by Gina Wilkins
They didn’t talk about his parents again, or her work, or anything that had taken place between them—kisses or lovemaking or shared illusions in the fog. Something had changed between them during that conversation at the picnic table, and Kinley didn’t understand it. But she felt it.
She parked in her usual place toward the back of the inn and they climbed out of the car. Dan closed his door, then glanced around the garden. No one seemed to be around at the moment, which was no surprise. Few of the rooms were occupied now that the wedding party had moved out, and it was time for the light Sunday supper to be served inside, so the guests in residence were probably in the dining room.
“Bonnie sets out a simple meal at this time on Sunday evenings,” she said to Dan, more to make conversation than because he didn’t already know. “A big pot of soup, sandwich makings, desserts. You’ve got almost an hour before it’s all put away.”
“I’m not really hungry. Too many sweets, I guess. Maybe we could walk in the garden for a few minutes?”
“Of course.”
She noticed as they strolled in silence toward the fountain that all evidence of the wedding had been stashed away. The gardens and lawn were immaculate as always, the gazebo decorated with pots of leafy ferns rather than baskets of wedding flowers. Her brother was always fast and thorough with the chores he had claimed as his own. She wished she believed he was genuinely happy with his life now.
Reaching the fountain, Dan stopped to gaze down into the rippling pool, studying the shiny handful of coins there as if totaling their value. She wasn’t sure he was even seeing the change. It seemed to her that he was thinking hard about what he was about to say, and she braced herself to hear it.
“I think I’ll check out this evening,” he said. “I’m considering driving over to Chesapeake Bay. My assignment here is finished, and I’m sure you have a busy week ahead.”
Somehow she’d sensed this was what he was going to say, but it made it no easier to hear it. She wasn’t sure what, exactly, had brought him to this decision. What she’d said—or hadn’t said. Why he suddenly felt the urge to cut his losses and move on. She wouldn’t ask him to stay. After all, this was the outcome she had expected all along. She was strongly rooted here, furiously busy with the inn and the part-time real-estate job she’d been neglecting the past couple of days. Dan wasn’t rooted anywhere, admitting that he preferred being free to move at will, apparently averse to making any binding plans for his future. Whether that was the way he truly preferred to live or whether he would spend the rest of his life rebelling against parental expectations, she didn’t know—but there was no place for her in that existence, either way.
“I’ll let Bonnie know,” she said, pleased that her voice sounded so steady. “She’ll check you out.”
He was silent for several long beats, still staring down into the water. Had he expected her to argue? Had he wanted her to?
“I’ve had a great time,” he said at length, turning to her with his expression carefully schooled to reveal little of his thoughts. The scratch on his cheek stood out against his tan, a visible reminder of the adventure they had shared and which she, for one, would never forget.
“I had fun, too,” she assured him, and that part was surprisingly true. It had been fun being with Dan, for the most part. Perhaps that would help buffer the pain of missing him later.
He reached out to smooth her hair, a gesture she was going to miss whenever she thought of him—which she was sure she would do often. “If you were the type to ditch all those responsibilities and take off for some fun in the sun, I’d ask you to come with me.”
Her smile felt a bit sad even to her. “If you were the type to buckle down to all those responsibilities and be content with only a few rare hours of relaxation, I’d ask you to stay.”
His mouth twitched. “That doesn’t really describe either of us, does it?”
“No.”
Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her lingeringly. She closed her eyes and sank into his embrace, returning the kiss, committing the feel and taste and scent of him to memory for savoring later. He tilted his head, kissed her again, then seemed to force himself to draw away.
“I hope your inn is as successful as you want it to be,” he murmured when he released her.
“And I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for,” she replied huskily.
She couldn’t stay there any longer. The one thing she absolutely refused to do was to cry in front of him. “Goodbye, Dan.”
“Bye, Kinley. I—”
Whatever he might have added, he bit it off. She was already walking away, heading almost blindly down the path past the gazebo. She wasn’t sure why she’d chosen to come this way, but she didn’t reverse her steps. She kept walking, her eyes focused fiercely on the caretaker’s cottage, looking neither behind her at Dan nor to the side at the once-so-familiar, now-mysterious woods.
Reaching her brother’s door, she rapped hard with her knuckles. She didn’t even know for certain if he was inside, but she thought she heard a ball game on his TV. The door opened, and Logan stood inside, casual in a T-shirt and jeans with bare feet, frowning at the interruption.
The frown changed when he saw her face.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
He stepped aside silently. She walked past him, waited until he’d closed the door and then buried her face in his shoulder. Sprawled on the floor by the couch, Ninja raised his head, then lowered it to his paws again as though sensing the siblings needed to be left alone for the moment.
Logan sighed and wrapped his arms around her. “Want me to go pound the guy?”
With a watery laugh, she shook her head against his chest. “No. But thanks for the offer.”
“Want a sandwich and a beer? We can watch the rest of the game together.”
Filling her lungs unsteadily, she pulled herself together and straightened, telling herself she was back in control now. “Yes, please.”
By the time the game ended, she knew Dan would be gone. And her life would go on, exactly as she’d planned.
Which didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt like hell whenever she thought of what might have been, had she or Dan been different.
Chapter Eleven
On a warm afternoon in June, Cassie Drennan stopped by the inn with her dad for a quick meeting about the wedding package she’d ordered for October. After almost a month of deliberation, Cassie had reached some big decisions that she wanted to discuss with Kinley, and her father had come along for the ride. Cassie confided to Kinley that her mom was out of town and her fiance was in London, where they would be moving after the wedding, so she and her dad were spending the day together.
“We’re having a nice dinner this evening and going out for a movie,” she added, smiling happily at her father. “Daddy and I have always loved going to see action films together, haven’t we?”
“We have,” deep-voiced Paul Drennan agreed, and though he smiled, Kinley thought his jade eyes were a bit sad. She could only imagine how hard it must be for him to see his only daughter marrying and moving so far away. It was obvious that he and his ex had been quite young when Cassie was born. It was even more apparent that he adored his daughter, and that the feeling was mutual.
Kinley gave Cassie a copy of the agreement they’d signed, accepted a check from Paul and stood to open the office door for them. She recalled that the first time she’d met Cassie she’d thought it would be a pleasure working with her. That opinion was only reinforced by this meeting. She liked this family very much.
“Feel free to let me know if you want any changes,” she said as she stood back to let them precede her into the entryway. “There’s still plenty of time to make adjustments.”
Which reminded her, of course, of the literally last-minute changes she’d made to Serena Sossaman-Thompson’s wedding last month, which led her around to thinking of Dan, which made her heart hurt, as it always did when he crossed her mind.
> She had become an expert at putting thoughts of him out of her mind, though they hovered constantly just around the periphery. She was confident that her smile never wavered when she added, “I’m sure it’s going to be a beautiful wedding.”
“I just hope the weather cooperates,” Paul said over his shoulder as he moved to step out. “Cassie insisted on having an outdoor wedding, even though I warned her it could—oof.”
Because he hadn’t been watching where he was going, he had crashed straight into Bonnie, who’d been approaching from the desk. Both of them staggered back, though Paul quickly recovered and grabbed Bonnie’s arms to steady her. “I’m so sorry. Totally my fault. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Her face beet-red, Bonnie smiled in embarrassment. “Oh. Mr. Drennan, isn’t it?”
Cassie broke into peals of laughter. “Honestly, Daddy. Every time I bring you here, you barrel into this poor woman. I’m going to have to start leaving you at home before you break her arm or something.”
Paul shot a repressive look at his amused daughter. “Cassie, it isn’t funny. She could have been hurt.”
“Actually, it is kind of funny,” Bonnie said with an understanding smile at the younger woman. “I don’t really walk into every client who comes in. Appearances to the contrary.”
Kinley waved to the departing duo, then turned back to her sister, who had fallen into a chair at the table and covered her face with her hands. Smothering a grin, she asked, “Bon? You okay?”
“I’m mortified,” Bonnie replied, her voice muffled. “Why is it that every time that man comes in I make a fool of myself?”
“He’s only been here twice.”
“And I’ve ploughed into him both times.”
“Actually, I think it was his fault this time. He was looking one direction and walking another.”
Bonnie dropped her hands. “He seems quite nice. Both of them do.”
“They’re great. It’s going to be a lot of fun working with them. Her mother and stepdad are nice, too, from what I recall. Everyone seemed really pleasant together, which is always gratifying from a blended family.”
“So there’s not a stepmom?” Bonnie asked a bit too casually.
Kinley raised an eyebrow. She remembered now that Bonnie had seemed taken with Paul last time she’d literally run into him. It was an unlikely match, what with Paul being quite a bit older and the father of a young woman not many years younger than Bonnie—but who was she to criticize anyone for developing a fascination with a man who was all wrong for her? She just hoped her sister didn’t end up crying into her pillow during unguarded moments in long, lonely nights.
“No,” she said. “As far as I know, there’s no stepmom.”
Bonnie shrugged. “Just curious.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.”
“About that wedding shower we have booked for Sunday afternoon…”
An hour later, Kinley was out in the garden with her camera. She wanted a couple of new photos for the website, and the roses were truly beautiful now with the afternoon sun on them. She’d seen a couple of guests strolling along the paths earlier, but she seemed to be the only one out now. She snapped a few shots of the fountain, then moved to the future site of the Meditation Garden, where the yellow roses were in full bloom. Focusing tightly on one perfect blossom, she smiled in delight when a butterfly fluttered into the shot. Unless it had blurred, that should be a nice one. She was no professional photographer, but she enjoyed taking pictures.
She saw something move from the corner of her right eye. Glancing idly that way, she froze when she thought she saw the smiling woman in white again. Just standing there. Smiling at her.
Her fingers went nerveless, so that she almost dropped her camera, but when she whirled to get a better look, no one was there. Just a bush covered in tiny white blooms, the branches rustled by a breeze so faint Kinley didn’t even feel it.
Shaking her head in self-disgust, she wondered if she would ever fully recover from those few crazy days in the spring. She was still jumping at shadows, still waking up sniffling, still battling an emptiness no amount of job success had been able to fill yet. A Dan-shaped hole in her heart, as she thought of it when she allowed herself to draw on dark humor for comfort. She’d get over it. Someday.
It hadn’t been a failure, she assured herself as she had many times before. She couldn’t fail if she’d never really tried…right?
Lifting the camera again, she focused on another flower, then a spreading Japanese maple. The camera still raised, she turned in search of another nice shot—only to find Dan Phelan’s face framed in her viewfinder.
This time she did drop the camera. Had the strap not been looped around her wrist, it would have crashed to the pebbles at her feet, probably breaking the screen.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then looked again, but unlike the hazy image she’d thought she saw before, Dan was still there.
“You remember that question you asked me?” he said as if it hadn’t been a full month since they’d last seen each other.
“I, uh…” She swallowed hard, working to recover her composure. “I’m sorry, what question?”
“You asked if I’m happy with the way I’m living.”
She recalled that very clearly. It had concluded their conversation at the lookout tower, when everything had changed between them. When he’d decided so suddenly to leave.
Nervously smoothing her hands against her pants, she cleared her throat silently before saying, “Yes. I remember.”
“I have an answer for you now,” he said. He made no effort to move closer to her. He simply stood there, hands in the pockets of his jeans, his bright blue eyes leveled intently on her face.
“And?”
“And…no. I haven’t been particularly happy.”
“That’s a shame,” she murmured. “I thought you enjoyed your carefree life.”
“I did, for several years. But it gets old, you know? Drifting. Looking for the next way to earn my parents’ disapproval.”
She heard the irony in his comment, and she knew he wasn’t being literal. Despite his complicated relationship with his parents, Dan had made his choices for reasons of his own. He’d been following his dreams, looking for his own place in life, she realized abruptly. He’d expected his parents to disapprove, probably because they so often did.
“I know what it’s like to spend your life trying to prove something,” she told him quietly. “You’ve been trying to show everyone that you are your own man, free to make your own mistakes. I’ve been trying to convince everyone I don’t make mistakes—not since my disaster of a marriage, anyway. Always in control, always on the job. That’s me. And then Serena Sossaman pointed out that I’m turning into her mother. And I had to stop and ask myself if that was really what I wanted. You aren’t the only one who’s been rethinking your life during the past month.”
Dan moved then, his hands dropping onto her shoulders, his expression stern. “You are nothing like Eva Sossaman,” he told her flatly. “She means well, maybe, but she railroads over everyone to get what she wants. You don’t do that. You care about what other people want. You do everything you can to make sure you provide it for them, which is why you’re so successful here, and in your real-estate career. But maybe sometimes you forget to ask yourself what it is that you want.”
She knew what she wanted right now. Wanted more than her next breath, in fact. And to her amazement, he was standing right in front of her.
“Do you remember the last thing you said to me before I left last month?” he asked huskily.
She moistened her lips. “I said I hoped you’d find what you were looking for.”
“Yes.” He smiled a little then, his fingers flexing on her shoulders in a light caress. “It took me a few weeks to realize that I’d already found it. Like an idiot, I got scared and walked away from what I’d been looking for all my life.”
She felt her eyes widen. “Dan?”
�
�I know you think I’m not the serious and committed type. That I don’t stick with anything very long. I know you don’t know me well enough to fully trust me yet when I tell you I can make a commitment and stick with it. It took me a while to trust myself in that respect. I know you’re much too practical and realistic to believe in love at first sight. That you believe in what you can touch and feel and prove with your ledger sheets. But if you’ll give me a chance, I’ll do my best to prove to you that I…”
With a smile, she reached up to lay her fingers against his mouth, stopping the flow of words in midsentence. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, Dan,” she murmured around a hard lump in her throat. “I’ve come to believe in a lot of things I can’t explain during the past month. Love at first sight is only one of them.”
His arms went around her, drawing her hard against him. His somber face lit with one of his amazing smiles, and his blue eyes were as bright as the sun when he looked down at her. “We’ll take it slow from this point,” he promised her. “All the time you need. I’ll still have some traveling to do with my job for now—but I’ll always come back to you.”
“And I’ll be very busy here with my job—but I’ll always make time to welcome you back,” she assured him, slipping her arms around his neck.
His lips moving against hers, he murmured, “I think this is going to work out very well.”
“I have no doubt of it,” she replied, then took his mouth with hers.
As the kiss deepened and heated, she had the strangest feeling that someone was watching them…and smiling.
* * *
Her bed was a tangled, rumpled mess, the covers half on, half off, pillows on the floor, a few items of clothing tossed across the headboard. Dan lay half across Kinley, sticky skin fused with hers as they breathed in ragged unison, trying to calm their pounding hearts and racing pulses.