Making Room at the Inn

by Misty Simon

  She met Brad, who was May’s husband, and Nate, who was with Claudia but not yet married to her. Mazzy immediately broke away from Grammylove when she saw Justin playing one of the old-time pinball machines her dad had set up in the billiard room. Chelsea had spent many an hour there, when she wasn’t traipsing around with Paige, and could remember Jack hitting the high score a number of times.

  For a brief moment, Chelsea hoped like hell that no one had told the elder Bartons that she and Jack were engaged. She did not want to be seen as the one who had broken their son’s heart. Not that she would have, really, but some continued acting would be necessary. Maybe she wouldn’t be coming home as often if she had to pretend to be broken up with Jack every time she visited.

  She grabbed a glass of champagne and downed it. Liquid courage was not going to help, but she wasn’t turning it down, either.

  “So where’s the bride?” Jack whispered in her ear.

  “I’m not sure. She was supposed to be here five minutes ago, but you know how she can be.”

  “No doubt. In fact I told her the wedding was a half hour before it actually is, per Paige’s instructions, just so you know.”

  Her laughter was spontaneous and turned several heads in the immediate vicinity. She dipped her chin and put her mouth on her glass of champagne. “You’re bad,” she mumbled.

  “No, I’m very, very good.” He drifted a hand over her shoulder, sifting through the new shorter strands at her neck. She couldn’t suppress the shiver but supposed it made for a good show to the people who were still looking and smiling at the two of them.

  “Why don’t you go see what’s going on with your mom, and I’ll keep an eye on the kid. I think she’s trying to get Justin to beat my high score, and we can’t have that.” He kissed the spot where his hand had rested, right at the nape of her neck, and there was no suppressing this shiver either. God, he did things to her, and he shouldn’t.

  Fortunately Belinda chose that moment to make her big entrance, and there were rounds of hugs and hellos to participate in. She ducked out to the kitchen to see if she could help and make sure that everything was in place in her capacity of wedding coordinator.

  Her mom, of course, had everything in complete order and lined up like a surgeon. Tiny curls of vegetables in Belinda’s wedding colors garnished meat and cheese platters. An array of dips were set up in bread bowls, with the hollowed-out parts of the bread in piles to be used for dipping. A huge sheet cake sat on the small breakfast nook table waiting for Belinda and Marcus to practice their cake-cutting moves.

  “It looks perfect, Mom.”

  “Thanks, sweetie. And just think, this is perfect practice for yours in a little bit. I do need the actual date as soon as you have it, because I think it would be great to get together with Jack’s mom to see what kind of ideas she has for the many parties I’m sure we’ll have. They have a lot of out-of-town relatives, so they’ll need ample time to get here. And I really want to do right by you this time, since I wasn’t able to do more than take you out to lunch after the last one.”

  Chelsea’s gut clenched at the reminder of her wedding day with Paul. It had been a quickie thing, done at the justice of the peace, with a small lunch afterward—at Denny’s, if she remembered right. She’d thought she was so in love she didn’t need the trappings. She’d even worn a little sundress that she’d picked up at a thrift store. It wasn’t much, and she still believed that with the right person it could have been beautiful, but even then she’d had her misgivings about her decision. He’d been attentive and loving but totally focused on what he wanted. As far as he’d been concerned, there was no need for family or friends because they were already pretty much married. She’d gone along with it because at the time she’d thought it was romantic, but later she’d known better.

  And then it had ended much more quietly than it had started, with even less fanfare than a short wedding with lunch. He hadn’t even taken her to dinner. He’d simply told her he was moving out and would have his things out by the weekend. And he had. She hadn’t seen him since. She’d tried to call and email, but he’d shut down his phone and ignored her emails except to tell her once that he’d pay child support. The divorce was signed without contest, and they’d really had nothing to split. She hadn’t wanted anything but for him to love them, and if she couldn’t have that, she didn’t want anything more.

  Maybe Mazzy was better off without him.

  But even now that felt disloyal. Shouldn’t she continue to try to get him involved? Wouldn’t Mazzy miss not having a father, especially when the man lived less than ten minutes from their apartment?

  She crunched her way through a carrot, absentmindedly, until her mother took her left hand.

  “Holy wow! That is beautiful, sweetheart! Where on earth did he find something that is so you?”

  It was just the two of them in the kitchen. Chelsea was tempted to just break down and tell her mother it was all a farce. But she couldn’t. It was only a few more days, and then she’d come up with some spectacular reason why it wouldn’t work out between her and Jack. She could pull it off until Sunday. She had to. And then she’d call her mother and tell her it just wasn’t a good fit for either of them, and it would be forgotten in a short time. Or at least that was what she’d started telling herself, to put down her guilt for the lying.

  “It was his grandmother’s ring.”

  “Oh, my word, that’s lovely. You never did tell me where he proposed,” she said as she retrieved pigs-in-a-blanket from the oven and popped some tiny quiches in.

  Thank God they’d worked this out in the speakeasy. “Actually it was the first night I got here. He took me out to the gazebo, where Belinda’s getting married, and got down on one knee, with the moonlight shining and the smell of flowers fresh in the air. He told me he loved me and wanted me to know the kind of commitment he wanted to make to me. He asked me to be his and to wear his ring.”

  Her mom had a tear in her eye and swiped at the ones trickling down her cheek. She came in for a full body hug. “Oh, honey, I am so very happy for you. I wasn’t sure if you would ever find anyone who was worthy, but you have, and that just makes my heart sing!”

  It made the bottom of Chelsea’s stomach drop out. She could almost see Jack doing that, looking at her with those incredible eyes, his deep voice giving her the words she’d never thought she wanted again.

  It would have been perfect if it were true. But it wasn’t true, and she had to remember that. They’d be breaking up in a matter of days. Her mother was going to be heartbroken. Her father said it would be more than wishful thinking to call Jack “son,” and she’d crash that right to the ground.

  She had opened her mouth to tell her mother it was all a lie when Belinda came hustling into the kitchen. “Hey, Chelsea. Everything looks great! Do we have all the food I listed for Paige?”

  “Yes.” She tucked her hand behind her back.

  “Oh, wait. I know that gesture. Did he give you one? Tell me he did! Let’s see this ring.”

  Chelsea obliged by giving her hand over.

  “Wow, that is amazing. I can just see all the colors you could build around this gem to make the perfect wedding. Oh! Something at Christmas, with garlands and sleek red velvet dresses. It could be outside for the vows, with red capes trimmed in white fur with fur muffs. I’ll get with Paige to discuss it!” And she started rummaging around in the junk drawer, presumably for pen and paper. She chortled when she found them and started writing furiously while their mother looked on fondly.

  This was a hole Chelsea was never going to be able to dig herself out of.

  ****

  Driving home with Mazzy snoring softly in the back seat and Chelsea looking out the side window at the abundance of stars in the sky, Jack congratulated himself on a job well done. He’d made the appropriate noises, held Chelsea’s hand when it felt right, and stroked his hand over her hair every once in a while when he walked past her. For anyone who had been loo
king, they were a couple in love, ready to make a commitment to each other sometime in the next year. Someone had questioned Chelsea about what she would do when she moved up here, and Chelsea had evaded the question by saying she would look into things when the details were finalized.

  Good answer, but it made him yearn for things that just weren’t real.

  Pulling up in front of the house, he gently shook Chelsea out of her reverie, then hooked his arms under the little girl who had stolen his heart long before she’d snuggled into his lap to fall asleep after running around like a kid with way too much sugar—which she had been.

  He had to be careful, he reminded himself for the hundredth time as he climbed up the stairs to Mazzy and Chelsea’s room. He could get way too used to this. He just didn’t know if his heart could take it. Fake engagement or not, it felt too real. He should never have agreed to fake something that fulfilled the dreams he hadn’t known were buried inside himself.

  Chapter Six

  “I need a change in the menu for the reception.” Belinda Moore, soon to be Belinda Rushland, swept into the foyer with her usual flair on Wednesday morning. Her face set in rigid lines, the morning sunshine streaming across her back, she could have been an avenging angel, but she had nothing to avenge —other than every little detail of the upcoming event, Jack mused resignedly.

  Three days remained until the wedding, and Jack had thought things were moving along nicely, even if Chelsea had been avoiding him since last night. It was probably for the best, since all he’d dreamed about last night was kissing her for real. It had haunted his dreams. But now he had this woman ghosting him with her demands. Honestly, he didn’t know if he’d be able to survive another request.

  The inn was hosting another breakfast this morning, this one for just the bridal party so details could be finalized. Quiche, fruit, and orange juice were to be on the table in twenty minutes when everyone showed up for the meal, but Belinda had been here and hounding him intermittently over the past forty-five minutes. He hadn’t heard Chelsea or Mazzy stir from upstairs yet, but he desperately wished they would.

  Jack barely resisted putting his head into his hands. Instead he kept his smile firmly in place. It was too early in the morning for this. “What changes do you need?”

  “I want both red and green leaf lettuce in the salad, not just green. I want it to look festive.”

  This was the fifth request he’d had since she’d popped in on him at 7:30 in the kitchen while he briefed Frank on what meals he’d be providing during the rest of the week. She’d followed him in, starting with a request for a revision in plans for the manicures, followed by other changes, and now this lettuce thing.

  Instead of massaging the headache he felt brewing, he said, “I thought you had requested a Caesar salad for the meal.”

  She looked at him with her eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline.

  “Of course we can have whatever you’d like,” he said, stifling a groan. “Red and green leaf lettuce it is.” He made a note on his clipboard, wishing he’d given in to Adele’s demands to use an electronic device to download info and keep everyone connected and updated. It would be so much easier than the five things he had crossed out and rewritten this morning. He’d have to add them to his spreadsheet when he returned to his office, and then print out new lists. Poor wasted trees.

  “Good.” She stalked off through the library room archway but didn’t get far before Chelsea intercepted her. The two sisters tangled for a moment, waltzing to get out of each other’s way, until Chelsea saw him standing there. Then she turned Belinda around and hustled her back over his way.

  This could either go very well or very, very poorly. He braced himself for either, watching the way Chelsea came toward him with her nearly mesmerizing hip swing. He snapped out of it a moment before he’d have embarrassed himself by drooling. Really, he was too old to be affected like this.

  He warily watched the approach of the two women, not sure if he was going to get blasted for not giving Chelsea’s sister everything she wanted or if he would be in the midst of a fight between the two. He’d done both before. He enjoyed neither. The look on Chelsea’s face and the mulish expression on Belinda’s made him realize he probably wasn’t going to enjoy it this time, either.

  “What did she change?” Chelsea demanded as soon as they were within touching distance.

  “Hello to you, too, and good morning.”

  “I don’t have time for that,” she said, waving his sarcasm away with the flick of her wrist. “Tell me what she changed so I can filter it through her fiancé’s reasoning.”

  Belinda harrumphed, crossing her arms over her chest, obviously not happy. But she hadn’t said anything yet.

  “Did you want to know what she changed right now or all the things she’s asked to change since 7:30?” he asked innocently. He did not want to piss off his client, but he didn’t want to take Chelsea by surprise, either.

  Chelsea gave him the same raised eyebrows Belinda had, but for some reason they looked softer on Chelsea. Then again, everything looked good on Chelsea.

  “All of them.” She, too, crossed her arms. The two sisters looked like lush, ultra-feminine bookends except for their hair. Chelsea’s was soft and short instead of trailing down her back. She cleared her throat, getting him back on task.

  Reading from his clipboard, he listed the things Belinda had changed this morning. “She wants fresh flowers in her room both the night before the wedding, when she moves in, and the morning after the wedding.”

  Chelsea raised one eyebrow higher than the other, but he continued.

  “Instead of going to get manicures on the previously scheduled day, she would like to go the morning of the wedding, to preserve the beauty of the work.”

  That got a muffled snort.

  “Every person is to receive a packet of bird seed, and she would like those finished today.”

  Now Chelsea’s foot started tapping, but she uncrossed her arms and held onto Belinda’s arm as if to keep her from escaping.

  “She would like for me to arrange to have cans tied to the back of Marcus’s car, and a big sign that reads ‘Just Married’ attached above them.”

  “Oy!”

  “And she wants festive red and green leaf lettuce instead of the Caesar. We have yet to discuss dressings, though, so I can’t update you on that.” He fought to keep his laughter in check while Chelsea looked at Belinda and then looked back at him with an expression that fully conveyed her exasperation.

  “Unmake all those notes you already made, and let’s start over again.”

  Belinda’s eyes widened. “Chelsea, you can’t do this!”

  “Oh, yes, I can. Especially since you specifically asked me to stop you if you went off the deep end with ridiculous requests.” She turned back to Jack and he felt the full power of her gaze. “Let’s start with number one. You do not want fresh flowers brought to your room on the morning after the wedding, because hopefully you will be asleep with your new husband after a night of unimagined passion.” She gave Jack a cheeky smile that he shared as he went down the rest of the list with her.

  ****

  Chelsea tried hard to keep her cool while dealing with all the things her sister was attempting to change at the last minute. At least she had warned Jack ahead of time that Belinda would be difficult. She should have specifically told him that all changes needed to be filtered through herself, though. After the bridal party finished the delicious quiche Frank had made, she spent over an hour finalizing all the details with them, often over Belinda’s strident demands for everything to be different.

  And now Chelsea took a moment to lean her hip against the banister after sending Belinda on her way. Chelsea had a headache just thinking about the handful of days left until Saturday. Thankfully it was almost over.

  This attraction she felt for Jack every time she was within breathing distance didn’t help. She could smell the woodsy scent and something uniquely him, feel it
caressing her skin along with his gaze now that they were alone again.

  “I’m really sorry about that,” she said, hoping to break the tension sitting thick in the air whenever she let him get near her.

  “Believe me, it’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened here.” He laughed, a rumble that vibrated along her skin. He should not affect her like this, and yet she felt helpless against the onslaught.

  “Well, I had hoped to avoid it, though I was pretty sure it was going to happen anyway. I think I have her under control now, after everyone ganged up on her at breakfast.”

  “Believe me, it’s not a big deal. But I wish you had told me she needed to go through you first. It would have left me free the other four times she tried to change everything today. She was after me all morning.”

  Groaning, she put her hand to her forehead, then felt the slight roughness of his hand as it took hers and held it between both of his own. She should pull back out of his personal space, but she couldn’t seem to make herself take the step her head knew was best for her.

  “It’s really nothing. I expected something like this, so I wasn’t surprised.”

  She laughed. “I sure hope you put combat pay into your prices, then, because I have a feeling you have not seen the last of her, no matter what I think I accomplished at breakfast.” Now she did finally take her hands from his, tucking them around her waist as she crossed her arms. “Let me know if she tries to change anything again, and we’ll get it sorted out.” She shook her head ruefully. “I knew this was not going to be the vacation she promised me it would be.”

  He didn’t try to hold her hands again, but he did rest a gentle palm on her shoulder. “If you’d like, we can go down and have a glass of wine.”

  Which made her laugh again. She hadn’t laughed this much in years. “Except that it’s only about 9:30 in the morning. And before you say it, yes, I know it’s five o’clock somewhere, but that’s not here.”