Honeysuckle Bride

Which could mean Jenna would lose some interesting job opportunities, she thought with a small pang of loss, but the girls were keeping her too busy to regret her decision.

Abby dashed into the kitchen, her ponytail swinging as she grabbed two warm cookies then hightailed it back to the bedroom.

“Hey, no food in your room,” Jenna called to her retreating back. The brief feeling of loss vanished as Abby disappeared. Yeah, she’d much rather be with the girls. “Listen, Barbara, I have to run. Thanks for calling.”

She ended the call and then checked on the girls, who were happily playing in their room. Satisfied they were occupied by their dolls, she hurried to her room for a quick shower. Afterward, she stood before her closet wrapped in a towel, trying to decide which outfit to choose. She finally selected a denim sundress for their goodwill mission, and placed a quick call to Nealy.

Her stomach turned, nervous at the prospect of seeing Wyatt again. His parting remarks at the beach, although true, had stung. She couldn’t help but wonder how receptive he’d be when she showed up on his doorstep, cookies or no.

* * *

WYATT WALKED INTO his cottage, located within walking distance from the marina, tossing his keys on the coffee table. His golden retriever, Cruiser, followed him into the kitchen, jumping up for attention. “Down, boy.”

Absently rubbing the dog’s head, he poured some kibble from a twenty-pound bag into Cruiser’s bowl, then pulled a glass from the shelf mounted on the wall that served as storage. He opened the fridge and poured a glass of orange juice for himself, draining it as he wandered into the small living room.

He stared out the window, at the view of the Gulf water. Before long, the familiar ache he lived with every day enveloped him.

Two years. Two long years since Jamie had died. Eighteen months since Marcie divorced him.

Since the accident, his family had been after him to talk to a professional. His older brother, Josh, moved back to Cypress Pointe with the purpose of keeping an eye on him. A useless move, but Wyatt appreciated the sentiment.

“You need to let go of the grief,” Josh and the family told him. “You need to move on.”

They didn’t understand. If not for the unrelenting pain, he wouldn’t feel anything at all. He was so far beyond numb, grief remained the only emotion alive inside him.

A boat motored by. Wyatt stepped out onto the small screened-in porch to watch its passage, running a hand over his grizzled chin. He should shave. Probably get a haircut. But didn’t really give a flip.

Why had he let Max talk him into moving back to Cypress Pointe?

After aimlessly traveling the world, taking one job as yacht captain after another, he’d run into Max four months ago. A mutual Navy buddy had invited both of them to his wedding. Since Wyatt happened to be in the States at the time, he attended, hoping a reunion with old friends would help ease him out of his funk.

“You look terrible,” Max greeted him at the reception.

He knew Max spoke the truth. After all, he viewed his face in the mirror every morning. Realized the shadows under his eyes and the blank expression were growing more pronounced daily. “Thanks, buddy.”

Max scowled. “You can’t go on like this.”

“Like what? A guy grieving the loss of his family?”

“You’re entitled to your grief, Wyatt, but enough is enough. There comes a point when you have to deal with the loss and try to move on.”

It was all Wyatt could do to keep his temper in check. Didn’t Max see it wasn’t that easy? Every day was a struggle to get out of bed and survive. He knew his buddy meant well, knew Max wanted to help somehow, even if it entailed spewing tough love.

“Do you miss Cypress Pointe?” Max had asked him.

“Not particularly.”

“Folks in town miss you. Your parents worry.”

Like he needed more guilt. “And bringing this empty shell back to Cypress Pointe is going to make things better?”

“You need to be around people who love you. Running sure hasn’t helped you heal.”

Max had a point. Running had only made him more lonely. More bitter. Less than the man he wanted to be.

After thinking it over for a few days, Wyatt decided Max was right, so he moved home.

Sure, Cypress Pointe was pretty. For the most part, people stayed out of his business. He found a job he liked. His family, thrilled to have him home again, tried to cajole him into a normal existence, as if his life hadn’t been shattered beyond recognition. Friends welcomed him with open arms, inviting him to get-togethers he had no interest in attending. The thing none of them understood was that he wasn’t the man he used to be. Never would be. His life had irrevocably changed the day Jamie died and he was still trying to navigate the waters of what constituted this new existence.

And so his self-imposed isolation continued.

But lately, Max had grown more vigilant in encouraging Wyatt to move out of his comfortable seclusion. Meet me for coffee. Let’s go fishing. Wyatt recognized the invitations for what they were, attempts to drag Wyatt back into the land of the living. He doubted that was possible.

Yet some part of him knew he had to get out of this rut. Problem was, he didn’t have the energy to pull it off. At that thought, a bitter laugh escaped him. Rut was putting it mildly. No change of location or routine would alter the truth. His son was dead and it was his fault.

So for now, running the charter fishing boat was all he could handle. He’d go along with Max’s little outings, just to keep him from nagging. Let Josh and the family think they were reaching him. Give them something positive to hold on to, even though Wyatt knew better.

Not bothering to stifle a yawn, he dropped into an Adirondack chair, kicking up his feet on an old trunk. Cruiser, who’d finished eating, flopped down beside Wyatt for a nap.

This morning he’d risen early for a scheduled charter. A group of businessmen who didn’t know a fishing rod from a BB gun had been a challenge, but the guys knew how to have fun. Long hours in the sun, bright red cheeks and hungry stomachs later, he’d motored back to port. He declined their invitation to join them for lunch. He’d rather sit on the porch by himself, staring out over the calm water, than mingle and make small talk.

For fifteen minutes he savored the relative silence until the sound of chattering voices snagged his attention. A knock rattled the screen door.

Cruiser jumped up, on full alert, barking until Wyatt commanded him to calm down.

“Hello. Anyone home?” a female voice called out.

He glanced through the screen. The woman from the beach yesterday, flanked by her two little girls, peered inside.

Beautiful green eyes stared at him. He bit back a groan and sank deeper in the chair. Mimicking the computerized tone known to all answering machine owners, he said, “No one is here right now. Just leave a message.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” one of the girls said. “He’s sitting right there.”

So much for his lame attempt at humor. Man, he was rusty. “Means I’m not up for company.”

“Then you should go inside and close the door,” the other girl said, matter-of-factly.

How he wished he had.

“We’ll only keep you a minute.” The woman held up a plastic-wrapped plate. “We brought you a present.”

Which meant he had to get up to let them in. Swallowing a sigh, he rose and crossed the porch, holding Cruiser by the collar as he opened the door.

“Thank you,” the pretty blonde said, her light and airy tone at odds with her worried expression.

All three entered the porch, hovering near the doorway. Okay, his social skills were pretty awful right now, but the way the girls hugged the woman’s side, like they were nervous, surprised him. He ran a hand over his chin, glanced down at his old T-shirt, cargo shorts and scuffed boat shoes, and grimaced.

“Sorry, I just got in from work. Haven’t had a chance to clean up.”

“It’s okay. We won’t stay long.” She thrust the covered plate in his direction. “We wanted to thank you. For yesterday.”

“When you pulled me out of the water,” the girl on the left piped up.

As if he could have forgotten.

The woman smiled down at the child, ran her hand over her hair in an affectionate gesture before meeting his eyes again.

“My name is Jenna Monroe. These are my girls.” She nodded to the one on the left. “Bridget.” Then right to the girl with the ponytail. “Abby.”

For the first time his mind registered the children were twins, dressed in matching white tops with a big, bold flower print on front, pink shorts and sneakers. In all the excitement yesterday, he hadn’t noticed.

He glanced at their mother, wearing a flattering blue summer dress. Self-conscious, he wished he’d showered as soon as he got home.

Realizing the woman still held out the plate, he took it from her hand.

Smooth, Hamilton.

“We baked you cookies,” Bridget announced.

Of course they had.

“Can we play with your dog?” asked Abby.

Cruiser, dancing in place the entire time, strained against Wyatt’s hold. He looked at Jenna. “Okay with you?”

“If he’s good with kids.”

“The best.”

“Fine.”

He let go of Cruiser, who covered them with doggy kisses. The twins giggled and cooed at their new friend.

“Why don’t you girls go in while your mother and I talk. There’s a basket of Cruiser’s toys beside the couch in the den.”

The girls ran ahead, talking to Cruiser as they went.

Suddenly remembering his manners, Wyatt nodded to the porch chair. “Have a seat.”

Jenna looked around. “There’s only one chair.”

Right. Because having only one chair discouraged visitors from staying. “I’ll be right back.” He hurried inside, placed the plate of cookies on the counter, grabbed a kitchen chair and returned to the porch. Jenna was settled in the Adirondack chair, looking as if she belonged there.

Her genuine smile greeted him, sending a warm rush of expectation through him. Surprised by the intensity of the long-dormant sensation, Wyatt set the chair down with a thud.

“I’m sorry for just barging in. I’d have called first, but...”

He dropped into the chair. “You don’t have my number.”

“I felt it was important for the girls to thank you.”

Giggles and a bark sounded from the other room.

“I appreciate you rescuing Bridget, but your parting words...”

What had he said? To be honest, he was so ticked, he couldn’t recall his words. All he knew was, he’d been walking along the beach, thinking about Jamie, when the urgent cries had him in the water before he could stop himself.

“The conditions probably weren’t the best. I should have been right there in the water with them, but in my defense, I didn’t know they couldn’t swim.”

He frowned. “You’re their mother. Shouldn’t you know?”

She waved her hand. “It’s a long story. I became their guardian after their mother passed away.”

“Sorry.” His brow wrinkled. “You were probably upset enough without me piling on, but you should be more careful.”

Her spine went stiff. “I’ll decide what I should and should not do when it comes to my girls.”

He noticed her cheeks had flushed pink. “Sometimes I get a little carried away, especially when it has to do with kids around water.”

Her anger faded as something more troublesome crossed her face. “I understand.”

He read the pity in her eyes and his stomach tightened. Here came The Conversation. Mostly he stayed away from the topic, but in light of yesterday’s events, he couldn’t let it go.

“You know?”

“Yes. Nealy told me. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

No matter how many times he heard the platitude, it made him angry, even when he knew it came from the heart. He met Jenna’s gaze. She didn’t know the entire story. If she did, her empathy would most likely change to derision.

Although his social skills were rusty from lack of use, he managed to mutter, “Thanks.”

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. She stood, smoothing her dress. “We won’t keep you any longer.”

Following her lead, he called Cruiser. The dog loped out of the house, the girls not far behind.

“He’s super friendly,” said the girl with a ponytail. Abby, was it?

“And he likes us,” Bridget added. “Can we come back and play with him?”

“Now girls, Mr. Hamilton is busy. We can’t just invite ourselves over for a visit.”

Wyatt nearly laughed out loud. Busy? Not so much. “Cruiser and I like to walk the beach. If we run into you, you can play with him.”

The girls hugged the dog. Cruiser basked in the attention.

“Well, we should be leaving.” Jenna turned to the girls. “What did you want to tell Mr. Hamilton?”

In unison they said, “Thank you.”

He nodded. “And thanks for the cookies.”

She gathered the girls. They stepped through the screen door and down the steps. Before rounding the house, she stopped. “Will you be at the party tonight?”

Max had mentioned something about a party but he hadn’t listened. “Party?”

“To welcome the girls and me to town.”

“I hadn’t planned on it.”

She tilted her head, the sunlight catching the highlights in her hair, her skin glowing. An indulgent smile curved her lips, throwing him off balance and making him feel warm. “Do you like to eat?”

His mind suddenly went blank. He blinked. What was the question? Oh, yeah. Eating. “What has that got to do with anything?”

“I’m cooking. You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted my secret mac and cheese recipe.”

In the past two years, he hadn’t lived much, period. Yet this petite woman showed up on his doorstep with cookies, and for a split second he was considering going to her party.

“See you at six?”

What was wrong with him? She may be pretty, her smile the best thing he’d seen in a long time, but his empty porch beckoned. “I didn’t say I was coming.”

A sassy grin lit her face. “You won’t be able to resist.” After her final volley, she disappeared from view.

Wyatt ran his hand over his chin again, shaking his head at the small smile forming on his lips.

In less than thirty minutes, Jenna had made him self-conscious about his appearance, her girls had vied for his dog’s affection, and, he had to admit, he’d found her company more entertaining than anything in ages.

She was right. He couldn’t resist seeing her at the party. For once, he wouldn’t be hiding out at home. Alone.

CHAPTER THREE

“C’MON, GIRLS,” JENNA called down the hallway from her bedroom as she fastened an earring in place. “We’re running late.”

She hadn’t gotten used to waiting on two young girls to get ready. Always priding herself on punctuality, she’d yet to master getting the three of them dressed and out the door on time.

“Coming,” Abby answered.

At the sound of the oven buzzer, Jenna hurried to the kitchen. The aroma of baking cheese met her before she entered the room. Using three different gourmet cheeses, with a bit of bacon thrown in and a topping of artisan breadcrumbs, she’d made the promised mac and cheese dish for the party. Donning a pair of oven mitts, she pulled the pan out and covered it with aluminum foil. Turning the oven off, she walked back down the hallway, stopping at the door of the girls’ room. Abby was on the floor, slipping on the new sparkly sandals Jenna had bought for the occasion. Bridget sat nearby, brushing the hair on her favorite doll.

“Ready?”

“Yes,” they answered in unison.

Returning to her bedroom, she picked up her purse before performing a quick scan of the space. She worried about forgetting to unplug her hair straightener or another electrical appliance, especially after a fire destroyed one of the foster homes she’d lived in. Satisfied everything was in order, she left the room.

“Front and center,” she sang out.

The girls ran to the living room. Jenna smiled as she viewed their matching sundresses, Abby in pink, Bridget in purple. Jenna had pulled their shoulder-length hair into ponytails with matching bows to finish off the look.

Her heart squeezed tight. “Beautiful,” she said, crouching to give them a hug.

“We’re late,” Bridget reminded her.

“Right.” Rising, Jenna smoothed the skirt of her red, sleeveless A-line dress. She’d blown dry her hair in a breezy style, not much else to do with the short length, and added her favorite spiky sandals, which gave her petite frame some height. “Let’s−”

Her cell rang again. “One minute.” She hurried to the kitchen, glancing at the caller ID. Barbara. The woman’s timing was impeccable. It was like she knew exactly when Jenna was in the middle of something with the girls and couldn’t answer the phone. Funny how her agent’s calls had never bothered her before the girls became a permanent part of her life.

“Jenna!” Bridget called.

“Coming.” No time to talk now. She would speak with Barbara later.

Tossing the phone in her purse, she grabbed the handles of the mac and cheese pan and hustled the girls out to the car. Soon, they were on the road. She breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully Nealy wouldn’t be too upset with them for being tardy.

As she pulled into the parking lot of the Grand Cypress Hotel, her cell rang again. Irritated now, she parked the car before digging the phone from her purse. The caller ID showed Barbara’s name. Jenna quickly pressed the talk button.

“Good grief,” Barbara said by way of a greeting. “I didn’t think you’d ever pick up.”

“Sorry. I was driving.”

“Listen, Jenna, I got a call from Kitchen Care. They want you to sign on for the commercial we discussed.”

A major sponsor of Jenna’s show, Kitchen Care Cookware, a large commercial-grade cookware company, was ready to release a new line of products, and they wanted Jenna as their spokesperson.

“Barbara, I can’t do it right now.”

“I know you’re on a break, but Jenna, this is Kitchen Care.”

“I understand.”

A voice sounded from the backseat. “Are we getting out of the car?”

Jenna glanced over her shoulder. “Yes.”

“Yes to Kitchen Care?” Barbara asked.

“No, Barbara. I have the girls in the car. Let me call you tomorrow.”

“Seriously consider this, Jenna. Your decision will affect the show. And your career.”

Barbara wasn’t being overly dramatic. In the world of cable television, pleasing sponsors was vital to a show’s longevity. “I know.”

“Fine. I’ll wait for your call.”

“Thanks.” Jenna almost hung up before a last-minute thought came to her. “Barbara, any photos or stories about me in the tabloids?”

“No. Why?”

“Just making sure.” She was glad her plan to escape the annoying reporter was working.

“After the incident with Rod, I’m very careful, just as you requested.”

Jenna blew out a breath. “Okay.”

“Jenna,” Abby called.

“I have to go, Barbara. Talk to you later.”

After tapping the off button, she got the girls out of the car, picked up the warm pan and headed inside. The name of the room reserved for the party was posted in the ornate lobby.

Nealy swooped down on her as soon as she set foot in the brightly decorated banquet room. A huge Welcome banner took up one entire wall, surrounded by balloons of every shape and color. Tables were scattered about, topped with bright cloths and flower arrangements. A long table, featuring an assortment of appetizers, lined another wall, along with a station set up for drinks.

“Way to be on time,” Nealy mock scolded.

“Sorry. I’m still navigating the ins and outs of getting the three of us dressed and ready to go.”

Nealy took the pan from Jenna. “You’re here now. I have lots of people for you to meet.”

Jenna glanced around the room again. “Wow. You really went all out.”

“I wanted this party to be special. To usher you into your new life.” Nealy crouched in front of the girls. “And I suppose you’d like something more fun to do than talk to old people.”

Both girls nodded their heads.

“My nephew Davey and his girlfriend will take you to the game room.” She called to a teenage boy as she rose then turned her attention back to Jenna. “If it’s okay with you?”

“Can I go with them?”

“Not a chance. Davey’s very reliable and we have work to do.” Nealy carried the pan to the food table, moving a few dishes around before placing it in the empty space.

Jenna spoke briefly with Davey before he took the girls to the game room, then joined Nealy.

“I have to say, my mac and cheese smells delicious,” Jenna teased her cooking-challenged friend.

“You know I hate it when you brag.”

“Hey, I like jealousy on you,” Nealy’s boyfriend, Dane, said as he joined them. “Gives me hope you’ll one day learn to master the kitchen so you can feed me.”

The women looked at each other and laughed.

Nealy leaned in to kiss Dane, then grabbed Jenna’s arm. “C’mon, let’s mingle.”

And mingle they did. Before she knew it, Jenna met half the population of Cypress Pointe. Everyone from the mayor and the police chief to shop owners and other town notables. The list went on, leaving Jenna to try to remember the barrage of names.

She smiled until her cheeks ached. Chatted about her job, her family and whatever else the fine folks of Cypress Pointe found interesting. The old urge to melt into the sidelines threatened to overwhelm her, but she pushed away the inclination. Nealy had gone above and beyond to plan this party for Jenna. The least she could do was enjoy it.

Parched from all the talking, Jenna poured herself a glass of lemon-flavored water. In a quiet corner she regrouped, appreciating a moment alone.

She peered over the crowd, surprised to discover that in a short time, she already liked living here. Her busy life in LA left her little opportunity to develop close relationships, but she found she was fond of the friendly residents and peaceful atmosphere of Cypress Pointe. Here, the pace was much slower. More conducive to enjoying life, rather than barreling through every second of the day to attain the next goal, as she’d been doing for years.

But can this place hold your interest, a voice inside her whispered. Can it keep you and the girls safe?

Until she was here longer, she couldn’t answer that question. Only time would tell.

Nealy weaved through the room toward her, talking to a couple walking with her. Jenna smiled, ready for another round of introductions

“Jenna, meet Max and Lilli, old friends of mine.”

They all shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.

“Max is the man responsible for bringing Wyatt to town,” Nealy informed her.

The handsome man smiled at Jenna. “Heard you had a little run-in with my old buddy?”

She shrugged. “More like he saved the day.”

Lilli touched her arm. “You must have been terrified.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“Nealy told us about the girls’ mother.” Lilli shook her head. “What a terrible loss.”

“Yes. Carrie should be the one raising her daughters, not me.”

“In a perfect world,” Lilli said. “But they have you.”

“And she’s an awesome mom,” Nealy interjected.

“As long as we stay away from the beach,” Jenna teased, deflecting the direction of conversation. She didn’t want credit for something she hadn’t yet earned.

“Well, welcome to town.” Lilli smiled. “You’re going to love it here.”

Nealy hooked her arm through Lilli’s. “And we have a new friend to add to our girls’ night out.”

“Watch out,” Max deadpanned.

As the women started discussing the merits of a chic-flick evening at home versus a night on the town, minus their men, Jenna felt Max’s gaze focus on her.

“Is there a problem?” she asked, uneasy with his intensity.