Home > Falling for His Proper Mistress(22)

Falling for His Proper Mistress(22)
Author: Tessa Radley

“I seem to have taken over your home,” Avery told Melissa apologetically.

“I don’t mind.” Melissa smiled at her. “It’s nice to have company.”

“But you’ve always said you wanted peace,” Guy protested. “If you’re lonely, you should come and stay in one of the family suites at Manor Lodge. In fact, there are two spare ones right now.”

“I’m not lonely—and having Avery as company is different from living with you guys.” Rolling her eyes, Melissa said to Avery, “Believe me, sometimes a girl needs a break from her brothers. It was a pleasant surprise to discover I had a sister when Christian revealed Erica to us.”

Avery slid her gaze to Guy to see how he was reacting to Melissa’s revelation. But she detected none of the resentment she’d half expected.

“So that’s a roundabout way of saying you’re welcome to stay for as long as you like,” Melissa smiled at Avery, “but my brothers are not.”

Guy howled in protest.

Avery started to giggle. “Hey, I know exactly what Melissa means.”

More laughter bubbled up in her throat as Guy glared at her.

“Traitor!”

“I was two when my parents died. I was lucky enough to be taken in by my aunt and uncle and I grew up with my cousins—four boys. Believe me, I always wanted a sister, too.”

“Hey, now you’re both ganging up on me.”

“Wait until Erica arrives, you’ll be outnumbered three to one,” said Melissa with sisterly satisfaction.

Guy gave her an evil grin. “I’ll have to call in reinforcements.”

“No!” Avery and Melissa chorused. They glanced at each other and started to laugh.

When Erica walked in, she paused in the doorway. “Sounds like a festive dinner.”

“Avery mentioned you were coming to bake a pie. There’s more than enough food, so join us for dinner.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

But Avery wondered if she was the only one to detect Erica’s hesitation. Her hand touched her tummy. These people were her baby’s family…she would’ve loved her baby to have grown up among them.

If only things could’ve been different. Not going to happen. Even though she’d needed Erica and Melissa present to stop the awkwardness between her and Guy, she was a little irritated that he’d made no attempt to corner her and discuss the baby.

It only underlined the fact that this was no romantic daydream; this was real life and sometimes it didn’t work out quite as planned.

Guy had hoped for time alone with Avery.

The shock and terror that had followed her announcement that they were expecting a baby had started to wear off. Perhaps it was for the best that their talk didn’t happen tonight. Avery deserved time to recover from the accident, and he could do with more time to get his head around the idea of the baby so that he could decide how he was going to handle the problem.

After they’d finished dinner, Guy found himself slouching on a barstool in the kitchen watching as the three women worked around the preparation island in perfect harmony. His sister, the half sister whom he’d treated with extreme wariness until very recently…and Avery.

Guy couldn’t quite decide how best to describe his relationship with Avery.

He frowned as he watched her kneading the dough for the apple pie, her small hands moving with sensuous grace. Melissa had cut the apples into elegant slices and at Avery’s insistence she settled down on the kitchen stool beside Guy and started to rub the small of her back.

“Did you hurt your back at work?” he asked.

“I’m not sure what I’ve done. It’s aching a little.”

For a split second the image of his mother rubbing her back in a similar fashion flashed through his mind.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” Then Guy shook his head to clear the image, and said more truthfully. “Actually, for a moment you reminded me of Mom doing that. I think she used to rub her back as well.”

“How old were you when your mom died?” asked Erica from the other side of the kitchen island. “Six.”

Guy hadn't been there when she'd died. He'd been sleeping over at a friend's home. For years he'd been convinced if he'd been home she might not have died. It was his fault.

Blake had gotten to say goodbye. So had Gavin and Trevor and his father. Even Melissa, though she was only two at the time.

Guy had pretended he was fine, and retreated behind a happy-go-lucky facade that everyone except him accepted as the real Guy. He’d resolved never to give another human that much power over his life.

The only sound that broke the silence was the slap of the rolling pin on dough as Avery rolled it out.

Erica was sprinkling cinnamon over the apple slices. “I’ve heard plenty about your dad but not that much about your mom.” Giving him and Melissa a swift glance, she added, “I don’t mean to be nosy, but I’ve wondered, and you are my family now.”

Melissa gave a sigh. “Dad changed after Mom died. He was very upset by her death, so we avoided talking about Mom at all.”

“How sad!” Avery stopped rolling. “I never realized how lucky I was. My uncle told me all about what my mom had been like growing up. And both my aunt and uncle regularly pulled out the photo album and showed me photos of my parents’ wedding, of my first birthday party. I always knew who they were.”

“Guy used to stare at Mom’s paintings.”

Melissa clambered off the seat and started to cut the left over pastry into strips, while Avery pressed the dough into a baking tin. Erica carefully arranged the apple slices on top of the dough.

“He used to say they made him remember Mom, what colors she liked and how she smelled,” Melissa continued after putting the pie in the pre-heated oven, “but Dad sold all the pictures—he didn’t want anything to remind him of Mom. We’ve since managed to buy some back.”

“Dad also got rid of the camera he and Mom had given me for my sixth birthday.”

Melissa looked horrified. “I never knew that.”

He didn’t look at Erica…or Avery. “I used to say I wanted to take photos like Mom’s paintings when I grew up. I suppose it was too painful for him to contemplate. Later I bought my own camera and joined the school’s camera club.”

“I remember that,” said Melissa. “You wanted to be a photographer.”

“But Dad wanted me to do a business degree. Like Blake.” Guy shrugged. “Eventually we compromised. I did the business degree, but only after he agreed to let me go to culinary school.”

“How could he do that?” Erica protested.

“Easily. He was Don Jarrod, he was used to imposing his will on everyone around him.”

All three women had fallen silent, their eyes focused on him with varying degrees of…pity.

Guy forced an easy smile. “It was a long time ago. At least I got to do something that I loved. Something creative and satisfying, yet still lucrative.”

“But you never forgot your mom,” said Erica.

“No, I didn’t, but it took a long time for me to stop resenting her for leaving us,” he admitted in a rush of honesty. “Losing her wrecked Dad’s life. I didn’t like the kind of man Dad became after Mom died.”

“How did he change?” Avery asked in a tentative voice. She’d propped her elbows on the island and her chin on her hands.

Guy shrugged. “None of us could do anything right.”

“He had huge expectations of us all and wanted us to stay in the business doing what we were told,” added Melissa, shaking out her blond hair. “Just like Guy said.”

“And he let you go to France?” Avery’s voice was filled with disbelief.

“He tried to stop me. He’d planned for me to stay closer. I won that battle.” Even all these years later Guy could remember the satisfaction he’d gained in that moment.

“Guy wasn’t the only one who left. Blake went to New York and I escaped to Los Angeles where I ran an ultra fashionable spa,” Melissa added from where she’d perched herself back on the stool beside him. “And once Gavin finished university, he worked all over the globe, as far from home as possible. Only Trevor stayed in Aspen—yet even he wouldn’t work for Dad at Jarrod Ridge.”

“So Don Jarrod’s empire was in danger of crumbling.” Erica said, her hands busy as she wiped the surface of the island clean. “But he had the last say from beyond the grave, and forced you all to come back and work together if you wanted anything of the estate—”

“Don’t forget his will also introduced you into the family,” interjected Melissa. “You also stand to inherit a share of his empire.”

Erica put the cloth in the sink and pulled a face. “Much to everyone’s dismay.”

“Not mine,” said Melissa quickly. “I told you I always wanted a sister. You’re part of the family now.”

There was a silence.

Avery was looking at Guy expectantly. What did she expect him to say? That he wanted another sister? That he was glad to discover Erica’s existence?

Hell, no. It only proved that his father had not been as inconsolable as Guy had foolishly believed all his life. So much for his resolve never to love a woman as faithfully as his father had loved his mother because he didn’t want to risk the same heartbreak. He’d never been the kind of man who dug too deep into feelings, and he wasn’t about to start now. It hurt too dammed much, revealed too much of what was missing in his life.

Except he couldn’t for the life of him think of a flippant comment to make.

He turned away only to have Erica raise a questioning eyebrow at him from the other side of the kitchen, then glance meaningfully toward Avery. She was matchmaking! Erica had suspected his interest in Avery on the night of the oyster-and-champagne cocktail party, and it had become a certainty, he could read it on her face. Yet instead of irritation, Guy experienced a sudden unexpected bond with his half sister. And couldn’t stop himself from winking at her.

Instantly Erica winked back.

“Okay, maybe it won’t be so bad having another female in the family,” said Guy with feigned reluctance.

“Good to know you feel that way.” The sparkle in Erica’s eyes outshone the radiance of the diamond solitaire on her ring finger.

Without intending to, Guy found himself seeking out Avery, and the approval in her sweet smile caused warmth to pool deep in his chest. For the first time since he’d come back to Jarrod Ridge he felt some degree of peace.

He had to remind himself that he wasn’t the kind of man who indulged in emotion and soul-searching.

“The timer just went off,” he said. “Which one of you three is going to cut me the first slice?”

Wearing her dressiest outfit the following night, a gold satin Versace dress that had been a gift from her aunt and uncle for her twenty-fifth birthday, Avery arrived early at the ballroom—more out of habit than anything else. She’d taken care with her makeup, and barely limped in the gold ballet flats she wore.

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