Chapter Twenty
S ophie asked Umi to open Reid’s office so Emma could wait there. Reid kept it stocked with snacks and diapers along with Storm’s saucer and playpen. Also, it allowed Emma to see the wharf so she could watch for the men to return.
Sophie made Emma some tea, texted Logan that they should come home ASAP, then walked up to the house. She didn’t know what she would say or do, but she didn’t think leaving a stranger alone there was a good idea.
What she did know, deep down, was that it would be the woman from the patio of the pub. And, even though she was expecting to find her there, it still took her aback to see her asleep on one of the loungers on the deck.
Sophie didn’t like to leap straight into wondering if someone had a drug problem, and tried not to judge them if they did, but Tiffany’s sister had had some kind of trouble with the law. That’s why lawyers hadn’t been able to reach her to tell her that her sister had died.
Her sister had died. It had happened only a few short months ago. Sophie swallowed the burn of her own very fresh grief and reminded herself to tread carefully.
She knocked on the glass door, then slid it open. “Hi, again.”
Cloe sat up, startled and disoriented.
“Um.” She frowned with confusion, looking back into the house before trying to make sense of Sophie not being Em.
“I’m Sophie, Emma’s friend. You’re Cloe? Tiffany’s sister?” She moved close enough to offer her hand.
“Oh, um, hi. Yes, I am.” She rose and shook Sophie’s hand. “Tiff and I had different dads.” She said it in a rueful, philosophical way that suggested it was something she had had to say often so she just pushed it right out there. “That’s why she was so much taller than me. Older. Blonder.” She waved at her hair. “I cut all my blonde off, actually.” She seemed really nervous.
Sophie could have told her that blended roots were kind of a theme in this family, but only said, “I can see your resemblance to her.”
Tiffany had had the same gray-blue eyes and the slight overbite that made her smile very cute and engaging.
Cloe was still trying to catch her bearings after waking up so abruptly, hugging herself and blinking dazed eyes, brow creased with anxiety.
Now that Sophie got a better look at her, she saw Cloe’s blue jeans and striped T-shirt were a little too big on her and well worn. So was her small backpack. She looked tired. Not from one lost night of sleep, but months of them. Weary tired. Sad. And vulnerable.
Since the men had arrived to look after Storm, Tiffany’s sister had loomed as a huge threat, distressing Emma and the Fraser men with what could happen if she decided she wanted custody of her niece.
It was still a mystery what she might expect or why she had shown up here unannounced like this, but Sophie instinctively felt for her. She seemed at a loss and Sophie kind of wanted to hug her.
“Do you live here?” Cloe asked with sudden shock. Her expression grew appalled as she seemed to realize Sophie was the woman she’d seen in coveralls earlier. “The server at the pub told me this was where Reid Fraser lives. Was she messing with me to mess with you?”
“No.” Sophie had to chuckle at that. “I mean, she would . We behave worse than our children, as you witnessed. I do, anyway.” She hitched her shoulder in self-deprecation.
“Been there,” Cloe said wryly and they shared a smirk.
“No, this is the Fraser house,” Sophie assured her. “They should be back soon. They won’t mind that we’re here, waiting for them.”
She checked her phone and saw Logan had texted, Leaving now.
“Do you want water? Coffee?” Sophie waved toward the kitchen.
“I have a glass of water.” Cloe picked it up from the table next to her lounger. “The nanny gave it to me then… I don’t know where she went.” She craned her neck to peer with puzzlement toward the glass doors. She grimaced as she caught her reflection and smoothed her shirt. A sigh of defeat followed. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. The ferry dropped me off really late last night. I knew I had to get into town to catch the water taxi, but I didn’t realize how far I’d have to walk.”
“You walked?” It was three kilometers.
“I waited until it started to get light. I thought I’d see traffic by then, but nope. It was just me and whatever those noises were in the bushes. I’m a city girl.” She pulled her bottom lip wide in a grimace. “I was thinking the whole time, So this is how I die. ”
“At least it wasn’t raining,” Sophie said with amused sympathy, thinking, Help. I like her.
“It was actually kind of peaceful, once I got to the wharf.” She looked out at the water. “Listening to the waves and watching the sun hit the other side of the bay.”
Passage , but Sophie didn’t correct her.
“I should have called first, instead of showing up like this.” Her brows crinkled with consternation. She picked at a hangnail. “I don’t actually have a phone. It’s a whole thing. My life has been really complicated since before Tiff passed. Now that I’m out of that vortex, I wanted to get away and”—she sent a wistful look toward the upper level of the house, then down toward the marina and village—“I wanted to see where she was.”
Storm? Or Tiffany?
“I’m really sorry about Tiffany.” Sophie waved at the lounger where Cloe had been sleeping, inviting her to retake her seat while she lowered onto the one beside it, facing her. “You probably have questions. Is that why you’re here? To find out more about what happened? I’ll tell you anything I can.”
“I know what was on the news, that it was a plane crash.” Cloe sat and looked into her half-empty glass. It wobbled as her hand began to shake. “Wilf was the pilot. He was flying them to Vegas to get married. Tiff asked me to meet them there and come back with them, but I couldn’t. Was he nice, though?” Her worried gaze came up. “I know he was a lot older than her. I was surprised when she told me she was pregnant, but she was really happy about it.”
“She was,” Sophie agreed, even though it had been in the way of certain women who went into a blissful state of denial when they got pregnant. This baby won’t change my life. I can do it all. Then the baby arrived and everything changed and it nearly broke them in half, they were so unprepared.
But Sophie was trying to be kind so she didn’t get into how Tiffany had seemed at the end of her rope from the jump. Looking back, maybe her underlying tension had had something to do with her sister’s legal troubles? Sophie didn’t think it was appropriate to ask what kind of “vortex” Cloe had been spinning in all this time.
“I knew Wilf my whole life,” Sophie volunteered, smiling with genuine affection. “My granddad worked for him and so did my mom. He gave me my first job, then hired me again four years ago when I came back here. He was colorful.” Understatement. “Not the most sentimental person. He definitely fancied himself both a man’s man and a ladies’ man, but he was funny. Generous. Definitely too old for Tiffany, but he really cared about her.”
For all the talk among the locals that Tiffany had been his nurse and Wilf her purse, they had seemed to have more between them than that.
“Wilf had always had a vision for this place that he never quite got off the ground. Before Tiffany came along, it was falling into disrepair. She saw its potential, though. She was willing to do the work to make it happen. That put a fresh sparkle in his eye. I think, in some ways, he saw their marriage as a do-over.” Sophie hadn’t completely put that together until she said it, but it rang true. “He had a couple of failed marriages behind him. His sons were grown and gone. He had regrets about his relationships with them.” Estranged. Strained. “When Storm came along, he wanted to get it right. He was definitely happier with Tiffany than he’d been in a long time.”
“And Tiff? She was about to marry him so she must have been in love? Did she really want to stay here with him forever?” She sent another uncertain look toward the marina and its desolate location.
“Honestly? I wish I’d made more of an effort to get to know her.” It was true. Sophie regretted now that she’d remained so aloof, but she’d only been back a couple of years when Tiffany had arrived and started changing things. Her defenses had been pretty high.
“Tiffany was the boss’s wife and was pushing to make all these changes,” Sophie noted with a quirk of her mouth. “I don’t know why we all felt so threatened by that. Small town, small minds, I guess.” Also, Tiffany had skimmed all the working capital from the marina, making Sophie’s job infinitely harder, but Tiffany hadn’t been trying to line her own pockets with it.
“She seemed to want to make an impact. I could see that she was excited to do something big and meaningful. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“That sounds like her.” Cloe was smiling, but her eyes were wet, her voice husky with emotion. “She always had goals. She always wanted to be taken seriously and prove herself. I miss her so much.” She wiped under her eye. “I should have come when she first told me she was pregnant. She wanted me to, to help when the baby came.” Anguish flashed across her expression. “Is she here? Storm?” She looked longingly toward the upper floors again.
“Emma took her to Reid’s office.” Sophie pointed vaguely toward the village. “They’re married now. Did you know that?” she asked tentatively. “They want to adopt Storm.”
“Oh. No, I didn’t know.” Cloe’s voice went hollow. She seemed rocked by that news, gaze turning inward. “That’s why I’m here. I mean, not to adopt her. To see her. To make sure she’s okay.”
“She is. Emma really loves her. So did Tiffany. She absolutely loved Storm to bits. It was just a lot for her to help Wilf and keep house and have a new baby. This place is very isolating. That was hard on her. That’s why she hired Emma. Then, when the plane crashed, Emma spent so much time with Storm, she bonded with her.”
She’s her mother. Sophie wanted to hammer that home, but made herself keep the kid gloves on.
“If only”—Cloe fisted her hands against her brow, elbows on her knees—“I wanted to come. I just couldn’t .”
It almost sounded as though Cloe wished she had been here so her niece would have come to her after the crash, instead of Emma. Sophie felt a tug of empathy for her, but her loyalty was to Emma and Reid all the way.
“Here come the men,” Sophie noted with relief.
Down at the marina, the Fraser brothers were tying off the bowrider and striding purposefully up the wharf.
*
Logan moved with grim purpose alongside Reid and Trystan, crossing the village grounds and climbing their drive.
Fear nipped at Logan’s heels. Fear that he was losing everything that meant anything to him. He could stand to sell Raven’s Cove, even though it had come to feel more like home in the last months than it had during any other time in in his life.
He was losing Sophie, too. He had no right to hold her back so he had to let her go.
But Storm? If Tiffany’s sister was thinking she could take her, if she somehow managed to, what would he have? His brothers both had lives to go back to. Even his mother had built a new life without him.
He would wind up alone in some far-off place, trying to convince himself he was happy when he knew damned well he was faking it. As they pushed into the house, Sophie opened the door to the deck off the kitchen.
“We’re out here,” she said cheerfully.
Cheerfully? Didn’t she realize his entire fucking world was ending?
They filed out to see a woman in jeans and a white-and-yellow striped T-shirt rise from a lounger and wipe her palms nervously on her hips. She offered a tentative smile.
“Hi. I’m Cloe, Tiffany’s sister.” She sounded sheepish as she offered her hand.
“Logan.” He was closest so he shook first.
She didn’t look much like the blonde, very white bombshell that Tiffany had been. She was pretty, but shorter. The shape of her eyes were Storm’s all the way, but there wasn’t much else that resembled his little sister. Logan wasn’t about to ask her to prove her identity, though. Not when he’d been asked in the past if Trystan was his “real” brother.
He was. And, lately, Logan had started to feel like he had brothers.
The tension in his chest cranked up another notch.
“Reid.” He stepped forward and gave her hand one firm pump.
“Trystan.”
“Hi.” Cloe’s intimidated expression became more starstruck. Color blossomed in her cheeks. “I, um, recognized you as I was getting off the water taxi this morning. I didn’t mean to stare. I should have said something, but… I was nervous. This is a lot.” She withdrew her hand and swallowed, flicking her gaze between all three of them.
Logan had noticed Trystan’s distraction this morning, but any sign of male interest was gone from Trystan’s expression now. Good. They needed to find out what the hell this woman wanted, then get her on her way. “Should I call Em?” Sophie asked in a helpful tone.
“No,” they said together.
Logan glared at her. Did she not understand the stakes. Em had been scared . He was.
Sophie rocked back on her heels, seeming shocked by their collective hostility.
“What are you doing here?” Reid asked Cloe gruffly.
“I’d like to see Storm if that’s okay.” Her blue-gray gaze shifted from man to man to man. She tried to stand tall and lift her chin, but she was too petite to pull off looking tough.
“Why?” Reid folded his arms.
Logan couldn’t help mirroring that and so did Trys.
“Because she’s her aunt ,” Sophie said with admonishment in her tone. “Can you guys all take one big, collective breath? You’re coming on really strong.”
“Sophie,” Logan warned in a lethal voice. “Do you remember telling me never to get between you and Biyen? This is like that.” He would do anything to keep his sister. She must understand that.
“I’m not telling you what to do with Storm. I’m telling you to bleed off some of that testosterone you’re all gassed up on. You’re being scary when Cloe is a perfectly normal person who does not have a gun to your head. Everything is fine.”
“No, it’s not!” Logan said and, damn. That had come out really fucking loud.
He knotted his fists and looked to the water, instantly embarrassed. He tried to get a grip on himself, but it wasn’t easy.
“Logan,” Sophie said gently as she came to stand in front of him.
He could feel everyone staring at him. Her hand settled lightly on his chest where his heart was slamming with fear. Real fear.
“It’s going to be okay, Logan.”
“No, it’s not,” he insisted, reaching for her upper arms. Her firm biceps were so her . Everything about her was so fucking precious and so fucking not his. His eyes were hot, his throat aching all the way down into his chest. “Art is gone, you and Biyen are leaving, we’re selling this place, and now Storm ? These two will fuck off.” The way they always had. “There won’t be anyone left.”
He felt like such a tool, standing here already lonely, but he was. His nose was stinging and his throat was aching and he couldn’t stand it.
And there was Sophie looking up at him with her fall-into-me eyes.
Into the resounding silence, he heard the front door open.
“Reid?” Emma called from inside the house. “I saw you all come back.”
“I’d really like to see her,” Cloe pleaded in a soft tone. “She’s all the family I have left.”
Logan’s heart lurched. He knew exactly how that felt.
He couldn’t deny her. When Reid glanced at him and Trys, Logan nodded jerkily to allow it.
*
“We’re out here, Em,” Reid called over his shoulder.
Sophie could feel the tension in Logan, as though he was braced for a body blow. She hadn’t appreciated how threatened these men were by Cloe. How threatened Logan was by her own talk of leaving.
She pressed herself to his side and looped her arms around his waist, trying to reassure him with her closeness. His arm curled firmly around her, but she thought she detected a tremor in him. He watched closely as Emma came warily out the door onto the deck, Storm in her arms.
Reid lifted his arm in invitation, and Emma tucked herself against his side.
Cloe’s gaze was fixed on Storm. Her voice shook as she said to Emma, “I should have called first, so you weren’t blindsided when I showed up on the doorstep. Sophie told me you two are married and want to adopt her?”
“Yes,” Reid confirmed with a nod.
“I’m not here to get in the way of that,” Cloe’s brow tilted in anguish. “I’m not actually in a position to take her. I came to make sure she was in good hands, that’s all. It looks like she is.” She was eating up Storm’s fine hair and big blue eyes and teething-rashed cheeks with a poignant smile.
“I shouldn’t have run out like that. I panicked.” Emma’s face was still splotchy with tears, but she offered an uncertain smile to Cloe.
“It’s okay. I…” Cloe trailed off and tilted her head down, trying to catch Storm’s eye. “Hi, baby.”
Storm smiled, watching this new face curiously.
“Will you go see your Auntie Cloe?” Emma asked Storm, starting to offer the baby to her.
Cloe held out her hands in invitation and Storm wavered. One little hand clutched onto Emma’s shirt before she changed her mind and decided she would meet this new person.
“Oh, hello.” Happy tears came into Cloe’s eyes as she drew Storm into her chest and lowered onto the lounger, holding her in her lap. “It’s very nice to meet you.” She took one of Storm’s hands and tucked her thumb into Storm’s curled fist.
Sophie’s heart was going to break wide open. She looked up at Logan and saw his nostrils were flared with his effort to hold on to his emotions.
“Let’s get everyone some drinks,” she murmured, nudging him.
He nodded jerkily and guided her ahead of him through the door. When she would have paused in the kitchen, he snagged her hand and drew her all the way down the stairs into the cool basement.
“I don’t think anyone wants a beer this ear—”
He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and his arms came around her. Hard. So hard her breath was squeezed out of her. Her nose was mashed against his chest.
She turned her head so she could hear his heart thumping and feel it against her cheek. She wrapped her arms around his waist, holding on to him just as tightly.
“It’s okay, Logan. She’s not going anywhere.” Had he not heard Cloe say she wasn’t in a position to take her?
“It’s not her I’m worried about. I mean, I am, but—Christ, Sophie. Why is everything so hard?”
She brought one hand up to cup his jaw. “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out and get through it.”
“How? How am I supposed to do it without you?” He closed his eyes in remorse. “I can’t ask you to stay. You know that. But I already miss you. It’s eating me up.” His anguished profile looked out the window to the lawn.
And she thought, Why? Why would she put him and herself through a separation when being together was what they both wanted?
Was she trying to prove she could live without him? She could. She had already done it. And, as painful as his coming back into her life had been, it had also been the most alive she had felt since he’d left it eight years ago.
As for Biyen, she trusted Logan to be a good surrogate father to him. He was already knocking it out of the park with his kid sister. He might not have much faith in himself in that role, but she did.
“You don’t have to ask,” she said gently. “I make up my own mind, and I’ve decided that I love you. I’ve always loved you.” Her heart was swelling too big for her chest, constricting her throat so her voice grew thin and strained. “I’m going to stay with you. We will. When things change, we’ll make a decision together to do something else.”
“Sophie—” He was holding her arm too hard. Her muscles were twitching in protest, but she understood he was hanging on tight because he was scared. Terrified. “What if love isn’t enough? It wasn’t enough for Mom. It sure as hell didn’t fix Dad.”
“You’re right,” she said with a little laugh. “Love isn’t a magic potion that fixes everything. If only! All it does is cushion you against the hard reality of life. Did Glenda loving the shit out of you and your brothers fix you guys? Heck, no. You’re all a walking disaster, but imagine how you would have turned out if you hadn’t had her.”
“And you.” He finally released her arm and brought his hands up to cradle her face. “Your love shaped me. I know that because when I lost it, nothing felt right. And when I had you back, really back in my life and my heart, the world made sense again. I will do anything for you, Sophie. Anything. I thought if I let you go, it would give me time to get my shit together. To become the man who deserves your love, but… I don’t think I care who or what I am if you’re not here for me to want to be better.”
“Why don’t you think you’re enough as you are?” She cocked her head, genuinely baffled by this. “Look at all you’ve accomplished, Logan. You’re ready to go to war for a baby you didn’t know a few months ago. You were right there for me, every minute, when Gramps died.”
“I should have been with you when you lost your mom. I should have been better sooner.”
“Me, too,” she assured him. “Do you want me to start wondering if I’m good enough for you ?”
“No.” He scowled and folded his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer. His lips touched her brow. “You’re perfect.”
“See, that’s how I know you really love me.” She smiled shakily into his collar. “You have become oblivious to the fact I’m actually very catty with messy hair and I smell like diesel most of the time.”
“I love the smell of diesel on you.” He drew back a little, expression shifting between tender and grave. “Do you really think we have a shot at forever, Soph? Because that’s what I want. You. Forever.”
“Oh God, you idiot.” Tears rose in her eyes. “It’s what I’ve always wanted.”
“Still?” he asked very, very softly while his thumbs grazed her cheeks and his mouth lowered to hover against her lips.
“Always,” she repeated.
His mouth settled across hers and something cleaved open in her chest. Not breaking. Blossoming. Opening and offering herself to him even as she felt something huge emanating from him. His chest swelled against hers. His breath hissed as though he was enduring something equally cataclysmic.
He slid his hands low in her back, arching her into him as he feasted on her mouth, but he gave, too. It was back and forth, greed and generosity, lust and love. Rough hunger that turned fond and soft as he stole a few last kisses before lifting his head.
“We have more to talk about, but I should…” He cocked his head toward the stairs.
“Yeah, I should get back to work before my boss docks my pay.”
“Your boss is too scared of losing you to do any such thing. You’ve kind of got him over a barrel, actually.”
“Oh? Good time to ask for a raise, then.”
“You realize you take home more than I do, don’t you?”
Because of all the overtime, she presumed. “That’s nice to know, but I still want a raise.”
He rolled his eyes. “We’ll talk about that later, too.”