Project: Parenthood. Trish Wylie
to her that everyone else took a lot longer to walk around her open-plan kitchen. But Brendan was so damned tall that he seemed to get everywhere in two long, confident steps. She’d forgotten over the years just how tall he was.
He certainly was way head and shoulders above her shoeless five foot seven. When he was around she had always had moments where she felt feminine. Maybe even a little small and damselish.
‘So, what are you going to do if you won’t accept some help?’
Good question.
‘I don’t know.’ She frowned again as the words came out all small and helpless. This really had to stop. ‘But I’m going to have to think of something until I can track down Eimear.’
‘And you’ve definitely tried everywhere?’
She’d told him as much when she’d rung to check on the children during the day, so the question brought her back up again.
‘No, I only rang the once and then gave up.’ Raising her hands to her hips, she tilted her head and stared at his back with a deadpan expression.
The sarcasm rolled right over him. ‘What about her friends?’
She sighed a resigned sigh. What was the point in being stroppy with him after all? It was hardly his fault. ‘No help. They only know that Mac took her on a romantic break somewhere on the Ring of Kerry.’
‘Somewhere that doesn’t have a phone so she could check on her kids?’
Which, had Teagan had her wits about her, she could have cured by taking the damn hotel details. Not that she’d thought about it while she was being so deftly hoodwinked. ‘They need some time alone.’
Brendan shook his head. ‘I don’t understand people like that.’
He wouldn’t, would he? Not this guy who had the kind of simple, easy, charmed existence that Teagan herself had only ever seen at the movies. He couldn’t possibly understand why Eimear would be so desperate to save her second marriage if it was in trouble. If he ever got round to getting married it would no doubt be roses and violins the whole damn time.
A bubble of anger grew in her stomach. He knew nothing. She’d bet that nothing more troublesome than running out of milk had ever happened in his life. Not that she’d taken the time to ask since they’d been thrown into each other’s paths again. It was really none of her business after all.
With his cup rinsed and set on the drainer, he turned and looked back at her face. He went silent for a moment when he saw the spark of anger in her eyes. Even after their years apart he still knew the warning signs of an impending argument. She was obviously as angry at her sister as he would have been, given the same circumstances, but she refused to hear a bad word spoken about her.
With a shrug, he let it drop. ‘Well, you know where I am if you need a hand.’
Oh, she knew, all right. Right across the street. Right under her nose. To remind her every day of all the reasons she had to stay well away from him. Especially if there was ever any mistletoe in sight. Teagan had the memory of an elephant.
‘Thanks for looking after them today.’
‘No problem.’ He frowned for a second, deep in thought, poised on the balls of his feet as if he might step forward again. Then he simply smiled a small smile and walked the two paces it took for him to get to her back door. ‘I have some work to clear up at home tomorrow, so I’ll be around if you need a hand.’
‘Okay. Thanks again.’ Though even as she said the words she knew she would do everything in her power to make sure she didn’t have to make that call.
After the door closed behind him, she stood in the same place for a long while. The house was silent, bar the background noise from the television in her front room. If it hadn’t been for that noise to remind her she wasn’t alone she might have allowed herself to wallow in the moment of loneliness she felt.
But it wasn’t because of him, she reminded herself. It was just the way she’d probably always felt but had never really allowed herself to acknowledge. It was an emptiness inside that she’d taken years to control and to bury—even from herself, it seemed.
Part of her truly hated him for the fact that he had reminded her it was there. That it might have been well hidden but it hadn’t gone away. Maybe never would.
She wasn’t the only one who fought it, though, she guessed.
Although right at that moment she may have wanted to kill her sister for taking this trip of hers, and inconvenient timing as it was, she couldn’t hate her for it. Because she understood.
Eimear was probably fighting her own version of that hollowness, and having her children obviously wasn’t enough on its own. She wanted the whole shebang—wanted a man by her side, to be made to feel loved and safe. While Teagan had chosen to find the solution in her career and a modicum of financial security.
Teagan didn’t doubt for a second that she would be back soon. Eimear hadn’t abandoned her children; she’d just set them to one side while she tried to fix her second attempt at marriage.
Teagan herself would never have set her own children to one side for a man, moot point though that was. She’d made her choices. She was the stronger one of the two of them—the one who got on with it, alone. As she’d just have to get on with it this time.
She’d just have to find a way to do it without Brendan McNamara’s help. She didn’t need a constant reminder of how close she could have come to being like her sister in seeking happiness through some guy. Even when that guy’s presence still stirred up a memory in her that she’d never really been able to shift.
No, she would never allow herself to rely on someone else for her own happiness. Could never expect to find love as it was described in the movies. Because it just didn’t exist. Teagan knew that, even if Eimear didn’t.
But then Teagan remembered more than her little sister. She’d made sure of that. It was her job to do everything she could to ensure Eimear was happy.
If that meant playing at being Mummy then that was what she would do. Other women coped, balancing careers with families.
Teagan was a mature, capable woman. She could deal with problems when they arose. Could manage her time.
It was only for a couple more days. Eimear had said a few days. And she’d survived two already.
She’d just have to find a way to survive another two. Without Brendan McNamara.
CHAPTER THREE
BRENDAN smiled through his window as he watched her bundle the children out through her door and into her car.
She looked harassed again. Sleek, shoulder-length dark hair flying into her face as she moved from car door to car door. Even the movements of her slight figure were jerky, hurried, while she brushed at her hair with an irritated hand.
His smile grew. Thing was, even from across the street he could see that that ruffled-round-the-edges look suited her. It was sexy. It reminded him of how sexy she’d been at twenty-one. Though he’d bet serious money she wouldn’t believe him if he told her.
Not that he was likely to.
He wasn’t going to even allow himself to touch on the subject of how she’d looked back then. Even Shannon, with her cover-girl blonde looks, hadn’t affected him the way that Teagan could with one flick of her long dark hair or a flash of dimples when she smiled. She’d been tough to forget.
But she was determined to do without his help. Something he should have been happy about. If only from a work point of view. And it wasn’t as if she’d shown any real enthusiasm to spend a great amount of time in his company since he’d moved in across the road from her.
That should have been enough of a hint for him to leave it alone. But somehow all