Summer in Good Hope (A Good Hope Novel Book 2) (23 page)

BOOK: Summer in Good Hope (A Good Hope Novel Book 2)
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Deb raised a hand to keep Max from interrupting.

“I adore Vanessa, so please don’t think I’m speaking ill of her. In fact, I believe if you asked, she’d agree with me. It would have been better for her—and for you—if she’d have stayed single until you were grown.”

Suddenly Max understood. “You’re saying Prim should remain single.”

“I’m saying it would be unwise for anyone, anyone who has the best interests of Prim and the boys at heart, to push for more.” Deb’s gaze met his and there was no mistaking the warning in those fierce blue depths. “Not to mention that person would only get his heart broken in the long run.”

A hot dog vendor had finally made it to the top of the stands. Despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to eat a bite, Max motioned the boy over and ordered six dogs.

He kept his expression bland as he handed foil-wrapped dogs to Deb and Mike.

When a crack of a bat signaled a home run, Mike grinned. “This has turned out to be a great day. I’m glad we came.”

“Me too, honey.” The smile Deb flashed rivaled the sun. “So very glad.”

On the way to the car, Deb monopolized the conversation by chattering about how much Rory had disliked baseball. It took all of Prim’s control to keep her mounting frustration under control.

Though she couldn’t prove it, Prim knew Deb had to have said something to Max during the time she’d taken the boys to the restroom. Everything had been fine between her and Max—better than fine, actually—but when she’d returned he’d been cool as a stiff breeze off the bay.

Polite but distant.

When the game was over, instead of going to the café as planned and meeting up with Ami and Beck, Max had made a lame excuse about needing to get some work done at home. Even the boys begging him to come hadn’t made him waver.

Perhaps the hot-cold act should have annoyed her, but there had been a profound sadness in those placid blue depths. Oh, how she wished she could pull him close and kiss his sadness away.

Unfortunately, that had been impossible with Deb watching her with the intensity of a shark circling its next meal.

“Later, neighbor,” she said to Max.

His gaze searched hers. “Good-bye, Prim.”

As he walked away, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from staring. She’d still been watching when he turned back, his expression somber, his eyes unreadable.

A cold shiver traveled down Prim’s spine.

Something was desperately wrong.

She only wished she knew what it was so she could fix it.

C
hapter
T
wenty-
T
hree

“Retirement is wonderful.” Deb forked off a piece of pancake and smiled at Prim. “If Mike and I had jobs, we wouldn’t have been able to decide to stay in Good Hope at the last minute.”

“Flexibility is nice.” Prim kept her tone easy even as she shot Callum a warning glance when he reached for a piece of bacon on his brother’s plate.

Boris moved to sit between Deb and Callum. Though feeding the wolfhound from the table was strictly forbidden, Prim suspected from the animal’s position and hopeful expression that food occasionally made it off Callum’s plate and into his mouth. Not always accidentally.

“Yes, I love being flexible. That’s another reason I’d never have a dog.” Deb made a shooing motion at Boris, who simply stared uncomprehendingly at her.

Prim cocked her head. Normally she could follow her mother-in-law’s circuitous logic, but not this time. “I don’t understand.”

“You can’t be spontaneous when you have a dog.” Deb looked at her husband for confirmation but found him intently reading the stock reports on his phone. “You have to make arrangements to kennel them even if you’re only going to be gone a day or two. If you decide to stay a week, well, that can add up to a lot of money in boarding fees.”

Stay a week?

Was Deb actually considering remaining in Good Hope through the Fourth? Prim fought a surge of panic. She was holding on to control by her fingertips now. No way could she go that long without strangling the woman.

“Mommy.”

Callum’s solemn face looked up at her. “Me and Connor have something to tell you.”

Were there any words spoken by a child that could bring more terror to a parent’s heart? Prim tried to imagine what they’d done. It had to be big or her son wouldn’t look so serious.

“Can it wait until after we eat?” Conscious of Deb’s intense scrutiny, Prim kept her tone light.

The boys looked at each other and shook their heads.

“Okay.” Prim smiled at Deb and Mike. “If you’ll excuse us for a few minutes, the boys and I are going to sit on the porch swing and have a little talk.”

“Why can’t they tell you right here?” Deb demanded. “We aren’t even through with breakfast.”

Ignoring the question, Prim rose.

“We won’t be long.” Two small hands were clasped tightly in hers as they left the table.

Prim took a seat in the middle of the white-lacquered swing, a boy on each side of her. Even as her mind raced with all the dire possibilities, she offered an encouraging smile.

When they only exchanged glances, she prompted, “You know you can tell me anything.”

Callum met her gaze. “We really like Mr. Brody.”

Connor nodded vigorously. “We like him a lot.”

“That’s nice.” Prim still hadn’t a clue where this was headed. “Mr. Brody is a good neighbor and friend.”

As well as an excellent lover
, her mind supplied before she silenced the thought.

The boys sat silently for several seconds before Connor reached around her and punched his brother in the arm. Callum shot him a glinting glance before turning back to his mother.

“Me and Connor want Mr. Brody to be our daddy.” The tension eased from the boy’s face as if finally saying the words was a relief. “He’s fun and he likes baseball and he—”

“We like him better than our real daddy.” As he often did, Connor completed his brother’s thought.

The smile that had begun to blossom on Prim’s face ended in a sharp inhale of breath. She wanted the boys to like Max, she really and truly did, but hearing them say they liked him
more
than their own father was like a knife to her heart.
Oh, Rory, I’m so sorry.

“Our real daddy didn’t like baseball.” A frown marred Callum’s brow for a second before it smoothed. “We like baseball a lot. Mr. Brody likes it a lot, too.”

“If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be a coach,” Connor added, his blue eyes serious.

“If you married Mr. Brody, he could be our daddy
and
our coach.” Callum smiled as if the mere thought brought him pleasure. “That would be so cool.”

“So cool,” Connor echoed. “What do you say?”

Without any prompting her sons had blessed her relationship with Max. Though her head spun that they’d already made the leap to marriage, she found comfort that when—or rather,
if
—she and Max got to that point, the twins would be all for it.

Callum pinned her with those clear blue eyes, so like Rory’s. “Are you going to marry him or not?”

“She most certainly is not.” Deb’s voice slashed like a whip through the screen door.

Prim’s heart stopped, simply stopped beating, when her mother-in-law shoved open the door and strode onto the porch like a bull entering the ring. The woman had obviously been eavesdropping and had built up quite a head of steam over what she’d heard.

“Callum. Connor. Please go into the backyard.” Prim gave both boys a reassuring smile. “We’ll talk more about this later.”

The twins hesitated. Looking as formidable as the Incredible Hulk, their grandmother stood between them and the front door.

“You can go around the side of the house,” Prim instructed. “Just make sure to latch the gate.”

“Okay, Mom.” Callum turned to his brother. “Race you.”

Wanting to be on even footing, Prim stood as the twins disappeared around the corner of the house. She lifted her chin, met her mother-in-law’s steely-eyed gaze with one of her own. “I don’t appreciate you listening in on a private conversation.”

Deb’s hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists at her sides. “They told you they liked Max Brody more than their own father.”

The pain in the woman’s voice tempered some of Prim’s anger. Prim couldn’t begin to imagine how hard hearing that sentiment spoken with boyish fervor had been on Deb. “I know. Hearing that made me sad, too. But it’s understandable. Rory passed away when they were four. Though I’ve done my best to keep his memory alive—”

“Do you call bringing another man into their lives keeping his memory alive?” The pain was gone, replaced by fury. “I’m beginning to believe you never really cared about Rory. Certainly not the way you should have cared. Maybe if he’d been more content at home, he wouldn’t have felt the need to go on all those adventures. Perhaps he wouldn’t have taken that last trip and he’d still be alive today.”

Prim staggered back as if shot.

Deb paid her no mind as the venom continued to spew. “Despite knowing how much we loved him and he loved us, you refused to let me have a say in his burial. Okay, maybe he did want to be cremated,” she said quickly when Prim opened her mouth. “But you only followed select parts of his wishes. You didn’t scatter his ashes like he wanted. I told Mike you couldn’t make him want to be with you in life, so you’re punishing him by keeping him close in death.”

Prim flinched as the words hit their mark, but she lifted her chin.

“Regardless of what you believe, I did love your son. And I tried to be a good wife to him. Maybe you’re right, maybe I wasn’t what he wanted, but that doesn’t give you the right to speak to me in this manner.” Prim kept all emotion from her voice. She refused to cry. She wouldn’t give Deb the satisfaction. “I believe it’s best for everyone if you pack your bags and leave my house.”

“You’re kicking us out?” A look of shock crossed Deb’s face. “For what? For simply trying to have an honest dialogue?”

“I want you to leave.” Prim edged around Deb and strode into the house. Only when she reached the bathroom did Prim let the tears fall.

In exactly twenty-five minutes, Mike backed the Buick out of the driveway and drove off.

Prim stood on the porch with a boy on each side of her. Her expression remained stony while the twins waved and smiled.

The second the Enclave disappeared from sight, Prim expelled her breath. She thought she’d feel better with Deb and Mike out of the house. But Deb’s accusations lingered, and Prim’s emotions remained as tangled as her hair on a windswept day.

“Can we go in the back and play ball?” Callum asked.

“Sure.” Absently she tousled his hair. “Your gloves are in the hall closet.”

“We don’t need gloves.” Gazing up at her, Connor’s young face was earnest. “They didn’t have gloves yesterday.”

For a second she was confused. Until she realized he was referring to the vintage baseball game. Though it seemed as if gloves would provide some protection for little fingers, she wasn’t going to push the point.

“Take the ball outside then, and—”

Prim’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of Max on the other side of the sliding glass door. The boys rushed him as if they were linebackers and he was the quarterback with the ball.

“Yay, you came just in time.”

His serious expression grew quizzical. “In time for what?”

Callum held up the baseball clutched between his fingers. “To play ball.”

“We’re not using gloves, neither,” Connor assured him.

With his free hand, Callum tugged on Max’s arm, his expression hopeful. “Throw us the ball. Please.”

The look on Max’s face seemed to indicate he was waging some kind of internal struggle. Was he concerned she’d be upset? She offered a reassuring smile. “I’d love to watch you play.”

“Let’s go, boys.” His voice was deep and husky, as if he were fighting off a cold.

She let her gaze linger on him as she followed them out the door. Right now all she wanted to do was rest her head on his shoulder and feel his strong, comforting arms around her.

Max tossed the ball with the boys for nearly thirty minutes before calling it quits. Callum and Connor continued to play in the backyard when Max stepped inside.

“How about a glass of iced tea?” she asked, following him when he strode into the living room.

“I don’t want anything.”

Something was wrong. Prim sensed it. She hoped it wasn’t anything serious, because her emotions were still raw and unsettled from her encounter with Deb.

Still, she wanted Max to know if he needed her, she was here for him. “Tell me what’s wrong and what I can do to help.”

The tight clench to his jaw and his rigid stance sent her stomach into somersaults. Ready or not, it appeared she was about to be thrust into her second serious conversation of the morning.

Max passed a palm across the sweaty surface of his forehead. He should have known better than to get involved with someone whose heart still belonged to another. He’d ignored the signs and now he was paying the price.

He’d known this moment would be hard. He just hadn’t realized his heart would feel as if it was being torn from his chest before he’d even begun to speak.

The sight of the urn in the corner cabinet reinforced he was making the right decision. “I don’t know if I told you, but I dated a woman last year. Her name was Lori.”

“I don’t recall you mentioning her.” There was a hint of trepidation in Prim’s voice. “Was it serious?”

Max continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Lori and her longtime boyfriend had broken up several months before she and I started dating. I knew she was on the rebound, but she assured me whatever feelings she’d had for her ex-boyfriend were gone.”

“She still cared for him.”

Had Prim said the words? Or had he? It scarcely mattered.

“We’d been together for six months when she told me they were getting back together.” His lips lifted in a humorless smile. “She liked me a lot, cared about me. But she loved
him
.”

“Oh, Max. That must have hurt.” Prim moved to his side, as if ready to console.

Max stepped back, keeping some distance between them.

“Initially it hurt,” he said, thinking back. “I’ve since realized that while I liked her and enjoyed her company, I didn’t love her, either.”

Prim remained silent, her hands folded together in a tight knot.

Max ran his fingers down the side of the urn, resisting the overpowering urge to smash it against the wall. “You loved Rory.”

“Yes.”

The single word struck like a punch to the gut. He didn’t know why. Of course she’d loved Rory. Hadn’t she married the man? Given him two sons?

Callum and Connor.
God, he’d never wanted to hurt them.

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