Jem stroked her hand over the knobs of Jack’s spine. “Well, he’ll just have to find himself another girl. This one is taken. Can you hand me my shorts? Wouldn’t want to chance anyone else, human or canine, coming along.”
His laughter flowed over her skin like fine mist. Jack sat up and reached for her shorts. Using the edge of the covering, Jem scrubbed between her legs. She scampered into the thong Jack hadn’t bothered to admire when he’d stripped it from her. Quickly, she pulled the shorts up her legs and snapped them closed again. She cast a glance down her body to make sure everything was back in order. Just in case.
Jack stroked his fingers up her leg, following a path to the bottom of her shorts. He slipped his hand under the hem and squeezed her thigh. Jem grasped his wrist, stopping his upward progress.
She stroked her fingers on the top of his hand as she spoke. “Jack. Let’s hold this until later.”
He pressed a kiss to her knee and withdrew his hand. Flopping to his back, he zipped and snapped his jeans. “I’m glad you got a nap.” Gesturing to the diary resting on the edge of the blanket, he questioned, “Dull reading?”
“Not really. Mary was learning how to deal with life as a single parent. She had help with the baby, but she really missed Edward. Poor woman.” Distress over Mary’s situation filled her, but it had happened nearly one hundred years ago. Nothing could be changed now. She shrugged, then stowed the book in her tote.
Scrambling to her knees, she dragged the cooler toward her as Jack picked up her cup of lemonade and downed it. Jem pulled out the picnic fixings and laid the food between them. She handed Jack a plate. His fingers brushed hers as he took the colorful disk. Clooney edged closer, sniffing around the container of chicken Jem had opened.
Laughing, she nudged his snout away while she reached into the bag’s side pocket. She pulled a treat from the bag and lifted it in front of the animal’s face. “Hold.” Clooney eyed Jem’s clenched fist but remained perfectly still as she tossed it into the grass. Jem counted to three under her breath. “Get it, boy!”
Clooney lunged after it with a happy woof. The treat crunched between his powerful jaws.
While Jem played dog trainer, Jack layered food on his plate. Relaxing back, he studied the elegant house. “You know, I’m not that different from Edward in that I want to create a spot where the woman I love will be happy.”
Jem dipped her head. “Just as Mary was. There’s something about the house that signals calm and peace.”
He shook his head, but the dimples appeared on his cheeks. “That’s a bit fanciful, isn’t it?” He forked up a bite of coleslaw.
“Maybe. But if the glow of love always increases like this after sex in the sunlight, we might just have to indulge every afternoon.”
The look on Jack’s face told her he’d be willing to investigate the possibility. Jem handed him a bright red plastic cup, then dumped lemonade into it. While they ate and discussed the prospects of their future, a powerful sense of love nestled over her shoulders.
Chapter 10
Life interfered and Jem found herself pitched straight into menu planning, catering meetings with prospective customers, and working with Jack to outfit the kitchen at the SeaView. Construction had moved along with no more surprises and no more hidden cubbyholes.
Typically, by the time evening came, Jem was so worn out from the fifteen-hour days she’d been working, she’d fall into bed by nine at night and be asleep less than a minute later. There was no time to spend cuddling with Jack, and certainly no time for reading. She’d completely forgotten about Mary’s diary until the first Sunday in October. With her feet resting in Jack’s lap while he watched football, she resumed reading the entries. Jack had panicked when she sobbed and crawled into his lap. She’d wrapped her arms around his neck and turned his crisp blue shirt into a soggy mess while she hiccupped as she shared the rest of Mary’s story.
The tale haunted her dreams. She’d even woken in the middle of the night with leaky eyes. After washing her face and getting a drink of water, she’d snuggled next to Jack. He’d held her tight and wept with her. She’d been surprised but comforted by his emotional response.
This Monday, the day was crisp and clear, as only an Atlantic coast October could be. The trees lining Front Street had burst into color, and a refreshing breeze swirled fallen leaves in the roadway. After lunch, she made her way to the garden spot in the alley. She found Mal lying on the bench, eyes closed, face to the sun.
Her friend’s eyes snapped open when Jem tapped the toe of her tennis shoe on the bench leg.
“Hey.” Mal swiveled to a seated position and accepted the mug Jem offered. After a glance at Jem’s face, Mal drew her brows toward the center of her forehead. “Girl, you look like hell. Have you been crying?”
“I finished Mary’s diary yesterday. I’m telling you, Malin, it’s the most tragic thing I’ve ever read.” Tears sprang into Jem’s eyes again.
Mal made a distressed noise and scooted over. Grabbing Jem’s wrist, she pulled her down to the bench.
Jem didn’t understand her strong connection to Mary, but she had to stop crying. Damn hormones. Drawing a shuddery breath, she blotted moisture from her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Right after Olivia was born, Mary was sitting in the nursery, rocking the newborn. It was a windy afternoon and Edward’s business manager had warned there might be a nor’easter heading their way.”
Pausing with her coffee cup halfway to her lips, Mal asked, “God, I can’t imagine how she felt having a newborn in the face of a storm. So did Mary take over the running of the business after Edward died?”
“She did, but get this—Edward didn’t die before Olivia was born after all.”
Mal’s chin-length blond hair swung against her cheek as she reared her head back. “What?” Her voice rose on a screech.
“Nope. According to her diary, while Mary was in the nursery, she noticed a ship struggling against the wind to get into the harbor. She didn’t recognize the vessel, but she knew the flag it was flying. It was the entwined hearts pennant Edward always sailed under. Apparently it was flapping in the wind as the ship struggled off shore.” Jem shook her head. “Can you imagine the joy she must have felt seeing that? She wrote that Olivia started wailing because Mary had squeezed her so tight.”
“So they were reunited? I wonder why history never reported he’d survived? Seems odd.”
Jem shook her head, tears surging again. “Unfortunately, he didn’t survive the trip to the harbor. Mary handed the baby off to the nurse and raced to the widow’s walk to use the telescope. Edward was on the deck with a spyglass to his eye, watching the house. He must have seen her because she wrote he raised his hand.” Jem twisted her fingers together and pursed hers lips into a tight seam. Trying to get her emotions under control felt a little like herding cats. Futile. Sucking in a lungful of air, Jem found the strength to continue. “But as they watched each other from the distance, the helmsman misread the reef and steered directly toward it. The nor’easter did the rest, pushing the ship into the rocks. While Mary watched, the ship broke up. By the time the storm passed, the wreckage had been swept away. They never recovered any of the bodies.”
Mal gasped. “Oh, my God!”
Jem’s eyes ached from holding back the tears. She coughed to clear her throat before continuing. “Although it appeared to the rest of the world that Edward had died months before, Mary knew he’d survived the original wreck and was trying to get home to her.”
“That has to be the saddest story I’ve ever heard. So close...” Mal sobbed in a breath, clearly as moved by the tragedy as Jem. Mal’s gentle sobbing made it hard for Jem to hold back her own tears.
Jem wrapped her arm around Mal’s shoulders and leaned into her, both of them ignoring the tears slipping down their cheeks. They sat together, silently consoling each other and grieving Mary and Edward nearly a century later.
Jem straightened and sniffed, pushing her hair away from her foreh
ead. She wished sweeping her emotions away were as easy. “Mary wrote she’d trade all of her tomorrows for just one yesterday with her beloved Edward. God, Malin, how would I survive if something happened to Jack? Could you survive if Gunnar were gone?”
“Hell no! You bite your tongue, Jemima Kerrigan. Our men are fine and will always be here. You and Jack will always have each other, just like Gunnar and I will.”
Jem curled her fingers inward, resisting the urge to rub her hand on her belly. She dipped her head to hide the tiny smile curling her lips. More tears dripped from her eyes, but these were tears of joy. She wasn’t going to spill the beans or her bean-sized secret to anyone before she told Jack.
And she planned to tell him later this afternoon when she met him at the Sea View.
A cooling breeze, promising fall and winter, lifted the wayward strands of her hair.
Mal tugged the sides of her forest green sweater together and shivered. “I hate to cut this short, but I have to get back to the shop. Are you going to be okay?”
Jem nodded and swept her fingers under her eyes, removing any lingering traces of her tears. “I’m good. Really good. I have to go meet Jack, anyway. The kitchen equipment is being delivered, and he thought I might be eager to see it in person. Which I most certainly am.”
“Such a considerate man. Are we still on for dinner tomorrow? We need to finish planning the kickoff party.” Mal stood and arched her back.
“Of course. I’ll be bringing my planning file. Oh, and pictures of the types of food I want to try out. Good thing we’re having dinner. Otherwise I know the pictures will make you hungry.” She rose from the bench and pulled the zip of her fleece up over her breasts.
Mal enveloped Jem in a spontaneous hug. “I’ll see you later. My love to Jack and all that.”
“Gunnar and all that, too!”
Mal retreated through the back door of her shop while Jem stood by the bench. Wonder and delight filled her as she gave into temptation and pressed her palm to her lower belly. She clutched Mary’s locket, her good luck talisman. Once they’d found the necklace and books, it had finally happened for them. She knew Jack would be as delighted with the news as she’d been. Giddy joy pulsed through her when she recalled the sight of the tiny word pregnant in the display window after she’d peed on the stick.
Hopefully, their story would have a happier ending than Mary and Edward’s.
* * * *
Clouds from dirty white to charcoal gray scuttled across the horizon. The wind had kicked up by the time Jem walked through the front door of the Sea View. An autumn storm boiled over the ocean. The door banged shut behind her after she’d crossed the threshold. Startled, she jumped and spun around to stare at the portal. A draft continued to swirl around her, lifting tendrils of her hair, caressing her cheeks with unusual warmth given the coolness of the day. She glanced into the front parlor, seeking the source of the gusts. The door to the conservatory remained closed, and from where she stood, Jem didn’t notice any open windows.
Sunlight broke through dark clouds to stream through the arched palladium window over the door, bathing her in the eerie greenish color of the sky. She twirled slowly in the magnificent entryway, the soles of her shoes scuffing quietly on the dusty marble floor. The breeze circled with her, almost a hug. Jem let her imagination soar, pretending Mary greeted her with a gesture of friendship and love, the way Jem would greet her sister-in-law, Pippa, or Malin. Delighted laughter bubbled out, and she wrapped her arms around her waist, basking in the impression of welcome.
Clattering in the hall above her drew her attention. Jem looked up as Jack descended the broad, curved staircase, brows drawn together as though confused. The ghostlike sensation of being hugged lessened then disappeared as he approached. The feeling returned when he swept her into his arms and greeted her with a searing kiss. His tongue swept between her lips as he closed his arms around her back. Jem lost herself in the kiss, ignoring time as Jack braced a hand between her shoulder blades and bent her backward. The heat of his palm seared through her fleece jacket, and her right foot left the ground.
As he moved his mouth on hers, she threaded her fingers through his wavy hair and perfected the seal between them. Love—passionate, overwhelming, and abiding—swelled within her chest, wrapping her heart in a sheet of emotion so thick it blanketed her in comfort.
He eased her upright and dragged his lips from hers. Toying with strands of her hair, he rested his forehead on hers. His breath and back of his knuckles smoothing over her cheek continued the kiss. “You’re so damned beautiful, you steal my breath. When I came down the stairs, you almost glimmered in the sunbeam.”
Jem smiled. She felt like she glowed from within. “Glimmered, huh? Like a fairy? Or a ghost?”
“Nah, if you were a ghost, you’d shimmer.” Dimples bracketed his mouth, and Jem wanted to dart her tongue into them.
She settled for combing her fingers through his hair and smiling into his eyes. “At least I’m not gleaming. We should leave that to the kitchen appliances. Can I see?”
Jack threw his head back and laughed. He slipped his arms from around her, but laced his long fingers with hers. He stepped away, tugging her along with him. “Come on, sugar. You’re going to love this.”
He led her down the hall toward the swinging door they’d installed at the entrance to her domain. As she stepped through, light from the large wall of windows on one side of the room did gleam off the stainless steel equipment.
A thrill dashed through Jem at the prospect of cooking in the state-of-the-art kitchen. Jack had told her he’d found a great deal on a Garland range, but she’d been expecting a smaller version, not the model with two convection ovens and a griddle. To the left of the Garland stood another stand-alone oven and banquet cart to keep food hot and moist.
Refrigeration units lined up neatly on the wall opposite the stove. One large freezer unit with a fridge flanked them. A large, glass-fronted unit that reminded Jem of what she’d see at the grocery anchored the entire wall. Jem pressed her fingers to her trembling lips. Elation swept over her at being in the commercial-grade space, leaving her giddy. She walked to the prep counter in the center of the room and flattened her hands on the stainless steel top. She swept her gaze around the room, surveying Jack’s wonderful work. He’d even built cabinets into one wall to serve as a pantry.
“Oh, Jack. This is even better than the kitchen at Taste.” And that one was damned awesome. Working in this space was a dream come true.
Jack crowded in behind her, pressing his chest to her back as he wrapped his arms around her. He rested his chin on her shoulder. “It’s definitely at the top of my list of best kitchens I’ve ever done. Even the big kitchen at Elder Pointe pales in comparison.”
“God, I could move a bed in here and never leave.”
His chuckle was low and sexy in her ear. “I’d miss you something fierce if you did.”
Jem used the sleeve of her jacket to wipe her fingerprints from the stainless steel counter. “You could come to.”
“Hmm, very tempting. Maybe we should convert the upstairs to quarters for us. We could be onsite all the time. That would be great for my business as well.”
The idea of living in Mary’s house, raising their baby, or babies, tickled Jem’s heart. She turned in Jack’s arms and rested her head on his chest. The calm thump of his heartbeat resonated under her cheek, steady, strong, full of life. She closed her eyes and envisioned a dark curly-headed cherub toddling across the lawn, chasing Clooney with a huge smile. Oh, she hoped their child had Jack’s dimples and blue eyes. Emotion overwhelmed, and she drew a quavering breath.
“You okay, sugar?” he asked, tipping his head to peer at her face.
A smile tugged the corners of her mouth. “I’m so far beyond fine, Jack.”
He grazed his hands down her arms, seizing her wrists when he reached them. “Let’s take this tour upstairs. Dave spent yesterday installing the staircase to the upper deck.
We’ll watch the sun go down from there.”
The perfect spot to tell him...the colorfully lit evening sky an incredible backdrop. Jem nodded without saying a word.
Jack pressed her to his side, tucking her under his arm, and escorted her from the kitchen. As they climbed to the second and then third story, the stairs creaked the way only an extremely old home could. They walked along the ancient wool carpet runner, past the closed doors of long dormant rooms, to a circular metal stairway. Jack released her to pull a key from his pocket.
While she waited at the bottom, Jack mounted the newly installed winding steps. At the top hatch, he fumbled with a dangling padlock and unlocked the door to the widow’s walk. The door opened with barely a squeak. He turned and extended an arm, a silent invitation to join him.
Jem eyed the steps, wondering what Mary had felt, climbing a similar staircase that fateful day when Edward sailed toward the harbor. Maybe disbelief. Elation, certainly, that he’d found his way back, joy and delight to be reunited. Only to have her happiness dashed, just like the ship he’d sailed on to get back to her side when it hit the rocks. Jem blinked away her sudden tears and put her foot on the first rung. A breeze rifled the hair around her face as she tilted her gaze up at Jack, her love and her life.
He stood half inside, half out, his wavy dark hair a halo around his head in the odd colored light of the stormy sky. “You coming?”
Nodding, she rested her hand on the cool steel bannister and climbed toward him. He disappeared through the opening at the top, then reappeared to stretch a hand inside to help her through.
She hadn’t been on the roof before. The original stairs had been deemed too dangerous, and replacing them low on the list of priorities. So the trap door had remained off limits. Now the crews were finished on the first floor, and before phase two of the project started, Jack had instructed Dave to move the task of replacing the steps to the top of the punch list.
A Spirited Love (A Five Senses Short Book 2) Page 9