Prince Charming Can Wait (Ever After) Read online

  "It's too late, Harlan." She leaned forward. "I care. Emma cares. Eppie cares. Jackson cares. People care about you."

  He ground his jaw as he picked up another ring. This one was all gold with twelve roses engraved on the band. Roses. Like the ones he'd given her on their wedding night.

  "Every time Jason goes out of town, I get scared," she said softly.

  He looked over at her. "You think he's not coming back?"

  "Intellectually, I know he is, but I still get scared that he might not. Old fears take a long time to die." She tucked her hair behind her ear, suddenly looking like the little sister he'd met for the first time when he was seventeen, and she was twelve. "We all carry our baggage with us our whole lives. Emma has terrible ones, and you're messing with her."

  He set down the rose ring. "I'm not. We both know what's going on. It's so she can adopt Mattie. You know that, right?"

  "I know that, but what are you doing to Mattie?" She gestured at the sleeping boy. "Noah still has nightmares about his mother dying. He sleeps in my bed with me when Jason's not home. He's afraid of losing me, because he already lost one mother. Parents aren't supposed to abandon you, and we both know how much it sucks when that happens." Her eyes were glistening. "You never forgave Mom for letting your dad take you away. If you're part of the adoption for Mattie and you're not there when she moves in, you're breaking a promise to her."

  Harlan scowled at Astrid as emotions hammered at him, emotions he didn't recognize, but that left a cold void cascading through him. "I'm not making a promise. I haven't even met her—"

  "What about when she asks Emma where you are? She's almost five, Harlan, old enough to understand that she was adopted by a couple, and one of them is not there. You're not just messing with Emma, you're messing with Mattie, too."

  Harlan ran his hand through his hair, shifting uncomfortably. "I'm not messing with them. I'm protecting them. I'm helping them have more than they can have on their own—"

  "No. You're abandoning them."

  "I'm not." He swore. "I just—"

  "When we thought you were dead, Emma told me why you guys had gotten married. She told me you didn't want to die without anyone caring. When you married her, you bought yourself a future widow, Harlan. Are you buying yourself a child, too? Someone else to cry when you die?"

  He stared at her. "I'm not even going to meet her—"

  "It's not about protecting them, is it? No, it's not. It's about making yourself feel better." Astrid shook her head in disgust. "It's like when you rescued me, and then you disappeared. You run in, save the day, and then move on. You can't do that in real life. You can't do that to me, and you can't do it to Emma, or Mattie." She looked at him, and there were tears glistening in her eyes. "It's not fair, Harlan. Not to any of us."

  He swore again. "I know it's not," he tried to explain. "That's why I'm leaving—"

  "Seriously?" She gaped at him in obvious disbelief. "Oh, so after you marry Emma and get her to fall in love with you, and after you make promises to a little girl you've never met, then you're going to spare everyone and leave? Really? That actually makes sense in your head?"

  "Astrid?" Jason's sleepy voice interrupted the conversation, and Harlan turned to see the man standing in the doorway.

  Jason was wearing a pair of striped pajama bottoms. Pajamas. Who the hell wore pajamas? Harlan had a sudden feeling that he'd stepped into some surreal world of pajamas, children, and domesticity. He didn't belong here, and he needed to get out.

  "Harlan stopped by," Astrid said. "He needed help with something."

  Jason yawned and nodded a greeting at Harlan. "You couldn't wait until morning?" His voice was friendly, though, as he ambled across the living room and dropped a gentle kiss on Astrid's mouth. He brushed a thumb across her cheek, then looked at Harlan, his face a little less friendly. "You made her cry again?"

  Harlan looked at the threesome: the sleeping child, his sister, and Jason. They fit together, and he felt like an intruder. He quickly grabbed his choice from the pile of rings and stood up. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking. I'll go."

  "No, it's fine." Jason eyed him. "Stay for breakfast. I'd like to get to know the man who rescued Astrid from the hospital. She talks about you a lot."

  He glanced at Astrid, who stood up and put her hand in Jason's. "You do?"

  "Of course I do," she said wearily. "Stop being surprised by human nature. It really shouldn't be that unexpected that you matter to me." Challenge flickered in her eyes. "I don't think you should stay for breakfast," she said. "Go back to Emma. Be there when she wakes up, and stay there. For good. It's too late to back out now."

  Jason's eyes narrowed. "Back out of what? Your marriage to Emma? You're going to walk out on her?"

  "No," Harlan started to say, but when Astrid's face darkened, he cut it off. "What, Astrid? What would you have me do?"

  She met his gaze. "Just stop lying to yourself. That's it. That would be enough to get you started." She paused. "And put me on the call list if you die. Believe it or not, I care enough about you to be willing to be burdened by your death." Then she turned to her husband and touched his arm. "I'm tired."

  Jason ran his hand over her shoulder, squeezing gently. "Then go to bed, my dear. I'll grab Noah and follow."

  Astrid didn't even look back as she walked out of the room and headed up the stairs. Jason glanced at Harlan, but said nothing to him as he scooped up Noah, cradling the boy to his chest. He paused for a moment, and silence hovered between the two men.

  "Sorry I hit you," Harlan said finally, voicing the apology that had been haunting him for almost a year.

  Jason shrugged. "You hit like a wimp, so it was no biggie." He tucked Noah tighter against his chest and lowered his voice. "But you should know, that if you break my wife's heart or Emma's, I will hit you back, and I won't pull my punch like you did. Have a nice night and see yourself out."

  Chapter Sixteen

  Like the last time they'd made love, Emma awoke to an empty bed and an empty house. She bolted upright in bed, her heart hammering in her chest as she looked around. "Harlan?"

  The only sound was that of a Jet Ski racing by the house.

  He was gone. Again.

  The urge to race to the living room to look for him was like a desperate scream of need, but she didn't move. She forced herself to sink back into the bedding, and she took a shaky breath, trying to slow the hammering of her heart. "He won't let Mattie down," she said aloud. No matter what he did after today, he would be there for the home study.

  But she couldn't help but look at the nightstand for a good-bye note...and what she saw made her breath catch. On the nightstand was a bouquet of pink roses cut from her garden. He'd included some of the buds, like before, but this time there were also three blossoms in full bloom, their fragile scent decorating the air. Three? One for her, him, and Mattie? Her heart seemed to leap, and then she saw a note taped to the vase.

  She quickly sat up and pulled it off. It was written on notepaper that she'd designed and printed. His scrawl was bold and brief on the outside, just her name. She opened the note, and then her breath caught when she saw he had taped a ring to the paper. "Oh, Harlan," she whispered, her heart leaping…until she read his message. This might help convince Dottie.

  It might help convince Dottie? He'd given her a wedding ring, and that was how he'd phrased it? Her heart sank at the terse note. Yes, she knew he still planned to leave, but last night's lovemaking had been incredible. The passion had been intense, but there had been more than that. Tenderness. Laughter. Telling stories about their childhood. It had been a night of bonding. Not that she'd expected everything to change long-term, but...well...maybe a little. Maybe she hadn't been able to kill all hope for how he made her feel, for him.

  Pressing her lips together, she peeled the ring off the paper and studied it.

  It was a plain silver band, and she recognized the imprint on the inside as one of Astrid's. With all the beautiful rings that As
trid made, he'd chosen the plainest one for her, one that was utterly devoid of any personality. In private, Astrid called them her no-love-rings, because she firmly believed that anyone who would choose that ring didn't have enough passion in their souls to make a marriage work. She sold a surprising number of them, much to her dismay.

  Emma leaned back against the pillows, and stared out the window at the lake. It was a beautiful sunny day, with the water sparkling, but she barely noticed it, unable to think of anything but the man who'd given her the ring. Between the fact Harlan hadn't been there again when she'd woken up, the impersonal note, and the plain ring, he had made certain that she understood exactly how it was between them.

  Sighing, she turned the ring over in her fingers, the smoothly polished silver like a mirror. What did it reflect? A marriage based on nothing. She'd been a fool, hadn't she? She'd thought she was protecting herself, but it had been a lie. She'd opened herself to him on every level.

  She'd told herself she'd married him for Mattie, but the truth was, she'd married him because, during that night on the lake, he'd made her believe again. In life. In hope. In humanity. In love. It hadn't been a desire to help Mattie that had overruled her haunting fear of men and marriage. It had been the fact that Harlan had awakened her soul again, and she had been so desperate to feel alive that she'd clung to that moment, to him, thinking that he would bring her back to life.

  After all her talk about how she didn't want or need a man, the reality of how vulnerable she was to Harlan was a terrifying shock. She'd been lying to herself that she was fine being alone. She hadn't been fine. In truth, she'd simply been letting her soul die until a man could revive it for her.

  Well, screw that. She was tired of being the pathetic female.

  Emma kicked her blanket off and padded across the floor to her dresser. She pulled out her top drawer and fished around in the back of it until she came across the velvet box she'd hidden in there. She pulled it out and opened the lid. Sitting in the plush velvet was her wedding ring from Preston. It was a plain platinum band that looked almost exactly like the one Harlan had selected, except it was obscenely more expensive. Her engagement ring had been an enormous diamond. He'd demanded it back as part of the divorce, but he hadn't cared about the wedding ring.

  She had. It represented a time when she had hope, and she'd also kept it as a reminder that a wedding band didn't solve her problems.

  She tightened her fist around both wedding bands, and then slipped out her back door onto the dock. She walked all the way to the end, and then looked at Preston's ring. "No more," she whispered. "I release you from my life." Then she hurled it into the water. It landed with a small splash much too close to the dock, sinking slowly down into the clear water until it settled in the grasses at the bottom, blinking out of sight.

  Relief rushed through her, a sense of accomplishment, and she realized how tightly she'd still been holding onto her old life and her old dreams. It felt unbelievably good to finally let him go.

  Feeling triumphant, she looked down at Harlan's band, still clutched in her hand, her intention to cast it into the water fading as she looked at the gleaming metal. "Damn you," she whispered. "Why did you have to leave me the roses, too?" Because she couldn't stop thinking about the roses. Why had he left them? He'd even taken the time to put them in a vase.

  The plain ring was the man he claimed to be.

  The roses were the man he couldn't help being.

  If she didn't believe in him, who would? No one, and certainly not him.

  She had a feeling he wouldn't appear until noon, right when Dottie was scheduled to arrive, trying to be the plain-ring man. He'd tried to put distance between them, but he hadn't been able to walk away without picking flowers for her. She had to decide who she believed, her or him.

  With a deep breath, she set the ring at the tip of her fourth finger on her left hand, but her hands were shaking too much to get it on. "You couldn't have picked one that was different from Preston's?" she muttered.

  She took a deep breath and let her hands fall to her sides. "Okay, Emma, you can do this. You're already married to him. You already believe in him. The ring isn't a trap." Putting the ring on wasn't for Mattie. Dottie had already seen her without a ring. Dottie wasn't the one who needed convincing. It was Harlan. And her.

  Emma looked down at the ring again, then knelt at the edge of the dock. She dragged the ring through the water, through the lake that gave her peace and a home, letting the warm water coat the ring and her hand. Finally, she took it out, and with hands that were still shaking, she slipped it onto her ring finger.

  It fit perfectly, settling onto her hand as if it had been meant for her all along. A part of her wanted to tear it off and hurl it into the lake before it could hurt her, but at the same time, something seemed to settle inside her, something that had been running for so long.

  Closing her fist to protect the ring, as if it might fall off on its own, Emma turned back toward the house. She had less than four hours to make the house into a home fit for a five year old, and to make herself look like the perfect mother for Mattie.

  Less than four hours until her husband would walk in that door.

  ***

  The silence was overwhelming. The tension brittle. The laughter gone. Even the sun had disappeared behind dark storm clouds that were encroaching upon the afternoon.

  Emma squeezed her fists in her lap, fighting back the most incredible sense of desolation and betrayal.

  "It's almost four o'clock," Dottie said, closing her notebook, watching Emma carefully. "I have only one more question for you."

  Emma managed a smile. "What is it?"

  The social worker's eyes were thoughtful, and far too astute. "In your opinion, why is it that your husband failed to make it to the home study today?"

  He hadn't appeared. In four hours, Harlan had not called, texted, or walked in the door. He had simply blown it off. "This happens sometimes," Emma said, almost choking on the words. "As I said, sometimes he gets called to an emergency and he can't let me know until he's done."

  "Not even a text?" Dottie leaned forward. "Not even for something as important as this?"

  Emma bit her lip, fighting to keep her composure, when all she wanted to do was leap up and scream at him, at the world. "He has a sensitive job."

  "Indeed." Dottie set her notebook in her briefcase. "It seems to me that a man whose job requires him to abandon his wife in critical moments without so much as a text might not be the best father for a child who has already suffered a great deal of loss."

  "No!" Emma felt like her heart was going to crack. "It's not like that. He's a good man. And I love Mattie. She doesn't want to go to South Carolina. She'll be happy and loved here—"

  "And abandoned regularly?"

  "I would never abandon her—"

  "Just you? Shouldn't you have said 'we' will never abandon her?" Dottie's eyes glittered sharply.

  Tears stung her eyes, but she fought to control them. "Dottie, I know what it's like to be a child that no one cares about. I would never let Mattie feel that way—"

  "I don't doubt that." Dottie shook her head. "But you aren't the only one in this house." She stood up, signaling the end of the interview.

  "No." Emma lurched to her feet. "Please don't. It's not like that—" And suddenly the entire story came tumbling out, every bit of it, including why Harlan had married her and why she'd married him. "It's all just because I want to do what's right for Mattie—"

  "You faked a marriage to get approved? Really?" Dottie shook her head. "I'll be honest. I like you, Emma. And I even liked Harlan when I met him." Sympathy flashed in her eyes. "And I even understand, on some level, what drove the two of you to get married. But neither of you, alone or individually, is in a place where you're ready to focus on Mattie, or any other child in need." She shut her briefcase, locking it down. "She may not like her grandparents, but based on my conversations with the social worker from South Carolina,
they can provide a stable home for her, and they want to."

  Emma's heart felt like it was breaking. "No, please—"

  "There are always children who need to be fostered," Dottie said. "In a year or two, when you're in a better place, give me a call. I think you could be good for kids when the time is right, but for now, I am not going to be able to approve you as a foster parent, or recommend you to adopt her or anyone else."

  "Dottie." Emma followed her to the door, desperately trying to think of what to say. All she could think of was Mattie's desperate face when she'd said that she didn't want to go to her grandparents. "But Mattie needs me—" Dottie paused with her hand on the doorknob. "Mattie will survive. Children always do."

  "Do they?" Emma challenged, no longer able to contain her frustration and anger with Harlan, with a system that erected barriers between families that were supposed to be together, like she and Mattie. "What about Mattie's brother, who ran away? Has anyone found him yet? How well did he do without a home?"

  Dottie raised her brows. "They did find him."

  Emma blanched. "What? When?"

  "In California. The police arrested him, but by the time we found out, they'd already released him. Actually, he escaped from the hospital."

  Emma stared at her, a vice tightening in her chest for the boy she'd never met, the one Mattie had told her so much about. "The hospital? What was wrong with him?"

  "He'd been stabbed in some sort of street fight."

  Emma's stomach turned, and she clutched the doorframe. "Is he okay?"

  Dottie's gaze flicked to Emma's fingers, where they were clenched around the wood. "They don't know. He escaped before he could be evaluated."

  Emma felt sick. "So, he's out there somewhere, injured? He's only fourteen!"

  "Yes, he is." Dottie studied her. "There's one more question I have for you, Ms. Larson."

  Hope leapt through Emma. Was all not lost? "What is it?"

  "If you were to adopt Mattie and her brother was subsequently located, are you willing to also adopt him? A fourteen year old boy who was recently arrested for drug possession and fighting?"