by Peggy Jaeger
A tiny spark of anger wormed its way through me. “That’s insulting.”
“I don’t mean it to be.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry if it sounded that way.” He raked his fingers down his face and blew out a breath. “Just…ignore me.”
Not in this lifetime or any other.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. Like I said, it’s been a morning.”
“Look,” I said, the anger dissipating, “I love my inn. Love running it and catering to my guests. And yes, every now and again I get an obnoxious one I can’t please for trying. But every other time I get real joy in doing what I do. When Eileen first came up with the idea for us to own and operate the inn, I’ll admit, I was scared. But her fearlessness, her absolute belief it was the perfect thing for us convinced me it was. And I’ve never regretted my decision.”
He nodded.
“Even this expansion was something she’d planned before she got sick. She knew in her heart the inn was going to be a success, and she had big ideas to make it grander.” I snuck another look at my watch. “And on that note, I’ve gotta go. I don’t want to keep Boyd waiting, especially since he’s charging me by the hour.” I opened the car door.
Before I could get in, Lucas grabbed my arm. “Mo, wait.”
I stayed standing, my free hand resting on the door ledge. The difference in our height was never so profound as when we stood close together. I barely came to his shoulders, and since I never wore heels, I was forced to crane my neck to keep looking at his face. “What’s wrong?”
“What do you know about this guy?”
Puzzled by the question, I said, “Other than the fact he comes highly recommended as a commercial architect, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
I shrugged. “He arrived a few months ago, he’s single, seems like he knows what he’s doing design-wise, and he sounds like he and Nanny came from the same hometown in Ireland when he opens his mouth. Other than that, not much. Why?”
“He seemed pretty…interested, in you last week.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s interested in my bungalows. It’s a big project for him, and I imagine he wants it to go well.”
“Not buying it, Mo. Guy looked like he was dying for a drink and you were a long, tall glass of ice-cold water. He wanted to slake his thirst with you.”
I laughed loud and freely right at his face.
A face that went through a jumble of expressions when I did. From cocky, to confused, to finally settling on borderline annoyed. “What’s so funny?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been referred to as thirst quenching before. I can’t decide if I hate it or like it.”
“You know what I’m saying, Maureen.”
“No, I really don’t.” I tried to pull out of his hold.
He held on fast. “I watched his face when he was with you. The guy is into you, not your bungalow project.”
I shrugged. “Okay. So what if he is?”
“What do mean, so? Did he ask you out?”
“What if he did?”
“And are you going?”
I wasn’t, but he didn’t need to know that. “What business is it of yours if I do?”
“You’ve just admitted you really don’t know anything about him.”
“Which is the purpose of going on a date with someone. To get to know them.”
“So you are gonna go out with him.” It sounded like an accusation.
“Again, so what if I do? What are you so concerned about?”
“So many things it would make your head spin, but first and foremost, he’s a stranger.”
“So is every guest who stays at my inn when they check in.”
“That’s different.”
“I can’t see it is.”
“You don’t make a habit of dating your guests.”
He had me there. “But he’s not a guest, so your point is moot.”
He leveled that piercing glare at me I knew made people squirm in their seats. Chin dropped, head cocked, eyes focused and dripping with power and intent. If I didn’t know him, I’d probably pee in my pants if he trained it on me.
But I did know him, and I was confused about what was going on.
“You might want to consider the fact that he’s got no family here, no one to vouch for him except his boss. He’s from another country.”
“So was Nanny when she first got here.”
“Yeah, a hundred years ago—”
“Don’t ever let her hear you say that.”
“—not a few months ago. He could have a criminal record or be a serial murderer for all you know, with a wake of dead women in his past.”
I stood, rooted, gaping at him. “Oh, my God, listen to yourself. You realize you sound nuts, right?”
“What I sound is concerned for your welfare, Maureen. I care about you and don’t want to see anything happen to you. You don’t know what this guy’s motives or intentions are.”
“His intention is to design the bungalows I asked for, Lucas. That’s it.”
“Maybe that’s his in.”
“His what? You’re making absolutely no sense. What the hell is an ‘in’?”
“I’m making perfect sense only you’re not seeing it. You’re a woman living all alone in a big house—”
“I don’t live in a house all alone. You make it sound like I’m in a shack in the middle of the woods with no one within five miles to hear me if I scream. I live in an inn, surrounded by people all the time. People who work and sleep there. What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing is wrong with me, and you still haven’t answered my question—”
“I don’t even know what it was anymore because you’ve gone off the rails talking about serial murderers.”
The deep, jagged breath he pulled in was all the indication I needed to know about his level of frustration. Through lips barely parted, he ground out, “I want to know. Are. You. Going. To. Go. Out. With. Him?”
For the second time in my life, I was witness to Lucas raising his voice. The first time I’d been concerned. This time, though, concern gave way to aggravation. I tugged on my arm harder, jerking it back until he let it go. “And I want to know what business is it of yours who I go out with? I’m thirty-two years old Lucas, not fifteen, and you’re not my father or my big brother or my boyfriend. I’m not some innocent little girl who’s been locked away in a tower. I’ve been out with men on dates before, and yes, even men I didn’t know well. Hell, I even lived with a man for two years who I’d hoped to marry until he showed me who he really was.”
His face went white.
“Now I get we’ve been friends forever and up in each other’s lives and business, but there’s a line with any friendship and you’re dangerously close to crossing it. I don’t ask you who you’re seeing or dating—”
“No one.”
“—because it’s none of my business. I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but you’ve been acting hinky lately, and until a minute ago, I was worried you were going through some kind of mental stress or close to a breakdown. Your father is living with you and making your life miserable; your son is caught in the crosshairs between the two of you; work stress. Whatever it is, you’re not acting like yourself, and I’ve been worried. But right now I’m more pissed than worried, so before I say something I’m gonna regret or you say anything else that makes me even madder, I’m leaving.” Before I slammed the car door behind me once I was seated, I added, “I’ll see you when you pick up Robert.”
I snapped into my seatbelt, put the car in gear, and took one last look at him.
He was still standing next to his squad car with his hands balled at his sides, and the shocked expression on his wide-eyed face would have struck me as comical if I wasn’t so angry.
I backed up and pulled out of the parking lot.
Lucas never moved from his spot.
Chapter 6
Speeding when you’re late for an appointment is one
thing. Putting the pedal to the metal when you’re pissed off is quite another, so when I almost blew the same stop sign my grandmother had a few months back, ending in her T-boning another car, I took a deep breath, relaxed my shoulders, and eased up on the gas.
What the actual hell?
Never once in all the years I’d known Lucas Alexander had he acted or spoken the way he just had. Domineering; overbearing; crazy.
I could count on the fingers of one hand the times I’d actually been mad at him and still have fingers left over.
It wasn’t any of his business if I went out for drinks or dinner or anything else with Donovan Boyd or any other man. In the truest sense of the phrase, I was a free agent. And likely to remain that way since the man I was currently furious with was the one who held my heart and didn’t even know it.
As I stopped at a traffic light, I took another deep breath. Two things Lucas had said kept repeating in my head. One, he’d stated he cared about me and didn’t want to see me get hurt. As a longtime friend, I knew his statement was true on face value. How I wish it went deeper though and he’d been admitting he cared about me in more than a friendly fashion.
The second thing was he’d said he wasn’t seeing or dating anyone.
Even though I found it hard to imagine, it thrilled me he wasn’t involved. In my own warped way, the old “if I couldn’t have him, no one could” declaration shot through me.
After his divorce, gossip had run rampant among the town busybodies the reason for the split had been infidelity on Lucas’s part. While the cause of the breakup had been cheating, it hadn’t been Lucas who’d broken his wedding vows. Being chief of police was a taxing, never-ending job, and Nora Alexander had made known her displeasure about all the time she spent with only their son for company. Often and loudly to anyone who would listen. She’d threatened she was going to leave him several times if he didn’t resign and get a “normal job” where they could spend time together as a couple and a family.
A moral obligation gene ran deep through Lucas, though, and he’d made a promise to the community he’d been raised in to do the job to his utmost.
Nora had no such gene floating in her DNA, and when Lucas had refused to quit, she finally made good on her warning and had taken a lover.
And then another.
After two years of trying to avoid the whispers about his wife’s extramarital activities, Lucas had finally had enough. He’d filed for divorce, and she’d gladly signed the papers. Due to his erratic hours, Nora had been given sole custody of eleven-year-old Robert, but in one moment of genuine goodness, she’d declined it, opting instead for shared custody.
Once he was a free man, the single women in the area had descended on Lucas, to hear Cathy tell the tale. Olivia Joyner, the town matchmaker, had even tried to fix him up with one of her single-and-lookings. There had never been a hint of scandal or gossip about anyone else in his life, but I never imagined it meant he was sitting home alone at night. I’d figured after the public shame he’d already suffered from his wife, he’d taken steps to ensure whoever he was dating was kept under wraps.
I couldn’t blame him. Wagging tongues, judgmental rumors, and nasty gossip was the life’s blood of a small town. I know, since I’ve lived here my entire life and have heard more of it than I ever care to hear again, so I’d assumed Lucas kept the women he’d dated out of the spotlight.
When he’d said, without hesitation, he wasn’t dating anyone, I admit, I was shocked. Pleased more than I should be, but surprised nonetheless.
Why wasn’t he? I was dying to know the answer, but the only person I could ask who might have an inkling was my oldest sister. I was loath to bring up the subject of Lucas’s love life with her because I knew without a doubt she’d read into—correctly—why I wanted to know. My feelings for Lucas had been speculated upon by my sisters more than once over the years.
When I was a teenager, they’d teased me about how I went uber quiet whenever he was around and snuck worshipful glances—Colleen’s description—at him. Even before Robert had started working for me, my sisters had commented on the number of times Lucas dropped by the inn to grab a quick dinner of leftovers or have a cup of coffee before he headed home. I’d never given them any reason to suspect how deeply I was in love with him, but they were both extremely astute women.
When I pulled into the inn, I spotted a familiar car in one of the private spaces I kept for family. The sound of laughter rang out from my kitchen.
“How come I didn’t know we were having a party?” I said when I came into the room.
My sisters were sitting at my table, each with a cup in front of them, the tin of insomnia cookies opened and on the table between them. Robert was at the sink, washing dishes, as Sarah pulled something from the oven.
“Where have you been?” Cathy had one of Colleen’s swollen feet in her lap and was massaging it.
“I had an errand to run,” I said, sneaking a side-glance at Robert’s back. “Why are you two here?”
“I wanted to check to see if everything was set for Friday’s event,” Colleen said.
“You couldn’t just call? Or send Charity? Slade specifically said he doesn’t want you driving alone at this phase.”
“He’s not the boss of me.” She pouted, then reached into the jar and brought out two more cookies. “He’s treating me like I’m the first woman ever to have a baby. I’m pregnant, not infirm or useless. And I’ve got a business to run.”
“He’s worried about you, sis. This is your first baby. His too. He gets to be overprotective if he wants.”
“Says who? I’m the one carrying around a basketball the size of Montana in my body, not him.”
“It says so in the marriage rules,” I told her. “First-time fathers are allowed to be a little overbearing and overprotective of their pregnant spouses.”
The pout morphed to a tiny grin. “I must have missed that chapter.”
“Most likely wasn’t listed in your Cliff Notes edition.”
“Must be. Besides, Cathy drove. I merely thumbed a ride and rode shotgun when she said she was headed here.”
I drew my attention to my oldest sister, lifted my eyebrows, and tilted my head. “Any reason in particular? Or were you just craving cookies?” I asked when she pulled a handful from the jar as Colleen had and put them on her plate.
“Don’t chide me. I’m stress-eating,” she mumbled around the cookie. “There are a million details running through my brain, and I’m petrified I’m gonna forget something. Between work, this wedding, and getting everything settled for the two weeks we’ll be gone, I’m going crazy. I don’t remember being so stressed and nervous the first time I got married,” she added after swallowing.
“You were a kid then, Cath. Nothing stressed you.” I glanced up at the wall clock.
“And Mom and Nanny were in charge of all the details,” Colleen said, licking her fingers. “All you had to do was show up at the church looking young and virginal.”
Robert dropped a dish in the sink, the sound shattering through the room.
“Sorry,” he muttered over his shoulder to me. “Nothing broke.” The skin around his neck was cherry-red, his ears an even deeper shade.
I tossed him a smile. “No worries.” To my sisters, I opened my eyes wide and pulled a “tone it down, there’s a kid present” face.
They got the hint and nodded.
Sarah patted him on the back and said, “Finish up, and we can go check the last load of sheets. They’ll be dried by now.”
He wiped his wet hands on a towel.
“I just left your dad, so he’s probably gonna be here soon to pick you up. Everything going okay?”
He nodded, flicked a glance over to my sisters, then followed Sarah out.
“Where did you see Lucas?” Cathy asked, popping another cookie in her mouth.
“At the cemetery.”
“That was your ‘errand’?” Cathy air quoted the word.
�
�Yeah.”
“And Lucas was there, too?”
“He had something to ask me and needed a quick answer.”
“What?”
“Nosy much, Cathleen Anne?”
She narrowed her eyes at me.
“The anniversary’s coming up,” Colleen said as she rubbed circles over her protruding abdomen. “We should do something.”
“Let’s get Cathy married and your baby here, first,” I said, “before we make any decisions. Those two events are enough to get through.”
Cathy was giving me her lawyer death stare, and I could sense more of an inquisition coming about Lucas. If I’ve learned anything from my oldest sister in my thirty-two years, it’s how effective diversionary tactics can prove. Before she could lay into me, I jumped in.
“When is Mac due back?” I asked her as I tossed on my apron. Today’s had been a Christmas present from Nanny and read Be nice to me or I’ll poison your food on the bodice.
Not exactly a reassuring phrase for a cook, but Nanny’s sense of humor has always been a little warped and a lot of wicked.
“Not until Friday night.”
“I think it’s the reason you’re stressing out so much,” Colleen told her. “You’re missing your man. Whenever Slade’s gone to the city for foundation business and I can’t go because I’ve got a wedding, I don’t sleep a wink. I’m so used to him being right next to me in bed every night that when he’s not, I can’t settle down. Something seems”—she shrugged—“off. Not right. You know?”
“Yup. I haven’t slept more than an hour a night since Mac left. The bed feels empty. Georgie sleeps at my feet, but even she’s been hard to settle down. I think she misses him, too.”
Cathy and Mac’s black Lab puppy was difficult to settle at the best of times.
“There ya go.” Colleen pointed a pregnancy-puffy finger at her. “You should call him before you climb into bed and have a little hot phone sex before you go to sleep. It’ll calm you down.”
“Or it’ll ramp her up even more,” I said.
Colleen shook her head. “Nope. It does wonders for relieving stress.”
“First-hand experience?” Cathy asked.
