Barefoot by the Sea (30 page)

The only thing that really surprised him was how much he wanted to hurry the process. Not because they didn’t have much time until the fake wedding that he now wanted to be real. But because of how much he wanted to be
with
her.

He washed his face, brushed his teeth, grabbed a pair of jeans, and stuck his feet into sneakers. He was halfway across the gardens before he even bothered to tie them.

He crossed the garden, following the sound of the tractor to the opposite end of the fields, and stopped to stare at the sight. The sun had yet to cross the horizon, but a yellow glow lit the tips of the palm and oak trees along the eastern border of the property, the morning clouds washed gold and pink. Silhouetted against that backdrop, Tessa rolled along on a small tractor, her back ramrod straight, her hair blowing, a look of strength and invincibility visible on her face even from this distance.

Yes, he wanted to be with her. With her, next to her, in her bed, and in her life. The tableau punched him, stealing his breath for a moment. He tried to take another step but couldn’t, captivated by the sight of her, the purity of her spare moves as she looked over her shoulder. Behind her, whatever tool she had attached to the tractor plowed up a wake of churning leaves and dirt.

Inside him, more muscles coiled with desire—and affection. It was like she’d crawled right under his skin and taken up residence there. As if she sensed him there, she turned, and the engine hitched in speed like Ian’s pulse.

For a long time they just looked at each other across the field. Then he made his way toward her, over dirt and sprays of bright-green vegetable leaves. When he was a few feet away from the tractor, she gave his bare torso a once-over, shaking her head.

“Damn, dude, you don’t play fair.”

He resisted the urge to tell her everything he’d decided, because he still had to take this idea one baby step at a time. First, he needed to get back to where they were before he fell apart last night.

“Somebody was plowing at five-thirty in the morning. I’m not awake enough for a shirt.”

She studied him, no doubt aware that she’d never heard his bike return. “What is that welt on your cheek?”

He touched the bite. “Mosquito. I crashed outside.”

“Are you crazy?”

He nodded. “’Fraid so.”

She gestured toward the dirt behind her. “So, you too wiped out to help me? I’m running late and once I get these vines torn up, I need to start getting as many potatoes picked and into the storehouse as possible.”

“Late? It’s barely sunrise. What are you late for?”

“I need to be somewhere at eight,” she said vaguely, then glanced at the sunny sky. “And the potatoes can’t be in the hot sun once we cut the vines, so anything I cut has to be harvested and put away in the storehouse. Thus, I’m in a hurry.”

“I’ll help,” he said quickly. “Tell me what to do.”

She pointed behind her tractor to the plowed row. “Dig up the sweets. As soon as I finish this I’ll help, but if we can get one row done, I’ll be happy.”

“What about the other two rows?”

She glanced toward them, sighing. “I’ll get them eventually.”

He reached to her, still not ready to gloss over what had transpired. “Tessa, are you all right? With everything I told you last night—”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, frowning. “You’re the one I’m worried about.”

“I’m better than fine. And I want to talk, okay?”

She considered that for a moment, then shook her head. “Not now. I don’t want to get distracted. I’ve put these sweets off for too long. I’ve put a lot of things off for too long,” she added.

What did that mean? But he took her cue and didn’t ask; instead went off to find a faded wood bushel basket and carried it to the end of the plowed row, kneeling down to brush dirt off the hefty yams and toss them into the basket. After a while, he looked up, watching her maneuver her tractor.

Funny how he’d mistakenly thought she was a vulnerable woman. She was strong and independent. She could probably handle anything.

Could she handle a life in the government protection program? Raising children who weren’t hers? Leaving her friends, who were her whole family?

Doubts pressed like the sun as it rose. When should he tell her if not now?

When she finished plowing, she got another pile of baskets and started at the other end of the row, too far away to really talk intimately until they met in the middle.

“Ever work on a farm before, John?” she called.

Yeah, in the Cotswolds, at his uncle’s farm. He could say that. He could start there.
You know, I used to live in England.

“Now and again,” he said when she glanced up at him because he’d taken so long to answer.

“I love farming,” she said, the meaningless small talk suddenly taking on much more meaning.

Would she love farming on the other side of the planet—with him? “I noticed.”

“Yeah, much to my lawyer mother’s dismay. I wandered into it by accident, but it suits me so well. Have you always been passionate about cooking?”

What was she doing? Making conversation or trying to get him to open up? Either way, she was throwing a door wide open for him to walk through.

“Not always,” he said. “I like other things.”

She looked up from her work. “Like what?”

Finance, stocks and bonds, business, numbers, spreadsheets, and investments. Damn, he’d been good at it, too. “Played a little football when I was young,” he said when too much time had passed.

“What position?”

He opened his mouth to say goalie, but shit. She thought he meant American football. He pictured the field and picked a position. Should he say quarterback? That would be another lie. Should he—

She stood up suddenly. “Never mind, John.” She gave him a tight smile. “You can throw those in the storehouse for me and leave the tractor here. I really need to be there when the doors open.”

“You’re shutting me down, aren’t you? You don’t want to hear about my…my life, do you?”

She backed away. “Another time, okay? I know you understand.”

No, he did
not
understand. He’d finally broken the barrier and was ready to trust her and she was off to some appointment? “I want to tell you.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to know, John.”

“Why not?”

“Because…because I don’t want to get close to your heart and know your past and understand your pain and still not…” She stopped, waving her hand.

“Still not what?” He didn’t follow where she was going.

“Don’t you get it?”

“Get what?”

“I don’t
want
to fall in love with you.” She tipped her head good-bye and took off across the field, slipping off her gardening gloves and stuffing them into her back pocket.

“But I want to fall in love with you,” he whispered but didn’t follow her.

He’d have to show her, not tell her, how he felt.

Tessa went straight to Lacey’s house after her miserable failure at the clinic that morning, aching to cry on her best friend’s shoulder. But there was no room on either shoulder; one had a baby, the other a cell phone.

Lacey nearly melted with relief at the sight of Tessa, handing her the baby and mouthing, “It’s Willow from the AABC.” Her eyes pleaded for help, underscoring how important the call was. “Oh, we can definitely arrange that,” Lacey said into the phone, the voice of efficiency as she walked away, leaving Tessa holding the one thing in the world she wasn’t sure she could handle right that minute.

“Hey, shrimp,” she whispered to the baby as he gave her a slow, toothless smile. Wait, what was that she spied in his gums? “A pearly white, Elijah?” He grinned, as if proud of the first millimeter of tooth he’d grown.

She squeezed the little body, a rock-solid twenty pounds of chunk and charm. Some drool slipped out of the corner of his mouth, and Tessa wandered into the family room, snagging a hand towel from the top of a basket of folded laundry.

As she dabbed his face, she dropped onto the sofa, trying to snuggle, but Elijah only wanted to stand.

“I gotchya, don’t worry,” she whispered, letting him lock his wobbly baby legs. Standing firm on her thighs with a death-grip on her thumbs, he let out a soft giggle of joy.

Love and longing and no small amount of unfettered envy ripped through her chest. “Enough of that holding stuff, huh? You’re Mr. Independent.”

His head bobbled a little, along with one leg, but he got his balance and grinned, one huge dimple making her let out a little moan. She couldn’t resist pulling him close and nuzzling his neck to sniff that powdery, precious, sweet smell, and got a little dribble on her face.

Really, there ought to be a law against being forced to hold a five-month-old baby an hour after the lady at the fertility clinic—or the infertility clinic, as the case may be—showed you a list of completely unacceptable surrogate options and announced it could be a year or more until the perfect one came along, so would you like your deposit back?

No, damn it. She wanted a baby, not a repayment of her deposit.

“But your eggs are frozen, so what’s the rush?” She imitated Maryann’s preternaturally bright and cheery voice, tilting her head from one side to the other. The high pitch made Elijah laugh, and she pulled him close again and kissed his cheek, hating the burn behind her eyes.

“I’m tired of waiting, Elijah,” she admitted into his rolls of baby neck fat.

A door slammed, making Elijah startle and Tessa turn to the kitchen to see Ashley come in from the garage, earbuds in, backpack sailing toward the kitchen table with a thud.

“Hey, Ash,” Tessa said.

But the music must have been too loud, because she didn’t look up but let out a little shudder, wiping her eyes.

“Ashley! Are you crying?”

That got her attention, making her whip out the earbuds and blink in surprise. “What are you doing here, Aunt Tess?”

“I stopped by to talk to your mom.” When Ashley glanced around, a flash of guilt in her expression, Tessa stood. “She’s in her office. What’s going on?”

At the sight of his older sister, Elijah let out a soft cry, squirming to get to her.

Ashley shook her head like she didn’t want any part of him, then softened at the second cry, reaching out. “Hey, doughnut hole.” She gave a shaky smile to Tessa. “That’s my secret name for him. Munchkin is too obvious.”

She took the baby in a surprisingly natural move, getting close enough for Tessa to confirm she’d been crying, even though she tried to hide her face in the same folds of baby neck Tessa had been snuggling.

“Want to talk?” Tessa asked.

“No. Yes. Oh, Aunt Tess.” She squeezed the baby closer. “I’ll cry on my brother’s shoulder.”

“What is it?” Tessa reached for her, a bunch of possibilities jumping through her mind, but she already knew what Ashley was going to say.

“He broke up with me.”

She had to fight not to sigh in relief. “Aw, Ash. I’m sorry.”

Looking up from her hiding place behind Elijah’s head, Ashley’s eyes tapered. “Are you?”

“I’m sorry you’re hurt.”

She glanced toward the hall. “Is she good and involved on the phone or something?”

“Completely involved.” Tessa urged her down to the sofa. “Tell me what happened.”

She sat, situating the baby on her lap, stroking his little face tenderly as she considered her words. “He dumped me. By text.”

“What a jerk.”

“No, it’s—”

“He’s a jerk,” Tessa said. “Don’t try and defend a text dump.”

That made her smile at the same time her eyes filled. “’Kay. It’s shitty.”

“Utterly. What did he say?”

She screwed up her face. “The usual. I’m too clingy. He’s too busy. We want different things from a relationship. He wants freedom but we can be friends with—” She stopped herself and let her forehead lean against Elijah’s, looking him in the eye. “You ever offer that to a girl and I’ll kill you, little dude. You are not going to be one of those guys.”

“Not with you as such a loving sister,” Tessa said. “You’ll be fine, Ash. Better.”

“I know, I know.” She swallowed hard. “I should never have…”

Oh, Tessa hated the unfinished sentences. She wanted to ask, but really didn’t have the right. “Regret doesn’t get you anything,” she said.

“You sound like Aunt Jocelyn,” she said. “She’s got one of those motivational quotes for everything.”

“That’s ’cause I’m trying not to say what I’m thinking.”

Ashley’s jade eyes met hers. “You can. I want you to.”

“Okay. You were in deep, Ash, and now you’re out.”

“But being in deep felt so good, Aunt Tess.” She let out a dramatic sigh, as only Ashley could do. “It was so nice to have someone focus on me and nothing else.”

“You sure it’s over, or is this one of those break-up-four-times-before-it’s-really-over things?”

“It’s over.” She handed the baby to Tessa. “I need to eat chocolate. Or potato chips. Or both at the same time.”

Tessa laughed softly. “I think you’re going to rebound fast, kiddo.”

“Hope so. How about you? How’s it going with Chef Hottie?”

“About as well,” she admitted glumly, bouncing Elijah as he started to fuss. “I think he…what did you say? He wants different things from a relationship.”

Ashley nodded knowingly. “Blows. And you have to pretend to marry him.” She crinkled her nose. “
Awk
ward,” she sang.

“You have no idea.”

“Is that you, Ash?” At the sound of Lacey’s voice Elijah let out a little wail, squiggling around to find her.

Ashley squeezed Tessa’s arm. “Please, not a word. It doesn’t make any difference now and I’ve learned my lesson, believe me.”

Tessa lost the fight to keep Elijah once he locked on his mommy-target. He made a cooey, gooey, gummy sound that gave Lacey a huge smile as she practically ran into the room.