Wedding of the Century

by Patricia McLinn

The first stage—the outside inspection—had taken depressingly long. Nell used the time to make inroads into Miss Trudi’s jam pot, while Miss Trudi filled the silence between Steve and Annette by telling stories of growing up in the house when it had been at its elegant best.

  From the look on Max’s face, Bliss House was further from that standard than they had feared.

  “So, what needs to be done?” Miss Trudi asked brightly.

  “I need to check inside before I can tell you.” One-handed, Max maneuvered a powerful flashlight out of his pocket. “Annette, if you come and hold the flashlight, that’ll help. Miss Trudi, how do I get to the furnace and the attic?”

  “I’ll show you. There are a few little places where it can be ever so slightly tricky for someone not familiar with the house.”

  Nell popped out of her seat. “I know the hole in the stairs, and where water runs down the wall. And I can hold the flashlight. I wanna go.”

  That started a rapid-fire discussion of who should go. Max and Lenny, of course. Miss Trudi insisted. Steve volunteered to wait in the kitchen. Annette thought she should go, leaving Nell with her father. But Max said Nell not only knew the house, but took up less room in exploring close quarters.

  That left Steve and Annette on opposite sides of the big table…for about four seconds. Until she jumped up and started clearing the table.

  He picked up a cup and saucer and followed. “Spill it, Annette.”

  “What?” She stopped in the act of testing the water filling the sink.

  Based on experience, he turned the burner on under the kettle to add hot water to the tepid stuff from the tap.

  “You’ve gotten better at hiding your feelings, but I can still tell when you’re working up to saying something you’re not sure you want to say.”

  Her eyes widened. He caught that in the second before she dropped her head, her hair swinging forward to obscure her expression. Then she reached up with both hands and pushed her hair back. Damn.

  “And you better say it fast,” he muttered.

  “All right.” Her tone and the tuck between her brows indicated she interpreted his reaction as impatience. Just as well, or she’d be running.

  “Look, if we’re going to work together helping Miss Trudi, I think…I wanted you to know…I don’t want you to think—”

  He had no idea where she was going with this.

  She took a deep breath and started again. “This doesn’t change what I’ve said before, but something your mother said—that I took the easy way out—I just… I know you hate public scenes, and the one at our—at the church was a doozy. If there’d been another way… But there wasn’t, not for me. Still, I want you to know that leaving that church was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

  He felt an odd lightening. It didn’t make sense. He’d never thought she’d acted on a whim. Hell, his rational mind could see that, from her standpoint, she’d had good reason. It was just that his heart hadn’t been rational. Maybe the lightening came because she was talking about it without anger.

  “The only thing harder I can imagine,” she continued, “would have been staying there after… I couldn’t do that.”

  “No, I don’t suppose you could have. Not any more than I could have done differently than I did.” The weight of each word felt like putting down a stone he’d been carrying. “But I am sorry, Annette. Sorry I didn’t do better. Sorry I wasn’t someone you could believe in. And especially sorry you were hurt. Letting you get hurt was the last thing I wanted.”

  Her eyes came to his, and for the first time they held an openness. She was giving him what he had so wanted before and what had come in snatches against her will from that first day at the hospital. Letting him see inside her. What he saw was that she had interpreted his words as an apology for a sin he’d committed. He’d been thinking of all she didn’t yet know.

  He gave one short nod, an acknowledgment of the corner they had turned. A blind corner, with no way to see what was ahead on the road.

  While she started to wash dishes, he returned to the table to gather the rest. And maybe to put some distance between them.

  “The jam knife’s so sticky, it’s going to have to soak.”

  She offered a return to the mundane, and he accepted it.

  “Wish I could do that to Nell’s face.” He started drying what she’d washed.

  Her chuckle faded into a sigh, and she glanced toward the doorway Miss Trudi and the others had gone through. “I’m not looking forward to this.”

  “None of us are. It almost doesn’t matter what total Max comes up with. It’s going to be more than she can afford.”

  “Then why are we putting her through this?” She knew why. It was frustration and pain for her friend talking.

  “To shock her into facing the reality that she can’t stay here like this.”

  “She’ll be heartbroken.” Annette put a handful of silverware in the drainer and wiped her hands on a towel.

  “I know.”

  She scooped her hair off her forehead with both hands again. “What are we going to do?”

  It had no planning. No will. No intent. Solely need.

  He leaned across the corner of counter that separated them and kissed her.

  Heat blasted through him, along with something that would have made him laugh and shout out loud if his mouth hadn’t been better occupied in renewing its acquaintance with hers.

  Ah, yes. That rounded curve that led to the dip below her lower lip. This sweet tuck at the corner. The full press of her lips against his. The seam where they met, and where his tongue demanded entrance. Her taste. Ah, her taste.

  He wanted to grasp the instant, suspend it, extend it. And he wanted to drive past it, go deeper, harder, faster. Now, right now.

  He held her shoulders, held them tight, like that might give him a grip on his desires. No way.

  He negotiated the corner of the counter without releasing her mouth.

  In a gasp of loss so sharp he wanted to curse it, he released her mouth to gulp in air. They were separate, yet so close they couldn’t look at each other. He could only feel the accelerated pace of her breathing.

  She’d suspended motion in mid-gesture the instant his mouth touched hers. Now he was aware her hands were moving. She could push him away. She would push him away if her brain was working. He had to do something.

  He shifted, bringing their bodies in contact and nudging her off balance. At the same time he took her mouth again, pushing insistently at the renewed seam of her lips. She backed up half a step in pursuit of balance, but stopped abruptly—it must have been the counter—and gave a soft oof. That tiny breath was all he needed. He stroked his tongue inside her mouth and surged against her. She pressed against him as her mouth opened to him.

  She touched his jaw, fleeting and soft, then grazed a caress of her palm on his cheek before her fingers slid into his hair and around to the base of his neck.

  Her hands on him were a benediction flowing over him and into him, reaching to where the need for her resided. Never gone, never forgotten.

  A change in the pressure of her hands registered first. She was pushing against him, not holding on. Then noise penetrated. Noise from the hall. Of people approaching. He released her, pulling in air. She didn’t look at him as she stepped back, then turned.

  He retreated behind the corner of the counter. It provided cover without requiring much moving, and both were essential at the moment.

  Her brother paused in the doorway as he looked from Steve to Annette. Max’s gaze landed on Annette, and his grimness deepened. Miss Trudi advanced while her gaze flitted from Steve to Annette, ending on him, and her grimness lifted.

  “What’s—” Annette’s voice came out half an octave higher than usual. She cleared her throat. “What’s the upshot of your inspection, Max?”

  Max’s frown deepened, and Steve could almost hear her brother’s voice demanding to know what the hell was going on.

  Ins
tead, he said, “I couldn’t write as I went so I have to make notes.” Having Miss Trudi and Nell along made dictating to Lenny, as he had outside, awkward.

  “Of course, of course.” Miss Trudi bustled around to make the two men comfortable at the table. Nell peered over Max’s arm until Steve shooed her away. Annette stayed at the sink, as if that lone jam knife required constant supervision.

  Miss Trudi took the chair at the head of the table. Steve sat beside Nell, pretending he was watching Max laboriously write with his left hand and pretending he wasn’t watching Annette.

  After all his lectures to himself to remember what she said about leaving, his hormones sure as hell had pushed them around another blind corner. But was it heading toward or heading away from something—and what?

  Max raised his head and cleared his throat. Annette walked over, wiping her hands on a towel. Steve couldn’t take his eyes off those slender hands. Those fingers had touched his cheek, threaded into his hair, caressed his neck….

  A dual gasp from Annette and Miss Trudi snapped him to now.

  Max had given a figure, and he’d missed it.

  “Oh, but if we don’t do everything,” Annette was protesting, “if we do the absolute necessities for safety and to prevent more damage…”

  “That’s what I just gave you.”

  “Oh, my.” Miss Trudi’s chin wobbled. “We’ll just have to do a bit at a time.”

  “That won’t work. Most of these jobs fit together,” Max said.

  “Is there anything that makes the house dangerous to live in?” Steve asked. He didn’t want to force Miss Trudi to leave, but if staying here endangered her…

  “Immediately?” Max rubbed his chin. “The wiring’s sh—crud. But as long as she doesn’t use more than one plug in an outlet and no extension cords, she should be okay. But as far as comfort’s concerned—”

  “Oh, I don’t mind about that!”

  “There’s also the matter of code, Miss Trudi.” Max shot a look toward Steve. “This place isn’t up to code—not close. It’s been grandfathered in, but once you start renovating and modernizing, the new codes kick in. The furnace isn’t too bad, but there’s no insulation to speak of, and there are so many gaps and splits and holes that it’s like you’re trying to heat all of Tobias. And the plumbing…”

  The news only got worse.

  Chapter Nine

  Following Max out of Bliss House forty-five minutes later, Annette pulled the collar of her coat around her throat and shivered in the wind that was piling up snow clouds like a miser’s bank account.

  Or maybe the lingering effect from Max’s litany had chilled her.

  She hadn’t been chilled after that kiss—

  No. She wasn’t going to think about that. It was a hormone flashback. There was no sense rehashing or reliving… Steve’s mouth, hot and firm, familiar and strange, insistent and compelling…

  “So now what?”

  I don’t know.

  A second after that mental wail, she realized Max’s question was about Bliss House. He and the others had stopped in front of Steve’s SUV.

  “Like Annette told Miss Trudi, we’ll all think about solutions and get together Tuesday night,” Steve said. “That gives her time to come to terms with the reality.”

  “It doesn’t have to cost that much. I can work on it for the expenses—”

  “Max, how could you?” Annette said. “Your business is growing so much you won’t even take time to heal properly.”

  “I could do it in my spare time.”

  “What spare time? You work constantly.”

  Lenny nodded agreement until he caught the sharp look Max sent him.

  “It might take a while, but I could do it,” Max said stubbornly. “Enough that she can live in it and it won’t fall down around her. At least not all of it.”

  “That’s very generous of you, Max. But I doubt Miss Trudi would agree to have you working for free, and it doesn’t solve the problem for the neighbors,” Steve said. “And if we stand here discussing this, Miss Trudi will know we’re talking about her.”

  Annette pivoted toward Max’s truck. Steve’s hand on her arm stopped her, and heat surged through her. She should invest in armor. “If you come with me, Annette, we can start brainstorming for solutions.”

  “No, I—”

  “We’re going to need all the time we can get to find a workable solution. Max and Lenny are welcome, too, but I got the idea they’ve got other work this afternoon.”

  “That’s why I can’t. I have to drive Max to—”

  “Lenny, you walked over, didn’t you?” Steve’s eyes turned almost silver with challenge. “You could drive Max home when you’re done and keep the truck a while.”

  Max frowned, but said, “Lenny and I could go right out to the site, and I was thinking he should take the company truck in for a tune-up first thing Monday, but if you want to go home, Annette…”

  Nell was the only one not staring at her. Lenny looked curious, while Max’s concern was almost as blatant as Steve’s challenge.

  “If you don’t need me to drive, I’m happy to get started brainstorming.” In case it wasn’t clear, she added, “Miss Trudi needs our help.”

  Steve had eased his SUV away from the curb when he lobbed his next hand grenade. “Before we go to my house, I have to drop off Nell at her friend Laura Ellen’s. Laura Ellen’s mother is a saint. She’s taking four of them to a late matinee then feeding them.”

  “Your house?” And without Nell as a de facto chaperone. Sure, he waited to mention that little fact until she was buckled into a moving vehicle.

  “Not scared, are you?”

  “There’s nothing scary at our house,” Nell said from the back seat.

  “Except for the mess under your bed,” her father said. Paper napkins and messes under the bed? Lana Corbett must be loosening up.

  Nell giggled. “It won’t hurt you, Annette. Honest.”

  “Thank you, Nell, and I’m not scared. However,” she said to Steve, “your office would be better. If we need background material or—”

  He shook his head. “We shut up tight and turn down the heat on the weekends to save the taxpayers money. My house will have to do.” He flipped on the turn indicator and pulled into a driveway. “Here we go.”

  A woman in a Green Bay Packers sweatshirt and jeans waved from the front door. Steve waved back then turned in his seat to instruct Nell. “You be good and do whatever Mrs. Volz says.”

  “I’m good all the time,” she said. Nell leaned across the back of the front seat to kiss Steve on the cheek. “You know what would make our house even more not scary? A dog. Bye, Daddy. Bye, Annette. I sure hope Caitlin’s here.”

  With that she scampered up the walk. Not until she disappeared from view did Steve shift to Reverse. Instead of backing out, however, he sat staring at the house.

  “Darn. I meant to… Sorry.” He set the emergency brake. “This won’t take long, but I’ve got to find out who this Caitlin is that Nell keeps quoting.”

  He put the car in Park. Although Annette suspected Steve’s peace of mind was in more immediate danger from Nell’s campaign for a dog than from Caitlin’s pronouncements, she leaned forward and covered his hand on the gearshift lever.

  “Caitlin is Laura Ellen’s older sister. Sixteen and apparently eager to impart the wisdom of her years to the younger set.”

  He had turned at her touch, and she was near enough to feel the full impact of his eyes. The girls at school used to gush about Zach’s startlingly blue eyes, but she’d always preferred Steve’s. They were subtle and changeable and fascinating…and Steve’s.

  This close, she could distinguish each emotion in his eyes. Surprise, probably at her knowing about Caitlin. Amusement, no doubt at a sixteen-year-old sage. Heat, at—

  She lifted her hand, but before she could withdraw it, he’d turned his over and caught it.

  Two pairs of Wisconsin-hardy gloves—his and hers—sepa
rated their palms. Tell that to the nerve endings in her hand, or the ones running a conga line up her arm to her shoulder, where it made a U-turn and brought heat and tightening to the point of her breast.

  One touch couldn’t do this. One simple touch. Not even skin to skin, the way he’d touched her when they’d kissed.

  She pulled her hand away, leaving the glove in his grasp. His gaze dropped to the empty glove he held, masking his expression.

  Four times she drew in a breath and slowly released it—hoping it wasn’t audible—before he wordlessly held out the glove, then backed out of the driveway after she took it from him, equally wordlessly.

  She scoured her mind for an excuse to cancel the brainstorming session that would make him think this awareness wasn’t the reason. Not an easy task, since that was the reason.

  They had crossed to his side of town and were climbing toward the hilltop where Corbett House sat when he finally spoke.

  “Thank you for clearing up the mystery of Caitlin.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I owe you another thank-you, too. For being so nice to Nell.”

  She frosted his profile. “Did you truly think I would take it out on her?”

  “Even for someone who’s closed the door on the past, the history can’t be completely ignored. But, no, I didn’t think you would.” He glanced toward her, leaving no doubt that he meant it, before returning his attention to the road. “But sometimes what I feel when it comes to Nell isn’t totally rational.” His brief half grin faded. “So, I’m not surprised, but I am grateful.”

  She made no effort to break the silence as he turned onto the street that ran behind Corbett House. A half-circle drive marked the front, but the multi-car garage was at the back, off this secondary road.

  “What you said in my office,” Steve finally said, “about me putting off people’s feelings, about saying later…”

  She waited.

  “I know at the wedding, after Lily…” He slowed the car. “I don’t know how much I say it, to Nell or… But you were right to call me on it.”

  She swallowed, buying time to search for the right words, which apparently were spending the winter somewhere on a beach. Because there had sure been a shortage of the right words in her life these past two weeks.