A Valentine Kiss. Christy McKellen

about the angry person his father had been in Jordan’s youth. About the remnants of that time that had marred his relationship with his father right up to Greg’s death. And now Jordan would never get the chance to fix it, or to make up for the past year when he hadn’t been in touch...

      ‘Lulu told me about a food fair that’s happening this afternoon.’ She broke the silence. ‘It’s at the Johnson High School in town—and most of the vendors who were there for the original Under the Stars are going to be there. I’m leaving in an hour. You can come, if you like.’

      ‘I’d like that very much. I’ll go get ready,’ he said softly, grateful that she was still trying to be amicable despite his reluctance to open up to her.

      As he headed to the bathroom for a shower he thought about it. He hadn’t told her much about his childhood. Their relationship had been such a whirlwind at the beginning, and he’d fallen in love with her before he’d known what was happening. And then they’d got married, just three months after meeting—Jordan couldn’t remember ever making such an impulsive decision—and Mila had fallen pregnant a few months after that.

      Things had been so anchored in the future for them that they hadn’t considered their past. They hadn’t considered how the way they had grown up and how the people in their lives might have an impact on their relationship.

      It made him realise that there were pieces between them that had been broken long before they’d lost their child. They hadn’t even been able to share the way they’d felt about having a baby, for crying out loud! Each of them hadn’t wanted to offend the other with their real feelings. That wasn’t a healthy relationship.

      The conversation they had just had was the first open one they’d had since they’d met—at least about their pasts. Did that mean things were changing for them? Did he want them to? He couldn’t deny how being with Mila reminded him of how much he had felt for her. Maybe still felt for her...

      No! He shut that train of thought down as the water hit his body. There was no point in exploring that now. His marriage was over in every way but legally. He would just focus on the event, on helping Mila, and then on running the vineyard in a way that would have made his parents proud.

      He would focus on that, Jordan told himself when the hope inside him twinged.

      There was no point in hoping after all that had happened between them.

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      SHE NEEDED TO THINK.

      She couldn’t turn to the usual activities that helped her to do so since they all involved staying in the house with Jordan, so Mila decided to go to the place that always did.

      She grabbed her jacket and walked out into the sunshine that was growing rarer the closer it got to winter. Though the cold air reminded her of the season, it brought a beauty to the vineyard that was underappreciated. Especially from here, she thought, standing atop the slope that overlooked the vineyard, just as she had the previous day with Jordan.

      It felt as if it were a lot longer than that. So much had happened since then. She’d done a lot for the event, yes, but she had also learned a lot about herself. About how much she wanted to look worthy, and how she had sacrificed her relationships in pursuit of that. About how much what people thought about her affected her behaviour—and how she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge that to herself, or to the people who cared about her.

      Perhaps it was because there hadn’t been many people who cared about her when she was growing up. She’d had ten different foster families over her years of being in foster care, and she couldn’t remember even one of them fostering because they actually cared about the children they were looking after.

      It meant that she desperately wanted to feel loved, to feel needed. But it also meant that she didn’t know how to turn to people when she needed them. Her conversation with Lulu had shown her that those were opposing desires, since the people she wanted to feel loved and needed by needed to feel that, too. And, since she struggled to do that, she only succeeded in pushing them away. It was a vicious cycle, and if she was being honest with herself, it was another reason the loss of her baby had broken her.

      When she’d fallen pregnant so quickly, so unexpectedly, she had let herself hope for a family. She was going to have a child—someone who would need her without conditions. Someone who would know that she needed them, too, without her having to say it. That was what family was, wasn’t it?

      But she had also been scared that she wouldn’t be a good mother. And of the way having a baby would change her life. In some ways it had been a remnant of her fears about marriage. Her pregnancy seemed to have sharpened them, causing her to worry that they’d moved too fast.

      So she had clung to her job, working just as hard as she had before she’d fallen pregnant to prove to herself that things wouldn’t change that much. She’d ignored Jordan’s suggestion that she move more slowly, that she take time to adjust to the changes her body and their lives were going through.

      And then she’d fallen down the stairs and her baby had been born prematurely, only surviving for seventeen minutes in the world Mila was supposed to have prepared him for. Her mourning had been part grief at her loss, part guilt at the fact that she hadn’t slowed down. That she’d put her selfish fears first.

      And in her grief she’d realised how unimportant those fears had been. Having a family—having her son—had always been the most important. She’d pushed Jordan, Greg and Lulu away because that realisation had come too late, and she hadn’t wanted to be reminded of how stupid she’d been.

      So she’d locked her hopes for a family away, convincing herself that she could survive without one. And she would cling to that belief so no one would get hurt again because of her. It didn’t matter what Lulu said about second chances and Mila wanting more. Wanting more didn’t matter. Not any more.

      Besides, she and Jordan just weren’t right for each other. She absently rubbed at the ache that throbbed in her chest at the thought as she remembered their interaction earlier. She’d had no idea he was as affected as she was by their baby’s death, and she felt awful about it. She could still see the way the colour had leached from his face when he’d realised Lulu was pregnant, could still remember how erratic his breathing had been.

      It always gave her an objective glimpse into what other people felt when she went through her own episodes, and it wasn’t good. And, though she still felt guilt about it, knowing that he struggled, too, made her feel a little better about how she was coping. It made her feel, for the first time since her life had imploded in front of her, as if she wasn’t alone.

      But that didn’t mean anything other than shared experience, she thought firmly. She and Jordan hadn’t even shared the way they’d really felt about having a baby. And then she had told him about why she hadn’t, about why she was scared, and he had still refused to share his feelings with her. It reminded her of how little she actually knew about him...

      No, she concluded. They weren’t right for each other. And no matter what her heart said she couldn’t be with someone who didn’t want to let her in.

      ‘Going down?’ a voice asked behind her, and she turned, her heart in her throat until she realised that it was Frank, not Jordan behind her.

      ‘No.’ She smiled at him and checked her watch. ‘I have under thirty minutes before I need to leave to do some work on the event. There’s no time for me to get lost in the fields today.’

      Frank nodded and just stood behind her, and his steady presence gave her a feeling of calm.

      ‘Something’s wrong,’ Frank said, still staring out to the fields.

      She bit her lip when Frank’s lack of eye contact reminded her of how uncomfortable he was talking about anything personal, and answered him. ‘Nothing out of the ordinary.’

      Not if you counted a will forcing