Harlequin Romance March 2021 Box Set Cara Colter (the mitten read aloud TXT) 📖

Donna blinked.

‘And she did good deeds. Though she refused to take any credit for it. She sounds prickly and irascible and…’ She trailed off with a shrug.

Donna’s face became larger as she leaned closer to her computer screen. ‘Callie, tell me everything.’

So Callie did.

When she was done, Donna leaned back in her chair and let out a long breath. ‘And all the letters I returned are there? She kept them? And you haven’t opened the ones addressed to you?’

‘I figured you’d kept them from me for good reason.’

‘I love you, honey, and I want to thank you for your lack of resentment towards me…’

‘No resentment—I trust you. And I love you too.’

‘But I want you to open one of those letters to me—it doesn’t matter which one—and hold it up to the screen for me to read.’

Callie did.

When she was finished, Donna blew her nose, dried her eyes and told Callie to put the letter away. ‘I should’ve forgiven her sooner. I turned her into a monster in my mind and bequeathed that resentment to you.’

‘Oh, Mum, I—’

‘No, honey, let me finish. Hearing you talk about her reminded me of the things I once loved about her—things I’d forgotten. She paid an awful price for the trust she placed in Richard and I’m sorry for that…sorry for how much he must’ve hurt her. I’m glad she had your Owen and his family to give her some comfort.’

Callie’s chest cramped. ‘He’s not my Owen. He’s a jerk. Do you know what he said? That he wouldn’t sanction any decisions I made in relation to the inheritance for the next fortnight. Talk about pompous. Not to mention controlling.’

Donna smiled. ‘Do you think I was controlling for keeping Frances’s letters from you?’

‘No! You were trying to protect me.’

‘And I suspect that’s what Owen is trying to do as well. He doesn’t want you to make a decision you’ll regret.’

Her eyes burned and her throat grew too thick for her to speak.

‘And after listening to everything you’ve just told me, I think he’s right. I think the inheritance is a gift of love. Honey, read your letters and send me mine. Then think long and hard about what will make you happy before you come to any decision.’

Callie swallowed. ‘Are you talking about the inheritance, the TV job, or Owen?’

‘All of them, darling. I suspect Owen cares about you very deeply. Don’t you? What do your instincts tell you?’

She wanted to shake off her mother’s words, but she couldn’t. She recalled with startling clarity the expression in Owen’s gaze after they’d made love—the wonder, the awe…and the hope. It was an expression that had only deepened in the days afterwards, even as their connection had deepened. Yes, Owen cared for her. He cared for her as much as she cared about him.

‘Send off your job application, because it won’t hurt to apply. You can always withdraw it if you change your mind.’ Her mother hesitated. ‘I suspect getting your own back on Dominic would feel very satisfying for a brief time, but is it worth turning your whole world on its head?’

The answer came swift and sure and had Callie sagging in her chair. No.

She was jobless, she had a ridiculously generous inheritance, and she was free to go in any direction she wanted. The only thing she had to decide was which direction to choose.

She glanced across at the drawer containing Frances’s letters. ‘We’ll talk soon, Mum.’

* * *

From his seat on the sofa Owen stared at the wall opposite as the apartment darkened around him, but he couldn’t be bothered to get up and switch on a light. The dark suited his mood.

He’d made a rookie mistake with Callie. He’d thought that just because he’d conquered the hardness inside him and was ready to embark on a new chapter, it meant Callie was ready to start something new too.

Because that was what he’d wanted to believe.

She’d told him it was too soon for her, but he’d refused to listen.

And then to storm in like some authority figure the day after their fight and tell her he wouldn’t ‘sanction’ any decision she made… What the hell had he been thinking?

He ran a hand over his face, trying to dislodge the memory from his mind, but it had been burned there. Could he have been more patronising and superior if he’d tried?

He didn’t blame Callie for not wanting to have anything to do with him. Taking her inheritance and the TV job were her decisions to make. He had no right to try to force his will on her or to take those decisions out of her hands.

His chin slumped to his chest. How could he fix this?

What he wanted to do was race upstairs, prostrate himself at her feet and beg her to forgive him. He wanted to pressure her to choose him. But in his heart of hearts he knew that wouldn’t be fair. She needed the time and space to work out what she wanted from her life without input from any man.

But the one thing he could do was apologise.

His head lifted. He could send her flowers, with a card wishing her luck with the job application and apologising for being such a jerk. He’d tell her he understood that whatever she chose to do with her inheritance was her decision and hers alone…that he’d overstepped the mark.

He swallowed.

And he’d simply sign it Love Owen, and hope she knew he meant it.

CHAPTER TWELVE

OWEN TOOK A seat in Mr Dunkley’s office and tried to shift the weight that had settled on his shoulders over the last twenty-five days. Twenty-five days since he’d spoken to Callie. Twenty-five days since he’d messed up completely and alienated her forever. Twenty-five days in which his entire world had turned dark and bleak and the sliver of hope that had taken up residence in his heart had died a slow and painful death.

He wished he’d chosen