Snowflake Bay

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Snowflake Bay Page 25

by Donna Kauffman


  He shrugged. “I didn’t start out with that in mind. I just wanted to make people realize that it didn’t take a huge budget and a big piece of property to do something both practical and beautiful. It took a while for the bigger projects to come our way, but that’s just as well. I’d have never had the confidence to tackle those earlier on, and, frankly, I had a lot to learn back then. It was a—”

  “—building process,” she finished for him. “Yes, I completely understand.”

  He smiled. “Yes, I guess you do.” He slipped the two of them around one of the larger photo displays and pulled her in close, then dipped his head and kissed her the way he’d been longing to all night.

  She hummed her approval, and kissed him right back, sliding her arms around his waist and snuggling in closer.

  He was grinning when he finally lifted his head.

  “So smug,” she said, teasing him.

  “Actually, I was just thinking I have to take my hands off of you and go stand outside in the cold for a few minutes if I’m to have any hope of being able to go back in that crowd anytime soon.”

  She laughed and grinned.

  “Now who’s smug?” he teased. He reluctantly let her go and took a step back, but kept her crowded between him and the back of the display. Then, because he didn’t like not touching her, he took her hand in his. “Thank you. For coming with me. For taking the time from your family. Especially with Fergus in the hospital. For, well . . . for everything.”

  She shook her head. “Thank you for inviting me. And for introducing me to everyone. You realize they are now all buzzing, don’t you?”

  “About?”

  “You. Us. Me.”

  “Good,” he said. “I want them buzzing about you, us, me.” He didn’t miss the fleeting look that crossed her expression, but before he could put a name to it, it was gone and she was smiling up at him.

  “Well, they want to see you happy. I’ve been getting grilled.”

  His eyebrows lifted in surprise. He’d figured the crew would be surprised to see him with someone, but he hadn’t really anticipated their protectiveness. Knowing about it though, well . . . it made him feel good. Mostly because he had no doubt they’d approve of Fiona. “How’d you do?” he asked. “Did you pass the test?”

  She cocked her head. “And if I didn’t?”

  He made a gesture over his shoulder with his thumb. “You’d be hitching your way back to the train station.”

  “Wow,” she said, but the twinkle in those gorgeous eyes of hers was on full display. “Good to know. Thank God I’ve been lying through my teeth then and telling them what an amazing guy I think you are. Godlike, really.”

  He tugged her closer. “Lying, huh?” He nudged her back against the display, then leaned down to whisper in her ear. “So, when I had you bent over the bench seat and slid my hands up to cup those most amazing breasts of yours while you took me . . . and took me . . . and took me, saying something like, ‘God, yes, God, yes’ . . . you were lying?”

  She kissed his smiling mouth, then slid her tongue deep and let her hands wander. “Every . . . single . . . word,” she murmured against his lips.

  “You’re a terrible liar,” he said, and gripped her wrist before her hand made it to its obvious destination. “And I like that a lot about you.”

  “Ben? Where did you get off to? Ben?” The sound of a familiar voice made him go still, even as Fiona leaned in and bit his ear.

  “I was trying to get you off,” she whispered with a deliciously wicked little laugh. “But . . . denied, it seems.”

  Ben smiled at that, then leaned in and whispered, “Incoming. I’m sorry.”

  “No worries,” Fiona was saying, as he smoothly turned and shifted her slightly in front of him, slipping his arm around her waist just as Annalise came around to the back of the display area.

  “There you are!” she said, then stopped momentarily as she noted Fiona. Or, more to the point, his arm around Fiona’s waist.

  “Hello, Annalise. I didn’t realize you were stopping by,” he said, politely leaving off the part where she hadn’t been invited.

  Annalise finally managed to drag her gaze from her once-over of Fiona, back to Ben, and her smile returned, though he knew from long exposure that it wasn’t as genuine as it appeared. “Oh, I didn’t think you’d mind if I crashed your annual little shindig. You have been so busy of late, and I thought this would be the perfect time for us to finalize those plans we discussed.” She looked at Fiona. “I’m sorry, I’m being rude.” She extended her perfectly manicured, jewelry-laden hand. “Annalise Manderville.” She grinned at Ben, then back at Fiona. “Ben and I go way back.”

  Ben was about to open his mouth to say something, anything, to make this end as soon as humanly possible, but Fiona beat him to it.

  She took Annalise’s hand and gave it a polite squeeze. “Yes, Ben has told me so much about you,” she said, also smiling what he knew to be a dangerously fake smile.

  “He has?” Annalise’s false smile grew. “Why, how sweet. But then, he is a big sweetheart. I’m so glad, because otherwise this might seem awkward.” She glanced again at Ben’s arm around Fiona’s waist. “I hope you don’t mind if I steal him for a few minutes so we can get our date books in alignment. My parents just adore Ben and we’ve got a full holiday slate in front of us, but what with him being so incredibly sweet helping out his parents and all, it’s been tricky for us to figure things out. Oh—and I just loved my visit to the farm,” she said, switching her attentions and gleaming, predatory smile back to Ben. “So wonderful and picturesque.” She looked back to Fiona. “Have you been up to Maine? It’s so rustic, but I have to say, being out in the middle of nowhere has its advantages.”

  Ben once again started to leap into the opening, but again, Fiona beat him to it. “I guess you and Ben don’t talk very often,” Fiona said, her smile pleasantly fixed. “I’m from Maine. Ben and I grew up together.” She slid her arm around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. “I think I’ve spent almost as much time at his farmhouse as he has at mine.” She looked up at him and shared what, to any outside observer, would appear to be a private, intimate smile. “Especially lately.”

  Ben stared down into her eyes and wanted to kiss her senseless right then and there. “Indeed we have,” he said, leaning down to kiss the side of her mouth, and whisper, “Thank you.” Then he leaned down again, nipped her earlobe and added, “You so own me right now.”

  She let out a delightful little giggle that was so adorably not anything she’d ever do, he almost laughed out loud. He was grinning down at her as she swatted him. “Now behave. You’re the host here. There will be plenty of time for that later.” She turned and shot Annalise a bright, cheerful smile. “I promised his folks that I’d give them a call, to confirm our holiday plans. So why don’t I go take care of that and you two can get your calendars organized?” She glanced at Ben, feigning a look of confusion. “Though I was pretty sure you told me you’d already mentioned to Annalise about not being available for the holiday onslaught here in Rhode Island, what with our obligations this year and all?” She looked at Annalise. “He’s so sweet, trying to squeeze in every little thing. I swear, and then that magazine came out and, wow, he’s Mr. In Demand. But he can’t do everything, which I’m sure you understand. Anyway, I’ll let him take care of all that.”

  “Yes,” Annalise said, her smile looking a lot more clenched at the moment. “Why don’t you run along then? I’ll take care of this directly with Ben.”

  Fiona lifted up on her toes to kiss the side of Ben’s neck, and she whispered, “My fantasy list just got longer.”

  “Done,” he said, his smile growing wider still as he leaned down to give her a quick kiss. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.” Fiona stepped away from him, then smoothly placed her hand on Annalise’s arm as she went to step around her. “So lovely to meet you. Ben has such dear old friends.” If she put a hint of emphasis on the
word “old,” well, maybe Ben imagined it. But probably not.

  Ben watched her as she ducked around the display and even shifted slightly so he could see her cross the room and join Paul and Stephanie, already laughing a moment later.

  “You grew up with her? How come I’ve never heard of her?”

  “You weren’t particularly interested in the life I had in Maine. It was ‘old history,’ I believe you said.”

  “And she’s close with your parents?”

  Ben glanced at her, his attention and thoughts still on the amazingness that was Fiona. “Our families have known each other for a very long time.” He finally looked directly at Annalise and grinned. “They love her.”

  Annalise paused, then shifted gears and the smile returned. “You told her about me.”

  “We share our day-to-day, so yes, I mentioned that you came by the farm, and that you invited me to your parents’ holiday event.”

  Annalise moved closer. “Does she know we were together?”

  He nodded easily. “She does.”

  Annalise didn’t have a ready response for that.

  “So . . . who is she?” Annalise demanded.

  “Fiona McCrae, award-winning interior designer and middle daughter of the Blueberry Cove McCraes, one of the founding families on Pelican Bay.” That was what Annalise wanted to know. Fiona’s pedigree.

  “I meant, who is she to you? You seem rather . . . chummy. I mean, we’ve barely broken up and—”

  “You’ve been with Dr. Biff for what, a year now?”

  She folded her arms. “That’s ended.” She waited for him to ask what had happened, and when he didn’t, she added, “I expected us to move forward and he . . . waffled. As you know, I have no patience for a man who can’t make up his mind.”

  Yes, Ben thought. She’d tried every way she could to get him to put a ring on her finger. He should have mentioned that sleeping with other men didn’t really lead to success in that endeavor.

  “So, I suspect this little . . . fling, will end when you come back to Portsmouth for good?”

  He turned to look once again at Fiona, laughing with his friends, fitting in so effortlessly, like she’d been part of his life forever. Because, in all the ways that mattered . . . she had. “Not if I can help it,” he said, meaning every word, even if he hadn’t the first clue how he was going to accomplish it. He glanced at Annalise, who was following his gaze. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Biff,” he said, meaning it. “I’m sure it is only a matter of time before you meet the right guy.” He turned to look at her directly again. “But that guy isn’t me, Anna. I’m sorry.”

  “Ben—”

  “I love her,” he said, simply, honestly. If he hadn’t already been certain of it, her hilarious little performance just now with Annalise would have sealed it. Most women would have had an entirely different reaction to seeing someone who looked like Annalise trying to step in as she had. Fiona was not most women. Thank God.

  He loved her. Everything inside him seemed to lift up . . . and settle perfectly into place. It was the easiest thing he’d ever done in his life. Which made him grin. Because he had a feeling nothing else about loving Fiona McCrae was ever going to be easy. “And if she’ll have me,” he added, “I’m going to marry her.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Fiona slid gingerly onto the bar stool in the Rusty Puffin and waited while Kerry finished serving another customer.

  Her younger sister sidled down to the end of the bar where Fi sat, eyeing her with a speculative grin. “Gosh, never knew train rides could leave a person so . . . tender. I mean, I know they’re bumpy and all . . .”

  Fiona smiled sweetly. “You should be so . . . tender.”

  “Truer words,” Kerry said with a wistful smile. Then she shot Fi a sharp wink and a grin. “So . . . how was our Ben?”

  “Oh, no, that’s not going to happen,” Fiona said, then sighed wistfully. That much wasn’t feigned. “What happens on the fantasy train stays on the fantasy train.”

  Kerry pulled two glasses and filled them both with ginger ale. She slid one to Fi. “That good, huh? If I didn’t think of him like a brother, I’d actually be jealous. But since I do? Ew.”

  “For you.”

  “And for Hannah,” she said.

  “Lucky for me then that I’m the one who gets him.”

  “Well, you have me there.” She lifted her glass toward Fi, who, surprised, lifted hers and tapped it.

  “What are we toasting?”

  “Seriously? I thought no one could emit a glowier glow than Alex and Hannah, but they’ve got a reason.” She eyed Fiona, then stilled suddenly, before reaching out and grabbing Fiona’s hand. “No ring.”

  “Of course there’s no ring.” Fiona snatched her hand back. “Don’t be crazy.”

  “Well, pardon me. But apparently there’s some gene thread in our family pool that makes us up and get married to the first person who looks at us sideways.”

  Fiona was all ready with a retort, then stopped. Now she was the one with the speculative gaze. “Hmm. Sounds like sour grapes. Because no one has looked at you sideways? Or because you looked and they didn’t look back? Which, if you ask me, good riddance. Because, have you seen you?” She made an up-and-down gesture with her hand. “You’re the one other women fear will look at their man and steal him away. Well, other than maybe, Annalise Manderville. I don’t think I’ve ever met a—”

  “Whoa, hold the phone. You met Annalise? Where? At Ben’s party?”

  “You know Annalise?” Fiona asked, surprised.

  “Know her? No. Know of her, of course I do.” She frowned at Fiona. “For the sister who has been googly-eyed over Ben Campbell since birth, how is it you’re the only one who didn’t know about his every life move? I mean, his parents can’t shut up about him. I didn’t even have to ask.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe it was easier not knowing, okay?”

  Kerry stared at her for another long moment, then polished off her ginger ale and simply said, “Okay.” She turned to the sink.

  “Wait, what is that supposed to mean?”

  She turned around and looked at Fi. “I know you’re not used to me agreeing with you, but yeah, I can see where if you’re hung up on a guy, even if it was in the past, and you were just a sad, sad, pathetic little girl, and all, still you don’t really want to know who he’s involved with. Ever.” She turned back to the sink. “So, what I meant was, okay.”

  Fiona decided to change the subject. “How’s Gus?”

  Kerry snorted as she stacked the glasses she was washing on the shelf above the sink to drain. “How do you think? A major pain in the ass. He assumes he’s already fine, just fine, thank you very much, and if we would all just get out of his hair, he could get back to running the world.”

  Fiona smiled and sipped her ginger ale. “Sounds just like him. That means he’s getting better.”

  Gus had been allowed to come home from the hospital the day before Fiona had left for Portsmouth with Ben. She’d seriously considered not going, but Hannah had all but personally shoved her all the way to the train station. She and Logan both felt that Fiona had taken on the lion’s share of coordinating and handling everything while Gus had been in the hospital, which was true, but she’d been the one without pressing daily work demands. So, it had made sense. While she’d been away with Ben, her three remaining siblings had hired an in-home nurse who came daily, and had set up his physical therapy sessions, which, frankly, having heard about the fuss he put up before going to the first one, Fiona was thankful she hadn’t had to witness.

  Hannah had given her the recap over the phone the night before on the drive back from Snowflake Bay. She and Ben had gone straight there from the train station so she could drive her car back to the Cove now that the roads were well clear. She still had his dad’s truck at the cottage, too, but he said one of his guys at the tree stand could drive it back out to the farm, or she could just hold on to it in case it
stormed again, which, of course, it would.

  “Hannah told me his facial paralysis has continued to improve,” Fiona said.

  Kerry stopped washing and dried her hands on the towel tucked into the apron strings she’d tied around her waist and knotted in the front. “He still has a little droop at the corner of his left eye, but his mouth and cheek are almost back to where you can’t tell. And I have to say, if anything was going to self-correct, I’m really glad it was his mouth, because not being able to speak properly was the thing that really sent him around the bend the fastest. Of course, his left hand is still not functioning right and I know his left hip and knee aren’t 100 percent in sync, either.” She looked at her sister and said more quietly. “I don’t know if that will improve or not, Fi. And he needs it to, in order to run the bar.”

  “He has you,” Fiona said, then added, “And when he doesn’t have you, he can hire someone. Your doing what you have has already proven to him that he can use the help. I just hope whoever he gets can live with his temperament.”

  Kerry nodded, and Fiona wanted to ask her what her plans were for after the wedding, but decided to stick to the topic of Gus. “How’s he doing cognitively?”

  “He still gets confused. He forgets words sometimes and he has gaps in the things he remembers and the things he doesn’t. His therapist said that might improve, or not. Time will tell. He doesn’t seem to have fully lost any mental capability, which is the most wonderful thing.”

  “And his health otherwise?”

  “Other than what I’ve already mentioned? Oh, he’s fine. Fit as a fiddle. Just ask him.”

  Fiona smiled at that. “He’s not down here helping you at the bar, is he? I thought the doctors said he was to rest and focus on the PT for his hand, and his leg, and the cognitive parts they’re working on.”

  “Well, all his body parts might function okay, but he wears out really fast, so while he talks a big game, he still sleeps a good part of the day.”

 

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