Always a McBride (17 page)

Her smile worried, Doris nodded. “He's like that watch that keeps on ticking when you hit it with a hammer. But he's not as young as he used to be,” she
added, shooting her new husband a frown. “And he's all wet. I've got to find him something to wear.”

She turned toward their suitcases, which they'd left on the floor, only to notice that they were sitting in a puddle of water. “Oh, no! Our clothes! We had everything packed except our night-clothes and what we were going to wear tomorrow when we leave.”

“Don't worry,” Phoebe assured her as she slipped her arm around her to give her a hug. “I'll throw everything into the dryer for you and find a way to dry your luggage. In the meantime, we've got to move you to another room, and you can help Lawrence change into his pajamas.”

“But I thought all the suites were taken,” Doris said, surprised.

“They are, but you can have my room,” she replied easily. “I can move into my grandmother's room. Just give me a few minutes to collect my things. Taylor, there's a flashlight in the utility closet under the stairs. While you're turning off the water, I'll help them make the move to my room.”

“No problem,” he replied. “Then I'll let the Winstons know about the pipe breaking and call a plumber for you.”

Relieved that he was there to help her, Phoebe hurried down the hall and breezed through her room, snatching up things she would need for the night and putting away items that would be in the Coopers' way. It took all of two minutes to change the sheets and hang fresh towels in the bathroom across the hall, then she rushed to her grandmother's room and dropped her things right inside the door. By the time she made it back to the older couple's suite, Doris had found a dry towel and draped it over her husband's shoulders. He
was standing on his own, but he was pale and obviously still shaken.

“Lawrence, are you sure you're all right?” she asked worriedly. “I just feel so badly about this.”

“You didn't have anything to do with that pipe breaking,” he pointed out reasonably, “so don't beat yourself up over it. I'll admit I'm a little stiff, but who's not at my age? I'm fine, dear. Quit your worrying. Doris'll rub a little Ben-Gay on my back and I'll be good as new in the morning.”

Phoebe doubted that he'd get over the fall quite that easily, but she couldn't very well force him to see a doctor if he didn't want to. “I hope so,” she said, “but if you start feeling worse, I want you to let me know immediately.”

“If he doesn't, I will,” Doris promised as Phoebe escorted them to her room. “Thank you so much, sweetie, for all your help. When I saw Lawrence fall, I was scared to death.”

Phoebe could well understand that—she'd felt the same way. Impulsively hugging them both, she said, “I don't want either one of you to worry about anything. I'll take care of your clothes and see that everything's dry. And the water'll be turned back on as soon as possible.”

Her mind already jumping to everything she had to do, she quickly wished them goodnight and hurried down the hall to the utility closet next to their suite. Taylor had turned off the water, but the broken pipe was only the beginning of the problem. Grabbing her grandmother's shop vacuum, which had been bought for just such an emergency, she went to work extracting the water from the bathroom and bedroom floors.

By the time the plumber had fixed the pipe, Phoebe
had vacuumed up all the water and Taylor had rolled up the sodden rag rug and carried it outside to dry, it was going on midnight. And Phoebe still had to wash and dry two suitcases of the Coopers' clothes. If she was lucky, she might be finished by two or three in the morning.

“Can I help?”

In the process of putting the first load of clothes in the washer, Phoebe looked up to find Taylor standing in the laundry-room doorway. Smiling tiredly, she said, “Not really. But thanks for all your help. If you hadn't been here, I don't know what I would have done.”

“You'd have done fine, but I'm glad I could help. You look beat. Are you sure you can't do those things in the morning? It's been a long night, and you have to be up early to start breakfast.”

“Don't tempt me,” she began, only to remember the plans they'd made for the evening. Her eyes widening, she said, “Oh, Taylor, I'm so sorry! I completely forgot about our plans.”

“It's okay,” he assured her, his grin rueful. “You had other things on your mind. There'll be another time.”

She hoped so, but time was slipping through their fingers. Soon, her grandmother would return and she would have to go home and decide what she was going to do with the rest of her life. How could she even contemplate a future without Taylor? Pain squeezed her heart at the thought.

“I wanted to be with you,” she said huskily, honestly, tears squeezing from her eyes. “I had this special nightgown—”

Eliminating the space between them with a single step, he stopped her simply by gently pressing his hand
to her mouth. “Stop,” he rasped. “Don't ruin the surprise. We'll get another chance.” And leaning down, he shushed her with a kiss.

In the days and weeks she'd known him, she'd lost track of the number of times he'd kissed her, but none of his kisses had ever been anything like the one he gave her at that moment. Hot and sweet and oh, so tender, it called out to her heart in a way no other kiss ever had and said things she was afraid to put into words. Tears pooling in her eyes as he lifted his head and slowly released her, all she wanted to do was melt into his arms. She knew if she did, however, she'd never finish cleaning the Coopers' clothes. Considering how close Lawrence had come to seriously hurting himself, that was the least she could do for him and Doris in compensation.

“I'll see you in the morning,” he said huskily. “Call me if you need me.”

She needed him more than he could possibly imagine, more than she was prepared to admit, but all she could manage to say was a quiet, “Good night.”

Later, she couldn't have said how long it took her to finish drying the Coopers' clothes. As the hours lengthened and the quiet of the night settled over the house, all she could think of was Taylor, upstairs in bed without her. She'd never been so lonely in her life.

 

Taylor knew the exact moment Phoebe came upstairs—it was going on three o'clock in the morning and there was no question that she was exhausted. Her steps were slow and heavy as she quietly made her way down the hall to her grandmother's room.

Considering the circumstances, no one would have blamed her if she'd slept late the next morning, but she
didn't shirk her duties so easily. Not long after dawn, the scent of fresh-baked bread drifted through the house, quietly waking him and the other guests one by one.

And though Taylor half expected to find her bleary-eyed and tired, he should have known better. Dressed in a soft white blouse and a feminine yellow skirt with a little frill at the hem, she looked rested and relaxed and incredibly beautiful. She greeted the Coopers and Winstons with an easy smile and pastries that would have done a gourmet chef proud. Just looking at her, no one would have guessed that she'd only had a few hours sleep.

She was amazing, Taylor thought, and was glad he wasn't the only one who appreciated her. Biting into a raspberry Danish, Doris closed her eyes and sighed dreamily. “Oh, that's so good! I don't know how you do it, Phoebe, dear. I could never have made this kind of breakfast after only three hours' sleep. You have to be exhausted!”

Grinning, Phoebe shrugged. “I'll admit my brain's not operating on all cylinders, but I'm okay. I can catch up on my sleep later. I wanted to make sure that all of you had a good breakfast before you left.”

“This is better than good,” Lawrence assured her, popping another Danish into his mouth. “It's fantastic! I bet I gained five pounds this weekend.”

“I'm glad you enjoyed it,” she replied with twinkling eyes.

“Oh, we more than enjoyed it,” Lawrence said. “We're going to tell all our friends about this place. We've had a wonderful time.”

“We have, too,” Heather Winston said shyly as she and her husband exchanged a loving smile. “My parents are celebrating their twenty-fifth anniversary in
September. I'm going to tell them to come here. They'll love it.”

“We'd love to have them,” Phoebe said, pleased. “I probably won't be here then—I've got to go back to my real job, unfortunately—but my grandmother will. I'm sure your parents will love her. She'll make them feel right at home.”

“The question is…how good a cook is she?” Lawrence asked with a teasing grin. “If she can't make Danish like you can, there's no point in coming.”

“She taught me everything I know about cooking and baking,” Phoebe assure him. “That's one of the reasons she asked me to take over for her while she was on vacation. I'm the only one she knows who can cook like she does.”

“You're also her granddaughter and she trusts you with everything she owns,” Doris said. “Not to mention the fact that she must love you dearly.”

Unable to argue with that logic, Phoebe flashed her dimples at her. “I'm her favorite granddaughter.”

“And her only one, I'll bet,” Taylor added teasingly.

“That has nothing to do with anything,” she tossed back, grinning. “I'd be her favorite if she had a dozen granddaughters. We're very much alike.”

“Then I'm sure she's a wonderful person,” Doris said with a smile. “She certainly has a fantastic house. I wish we could stay longer, but Lawrence has a dentist's appointment tomorrow, so we've got to get back.”

“We do, too,” Peter Winston said. “We've both got to go back to work tomorrow, and we don't want to get home late. It's a six-hour drive, so we'd better get going.”

That's just what Taylor had been waiting to hear.
Rising quickly to his feet, he said, “I'll help you carry your luggage out.”

 

Fifteen minutes later, the newlyweds said their goodbyes, traded hugs as if they were all family and drove away. Feeling as though she was walking on air, Phoebe couldn't stop smiling. In spite of the near disaster last night with the broken pipe, the weekend had turned out to be amazingly successful. And the Coopers and Winstons were going to tell all their friends and family what a wonderful time they'd had. There was no better advertising than word of mouth!

Thrilled, Phoebe couldn't wait to tell her grandmother. They were a hit! But the second Taylor followed her back inside the house and shut the front door, she threw herself into his arms. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Laughing, he pulled her close. “For what?”

“All your help, of course!”

“But you were the one who did all the work,” he pointed out. “And last night, you were incredible. All I did was call the plumber—”

“And turn the water off and move the furniture and help me get the rug up,” she finished for him. “I'm sure I would have panicked if you hadn't kept your head the way you had. I could just see the Coopers telling all their friends that the place had leaky old pipes and they'd be taking their lives in their hands if they went anywhere near it.”

“Are you kidding? That was never going to happen. They were crazy about you. And nobody blamed you for the pipe breaking. It could have happened to anyone.”

“Maybe,” she acknowledged. “But you still were a
big help all weekend. Except for the pipe breaking, everything was perfect…because every time I turned around, you were there to help me. Thank you.” Giving into impulse, she rose up on tiptoe and kissed him sweetly on the lips.

How long had he been waiting for just such a moment? Taylor had long since lost track. He just knew he had to have her…now! Burying his hands in her hair, he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her as though he was starving for the taste of her. Then, before she could do anything but gasp, he swept her up in his arms and started up the stairs.

“Taylor! What are you doing?”

“Carrying you up to bed,” he said promptly. “We're both a little late for the date we made last night, but better late than never.”

“But it's not even ten o'clock in the morning!” she protested.

“So? What has that got to do with anything?”

When he put it that way and gave her that dark, hungry look that always made her go weak at the knees, there was no way she could resist him. “Not a damn thing,” she replied, then laughed and threw her arms around his neck. “I like the way you think, Mr. Bishop.”

“So do I,” he retorted with a grin as he reached the second floor and turned down the hall to her room. “Now, Ms. Chandler, I believe you mentioned last night that you were going to wear something special for our date. How long will it take you to get ready?”

She didn't even have to think about it. “Two minutes.”

Setting her on her feet just outside her grandmother's
room, where her things still were, he grinned. “The clock's ticking.”

He would have given her more time if she'd asked for it, and if they'd been able to keep their date last night as planned, she certainly would have taken more than two minutes to get ready, but it seemed as if it had been ages since they'd had any time alone together, and even longer than that since he'd made love to her. Suddenly, all she wanted was to be with him, but she had promised to wear something special. “I'll meet you in your room,” she promised huskily, and shut the door in his face.

 

Alone in his room, Taylor didn't need to set the mood for himself—he'd dreamed of her, reached for her in the night more times than he could remember—but making love with her wasn't just about him. No woman had ever captivated him the way she had, and he needed to show her that. So he hurried down the hall to the closet where he knew supplies for the inn were stored, then rushed back to his room.