by Peggy Jaeger
“How do you think I’ve been surviving the last two months? Junior here doesn’t allow for a lot of personal interaction between Slade and me which creates a bunch of frustration.”
“And talking dirty to your husband helps?”
“More than you can possibly know. In fact—”
“Excuse me, ladies.”
All three of us turned to that lilting cadence. Donovan Boyd stood in my kitchen doorway, a long cylindrical tube on one hand, the other stuffed into his pants pocket, and a look of wry amusement traipsing across his face.
To me, he said, “Forgive me, Maureen darlin’. I don’t mean to intrude on your…conversation, but your assistant said to come on back.”
“You’re not intruding at all,” I said, coming to him and shaking his hand. I introduced him to my sisters, both of whom stared at him with open and obvious interest.
“Well now,” Donovan said to them with a devilish smile, “you three are making me homesick for Ireland, y’are. All that glorious red hair and those sparklin’ blue eyes. Beauty certainly runs in your family.”
Since we’d all grown up at Nanny’s knee, witness to her never-ending coquettish ways, you’d think we’d be immune to his blatant flirtatiousness.
I, in truth, was. Not so my older sisters. Colleen actually blushed, something I hadn’t seen her do in years, when she smiled across the table at him. Cathleen swiped the cookie remnants from her mouth with a flick of her pinky finger, then ran her tongue around her teeth to remove any tell-tale chocolate before she sat up as straight as our mother had taught us to and graced him with a beguiling grin.
“I’ve got those revised plans we discussed last time,” Donovan told me. “I think you’re gonna be pleased.”
“What plans?” Colleen asked.
I explained about the expansion.
“I knew you’d been thinking about expanding,” she said, “but I didn’t know you’d actually hired an architect.”
“Can we see them, too?” Cathy asked.
Boyd looked to me for approval. I gave it.
After I removed the dishes and cookies from the table and wiped it down, he placed the new plans on top of it. Robert and Sarah returned, and soon my kitchen was filled with several pair of eyes perusing the sketches he’d made.
I have to admit I was thrilled by what he’d drawn. Boyd explained how he’d modified the plans after our last visit, the space he’d added to each cottage, and the differing layouts we could incorporate into each if I was so inclined. He stood close at my side, his hand brushing my arm several times as he reached to indicate something on the drawings.
“You’ve more than enough space to add a second level on a few, should ya wish,” Boyd said.
“I hadn’t considered a second level, but it makes sense and adds even more sleeping space.”
“They’d be like little efficiency cottages,” Cathy said. “For families who have kids.”
“Or for bridal suites,” Colleen added. “All the attendants could stay together, for instance.”
I nodded. “That was my original thought. It would be easier for parties to be together than spaced out around the inn. Bachelorette parties could all stay in one place, too.”
“You wouldn’t have to do every one the same.” Boyd leaned over me again, this time resting his hand on my shoulder. “You could do every other one, or put the second levels on the ones in the center of the group.”
“Oh, my God, I love this!” Colleen grinned from ear to ear. In the next second, her smile flew. Her shoulders folded in on themselves as she placed her hands, open palmed, across her bulging belly. “Okay, ow. Lighten up, kid.”
The room went silent, all eyes on my sister.
Cathy latched onto her upper arm as I came around the table and crouched down in front of her.
I laid my hands on her knees and asked, “Are they the same as you’ve been having? The Braxton Hicks, not the real ones? They don’t feel different, do they?”
She didn’t respond while she held her breath. A fine sheen of perspiration popped out over her eyebrows and top of her mouth.
“Do you want us to call Slade?”
“Or take you the hospital?” Cathy asked, her face gone white, “just in case…you know? The baby really is coming?”
Colleen managed to shake her head, but there was no mistaking the fear breaking through the pain in her expression.
“Hey. What’s going on?”
I looked over my shoulder to find Lucas ambling through the doorway. He held his hat in his hand, his gaze targeted in on me. A wave of profound relief broke through me. Lucas was the calm in any storm. Despite being miffed at him, he was a blessing to see.
“Colleen’s having contractions,” I told him. “We’re worried.”
He made a motion for me to move out of the way.
I stood tall so he could take my place beside my sister. He slipped one of her hands off her belly and cupped it between both of his.
“Coll, look at me.” With wide, unfocused eyes, she did. Lucas, a tiny tilt to his head, his expression soft and kind with the ghost of grin crossing his lips, said, “Ya gotta breathe, kiddo. Come on. Let it out, then take a breath in, slow and steady now, okay. Do it with me.”
Calmly, he guided her through it, breathing along with him to his commands. After a few moments, her shoulders relaxed and she let her eyes drift close, one final, deep breath following through.
The mood in the room collectively calmed. For the first time since she’d grabbed her belly, I was finally able to take my own full breath.
When she opened her eyes again, I slid by Boyd, who’d been watching silently from next to Sarah, and handed her a napkin to wipe her sweating brow and lip. She stared across at Lucas. “If I didn’t love my husband with everything in me, I swear, Lucas Alexander, I would marry you in a heartbeat. Thank you.”
The tips of his ears went pink. “Real or fake?” he asked.
“Fake.”
“You want me to drive you to the doctor’s office to make sure?”
“No. No, I’m sure. This is the way they’ve been. A quick punch lasting about a minute or two, and then it eases.”
“No regularity to them?”
“No, none, which is why the doctor isn’t concerned. Since this is my first pregnancy and I’m over thirty-five, these are more common. He said I can start to worry when they occur a little more like clockwork. For now, it’s only been one or two a day.”
Lucas glanced up at his son, then back to my sister. “Nora went through this, too. Scared the bejesus out of us at first. Most important thing to do is time them and breathe through them.”
“That’s what the doc told us.”
“You sure you don’t want me to take you in to be checked out as a precaution? Or I could take you home. I’ve got the squad right outside. It’s no bother.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “I’ll even let you play with the siren if you want.”
Right there was the reason I could never stay mad at this man and why I loved him with every ounce of my soul.
Gentle laughter bounded around the room.
“I think I’ll take you up on that. Slade should be there about now, so I won’t be alone.”
“Let me call him first, to be sure.” Cathy pulled her phone from her pocket.
“You okay to stand?”
“Like I told these two and my husband”—she cocked her head at me and Cathy—“I’m pregnant, not infirm.”
“Yeah, but your center of gravity’s a little off, so it’s no shame to ask for help, especially when changing positions.”
“You should mention that to Slade. If he keeps trying to haul me out of a chair, I’m afraid we’ll both wind up in the hospital. Me in labor, him in traction.”
He slid an arm around her back and kept hold of her hand while she hoisted herself from the chair. Boyd moved to take her other arm.
“Okay?” Lucas asked.
She nodded.
While bo
th men helped her and Cathy gave Slade a rundown over the phone, I packed up a go-bag of leftover lunch items.
“Here.” I handed it to Lucas once Colleen was upright. “Carry this for her.” To Colleen I said, “It’s quiche Lorraine, a few slices of whole wheat bread for dinner, and some cookies for dessert. Let Slade deal with it so you won’t have to cook, and you can sit with your feet up, rest, and be catered to.”
“I won’t say no because Slade loves your cooking.” She gave me a side hug while Lucas held her by the other arm. Boyd stepped back to his spot by the sink. “And you know I never miss the chance to be pampered and catered to.”
“Remember Nanny’s motto,” I told her. “Never stand if you can sit, and never sit if you can lie down. She may be a bit much at times, but that philosophy is what’s gotten her to ninety-four years old.”
“God’s truth,” my sister said.
“Call us later, okay?” Cathy told her, bussing her cheek. “Let us know how you’re feeling and if we can do anything.”
“Will do.”
“I’ll come back for you after I get her settled, okay?” Lucas asked his son. “Unless you’re done now and want to come with us.”
Robert shook his head. “I’ve got a few things left to do.”
Lucas shot a glance at me, then back to Robert. “Okay. See you in a bit.”
“Well, that’s more excitement than we’ve seen in a while,” Cathy said once they’d gone. She reached over to the counter and grabbed the insomnia cookie jar again. “I need these right now to calm me down. Who else wants?” She lifted the open jar to the others.
Boyd was the only taker.
“It’s a wonder you’re not getting a sugar high.”
“I’ll crash later,” she said around a cookie.
A moan flew through the room, ringed with a loud sigh of pleasure. “Well, now, these are the best t’ings I’ve ate in a while. Don’t tell me ya made these yourself?” Boyd addressed me. “Taste like nectar, they do. Can’t have been made by a mere mortal.” The moisture in his eyes twinkled as he trailed his tongue across his bottom lip and pulled in a bit of cookie crumb, his gaze never moving from mine.
The man was a shameless flirt, and while I was pleased with the compliment, it was a bit overboard and dramatic for a cookie. I mentally ticked off another thing he had in common with Nanny.
Robert beat me to an answer, the hard tone in his voice unusual. He sounded an awful lot like his father when he said, “She bakes everything herself. And everything she makes tastes great, not just the cookies.”
I smiled across the room at him. The scowl pulling his brows over his eyes and the downturn of his mouth told me he didn’t like Boyd’s response to my cookies.
“That’s the gospel truth,” Cathy said, finishing off her final cookie. “Of the three of us, Maureen got the majority of the cooking DNA.” She placed the jar back on top of the refrigerator and turned to me, a winsome expression flashing in her gaze. “I don’t suppose you have any more quiche you want to get rid of, do you? I don’t have anything good at home for dinner. I haven’t gone shopping since Mac’s been gone.” She widened her eyes and bit down on her bottom lip. I wasn’t fooled for a moment with her pathetic pout. I’d seen her use it one too many times on our parents when we were kids as a way of getting out of a punishment or a scolding. It worked on them every single time.
It didn’t on me.
“Did you give it all to Coll?” she asked.
Without a word, I wrapped up a half tin of the leftover lunch. “You’re on your own for bread, though, since I gave her the last of it.”
Her expression changed from downtrodden to bright and airy in a millisecond. “I’m better off not having any bread anyway. Those cookies were all the carbs I need for the next week, or I won’t be able to fit into my dress come wedding day.”
While I bagged the quiche, she told Boyd, “I love your plans, Mr. Boyd, and I think adding the second levels is a great idea.”
“Well now, I’m glad for you saying so, but it’s ultimately up to your sister whether or not she wants them. And please—Mr. Boyd’s me father. Call me Van, darlin’.”
“Either way, it’s going to be great, Van.” She shook his hand, then accepted the shopping bag from me. I’d tossed in a cupcake when she wasn’t looking. “Walk me out,” she told me before she pulled Robert into a hug.
“Don’t let my sister work you to the bone,” she said in a stage whisper. “Have some fun while you’re here, too.”
His response was to kiss her cheek and nod.
I excused myself and followed her through the breezeway to the outside hall.
“Oh my God, Mo,” she whispered after a quick glance over her shoulder.
“What?”
“What do you mean what? Donovan Boyd is one serious piece of gorgeous, and he can’t keep his eyes off you.”
I lifted a shoulder.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed, because I know for a fact you’re not blind. He’s seriously into you. Has he asked you out?”
First Lucas and now Cathy. Why was everyone so concerned about my social life all of a sudden?
I ignored the question. “I’m not blind, nor deaf, Cathleen Anne,” I said.
“What?”
“The man is a little too charming for his own good. Works that Irish lilt as much as another shameless flirt we happen to know.”
She flicked her hand at me in a dismissive fashion. “An old woman who flirts is nothing compared to a hot guy who does. Nanny does it for attention and nine times out of ten to get a rise out of people. For the shock value. A man like Boyd does it to let you know he’s interested and wants to get to know you better. You didn’t see him watching your face when he was showing us those plans.”
“Probably because he was gauging my reaction to what he’d drawn up. He wants to make sure I like it so I’ll approve the project. It’s a big one, and I suspect landing it will be a feather in his cap at the firm.”
Cathy was tailor-made to be a lawyer. Our father, after all, had groomed her to follow in his footsteps since her birth. The way she dropped her chin a millimeter, slanted her head to one side, and peered at me through eyes that had gone just a little closed, was a look I knew was meant to elicit information. From a witness on the stand sworn to tell the truth, it worked.
But once again, we were in my home, not a courtroom, and I wasn’t putting my hand on any Bibles.
I glared right back at her and kept silent, something I know frustrated her to no end.
With a dramatic sigh, she finally capitulated. “It’s amazing you never studied law or went into law enforcement. You’d have made a kick-ass FBI agent, you know.”
“Two lawyers in the family and having Lucas around is all I need to know I could never make it as a cop. Now, go home, play with your puppy, and eat dinner. And take Colleen’s advice and call Mac before you go to bed. I’ve got an inn to run.”
I leaned in to kiss her cheek, but she pulled back. “Maureen.”
I could feel a lecture coming on and wanted no part of it. “Cathy, really. Go home.”
This time she let me kiss her. With a shake of her head, she finally left.
Back in my kitchen, Sarah was speaking to Boyd, who had a mug in his hand, while Robert was silently removing dishes from the dishwasher.
“Ah, there she is,” Boyd said with a smile when I entered. “The lovely innkeeper.”
Honestly, the man really could have apprenticed at Nanny’s knee. The sound of a cup meeting a saucer banged through the room.
“Sorry,” Robert mumbled as he snuck a side eye at me.
“Why don’t we go into my office and go over these plans in more detail,” I said to Boyd.
“Brilliant. Thank you for the tea, Sarah, darlin’,” he told her. “Tastes as wonderful as if my sainted mother brewed it herself.”
Boyd’s charm may have been wasted on me, but not so my fiftyish assistant. A red flush streaked up her ch
ubby cheeks as she graced him with a shy smile.
Boyd must have gotten the hint I wasn’t interested in his flirting, because once we were in my office with the drawings open and laid out on my desk, he was all business, something I was happy for.
After about fifteen minutes, a knock came on my open door. Robert peeked his head through and said, “Sorry. Dad’s here.”
“That’s fine. We’re finished, anyway,” I told him.
Boyd rolled up the designs, and I went back to my kitchen. Lucas had the tin of insomnia cookies in one hand, his other buried inside it. He grabbed a handful and caught my eye as I came into the room.
A grin as boyish and infinitesimally more charming than anything Boyd could conjure bloomed across his face. I could live the rest of my life on just that look and never grow hungry or weary.
Of course I couldn’t let him know that, though. With my arms crossed over my chest and a lift of an eyebrow, I peered at him like a mother would a naughty child.
“I didn’t think you’d mind if I swiped a few,” Lucas said. “No time for lunch. I got…busy.”
Some of his busy time had been spent sparring with me at the cemetery. Shaking my head, I strode past him, pointed to the table, and said, “Sit.”
He did as I commanded without a word, taking the cookies with him.
“You, too, Bobby-Boy.”
From the refrigerator, I pulled out slices of ham from yesterday’s lunch, bread, mayonnaise, and mustard.
“Colleen okay?” I asked as I put together some sandwiches.
“Yeah. Slade was there, got her all settled on the couch with her feet up.” The smile I’d heard in his voice changed. The reason for his sudden mood shift was explained when Boyd strode back into the room.
“Chief,” he said, bobbing his head Lucas’s way.
It took Lucas a moment before he said, “Boyd.”
It didn’t escape me neither of them attempted to put out a hand.
“I’ll contact ya in a few days with the next round of designs, darlin’. I think you’re makin’ the right decision addin’ on the second levels. ’Twill give ya a lot more room.”
“I agree. It’s the right way to go.”
He smiled, then snuck a glance at Lucas, who was eyeing him like a hunter with Boyd caught in his crosshairs.
