“As far as she knew, she didn’t have one, and she’s not old enough to question that unless someone gave her reason to.” Wesley looked distraught at the possibility of not even having been a blip on her radar, so Michael added, “She would have one day, though.” Of that, he was certain, whether or not Bex had wanted to admit it to herself.
“Do you think she’ll like me?”
If his brother behaved this way in any other scenario, Michael might have laughed, but he couldn’t bring himself to appreciate the humor in a big politician sweating over the opinion of a pint-sized girl.
“I have no idea, Wes. Just be yourself and try to relax. Kids pick up on tension.”
“Oh, great.” Wesley snatched a glass of water from the table. Michael had confiscated the coffee after he’d been ready to pour his fourth serving. “I know nothing about kids. I don’t even remember the last time I held a baby. She’s going to see right through me. I’m going to screw this up exactly the way Mum thinks I will.”
Michael frowned. “She said that?”
He’d thought Wesley was the golden son. Unable to do wrong in their parents’ eyes.
“She called last night. Told me it wasn’t too late to change my mind and pretend none of this had ever happened. That I don’t have it in me to be a father.”
“Screw that. What did you say to her?”
“That I don’t care what she thinks of my plan. It’s going ahead anyway.”
Michael snorted. “Bet she loved that.”
Wesley rubbed his temples. “She might not be wrong though. About me.”
Michael stood, impatient for Wesley to leave. He hated having to be his brother’s support crew when the guy was about to be alone with his girls. The entire situation stank, and although he knew Bex was nothing like Penelope, she had loved Wesley once, and a voice in his mind whispered that if his brother played his cards right, she’d see what a perfect ready-made family they could be. Even if she wasn’t interested in Wesley herself, she might not want to deprive Izzy of the opportunity to be part of a more traditional family unit, and then Michael would be on the outside, looking in. He’d been there once, and had no desire to repeat the experience.
“Look, Wes. I can’t promise this will go well. Izzy is opinionated and stubborn, but she’s also sweet and funny, so pull yourself together and show her that you’re worth caring about.”
Wesley placed his glass back on the table. “How do I do that?”
Michael shrugged. “That’s for you to figure out. You’ll have a different type of connection to her than I do.” He clapped his brother on the shoulder, bid him farewell, and went to collect his cycling gear. He needed to clear his head.
Bex spottedWesley the moment they arrived at the beach. They’d arranged to meet behind the pavilion that housed The Shack and Sailor’s Retreat, and he stood alone on the edge of the bustle, a beanie pulled low over his ears as though he didn’t want to be recognized. From the curious glances people sent his way, he was failing to fit in.
At her side, Izzy stopped walking, staring at the lone figure. “Mummy, I wanna go home.”
“We can go home afterward, darling. If you decide you don’t like Wesley, that’s okay. Just give him a chance.”
He turned in their direction and waved. Izzy grabbed Bex’s hand and squeezed with all her might. Bex’s heart ached for her daughter. She wished she could spare her from hurt and confusion, but Michael was right, she couldn’t avoid this forever.
“Tell you what,” she continued as Wesley made his way toward them. “How about we go for ice cream after? You can get your favorite.”
“Okay.” Even the bribe didn’t ease the frown that marred Izzy’s forehead.
Bex bent and dropped a kiss on her nose. “It’ll be ice cream time before you know it.”
“Hello.” Wesley joined them, his shoulders hunched against the cold sea breeze. “You must be Izzy.” He stooped to her height and held out a hand, which she steadfastly ignored.
“Isobel Cane, don’t be rude,” Bex admonished.
“It’s all right.” He withdrew the hand and smiled, but Izzy turned away. “I’m Wesley. It’s nice to meet you.”
Relief filled Bex. Thank goodness he hadn’t tried to introduce himself as “Dad.” She could only imagine how that would’ve gone.
“What do you say, Iz?” she prompted.
Izzy mumbled something along the lines of “yeah, you too” and kicked the sand. Frustration tightened Bex’s muscles, but she couldn’t direct it at her daughter because this situation washerfault. She was the one who’d dropped a bombshell less than an hour earlier. She only had herself to blame.
“I’m sorry,” she said to Wesley. “We just had a talk about you before we came, and she didn’t take it well.”