Jake's Bride (Search For Love) Read online

  "I can't. You're representing Brad. That's enough reason for us not to get...friendly."

  He didn't agree. But he never forced a woman to do something she didn't want, and he didn't have time to play games. He wasn't good at them anyway. Strategy, yes. Male-female manipulations, no.

  Reaching for one of her business cards, Darcy jotted a number and address on the back and pushed it toward him. "That's the number for the rental agency. Ask for Jed. Tell him I sent you."

  She'd removed herself from him. Clearly, she thought he was the enemy. A lick of frustration made him goad her. "Public relations?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Do you handle public relations for the car rental agency? Drum up business? Or is Jed more than a business acquaintance?"

  That brought her clear aquamarine eyes up to his. "Jed owns a car dealership." At his skeptical expression, she said, "We do favors for one another when we can."

  "Really."

  "Good business contacts are indispensable." The fire in her eyes told him she'd caught his inference but wasn't going to take the bait.

  He pressed. "You don't date him?"

  "I don't see that that's any of your business, but no, we don't date. Now, if you give me the number where we can reach you Monday, we'll call and give you an estimate and tell you what time your car will be finished."

  "Do you do that for all your customers?"

  "Any new ones and anybody who asks. In the long run it saves time and prevents misunderstandings and problems."

  He should leave. But damn! He wanted to know more about her. "Are you going to work on my car?"

  Her eyes met his. "Do you think it unlikely a woman can understand engines, lugnuts and bolts?"

  Seth imagined she'd had to defend her occupation more times than she wanted to count. "I've never met a lady mechanic, let alone a woman who owned her own garage. You're unique." And captivating. But if he'd hoped she would distract him from the jar of moving and ease his restlessness, her expression told him jogging would have to do it instead. She wasn't interested.

  "That's a new way of putting it," she finally said.

  Against his better judgment, he persisted. "What makes you unique, Darcy? Why are you so comfortable here?" He waved at the service lifts.

  She looked as if she might not answer. But she must have seen he was truly interested. "This was my pop's garage. For as long as I can remember, I followed him around, handed him screwdrivers, wires, wrenches. By the time I was twelve, I knew my way around an engine better than my older brothers."

  "You grew up in Hershey?"

  "Um hm. Lived here all my life."

  And loved it from the tone of her voice. He couldn't imagine being that attached to any place...or to anyone. Obviously, he and Darcy were cut from different bolts of cloth. Their backgrounds were as different as December and July. She'd already figured that out. He'd do well to follow her lead.

  ***

  The sky was a blue swell tipped with foamy whitecaps. Darcy hoped the unusual and muggy, beginning-of-June heat wave would be short-lived. Letting her back screen door swing shut, she descended her porch steps carefully, clutching the crock pot bubbling with baked beans.

  As she threaded her way around the high spirea hedge separating her property from Marsha's, she heard splashing and Jenna's squeals. Darcy emerged into her neighbor's yard and grinned affectionately at the eight-year-old girl sitting on Chuck's shoulders as he tried to buck her off into the above-ground pool.

  Chuck Porter was a gentle man with a big heart who'd somehow slipped past the wall of Marsha's divorce-hardened reserve. Husky, with a full butterscotch beard, he reminded Darcy of Paul Bunyan. He waved at her. "Come on in and cool off."

  "Yeah, Darcy," Jenna chimed in. "Mom doesn't want to get her hair wet again. You don't care about yours, do you?"

  Since her divorce, Marsha was constantly concerned about her appearance. She made sure she was pedicured and manicured, with each brown hair brushed neatly into a perfect hairdo.

  Darcy walked to the picnic table and set down her contribution to dinner. "I'll hop in after supper."

  Marsha emerged from her back door in a pink and yellow Hawaiian print outfit. Her makeup was flawlessly applied and she looked younger than her thirty-two years. Darcy marveled at how different she and Marsha were, but cherished the closeness they'd developed in the last three years.

  When Darcy's father died and his estate settled, Darcy had invested her share in the Cape Cod next door. She and Marsha had become fast friends. And Jenna... Darcy had fallen in love with her at first sight. Her huge brown eyes, her full-cheeked face framed by heavy straight chestnut hair that swung around her chin. She'd stolen Darcy's heart and Darcy wondered if she could feel any more had her own child been born.

  Darcy asked, "Can I help with anything?"

  Marsha waved her inside. "Sure. There's lots more to carry out. Chuck bought macaroni salad, pickled eggs and potato chips so we could all swim and I didn't have to spend time in the kitchen." As she led Darcy into the back door of the compact rancher, she said in a low voice, "He's so thoughtful, he scares me."

  Darcy opened Marsha's refrigerator and took out two liters of soda. "Why are you scared? You deserve to be loved."

  Marsha's amber eyes were deadly serious. "Do I? What if I mess it up again? What if I'm not enough to keep him here instead of at card games? What if..."

  Darcy had picked up the package of paper cups. She thumped them back down on the counter as she confronted her friend. "Stop it. Chuck and Brad are two different people. Don't compare them; don't compare your relationships."

  Marsha's eyes became unnaturally bright. "I have to. I can't make a mistake again. I have to think about Jenna. I thought love was enough the first time and it wasn't."

  Darcy's tone gentled. "You're older now and definitely wiser. Trust your judgment. Trust Jenna's. I think she's closer to Chuck than she ever was to Brad."

  Marsha nodded. "She adores him. Brad hardly paid attention to her while we were married. Since the divorce, he's been a Santa Claus. Chuck spends time with her instead of buying her presents. He listens to her. I can't understand why Brad wants custody."

  "I met his lawyer."

  Marsha set out the containers from the deli. "Seth Hallaran? How? Where? Do you realize the kinds of cases he's won? That write-up in the newspaper gave a list. What am I going to do with that kind of power behind Brad? My lawyer's good, but, Darcy, I'm scared."

  Marsha didn't want her questions answered, she wanted reassurance. "No one could be a better mother than you are. Stop worrying. Brad doesn't have a leg to stand on. That's what I told Mr. Hallaran."

  "You talked to him about Jenna?"

  "Not exactly. But I did get the impression he doesn't know Brad yet." She'd also gotten the impression this move to Hershey hadn't been easy for him. There'd been tension around his eyes and mouth. Of course, that could have been from the situation that had brought him to her. But she didn't think so.

  Darcy was amazed how easy it was to conjure up his face, his body, the heat that had flashed through her when she'd looked into his eyes or he'd moved close. She took one of the paper cups from the stack and opened a liter of soda. Her mouth was suddenly dry.

  Popping off the lid on the tub of macaroni salad, Marsha said, "Lawyers don't care if they know their clients. They want to win. Period. Seth Hallaran's track record shows he's good at it."

  Darcy pushed the disturbing lawyer out of her mind to concentrate on her friend. "You have to stop worrying or it will affect Jenna. If Brad comes to his senses, he won't sue for custody. Can't you talk to him?"

  "We lost the ability to talk a long time ago."

  "For Jenna's sake, you have to try."

  "I know you're right. When he picks her up next weekend, I will."

  Marsha opened the silverware drawer and collected a variety of spoons, forks, and knives. "I couldn't have gotten through the divorce and all of this without you."


  Darcy tipped the soda bottle to pour. "Don't underestimate yourself. You're a strong woman. And you have Jenna. She makes all the difference in the world."

  Marsha looked Darcy squarely in the eyes. "Did you ever think of adopting?"

  "I've thought about it. But I'm so involved at the garage. The business is important to me and harder than ever to keep on its feet. I don't know if I have what it takes to be a single parent."

  Marsha picked up the tray with hot dogs and pushed the door open. "You were willing to do it once."

  "Because I had no choice. Gary told me more than once children wouldn't fit into his plans for years, if ever. I should have suspected then he wasn't the right man for me. I should have seen how calculating and selfish he was."

  "Love gives us blinders. How well I know. I'm trying to see clearly with Chuck. And if there's hope for me, there's hope for you. You're only twenty-eight. You could still meet someone special, someone who likes a small tourist town and wants to spend his life here, someone who wants children and a family."

  Thinking about Gary, her poor judgment where he was concerned, and her miscarriage, still brought Darcy sadness. Too inexperienced to see the warning signals, she'd loved him and dreamt about having a future with him. But he'd never had any intention of staying in Hershey or taking her with him to New York. If she'd told him their birth control had failed and she was pregnant, it wouldn't have made a difference. He'd never loved her. The day he told her he was leaving, he'd made that perfectly clear.

  While Marsha went to the pool to call Chuck and Jenna, a face flickered in front of Darcy's eyes. As if she'd asked herself a question, she silently answered it. No. Seth Hallaran was not that special man either. For one thing, he was out of her league. For another, he was on the opposing side. Case closed.

  ***

  Sunday afternoon, Seth sat in his study, reading Brad Winston's file. The man claimed his ex-wife was neglecting her daughter. She had a lover. The neglect Brad claimed was a different matter. He'd said Marsha left Jenna with a babysitter more nights than she was home with her. He'd said she left her daughter in the house unattended. He'd said Marsha forgot about her daughter often. Case in point. Jenna had called Brad from school upset and in tears because nobody had arrived to pick her up. He'd claimed Jenna's clothes were worn and inadequate. And he couldn't understand why since he was paying child support.

  Added together and if all of it was true...

  Aah. Seth could remember a time when he automatically believed the man. His crusade was simpler in those days. He thought he'd left these cases behind. He had for the most part. This was the only custody matter he was handling, or was thinking about handling.

  Seth rubbed his hand over his face and closed down the file on his laptop. Instead of being cloistered in an air conditioned condo, he should be outside appreciating the fine weather. The heat had abated to a balmy eighty and he knew exactly where he'd like to be and what he'd like to be doing.

  He'd found an ideal spot for a picnic when he was exploring the back roads--a grassy area with trees and a stream. He imagined Darcy sitting there with him on a blanket. The sun would turn her hair to fire and her amazing eyes would absorb him like a blue-green sea.

  Pushing his chair away from his desk with his heels, he stood. Why couldn't he stop thinking about her? Granted, he wasn't used to having his overtures rejected. But it was more than that. She was different. Different from women he knew. Yes, they were independent and polished. But Darcy...

  There was innocence there, somehow maintained with the independence. Maybe because she'd lived in a smaller town all her life. The reason didn't matter. The innocence was there. He wanted to get close to it and experience it for himself.

  He'd already Googled her and found her address. He fingered the piece of paper where he'd written it, contemplating his options.

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