A Gift for All Seasons (20 page)

The whole downstairs smelled of herbed roast chicken and grilled vegetables and seafood stew, chocolate and browned butter and fresh baked rolls. For now, the restaurant was only open five nights a week, although the plan was to quickly move to seven, since by the end of their first week of business, the tiny dining room had been filled most of the evening. Mel had been beside herself with glee. As had April, needless to say.

“Hey, Sylvia! How’s it going?”

A shy smile preceded, “Fine, Ms. Ross. And you?”

After weeks of interviewing and bemoaning the lack of decent candidates, Mel finally found someone she felt she could train to her exacting standards, the granddaughter of an old farmer Mel’s mother would take them all to visit from time to time during those childhood summers. Tall, thin and almost eerily focused, the pretty young woman chopped salad veggies at the island work station, her long, chocolate-brown dreads tied back with what looked like cooking string...a modest engagement diamond winking on her left ring finger.

Then April turned to Mel, and wouldn’t you know her eyes went right to Mel’s pink diamond ring, as well, and April’s own finger itched, the groove not yet filled in, and she practically rolled her eyes at herself for being a ding-dong.

“Try the sauce for the chicken, see what you think,” Mel said as she disappeared into the pantry, a room nearly as big as the guest bedrooms.

April took a spoon from the drawer, tasted. Pulled her eyes back into her head. “Fabulous—”

“Damn,” came from the pantry. “Hey, Sylvia—didn’t Anderson’s deliver more olive oil today?”

“Yesterday. But I thought we had an extra can, anyway.” The girl left the table to join Mel in the pantry. April heard rummaging, some mild cussing. She took another taste of the sauce. Shivered.

“I did, too,” Mel said. “I must’ve used more than I realized.”

“You want me to run into town and get more?” Sylvia offered.

“But then I don’t have you here—”

“I’ll do it,” April said, tearing herself away from the sauce. “The Eddlestons look pretty settled for a while, and Todd can take care of things for a half hour. Tell me exactly what you need.”

Which is how it came to pass that, fifteen minutes later, April pulled up in front of St. Mary’s only reasonably sized food market to find Patrick squatting off to the side by the front door, doing his best to console a sobbing four-year-old in a complete meltdown.

Chapter Ten

“A
nything I can do?”

Barely able to hear over Lili’s wails, Patrick’s head shot up, his heart knocking when he saw April. And if it was wrong to be glad to see her—to see anybody who wasn’t giving him dirty and/or pitying looks right now—then, tough.

Until he realized her words didn’t exactly match the what-do-I-do-now? expression on her face.

Shaking his head, he pushed himself to his feet, hauling his sobbing daughter into his arms and cupping her head to his shoulder as she howled. He just kept hugging and shushing, hugging and shushing, occasionally catching April still standing there, her face all scrunched up like she really did want to make it better, even if she didn’t know how. But not like Lili’s display particularly bothered her. Then some old biddy Patrick didn’t know must’ve said something April took offense to—he couldn’t exactly hear, but he got the gist—because she swung around and said something back and the biddy scurried off.

Then, without further ado, she pried Lili out of his arms, went over to a nearby bench and sat down with her, stroking her hair and singing to her or something.
Yeah, good luck with that,
he wanted to say, except damned if the wails didn’t get softer, until after a couple seconds Lili slumped against April’s chest, stuck her thumb in her mouth and basically passed out.

Ripped him right in two. Even more than he’d been before.

Blowing out a breath, Patrick sank onto the bench beside them, his thoughts jumbled up yet again, that it should be Natalie holding Lili. Except it wasn’t, it was April. Crazy, fearless April who wasn’t about to let a little thing like not knowing what the hell she was doing stop her from
trying,
and if Patrick didn’t know better he might think he’d fallen for her.

Oh,
hell,
no,
he thought even as he said, “How’d you do that?”

“I have no idea,” April whispered. “And I didn’t mean to overstep, I swear, but it occurred to me maybe she was picking up on your tension.”

She shifted the toddler to lay her head on Lili’s curls, those big turquoise eyes boring right into his, and everything inside him ached. Like, you know, he wanted to keep her.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Darned if I know...no, wait. When I got her out of her car seat, she took off and I had to run after her. Scared the sh—uh, crud out of me. I might’ve come on a little strong when I said ‘no’ since she gave me this really strange look. But she didn’t lose it until we got into a tussle about her sitting in the cart.”

April chuckled, both easing the knot and tightening it more, which made no sense whatsoever. “Little Miss Independent?” she said.

“You can say that again. You really weren’t bothered? By her, um, display?”

Another chuckle preceded, “After living with my mother-in-law, trust me, an occasionally crabby four-year-old holds no terror.”

Lili jerked awake, tilted her head back to give April a confused look, then lunged for Patrick. He grabbed her, getting a whiff of April as he did, stirring up all manner of thoughts highly inappropriate to the occasion. Especially when he noticed her arms clamped across her middle, like something had been ripped away from her, as well as the slight hurt in her eyes when Lili snuggled up to him and once more conked out.

“Thanks,” he said, wondering if the world would implode if he leaned over and kissed her. Or he would, if he didn’t. It’d been two days since their last encounter, since he’d heard her laugh, felt her smile heat him through. Two days of walking around feeling like he was constantly hungry. “Guess you came along at the right time.”

“Guess so,” she said, hooking her purse over her shoulder as she stood, and the thought of them going their separate ways, like this was only some chance encounter between acquaintances, suddenly annoyed him no end—

Own it, bonehead
.

Whatever this is between you
, own
it.

His head spinning, he got to his feet as well, Lili heavy in his arms. An elderly couple came out of the store, the woman giving Lili a little “Aw, isn’t she an angel?” before they moved on to their car. The knot eased up some. Then he noticed April’s funny little smile.

“How are you going to do your shopping?”

“I’ll just pick up what I most need for now, come back later—”

“I don’t know what to do here,” she said softly, and Patrick’s stomach jumped.

“What?”

A breeze ruffled her hair; she tugged off her tortoiseshell headband, shoved it back into place. “I’d like to invite you and Lili back to the inn for dinner, except I’m afraid you’d feel threatened, that I was being too pushy. I mean, I understand your concern about Lili, I do—I’d probably be the same way if she were mine. But...” She hauled in a breath. “But I also can’t help feeling you’re...you’re using her as a reason to hold yourself back, so you don’t have to explore what’s going on between us.”

Annoyance heated his skin, even as his brother-in-law’s words echoed underneath his skull. “And that’s a crock.”

“Is it?” she said gently, giving him one of those steady looks that both turned him on and made him antsy as all hell.

Patrick half wanted to bolt, half wanted to give in to the pull, to let himself feed off all that sweet strength until he was sated. If that were even possible.

He waited until a woman with two kids passed and went into the store. “I thought we agreed this was only between us.”

“How is that even possible? Lili’s not only a huge part of your life, she’s part of who you are. And my heart...” Her lips barely curved, she looked at Lili, then back at him. “There’s a lot of room in there, Patrick. A
lot
of room. And the thing is, I’ve already been in one limited relationship, even if the parameters were diametrically opposite of this one. Yes, I know...by my choice. But what can I say? My concept of ‘it’ll do’ has expanded.”

“Meaning you’ve decided to change the rules.”

“Meaning I was wrong to accept those rules to begin with. Then again, I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly at that point,” she said with a smirk which immediately shifted to a frown as she laid her hand on his arm. “As much as I’m enjoying what we have, I know that ultimately it’s not going to be enough. I want more, Patrick. I
deserve
more. Or at least I deserve the opportunity to see if there could be more. And you know what?”

She leaned toward him and whispered, “So do
you. You and that precious little girl, both,” before turning to go into the store.

His breathing ragged, Patrick shifted Lili in his arms and stalked back to his truck, deciding he’d rather pay the jacked-up prices for milk and bread at the 7-Eleven than risk running into April again in the supermarket. Dammit, where did she get off saying this stuff? She didn’t know him, didn’t know Lili, and for damn sure didn’t know what either of them needed, or deserved. Or even wanted, when it came right down to it. Only, once he got his sacked-out kid in her seat and himself behind the wheel, it felt like somebody slapped the back of his head.

He glanced at his daughter, a tiny frown etched in her brow as she slept, then faced front again, doing some heavy-duty frowning of his own.

Own
it?

At this point, he didn’t even know how to borrow it.

* * *

“What took you so long?” Mel barked, snatching the can of oil out of April’s hands when she walked in, yanking off the lid and pouring some into a cast-iron pan on the stove. April exchanged a glance with Sylvia, who gave a little shrug and went back to artistically arranging things on plates.

“I ran into Patrick. And Lili.” April plunked her purse at the far end of the counter and snitched a parboiled mini carrot slated for candying from the bowl beside the stove. “Poor kid was in a heap by the store’s front door, sobbing her heart out.” When she went for another carrot, Mel lightly smacked the top of her hand with a wooden spoon.

“Yeah, Quinn was the mistress of losing it in public. Love the way people look at you like ‘Why are you beating your kid?’ Or, better, ‘Why
aren’t
you beating that kid?’” She added a good chunk of butter to the oil, dumped the carrots into the sizzling mixture. “So what happened?”

Good question. “I took her from Patrick, then sat with her until she calmed down. Like I knew what I was doing and everything.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Well, until Lili realized I wasn’t her daddy and practically broke something trying to get back to him.”

Mel chuckled. “Don’t take it personally, hon. Kids aren’t known for their diplomatic skills.”

“I know, but...” April clamped shut her mouth.

That got a narrowed gaze. “Keep going.”

Although April still wasn’t dispensing details, her sleeping with Patrick wasn’t exactly a secret. Even so, she waited until Sylvia left to use the bathroom before sharing her recent revelation—and her half-baked dinner invitation—with her cousin. “Although I doubt he even remembers it,” she sighed out. “Besides, I really should have asked you first—”

“Are you kidding? We could probably feed his entire Shaughnessy clan with the leftovers alone. No, that was good. Tossing the ball in his court.”

“Which he handily dodged.” Another sigh. “Probably because I’m acting like some stalking teenybopper.”

“More like a woman with the stones to tell a man what she really wants.” Stirring, Mel gave her a thumbs-up.

“Only now I’ve scared him away.”

“I doubt it,” Mel said, spooning in some brown sugar and a generous drizzle of balsamic vinegar. “Then again, men are weird. They
say
they want us to be up-front so they don’t have to guess what we’re thinking. But when we are, they get all bent out of shape. They also get over it. Usually.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Mel gave April’s arm a quick squeeze, then turned off the flame under the carrots, moving the pan from the burner. “Um...Ry and I set a date, by the way.”

Dragging herself away from her pity party, April grinned. “Oh, yeah? When?”

“Early June. Right there in the gazebo. If that’s okay with you?”

“Of course! But not at his parents’ house?”

Mel gave April a look. “Yeah, right.”

“I thought you said you were past all that.”

“I am.” Her mouth flattened. “Okay, his folks and I are working on it. But I’d rather get married here, anyway. You think Aunt Tilda and Uncle Ed would come?”

“Oh, gosh, who knows?” she said as Mel went to the main sink to wash her hands. “Although I suppose miracles do happen.”

But honestly...did human beings have a hard time with letting go of the past, or what?

“Well, would you lookee there?” Mel said softly, peering outside.

“What?” April joined her, only to gasp when she saw Patrick and an unusually subdued Lili, her hand fast in his as they made their way toward the back entrance. He glanced up, giving a little wave when he saw April in the window.

“Holy cannoli, girl.” Chuckling, Mel elbowed April in the arm. “You
rule
.”

Not hardly,
she thought as she met them at the back door, smiling for the obviously skeptical Lili before lifting her gaze to the child’s equally skeptical father.

Hiking Lili into his arms, his eyes caressed hers, fear warring with obvious longing as something like a smile pulled at his mouth. “Okay. Let’s try this your way.”

A huge step for him, she knew. Even if one with no guarantees.

“Deal,” she said, welcoming them inside.

* * *

On her knees in front of a box of ornaments hauled from Frannie’s house, April slid her gaze to Patrick where he sat on his sofa gamely trying to untangle a wad of lights...in between casting worried glances in his child’s direction. Beside April, said child rummaged through said box, occasionally holding up one for April to admire and breaking her heart in the process. Because a week later, April had learned three things: 1) she loved Lilianna with all her heart; 2) she loved the little girl’s daddy even more; and 3) managing an inn was a walk in the park compared with breaking the pair of them out of their emotional prison.