“Okay. What’s the matter with all of you?” He folded his paper and laid it aside. “All of our remaining guests are checking out today and we have four days to focus on nothing but the coming weekend. This is one morning we can actually sit and have breakfast and breathe, and you-all are acting like the train’s about to pull out of the station or like it’s run over your toe.”
Sophie swallowed her bite of toast. “I’m having housekeeping and grounds help clear out some of the furniture and roll up rugs near the back of the great room, to open it up and make room for the dance floor. We’ll leave the seating nearest the fireplace though.”
“I have some thoughts about what could go where,” he told her.
She patted his arm. “Of course you do.”
“You have opinions on everything,” Dev added. “Don’t worry though, I’ll incorporate the ‘Great Room According to Roark’ in my decisions.”
“Don’t be a smart-ass,” he told his brother.
Madison cleared her throat. “Brenda is coming by today as well, to talk layout and where to put which flower arrangements.” She kept her gaze on her eggs, studying them like they were one of life’s great mysteries.
“And I’m going to help by giving them my two cents.” Dev sipped his coffee.
Sophie perked up. “You’re using Brenda for flowers? I didn’t know that. That’s awesome.”
“Roark said she was the best.” Madison quickly glanced up at him.
“Oh, she is, and she loves the Bradley boys.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re her favorite though.” Devlin stole the last triangle of toast.
“Wait until you see this list of arrangements,” Roark told them. “Madison may make it on her favorites list ahead of all of us. There are at least ten of those big . . .” He glanced at Madison for help, but she’d moved on to fiddling with the handle of her coffee cup. “What are those things called?”
“Centerpieces?” She quirked a brow at him.
“No, the large arrangements, that ‘anchor the room,’ as you call it.”
“Features.”
“Yes, features, plus a list of centerpieces and bouquets that’s longer than Brenda is tall.”
Devlin leaned back in his seat and looked at Madison. “We need to meet to discuss the trips I lined up to visit the winery and the shopping downtown. I was thinking too, maybe have Steve set up a little champagne bar for the day of arrival. Mimosas for the early people, straight up for the latecomers, sort of set the tone for the weekend.”
A champagne bar was exactly the sort of frivolousness that normally sent Roark into a budgeting-induced tirade. He had to remind himself this was all being paid for, by the couple, and he was not in charge right now.
“I think that’s a cool idea,” Sophie answered first, immediately sneaking a look at Roark, waiting for his reaction. He glanced across the table to find Madison staring and waiting as well.
Her words came back to him. You’re pretty tough on your siblings.
He knew he was. He’d always known. From the time Dev was learning to dress himself, through the disaster that were his high school and college years, yes, he was hard on his brother, because someone had to be.
Dev sipped his coffee, an edge sharpening in his gaze, as though he knew Roark was about to squash his fledgling idea to a pulp.
“Yeah, I think that’d be a nice welcoming gesture. Nothing too formal, but a little bubbly always brightens up the atmosphere and makes it festive.”
Madison didn’t exactly smile at his response; more of a flash in her eyes. Whether the flash was good or bad, he couldn’t quite tell.
Roark picked up his coffee mug, the weight of three people staring at him making it hard to swallow. “What?”
Sophie was the first to speak. Naturally. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m great. Why?”
“I bet I know why.” Beside him, Dev half mumbled, half coughed into his napkin so only Roark could hear.
Roark gave him a warning glare and Sophie leaned over to say, “Okay, that’s more like it. For a minute I thought maybe I’d woken up in an alternate universe. Don’t get me wrong, you two getting along is stellar, but you can’t just spring it on me. I need time to adjust.”
That got a mild smirk out of Madison. The most life she’d shown all morning.
“I’m going to go so I can meet my crew in a few minutes.” Sophie slid her chair out, taking one last sip of coffee as she stood.
“I’ll go up with you. Brush my teeth and stuff before Brenda gets here. See you in a few.” Dev nodded to Madison before they left the restaurant.
Roark watched them go, both siblings still as aggravating as ever, but he was a little more thankful that he had them around. That he’d always had them around.
“The eggs no good?” he asked Madison, her plate still full of food. Even the biscuits and honey remained untouched.
“Not hungry.”
“If you do get hungry later, let Wright know and he’ll hook you up with something. Since everyone is checking out today, I think he’s mostly cleaning and doing prep work for Thursday. Don’t want you to get peckish.”
“I’m fine.” The words came out clipped, edgier.
“Okay. Just trying to look out for you.”
“I need you to worry about making sure the rest of the inn is topnotch. I know Sophie has the great room and guest rooms covered and Dev is going to help me and Brenda with the layout of the floral arrangements. I want to make sure the inn has never run smoother.”
He felt compelled to remind her he was as invested in this as she was. “I’m anxious about this event too, but it’s going to be great. I’ll check in with everyone today to make sure.”
“I’m not anxious.”
Sure she wasn’t. “All right, then you’re fine, but I admit I have some nervous energy, which always makes me the picture of diligence. Everything will be shipshape. I promise.”
Madison put her silverware on her plate. “Great. That’s all I ask. I’m going to go meet with our—I mean, the florist.”
She couldn’t have left the restaurant faster if her ass was on fire. Hightailing it into fifth gear, Madison was out the door and out of sight in seconds.
“Any more coffee?” the waitress asked him.
What he wanted to do was chase down Madison and ask her what the hell was the matter with her. He wasn’t an amateur when it came to people giving him the cold shoulder. Something was up, and they might as well talk about it to get it out of the way.
He also knew if he pushed and prodded her, she’d shut down completely. Better to let some of the day go by, casually talk with her again later, and gauge her disposition.
But he’d find out what was going on, chilliness be damned.
After making his rounds to practically every single employee of Honeywilde, making sure they were all bolstered and buffered for the coming weekend, along with resolving a few issues and gripes, the day was half over.
After lunch, he found Madison, still talking with Brenda, and Dev standing a few steps away from them, arms flung wide in a gesture toward the stone fireplace.
“Are we discussing flowers or playing charades?”
“Hey, honey!” Brenda hugged him right away as Madison hung back.
“I’m trying to convince Madison and Brenda that something for the mantel might look nice. Evergreens or whatever would last the weekend. Liven it up a bit.” Dev lowered his arms and looked at him, an expression on his face like he was just waiting for Roark to shoot him down.
“I think you’re right. Something up there besides the clock and candlesticks would look nice.”
A little crease appeared between Devlin’s eyebrows as he blinked at him. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Seriously. It draws attention to the fireplace too.” He intentionally looked at Madison. “With our recently fixed and resealed hearth.”
Her gaze barely brushed his.
His brother shook his head,
looking a little shell-shocked. “Okay.”
Brenda swatted at his arm. “We are going to have this place looking like a one-of-a-kind wonder. I can’t wait to see it myself. I’ve got some flowers coming in that I have never used before. I’m so excited.”
No one got a thrill out of flowers like Brenda. He tried to catch Madison’s gaze again, to smile about her enthusiasm, or make some kind of basic eye contact.
He got nothing. Madison kept her focus on the mantel, tapping her pen against her lips in thought. Her aloofness could be written off as her just being in work mode, but Roark knew that wasn’t the whole reason.
“Evergreens, and let’s use some chrysanthemums of the same colors as in the features, to tie it all together,” Madison said.
Brenda made a note in a little spiral notebook. “I have plenty. Not a problem.”
“Then I think we’re all set.” Madison at least made eye contact with her, and got a hug in return.
“I will be here Thursday with some flowers for the arrivals, and then I will see y’all early Saturday with a van of flowers fit to marry off a princess.” Brenda hugged Roark goodbye and did the same to Devlin with an added, “Behave” tacked onto the end.
They stood and watched her as she walked away.
Dev was the first to break the silence. “Well, I’m glad you liked the mantel idea and . . .” He looked back and forth between them. “I’m going to go find Wright and Sophie. Catch you guys later.”
He all but ran away from them and the tense silence that hung in the air. Roark stared at Madison’s profile. After a long moment, he cracked.
* * *
“That’s it.” Roark was suddenly in front of her, like he’d popped up from the floor. “What is going on with you? You’ve been acting weird ever since we got back from . . .” He looked around to make sure the great room was still empty. “Skinny-dipping.”
She crossed her arms in front of her, but finally met his gaze. The tension showed in his eyes, and in the tight way he held himself. “How do you know I’m acting weird? You haven’t known me long enough to know what weird looks like on me.”
“This is what weird looks like on you.” He moved one hand up and down as though presenting her to herself. “Normally you say exactly what’s on your mind and today you’ve been sullen and quiet. There’s obviously something wrong and I know it’s not the sex.”
She stared back at him, and all of his confidence and fortitude visibly crumbled.
“Oh shit. It’s not the sex, is it?” He stepped closer. “Because I’m pretty sure both of us—”
Madison shook her head. “No, it’s not the sex.” She wasn’t okay, but for him to think that the sex was anything less than phenomenal was just wrong. “The sex is great. Better than great.”
“Then what is it?”
She looked away, out the window, wishing the long, rolling silhouette of the Smoky Mountains could give her the right words. Even better if the mountains would help her understand what was wrong with her.
Approaching the fireplace, she let out the breath she’d been holding and sank down to sit on the newly refurbished hearth. “I don’t know.”
Roark shook his head and sat down next her, looking determined yet so confused. “I’m trying to understand here, but you’ve got to give me something beyond I don’t know.”
She did know that she never let anyone get close to her, and yesterday she’d done exactly that. Not only was she getting too attached to Roark’s company, she enjoyed his family, this place, all of it.
Devlin was a wandering soul, wrapped in a wild package. Anyone from the outside looking in could see he did half of what he did just to get under Roark’s skin, the other half he did to gain his approval. Sophie’s personality matched her spitfire appearance. The redhead stereotype was tired, yet couldn’t be any truer in her case.
Never a moment of boredom with the Bradley clan, but she was still able to work and find solitude without ever feeling solitary. The problem wasn’t that she didn’t understand why she was freaking out. The problem was she shouldn’t be freaking out at all.
Normal people didn’t have sleepless nights and mounting anxiety just because they’d found someone they liked, and happened to enjoy their family too.
“Maybe you’re more nervous about the wedding than you can admit?” Roark suggested. “Even to yourself?”
She wished it were that simple. A few nerves flitted around her brain, but that was the rush of her job. She thrived on the excitement level. “Sure. That’s probably it.”
He studied her before smoothing his hands down his thighs to settle on his knees. “Y’know, you lie about as well as you play a dumb blonde, but if you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong with you, just say that you don’t want to talk to me. Don’t be scared. I’m a big boy, I can take it.”
Madison straightened at the challenge. “It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you. I do want to talk to you, but I don’t like that I told you all that stuff yesterday. The stuff about me.”
Roark’s expression remained neutral. He was giving her silence in case she didn’t want to say any more, but he was also waiting, his pupils wide with the hope she’d open up a little bit more.
“Dammit. And I hate that you can get to me.”
“I’m not trying to get to . . .” He tilted his head to the side. “Okay, maybe I am.”
She hit him with a loaded look. “I know! You sit there looking so patient and accepting and I just blah.” She opened her mouth in imitation of spewing out all her feelings.
He leaned an elbow on his thigh, and angled forward so he could face her. So she’d have to look at him. “I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not. Anything is better than you stonewalling me with ‘I’m fine.’ I’m sure you’re aware, but you’re kind of hard to get through to sometimes. I’m glad I can.”
But why did he want to get through? What was the point? She didn’t have anything to get through to.
“Do you want to tell me why you don’t like that you told me about your folks?” he asked, his expression suddenly full of concern.
His attempt at pushing through didn’t concern her as much as how well it worked. “It—It’s that I . . . I don’t talk about my mother, or my father, to anyone. The fact that I did, to you, freaks me out. A lot.” She couldn’t believe she was telling him that either.
“Okay.”
“And . . . I know I’ve been sullen, but now you know why. Personal chitchat and sharing my past, that isn’t my thing. It makes me uncomfortable.” She took a deep breath and smoothed her hair over her chignon. “But we need to move on. We have a lot to do today and tomorrow. So let’s go get it done.”
She pushed herself off the stone hearth, but Roark still sat, his pale gaze piercing her with a look that went straight through. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t have to. That look said plenty. He didn’t buy her moving-on speech, and he didn’t look thrilled that opening up about personal details screwed with her head enough to make her shut down and then act like a manic workaholic.
Maybe now he’d understand that the effort of trying to get through to her wasn’t worth it. She wasn’t that great to be around and her head was a big mess. She was a freak; a highly functioning, successful freak. He might as well learn that now.
Roark stood, his gaze icy. “As long as you’re fine, then I guess I worried for nothing.” He turned and walked away from the fireplace, leaving her behind.
It stung, but she deserved it. Roark was better off walking away from her.
Everybody did, and she didn’t know how to deal with anything else.
Chapter 21
He waited one more day before showing up at Madison’s room. She’d spoken to him yesterday, a little, some of the casual camaraderie back between them, but she’d been fine all day yesterday too. She kept insisting she was so okay that he wanted to bang his head against the stone fireplace.
Things were not fine. They had less than three days until th
e wedding party arrived; that meant only five more days together. Madison would go back to the city, and Roark would get back to running a resort. Their time together would come to an end and there’d be no reason for them to see each other again unless they chose to. Nothing about that was okay, and Madison knew it, but hell would freeze over before she’d ever say as much.
If one of his siblings acted this bullheaded, he would’ve called them on it immediately. Problem was, he had called Madison out. She’d told him why she was acting odd, but he didn’t like her logic. Or lack of it. Maybe she’d spoken the truth. Maybe opening up to him was all that bothered her and she really was fine that she’d be leaving in a few days. Possibly, Roark was the only one becoming invested in what they had—
Regardless, the fact remained that Madison was freezing him out. Withdrawing and shutting herself off. And he wasn’t having it.
Pressuring someone like Madison or holding on too tight would only guarantee her hightailing it in the opposite direction. A heavy-handed approach wouldn’t work, and if her inevitable exit from Honeywilde really didn’t bother her, then all they had were a few days.
Days. The thought of it knotted his stomach. No way could she be satisfied with wrapping up this thing between them, within days. He damn sure wouldn’t be. Their remaining time together had to count; he’d see to it. Then he’d see to somehow dragging it out a little longer.
If she didn’t want to overshare or open up emotionally in the meantime, fine.
Damn, he hated that word.
A new plan was necessary. He wouldn’t ask too many questions, prod too hard, or ask too much of her. He was capable of being smooth, somewhat, of hanging back and being the opposite of proactive. There were plenty of other things to talk about. They could chat about work or the weather . . . or work.
He knocked on her door, and the realization struck him that he’d never been in her room, or her in his. She’d been here for almost two weeks, but never once had they been in each other’s room.
On the other hand, they weren’t a thing, as she called it, and when you weren’t a thing, you didn’t stay over at each other’s place. This wasn’t even Madison’s place. She had a room at Honeywilde. A temporary location while she planned an event that quickly approached and would be over faster than that.
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