SETH TOOK IN the situation with one glance.
Matilda, the baby and Fliss. He wasn’t sure which of them looked the most traumatized.
Matilda looked exhausted, but Fliss looked worse, her cheeks unnaturally pale.
The fact that she looked relieved to see him told him just how stressed she was.
Deciding to deal with Matilda first, he dropped to his haunches. “Well, this isn’t quite what I expected to find when Chase asked me to check on you. I gather this baby was in a hurry. How are you doing, honey?”
“Okay, I think.” Finally Matilda was able to catch her breath and speak. “He asked you to check on me?”
“You didn’t answer your phone. Chase was worried, so he called me and I said I’d come over.”
Matilda’s gaze softened. “He’s overprotective.”
“I don’t think so. Looks like he made a good call.” He noticed the skillet and frowned. “What’s that doing there?”
“I don’t know.” Matilda looked at Fliss, who was staring into the middle distance, lost in thought.
“What? Sorry? Oh—” She stared at the skillet as if she’d forgotten its presence. “I brought it up from the kitchen.”
Seth wished he could read her thoughts. “What were you planning to do? Fry her breakfast while she was in labor?”
“I didn’t know she was in labor,” she snapped. “I thought there was an intruder, and that was the only weapon at hand. I was getting ready to knock someone unconscious.”
Matilda gave a choked laugh. “I wish you’d done it to me. I could have done with the pain relief. And you still haven’t told me how you came to be here.”
“Hero found me on the beach.” She glanced at the dog, who thumped his tail, soaking up the approval with style. “I brought him home and found the door wide open and a mug and your phone shattered into pieces on the kitchen floor. I assumed you’d left the door open and someone had taken advantage. Then I heard you scream, so I grabbed the skillet.”
Despite her exhausted state, Matilda shot her a look of admiration. “I would have hidden in the closet and called 911.”
“So would most people.” Seth didn’t want to think about what might have happened had it really been intruders and Fliss had faced them armed only with a skillet. He made a mental note to talk to Chase about increasing security.
“I heard you moan and I thought they were hurting you.”
Matilda’s eyes filled. “You were willing to risk your life for me?”
“Hey, don’t get mushy.” Fliss looked alarmed. “I like a good fight, that’s all.”
Seth wondered whether this was a good moment to point out that Harriet wouldn’t hit someone with a skillet even if her life were threatened. She would have thought it through and measured the risks. Then she would have called 911 right away before even thinking of another plan.
Fliss rushed into action and then thought things through.
It had been one of the things he’d loved most about her. And the reason everything between them had unraveled.
She was glaring at him, apparently forgetting to maintain her sister’s identity. “What was I supposed to do? I heard a thump from upstairs, and then she screamed. I thought she’d been attacked, and when I got upstairs she wasn’t saying anything to me—”
“I couldn’t. I couldn’t breathe through the pain. It was agonizing. And intense. I wasn’t anticipating anything like that.”
Seth propped another pillow behind her, wondering if Matilda knew that her rescuer was Fliss, not Harriet. “Precipitate labor. You had no warning?”
“I’ve been having pains for days, but I thought they were normal pains. Then I was in the kitchen and suddenly the pain was overwhelming. I dropped my cup and my phone. Fortunately the pain eased long enough for me to get upstairs. I was going to call Chase from the bedroom, but then I was hit by another pain, and this one didn’t go away. Will the baby be all right? Has it hurt her being born so quickly?” Matilda looked anxiously at the baby and Seth took a look at her.
“She looks happy and content to me.”
“I was all set to go to the medical center. My bag is packed and everything.”
Seth heard the sound of wheels on the gravel. “Sounds like the cavalry is here, so you’ll be making that trip anyway.”
“It hardly seems worth going to the hospital now.”
“It’s worth it. I’ll call Chase and he can meet you there.” Seth stood up. “Does your daughter have a name?”
Matilda held the baby closer, the vision of a contented new mother. “Rose. Rose Felicity Adams.” She smiled. “Felicity, because if it hadn’t been for Fliss, I wouldn’t have got through it.”
There was a tense silence.
He met Fliss’s gaze, and she looked away quickly, as if she knew it was all over.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m touched.”
Matilda smiled, oblivious to the bomb she’d dropped. “I’ve never seen you this emotional. Now you’re the one having trouble speaking.” She reached out and took Fliss’s hand. “Thank you. Will you take care of Hero for me until Chase gets here?”
“Of course. He can come home with me. He earned his name today. If it hadn’t been for him, I wouldn’t have come looking for you.”
There wasn’t time for any more conversation because at that moment the medical team arrived and Matilda and the baby were bundled into the ambulance.
Seth waited until they were out of sight and then went in search of Fliss.
He found her upstairs in the bedroom cleaning up. She was hauling sheets and towels into a pile, even though half of them hadn’t been anywhere near the baby.
She must have heard his footsteps, but she didn’t pause to look at him. “I’m going to drop this lot in the laundry room. I’ll deal with it tomorrow. I need to get back to Grams. If I take Hero, will you secure this place?”
That was all she was going to say?
He thought he saw something glisten on her cheeks. Was she crying?
He reached out to grab her, but she dodged him. It was possible she hadn’t seen his hand, but more probable that she’d chosen not to take it.
He watched as she walked quickly out of the bedroom, Hero at her heels.
He ached for her. He wanted to drag her into his arms and force her to tell him how she felt, but he knew he had to take this at her pace, so instead of grabbing her again he thrust his hands in his pockets and forced himself to take it slowly.
This was Fliss he was dealing with. Fliss, who hid every feeling. Who never talked about things. Who fought battles on her own, her own way.
Mouth tight, he followed her downstairs and found her in the laundry room.
“Fliss—”
“I’m tired, Seth. It’s been a pretty busy evening.” She kept her back to him. “I’ll lock up here and take Hero to my grandmother’s, so you can take off if you like.”
And he was willing to bet that was exactly what she was hoping he’d do.
The fact that she still wasn’t looking at him told him a lot about how bad she felt. That and the raw emotion shimmering in her voice.
“Talk to me.” He tried gentle, the same approach he would take with an injured animal. No sudden moves.
“Nothing to talk about. The baby is fine. Matilda is fine. What is there to talk about?”
“We could start with the fact that you’re shaking.” He could make out the delicate lines of her profile. He saw that she was on edge, and he understood the reason. “We could talk about the fact that if I wasn’t here, you’d be crying.”
“Never been much of a crier.” She stuffed the laundry into the machine. “But if I did shed a little tear of emotion, that would be understandable, wouldn’t it? It’s not every day a baby is born in front of you in less time than it usually takes me to swallow a hamburger.”
He studied her expression, trying to work out how best to tackle this. Direct? No. She’d definitely run. Oblique, then. Carefully. “Can’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t, but she handled it like a trouper.”
“I was talking about you.”
“I was just the spectator.”
“Didn’t look that way to me. And she did name her daughter after you, so she obviously felt you played an important role.”
“She named her after Fliss. I’m Harriet.”
He didn’t know whether to feel sympathy or pity. “Are we seriously going to do this?”
Her shoulders slumped. “All right, you win. I’m Fliss. Are you happy now?”
“Do I look happy?”
“You’re mad that I pretended to be Harriet. You feel deceived.”
“I wasn’t deceived. I’ve known almost from the first moment that you weren’t Harriet.”
“You did?” Finally she looked at him. “As a matter of interest, what gave me away?”
“The fact that I wanted to take you to the beach, strip you naked and have sex with you. I’ve never felt that way about your sister.”
Her mouth fell open with shock. “Seth—”
“There’s a chemistry between us I can’t explain, and it doesn’t matter how many dresses you wear, or perfect cookies you manage to produce, I’d still know which twin I was talking to.”
“If you knew, why didn’t you say something?”
“Because I assumed you had your reasons for hiding from me. I have a pretty good idea what those reasons were, but maybe it’s time you shared them. I told you the truth. Now it would be good if you did me the same favor and told me the truth.”
He saw her hesitate and thought, for a fleeting moment, that for once she might be about to open up and let him inside her head.
And then she gave a brief shake of her head. “Nothing to share. It just seemed simpler to pretend to be Harriet. You should be grateful. I was sparing us both an awkward moment.”
“Why would it have been awkward? Because we haven’t spoken in ten years? Because the last time we were together, you were walking away from me? Because you walked away without talking to me about how you were feeling? I’m used to that, Fliss. It’s your survival instinct kicking in. It’s the way you operate. The only way to stop you running away when the going gets tough is to block the exit. It’s the reason I’m standing in this doorway.”
“If you know that, then you’ll kindly step out of my way.” She shoved his chest, and he stepped to one side. Not because he was willing to end the conversation, but because he was worried about her.
He’d seen Fliss stressed before, but never quite like this.
“Fliss—”
“You were great back there. I’m glad you arrived when you did. Now go open champagne. Beer. Something.” She turned to walk away, and this time he closed his hand over her shoulder.
“You’re upset.”
“And this is how I handle being upset.”
“I know how you handle being upset. I know better than anyone how you push people away. Talk to me.”
“You really pick your moments.” There was a flash of anger in her eyes. Anger and something else. Panic? “Jeez, Seth, like I don’t have enough trouble coping with the present, and you choose this moment to bring up the past?”
“When your past is head-butting your present, I can’t think of a better time to talk about it.”
“Well, I can.” She stalked past him and he watched for a moment, trying to imagine Harriet wearing denim cutoffs and a tummy-revealing tank.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t know you?” His words acted like a brake.
She stopped walking and there was a sudden stillness in the air.
For a moment he thought she was going to turn and face him, but she didn’t.
“You never really knew me, Seth.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
He’d known her better than anyone.
He opened his mouth to demand an explanation, but she was already walking out of the house, Hero and Charlie at her heels.
He watched her go, feeling useless.
* * *
DAMMIT, WHAT WAS happening to her?
Her heart was racing, her mind was racing and her thoughts and emotions were a tangled web. There was Matilda, and the baby, and Seth. Always Seth.
It had been over for ten years, but he was still in her head. She’d never gotten him out of her head.
And now he knew who she really was, so there was no more pretending.
She’d have to face him soon, but it didn’t have to be now when she was at her lowest. If they were going to have the conversation he seemed to want, then she needed to be strong, and right now she didn’t feel strong.
She felt weak and vulnerable and she hated it.
Although part of her had been relieved to see him, another part of her wished he hadn’t shown up.
Why now? Why tonight? She could have handled things one at a time, but not altogether.
Her stomach churned. She felt physically sick.
She should have gone home, but she knew her grandmother would take one look at her and start asking questions, so instead she headed straight for the beach, Hero and Charlie at her heels.
Seth was right that she always ran from her emotions. Unfortunately right now it wasn’t working. Whether she walked or ran, moved left or right, her emotions came right along with her.
There was a hot ball of fire lodged in her throat, and she realized with a lurch of horror that she was going to cry.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried.
She never cried.
She had no experience in holding back tears because she’d never had to hold back tears.
She was afraid if she let them out, they’d choke her, but she couldn’t keep them in. She was going to drown, right here on the beach, not from being out of her depth in seawater but from being out of her depth in misery.
She brushed at her eyes, furious, telling herself it was sand that was making her eyes water. Sand.
She couldn’t go back to the cottage like this.
She needed to pull herself together.
But how?
She hadn’t expected to feel this way.
What was wrong with her?
If she’d been Harriet she would have been cooing over the baby, admiring tiny fingers and the unexpected shock of dark hair. But she wasn’t Harriet, and she couldn’t handle it. She couldn’t handle all the feelings that holding Matilda’s baby had unleashed. She’d looked down at that tiny bow mouth and those long lashes, at that shock of hair, and she’d felt as if someone had ripped her heart out.
She heard a strange sound and then realized it had come from her throat.
The sobs came without her permission, and she sank down on the sand, sheltered by the dunes, and cried so hard it felt as if her chest might split in two.
She sobbed for everything that might have been and hadn’t been, for the future she’d wanted so badly and lost.
Drowning in her own misery, she didn’t feel Hero nudging her, worried. But she did feel strong hands lifting her.
Seth.
He’d followed her. Well, of course, he’d followed her. He had never known when to stay away.
He lifted her as if she weighed nothing and pulled her onto his lap.
She heard the crash of the ocean and the deep, soothing murmur of his voice as he stroked her hair gently and let her cry.
She wanted to crawl away and hide, but his arms were tight bands of security. And they felt good. He felt warm and strong and comforting, so she stayed there until she’d cried herself out, her hand locked into a fist in the front of his shirt.
There was a dull ache in her head and her eyes felt swollen. She was relieved it was almost dark. “I’m sorry.”
He stirred, but he didn’t release her. “What are you sorry for?”
“For howling on you.”
“Don’t be.”
“I never cry. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.”
“Yes you do.” When she said nothing, he smoothed her hair back from her face. “I know you hide your feelings from the world, but do you hide them from yourself, too?”
“It was just the stress of it all. Matilda’s baby.”
There was a long pause, and then she felt his arms tighten around her.
“We both know this wasn’t about Matilda’s baby.” His voice was soft in the darkness. “It was about ours. Our baby.”