Sherryl Woods - Driftwood Cottage

“Swamped,” Heather said. “Mostly lookers, but I did have a couple of nice sales.”

Megan regarded her intently. “Then why don’t you look happier?”

“Connor’s here,” she announced, watching Megan closely for a reaction.

“Really? He didn’t let any of us know he was coming.”

“But you knew he might be coming home, didn’t you? You don’t sound all that surprised.”

Megan shrugged. “I hoped he’d be home soon, of course, but I didn’t know his plans.”

Heather still didn’t believe Megan was as clueless as she was pretending to be. “Why didn’t you warn me? He walked in here this morning, spoiling for a fight. I’m not even sure how he knew this shop was mine, since you said you hadn’t told him.”

“I hadn’t said a word,” Megan reiterated. “He might have recognized the quilt in the window. Didn’t you tell me it used to hang on the wall in your apartment?”

Heather couldn’t believe Connor had paid that much attention to the quilt she’d made. When she’d worked on it in the evenings, his head had mostly been buried in law books. He’d barely even commented when she’d hung it in their townhouse.

“I suppose it’s possible,” she conceded slowly. “Are you sure you didn’t let something slip about the shop?”

“I told you I wouldn’t,” Megan said, clearly not taking offense at the question. “But I did warn you he was bound to find out about it sooner or later. Is he upset?”

Heather nodded. “I’m not entirely sure if it’s because it caught him off guard or because I’m here in his town.”

“Probably a little of both,” Megan assessed. “Did you talk?”

“Not really. I didn’t want to get into anything here when a customer could walk in at any second. We agreed we’d talk some more when I bring little Mick over for dinner tomorrow.”

The look of satisfaction in Megan’s eye suggested she’d been hoping for exactly that. Heather studied her suspiciously. “Are you sure you didn’t have anything to do with luring him down here this weekend?”

“I can honestly say that I haven’t spoken to him in days,” Megan said.

“I think there’s a loophole in there somewhere, but I swear I can’t spot it,” Heather said with regret. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter what Connor’s doing here. Like you said, he was bound to turn up sooner or later. I guess I’d just been hoping for later. I’m not quite ready to go head-to-head with him. I’m still feeling my way with this new life of mine. I might not be strong enough to defend every decision.”

“Of course you are,” Megan said. “You’ve started a whole new life for yourself and your son. You can handle anything Connor dishes out. You were strong enough to walk away, after all. That took courage, Heather, especially when your heart wanted you to stay.”

“I only did it because I felt I didn’t have any other choice. Your son is a very smooth talker. If he puts his mind to it, he can destroy all of my rational reasons for being here and convince me I belong with him.”

Megan regarded her curiously. “Are you really worried that he’ll talk you into something you don’t want to do?” she asked, then added gently, “Or that he won’t try at all?”

Heather sat back with a heartfelt sigh. There it was, the undeniable truth. As smart as she knew her decision to move out and leave Connor had been, a part of her still desperately wanted him to fight to get her back. If he didn’t, the part of her heart that wasn’t already broken would finally shatter.

Connor’s plan to take his rowboat out for the afternoon had pretty much gone up in smoke when he’d discovered Heather was now living in town and his son was hanging out with his grandfather.

When little Mick tired of being outside with his cousins, Connor scooped him up and headed for the house. “I’ll make some sandwiches, Dad. Will you and the boys be up soon?”

“A half hour,” Mick said. “Then we’re all going to take naps, right, boys?”

Henry regarded him with a serious look that puckered his brow. “I don’t take naps anymore, Grandpa Mick.”

“Me, either,” Davy chimed in.

“Well, I do,” Mick said.

“So does your cousin,” Connor told the boys. “If you’re not sleepy after lunch, I’ll play a game with you, okay?”

“Henry’ll beat you,” Davy boasted of his older stepbrother. “He’s good at games.”

Connor laughed. “Then I’ll need to be very careful which game I pick to play. I hold the record at some of them.”

Mick shook his head. “Are you still that competitive kid who hated having anyone beat you at anything?” he asked Connor.

“Sure am,” Connor replied, giving him a wink. “See you at the house.”

An hour later Connor had fed the kids, then sent both his son and Mick off for naps before settling down in the den with Davy and Henry. Despite his protests, Davy fell asleep before he could even get the video system set up. Connor carried him upstairs, returned, then turned to Henry.

“You sure you wouldn’t rather rest for a while?” he asked him.

Henry regarded him eagerly. “I’d rather play,” he said at once. “Davy’s not much competition, and Grandpa Mick and Kevin don’t really understand how the game works.”

Connor made a big show of sizing him up. “You any good?”

“Really good,” Henry said in a rare show of confidence from a boy just starting to find his place in his new family.

“Want to place a little bet on the outcome?” Connor taunted. “You win, I’ll take you into town for ice cream. I win, you treat.”

“Don’t do it,” Kevin said, wandering in with a handful of cookies just in time to overhear. “Your uncle Connor cheats.”

Connor turned on his brother indignantly. “I most certainly do not. If anyone cheats, it’s you, big brother.”

“Since when?” Kevin said, snatching up the remote.

Behind them Henry giggled. “You guys are crazy.”

Kevin grinned at his stepson. “You are not the first to notice that, my boy. How about you and me team up against this hotshot? I think we can take him.”

Henry nodded eagerly. “Awesome!”

“That doesn’t strike me as fair,” Connor said, “but bring it on.”

An hour later, he’d destroyed the two of them. He regarded Kevin with satisfaction. “Who’s crying now? I see a double hot fudge sundae in my future.”

“Okay, okay, we bow to your superior expertise,” Kevin said, winking at Henry. “Why don’t you run upstairs and see if Davy’s awake? We should probably get home.” He glanced at Connor. “I was supposed to take little Mick back to Heather, but I assume you’d rather do that yourself.” He studied him pointedly. “Or am I wrong?”

“I’ll take him,” Connor said, his voice suddenly tight as he scowled at his brother. “So, you knew when you came to Baltimore the other night that Heather and little Mick were living here in town?”

“Guilty,” Kevin said.

“Yet you saw no need to mention it,” Connor said accusingly.

“Hey, all of this is between the two of you. The rest of us are innocent bystanders.”

“Innocent, my behind,” Connor said. “Since when has any O’Brien ever stood on the sidelines when it comes to stuff like this? You’re all a bunch of meddlers.”

Kevin didn’t even attempt to deny it. “You know now—isn’t that what counts? Well, that and what you’re going to do about it. Any idea about that?”

Connor sighed. “Not a clue.”

Kevin’s expression brightened. “I have a thought or two.”

“Says the man who was not meddling,” Connor said. “Forget it, big brother. Keep your ideas to yourself. If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it. You might circulate that message to the rest of the family, as well.”