The Courage To Love (Love On The North Shore) (7 page)

She shrugged. She’d seen the no vacancy sign out front, so she knew there were no rooms available tonight. Then again, the guy in the foyer hadn’t said he was checking in and he didn’t have any luggage. “He didn’t say he wanted a room, but he did ask for you by name.”

Sean stood and rubbed his forehead. “Thanks. I’ll take care of it.”

With her message delivered, Mia wandered toward the kitchen. While Sean handled the visitor she’d make coffee and then maybe visit with him for a while. She’d had enough solitude for the day. Besides, Maureen was due home at any time, and then they could go out. Now that she realized how late it was, she was starving. She’d just popped an individual coffee packet in the single cup machine when she heard Sean’s raised voice.

“Get out of here. Now.” Controlled anger radiated from his voice.

Curiosity piqued, she left the coffee behind and went through the swinging door into the dining room. The visitor looked unaffected by Sean’s command. Sean on the other hand appeared ready for battle. His legs were braced apart, his hands formed fists by his sides, and his jaw was working overtime on grinding his teeth to dust.

When the visitor took a few steps closer to Sean, Mia figured he was either stupid or blind. If someone who looked like Sean glared at her that way, she’d run the other way and not look back.

“I just want to talk, son.” The man stopped only an arm’s length away from Sean, his voice calm.

Mia now realized why he’d looked so familiar: he was an older version of Sean.

Sean had walked into the foyer expecting a solicitor or maybe even a reporter. Even now, a year after his sister’s marriage into the Sherbrooke family, they stopped by from time to time. When he spotted the man waiting for him, though, rage consumed him. Although much older than he remembered, Sean recognized him immediately.

“I said leave.” He tensed the muscles in his upper arm and forced himself not to take a swing at his father. At any moment a guest could walk in; finding him in a fight would be disastrous.

“A son should show his father a little more respect.”

His head filled with red, his body and brain stopped communicating with each other and he took a step forward. From somewhere outside his body he registered that he’d raised his fist, prepared to do the one thing he’d dreamed of doing for the past eighteen years. Through the boiling rage in his head, he felt something warm and soft on his forearm. Slowly, his brain identified the object as a hand on his arm and he stopped in mid-swing toward his father’s face.

“You’re not welcome here.” He’d like nothing more than to open the door and kick his father’s ass out, but the last thing the bed and breakfast needed was a lawsuit.

His father glanced over at Mia who stood next to him, her hand still on his arm was a reminder that he was running a business.

“I’ll leave, but, Sean, all I want to do is talk.” His father nodded toward Mia. “Maybe your girlfriend can convince you to listen.”

A swear-laden retort sat on his tongue, but he kept it from spilling out. Instead he stood frozen as his father walked out of the door, taking him back eighteen years to the last time he’d seen his father walk out the very same door.

It had been the morning of the homecoming football game his senior year. His mother and sister were already in the kitchen eating breakfast, but he’d just come downstairs. Although his father occasionally worked Saturdays, Sean thought he would come to his game that afternoon. Not only was he the captain and starting quarterback, but the team had been undefeated so far that season. Rumor had it that recruiters from the University of Florida would be there today. Already Boston College had shown interest in him and his fellow teammate, Tony Bates. While Tony planned to accept a scholarship from Boston College if they offered, he’d been more interested in the University of Florida. More than anything, he longed to get away from North Salem.

When he questioned his father that morning, he’d only gotten a “can’t make it today maybe next week.” Although disappointed, he brushed it off. That afternoon his team crushed the team from Danvers, and recruiters from the University of Florida had spoken to him right before he and Amy Osborne, the captain of the cheerleading squad, were crowned homecoming king and queen.

He went to the dance that night with Amy glued to his side. They’d snuck out of the dance early and had their own little homecoming celebration inside the refreshment stand near the football field. Sometime well after midnight he came home, and his mother’s car was the only one in the driveway. Both his mom and sister were asleep, but a snack sat on the kitchen table for him. It wasn’t the first time he’d come home late and his father wasn’t around. If the rumors were true, his father was seeing a waitress from The Oyster Box, a restaurant in the next town over.

Sean had been hearing rumors about his father and two uncles since he was fifteen. Deep down, he knew they were true, but he always pushed them into the deep recesses of his mind. Whenever he let them come up, guilt plagued him. If the rumors were true, his mother had the right to know. At the same time, he told himself it wasn’t his place to tell her. Besides, more than likely she heard the rumors around town, too. Gossip spread like wildfire around North Salem. If she had heard them and chose to stay with her husband anyway, it wasn’t any of his business, so he kept his mouth shut.

The next morning when he came down to breakfast, his father’s car was still absent—and that day his life had been altered forever. A whole week passed before anyone heard from Seamus O’Brien again. Via a short phone call, he informed his family that he’d moved to Florida and wanted a divorce. He hadn’t asked to speak with either of his children. Instead he’d asked for some of his possessions to be shipped to him. Since then, Sean had seen his father once. The day he’d accompanied his mother to the courthouse for the divorce proceedings.

“Are you okay?”

Mia’s voice pulled Sean back to the present. He roughly scrubbed a hand across his face and shoved the memories back into their little box. “Yeah. Thank you. You kept that scene from getting ugly.”

Mia gave him a small shrug. “Don’t mention it. I’m just glad I could help.” She smiled at him and his heart all but flipped in his chest.

“I can’t—” Sean began to say but paused when he heard footsteps.

“Sean, are you done with the computer in the office?”

“Don’t tell her about that. She doesn’t need to know.” He kept his voice low as the swinging door between the kitchen and dining room opened. “All set, Ma. Do whatever you need.”

“Have you two already eaten? If not, I can make you something.” His mother stopped in the dining room entrance.

The rage that had overwhelmed him when he saw his father increased another few notches when he thought of how easily his mom could have walked in on all that. Biting back another curse, he shook his head. In his current state, eating was out of the question. “I—”

“We might go out later,” Mia said before he could finish. She slid her hand down his forearm and wrapped her fingers around his fist. “We were just waiting for you to come home.”

He knew he didn’t imagine the spark of pleasure he saw on his mom’s face. Mia’s earlier invitation had evaporated from his mind with the appearance of his father.

“If you do, have fun. I’ll see you both later.” She didn’t ask any more questions. Instead she disappeared the way she’d come in.

“Excuse me.” If Mia said anything he didn’t hear her. He pulled away and headed for the basement and the punching bag hanging down there.

His right fist hit the bag and the beam holding it up creaked. Immediately he swung his left arm, making contact with the bag before it swung back toward him. Focused on his fists hitting the stand-in for his father, he didn’t realize anyone had followed him down until he heard the creak of the bottom step. That step had creaked for as long as he could remember, no matter what he did to it.

“Does that help?” She kept a good distance away from the swinging punching bag.

Not one damn bit. “I’m sorry about the scene up there.” He didn’t want her or any other guest leaving a bad review on some website because his deadbeat dad decided now was a good time to make an appearance.

“It wasn’t your fault. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about it.”

She moved a few steps closer, and the slightest hint of perfume, or maybe her shampoo, tickled his nose. He noticed it upstairs in the foyer as well. It reminded him of the beach and the ocean.

“I’m ready to go, unless you changed your mind.”

Sean raked his hand through his hair as the bag continued to swing. “You don’t want to be around me tonight.” Hell, he didn’t want to be around himself. “I’m sorry. Maybe some other time.” If his buddies ever learned he turned down a night out with Mia Troy, they’d think he’d gone nuts, and probably at some point in the future he’d be kicking himself in the ass for doing it. Right now, however, it seemed like the right thing.

He waited for her to tell him it was now or never and march back up the stairs. Instead she took a seat on the bench near his free weights.

“When I’m angry I call my older sister, Avery, and we have a bitch fest. Doesn’t usually solve anything, but it makes me feel better.”

Sean smirked. “A bitch fest? I doubt that will help here.”

“You never know. Why don’t you have a seat and give it a try.” Mia patted bench next to her. “I promise I won’t bite, and I’m a good listener.”

A little of the anger in his chest dissolved as he laughed at Mia’s comment. The woman was like none of the other celebrities that had stayed at The Victorian Rose. “I think a beer would be more helpful than a bitch fest. Do you want one?”

When she nodded he led her over to the finished portion of the basement where he kept his pool table and refrigerator as well as a card table and several folding chairs. Grabbing two bottles from the refrigerator, he popped off the tops and handed her one. “Sorry, I don’t keep any glasses down here.”

Accepting the bottle, she walked over to the pool table and ran a hand along its side. “You were hitting that bag pretty hard. Do you box or something?”

He leaned against one of the columns that braced the ceiling. “No. But I have always found the bag a good way to get rid of anger.”

Mia nodded before she took a tiny sip. “You could have done some serious damage to that guy at the block party.”

“I had a sensei who drilled into us the importance of avoiding fights whenever possible. He said we should only use physical violence as a last resort. I try to remember that . . .” He raised the bottle toward his mouth. “But if you hadn’t stopped me tonight, I wouldn’t have cared.”

“Have your parents been divorced long?”

Sean took a long swallow from his beer before he answered. “About eighteen years now.” He watched as Mia lifted the bottle to her mouth and took a sip. The celebrity actress he’d seen on countless magazine covers looked like someone who would sit sipping fruity cocktails with tiny umbrellas. Yet the woman standing in front of him, wearing jeans, looked natural holding a bottle of his favorite beer.

“My parents almost got a divorce when I was fifteen. They were separated for six months before they went to couple’s therapy.” She picked up one of the solid balls on the pool table. “I was so angry at them. Especially my mom. I didn’t talk to her for a month.”

He listened, waiting for her to get to her point.

“How long have you been fighting with your dad?” she asked, letting the ball slide out of her hand.

“We’re not fighting.” To say they were fighting insinuated they had some kind of father-son relationship.

“You yelled at him to leave. Sounds like fighting to me.”

“That’s the first time I’ve spoken to the as—” Sean caught himself just in time “—guy in about eighteen years.”

“Oh,” Mia said, her eyes growing wide. “I’m . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“Ma doesn’t need to know he was here.” His mother never mentioned her ex-husband and Sean didn’t know how she would react if she knew he’d been there. After Seamus O’Brien walked out on them, she’d changed, and it had taken years for her to become more like the mother he remembered from his childhood. He didn’t want some unexpected visit from the no good bastard to upset her and destroy all the progress she’d made.

“I promise she won’t hear anything from me, Sean.”

Perhaps it was the sincerity in Mia’s voice, but he believed her. If somehow his mother heard his father was in town, it wouldn’t be from the woman in front of him. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Mia took another sip of her beer and then placed the nearly full bottle on the card table. “Do you play often?” She inclined her head toward the pool table.

He wished she would stop jumping from topic to topic like that. “Not as much as I used to.”

“I’ve always wanted to try.” She walked over to where the pool sticks hung on the wall and took one off the rack. “What do you say? Can you give me a lesson?”

Remarkably, the rage that had ruled his entire body was more like a simmering anger now. In its place was rampant curiosity and a physical attraction to the beautiful woman on the other side of the pool table. The one he wanted to pull into his arms and kiss.

She accepted the square of chalk he held out to her and applied it to the end of the pool stick as Sean instructed her while he arranged the balls in the triangle on the table. She could still see the tension in his shoulders, but he no longer looked about to explode. His face had returned to its normal shade, and she no longer feared he might crush his teeth. She wondered what the story was between Sean and his father. She’d never seen anyone react to a parent like that before. Sure she’d been known to get into disagreements with her parents, especially her mom, but she’d never toss either of them out of her house.