Storm Shells (The Wishes Series #3) (10 page)

“Good, thank you.”

“How long are you in town for?”

I opened my mouth but Charli chimed in. “Stop talking, Nic.”

And that was the end of that. Charli walked around the counter and made me a world-class coffee in record time. Nicole stood frozen, looking close to tears. I wandered around the café, trying to look occupied. And no one said a word.

Charlotte marched us out the door the second she handed me the cup.

“Well, that wasn’t awkward,” I mocked as we walked back to the car.

“I have nothing to say to her, and nor do you. Stay away from her,” she ordered.

“Yes Ma’am.”

Charli spun to face me. “I can’t forgive her, Adam.” She’d obviously been struggling with the notion. “I don’t have it in me.”

“You forgave me,” I reminded her. I’d put her through a whole lot more than thirteen grand’s worth of pain.

She looked at me, slowly shaking her head. “I didn’t forgive you. I left you.”

My straight-talking wife had a way with words. Whether she realised it or not, she’d bitten me hard.

“Moved on without me, huh?” I teased, trying to deflect the sting.

The corner of her mouth lifted as she fought against smiling. “Leaps and bounds.” She threw out her arms. “Didn’t look back once.”

I set my coffee on the roof of the car before pulling her against me. Her body went limp as I dipped her backwards. “You forgot about me?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Three short weeks and you’re nothing more than a cute bloke in a car park.”

“You’re a cold woman, Charlotte Décarie,” I declared, leaning in closer. “Let me refresh your memory.”

I pressed my lips to the side of her neck, deciding she was anything but cold. I might never have let her go if we hadn’t been interrupted by the sound of a car braking hard on the gravel.

I righted Charli and turned to see something that vaguely resembled the Audi I used to own. It was trashed – completely and utterly wrecked. Even the back bumper was held on with wire.

“You weren’t kidding,” I mumbled. “They’ve killed my car.”

Charlotte muffled her laughter by burying her face in my sleeve.

“Adam!” screeched Jasmine, messily exiting the driver’s side. “Fancy seeing you here!”

I reached for Charli’s hand. “Yeah,” I replied dully. “Fancy.” I tried hard not to look her up and down but it was impossible not to. Jasmine hadn’t changed much. She still looked like a two-dollar hooker.

“We all thought you’d broken up.” She alternated her finger between the two of us. “That’s the word around town anyway.”

“Two guesses where the word came from,” Charli muttered. I squeezed her fingers, silently promising her a quick getaway.

“Well, it’s nice to see you again, Jasmine,” I said politely, edging away from her.

“Wait, wait!” She lurched forward, thrusting her left hand in front of my face. “Did you hear my news? I’m engaged.”

I ducked out of the way of her hand and opened the passenger door of the car. “Great. Congratulations.”

“Aw, thanks, Adam. I knew you’d be thrilled for me.”

“Thrilled,” I listlessly confirmed.

Charli grabbed my coffee off the roof and got in the car. Jasmine followed me to the driver’s side, cornering me like a lipstick-wearing rottweiler.

“His name’s Wade. He’s a personal trainer. You should meet him.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Great. We’ll have dinner tonight. Just the four of us. My parents have opened up a restaurant at the vineyard. Say, eight o’clock?”

I hadn’t seen it coming, nor could I think quickly enough to get out of it. My head involuntarily nodded.

“Fab,” she crowed, slapping my arm. “We’ll see you then.”

At the first chance of escape, I got in the car and slunk down in the seat. “Charlotte, what’s the current status of your relationship with Jasmine Tate?”

She giggled. “Put it this way: if she was on fire, and I had water, I’d drink it.”

“That’s what I thought,” I mumbled. “I might have just given you grounds for divorce.”

“What did you do?”

I couldn’t look at her. “I just accepted a dinner invitation for tonight. Apparently they’ve opened up a restaurant at the vineyard.”

“Why would you do that?” She sounded utterly appalled.

I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“Latin, French and English.” She ticked the words off on her fingers. “You’re fluent in all of them. You couldn’t think of anything?”

I grabbed my phone from the console. “Give me her number. I’ll call and cancel.”

She snatched it out of my hand. “Oh no you don’t, Boy Wonder. You’re going to suffer through it. That’s your punishment for being a wuss.”

I grinned at her. “You’re so lovely when you’re mad. I like it.”

She grinned back. “Keep making dates with the enemy and you’ll see a lot more of it.”

* * *

Knowing we only had two weeks together should’ve been accompanied by the awful feeling of being on borrowed time. But I wasn’t feeling it. We seemed to have fallen back into place as if we’d never been apart. I wasn’t going to waste time trying to figure it out. I just wanted to enjoy being with her.

I was also enjoying the quiet pace of life in a country town.

It wasn’t a total escape. My mother had been blowing up my phone since I’d left New York. I’d expected to be in trouble for bailing on Christmas with the family; that’s why I’d left Ryan to break the news.

I stood on the veranda, checking my voicemails while I watched Charli in the yard. I was listening to a demon woman giving me marriage advice while watching an angel woman wander around the garden. Choosing between the two wasn’t difficult. I deleted the demon mid-message – just as she got the part about marriage being forever. I focused on the angel instead, who was snipping at flowers with a pair of scissors.

Charli suddenly stopped dead, standing completely still with her arms by her sides.

“Charli?” I called. “Are you okay?”

She turned and flashed me her loveliest smile.

“Yeah. There’s a bee.”

“Are you trying to get stung or not get stung?” I couldn’t be sure. If I remembered correctly, it was number eighty-something on her never-done list.

Ignoring the threat of the bee, she walked over to me. I reached for her hand and helped her onto the veranda.

“I don’t want to get stung today,” she replied. “I’m busy this afternoon.”

“Doing what?”

“I thought I might go and see Gabrielle. I want to take her some lavender.” She waved the bunch at me. “You probably want to catch up with her too, right? We can pick up your car while we’re there.”

“Okay.” I frowned. “Odd gift, though.”

She shrugged. “Not really. It’s baby bait.”

“There’s a story here, isn’t there?” It was one of my dumber questions. I already knew the answer.

“Not unless you want to hear it.”

She knew very well that I wanted to hear it. The question was whether Gabrielle was going to want to hear it. I’d never known Gabi to be particularly interested in La La Land. On the other hand, if she was as desperate in her quest to have a baby as Charli seemed to think she was, she might be prepared to entertain anything.

December 26

Charli

Dealing with Gabrielle was hard work. Alex had made me promise not to rattle her cage, but the truth was it didn’t take much to wind her up these days. Every time I saw her, she looked like she was about to burst into tears.

Adam followed me as I walked up the path to the house, carrying my little bunch of lavender with both hands like a nervous bridesmaid. Gabrielle was on the veranda in front of an easel, stabbing at it with a brush. She usually favoured pretty pastel landscapes. From where I stood, it looked as if she was trying to murder the canvas.

“Hello Gabi,” said Adam, stepping forward to kiss her cheek.

“Oh, Adam,” she beamed. “I was so excited when Alex told me you were here. I’m sorry I missed you this morning.”

“It was early.”

“I hope Alex went easy on you.” The Parisienne wasn’t renowned for sly smiles. She surprised me by pulling one off perfectly.

“I survived.” He pointed at the canvas. “What are you working on?”

I couldn’t see the painting from where I stood, but Adam’s frown spoke volumes. “What’s it supposed to be?” he asked.

“Nothing. Just colour. Do you like it?”

“Sure,” he replied, not very sincerely.

The Parisienne dropped the brush into a jar of turpentine. I got the impression she didn’t particularly like it either.

Adam sat down on a wicker chair near the door. I glanced at him in time to see him motion with his head for me to give up the lavender.

I thrust it at Gabrielle as she reached for the screen door handle.

“For me?” she asked.

I felt like a primary school kid giving the teacher flowers. “Yeah, but there’s a reason.”

She eyed me suspiciously. “Did you do something?”

That is precisely why I hate being gifted flowers. Every bunch I ever got was by way of apology, usually from Fiona and sometimes from Ryan. They’re nothing more than a big fat sorry wrapped in a bow.

I shook my head. “No. Nothing. I just...” I straightened up and with a nod of encouragement from Adam, found my voice.

“Aed fairies, they’re Estonian,” I told her. “Unborn babies supposedly take the form of Aed fairies. They hang out in the garden because they love to play.”

She blinked at me a few hundred times, but didn’t speak. I took it as an invitation to continue.

“The problem is, when it’s time to come into the house and take the form of an actual human child, they get side-tracked because they love the garden so much. That’s where the lavender comes in.” I pointed at the bunch in her hand. “Sewing sprigs of lavender into the hem of the curtains helps them find their way inside. The wind blows the scent into the home. They follow the fragrance of the garden.”

Gabrielle looked down at the lavender in her hands. I couldn’t be sure what was going to happen next. As far as she knew, I didn’t know a thing about her fertility problems. Not only had I called her out on it, I’d sold Alex out too. She now knew he’d told me.

“And you believe this will help?” she asked.

I shrugged. “The way I see it, if your baby is an Aed fairy right now, he probably just needs a bit of direction. This is Alex’s kid we’re talking about. I’m Alex’s kid too. We like to play outdoors.”

Her next move astounded me. She threw her arms around me and drew me into a tight hug. “
Tu es bien la fille de ton père
,” she whispered.

I looked quizzically at Adam over her shoulder. He winked at me and smiled.

Gabrielle released me and headed into the house, mumbling something about making a pot of tea. I walked to Adam and he reached for my hand, pulling me into his lap.

“I think she appreciated that.”

“What did she say?” I asked curiously.

“She said you’re your father’s daughter.”

Her strange sentence stuck with me. Just as we were leaving, I snuck down to their bedroom. I don’t know what made me check but I walked over to the window, immediately noticing two sprigs of lavender pinned to the lightweight curtain. Alex had beaten me to it. He’d already told her about Aed fairies. I
am
my father’s daughter, and if things worked out how they were supposed to, I’d soon be sharing him.

* * *

There was a time when going to dinner with the sparkly couple would’ve had me cowering in the corner. Those days were over. After what I’d endured in the past year, it would be a walk in the park.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t stir the pot a little. Jasmine Tate was Pipers Cove’s self-proclaimed supreme fashionista. I dug through the packing boxes in the spare room, found a gorgeous dress that Ivy had made for me and matched it with a pair of heels that were worth more than the Audi – the Audi in its current state at least.

“What do you think?” I asked, doing a twirl as I walked into the lounge.

Adam stared, wide-eyed. “I think we should stay in for the night.”

“I’ve been playing in the dress-up box.” I fanned out the bottom of my dress. “I’m going to give Miss Tate a run for her money.”

He flashed me a half-dimpled smile. “I think you’d do that regardless of how you were dressed, Charli.”

I walked over and straightened his already-straight collar. “You might struggle, though,” I teased. “I don’t want you to be jealous of Wade when you meet him. No tears before dessert, okay?”

His sexy smile matched my sexy black dress perfectly.

“I’ll try not to be too intimidated,” he promised.

“Good man.” I patted his chest. “Let’s go.”

* * *

The restaurant at the Tate vineyard exceeded my expectations. The converted barrel room had undergone some changes since the twins’ infamous twenty-first birthday party. It was now a quaint restaurant. It wouldn’t have given Billet-doux a run for its money but it was nice – more country chic than Manhattan chic. And thanks to the peak tourist season, it was almost a full house.