Honeysuckle Bride. Tara Randel
better view of the moon shining over the calm waters of the Gulf of Mexico. He hadn’t realized how on edge he was until the soothing sound of waves lapping against the sand relaxed him in slow degrees.
Heels tapping against the stone path drew his attention from the water. He turned, surprised and pleased to see Jenna walking his way. Pleased indeed.
She held out a bottle. “You left this behind.”
“Thanks, but I don’t want it.”
She lifted a quizzical brow.
Did he really need to explain himself? Probably. A stubborn part of him wanted to tell her to leave him alone, but the tired part of him wanted to talk to someone. Talk to her. So he started, haltingly at first.
“When my son died, I thought it would be easy to get lost in a bottle. You know, just forget.” He shoved his hands in his pants pockets and shrugged in an attempt to make light of the situation. “Funny thing is, I don’t really like to drink. So it never helped me not remember Jamie.”
“That was your son’s name? Jamie?”
“Yes.” Emotion clogged his throat. “You’d think after two years I could say my son’s name without getting choked up, but apparently not.”
“You miss him.”
“Every day with every breath.”
In the garden’s soft light, he saw Jenna’s rapid blinking. Was she fighting back tears? See, she got it.
“He was a great kid,” Wyatt went on. “Full of life. Loved adventure.”
“So Jamie wouldn’t want you to drown your sorrows in a bottle.”
“Probably not any more than your friend would want you to.”
“Carrie,” she said just above a whisper. “My friend’s name.”
As if by silent agreement, they strolled farther away from the building. Away from the music and numerous voices, heading toward a large magnolia tree with a bench positioned beneath. Pink luminous blooms dotted the limbs in the dark night. Wyatt bent over to pick up a fallen flower and handed it to her.
Their fingers brushed in the exchange. He lingered, enjoying the touch of her smooth skin. It had been a long time since he’d touched anyone. At Jenna’s shiver, he let his hand drop.
They took a seat on the cool wrought-iron bench, leaving a wide space between them.
“Most people don’t want to talk about Jamie,” he said. “They find it awkward or think I’m not ready.”
Jenna tilted her head and regarded him. “Do you think you’re ready?”
“Sometimes it feels good to say his name. But other times...” he took a deep breath.
“I know what you mean. I find I have to walk a fine line with the twins. Sometimes we all have a good laugh over a shared memory, but other times the memories make us cry.”
“I guess it’s all part of the grieving process.”
An uneasy silence lapsed again. Jenna broke it first. “So instead of becoming a drinker, you decided to become a brooding, sullen loner?”
He opened his mouth to argue but Jenna held up her hand. “It’s not my opinion. I’m only repeating what I’ve heard.”
Was that what people thought of him? Sullen? Brooding? Okay, the brooding loner part was probably true. “Fair enough.”
Was this what he’d let his life become? A ghost walker during the day. Going through the motions of his job without any effort. Cutting ties with family and friends. Shoot, Jenna and the girls were the only people to visit him in weeks.
Not a very flattering picture, if he did say so himself.
He was so mired in his thoughts that Jenna startled him when she spoke again. “I have to say, I’m surprised you showed up tonight.”
“So am I. After the promise of food, I had to come.” He grinned. “I tasted your masterpiece and I gotta say, you did the mac and cheese crowd proud. And this is coming from a mac and cheese connoisseur.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” She frowned. “But to be honest, meeting all these people is a bit overwhelming. I’m not usually comfortable in big crowds.”
“Something we have in common.” He noticed she still held the bottle. “Want me to take that?”
“No. I guess I should head back inside.” She stood. “I’ll take it with me.”
He stood as well, sorry the brief interlude had ended so soon. Who would have thought diving into the waves after a little girl would lead to meeting a woman he actually wanted to talk to?
“Hey, once again, I’m sorry if I came down too hard on you the other day.”
“Save the lecture,” she warned. “Can’t say I’ve earned the status of mother just yet, but from now on I’ll be more vigilant about watching the girls.”
“Swimming lessons probably wouldn’t hurt,” he suggested.
“I was thinking the same thing. Do you know any instructors?”
He searched his memory. “There’s a YMCA nearby. Better yet, a town directory with a list of services.”
“It can’t be just someone I find on a list. I have to trust whoever works with the girls.”
“You’ll find the right person.”
“I think I have.” She stepped toward him. “How about you?”
He froze. Teach her girls how to swim? Did she realize what she was asking? No way. Not after how he failed Jamie.
“I’m not a teacher.”
“But you clearly swim.”
“Well, yeah, but a teacher? I’m sorry, Jenna. I won’t do it.”
Despite his refusal, she tried to convince him. “The girls think you’re a prince.”
He nearly choked. “Prince?” Not if they knew the truth.
“They’re in a fairy tale princess phase right now, and after your derring-do at the beach, you fall into the knight in shining armor category.”
Please, anything but this.
“Living in this coastal town could be dangerous if they don’t know how to swim.” She worried her lip. “They tend to be a tad headstrong, but after the grand rescue the other day, I think they’ll listen to you.”
No. They couldn’t be trusted with him. “Jenna, I—”
“Wyatt, I don’t let just anyone into the girls’ lives. They like you. They’d never learn from anyone they didn’t feel safe with. You’ve proven you can keep them safe.”
He closed, then opened his eyes. Forced himself to say the words. “Jenna, you realize Jamie drowned, right?”
“I didn’t want to...Nealy said it was a boating accident...” She glanced at him with wide eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m making a mess of this.”
“Then you see why I can’t do this.”
“I disagree.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
She disagreed? “Why?”
“From what I understand, your son’s death was an accident.”
He bit back the bitterness threatening to claim him. Kept his tone even when he said, “You don’t know the details.” Not an accident. As far as he was concerned, Jamie’s death fell squarely on his shoulders.
“Maybe not, but if you were such a bad guy, you never would have dived into the water after