He followed her gaze. “I’ve got time. George and Charly can handle the gym for the weekend. Chloe can man the shop on Saturday. You said yourself yesterday that business will slow enough to allow some breathing room. Let’s do it. Let’s be spontaneous. It will be good for Gaby to get away and relax. The island won’t be crowded. Think of it. Long walks on empty beaches. Fish boils on the docks. We could bike around the island tomorrow.” He kissed her hard, persuasively, punctuating each statement with his mouth against hers. “Come on. Say yes. You know you want to.”
“What if Fleming calls?”
“We’ll have our phones. They have reception on the Vineyard.” His eyes glittered, as if he knew he was wearing her down. “After dinner, we can make a bonfire on the beach.” He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Then after Gaby goes inside for the night...”
She laughed as he licked the outer rim to drive home his meaning.
Heat fired in her veins at his touch, melting her hesitation. He’d just promised to tell her a ghost story. She laughed softly at him. “Fine. But if I get scared, I’ll be sleeping with the lights on.”
“You won’t need them. You’ll have me.”
She smiled at him. “I’ll have you,” she agreed.
After saying goodbye to Gunnar when he left for work, Mal walked into her workroom and began mixing a new batch of lotion. She’d actually miss being able to concoct things while still in her pajamas once she moved this part of the operation to the new store. Her work was a great way to distract her thoughts from the countersuit. It was tough to worry about the future when surrounded by rich scents like lemon grass and ginger.
When Gaby walked in ninety minutes later, coffee cups clutched in her hands, Mal jumped. She stretched a cramp out of her back. “Morning. I didn’t realize the time.”
Gaby handed her a cup. “I brought you coffee. It’s early still. I couldn’t sleep. Guess I’m not the only one, huh?”
“Guilty.” The coffee was hot, strong, and flavored. The rich nutty aroma filled her senses. “Mmm. I should probably tell you drinking coffee at your age is not a good idea. But darn, girl! You make a wonderful cup. I hereby abdicate all brewing responsibilities to you.”
“Brewmeister. I like it.” A pale reflection of her normal, happy smile ghosted across her lips.
“Gunnar and I were talking. He’s invited us to go to Martha’s Vineyard this weekend for a little get-away. I told him we’d go. It’ll be fun.”
“Really? Awesome.” The girl practically vibrated with giddy excitement. “I’ll go pack. I’ll be ready to go in thirty minutes.”
“Hold up, kiddo. We’re not leaving until after school.”
“No, let’s go now. I want to go right away. I don’t have to go to school today.”
“Of course you do. Gunnar has to go to work, and so do I. The shop is wrecked after yesterday, and I can’t leave it for Chloe to clean. We’ll leave around four this afternoon. After classes.”
“Aw. Are you sure?” Gaby’s tone was pleasantly wheedling.
She hadn’t realized how much she missed normal Gaby. She didn’t like the sullen version the teen had become since getting the news about the VonLachen’s. “I’m sure. We’ll take the seven-fifteen ferry and get a late dinner once we get there. Go get ready for school.”
Gaby threw her arms around Mal’s shoulders, hugging her hard. Mal juggled her coffee mug to keep it from spilling all over the table where she’d been working. Delight sprawled through her soul as Gaby skipped from the room.
The late morning dragged in the shop. She traded Chloe the day off in exchange for her running the shop on Saturday. Mal filled the hours with restoring order to the shelves and cupboards and doing inventory to determine which supplies she needed to re-order. Once she finished that, she turned her attention to cleaning the big front windows.
She was almost done when a familiar car pulled into an angled parking spot in front of the shop. Oh crap! She’d recognize that obnoxious hood ornament anywhere. The very last thing she needed right now was another run-in with the Aubrey-Smith family.
Mrs. A.S. popped out of the car, every bit as scary as a Jack-in-the-box. The merry tune that accompanied the toy’s action jangled through Mal’s brain as the Momzilla practically goose-stepped to the shop’s entry. The smirk on her lips might have passed for a smile in her circle. The bell over the door tinkled merrily, at odds with the dread tolling though Mal. This was the moment she’d worried about. The matriarch of the first family of Granite Pointe was coming to gloat about her plans to blackball Malin as a wedding planner. All because her aggressive, man-eating—
She plastered a smile on her lips and greeted the woman. “Good morning, Mrs. Aubrey-Smith. How may I help you today?”
“May-lin, I must speak to you about a matter of utmost urgency. Our wedding is back on! Ashleigh and her darling fiancé have made up and are going to get married.” She clapped her hands and shuffled her feet. Possibly as close as she’d ever get to doing a happy dance.
Mal’s eyebrows shot so far up she felt the skin above them crease in protest. She put a hand to her forehead, pretending to brush her hair to the side, surreptitiously rubbing away the wrinkle lines. This was definitely not what she’d expected when the woman had pranced in. “That’s... um, that’s... I don’t know what to say.”
“Of course, we’ve already released the ballroom and the caterer, so we’ve had to make some adjustments to the arrangements. I do so hope you’ll be able to do the flowers. Ashleigh does have her heart set on my idea of the brooch bouquet.” Mrs. A.S. narrowed her eyes while taking credit for Mal’s idea. Her lips pursed together, creating rising crevices around her mouth. She gave a slight shake of her head, then looked directly at Mal. “She would have come with me today, but she had…uh...something else to attend to.”
Or, maybe, she was just too embarrassed to show up in Mal’s store after their encounter in Gunnar’s office. But Mal was okay with taking the high road. “I see. Of course I’d be happy to prepare the flowers.”
“Wonderful!” The woman dug in her oversized Hermes handbag and pulled out a satin pouch. She thrust it into Mal’s hands. “These are some of our family heirloom pieces I’d like to see you incorporate into the bouquet. Of course, we’ll expect you to secure other pieces to fill in around these. But be sure the quality stays consistent.”
And she was back...smug superior attitude and everything. What the hell? It wouldn’t hurt for Mal to stay in the role she’d been assigned. At least, Mrs. A.S. hadn’t gleefully announced her intention to ruin Mal and her business. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be sure Ashleigh has a bouquet everyone will envy.”
After they’d discussed the details and locations, Momzilla glided out of the shop with her regal attitude in tow. Mal smiled and waved goodbye as she reversed out of her space and crept at a snail’s pace down Front Street. Mal giggled then clapped a hand over her mouth when several tourists pointed to the vehicle as it rolled past. It was exactly what Mrs. A.S. wanted to happen.
Shaking her head, Mal stowed the Aubrey-Smith precious jewels in a locking cabinet under the cash wrap and went back to work on the windows.
At three-thirty, she put the closed sign in the door then locked up. She hurried home to pack a bag. Gunnar would pick them up in an hour. She wanted to be ready to walk out the door the minute he arrived.
Gaby arrived at the house fifteen minutes later. They both flew around the place, shoving clothes into overnight bags, throwing together snacks to tide them over on the ride south until they could get dinner. Gunnar had told Mal his grandfather’s house had four bedrooms right on the water with a complete kitchen setup. Mal packed a cooler with groceries for breakfasts.
“Hey, who’s ready to road-trip?” Gunnar asked as Gaby opened the front door for him.
Dressed in faded, worn jeans, he wore a thick, dark green cable sweater that perfectly complemented his blond hair and deep blue eyes. His heavy boots echoed hollowly on the hardwoo
d entry floor. Mal lost her breath when he winked over Gaby’s shoulder as he accepted a hug from the girl.
“I’m so excited,” Gaby gushed as she let him go. “I haven’t been to the Vineyard since before my dad died. What part of the island are we going to?”
He strode over to Mal and enveloped her in a tight hug. He groaned softly into her ear at the full body contact. Mal was pretty sure if Gaby hadn’t been present, he’d have swept her into his arms and charged up the stairs to her bedroom. As it was, he dropped his hand to her lower back and pressed her close. She didn’t want to let go. Didn’t want him to let go.
But he did. He stepped away from her, regret evident in the set of his lips. “Silas’s house is near West Chop,” he answered.
“Oh, that’s a pretty area. Mal, have you ever been there?”
“Can’t say I have. Dad took me over on the ferry once, but I spent more time trying to keep him out of the pubs on Main Street than paying attention to the scenery.” And wasn’t that a Debby Downer thing to say. She wanted to call those words back.
They didn’t seem to bother Gaby, who continued chattering about the island.
Gunnar bent and inventoried the contents of the cooler. “Looks like I’m going to love breakfast for the next two days. Sausage, bacon, pancake mix. Anything we don’t have, we can walk to the market to get.” He stood and hefted the box, then grabbed one of the suitcases. “Gaby, help me get these out to the car, okay?”
She nodded, her ponytail flopping with the motion. She grabbed her bag and the pillow she’d brought to use in the car and followed him out the door. She smacked into his back when he stopped abruptly.
“Daisy Mae, it looks like you forgot syrup. Got any?” he asked.
“I’ll get it and be right out.”
She swung the door partially closed and hurried back to the kitchen. Her phone rang while she searched the pantry for the pure maple syrup she knew she had. She pulled the device from her coat pocket and clicked it on without looking at the display.
“Is that you, Ms. Eckert?”
Mal froze, her heart faltering at the sound of Anthony Fleming’s voice. “Have you heard something?”
“Yes. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long. I know you must have been anxious.”
Now was not the time for him to make small talk. A lump the size and texture of a block of floral foam formed in her throat. “What?” she croaked.
“The copy of Mr. Jansen’s will the VonLachen’s presented is an outdated version. In fact, two new wills have been filed since the copy they had executed. Harriet Jansen’s wishes will stand. The VonLachen’s have decided not to pursue custody. You will remain Gabriella’s guardian until her eighteenth birthday at which time you will continue as administrator of her trust fund until her twenty-fifth birthday.”
She eased the pantry door shut, pressed her back to it, and slid to the ground. Tears welled up in her eyes, then spilled over, splashing on the phone clutched in her hand. She drew a deep breath, replenishing the store of oxygen depleted while she’d held her breath waiting for his words. “Oh my, God. That’s it? It’s all over?”
“There are still some formalities to see to, but, yes, it is over. Gaby will remain with you.”
After disconnecting from Fleming, Mal leaned her head back against the pantry door. Her sister, the girl she had never known about but who now owned a corner of her heart, would stay. She covered her eyes with her hand and released the anxiety that had gripped her for the past week. She didn’t bother to check her tears. Footsteps approached her from the front door, followed by Gunnar’s laughter at something Gaby had said. The laughter died at the door to the kitchen.
“Oh, God! We lost, didn’t we?” Gaby wailed. “I have to move to Missouri, don’t I?”
Mal lowered her hand and saw Gaby’s pale face and the look concern on Gunnar’s. The two people she loved most in the world, standing before her, certain all their lives were about to change. And they were, but for the better.
Mal lurched to her feet. Gunnar scooted around Gaby where she’d stood rooted in the doorway.
Brushing away the traces of her tears, Mal directed a watery smile at Gaby. “VonLachen’s document didn’t hold up. They aren’t pursuing the matter any more. It’s over, Gaby. You’re stuck with me.” She held her arms wide.
Gaby raced across the room and threw herself into Mal’s embrace. Mal staggered against Gunnar’s shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around both of them. Gaby’s shoulders shook with happy sobs. Mal started crying again, relieved at the outcome. Gunnar lifted his hand from Gaby’s back and pressed it to his cheeks, scrubbing away the tears Mal saw glistening there. The clock above the sink ticked quietly as they stood huddled in a tight circle.
Gaby heaved a ragged sigh and stepped away, an oversized smile on her face. “It’s over. I get to stay.” She hugged her arms to her middle, and her grin grew larger. She looked at Gunnar. “Ask her now.”
Confusion danced over his features. “What?”
Gaby tipped her head to the side and dropped her arms, clasping her hands together. “To marry you, silly. You said you would when the time was right. I think it’s right now.”
“Gaby!” Shock at her boldness ripped through Mal.
Gunnar said, “It’s the perfect time.”
Mal’s mouth dropped open. “Gunnar—”
He cut her off. “She’s right.”
He grasped her hand, smoothing his thumb over the backs of her fingers. “Before, if I’d asked, you’d have thought I did it because I wanted to help you keep Gaby. You’d never fully believe I wanted to marry you for you. Because I love you more than anything else on this earth. But now, you’ll have no reason to doubt my sincerity. Or my love.”
He dipped his mouth to hers, claiming it with a firm press of his lips. She softened her mouth against his, and he swept his tongue in. Wrapping his arms around her shoulders he changed the angle of his head and deepened the kiss.
Gaby giggled. “Hey, I can give you guys some privacy if you want.”
Gunnar’s lips quirked up in a smile, and he broke the seal between their lips. “No, you should stay.”
Mal spared a glance for her sister. “You should go.”
Gaby shook her head. “Gunnar said I should stay. I’m staying. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
He lowered himself to one knee, grasped both her hands, and lifted his face to hers.
Malin’s heart flipped and flipped again as she gazed at him kneeling before her.
His eyes glowed. “Malin Eckert. I love you with everything I am. You are my breath when I can’t breathe. My world would not be complete without you. You’re my best friend. Will you marry me?”
This was everything she could hope for. They’d be a family. The three of them, Gunnar, Gaby, and her. The girl who’d wormed her way into Mal’s heart one sullen, sweet inch at a time. The man she tried hard to not to fall for, but in the end, couldn’t avoid loving.”
Tears sparked in her eyes again. She squeezed his fingers. “I love you so much. Yes, Gunnar. I’ll marry you. Gladly.”
He bounded to his feet as Gaby whooped it up behind them. He crushed Mal to his chest and sealed the deal with a searing, promising kiss. “I love you,” he said as he surfaced for air.
“Hey, I hate to ruin an absolutely lovely party, here.” Gaby wrapped her fingers around Mal’s and tugged. “But if we don’t get going soon, we’re going to miss the ferry.”
Gunnar shouted a laugh to the ceiling then grabbed Gaby, pulling her in for a family hug. Surrounding them in love and laughter and the prospect for a happy future spent smelling the roses together.
Also by Gemma Brocato
The Five Sense Series
Cooking Up Love
Hearts In Harmony
Exposed To Passion
A Winter Wedding
Science Fiction Romance
Mission: Mistletoe
About The Author
Gemma's favor
ite desk accessories for many years were a circular wooden token, better known as a 'round tuit,' and a slip of paper from a fortune cookie proclaiming her a lover of words; some day she'd write a book. All it took was a transfer to the United Kingdom, the lovely English springtime, and a huge dose of homesickness to write her first novel. Once it was completed and sent off with a kiss, even the rejections addressed to 'Dear Author' were gratifying.
After returning to America, she spent a number of years as a copywriter, dedicating her skills to making insurance and the agents who sell them sound sexy. Eventually, her full-time job as a writer interfered with her desire to be a writer full-time and she left the world of financial products behind to pursue an avocation as a romance author.
Her gamble paid off when she was a 2012 Finalist in the prestigious Golden Pen contest for Romantic Suspense and she received contracts for her first and second book.
To learn more about Gemma and her works,
or to subscribe to her newsletter visit:
Website and Blog
http://www.gemmabrocato.com
Facebook
https://www.facebook.com/gemma.brocato
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/GemmaBrocato
Goodreads
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7229886.Gemma_Brocato
Newsletter Sign Up
Sign up for Gemma’s Newsletter for updates, exclusive content, new release information,
cover reveals and more.
http://eepurl.com/54Kqj
Cooking Up Love
Five Senses Book #1
A spicy attraction, a sweet small town, and a tasty mystery cook up a delectable romance…
Jemima George leads a charmed life in New York City as a personal chef to reality T.V.’s latest darling. But all that changes when her Aunt Caro suddenly dies under odd circumstances—bequeathing her a small café in picturesque New England. Jem intends to sell it and continue her fast-paced career—until her cheating boyfriend, and a deliciously sexy local contractor, lead her to re-think her recipe for happiness.
Bed Of Roses (The Five Senses Series Book 4) Page 27