Trading Secrets

by Christine Flynn

  “Oh, well. I’m sure it was nice, too. This is just so exciting,” Amber continued, oblivious to Jenny peeking back to see Joe nudge Greg and take her coat from him. “I don’t know how you managed to keep your relationship a secret. Not that you really did, I guess. I hear Dora suspected something. And Joe said he knew there was something going on from day one. But the two of you running off like that caught everyone by surprise.”

  Jenny pushed aside the thought that she had rather liked the faintly stunned look on Greg’s face. Feeling slightly stunned herself, her glance moved from the white crepe paper twists running from the huge paper bells in the middle of the low ceiling to the long white-draped table Amber guided her toward. She caught a glimpse of plates, silver and a wedding cake behind the people gathered around it. Flowers and tea lights had been placed at the center of each white-colored table around the dance floor.

  “I can’t believe you did all this.”

  “It was fun.” Balancing her own plastic cup of pink liquid, Amber flashed the smile that had earned her the title of Sweetest Personality in high school. “After Sally called me this morning, I called Claire. You know how good she is at getting things organized,” she reminded Jenny in her always thoughtful way. “I told her I still had all the stuff from Joe’s and my wedding. So, Carrie Higgins and my mom and her aunts started decorating. Claire got Agnes to bring over the punch makings from the store. Smiley and Bud strung the lights. Bess made the cake. And here we are.”

  Joe’s wife had every reason to look as pleased with herself as she did. She’d pulled off in one day what some would have taken weeks to plan.

  The main table had been strewn with white ribbons and red roses from someone’s garden. A punch bowl and silver coffee service that looked suspiciously like those from the Community Church anchored each end. In the middle, the cake, three tiers covered in butter cream and leaning slightly to the left, had the same fresh blooms on top and cascading down one side.

  Greg seemed to be well-liked and she had grown up knowing nearly everyone there, so she told herself she shouldn’t feel as amazed as she did by what everyone had done. When people in Maple Mountain felt they had reason to celebrate, that’s what they did. What totally bewildered her, however, was that people honestly seemed to think she and Greg had been involved with each other all along.

  “Congratulations, Dr. Reid,” she heard her friend Carrie say from behind her. “And you,” Carrie continued, stepping around Jenny to wrap her in a hug and a cloud of her boys’ bubble-gum scented bubble bath. “It’s no wonder you never had time to come out for dinner. But my gosh, girl!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t this a little sudden?”

  Jenny had felt Greg’s presence even before she glanced up to see his charming smile on Carrie. Wondering if he felt as overwhelmed as she did, doubting it because nothing seemed to rattle him, she hoped for something convincing to say.

  “Some things shouldn’t wait,” Greg supplied for her. He lifted one broad shoulder in an easy shrug. “We couldn’t see any point putting it off once we decided we were getting married.”

  Carrie put her hand over her heart, her glance sliding back to Jenny. “And you knew that this soon?”

  “It did catch me by surprise,” she admitted, being as honest as the man at her side.

  Carrie gave her heart a little pat. “Oh, that’s just so romantic. You hear about love at first sight, but I never knew anyone it actually happened to before.” She took a deep breath, let it out on a sigh. “I just can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

  Jenny didn’t know which bothered her more just then. Seeing her old friend look so happy about an emotional situation that didn’t exist, or wondering if Greg was standing there thinking about how love gave people a license to use and control.

  “We didn’t tell anyone, Carrie.”

  “No one,” Greg confirmed.

  “Not even me.”

  Bess, clearly miffed, planted herself beside the enthralled mother of three. The silver brooch on her royal-blue pantsuit matched the frames of the glasses that gleamed from their neck chain. The smile that had been in everyone else’s eyes seemed conspicuously absent from hers.

  “I can’t believe that one of you didn’t say something to me before I left yesterday. You didn’t even give me time to bake you a proper wedding cake. You can’t make a cake like that the day you need it. You have to give it a day to firm a bit. That thing over there’s already got a tilt to it, so you’d better cut it before it falls over.”

  Jenny’s glance flew to Greg’s an instant before he looked to the slightly listing creation. Bess truly didn’t appear to be happy with either of them.

  “It looks beautiful,” Jenny insisted. But Bess didn’t seem interested in compliments, and Jenny didn’t have time to figure out if she was more upset about the cake or of not having been informed. Joe had just stopped behind the woman who didn’t look as if she wanted to talk anymore, anyway.

  “There you are.” Having dispensed with Jenny’s coat, he smiled over Bess’s tight curls. “Amber tells me it’s not proper to congratulate the bride. Something about the guy gets congratulations for winning the prize and the woman gets best wishes for having to live with him. Or something like that.”

  As Bess left them, lips pursed, to tend to her cake, he touched his plastic punch cup to the one that had materialized in Jenny’s hand. “So best wishes, Mrs. Reid. I told Greg this morning that I knew there was something between you two the first time I saw you sitting together on your grandma’s porch. He tried denying it back then, but it’s pretty hard for him to do it now.”

  “Well, I knew there was something going on last week when I saw him walking her to her car after work,” Claire declared, joining them. “I just can’t believe how quickly things happened.”

  “That’s because it took Ed three years to propose to you,” Bertie Buell supplied. She stuck her hand out to Greg. “Congratulations, Doctor. Best wishes to you Jenny. I’ve never been in favor of long engagements.”

  Greg could pretty much imagine why, too. The woman was old-school to the core. Had shunning not gone out with the pilgrims, she would have wholeheartedly supported the wearing of scarlet PS for those who engaged in premarital sex.

  The congratulations continued. So did the stories everyone seemed to have about when they first suspected there was something special between Greg and the woman his glance kept straying toward. It threw him to know that people thought they were involved more than they were, but their assumptions served his and Jenny’s purpose far better than the stories they’d agreed on about a courtship that had never existed. And when it came to questions he hadn’t anticipated, he found the simple truth served well enough.

  Earlier that day all he’d had to do was agree with Joe and with Bud, the electrician who’d checked out her wiring, that it was good she was out of that old house. When Charlie said he supposed they’d wanted to be married before they left Maple Mountain because it would make the move to their new community easier, all he’d had to do was agree with him, too.

  Now, with Jenny turning to him to nod toward Bess and whisper that they might want to cut the cake so their co-worker could stop frowning at them, he agreed with that, too.

  He’d been to enough weddings—two of them in Maple Mountain—to know what was expected after the first slice had been cut.

  Aware of several dozen pairs of eyes on them, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “How do you want to approach this?”

  She seemed far more at ease than he suspected she felt.

  “It has to be dignified,” she whispered back. “You’re the doctor around here.”

  “Dignified?”

  “You know,” she murmured. “No shoving or smearing. You do either and your morning coffee will look like tea for the rest of the month.”

  He liked that she had a little of her sass back. “Got it,” he said, and grabbed her by the hand to lead her to the cake that was beginning to resemble the leaning tower of
Pisa.

  With everyone gathered around the long table, he held his hand over hers on the beribboned knife. There were comments about how he might have been more comfortable with a scalpel. Charlie, whom he’d worked with thinning trees all day, said he’d seemed right comfortable to him with an ax. The teasing was good-natured and helped distract Greg from the feel of her skin beneath his, the scent of her shampoo. There wasn’t much, however, to distract him from the shape of her lush mouth when he held a small piece of cake to her lips. Or the feel of her finger catching the icing at the corner of his mouth after she did the same for him.

  “Hey, Doc! Kiss the bride!”

  Kissing her was inevitable, he supposed. And kissing her would hardly be a hardship. She looked incredible in the little slip of a dress she wore. It flowed over her gentle curves, caressed her body with her every move. With her short hair shining, her blue eyes sultry, her lips glossed a pale shade of ripe peach, she looked sexy and demure. Sensuous and innocent. The combination had seized his attention all night.

  She also seemed a little more prepared than she had in the moments after they’d been pronounced man-and-wife-in-name-only. When she looked up at him, she blinked as if to say she was sorry she’d put him in this position and offered a soft little smile.

  Certain she felt more distressed about it than he did, he tipped her chin with his finger and lowered her head to his.

  The jolt was there again. Even with a roomful of people clapping and murmuring around them, he felt it tug low in his gut. With her sweet mouth touching his, he felt her lips part slightly with her quick intake of breath. The tug pulled a little harder.

  She felt something, too. It was there in her eyes when he edged back. But he could have sworn the smile that slipped in to hide it looked only like relief, now that the little ritual was behind them.

  Over the applause and what sounded like a couple of teenage giggles, the music started.

  Amos and a few of his friends had a little band that hadn’t learned a new song since they’d played together in high school. The strains of “Only You” began as the overhead lights dimmed and the white twinkle lights strung around the stage at the end of the room flickered on.

  “The first dance is yours.” Amber made the announcement as she nudged them away so Carrie and Bess could take over the cutting and distribution of the cake. “No one knew if you had a favorite song, so Amos just picked one. You two are going to look so nice out there.”

  Greg had no idea how they appeared as they dutifully moved toward the empty floor. He was conscious only of Jenny when he took her in his arms and she slid her hand to his shoulder. Her thighs brushed his. The gentle roundness of her breasts pressed his chest. He could feel tension in her body, but what he noticed most was her grip on his hand.

  It was almost as if she needed him for moral support.

  “I feel really guilty,” she whispered, finally looking up.

  Because the music was loud, he dipped his head toward hers. “About what?”

  “All of this. Everyone went to all this trouble because they think we’re really married.”

  “We are married,” he reminded her.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “We can’t control what they want to see or choose to believe, Jenny. Our reasons for doing what we did are no one else’s business. We’re not doing anything wrong, and we’re not hurting anyone.”

  “Not everyone is crazy about what we did.”

  “I know,” he muttered. His hand inched a little higher on her back, his thumb brushing bare skin above soft fabric. “Do you think Bess is really upset with us?”

  “I’m not sure.” She swallowed at the feel of Greg’s hand drifting back to splay over the fabric lower on her dress. It was almost as if his touch to her bare skin had been inadvertent, something he really hadn’t intended to do. “I heard her tell Agnes Waters that you’re probably the reason I was mugged. She said Fate brought me back here so I could meet you.”

  Jenny had found the thought terribly kind and insightful, considering her co-worker’s displeasure. When Agnes had repeated Bess’s conclusion to her a few minutes later, Jenny had simply smiled and agreed that it was entirely possible. In many ways Greg had turned out to be more of a knight in shining armor than any man she’d ever known. She didn’t believe in the fairy tale anymore. She knew he never had. And he wouldn’t have considered himself anywhere near as noble as she’d found him to be. But there was no denying that he had come to her rescue.

  She ducked her head, conscious of the feel of his strong arms, the way their bodies flowed to the music. She had no idea what he’d said to the men who’d gathered around him while the women had alluded to how well she’d done for herself. But the friendly questions and comments tonight had made her even more aware of the enormous sense of gratitude she felt toward him.

  She just wasn’t prepared for the rest of what she felt in his arms just then. She’d seen the look in his eyes when they’d gone through the cake ritual. She’d felt that disturbing tingle along her nerves when he’d kissed her. As reassuring as she found his solid presence, and with the way everyone had been wishing them well all evening, it would be terribly easy to get caught up in the idea of them as a real couple.

  The thought had her steeling herself against the feel of his hard muscles as he turned her on the dance floor. That kind of thinking would only get her hurt again. Greg had made it clear from the moment he’d proposed that their situation was temporary. And temporary was all she needed. With the way her luck had gone lately, the last thing she wanted to do was to put her heart on the line again. Especially with a man whose own heart had a wall around it a mile high.

  “Relax,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Sorry,” she murmured back. “I must be more self-conscious than I thought. About everyone watching, I mean.”

  Self-consciousness hadn’t brought the fine tension to her muscles. At least, not the kind she was talking about. Greg would have staked his license to practice on that. What she wasn’t comfortable with was the awareness he felt shimmering between them like flame.

  Their bodies fit beautifully, hard angle to soft curve, and they moved together to the music with an ease that should only have come after hours in each other’s arms. That thought had others drifting into his mind as he held her. Thoughts of her bare shoulders and how beautiful the rest of her body would be stripped of her enticing little dress. Thoughts of her body, naked and moving against his as slowly as they moved with each other now.

  He eased her back a bit, consciously distancing himself from that exquisite torture. The last thing he wanted was for Jenny to feel uneasy with him or with what they had done. He had signed on as her protector.

  Nothing more.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I don’t want you to think that I’m not happy for you, Jenny. Like I said the other day, your moving back here would seem to be the best thing that could have happened to you. You have a fine man in Dr. Reid and, even though I think you both could have given yourselves a little more time, you’re both adults and your personal life is none of my business.

  “Now, I’m sure you’ve had other things on your mind. Any new bride would,” Bess allowed, her tone clipped. “That’s why I’ve waited the past few days for you to bring this up. Since you haven’t, I will. Have you given any thought to who’s going to replace you since you’ll be leaving Maple Mountain, too?”

  The moment Bess had started to speak, Jenny had turned from the computer she’d just shut down to see her co-worker standing in the front office doorway. The woman with a smiley face pinned to her lab jacket had her hands on her hips. Displeasure pinched her expression.

  “Rhonda’s not going to like having to come back,” she continued. “She was hoping to take a year off.”

  Jenny rose from her chair, stuck her hands in the pockets of her scrub jacket. Bess was right, she had had other things on her mind. “I’m not leaving for another couple of months,”
she assured the clearly disgruntled woman. “If Rhonda really doesn’t want to come back for a while, I can train someone else. Who filled in when she took maternity leave before?”

  “No one I want back here. Except the oldest Waters girl.”

  “Then, I’ll call her.”

  “She moved to Portland.”

  “So, I’ll find someone else.”

  “If that’s what you’re going to do, you’d best get word out that the clinic is hiring. And start soon. It’s going to be bad enough having to get a new doctor used to the way we do things around here without having to worry about incompetent office help.”

  Looking as annoyed as she did when faced with an uncooperative patient, she collected her purse from the file drawer and turned back to the door.

  “See you in the morning,” she muttered.

  Jenny blinked at the woman’s back. Despite Bess’s surprisingly easy acceptance of her and Greg as a couple, she had been unusually reserved the past few days. Jenny hadn’t known what to make of her manner. When she’d asked Bess if she was all right, she’d said only that she had things on her mind. Listening to the woman walk away, Jenny finally understood what those “things” were.

  “Have a good evening,” she called after her.

  She heard her grumble a goodbye to Greg on her way to the back door.

  Moments later he appeared in the open doorway.

  “What’s the matter with her?”

  “I don’t think she’s very happy with us.”

  “She’s not still annoyed that we didn’t give her more time to make us a cake, is she?”

  The cake had certainly seemed to be the problem at the reception. The heart of the woman’s dissatisfaction, though, went far deeper than the delicious confection Jenny had thanked her for in person and by note.

  “I think she feels we sabotaged her.”

  Frowning, he headed for the supply cabinet above the files. “How?”

  “Because we’re both leaving.” Now that she thought it through, it was no wonder Bess had been so displeased. She had been with Dr. Wilson for three decades before he retired. And Rhonda had worked there ever since she’d graduated from high school. Nothing had changed for Bess until Greg had arrived.