Wife and Mother Wanted (2 page)

‘Is that right?’

She nodded, desperately trying to hide her surprise. If the flash of interest in his eyes had shocked her, it had nothing on the hint of a smile that played around his mouth. The guy could actually crack a smile?

‘Well, in that case, I guess it’s useless me trying to help you find this missing Easter Bunny?’

‘He’s not missing. He pulled out at the last minute and has left me in the lurch—not to mention thirty of the local kids.’ She tried to ignore the sad feeling that suddenly swamped her, muttering, ‘The rat,’ under her breath at the same time.

Though her sadness had nothing to do with Peter exiting her life, but was for the fact that the kids looked
forward to the Easter pageant as much as she did and she hated to let them down.

‘By the expression on your face, it looks like that particular bunny is stewed the next time you see him.’

And then it happened.

Brody Elliott smiled and the effect was breathtaking—like the sun coming out from behind thunderous clouds, illuminating everything within its sphere and warming her in the same way, right down to her soul.

Trying to recover her wits, she said, ‘I won’t be seeing him. Not if he knows what’s good for him.’

His smile dimmed and he glanced away, looking uncomfortable. Jeez, this guy really needed to loosen up. If smiling made him feel bad, he needed to practise more often.

‘Sounds like you’re in a bind.’

His gaze returned to hers and he frowned again, the angry indentation between his brows slipping into place with ease. While nothing short of disastrous plastic surgery could mar his good looks, he appeared so much friendlier when he wasn’t glowering at the world.

‘Yeah. Though it’s the kids I feel for. They’ll be terribly disappointed if the Easter Bunny doesn’t show tomorrow.’

And nobody could relate to how they’d feel better than her. The nuns at the orphanage had talked up Santa’s impending visit for an entire month before Christmas, and though she’d been barely old enough to grasp the whole concept she’d looked forward to his arrival with the fervent passion of a child who had nothing else to look forward to.

Of course the man in the red suit with his treasure
trove of presents had never arrived, and she still remembered the acute emptiness that had made her sob her little heart out.

‘Anyway, enough of my troubles. It’s not like you’re going to volunteer to help me out or anything.’

Okay, so she was being more than a tad cheeky—but, hey, she was desperate, and if laying down a challenge to her grumpy neighbour in the hope that he would run with it could get her out of a fix, she’d do it.

His frown deepened as he fixed her with a surly stare. ‘You’re right. Seems like you’ve got me all figured out. So, on that note, I’ve got a lunch date with my daughter.’

Molly! She’d almost forgotten the whole reason behind this conversation, what with meeting the ogre—the very ogle-worthy ogre.

‘Speaking of Molly, I’d love it if she came over to play. She seems like a lovely little girl, and I’ve got loads of stuff she can check out in my garden—plus lots of stock from the shop.’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. Now, if you don’t mind, I really must go in.’

She did mind! What was with this guy? Didn’t he know when to loosen up? When to let his daughter have a little fun?

Granted, he didn’t know her, but anyone in town could vouch for her.

And, just like that, an answer to the placate-the-dad-help-the-daughter problem popped into her head.

‘Okay, I won’t keep you, but why don’t you bring Molly along to the Easter pageant? All the local kids will be there, and you can witness my kid-friendly skills
first-hand. It’s at my shop in the main street, eleven o’clock tomorrow morning. It will give Molly a chance to meet and mingle with some new friends.’
And it might give you a reason to chuckle
. Though, seeing the intense frown which deepened at her words, she doubted it.

‘I don’t know. I’m probably busy tomorrow.’

For Pete’s sake—Ouch! Poor choice of P word. Would she ever get through to him?

‘Eleven o’clock. Fey For Fun. Molly will love it.’ She wanted to add
be there or be square
, but didn’t think he’d appreciate a bit of high-school frivolity. In fact, she had a feeling her brooding new neighbour wouldn’t go in for frivolous at all.

‘Now I need to find me an Easter Bunny. See you tomorrow.’ She sent him an airy wave and walked away, biting back a grin at the final glower he sent her way.

So Brody Elliott was a grumpy grouch? She’d handled worse—like her adoptive father—and come away unscathed. She just hoped he’d do the right thing by Molly.

Though she’d only just met the little girl, it looked as if Molly could do with some TLC—and she’d happily volunteer to inject some fun into her life.

Now all she had to do was hope big, bad Brody would come to the party. Literally.

‘D
AD
! Wow, look at all the fairies and stuff. Isn’t this shop the coolest?’ Molly bounced through the front door of Fey For Fun and Brody followed reluctantly, wondering what on earth had prompted him to do this.

He had enough to worry about without wasting time with a bunch of kids he’d never met. Maybe he should be using the time to figure out how to raise his own child rather than secretly enjoying the brief taste of freedom from responsibility that the day would bring.

Glancing at his surroundings, he took in the filmy pink gauze draped around the shop, the silver stars spangling on a midnight ceiling and the staggering array of fairies, elves, goblins, wizards, frogs and princesses in every shape, texture and size.

If he’d been a kid he wouldn’t have wanted to leave this place. As a grown-up, he was intrigued by the enigmatic woman who ran it—and already berating himself for it. His meeting with Carissa Lewis yesterday had been brief, and he’d been his usual prickly self, yet something about her had piqued his interest and he’d found himself spending far too many hours last night thinking about his nosy neighbour.

He didn’t have the time or inclination to waste on another woman. Molly was the only female in his life these days, and he intended keeping it that way.

He sighed and looked at Molly, who flitted from one item to another in the shop, her face alight with delight. His precious daughter was a bundle of energy and a constant source of amazement, consternation and worry in his otherwise drab life, and he loved her to bits. He knew he fell short as a parent, and his constant guilt at causing the death of her mother was a burden that manifested itself in many ways—most of them directed at his beautiful daughter.

He’d turned into a taciturn grump, and as much as he’d like to change his ways he couldn’t. Guilt did that to a man—a terrible, all-consuming guilt that ripped at his soul on a daily basis, draining him till he had nothing left to give, no matter how much he wanted to.

Poor Molly. He sure as hell wouldn’t win any Father of the Year contests.

Now, to complicate matters, that interfering woman next door had practically challenged him to turn up here today and he’d jumped at it. How stupid could he be?

Real stupid, if his gut reaction was any indication as he caught a glimpse of his neighbour through a rear window, smiling and chatting with a group of kids as they sat on giant toadstools.

Carissa Lewis had a smile that could light up a room and, combined with the soft blonde curls framing her heart-shaped face, the guileless blue eyes and a cheeky dimple that could tempt a saint, she had him focussing on a woman in a way he hadn’t in a long time.

He’d initially been annoyed that she’d befriended Molly. His daughter had suffered enough loss in her brief life without growing attached to a woman who obviously could only offer a day’s entertainment. However, when he’d confronted Carissa, he’d been totally unprepared for his own reaction to the woman.

Awareness had flooded his body for the first time in years, making him more terse than usual. But instead of being scared off, as his abrupt manner made most people, she’d stood up to him with something akin to challenge in her fathomless blue eyes, and he’d been prompted to do all sorts of uncharacteristic things—like take her up on it. And here he was.

And though that seemed stupid to him right now, it had nothing on the stupidest decision of them all—the one where he’d pulled over a speeding driver all those years ago and let the kid go with a warning, only to stare into that cocky face just months later, when the jerk had been charged with vehicular manslaughter for killing Jackie, his wife, in a head-on collision while speeding again.

Yeah, that topped the list of dumbest things he’d ever done—and he’d been paying for it every day since.

‘Come on, Dad. I wanna meet the Easter Bunny, and Carissa’s calling us.’ His head snapped up as a loud tapping on the rear window brought him back to the present, and he ruffled Molly’s hair.

‘Sure thing, munchkin. Let’s go meet this bunny.’

However, as he led Molly into the quaint cottage garden at the back of the shop, and saw Carissa’s expression as she took a call on her mobile, all his old cop instincts screamed that there was something wrong.

‘There’s Jessie,’ Molly squealed. ‘She’s in my class at school. Can I go play with her, Dad?’

‘Go ahead, munchkin,’ he said, his gaze riveted to the storm of emotions clouding Carissa’s expressive face.

He shouldn’t get involved.

He didn’t want to get involved.

But it looked as if the matter might be taken out of his hands as Carissa hung up and turned to him with a stricken look on her face.

‘You came,’ she said, not looking particularly thrilled.

‘Yeah, it sounded like something Molly would like. Everything okay?’

To his amazement, Carissa shook her head, collapsed into the nearest chair, and looked as if she’d burst into tears at any second.

Oh-oh. Tears to him were like Kryptonite to Superman. He just couldn’t go there.

‘My stand-in bunny just pulled out. Old Mr Hill has a twisted bowel, or some such thing and won’t be here. Can you believe it? Those poor kids.’ She gazed out through the back window, looking so forlorn he wanted to pat her on the back and tell her everything would be okay.

‘Yeah, I guess they’ll be pretty disappointed.’ He knew Molly would be, and he hated that. His daughter had been let down enough in her lifetime.

‘Disappointed? They’ll be distraught!’ She jumped out of her chair and stalked to the window, staring out at the kids. ‘If only there was something I could do…’

And in that instant, as she whirled to face him with a maniacal gleam in her wide blue eyes, he knew that she’d hatched some crazy scheme and that, somehow, it involved him.

‘You!’ She jumped up and down on the spot like Molly did when she was really excited about something. ‘You can do it! You’re big enough for the bunny suit, you’re here—it’s the perfect solution.’

‘No way.’ He held up his hands to ward her off and backed up a few steps, wondering briefly if it was too late to make a run for it.

‘Come on.’ She latched onto his arm and dragged him towards the back room, leaving him little option but to follow. ‘We don’t have much time. The natives are getting restless. And you wouldn’t want to be responsible for disappointing all those cute little children now, would you?’

Damn, she was good.

How could he say no when she put it like that?

He couldn’t disappoint Molly. He wouldn’t.

And, by the clever glint in Carissa’s eyes, she’d known just the right buttons to push. His gaze skimmed over her, the simple outfit of white flowing trousers and pink fitted top accentuating her piquant beauty in its simplicity. On any other woman the combination would have looked plain. On her it looked stunning.

‘Hey!’ Carissa snapped her fingers in front of his face. ‘You better pay closer attention when you’re with the kids, otherwise they’ll whip those choccie eggs out of your basket in no time at all.’

‘Look, about the kids—’

‘Come on. We haven’t got long to get you dressed and into the garden at the back of the shop for the egg hunt.’ She opened a door to a back room and all but shoved him aside.

He should have blurted out any old excuse.

He should have slammed the door shut, locked it and bolted through the sole window.

Instead, at the first touch of her hand on his arm, all thought of abandoning her fled and he found himself staring at the giant pink and white bunny costume hanging on the back of the door and wondering what it was about this woman that made him want to jump through hoops.

‘Thanks for doing this. I really appreciate it,’ she said, unzipping the plastic covering over the suit and handing him a cotton tail. ‘Here—I’m sure you can do the honours with this.’

‘Just leave it,’ he snapped, the thought of her placing that cute little tail anywhere in the vicinity of his tail sending his blood pressure soaring.

Shame on you, Brody Elliott. Mind your manners
.

He blinked in surprise at the echo of his wife’s phrase. During their brief marriage he’d often felt like a gauche boy being chastised by the lady of the house, and any love he’d had for his society wife had soon waned while his love for Molly, the reason they’d married in the first place, had grown daily.

Everyone had been right. Jackie had made him pay for getting her pregnant—even though he’d used protection, and even though he’d done the right thing by her. Their marriage had been based on guilt right from the start. His guilt.

Guilt at ruining Jackie’s life, according to her snobby family.

Guilt at robbing her of a life on easy street if she’d married the right man from her socio-economic sphere.

Guilt at how much he’d blamed her for the loss of his freedom.

And, for the last four years, the gut-wrenching guilt that her death might have been prevented if he’d done things differently.

‘Hey, if you don’t want to do this I’ll understand,’ Carissa said, the concern in her eyes reaching out and enveloping him in a warm embrace, no matter how unwelcome.

Damn it! As a cop, he’d been a master of the poker face. In fact it had been one of the skills that had kept him at the top of his game. However, like everything else in his life, he’d let his job slide, and it looked as if his skills had followed suit.

Slipping his poor excuse for a poker face into place, he said, ‘I’m ready. Just leave me to it.’

Searching his face, she appeared satisfied and nodded. ‘I’ll wait for you outside. Just hop on out when you’re ready.’

And as he watched her walk out, struggling to keep his eyes averted from the way her butt moved beneath the soft white cotton of her pants and failing miserably, he wondered for the hundredth time in the last hour if he’d lost his mind.

Carissa was proud of her ability to read people. She’d mastered the skill from an early age, learning to blend into the background in the hope that she’d avoid drawing attention to herself and earning a harsh word or a cruel putdown from Ron in the process. Being able to blend in allowed her the freedom to observe people, to look, listen and pick up on non-verbal cues.

And now, as she watched Brody cavorting with the children as if he’d been born to the role of Easter Bunny, she had no idea what to make of her new neighbour.

‘Looks like your bunny is doing a good job with the kids,’ Tahnee, her younger sister, said, plopping into a garden chair next to her. ‘I didn’t know Pete had it in him.’

‘It’s not Peter.’ Carissa wrinkled her nose as if she’d just smelt something nasty. In this case,
eau de dumped
.

Tahnee’s astute gaze fixed on her in an instant. ‘Trouble in paradise?’

‘Being with Peter was never paradise,’ Carissa muttered, knowing she’d hung around their dead-end relationship for eight months for one reason and one reason only. Familiarity. And in her case it had definitely bred contempt.

‘Yay!’ Tahnee clapped her hands and bounced in her seat. ‘
Sayonara
to the loser. I knew he wasn’t worthy of you.’

‘Why didn’t you say something earlier?’

Tahnee rolled her eyes, the exact shade of blue as her own, and once again Carissa was struck by the likeness between the three Lewis girls. She thanked God that they’d found each other after all these years. In fact she would never have set up shop here in Stockton if it hadn’t been for Tahnee. When they’d been reunited, she’d been so thrilled to finally have a loving family again that she’d moved to the small town two hours north of Sydney just to be closer to her sister, who had lived here for years.

‘Because I don’t interfere in my sister’s relationships, much as I’d like to.’

‘Speaking of which, have you heard from Kristen?
Mick has spirited her away for a week in Perth before she heads back to Singapore and I haven’t heard from her.’

‘Another loser,’ Tahnee snorted. ‘Miserly Mick, that is. I bet Kristen’s the one springing for the holiday, not the other way around. That guy has long pockets and short arms when it comes to spending money.’

Carissa chuckled, but happened to agree with her sister. ‘As long as she’s happy.’

‘Mark my words—Kristen will be joining us in happy singledom in a few weeks if I’m not mistaken. Spending more than a few hours with that creep will open her eyes quick-smart.’

‘We’ll see,’ Carissa murmured, her attention suddenly diverted by the amazing sight of the Easter Bunny grappling with Timmy Fields, a gorgeous little blond boy who’d lost both parents recently and had had her silently crying for him in empathy.

‘Hey, Timmy. Take it easy on the Easter Bunny. You might pull his ears off.’

Though maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea. It might get Brooding Brody to listen to her for all of two seconds. He’d barely spoken more than a few words to her since they’d met, and she still hadn’t convinced him to let Molly spend some time with her.

That little girl needed some attention, and she was just the woman to give it to her. From her dishevelled appearance to her defiant attitude, Molly craved affection—and if her father spoke to her like he did to everyone else, Lord help her!

‘So who’s in the bunny costume?’ Tahnee unwrapped a chocolate Easter egg and popped it in her mouth.
‘Mmm…heaven. Actually, I should’ve known it wasn’t Pete. This bunny is way too tall and broad-shouldered to be Puny Pete.’

‘Meet Brody Elliott—my new neighbour.’

Tahnee sat up so quickly she almost tipped out of her chair. ‘
The
Brody Elliott?’

‘Uh-huh. Heard of him?’

‘Heard of him?’ Tahnee’s voice rose and Carissa shushed her. ‘Sis, where have you been hiding? Don’t you listen to the Stockton grapevine?’

‘I don’t usually have the time.’

‘Your loss.’

Okay. So maybe she could make an exception in this case. ‘So tell me about
the
Brody Elliott, anyway.’

Tahnee leaned closer and dropped her voice to an almost-whisper, no mean feat for her loud, brash sibling. ‘He’s an ex-cop, lived in Sydney his whole life. Has a real bad-boy reputation. Knocks up some society chick, marries her, has a child he adores. Then the wife dies, about four years ago, when the girl is a toddler, and he’s raised her on his own since. Carries a huge chip on his shoulder—like he blames the world for his problems.’