Honeysuckle Bride. Tara Randel
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Nealy snorted. “I disagree. I can’t imagine those girls with anyone else.”
“Is this what life is going to be like? Me making mistakes and the girls paying for them?”
“Jenna, give yourself a break. You’ve only lived with them for six months.”
She ran a shaky hand over her brow. “Carrie and I talked about me becoming the girls’ guardian, but I thought that’s all it was. Talk.” She shook her head. “I didn’t think too much about the conversation, but Carrie took it to the next step to assure her children’s future.”
“And in the time you’ve had the girls you expect to be a perfect parent? You think you should know everything there is to know about children and never make a mistake? C’mon, the girls are ten years old. I can guarantee Carrie made mistakes, no matter how much she loved and cared for them.”
Jenna straightened her shoulders. She could do this. She had to do this. “Okay, I’ll admit I’m walking on shaky ground here, but you’re right. It’s getting better, but still, I need time to get used to being a parent.”
“The first step is admitting you have a problem.” Humor sparkled in Nealy’s eyes as she attempted to lighten the moment.
Jenna grinned. “Oh, I could come up with quite a list.”
“Hey, don’t put yourself down. I think you’re doing great. For a single woman busy with her career, you accepted responsibility for the girls no questions asked and embraced the idea of being a mom. Take this break you have from filming right now to grieve along with the girls. Once it’s time for the television season to start up again, things will get better.”
“As long as the tabloid press stays away.” She shivered. “If not for the exposure from my job and attracting a crazy person, we wouldn’t have left the only place the girls have ever lived.”
“No, it was that one idiot reporter. If he hadn’t been so intent on documenting your life—”
“Which is incredibly boring, by the way.”
“—nothing would have happened. You’d still be in LA, filming your cooking show and making guest appearances on talk shows.”
“Honestly, on the juicy gossip chart, I rank about minus eleven.”
Nealy laughed. “Now that is totally true.”
After years of trying to stay invisible in foster homes, never making waves or causing trouble, Jenna had spent her youth feeling like an outsider. Once she grew up, finished school and embarked on her career, she still found herself on the sidelines of personal relationships, with the exception of a handful of people she trusted. As her career took off, she traded obscurity for the limelight, never imagining that her life might be of interest to anyone but herself.
When Jenna gained custody of the girls, it had been a blip in the media radar since she was hardly in the same league as A-list celebrities. Until Rod. It had gotten to the point she couldn’t leave the house without him in her face, asking for an exclusive interview or pictures at home with her and the girls. Only the restraining order could slow him down.
“If he hadn’t gotten so obsessed with us, we would have been fine back in LA”
“Look,” Nealy said. “You’re here. You’re safe. We have your back. Get that awful reporter out of your mind. He’ll latch on to another story and forget all about you.”
He had to. Jenna had based her move to Florida on that hope.
“Just be thankful Wyatt came upon you when he did.”
At the mention of his name, Jenna remembered the terse man who’d come to her rescue, his act of bravery at odds with his sharp parting words. Her skin prickled with indignation. “I’m grateful for what he did, but didn’t appreciate the mini lecture before he took off.”
“That’s Wyatt Hamilton. I’ve known him for a long time, but after the rough few years he’s had, he’s not the most...easy guy to be around.”
“Understatement.”
“You only talked to him for a few minutes.”
“It was a long few minutes.” Jenna recalled the memory. His eyes had been so intense, so judging. “Besides, I wasn’t thrilled he was doing the rescuing while I stood on the beach feeling helpless. I should have been the one to save Bridget.”
“C’mon, Jenna. It’s not like he rushed in the water just to make you look bad.”
True, logic reminded her, but his quick actions had made her feel incompetent.
“Listen, he’s got a lot of baggage, so we all tend to cut him some slack,” Nealy said.
Had her annoyance been so obvious? Jenna sighed. “I guess no one is immune to baggage.”
“Yeah, but his is pretty horrible.”
The crash of ice cubes falling from the freezer ice maker broke the silence following Nealy’s statement.
“Are you going to tell me?” Jenna prodded.
“His son died about two years ago. He was only eight.”
Jenna’s chest tightened. “How awful.” She’d just lost Carrie and the hurt was still so fresh, but to lose a child? She’d only had custody of the girls for less than a year but had known them their entire lives. How would she deal with a loss like his? She couldn’t even imagine the pain he must live with every day.
“It was a boating accident,” Nealy continued. “About six months later, his wife filed for divorce.”
“I’ve heard that happens sometimes when parents lose a child, but a double whammy? No wonder he has issues.”
“He’s still so torn up.”
“You said you’ve known him for a long time?”
She nodded. “Yes. Wyatt grew up here, so we were all devastated by his loss. My sister told me he disappeared right after the funeral. About four months ago, a friend of ours, Max Sanders, met up with Wyatt and talked him into coming back. Now Wyatt captains a fishing charter boat, but I think he’s only going through the motions, not really living.”
“I don’t know what to say. Poor guy.” Jenna sipped her tea, her heart breaking for a man she didn’t know. “Where does he live? I think the girls and I will bake cookies as a way of saying thank-you.”
Nealy’s eyes grew troubled. “I’d rethink the idea. He’s kind of a loner.”
“Even loners who disapprove of my parenting skills need to eat.”
“Jenna’s answer to all and every problem. Food.”
“What can I say? It’s who I am.”
Jenna had discovered her love for