Make believe proposal, p.10
Make-Believe Proposal, page 10
Roland didn't want to think about why he'd been so afraid for June. She was obviously fine, and a jellyfish sting wasn't generally serious. So, why had his heart fallen into his gut?
Externally, he'd remained calm and done what he could to help her. Inwardly, he'd been a mess of nerves. He was obviously still carrying around some fear over what had happened to Rosemary. But did he really feel so deeply for June? He hadn't given himself time to process what had happened between them. It was just a kiss, wasn’t it? And when he'd come home to find her in Casey's arms, he'd pushed all thoughts of anything happening between them to one side.
Now, things were different. She'd cleared the air between them, along with any obstacles he'd used to shield himself from having to make a choice about himself and June. He didn't want to lose her from his life, and from his daughters' lives. He couldn't afford it, for their sakes. They loved her, he knew that. Their needs came first. Always.
The girls chattered happily as they drove. He joined in, happy to keep things light. But inside, his thoughts were in turmoil. He knew he had to do something, say something to June. But if he did and it pushed her away, what then?
He turned the car into a small parking lot, then shut off the engine. A neon sign flashed overhead announcing Rick’s Shrimp & Oyster Shack.
"How about some oysters?" he asked with a grin.
Groans emitted from the back seat.
He laughed. "No?"
"Disgusting, Daddy. No oysters. Please!" Caitlin's eyes rolled, and she slumped down in her seat dramatically.
"Okay, will shrimp do then?"
"Yeah!" Both girls clapped their hands together, their discomfort over the thought of slurping down oysters forgotten.
"I'll try oysters," replied June beside him.
Her blonde hair hung like a soft, silken curtain on either side of her face, already lightened by their time in the sun. Her skin glowed with a healthy tan, and her blue eyes sparkled.
With a thundering pulse, he met her gaze. He couldn't ignore the connection between them. Not anymore. Just looking at her, meeting her gaze, it was almost more than he could take. He wanted to reach for her hand, brush her hair behind her ear, and kiss her…any or all of these things at once. Something, to be near her, touch her, hold her. He inhaled slowly.
"You've never eaten oysters before?"
"Nope,” she answered, shaking her head.
"Well, you've been missing out. They're best on the half shell with crackers and horseradish. Come on, let's go—it's time you had your first oyster experience."
She laughed as she climbed out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her. "Let's go then."
Roland's attentiveness to her since the jellyfish sting had made her almost giddy. She couldn't think about anything else other than how close he was to her. Seated across the booth from him at the oyster restaurant, his feet bumped hers whenever he moved to help one of the girls or sat back in his seat to glance at the screens overhead, televising a baseball game.
When he looked down again, she caught his gaze just as the server brought them a large platter of oysters on the half-shell.
"Here you go. Just let me know if you need anything else," the woman said with a smile.
She pushed the tray into the center of the table, then hurried back toward the kitchen.
The girls already had their popcorn shrimp and fries and were hungrily eating it while they discussed who'd built the best sandcastle that day, and what they intended to do the next day—their last in Destin.
She smiled across the table at Roland, and time stood still as their eyes locked with one another.
He broke eye contact, reaching for an oyster. "This is how I do it. Grab an oyster, slide it onto a cracker. Add horseradish and Tabasco…and ta-da! Perfect."
He slipped the oyster-laden cracker between his lips, bit down, then let his eyes drift shut, a look of pure joy on his lightly tanned face.
A few freckles she hadn't noticed before were scattered over his nose and cheeks. His red hair curled over his forehead, and his biceps bulged beneath the tight sleeves of his white T-shirt.
He suited the casual style. She was so used to seeing him in suits and ties. She swallowed hard and reached for an oyster. After fixing it the way he'd suggested, she popped it into her mouth and chewed with her eyes wide. After she got over the texture, it tasted delicious. She washed it down with a mouthful of Dr. Pepper.
"Hmmm."
"What do you think?" he asked, one eyebrow quirked.
"Yummy!" She grinned.
"Wait until you try the crab legs dipped in garlic butter."
"Now, that I've eaten before," she replied, reaching for another oyster. "Red Lobster was a treat during my college years. Mom and Dad would take me whenever they came to visit.”
He chuckled. "You had a very different college experience than I did."
She bit down on another oyster and talked around her mouthful. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, I didn't have the money to eat at places like Red Lobster."
She swallowed, almost choking on her food. "What? Really?"
He laughed at her response. "Yes, I wasn't always so…"
"Rich?"
He chuckled again. "Yeah, so rich."
"I had no idea. I thought you must have inherited some of it. You never talk about your family or background."
He studied her, one eyebrow raised. "I guess I don't."
"And you know all about me, so I think it'd only be fair for you to share as well."
"You're a pastor's daughter, raised outside of Raleigh in a little country town…"
"Ardensville."
"Right, Ardensville. Your brother is Jax Green. And you had a stay-at-home mom, something I've always been completely jealous of, by the way."
She cocked her head to one side. "Really?"
"Yeah, my mom worked all the time. I don't remember spending much time with her. I was a latchkey kid, so I had a lot of alone time. And I got into plenty of mischief. That was until I discovered programming and hacking. Okay, I got into plenty of mischief afterward as well, it was just a different kind of mischief."
"You're such a nerd," she kidded with a wide smile.
"Guilty as charged." He smirked. "And it's done pretty well for me."
"True. So, where did you live? I mean, you told me you grew up in Florida, but where?"
"Here in Destin, actually."
"Really? How come you never mentioned that before now?"
"I don't really like to talk about it. My childhood isn't something I have fond memories of, or many memories at all actually."
She frowned. "That's strange."
"Is it?"
"I think so. I remember plenty about my childhood."
"Yes, but you had a lot of things worth remembering: parents who loved you, took care of you, friends, probably sports and fun things. Me, not so much."
"Are your parents still in town?"
He shook his head. "No, they both died a long time ago."
"I'm sorry."
"Thanks. I try not to think about it too much. I wish I'd gotten more time with them, time to repair some of the brokenness in our relationship. But there's nothing I can do about it now." He glanced beside him at Caitlin and across the table to where Emma sat, building a tower out of her remaining shrimp, and a sad smile hovered on his lips. "Nothing I can do but try to make a better life for my children."
12
June pushed the car door shut and hurried around to the driver's side. They'd been home from Destin for a week, and it was almost as though the vacation had never happened. Her shoulders had tensed up so much throughout the day that she had a crick in her neck, and her stomach churned because she hadn't had a chance to eat anything for lunch other than a banana and a cup of coffee.
She climbed into the car, glanced into the back seat, and frowned. "Seatbelts please."
Caitlin had been attending an art class every morning for the past week, and tonight was the art show and auction. They'd also had a flood in the downstairs bathroom that she'd had to help Magda clean up while they waited for the professionals. Emma had been up half the night before with a fever and vomiting virus, and June had been run off her feet just keeping up with it all. When she'd suggested skipping the auction, Caitlin had cried until her eyes were bright red. So, June had relented and bundled them all into the Range Rover.
She glanced back over her shoulder at Emma while they waited for the security gate to whirr open. The girl looked much brighter than she had the day before, and she hadn't thrown up in more than twelve hours. Still, she really shouldn't be leaving the house yet. June would have to make sure she didn't touch anything.
She sighed and accelerated out of the drive and onto the main road.
Roland had worked late every day since their return from the beach. Was he running from something? Hiding from whatever was building between the two of them? Or were things really so busy at the office?
She'd called him to see if he could come home early to help out at the art auction, but her call had gone through to voicemail yet again. His assistant had promised to pass on her message, but she hadn't heard from him, and now she had to rush both girls to the auction on her own.
"How are you feeling, Em?"
She checked the girl again in her mirror. Her face was pale, and she stared out the window.
"Better."
"That's good. No throwing up on the way there, okay?"
Emma nodded, then broke a grin. "No promises."
June chuckled to herself. Emma's sense of humor was returning. That was a good sign.
"I still don't see why we couldn't bring Frank with us," muttered Caitlin, her arms crossed over her chest, and her brows drawn low over dark eyes.
June's lips pursed. "We just can't. There's no way they'd let a dog into the art gallery, and I can't leave him in the car, it's really hot today. Besides, dog poop in the Land Rover would be just the thing to tip me over the edge.”
“The edge of what?” asked Emma.
June inhaled sharply. “Nothing. I was just teasing.”
"It's not a real art gallery," continued Caitlin. "I'm sure dogs would be allowed. It's just a community hall."
"Still, I think it's better to be safe than sorry."
"You always say that," retorted Caitlin.
June shook her head. Caitlin was in a mood, and she had been all afternoon. Perhaps she was nervous about the art show, although June didn't understand why. Usually, Caitlin was more than happy to show off her artwork, although it wasn't generally shown to so many people.
"Are you feeling a bit anxious about people seeing your art, honey?" June arched an eyebrow as she watched the road. The traffic was heavy, and she didn't want to miss her turn.
Caitlin didn't respond.
"Caitlin?"
"No. I'm fine."
Obviously, she wasn't going to get anything out of Caitlin now. Maybe they could talk about it after the show when she'd calmed down.
Roland pulled his car into the lot and frowned. There were only a few vehicles parked there, and most of the lights around the community hall seemed to have been shut off.
He'd missed the art auction.
He climbed out of the car and jogged to the entry. Two large barn-style doors were padlocked shut. No internal lights shone through the small square windows. He pressed a hand up against one of the panes to look inside and could only see shadows.
With a sharp intake of breath, he ran back to the still-idling car and climbed inside. He smacked his palm against the steering wheel and pressed his head against the headrest. Caitlin had so wanted him to make it, and his meeting in Chicago had run long. The entire jet ride back to Atlanta he'd checked his watch every five minutes, but that only seemed to make the time drag even longer.
She'd be upset with him. Probably give him the silent treatment for a day or two. He could only hope she'd forgive him eventually. He hated to think that he might cause her more hurt than she'd already experienced in her short life. He wanted to give his girls everything, and that included his love and attention. But he also had goals and dreams of his own, and sometimes those two visions collided.
Being a single parent was hard. No, it was impossible. He couldn't do it all. Not on his own. He was so grateful they had June. At least he knew she loved his daughters. If they didn't have her…he didn't know what he'd do.
A wave of affection for June washed over him, and he clenched the steering wheel with both hands, his knuckles whitening. They needed her. He needed her. And at the same time he couldn't ignore his growing feelings for her. They were bubbling and building and seemed to grow stronger every day.
He'd done his best to avoid being home alone with her all week. Ever since their trip to Destin, he'd worked day and night. It didn't hurt that the acquisition was taking up so much of his time. There'd been a few bumps in their negotiations, but he'd managed to bring them through it after several late nights in the office with the team.
He pulled the car out of the lot and pointed it in the direction of home. As he drove, he considered what he could do to make it up to Caitlin. Maybe he could contact the art school and ask if he could buy her pieces after the fact, that was if no one else had already bought them. Or he could make a donation. Not that it would really help Caitlin feel any better.
He sighed and ran a hand over his hair. He'd have to face June tonight. He'd promised her he'd make it to the last part of the auction. She'd left him messages all day, but he'd been in meetings and hadn't been able to call her back. Finally, on the plane, he'd gotten in touch with her, and she'd sounded so harried it had made his gut curl into a knot that hadn't untied yet. He always carried the guilt that she was there with his children during the important moments of their lives when he should have been.
The garage was quiet and dark when he pulled his car into it. Inside the house, he could see a few lights on, but the girls must have already gone to bed.
He climbed the stairs silently, then tiptoed down the hall. The murmur of voices reached his ears, and he stuck his head through the gap between the door and the door frame into Caitlin's room. Caitlin lay beneath the covers, and June sat on the bed blocking his view of his daughter. June held Caitlin's hand between her own.
"I wish you'd talk to me."
Caitlin grunted. "There's nothing to talk about. I already told you, I'm fine. Everything's fine. I don't know why you have to keep asking me."
"Because I know you're not fine. I saw those girls and the way they were pushing you around. What happened?"
Caitlin sighed. "They're bullies. That's all. Forget it."
"I can't forget it, honey. I want you to talk to me. Tell me what happened."
"I don't want to." Caitlin pulled her pillow out from beneath her head, and shoved it over her face, pressing it down on top of herself with both hands. Her muffled voice resounded through the stuffing. "It doesn't matter. The art class is over now, so just let it go."
June began to hum.
Caitlin lifted the pillow from her head and peered out beneath it. "Are you humming, Let it Go?"
June chuckled. "Maybe."
"That is so lame."
"If you say so. However, some people would say I'm the height of coolness, so maybe it's just your opinion."
Caitlin shoved the pillow beneath her head and rolled onto her side, her fists beneath her cheek. "Who says you're cool?"
"Oh, just people."
"No, they don't."
"So, tell me what happened with those girls?"
Caitlin groaned. "Let it go!"
"I'll start singing again."
"Ugh! Fine. They told me my painting stunk, and that I was a terrible artist and should just run back home to my daddy because he was the only one who would want any of my artwork."
"They said that?" Anger sharpened June's voice.
Roland had to bite his tongue to keep from saying anything. He hated to hear that either of his daughters was being bullied, especially when he suspected it had something to do with him and his position. There were plenty of parents in the community who talked about him behind closed doors, and sometimes their words came flying out of their children's mouths at school, soccer matches, or after school activities. It wasn't fair on the girls, but he didn’t know what he could do about it.
"It's no big deal."
"It's a big deal to me," June replied. "Is that why you were so nervous about going tonight?"
"I guess." Caitlin's voice was soft. "I didn't really want to see them again."
"What reason did they have to pick on you like that?"
"They said I'm ugly, and they don't like me. So, I guess that's why."
June paused, and leaned forward to kiss Caitlin on the cheek. Roland's blood boiled.
"Honey, you know that's all lies, right?"
"I don't know…"
June stroked Caitlin's cheek. "You're beautiful, and don't you ever let anyone tell you otherwise. God made you exactly the way you are, and He doesn't make mistakes. When He looks at you…wow, He is just amazed by how lovely you are. Anyhow, they're probably just jealous."
"Of what?"
June tucked a strand of hair behind Caitlin's ear. Roland couldn't see his daughter's face, only the side of her head, but he could imagine the expression on her face. June's words were like a balm to her wounded heart, and his throat tightened around the knot of pain he felt for his daughter.
"Of what? You, sweet Caitlin, are stunningly beautiful, you're smart, kind, helpful and so very talented. I'm sure they are jealous of all those things. Also, your dad has kind of a high-profile job, so people like to talk about him—sometimes they say nice things, sometimes they don't, but it really is no reflection on you. You're truly amazing."
"I don't like them talking mean about Daddy either, though." Caitlin sniffled.
His throat tightened further still.
