Suddenly Last Summer

by Sarah Morgan

  It was the final intimacy. An intimacy she hadn’t allowed herself since Pascal.

  Frowning, she was about to slide out of his arms and make noises about him going home when he turned his head, hauled her against him and kissed her again.

  He was a master kisser. He knew just how to use that clever mouth of his to rob a woman of willpower and he’d done it to her on numerous occasions, but not this time. This time his intent wasn’t seduction, it was tenderness and the slow gentle nature of the kiss rocked her world.

  Shaken by feelings she couldn’t identify, she stared into those seductive blue eyes and felt everything inside her melt.

  He clearly intended to spend the night and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  “Do you honestly think that sleeping in the same bed is any more intimate than what we just shared?” The fact that he could read her so easily scared her.

  “I don’t do this. And neither do you. You don’t ever spend the night with a woman.” She knew Sean had broken as many hearts as he’d mended bones. “You walk away. Every time.”

  “Sweetheart, I can tell you there is no way I am capable of walking anywhere.” His eyes closed and a hint of a smile touched his firm mouth. “My body has ceased to function.”

  Panic unfurled inside her.

  “I need to use the bathroom.”

  “Fine, but come straight back.”

  Extracting herself from his grip, she rose from the bed and walked to the bathroom, wondering if he’d take the opportunity to leave once she was no longer in the room.

  Churned up and confused, she took her time in the bathroom.

  Ten minutes later she opened the door.

  And saw Sean asleep on the bed.

  He lay sprawled, long strong limbs stretched out, his left arm flung above his head. Those thick dark lashes that normally took second place to those blue eyes fanned bronzed skin and a strong bone structure.

  Élise stood for a moment, locked in indecision. She could join him, but that would mean waking together and that would put their relationship on a whole other level and she didn’t want that.

  She could wake him now and ask him to go and sleep at Jackson’s but he already slept the deep sleep of exhaustion. She knew his work was punishing and the events of the past few weeks had placed extra demands on his stamina. He showed nothing, absorbed stress and pressure like blotting paper, but still the effects were there.

  There was no way she could wake him. She wasn’t that selfish.

  With a sigh, she accepted that she wasn’t going to move him, which gave her two choices.

  This time, she allowed her brain to make the choice, easing the covers over him so he didn’t get cold in the night.

  Then she picked up a couple of pillows, pulled out a blanket from the white wicker basket at the bottom of her bed and resigned herself to a night on the couch.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  SEAN WOKE TO the call of birds and the sounds of the lake and lay for a minute, his brain still shrouded in sleep, his limbs heavy. It took him a moment to ease into the day and remember where he was.

  Heron Lodge.

  In Élise’s bed.

  But there was no sign of Élise. A single glance told him she hadn’t spent any part of the night in her own bed.

  He’d crashed out and she’d slept—where?

  “Shit.” He groped for his watch, saw that it was past eight o’clock and knew it was already too late to avoid awkward questions from his twin brother. Unable to remember the last time he’d slept this late, he rose and went in search of Élise but Heron Lodge was empty. Fresh coffee sat on the counter, cold, evidence that she’d left a while ago.

  She hadn’t hung around for slow morning sex, or even morning-after conversation.

  He probably should have been relieved. It surprised him to discover that he wasn’t.

  He bit into one of the pastries she’d left on the plate, took a moment to admire her skill as a chef and then heated the coffee. It was only when he lifted the mug to his lips that he noticed the blanket folded neatly on the couch.

  He lowered the coffee.

  She’d slept on the couch?

  Guilt, sharp and unfamiliar, stabbed him along with other emotions that were unfamiliar and unrecognizable.

  Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to find her standing in the doorway wearing the shortest pair of running shorts he’d seen. Her dark hair was held back from her face by a band and her cheeks were pink.

  Lust punched right through his body. It didn’t matter what she was wearing, he wanted her.

  “Why did you sleep on the couch?”

  “Because you were in the bed.”

  Given that they’d spent half the night locked together it seemed like flawed logic to him.

  “The bed was big enough for both of us. I didn’t intend to kick you out. You’ve made me feel guilty.”

  “Why would you feel guilty over something that was my decision?” She walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge and poured herself a long glass of ice water.

  Sean wondered whether pouring it over himself would solve his problem.

  The tension in the atmosphere was enough to give a person heatstroke.

  His pulse was thrumming. He was hard as rock. He wanted to power her back against the kitchen counter and remove those shorts. He wanted to spread her legs, taste her, bury himself in her. He wanted to feel her bite down on his lip, feel her tongue in his mouth and her hands on his skin. He wanted to feel the fire again, be burned up by it. But he also wanted to see her laugh, see that dimple, listen to her spill secrets and feel the rush that came from knowing she’d begun to trust him at least a little bit. That he was the one who had broken through those barriers. He wanted to protect her and reassure her that not all men were like Pascal. He wanted to tell her that they were good together.

  But how could he do that?

  When had he ever been anything but bad news for any woman?

  His history was littered with relationships that had ended. When the hospital called, when his patients needed him, he dropped everything and he wasn’t prepared to change that. He wasn’t prepared to make the sacrifice that needed to be made for a relationship to work.

  So why was he still standing here?

  Apparently unaware of his turmoil, Élise drank deeply, rinsed the glass and put it down. Cool. Calm. “I have to shower and then get over to the restaurant. Thanks for a lovely evening, Sean. It was fun.”

  Fun? That was it? That was all she was going to say?

  It was like trying to open a door with a key you’d used and suddenly that same key didn’t fit.

  And what had the evening been to him? He’d invited her on impulse but not once in the hours they’d spent together had that impulse felt like a mistake. They were friends, that was all. What was wrong with friends spending time together?

  “I know you’re scared—”

  “I’m not scared. Why would I be scared? We’re not in a relationship. We both know this was just sex. Admittedly sex in a bed for a change—” she smiled “—but still just sex. You’re worrying for no reason. Have a good week, Sean. Perhaps I’ll see you at family night.”

  * * *

  “THE TOMATOES ARE wonderful this year.” Élise picked one from the vine, sniffed, and put it in the basket on her arm. “We’ll put them on the menu at the Inn tonight. It’s a shame the season is so short.”

  “Thank goodness for Tom Anderson and his greenhouses.”

  “Oui.” Élise glanced at Elizabeth, wondering how much she dare ask. “He is a very nice man, I think, Tom. And it was kind of him to find the time to help out in our garden this summer. You have known him a long time?”

  “He and his wife used to come here for dinner on their anniversary. She died about eight years ago. It’s been a lonely time for him. Of course, the local community here is wonderful, but it isn’t the same as having that one special someone. I’m sure that’s why he has been spendin
g so much time growing his vegetables.”

  “We must support him.” Élise picked another tomato, hoping her instinct hadn’t been wrong. “If the Boathouse stays as busy as this, we should be able to double our order for salad and vegetables.”

  Elizabeth looked pleased. “I’ll mention it next time he’s here. Oh, look—the flat leaf parsley is looking good, and the mint. Shall we put tabouleh on the menu this week?” She picked a sprig and sniffed. “Michael always preferred the winter because of the snow, but I love summer in Vermont.”

  “I love summer, too. And yes to tabouleh. Good idea.”

  “So how was dinner with Sean?”

  “The surroundings were lovely. The food was good. The wine, delicious.”

  “And the company?”

  Her heart skipped in her chest. “The company was good, too, of course. Sean is always entertaining.”

  “He’s been coming home more often.” Elizabeth heaped mint into her basket. “Walter is pleased and it’s been a real help to Jackson. Thank you.”

  “Why are you thanking me? I am not the reason he is here.”

  Elizabeth looked at her. “After Michael died he stopped coming home. I know he was hurting badly, we all were, but of course, Sean wouldn’t talk about it. He has never been one to show his feelings easily. He doesn’t talk about personal things.”

  He’d talked to her.

  And she’d talked to him. About everything. It was the first time she’d ever done that.

  “Losing someone you love is always hard.”

  “Yes.” Elizabeth pushed a leaf aside and found another cluster of tomatoes, shining like rubies in the sunlight. “I don’t know how we ever got through those days. It was like walking through a dark fog. We were all stumbling around, trying to find our way, holding onto each other.”

  “Yes.” The lump wedged in her throat. “I love that you do that. Being able to hold together is what makes you a family. If you fall there is someone to catch you.” Until she’d arrived at Snow Crystal, she hadn’t had that.

  “Last Christmas everything changed. Kayla came and I started working with you in the kitchen.” Elizabeth picked the tomatoes carefully. “I honestly think that was what saved me. You saved me.”

  A sting of tears added to the lump in her throat. “It was Kayla’s idea.”

  “But you took me into the kitchen and made me one of the team.”

  “And that was lucky for me. You are very talented. Because of that I am now able to take time off!”

  “What you’ve done for Snow Crystal—first the Inn and now the Boathouse—it’s fantastic. It’s because of you the Inn has been named best restaurant again. For a while I really did think we might lose the business. But between Jackson, Tyler, Kayla and you, you’ve dragged it back from the edge.”

  Élise didn’t point out that it was still a bit too close to the edge for any of them to sleep properly at night. “It is certainly better. Much will depend on the winter, I think. We need a good season.”

  “It isn’t just the business you’ve helped. You’ve brought the whole family together. Helping you on the deck has forced Sean to spend more time here. It’s been good for everyone. I feel as if the whole family is finally healing. I saw his car parked outside Alice and Walter’s this morning and I know he’s arranged a gift for his grandfather so hopefully that will be well received.”

  “A gift?”

  “Something to help Walter. I know Sean worries about him, although he doesn’t show it. He was always the same. Tyler would explode with whatever was bothering him, Jackson would think about it and then talk about whatever it was, but Sean—he always kept it to himself. He was always the brooding type. I’m glad he stayed the night. I worry about him driving back to Boston when he’s tired.” Elizabeth hesitated and cast her a look. “Élise, this may not be my business—”

  “You can say anything to me!”

  “I love my sons very much, but that doesn’t stop me seeing who they really are. Sean has always been single-minded when it comes to his job. He only ever wanted to be a doctor. I saw it in him when he was young. And I’m proud of him but yes, sometimes I worry because I’d like to see him with more in his life than just a career to be proud of. A life needs balance. He doesn’t have it. I’m not sure he ever will.”

  “And you’re telling me this because...?”

  “Because over the past two years you have become as much a daughter to me as he is a son and I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  Her breath caught. Tears clung to her lashes. “Elizabeth—”

  “Maybe I’m wrong and there’s nothing going on, but if there is something going on then—well, I don’t want him to hurt you.”

  “Oh, bah, now you will make me cry.” Élise put her basket down and hugged her tightly, squeezing her eyes to kill the tears that threatened to fall. “I love you very much, too. And Alice and Walter and dear Jackson, Kayla, Brenna and even Tyler although I wish sometimes he would open his eyes. I am the one who is lucky, living and working here. And I will not be hurt.” That wasn’t possible. She protected herself too carefully. “Sean and I, we laugh together, we talk and yes perhaps some other things I will not discuss with his mother, but you do not need to be worried. However, I am touched that you care. And I am glad Sean is coming home more, too. It is right that he should. He has a very special family.”

  And she was part of that family. No one could take that away.

  She wondered if Sean was talking to Walter. If he was finally mending the rift that had kept him away from the place for the past couple of years.

  She truly hoped so. And if he’d taken a gift, maybe that would be the beginning of a whole new phase in their relationship.

  “WHAT THE HELL is that?” Walter stared at the machine in the middle of the yard.

  “It’s a log splitter.” Sean studied it, pleased with his choice. It had taken him ages to think of exactly the right thing to buy, and hours of research to finally come up with this particular model. “I arranged to have it delivered here.”

  “Why? Who is it for?”

  “It’s for you.” The phone in his pocket vibrated but for once he ignored it. Whoever it was could wait. This conversation was more important than any phone call. “It’s a gift, Gramps. So you don’t spend your time and energy hefting an ax.”

  “Are you saying I’m not capable of hefting an ax? Do you think I’m a wimp?”

  “No.” Sean frowned. “I think you just need to be careful, that’s all.”

  “I’ll decide what I do and what I don’t do.” Walter prowled around it suspiciously. “How much did this thing cost you?”

  “It’s a gift so the cost is irrelevant. And this thing can split logs like they’re nothing.”

  “So can I.” His grandfather’s gaze was fierce. “I’ve been doing it since before you were born.”

  “So maybe it’s time to take it easy.”

  “I don’t want to take it easy. I don’t need to take it easy, so you can just send it back where it came from and get your money back.”

  Sean stood in silence, absorbing the blow. Not for a moment had it occurred to him that the gift might not be welcome.

  He could send it back, of course. He could arrange for the damn thing to be transported right back where it came from and let his stubborn, muleheaded grandfather carry on swinging his ax until it finally killed him.

  All it would take was one phone call.

  He’d done his best. He’d tried. If his grandfather didn’t want it, then there was nothing else he could do.

  He closed his fingers around his phone, and then had an image of Walter lying still and pale in the hospital, with Alice at his side, refusing to leave. He thought of his mother, of Jackson and most of all he thought of Élise.

  Élise, who had been with his grandfather when he’d collapsed.

  Élise, who treated his family like her own.

  I love you, Walter.

  Unable to get her voice
out of his head, he pulled his hand out of his pocket and squared his shoulders.

  “I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to send it back.”

  “Then it can sit there and rust because there is no damn way I’ll use it. I’ll be using my ax, same as I always have.”

  “You haven’t even tried it.”

  “I don’t need to try something I know I don’t have a use for.”

  Sean stood still for a moment, searching for a persuasive argument and coming up blank. “Please, Gramps—” he struggled to keep the emotion under control “—just use it. Just for once, please do this.”

  “Give me one good reason why I should.”

  “Because you frightened the shit out of us!” It wasn’t what he’d intended to say, but he’d said it, anyway. Anger and frustration, held back for too long, rose to the surface. “Hell, Gramps, the whole of last winter I was nagging you to get yourself checked out, and did you do it? No. You’re so damn stubborn, so—” He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, forcing himself to breathe, trying to calm himself sufficiently to articulate his feelings. “Do you know how I felt when I got that phone call from Jackson telling me you’d collapsed? It was like getting that phone call about Dad all over again. I don’t remember a single thing about the drive from Boston to the hospital. All I remember is that my legs were like jelly and I kept thinking that if you died, if you died, then I’d—” His voice cracked and he broke off, his hands curled into fists and his feelings right there for the whole world to see.

  His grandfather stared at him in silence. Then he cleared his throat. “You shouldn’t have driven in that sort of state in a car like yours. You could have had an accident.”

  Sean gave a disbelieving laugh. “Is that why you told me to get back to Boston?”

  “No. I said that because I thought you didn’t want to be here.” Walter stared at the ground and let out a long breath. “I know you haven’t exactly liked coming home since your father’s accident and I didn’t want to put that pressure on you. And I didn’t want to pull you away from your work when it’s so important to you.”