A Wedding in Maine

by Jen McLaughlin

  “Yeah?” Paul asked, crossing his arms. “And where the hell was he tonight while you were getting attacked?”

  I gritted my teeth, not answering him, because it was none of his damn business where Jeremy had been.…

  Or what he’d been doing.

  Chapter 14

  The truck slid on a patch of snow as he pulled up the driveway, and Jeremy tightened his grip on the wheel, cursing under his breath. The snow tires on his truck weren’t doing much for him. Besides, it was after midnight and he could scarcely see ten feet in front of him.

  He was frustrated. He’d just gotten some upsetting news from his old supervisor and he didn’t feel like things were safe at the inn. Most of all, he was 100 percent done with all this bullshit. He needed to protect his woman.

  He’d spoken to Chelsea several times over the past two hours. She kept him posted about what the doc said and how her brother continued to hover, but it wasn’t enough.

  He had to see her.

  Chels was his life. His heart. His home.

  Someone had assaulted his home.

  And he’d fucking kill them.

  After he held her in his arms.

  He parked next to Chelsea’s car, opened the truck door, and raced up the driveway, his heart pounding. The second his foot hit the porch, the front door opened, and there she was. His Chelsea. He did a quick once-over of her, searching for any injuries. Thank God. It came up empty, aside from the fear shadowing her eyes. He held his arms open, and she launched herself into them. Jeremy hugged her tight, breathing in her sweet flower scent and closing his eyes for a second. “I’m sorry, Chels.”

  She nodded against his chest. “It’s not your fault.”

  And, apparently, it’s not your father’s, either.

  He locked eyes with Paul, nodding his thanks once.

  The other man nodded back.

  “Did he hurt you?”

  She shook her head again, fisting his shirt.

  Paul stepped forward. “Time for me to ask some questions. Who the hell is messing with my baby sister? What are we going to do to stop him?”

  “We?” Jeremy asked slowly.

  “Yes. We. You’ve shown us that you can’t handle the job on your own.” He crossed his arms. “Look, I still don’t like that you lied to her, but it’s clear you love her. I can’t complain about that…so let’s figure out who’s after her.”

  Chelsea let Jeremy go, and turned to face Paul. She glanced at her fiancé once, and he nodded his agreement. It was time to fill Paul in. Maybe he’d be able to give them some inside information. “At first we thought it was Richard, but he was ruled out. Then I thought maybe Dad—”

  “It’s not Dad,” Paul said, his shoulders stiffening. “He might have done some shady things in his past, but he’s our father. He wouldn’t attack you.”

  “He would if it benefitted him,” Chelsea said, jutting out her chin.

  “Are you shitting me right now?”

  “We’re obviously not going to agree on this. The thing is, he was either in jail or with you today, so clearly he didn’t attack me…tonight.”

  Paul shoved his hands in his pockets and lowered his head. “Okay, so who’s doing this?”

  “Actually,” Jeremy spoke up, “I went into Bangor today and had dinner with my old supervisor, Agent Thomas. He’s currently digging into a local crime family. The Sullivans.” He eyed Paul’s lowered head. “Recognize that name?”

  Paul nodded, lifting his head and flexing his jaw. “Yeah, but you already knew that, huh?”

  Chelsea shoved her hair out of her face. “Dad used to be buddies with the family, but something went down. After that, we were told if we ever saw a Sullivan attached to a project, to turn the other way.”

  “That’s what Agent Thomas said. There’s bad blood reaching back twenty-four years now. The DEA has a theory that one turned on the other during a drug run, but it’s never been proven, and we don’t know who did what.”

  Paul frowned. “But why would they suddenly be coming after Chelsea after years of nothing? That makes no sense.”

  “There are suspicions that your dad took something from the Sullivans before he got locked away and they never found where he hid it. Now that he’s out, the Sullivans might be pressing him for it, and won’t take no for an answer.”

  “How dangerous are they?” Chelsea asked slowly.

  Jeremy met Paul’s gaze, who looked considerably paler than before. “Well, it depends on how you look at it. On a national scale, the Sullivans are the definition of small potatoes, but in Maine, they’re major players. Anything organized—prostitution, racketeering, protection, the drug trade—they have a piece of it. Compared to the Sullivans, your dad is a guppy, especially since he’s been out of the game for so long. If he doesn’t return what he stole, the Sullivans will do whatever it takes to get it back, including…”

  Then he turned to look his fiancée directly in the eyes and said, “Using you as leverage.”

  Chapter 15

  The next morning, we left the florist’s shop under a heavy cloud of silence. I distracted myself by picking out the flowers—pink valley valentines—for our wedding. That cheered me up for a bit. But as soon as I walked out the door, a cold, hard reality set back in.

  My mind was on my dad’s beef with the Sullivans again. Since my safety was at stake, I had a feeling Paul would do anything he could to pry Dad for information.

  But honestly, he shouldn’t bother. Dad wouldn’t talk unless he wanted to. Even if his daughter’s life was on the line.

  There always had to be something in it for him.

  “Chelsea,” I heard Dad’s voice call my name.

  I stiffened, turning slowly, and let out a long internal groan. “Dad.”

  “Jeremy.” Dad straightened his knit cap and shrugged inside his winter coat, holding an oil-stained hand out for Jeremy to shake, frowning. “You’ve grown, son.”

  Jeremy took his hand, giving him a tight smile. “Ten years will do that to a man.”

  “Is that how long it’s been?” Dad asked, stepping back.

  “Ye—”

  “Drop the niceties,” I said to Dad, tugging Jeremy back to my side. “And tell us what you took from the Sullivans.”

  Dad closed down. No emotion. No fear. Nothing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “They’re coming after me. My inn. Our home.” I lifted my chin and grasped Jeremy’s hand. “If you ever cared about me, you’ll fix this. You’ll give them whatever they want.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dad repeated slowly.

  I laughed. “Of course you’d say that. Don’t show your cards until you see the size of the pot, right? Only this time, you’re gambling with our lives.”

  “Chelsea…” Dad started, his tone hard as stone.

  “Don’t. If you refuse to give them what they want—”

  “You have no idea what you’re asking me to do,” he interrupted gruffly.

  “I knew it. You did take something.”

  “No.” He clammed up, admitting nothing.

  How typical.

  If Dad was already buried in this mess, and he only just got out of jail yesterday, then he needed to stay the hell away from us and our inn. And I refused to let Jeremy get dragged into this dangerous situation for another second. He shouldn’t have to keep risking his life just because he loved me.

  Besides, Dad was already out of my life before this happened.

  Now he’d stay that way.

  I held up a hand. “Fine. You want to be like that? Knock yourself out. I don’t care. But if you want to risk your life to run a scam on the Sullivans, then make it crystal clear I’m not in your life. That hurting me won’t hurt you a bit. It shouldn’t be very hard.”

  “They won’t believe me.”

  I let out a sarcastic laugh. Did my father seriously think I’d buy a line like that after the way he’d ignored me when I was growing
up? “Make them believe it. Stay away from us. Don’t call. Don’t text. Don’t stop by unannounced. Ignore us if you pass us in town. Like you used to.”

  Then I caught Jeremy’s hand and we walked away. Jeremy glanced over his shoulder. “Chels—”

  “Don’t Chels me. I’m fine.”

  As we made our way home in Jeremy’s truck, I slowly lost the tension in my shoulders, while he stayed silent the whole time. He was good at that. At knowing when to shut up and when to press me. When I let out a sigh, Jeremy side-eyed me as he navigated down the icy road that led to our inn. “Are you okay?” he said quietly.

  “Yes. You?”

  “I’m happy if you’re happy. But you don’t have to—” Jeremy cut off midsentence when his phone rang over the Bluetooth system. “Shit, hold on. I need to take this.” He pressed the Talk button on his steering wheel. “Charlie! My man.”

  “Hey, Jer.” A man who was apparently named Charlie said jovially. “What’s up?”

  I mouthed Jer at Jeremy, and he rolled his eyes before saying, “Still own that security company?”

  “Best in the business. Why? You need something?”

  Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck. “I need the highest rated security system you have for residences. Cameras. Alarms. Full surveillance. You name it, I want it. And I’ll pay cash and a bonus if you start tomorrow.”

  I leaned back in the truck seat.

  Silence, and then, “Where?”

  “My home,” he said, sliding the truck back into park. “The McCullagh Inn.”

  “I’ll be there at nine thirty in the morning.”

  They hung up and Jeremy glanced at me. “Well, now we’ve taken one precaution against the Sullivans.”

  “We need more.” I took a deep breath. “We need to make it clear we are not associated with my father in any way, shape, or form.”

  Jeremy tightened his grip on the wheel. “You don’t have to separate yourself from him like that.”

  “But I want to.” I shook my head. “He’s not worth the trouble.”

  Jeremy remained silent, staring straight ahead stonily. I could tell he was worried I might regret my decision, but he was wrong. I had no room in my life for Johnny O’Kane. Besides, it wasn’t like I was missing out on anything. All I needed was Paul, the inn, and, most importantly, Jeremy.

  They were all I needed to be happy.

  Chapter 16

  The next morning, as we lay in bed together, the morning sun crept through the edges of the blinds, brightening the otherwise dark room. I was in the middle of a crazy, emotional whirlwind of crap, and the only thing getting me through this disaster called life was the man who held me in his arms like I was the greatest treasure on earth. Sometimes I actually believed I was.

  God, that was corny, especially for a girl like me.

  But that didn’t make it any less true.

  Jeremy played with my hair and sighed, slowly turning those bright-green eyes my way, pulling me back into the present. His brown hair was messy, sticking up in places it shouldn’t. “Let’s make this cake choice, so I have time to stop by the county clerk’s office on my way home from the bakery. That way, I can see what’s up with that property you want.”

  I fidgeted with the sheet draped over my chest, suddenly feeling hesitant about the plan I’d come up with. “Do you think purchasing the lot next to ours is a good idea right now, with everything else going on? Or am I nervous for no reason?”

  “It’s absolutely a good idea. You said it yourself: Once we’re having weddings here, we’re going to want to put in a pool to make this place the best inn in Maine. Maybe a hot tub, too.” He smiled at me, and lifted another forkful of delicious cake for me to try. “Open up.”

  I opened my mouth obediently.

  When he’d suggested we lay in bed this morning and munch on our wedding cake samples instead of breakfast, I quickly realized the genius of the suggestion. So I upped the stakes and stripped, slid between the sheets, and entered heaven on Earth.

  He slid a fork filled with vanilla cake and buttercream icing in my mouth. I chewed and closed my eyes, moaning slightly. After I swallowed, he leaned in and kissed me, getting a surprised laugh out of me. When he pulled back, I grinned and said, “This one gets my vote.”

  He tried a bite, too, swallowing with a sexy groan. “I agree.”

  “Really?” Grinning, I swiped my finger over his lip, wiping away a smear of icing. “You like it better than the chocolate with buttercream?”

  “Chocolate is harder to get out of white dresses,” he said, sliding the empty plate onto the nightstand.

  “Hey! I’m not that much of a clumsy eater, so I don’t see why…” I broke off, my jaw dropping. “Oh no. No way. We’re not doing the ‘cake smashing into each other’s faces’ thing.”

  He laughed and rolled me underneath him, pinning my arms on either side of my head. “Oh yes we are.”

  I shook my head. “Nuh-uh. You’ll win. You’ll duck out of the way too quickly and I won’t even get any on you. No way. Not playing.”

  He laughed, burying his face in my neck and nibbling on the skin there. “But babe, we have to. It’s a traditional wedding ritual, and we want to show our guests that we can provide the whole package, right?”

  Groaning, I arched my neck to allow him better access. He dipped lower, nipping the curve of my bare breast. “Damn you, you’re right.”

  “I’d say I would take it easy on you, but we all know how much you hate pity.…”

  I slapped his bare butt, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. “I hate you.”

  “No, you don’t.” He slid down my body, taking a nipple in his mouth. “You love me.”

  Threading my hands through his hair, I let my eyes close as he dipped lower and lower over my body. Moments like these were the only things that kept me sane right now, especially given my current circumstances.

  Being with Jeremy offered me small slices of normalcy in a world full of crazy.

  “I especially love when you do that,” I said, ending on a groan when he traced his fingers down my body. His mouth closed over me, and he worshipped my body tenderly, with only a hint of desperation tinging the otherwise romantic moment. When we finished, he rose on his elbows, studying me closely. His stubble was dark along his perfect jaw, and his perfect kissable lips, and his perfect skin. Everything about him was perfection, and I was only…me.

  It still didn’t make any sense.

  Him loving me.

  “We’re going to be okay, Chels.”

  “I know.” I bit down on my lower lip. “But—”

  The doorbell rang, cutting me off. My heart immediately leapt, and I hated that my first reaction to someone on my porch was now fear. I’d been here before. I didn’t want to be back.

  “Shit, I forgot.” Jeremy cursed, jumping out of bed and heading for the dresser. “It must be nine thirty.”

  Guess that meant the security company was here.

  I followed Jeremy out of bed, pulling a shirt over my head. I checked the clock as I stepped into my leggings and covered a yawn with my hand.

  He smoothed his hair, and shot me a smile. “You should get some rest, I’ll deal with them.”

  I blinked, because sleep sounded excellent. Last night I’d been too worried to sleep. Yawning, I let Jeremy lead me to the bed. He pulled the covers back, and gently pushed me down. I cooperated, lying on my side. I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore, with all that yummy cake filling my belly, so making him happy by letting him care for me was only a nice bonus. I was a giver like that.

  “Once Charlie’s done,” he said, “this place will be locked up tighter than Fort Knox. No one will get in unless we want them to, and no one will ever hurt you again.”

  I curled my arm under my pillow and tried my best to smile as he tucked me in and kissed my temple. I didn’t put much stock in alarm systems, seeing as I’d watched my dad’s crew break through basically every kind of security in existenc
e. “And if they somehow get in anyway?”

  “Then they’ll answer to me,” he said with steely determination, opening the gun safe by the bed, and sliding his Glock into position on his hip. I hadn’t even seen him put his holster on. “They’ll find out that I’m not so easy to get past. Either way, you’ll be safe.”

  After he left the room to let Charlie in, I stared at the gun safe, shivering slightly even though he’d covered me up. “But who will keep you safe?” I asked the empty room, my voice a mere whisper. There was only one answer.

  Me.

  Chapter 17

  Even though Jeremy had planned to stop by the county clerk’s office three days ago, life had gotten in the way, and he was just getting around to it now. Since Chelsea had ordered her father to stay away from them, and they’d put up the new security system, things had been quiet. No break-ins. No papers missing or moved. No unlocked doors that should’ve been locked.

  All in all, life had been peaceful.

  Some people might say whoever had broken into their inn had found what they were looking for. That the danger was gone. Some people might let their guard down, start to make careless mistakes. But Jeremy Holland wasn’t just anyone. And he didn’t like mistakes.

  According to his buddy at the DEA, one of the Sullivans had cornered Chelsea’s father at his favorite bar last night and had issued an ultimatum. He had a week to give them back what he stole or they’d start killing off everyone he loved. Which was ironic, because according to Chelsea, the only person Johnny O’Kane truly loved was himself.

  But the Sullivans would assume he loved his kids.

  No one was safe.

  Jeremy pulled into the county clerk’s office and parked in the shade. Only sheer willpower kept him from turning left instead, so he could head out to the Sullivan mansion and confront them. He didn’t like being in this holding pattern, waiting for something to happen. He preferred to go after his problems.

  This didn’t feel right. Waiting.

  But Jeremy wasn’t an agent anymore, and he was reduced to begging for updates from his buddies who were on the Sullivan-O’Kane case. Gritting his teeth, he pulled up next to a light-colored truck. His phone buzzed, and he checked it. It was a text from Chelsea. Don’t forget to find out if there are any liens on the property. It’ll slow things down too much if there are.