Storm Shells (The Wishes Series #3) (26 page)

“Please, Ryan. This is important.”

Probably too exhausted to fight me, he caved in. “Fine.” He slapped his hands on his knees. “Cross my heart, hope to die, wish upon a star, whatever you need.”

“You won’t contact Adam while you’re here,” I demanded.

Far from outraged, he punched out a hard laugh. “Look, I know you and Adam are not in a good place right now – ”

“He’s trying to divorce me.”

“Trying being the operative word,” he noted. I breathed in deep, determined to keep my wits. Ryan seemed to take pity on me. “I’m not here to do my brother’s bidding, Charli,” he said, dropping the choler. “I have no interest in whether or not you play nice in your divorce. I just want you out of my business.”

Ryan leaned back, stretched out his legs and folded his arms. I hoped he wasn’t about to go to sleep. I wasn’t anywhere near finished with him.

“You promise not to call him, no matter what?”

“Yes. Do you want me to put it in writing?”

I unlocked the door and stepped out. The weary traveller didn’t move a muscle. Fearing I’d shocked him to death, I nudged his foot with mine. “Wake up,” I ordered, realising his eyes were closed.

“I’m not asleep.”

“Open your eyes then.”

Ryan cocked his head and looked up at me, squinting as if focusing took effort. His pose didn’t waver but a slow smile crept across his face. I truly had no idea which way the conversation was going to go. “Well, well, well,” he drawled, stretching out the words. “Isn’t this a game changer?”

I put my hands over my stomach as if that was all it would take to keep her out of view. “Please don’t call Adam.” I spoke in a strange tone reminiscent of someone trying to talk a jumper down from a rooftop. “I’ll let him know in plenty of time.”

My father would make sure of that.

“What are you waiting for, Charli? A sign? When the moon ducks lay their eggs at sunrise, you’ll tell him? When the pixies get permission from the high elf, you’ll tell him?”

I didn’t kick up at his stupid comment. “What’s a moon duck?”

“I have no freaking idea,” he muttered.

Ryan hoisted himself out of the chair like a tired old man, and dragged another chair across for me. We sat side by side for a long time while he processed the news.

“You stupid girl,” he finally grumbled. “The child will be taken care of, Charli. He or she is a Décarie.”

He’d announced it with the same reverence as Gabrielle. And it was just as maddening hearing it the second time around. “She’s a Blake,” I snapped. “She’s going to grow up here and be grounded and normal. She’s going to be free-range.”

“Normal?” he scoffed. “What could you possibly know about being normal? And free-range. Like the moon ducks?”

“Yes,” I replied bleakly. “I imagine moon ducks are free-range.”

“Peachy. Adam will be so proud. Décarie babies aren’t free-range, Charlotte. Their lives are privileged and structured.” Probably wishing he’d missed his flight, Ryan leaned forward, and buried his face in his hands. “You’ve created one hell of a mess.”

I let it go. This was a battle for her father, not her uncle. “What’s going to happen when he finds out?”

He lifted his head. “What do you want to happen?”

I wasn’t about to humiliate myself by telling him about the small part of my heart that was still hoping for a fairy-tale ending. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” he accused. “You want him to be thrilled by the idea of having the kid that you told him was gone, come to this godforsaken hick town, build you a picket fence and live happily ever after.”

When he stopped for breath I cut in sourly. “I didn’t ask you what you think I want.”

“Look at me, Charli.” It was a softly spoken demand – but a demand nonetheless. I did as I was told. “I’m
always
going to tell you the truth. You know that, right?”

I nodded, bracing for the very worst. His answer was going to hurt. “Adam hasn’t been coping very well. When he finds out that all the guilt has been for nothing, he’s going to be really upset. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but don’t go making picket fence plans.”

To hide the fact that he’d just delivered a perfect coup de
grâce
, I closed my eyes and settled back in my chair. The lovely warmth of the sun on my belly was a welcome distraction from the trauma shaking my already battered heart.

When Ryan finally spoke again, I realised he’d been using the time to come up with a game plan. He asked when the baby was due.

“The first of August.”

He nodded. “Hold off telling Adam a little while longer,” he suggested. “He has his exam coming up soon. Once that’s out of the way, hit him with it.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “Must not disturb the study.”

Ryan chuckled darkly. “Lighten up, fairy pants. He’s going to need to pass. He has a baby on the way.”

* * *

Ryan Décarie was not renowned for uplifting, morale-building conversations, which was fine because that wasn’t what I needed. All I wished for was direction and a clear head. Without realising it, his brand of no-nonsense straight talking had been exactly what I was looking for. I was ecstatic that he was there.

“Where are you staying?” I asked.

He didn’t open his eyes. “I’ll find a hotel.”

“Not in this town.” I snickered. “There are no hotels.”

He turned his head, glaring across at me like I’d just ruined his entire trip. “Awesome news. We really are in the boondocks, aren’t we?”

I could’ve directed him to at least ten bed-and-breakfasts, but I knew Ryan too well. As much as I’d enjoy hearing him whine about shared bathrooms and lace curtains, I couldn’t do it to him. “Stay with me,” I offered.

His eyes flitted in every direction, quickly surveying the property. “Here?” He sounded appalled.

“It’s not that bad. Just remember to keep the doors and windows closed at night so the snakes don’t get in.”

“Snakes?”

“And spiders, but we don’t need to go there,” I reached across and patted his arm. “Don’t make eye contact with the possums and remember that we can only flush the toilet when it’s high tide.”

It was impossible to keep a straight face, which blew my charade in an instant.

He exhaled a long breath of relief, ruffling both hands through his already messy dark hair. “You’re lying.”

“Yes,” I admitted. “You make it so easy.”

He restudied his surroundings.

“Why on earth would you want to raise a baby here, Charli?”

I looked at the infinite blue ocean in the distance. He’d picked a picture-perfect day to show up on my doorstep.

“Stay a while,” I suggested. “You’ll figure it out.”

* * *

Ryan needed sleep, which was perfect because I still had a mountain of laundry to contend with. I made up the bed in the spare room while he brought his luggage in from the ridiculously self-indulgent Mercedes he’d hired. He appeared in the doorway, black Vuitton suitcase in hand.

“I’m sorry about the boxes,” I said, pointing to the untidy heap of FedEx clutter. “I haven’t unpacked properly yet.”

“It’s fine, Charli,” he replied tiredly. “I won’t tell my mother that her meticulous packing ended up in a messy pile on the floor.”

“Fiona packed them?”

Ryan moved to the window. “She insisted on doing it herself.” He held the sheer curtain aside and peered out. “Mom hasn’t taken your departure well.”

Better than anyone, I knew the wrath of Fiona Décarie was not to be underestimated. After all that had happened, I was undoubtedly back on the top of her hit list.

“She must hate me.” I fluffed up a pillow and dropped it on the bed. “I didn’t even say goodbye.”

“She’s not upset with you, Charli,” he said, turning back. “Her anger is reserved entirely for Adam. It’s quite amusing really. I’m enjoying being the favourite son, regardless of how short-lived it may be.”

“She’s angry with Adam?”

He smiled at me with tired eyes. “Furious. The queen is convinced that he should’ve tried harder to make it work. She cried for a week when he told her he’d filed for divorce. It was as if you’d died.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to make sense of this. I was not expecting to hear that she blamed her precious boy for anything. It was a strange turn of events that went a tiny way toward lightening my heavy heart.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I told him, picking one of the many random thoughts in my mind. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I let you down with Billet-doux.”

“Later. Right now I need to sleep.”

I walked to the door. “Sleep well, Ryan. And watch out for the snakes.”

I pulled the door closed just before the pillow thudded against it.

* * *

My father stopped by the cottage on his way home from the café to carry out a welfare check, because he hadn’t seen me all day. “Everything okay?” he asked, breezing through the door.

I was sprawled on the couch, exhausted by the tonne of housework I’d done while Ryan slept off the jetlag.

“Everything’s good,” I told him, and rattled off the list of boring accomplishments I’d achieved that day.

Alex placed his hand on my forehead, frowning. “You need to take it easy.”

I brushed his hand away. “I’m pregnant, not sick.”

“What do you have planned for dinner?” he asked, changing the subject. “Come home with me. Gabi is cooking coq au vin.”

“Tempting but no. I have a house guest.” I spoke with too much jubilance.

“Who?” Alex asked, gripping the arm of the chair. “No, don’t answer. I already know.” He was about to jump to a big conclusion. I kept quiet because I relished the thought of setting him straight. “I thought that the flash car parked on the street belonged to one of the neighbours. But it doesn’t, does it?” he asked glumly.

I shook my head, grinning errantly.

Alex sank into the chair and let out a sigh. “You look too happy, Charlotte. I don’t want to hear that you’ve worked it all out in a couple of hours. Be a smart girl.”

He rattled off the lecture like a well planned speech. I got the impression he’d had it in his head for weeks and was glad to be rid of it.

“Do you have anything else to crush my spirit with today?”

Alex locked his hazel eyes with mine. “Only more of the truth. Don’t get me wrong; I’m happy that Adam made the pilgrimage. It was the honourable thing to do. But you have a lot to work out. Whatever problems you had are still there.” Speech over, he released me and began glancing around the room. “Where is Boy Wonder anyway?”

“In New York I expect,” chimed a voice from behind us. “Hanging out with Batman and the rest of the crew.”

I twisted around to look at Ryan. He leaned against the doorway, arms folded and smirking.

My head snapped back to Alex. He should’ve been embarrassed by what Ryan had heard. But he wasn’t. He was Alex. He stood and held out his hand, looking as self-righteous as I’d ever seen him. “I’m Alex. Charli’s father.”

Ryan crossed the room to meet his handshake. “Ryan Décarie. Boy Wonder’s brother.”

I anticipated fireworks. Alex thought of Adam as cocky and hubristic, and here he was shaking hands with a bigger, badder version.

“Apologise, Alex,” I demanded.

“I don’t need to apologise, Charli,” he said, reclaiming his position on the armchair. “I’ve never said anything about Adam that I’m not prepared to say to his face.”

My father was behaving like an unadulterated brat.

“I like to call it as I see it too,” replied Ryan, taking the last spare chair. “I’m not offended by your father’s assessment, Charli. I don’t think it differs that much from mine.”

Alex chuckled blackly. I scowled at him and glared at Ryan.

“Don’t act so surprised,” chided Ryan, grinning. “I’m not going to sugar-coat it for you.”

“You should be defending your brother,” I said crossly, “not agreeing with Alex.”

His smile didn’t slip. Nor did his trademark condescension. “In order to do that, I’d have to point out your shortcomings. You’re not blameless, Tinker Bell.”

Ryan wasn’t telling me anything I hadn’t heard before. I just couldn’t believe he had the chutzpah to say it in front of my father. Even more bewildering was that Alex wasn’t jumping to my defence – or questioning why he’d referred to me as Tinker Bell. Instead, he changed the subject.

“So what brings you here, Ryan?”

“Well,” Ryan began, “I’m in the unenviable position of having your daughter as a business partner. I’d like to get off that ride now. I’m here to persuade her to sell her half of our restaurant to me. As soon as we can negotiate a price, we’ll draw up the paper work and call it quits.”

“No negotiating, Ryan,” I snapped. “You can take my share for free.”

“And that is exactly why you’re a terrible business woman. Great at keeping secrets, though – or lying, depending on how you look at it.”

“Or
who’s
looking at it,” added Alex.