“The dog knows Chase, and maybe he knows the girlfriend. You know how that mutt is. He’s everyone’s friend, and he’s not going to just haul off and start barking for no reason.” He said exactly what she was thinking, and she tried really hard not to glance at her watch.
She was late, getting later every minute, but she loved Nehemiah, and she didn’t have the heart to cut the conversation short. “I guess if Chase has a girlfriend, that’s his business, Nehemiah. He’s an adult. He can do what he wants.”
He nodded, running a hand over his hair and squinting up at the still-dark sky. “You’re right about that, Addie, but like I said, I’ve been thinking that maybe he needs a man to talk to him about the important things in a relationship.”
“What things?”
“How to treat a lady right, for one. How to make her feel like she matters. How to stand by her when no one else will.”
His words were oddly reminiscent of the ones Sinclair had spoken on the way home from the hospital. Words she’d tried really hard to forget, because every time she remembered them, her heart went soft and she forgot why she wanted to stay single, why making an attempt at a relationship wasn’t a good idea.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be hurt again. Or, not for the most part, anyway. It was just that the pain of a relationship gone wrong wasn’t worth whatever the relationship provided. Companionship, friendship, shared experiences—she could have those with anyone. She didn’t need a man to fill a place in her life.
Of course, if she were going to have one filling a space, she’d want Sinclair. In a big way. In a huge way. In a “my life is going to change forever because of him” way.
“If you want to talk to him,” she said, pushing thoughts of Sinclair out of her head, “go ahead.”
“You don’t think he’ll get defensive? Some kids his age would.”
“Chase isn’t like that.” Not that she’d seen, and they’d been working together for hours at a time. Unlike a lot of kids his age, he took instruction well and seemed eager to learn everything he could about how to run a business. He had no attitude, no arrogance, and there’d been more than one occasion when she’d wished his mother was around so that Adeline could tell her what a great job she’d done.
Chase was making his mother proud, and that made Adeline smile. Which was nice, because she’d been up most of the night trying to smooth out the tiny puckers in the new dress zipper, pacing her room wishing to God she didn’t have to attend the wedding, and praying that Sinclair didn’t really expect to go with her.
He hadn’t mentioned it in the past couple of days. But then, she’d been avoiding him the same way she’d been avoiding her mother.
“Good. Great. I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Thanks, Addie. I’ll see you at the wedding.”
“You sure will,” she murmured as he shuffled back inside.
As soon as his door closed, she was in the car, backing out of the driveway again. Not many people were on the road this time of the morning, and she made it to Janelle’s house in a minute flat.
Which was twenty minutes late.
The door opened as she got out of the car, and Brenna ran outside, her hair perfect, her makeup gorgeous, her jeans so tight Addie wasn’t quite sure how she’d managed to slide into them.
“Get in the car!” she shouted as she raced across the yard.
“What?!”
“In. The. Car,” her sister enunciated. “Hurry.”
“Why?”
“Because I have got to get some coffee. Some real stuff. Not that decaf organic crap Mom buys to impress the guys.”
Coffee was coffee to Addie, but she got back in the car and unlocked the passenger door.
Brenna eyed the pile of orange satin lying on the passenger seat, lifted the dress, and examined it.
“Good God!” she breathed.
“I know.”
“You’re actually going to wear that?”
“I am.”
“In front of everyone in town?” She laid the dress on the backseat and climbed in beside Addie, her coat lined with faux fur, her leather gloves the soft kind that cost a fortune. Even at around six in the morning, she looked perfect.
Addie, on the other hand, had dark circles under her eyes, not a stitch of makeup on her face, and was wearing clothes that she’d bought on sale right after Christmas three years ago.
“Yes.”
“You are a much braver woman than I am.” Brenna yanked the seat belt across her lap and buckled it, some soft, subtle, flowery perfume filling the car as she moved.
“Or a much stupider one,” Addie responded.
“She’s May. You couldn’t have said no.”
“Exactly.”
“Don’t worry, kid. You’ll make it work.”
“Kid? I’m nearly two years older than you.”
“You’re still a kid, because if you’re grown up and mature, then I guess I have to be too.”
Addie laughed, a dozen memories filling her head: late nights lying next to Brenna, both of them huddled in the same bed, whispering about all the wonderful things they wanted to do with their lives. Sunny days sitting in the gazebo, sharing lunch and secrets. She’d almost forgotten about those sweet days, about the way things had been before their father was diagnosed with brain cancer.
She eyed her sister—the perfect hair and makeup and body, the fancy ring and expensive clothes. Beneath it all, she was still Brenna, and Adeline missed the time they had once spent together.
“What?” Brenna asked. “Do I have something on my face?”
“I was just thinking about how close we used to be.”
“Funny, I was thinking that too. The other night, I was sitting in the gazebo, remembering the fun we had there. I’ve missed you, Adeline.”
“Not enough to come home.”
“That has nothing to do with love. I hope you know that.” She touched Adeline’s arm.
“I do.” But it would have been nice to think that Brenna would return one day, that she could find her place in Benevolence the same way Adeline had. “I just wish that we didn’t live so far apart. You’ve grown up and become mature, and we were apart during most of that.”
“I know. I wish things could have been different, but . . . I had to leave. I couldn’t stay here with the shadow of Dad’s death hanging over me.”
“Is that how it felt?” she asked as she drove toward the Daily Grind.
“I guess it did, but like you said, I’ve matured a lot. Maybe I was just selfish. Speaking of which . . . Sinclair Jefferson. Talk about growing up and maturing! Wow!”
“Wow what?”
“Don’t play dumb, Addie. That man is hot, and he’s smart, rich, accomplished. Altogether a good catch.”
“You’re in the market for a new guy?” Addie said, only half joking.
She expected Brenna to laugh the comment off, but her sister was silent as a tomb.
Addie waited as she turned onto Main Street, followed the road to Madison, and pulled up to the Daily Grind. No line this time of morning, but the light from the small coffee shop glowed softly. She pulled into their drive-through window, ordered six coffees—just in case other people in the house needed caffeine—and Brenna still hadn’t said a word.
She handed the coffees to Brenna and drove back onto Main Street, the silence as thick as pea soup.
“You are in the market for a new guy,” she accused, and Brenna shrugged, her hair pulled into a perfect chignon, her diamond earrings gleaming in the dashboard light.
“Oh my God! You are!” Addie repeated, and Brenna’s face crumbled.
“If you say one word to anyone about this, I will never forgive you,” she muttered.
“About what? What is going on?” Addie pulled into Chocolate Haven’s parking lot and stopped the car.
“He’s cheating on me,” Brenna said, her voice cracking.
“Dan?” She sounded like an idiot. She knew she did. But she couldn’t believe that
anyone would cheat on Brenna.
“What other asshole have I spent four years trying to please?” Brenna retorted. “I’ve been suspecting it for a while, so I hired a private detective—”
“You didn’t.”
“I did. She e-mailed me a bunch of stuff last night. Pictures and e-mails and receipts. I don’t know what I’m going to do with all of it.”
“Break up with the bastard,” Addie said.
“It’s not that easy.”
“It is exactly as easy as you want to make it,” Addie insisted. “If you don’t want to face him—”
“Face him? We’re attending the wedding together.”
“Brenna, no. Just no.”
“Mom expects it.”
“Who cares?”
“I do. I’ve always been a disappointment to her, and I’m not going to make it worse by going to this damn wedding by myself.”
“There are plenty of other people you could go with.”
“None of them are my fiancé.”
That did it. That was it. Enough was enough. Adeline was a lot of things, but she wasn’t someone who was going to sit around and watch her sister make a colossal mistake. “You are breaking up with him. This morning. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. You’re going in the house, you’re telling him to pack his bags, and you’re kicking him out.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Then I’ll do it.”
Brenna huffed. “I’m not so much of a coward that I need my big sister to break up for me. I just want to wait until after the wedding, because Mom will be disappointed and she won’t be able to hide it, and I’m not going to ruin May’s day by making it about me and my poor choices in men.”
“Just lie. Tell Mom that he got called away on business. He’s a big-shot doctor. Surely someone somewhere needs a boob job, stat.”
Brenna laughed. “Oh my God, Addie, I’ve missed you so much.”
She leaned across the seat, pulled Adeline in for a hug.
They sat like that until Adeline’s phone buzzed.
She backed up, her throat tight as she looked into Brenna’s eyes. “It’s Mom. I don’t even have to look to know it. What are you going to do?”
“Text him and tell him to make his excuses and leave. I’ve got the goods on him, and since the woman he was with was one of his clients, it could ruin him. If he makes a scene, I’ll do it.”
“No, you won’t.”
“He doesn’t know that.” Brenna pulled out her cell phone and texted rapidly.
Adeline waited until she finished, then handed her a cup of coffee. “Drink up. You’re going to need it.”
“I’m going to need something a lot stronger than this,” she replied, taking a sip and then grabbing Addie’s hand.
She held on tight as Addie pulled onto the road and headed back to Janelle’s.
* * *
Sinclair’s leg hurt like hell, his head ached, and he’d been up most of the night fighting the demons. They were still chasing him as he cleared out the last of the upstairs bedroom, piled garbage into the Dumpster, and walked back into his grandfather’s house.
It was still a mess, but it was clean, the smell of decay and rotting wood gone. No more mildew or mold downstairs. Gavin had done a fair job pulling down old plaster walls so that the wallboards could dry.
Sinclair had a team coming in on Monday to make sure the mold was eradicated. It was a big job and a very expensive one, but there was no way he could have Lauren move in with a baby if it wasn’t done right.
“Lookin’ good, bro. Right?” Gavin said as he walked down the stairs, a pile of old books in his arms, Tiny following along behind.
“Better than it did.”
“Lauren is going to love it. I can’t wait to show her.”
“You’re going to have to. The mold team doesn’t come in until Monday.”
“After that, I’ll bring her through. Maybe seeing it like this will convince her to move back.” He set the books on an old sideboard that they’d pulled from the kitchen. Probably dating from the mid-nineteenth century, it took up one wall of the foyer, the old wood dinged and damaged but still beautiful.
“We’ve come a long way, Gavin, but there’s still a lot of work to do.”
“I know it. I’m going to finish the kitchen floor while you’re at the wedding. Then I’ll start on the hallway upstairs.”
“Or watch a ball game and drink a couple of beers?”
Gavin scowled, his normally cheerful expression gone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You were supposed to finish the kitchen floor last night.” He shouldn’t have pointed it out. Gavin had been working hard for most of the week, cleaning things out, taking Tiny for walks, doing everything he could to live up to Sinclair’s expectations.
“I was at Lamaze classes with Lauren,” he snapped, his dark eyes flashing. “When I got back, I decided to finish the sitting room. I’m pretty damn sure I told you that when you got here this morning, and I’m pretty damn sure you said I did a good job.”
“You could have done both,” Sinclair responded, digging himself deeper into the fight, and he wasn’t even sure why.
“I’m not you, bro. Not some perfect working machine who never takes a break because he’s too busy proving himself to people who don’t matter to prove to the people who do that he’s actually a human being,” Gavin growled. “I’ll go do the floor now. I’ll do the hallway too, and when you get back here tomorrow morning, don’t say one damn word to me.”
He stomped away, and Sinclair almost followed him.
He needed to apologize, but Gavin was as hotheaded as their grandfather had been. Easygoing until he wasn’t, and then he’d be completely unreasonable until he calmed down enough to think clearly.
He’d come back after the wedding, bring a pizza and an apology.
Hopefully, they’d both be in better moods by then.
He took the drive home a little too quickly, speeding along the quiet country road and into town. Chocolate Haven was still open when he arrived, and he could see Chase through the storefront window ringing up a customer.
He didn’t stop in to say hello, just pulled around to the back, jogged up the stairs and into the apartment. He’d had his assistant ship one of his suits from Seattle. He pulled it from the closet, took a quick shower and got dressed, his bum leg aching the entire time.
He wanted to pop a pain pill, crawl into bed, and forget everything for a while, but he’d given up the narcotics around the same time he’d given up alcohol.
Plus, he had a date with Adeline to keep.
One that he thought she might be hoping he’d forgotten.
She’d been avoiding him since the kiss, sending Chase up to the apartment with the dog each morning, hiding in the kitchen anytime he entered the shop.
He wanted to know why, and he planned to find out.
Tonight was as good a time as any. Neither of them was working. Both of them were going to be at the wedding. Together. Because that was what they’d agreed to at the hospital, and Sinclair always did what he said he was going to.
He tugged his tie into place, eyed himself in the mirror.
He should have shaved, but he figured Adeline was at May’s house getting gussied up for the wedding that was starting in less than an hour. According to Janelle, the wedding party was spending the entire day together, leaving the house at four thirty for the five o’clock nuptials.
He glanced at his watch.
He planned to pick Adeline up at May’s house and drive her to the church. He planned to walk her in and let the entire town of Benevolence know they were together.
That was for her. Not because she needed it, but because she thought she did. Sure, she gave lip service to confidence and said she didn’t care what anyone thought, but he’d seen her list, and he knew what she valued. What she valued was pleasing the people she loved.
This was going to please Janelle. It was going to please old Nehemiah an
d May and, probably, Adeline’s sisters.
It was also going to please Sinclair, because he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the way her lips had tasted, the silky smoothness of her skin, the feeling of her soft curves melting against his body.
He pulled up in front of May’s house and got out of the truck, strode across a lawn that had been landscaped to within an inch of its life. Every blade of grass was the same height; every bush, every plant had been matched exactly with another bush or plant. There were roses, cherry trees, something that looked like forsythia.
The door opened before he reached the front porch, and Janelle ran out. Dressed in a navy dress that might have been a little too short for a woman her age, she hurried down the porch stairs. “Thank goodness you came, Sinclair. I’ve been worried sick.”
“About?”
“Brenna’s fiancé had to leave very suddenly this morning. Some kind of emergency.”
“Hopefully not life and death,” he said. He hadn’t liked Dan, but he didn’t wish the guy ill.
“I think one of his highbrow clients was demanding some work. That poor man. It’s difficult being a doctor.”
“I’m sure it is.”
“The problem is,” Janelle continued, “now Brenna doesn’t have anyone to take her to the wedding.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he responded as the door opened and Adeline walked onto the porch.
His heart stopped. He could swear it did. Stopped and stood still in his chest and then started back up again, speeding along at a pace that surprised him.
She smiled, her hair in some odd style that puffed up from the top of her head, her makeup garish on her pale skin. She looked like a rodeo clown, dressed in the brightest, most eye-searing outfit possible.
And she looked absolutely beautiful, her eyes still that same violet blue, her lips just as kissable beneath bright red lipstick. He wanted to grab a napkin, wipe the red off, and see the natural pink beneath. He wanted to tell her how gorgeous she looked, all her curves hugged by satiny fabric, but Janelle was still talking, saying something about how bad it would look for Brenna to attend the wedding alone.
Sweet Haven Page 22
