But Will could easily imagine Harper and Jeremy and a white Christmas in Chicago. Susan would adore them both. She’d fill up the fridge and freezer with baked goods because Jeremy was “a growing boy.” And they would both love Susan, too.
“They’re good for you, honey, I can tell.”
But was he good enough for them?
That’s what plagued him. Even in something as simple as that scene by the pool with Whitney. He should have been standing guard over Harper’s brother to make sure no harm came to him, just as he’d promised her. But he’d failed. Badly enough that he couldn’t stop going over the situation in his head—and also couldn’t keep from asking Susan, “Did you hear about Whitney’s explosion at the barbecue?”
Susan sighed. She’d obviously been apprised of every nasty detail. “That poor girl. Whitney lost her way after that first miscarriage.”
“I’m sorry about that. We all are.” Whitney had had three miscarriages in the last two years. It had broken Evan into pieces, especially since he’d been on the road for work each time his wife had miscarried.
“They’ve been trying so hard for a family,” Susan said, “and Whitney’s disappointment is coming out in her testiness.”
Testiness? Will had a whole other word to describe it. “I know they’ve been through a lot. But still...Evan’s a saint.”
“He’s a good man. One who bends over backward to handle Whitney’s moods because he appreciates how badly she feels about not being able to give him a child.”
The Mavericks backed each other up to the ends of the earth, always there when anything bad went down, but they all turned to Susan when they needed to keep their emotional crap from festering inside. She was their sounding board on matters of the heart.
“Trust me, honey,” she added, “unfulfilled need can change a woman’s entire personality.”
He could see that, but the truth was that Whitney had always been more difficult than most. And he knew without a doubt that Harper, in the same situation, wouldn’t bust a guy’s manhood the way Whitney did.
The thought of Harper with a child, his child, growing inside her sent a wave of emotion flowing through him—delight, need, fear, desire. And something that felt giddily like happiness.
“I think that’s also why she doesn’t pay more attention to Noah,” Susan said thoughtfully, as if she’d just considered the point. “It breaks her heart. Hopefully when a baby finally comes, she’ll settle down again. Right now, Evan’s giving her the supportive environment she needs to try again, and I’ll be there for your brother. I know you will, too, all of you. But I also want you to realize that while I understand Whitney’s feelings, I’m not making excuses for all her bad behavior. And that incident with your friend…” She didn’t finish, and he could almost see the shake of her head.
Her words brought back the ache of guilt. “I shouldn’t have let Jeremy get hurt.”
“I wish he hadn’t been hurt, too. But the truth is that you can’t protect everyone all the time. No matter how much you wish you could. Trust me, I should know, with the five of you.”
Susan was right. The Mavericks had certainly given Susan and Bob a crazy ride those first few years. But Jeremy was different.
“I wish I could do more than provide a new job for him and work on the car. Harper works so hard to look out for her brother. But every time I offer to help, she insists on doing it all on her own.”
“Maybe that’s because she thinks she still is on her own.”
Frustration rose up in Will. “How can I get her to understand that I’m not going anywhere? And that I mean it when I say I won’t hurt her or her brother? What else can I do to get through to her?”
“You know how.”
No. The reaction was instinctive. Even before Susan continued with exactly what he knew she was going to say.
“Have you told her about your past yet?”
“I rewrote that story already,” he said in far too sharp a tone, considering that Susan was only trying to help him. Plus, as soon as the words came out of his mouth, he wasn’t actually sure they were true. Sure, he’d rewritten the part where he was poor, but what about the rest? Because he sure as hell had never been able to forget that he came from a worthless thief and bully who hadn’t deserved to be called a father. Still, he had to ask Susan, “What’s so important about my past that she needs to know?”
“Will.” There was a slight note of exasperation in Susan’s voice. “She needs to know because you love her. And love means being completely open, even if you’re scared.”