Happily Ever After Page 8

  Tess sighed. He was right, of course. But she said, “Maybe by then, if you try and are truly invested, you can attempt to make things better somehow with Pierce.”

  Her father snorted derisively. “That stubborn ass will never have it. He holds grudges; it’s one of the few things we have in common. And now he’s going to be a father?” Charles II huffed out a laugh. “Good luck to that baby.”

  A split second of ire made her stomach twist. Her younger brother was a good man, in spite of what her father had said, done, or still thought. “Merry Christmas,” she said and turned her back on her father to cross the room, back to the safe haven of her older brothers.

  She shook off the irritation as she walked. Starting his usual crap on Christmas? His problem, not hers. Pierce had completely shunned him, as he’d said. Charles and Dane still talked to him, showed up at family occasions and the like, but both had withdrawn considerably. She was the only one of the four siblings who still tried to maintain a good relationship with their difficult father. Times like this, she wondered why. Why was she still being the dutiful daughter after all these years? She did love her father, but she didn’t like him, so it’d been a habit she hadn’t been able to break, even though it led to frustration more often than satisfaction.

  As she retook her seat with her brothers and sisters-in-law, someone turned on Christmas music, likely a member of her father’s household staff. A classical arrangement of “Silent Night” played softly, Charlotte let out a high-pitched peal of delight as her father lifted her over his head once again, the adults around them smiled and laughed, the voices of others rose in a low but merry cacophony of sound. Charles smiled broadly and dropped tiny kisses all over his baby’s face and she squealed and wiggled in delight. A pang hit Tess’s heart, and she suddenly felt tears sting the backs of her eyes. It was such a heartwarming scene . . . she thought of her own dreams for a family . . . and something clicked inside her, soft but sure. The feelings whooshed through her, filling her with something like anticipation and excitement, almost leaving her breathless. It was time.

  “I’m leaving,” she blurted out.

  Charles and Lisette hadn’t heard her, but Dane and Julia’s heads swiveled to look at her. “What?” Dane asked, as if he hadn’t heard her correctly.

  “Why?” Julia asked, her hazel eyes narrowing to study her. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine. But I’m leaving. As in leaving New York,” Tess said, only formulating the plan as the words poured from her mouth. She’d been thinking of it for weeks, but something prodded at her now, pushed up from inside and flooded out. “I’m going away for a while. I need to go. So I am.”

  All eyes were on her now, rounded with shock. Dane gaped, his mouth an O of surprise. Charles stared hard at his sister as Lisette gently took their baby from his arms. “What’s going on, Tess?” he asked softly, as if talking to a wounded animal.

  Tess set her cup on a nearby end table before turning back to them. Again she swept the heavy mass of her long curls over her shoulders. Her heart rate was climbing, but now that she’d said the words, they made more sense than anything had in a long time. “I need to be by myself for a little while. To change things up. So I’m going to go to Aspen and stay at the house there. You’ll be in Cancún for most of January,” she said to Dane, “and you’ll be at the Palm Beach house for two weeks,” she said to Charles. “So neither of you will be using the ski house. I am. I’m just letting you all know.”

  Dane made a sound that sounded like sputtering.

  “Why is this the first we’re hearing of it?” Charles asked.

  “Umm, because I don’t have to report to anyone,” Tess replied evenly.

  “I didn’t mean to insinuate that and you know it,” Charles said, shifting forward in his seat. His eyes, the bright marine-blue they’d all inherited from their mother, were now focused like lasers on Tess. “If you need to take a break, of course you should. I’m just surprised.”

  “Ten minutes ago we were talking about Cancún and you didn’t even mention it.” Dane was equally focused on her, studying her as if sensing something was off. “So yeah, this seems like it’s coming out of nowhere.”

  “And if it is?” Tess inquired sharply. “So what?”

  “You guys are acting like her parents,” Julia remarked. “Might want to take it down a notch.”

  “She’s right,” Lisette said, bouncing Charlotte on her knees.

  “We are not,” Charles said, but it came out weak with recognition.

  Dane kept staring at his sister. “How long will you be gone?”

  “I’m not sure,” Tess admitted. But she knew what she really wanted to do, so why not do it? Throw herself into researching sperm donors, in vitro, whatever it would take to help her have the baby she so desperately wanted. Be away from stress and prying eyes, cleanse her body and mind . . . “At least two months, I think. Until the end of February, probably. Maybe more. I’ll see.”

  The wave of shock was palpable as her brothers and their wives all exchanged brief glances of astonishment. Charles got to his feet. “Come on, Tess. Let’s find a quiet place to talk.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” Tess said, looking up at him. It was so strange, the way she felt utterly calm and pulsing with exhilaration at the same time. The adrenaline rush was invigorating. “I’m merely telling you all that I’m going away for a while. It’s not up for discussion. End of story.”

  “Bullshit,” Charles said tersely. He crouched in front of his sister, took her hands in his, and stared into her face, searching. “What the hell’s going on?”

  “I’m with him,” Dane said, scooting to the edge of his chair and leaning toward her. “Did something happen? This just seems so sudden and—”

  “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, actually,” Tess said. “New Year’s just around the corner. I need something new. I need a change. So . . . I’m going to just go somewhere else for a while.”

  “Please give us something more here,” Charles implored. “I’m worried about you now.”

  “Me too,” Dane said. “What he said. Tess, honey . . .”

  She smiled at both of them, squeezing Charles’s hands before pulling them free. “There’s nothing wrong. I’m fine.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Charles said.

  “Okay.” She rose to stand and he mirrored her.

  “Talk to me,” he whispered fiercely.

  Dane stood too, reaching out to grasp her elbow. “When are you leaving?”

  “Day after tomorrow,” Tess said, deciding as she said the words.

  “What?” Charles hissed at the same time as Dane asked, “Why so soon?”

  “You both act like I’m heading off to parts unknown without a note,” Tess said. She was touched by their concern, but at the same time so excited to move forward with her new plan, she couldn’t get away from them and out of the mansion fast enough. “I’m not going to Tibet; I’m going to Colorado. To the ski house the three of us own together, so I believe you have the address.”

  “Don’t be cute. This isn’t like you and you know it!” Charles bit out, eyes flashing. “You can’t be surprised that we’re so surprised, much less that we’re concerned. You don’t make spontaneous plans and you don’t go away for months at a time, definitely not without talking about it with one of us first.”

  Tess nodded, a smile spreading slowly on her face. “You’re right. That’s why it feels so good, I guess.”

  Charles and Dane both stared at her, speechless.

  “Let her go, guys,” Julia said from her seat.

  “Stop mothering her,” Lisette added softly.

  Charles jolted as if he’d been hit, looking to his wife, who only nodded.

  “Tess,” Dane said, “you can’t just leave without telling us a little more than, ‘I’m outta here, see ya in a few months.’ Come on. If it was one of us pulling this, you’d be flipping out. So just talk to us.”

&nbs
p; “All right. I will. Tomorrow. But now, I have things to do. Be with your loved ones.” She leaned in to kiss Charles on the cheek, then Dane. She moved away to give quick hugs to her sisters-in-law and an adoring snuggle to her baby niece. Then she turned to them all and said, “Merry Christmas. Talk to you tomorrow. I have to get packing.” And before any of them could utter another word, she walked across the long room to say a few more good-byes so she could get out of there.

  Even as she hugged her older niece and nephews, Tess felt invigorated. Brimming with excitement, she couldn’t wait to get going. She had a lot to take care of if she was going to leave in less than forty-eight hours, and she absolutely intended to make good on her word. She was a woman of action, dammit, and now that she’d decided to take action, nothing would stop her from seeing her whole plan through.

  * * *

  Logan Carter checked the thermostat once more before turning to sweep his eyes across the long, wide room. He’d been the house manager for the Harrison family’s ski house for the past five years, so he knew well what needed to be done before one of them arrived.

  He’d already done his weekly house check for the place on Tuesday, as he always did when none of the Harrisons had visited in a while. So he knew the heat, water, all of that, were already in working order. He’d turned the lights on so Tess wouldn’t walk into a dark house. Well, he amended mentally, Tess and likely her tiny white dog, which often came with her. The wood was all stacked, both out in the back and some in the iron stand by the fireplace. He double-checked that the wood, paper, and fire starter were in place in the large stone hearth. Then he straightened the area rugs.

  Scrubbing a hand over his full beard as his eyes canvassed the spacious living room one last time, he mentally ticked off the checklist in his head. He’d made sure to put some potted poinsettia plants on the mantel above the fireplace, on the long dining room table and living room coffee table, and on tables by the front door and up in the master bedroom to add splashes of color for her. He didn’t make that personal touch for many of his clients, but he did leave cut flowers for some; the ones he knew appreciated it. The Harrisons, both Tess and her brothers, were good people he respected, and he knew she’d appreciate the gesture.

  Ah, who was he kidding? He did it for Tess because he liked her. She was plain nice and goddamned gorgeous. Not many women caught his eye anymore, but she always had. He could admit a . . . tiny crush, if he had to label it, to himself. Hell, he was a thirty-eight-year-old man, fit and prime—he couldn’t imagine any normal man could resist a tiny crush on a woman like Tess Harrison.

  Even if she’d stung him with an insult last year that he still hadn’t shaken off.

  One day he’d been over there to take out the trash as he always did twice a week. Tess had struck up a conversation with him, mentioned she’d gone hiking up the mountain by herself the evening before, making it home just before dusk.

  “By yourself? Close to dark?” His eyes had narrowed.

  “Um, yeah.” She’d cocked her head at him and put her hands on her hips. “Jeez, I know I’m a city girl and all, but sometimes I think you seem to think I can’t take care of myself.”

  He’d actually blushed. “No, no, I didn’t mean to—that is, I’m sorry if it seems that way. I just . . .” He’d huffed out a laugh, a mixture of frustration and self-deprecation. “Look, my master’s certificate was in disaster mental health and trauma studies—crisis counseling, dealing with disasters—so my mind has a tendency to go to a worst-case scenario.” His shoulders lifted as he shifted his stance and admitted, “What I’m trying to say is, it means I worry about people. I never meant to imply you’re not a capable woman. If it seemed that way, I sincerely apologize.”

  “No apologies necessary. That you worry about people is . . . nice.” She’d stared at him with a look of amazement. “Um . . . that’s an interesting thing. The certificate. You have a master’s degree?”

  “Yeah. In social work. Why?”

  “No reason. I was merely curious. I . . .” She’d cocked her head to the side, studying him as if she’d found a rare specimen or something. “I’m just surprised. I mean, you work here, doing this for a living, so . . .”

  Something in his gut churned. He’d always thought her not to be one of the megarich megasnobs. He’d pegged her as not entitled and kinder, an exception to the rule. Man, did he hate being wrong on that one. It stung more than he’d thought it should. But he’d schooled his features into neutrality. “Ahh. You didn’t think a big lumberjack type like me would be so highly educated, huh?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” she’d said, but her face had started to bloom hot pink.

  “Uh-huh.” His temper had flared, but he kept his voice cool. “Well. Hate to burst your bubble, but I actually graduated summa cum laude.”

  He’d watched her marine-blue eyes widen a bit as the color bloomed in her face, betraying her.

  “Logan, I didn’t mean to imply you were—” She’d visibly cringed, and he took some comfort in that. “It’s obvious you’re a smart man, but I didn’t think you’d have a master’s, that’s all.”

  “Because I’m a house manager for a living? Careful, Miss Harrison,” he’d said slowly. He grinned, a hollow one, and couldn’t keep himself from adding, “Your blue blood’s showing.”

  That blood had flooded her face, but she hadn’t looked away. “Again, I really didn’t mean it the way it sounded. But if that’s how you perceived it, I apologize. It sounded horribly judgmental and I’m very sorry.”

  He’d shaken his head, his grin leisurely, belying the burn he’d felt in his chest. “Don’t sweat it.”

  “No, I am sweating it. You were right; I made an unfair assumption. I’m sorry.” She’d peered up at him more closely. “But I admit it, now I’m curious. How’d a guy with a master’s in social work end up being a house manager for a living? Must be an interesting journey there. I’d love to hear it.”

  “No, you wouldn’t.” He hadn’t meant to sound churlish, but it had come out as something of a growl. “Trust me.”

  “Um . . . okay.” She’d looked sheepish. His sharp words had been a reprimand, clearly not what she’d expected, and she’d blinked before clearing her throat. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

  He’d quietly said good-bye and walked away.

  That was last March, almost a year ago, and it still burned his ass when he thought of it. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out why. He’d always thought she wasn’t uppity and haughty like most of his superwealthy clients . . . between that incorrect assessment and the tiny crush he’d always harbored, her disparaging words had stung, left a bad taste in his mouth. She’d gone back home two days after that, so they hadn’t spoken again—he hadn’t even seen her, only talked to her briefly on the phone about closing the house up. And when he’d gotten there, the house feeling empty without her presence, he’d found a cream-colored envelope on the granite kitchen counter with his name on it. She’d left two crisp hundred-dollar bills for him, a generous and unnecessary tip that was likely more about assuaging her guilt than his skills, which had only served to leave him even more agitated.

  Plain and simple, he’d been disappointed—both that he’d thought her to be different and that he’d been wrong about her. Hell, she’d apologized immediately and seemed truly mortified that she’d insulted him, and he’d believed her when she’d said she hadn’t meant to insult him at all. But the damage was done; it’d changed how he thought of her.

  Now, as if on cue, he heard activity outside. Running a hand through his hair and over his beard, Logan went to meet his formerly favorite client.

  Opening the front door, he waved as he made his way down the steps and to the driveway to meet the sleek black Escalade parked there. The driver was already at the back, pulling out suitcases, and Logan heard the familiar yippy bark of Bubbles, Tess’s Maltese, from inside the truck. A grin curved his lips. He couldn’t help it; he liked that dog. She w
as spunky and cute as could be.

  “How’s it goin’, Clay?” Logan said to the chauffeur with a quick handshake.

  “Hey, Carter. Goin’ fine, thanks. You?” Clay asked as he grabbed another suitcase.

  “Fine. Here, let me help you with those.”

  “Nah, I’ve got ’em.” Clay hauled out the last bag. “I’ll take these straight into the foyer.”

  “If you insist. Door’s open. Good to see you.”

  “You too. Take care.”

  Logan turned to see Tess emerge from the truck and his breath caught. Damn. Seeing her never failed to stir something inside him. She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen with his own eyes, anywhere, ever. Her dark corkscrew curls tumbled down the back of her red parka, almost to her very fine ass. Standing tall at five foot ten, her height might have intimidated other men, but Logan was six-four, so he liked that he didn’t have to look too far down to talk to her. Her willowy body was made to glide and strut down a catwalk, but she’d likely dismiss the notion. Those long, long legs were encased in black leggings and knee-high black leather boots and he admired them as discreetly as possible. He’d always been a leg man, and her shapely, graceful ones were out of this world.

  Finally, he met her eyes. Those brilliant blues were sparkling, and she was smiling as she approached him. She always looked happy or at least content—he didn’t think he’d ever seen her in a bad mood. To him, her friendly personality made her as beautiful as her physical appearance; women like that were rare.

  He took a deep breath and shook himself mentally. This woman sometimes put him under a spell. Apparently, even though he hadn’t seen her in almost a year and he didn’t think of her as he once had, her magic hadn’t changed.

  He cleared his throat and grinned. “Hi, Tess. Good to see you.”

  “It’s good to see you too!” She went right to him, stopping only a few steps away. Her dog wiggled in the cradle of her arms, yipping and wagging her tiny tail. “Hope you had a good Christmas?”

  “It was nice, thank you,” Logan said. “Quiet.” Just him and his mom, at her house. He’d made them dinner because she was so weak from radiation, and they’d watched It’s A Wonderful Life and White Christmas, as was their tradition. “You had a good Christmas too, I hope?”