’re just the gal for it. You interested?”

Interested
wasn’t the word. It was the kind of job Brynn lusted after, the kind that would keep her always hopping, always learning.

And she couldn’t take it.

“Oh, Mrs. Nor— Moxie,” she amended quickly as she caught the beginnings of a glare. “You don’t know how much I wish I could say yes. But I... It’s not possible. I have...I have other commitments.”

“Humph.” Moxie eyed her with far too much insight. Brynn had to force herself to stand still. “You’re not playing hard-to-get, are you?”

“I’m not that good an actress. Seriously, if I could do it, I would probably embarrass myself by kissing your feet or something. But I...I just can’t.”

“You have something else lined up?”

Thank God for Paige.

“More like family obligations.”

“Ah.” Moxie stared for a moment or two, just long enough that Brynn felt like she was going through an airport scanner. She shook her head and sighed.

“You know that family obligations are the one thing I can’t interfere with, don’t you?”

Brynn nodded.

“From what I’ve been told, you’ve had a lot of those over your lifetime.”

What? Who told her that?

“No more than anyone else, I would imagine.” Brynn squared her shoulders. “And I have always been...grateful...for the ability to help.”

“Really.”

“Really.”

Moxie’s gaze sharpened, then abruptly softened. “Well then. Guess it’s our loss.”

“Actually, it’s mine. But that’s, you know...life.” Before she could think about the many ways she would like to change life at the moment, she faked a smile.

Accept what’s happened and move on.

Fake it ’til you make it.

Funny how her trusty mantras weren’t giving her nearly as much comfort as usual.

“Thank you for the offer. It means more than you know. But right now, I’m still part of Northstar, so I’d better get back to work.”

Moxie nodded. “Go on, then. But if things change, speak up. The job is yours if you want it.”

“Thank you.”

Brynn hurried to her car, slammed the door and stared up at the roof.

“You know,” she said to whoever might be listening, “we need to have a little chat about overkill.”

* * *

H
ANK
KNEW
THERE
was trouble the minute he walked into Millie’s after-school program and spotted her drawing multicolored frowny faces on a dry-erase board.