The Birthday Fantasy

by Sara Walter Ellwood

  The tangerine sun was high over the western mountain like a diamond-encrusted crown, turning the blue of the water a burnished yellow. She stared at the beauty for a moment, then shook her head and met his gaze. “Think we can be ready by seven?”

  He nodded and picked up her bags. “Hell, I can be ready in five minutes.”

  She laughed and followed him down the sidewalk toward the main building aptly called The Lake House. “Even getting dressed in a money suit, as you put it?”

  He wrinkled his nose as if theq thought of a suit smelled bad. “Well, I might need ten. But if my memory serves me correctly, you’ll take at least an hour.”

  “What can I say? Perfection takes time.”

  “Smart-ass.”

  ****

  They arrived at The Lake House a few minutes later. From Tate’s Internet search after Hank talked him into this craziness three days ago, he discovered the main building wasn’t a hotel. The Lake House held the formal restaurants, theater, casino, full spa, and large rooms where weddings were held. The rooms were actually private beach houses lined up around the shores of the lake with a lot of private space between them.

  The lobby was an airy open expanse of some of the most beautiful marble and columns Tate had ever seen. In the center of the space was a large spiral staircase with a waterfall behind it. Green and flowering plants were scattered around, and with walls of windows facing the lake and mountains, the entire building seemed to be an extension of the outside.

  “Holy wow!” Jamie gushed as she looked around. “God. This place is...”

  “Amazing.” He took her hand and headed toward the reception desk. “Let’s go check in. I can’t wait to see what our beach house looks like.”

  She looked around again. “Yeah, me either.”

  As they waited for an opening with one of the two clerks, they walked around a small sitting area, complete with overstuffed chairs in bright prints and stripes and a fireplace. Over the mantle, a formal portrait of a young Louisa D'aubigne dressed in a gorgeous gown greeted them.

  Tate jutted his chin toward the painting. “She was a beautiful woman. I see you in her.”

  Jamie nodded and stared up at her mother. “She was beautiful, wasn’t she? No wonder my father fell for her.”

  “I think he still loves her.”

  She glanced across her shoulder at him. “I know he does. But I wish sometimes he would’ve let her go after she died. He never could, and now with me getting married, he’ll be all alone.”

  “That must’ve been hard.”

  “What?” She switched the bag in her hand to the other one.

  He stared up into the painted deep brown eyes of a dark haired version of the woman he loved. He understood Hank’s love because Tate doubted he’d ever find another woman who could take Jamie’s place in his heart. At least, Jamie was alive. He’d be able to enjoy having her around, watching her grow old and into motherhood, even if it would break his heart because he wasn’t the man in her life. Hank’s love was long dead due to a horrible accident. “Losing your mother so soon after you were born.”

  “I can’t imagine it either. Maria has always been the closest thing I’ve ever known to a mother. She’s wonderful, as is Daddy, but...” As she looked at the painting again, pain flickered across her profile. “I wish I would have known her.”

  Tate wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him, kissing her temple. “C’mon. Let’s get checked in.”

  He glanced up at the painting as he turned her away. Those dark brown eyes seemed to be staring back at him with an intensity he couldn’t explain. The sudden chill skittering down his spine had him shivering.

  Jamie looked up at him. “Are you cold?”

  He shook his head in as much as an answer to her, as a way of shaking the sudden unnerving of whatever he’d just felt.

  They checked in and a limo waited to take them to their beach house. The small A-frame sat along the edge of the lake upon a slight rise above the water’s edge. Pines and aspens surrounded the structure almost to the water’s edge.

  Jamie came around the car to stand beside Tate. “This place is amazing.”

  He smiled. “Do you forgive me yet?”

  Her blue eyes danced as she fought the smile tugging at the corner of her very kissable lips. “Nope. But let’s go in. I’m hungry and can’t wait to see you all decked out in a suit and tie.”

  He groaned and wasn’t sure if it came from the thought of kissing her or the dreaded suit.

  ****

  The limo driver unloaded their bags and purchases, including the gowns Jamie had bought. Her heart pounded as she stood on the porch facing the lush green of the mountain as Tate tipped the driver and requested a car to return at seven to take them back to The Lake House for dinner. Birds chirped in the trees and flowers filled the garden around the front of the cabin. From this view, it was all mountain and trees, but the soft whisper of waves breaking on the beach behind the house reminded her that this place truly was a paradise of both worlds.

  “You ready?”

  Tate’s question startled her. He stood by the open door. She nodded and followed him into a great room, beautifully decorated in soft blue and creamy yellow. A stone fireplace sat in the center of the room and served as a divider between a small kitchen and dining space and the larger sitting area. Arched doorways lead to what she assumed were the bedrooms on either side. The back wall was nothing but windows from floor to ceiling and showed the spectacular view of the lake. A double set of French doors opened onto a stone patio. Jamie weaved her way around the buttery hued leather couch to the door.

  “Which room do you want?”

  She glanced to the left. The door to the bedroom stood open to show off a whole lot of creamy white gauze material over a four-poster bed with a pale blue spread. Blue was one of her favorite colors. “I’ll take that one.”

  Tate mumbled something as she walked onto the patio. Their private beach stretched out below them. The water invited her into its refreshing coolness as it lapped at the pale yellow sand.

  “This place just keeps getting better and better.” Tate came up behind her at the railing of the terrace.

  “No wonder it’s still one of the most popular lover’s getaways in the country. It’s so...” She turned and found she was pinned between the railing behind her and one very big, handsome cowboy in front of her.

  He brushed his fingers over her check, and her stomach flopped as she gazed in his dark green eyes. She didn’t miss the desire in them or the heat radiating from him. His scent of leather and sage mixed with the fragrances of the flowers, mountain and lake to intoxicate her.

  Before her brain caught up with her actions, her hands slid up his muscular chest. His breath came fast as she leaned into him and his lips touched hers. The kiss stared out soft and tender, but he soon jacked up the heat by pulling her to him and sweeping his tongue in and stealing her will to fight the attraction between themq.

  When his hat hit her arm as it fell to the stone floor, she jerked back. The spell she’d been under shattered.

  “Oh, God!” What had she done?

  “Jamie.” His rough, deep voice echoed desire, and she shuddered with a shameful need.

  How could she betray Robbie like this?

  Pushing on his chest, she slipped away from the railing behind her and the solid wall of his powerful body. “I’m sorry. I--I don’t know what came over me.”

  He picked up his hat and pounded the brim on his thigh. She had no idea what his expression held. She faced the French door and refused to meet his gaze.

  “No, I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry, Jamie. Let’s get ready for dinner.” He passed by her and entered through the door. A moment later, he disappeared into the room on the right.

  Chapter 5

  Dinner turned out to be an exercise of avoidance. Tate couldn’t have said if the steak and fancy potatoes he’d been served tasted good or not. He ate simply bec
ause he figured he was hungry and because, despite the tension between them, he didn’t want the evening to end.

  He didn’t regret the kiss, but he wished he’d not given into the temptation as easily as he had.

  When the waitress stopped by their table to refill their water glasses, Jamie glanced up at the young woman. “I’m finished if you’d like to take my plate.”

  With a frown, the girl picked up the plate holding most of Jamie’s uneaten dinner. “Was something wrong with your meal, Miss? Is there something else you’d like better?”

  Jamie smiled up at her. “No. I’m just not very hungry I guess.”

  Tate leaned back in his chair as the server took his plate, which to his surprise was empty.q

  “Would either of you like dessert? We have a decadent chocolate cake which is to die for.”

  Jamie shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  Tate knew exactly what would happen next. They’d go back that lover’s haven and spend the night lying in separate beds. He didn’t want to lay awake staring up into the canopy over his bed wishing he’d done things differently. “Yes, we would like some of the chocolate cake and coffee, too. Today is the lady’s birthday.”

  “Well, happy birthday, Miss.” The girl smiled brightly. “I’ll be right back with your desserts.”

  Jamie narrowed eyes at him. “I don’t want cake.”

  He’d rather have her ire than her ignoring him. “Too damned bad. You’re having it. I kidnapped you to celebrate your birthday and that’s exactly what we are going to do.” He picked up the bottle of red wine he’d ordered and refilled her glass and his own. After putting the bottle back in the sliver chiller, he held up his glass in a toast. “To birthdays. May you have many more.”

  He waited as she took her glass and touched the rim against his.

  “Yeah. Right. And if they don’t involve kidnappings, I’ll be forever happier.” She gulped the wine and set the glass on the table.

  The waitress took that moment to deliver their coffee in delicate china cups sitting on saucers. The dark chocolate cake was drizzled with white cream and ripe strawberries garnished the plate.

  “I’m not eating this.” As she peered at the cake and chewed on her bottom lip, she folded her arms in front of her, deepening her cleavage the short black dress showed off nicely.

  He had a hard time keeping his eyes pinned on her face and not looking lower. Shrugging, he picked up his fork and dug into all that chocolate. “Yum. Suit yourself, but this is good.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  Her question wasn’t unreasonable, considering he was her kidnapper. He finished off the bite of cake with a sip of coffee from his frilly little cup and set it back on its ridiculous saucer. “Your father asked me to.”

  “And if Daddy asked you to jump off the Grand Canyon, you’d no doubt do that too.”

  He met her gaze and knew he couldn’t bullshit his way out of this. She deserved a straight answer, but she had to come up with it on her own. “Do you realize you never once asked to call that fiancé of yours?”

  Her eyes flashed with surprise. “I didn’t have the chance.”

  “Bullshit.” He leaned toward her. Her sweet scent of sugar and sunshine filled his senses. “You could have asked to call Jefferson any time. You never once even asked. And why is that, Jamie?”

  Her gaze dropped to her cake. She picked at the icing with her fork. “Let’s eat. I’m exhausted and want to get some sleep. Tomorrow I’m spending the day on the beach. I may as well try to get a tan for the wedding while I’m here. Hopefully if I use enough sunscreen, I won’t end up burned to a crisp.”

  She took a bite of the cake, the discussion over. Tate smiled around his coffee cup. Jamie was evading the answer because she didn’t like it, but she couldn’t hide from the truth forever.

  ****

  After they left the restaurant, Tate and Jamie ambled through the garden waiting for their car. Jamie wanted to get back to the house and call Robbie. She needed to talk to him, to hear his voice, and maybe remind herself of why she wanted to marry him. This place and Tate unnerved her.

  Tate walked ahead of her with his hands tucked into the pockets of a pair of suit pants that fit him as if they were made for his long, lean legs. The charcoal coat hugged his broad shoulders and tapered to show off his narrow waist. A smart red and black tie, white shirt, a pair of black cowboy boots and his Bailey hat sitting on his head of unruly black hair finished the look.

  Damn, the cowboy cleaned up nice.

  She followed him, watching the way he moved, and hated the heat pooling deep in her center. With a deep breath of the flower-scented air, she tried to dispel the memories of the passion they’d once shared—hot, wild, barely controlled. Parked near one of the lakes on the ranch, with nothing around them for miles but cows and grass, they’d spend hours making love on the bed of his pickup truck.

  The last time she and Robbie made love, he had to leave her due to an emergency at one of his job sites before she was completely satisfied.

  She shook her head and peeled her gaze from Tate’s perfect ass. Sexual frustration would do this to a girl. She was a hormonal mess with the excitement of her pending marriage making her more sensual than usual.

  They came to a stone bench and sat down. The garden was alive with the sounds of night insects and the soft conversation of other couples wandering through the colorful maze.

  Tate leaned over his long legs and stared down at his clasped hands. “So, you really are moving to Dallas?”

  With a sigh, she nodded. “That’s where Robbie is.”

  “What are you going to do with the ranch?”

  She rubbed her forearms against a sudden chill. “Daddy’s there.”

  Tate straightened and turned toward her. “He hasn’t told you, has he?”

  Snapping her gaze to his, she held her breath. “About what?”

  “Oh, hell.” He swallowed and glanced back at his hands. “It’s not my place to tell you.”

  Her heart slammed into her chest. She grabbed his forearm. “Tate, what do you know? Damn you, tell me.”

  He took another deep breath and rubbed his hand over the dark shadow of beard at his chin. “He’s…”

  As he took her hand and held it, he stared into her eyes, and she knew what he was going to say. Her heart cracked and her breath froze. “He’s sick?”

  Tate closed his eyes and nodded. “He has cancer.”

  Pain and terror ripped through her. She couldn’t--wouldn’t--believe it. “He’s getting treatment, right?”

  “He will.”

  “How long has he been sick?”

  “I don’t know. He just found out two weeks ago when his doctor did some tests.”

  As she stared at her best friend, burning anger slithered into the cracks in her heart. “How could he keep this from me? Why do you know, but I knew nothing?”

  “He told me the night he found out. He came to my house and we got drunk.” Tate leaned back and pulled her into his arms. “God, Jamie, I didn’t realize you didn’t know.”

  She stiffened, afraid of the contact, but soon realized she needed it. His heart sounded strong and steady under her ear where her face pressed into his chest. “He never said a word. I noticed he’s lost weight, but I never thought he was sick.”

  He rubbed her back, giving her his strength. “I don’t think he believes it himself. He’s never been sick a day in his life.”

  She snaked her arms around him. A traitorous thought bloomed in her mind. She was thankful Tate was here with her now and not Robbie. He would’ve been supportive, like Tate was now, but Robbie didn’t truly understand her relationship with her father. Tate did because he had the same sort of love and respect for the man he thought of as a father. “What kind of cancer does he have?”

  “Colon.” Tate’s voice dipped so low, it nearly cracked.

  She closed her eyes and let the tears fall. He brushed his fingers over her cheek to la
y his rough, warm hand on the side of her face. “He’s tough, Jamie. I know he’ll fight this thing.”

  As she breathed in Tate’s musky scent, she prayed he was right. “I can’t lose my daddy. I can’t.”

  ****

  Her father couldn’t die. He had to beat this thing.

  Jamie stared into the darkness of the gauzy canopy. Tears had long ago soaked her hair and the pillow under her head. She’d stopped wiping at them hours ago.

  He was the only constant in her life--besides Tate and Maria. He’d taken care of her since she was a baby and never once complained. She remembered all the times he’d played dolls and tag with her and a million other childhood games. As she closed her eyes, she recalled the time when she was about five or six and he’d been napping in his favorite chair. She’d snuck in and put blue eye shadow and bright red lipstick on him. How he’d slept through it all, she still didn’t know. Despite the tears and the heartache, she smiled at the memory or her cowboy daddy wearing Maria’s makeup when the old foreman had walked in and had seen him. Daddy hadn’t lived his Cover Girl look down for years.

  But not once had he ever been angry with her.

  “Oh, Daddy. What am I going to do without you?”

  The soft click of the door opening had her turning her head to Tate’s silhouette in the doorway. He didn’t need an invitation, but she reached out to him, and he climbed into bed beside her. He was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, but she didn’t pay much attention as he tucked her into the crook of his arm and held her to his body.

  “Shhh... Go to sleep, princess.”

  “Tate?”

  He soothingly stroked her hair. “Yeah?”

  “Just hold me. Don’t leave me tonight.”

  He met her gaze and swallowed. “I won’t.”

  ****

  Sleep was impossible as Tate held Jamie. She’d fallen asleep not long after he’d come to her bed. Her soft breathing was the only sound in the room. She warmed him where she lay against his side and on his chest. The scent of sunshine and honey filled his senses, but he didn’t feel the overwhelming desire he usually felt with her. Instead, he only felt pain for her. His heart broke for her.