Falling for You (32 page)

Part One: Seven years later

 “I can’t believe you’re so nervous.”

The amusement in Chance’s voice had Rory gaping at his reflection in the vanity mirror. “Are you serious? You know how I am about being the center of attention.”

“I thought you got over that years ago,” he said, pulling a short sleeved shirt from the closet. “You’ve been active in so many groups, like the Historical Society and the Galveston Innkeepers’ Association. You even worked with Paige on that one Buccaneer’s Ball—”

“A mistake I will never repeat,” Rory insisted, pumping a mascara wand in and out of its tube with quick agitation.

He chuckled as he tucked in the shirt, no doubt remembering all the times she’d threatened to strangle Paige’s mother. “Most of all, you’ve been one of the driving forces behind bringing Galveston back to life for two solid years. That’s involved a lot of being the center of attention.”

“Talking about Galveston and talking about me are not the same thing,” she pointed out. Doing what she could to help Galveston recover from Hurricane Ike came easily. How could she not spring into action after such devastation? The Sea Wall had done its job to withstand the brunt of the storm on the Gulf side of the island, but the surge had slammed into the bay, wreaking havoc throughout the historic district. When the water subsided, Galveston had looked like a Victorian matriarch, trying to survive a slap to the face with her dignity intact. Rory was still doing everything in her power to help the grand dame recover her full glory. “It’s just that nothing I’ve done involved standing before a news camera to be on a nation-wide morning show.”

“True.” Coming up behind the chair where she sat, he rested his hands on her shoulders. He looked as calm and confident as ever with his neatly trimmed hair and buttoned-down shirt tucked into khaki slacks. He may have left his suit-and-tie days behind, but his Chancellor breeding would always shine through.

“I wish Adrian were here,” she said, contemplating various shades of lip gloss and feeling lost. “He has tons of experience in front of TV cameras.”

“Considering he’s sailing somewhere in the middle of the Caribbean right now, might be a bit tough for him to swoop in and save the day.”

“I know, which is why I asked Alli to do it, but she refused. Can you believe that? Something about not wanting to look fat on camera.”

“Aurora...” He squeezed her shoulders as if wanting to shake her. “She’s eight months pregnant.”

“They could shoot her from the shoulders up.” When the squeeze turned into a massage, her whole body sagged in gratitude. “Oh, that feels good.”

“They don’t want Adrian or Allison,” he told her.

“Why not?”

“Because your brother and sister are not the ones who launched a whole Website and blog to help bring tourists back to Galveston.” He regarded her reflection with a look of wonder. “Do you have any idea how proud I am of you? When we started out, you didn’t even own a computer. Now look at what you’ve done.”

“Thanks to you.” She laid one of her hands over his. “I never could have accomplished so much if you hadn’t taught me how to use a computer.”

“Not hardly.” He scoffed. “I may have given you your first lap top, but I didn’t teach you how to do any of that graphic stuff. And I’m sure not the one who made you so business savvy about the Internet.”

“Now, there’s something I didn’t think I’d ever hear.” She laughed as she swiped on pink lip gloss. “A banker calling me business savvy.”

“Former banker.” He kissed the top of her head. “You want to know the main thing I admire about you?”

“What?”

“The fact that you never let anything, not even your own fear hold you back. So, you might be nervous, but you’re going to do great.”

“Chance, I don’t know.” Prickles of fear moved through her chest like an electrical current, the first warning sign of a panic attack. “I really, truly don’t think I can do this.”

“You’ll find a way,” he said easily.

She stared at him in disbelief. Had he forgotten how her panic attacks nearly made her pass out? Maybe so, since she hadn’t had one in years.

“Now, stop worrying about your makeup. You look fine,” he said. Moving to her side, he took both her hands and drew her to her feet. “Better than fine.” Holding her arms out to the side, he took in the light blue dress that fell to just above her knees. “You look amazing.”

“You’re sure? About the makeup, I mean. You know I normally wear only a little, but the production people insisted I do it really bold.”

He cocked his head, studying her with a teasing gleam in his eyes. “I suppose you’ll do.”

“Okay, then.” She took a deep breath, then released it in a rush trying to force the anxiety out. She didn’t have time to panic.

Glancing at the small, high window of the master bedroom, she saw the morning sunlight pressing around the draperies. Since she and Chance had moved into the basement apartment beneath the inn six years ago, after Allison and Adrian had moved out, she could hear voices out on the front lawn. People had started arriving before dawn to get everything ready for her live interview on
Good Day USA
. Not just the news crew, but many of the business owners who had benefited from her Website. She’d had high hopes when she’d started, but she’d never dreamed it would reap such results. Other tourist areas were touting her site as the model to follow. But to have a national cable channel interview her for their morning show?

“I really don’t know about this, Chance.”

“Aurora, you’re going to do great.” He squeezed her hands. “I
know
it.”

“I’ll try,” she said, searching for courage.

“If I know you, you’ll do more than try.” As his gaze traveled over her face, admiration softened his eyes. “How did I ever get so lucky to have you fall in love with me?”

“Marguerite’s charm?” she suggested.

“Must be. It’s the only explanation.”

 “Either that”—she draped her arms over his shoulders, determined to be brave—“or I simply have exceptional taste in men.”

“That too.” He lowered his mouth toward her.

“Wait!” She pulled back. “My lip gloss.”

“Looks yummy. Is it flavored?”

“Very Berry.” She grinned.

“Mmm,” he murmured and kissed her.

She expected a quick peck, but his mouth settled in to toy and taste, sending a thrill of excitement through her. After eight years of marriage, he still knew how to curl her toes. Forgetting her nerves, she molded her body to his and kissed him back.

“Mo-om!” a young voice drew the word out in a two-syllable complaint.

Rory pulled back, laughing at her daughter’s tone. Seven-year-old Lauren, who’d been coloring in the living room, now stood in the doorway with hands on hips. Dressed in a yellow sundress, she looked like an irritated ray of sunshine with long, blond ringlets. Thanks to her Gran’ma Ellen and Great Aunt Viv, she’d turned into quite the little fashionista. And oh, the horror of finding her parents in a lip lock.

“Sorry, Peanut,” Rory offered, backing away from her equally amused husband. “What do you need?”

“Not me.” Lauren pointed back toward the open great room. “AJ!”

“What?” Rory hurried forward. She’d had the children in her peripheral vision while putting on makeup, but then Chance had kissed her. She’d only taken her eye off AJ for a few seconds but she knew her son. Reaching the door, she spotted four-year-old AJ in the kitchen—standing on top of the counter with a cabinet open. Rising onto his toes, he reached toward the top shelf.

“Adrian James Chancellor,” she called, leaping into action, weaving her way through furniture, and brightly colored toys. “What are you doing?”

With a guilty start, he turned and saw her coming. “I’m not up here,” he said, trying to scramble down the way he’d gone up, by using open drawers as a ladder. “You don’t see me.”

“Oh, yes I do.” She reached him in time to pluck him into her arms before he could break a drawer and tumble to the floor. “How did you get these open? I have child locks on these.”

“Like that’s going to stop our little Evil Knievel,” Chance said striding into the scene with Lauren in his wake. He looked amused and just a tiny bit proud.

Rory scowled at him, then at her son. “You little stinker, what were you doing?”

“Animule Crackers!”

“You’re about to have breakfast, so no, you can’t have crackers. Plus, you’re supposed to ask, remember?” Shifting him to her side, she closed the drawers, making sure they latched. “You do not climb up on the counter to get them yourself. Do you understand?”

He pushed his bottom lip out in a mulish pout she knew all too well. Like his sister, he had golden curls and an angel’s face, but his came paired with a sturdy body and a daredevil’s heart.

“I swear to you, Chance,” she told her husband, “your son is going to be the death of me.”

“He gets that from you, not me,” Chance said.

“What?”

“Determination. Come here, rascal.” When Chance held out his hands, AJ leapt eagerly out of Rory’s arms with no fear of gravity. Chance caught him, as he always did, then held him up so they could talk eye to eye. “Your mommy’s nervous enough today, so you need to be an extra good boy, okay?”

“’Kay,” AJ agreed, which meant nothing. Rory knew he’d be right back to his usual antics the second he could slip away.

 “I told him not to,” Lauren said in her big-girl voice. “But did he listen to me?” She turned her hands palm up. “No.”

“I know, Sweetie.” Planting AJ on one hip, Chance ran a hand over his daughter’s hair. The tableaux they presented gave Rory a sweet ache of happiness. “Little brothers are a pain, aren’t they?”

“That’s because they’re boys,” Lauren informed him with a superiority that came from being the oldest.

“Can I count on you to help keep an eye on him while they’re interviewing your mommy?” Chance asked.

“I’ll try.” Lauren heaved a sigh of long suffering.

“Okay, then,” he said, taking his daughter’s hand, “let’s go upstairs.”

Rory’s nerves returned as Chance moved from the kitchen into the dinning area.

When she didn’t immediately follow, he turned back. “Coming?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Certainly,” he said. “You can stay down here cowering in fear, disappointing all the people upstairs who are so excited about this.”

“Tempting.” She laughed and glanced around the open great room that held so many memories.

Knowing the interviewer would ask about the history of the inn, she couldn’t help but think about everything that had happened since that fateful day when she’d set her heart on buying the dilapidated mansion to turn it into a bed and breakfast. She’d originally planned for the inn to be a way for her and her siblings to live together throughout their adult lives. She now realized how unrealistic that had been. Allison and Adrian had each found love and moved on with their lives, allowing her and Chance to move into the basement apartment, fulfilling her life-long dream to live in the mansion built for Marguerite.

Adrian still dictated the menu and helped plan events whether he was in town or traveling, but his friend Rusty now worked as their fulltime cook. Allison also traveled a lot, since her husband was a world renown thriller author who liked to research all the locales for his books in person. The trips allowed her to shop for special items for the gift shop so Rory had helped Alli turn the physical shop into a great online store.

All three siblings were still part of the inn, but the day-to-day business of running it had gradually fallen to her and Chance. Not that she minded. The old house, with its whispers of legends and ghosts, was as much a part of her as Chance and her children, something to nurture and cherish.

“Well?” Chance prompted her.

“Yes, I’m coming,” she sighed and joined him at the base of the stairs.

Following him and the kids up, she thought about how easily it could all have been snatched away on the whim of nature. Hurricane Ike had left the basement a soggy, muddy mess, forcing them to gut it back to the studs and finish it out all over again. Other people, though, had lost everything. The storm had decimated the whole neighborhood where Chance had grown up. Chance’s parents were rebuilding, but other people had moved to the mainland. She couldn’t imagine leaving behind the history, the culture, the
people
of Galveston.

As she neared the top of the stairs, voices drifted to her along with the scent of bread, bacon, and coffee. The friendly sounds and homey scents lifted her spirits as nothing else could. The number of voices, though, surprised her. Reaching the back hall, where light spilled from the kitchen, she saw Paige helping Allison fill food trays for the buffet in the dining room. She’d expected that, since Paige had agreed to fill in for her, but she hadn’t expected to see, Betsy McMillan from the Laughing Mermaid Inn pulling a baking sheet of pastries out of the oven. Another innkeeper, Steven, was scrambling eggs at the huge, restaurant grade stove. Adrian’s friend Rusty looked very official as he bustled about in his white chef’s jacket.