by Ginny Baird
“Your family? You’re kidding,” she said, wondering if it had been about his grandmother.
“She said they were too intrusive. Especially Sally.”
Hope 100 hundred percent wasn’t expecting this. “Sally?”
He nodded. “Sal was in college, then, and not really wild about Amanda. I asked her why, but she never really had any good reasons, just said it was a gut-level thing. Sally’s instincts have turned out to work well for her professionally. She never takes a case she doesn’t totally believe in and says she can read all her clients.”
“Like she did Amanda?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “In any case, it wasn’t just Sally. I think my mom wasn’t so wild about Amanda, either, but she was too diplomatic to ever say that.”
“Ahh. And Grandmother Margaret?”
“She never met her.”
“What? In all that time?”
“Amanda wouldn’t come home with me for holidays.”
“I see.”
“Anyway, none of that matters now.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ve found someone so much better. My perfect match.”
Brent was perfect. So perfect for somebody, and Hope was starting to think that was her and not her sister. She was the one he’d been getting to know and bond with, not Jackie. And yet, Jackie would be here on Wednesday, and Hope’s little fantasy life, where she pretended she’d finally found a guy who was really into her, would be ended.
Brent checked his watch. “It’s getting late. Are you ready to head back to the carriage house, or do you want to sit here a while?”
Hope wished she could sit there for hours with Brent, snuggled up against his warmth.
“I don’t mind sitting,” she said shyly. “For a little longer.”
“Good.” Brent reached over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tugging her close. “Neither do I.”
Then, they sat staring over the water as Hope’s mind spun and her heart ached, and she wondered what on earth she was going to do. She was giving her heart to her sister’s fiancé, and it was seeming more and more impossible that she’d ever get it back without it breaking completely apart.
Chapter Eleven
Hope had barely opened her eyes when someone knocked at the door. She wasn’t sure whether she was really awake or still dreaming. Maybe it was a woodpecker or something. Yeah, that. She groggily rolled onto her side, clutching a pillow.
Her mom was on the pullout couch in the lower-level den, and the second room in back with twin beds had been assigned to “Hope” and Meredith. She’d only been given the master as a courtesy, since she was the bride. Hope planned to square everything up when Jackie arrived and reconfigure the sleeping arrangements any way that Jackie wanted.
There was another light rapping sound, and Hope sat up in bed. Someone was out there. At—what? Hope squinted at the clock beside her bed. Six in the morning? It wasn’t even light yet, was it? She trained her gaze on the window, seeing fine slivers of light peeking through the slanted blinds. Who on earth?
“Jackie?”
Hope sat up with a jolt. Brent? “Coming.” She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and grabbed her bathrobe, slipping it on.
“You’re not ready?” Brent asked when she answered the door in a daze.
“Well, Captain Obvious. No.”
Brent raised an eyebrow when she cupped her mouth. “Cranky this morning?”
“Sorry. I…just don’t wake up very well.”
He frowned. “Since when? You’ve always been a morning person.”
“Er…right.” She tried to sound perky but still felt out of sorts. “Except for today.”
“Don’t tell me you’re feeling sick again?”
“No, it’s not that. I just need”—she turned back toward the kitchen—“coffee.”
“Ah,” he said, understanding. “Of course.” Brent peered around the side of the building. “I’m happy to wait while you make some. I can meet you in the gazebo if you’d like.” Then he added as an afterthought: “I suspect your mom’s still sleeping?”
“No, I’m not,” Ava moaned. Her mom sounded just as grouchy as Hope felt. Jackie was the only one of the three of them who could wake up with a smile. Ava and Hope both struggled.
“Okay.” Brent backed away from the door. “See you in a few.”
…
By the time Hope had made the coffee and changed into her shorts and tee, she felt more human. She’d washed her face, brushed her teeth, and downed a quick glass of water before joining Brent outside on the deck. “I brought two cups of coffee, in case you want one?”
“Thanks.” He accepted the mug she gave him, and she sat beside him at the small table in the screened gazebo. “I’m sorry if I got you up too early.”
“I’m sorry that I was such an ogre. Mornings and me? Bad marriage.”
He laughed at the remark. “You’re a very good actress, then, because I never would have guessed that from before.”
She sucked in a breath, gathering her courage. Maybe she should tell him now. Let the whole sordid truth come out. Sure, he’d be ticked, but at least she would have come clean.
And to what end?
What would learning that she was Hope—and not Jackie—do to Brent and his family? They would all feel so deceived, and any headway she’d made on her sister’s behalf would be totaled. Besides that, Jackie would be here tomorrow. So, what was the point in ruining things for everyone?
He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, and she had to will her pulse not to thrum in response. Unfortunately, her will wasn’t strong enough, and her heart began hammering anyway. “Are you worried about something? Because if it’s about the wedding and today’s meeting with the wedding planner—”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Then what?”
“I’m afraid, Brent,” she said, her breath shuddering.
“Of what?”
“Everything.”
“Baby,” he said, and Hope’s heart skipped a beat because he’d never called her that before. “Things might have started off a little rough, but we’re getting there. Yesterday was awesome. I mean, really amazing. The picnic…the porch swing. Everything.”
She sighed because she’d loved every moment of being with him, too. “Yeah.”
He tugged at her hand, pulling her closer. “I thought that I knew you. I mean, not super well, but the big picture of who you are. And here I’m starting to learn that I never really knew you at all. That’s probably what other people saw and why they said we rushed it.”
“People? Which people?”
“You already know about Grandmother Margaret.” He frowned. “But my dad questioned us, too.”
“Parker?” A red-hot arrow blazed through her chest. “Oh.”
“Honey, you have to look at it from their side. We’ve only been dating for three months.” He raked a hand through his hair. “But suddenly it seems like…well. I can’t imagine a time when I didn’t know you. It may sound stupid, but I feel like I always have.”
Hope’s breath caught in her throat. “It doesn’t sound stupid.” She licked her lips. “Not, not at all.”
“So, then…” His eyebrows rose. “You feel the same way?”
“Yeah,” she said, unable to stop herself. “I do.”
He set his palm against her cheek. “I can’t wait to hear those words on Saturday.”
“I…oh…” She tried to be strong and fight this tide, but it was such a losing battle. Every time she was this close to him, she only wanted to get closer. And then, he kissed her, and she didn’t know which way was up or down or right or wrong.
Wrong, this is wrong. Very wrong.
She pulled back.
“Where are you going?” he asked, trying to follow her.
“We
’d better get going. The time, and my meeting with the wedding planner.”
He straightened, seeming confused. “Oh. Okay. All right.” He looked…disappointed.
He wasn’t the only one.
…
Good. Good. This is good. Hope was glad they were running uphill, because she needed to serve penance. Ahhh. What had she done? She’d kissed Brent—actually kissed him.
Not super deeply or anything, but still…she’d honestly wanted more.
How would she explain it to Jackie? Maybe she shouldn’t; that would be the best thing. It might not go over so well with her dramatic sister that she’d begun falling for her fiancé.
Anyway, Jackie didn’t need to be privy to every little detail. There were such things as TMI and oversharing.
“How much farther?” she pleaded, staying on Brent’s heels as he scaled the mountainous terrain. He’d said this was a short run, but this last part had been practically a vertical climb.
“Almost there.” He grinned over his shoulder. “I can’t believe you never came here before when you lived in Blue Hill,” he said, reaching the summit and extending a hand. “Let me help you up. You won’t believe the view.”
Hope let him tug her along, fighting the stitch in her side. She’d never been so out of breath. Her entire body would pay for this tomorrow. But then, she joined Brent on the flattop rock overlooking Blue Hill Bay, and she decided that the effort had been worth it.
“This is gorgeous,” she breathed, seeing Acadia National Park and Mount Desert Island across the water.
“I’d hoped you’d like it.” He smiled, his sunglasses glinting. “I was about to say ‘selfie time,’ but then I remembered about our phones.”
She laughed, stunned to realize she’d actually been enjoying certain aspects of not having her cell phone. Like not being constantly reminded that Jackie was the one marrying Brent and that she was the imposter. “Yeah. About those?”
“We’ll get them out of the safe as soon as we get back to the house. Though you’ve got to admit, it has been kind of nice not having all those interruptions.” He tugged her up against him, and Hope pressed her fists against his chest.
“We really shouldn’t—here.”
Brent arched an eyebrow. “I wasn’t about to suggest doing the naked mambo.”
Heat seeped up her neck and into her cheeks.
“I was more hoping for a kiss.” And he leaned in to do just that.
“Brent!” she cried suddenly.
“What?” he snapped, actually sounding agitated.
“Girl Scouts.”
He stared at where she was pointing. A band of small girls in green uniforms and sashes headed their way, each one holding a walking stick.
“Great,” Brent grumbled. He released her and looked out over the water. “Should be a great day for sailing. Nice for tea and croquet, too.”
The Girl Scouts and their leaders hurried past them and onto a higher boulder for a better vantage point. After they did, Brent pushed his sunglasses on top of his head and surveyed Hope fully. “I get that you’re nervous because things are changing so fast between us. But if there’s something about me you don’t like…that you’re honestly not attracted to…”
She gripped his upper arms, and then she wished that she hadn’t, as that only made her want to hold him closer. “It’s not you—”
“It’s me,” he said, sardonically.
“I kissed you in the gazebo.”
“Jackie,” he said, setting his jaw. “Level with me. Because you’re sending me really mixed signals… If you don’t want to do this, then I’m good. I can take it if you’re not as wild about me as I am about you.”
Hope’s spirits flagged. “That’s not it,” she whimpered. “I’m totally wild about you.”
“Yeah?” he asked with a cockeyed grin.
“Yeah.”
He searched her eyes. “Then what’s the problem?”
“If I told you, you probably wouldn’t believe me. What’s more?” She lifted a shoulder. “You’d be mad.”
“At you?” He appeared incredulous. “Doubtful.” He held her tighter. “Try me?”
She pursed her lips. “What if I was…someone that I’m not?”
His forehead creased. “I’m not sure I follow?”
“The woman you got to know in Boston, Jackie Webb. She’s the woman for you.”
“It sounds a little weird referring to yourself in third person.”
“Humor me.”
“O-kay.”
“I think it would be better if we could erase all this…everything that’s happened these past few days.”
He gave a worried frown. “And why would we do that? Jackie, listen.” He pulled her closer, so close she could feel his heartbeat. “These past few days have been some of the best days of my life. And you know what I suspect?” He reached up and held her chin, diving into her eyes. “I suspect ‘that woman in Boston’ might not have been the right fit for me. But the woman I’ve gotten to know in Blue Hill is. Can’t you see, baby? You don’t have to pretend any longer.”
“What?”
His hand slid into her hair. “It’s you that I want—the real you.”
“Me, me?” she asked on a breathy sigh.
“You, you.” His mouth moved nearer, and her knees went weak.
“Tag! You’re it!” A couple of Girl Scouts darted past them, chasing after a third one, and Hope nearly lost her footing.
“Whoa, there.” Brent grabbed onto her elbows to steady her.
“Girls!” the scout leader warned testily. “I told you! No running!”
“That was close,” Brent said, talking about Hope’s near fall.
“Yeah, very,” she said, meaning things in another way. This was so hard, and she was liking him so much. But he wasn’t her fiancé; he was Jackie’s.
“Hey.” He placed his palm on her cheek and leaned toward her. “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I think so.” But honestly? In her heart she wasn’t so sure.
…
When Hope returned to the carriage house, it was after nine thirty. She and Brent had missed breakfast, and he’d had to dash off on his sailing trip, since he’d already been keeping the others waiting. At least she finally had her phone back. She needed to contact Jackie to fill her in on a few things.
Hope entered the kitchen just as her mom came in from the deck through the sliding glass doors. Ava was dressed prettily in a funky zebra-stripe-patterned jumpsuit with a huge crimson sash used as a belt. She wore chunky seashell earrings, a clamshell necklace, and strappy red sandals to complement the sash.
“Where on earth have you been?” she asked, noticing Hope’s sweaty outfit. “It’s nearly time for our meeting with the wedding planner. I was just heading over there now.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. Brent and I went out for a run, but Eleanor hasn’t arrived yet. I’ve just come back from the main house, and the downstairs was pretty empty.”
“Have you heard from Jackie?”
Hope pressed a button on her phone, and a slew of texts appeared, a whole bunch of them talking about—Instagram? What?
“She wants me to take photos,” Hope told her mom. “Document the meeting with the wedding planner.”
“For the wedding album?”
“I think for social media,” Hope said, continuing to flip through messages as she headed for her bedroom. “There’s too much to read here.” She glanced up at Ava. “I’ll grab a quick shower and change and give Jackie a call before meeting you up at the house.” She sent Ava a questioning look. “If I’m a few minutes late, do you think you can stall them?”
“Of course, hon. Of course.”
Hope nodded in thanks.
When she turned away, Ava asked, “Are you feeling all
right?”
Hope glanced back over her shoulder. “Yeah, why?”
Ava’s eyes glimmered with intrigue. “Your aura’s changing colors. Looks like it’s turning pink.” A smile crept onto her lips. “Are you sure you’re not the one meant for Brent, and not Jackie?”
“Mom! How could you say that? Jackie will be here tomorrow! And, by that time, her aura will be even pinker than mine. Extra pink. Super-duper pink! Flamingo pink, probably.”
Ava shared a doubtful look. “I suppose we’ll see.”
The moment her mom sashayed out the door, Hope called Jackie. And, ugh. It went straight to voicemail. So, she decided to text her instead.
Scanned through your texts.
Will read in detail later.
Wedding planner meeting in a few.
Okay on insta. Username and password, please?
Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
Let me know when!
…
At a little past ten, Hope joined the others in the main house, where she found the meeting taking place in the dining room. She glanced around the table, apologizing for running behind schedule, encountering the one unfamiliar face.
“Jackie.” A poised blonde wearing a business jacket with a fake gardenia pin on it held out her hand. “Nice to see you again.”
Hope shook hands with her across the table. “Elaine.”
“It’s Eleanor.” The wedding planner smiled tightly and glanced down at the tablet she’d brought along with her and which rested on the table. “I see we have both the moms.” She perused Grandmother Margaret. “And the grandmother.”
“It’s Mrs. Albright, dear,” Margaret said tersely, and Hope couldn’t blame her. Eleanor didn’t project the coziest vibe. In fact, she seemed a tad hostile. Hope was almost afraid to ask about taking snapshots, although she figured it would be safer to request permission.
“Oh, and you can call me Elsa.”
“Ava,” Hope’s mom said, smiling slightly, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“Fine, thanks,” Eleanor said, her gaze on her device. “First, let’s start with the problems.”
“Problems?” the rest of the women said together.
“Um…” Hope held up her hand. “Do you mind if I take some pictures?”