Driftwood Cottage Page 2

  “I fear it’s because he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body,” Megan replied sorrowfully. “He’s become cynical when it comes to love. Mick and I did that to him, and that job of his—dealing with bitter divorces every single day—has reaffirmed his jaded views.”

  “Then what makes you think he’ll ever come around?” Heather asked. “Because I am a romantic,” Megan said, smiling. “I believe in the power of love. And I know how deeply he cares about the people he has let into his heart—his sisters and his brother, his grandmother, even Mick when they’re not battling over one thing or another.”

  “I saw that side of him, too, or thought I did,” Heather said softly, though her voice lacked the conviction of Megan’s.

  “Then don’t give up on Connor,” Megan advised. “He’ll find his way back to you. I believe that, too.”

  As much as she admired the older woman and respected her opinions, Heather wished she could share Megan’s faith where Connor was concerned. So far she hadn’t seen even the tiniest chink in his well-established armor. He was dead-set against letting emotion overrule his very stubborn head, at least when it came to her.

  Connor stood in the middle of his townhouse in Baltimore and wondered why it no longer felt like home. The furniture he and Heather had chosen was still in place. She’d taken nothing when she left, and yet without her the place felt empty. The kitchen cupboards were filled with dishes, the refrigerator stocked with food, albeit mostly of the frozen variety. In fact, despite her departure several months ago, Heather’s touch was everywhere, right down to the framed photos of his son scattered over just about every surface.

  Heather’s glowing face beamed back at him from many of them, as well. It always made his heart catch when he caught an unexpected glimpse of her. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known, inside and out. Most people saw the shining blond hair, hazel eyes and delicate features and focused on those, but he knew she had the most generous heart on earth. She’d put up with him long enough to prove she was a saint.

  And then she’d gone. Just like that, on Thanksgiving Day while he’d been out nursing his wounds over a glass of Irish whisky with a couple of buddies, decrying his parents’ plan to remarry, Heather had packed up their son and left. To add to his dismay, she’d dropped the baby off on his parents’ doorstep, dragging both Mick and Megan into the middle of the drama. Connor wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive her for that.

  Disgruntled just by the thought of the humiliation he’d felt having to go home to Chesapeake Shores and explain himself to the mother from whom he’d been estranged for years, he poured himself another glass of Irish whisky. He went into his office hoping to push all of his sour thoughts out of his head and get some work done. Before he could cross the room, though, the doorbell rang. He opened it to find his brother Kevin standing there.

  “This is an unexpected surprise,” Connor said, regarding Kevin warily. His brother wasn’t in the habit of dropping in. The last time he had, he’d found a very pregnant Heather on the scene and nearly been struck dumb by the awkward moment. He’d mostly stayed away since.

  “You feel like some company?” Kevin inquired, moving aside to reveal two of their oldest friends, Will and Mack, along with Connor’s brothers-in-law, Trace Riley and Jake Collins.

  Connor scowled, his worst fears confirmed. They were here on some kind of mission. It was anyone’s guess who’d put them up to it. His money was on his father.

  “And if I don’t?” he asked.

  “Hey, Baltimore’s a big city. I’m sure we can find someplace else to hang out,” Jake said. “I’m not wasting this chance for a guys’ night. The only reason your sister let me out of our regular date night is because Kevin told her we were coming to see you.”

  Connor stared at Jake incredulously. “You let Bree tell you what you can and can’t do? Come on, man, that’s just pitiful.” It reaffirmed his low opinion of marriage as well, even if they were talking about his sister.

  Jake grinned. “I let her think that’s how it works,” he corrected. “And, to be perfectly honest, this date night idea of hers has some amazing benefits, or at least it did until she got so pregnant she can barely move. She blames the huge belly, the baby’s constant kicking and the swollen ankles all on me. These days I can pretty much forget about sex.”

  Connor clapped his hands over his ears. “Too much information,” he protested. He turned to Trace. “And Abby? Does she have to give you permission to go out with the guys?”

  “No way,” Trace said forcefully. “However, it helps that she’s staying in Baltimore tonight herself because of work, so the subject didn’t really come up.”

  “What did you do with the twins?” Connor asked, referring to Abby’s very precocious daughters who were now nine-going-on-nineteen. “They’re a little young to be left on their own.”

  “They’re staying with Grandma Megan and Grandpa Mick,” Trace said. “The only drawback is that tomorrow I will once again have to explain that ice cream and candy are not the two most important food groups. I’ll have to try to convince them of that before Mommy gets home.”

  “You two do have your trials, don’t you?” Connor said to his brothers-in-law with amusement. “You’re not exactly walking endorsements for marriage.”

  Trace and Jake exchanged a worried look that said it all. Obviously at least some part of their mission was to convince him what a mess he was making of things with Heather.

  Still, since the men were on his doorstep and he was in desperate need of company, Connor stepped aside to let them enter. “I don’t suppose any of you thought to bring food, did you? I have a freezer full of frozen dinners, but that’s about it.”

  “Mack has the closest pizza place on speed dial,” Kevin assured him. “His cell phone allows him to find that in any city in the country. He may be lonely, but he’ll never starve.”

  “I’m not all that lonely,” Mack retorted.

  “Even though he still claims he’s not dating your cousin Susie, they seem to spend every spare minute together,” Will taunted. “I’m thinking of writing some kind of case study for a psychology journal on the whole phenomenon of delusional nondating.”

  “Bite me,” Mack replied cheerfully, then took out his phone. “Pizza okay for everyone?”

  “Works for me,” Connor said, then looked pointedly at his unexpected guests. “As long as it doesn’t come with a side order of meddling.”

  “Absolutely not,” Kevin said solemnly.

  “Agreed,” Trace said.

  “No meddling with dinner,” Will said, then grinned. “We’re saving that for dessert.”

  “How’d things go with Heather today?” Mick asked Megan when they met for dinner at one of the small cafés along Shore Road in the same block as her gallery.

  “She’s getting settled in,” Megan told him. “I think her business is going to be wildly successful. She showed me her apartment upstairs today, too, and it’s adorable, just right for her and little Mick.”

  “I still don’t understand why she wouldn’t move into the house with us,” Mick grumbled. “Little Mick’s already comfortable there. We have plenty of room.”

  “And it would put the two of them right in Connor’s face every time he comes home,” Megan said. “Is that what you were hoping for?”

  “Well, why not?” Mick replied testily. “If those two would spend a little more time together, they could work things out. You know it as well as I do.”

  “I also know they can’t be rushed. Time apart may be the best thing for them right now.”

  Mick regarded his wife with amusement. “Don’t act as if you’re not doing your share of manipulating, woman. I know all about the way you put a bug in Kevin’s ear to spend some time with Connor tonight. The way I hear it, he, Jake, Trace, Will and Mack have all been dispatched to Connor’s place to extol the joys of married life.”

  Megan regarded him innocently. “Will and Mack aren’t married.”<
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  “Maybe not, but Will’s a shrink, so he has all sorts of insights to offer, I’m sure. As for Mack, he might as well be, for all the time he’s spending with Susie these days.” He shook his head in bewilderment. “I have no idea why my brother hasn’t stepped in and taken control of that situation. It’s time for Mack to get off the dime and propose to that girl, or at least admit he’s dating her.”

  “Your brother is not the natural-born meddler that you are,” Megan reminded him. “I’m sure Susie and Mack are very grateful for that.”

  “There you go, sounding all superior again, when I know for a fact you’re every bit the meddler that I am,” Mick accused.

  Megan laughed. “What can I say? I want all of our children to be as happy and settled as we are.”

  Mick studied her face, looking for any sign of discontent. After missing too many hints of unhappiness during their first marriage, he was determined to be attuned to every nuance of their relationship this time around.

  “You mean that?” he asked directly. “You’re happy?”

  “Of course I am. I have everything I could possibly want. You and I are back together. I’ve opened a business I love, and it’s gotten off to a solid start. And my relationship with each of our children is getting stronger every day. What could I possibly have to complain about?”

  “Maybe the fact that you never did get that honeymoon I promised you,” Mick suggested.

  Megan shrugged as if having the honeymoon of her dreams was of no consequence, even though they’d only been able to afford a trip to Ocean City for a weekend when they’d first wed all those years ago.

  “That’s my own fault, not yours,” she told him. “Everything started coming together for the gallery right after the first of the year. There was no time to get away.”

  “And now?” he asked. “You think you could spare a little time for me?”

  “The gallery’s opened. My assistant’s trained. I suppose I could get away,” she said thoughtfully, then met his gaze with a sparkle in her eyes. “I’m quite sure that wasn’t an idle question, Mick O’Brien. What did you have in mind?”

  “A week in Paris,” he said at once. He pulled two tickets out of his pocket and set them on the table. “And before you get all worked up over me being presumptuous, note that they don’t have a date on them. We can go whenever you say the word.”

  Megan reached for his hand. “Who could have imagined that you could still learn a thing or two at this late date?”

  He laughed at that. “When the motivation’s powerful enough, a man can always learn something new. I hope Connor figures that out before it’s too late.”

  Megan’s previously lighthearted mood visibly darkened at his words. “Oh, Mick, I hope so, too, but there’s only so much you and I can do to make sure that happens. The rest is up to him and Heather.”

  Mick knew that, but nevertheless it went against the grain to leave something so important to chance.

  “You won’t object if I do a thing or two to nudge things along, will you?” he asked.

  She gave him a stern look. “Nudge all you want, but pay attention to the signs, Mick. When they’re all but shouting to back off, do it. I mean that.” She grinned at him. “And something tells me this is definitely an ideal time for me to get you out of town before you do something we’ll both regret. Make those reservations for Paris. I’ll try to keep you preoccupied over there, so Connor and Heather can have a little breathing room back here.”

  “A sneaky approach,” he said approvingly, “but you’re forgetting one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m great at multitasking.”

  Megan met his gaze, laughter lurking in her eyes. “Is that so?” she inquired softly as she deliberately ran her hand along the inside of his thigh. “Do you really want to bet that I can’t make you forget all about Chesapeake Shores, much less meddling?”

  Mick swallowed hard. Sadly, she had a point. The good news was that they were going to have one helluva time while she set out to prove it.

  2

  The combined efforts of the men in his family and his friends convinced Connor to make the drive to Chesapeake Shores on Saturday. He hadn’t been home since his parents’ wedding on New Year’s Eve. Though he’d made his peace with both Mick and even Megan, things seemed to go better between them when he kept his distance. Their capacity for meddling was beyond his for resisting. They’d made their opinions of his relationship with Heather crystal clear.

  The drive home had been pleasant for a change. Although the weather was especially mild for late March, it was too early for most of the tourists and weekenders who flocked to the small towns on the Chesapeake Bay later in the season.

  Arriving in Chesapeake Shores to discover all the hints that spring was just around the corner, he realized how much he missed being home. This time of year the town green was edged with beds of daffodils, the salty air of the bay beckoned and there was something special about the way the morning sun filtered through a haze and sparkled on the dew that covered the fresh green lawns.

  With temperatures hovering close to seventy, he actually had visions of taking his old rowboat out for a lazy day of fishing. Maybe he could even convince Kevin to come along. It had been ages since they’d spent an idle day out on the water together.

  Before heading toward home, he made the drive along Main Street, then turned right onto Shore Road. It was practically a ritual to take a tour of the town his father and uncles had built, to see what was happening. There were always one or two changes that caught him by surprise, especially in spring, when most new businesses chose to open in time for the summer tourist season.

  He spotted the “Open” flag fluttering outside his mother’s new art gallery and resolved to make his duty call there later in the day, since he’d missed the official opening. He was anxious to see if she was as knowledgeable about art as his father and the rest of the family seemed to think she was.

  Before he drove on, Connor caught a glimpse of another new store right next door. A beautiful handmade quilt hung in the window, a quilt, he realized with a sense of shock, that looked very familiar because it—or one exactly like it—had once hung on the wall in his townhouse. It was the one thing that had gone missing after Heather’s departure.

  Slamming on the brakes, he looked around until he spotted a parking place up the street. He swung into it, then tried to still the sudden racing of his heart. He knew that quilt because Heather had made it. He’d watched her in the evenings as she’d stitched every seam, quilted every square, while he’d been studying for his law school classes. He’d been captivated by the contentment on her face as she’d worked quietly, happy just to be in a room with him.

  Spotting that quilt in a store window shouldn’t throw him like this, he thought as he strode across the street. It shouldn’t matter to him that she’d apparently put it up for sale. But it did.

  It offended him to think that maybe she was giving it up because she needed cash. How much could a quilt bring in, anyway? He thought he’d been giving her generous support money for their son, enough for both of them really, but maybe it wasn’t covering expenses, after all. He knew, though, from their heated exchanges, that she was too proud to take more.

  Worse, of course, was the idea that she was selling the quilt because she couldn’t bear to look at it anymore, because it reminded her of him. Had she grown to hate him so much? It was true that most of their conversations recently had been brief and edgy, but he’d convinced himself they’d eventually move past the cool civility of late. Maybe that was just another of his many delusions where Heather was concerned, right up there beside the idea that she would change her mind and move back home with him.

  He glanced at the sign on the window, which he hadn’t noticed earlier: COTTAGE QUILTS. For some reason that struck a distant chord as well. Had Heather ever mentioned opening a shop like this one? Was it one of the dreams she’d had before setting them aside
to be with him? He’d known how much she’d hated teaching, but he couldn’t recall what she’d hoped to do instead once the baby was a bit older. That just reminded him of how many conversations they’d avoided over their years together. Anything involving the future had presented a minefield.

  Just then he saw and heard her, Heather, standing amid a sea of fabric with a customer, talking animatedly about which colors worked well together and which ones clashed. With a sense of shock, he realized that not only was her quilt for sale, but that she was working here. How had that happened? Filled with questions, he stood where he was, just outside the open door, and waited.

  When the customer left with a heavy bag filled with fabric, Connor stepped inside. Heather looked up, a smile on her face that faltered at the sight of him.

  “Connor,” she said, a catch in her voice. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

  “Chesapeake Shores is my home,” he reminded her, his own tone testy. “What the devil are you doing here?”

  She gestured around her. “What does it look like? I’ve opened a business.”

  A thousand questions came to mind, but he blurted only one. “This is yours?”

  She nodded, her expression defensive.

  “You opened a business here? In my town?” he said incredulously.

  She smiled at his reaction. “Actually if the town belongs to any one person, it would be your father, but I’m pretty sure it’s open to new residents.”

  “You didn’t think you needed to tell me you’d moved here?”

  “I would have as soon as we got settled. Getting this place open has taken a lot of my time.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re living with my folks,” he said, regarding her with suspicion, already sensing a plot afoot to throw them together. After all, wasn’t that exactly what his mother had hinted at her wedding, that she intended to see that he was next to walk down the aisle? And it would definitely explain the unexpected visit by all the men in the family the previous weekend and their push to drag him down here.