A Week Till the Wedding (15 page)

The house was so quiet...so lonely. Even the squirrels had gone silent, or else had departed completely, leaving Daisy entirely on her own. She could feel and hear her own heartbeat, could hear the ticking of the clock over the mantel. It had never seemed so loud before, as if it were counting off the seconds of her life.

Or counting down the seconds of the little bit of time Jacob would be close by.

It took every ounce of determination Daisy possessed not to run outside and chase Jacob down the street. She’d smiled as she’d left him sitting in the car, but as she stood alone in the only home she’d ever known, a few annoying tears slipped down her cheeks.

* * *

“I called the house and told Lurlene that I wouldn’t be home.”

“Yes, she passed the word on. But she didn’t say where you were, and I was worried sick!”

Jacob felt like a fifteen-year-old who’d been caught sneaking out. He was thirty-one, an adult who shouldn’t have to explain to his mother where he’d spent the night. All things considered, it shouldn’t be much of a mystery.

Lurlene wheeled Grandma Eunice into the foyer. It was likely not a coincidence that she appeared when she did. She’d heard his car, and come out to say hello. Jacob looked at his grandmother and, for the first time, saw her as a young girl. He tried not to picture the kind of young woman who would steal a good friend’s boyfriend, but instead attempted to see the girl who’d fished and skipped school and babied puppies.

“Where’s Daisy?” Eunice asked, looking past Jacob to the front door.

“She won’t be here tonight. It was a long day and she wanted to get to bed early.”

Eunice smiled, briefly. “Well, perhaps tomorrow. She still hasn’t tried on her wedding dress!”

Jacob shook his head. “Sorry, it won’t be tomorrow.”

“Why not?”

“Tomorrow night we have a date.” He winked at Eunice, who seemed very pleased by his announcement.

“Well, then, you two have a good time. Another day this week, then.”

Jacob thought about Friday, and wondered if he should tell Grandma Eunice that an old friend would be joining them for dinner. He hesitated. He was already rethinking his impulsive invitation. If Grandma Eunice reacted to Miss Vivian the way Miss Vivian had reacted to her, then the night could turn ugly.

But he didn’t think that would be the case. They’d been good friends, once, and now they were both alone. Alone in different ways, but still, surely an old friend would be welcomed. He said, “Tonight after dinner, why don’t you get out some old photos and tell me about Grandpa.”

She smiled. Like Vivian, talking about the old days was not a chore. And though her memory of recent events was fuzzy, at times, she remembered those old days as if they’d been just yesterday.

“Of course. It’s such a shame that your Grandpa Charles passed before you were old enough to remember him.”

“Yes, it is.”

“He was very handsome in his day, you know. You look very much like him.”

So he had been told.

Grandma Eunice seemed to be in a very good mood, bright and with it...until Ben and Maddy arrived, and she mistook her youngest grandson’s wife for the new maid.

They didn’t have a new maid.

* * *

The Tuesday workday passed quickly, customers coming and going while Daisy’s mind was on the coming evening. It was a minor miracle that she didn’t butcher a single head of hair while she was thinking of the night ahead. What should she wear? Where would Jacob take her? How would the evening end?

She knew how the evening
should
end. She’d leave him sitting in his car while she ran for the safety of her house. Alone. Again. After making it very clear that they were through. But oh, he made it so difficult to do what she
should
do!

Eventually she would have to end it. Truly end it this time, not just drift apart. She needed to look Jacob in the eye and tell him that they were done, that it had been nice while it lasted, that a part of her would always love him but they didn’t have a chance of making it work so why put themselves through the misery of trying?

Daisy didn’t want to think about that reality tonight. She wanted to let go of her worries and enjoy the evening for what it was. Old friends who made great lovers enjoying one another’s company. Jacob would leave, and it would end, but maybe she should enjoy his company while he was close by, and hers to enjoy.

On her way home—it was such a pretty day she was walking again, in spite of the heat—Daisy pulled her cell phone from her purse and dialed the Tasker House. Jim Tasker answered, and he fetched his son without asking a single question or trying to engage in polite conversation.

“What should I wear?” Daisy asked after Jacob said hello.

“Do you have a little black dress?” She loved the timbre of his voice. Even over the phone it was sexy and powerful, and oh, she was in much too deep when the sound of his voice made her squirm.

“I do, not that there’s any place in Bell Grove to wear it.”

“I made reservations at a Brazilian restaurant in Atlanta. Wear the little black dress. I’ll pick you up in two hours.”

She didn’t get to Atlanta often. A couple times a year to shop, maybe, and she had been to a few concerts and ball games in the past few years. But for the most part she lived her life right here in Bell Grove. She’d never had a date take her all the way to Atlanta to eat.

Okay, black dress. But which shoes?

The critter man’s truck was parked in front of her house. Shoot! She wanted to have the entire two hours to get ready. What was she going to do with her hair? Which bra? There were three possibilities when it came to shoes. Did she want to go for wowza or comfort or something in between?

There were also three bra possibilities. Also wowza, comfortable or something in between. Decisions, decisions.

A neighbor who had a key to the house had let Sammy in, and he’d collected the squirrel traps from her attic. They had served their purpose. He promised to release the squirrel-invaders on the other side of the county. It was unlikely, he said, that they would find their way back to this part of town and if they did, well, he’d already taken care of the access to her attic.

He was disappointed that the varmints were common tree squirrels.

Daisy started to suggest that squirrel stew might be an option, but then she saw the cute critters in their cages. Even if they were rats with bushy tails and good PR, and even if she would never have kind and fuzzy feelings for the critters the way Sammy did, they were, well, not stew worthy. Catch and release was fine by her.

Sammy didn’t stay long, thank goodness. She wrote him a check, asked about his family, and when he asked she told him where she’d bought her curtains. Okay, so maybe he was a little odd, but he
had
gotten the critters out of her attic. He even seemed to genuinely like the rodents.

Not every man could be like Jacob. Handsome, sexy, driven...and not content to live in a small town where everyone knew everyone else and the pace of life was slow and easy.

That thought put a damper on her mood as she got ready, but by the time she was done she was feeling bright again. She wouldn’t have Jacob for long, so she might as well enjoy him while she could.

The wowza shoes won.

As did the wowza bra. Just in case.

* * *

She was gorgeous. She took his breath away.

“Tonight I like the suit,” Daisy said as she stepped onto the porch. “It’s dashing, and appropriate.”

“I don’t look like the tax man showing up at your door to harass you?”

She shook her head, and her long, soft, pale hair swayed. “Not at all.”

What he wanted to do was take her back inside and make love to her again. Surely she had something to eat in her kitchen, even if she didn’t cook any more often than she had to. He’d be happy with a bowl of cereal.

She locked the door, and he took her arm. He walked her down the sidewalk to the driveway, where he’d parked behind her car instead of on the street, as he’d been doing since returning to Bell Grove.

Jacob placed himself between Daisy and the car door, which he had every intention of opening for her.

But not yet. He placed a hand at the base of her spine, pulled her close and kissed her. Not a searing kiss, not a prelude to sex, but a tattoo. A brand.
You’re mine,
the kiss said.
Deny it all you want, but you’re mine
.

With his hand still on the small of her back, he felt her tremble. Her lips opened to him, she leaned in closer. He released her, because if he didn’t they’d never make it into the car.

Daisy blinked fast a couple of times, and when he opened the passenger door for her she slid into her seat carefully, as if her legs were unsteady. She didn’t say a word until he took his seat and started the engine.

“Do you think anyone saw that kiss?” she asked.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Jacob said as he backed into the street and pointed the car toward Atlanta.

“That’s because you don’t live here. I do.” She looked at him; he kept his eyes on the road but he could see her out of the corner of one eye. Damned if he didn’t also feel her eyes on him. “I thought I heard a car go by, but I’m not sure.”

If the kiss affected her the way it did him, what she’d heard might’ve been the roar of an engine...or the rush of her blood and her heartbeat, spinning out of control. “I don’t recall,” he said calmly. “And let’s be honest. My car was parked in front of your house all night a couple of days ago. The nosy neighbors are probably already talking.”

She sighed. “I know. But if anyone saw that kiss there will be no doubt about what’s going on.”

Going on. As in continuing? “Do you care?”

She sighed, fiddled with the small black purse in her lap. “No, not really. I’m a grown-up. I suppose it’s perfectly natural for me to have a man stay over on occasion.”

I suppose
. Which meant it was unusual for her to have overnight guests. He couldn’t express how relieved he was to hear that. Not that he could tell her as much. “Your decision that it was a onetime deal...”

“Still stands,” she said quickly. And then she sighed. “I suppose. Though you will be gone soon, and it’s not like either of us is involved, and...dammit, Jacob, why did you kiss me like that?”

* * *

Dinner had been great, well worth the drive into Atlanta. Jacob’s company had been even better. He’d talked about his job and all the traveling he’d done; she told him about running the shop and what was going on with her sisters. Jacob had been her friend before he’d been her lover, and even though she didn’t want to, she still liked him. You could love someone and not like them much, and you could certainly like someone without loving them. Jacob was the complete package, for her. A friend. A lover.

And in a couple of weeks he’d be back in California, and she’d still be here. Alone. She’d thought if she could finish things with him she’d be able to move on, meet another man...build a life.

But she was finding herself falling in deeper and deeper, more in love than ever. She couldn’t even imagine building a life with another man. And wasn’t that a shame?

Having Jacob in her life, however temporarily, was like having a gallon of death-by-chocolate ice cream in the freezer, knowing it was the last gallon of death-by-chocolate ice cream she’d ever have. Maybe one day she’d settle for vanilla, when she really wanted ice cream and that was the only flavor available, but when? Not until she no longer craved death-by-chocolate. Not until she could no longer remember how it tasted, how it felt on her tongue. And what if she settled for vanilla and it turned out to be butter pecan inside a vanilla carton? She hated butter pecan.

Why should she limit herself to one bowl of death-by-chocolate ice cream? Why should she have one bowl and then dump the rest? What a waste. Shouldn’t she finish up the entire gallon before it was gone for good?

It was late when Jacob walked her to the porch. A few lights were on in the neighborhood, but no cars—or people—were on the street. He parked in the driveway behind her car again. The streetlamp lit their way to the porch, where her front porch light cast a yellowish light over them. At the door she opened her purse, removed the house key...and then turned to Jacob and lifted her face for a kiss. He obliged, and this kiss was as deep and moving as the one that had started the evening. But it was also more. It was a beginning.

She pulled her mouth from his, grabbed his tie and hung on. “You make me break every promise to myself,” she whispered. “I promise myself that I won’t like you, I promise myself that I won’t care, I tell myself that one night with you will be enough, that it’s all I need. And then...and then you ruin it all. Worse than that, you make me indecisive. I’m not indecisive, Jacob, I don’t make an important decision and then change my mind because of a kiss.”

“Are you inviting me in?” Jacob rested his forehead against hers.

“I am.”

“If I come inside I won’t leave until morning.”

“You better not,” she said. “And I do hope you’re more prepared than you were last time.”

“I’m ever the optimist, so yes.”

Daisy spun around, unlocked the door and pulled Jacob inside by the tie. “You and your suits,” she said as she closed and locked the door behind him, leaning against it and looking him up and down. “Take it off.”

* * *

Daisy had crawled out of bed to put a CD in her portable player. The music was something new, a soft sound with a slow, relaxing beat. When she tried to crawl back between the covers Jacob intercepted her, took her hand, and drew her away from the bed and more closely into his embrace. They danced away from the bed and across her bedroom floor. Naked.

He wasn’t a great dancer, and neither was she. They didn’t have a lot of space to maneuver in the small bedroom. But they could move together—man, could they move together—skin to skin, swaying to the music in the half light that cut in from the bathroom across the hall. That light fell across her shoulder as he spun her around, it lit her face, and he wondered how the hell he’d survived the past seven years without her.