His-and-Hers Family

He looked at her. “After our conversation yesterday, I thought it was more about what you wanted to do?”

I want to see her.

“I don’t really know,” she said instead. “I thought I did. I thought I knew how I’d react if this moment ever came. Instead I’m completely unprepared. In my mind, when I played this moment over and over, Cecily was an adult and came to find me on her own. Then I could have faced her as an adult. But she’s a child and I know I have to be the strong one … like I should know exactly how to respond and react. But I don’t,” she admitted. “Part of me is overjoyed. The other part …” She paused, waited and couldn’t believe she was exposing her most vulnerable thoughts. “The other part almost wishes you’d never come here.”

The air crackled as she waited for him to respond. “You are strong, Fiona. Anyone can see that. But I don’t want you to have any illusions,” he said directly. “Cecily wants this reunion—but she’s a kid and at the moment is caught up in the excitement of the prospect of reconnecting with her birth mother. Once the dust settles and the novelty passes, the questions will start. And perhaps the blame. Are you ready for that?”

No, I’m not. She knew what questions would come. But she wasn’t about to admit that to the man in front of her. “Are you saying I can see her? That you approve of me?”

Wyatt wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He’d read the investigator’s report and could easily come to the conclusion that Fiona Walsh was a good person. She was a schoolteacher and had friends in the small community. Was it enough? She seemed suitable to connect with Cecily. But he’d been wrong before. And he couldn’t be sure what Fiona intended, either, despite what she said. He knew what Cecily wanted, and that didn’t make the decision any easier. She was as headstrong as they came, particularly on this issue. But there was bound to be fallout—and he didn’t want his niece, his family or Fiona paying a heavy emotional price.

“I think … I think you’ll do what’s right for Cecily.”

“I will,” she said solemnly. “You have my word. My promise.” She stalled for a second and then spoke again. “What’s she like?”

“She’s terrific. Cecily’s a nice kid, but she doesn’t hold back. She says what she thinks, blurts out whatever is on her mind and has a temper to match her red hair.” His mouth flattened in a half smile. “Sound familiar?”

She nodded, and Wyatt saw her eyes shining just a little bit more than usual. “Do you have a picture?”

“Of Cecily? Yes,” he said and took out his smartphone. He pressed a couple of buttons and passed it to her.

Silence stretched between them. Food and beer were forgotten. She blinked a few times and drew in a deep breath as she stared at the picture on the small screen. The resemblance between them was unmistakable, and Wyatt knew that seeing her daughter’s image for the first time was difficult for her.

“Thank you,” she said and pushed the phone across the table. “Can you send me a copy of that?”

“Sure.” Wyatt popped it back into his pocket. “Have you any questions?”

“Hundreds.”

He grinned and reclaimed his fork. “Fire away.”

“Does she like school?”

“Yes. She’s a good student.”

“She has friends?”

“More than I could count.”

She nodded. “Is she happy?”

“Most of the time. She struggled after Karen and Jim died. But with a lot of love and support, she pulled through. She’s strong, gutsy.” Wyatt watched Fiona’s eyes shadow with a hazy kind of sadness. It twisted something inside his chest. Made him want to offer … what? Comfort? Get a grip. “She’s a lot like you.”

Fiona laughed. Brittle. Uncertain. “I’m not gutsy.”

“I’ve read the file, remember?” he said and then wondered if mentioning it was wise. She didn’t react and he decided to push deeper. “Why have you moved around so much?”

“Habit.”

Wyatt’s brows shot up. “That’s not it. Tell me why.”

She speared another dumpling and slid the carton across the table. “Looking for roots, I guess.”

“Did you find them?”

She ate the dumpling, and when she licked her lips, his heart smashed in his chest. I definitely have to stop looking at her mouth.

“I found Callie and Evie, my two best friends,” she explained. “And I like this town. I enjoy my job and my little house.” She glanced around the room. “Plus I can have Titan nearby.”

“So, no boyfriend?”

Her lips curled up. “Didn’t we cover that already? I’m single.”

“Happily?”

She stopped tossing her fork through a carton of spicy chicken. “Who’s happy about being alone?”

She had a point. Although since he’d broken up with Yvette, Wyatt hadn’t wanted to pursue anything serious with anyone. He’d dated one woman since then, and that had faded before it had really begun. He wasn’t in any kind of hurry to lay his heart on the line again. He doubted he ever would be. “Better to be unhappy alone than miserable with someone else.”

“Spoken from experience?” she asked.

He shrugged the question off. “Old news.”

She swapped cartons. “You know things about me. It’s only fair for you to share a little, don’t you think?”

Wyatt grabbed the spicy chicken, took a bite and then washed it down with the beer. “I was engaged. It didn’t work out.”

“Do you miss it?” she asked. “Being with someone, I mean? Just belonging, having somebody to talk with, having someone who gets you?”

“My relationship with my ex-fiancée wasn’t that romantic.”

She frowned. “But you loved her?”

Nothing he said was going to get him away from Fiona’s inquisitive gaze. “I guess.”

He knew it didn’t sound all that convincing. But he wasn’t convinced he actually had loved Yvette. There’d been attraction and a certain compatibility, sure … but love? It was a nice idea, but did it really exist?

“Did a number on you, did she?”

Pretty, smart and intuitive. “You could say that.”

“At least you’ve had the courage to try,” she said in between a mouthful of noodles.

“Have you ever been close?”

She shook her head. “Nope. I’m always the best friend.”

“What?”

She smiled. “You know, the best friend. There’s the girl who always gets the guy … and then there’s the ever-faithful best friend standing on the sidelines. That’s me.”

The best friend. Who was she kidding? She made herself sound about as exciting as an old shoe. Ridiculous. When he could feel the vibration of her through to his blood. Her skin was as clear as a camellia flower, and that hair … He suddenly had a startling image of it trailing across his chest.

Wyatt cleared his throat and drank some beer. “I suppose we should talk about Cecily.”

She looked up. “That is why you’re here, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” he replied, choosing his words. “Before I agree to anything, I need to know if you really want to connect with her. Or if you feel ambivalent or like you have no other choice because it’s what Cecily wants. If that’s the case, believe me, I’ll leave tomorrow and you’ll never hear from me again until you’re ready to make the next move.”

Panic quickly filled her eyes. “No … don’t do that.”

Wyatt didn’t respond. He waited. She had to make a decision. There were no acceptable half measures. Fiona Walsh was either in or out.

“I want …” She stopped, paused, took a long breath. He waited some more for her to speak again. “I do want this,” she said finally, and Wyatt didn’t miss the way her eyes glistened. “I want a chance to explain why I gave her up.”

“And the hard questions?” he shot back. “Because she’s going to ask them and you need to be ready.”

“I will be.”

Wyatt wasn’t sure. Something was amiss; he felt it through to his bones. There was something she wasn’t telling him. He pushed the food aside. “Fiona, about Cecily’s father—I think there are things you’re not saying.”

She shook her head quickly. Too quickly. “There’s nothing. He’s dead. He can never hurt her.”

Wyatt immediately picked up on her words. “Did he hurt you?”

Fiona’s eyes fluttered. “I didn’t mean that. I meant … I meant he’s dead and won’t ever be a part of her life.”

“And that’s all?”

She nodded. “That’s all.”

Caution rattled around in his head, but he stopped the interrogation. “Okay, I’ll talk with Cecily when I get home. We’ll work something out. Cecily’s welfare is my priority, so you understand that any initial contact will be supervised?”

She nodded. “Of course. I’d like to write her a letter, if that’s okay with you. There are some things I’d like to say to her, and I think a letter might be a good way to start. I’ll understand if you need to read it before she does.”

Her lips glistened and looked delicious, and Wyatt’s libido took serious notice. “Sure. I’ll text you my address.” He pushed the beer aside. “I should probably be going. I have an early flight in the morning.”

She stood up, and he lingered for a moment before he got to his feet. Suddenly, leaving didn’t seem like such a great idea. Stunned to realize how much he enjoyed her company and wanted more of it, Wyatt remained by the table and stared at her. The air between them grew thicker, hotter, as though some kind of seductive force had blown into the room.

She was closer now, barely a couple feet away. Close enough to touch if he reached for her. His fingertips tingled at the thought.

“Are you all right?” she asked a little breathlessly.

“I’m just …” He stopped. I’m just thinking about kissing you. “Nothing.” He pulled the car keys from his pocket and rattled them. “Thanks for the beer.”

“Thank you for dinner.”

“No problem. I’ll be in touch.”

She smiled. “Well, good night.”

“Good night, Fiona,” Wyatt said and got out of there as quickly as he could before he forgot all the reasons why he shouldn’t be attracted to her and did something really stupid.

Chapter Three

“So, what’s she like?”

Wyatt had barely walked into the main house at Waradoon late the following afternoon when his mother corralled him with the question. He dropped his keys on the hall stand. “She’s nice.”

“Nice?” Janet Harper’s silvery brows rose swiftly. “That’s all?”

In no mood for the third degree, Wyatt uncharacteristically ignored his mother and headed for the big kitchen at the rear of the house. He grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and tossed the lid in the trash.

“Yeah … nice,” he said when he spotted his mother ten feet behind him, with her hands firmly on her hips.

“Have you agreed for her to meet Cecily?”

It hadn’t been a difficult decision. He instinctively knew Fiona was a good person. Despite also knowing she was holding something back, his concerns were minimal. It was unrealistic to think she’d simply lay her life open because he wanted answers. He could wait. In time he’d know everything about her. He’d make sure of it. “Eventually. Once I’ve talked with Cecily about it.”

“She’ll be home from her riding lesson soon. And full of questions. She’s almost jumping out of her skin over this.” Janet’s voice dropped an octave. “I hope this woman doesn’t—”

“She has a name,” he said quietly. “And don’t stress—you’ll like Fiona.”

Wyatt wished he didn’t like her as much as he did. He’d spent the past twenty-four hours thinking of little else.

And the fact I wanted to kiss her last night.

“Fiona,” his mother echoed, and he quickly got his thoughts back on track. “Yes. And she’s nice. So you keep saying.”

Wyatt frowned. His mother had way too much intuition for his liking. “Stop smiling.”

“I trust your judgment,” she said and sat at the long table. “If you say she’s nice, I’m sure she’s exactly that. You’ll do what’s right for Cecily and the family. You always do.”

Did he? He certainly hadn’t when he’d jumped into his relationship with Yvette. He’d invited her into his family and paid the price. But Wyatt understood the meaning of his mother’s words. He had every intention of ensuring Cecily’s well-being. And he wanted to protect Fiona, too. As for the family, they were all curious about Cecily’s birth mother, especially his sisters. He certainly wasn’t about to unleash them on an unsuspecting Fiona.

“Uncle Wyatt! You’re here!”

Cecily stood in the doorway dressed in her riding garb, and he was amazed how much she looked like her mother. Not her mother. That was Karen. Her birth mother.

She raced across the room and landed against him with a resounding thud.

He hugged her tightly. “Hey, kid, good to see you.”

“You, too,” she said on a rushed breath. “So, tell me everything. Did you see her, did you talk to her, does she want to meet me?”

“Yes, yes and yes.”

Cecily’s eyes filled with moisture. “Really? I can meet her. I can talk to her?”

Wyatt nodded. He knew Cecily was eager, but he also knew he needed to show caution and get her to take things slowly. “She’s going to write to you. Once she’s done that, you can make up your mind about what you want to do.”

Cecily pulled back and straightened her shoulders. “I already know what I want, Uncle Wyatt. I want to meet her. And soon.”

She gave a determined sniff and left the room to change and attend to her homework.

“I told you she was keen.”

Cecily wanted to meet her birth mother. Fiona wanted to reconnect with the child she’d given up. If it worked out, everyone would be happy. But if not, Wyatt could see the potential for disaster.

“You know,” his mother said in that way that meant he was supposed to listen, “you could take some time off and take Cecily to see her. It might be easier for Cecily to meet her birth mother away from Waradoon. I’m sure Miss Walsh would feel overwhelmed to come here with all of us hanging around, if that’s what you were planning.”

He wasn’t planning anything. The logistics had been on the back burner. But bring her to Waradoon? Wyatt’s focus had been on getting to know Fiona before he made any decisions.

And now that I know her, I can’t get her out of my mind ….

He paid his mother attention again. “You mean take Cecily to Crystal Point?”

“Why not? How long has it been since you’ve taken a vacation? And you know how Cecily loves the beach.” Janet raised her brows. “It might do you some good, too.”

He didn’t miss the dig. “I don’t need a vacation.”

She clearly didn’t agree and pulled no punches in telling him so. “Your father had his first heart attack when he was forty-two because he worked too hard. I don’t want to see that happen to you. There’s more to life than Harper Engineering.”

Wyatt knew what was coming. He needed a life. He needed a wife. But that wasn’t going to happen.

“The business will be—”

“Fine,” she assured him. “Alessio will be there,” she said of his brother-in-law and right-hand man. “Take a few weeks and—”

“A few weeks?” Wyatt stared at his mother. “I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can,” she said and smiled. “School breaks up soon for two weeks. I don’t think pulling Cecily out of classes for an extra week would hurt her.”

A few weeks in Crystal Point? Cecily would jump at the opportunity, he was sure. And Fiona … would she agreed to whatever he suggested if it meant having the chance to reconnect with her daughter?

I’m just not sure I should be spending three weeks around Fiona Walsh.

But other than sending Cecily to Crystal Point alone, which he would never do, or invite Fiona to Waradoon, which he wasn’t sure she’d agree to, what option did he have?

“So it’s all arranged?” Fiona asked her friend Evie Dunn.

“Yep,” Evie replied. “They’re booked to arrive on Saturday and are staying for nearly three weeks.” Evie’s black brows rose sharply. “You know, I’ve told you this at least four times already.”

She knew that. But she wanted to hear it again. And again. Her daughter was coming to meet her. My daughter is coming here.

The reality was both exciting and terrifying.

Cecily had read the letter Fiona had sent via her uncle and had quickly replied with an email, including photographs, and Fiona had choked back tears as she’d read her daughter’s words. They’d been heartfelt and full of courage.

Fiona found herself holding her breath. “I know … just checking.”

“Good thing we had that cancellation,” Evie said.

Evie’s bed-and-breakfast, Dunn Inn, was a popular retreat in the small town and usually had full occupancy. The cancellation of guests meant that two rooms were available, and Fiona couldn’t have been happier.

“You’re gonna be loco by the time they get here,” Callie said and passed Fiona a drink. It was Friday night and the art class in Evie’s studio was over. Two other participants had bailed ten minutes earlier, and it left Fiona sharing a drink with Callie, Evie and Evie’s younger sister, Mary-Jayne Preston. They liked to think of it as Friday night cocktails, but with Evie only three months away from having a baby, they made do with peach iced tea instead of alcohol. Only Mary-Jayne, or M.J. as she was called, complained. Fiona was happy to keep her mind buzzing.

“So, he’s hot? The uncle?” M.J. asked in her usual boots-and-all manner.

“Yep. Hotter than Hades.” It was Callie, who was married to Evie and M. J.’s older brother, Noah, who replied. “The original tall, dark and handsome.”

Fiona sipped her tea. She wasn’t going to think about Wyatt. Definitely not.

“And single?” M. J.’s eyes popped wide. “From a wealthy family and running a successful business? Interesting.”

Fiona pushed aside the niggling resentment forming in her blood. It shouldn’t matter to her that another woman might find Wyatt attractive … but it did. If she dared summon the courage, she would admit the truth—that she was nervous about seeing him again.

He’d emailed her with details of their upcoming visit, and Fiona knew she’d read, and then reread, each of his messages more times than was sensible. But Wyatt was hard to ignore, even through something as bland as an email or text message. Of course, there was nothing even remotely personal in his messages. They were only about Cecily. Which was what she wanted, right?

His indifference gave her the opportunity to focus on her daughter. She learned about Cecily’s school, her friends, her beloved horse, Banjo, and the family who clearly adored her. Talking with her daughter seemed so natural and not awkward, like she had imagined for so many years.

Awkward she saved for Wyatt. And the stretched nerves she took with herself everywhere she went—she saved them for him, too. And the fluttering in her belly whenever she thought about his blue eyes and perfectly sexy smile.

“Earth to Fiona?”

She snapped her thoughts back to the moment and discovered her three friends staring at her with raised brows and widened eyes. “I was thinking about Cecily,” she said and took a drink.

“You sighed,” M.J. told her. “Loudly.”

“I cleared my throat,” she said in defense. “So, who’s up for more iced tea?”

Callie checked her watch. “Count me out. I have to get going. I promised Noah I’d be home early.”

Fiona didn’t miss the dreamy look on her friend’s face. Callie adored her husband and four stepchildren. And with a pregnant Evie soon to marry Callie’s younger brother, Scott, the two families were now intimately linked. Sometimes, when she watched them interact and observed the friendly rivalry and obvious affection the siblings felt for one another, Fiona experienced a sharp pain in her chest.

She’d never known family. Her great-uncle Leonard had done his best to provide her with a safe home after her mother dumped her on his doorstep, but he’d been a dyed-in-the-wool bachelor with old-fashioned morals and hadn’t known how to handle a pregnant and emotionally fraught fifteen-year-old girl. He kept her fed and clothed and gave her a place to live—in his mind that was enough.

There had been no question about her keeping the baby.

The deal was done before she’d gone into labor. A married couple was taking her baby—that was all Fiona was told. The adoption would be closed. She could never contact her child.

But now I have my daughter back ….

Well, she had a chance at least.

But she knew there were going to be challenging times ahead. Cecily would have questions, and she still wasn’t sure how she would answer them. And Wyatt? She knew he’d be watching her every move and trying to discover her secrets. But even knowing that, Fiona held a seed of optimism in her heart. And when she returned to her empty little house a short while later, Fiona didn’t feel half the loneliness that normally weighed down her shoulders when she opened the front door. She felt … hope.

Purple. Or as the woman behind him said in a chirpy tone, lavender. Wyatt had never been in a room that was so pretty. As he dumped his bag by the foot of the bed, the hostess told him the room was usually used by honeymooners and couples. Cecily was happily entrenched in the smaller room next door, a much more appealing space decorated in beige and white. This was too much.

The big bed was strewn with more pillows than he’d ever seen. He couldn’t sleep in here, surrounded by flowers and purple cushions. And what the hell was the scent hitting his nose like a boxing glove every time he moved … potpourri?

“So, I’ll let you settle in,” Evie Dunn said cheerfully.

Wyatt didn’t have a chance to object. The woman walked out of the room, and seconds later Cecily bounded through the door.

She wrinkled her nose. “Uncle Wyatt, it smells like a perfume shop in here.”

That did it. “Let’s switch rooms.”

“My allergies,” she protested. “And I’ve already unpacked.”

Yeah, her three cases. One for every week they were staying in Crystal Point.

“Right, allergies.” He forgot about the sickly sweet room for a moment. “Are you ready to go?”

Cecily nodded. “Yep. I don’t know why we couldn’t meet here?”

“The hotel is better,” he said quietly. Neutral. It was what Fiona wanted.

“But Evie said we could use the front living room, and I—”

“You know the deal. Let’s go,” he said, gently cutting her off. Sometimes Cecily’s exuberance was exhausting.

“Do you think she’ll like me? Do you think she’ll be disappointed?” Cecily popped out questions at a million miles per hour. “What if she—”

“Cecily—relax. She’ll like you,” he assured his niece. “I promise. And where’s all this sudden anxiety coming from anyway? You’ve been talking on the phone and by email for two weeks now.”

“But this is face-to-face,” she said in a rush of breath. “And that’s way different.”

Yeah … way different. The tension knocking inside his chest was inexplicable. He didn’t ever get like this. But thinking about Fiona Walsh stirred his blood. And considering the circumstances, Wyatt knew it was out of the question to be attracted to her. He couldn’t afford to be sidetracked by Fiona’s pretty face and lovely curves. He’d been swept away by physical attraction before. He wasn’t about to make that same mistake again.

He only had to look at Cecily to know he had to keep his head on straight.

“You’re going to be a hit. Trust me.”

“I do, Uncle Wyatt,” she said and hugged him. “I want it all to work out so much. I want Fiona to like me, and I want to like her back, too.”

“I’m sure you will,” he assured her. “She’s nice.”

Cecily shrugged. “Well, she seems nice. But you never really know what someone is like at first.”

Wyatt heard the waver in his niece’s voice. “Cecily, are you having doubts about this?”