The One Who Changed Everything (The Cherry Sisters)

by Darcy, Lilian

  “I’ll head off,” he announced. He looked at his watch, impatient to be out of here. The detour to his mother’s had already added forty minutes to his journey from Lake Luzerne to Spruce Bay.

  Emma looked shocked that he was really going, that he hadn’t caved—hadn’t even budged. She made a little sound and jumped to her feet, but his mom put out a warning hand.

  “I guess he’s right, honey,” she said. “Max is old enough to wait a day or two. Rob will be back tomorrow evening.” She was looking intently at Tucker and he wondered what she saw. The happiness? The all-consuming fire?

  Feelings that had nothing whatsoever to do with Emma.

  A part of him wanted to shout his feelings for Daisy to the rooftops, to everyone he knew. Another part of him gloried in the fact that their relationship was still so new and secret. There were some good things about easing into it, it turned out.

  He hugged his mother goodbye, gave Max another swing, throwing him up to the ceiling. Emma had her arms folded as if to say, You’re not hugging me if you’re going to be like this.

  He didn’t care, just said a general “See you soon,” and left, gunning the pickup out of his mother’s driveway a little too fast for safety, and only just remembering to check in the rearview mirror that there was nothing in the way.

  When he reached Spruce Bay at last, Mary Jane had apparently been waiting for him with business to attend to. She emerged from the office and he had to stop the car, when he’d planned on driving as far as the parking area adjacent to the restaurant, and his heart sank at the sight of her. He could see the lights on in there, and hoped it meant that Daisy was finishing up. They could taste test those recipes, and then...

  At least Mary Jane didn’t waste time getting to her point. “Can I just check with you that I’ve done the right thing in taking bookings for cabins three and four?” she asked.

  “Didn’t I say that already, yesterday?”

  “But the new walkways will be done by then, will they? Definitely?”

  “They will definitely be done.”

  “Including the pergola section?”

  “Yes, absolutely. We have the footings in place already. The carpentry work will be done tomorrow. If the forecast looks iffy for next week, we’ll paint over the weekend because it’s supposed to be pretty mild.”

  “And is there any chance you can have something planted in there?”

  “I can if you want. It won’t be the permanent plantings. We’re too close to the cold weather to get those in. But there are some temporary options.”

  Do we have to talk about this now?

  Without waiting for her to answer, he added impatiently, “Is Daisy around? Over in the restaurant?”

  “Yes, still working on the recipes. She wanted us to eat over there tonight, give her some feedback and help her with the detail—”

  “Sounds great.” He went to start the engine again, but Mary Jane wasn’t done.

  “But she was later starting on it than she wanted. We’re getting a little behind in a few areas. I’m not sure about the eating plan. I know she’ll get distracted as soon as she sees you, and if we don’t get our recipes finalized, with ingredients and quantities noted down—”

  “Get distracted?”

  “I’m thinking maybe she and I should do the taste testing on our own. Could you wait a couple hours, Tucker? Come back when we’re all done?”

  “You want me to leave.” Every cell in his body rebelled. Hadn’t he waited long enough already? He hadn’t seen Daisy all day, and he could picture her, feel the scent of her on his skin in anticipation, and it just seemed impossible to keep waiting. “You want me just to go and fill in time? Because I’m a distraction?”

  “We have our first booking in less than a week,” she reminded him, although he knew it perfectly well.

  “Didn’t you say Daisy wanted my help?”

  Mary Jane laughed. “Help.” She crooked her fingers into imaginary quotation marks. “Well, she might, but I’ve seen that kind of help before.” Suddenly, to his eyes she looked so shrewish, standing there, her body stiffened against the cold of early evening, while he sat impatiently at the wheel. She had her arms folded and her eyes narrowed and she looked like an unhappy woman taking her bitterness out on everything around her. “I don’t think we have time for it tonight, Tucker.”

  Which was when he lost it.

  “Why do you not want this to happen?” He could see the windows of the restaurant kitchen all steamed up, could imagine Daisy darting around there in the warmth, surrounded by delectable aromas, and all he wanted—all he wanted, damn it, was it so much to ask?—was to be with her.

  Hold her.

  Bury his face in her hair.

  Laugh with her.

  Wash her cooking pots and make lists of grocery orders, if need be.

  His whole body ached with it like an illness.

  “I’ve just told you why I don’t want it. She’s behind. We both are. And if that means we have unhappy guests next week—”

  “I’m not talking about you not wanting me to go over there right now,” he cut in impatiently. “Although that’s bad enough. I’m talking about the whole relationship. My relationship with Daisy, Mary Jane. You don’t want it. Whether that’s on Lee’s behalf or your own, I don’t know.”

  “She hasn’t told Lee yet.”

  He read the words as a challenge and a dismissal.

  She hasn’t told Lee yet because you’re not nearly as important as you think.

  “And you’re happy about that, aren’t you?” he accused. His temples were throbbing with tension. “How do you have the interfering audacity to feel that way? How can you be such a bitch?” The words came out with no thought for politeness or censorship or kindness. His need for Daisy was as powerful as an addiction, and after Emma and his mother both attempting to waylay him, his impatience had built up a powerful head of steam. “Of all people, Mary Jane, you are the one who should understand.”

  Did she even remember? Daisy up in her room with the light shining out, Tucker looking up at her as if she was Juliet, Mary Jane coming out and catching him, and him catching her catching him, and them both knowing, and nothing being said...

  Did she remember that?

  He saw in her face that she did, that she knew exactly what he was talking about, and told her even more forcefully, “You do understand, damn it, but you want to sabotage it. You want to scuttle it.”

  “That’s not fair!”

  “It’s the same as it was ten years ago. You were unhappy with Alex, it wasn’t going where you wanted, so you didn’t want anyone else to get there first, and especially not your baby sister. You couldn’t stand for her to be happy when you weren’t, and ten years later you’re exactly the same. Maybe worse.”

  “That is really, really unfair, Tucker.” She looked at him as if he’d slapped her, her cheeks suddenly bright pink and her eyes glittering, and he was so far gone that he didn’t even care.

  Her problem, wasn’t it?

  He revved the engine and the pickup surged forward, leaving a spit of icy gravel in its wake. Ahead, the golden light spilled through the steamy restaurant windows and he just couldn’t wait another moment.

  Seeing Daisy was everything he’d wanted, everything he’d been hanging out for all day.

  He leaped from the car, ran up the steps to the staff entrance, pushed open the door and there she was. She beamed at him, standing at the long workbench with her hands deep in a pair of red oven mitts, placing a pie on a rack to cool. “Hi... Want to taste?”

  She meant the pie. “Wanna taste you first,” he growled. He stepped forward and claimed her completely for himself, wrapping her in his arms, smelling the sweetness of sugar and fruit that enveloped her. She had a tiny smear of something s
ticky and red on her cheek. He nuzzled his lips against it and tasted cranberry.

  Her mouth was cranberry flavored, too, tart and sugary and delicious, and her whole body was so soft and warm. At the taste and feel of her, heat arrowed instantly to his groin and he felt himself getting hard, pressing against her. She felt it and responded, rocking her hips in a sinuous rhythm that made him crazy with wanting her. They were locked together so close, it was like they were two trees planted in the same spot, growing together.

  He touched her everywhere he could reach, running his hands down her back, cupping her sweet butt, feeling her breasts squashed soft against his chest. She belonged in his arms like this and he didn’t give a damn about the recipes, even though the scent of them was so good in the air.

  Or about Mary Jane, even though, yeah, he’d probably upset her a bit, he knew.

  Hell, she’d upset him first!

  Daisy murmured, “Mmm” and he kissed her throat, feeling the vibration of the soft moans she wasn’t trying to suppress. When she cooked, she always put her hair in a messy knot, and tendrils always escaped. Devouring her mouth, he felt the tickle of those fragrant strands against his cheek, and reached back to pull the hair free of its elastic band. It fell, sweeping against his face like a caress.

  He wanted her so badly that he started thinking about kitchen countertops, or, better, the lounge section of the restaurant’s small bar. There was a long, thickly padded leather bench seat in there, brand-new...

  Daisy suddenly pulled away. “What was that car?”

  “What car?”

  “I heard a car roaring out of here like it was in a police chase, over by the office.”

  He hadn’t heard a thing.

  “Mary Jane’s on her own over there,” Daisy said. “If some lunatic is doing burnouts in our parking lot...”

  She hurried out to the restaurant and over to the huge plate-glass sliding doors that overlooked the new section of deck, pulling one open and slipping out. Tucker followed her into the cold dark.

  The engine noise wasn’t a stranger doing burnouts. Tucker and Daisy both arrived in time to see the sudden red of brake lights glowing against the blue of Mary Jane’s car. Something had run across the driveway, a squirrel or a raccoon, and she’d braked to avoid hitting it. As soon as the route was clear she was off again, driving too fast on the resort’s winding private-access road.

  “Something’s happened,” Daisy said. “Mom and Dad, or...” She whirled away from the windows and took a few steps, then stopped. “But why didn’t she come over? Has she sent me a text I missed? She doesn’t usually drive like that.”

  Tucker said what he knew to be true. “It’s my fault.”

  “Yours?”

  “Just now when I drove in, before I came over here.”

  “Oh, you saw her?”

  “She came out. We talked a bit. She didn’t want me interrupting you while you were working on the recipes. You had a plan for taste testing over dinner, and she didn’t think I should be part of it. We argued about it.”

  “Must have been quite an argument,” she said lightly. Light on the surface, wary beneath. “To interrupt or not to interrupt. Who knew that could be so contentious.”

  Shoot...

  “I said too much,” he admitted.

  “Too much of what.”

  Hell, he couldn’t say this, couldn’t give her the details.

  I wanted to see you, and she was stalling me, telling me to leave, so I basically told her her whole life was a walking disaster, to make her get out of my way.

  Yeah, that sounded good.

  He’d behaved impeccably over the whole incident.

  Not.

  “This is a mess,” he muttered.

  And so fast, too. He’d gone in a couple minutes from aching for Daisy so hard that all he could think about was getting her clothes off, to realizing he was a complete—

  Well, there were a lot of words for it, and most of them had four letters. He said a few of them in his head, and it didn’t help.

  Why had he done it? Sure, Mary Jane had been pretty irritating, so certain that he would be a hindrance to Daisy’s preparations, tight-mouthed and disapproving about it, but still... Why had he let his hot, driving impatience and passion and need take control of his manners, his mouth and his basic human decency?

  The problem had a familiar taste and a familiar name.

  Dad.

  His father had done it more times than he could count. His father had demonstrated this same tunnel-visioned ruthlessness about his own happiness for the whole four years that he was dying. His father had fallen passionately in love, and it had changed everything, and he hadn’t cared who he hurt or how much. All he’d ever seen were his own needs.

  And now I’m doing the same thing.

  Tucker felt sick to his stomach. “I am so sorry. I hurt her, Daisy. Probably a lot. I said something...a few things.”

  “What things?”

  He couldn’t avoid telling her, he knew that now, but he made it as brief as he could. “That she had no life, so she was trying to wreck mine.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You told her what?”

  “Don’t make me repeat it,” he muttered. He wasn’t meeting her gaze.

  “Why?”

  “Because you heard me the first time.”

  “No, not that,” Daisy almost yelled. Her throat hurt. “Why did you tell her something so hurtful?”

  He said bluntly, through clenched teeth, “Because I wanted to see you, and she was getting in my way. I told her she was a bitch.”

  Everything was perfect, and then came the first chink in the facade.

  Her stomach sank. Was this the real Tucker, self-absorbed and unkind, which she could only see once the dazzle had cleared from her eyes? He already had a broken engagement to Lee, now he’d callously hurt Mary Jane.

  She was so shocked. Shocked that she might have misread him so badly. Shocked at how much that hurt. Like having something incredibly precious ripped out of her arms without the slightest warning.

  She couldn’t believe this was happening. She’d been yearning for him all day, and now...

  Blinking back tears of acute disappointment and anger, she told him, “Do you know how much Mary Jane beats herself up about her life? About the fact that she’s single? And that it makes her bitter and jealous sometimes?”

  He didn’t answer, just stared down, scraping the calluses on his palm with his thumb.

  “She hates it, hates being like that, hates that she can’t help it. I told you she was lonely, Tucker. I gave you that information, broke her confidence... I should never have said it... But I never, ever thought you would use it against her so cruelly!”

  “I need to apologize. I do know that, Daisy.” He looked up at last, met her gaze with a fierce light in his blue eyes.

  “To her or to me?”

  “To her, first.” He looked terrible, almost as bad as he’d looked that night a few weeks ago at the hospital, when Kyle Schramm’s mother and girlfriend had been bristling at each other with such hostility and dislike.

  He gave off the same sense of intense pressure, of questioning his own reactions, of being thrown back into the past in a way that bruised him all over. A part of her ached for him. She couldn’t help it. But she made herself harden her own heart.

  “Then to you,” he was saying. “Or to you now. But fast. Because I need to go find her.”

  “Don’t waste time on any apology to me.”

  “No?”

  “But don’t come back after you’ve talked to my sister. Or call. Or expect to have me in your bed again.”

  Now the shock that vibrated in her body showed just as much in him. She expected an argument, expecte
d him to pull her into his arms and try to convince her that everything was fine.

  Michael would have done that. Michael would have told her she was being petty and irrational and making a mountain out of a molehill.

  But Tucker didn’t say a word in his own defense, nor a word to get her back in his arms. He just gave a tiny nod, as if he didn’t care enough to fight her on what she’d said.

  She’d just dumped him, and he wasn’t even going to argue. This was the biggest shock of all.

  They were still standing on the deck in the cold, and he didn’t go back through the kitchen, just thumped down the steps and around the side of the restaurant to his car, keys already in hand. “I will fix this with Mary Jane,” he said, blue eyes still blazing. “Even if I can’t...don’t have the right...to fix it with you.”

  He slid into the car, started the engine and drove away, chasing after her at a speed that made Mary Jane’s wild flight look sedate by comparison. In moments, his taillights had disappeared.

  Taillights... Fully dark already... What time was it?

  Oh, Lord, the butternut and goat cheese gratin!

  Daisy raced back into the kitchen and grabbed the dish from the oven just in time. It was burned around the edges but the center was fine.

  If she cared.

  Which she didn’t.

  She turned off the oven and surveyed the array of dishes she’d prepared with such excitement and such meticulous attention this afternoon.

  As well as the cranberry pie and butternut gratin, there was a golden, crisp-skinned turkey with a wild mushroom and Parma ham stuffing, a pumpkin pie with nut-and-ginger topping, a dish of green beans, fennel and leeks, an earthenware pot of creamy cauliflower-and-potato soup and a baking dish filled with a very French potato dauphinoise.

  Yes, she was a dessert specialist, but she was pretty good in other areas, as well. It was going to be a great meal. There was still a salad she hadn’t made, and a yam dish with herb-streusel topping, which she wasn’t going to get to tonight.