Alarm flared in Abby’s eyes. “What carpeting? Jess, we never talked about putting down new carpeting. There’s no room in the budget for that kind of expense.”
Jess sighed. “I know, but it would look great, wouldn’t it?” she said wistfully. “It would be the finishing touch this place needs to be perfect.”
“Well, put that on your wish list for when the inn starts turning a profit,” Abby advised. “The carpet we have now will look great once we get the carpet cleaners in here to shampoo it.”
“Already at the top of the list.” She stood up. “Now, you can sit there brooding for the rest of the afternoon, or you can make yourself useful and help me paint the last guest room.”
Abby regarded her with a startled expression. “You’re allowing me onto your hallowed turf upstairs?”
“Just this once. You seem in need of a distraction, and I’ll be there to supervise. Just try not to drip paint all over the floor the way you did when you helped me paint my bedroom when I was ten.”
“That wasn’t me,” Abby protested indignantly as she followed Jess up the stairs. “It was Kevin. Or maybe Connor. Neither one of them ever had the patience for painting or much of anything else when it came to odd jobs around the house. Mick used to say it was a good thing neither of them wanted to follow in his footsteps, because whatever they built was sure to fall right back down on their heads.”
Jess grinned. “You know, I think you’re right. It was Kevin.”
Abby paused on the steps, her expression sober. “I miss him,” she said quietly. “It scares me to death that he’s in Iraq.”
Jess’s good mood evaporated at once. “I know. Me, too. But our brother believes in what he’s doing. And last time he sent me an e-mail, he said he’d met a woman, another medic. I think it might be getting serious.”
“I hope not,” Abby said. “I’m not sure you can trust your emotions when tensions are running high in a situation like they’re in. I hope they’ll wait till they’re back home before they do anything permanent.”
“You’re probably right,” Jess conceded, “but I’m glad he has someone over there. It makes me feel as if there’s someone watching his back.”
All the talk about Kevin had left both of them in a somber mood. Jess forced herself to shake it off. She prayed every night for her brother’s safe return, and that was all she could do, aside from sending him boxes and boxes of Gram’s cookies every month. According to Kevin, his unit looked forward to the arrival of those packages as much as he did.
“Come on. Let’s go paint,” she said, marching up the last of the steps. “I don’t want to think about the danger our brother is in or whether he’s going to get too serious with a woman he hardly knows.” She grinned again. “I’d much rather talk about your love life.”
“It’s going to be a very boring conversation,” Abby retorted.
“Have you taken a good look at Trace? No way is a conversation about that man ever going to be boring.”
Judging from the bright pink flags that immediately appeared in her sister’s cheeks, Abby didn’t disagree. Jess had a feeling that with a few good nudges, those two just might wind up back in each other’s arms, precisely where they’d belonged years ago. She might have been only twelve, but she’d seen something probably no one else had—that walking away from Trace had been just as hard on Abby as it had been on him.
Abby had spent a surprisingly pleasant afternoon with her sister. For once Jess hadn’t been on the defensive about their forced business relationship. Instead, it had been like old times with all the teasing banter and resulting laughter. She was glad about that. The last thing she wanted was for this situation Trace had created to cause a rift between them. If they could just spend a little more time laughing, maybe they’d come through this rough patch with their bond as sisters intact.
Still hoping to avoid an uncomfortable encounter with Wes, especially in light of Jess’s take on her marriage, she’d hung out at the inn until late in the evening, sharing a pizza with Jess and discussing plans for the grand opening just ahead of the Fourth of July holiday, which was only about six weeks away. She’d even mentioned the possibility of hiring Trace to design an ad campaign for them. Naturally Jess had promptly accused her of trying to find ways to spend even more time with him than she already was. Though she’d denied it, she couldn’t honestly swear that there wasn’t some truth to Jess’s analysis of her motivation.
She was still smiling about that discussion when she stepped onto the porch at home and Wes called out to her. Her good spirits promptly fled.
“I’ve been waiting up for you,” he said. “Where were you? It’s getting late.”
Abby frowned at his tone. It wasn’t just possessive. It had a judgmental edge to it, one that was not only uncharacteristic but inappropriate. Still, she fought to keep her response mild. Maybe she was being overly sensitive herself after listening to her sister’s low opinion of the way Wes treated her.
“I promised you I was going to stay out of your way, so you could spend this weekend with the girls,” she reminded him.
“Were you really being considerate, or were you trying to avoid talking to me about your new boyfriend?”
Abby had been about to sit down, but the question kept her standing, her temper stirring. “First, I don’t have a new boyfriend. Second, even if I did, he would be none of your business. Third, I really don’t like the tone in your voice, so I’m going to bed.”
She was halfway across the porch when he called after her. “Wait, Abby.”
She paused but didn’t turn around.
“I was out of line,” he added.
“Yes, you were,” she said. She made no move to go back and join him.
“Can we talk, please?”
“About?”
“Don’t blow a gasket, but I do want to know what’s going on between you and this guy who’s been spending time with my girls.”
“They’re our girls,” she reminded him. “And for the last time, there is nothing going on between Trace and me. We’re old friends.”
“Who used to date,” he added.
She frowned. “How do you know that?”
“We ran into him in town. He could hardly wait to tell me that you used to have a relationship. It was also plain to me that he intends to continue it.”
“And of course, mindless me, I’ll go along with whatever anyone wants. Is that what you’re suggesting?” She was beginning to see what Jess had been talking about. Wes really could be a judgmental jerk. How had she never noticed that before? Had she been too busy taking all of his criticisms about her faults to heart?
“Of course you’re not mindless,” he said, regarding her with what looked like genuine dismay. “I’m just telling you what he said.”
“Or what you interpreted based on whatever he actually said,” she accused. “I’m not in the mood for this, Wes. We’ll talk in the morning, because if we continue this right now we’re going to have a really nasty fight.”
Even in the porch’s shadows, she could see the bewilderment in his expression. “What’s happened to you? You never used to take offense so easily.”
“Let’s just say that I had a conversation today that helped me to take my blinders off where you’re concerned.”
“With this Trace Riley fellow? What did he say about me?”
She sighed heavily. “Trace didn’t say a thing. I haven’t seen or spoken to him today.”
“Jess, th
en,” he said, sounding resigned. “She knows I’ve never approved of how she uses you. I’m sure she was eager to retaliate by saying all sorts of unflattering things about me.”
Abby could have stood there and debated the point with him. Or she could have simply told him off. Instead, she merely said good-night and walked away. Maybe by morning she wouldn’t feel like smacking him silly.
Trace hadn’t been able to get Abby out of his mind all day. He’d tried calling her cell phone a couple of times, but either she didn’t have it with her or it was turned off or she was ignoring the calls because she didn’t want to talk to him.
Taking his phone with him, he walked down to the end of the block and found a bench looking out at the water. The half-moon was sparkling on the waves and the sky was filled with stars. There were quite a few people out for a stroll—couples, groups of teens, families. There were even more people sitting at the various sidewalk cafés across the street. Chesapeake Shores was busy for a May night that still had a slight nip in the air. He saw a few people he knew, but most were tourists who’d come because of the restaurants and quaint shops that stayed open late into the evening on weekends.
He’d thought coming out here would relax him, but it only made him miss Abby more. Flipping open his cell phone, he called her again.
“Yes, hello,” she snapped, her tone testier than he’d ever heard it.
“Did I catch you in the middle of something?” he asked, treading carefully.
“Yes, a major-league snit,” she said, her tone mellowing slightly.
“Caused by?”
“My ex-husband, if you must know. He was waiting to ambush me when I got home a little while ago. He was just full of questions about my boyfriend. That would be you, by the way.”
She didn’t sound overjoyed, though he couldn’t tell for sure if it was because of the questions or because of the label her ex had pinned on him.
“Am I supposed to say I’m sorry?”
“For what? You’re not responsible for him jumping to all sorts of misguided conclusions. Look, I really don’t want to talk about this. Did you call for any particular reason?”
“It’s probably not the best time to admit I just wanted to hear your voice, is it?”
Silence greeted the question, though he had a feeling she was fighting a smile. She’d always been quick to anger, but just as quick to let it go.
“Abby, why don’t you come meet me for a drink?” he coaxed. “You sound as if you could use one.”
“Which is exactly why it’s a bad idea.”
“What’s bad about it? It’s still early. I’m down here by the water at the end of Main Street. There are lots of people around. There’s no way we could possibly succumb to temptation in this crowd,” he teased, even though it was the kind of night that encouraged romance.
“Who says I’d be tempted to succumb to your charms?”
“Maybe it’s the other way around,” he retorted. “Maybe I’m afraid you’ll seduce me.”
“You don’t sound afraid. You sound eager.”
Trace chuckled at her perceptiveness. “Okay, you got me. Come on. It’s one drink. Not even a real date.”
He could tell she was weighing her options. When she finally said yes, he couldn’t be sure if it was his persuasiveness, his challenge or her annoyance with her ex-husband that decided her. Whatever it was, he was relieved. And eager.
“I’ll stay put where I am,” he said. “You find me when you get here, and we’ll pick out a place to go together.”
“You’re right at the end of Main Street?”
“On a bench facing the bay. The same one where we used to meet.”
“I’ll be there soon,” she said.
Pleased with himself, Trace tucked his phone in his pocket and settled back to wait.
Fifteen minutes later there was a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to find Abby standing behind him. Her hair was windblown, her cheeks rosy.
“You drove Mick’s convertible, didn’t you?”
She grinned mischievously. “I did.”
“What’ll he do if he finds out?” he asked, knowing how her father babied the original Mustang and classic Corvette that came out of the garage only for town parades. Abby had ridden in the back of the Mustang the year she’d been Homecoming Queen, but no one in the family other than Mick had ever been allowed to drive either car. “I seem to recall Connor being grounded for a month when he took the Mustang for a ride one night.”
“I’m too old to be grounded,” she said, and gave him a challenging look. “Besides, Mick’s in San Francisco. Who’s going to tell him? You?”
“No way, sweetheart. Then I’d have to admit how I found out, because you were sneaking out of the house to meet me. I don’t care how old and independent you are, I’m not sure how Mick would feel about that, either.”
She came around and dropped down beside him. “I have to admit that creeping out to the garage and taking that car did add an element of excitement to my evening. Took me right back to the times I crawled out of my bedroom window and shimmied down a tree to meet you.”
Trace laughed. He’d always loved that reckless side of her, had, in fact, encouraged it. “I’ve always been a terrible influence on you apparently.” He studied her intently and noted that despite her light tone, she didn’t look happy. “So did you borrow Mick’s car for the thrill of getting away with it, or was there another reason?”
She hesitated, then said, “If I’d taken mine, I was afraid Wes would see me and demand to know where I was going.”
Trace bristled. “Why would it be his business?”
“I have no idea. Something tells me that his encounter with you earlier today has something to do with it.”
Trace had worried that his casual comment about having a past relationship with Abby would stir up trouble, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why it should. Their relationship had ended before she and Wes had even met. “Can I ask you a serious question?”
“Only if you buy me that drink,” she said.
He stood up at once and held out his hand. “Okay then, let’s walk until we find a place that we like. With so many new little cafés along here, there’s bound to be something that fits the bill.”
Abby took his hand and fell into step beside him. “It really is amazing, isn’t it?” she said as they walked past an ethnic smorgasbord of small restaurants. When they were kids, there’d been only the pizza place, which had been a popular teen hangout along with Sally’s, a frozen custard and snowball shop that was open only in summer and a gourmet coffee shop that also sold newspapers and magazines.
“Just look at how many new places have opened up since we were living here. I wonder if Dad envisioned this.”
“He must have,” Trace said. “After all, he designed this row of commercial property along here.”
“There was only one block of commercial property originally,” Abby reminded him. “Now there are two or three.”
“Have you spotted any place that appeals to you?” Trace asked, anxious to get back to that discussion about her ex-husband. Maybe, he admitted to himself, even more anxious to get her alone in the shadows where he could try his luck stealing another kiss.
“They all look fine,” she responded. “You choose.”
“How about that one?” he asked, gesturing toward one where most of the outdoor tables had emptied. They could have the patio to themselves. “Will yo
u be too cold if we sit outside?”
“No, this feels downright balmy compared to the cold spell we were having when I left New York.”
He nodded. “Yeah, that’s when I left, too. I got out just ahead of a snowstorm. I don’t think the city got much, though.”
“If it was the one that fell the night before I came home, it was only a dusting. The roads to the airport were completely clear when the girls and I left to fly down here.”
Trace settled her at a table, asked what she wanted to drink, then stuck his head inside to alert a waiter that they were there and needed a glass of wine and a beer.
“Are you hungry?” he asked her when the waiter brought their drinks.
“No, Jess and I had pizza earlier at the inn, but you order something if you’re hungry.”
“Maybe later,” he told the waiter, then turned back to her. “Okay, you have your drink, now I get to ask my question. Which one of you wanted out of the marriage, you or Wes?”
“He did.”
“That confirms it,” Trace said. “The guy’s an idiot.”
Abby smiled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Was he having an affair?”
“Heavens no,” she said, sounding genuinely shocked by the question. “Wes lived by a rock-solid set of family values.”
“Rock-solid, yet they included divorce?”
“Only after I proved that I couldn’t live up to his high standard for being a proper wife. I worked too much. I had too much drive and ambition. I wasn’t free for all the social engagements that keep his world spinning.”
“Didn’t he know that about you when you were dating?”
She nodded. “That’s what I’ve never entirely figured out. I didn’t change. I guess he just assumed that once we were married and had kids, I’d forget all about my career and stay home where he thought I belonged. We certainly didn’t need my income, but he never figured out that I didn’t work because of the money.”
The Inn at Eagle Point Page 17