“I think I’ll just stick with a dozen.”
“Red?” Mrs. Peterson asked speculatively.
Hunter considered that. He knew that the color of a rose you sent to a woman meant something. He could also see from the look of anticipation on Mrs. Peterson’s face that red meant something really good.
“Make them red,” Hunter decided. “You can bill me or I can stop by tomorrow afternoon and pay for them, but I want to make sure she gets them first thing in the morning.”
“You got it,” Mr. Peterson said.
Hunter grabbed Tyler’s hand and turned to go, but Tyler tugged twice to stop him. “My mom’s gonna like the flowers,” he said with authority, and Hunter felt pride swell up in him like nothing he’d ever felt before. He wasn’t sure if it was the knowledge that he’d pleased his son or the knowledge that he was about to please Abby, but something filled him with warmth and rightness…maybe a combination of both.
“I think you’re right,” Hunter told Tyler, then a thought struck him and he stooped down and caught his son’s gaze. For the first time since he’d met Tyler, Hunter noticed that the little boy’s eyes were exactly the same color as his eyes. His nose was the same. His lips had the odd little upward curl at the corners that was the mark of all Wyman men.
Hunter was hit by a strong, almost uncontrollable urge to hug Tyler. To hold him. To feel the little boy that he’d created. To give him love. All kinds of love. To let him know that he was loved. So loved that Hunter could barely breathe for the strength of it.
But that wasn’t appropriate. He didn’t really know this little boy and Tyler certainly didn’t know him. He didn’t want to scare him.
Instead, he steadied his hands on Tyler’s shoulders. “One of the most important things about flowers,” he said, studying his son’s eyes, feeling things that threatened to overpower him, “is that they need to be a surprise.”
“A surprise?”
“Yeah, women love surprises.”
Tyler’s eyes widened comically. “My mom will love a surprise!”
“Okay,” Hunter said, again overcome with love for this child who so adored his mother. “Then that makes this our secret.”
“Our secret!” Tyler agreed, obviously tickled to be in on something covert.
Quiet, studying each other, they simply stayed on the sidewalk. Hunter waited patiently while the little boy appraised him, but when Tyler blinked rapidly as if becoming uncomfortable, Hunter rose and, with his hand on Tyler’s shoulder, began leading him home.
Tyler, however, reached up and took Hunter’s hand off his shoulder. Just when Hunter expected him to drop it, he rearranged his small hand inside Hunter’s much larger one so that they were holding hands as they walked toward the bed-and-breakfast.
Emotion swamped Hunter again, but he didn’t say anything—he barely breathed. He had the sudden, intense feeling that the way to win this little boy’s heart was to win his mother’s. And though Hunter was absolutely positive he had had Abby Conway’s heart at one time, all the rules had changed. Even the playing field was different.
Before they took the first step up the stairs to the front porch of the bed-and-breakfast, Hunter stopped Tyler again. “Now remember,” he whispered, “the flowers are our little secret.”
Tyler grinned naughtily. “I remember.”
In that second, Hunter prayed, really prayed, that the flowers would work. Because he suspected that the same gesture that could win his son’s heart, could also lose it if Abby thought the flowers too personal or out of line, considering that this time tomorrow the whole town would know Hunter had returned to Brewster and had sent Abby flowers….
Red ones.
One dozen long-stemmed red—for passion, he suddenly remembered—roses.
God, she was going to kill him.
If a private marriage proposal could make her mad enough to leave the room, long-stemmed red roses seen by the entire town would probably turn her into a nuclear warhead.
He had a feeling he was going to be eating coffee cake for days.
Chapter Three
Just as Tyler had predicted, an off-center, slightly burned coffee cake awaited them the next morning.
“I usually get breakfast pastries from the diner for paying guests,” Abby said apologetically as she served Hunter a slice. “But I thought it over last night and came to the conclusion that it would be better for Tyler if we didn’t treat you as a paying guest.” She caught his gaze. “But more like family.”
Stranded in the regret of her beautiful green eyes, Hunter didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. For Tyler’s sake, he agreed with her. It was better to treat him like family rather than a guest.
But something else, something like a need to cheer her on also made him feel accepting her decision was the right thing to do. After all, how hard could it be to eat a piece of slightly burned breakfast cake?
“I think it’s a great idea,” Hunter said enthusiastically. “This looks…wonderful.”
He took a bite and chewed thoughtfully, hoping to get a burst of cinnamon or sugar—or just plain flavor that would give him an honest reason to compliment her. Unfortunately, the burst of flavor never came and neither did the sense that he had chewed enough that he could swallow. Finally, in desperation, he took a drink of coffee.
“That dry, huh?”
“It’s coffee cake, Abby,” Hunter said brightly. “You’re supposed to sip coffee while you eat it.”
“Oh, right,” Abby said. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Okay, then,” Hunter said. He had never seen the shy, insecure side of Abby before and though it was unusual, it was also endearing. All their time together she had been the one with the confidence who spurred him on. Now it seemed fate was giving him the chance to return the favor. Without hesitation or grimace, he took another bite from his cake.
“Morning, Mom,” Tyler said as he ran into the room. “Hey, Hunter,” he added, jumping onto the chair beside Hunter. Then he saw the coffee cake. “Aw, Mom!”
“Now, Tyler, it can’t be that bad,” Abby returned, slicing off a piece for her son. “See, Hunter’s eating it.”
Hunter would have passed Tyler an apologetic smile, but for Abby’s sake and since he had a plan to rescue his son, he kept his eyes forward and said, “I’ll walk Tyler to school this morning.”
“That’s all right,” Abby said, turning around to face the counter behind her. “It’s on my way to the diner.”
“But he wants to go in early today,” Hunter said, while he gave Tyler a quick look he hoped would convey to his son that he should just go along. “And I told him I would walk him in. In fact,” he added, inspiration striking, “he may not have time to finish that cake.”
Abby sighed. “All right. I’ll wrap it up for him. He can take it with him.”
“Good idea,” Hunter said, and when Abby turned away again he caught Tyler’s gaze and winked at him. “What time do you go in to work?” he asked Abby casually.
“Nine or so,” she replied, her back to Tyler and Hunter. “I don’t have to go in until the second wave of the breakfast crowd.”
“That’s good,” Hunter said, then mouthed to Tyler that they would grab a takeout order of toast on the way to school. Grinning foolishly, Tyler