Making Room at the Inn

by Misty Simon

  “Why the sigh?” He still lounged on the hard bench as if he had all the time in the world and nothing more to do with it than entertain her. And maybe he didn’t. He had the inn, but that was where his responsibilities ended. He didn’t have a young girl depending on him or rent to pay.

  “It’s nothing.” She took another swallow of the wine and tried to swallow her tears with it.

  “It is something, Chelsea. You know you can talk to me. You’ve always been able to talk to me.”

  Not always. She’d told him things when he’d catch her crying over some guy, but it was always Paige she talked to. She hadn’t even had his email address when she found out she had to coordinate getting up here for the wedding. She’d had to get it from Paige.

  Her silence must have made him rethink his statement. “You don’t have to tell me anything, of course. I didn’t mean to make it sound like you had to confide in me. Sorry.” He sat up straight from his slouch and she wondered if she had wounded his ego. But Jack had so little ego.

  “No, really, don’t get all pouty on me. I was just thinking about how we lost touch and that I was sorry to see it, though I didn’t realize it at the time. We each had our own lives and we weren’t constantly around each other anymore. I don’t think I realized how much I missed that until I showed up this week.”

  “Well, of course you missed me. I’m the best.”

  He was, especially because he made her laugh. “Anyway, I can’t change the past, but I’m doing a fair job of trying to not make the same mistakes in the future.” Toying with the wine glass, she looked up at him from beneath her lashes. “I know you said you wouldn’t bring Paul up again, but can I?”

  “Yes, definitely. I told you I wouldn’t mention him, but you certainly can if you want. I didn’t want you to feel pressured, earlier.”

  “No pressure,” she said, and squeezed his long fingers where they rested on the table. “It was just really hard to have him leave when I finally thought it might be my turn to go to college and I could get myself back on the track I had envisioned for myself.” She rose from the bench, not able to sit still and stare at him while she laid her heart bare, but knowing he was one person who would listen to her and not tell any of her secrets.

  “That seems reasonable.”

  “Not to Paul. He was involved with school and trying so hard to make good grades he often wasn’t home, and when he was, he was sleeping. And then he graduated right before Mazzy’s first birthday.” She turned back toward him and took a sip of wine. She rested the bottom of the glass on her palm, pressing it into her flesh. “He was supposed to stay home with her in the evenings. He got a great job within two months and should have been home with Mazzy at night so I could go to school. But after a week, he said he was done and apparently not cut out to be a father.” She laughed but it was a sad laugh. “One week and suddenly everything was different. I dropped out of my courses and took back all my hours at work. They were happy to have me back and I was happy to have something to pay the bills.” She took one last swallow and put the glass down on the table. When he went to refill it, she put her hand over the top to stop him. “The rest is history, as the saying goes.”

  “Why didn’t you move back here? Your mom would have helped you out with Mazzy and maybe you could have gone to school.”

  “I’m a naïve fool is why. I kept thinking that if Mazzy was accessible to Paul then he would miss her and come back to see her. But he never has. We have a life there, too. I can’t rip her out of everything she knows to come running home to mommy with my tail tucked between my legs.” She paced.

  He stood, too, and stepped in front of her to cup her chin. “That’s some pretty rough talk coming from someone whose mother adores her and her child and would welcome you back with open arms the second you said anything.”

  To avoid his all-seeing gaze, she dropped her head to his chest and felt something give a little inside when he wrapped his arms around her. “But I made my choices. Now I have to live with them.”

  “And you have, but if there’s an easier way to do things, why not take it? Why not come home?”

  Her mind a whirl, she looked up into his eyes and did the one thing she knew she shouldn’t. It wouldn’t change anything, wouldn’t make anything better but could maybe make things worse. She did it anyway, laying her lips on his in a kiss that was laced with confusion and longing.

  Chapter Ten

  Jack savored the taste of her lips. Like fine wine with a slight hint of salt, they moved under his own like silk. With gentle prodding he was able to get her to open her mouth, and he swooped in.

  Their tongues played across one another as he crushed her to him. Every part of her lined up with every part of him and had him yearning. This is what he had been craving. This was what had kept him awake last night. To hell with thinking he had any kind of point to make. The only point right now was that he wanted her and meant to have her.

  He went from cupping the back of her head to cupping her rounded bottom with some interesting detours in between. Boosting her up onto the table next to them, he nudged her knees open so he could stand between them and press up against her heat. The skin of her back was tantalizing under her shirt, silky and soft and so very pliant as he pressed his fingers into her flesh. He made a slow trail from her waist band to her shoulders and then went back for another pass. The whole while he kept his hand at the base of her skull and her head tipped up toward his as he ravaged her mouth.

  She made noises in the back of her throat and sighed into his mouth, driving him just that much crazier. What would she sound like if he had her under him? How good would they be together in bed when it was obvious they were good together out of it?

  Her hands joined the game, running up and down his back, curving over his shoulders and then down. She made hasty work of getting his polo untucked and putting her hands on the skin of his stomach. Now he was the one groaning into her mouth. Her fingers were light, trailing what felt like butterfly wings over skin that was hot enough to scorch a field to dust.

  He returned the favor and had the pleasure of finding out her bra was made of some kind of lacy fabric, her nipples pressing against the material to peak in the centers of his palms.

  There would be no little girl for interruption this time. No monitor that came through loud and clear as Mazzy was waking up. All his staff were off doing other things. Even if they weren’t they wouldn’t come down here at this time of night.

  He pressed up more firmly against her, loving the give of her thighs. Through his jeans and hers, he felt the heat of her and craved it like he had never craved anything before.

  She tugged on his hair and brought his mouth more fully down on hers, taking his tongue in her mouth like it was a prisoner.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” he said on a ragged breath. He would take her here, right on this table, but he wanted their first time to be something more than a quickie in the speakeasy. Backing away from her, he drew in her shaky exhale while taking her hand and helping her off the table.

  “My legs aren’t going to hold me,” she said on a small laugh. “I’m not sure I can walk.”

  “Let me carry you then.”

  Even as she protested, he swung her up into his arms, enjoying the armful that was definitely all Chelsea.

  She giggled like she used to when they were doing something they shouldn’t. It was music to his ears. He kissed her lips to keep the contact going and hoped he made it all the way up to his room. They might have to only make it to her room, though, and then continue the journey to his suite later in the night. They had time.

  “Put me down or you’re going to break your back,” she said as they reached the top of the stairs from the basement. As much as he would like to be a he-man, he had to admit that, though romantic, actually carrying someone up a full two flights of stairs might not be the smartest thing to do. He kissed her once more at the bottom of the second staircase, pressing her up against the banister. Sh
e felt so good everywhere. The need to get under those clothes to see how Chelsea had grown up overwhelmed him.

  This was a culmination of every one of his recent fantasies, but it would be so much more because it had been such a long time coming.

  They barely made it to her room. His shirt was out of his pants and up around his armpits as she kissed and licked him in places he hadn’t known were erogenous. She fumbled with the doorknob behind her, laughing into his mouth when she couldn’t get it open. Reaching beyond her, he did it himself and nearly fell into the room as she jumped up onto his hips and wrapped her legs around him.

  “My God,” he groaned, pulling her more fully against him, catching his hands underneath her and standing in the center of the room.

  “Bed, bed, bed.” She ran her fingers through his short hair over and over again, kissing him as if she wanted to devour him. And maybe she did.

  Or at least he thought she did until her legs slid down from his hips and she turned her head aside as he tried to follow her down with his mouth.

  Breathing heavily, he stared at her as she stared past his shoulder. She had a look in her eyes he couldn’t decipher. Cupping her chin in his hand, he tried to get her to look up at him, but she yanked her head aside and took a step back.

  “Did I do something wrong?” He turned to see what she was staring at and noticed the door to Mazzy’s room was standing open. The little girl’s bed was perfectly made up, with her blanket on the top in a place of pride.

  “No.”

  The tears standing in her eyes didn’t make him feel any better. “Then what is it? We were going hot and heavy and then you went cold on me.”

  A single tear fell. She lifted her hand to wipe it away but he did it for her, catching her hand in his and lifting it to his lips. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I can’t do this.” She took another step back but it felt like a mile.

  “Why?” As far as he was concerned they were two consenting adults who had known each other forever. She must have feelings for him, since he knew she’d never just jump into bed with anyone who walked by. She had to know she meant a lot to him. He didn’t see the problem.

  Still not looking at him, she said, “I have Mazzy to think about, and a job promotion when I get back home that will make our lives easier. I can’t do this with you and then go back to my house as if nothing has happened. It’s hard enough pretending to be engaged to you and knowing the fake life will never be real.”

  “I wasn’t expecting you’d see it as nothing. I was hoping perhaps you’d stay.” The words tripped off his tongue, stunning him. He hadn’t meant to say them. Hadn’t even let himself think them. But now they were out there, he felt right for the first time in a long time. Though he hadn’t been looking to start a relationship, he found he wanted Chelsea more than he wanted peace.

  Now she did look at him. “I’ve already changed my plans once for someone, and I can’t do it again. I’m sorry, Jack. I really am. But I must have been out of my head to think this was a good idea.” She walked stiffly over to Mazzy’s room and took up the blanket off the bed. “I’m going to run this over to my mom’s house. I’ll be back later.”

  Before she could walk past him out the door, he took the blanket from her. “You just had two glasses of wine in a short time span. I only had a sip. If anyone is driving anywhere, it will be me.” Then he left without looking at her. He didn’t know if he could stand to see what was in her eyes, whether sadness or unrequited lust. Neither would have made it better.

  In his car he banged his fist against the steering wheel. When would he learn that he was not enough?

  ****

  Chelsea very quietly and very softly closed the door behind Jack as he left with her daughter’s blanket. Mazzy would never be able to sleep without her wooby. She should call her mother to warn her Jack was delivering it, since it was almost ten o’clock.

  How had so much changed in so little time?

  As soon as her mother answered she jumped right in. “Hey, I just wanted to let you know Jack’s on his way over with Mazzy’s blanket. I didn’t think she’d be able to sleep without it, and I didn’t want you to have to suffer all night with the crying.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Her heart fluttered in her throat.

  There was silence for a moment, and then her mother said, “Oh, nothing, dear. I just find it curious that you sent Jack out at ten o’clock to deliver something to a little girl who is already sound asleep without it. She has a blanket here that she thought was extra cool. Since it smelled like the one at home she said it was fine. Which leads me to ask why Jack is the one delivering it and why you sound on the verge of tears.”

  “I’m not on the verge of tears,” Chelsea said as she wiped moisture from her eyes. She had already cried, there was no verge about it. “Jack is bringing the blanket over because I had a couple of glasses of wine. I don’t feel safe driving. He was sober, so there you go.”

  “Interesting. There I go, indeed.”

  “Why do you sound like you’re trying to puzzle something out? There’s nothing to puzzle out.”

  “Oh, nothing. So if I were to ask Jack why he’s bringing the blanket over and why you aren’t apparently on the verge of tears, he’d say the same thing?”

  “Don’t you dare ask him a single thing!”

  “Even more interesting.”

  Her mom could be a bulldog when she wanted to be, which was definitely not what Chelsea needed right now. A whopper of a headache brewed behind her eyes. This conversation was not making it any better. “Look, please, don’t say anything to him. We had a bit of a disagreement. I did drink two glasses of wine and he only had a few sips. I asked him to bring the blanket over because I really did not want you to have to deal with her crying if she woke up in the middle of the night and her new blanket was not good enough.”

  “Okay, honey, I believe you. I won’t interfere. This time. But you know you can always come talk to me. In fact, why don’t you plan on coming for breakfast tomorrow and we’ll have some girl time while your dad takes Mazzy to the composting place down the road. He has her all excited about seeing mulch, and you and I can talk.”

  “I have too much to do with the wedding.”

  “That’s ridiculous and you know it. It’s going to be a wonderful, perfect evening. It will not fall apart because you aren’t all over it every second of the day. This was supposed to be your vacation, too. Now say you’ll come over for breakfast tomorrow or I will ask Jack what happened tonight.”

  Chelsea sighed. “Okay, okay, I’ll be there, but you have to make the French toast the way I love it.”

  “Deal, honey. Now I’d better go, because it sounds like Mazzy’s knight in shining armor has arrived with her prize.”

  Chelsea flipped the phone closed, then willed the rest of her tears to dry as she leaned her head against the back of the door Jack had walked out of. He had every right to be angry with her. Heck, she was angry at herself. But staring at Mazzy’s room and knowing her child had to come first made it hard to abandon all her principles and just hop into bed, even if it was with someone she had known for years. It was wrong and stupid on so many levels. Perhaps it was just a hormonal thing. But now she was going to have to face him in the morning, and she had no idea how she was going to do that.

  For tonight, though, she was going to crawl into bed, curl up, and rest knowing that she didn’t have anyone to worry about except for herself.

  ****

  Two hours later, Chelsea was still lying there and had counted every tile on the ceiling. She had tried sheep but they kept wandering away. She’d tried stars but they reminded her of the way she had felt when Jack had kissed her—and especially when he had lifted her in his strong arms and carried her up from the basement.

  She had felt cherished. A feeling that had been absent for years, not since the earliest days of her relationship with Paul. When she found out she was
pregnant she had been on the verge of leaving him. She’d known he wasn’t the right person for her, but then the surprise and pleasure of Mazzy happened. Paul was the best pregnant daddy ever. He ran to the store at all hours for anything she even whispered about wanting. He gave her numerous back rubs and slept out on the couch with her when it got to the point where she was uncomfortable in bed. He was the one to set up the child birthing classes and he practiced the breathing techniques at home with her at his insistence. She had found her love for him again during those months.

  But then something changed when they brought the baby home. It was as if the dream of a small child was wonderful but the reality too much to bear. At first she didn’t blamed him. Mazzy had colic and cried constantly at the beginning. Heck, many nights Chelsea sat up crying with her. But that was what you did. That was what you did if you loved your child. And Paul just hadn’t loved either of them. Or not enough.

  Chelsea got up from the bed and went to curl up in the window seat overlooking the driveway. She probably wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight anyway, so she might as well enjoy the view.

  With her knees cradled to her chest, she rested her head on her legs and took in the brilliance of a country night in late summer. Every star shone, sparkling and dancing on a black velvet curtain. She’d opened her window twenty minutes ago thinking perhaps it was too hot in her room and that was why she couldn’t sleep.

  Now a soft breeze that smelled of fresh cut grass and turned earth wafted through her room.

  Paul had liked the city and insisted that if her parents wanted to see their granddaughter they would have to come to them. Chelsea hadn’t been on board with the idea, but she also didn’t want to fight when there seemed to be so many other issues. Her parents had gladly come down to them—and stayed in a hotel because Paul thought they didn’t have enough room to have guests.