Tempting Fate (35 page)

Damn champagne, damn beer, damn...Roger.

His already aching gut twisted. He’d never felt this way about any woman he’d been involved with before. He was always much too busy to care whether the relationship lasted beyond being a simple distraction to his work.

But this wasn’t just any woman. This was Cara. And there were no words to describe what she meant to him.

Cara had said she wanted to save their friendship. But deep inside, he knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her. They would have made love last night and it would have been wonderful. And instead of waking up with a colossal hangover, he'd be cradling Cara's warm naked body in his arms right now.

Why was she being so stubborn? Why couldn't he get her to believe that everything about them was a perfect match?

He couldn’t do this alone. No, he’d have to employ some heavy hitting troops to win this battle. The best in the field. And he knew exactly who to go to for help.

* * *

Cara sat on the edge of the bed, still nursing a cup of coffee and hoping the two aspirin she’d taken would hurry up and kick in. “Are you sure you want to leave?”

“Yes,” was all Roger answered.

She sighed. She’d hoped that sleep would have changed things for both of them. But it hadn’t. She was glad this week with Roger was over.

“Don’t be disappointed. We can go to Nantucket another time. Maybe after your parents leave for Florida.” The little snicker in his voice didn’t escape her.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she shot back defensively.

“Simply that I think this mood you’ve been in will finally pass after your parents move. That’s all.”

His explanation did nothing to assuage her irritation. Neither did the aspirin she’d taken a half hour ago.

“No, it won’t,” she huffed, instantly regretting giving up precious air as the room began to spin. Pressing her fingers to her temples, she added, “And I’m not moody, either.”

Roger tossed his shaving kit in his suitcase. “Call it what you want, but I’ll be glad when there’s a little distance between you and your family.”

She glared at him, unable to believe what he’d said.

Roger cocked his head to one side and smirked. “It’s not like you’ve got the normal, garden variety family, Cara. Even your brother became a priest to escape the wrath of Ruthie Dearest.”

“He did not!”

“Let’s face it, most people have parents that play bingo and squawk about their neighbors at the parish hall dance. Your grandmother goes deep sea fishing every chance she gets, your father is relegated to watching the baseball game at the hardware store and your mother has been making baby booties for her grandchildren since you were born.” He laughed and shook his head. “You have to admit it’s a bit odd.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

His eyes flew open wide and he propped his hands on his hips as if in disbelief. “If you have to ask, then you’ve been around their influence too long.”

Her blood was like ice flowing through her veins. How had she managed to push aside his feelings for her family for so long? Did he really think she thought so little of them like he did? “Their influence is what made me the woman I am today,” she scowled.

“You’re nothing like your family, I’m happy to say.”

“I am my family. And I’ll probably cry like a baby on the day that U-haul takes them to Florida.”

She slammed her coffee mug on the night stand, sloshing liquid over the rim, and knotted her arms across her chest.

“You’re such a snob, Roger. I can’t believe I never saw this before.”

“Exactly. And you say you’re not moody?”

“I’m defensive. And why shouldn’t I be when you talk as if I’ve got The Munsters for a family? I’ll admit that they’re sometimes a bit off-”

“A bit?” he challenged.

“But they love each other. They’re committed to each other and they aren’t afraid of that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? What about us? We’re committed to each other and we don’t act wacko.”

“Are we?” she asked, deciding to let the wacko comment slide. Given her hangover, she only had so much fight in her and she needed to save it for the important issues.

His mouth dropped open and he nodded. “So that’s what this is all about. You want a commitment.”

He smiled, but instead of having its usual effect, Roger just looked smug. And she wanted to wipe that self-righteous smirk right off his face.

“If you wanted to get married, why didn’t you just say something?” he said. “If you need a piece of paper to prove to yourself and your family how we feel about each other then fine, we’ll get married.”

Cara couldn’t believe her ears. This was the last thing she wanted. She’d been fighting this demon all week and it still managed to drag her to the ground.

“I, ah, don’t know.” Did she really need proof that he loved her? She thought back on her behavior these last few days, wanting him to be jealous. She had been acting irrational. She’d tried to reason that she was being overly emotional about her birthday, seeing Devin...

She’d foolishly thought that Roger would show some kind of emotion, jealousy for her being with Devin. It wasn’t fair of her to want that, but she couldn’t help it. Everything about her relationship with Roger had remained steady. There’d been no surprises, no excitement at all.

All Devin had to do was look in her direction and the earth seemed to tilt on its axis. Heat flamed her cheeks with the thought of their kiss. It pretty much rocked her world. If she hadn’t had the good sense to leave, Lord only knows what would have happened.

Her heart pounded in her chest. She knew exactly what would have happened. She and Devin would have made love. And it would have been wonderful. No doubt about it.

She felt the depression on the bed as Roger sat down next to her. Taking her hand in his, he said, “Why don’t you take some time to think about it.”

She nodded and glanced quickly at him. Yes, she had a lot of thinking to do. Mostly about what she wanted and where her life was headed. “Yeah, we need some space.”

* * *

Devin stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen floor, holding a tea pot filled with boiled water in one mittened hand and a plate of Danish in the other. Devin could hardly believe his ears.

“Who’s getting married?”

“You and Cara,” Ruthie announced. She picked up the mug he’d just placed in front of her and dipped her tea bag in the boiling water, bobbing it up and down. “Well don’t act so surprised. It’s not like I’ve been keeping my intentions a secret. When I called you in Manhattan I told you exactly what I was planning. I don't know why you and Cara sound so shocked.”

He stood there, completely dumbfounded, although he was hard-pressed to know why. This was exactly the kind of thing he would expect from Ruthie. But unlike Cara, he wasn’t immune to it.

Ruthie stood up, took the tea pot from his hand. “Let me take that, Devin. You look completely unnatural.”

She dropped the kettle on the stove and swung around.

“Oh, and don’t worry. I called your mother to invite her, but...” She bit her bottom lip. “She was a little upset you didn’t call her yourself, so I smoothed things over and gave her all the details.”

“Which are?”

“You and Cara are getting married on Labor Day.”

“That’s it?”

“Uh-huh. Don’t worry. She’s just as happy as I am.” Ruthie sat down and turned her focus to the steeping tea, squeezing the excess liquid from her tea bag and acting as if all this was perfectly normal.

Yes, he called Ruthie to ask for guidance on how to handle this situation with Cara. Devin knew she had something up her sleeve, but he’d never dreamed she’d gone this far.

“And when were you planning to tell me this hoax of a wedding you've been planning was a real wedding?”

She looked at him innocently over the rim of her mug. “When you were on my side. Which is, I hope, the reason you called me here this morning.”

He laughed, a rolling guttural sound that turned into a deep belly laugh he couldn’t get under control. He turned and hunched over, resting his hands on the counter, trying to compose himself.

“I’m so glad you aren’t angry,” Ruthie said, smiling brightly.

Wiping the laughing tears from his eyes with his palms, he said, “You’re a woman after my own heart, Ruthie.”

“Yes, as long as that heart meets up nicely with my daughter’s.”

He sank into the kitchen chair opposite hers. A sobering thought clutched him. “There’s only one problem.”

“Which is?”

“She doesn't want me. She loves Roger.”

Ruthie cocked her head to one side and rolled her eyes. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

After the way she’d kissed him on the beach, the way she gazed up at him with those big brown eyes of hers, he would have sworn she wanted him. And yet, there was something wedged between them.

“I don’t know,” he muttered.

She clanked her mug on the table. “Well, I do. And the fact that Roger is no longer in the picture just goes to prove that I am right.”

“Roger's gone?” This was getting interesting.

“He packed his bags and left before breakfast this morning.”

Although it wasn’t her kitchen, Ruthie cleared the table of the mugs and Danish and brought them to the counter. She turned on the sink’s faucet and added a dopple of dish soap.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, knowing she was going to clean his dishes anyway, because that was just Ruthie’s way. Unlike Cara, he didn’t find it annoying, just amusing.

She shooshed him with her hands. “I’ll only be a minute. You sit and think about what you’re going to do to bring my daughter around.”

He sank deeper into the chair. “I have no idea. That’s why I called you.”

She smiled her pleasure. “Remember, all is fair in love. Roger has opened a window, now make it into a door. Give Cara some space. But only for another day or two. Have you ever been to Nantucket?”

“No.”

“It’s simply breathtaking.” She leaned against the counter as soap suds rose in the sink behind her. “They have those beautiful quaint Inns along the beaches. Very romantic.”

She turned off the water and submerged her hands in the basin.

“Make sure you get a room with a sunset view. The morning sun makes it so hard to sleep in after a long romantic evening.”

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. After refusing to let her thirty-five year old grown daughter share a room with a man she'd had an ongoing relationship with, Ruthie was practically giving him her blessing to sleep with Cara.

He loved the idea.

* * *

Three days had passed since Cara's birthday party. Two days had passed since Roger had left for Boston. But it seemed like another lifetime since Cara had last seen Devin. She’d thought of taking a walk by the cottage to see what he was up to, but always managed to talk herself out of it. She had a lot to think about. She wanted a family. Her own family was leaving. But what weighed most heavy on her mind was Devin and how they would salvage their relationship after the searing kiss they’d shared.

Instead of thinking, she found herself engrossed in helping her parents pack for the move to Florida. The house had been sold and she was fighting her own conflicting emotions on a minute by minute basis, trying to imagine some stranger hanging pictures on the walls and living in her home. Every memory she had was stored between these walls. Each item she wrapped in bubble wrap had a story to it that she told herself again, as if she had to in order to keep the memory alive.

And Devin was there, too. So much of the memories she’d drawn on in her adult life revolved around that last summer when Devin was a staple here.

She tore a piece of tape out of the dispenser and applied it to the cardboard box she’d finished filling just as Elsie walked into the kitchen. Even with her frosted salt and pepper hair, she looked a lot younger than Cara felt. She was dressed in a skin tight coral wetsuit.

With a jubilant smile, Elsie said, “I’m off to go parasailing with Albert.”

“Parasailing? I know you really like him, Grandma, but isn’t parasailing a little dangerous for...you know.”

Elsie penciled eyebrows stretched high on her forehead. “Someone my age, dear?”

That’s exactly what Cara had been thinking, but not wanting to hurt her grandmother, she stopped short of saying it.

Elsie simply chuckled. “Never you worry, Cara. Albert has wonderful aim.”

Cara snorted. “I can’t believe you’re having an affair with a man who’s Daddy’s age.”

“Someone around here ought to be having sex. It might as well be me. Why don't you join us?”

“Excuse me?”

“Parasailing.”

Cara sighed. “I think I'll pass.”

Elsie's penciled eyebrows stretched high on her forehead. “Suit yourself. But for heaven's sake don't go moping around the house all day again. You're much too young. Besides, you can't blame it on a hangover forever.”

“I'm not moping,” Cara shot back defensively.

“Call it what you like, but you only have a few more days’ vacation. You said you wanted to go to Nantucket. Why don't you ask Devin if he wants to go with you?”

With the mention of Devin's name, tears filled Cara's eyes.

Elsie dragged a vinyl covered kitchen chair next to Cara and sank into it, taking Cara's hand. Her tone was soft and gentle as she spoke. “Mia Cara, what’s troubling you so?”

Cara puffed her cheeks. She suddenly felt like a little girl with a skinned knee. “For the first time in my life I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Elsie chuckled long and loud. “It seems to me the answers have been dropped in your lap. All you have to do is pick them up.”

“That's easy for you to say.” She puffed her cheeks. “He asked me to marry him.”

Elsie smiled warmly and squeezed Cara’s hand. “That’s wonderful news, dear.”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

“Why on earth not? You love him, don't you?”

Cara sighed. She knew the answer was no. Although she cared about Roger, she wasn't in love with him. She was in love with Devin.

Elsie gave her a gentle hug. “If you want to know what I’d do-”

Cara perked up. “Yes, I do.”