Suddenly Last Summer

by Sarah Morgan

  “It is good to have passion.”

  “I’m not disagreeing with you. In fact, I rate passion above almost every other quality.” His eyes met hers and the atmosphere shifted. The force of the connection shook her.

  Putting her fork down, she told herself that physical compatibility had nothing to do with emotional engagement.

  “It is not always good. When I love something I love it totally. I’ve never been good at half measures.”

  And that, she thought, was her problem.

  His gaze lingered on hers for a moment. “You sound like Tyler. He said much the same thing when he threw himself off vertical cliffs at the age of six without first checking his landing.” With that simple revelation he steered the conversation back onto comfortable ground.

  “You have a passion for surgery.”

  “I wouldn’t describe it that way.” He helped himself to more salad. “I have an intellectual interest in being able to fix something that is broken.”

  “Including my deck?”

  “That, too.” He piled more salad on her plate and she shook her head.

  “No more. I’m not hungry.”

  “You should eat and this salad is homegrown.”

  “You don’t need to lecture me on nutrition.”

  “Good. Then eat.”

  “This place is your grandfather’s passion.”

  “I’d call it an obsession. It makes it impossible for him to understand that other people might not feel the same way.”

  “Did your father?”

  He stilled. “He loved Snow Crystal, but he hated the work. The irony was that working here stopped him from enjoying the place. He was too busy keeping it going to make the most of what it offered. He and Gramps clashed over it constantly when we were growing up.”

  “Walter loves it with every piece of himself. I understand that because I feel the same way and I have only lived here for two years.”

  “I admit I don’t get it.” Sean picked up his glass. “You’re a sexy, clever, confident woman. Why are you burying yourself in a sleepy resort in Vermont when you could be in Paris?”

  “Why do the guests of Snow Crystal deserve less than the inhabitants of Paris? In Paris you can find good restaurants on every corner. Here, that is not true. Should people here not eat well?” Her anger flashed fast and intense. “I do not feel buried, and if you keep making stupid statements like that you will be the one who is buried. I will hide your body under the deck and no one will ever know.”

  Sean sat still, watching her across the table with eyes that saw too much. “I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

  She forced herself to breathe, knowing it was the mention of Paris that had triggered the anger. “If you don’t want to see me angry then don’t ever criticize something or someone I love.”

  “Was it a criticism? I described the place as sleepy. In comparison to Paris, Snow Crystal is sleepy, Élise. That’s a fact.”

  “If that is the case then I will sleep for the rest of my life.” She put her fork down with a clatter. “You are making me boil inside so now we must talk about something else. Something normal, that doesn’t make me want to kill you. Tell me something else you like about this place apart from the skiing.”

  “Swimming in the lake. It was always fun pushing Tyler under water. What about you?” His voice softened. “Tell me more about your mother. She taught you to cook?”

  The anger left her in a rush.

  “Some mothers don’t let their children in the kitchen because of the mess, but my mother believed the mess was part of creativity. She used to stand me on a chair next to her and let me put my hands in the bowl and mix just like her. It fascinated me, that butter and flour rubbed together could turn into a fine powder. That an egg broken into flour and mixed with milk could make a thick batter. I loved the idea that two different things mixed together like that could produce something that didn’t resemble the original.”

  “You said she was a pastry chef?”

  “She worked in a bakery. And at home we baked together. There is nothing as comforting as baking. And she taught me to trust my instincts. She never used a recipe book. She cooked by feel and instinct, using her senses. She was very talented. She was the one who taught me that fresh is best. We grew herbs in tubs on our windows and salad in pots in the kitchen. It is one of the things I love about this area. People love using locally grown foods. Here we have farmers and chefs working together and we never had that in Paris. In Paris I could not go to the farm and meet the people and see the food. It is very exciting.”

  “Did your mother know you got a job with Pascal Laroche?”

  “Yes.” Emotion twisted deep in her gut and she felt her throat thicken. “She knew that.”

  The rest of it, she hadn’t known. And that was a relief. Her mother had witnessed plenty of her mistakes, but she hadn’t known about the biggest mistake of all.

  “I visited Paris once.”

  Grateful for the change of subject, she wondered if he’d guessed how close to the edge she was. “When?”

  “I was eighteen. Before medical school. I did a trip to Europe. I spent a month in England with my mother’s family and then traveled around a bit. Florence, Rome, Seville and Paris. I saw the Eiffel Tower.”

  “That is for tourists. If you’d come to Paris with me I would not have taken you there.”

  “So where would you take me?”

  She wouldn’t, because she had no intention of going back to Paris, but this was hypothetical, not reality. “I love the Jardin des Tuileries first thing in the morning before the city wakes up. I love watching the sun rise over the Louvre, and I love the little backstreets in the Marais district.” She thought of the elegance of the buildings, of window boxes stuffed full of tumbling color. “I like to walk around the out-of-the-way streets of Paris and find a little bakery making fresh perfect bread. I love to go to the Musée de l’Orangerie to see Monet. What is your favorite place in Snow Crystal?”

  “I don’t have a favorite place.”

  “Of course you do. For me it is the lake and the forest. I like to sleep with the windows open so that I can hear the sounds and smell the air.”

  “Do I have a favorite place?” He drummed the table with his fingers, thinking. “I suppose it would be the mountains. Have you ever climbed to the top of the ridge? Takes about four hours from here. When we were kids Gramps used to make us pack up a tent, walk up to the ridge and camp overnight. In the morning we’d watch the sun rise over the mountains, wash in the stream and find our way home.”

  “You camped?” Thinking about Sean camping made her laugh, sadness and anger forgotten.

  “Don’t look so surprised. I could light a fire with nothing more than a hot look.” He was laughing, too. “I admit I haven’t done it for a couple of decades. I might need matches now. And a sprung mattress would be nice. And hot and cold running water and possibly room service.”

  “That sounds more like a five-star hotel than camping.”

  “Great idea. Let’s do that.” His voice changed and his eyes were locked on hers. “You, me, king-size bed and room service. I know a wonderful hotel near Burlington. Lake view. Four-poster bed. Goose-down pillows. All-night sex, no strings attached.”

  She was tempted, oh, so tempted.

  And because she was tempted, she stood up. “You should try camping again. Sometimes it’s good to go back and do the things you did when you were young.”

  “What, lie on hard, stony ground while Jackson snores next to me? I’m not sure the appeal was that great first time around, let alone going for a repeat.” He stood up, too. “So I guess that’s a ‘no’ to a night in a four-poster bed with goose-down pillows? Just for the record is it because you’re allergic to feathers? Because I can request hypoallergenic.”

  Trying to resist that charm, she stacked the plates. “Thank you for dinner. It was delicious. Good night, Sean.” Without looking at him she walked into her kitchen, but he w
as right behind her.

  “Dinner was on me. I should clear up.”

  “You cooked, which means I clear up. It’s an equitable arrangement.”

  “Here’s another equitable arrangement.” He waited for her to put the plates down and then pressed her back against the counter, blue eyes locked on hers. “I kiss you and you kiss me back.”

  Their mouths collided. He had one hand in her hair, the other low on her back as he held her trapped between his thighs and kissed her until the world around her ceased to exist. His mouth was skilled and clever, driving thought from her head and replacing it with hunger and heat. She slid her hands over his shoulders, feeling strength and the swell of muscle under her seeking fingers.

  She was the one who pulled away, even though it took all her willpower to do it.

  Not because she didn’t want this, but because she needed to prove to herself she was still capable of using her brain to make decisions.

  When he would have kissed her again she flattened her palm to his chest. “Good night, Sean.”

  “I want you.” His voice was raw and honest. “And you want me. It’s simple.”

  But she knew it wasn’t simple. Relationships had a way of becoming complicated really fast.

  “Not everything we want is good for us.”

  “I’ll make it good for you.” His mouth slid from her jaw to her neck and she closed her eyes and tried to resist temptation.

  “That wasn’t what I meant.”

  “Then what did you mean?” His mouth was close to hers, his tone intimate, and she kept her hand planted firmly in the center of his chest.

  “I don’t want complications.”

  “Neither do I. It’s yet another reason why we’re perfect together.”

  “We had an agreement.”

  “I don’t remember any agreement.” His eyes were on her mouth. “There wasn’t one.”

  “It was unspoken.”

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice a deep, sexy rasp. “I remember every moment of our not speaking session, but I don’t remember agreeing never to mention it again.”

  She hadn’t factored this in. Hadn’t thought that he might push for something more. It had been a year.

  “Good night, Sean.”

  “You’re sending me away like this? You have no heart.”

  She had a heart. Once she’d given it freely without question, but not any longer. Now she protected it with everything she had and that wasn’t going to change.

  CHAPTER TEN

  PREPARATIONS FOR THE party took precedence over everything.

  Tyler was responsible for the lighting and he had Jess helping him, holding ladders and directing him while he twisted lights into trees and along the overhanging roof of the renovated boathouse. He turned the air blue as he fiddled with bulbs, but he arranged everything as Élise instructed.

  Guests using the trails around the lake stopped to watch and offer congratulations, all caught up in the excitement of the official opening. Everyone staying at the resort was invited and Élise felt a buzz of triumph that finally her dream would become reality.

  The Boathouse Café would be good for Snow Crystal. Good for business.

  She hadn’t let Jackson down. She hadn’t let the O’Neils down.

  The newly laid deck was now home to stylish tables and chairs and she’d added large earthenware pots crammed full of colorful blooms she’d been nurturing herself.

  Tables inside had been moved together to form a buffet table while still leaving room for a small dance floor.

  “It’s going to be great.” Taking a quick break with Élise, Kayla watched Tyler work. “Subtle, perfect romantic lighting. You’ve done an amazing job, Élise. You’ve thought of everything. Don’t forget to think of yourself and leave yourself time to change.”

  “I have half an hour at six. It will have to be enough.” She couldn’t afford more than that. She’d spent her morning moving backward and forward between the large kitchens in the main restaurant and the Boathouse. Almost all her team were focused on preparations for the party and she was more than happy with the way things were working out. Elizabeth had been wonderful as always. “I need to ask Sean to drop those tools back to Zach. I can’t store them any longer.”

  “Sean’s gone back to Boston. He left before dawn. I can ask Jackson to do it. He has to go out later, anyway.”

  Sean had gone back to Boston?

  He’d left?

  Happiness drained out of her, leaving her feeling shockingly empty.

  She didn’t know what upset her most. The fact he’d left without telling her, or the depth of her disappointment. And mingled in with those disturbing emotions was frustration that Sean had left without sorting things out with his grandfather.

  Kayla glanced at her watch. “Brenna is coming to our place at six to get ready so that she doesn’t have to go back to the village. I’m going to try and persuade her to wear my red dress, otherwise she’ll turn up in the same black one she always wears when she’s forced to dress up.”

  “Black is very elegant. I am wearing black.”

  “Nothing wrong with black, but Tyler has seen her in that dress a hundred times and I thought I’d shake things up a bit, just to make sure he notices her. Why don’t you join us? We can all get ready together.”

  They’d want to talk about Sean and she couldn’t face it.

  “I can’t, but thank you. I need to be back here to supervise the last-minute preparations. The timing of the food has to be just right. We have a mixture of hot and cold appetizers and a choice of cocktails.”

  She’d been planning this party for months and not once had she expected Sean to be there, so why did she suddenly feel as if the evening had lost its gloss?

  She was tired, that was all. The buildup to the opening had exhausted her.

  She’d be fine once it was over and running the Boathouse became part of her routine.

  “The band are setting up at seven, I can deal with them. Guests arrive from seven-thirty.” Kayla frowned up at the sky. “The sky looks a bit ominous. Do you think it’s going to rain?”

  “I really hope not, but if it does we’ll just have to move the whole thing indoors. We’ll be tight for space, but it will be fine.”

  She tried to push Sean out of her mind, for once grateful she was busy.

  * * *

  BY THE TIME Élise stripped off her clothes and stepped under a cooling shower in Heron Lodge, she was wishing she could just lie down and go to bed, but she still had to supervise final preparations for the food as well as making polite conversation.

  Normally, she enjoyed that part. She loved talking to guests in the restaurant, discovering their likes and dislikes and who they were.

  Tonight, she wasn’t in the mood for making polite small talk.

  Irritated with herself, Élise dried her hair quickly, applied her makeup and pulled on a black dress she’d bought on a trip to New York to visit Kayla. It was high at the neck and low at the back and the skirt swung to midthigh. Knowing she’d be on her feet all night and walking a lot, she slid her feet into a pair of ballet flats and pulled a single silver bangle onto her wrist.

  She paused on her deck and allowed herself a moment to breathe in the peace and solitude, and then walked along the lake trail toward the Boathouse.

  Her team were poised and ready and she delivered a final briefing, making sure they understood every dish and all the ingredients.

  By the time the first guests arrived, everything was in place.

  The band was local and sufficiently versatile to keep the growing crowd entertained as they stood on the newly completed deck, drank Élise’s special cocktails and enjoyed the breathtaking view of the lake.

  Élise circulated, dutifully chatting to the people Kayla introduced to her, discussing her plans for the Boathouse and the Inn at Snow Crystal, smiling until the muscles in her face ached and her head started to throb. Sounds mingled, music tangled with threads of conversation an
d laughter.

  A bright point of the evening was when little Sam arrived with his family. He looked uncomfortable in a clean shirt with all the mud scrubbed from his face.

  Élise made a point of locating the pizza bites she’d added to the menu especially for the younger guests.

  “Yum.” He helped himself to four and then caught his mother’s eye and put one back on the plate. “Kayaking was wicked fun. Brenna is awesome.”

  “Hey, you were a champ.” Brenna ruffled his hair as she walked past. “You’re going to put up a fight in that race tomorrow.”

  “I’m gonna win.” Sam spoke with his mouth full of pizza and his mother rolled her eyes, switching the baby onto the other hip.

  “Talk or eat honey, you know the rules. Not both together.”

  “It’s a week until my birthday.” He was almost jumping on the spot. “I’m getting a red mountain bike. So cool to be here for my birthday. I’m spending the whole day with Dad.”

  “A red bike?” Élise made a mental note to bake him a cake. “That sounds like a great present.” She noticed that Brenna was wearing her usual black dress and assumed Kayla had lost the argument.

  “I’ve waited three years.” Sam’s fingers hovered hopefully over another slice of pizza and Élise helped him out and put two slices on his napkin.

  “Three years is a long time. You must be very excited.”

  “Dad promised I could have one on my ninth birthday. I’ve got a bike at home, but it’s a baby’s bike.” He all but drooled over the pizza. “Can we have this same pizza for my birthday?”

  “I’ll speak to the kitchen.”

  Brenna stole a piece of pizza and winked at Sam. “When you’re with me tomorrow I’ll give you a map of the mountain bike trails. Be sure and start with the beginner one.” Her smile dimmed fractionally and Élise glanced over her shoulder to see what had caught her friend’s attention. Across the room, Tyler was laughing with a pretty blonde in a tight silver dress.

  Élise ground her teeth and turned back to Brenna to suggest she ask him to dance, but the other girl had vanished.

  Worried, Élise searched the crowded deck for a moment and then spotted her in a quiet corner talking to Josh, the chief of police.