by Helen Brenna
She stiffened for a moment as if taken by surprise before wrapping her arms around him and kissing him back. Her mouth opened, her tongue tangled with his and she moaned. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” she whispered.
“Then why didn’t you?” he said, kissing her again. And again.
“Because…I don’t…I don’t know what we’re doing.” Her breath left her mouth in quick bursts of frozen air.
“Does it matter?”
She put her hands on his chest and held him back. “Maybe not to you, but it does to me.”
“Don’t get so serious, Sarah. What’s wrong with a lighthearted fling? We’re adults. We can handle that.” No one could rationalize better than a man with a hard-on. “I won’t ask for anything you don’t want to give.”
“That’s the problem. I’m not sure there’s anything I’d hold back from you.”
“Sarah—”
“No, Jesse.” She stood and brushed the snow from her pants. “I’m a single parent, and Brian is starting to like you. Maybe too much. Things like this…matter a lot. You don’t want to hurt anyone, I know. But a man like you leaves nothing but a mess in his wake.”
She was right. Still, it stung. He got to his feet. “Maybe you should fire me.”
“I should’ve never said that. I’m sorry.” She shook her head and looked away. “The truth is that as soon as my house is done you’re gone as quickly as you came, right? It’s what you do, isn’t it? Leave?”
That fact he couldn’t argue, or reason away.
“Well, Mirabelle’s my home. It’s where I plan on staying for the rest of my life,” she said. “We have no future, so there’s no point in creating a present.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SPRING, IT SEEMED, had come to Mirabelle almost overnight. One day, high-school basketball state championships were on TV and a blizzard had popped up out of nowhere to blanket Mirabelle in several inches of sticky wet snow and the next day the sounds of trickling and dripping water could be heard around every corner.
As the weeks passed, the days got longer and the sun got stronger. Before Sarah knew it, Main Street was clear of ice and snow from curb to curb, every speck of white was gone from the rooftops and had started to recede from yards to expose little patches of grass struggling to turn green. The ice cover on Chequamegon Bay broke into pieces and melted. Trees leafed out and perennial gardens burst from the ground. And her first wedding of the season was around the corner.
“Sarah?” It was bridezilla Megan on the phone and she sounded stressed.
“Hi, Megan,” Sarah answered, making sure her voice stayed calm and soothing. “How are you?”
“Not good.” A muffled sob sounded over the line. For a moment, Megan didn’t—probably couldn’t—speak.
Oh, no. What was it this time? Engagement off? Groom broke his leg in a car accident? Parents bailed on promises to pay for everything? Sarah had worked through all of the above and more. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
“Brandon’s deployment date…was moved up.” She paused, sniffling and taking in a shaky breath.
“By how much?” Sarah crossed her fingers.
“He’s leaving for Afghanistan…a month ahead of schedule.”
Uh-oh. “Kind of upsets all the wedding plans, doesn’t it?”
“Yeeesss,” the young woman wailed.
“Did you still want to get married before he leaves?”
“Are you kidding? I’m marrying that man. Come hell or high water.”
“Well, you could always scrap your plans for a wedding here on Mirabelle and get married by a judge. Right now. Be able to enjoy the time with Brandon before he goes, rather than worrying about the wedding. All you’d be out is a few deposits.”
“Oh, no!” Megan said. “Remember my dream since I was eight? This is happening. On Mirabelle. Reception, food, dancing, champagne. The whole nine yards. Or else.”
If the vows and Brandon were really what counted, rather than all the pomp and circumstance, then the I do part was all that mattered. “You sure about that?”
“Positive.”
“If it’s that important, you could always have a big party when he comes home on his first leave.”
“And give up my dream? There’s got to be another option. Do you ever have weddings on Mirabelle in May?”
“Occasionally, we have weddings here during the off-season. The problem is that most of our summer staff are college students and they generally don’t get here until just before Memorial Day weekend.”
“I’ve already checked with our parents. The third weekend in May will work. Is that late enough?”
The third weekend in May. The weekend Sarah had been planning on moving into her house. Sarah paced behind her front counter. If she agreed to move up Megan’s wedding she could say goodbye to getting her home settled and organized before she basically put her life on hold for all the brides and grooms who had chosen Mirabelle for their wedding destination.
“Um, Megan, I’m not sure that weekend works for m—”
“Please, Sarah. Daddy said he’d make it worth your while. Double your fee. Tell the inn we’ll double the staff wages. Whatever it takes to make it work.”
Sarah could use the extra money. She glanced at the calendar, hoping a few extra days would miraculously appear in her schedule. It wasn’t going to happen.
“Sarah?”
Sarah closed her eyes. “All right. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try. I’ll contact the Mirabelle Island Inn and all the other vendors and find out if they can move your wedding up. You’ll probably have to have both the ceremony and the reception at the inn.”
“That, I can deal with. Do it. Please.”
“Okay. I’ll call you as soon as I know.”
Sarah hung up and immediately called the Mirabelle Island Inn. Brittany Rousseau answered and Sarah explained the situation.
“Oh, heck, yes, we can make that happen,” Brittany said, her voice as bubbly as ever. “Most of the college kids we’ve hired will already be out of school by then. We’ll call a few and get them here early.”
That took care of the catering, the reception location and the rooms for the guests. That left calls to the photographer, the band and the cake decorator. Sarah took a deep breath. “Okay, Brittany, plan on the date change. I’ve got a few more calls to make.”
“Good luck.”
The back door to her shop opened. “Mom?”
“In here, Brian.”
“Jesse said we’re supposed to meet him at the house at five-thirty,” he said. “What’s taking you so long?”
Sarah had completely forgotten about the surprise Jesse had waiting for the boys the moment she’d heard Megan’s voice on the phone. “I have a wedding crisis. Call Jesse and tell him we’ll be half an hour late.”
“But Mom,” Brian groaned.
“I have to do this. After you talk to Jesse, call Zach and tell him to meet us here.”
An hour, two chewed nails and a broken pencil later Sarah had contacted every key player in Megan and Brandon’s wedding. She’d had to find a new photographer, but everyone else had been pleased to reschedule as it would lighten their respective June loads. She called Megan back.
“Sarah?” Megan sounded hopeful, yet worried.
“It’s done. You’re rescheduled.”
Megan screamed. “Yes! You’re the best.”
In Megan’s eyes. Now to repair the damage with her son.
She went upstairs and found the boys playing video games. “I’m ready anytime you boys are.”
“It’s about time,” Brian mumbled, shutting off his gaming unit and the TV. He barely glanced at Sarah. “All you do is work.”
“Hey.” His attitude was starting to bother her. “My work is what puts food on our table, remember, Brian?”
“Yeah, whatever.”
She cocked her head at him. This discussion had been a long time in coming. “Zach, could you wait for us
outside?”
“Sure.” Zach hopped up and, clearly uncomfortable, put on his jacket and left the apartment.
“You got a problem with me, spit it out,” Sarah said.
Brian glared at her, but he truly looked as if he was formulating his argument. “You work all the time and you treat me like a little kid.”
Couldn’t get much more straightforward than that. “I work all the time because I own my own business. Unfortunately, that business is busiest when you’re out of school.”
His shoulders slumped. “I know.”
“Do you really think I don’t spend enough time with you?”
“No. You do.”
“Then what do we do to fix this?”
“I’m ten, Mom. Let me grow up.”
“Okay. I’ll try.” She resisted the urge to hug him, exactly what she would’ve done ten minutes ago. “You, though, have to start acting more grown-up.”
“That’s what Jesse says.”
“Take on more responsibilities and you get more freedom.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Pick some chores around here and make them yours. All the time. Sound like a plan?”
He nodded.
“Now should we go see Jesse?”
“Yes!” He bolted outside.
Zach grinned the moment he saw Brian. “I wonder what the surprise is.”
“I don’t know,” Brian said. “But if Jesse’s involved, you know it’ll be fun.”
Sarah pulled on her jacket and tried to keep up with them. Though the snow was all gone, it was still a bit chilly outside. The nasty weather of January, February and March were nothing but a bad memory. The coming of April and more consistent days of clear sunshine had brought along with it the hope of summer, and nothing but confusion for Sarah.
This issue with Brian was a cakewalk compared to her relationship with Jesse. She felt like a ping-pong ball. As the tight lock she’d had on her heart cracked slowly but surely open, her emotions flip-flopped between euphoria and fear. Mostly fear. She couldn’t let herself fall in love with Jesse. That was the surest way to a broken heart. As soon as her house was done, he’d be leaving Mirabelle.
They reached her yard and let themselves inside the house. Voices from the basement emanated up the stairs off the kitchen.
“Let me see your electrician’s license,” Jesse said.
A male voice mumbled something indiscernible.
“Don’t mess with me,” Jesse said. “I know what you’re doing isn’t code.”
Another mumble as Sarah made her way to the top of the stairs. The boys, wide-eyed over the raised voices, stood back and away.
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Jesse said, his voice angry.
More loud grumbles.
“Like hell. I’m the main contractor here, and what I say goes. You’re fired.”
That met with the slamming of toolboxes and feet pounding up the steps. This electrician had been her last option, the only one who would make the trip to Mirabelle for a price within her budget. If this man walked away, she’d be out of luck until June.
“What’s going on?” she asked as Jesse and the electrician arrived in the kitchen.
“Nothing,” Jesse murmured.
Wearing a navy blue company uniform, the electrician looked competent enough.
“I wouldn’t work for you if you paid me double time.” The man pounded across the porch. “Good luck finding another electrician.”
“We’ll take our chances.” Jesse closed the door and turned to Sarah.
“You can’t fire him. There is no one else to do the job.”
“You want code violations? Shoddy workmanship?”
“No.”
“Then you don’t want this guy working on your house.”
“But Jesse—”
“Sarah, do you trust me?”
Her heart seemed to skip a beat as the question reverberated in her head. The light fixture he’d picked out for her in Duluth, now hanging in her kitchen, caught her eye. The first time she’d seen it, she’d known it was perfect for her house.
“I only want the best for you and Brian. Do you believe that?”
A lump formed in her throat as she realized she did believe him. “I know,” she whispered. “I do trust you.”
He held her gaze as if he seemed to understand the import of her admission. “Electrical work is tricky. So I kept a close eye on him as he was working.”
“We’ll find someone else. You don’t need to explain.”
“I want to, though,” he said softly. “The guy seemed to do an okay job rewiring the switches at the top and bottom of the stairs, but when he started working on updating your circuit breakers, I could tell he was taking shortcuts. I’ll do the work.”
“But I thought you couldn’t—”
“It’ll take me longer than a qualified electrician, but I’ll figure it out. After that guy, I don’t want anyone except for me and Garrett working on your home.”
His obvious show of protectiveness astounded her. There was more going on inside him than physical attraction.
“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Jesse said, smiling as he glanced at the boys. “I have a surprise for you two.”
“Where are we going?” Brian asked.
“The community center.”
Zach groaned. “Why? We’ve done everything there is to do there a gazillion times.”
“That place is totally lame.”
“There’ve been a few changes. Trust me. This you guys are going to want to see.” He glanced at Sarah. “You want to come?”
“I don’t know.” She smiled, wondering what he had up his sleeve. “Do I?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “You want to come.”
“You going to give us a hint?” she asked.
“Nope. You’re just going to have to see it for yourselves.”
Sarah’s interest definitely piqued, they all walked the couple of blocks to the two-story brick building. She dashed through the front door, following Jesse, but the boys, on the other hand, were dragging their feet the entire way.
She and Jesse both nodded to Bud Stall, the community-center manager, and walked toward the far corner of the building.
“Okay, guys. Close your eyes.”
Zach and Brian rolled their eyes at each other, but complied.
“You, too,” Jesse said, grinning at her.
Suspicious, she raised her eyebrows at him, but did as he said. When his warm hand wrapped around her arm, she sucked in a breath. When his other hand settled at her lower back, directing her forward, it was all she could do not to lean into him.
“Okay, stand right here,” he whispered, “until I get the boys. Don’t open your eyes.”
She heard him bringing Zach and Brian next to her.
“Okay. Take a look.”
Sarah opened her eyes. For a moment, she wasn’t sure what she was seeing. The boys, though, knew right way.
“Sweet!” Zach cried.
“A batting cage!” Brian yelled. “Dude!”
“Oh, my,” Sarah whispered.
“Looks like spring training to me,” Jesse said, grinning.
The boys ran off, grabbed helmets and bats and, after fighting over who would go first, finally settled on taking ten-hit turns. They flipped the machine on and Brian stepped into the cage. Like a little kid, Jesse was grinning from ear to ear as he adjusted the pitch setting to slow until they warmed up. He came to stand next to her.
“How did you do this?” she asked.
“Found an old pitching machine at a hardware store when Garrett and I were in Duluth a while back. It wasn’t working, so I bought it for a song and talked Bud Stall into giving a batting cage a shot. He said if I could get the machine working, he’d think about it. Took me some time, but I eventually figured it out. So Bud ordered the heavy-duty netting and I set up the temporary wall here in the gym. That was that. Gotta keep ’em out of trouble, right?”
There was more to it than that. She knew it. She felt it. His protectiveness over that electrician. His wanting to make a new fireplace. Now this. The boys had been getting attached to Jesse for a long while now. It was too late to do anything about that, but she didn’t understand. “Jesse, what are you doing?”
He seemed to recognize her concern and turned instantly wary. “Can’t I do something nice for the boys?”
“Of course you can, but what does it mean?”
“Nothing, Sarah.”
“Jesse—”
“Not a big deal, Sarah. Don’t make too much of any of it, okay?” He stepped back, putting more distance between them, and called to the boys. “You guys ready for me to speed up those pitches?”
“Oh, yeah!” Brian said.
“You know it,” Zach agreed.
He glanced at her. “Just because I found a pitching machine and fixed it up doesn’t mean I’m not still leaving Mirabelle.” Abruptly, he turned away, flipped the machine to a new setting and focused on giving the boys a few pointers, effectively shutting her out.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SARAH WALKED Brian up to Zach’s, where he’d be spending the day. By the time she arrived at her house to paint the living room, it was already midmorning. Oddly enough, she found the front door still locked, so Jesse mostly likely hadn’t yet arrived. She let herself in and took off her shoes and coat.
Jesse had said he’d have the kitchen finished by the end of next week. After that, the only inside work left to be done would be the family room and carpeting the entire house. Then he could start on the outside, by which time, hopefully, the weather would have improved. It looked as if he was going to have her house finished on time. Too bad she wasn’t going to be able to move in before Megan’s wedding.
Slowly, she walked through each room, admiring Jesse’s handiwork. Jesse had clearly been the right man for this job. Wondering how far he’d gotten in the bedroom, she walked down the hall and pulled up short at the sight of a figure lying on the floor wrapped up in a sleeping bag. That dark head of hair looked famil—
