Her Christmas Wish (The Cottages on Ocean Breeze #1)

Chapter Twenty-Six

S age cried some Saturday night. More than she’d cried in years. For herself, a little. For Gray, and for the child who maybe wouldn’t see the great man their father was, a whole lot more.

With tears trickling slowly, steadily down her face, she stayed out on the porch, waiting for him to come back. He’d walked the opposite direction of Scott’s house when he’d taken his leave. Knew he’d have to pass by again to go home to bed.

She wouldn’t let herself make judgments or worry about the mammoth changes coming in her own home life. She just sat with her newfound knowledge.

And waited.

Sometime after midnight, when she’d cried all the tears she had and still hadn’t seen Gray head back down the beach, she’d figured out that he’d taken the road home.

He hadn’t been able to see her.

She got that, too.

He’d been right when he’d said that he wasn’t great at expressing himself when it came to emotional issues. But she was beginning to read between his lines a little better than she had in the past.

With the help of a little maturity, and a lot more insight where he was concerned.

The man had spent his entire life solving not only his own problems, but those of his caregivers as well, largely by himself. He’d taken on the burden fully alone.

Made most if not all his important choices on his own.

She couldn’t expect him to suddenly change, just because he’d fallen in love with her.

He hadn’t said so—that he loved her still. But she knew him well enough to understand that he’d never have come to her porch that night if he wasn’t in love with her.

That move, more than any other, ever, spoke to her heart.

And it was that thought that she took to bed with her.

And fell asleep on.

Waking to find Leigh, in her so-sweet pink unicorn pajamas, crawling into bed with her the next morning. “I waked up before you,” the little girl pronounced as she pushed herself under the covers and snuggled up, with her head on Sage’s chest.

Filling her up in a way Gray had never known.

The thought of him, waking alone, broke her heart as she said, “Yes, and you did the right thing, coming in to get me.” And gave her daughter a grateful hug, kissing the top of Leigh’s head.

Just as her mother had kissed hers. Countless mornings.

She’d spent her childhood with love all around her, holding her up. Not just her mother, but with a twin. She hadn’t even been alone in the womb.

Gray...he’d been loved, but alone...forever.

“What do you want for breakfast?” she asked Leigh, knowing that her day had to go on. Because life did.

That was how it worked.

And when Leigh sat up, scrunching up her forehead, her finger on her chin, she smiled, a real smile, and waited for the answer.

“Pancakes, I think, and then, maybe, chocolate.”

“Uh?” Sage sat up. “Do we have chocolate for breakfast?”

“No, but we don’t ever sleep in our clothes, either, and you’re wearing your yesterday’s shirt!”

Sage couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled out of her. “Got me,” she said. “But we still aren’t having chocolate for breakfast.”

Just as she wasn’t going to let her own heartbreak shower down on the precious little girl she’d been blessed with.

Or the little one inside her.

She’d made choices, commitments, and had others relying on her—for the rest of her life.

Gray had made no such commitments. And even if he could somehow find a way to be okay as a part-time dad to his own child, he’d need to be that for two, which was asking the impossible of him. Yet, no way would either of them allow Leigh to feel that she wasn’t as important to Mr. Buzzing Bee as her little brother or sister would be. Gray would walk away long before he’d do that to her.

He’d already walked away.

She knew. Understood.

But she also knew, as she took Leigh through their morning routine, that she wasn’t going to be free from the aches, the longing, the needs, the tears. Probably ever.

She’d provide a happy home for her children. Would undoubtedly know many happy times and even some perfect moments.

But she wasn’t going to do what she’d done in the past—she wouldn’t cut Gray out of her heart’s awareness and reinvent herself. Focusing only on herself and the life she wanted. She would carry him with her. Stay present in her longing for him. Be willing to hurt. To be able to welcome him into their lives in whatever capacity he could be there. Even if that meant a Christmas card every ten years.

Because she loved him that deeply.

And because he deserved to be so loved.

The problem with cotton was that it wrinkled. Gray had the inane thought as he traipsed from his almost new home down closer to the water early Sunday morning. He’d awoken, sometime during the night, and had found himself sitting propped up against the house again.

Remembered the beer he’d consumed too quickly. Purposely allowed grogginess to remain as a buffer between him and his brain, had lain down proper in the sand, uncaring that even in his long-sleeved shirt, it was cold, and went back to sleep. He’d needed unconsciousness, rest, more than comfort.

But he’d awoken just after sunrise, fully conscious. Wholly aware.

And with solid purpose.

Waiting long enough for people to start to rise, one person in particular, he checked his email.

Clicked on the one from his Realtor. It had an attachment.

His accepted offer. The cottage was his.

And the timing was absolutely no mistake.

He felt no joy.

But satisfaction brewed a little deeper inside him.

One step in the plan done.

The plan—it was nothing he’d drawn up that morning. Or researched. He’d awoken with it fully formed.

Hands in his pockets, he made it to Sage’s door with his flip-flops filled with sand, and resolution in his soul. Uncaring that his hair had spent the night splayed on the beach. He hadn’t shaved or brushed his teeth.

He wasn’t there for kissing. Or courting.

Lifting his hand to knock, he stopped when he saw Sage step to the door, staring at him, her hand on the latch.

Calling something to someone behind her, he couldn’t make out what, she slid open the door, stepped outside and slid the glass closed.

“What are you doing here?” Her gaze swept him from head to toe. “Are you okay?”

He had no answer for the second question, but the first one fit his purpose just fine. He stared her straight in the eye. “I left here last night because I’d had a few beers and was in no state to discuss...the topic of discussion. I am present at the moment because I have now slept, am fully sober and expect it to be fully understood that I am not walking away from you. I made a promise not to do that again and I will keep that promise.”

Probably not the best syntax. Or delivery. He’d gotten it out there. The rest would have to do.

Eyes wide, Sage didn’t just stare at him. She studied him. He could see her pupils moving, taking in his face, down to his chest, and back up again. “Where did you sleep?”

“On the beach. At the cottage at the end of the road.” His cottage. “I got an email. My offer was accepted.”

She didn’t burst into smiles. Or show any pleasure at the revelation. She was frowning. Shaking her head. “You don’t have to do this, Gray. Seriously. I won’t think you’re walking away because I know that I have a special place in your heart, and you can’t leave that behind. You be you, and I’ll be me, and we’ll always be us.”

Yes. That. Exactly. He liked it. “You’re better at the words,” he acknowledged with a nod.

“I’ll be fine here,” she continued. “I have Scott, and Ocean Breeze, a great job and...exactly what I asked for—children to raise.”

Her chin trembled, giving her away. She had it all. Every bit of it. Except, we’ll always be us .

Trouble was, the two intelligent, professionally successful people they were, who’d created the lives they’d always wanted, had no idea how to be an us .

He knew one thing, though. “I’m going through with the sale. I want the cottage. I made a cash offer. It’s a lot, but not compared to what I made on the sale of my house.” She was privy to his current finances down to the dime.

Her frown was back. “Don’t do it for me.”

“I’m doing it for me,” he told her. Solid on that one. “And for us.”

She was pregnant.

He wasn’t yet allowing his mind to wander in that direction. Had been jumping away from it every time it hit. But he was aware.

Sage was pregnant and the child was his.

“We need to talk,” he said. As though they’d been communicating in some other fashion for the past few minutes.

She nodded. “Not with Leigh...” She broke off. “As soon as her show is over, she’ll be out here...”

Right. Made sense. Leigh.

A big sister.

The whoosh that hit him left him a bit lightheaded for a second.

Siblings.

Shoving the thought away, he was hit with another. “Have you told anyone else?”

“Of course not.”

“Can you hold off, with Scott in particular, until we have a chance to talk?”

“We, as in you and Scott talk? Or you and me talk?”

He looked at her. “Really?”

With a nod, and a hint of an eye roll, she said, “Yes, I’ll hold off. I was planning to shop today. Usually take Leigh with me, but with as busy a day as she had yesterday, I could ask Scott or Iris to watch her. We could meet somewhere...”

The where...had to be someplace unromantic. With reminders all around of their changed status. No longer lovers. Or friends. But parents.

He shook his head. Couldn’t grasp it. Wondered at a fate that would push them into such a situation. Even as he knew that he and Sage had made a choice a couple of weeks ago, a split-second decision to act rather than think...

“Let’s meet at my cottage,” he told her. “Text me with a time. I’ll get showered and contact the Realtor for a key. You can give me pointers on renovation ideas. Tell your brother whatever you like,” he added and turned to head down the steps.

He’d had no business asking for her silence. She might need Scott’s shoulder to lean on as she and Gray traversed turbulent, murky waters.

Both feet on the sand, he stopped, turned slowly back. Sage stood there, watching him, and he couldn’t figure out her expression at all.

She wasn’t mad. Or crying. She was...there. With him.

“I’m not walking away, Sage.” It was the only guarantee he could give her.

Her smile was odd, too. Trembly. But it was there.

With a nod, he strode up the beach.

He had a purpose.