maybe she’d have more to occupy her time than trying to run our lives-although none of us said that last part to her face.”
“Probably a good idea.” He shot Carol a speculative look. She wasn’t an unattractive woman. She’d been a widow for eleven years. Maybe she was lonely. Maybe that was the root of her overbearing nature. “Listen, if you think some male companionship would get her to concentrate on her own life instead of trying to interfere in ours, consider me on board the ‘find Carol a man’ bandwagon.”
“Great. But that doesn’t do us much good right now.” Jess’s stomach growled, so loud they both heard it. “I’m starving.”
“Me, too.” The scent of bacon wafted toward them from the Coldspring Room, and he lifted his nose to sniff the enticing aroma. Unfortunately the restaurant’s double doors were situated directly behind where Carol sat.
“Mom only has coffee this early,” Jess reported in an undertone. “She won’t eat until around eight o’clock. If we keep to the perimeter of the room, maybe we can make it into the restaurant without her seeing us. Then we can get a table in a back corner, out of sight.”
“Good plan. And maybe there’s another exit in the restaurant. We might be able to pull this off.”
“What about Kelley? What if she comes in for breakfast?”
“No chance. She never wakes up with the chickens. Marc?”
“Late sleeper. And if there’s room service available, he’s all over it.”
“Good.” He eyed her up and down, then said in a conspiratorial tone, “You ever had any sort of useful sneak- along-the-perimeter, military-type training?”
She considered for several seconds. “I was a Girl Scout in second grade. You?”
“Never a Girl Scout.”
“That’s a relief.”
“But I did go to sailing camp one summer.”
She looked toward the ceiling. “Great. If we happen across any yachts on our way to the restaurant I’ll defer to your superior knowledge. Clearly we’re well equipped.” A mischievous gleam entered her eyes and she surreptitiously rubbed her palm against the fly of his jeans. “Very well equipped.”
He sucked in a quick breath as his body came swiftly to attention. With a half laugh, half groan, he captured her wrist and dragged her errant hand up to rest on his chest. “Thanks. But I can’t walk in a stealthy manner with a raging hard-on.”
“They didn’t teach you that at sailing camp?”
“No. But they did teach us how to deal with saucy wenches.” He wrapped his arms around her and leaned down to nuzzle her warm neck. “Care to see my yardarm?”
“Are you trying to get me to say ‘aye, Captain’?”
“Absolutely. Is it working?”
“Aye, Captain.” She leaned back in the circle of his arms, lightly rubbed her pelvis against his and waggled her brows. “How’s your mainsail?”
“Hoisted. You know, on second thought, maybe we should forget about breakfast and just head back to the cabin-”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. “You’ll have a mutiny on your hands. You promised me pancakes dripping with syrup. And eggs. And sausages. And bacon. And coffee, and-”
He halted her words with a quick, hard kiss then shot her a mock frown. “Then quit tempting me with your non-breakfast items or we may never get a meal.” He took another quick look around the tree and noted Carol was still yapping into her phone. “Now or never. Ready?”
At Jess’s nod, he took her hand, and keeping their gazes downcast, they headed toward the restaurant, staying close to the wall. Eric heaved a mental sigh of relief when they passed the area where Carol might well have seen them in her peripheral vision. They still needed to walk quite close to her to enter the restaurant, but they’d be directly behind her. Just a few more yards and they’d be safe.
“I’ve booked the ballroom at the Ritz for the first Saturday in June,” he heard Carol saying as they moved behind her. Certain he’d misheard her words, he stopped. Jess halted as if she’d walked into a wall.
“Oh, they’ll probably fuss at first,” Carol said into the phone, “but what else could I do? Turns out the large ballroom at the country club was no longer available for the date they wanted in February, and the small ballroom simply won’t do. I figured as long as we had to change the date anyway, why not make it June? June is the perfect month for a wedding-so much better than February.”
Eric’s every muscle went rigid with disbelief and a red haze seemed to dull his vision. He glanced toward Jess. She’d gone perfectly still and was staring at the back of her mother’s head.
Carol was silent for several seconds, presumably listening to her sister. Then she said, “Putting off the wedding until June also gives me longer to make certain everything’s perfect, and to hopefully get Jess more interested in planning all the little details. This should be a fun time for her yet it seems all she does is mope.” After another few seconds of silence, Carol nodded and said, “Maybe she isn’t sure. After all, their engagement happened so quickly- after only six months. I’m hoping the extra four months will give her time to know her mind. Maybe she’ll reconsider her unfortunate choice. God knows she could have any man she wanted.”
The surge of anger that roared through Eric seemed to implode inside his head. He couldn’t recall ever being so furious in his entire life. In the space of a single heartbeat, his life flashed before his eyes-not his past, but his future. A future with his life being manipulated, being the victim of behind-the-scenes machinations and scheming, his express desires being ignored and circumvented. It wasn’t a pretty picture. In fact, it was a really ugly picture. And the realization it left in its wake hit him so hard he nearly staggered.
He didn’t want it. None of it. He wasn’t going to let it happen.
And he knew what he had to do.
As if from far away he heard Jess gasp then say, “Mom?” in a voice that reflected both confusion and outrage. Saw Carol start then turn around. Her eyes widened at the sight of them and a flush suffused her face.
She mumbled, “I’ll call you back,” into the phone then flipped it closed. Then she stood and faced them.
“Good morning,” she said, offering a tentative smile, her gaze bouncing between them, clearly wondering what, if anything, they’d overheard. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here so early. You usually sleep in, Jess.”
“You and I need to talk, Mom.” Jess turned to him. “I’m sorry to cancel our breakfast, but would you give me some time alone with my mother?”
Eric looked at Jess, but felt as if he were looking through her. He had to swallow twice to locate his voice. “Sure.” He barely pushed the word through his tight throat. With a quick nod, he turned on his heel and strode away, not sure where he was going, but it didn’t matter. He just wanted to get away. Before he said something he’d regret. Good thing he was too furious to speak.
Sure, he’d give Jess time, all the time she wanted. Didn’t matter how long it took or even what she said. Because he was done. Finished. Couldn’t take any more. Carol’s words had snapped something inside him, something that he knew couldn’t be fixed. It was time he faced the truth-and the truth was that what he’d overheard was the final nail in the coffin. This weekend with Jess was supposed to be about them. Just them. Getting things back to normal. Instead it had turned into the very thing they’d been trying to escape-the viper’s nest their engagement had turned into.
He grabbed his coat from the rack, slammed his arms into the sleeves, then shoved open the door to walk outside, barely registering the cold and the snow that continued to lightly fall.
All she does is mope… It was time to be brutally honest with himself. Jess wasn’t happy. She hadn’t been for months. And neither was he. Not really. He just hadn’t wanted to admit it, not even to himself. But now, there was no way he could deny it any longer.
Perhaps she’ll reconsider her unfortunate choice. God knows she could have any man she wanted. Carol’s words echoed through his mind, and his hands clenched into tight fists. Yes, she could have any man she wanted. He’d known that from the first minute he’d laid eyes on her. Just as he’d known he wanted to be that man.
June is the perfect month for a wedding. Maybe it was. But that didn’t matter anymore, either. There wasn’t going to be a damn wedding in June. And there wasn’t going to be a damn wedding in February.
He was done.
When he arrived at the cabin a few minutes later, he went directly to the phone and punched the number for the front desk.
After Roland Krause identified himself with a cheery greeting, Eric asked without preamble, “Are the roads still
