Saved by the Bride (Wedding Fever (Carina))

by Lowe, Fiona

  Sean’s brows rose but he spoke mildly. “That would mean you giving up your opportunity to run AKP and I can’t imagine that’s what you want. For now I’ll stick to fishing and car watching.”

  Logan ran up clutching a small cooler. “I’ve got the bait and drinks, Dad.”

  “Good man.” Sean slung his arm around his younger son’s shoulder and spoke to Finn. “If you change your mind on the fishing, Logan and I will be over by the point.”

  Yep, not gonna happen. Finn watched them walk along the path toward their destination. At least Logan was benefitting from Sean’s midlife crisis or whatever the hell it was and he was getting to spend time with his father. The weight of the heavy key in Finn’s hand reminded him of where he was headed and he spun on his heels. He’d taken two steps when the sound of Sean’s mellow chuckle at something Logan must have said hit him like a short, sharp slap.

  His breath caught. What the hell? He hated the feeling that filled him, taking him back to when he was twelve. Damn it, but he was an adult and he’d got over not going fishing with Sean years ago. Yet, despite knowing that, the stinging feeling lingered and he wanted it gone.

  The need to move, to do something, propelled him forward and he ran hard and fast down to the dock. He untied the rope, jumped into the boat and, gunning the engine, he roared out of the small cove, daring the wind to tear every single feeling out of him.

  Chapter Nine

  According to John Ackerman, who Finn had spoken to when he’d done the marketing, Finn had missed Annika by five minutes.

  “She bought some crackers and tuna fish and said she was going to the post office.”

  Karen at the post office told him, “She used the yellow pages and asked me to hold her mail. I don’t know where she went after that.”

  Nicole was back in her salon cutting hair and had given him a warm smile when he’d asked her about Annika. “She’s got a list a mile long so she could be anywhere in town. The meeting went fantastic, and Annika says we need a website so she’s looking into that. Thank you so much for the computers and the wireless modem.”

  “You’re welcome.” And he meant it. The few times he’d met Nicole, he’d sensed a pervading sadness but it seemed to be tempered some when she spoke about weddings. If a few computers helped her, then he was more than happy to assist. He wondered at the fact Annika was taking on a website when she’d insisted Whitetail needed more than weddings, but then again, she rarely said no to anything. For some reason that bothered him far more than it should.

  After making an appointment to get his hair trimmed, he crossed the street to the drugstore. “Have you seen Annika Jacobson, my P.A.?”

  Randy Nuertsin, the pharmacist, said she hadn’t been in. That slugged Finn with a burst of surprise. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she’d been in as much agony as him last night when they’d stopped on the cusp of sex, so he’d been absolutely certain she’d have done the responsible adult thing and gotten prepared. Apparently not. So he did it for her along with a huge array of toiletries—most of which he didn’t need—in an attempt to camouflage the point of the purchase.

  The young sales associate flicked her gum as she scanned the condoms. “Those ones are good. I like the cherry flavor.”

  Finn tried not to choke as he handed over a fifty, grabbed the bag and made a hasty exit. No one ever commented when he bought condoms in Chicago, not that he’d bought many recently but still, the last thing he needed was the town talking about what he and Annika were or weren’t doing. That was something he planned to keep strictly between the two of them.

  He scanned the street looking for the distinctive red truck but couldn’t see it or Annika anywhere. How hard could it be to find someone in a town that pretty much had all its businesses on the Main Street? He raised his sunglasses and noticed Rory ticketing a motor home with out-of-state plates that had been parked across the policeman’s driveway, blocking him in.

  “Hey, Finn. Good to see you. I was pleased to hear you gave Anni a job. She needs it more than she’ll ever admit.”

  Finn shook the police officer’s hand, getting a strong parental vibe. “Are you related to Annika?”

  He shook his head. “No, but her father and I are good friends. Ever since she moved back to town, she’s been busy looking out for everyone.”

  “And as her father isn’t here, you’re looking out for her.”

  “Got it in one.”

  Finn leaned against the side of the motor home and tried to sound casual. “Any reason she didn’t move with her family?”

  Rory ripped the ticket off the pad. “She left first when she went to college and her folks moved after that. No one ever expected Anni would choose to live in Whitetail again after living in Chicago for eight years and making a name for herself there, but here she is.” Rory stuck the ticket under the wiper with a practiced flick before giving Finn a look that said, “I’ve talked enough.”

  It effectively cut off the question, “Why did she move back?” A question that teetered on Finn’s lips. Making a name for herself? He mentally added “Type Annika Jacobsen into a search engine” to his to-do list.

  “If you’re looking for Annika, she left ten minutes ago and said she was heading back to Kylemore. You have a good day, Finn, and remember the speed limit on the lake.” Rory moved off down the street as he spoke into his radio making a request for the motor home to be towed.

  Damn it. He’d talked to half the town and missed the one person he’d come to see. He checked his watch. Even keeping well within the waterway’s speed limit, he was certain he’d make it back to Kylemore before Annika. He planned to be waiting in the circular driveway when she pulled in and then they were going straight to the cabin.

  His phone beeped and Bridey’s name came up on a message. Mom wants some Swedish pastries. Buy, deliver and stay for coffee.

  His plans took a hit as he realized it was midafternoon already, and he was on mother duty.

  * * *

  When Annika arrived back at the office, relief flowed through her that Finn was nowhere to be seen. “Put off today what you don’t want to do tomorrow” hadn’t always been her mantra but in many ways it had become one when she’d moved back to Whitetail. She dropped her purse onto the desk and grabbed a can of soda from the bar fridge, realizing she wasn’t only thirsty but hungry and she’d left the crackers and tin of tuna fish in the truck. She’d been so busy in town she’d missed lunch and, having stayed away longer than she’d anticipated and not able to text Finn, she’d rushed straight back. She really needed to pay her cell phone bill but the bulk of her first paycheck was earmarked for back rent to Ellery and the rest she’d just spent on bedding. The phone would have to wait.

  As she put the soda can down on a coaster, she couldn’t miss seeing the bright pink sticky note that was stuck smack-bang in the center of her computer screen. Finn’s bold, black and unwavering script scrawled across the fluorescent square of paper with the words Am at guest cottage. Come immediately. Bring file.

  File? She had no clue what he meant. So far in her job for Finn she’d done some word processing, pumped numbers into a spreadsheet, filed, set up meetings and booked conference calls. The rest of the time had been spent making calls and writing letters to other companies about the warehouses. Did Finn mean that? Or was it something to do with his mother? She checked the documents on the computer and r
ifled through the filing cabinet, but nothing was marked Kathleen Callahan so she picked up the only two file jackets in her inbox and headed back down the stairs.

  Turning at the bottom, she walked toward the side door, which was her entrance and exit so she avoided the main part of the house and the family. As she opened the mudroom door, she stopped so abruptly that she banged her shoulder on the door. “Oh, I’m sorry, Dana. I didn’t know you were here.”

  On the few occasions she’d met the current Mrs. Callahan, Dana had always looked as if she’d stepped straight out of the pages of a glossy lifestyle magazine, complete with an air of aloofness that the very rich often wore. Now she stood in rubber boots with a sunhat on her head and a pair of gardening gloves in her hand.

  She smiled at Annika. “Logan and Sean are fishing and as the idea of touching bait makes me squeamish, I’ve been in the garden instead. I’m encouraging my asters by fertilizing and talking to them so they’ll put on an amazing late-summer show.”

  Annika rubbed her bruised shoulder. “Is that enough?”

  “I threw in some guilt for good measure by mentioning how stunning the day lilies currently are with their myriad of colors.” She hung up her hat and smoothed down her hair. “Are you interested in gardening?”

  “Oh, I love gardens but I’m not a gardener. I’m more of a potentilla girl. They’re so hardy they flower almost no matter how much you ignore them.”

  Dana laughed and for the first time Annika saw the warm and friendly woman she’d previously missed. Sean’s wife nodded at the files in Annika’s hand. “Finn’s visiting his mother. Are you heading over to the cottage?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Would you mind taking over this fruit basket and these towels? Esther’s tied up preparing dinner and I’d deliver them except Kathleen’s likely to throw everything back at me and I don’t think we should waste perfectly good fruit.” This time her smile was wry.

  “Sure, I’d be happy to take it.”

  “You’re probably wondering what you’ve walked into with this family.”

  “Not at all, I—”

  “Just don’t judge us too harshly.” Dana’s usually soft voice sounded strained. “I had stars in my eyes when I married Sean, thinking we’d be one big happy family and a baby would be the glue to bring us closer. But Finn was twenty-one and Bridey was seventeen, and it took me four years to conceive. My biggest regret is for Logan.”

  She pushed the basket abruptly into Annika’s hand and the detached air zoomed back in, as if she regretted her disclosure. “Thank you for doing this and enjoy the rest of your day.” She brushed past Annika and walked into the house, closing the door behind her with a firm click that said, “Don’t follow me.”

  Not that Annika planned on following but that didn’t stop a ripple of sadness running through her that Dana had shut her out. My biggest regret is for Logan. She got exactly what Dana meant—in fact it was exactly what she’d been talking to Finn about yesterday. As she made her way across the lawn—balancing the towels, fruit basket and the files—she decided that getting Finn more involved with his younger brother and family was something she could do to help. After all, helping out was what she did best.

  * * *

  It wasn’t that Finn didn’t love his mother; he did, very much. From the moment his father had left her, he’d stepped up as protector and now as an adult, he enjoyed her company. He regularly met her for afternoon tea at Palmer House, and occasionally accompanied her to exhibition openings, but Kathleen in pain and back at Kylemore was acerbic and out of sorts.

  The coffee he’d made was too hot and too bitter, the pastries he’d bought not the ones she’d wanted, and his attempt at arranging her flowers under her precise instructions—“I said move the delphinium to the back, that’s a stock”—had him biting his tongue. It had been a very long and patience-testing forty minutes. Where the hell was Annika?

  He heard a thump against the glass, followed by an “oof” and his mother said, “Good heavens, it’s a walking fruit basket. Finn, go and help.”

  Pleased to be able to walk away from the floral arrangement he’d seriously mangled, he stood up. Although he could only see a pair of legs because the rest of the owner was hidden by a massive fruit basket and a tower of toppling towels, he instantly knew it was Annika. He gave a silent chuckle. She was deliciously clumsy and he was thrilled to see her. He’d been waiting a long time for her to arrive—not just to give him a valid excuse to end his visit before he said something to his mother he’d regret, but so they could take up where they’d left off last night. Only this time it wouldn’t be on a rocky beach, and it wouldn’t be stopped so abruptly that his balls would ache for hours. No, this time they’d be in his bed with enough contraception to safely keep them there until they chose to leave.

  He caught the towels as they started to tumble off their precarious position on the basket and whispered softly in her ear, “Hey, Legs. What took you so long?”

  Her body trembled but she didn’t reply. Instead she peered around the other side of the huge basket before turning sharply, which sent a melon rolling across the floor before she reached the safety of the table. “Shall I put it here, Mrs. Callahan?”

  “Yes, thank you. Can you pass me the card?” Kathleen looked animated for the first time since he’d arrived.

  Finn watched mesmerized as Annika’s fingers carefully eased the card off the cellophane by peeling back the tape, and the memory of those fingers touching him last night was so strong he could feel them kneading his back. He wanted them touching him again. Now.

  “Mom, this is Annika Jacobson, my P.A.” He wafted his arm out in a gesture of introduction but his eyes stayed fixed on Annika. “Did you bring those files I requested?”

  Annika pushed the files across the table before handing Kathleen the card. “How’s your ankle feeling, Mrs. Callahan?”

  Kathleen glanced quickly at the card and smiled before tucking it under her thigh. “It aches a lot. Please, call me Kathleen.”

  Annika nodded with sympathy clear on her face. “Ice packs for twenty-four hours and then applying heat really helps. So does keeping it up as much as possible.”

  “You sound just like my doctor.”

  “I’ve had a bit of experience with ankles, wrists, knees.” Her hands fluttered out in front of her. “Basically, I’ve pretty much sprained every part of me.”

  Interest flared on his mother’s face. “Do you do stunt work?”

  Annika burst into laughter and Finn cut across the conversation, seizing the moment. “Sorry, Mom, but we have to go as I’ve got a conference call booked for Mexico.” He picked up the folders he knew contained Annika’s “Find a business for Whitetail” documents.

  “Thanks for coming, darling.” Kathleen gave him a wave and immediately swung her gaze back to Annika. “Can you stay, Annika?”

  No. No way was this happening.

  But Annika had sat down without giving Finn a glance. “Oh, Kathleen, are those pastries from Lundstrom’s?” She immediately countered with, “I’m sorry, that was rude. It’s just I missed lunch.”

  “Annika, we have to leave, now.” His words sounded unreasonably curt, courtesy of a hell of a lot of frustration. He was the one that was supposed to be getting all cozy and chatty with Annika. Not that he planned to do much talking or at least not the type of conversation his mother was about to have.

  Kathleen frowned. “You sa
id you had a conference call so you go do that and leave Annika here.”

  “She hasn’t eaten and there’s food in the office.”

  “Finn, I have a kitchen full of food here.”

  He knew he was clutching at straws. “I need her to type up the notes on the call.”

  A pair of cornflower-blue eyes with amusement dancing in their depths, hit him with a look that said, “I know your play and I’ve got one to match it.” “Record the call and I’ll transcribe it in full tonight. It will be more accurate that way, especially as I’m a bit light-headed from lack of food. I’d hate to miss something important.”

  Kathleen passed the platter of pastries. “Good idea. It’s all settled then.”

  “Finn, I booked the call for the office phone, and it’s almost four.” Annika raised a cup of coffee in a salute to the fictitious conference call.

  Finn swallowed a string of oaths, not quite able to believe he’d let himself be out-maneuvered. He took in a deep breath and regrouped. Giving Annika a lazy smile—the one he knew made her back into doorways and bump into kitchen counters—he said, “I don’t know what I’d do without your efficiency, Legs.”

  Her pupils widened at the use of her nickname.

  If Annika wanted to play games then it was officially “game on.” Only next time he’d reach the end zone.

  * * *

  Annika blew into the air mattress for the umpteenth time and silver spots sparkled in her vision, making her feel extremely dizzy. Jamming the plug into the half-inflated bed, she lamented that she hadn’t spent the extra money on a pump.

  After a very pleasant hour with Finn’s mom, who was a fascinating woman with eclectic tastes and interests, and hearing all about her current passion, which was supporting a community outreach program of the Art Institute, Annika had used the kayak to get herself over to the island. The Callahans had every conceivable water toy from human-powered row boats and stand-up paddleboards, to fuel powered Jet Skis and motorboats. Without a moment’s hesitation, she’d taken advantage of their wide collection of vessels to stay one step ahead of Finn. She didn’t feel one shred of guilt at not having gone back to the office after her visit with Kathleen because she knew there was no post-conference call transcript to be typed. It had all been a ruse to get her naked.