Tara Randel - Honeysuckle Bride

“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 Bridget. Maybe you need to help my girls in honor of Jamie.”

He ran a hand over his chin. “This is crazy.”

She shook her head. “This is healing.”

Had this petite woman standing before him just used her kids’ need for swimming lessons to help him feel better?

He shook his head, more adamant now. “I can’t do it.”

A shadow of hurt crossed her face, quickly replaced by a flash of determination. “Okay. I’ll take care of the girls’ lessons on my own.”

“Jenna, I—”

She jerked back, putting distance between them. “No need to explain. You don’t want to get involved. I get it.”

“I’m not saying...” He took a breath. “Jenna, you can’t keep bad things from happening.”

“But I can make sure I’m prepared.” She turned and strode away, leaving him to wonder if he’d just made another life-changing mistake.

CHAPTER FOUR

WITH A WEEK left before school started, Jenna decided to follow through and sign the girls up for swimming lessons. Wyatt may not want to be involved, but his unwillingness wouldn’t stop her. After some research, she discovered the local country club held weekly lessons. She called, set up a time with the instructor and checked one more activity off her growing list.

At first, the girls were excited about the idea, until it came time to put on their swimsuits. Suddenly, Bridget had an upset stomach and Abby couldn’t find her suit.

Jenna stood in the doorway to their bedroom, a serious frown focused on the girls, who sat cross-legged on the floor, dolls and accessories scattered around them. “Abby, we unpacked your bathing suit. It’s in the bottom drawer of your dresser.”

Abby dipped her head and glanced at her sister, as if not sure what to say or do. Bridget, however, kept her eyes leveled on Jenna with a stare she’d come to recognize as a “don’t push me” look.

“Bridget, do you want some seltzer water?”

She wrinkled her pert nose. “That won’t help.”

“Hmm. I seem to remember it helped after too many hot dogs and French fries on Friday night.”

Bridget shrugged. “I ate too many eggs this morning.”

“Then how about the pink stuff?”

The ten-year-old sent Jenna an, “as if,” look.

Yes, Jenna knew Bridget’s aversion to seltzer. Or any kind of chalky stomach remedy. The thick concoction made her gag every time she attempted to swallow it. She also knew that Bridget’s stomachaches usually stemmed from nerves. If they worked out the problem, Bridget was fine.

Still, she had to get the two moving. Let the battle begin .

“I see. If that’s the case, you won’t make miniature golf tonight with Nealy and Lilli. They’ll be disappointed, but will understand you’re too sick to join them.” She shifted her gaze to Abby. “Guess it’ll just be you playing golf later while your sister stays home with the sitter.”

A frown furrowed Bridget’s brow.

Jenna held back a grin, ready to pour it on. She snapped her fingers. “I nearly forgot. We were also going to the mall later. I wanted to look for new school shoes.”

She knew her volley would hit the mark. Only ten and already Bridget loved shoes.

Abby rose and walked to her dresser, opening the drawer to remove her swimsuit.

Jenna pulled a surprised face. “Oh, will you look at that. Right where we put it.”

Abby grinned, knowing her little trick hadn’t worked. So much for the truth pact. As she began to change, Bridget gathered up her own suit, which was lying on the bed. “I’m not super sick. My stomach will feel better soon.”