A Chesapeake Shores Christmas (5 page)

“I hope you’re right,” Megan said, her earlier confidence slipping despite Bree’s reassuring words.

“Let’s talk flowers,” Bree said. “That will get your mind off of the meeting at the bank. Do you know what you want?”

For the next hour, they pored over Bree’s portfolio of the weddings she’d done, as well as pictures of other floral arrangements. Megan was overwhelmed.

“I was thinking of something much simpler,” she admitted. “Not that I don’t want to give you a huge amount of business, but this wedding is going to be small and quiet. Do you mind if I think about it a little more?”

“Of course not. I actually have a couple of ideas for very simple bouquets that you might like. Maybe I’ll make them up, so you can get a better idea if they’re closer to what you pictured.”

“Would you mind?” Megan asked, pleased.

“Of course not. If we’re not swamped on Friday with all of those Christmas sale shoppers wandering around town, I’ll do it then,” Bree promised. “Stop by sometime in the afternoon.”

“Would you like an extra pair of hands in the morning in case it is busy?” Megan asked. “You shouldn’t be on your feet too much.”

“I have it covered,” Bree assured her. She met Megan’s gaze. “Mom, in case I didn’t make it clear when you and Dad announced your plans, I am really happy for you. I’m especially glad you’ll be here when the baby comes.”

Her eyes misty, Megan pulled her daughter into an embrace. “Me, too, sweetie. Me, too.”

In fact, that was just one of the many reasons she could hardly wait to come home again.

Mick walked into the bank right after he saw Megan leave. He acknowledged Mariah, but walked straight past her and into Lawrence’s office. The banker regarded him with amusement.

“I wondered how long it would take before you showed up,” he said. “You’ve never been able to leave well enough alone when it comes to your family.”

“Have you?” Mick retorted, thinking of Lawrence’s efforts to coerce Trace into taking over the bank, even though Trace’s sister, Laila, was the member of the family who truly loved banking.

“Guilty,” Lawrence admitted. “I assume you’re here to say you’ll back this loan of Megan’s as long as she doesn’t find out about it.”

Mick nodded. “Draw up whatever paperwork you want. I’ll sign it. Give her whatever she asked for.”

Lawrence chuckled. “That’s pretty much what I expected from you, Mick. Would it surprise you to know that I was going to recommend approval based solely on Megan’s business plan?”

Mick didn’t even try to hide his shock. “Really? The plan’s solid?”

“You haven’t seen it?”

“She wouldn’t show it to me,” he said, more disgruntled by that than ever. “Said she had to do this on her own.”

“Good for her,” Lawrence said approvingly. “I think you should let her.” He gave Mick a knowing look. “And as a favor to you, I’ll keep this little meeting just between us. Consider it a wedding present.”

Feeling foolish, Mick nodded. “I appreciate that,” he said. “I don’t suppose you’d let me see that business plan, would you?”

“You probably should ask Megan for a glimpse of it,” Lawrence responded. “But considering our long history and knowing how this secrecy must be killing you, I’ll let you see it.” He handed it across the desk. “I need to run an errand. Those papers don’t leave this room, understood?”

“Of course,” Mick said, pulling out the annoying but necessary pair of reading glasses he kept tucked in his pocket these days.

Already absorbed, he barely noticed when Lawrence left the room. He’d only just made it through Megan’s overview of the gallery’s potential and taken his first glance at her financial estimates, when the door to Lawrence’s office opened and Trace stepped in.

“I heard you were in here,” his son-in-law said. He glanced at the papers in Mick’s hand and added, “I assume that’s Megan’s business plan and her loan application.”

Mick nodded guiltily. “Don’t you dare say one word about this,” he ordered Trace.

“That must mean you’ve gone behind Megan’s back and are trying to interfere,” Trace said knowingly.

“I’m looking out for her, that’s all.”

“Would she see it that way?”

Mick sighed. “Probably not, which is why this stays between the two of us.”

“So, how much of a loan are you secretly guaranteeing?” Trace asked.

“None,” Mick said. “Your father seems to think she doesn’t need my backing.”

At his disgruntled tone, Trace’s grin spread. “That must have annoyed you.”

“Why would it?” Mick lied. “I’m glad she can stand on her own two feet.”

“Really?”

“Well, of course I am.”

“Then you’re more evolved than any of us suspected. Face it, Mick, you like having a finger in all these family pies. It makes you feel needed. How’s it going to work now that you’ve seen that Megan doesn’t need you?”

Though Trace was clearly teasing, Mick was taken aback by the question just the same. Maybe he had counted on Megan needing his financial backing to make this project of hers come together. On some level, he’d probably thought it would be one more thing binding them together.

He stood up abruptly. “I have to go.”

Trace immediately looked guilty. “Hold on, Mick. We both know Megan’s coming back because she loves you. I never meant to suggest anything else.”

“I know,” Mick told him. “Don’t worry about it. There’s just someplace I need to be.”

He had no idea where that place was, but he needed a quiet spot where he could think. When he and Megan were married before, he’d held the financial reins on the relationship, and still she’d left him. She’d loved him even then, but she’d moved away.

Now she was on this whole kick about being independent, doing her own thing on her own terms. Where did that leave him? For the first time since their reconciliation, Mick was genuinely uncertain about the future and a relationship that wasn’t on terms he understood. He didn’t like uncertainty. He didn’t like it one damn bit!

He changed his mind about wanting to be alone. He needed to see Megan, get a few things straight. Megan had said something about stopping by Flowers on Main to see Bree, but when he got there, she’d already gone.

“Dad, is something wrong?” Bree asked worriedly, clearly trying to gauge his odd mood.

“I just need to see your mother, that’s all.”

“Why? Has something happened?”

He thought of the mess with Connor that was about to come to a head, the way Megan was striking out on her own. Not one blasted thing felt right. Just a few short weeks ago when she’d agreed to be his wife again, he’d been on top of the world. Now he had this feeling it was all slipping away.

He sat down and turned a bleak look on Bree. “Did you and your mother make any decisions about the flowers today?”

She frowned at the change of subject, but shook her head. “No, she said she wanted to think about it some more.”

Mick’s heart sank. It was just as he’d feared. She was already having second thoughts.

“She’s going to cancel the wedding,” he said eventually.

Bree looked at him with dismay. “Why on earth would you say that? She didn’t even hint at such a thing to me. She’s thrilled about marrying you again.”

Mick wasn’t buying it. “Just you wait and see.”

“Is there something I don’t know?” Bree asked, looking bewildered. “I swear to you everything seemed fine when she was here. She was a little nervous about her loan application, but that’s all I noticed.”

“Trust me, I know what I’m talking about,” Mick said direly.

Bree gave him an impatient look. “If you actually believe what you’re saying, then why are you here with me? Find Mom and fix whatever it is you think is broken.”

“Did your mother say where she was going?”

“Back to the house, I think.”

“Make me up one of those fancy bouquets of yours,” he told her. “No roses. Tulips, maybe. Pink ones if you have them.”

Bree looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Let me see what I have. I don’t get a lot of requests for pink tulips two days before Thanksgiving.”

“Which is why your mother will think they’re special,” he said. “What about lily of the valley? She loves that.”

“I may have a few sprigs left from the wedding bouquet I made the other day. I’ll see if they’re still fresh.”

Mick nodded. “Good. Now hurry up. I don’t have a lot of time to waste.”

He thought he’d done a pretty good job of courting Megan up to now, enough to get her to finally say yes to his proposal. Something told him, though, with all the hurdles left before them, he was going to have to kick the whole courting thing up a notch to actually get her down the aisle.

5

E
ven though the afternoon was cool and the wind brisk, Megan felt the need to go for a walk on the beach after she got home from seeing Lawrence and then Bree. She put on the fisherman’s knit sweater Mick had brought her from Ireland one year, added a warm jacket and a scarf around her neck, then headed down to the beach.

She’d always been able to think more clearly with the breeze in her hair, the scent of salt in the air and the lap of waves against the shore. It should have been a good day. She’d been given the ideal location for her gallery, her meeting with Lawrence had gone smoothly enough, and it had been nice spending time with Bree making wedding and baby plans. Still, she felt vaguely uneasy, as if something was bound to go awry.

She’d walked along the sand for an hour, until the incoming tide warned her to turn back, when she spotted Mick coming toward her. He wasn’t dressed nearly warmly enough, but he was so handsome he took her breath away. There was something about his windblown hair, the smile lines at the corners of his eyes and the way he looked in a pair of jeans that had the power to make her knees go weak even after all these years. The fact that he was carrying an armload of what looked incongruously like pink tulips made her smile.

“Did you walk halfway to Annapolis?” he inquired testily when he finally looked up and spotted her.

“Not quite,” she said, then nodded toward the flowers. “Whose garden did you plunder? It can’t have been anywhere around here this time of the year.”

“I thought you might like something to remind you of spring,” he said, holding them out awkwardly. “Bree tucked some lily of the valley in there, too.”

Megan buried her face in the flowers, then beamed at him. “I can smell it. Thank you. What’s the occasion?”

He regarded her with an uneasy expression. “We’ve spent a lot of time lately worrying about other people and business, that kind of thing. I just wanted to put a little romance back into our relationship before we get off on the wrong track.” He gave her an earnest look. “Meggie, whatever else happens, I don’t want you to forget I love you.”

Touched by the gesture and the heartfelt emotion in his words, she reached up and put her hand against his cheek. “As if I could ever forget that, Mick. I love you, too. I always have, even when I was most infuriated with you.”

“Then promise me we won’t let anything throw us off course,” he said. “Whatever comes our way, we’ll handle it together, talk it out.”

His tone alerted her that he had something in particular on his mind. He wasn’t the kind of man to encourage better communication just on a whim. She studied him with a narrowed gaze.

“What are you worried about, Mick? What is it you think might throw us off course?”

“Nothing specific,” he insisted.

Megan kept her gaze locked with his and immediately saw his words for the lie they were. For all of his many flaws, he’d never been any good at shading the truth, much less lying outright. “Mick, tell me.”

He took her free arm and tucked it though his, then pulled her closer to his side. “I’m just afraid that this disagreement with Connor will come between us, or that you’ll get so caught up in your new business you won’t have time for us.”

“Now, wouldn’t that be turning the tables?” she said lightly. “You’d have a taste of your own medicine.” She regarded him seriously. “But I’m not marrying you so I’ll have the chance to retaliate for the past. Surely you can’t believe I would be that petty?”

Mick frowned at the comment. “Maybe that’s not your intention, but things change, Megan. There’d be a certain irony, if they did.”

“Do you honestly think that I, of all people, would let that happen, Mick? After all of my complaints when you put family on the back burner, how could you think for a second I would do the same thing?”

“You’re awfully determined to make this new business of yours a success. Nobody understands that kind of drive better than I do.”

She realized he was genuinely worried about such a thing coming to pass. “Mick, if it seems for even a minute that my priorities are out of order, you have my permission to call me on it. I want this business to succeed. I expect it to be fun and professionally satisfying, maybe even financially rewarding, but once you and I take our vows, whenever that is, you and our family will be my top priority.”

“I would have said the same thing years ago,” he reminded her, not sounding reassured. “I thought I was working so hard for my family, instead of stealing time from them.”

“This won’t be the same,” she swore. “I promise. It’s to be a small gallery, right here in Chesapeake Shores, not a nationally known architectural firm in demand from one coast to the other.”

She studied him out of the corner of her eye. He didn’t seem to be entirely satisfied by her response. “Mick, what else is going on in that head of yours?”

“I’ve just been thinking that here I am, semiretired, spending most of my time these days on volunteer projects, and you’re about to launch a new venture. It takes time and commitment to do that successfully. How’s it going to work if I say, let’s pick up and go on a trip, on the spur of the moment? We’re at a time in our lives when we should be able to be impulsive, to indulge ourselves. You’re going to be all tied up with work.”

“Ever heard of delegating?” she asked, then laughed. “Of course you haven’t! That’s why you were always racing around to every single job site around the country with barely a stop back here to take a breath.”

“Need I remind you, I’ve changed?” he retorted indignantly. “Jaime’s doing all the running now.”

“Thank goodness for that,” she said. “But, you see, I’ve always understood about delegating. I’m going to find an assistant manager who’s as good at the job as I am, and then trust him or her to do it, just the way Phillip did with me.”

He met her gaze. “Is that a promise?”

There was an urgency in his voice she didn’t entirely understand, but she nodded. “Absolutely. Mick, we’re going to make this work. If I didn’t believe that, I never would have said yes to your proposal.”

They walked in silence for a bit, still arm in arm, as the sun fell lower in the sky. The chill in the air turned more biting, and Megan shivered.

Mick glanced over at her and stopped. “I know just the thing to keep you warm,” he said, a mischievous grin lighting his eyes.

“Hot chocolate?” she asked hopefully. “We’re still fairly far from home. You don’t have a thermos tucked in your pocket, do you? Or a flask with something stronger?”

“Better than that,” he said, pulling her to him. He took the bouquet and set it on a boulder, then lowered his mouth to cover hers.

Heat spiraled through Megan, warming her down to her toes. It was the kind of heat that led straight to temptation. More than that, though, it was the kind of heat that reminded her that Mick O’Brien would always provide whatever she needed, from the most basic things in life to the most sweetly romantic and frivolous, like those poor, half-frozen tulips.

Whatever worries had gotten under his skin today to make him doubt the future, she didn’t share them. At least not today. Right now she knew, above all else, that she was safe in this man’s arms…and always would be.

On Wednesday morning, Mick found Nell in the kitchen muttering under her breath as she pulled the pumpkin pies for tomorrow’s dinner from the oven. She’d be baking mincemeat next, then apple—that is, if she didn’t let her temper get the better of her and walk out of the kitchen.

“Is there a problem, Ma?”

“You tell me,” she said, glancing up at him with a scowl. “Connor just called to wish me a happy Thanksgiving. He says he’s not coming home.” She regarded him accusingly. “I thought you were going to fix this, Mick. Even through all the years you and your brothers have been sparring, there hasn’t been a single holiday this family hasn’t been together. Now’s no time to change that.”

Mick stilled, stricken by the reality that his argument with his son could well ruin the family holiday. He gave his mother a look filled with regret. “To be honest, I don’t know how,” he admitted.

“Of course you do,” Nell said impatiently. “An apology would be a good start.”

“I’m not the one—”

His mother cut him off. “Do you want to be right or do you want your son here for Thanksgiving?” Mick winced.

“Megan will blame herself for this unless you tell her otherwise,” Nell said. “Are you willing to let her shoulder the guilt when it should be you?”

“Guilt about what?” Megan asked, walking into the kitchen just in time to overhear the end of the conversation.

Mick exchanged a look with his mother, but could think of no way to sugarcoat the news. “Connor won’t be here tomorrow.”

Predictably, Megan’s face fell. “I see.”

She turned and left the room, but not before Mick saw the sheen of tears in her eyes.

“See what I mean?” his mother said to him. “She’s blaming herself.”

“I’ll go after her,” Mick said, resigning himself to making some uncomfortable explanations.

“Let me,” Nell said, handing him the pot holders. “Take the other pie out of the oven.”

Since he had no earthly idea what he could possibly say to put a smile back on Megan’s face, he let his mother go. But the minute he’d removed the pie from the oven and set it on the rack to cool, he grabbed his cell phone and called his son.

Connor answered, his voice wary. “What do you want, Dad?”

“I could lie and say I called to wish you a happy Thanksgiving, but we both know I’m not exactly pleased with you at the moment.”

“That goes both ways,” Connor said.

Mick tried to find the words to make amends without retracting his displeasure with Connor’s stance. “Look, I know I told you to stay away, but I said it in the heat of the moment.” He drew in a deep breath and forced himself to add, “Tomorrow’s a holiday. You should be here celebrating with the rest of us.”

“No, Dad, you were right to tell me not to come home,” Connor said, surprising him. “I don’t think I could sit there with everyone tomorrow and pretend I’m happy that you and Mom are back together. It’s best that I stay away.”

Mick had expected Connor to seize the opening, not throw it back in his face. Tamping down his frustration, he tried again. “Connor, I’m trying to say I’m sorry, that I made a mistake,” Mick said. “Just accept my apology and come home.”

“Too late. I’ve made other plans,” Connor told him.

“What plans?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Connor said. “They don’t include a visit to Chesapeake Shores and a meal I wouldn’t be able to choke down.”

Mick lost patience. “So instead you’ll stay away and spoil the day for all of us? I didn’t raise you to be that selfish, son.”

“You didn’t raise me at all,” Connor retorted. “Gram did.”

The barb was a direct hit, but Mick had an answer for it. “Well, we certainly know she didn’t raise you to behave like this.”

“How is this any different from the way you treat Uncle Thomas and Uncle Jeff?”

“Since both of your uncles and their families have always been welcomed here on holidays, no matter what my personal feelings, I’d say my actions speak for themselves.”

“Well, I won’t be a hypocrite.”

“Boy, you need to watch who you’re calling a hypocrite,” Mick said grimly.

“Dad, I’m going to hang up before we both say things we’re going to regret. I do wish you all a happy Thanksgiving. I’ve called Abby, Bree, Jess and Kevin.”

“And what did they have to say when you announced you were boycotting the family celebration?”

“Pretty much what you said,” he admitted. “That I’m being a selfish jerk.”

“If you won’t listen to me, maybe you should listen to them.”

“I’m not coming, Dad. Sorry.”

“I notice you didn’t mention a call to your mother. I assume you have no intention of apologizing to her. You’ll just let her feel guilty for keeping you away.”

“Dad, you’re the one who ordered me to stay away. You can do any explaining that’s necessary.”

He hung up before Mick could counter with another argument. Not that he had any. To his regret, Connor was proving he was more stubborn than all the rest of them combined, and that was saying something.

Late that night after Nell had gone to bed and the rest of the family had left, Megan turned to Mick.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” she began quietly.

Mick knew what was coming and tried to forestall her. “Don’t, Meggie.”

“No, I have to say this, Mick. I think we need to postpone the wedding. I know I’ve mentioned the possibility before, but my mind’s made up this time. How can we have a wedding when we’ve made Connor so miserable that he won’t even celebrate Thanksgiving with the family? It would be wrong.”

Mick winced. Whatever his mother had said to Megan earlier, she’d left the truth to him. He drew in a deep breath, then admitted, “Connor’s upset about the wedding, yes, but there’s more. It isn’t all about us.”

She regarded him blankly. “More?”

“You know he and I had a disagreement,” Mick began, feeling a flush climb into his cheeks. There was no way around an admission of his part in this now. Avoiding her gaze, he said, “What you don’t know is that I told him to stay away.”

Megan stared at him, clearly aghast. “You told your own son to stay away on Thanksgiving?”

“No, I told him to stay away, period.”

“Oh, Mick, how could you? This is his home.”

“Okay, I know it’s bad. I was wrong, but I was angry,” Mick said.

“That’s no excuse.”

“Look, I called him today and apologized, okay? I even pleaded with him to come tomorrow, but he turned me down flat.” He gave her a defiant look. “That’s the last time I grovel for anything with that boy.”

“Somehow I doubt you did much groveling,” Megan said wryly. “It’s not in your nature. You probably just ordered him to come tomorrow the same way you’d told him to stay away.”

“The point is, I made an effort. He refuses to do the same. He’s just dug in his heels and is refusing to listen to reason.”

Megan gave him a sad smile. “Does that sound like anyone else we know?”