Summer on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #6)(89)

To her credit, Gail didn’t mention Phoebe’s name again, and neither did he. Every now and then he caught his assistant watching him, looking for any telltale sign. What she hoped to f ind, he didn’t know. Perhaps Gail expected to uncover some crack in his resolve, some indication that he was weakening. But if anything, Hutch grew more convinced that he simply wasn’t cut out for love or marriage. He’d laid his heart on the line and Phoebe had ripped it to shreds without cause or provocation. If this was love, then he wanted no part of it. He had a good life, albeit a lonely one, but he was used to that. As for children, he had his niece and nephew and God willing, eventually one of them, or both, would take over the family business. Otherwise he’d sell out, which he might have to do anyway, depending on the outcome of the court case. Friday afternoon, f ive days after that last conversation with Phoebe, Hutch left the off ice even later than usual. It was mid-August now, and in his opinion no place on earth was more beautiful than the Pacif ic Northwest on a hot summer’s day when the sky was blue and Mount Rainier glimmered like an apparition in the distance.

It was almost nine, but there was still plenty of sunshine. He was walking toward his parking space when he saw her. Phoebe.

She stood next to his car, waiting for him. Hutch stopped and instantly squelched the surge of joy he felt at seeing her. He wouldn’t allow her to toy with his feelings. Not again. Apparently this was some game to her. A game he wasn’t willing to play.

He strode decisively to his car, each step f illed with purpose.

“Hello, Hutch,” she said.

He didn’t respond.

“I can’t do it,” she whispered brokenly. “I tried, but I can’t do it.”

He held his briefcase with both hands and just stared at her. He supposed she expected him to ask her questions or show how grateful he was to see her. He wouldn’t do either. She frowned. “Say something,” she pleaded.

He shrugged. “What do you want me to say?”

She looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears. “You might tell me you…that you missed me.”

He pressed his lips together, refusing to tell her any of that even if it was true.

She raised her hand as though to touch his face. Hutch retreated a step.

She covered her mouth with one hand and began to sob. His resolve f inally faltered but he wouldn’t let himself succumb to her tears, although it was impossible to remain stoic and indifferent to her pain.

“The thing is, I’ve discovered I can do it, Phoebe.” He reached for his door handle. “I can live without you.”

“There’s something you don’t know.”

He stiffened, his back to her.

“Clark Snowden…”

At the mention of the plaintiff ’s attorney, he turned to face her. “What about him?”

“He was…he was my f iancé.”

The words slammed into him with a force that was actually physical. He couldn’t have spoken had his life depended on it.

“I knew if Clark found out you’re the man I love, he’d do everything in his power to hurt you. I—I thought the only way to protect you was to break off our relationship…but I can’t do it. I tried and I just can’t. I’m too self ish and needy, Hutch, and I love you too much.”

His briefcase fell to the pavement as he hauled her into his arms, holding on as if they’d both perish otherwise.

“You should have told me.” His need for her was an ache that shot through him, that burned within him.

“I couldn’t…. I was afraid.”

Then they were kissing, straining against each other, trying to undo f ive days apart, f ive days of agony. Hutch tasted her salty tears and kissed them from her cheeks.

“What are we going to do?” she whispered, clinging to him.

“Clark will try to destroy you…to ruin the business and discredit you. I can’t stand by and let him.”

“I know exactly what I’m going to do,” he said. “It’s simple. I’m going to win this lawsuit and then I’m going to marry you, if you’ll agree.”

He’d half lifted her from the pavement and with her arms around his neck, Phoebe sobbed her answer. “Yes, yes! Oh, Hutch, yes! I want to marry you more than anything in the world. I want to spend my life with you.”

That was good to hear, because he wanted her with him for the rest of his, too. Nothing mattered but loving Phoebe. Snowden could do whatever he would; it made no difference to Hutch as long as he had Phoebe.

Chapter 32

Anne Marie Roche

Tim walked out to the curb to meet Anne Marie and Ellen as she parked her car outside his parents’ house. Vanessa stood on the porch, waiting, making sure Anne Marie knew she was watching every move.

This had been Tim’s idea, bringing Ellen over to meet his parents. The f irst time, it would be just his mother and father; later he planned to introduce her to his siblings. Ellen needed to feel comfortable with Vanessa, too. Anne Marie hoped the air had been cleared, that there wouldn’t be any problems between her and the other woman. Maybe Vanessa needed further reassurance that she had no designs on Tim. Ever eager to see her father, Ellen unfastened her seat belt and hurtled out of the car and to his side. Without a pause, she threw her arms around his middle, then immediately asked, “Did you bring your motorcycle?”