Mountain Charm Page 16

  “It’s an amazing opportunity, and I appreciate the offer. When would you need my decision?”

  “Well, I was hoping you’d decide today. If it’s such an amazing opportunity, why wait?”

  “Because I’d like to discuss it with Angelina.”

  Charles leaned back in his chair and appraised his son. “I assume Angelina is the beautiful, kind-hearted woman?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And you need her permission to accept a job offer?”

  Dylan took a deep breath. Try to keep your temper under control.

  “It’s not about permission. When you love someone, you should make important decisions together.”

  Charles smiled ruefully. “That’s good advice. Maybe that’s why I’ve been married—and divorced—three times.”

  Maybe so.

  “Still, you’re awfully young to be so serious about one woman, aren’t you? I’d hate to see you lose focus of your career—”

  “Trust me. My focus is exactly where it should be.”

  An awkward silence filled the air until Charles finally cleared his throat.

  “We’d like to hire someone within the next two weeks.”

  “No problem. I’ll contact you as soon as possible.”

  With business out of the way, Dylan knew he had two choices. He could walk right out the door, or he could attempt to have a conversation with his father. He could ask the questions that had haunted him for years, and maybe—just maybe—his dad would answer them.

  “Why did you leave?”

  Charles’s eyes widened. “You cut right to the chase, don’t you?”

  “When I want answers, yes.”

  “That’s what makes you a good reporter. Just like your old man,” his father said, his eyes twinkling with pride.

  “That’s where our similarities end.”

  Dylan watched as his dad’s face flashed with sadness and regret.

  “I wasn’t a good husband, Dylan. I worked too many long hours and neglected your mother for years. When she told me she was pregnant, I honestly didn’t believe you were mine because I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had sex. That’s how neglectful I was.”

  Rising from his chair, Charles walked toward the window and adjusted the blinds before gazing out into the sunshine.

  “Writing was all I wanted to do. Freelance is a great place to start in this business—if you’re single and don’t mind starving to death. But when you have a wife and child depending on you, writing for pennies isn’t the most financially viable option. Along with writing, I worked second and third jobs, and I was grateful to have a place to go because home was a war zone. Your mother and I argued constantly. Patti wanted me to find a stable job. She wanted me home more. She wanted a marriage. She wanted me to be a father to you. But I was young and selfish. Nothing was more important to me than becoming a writer.”

  “Not even your wife?”

  “Not even my wife. Not even my son.”

  Anger churned in Dylan’s stomach.

  “When she asked for a divorce, I felt as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I know that must sound horrible, coming from your father, but it’s the truth. I wasn’t a good husband. I was a worse father. But I was a great writer. I justified it in my head, telling myself that when I became successful, I’d go back and be the father you needed me to be. But it took nearly a decade to establish myself in publishing. By that time you were a teenager, and I knew you hated me. Why wouldn’t you? Through friends, I’d kept tabs on your mother, and I knew she was now a college professor. You were both doing just fine without me. Staying away was the very best thing I could do for you.”

  Dylan scrutinized his father as he returned to his chair. His dad had become a successful newspaper publisher while he and his mom had struggled to make ends meet for years. Charles Thomas was, without a doubt, the most selfish person Dylan had ever met. Bile rose in this throat as he considered actually working for the man, and if Dylan had been a single man, he would have told his father to kiss his ass.

  But he wasn’t a single man—not in his heart, anyway.

  “Why are you reaching out to me now?”

  “I read one of your articles in the magazine. I thought the name was just a coincidence, but I did some digging and found out that you were, indeed, my son. I’ve . . . sort of followed your career ever since. I was finally in a position to help you, so I called your mother. She told me to go to hell.”

  Dylan smiled proudly.

  “But I’m a persistent bastard, and I kept calling. All I wanted was the chance to talk to you and maybe help with your career, if you’d let me.”

  “She told me you’d called.”

  “I know. When I called back, she admitted you’d lost your job and your heart was set on working in this area. That’s when I had Beth offer you the freelance position. It would get you established with our newspaper, at least, until something better opened up. When our Friday columnist decided to retire, I knew it was the perfect opportunity for you. Yes, you’re my son, and yes, I’m trying to make amends, but I wouldn’t offer you this job if I didn’t think you were qualified for it. My newspaper’s reputation is far too important to me.”

  “Shrewd boss. Shitty father.”

  Charles wasn’t offended in the least. “I can’t argue with either of those points. But I’d like the chance to be a better father, if you’d let me.”

  Dylan’s first inclination was to tell him that he’d done just fine without a father for twenty years and he didn’t need one now. But then he thought of Angelina and how she’d give anything to spend just one more day with her dad.

  “I’m going to need to think about that.”

  Charles nodded. “I understand.”

  Dylan rose to his feet, and his father followed him to the door.

  “I’ll let you know about the job as soon as possible. Thank you for the opportunity.”

  Determined to be polite, Dylan extended his hand.

  “My pleasure,” Charles said, gripping his son’s hand. “And thank you . . . for the opportunity.”

  “It was good to see Celia eat tonight.”

  Angelina and Dylan were snuggled under her blanket in her bed. It was after midnight, and her mom was sleeping peacefully down the hall.

  “It was,” she agreed, nuzzling his chest. “Her appetite is slowly coming back.”

  Dylan slid his fingers along her spine. “Is your mom a light sleeper?”

  “Not usually, why?”

  His fingers drifted lower, causing Angelina to tremble. “I missed you today, baby.”

  “I missed you, too, but we are not having sex in my mother’s house.”

  “Never?”

  “Not while she’s home, no.”

  He pretended to pout, and Angelina laughed, kissing him gently.

  “Besides, you’re stalling. I want to hear about your conversation with your father.”

  Dylan sighed and stared up at the ceiling.

  “It’s a good offer, and I think I’m going to accept it, even if the sight of the man makes me sick. I won’t have to report to him, so that’s a plus.”

  “If you hate him so much, maybe working for him isn’t the best idea. There are other jobs.”

  “Not with these benefits.”

  Dylan told her about the outrageous salary and bonuses, and her eyes widened.

  “Wow. Maybe I should write for a living.”

  Dylan shook his head. “That’s not typical for a newspaper columnist. Trust me. Nepotism and paternal guilt are definitely at work here.”

  “Well, I’m proud of you for even talking to him and keeping your temper in check. I know that must have been hard.”

  “You’re just glad you didn’t get a call from the Knoxville PD.”

  “I am glad. I was kind of expecting one.”

  They both laughed.

  “Can I ask a question?” she asked, and he nodded. “If you hate him so much, and if
you know the offer is ridiculous, why are you considering it?”

  His arms tightened around her.

  “Let me just say upfront this is a fight you won’t win.”

  Angelina’s eyes narrowed. “Why would we fight?”

  “Because you’re stubborn and proud and . . .”

  He continued to babble, and it didn’t take her long to figure it out. Angelina raised herself up on her elbow and gave him an annoyed glare.

  “Dylan Thomas, you’d better not be taking this job for me.”

  “I’m taking this job for us. I’m taking this job because it really is the perfect scenario. I can work in Knoxville and live in Maple Ridge. I can be with you, which is what I want. I’m serious when I say I love you and that I want to marry you. And I know you aren’t ready to discuss it, but you need to know that’s how I feel. I’m never going to want anyone else, and it’s time you accepted it. I want to build a life with you. Building a life takes a steady income, and this job offers that.”

  Her eyes softened. “And all of that is wonderful, and I want it, too, but that’s not the only reason you’re taking this job.”

  Dylan sighed and pulled her close, pressing his lips against her cheek.

  “No, it’s not the only reason. I’m taking this job because the salary is insane. There’s even a moving bonus. From the day I sign my contract, I can help you with Celia’s medical bills, and you’ll never have to sell your shop.”

  Angelina tried to keep her tears at bay.

  “But . . . you hate your dad.”

  “And that may never change. I’ve always heard love is stronger than hate, and I never really understood what that meant, but I do now. I love you more than I could ever hate him, and that’s why I’m accepting his job offer.”

  Through her tears, Angelina gazed into his eyes, and she was overwhelmed by the emotion she saw reflected in them.

  In that moment, everything was crystal clear.

  Magic was an amazing force that could forever change your life.

  It could hurt.

  It could heal.

  There will be healing.

  “You really love me.”

  Dylan smiled and stroked her cheek. “Are you just now realizing that?”

  It wasn’t as if she had ever doubted his words. She’d just refused to truly embrace them, fearing that his every thought and emotion was being manipulated by the spell. But to accept a job he really didn’t want, just to take care of her family and to build a life together . . .

  Tonight, she finally believed him.

  “I love you, too,” Angelina said softly.

  Later, after Dylan had fallen asleep, Angelina crept out of bed and carefully opened her bedroom door. She walked down the hallway and headed straight to her mom’s room.

  She wasn’t surprised to find Celia sitting up against the headboard. Angelina smiled and pulled a seat closer to her mom’s bedside. Mother and daughter linked hands, and Angelina noticed that hers weren’t the only pair of blue eyes filled with tears.

  “You understand now, don’t you?”

  Angelina nodded. “The spell brought us together, but love keeps him here.”

  Celia smiled. “That’s right.”

  “You knew all along, didn’t you?”

  Her mother didn’t bother denying it.

  “There will be a reunion between father and son,” Celia whispered, giving her daughter’s hand a squeeze. “There will be a beautiful wedding at the pond, and there will be a granddaughter with lovely blue eyes who will blow out her own candle when she turns thirteen.”

  Angelina smiled brightly. “And what about you?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Celia murmured. “I won’t miss a single second of any of it.”

  Angelina didn’t know when it happened, but as she gazed across the pond, she couldn’t deny the evidence.

  Fall had arrived in Maple Ridge.

  The mountains were blanketed in shades of crimson and gold. It was her favorite time of year, because there were few things more beautiful than a Smoky Mountain autumn.

  It had been nearly two months since Maddie’s wedding. She and Nick were happy and content in their little house in Atlanta, and Angelina had already made plans to visit them later in the fall.

  Celia’s weekly chemo treatments had resumed. The nausea was still crippling at times, and her hair was nearly gone. Thanks to sweet neighbors and friends, Celia now had an assorted collection of colorful scarves and pretty hats. David Murray was always by her side, and Angelina couldn’t help but be grateful that her mom had such a supportive and devoted companion.

  In two weeks, they would find out if the chemo was doing its job.

  Dylan had started working at his father’s newspaper. His relationship with his dad was still strained, but Charles had kept his promise, and he’d had very little interaction with his son. Dylan enjoyed writing, and his article about the soldier returning home from Afghanistan had made the front page.

  As for Angelina, the shop was busier than ever. She had hired Kelsey, a local singer who was studying music education at UT, to work part-time at the store. Angelina knew she would eventually need to find a new business partner, but for now, she and Kelsey were handling things just fine.

  True to his word—and despite her arguments—Dylan had deposited his signing bonus into her savings account. The amount was obscene, but it was more than enough to cover Celia’s medical expenses for the time being. Angelina worried about the future, but Dylan promised they would deal with whatever, whenever it came.

  Which was good, because his mother was coming to Maple Ridge.

  Today.

  Angelina had been thrilled when Dylan had mentioned that his mom was eager to meet her. Her momentary excitement had swiftly turned to panic when she realized he meant this weekend. She had never officially met a boyfriend’s mother, and Angelina couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t prepared at all.

  Sighing deeply, Angelina pulled her knees close to her chest and closed her eyes as the soft autumn breeze wafted across her face. It was always chillier next to the water, but the fall temperatures made it even colder.

  “Should have brought a sweater,” she muttered.

  As soon as the words escaped her lips, she felt the warmth of his body as he settled behind her. Angelina smiled as a pair of strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close to his chest.

  “You’re early,” Angelina said quietly. “Is she here?”

  “Yeah, she’s up at the house with your mom. They’re already best friends.”

  Angelina laughed.

  “We’ll give them a few minutes,” he said, kissing the side of her neck. “Are you cold, baby?”

  “A little.”

  He snuggled her close.

  “It’s so pretty out here in the fall. I knew it would be.”

  Angelina grinned. “You don’t have trees in Nashville?”

  “Not like these.”

  She sighed and leaned her head back against his shoulder. “What if she hates me?”

  “You can’t seriously be worried about that.”

  Angelina shrugged.

  “Baby, she will love you. Not as much as I do, but it’ll be close.”

  “Does she know . . . everything?”

  “She knows you waved your magic wand and put a spell on me, yes.”

  “I don’t have a wand,” Angelina grumbled.

  Dylan chuckled. “It doesn’t matter what she thinks. It doesn’t matter how she feels. I love you. I want to marry you. I want you to have my babies, and I pray they have your pretty blue eyes and my charming personality.”

  It wasn’t the first time he’d said he wanted to marry her, but it was the first time he had mentioned kids.

  Should she tell him about the blue-eyed daughter her mom had already prophesied?

  Probably not.

  Instead, she twisted around, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  “That’s what I want, to
o.”

  A slow grin crept across his face. “You do?”

  “I do.”

  Something flashed in his eyes, and Angelina could feel the excitement radiating from him as he pulled her face close to his.

  “Marry me.”

  Angelina giggled. “You’re so impatient.”

  He grinned and kissed her softly.

  “Now marry me.”

  She smiled. “I think I need to meet your mom first, don’t you?”

  Dylan sighed and pressed his forehead to hers.

  “Soon. Promise me.”

  Angelina gently placed her hand against his cheek.

  “Soon, I promise.”

  Any nervousness that Angelina felt about meeting Patti Thomas completely vanished when she and Dylan walked into the living room. She was sitting next to Celia, and when Patti’s eyes settled on Angelina, she immediately leapt from the couch and wrapped the young woman in her arms.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Angelina.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

  Patti pulled Angelina by the hand and led her to the couch. Dylan took a seat in the corner and watched the three most important women in his life talk as if they had been friends forever. At one point, Angelina’s eyes found his, and he winked—his silent way of saying I told you so. Angelina just smiled at him before resuming her conversation with his mother.

  After a while, Dylan offered to make dinner for everyone. He was getting pretty good at spaghetti and meatballs, and it was the one food that, unbelievably, Celia was able to keep down. He was just starting the sauce when she walked into the room.

  “Afraid I’ll burn down your kitchen?” Dylan teased.

  Celia laughed and sat down at the table. “I just wanted to give the two of them the chance to get to know each other. Besides, you and I need to have a talk of our own.”

  Dylan grinned and put the sauce on to simmer before joining Celia at the table. She reached for his hand, and he was happy to feel the warmth of her skin. She’d been cold and pale for so long.

  “I haven’t had the chance to thank you.”

  He’d been expecting this. What he hadn’t expected was the emotion in her soft voice.

  “You don’t have to thank me, Celia.”

  “That’s not true. Random acts of selfless love aren’t common in this world. When you’re the recipient of such a gift, you should thank the giver. You have taken a burden off my daughter’s shoulders—a burden that shouldn’t be hers—and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. There’s no way I could ever repay you.”