Simply Irresistible (32 page)

M
addie sat on the dock at the marina, each exhalation a little white cloud in front of her face as she watched the sun make
its route across a quiet sky. Behind her was the burned-out shell of her dream. In front of her, the Pacific Ocean was rough
and churning this morning, matching the pitch in her stomach.

She dropped her head to her bent knees and squeezed her eyes shut. She’d just left the hospital. She was supposedly grabbing
breakfast for her sisters and then going back to pick them up. But she needed a moment to herself, so she’d come here first.
She felt empty and exhausted and defeated.

And sad.

So damn sad. It wasn’t the loss of the cottage or her things. She’d survived far worse.

Jax loved her. Her. He wanted her to make a stand. Take what she wanted.

But it wasn’t that easy, not for her.

It could be,
said a little voice. Angrily, she swiped at a tear, then went still when she heard footsteps. Someone steady on their feet,
but not trying to sneak up on her.

Jax.

She felt the weight of his jacket as he wrapped it around her, surrounding her with warm leather and his scent.

Lethal combination.

He crouched at her side, eyes dark and full of so many things she couldn’t put her finger on a single one of them. His familiar
easy smile was nowhere in sight. The lines etched around his eyes and mouth spoke of exhaustion and worry.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered.

“There are some things that need to be said.”

“Jax—”

“Not by me.” He looked over his shoulder at someone and nodded.

More footsteps sounded. Tara. She walked past Jax, and the two of them exchanged a long look. Jax’s was warm and encouraging,
but Tara’s was guarded and tense, and dread filled Maddie. “What’s going on?”

Tara sat next to Maddie. She was wearing scrubs and smelled like some odd combination of hospital disinfectant and smoke,
but other than that, she appeared no worse for wear from the fire. “We need chairs out here, sugar. This is beyond undignified.”

Maddie looked at Jax, who gave her a tight smile that didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. Then he turned and walked away.
She opened her mouth, but Tara reached for her hand. “He brought me here. Said it was
time. He’s been telling me that for weeks now, but I think he’s about done with subtleties.” She sighed. “So am I.”

“Oh, God.” Maddie stared at her, afraid to breathe. “This isn’t the part where you tell me you’re sleeping with him, right?”

“Oh, Lord love a duck. No, I’m not sleeping with him—not that he isn’t one fine man. One really fine
hot
man, but honey, he’s yours. He’s been yours from day one.”

Maddie started to shake her head, but Tara squeezed her hand. “I know you’re upset with him. He was holding back information
you feel he should have shared, and you’re right. You’re one hundred percent right to believe that when you’re in love with
a man, he should definitely tell you he’s holding the note on the property that you consider your home, except—”

“Wait a minute.” Maddie could have used some oxygen from that cute EMT about now. “No one said anything about love.”

Tara rolled her eyes. “… Exceeeeept,” she said. “It wasn’t his place to tell you. He’d made a promise.”

“But—”

“I know. In a relationship, you share things, but as it turns out, he was protecting someone.” She paused, and when she spoke
again, her voice was very quiet and halting. “He was protecting someone you know.”

“Who?”

“Phoebe. And…” Tara shook her head and slumped as if the weight of the world was heavy on her back. She covered her face with
her hands. “Me. I lied to you, Maddie. From the very beginning, I lied right to your face, and then I pulled a double punch
by going to Jax and
begging him to keep his promise, to keep this from you and Chloe.” Shame laced every word that tumbled from her mouth.

Maddie stared at her, floored. “But… why?”

“Because I couldn’t handle the truth coming out, not if I had to be here again. God, it hurt to be here again, still does.”

“You couldn’t handle
what
coming out? And what do you mean ‘again’? You told me you’ve never been here before.”

“No. You assumed that.” Tara rubbed at her chest absently, as though to soothe an unrelenting ache, and cleared her throat.
“I should start at the beginning.”

“Okay.” Maddie nodded, heart pounding. “That’s a good idea.”

Tara stared out at the water. The air was heavy with sea salt and the acrid scent of burnt wood. It was chilly, but Maddie
wasn’t feeling a thing past the icy ball of hurt in her chest.

“A few years back,” Tara said. “Someone near and dear to Phoebe needed money. Phoebe didn’t have any, but she wanted to help.
She mortgaged the resort property.” Her voice seemed distant, as though she was trying to remove herself somehow from the
words she was saying.

“To Jax,” Maddie said. “He lent her the money.”

“Yes. He’d grown up here and had always been kind to her, and he’d recently come back to town and had been known for helping
out financially when anyone needed it. She needed it.”

“Why?”

Tara drew a deep breath. “I spent a summer here in Lucky Harbor when I was seventeen. My grandparents
were going on a world cruise, and my daddy was working all the time. I was a lot like Chloe back then. Wild, spoiled, unrepentant.”
She shook her head. “No one could tell me what to do, but no one was listening to me, either. I was shipped here without ceremony.
I arrived with a chip on my shoulder and a bad attitude, neither of which endeared me to any of the girls my age that were
around. There was only one person who’d talk to me, and he…” She closed her eyes. “I got pregnant that summer.”

“Oh, Tara,” Maddie whispered. “I had no idea.”

“No one did. No one knew but me and him, and Phoebe. God, it was awful. I felt… well, there’s no way to explain how I felt,
really. There’s not many missteps you can take in life that can change you the way that can.” She looked off onto the water
as if there was something only she could see, and whatever it was made her ache. “And it did change me. It never left me,”
she whispered. She shook her head as if disgusted with herself for going down that road. “We were young and stupid and immature,
and not in any position to be parents. I knew that even then.” Her eyes were haunted. Hollow.

“I went to Seattle for the pregnancy, then gave the baby up for adoption—” Her voice broke, and she shook her head again,
unable to go on.

Heart squeezing, Maddie hugged her even though they mostly showed their affection in other ways—like dying their hair green
together. “I’m so sorry. You must have been so scared.”

“Yes.” Tara sniffed and searched her pockets for a tissue, which of course, she found. “I was terrified. But I knew enough
to understand that I was just a kid. I… I did the right thing.”

“Well, of course you did.”

“I left Lucky Harbor and never looked back. I planned to never come back.”

“What about the father?”

“We never spoke again. I went on with my life,” Tara said. “Spending the next years
purposely
not thinking about it. But then…” She paused, her eyes solemn. “The baby grew up and got sick. Her heart had a faulty valve
and required surgery. There were lots of medical bills, and Phoebe—” A shaky smile crossed her lips. “While I’d been doing
my best
not
to think of what had happened, Phoebe had never
stopped
thinking about it. She found out that money was needed for medical care.”

“So she mortgaged the place to help.” Maddie shook her head. “I’d never have guessed that one. I never thought much of her
mothering skills, but no one can deny she was a genuinely good person.”

“Yeah.” Tara dabbed at her eyes. “She made the donation to the baby’s adopted family anonymously. She didn’t want the child
or her family to feel indebted.”

Maddie squeezed Tara’s hand again and smiled. “You had a girl.”

Tara’s smile was weak but proud. “A beautiful girl, and healthy now, thank God. By all accounts, she’s happy and settled,
and…” Her smile faded. “And I’m not a part of her life.”

“Are you okay with that?”

“I have to be. I chose it,” she said simply. “I chose it a long time ago, and I live with it. But Mom never really accepted
it. I think maybe she felt her own guilt, you know, because maybe she didn’t give her daughters
up, but she sure didn’t raise us. Anyway, she arranged a trust.” She held Maddie’s gaze. “She left the resort to us, but everything
liquid went to her only grandchild. She hid the details from everyone but me in order to protect all parties, but mostly to
protect me.” Tara’s eyes filled again. “I’m sorry, Maddie. I’ve been holding this in for so long, and truthfully, I would
have held it forever, except…”

“Except?”

“You,” she whispered. “You came here ready to accept what Mom wanted from us, what she hoped for. You came ready to accept
us as a family. You maxed out your credit card to improve the inn that had been mortgaged to save my daughter.” She shook
her head in marvel. “You gave this place your all, when the only thing I could think about was running like hell.” She swallowed
hard and repeated, “I’m so sorry, Maddie. I’m so very sorry.”

“No.” She wrapped her arms around Tara. “You did what you had to. I’m proud of you, Tara. So proud.”

Tara dropped her head to Maddie’s shoulder, her body shuddering as she tried to keep her pain inside. Maddie held Tara tight
and stroked her sister’s hair as she lost more than a few tears of her own.

Tara finally pulled back, carefully swiping the mascara out from beneath her eyes as she let out a shuddery breath. “Well.
That’s never pretty.”

“Feel better?”

“No, but I will. It’s Christmas, sugar. We have to get Chloe sprung from the hospital, and you have a man to forgive.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Maddie said, realizing it was true. It wasn’t about what Jax hadn’t told her. It wasn’t that
simple. “There’s nothing to forgive, but—”

“Nothing good ever comes out of a
but.
Listen, I realize I did my part in keeping you from falling for him, but I was wrong. I was acting out of my own fears and
past.”

“Yes. And now I’m acting out of mine,” Maddie admitted.

“You’re afraid of him?”

“No.” She hesitated. “Maybe. Yes. But not how you think. Dammit,” she muttered, rubbing her temples.

Opening herself up and making herself vulnerable to a man didn’t always end well, but even she knew that Jax was unlike any
man she’d ever known. He was worth it. He was worth the potential heartache, because without him she was pretty sure her heart
would cease to work anyway. “I’m not afraid of him. I’m afraid of what I feel for him—which means he was right. God, I really
hate that. I mean, how do you deal with a guy who’s always right?”

Tara laughed ruefully. “Sugar, if I knew that, I’d still be married.”

The three sisters sat at Eat Me Café, which was open for a big brunch special for Christmas. Tara was mainlining caffeine
in the form of a lethally strong coffee, and Chloe and Maddie were stuffing their faces.

Tara had made Bottom-of-the-Barrel Waffles, made with pumpkin and cinnamon and topped with lots of whipped cream. Heaven on
earth. Maddie was shoveling them in, momentarily letting her mind go blank. It might have been the sugar high. She was keeping
an eye on Chloe, as was Tara, but Chloe’s color was good and she wasn’t wheezing at all. Maddie knew Tara planned to
tell Chloe about her past. She also knew that she wasn’t eager to do so.

“We look like hell,” Chloe said, eyeing herself in the reflection of her spoon, turning her head left and right.

“At least we’re breathing,” Tara said.

And breathing was good, Maddie thought, looking at her sisters, the two women who’d been like strangers to her only a month
ago. “Last night in the terror and chaos, something became crystal clear to me,” Maddie said softly. “I love it here. And
I love you guys, too.”

Chloe slid her a long look. “I’m not sharing my waffles.”

Tara rolled her eyes and sent a small but warm smile to Maddie. “I love you, too, sugar. Both of you.”

She and Maddie both turned to Chloe, who sighed. “Well, way to make me feel like a bitch.” She kept eating, until she realized
they were still staring at her. “What, I feel it. I just can’t say it.”

“Ever?” Maddie asked.

Chloe shrugged. “Maybe I’ll work on it.”

Everyone in the café came by their table. Hell, it felt like everyone in Lucky Harbor came by, wanting to commiserate and
express their sympathies and condolences. Word spread quickly, because people were bringing them stuff—clothes, bathroom essentials—things
to get them through the next few days since everything they had was destroyed.

Afterward, Tara cleared her throat and told Chloe everything, every painful detail. It was no easier for Maddie to hear the
second time, but there were cleansing tears and a group hug.

“Wow,” Chloe kept saying. “Wow.”

“Okay, we’re going to need a new adjective,” Tara said. “That one’s getting old.”

“Well something finally makes sense to me,” Chloe said. “Mom asking me when I was going to give her
more
grandkids. I never understood that.”

“You were in regular touch with Mom?” Maddie asked.

“Well, yeah. I was her soft spot, I think. You know, because I’m so sweet and adorable.” Her mouth quirked, but she looked
a little shy about it. “I called her. I did it every week or so, just to check in from wherever I was. It seemed to mean something
to her.”

“And it meant something to you,” Tara said softly.

“It did.” Chloe nudged Tara. “And from what she told me, you were a lot like me before you grew up and got old and snooty—you
were reckless and wild.”

“Hey, I’m only eight years older than you.
Not
old.” She sighed. “But yeah, I was. Your point?”