With an unsteady hand, Barb lifted a spoon to her mouth, slurped, then swallowed. “Nectar of the Gods. Don’t think I’ve had better.” She moaned in delight and took another spoonful. “Seems you’re a man with many hidden talents, Mr. McCabe.”
“More like wasted talents,” Tessa said, strolling into the kitchen.
She didn’t look at me. Guilt pummeled my conscience. Running out of the bedroom like the bed was on fire was a shite move. I’d fucked up again. Big time. She was pissed and had every right to be.
I’d explain myself and make my too-fast exit up to her later in one of the best ways I knew how. That was if she didn’t kick me out of the room for being a jackass and if she didn’t find out about my involvement with Shane. I wouldn’t put it past the lowlife to tell Tessa the real reason I was here.
The best and honest thing to do would be to fess up and tell her the truth before he did. But part of me wondered—hoped—that if she didn’t find out about my lies that maybe we could continue to explore the connection between us.
My head didn’t want to think about a relationship with her, but my heart did. We had something good that in time could be something great.
Avoiding eye contact with me, she went straight to the stove and ladled herself a bowl of soup.
“You know,” Tessa said, tearing off a chunk of bread. “I asked him to make the food for Violet’s wedding, but he refused.”
Brendan shrugged. “I’m too rusty. There’s a difference between some soup and a gourmet feast for famous people. And besides, I haven’t managed a kitchen or designed a menu in years.”
I set down my spoon and used more bread to mop up the soup at the bottom of my bowl. “Muscle memory would’ve kicked in.”
Tessa cast a quick glance my way, and I couldn’t decipher if she was annoyed or indifferent. If my shoulders didn’t still ache with the scratches from her nails, no way would I have thought the standoffish woman in front of me was the same one who’d begged me not to stop less than thirty minutes ago.
“So, Tessa.” Barb smacked her lips together. “What have you done to fix this mess?”
“Is there a mess? I wasn’t aware there was one.” Tessa clasped her fingers together and gave Barb a smile worthy of a saint.
The urge to come to her defense swelled inside me, but I bit my tongue. Tessa wouldn’t thank me for interfering.
“You think I don’t know what’s been going on around here?” The slur in Barb’s voice lessened by the second. Perhaps she wasn’t as drunk as she seemed.
I caught the startled look on Tessa’s face and was about to say something when Brendan spoke up.
“Don’t you worry, Barb dear, we have everything under control. The airport’ll be open by Friday, and doesn’t Violet have her own private plane to fly her here?”
Barb meandered over to the fire and stood by Brendan. Max scampered after her. “I suppose.” She bent down and picked the drooling dog up. “The rooms?”
“Keegan and I organized most of the rooms today,” Tessa said. “The kitchen will be well-stocked for the guests, and I think I’m right in saying the plumbing and heating in the entire castle are in working order. Right, Brendan?”
“They are,” he replied. “Gary and the lads sorted everything today.” He picked up a few pieces of peat and threw them onto the fire. “So, no problems there.”
Barb rocked back and forth on her icepick heels. “The food? Wasn’t the chef supposed to come here today?”
“The weather…” Tessa reached into a cupboard and secured four wine stems between her fingers. “I promise the food will be perfect. Why don’t we all have a glass of wine, sit by the fire, and go over the rest of the itinerary?”
I wanted to laugh. Trust Tessa to come up with a way to pacify Barb.
“I guess you could persuade me,” Barb said with a sniff.
“And,” Tessa continued, “we can FaceTime with Violet to keep her in the loop.”
“She’s at a Christmas charity ball in New York.” Barb nuzzled her nose into Max’s neck. “Violet’s lost interest. She just wants to turn up, put on her dress, say ‘I do,’ and wait for her picture to appear on every magazine cover in the world.”
“Be that as it may, we still have lots to do.” Tessa uncorked a vintage bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. “Let’s make this the best wedding the media’s ever seen.”
For hours, we sat around the fire and figured out what jobs needed to be finished before the guests arrived, and whose responsibility it was to finish those jobs. By the time Brendan and I wrestled a half bottle of Shiraz from Barb’s hand and lugged her to bed, it was after midnight.
All evening, Tessa had thrown daggers my way, but I deserved her anger. I had to show her how sorry I was. And I intended to do that by taking her to bed and kissing her from head to toe.
Chapter Thirteen
Tessa
I sat and warmed my hands by the blazing fire in our bedroom. The sound of Keegan’s whistles echoed from the bathroom. Had I ever survived on less than three hours of sleep before? I couldn’t remember.
Almost three days. That’s how long he’d been in my life. Seventy-two hours wasn’t long enough to fall in love with someone, but it was long enough to decide you wanted that someone to stay in your life for a whole lot longer.
Not that I would ever admit that to Keegan. What was the point? When the wedding
