For the Sake of His Heir Page 15

  She sidled past him and kept packing, her gaze refocused on her work.

  Fear of losing her touched off a new fire in him. “I know I made a mistake when I released that photo to the media. But seeing Theresa again only made me realize how much of an idiot I would be to lose you, Brianne.”

  “You don’t need to say that. You’re not losing me. We have a year on our contract, and I plan to honor that. I’ll hold you to your end of the bargain, too. But we can’t live under the same roof. Not when—” She hesitated. Bit her lip. “Not when the boundaries get all mixed up.”

  He saw an opening. A chink in her plan and a flicker of hope for them. “So let’s get rid of the boundaries. I love you, Brianne. I don’t want any more walls between us.”

  He could tell by her expression that he’d caught her off guard. She hadn’t expected him to fall in love with her, but he had. Her lips moved soundlessly for a moment, but then she shook her head. Straightened.

  “Perhaps you do love me,” she acknowledged. “But what you feel for me is friendship. A camaraderie and trust that’s important to both of us and that we don’t want to sacrifice for the sake of a contract marriage.” She tossed a couple of shirts into the suitcase without folding them, leaving behind all the shopping bags full of winter clothes he’d bought for her. “But that’s not enough for the long haul, Gabe.”

  “I love you.” He said it again, all the more certain of it. And certain that she was wrong to tell him how he felt. “And that’s not enough?”

  “You haven’t even had time to grieve for your first marriage. I don’t want to be the rebound romance only to have my heart shattered in a million pieces two years from now.” She stuffed her arms in the sleeves of the red parka and shoved her phone in her pocket.

  He was offering her everything and she was rejecting him? The fear inside him grew colder. “That wouldn’t happen. I can promise you that family means everything to me.”

  “I know.” She swiped a hand across her eyes. “For Jason’s sake, you’re willing to construct the facade of a family. But he deserves the real thing.”

  “This is the real thing,” he insisted, knowing that he’d just seen the difference with his own eyes back at his grandfather’s house. “I have no illusions about my ex-wife, Brianne. She never cared about me or our son.”

  “And I do.” She sounded so certain of herself. “I always will. But my grandmother sacrificed everything to remove me from a dysfunctional family. I won’t dishonor that by sliding right back into another situation where I have to fight for scraps of affection.” She pursed her lips. “I love you, too, Gabe, but I deserve more.”

  He was so stunned, he didn’t even move to carry her suitcase for her as she headed toward the door. She couldn’t possibly turn her back on him. On the promise they’d made to each other.

  “Brianne. Wait,” he called out, belatedly rushing after her to try again to convince her of the truth.

  To convince her that he understood about real love, damn it.

  But she was already gone. He saw the taillights of an SUV glowing red in the Wyoming darkness as she rode away, taking his heart with her.

  * * *

  The next morning, Brianne awoke to the sound of a Count Basie recording playing a few rooms away.

  Blinking against the bright sun streaming in, it took her a moment to remember where she was. She’d traveled more this week than she had in the whole rest of her life combined. New York. Cheyenne. New York again.

  Resisting the urge to burrow deeper under the high-thread-count sheets, Brianne forced her eyelids all the way open while “Kid from Red Bank” reminded her of her grandmother’s love for big-band music. Because who else besides Nana would be playing Count Basie? Nadine and Jason were still in the apartment, but she’d never heard Jason’s nanny blasting horns and trumpets. Rose had lived and breathed swing and big-band music, though.

  The nostalgia for visiting Nana’s apartment as a kid was a small bright spot on a day when Brianne’s heart threatened to shatter in a million pieces if she moved too quickly. Gabe had given her almost everything she could have ever wanted last night, even saying he loved her.

  But how could she believe that when he’d had his heart torn out by the worst possible marriage experience less than a year ago? According to Gabe, Theresa had served him divorce papers as soon as she found out she was pregnant. He’d refused to sign them until after Jason was born, meaning his divorce was less than a year old.

  Who could get married so fast after something like that and have the relationship be anything meaningful? No. Gabe had married her for a very specific reason, and he’d chosen her because she was his best friend.

  She’d honor that friendship if it killed her. And judging by the way her heart felt today, it very well might. But she wasn’t going to allow her friend to be hurt again. Not by her or anyone else. She could do that much for him.

  As for her?

  Her heart was toast already. That was no one’s fault but her own. She’d allowed herself to sleep with him when she’d had a mad crush on him for over a year. Of course, that would turn out to be a disaster of epic proportions.

  Forcing herself out of bed as “Kid from Red Bank” shifted into “One O’Clock Jump,” Brianne told herself she still had her family. Having Nana back in her life was more than she’d expected to have at this point, so she should be celebrating that instead of crying over Gabe. Or celebrating that she’d stood up for herself, refusing to settle for less than true love.

  But it was better to focus on Nana, since the refusing-to-settle part didn’t feel like a victory when it left her so thoroughly hollow inside.

  She washed her face and brushed her teeth, then dressed slowly. It was late again—almost noon. Her schedule had been out of whack between the travel and the late nights—first in the ER and then on her honeymoon.

  She felt another pang remembering the tenderness in Gabe’s touch. Cursing her weakness, she went back to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face and cool the burn of tears behind her eyes.

  Heading out into the kitchen, she found Nana, her nurse and Nadine dancing around. Nana, with one arm in a cast and sling, wore a baby carrier strapped to her front, with a fascinated Jason tucked inside. The child stared up at her as if she was the most fascinating person on earth, which Brianne could appreciate, even as she hoped her grandmother was truly strong enough to bear the extra weight of the baby.

  “Woo-hoo, Brianne!” Nana called to her. “Look at me! I have a little one to love on. Isn’t he the sweetest?”

  Nadine stopped dancing, looking worried. “We tried to talk her out of it, Miss Brianne, I swear we tried.”

  “I’ve been keeping track of her vitals,” Adella said quickly. “She’s been doing so well.”

  “I’ve got a nurse on one side and a nanny on the other,” Rose said, slowing down her moves as the music came to a stop. “I told them I’ve never been safer. And besides, this baby, he loves to dance.” She rubbed noses with Jason, making him laugh.

  Brianne’s heart melted. She’d missed Jason so much. Her first thought was that she wished Gabe was here to see all the love lavished on his child. And damn if her eyes didn’t start burning all over again. She wanted to be a family with him. With Jason.

  “Honey, what’s wrong?” Rose must have noticed Brianne’s expression, because her own clouded over. “You’re not worried about me, I hope.”

  “Here, Rose, let’s get you back in a chair,” Adella urged her. “I can show your granddaughter those vitals of yours that are better than most people half your age.”

  Working as a team, Nadine lifted Jason from the baby carrier while Adella unfastened the straps, freeing Rose from the cloth contraption. In the kitchen, Brianne belatedly noticed the homey Valentine’s Day preparations. The romantic holiday was just a few days away. Heart-shaped sugar cookies cooled on
a wire rack on the sleek gray granite countertop, and the whole kitchen was scented with vanilla and a hint of almond. A glass bowl of pink icing sat nearby, along with a half-dozen jars of candy decorations.

  Nearby, at the table in the breakfast nook, there were paper hearts in a long chain, with multiple sets of scissors littered around the table. No doubt the group of women had been working on the heart chain when they got inspired to dance. A few toys were scattered on the spotless kitchen floor along with a plastic bowl and wooden spoon.

  Rose had a seat at the breakfast nook while Nadine took the baby to the fridge to look over his lunch options. Adella retrieved a blood-pressure cuff and wrapped it around Rose’s good arm.

  “Honey, come sit with me.” Rose gestured to the seat on the opposite side of the table. “Enjoy this beautiful day in the most beautiful apartment I’ve ever seen.” Rose tipped her head toward the weak winter sun streaming in through the windows, where Central Park was visible. “Tell me about your honeymoon and how married life is treating you.”

  And that’s all it took.

  Brianne was mortified as she burst into tears.

  * * *

  An hour later, she’d shared the whole tale.

  From her ill-fated crush on her boss-turned-best-friend, to the day she got Nana’s letter and Gabe’s suggestion they marry, to the basic details of the marriage contract.

  “You shouldn’t have run out during that dinner,” Nana said finally, cutting out a few more paper hearts from the stack of pink, red and white construction paper. Despite her cast, she used both hands well enough. Apparently Adella had brought the paper with her to make decorations and valentines for the retirement home where she worked on the weekends.

  Brianne was decorating the cookies, taking comfort from lavishing frosting and pretty candies on the sweets so that someone—namely, Adella’s patients—would enjoy their Valentine’s Day. She hated to think of how poor Jason would be spending the day: getting hauled to a photo studio for a promotional shoot with a woman he barely knew.

  “I didn’t run out,” Brianne argued, digging in her heels on that point. “I wanted to give Gabe the time and space to work things out with his ex-wife.”

  Rose made a skeptical sound. “Sure sounds like you ran out to me. And his whole family was so nice to you.”

  “They were nice.” From Brock giving her a ride, to Maisie and Malcolm insisting on sitting beside her, and Scarlett doing her best to divert Gabe’s ex. “But don’t you think Gabe needs to work things out with Theresa so they have a reasonable coparenting relationship?” Brianne asked. But a part of her so desperately wanted someone to give her a rock-solid reason why she was wrong to be afraid.

  “She gave up her child—that beautiful, beautiful boy—before she ever laid eyes on him. Doesn’t matter that she spent a couple of weeks with him after he was born. She told your Gabe that she wasn’t ready to be a mother long before that, and that’s okay. Not every woman dreams of having a baby to complete her and make her happy.” Nana set down her scissors. “Maybe she’s a better person for acknowledging that up front than someone like your own mama or stepmama, who were—excuse my saying so—sorry excuses for parents.”

  “Maybe so,” Brianne admitted. “But it’s Gabe who needs to work things out with her. Not me.”

  “There’s bound to be a lot of hurt in that relationship, Brianne. You agreed to be his wife for at least a year. I would say that means you’ll fight in his corner, or at the very least, be by his side during the awkward dinner parties.” She met Brianne’s gaze over her pink paper. “Marriage hasn’t changed that much since back in my day.”

  Worry niggled at Brianne. “You think I chickened out?”

  “I think you love this man like a house afire.” Rose pointed at Brianne with the safety scissors. “And you’re running away from the chance to make a real marriage with him. Call it what you will.”

  Ouch. Regret stung her hard.

  “I was trying to do the right thing, Nana.” Had she screwed up? Should she have stayed in Cheyenne and tried to work things out with Gabe? “I just can’t bear the thought of him settling for me, you know? Like second prize at the fair.”

  She’d been selfish. Just like his horrible ex.

  Nana put down her paper and scissors and shoved them aside. “Brianne, that man is a McNeill. Women in this city would form a nice neat line around the block for a chance to date him, let alone marry him. He chose you because he already trusted you and he liked you. You’ve been his closest friend. And now, he thinks he loves you? Call me crazy, but I don’t know why you wouldn’t believe him.”

  Because she was scared. It had taken her a lifetime to work up the courage to have sex after her first time was such a disappointing embarrassment. Maybe she needed to start taking more chances. To risk embarrassment or getting her heart broken.

  “You’re right.” She finished decorating the last of the cookies and set the knife on top of the frosting bowl. “I need to call him. Or go back there. Or...what do you think I should do?”

  Rose pursed her lips. “I’ve actually got some inside information about this.”

  “What do you mean?” Brianne heard Nadine singing a song to Jason a few rooms away.

  “I’ve been texting with Malcolm.”

  Stunned, Brianne could only stare at her grandmother. “Malcolm? As in Malcolm McNeill?”

  “He sent out a tweet about the wedding, you know.” She retrieved her phone. “I have you to thank for my fancy new unlimited data plan. Because I’ve had a blast texting with him. Do you know he saw me perform at the Stork Club? I can’t believe he remembers, that was so long ago.” Nana patted her hair and laughed.

  Suddenly, the dancing and the party in the kitchen made all the more sense. Nana had been raving about the lovely day, and she was as happy as Brianne could ever recall seeing her.

  “Nana. You’ve been flirting with my grandfather-in-law.”

  “Maybe I have.” Rose shrugged a shoulder. “At my age, I’ve learned to wrap my arms around the happy moments and hold tight. Tomorrow, I could be back on Bushwick Avenue. But today, look at me in a Central Park hotel apartment like I’m queen of Manhattan.”

  “Good for you, Nana. He seems like a nice man. And he’s very handsome.” Brianne could picture that nice, gentlemanly Malcolm McNeill flirting with her grandmother. And how adorable was it that they had a social-media relationship? “But you said you had inside information about what was happening between Gabe and me. What did you mean? Did Gabe’s grandfather share anything about what’s happening in Cheyenne?”

  She couldn’t help the hopefulness in her voice. She ached for a chance to make things right with Gabe, if he would still listen to her after the way she’d walked out on him.

  “He did.” Nana leaned across the table. “He told me—”

  A commotion erupted from the living room. A door opened and closed, and exclamations went up all around—Jason, Nadine and a deeper, masculine voice that was so familiar it hurt.

  Brianne felt hope and fear tangle in a fierce knot inside her belly.

  Nana straightened in her seat. “Well, the cat’s out of the bag now. Sounds like your husband is home, Brianne.”

  Fourteen

  Brianne’s old crush on her boss might have died a swift and brutal death when he’d walked down the aisle with another woman. But as she faced Gabe McNeill again in the living room of the luxuriously appointed apartment—no doubt with eavesdroppers posted at every doorway—she knew that the death of the crush had only made her real feelings for him deepen.

  He would always be staggeringly handsome, charming and wealthier than any man had a right to be. Yet none of those reasons accounted for why she loved him. She just hoped she could make him understand how she felt and why she’d walked away despite his love for her.

  Because Nana was right. She�
�d been too scared to take a risk. But not anymore.

  Now, with Nadine whisking away Jason to give them at least the illusion of privacy, Brianne and Gabe were alone in the living room. She took in the dark suit he had worn for the flight and the aviator sunglasses propped in his hair. As he set a leather duffel bag on the floor at his feet, she studied him more closely, noticing the weary lines around his eyes from traveling. Or was some of that exhaustion more of an emotional variety, like hers? The need to wrap him in her arms was so strong she had to shove her hands in the pockets of her olive-colored cargo pants. She searched for the right words.

  “Gabe—”

  “Brianne—”

  They began at the exact same time, but were out of synch with one another in every way possible.

  “A gentleman would let you speak first,” Gabe continued after a pause, plucking the sunglasses off his head and setting them on a sofa table. “But I’ve thought so damn hard about what I would say to you if you gave me the chance.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to lose my place.”

  Surprised that a man like Gabe would ever be at a loss for words, she simply nodded. But even as she agreed to listen first, she half feared she’d made a mistake. What if he pulled the plug on them before she had a chance to take her risk with him?

  He waved her toward a pair of high-backed chairs positioned side by side looking out onto Central Park. She took a seat blindly, worry twisting her stomach.

  Gabe lowered himself to the seat next to her. “Brianne, I know you saw what it was like for me when Theresa left,” he began.

  The ache in her gut only deepened as she nodded.

  “I fought for her to stay, but not because I was so madly in love with her. I know that makes me a bad husband, but I was furious with myself for falling for a woman so fickle that she rejected our child like that.” The haunted look that passed through Gabe’s eyes might always be there, she realized.

  Maybe this was something that would always be a part of him. Something he’d never “get over.”