Suddenly Last Summer

by Sarah Morgan

  When he dated a woman he never talked about the past or the future. He lived in the present. For both their sakes he ought to go back to Boston and stay away until Christmas.

  “I have to go back to Boston tonight.”

  Something flickered in her eyes. “Of course you do.”

  That was it. So now he should stand up and get the hell out of there before he did something that was going to end in trouble.

  I’ll see you around, Élise.

  “There’s a new restaurant about an hour from here I’ve been meaning to try. If you could persuade my brother to give you a night off next Saturday, you could come and give your professional opinion.”

  She stared at him. “You mean go out together?”

  “As opposed to having crazy sex in the forest?” His tone was dry. “Yeah, I mean go out together. Spend an evening together where I don’t ruin my shoes. Share food and conversation. It’s not hard to do.” But he guessed for her, it was.

  “So—you mean like a date?”

  He’d chosen not to give it a name. “Well, I’m planning on getting through the evening with our clothes on, if that’s what you mean. If we’re in public, we might even manage it. So what do you say?”

  “I don’t date.”

  “Neither do I. So I guess that makes both of us clueless about that part, but we both eat so we could just focus on that and see how it goes. We have fun together. It doesn’t need to be any more complicated than that.” He enjoyed her company. She enjoyed his. That was all it was. Two people spending time together.

  “All right.” She said it slowly, as if she wasn’t sure. Then the dimple flickered in the corner of her mouth. “But I’m only saying yes because it means you’ll be coming back here again next weekend and that will please Walter.”

  “You could just cut me out and have dinner with Gramps if you prefer.”

  “No, because then you wouldn’t have a reason to come home. But we could take him with us. If we’re keeping our clothes on, it wouldn’t make any difference.”

  “I might have been lying about that. I might have been planning on getting you naked after dinner.”

  She laughed. “Maybe I was planning on getting you naked. Can you really take the time off?”

  “Yes.” More juggling. More favors. “Can you?”

  “I’ll need to check with Poppy and Elizabeth. I should be able to. We have a strong team now. And anyway, this is research. It’s important.”

  “Research?”

  “I’m a chef. It’s good to sample other people’s food occasionally.” She stood up. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  SEAN FOUND JACKSON up a ladder, fixing the roof of one of the lodges. “You get all the glamorous jobs.”

  “That’s me. Living the life of a tycoon.” Jackson finished the job and climbed down the ladder. “I assume you’re getting your butt back to Boston?”

  “Soon. I just checked on Sam. He’s doing all right.”

  “Thanks to you.” Jackson put his tools down. “So when will we see you next? Christmas?”

  “Gramps invited me to family night.”

  His brother smiled. “I wish I’d been there to see your face. I presume you won’t be there?”

  “No, but I’ll be here next weekend. I’m taking Élise out to dinner so if you want to put dents in me, you should probably do it now.”

  Jackson wiped his hands on his jeans. “From what I heard, she’s perfectly capable of putting dents in you herself. What did you do to her?”

  “Nothing! Not that it’s any of your damn business.” Sean swore under his breath. “Is anything secret around here?”

  “Not when you’re living in my house, trailing lake water into my kitchen and distracting my staff.”

  “As it happens I didn’t do anything, but there was a time I probably did deserve it and didn’t get it so we’ll call it even. Can the restaurant survive without her on Saturday night?”

  “If she says it can, then it can. She’s the one in charge of that side of the business. She’s been careful to put in a good staff so that the place doesn’t fall apart if she isn’t there. And she deserves five minutes off. I’m just surprised she wants to spend it with you.”

  Sean gave a short laugh. “Thanks. I love you, too.”

  He never said it, he realized. He never said those words to his family.

  They all just took it for granted.

  “So is this going to be a regular thing? You coming home more often? Because over the past couple of years I got the impression you’d rather be just about anywhere but here.”

  It was the first time they’d addressed the truth so bluntly.

  Sean felt tension ripple across his shoulders. “I’ve been busy.”

  “Yeah, I get that. But we both know that isn’t what’s keeping you away.” Jackson kicked a stone with the toe of his boot. “You’re not the only one who misses him, you know. We all miss him. And Gramps probably misses him most of all.”

  Sean felt a stab of guilt because he knew he’d been so focused on getting through his own grief he’d barely thought about anyone else. His strategy for survival had been work and absence. “We had a row. At the funeral.”

  Jackson nodded. “I guessed there was something.”

  “I said things—” The memory ripped through him, bringing with it the pain and the feeling of helplessness. “I was out of line.”

  “It was a bad time for all of us.”

  “I blamed him.” Sean pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “I said it was his fault. If Dad hadn’t hated being here so much, he wouldn’t have gone to New Zealand. Wouldn’t have been in that damn car and wouldn’t have hit the ice.”

  “You know that’s bullshit, right?”

  “Is it?” He couldn’t quite let go of it. It had played on his mind over and over again. Every time he was on the edge of bringing up the subject with his grandfather, that fact got in the way. “Gramps heaped pressure on Dad right from the start. All he ever cared about was this place.”

  “Yeah, he cares about this place, but he was protecting the family home and business.” Jackson pulled the ladder away from the roof and lowered it to the ground. “Which is more than Dad did.”

  Sean felt the anger spark. “He did his best.”

  “Did he?”

  “He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to spend his life doing this.”

  “Then he should have stood up and said so. He should have had the courage to make that choice.” Jackson’s knuckles were white on the ladder. “Instead, he ran Snow Crystal into the ground. He should have told someone he couldn’t handle it, but he hid the figures from everyone, including Gramps. Gramps suspected, which is why he kept putting pressure on Dad to tell him the truth. Gramps was panicking.”

  “Because he thought they’d lose the business—”

  “Because he thought they’d lose their home! Everything! For fuck’s sake, Sean, think about Grams and Mom and all the people we employ. The truth is Dad had a responsibility and he ignored it. He took charge of the ship and then he stood there and let it sail onto the rocks.”

  “That isn’t what happened.”

  “Isn’t it? Were you here? Did you look at the books? Did you talk to Gramps about what was going on or did you just listen to Dad? Yeah, you two were close—I know that and I never had any problem with it, but it blinded you. You’re supposed to be a doctor. You’re supposed to be analytical and make judgments based on evidence, not emotion. Maybe it’s time you did that.”

  Sean’s mouth felt as if he’d swallowed sand. The image in his head, once so clear, was blurry and distorted. “I had evidence. Dad used to call me late at night to offload. He told me Gramps was on his back the whole time. That he was doing his best but it was never good enough.”

  “He called you? I didn’t know that.” Jackson closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Your
business in Europe was expanding. You had your own problems. I didn’t think you needed to know.” He breathed. “I should have known there was more than one side to the story. I should have asked more questions. I knew Dad hated running the business. He’d always hated it so I didn’t see anything new there. I didn’t know he was hiding things. I didn’t know he was struggling. Gramps never said anything.”

  “He didn’t want to tarnish the memory we had of him.” Jackson gave a short laugh. “The irony was, I was doing the same thing. Once I discovered the mess, I tried to unravel it without revealing the extent of it. I thought it would upset Gramps. Turned out he knew all along.”

  “When did you find out the truth?”

  “After Dad died and I came home. By then Gramps was so terrified of trusting someone else, so guilty about giving Dad Snow Crystal when he didn’t want it, he was pretty difficult to handle. Wouldn’t let me pick up a pinecone without checking with him first.” Jackson picked up a bottle of water that was piled on his tools. “We got through it.”

  Sensing the depth of that understatement, Sean felt a new respect for his brother. “You didn’t tell me any of that.”

  “I didn’t want to tarnish Dad’s memory for you, either.”

  “He resented this place. He felt as if it was trapping him. I guess he passed a little of that onto me.”

  “He shouldn’t have dumped all over you the way he did. You should have said something.”

  “Didn’t want to burden you with that.” He gave a humorless laugh. “So everyone was protecting everyone.”

  “Seems that way.” Jackson drank. “And I was handling it. I thought the detail was something you didn’t need to know. If I’d known you were getting those calls, I might have thought differently.”

  “It was always late at night. Must have been after Mom went to bed.”

  “He unloaded onto you.” Jackson gripped the bottle of water in his hand. “You should have told me. And I should have told you about the mess he’d left. It would have stopped you nurturing your anger at Gramps for the past couple of years. Is that why you haven’t been coming home?”

  “That and the guilt.”

  “Guilt?”

  Sean kicked a loose stone. “You gave up everything to come home and run this place. It dropped from Dad’s shoulders onto yours. And I left you to get on with it.”

  Jackson frowned. “What else would you do? You may be a damn good doctor but you know nothing about profit margins and getting heads on beds. And there’s the fact that running this place isn’t what you want to do.”

  “That’s true, but—”

  “Running this place is what I want to do. It’s what I do best. You’re doing what you do best and we’re all proud of you.” Jackson screwed the top back on the bottle. “And that includes Gramps.”

  Sean thought about the conversation they’d had earlier. “Maybe.”

  “It’s not a maybe.”

  “There’s something else. About Dad.” He licked his lips. He’d never said the words out loud before. Just thought them. “Do you think it really was an accident or do you think he—”

  “No, I don’t. I’m not saying the thought didn’t enter my head at the time it happened because it did, but it only hung around for a second.” Jackson reached out and closed his hand over Sean’s shoulder. “Dad was a lousy businessman but he loved his family. And he loved this place. He just didn’t know how to run it and he didn’t want to learn. He crashed the car because he hit ice. The accident report was clear on that. Nothing else. He wouldn’t have done that to Mom. To Grams. To all of us.”

  “I need to talk to Gramps. We’ve both been putting it off. Talked about everything but what happened. I owe him an apology.”

  Jackson dropped his hand and grinned. “You could show up to family night. That should do it.”

  THE RESTAURANT WAS pretty, with views over Lake Champlain to the mountains beyond.

  “It’s charming.” Élise slid into her chair and glanced around her, taking in flickering candles and silverware. “Not as cozy as the Boathouse and less formal than the Inn. A blend of both.”

  “Taking someone who can cook like you out to dinner is a daunting prospect.” But Sean didn’t look daunted as he spoke briefly to their waiter and shrugged off his jacket. She shouldn’t have looked, but she did. At his shoulders, broad and powerful under the tailored shirt, at his jaw, freshly shaved but already showing a suggestion of shadow. Tonight he was pure sophistication, but for a moment she had a vision of him stripped to the waist, working on her deck and then that vision morphed into another one of him, this time with his shoulders slammed against the tree, shirt half ripped where she’d torn it from his body.

  Her heart beat just a little faster. It didn’t matter whether he was half-naked on her deck or dressed in a suit, he always had the same effect on her.

  She was relieved he couldn’t read her mind and then she lifted her gaze to his face and realized that he could.

  It was there in his eyes. The heat. The wry gleam that told her he was feeling the same way.

  She looked away. “You shouldn’t feel daunted. I’m just pleased not to have to cook my own food.”

  “You look pretty in that dress. Blue suits you.”

  Her pulse danced. Her life didn’t include dinner with men and compliments. “It’s teal.”

  “Is it? Then teal suits you. This place is supposed to be the best place to eat around here. The chef is new.” He relaxed in his chair, glancing around him and she wondered if he’d sensed her tension.

  “I can’t wait to see the menu.”

  “You’re not looking at the menu. I’m ordering.”

  “You think I’ve lost my powers of speech?”

  “No, but if we give you a menu you’ll be studying every dish and every ingredient instead of paying attention to me. We’ll have the chowder followed by the maple glazed duck.” Smiling, he handed the menu and the wine list back to the arriving server and ordered a bottle of Pinot Noir. “Are you going to tell me off for ordering red wine with fish?”

  “No. I love Pinot Noir, as you well know. It is an excellent wine for food.”

  “And a really tricky grape to grow. André Tchelistcheff said ‘God made Cabernet Sauvignon whereas the Devil made Pinot Noir.’” He waited until the wine was poured and lifted his glass. “One day I’ll take you on a Pinot Noir tasting trip to California. We’ll start in Yorkville and end up on the coast at Albion. Forty miles of glorious scenery. Redwood forests that have been there for centuries and acres of vineyards. We could even drive to San Francisco and spend a few days tasting sourdough bread and seafood.”

  He was talking as if they had a future. As if this were a relationship, not a night out.

  Or maybe he was just trying to keep the conversation light and general to make her comfortable.

  She studied the color of the wine, a light ruby-red, thinking that what he described sounded wonderful. “That would be like a dream.”

  “It doesn’t have to be a dream. Now that the Boathouse is up and running you can employ more staff, have more time off.”

  “We can’t afford to employ more staff. Things are better, but not that good. I know Jackson is still worried. He worries that if the winter season is not good, if there is not enough snow—” She shrugged. “It is very hard for him.”

  “No one knows more about getting heads on beds than my brother. He ran a successful hotel business before he took over Snow Crystal. And of course, now he has Kayla and she has serious skills when it comes to spreading the word about something.”

  Their food arrived and she admired the presentation and then savored the flavors. “It’s good. You chose well. It is the first time anyone has chosen food for me since I was about four years old. My mother used to save hard and once a month we would go to a restaurant. She would let me choose what we ate. She wanted me to study the ingredients and decide what sounded good together.”

  “That sounds like a p
erfect mother-daughter trip.”

  “She thought it was important. A good way to spend money. If I am honest I was just as happy cooking with her at home.”

  “You said your earliest memory was cooking madeleines. That’s what you were doing in that photograph in Heron Lodge?”

  Emotion settled in her chest. “Yes. For me, my whole childhood is in that one picture.”

  “I’ve never tasted your madeleines. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten one.”

  “I don’t make them anymore. I haven’t because they remind me—” She shrugged. “There are other delicious things to make.”

  “Would you like to have your own restaurant?”

  She was grateful for the change of subject. “The Boathouse feels like mine. And living at Snow Crystal is my dream. I wouldn’t want anything else.”

  “My family is lucky to have you.”

  “I’m the lucky one.” She glanced up. Candlelight flickered across his features, softening hard lines and sending a shimmer of light over glossy dark hair.

  She decided that with this man as her date ambiance was irrelevant because no woman in her right mind would be focusing on anything but him. And it wasn’t just his looks that drew her, he was sharp and clever and talking to him gave her a rush she could never remember having with anyone else.

  She barely remembered what she and Pascal had talked about. It had been a relationship based around food. Their job. And he’d never shown any interest in what she wanted. Never asked her about her dreams. Never paid her the attention Sean did.

  She thought about the night they’d spent in the tent. The night he’d spent just listening while she’d spilled all her secrets.

  And he was listening now, his gaze warm and attentive. “You’ve done a good job with the Boathouse. It will give Snow Crystal a real boost.”

  “Without you it would not have been finished, but it all had a happy ending. And talking of happy endings, little Sam went home yesterday. He seemed none the worse for his scary experience and they’ve already rebooked for Christmas and next summer.” It unsettled her less to talk about work, to keep the conversation neutral, and perhaps he realized that because he did the same thing.