Third Time's a Charm (Holland Springs #3)(83)

Growing up, she’d always believed in the magic of her mother, but after Azalea left, Rose had put away childish things. Or so she thought. There was no way her mother could know about Sasha’s offer. No one did.

Azalea nodded at the computer screen. “He’s the man in the picture?”

Rose’s eyes widened as she turned around. She’d forgotten about her ridiculous web-surfing. “I wasn’t looking for him. He kinda popped up on the screen.”

“Maybe he’s looking for you.”

“No, I made sure of that.”

“My stubborn child. That man loves you.” Her mother sounded so certain that Rose almost believed her. Almost.

Rose shook her head, then turned back to her mother. “No, he owes me.”

“What’s the harm in letting him pay you back?”

“I’m not you. I don’t use people.”

Azalea lifted a brow. “Not all of us are as strong as you, Rose. And some of us actually like men and having one around.”

The not-so-thinly veiled insult hit its mark. “I like men.” In fact she loved one and she wanted him around indefinitely, but it wasn’t meant to be. “And I respect them enough to treat them decently.” Like she had with Sasha? No, she’d let her pride get in the way. She’d let her fear color her words.

“Did you take Alexander to the spring?” A knowing look entered her mother’s eyes. “Share some strawberry wine with him…take him to your bed?”

Rose couldn’t have stopped the blush that flooded her face if she had tried. “That’s really none of your business.”

Azalea gave her a self-satisfied smile and reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “Let’s not fight, honey. One day you can introduce me to your man and I can give you some pointers.”

It was then Rose realized what a blessing in disguise it had been for her mother to leave. For all the good that her mother had done today, she was still selfish and self-centered. Women around here might have had a good reason not to like her family after all.

Still, this wasn’t the reunion she’d dreamed of. Her mother wouldn’t be in her life, not in the way she’d always hoped.

“I look forward to doing business with you, Barbara.” Rose managed to shake her mother’s hand and slip it out of her gasp.

Her mother’s face transformed into a cool business woman. “As do I, Ms. Holland.” Walking out the door, Azalea tossed over her shoulder, “There’s someone waiting out here for you.”

A familiar black streak of fur raced inside and jumped up into Rose’s arms. “Blackbeard, you bad kitty, where have you been?”

The cat meowed, then began purring.

“I missed you, too.” She buried her face in the cat’s fur.





Chapter Twenty-Five





After consulting world-renowned experts and all of them coming to the same consensus that no brain activity had been present for the past three weeks, Sasha had made the gut-wrenching decision to take his mother off of life-support.

Each one had assured him that he was doing the right thing. However, the right thing never turned out to be the easiest thing.

She’d taken her last breath in his arms, a shuddering sigh that racked her frail body. He remembered telling his mum that he loved her. Then silence; not even the machines dared to make a noise. Sasha had held her until the doctor on call had come to the room and given the time of death for the nurse to record.

He’d buried Phoebe beside his dad, as they had wanted. Christian and Sebastian had attended, the strain between them obvious but not overwhelming. Sasha ‘had felt a sort of melancholy mood invade his body during the ceremony, but he’d had three weeks with his mum.

Every day he’d visited her. Some days he’d talk for hours, reading from their favorite fashion magazines on his tablet. Other days, he was content to sit in silence or listen to her playlist on his iPod, relieved to be able to simply be with her. Free from worry. From responsibility.

Sublimely free.

It was everything he’d wanted. Everything he’d thought he needed. The freedom to come and go as he pleased. No more looking over his shoulder. No more getting the living hell beat out of him. No more waiting for the other shoe to drop and watch his uncle play God with Phoebe’s life.

His mother was at peace, and he could imagine that his father was at peace as well. That they were waltzing around Heaven, fantastically happy to be together again. A part of him was happy for them as well.

But as he sat in his favorite pub and drank his favorite ale, all he could think of was Rose. What she was doing. Thinking. Who she might be seeing.

A couple of men booed as their rugby team took another hit. In the corner a couple held hands and snogged.

Sasha took another pull of his beer and grimaced. He knew without a doubt who’d want to be snogging Rose: Gabriel Edwards. The bloody sod. Though to be fair, Edwards was a decent fellow. He was someone that would be good for Rose—boring, but good—and he’d keep her safe from men like Jason. Men like Sasha.

He scratched his jaw. He had no idea what the two of them would talk about. Edwards was as quiet as Rose. She needed someone a bit more social, a bit more charming. A bit more of himself.

“Delusions of grandeur, mate,” he mumbled. Rose had made it perfectly clear that she didn’t need him. No, her traditions, her small town and her store were what she needed. What she preferred over him.