True. My sister probably hated me. My mother must be mortified. Aunt Addie was doubtlessly still crying over her macaroni ornaments. And Ian? God knew what Ian was thinking, but I couldn’t imagine he would be smiling as Charlotte walked down the aisle at this point. As for the Lowells and the rest of the guests, they probably thought we were all crazy.
I looked up at Nick. A light by the bed cast a dim glow on his face as he gazed down at me.
“Nick, why are we in a guest room?”
“Never mind about that. You’re still shivering. Come on. Let’s get you warm.”
He guided me to the bed, lifted the comforter, and sat me down. Then he kneeled down and removed my shoes.
“I’m not a child,” I complained.
“Oh, come on, Annie.” He sounded mildly irritated. “Just let someone do something for you for a change.”
I squeezed my lips together. Well, okay. If he insisted.
He lifted my legs up to the bed and tucked the covers around me.
“Tell me this isn’t Scarlett’s room.”
He chuckled and put his hands on either side of my hips. “No. Some of those Adler cousins wanted to stay together. My mom has the whole Chicago contingent at her house tonight. So I gave up my bedroom and switched with your cousin who was in this room.” Then he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “I’ll be right back, all right?”
I hid my smile when he smoothed my hair and turned to leave the room. Despite all my worries and the gravity of what had just happened, a thought intruded in my head.
I had just been tucked in.
Nick would make a great father someday.
On a snowy winter afternoon when I was ten and Charlotte was six, we were given permission to take a freshly washed sheet off the housekeeping cart and turn it into a fort using chairs as stanchions and a broom as the center pole.
Aunt Addie and my mother were hosting a church luncheon and I was put in charge of Charlotte and told to stay out of trouble. Mom said she was going to give me this one chance to redeem myself. Just the week before I had discovered how fun it was to slide down the stairs in my sleeping bag and had been scolded by my dad when Charlotte had copied me and we had been caught. I was determined to prove I was responsible and could be a good babysitter.
Charlotte and I lay underneath our white 250-thread-count roof in our sleeping bags, pretending we were safe from the wilds of the jungle outside. We played for almost two hours, reading books and drinking pretend tea at our tea party. I was so proud of myself, and I couldn’t wait to tell my dad.
When I took myself off to the bathroom it never occurred to me that Charlotte would return to our toboggan game. I came back to our fort and realized she was missing. Then I heard a gigantic crash. I ran to the lobby to find Charlotte sprawled halfway down the landing beside the shattered remains of Aunt Addie’s favorite crystal vase.
“Run!” I whispered to her before anyone found her.
Aunt Addie and Mom discovered me next to the smashed vase and it hadn’t occurred to me that I should tell the truth. Aunt Addie cried over her loss and Dad was furious when he found out. I took my punishment and did odd jobs for Aunt Addie after school for the next month. I even accepted a lifetime of teasing for my crystal-smashing ways, never saying a word in my own defense.
Neither Charlotte nor I ever talked about that incident. But I couldn’t help but think about it now as I lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling.
Why didn’t I get mad at Charlotte all those years ago?
I tried to remember everything I said during my rampage in the dining room. But my memory was one big blur. I had trouble distinguishing between what I had been thinking and what I had actually said out loud.
Images of all that led up to my meltdown flashed before my eyes. The look on Aunt Addie’s face when Charlotte demanded her macaroni menagerie be removed, the controlled anger that burned behind Ian’s eyes before he unleashed his revenge with the Barry Manilow firebomb, and the despair in my mother’s eyes as she watched her family fall apart.
I thought of Charlotte’s reaction to the roof cave-in and realized that tonight was the first time in my life I had felt pure anger toward my little sister. I had let Charlotte have the full brunt of my fury. And I had done it in front of my family, her friends, and her future family. Oh yeah, and perhaps even half of America.
I was a walking disaster.
I threw back the covers and swung my feet over the side of the bed. I was just starting to put on my shoes when I heard Nick return. He stood in the doorway holding a bottle of wine, a corkscrew, and two glasses. He shook his head at me.
“You never could follow directions, Annie.”
“I can’t sit here while all hell breaks loose. We’re in the middle of a wedding crisis and I have to help figure out what to do. I can’t imagine what my mom is dealing with.”
He shut the door with his foot and leaned back against it as if he would physically bar me from leaving the room. “For once, just let it go and take care of yourself,” he said.
“Take care of myself? Why would I do that? I’m fine. It’s this wedding that’s in trouble. I just screwed up everything.” My voice wavered and I blinked away the moisture that had invaded my eyes. This was not a time to wallow in self-pity.
Nick walked across the room and sat down next to me. He placed the bottle and glasses on the nightstand and put his arm around my shoulder. “Your mom is fine. She and Charlotte are tucked away in the annex having a mother-daughter conversation. I didn’t hear any yelling or sobbing, so I figure they’re working things out.”
I took a shaky breath. “My poor mom. I feel like I made everything so much worse.”
Nick’s hand moved to the back of my neck and he massaged the muscles I didn’t even know were tense. He touched a particularly sensitive spot in my neck and I almost purred. Then he kissed my brow. “Henry is pacing outside the kitchen, but he says he has Charlotte handled. Ian and the guys are working on covering up the hole in the ceiling. Travis is giving orders to your cousins as if he has a degree in roofing. He says he shingled roofs one summer when he was in college and he knows all about them.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I know. I find it hard to believe too.”
“Is the hole in the roof very bad?”
He paused. “I think so.”
“Dad always wanted to build a bigger dining room for banquets. He had all these ideas about rustic pine planking and big windows. I can’t imagine what we are going to do now. The church basement is pretty small and I can’t think of any other place nearby that could hold everyone.”
Nick turned his head and looked at the swirling snow against the windowpane. He seemed to be considering something.
I interrupted his thoughts. “I’m afraid to ask, but what about June and Scarlett?” I didn’t even want to ask about Brittany. Nick should understand that even with her movie-star physique and her Hollywood wardrobe, she was far less drama than me.
“June and Scarlett opened a bottle of champagne and have coerced Aunt Addie to drink it with them.” I opened my mouth, speechless. But Nick just smiled back at me. “Really. It’s the funniest thing, but the three of them are trading wedding horror stories like war vets.”
I wondered if he was lying just to make me feel better.
“So”—he reached for the corkscrew and opened the bottle of wine—“you don’t have any reason to leave this room for a very long time.”
I looked sideways at him. His words were one hell of a prelude to seduction.
He poured the wine and handed me a glass, watching with hooded eyes as I raised it to my lips. My hand trembled.
“Come on, sit back and relax.” Nick shifted and ushered me backward until we were sitting against the headboard. For several moments I just enjoyed the feel of Nick’s arm around me and the trail of warmth the red wine left down my throat.
“Tonight was the first time I can remember getting mad at Charlotte,” I final
ly said.
“Well, usually it was you and Ian who battled. You two fought all the time, but never with Charlotte. Why was that?”
“She has always been everyone’s perfect little girl . . . everyone’s blond-haired, blue-eyed angel.” I sighed and took another sip. “It was never like having an annoying baby sister at all. She was like my baby too.”
I thought of all the things I had done for her growing up. The times I sat on the edge of her bed and watched her model her new school clothes. When she landed her first job at a TV station in Michigan, I taped her reports and we watched them over and over. Actually, Aunt Addie and Mom still did that. We had all been so proud of everything she did.
“When she was little I remember begging my parents to let me read her bedtime stories. It made me feel so proud, as if she were my own little girl. I can still remember how Ian and I used to fight over who would hold her hand when we crossed the street.”
“Charlotte was the proverbial golden girl,” Nick said, reaching for the bottle and adding more wine to my glass.
I thought about that for a moment. “But the Charlotte who arrived here yesterday was someone I didn’t recognize. She was so distracted by the wedding details that she barely noticed us running around trying to make her wedding perfect.”
“I noticed,” Nick said. “I watched you lugging that damn photography equipment through the snow, taking care of luggage, serving meals, and running laps around the inn. It made me so irritated to see you work that hard. This whole weekend has been crazy for you.”
It was a lot of work. But what else could we have done? It was Charlotte’s wedding.
“It wouldn’t have been so bad if things hadn’t started going downhill. The dress, the storm, and those damn ornaments. I don’t know what happened, Nick, but suddenly it was like Charlotte was replaced with her evil twin.”
“My father used to say that a man isn’t measured by how he handles his successes, but how he handles his failures.” He said it softly, as if he was afraid the words might shatter my image of Charlotte. But the fact was, the words sounded like something my father used to say too. Charlotte had been in high school when Dad died. I wondered if she had been listening when he had explained his philosophies on life. Or was she still playing dress-up back then?
“It’s not like she actually failed, Nick. I mean, none of this was her doing.”
“That’s true.” His words hung in the air as though he wanted to say more.
“Oh God, Nick. Did I really call The Morning Show phony? What will Scarlett think?” I was back where I started. “I made things so much worse with my crazy tirade.”
Nick squeezed my shoulder and got up from the bed. “Lie down on your stomach, Annie. I’ve ordered a massage to go with this wine.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know that was just a stupid thing Ian put on our website. I thought he removed it.”
“This is a special package deal.” He took my glass and put it on the nightstand.
“I can’t do this right now. I have to go help.”
He ignored me and turned me over on my stomach. He pulled me down on the bed with strong hands. “Shut up, Annie.”
I felt guilty. I could only imagine the crazy things happening in the rest of the inn.
“There is nothing you can do tonight,” Nick said. He turned off the bedside lamp and flicked on the clock radio to a local public station that played jazz.
It seemed so decadent and self-indulgent to be getting a massage an hour after ruining my sister’s wedding. But I lay there anyway, anticipating the feel of Nick’s hands on my body again. I felt a tingling sensation wash over me at the mere thought of spending the night with him.
He disappeared for a moment and reappeared with lotion from the bathroom. Opening up the miniature container, he smelled it. “Mmm. This stuff smells great.”
Thank you, Ian. Who knew I would get to use the lotions his friend had given us in this manner?
“Let’s get this shirt off,” Nick said. I raised my arms and let him pull it off. “That’s better,” he said in a low voice.
I smelled the lotion and felt the smooth texture as his hands began kneading my tired muscles. His hands worked their magic and he coaxed my shoulders to relax. I felt as if I were sinking into the bed as his thumbs and the heels of his hands ran up and down my back. I hadn’t realized just how tense I was. Then he unhooked my bra and pulled it away from my shoulders. I had a fleeting regret. Somewhere in the back of my drawer was a black thong and lacy bra that had cost way too much. Why hadn’t I even thought about putting those on this morning?
He must have sensed my worries because he pushed harder. “Relax,” he said slowly.
For once I listened to him and let go of my concerns. I became a melting stick of butter under his fingertips. By the time he moved lower and eased me out of my jeans, I felt moisture between my legs. I waited for him to take off my panties. But he waited, sparking a new tension inside me. He straddled my legs next, gliding his fingertips down my spine and outward toward my hip. Then he dug his thumbs in the small of my back and pushed upward, smoothing out any lingering knots.
After several minutes he lightened his fingers and caressed my spine from my neck all the way down. Snagging a finger in the fabric, he drew my panties down my legs.
My limbs were like lead and my mind lost all ability to focus. I was just a living, breathing mass of nerves. Every touch, light or firm, soothed my troubles. I was at Nick’s mercy. He knew that—seemed to relish it. His soothing words were like warm honey and I felt the tender caress of his lips as he trailed them up my body. My legs fell open and he delved in between them to my moist center.
But he didn’t stop there. I felt myself being turned over and began to protest. “Sssh,” he soothed me. “This service provides frontal massages for free.”
My erotic meter entered the red zone and I looked down my body to catch a wicked gleam in his eyes in the dim light. His fingers repeated their pressure as they made their way up my body. He steered clear of my more sensitive parts and laughed softly when I cried out in frustration. When he finally arrived at the tips of my breasts he stopped and squeezed my nipples playfully.
“Hello, Bump,” he said.
I started to giggle. I would have kicked any boy who said that when I was younger. But coming from him, it was like a shot of sex adrenaline.
“I used to think of doing this and I would get hard.”
I opened my eyes wide, startled that he had ever thought of me this way before.
“Don’t look so surprised,” he said. “Ever since you were almost seventeen I’ve wanted to touch you like this.” He kissed each breast. I thought I would explode from the pleasure he was giving me. I reached out to touch him, but he stopped my hands.
“No moving. This massage isn’t over.”
He drew his fingers over my body as if I were a piano. I lay open to him and bit my lip to keep from moaning. When he finally dipped his fingers in between my legs and into me, I let out a small scream.
He increased the pressure and I gasped as one hand caressed my breast and he moved his head lower to touch me in the most sensitive spot with his tongue. I lost all pride and begged for more. But he forced me to wait until I pleaded with him for release. I reached for him, but he pulled back.
“No, Annie. This is for you,” he whispered.
His tongue and fingers moved faster. A moment later I cried out as I came in a spiraling, out of control, mind-blowing explosion. It went on and on as Nick coaxed everything out of me until I lay in an exhausted heap.
The night was young, and I was determined to give back what I had taken. I turned the tables and gave Nick the massage of his life. We ended up upside down on the bed, with the sheets strewn on the ground and his clothes scattered across the room. I had no idea how much time had passed, but the rest of the inn was quiet around us.
“I hope no one heard me a moment ago,” I said as I lay on top of him.
&nbs
p; “Me too,” he said with a chuckle. “The last thing we need is Aunt Addie storming in here to save you.”
“She would probably bring a shotgun and force you in front of the preacher.”
“Hmmm.”
Several minutes later I brought us both back to reality. “I guess we Adlers will never be the all-American family. I can see the title of the segment on The Morning Show now: Hole in the Roof, Symbolic of Flaws in the Family.”
Nick ran his hand through my hair at the back of my head. “I’m sorry, honey. It was a pretty bad day, wasn’t it?”
It wasn’t the worst day of my life. Not by a long shot. The day my dad took his final breath was worse. The day we found out he had inoperable cancer was up there too. Seeing my mother fall apart after Dad died was awful. And then of course there was the girl on the ledge.
Nick had been right when he told me earlier that there was a lot more to fix than a roof. Maybe we all needed a reality check. I guess that was what I was thinking when I lost my head with Charlotte. I just wish I had found a less public way to point that out.
I rested my head where Nick’s heart was, ran my hand along the stray hairs on his chest, and thought about all the times I’d said stupid things. And all the times I kept my mouth shut when I shouldn’t have.
“I love you, Nick.”
His hand stopped and I didn’t want him to feel obligated to say anything, so I continued. “When I was growing up, you were my hero. I swear I thought you lived on a mountaintop. But I was, well . . . a little brat. I wanted your attention, so I did everything I could to get you to notice me. I was your worst nightmare, I’m sure. But lately I realized that all my attention-getting antics had another purpose.”
He grunted and I figured that was good, so I kept talking. “Superheroes are always too busy saving the world. They never get the girl.” I moved my head forward and kissed his neck as I continued. “So I tried to drag you down, sometimes quite literally, so you could be closer to me.”
A Wedding in Truhart Page 23