A Suite Geek (Suite Love Series Book 3)

by Sue Gibson

  Her pulse accelerated and she struggled to regain some professionalism, but her feet remained cemented to the rock, refusing to put distance between their bodies.

  “Thank you. I appreciate your discretion.” With the group wandering closer, she swung the conversation. “My mother is having this barbeque thing on Sunday. I plan to tell them about my promotion then.” Interest sparked in his eyes. “She promised your mother she’d feed you at least one homecooked meal while you’re in Buttermilk Falls,” she added lightly, “so if you’re not busy—”

  A smile lit his face, creasing the corners of eyes. “No, no, I’m free. Completely free.” The words tumbled from his mouth. “What time?”

  “Noon. I guess.” Flattered by his eagerness, she continued, “Dad’s stomach is ruled by the sun. Breakfast at dawn, lunch at high noon….”

  He smiled. “I think it’s a generational thing. My father is the same.” He paused, “Too bad my parents

  are in British Columbia. It’d be great to see the four of them together.”

  She nodded. Yes, it’d be lovely for the lifelong friends to reunite. As a student of human behavior, she’d love to meet his parents. According to her mother, the original odd couple.

  “So, have you received a prospectus yet or had a look at the annual budget? You really can’t plan anything until you get your hands on those two.”

  “What?” She stared at his animated expression, his words settling in her head. “No, not yet, it’s early days. Trey and Ethan have a few details to iron out with the Board before it all becomes official. Plus, there will be a panel interview.”

  “Wow, those can be intimidating.”

  She shrugged. “I’m trying not to think about that part just yet.”

  “I’d be happy to help… advice on promotion or marketing.”

  The familiar spark of anger ignited. “I’ll do just fine on my own.” The knee-jerk response was out of her mouth before she could stop herself. “Trey and Ethan have complete confidence in my abilities—otherwise they wouldn’t have submitted my name for the job.”

  He shifted against the smooth granite. “I don’t doubt your skill,” he responded matter-of-factly. “I guess I didn’t word that right, again. I mean…I want to be there for you…to support you…”

  “That’s kind of you. But I don’t need help.” Every time she gave him a chance, he stuck his foot in it.

  “Sorry. I’ve upset you. I’ve never been good at saying what I mean. Especially to a woman.”

  Burdened with her super sensitivity and his lousy

  communication skills, they were definitely a long shot as a couple. She drew in a deliberate breath. “Maybe it’s my own doubts about the job surfacing,” she conceded.

  He eased down to the warm rock. Patting the space beside him, he urged her to join him as they watched the busywork going on below.

  She called out, “Thanks, guys!” Allowing the guests to take the lead often enhanced their experience. “Let us know when it’s ready.” Maureen waved back and continued counting plastic forks.

  Crossing her arms over her knees, Christy hugged her body. She sighed. He leaned in against her shoulder and whispered, “Yeah, me too. Thanks for inviting me.”

  “Thanks for joining me Edward.” “You’re welcome. And the name is Ted.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Results prove theory. Christy’s theory that “Teds” have more fun than “Edwards” appeared to have legs. After a rocky start, their picnic proved that whenever he acted like a Ted his appeal to Christy improved. When she’d leaned into his arm while they sat on the rock, it’d felt like she did it on purpose.

  He smiled at his reflection in the mirror. Other than the tanned face and arms, he looked the same on the outside, but inside, Edward had checked out.

  Ted was as goal orientated as Edward, just different goals. While on holiday, Edward had planned to avoid the silly and pointless social scene and evade his mother’s relentless push to marry him off. Ted, on the other hand, intended to win the heart of Christy Graham , and if either of their mothers could be of any assistance—so much the better.

  Each day, he limited himself to just one of Christy’s outings. He was going for adventurous, not obsessive. Judging by Christy’s warm greetings and frequent smiles, he was on the right track.

  Taken off guard when she’d handed him her personal cell number, he’d failed to come up with a romantic suggestion before she’d left for the tennis court. Even with the almost-kiss in the parking lot, he lacked nerve.

  Christy left each day at six. The evenings, long and languid, slipped by with the easy rhythm of

  summertime in the country. Most evenings he met Stan on the docks and cast into the lake’s mirror top, hoping a bass would rise to the bait.

  His reputation as a fisherman had grown exponentially while opportunities to ask Christy out slipped away.

  He was determined to change that on Sunday.

  ****

  At 11:30 Sunday morning, the hotel buzzed with activity. Fishing boats circled the bay and children’s laughter floated up from the pool. And he was nowhere near relaxed. In thirty minutes he’d be at the Graham’s family barbeque.

  He checked the time and then the mirror. The khaki pants and white cotton shirt looked too formal for a family barbeque.

  He glanced at his closet and back again to his reflection. Jerking open his belt buckle, he dropped his pants. Kicking them to the corner, he reached for shorts. Pulling them on, he scanned the neat row of shirts. His gaze landed on the golf shirt he’d worn the first time he’d played the front nine with Christy. Pulling it from its hanger, he headed to the bathroom and his toothbrush.

  He slowed his steps and pulled in a long breath, hoping to find his center. Find my center? He shook his head. Two weeks ago he didn’t even know he had a center. After only two Tai Chi lessons, he’d found himself turning to Christy’s method of deep breathing whenever he felt stressed.

  At 11:50 he strode to the elevator, therapeutic breathing abandoned. He wiped his damp hands on his shorts and jabbed the elevator’s down button. Acting like Ted at a group event had turned out to be relatively easy. Pulling it off on

  Christy’s home turf was another matter entirely.

  Today was all about intimate connections, long- standing friendships and familial relationships. If university electives, he’d have flunked all three.

  Minutes later, hands white-knuckled on the wheel of his rental car he headed toward the village with only a vague memory of collecting the bunch of flowers he’d ordered for Mrs. Graham. He followed the main street for two blocks and turned left onto the Grahams’ pretty tree-lined lane. He’d completed a test run at 7:00 am just to be on the safe side. Easing off the gas, he signaled and pulled in behind Christy’s red Toyota and a minivan.

  Laughter floated from beyond the crowded driveway. He followed the sounds until the pavement stopped and a large, flowery, hedged yard began.

  No need to worry about making an awkward entrance, a concern he’d harbored all morning, as nobody seemed to have noticed that he’d arrived.

  An imposing, balding man flipped burgers on the grill. Lily and an older woman who he figured had to be Christy’s mother, ferried huge glass bowls from the back door to an enormous picnic table centered on the lawn. Paul and Jude, he presumed, and two blonde look-alike kids batted an inflatable ball back and forth over a net.

  A line of sweat trickled from his temple and slid down the side of his neck. Great. Tongue-tied and sweaty.

  “Oh, aren’t those pretty!”

  He looked up to the familiar feminine voice. Halfway down a set of wooden stairs attached to garage stood Christy. Immobilized, his breath seeped from his lungs with no new air returning, apparently the term breathless wasn’t a romantic myth after all.

  Her feet bare, she padded down the last few steps, her dress a long, white cotton affair attached with a golden chain behind her neck. Her hair was up today, with a flutteri
ng of blonde tendrils framing her face. As she turned to beckon her parents, he noticed that her tanned back was bare too. The lump in his throat grew to the size of a baseball.

  He remembered the bouquet of flowers in his hands. He pushed held them forward. “These are for your mother.” She looked pleased. That was good.

  “How thoughtful! Mom loves lilies.” She gently tugged the bouquet from his grasp.

  Her father and mother joined their daughter, her father sliding a protective arm over his daughter’s shoulder. “These are for you,” Christy said to her mother, handing over the bouquet.

  “Thank you!” Kathleen stuck her nose deep into the bouquet and drew in the fragrant scent. “How nice to see you again, Edward, after all these years,” she said, briefly enclosing him and the lilies in a flowery, cinnamon-scented hug. “You’ve certainly changed a lot since your last visit.” Her voice indicated approval. “Somehow I thought you’d be,” she sized him up with a glance, “more like your father.”

  He smiled. Dressing like a Ted had definitely been the right choice.

  Behind her mother’s back, Christy lowered her eyelids and shot him a conspiratorial look. He struggled to follow Kathleen’s banter, as he relished his first insider joke.

  “I sure hope you still like cinnamon buns,” Kathleen added, nodding toward the kitchen’s open door. “I made two dozen.”

  Following her glance, he scanned the yard,

  remembering now the little water feature in the corner and the sunflowers waving in the breeze. She’d made cinnamon buns that long-ago day too.

  “You never grow too old or too tall for cinnamon buns,” he assured her, his nervousness lessening under her motherly influence.

  Her father reached out to shake his hand. “Let the man in off the street, Kathleen,” he said, his words belying his obvious affection toward his wife.

  “Come on in, Edward,” he urged, slapping him on the back. “My wife will look after the introductions. Make yourself at home.”

  Whisked into the fray by a beaming Kathleen, he made the rounds before landing beside Christy in a double-seated wooden swing facing two year old April and four year old Tyler.

  “So, you survived the worst,” Christy said. “Now comes the good part—the food. It can’t have been easy, walking into this group.”

  His earlier tension mostly forgotten, he shook his head. “Piece of cake. Don’t forget, I’m coming off two weeks at the Nirvana under your private tutelage. Are you kidding me? I’ll be ready to host one of these things by the time I leave.”

  Christy’s laugh caught Lily’s attention and she hurried over to the swing. “Scooch over, guys,” she said, wiggling in between the kids. “What’s going on over here? Let me in on the joke, guys.”

  “Ted was just telling me how much he has changed since coming to stay at the hotel. He said…”

  “Who?” Confusion creased Lily’s pale, freckled forehead. Her gaze flitted over their shoulders for a second, then back to their faces.

  Christy tipped her head close to his, her second display of playful intimacy since he’d arrived. His

  chest thumped under his shirt. He wanted to kiss her right here and now, but resisted the impulsive urge. This wasn’t the time or place. For one thing, Paul’s kids and her big ex-cop father shouldn’t witness the kiss he hoped to share with Christy.

  “Ted is experimenting with the notion that your given name often frames your personality and in turn affects how others react to you.”

  Lily looked skeptical.

  “For the last two weeks he has introduced himself as Ted. Initially I suggested activities I thought a Ted might enjoy and encouraged him to step out of his comfort zone. Now he is on his own.”

  “And how is that working for you?” Lily and Christy giggled simultaneously. He sensed he’d missed a pop culture reference and feigned a laugh.

  “Great. At first I thought I couldn’t do it. But I gave it a try and you know what,” he leaned forward, “she was right. I’m having a great time.”

  “Wow.” Lily said. “I’m impressed.” Christy felt a tug of guilt. He had not been all that bad before she’d started messing with him. Who knew that geekiness possessed its own charm?

  Encouraged, he carried on the longest conversation he’d ever held with two women. And it wasn’t nearly as hard as he had imagined. “Because of Christy, I’ve met some great people and tried a bunch of new stuff.” He relaxed against the swing’s wooden back and rested his arm across Christy’s shoulders. “I do Tai Chi too.”

  Beaming, Christy patted his leg.

  Lily’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s some endorsement. You should patent your idea. It just might work for handsome introverts everywhere.”

  Christy glanced at his face, a hint of apprehension in her eyes. But he smiled his approval at Lily’s well- intentioned remark. Handsome introvert easily beat nerdy loner.

  Christy relaxed against his shoulder. “He did the work. Put himself out there. On his first day at the Nirvana I noticed his potential. All I did was offer some suggestions.”

  Potential? He had potential? He straightened his shoulders against the wooden swing.

  She turned her face up to his. “Remember that day? You were at the pool reading some business papers …”

  “Ah, they were magazines.” He was pretty certain that Teds read magazines.

  “And I reminded you how we’d met when we were kids.” She bobbed her head, curls bouncing everywhere, affirming the memory for the both of them.

  Her vivacious personality had pretty much obliterated all memory of what they had talked about that day. “Yeah, it was great to have run into you after so many years.” Try intimidating and overwhelming.

  “That’s such a fun story. Maybe I should try switching my name,” Lily said. “What do you think, Christy? What personality traits go with Lillian?”

  Christy tipped her head to the side and studied her friend. “You were born to be a Lily. Sweet, yet strong. Your parents were right to have left the legal version of your name on the birth certificate and call you Lily.”

  Lily dipped her head. “That’s lovely. But there are times when I wish I had your courage. Like when I’m at one of Ethan’s big corporate affairs drumming up

  donations for my marine research.”

  “Try deep breathing,” he interjected. “Or imagine everyone in their underwear.”

  Now it was Lily’s turn to blush. “What?” She looked at Christy with raised eyebrows.

  “Hey, I had nothing to do with that one,” her tone changed. She shifted incrementally away.

  “That’s true,” he said, happy to take credit for his effort. “After Christy convinced me to try acting like a Ted, I researched the topic on the internet and stumbled across that suggestion. Apparently, visualizing others in a more vulnerable situation boosts your courage.”

  Lily leaned in and whispered. “So does it work?” “Well, I haven’t actually tried it yet. But the basic

  concept has merit.”

  “I’m not sure Ethan would agree.” Lily laughed and clasped the children’s hands in hers. “If it takes picturing his colleagues in their you-know-whats,” she said, “to raise money, then Ethan would probably just fund the Association out of his own pocket.”

  He glanced at Christy’s face. Her smile was tight and didn’t make it as far as her eyes. He tipped his head back and knocked his head against the high wooden back. “I meant a roomful of strangers…I’d never….” Dumb idea. Dumb idea. “Well, no. Forget I even said that. There’d never be a good time…”

  “Come on, Christy, put him out of misery,” Lily pleaded, brushing away tears of laughter. “Relax, Ted. We know you’re not that kind of guy, right Christy?”

  He looked to Christy for confirmation. She looked past him, to the bed of nodding sunflowers.

  Lily stared pointedly at her friend and whispered. “You’re doing it again.”

  “I am not.” It was as though they’d forg
otten he was there.

  Bored, the children dropped Lily’s hands and raced across the grass to their grandfather.

  “Think about it. It’s Edward.” She cocked an eyebrow and dipped her chin, sending Christy a coded message, shrouded in female-speak.

  The tension eased from Christy’s face expression. “Sorry. I can be a bit overly sensitive at times.”

  “You think?” Lily reached across and patted her friend’s knee. “You’re afraid people can’t see beyond your looks, and you certainly have good reason. But this isn’t one of those times.”

  “You’re right. Again.” Lily straightened and the two women laughed with an enviable familiarity.

  “Edward probably has something he worries about—I know I do.” Lily continued.

  Beautiful women worry? “Sure.” Although enlightening, the conversation’s turn toward emotional analysis was unnerving.

  “Sorry,” Christy apologized.

  “No offense taken.” He scanned the yard for a safer topic. “Looks like the food’s ready. Let’s eat!” He extracted his tall frame from the swing and peered back at the two women. “Come on.”

  Again, a shared glance and Mona Lisa smiles passed between the two friends. “We’re right behind you, Edward,” Lily answered, followed by a giggle. “Group therapy is over for today.”

  ****

  With the cooler evening air came a brisk breeze. Christy rested against the back of her chair and plucked a paper napkin from under the ketchup bottle that had been pulled into double duty as a paper weight.

  She glanced around the table, inventorying heads. Everyone was still seated, except for Tyler and April who had escaped before coffee time to play in the sandbox.