Riverbend (22 page)

Read Riverbend Online

Authors: Tess Thompson

“I'll watch her like a hawk.”

She found the pita chips on the top shelf in the pantry. And then, remembering she had hummus she'd made that morning on the counter, she grabbed a small serving bowl as well. She was about to head out when Drake appeared in the pantry doorway. He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him and staring at her for a moment with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his cotton slacks.

She swallowed hard, an image of him pushing her against the wall and kissing her making her legs feel weak. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything's fine.” He paused, running a hand through his thick hair. “Just be careful with Ben.”

She was taken aback and stuttered when she answered. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I know he's easy to like and even easier, I'm assuming, for a woman to fall in love with, but take it from me, the guy's not emotionally available. He's not over his ex-girlfriend.”

“He sounded like he was.”

“He told you about it?”

“Yes,” she said simply, feeling distinctly attacked. “I guess so.”

“She dumped him two weeks before their wedding and ran off with his cousin.”

She put her hand to her mouth. Her stomach felt sick just thinking about how much that must have hurt. “That's terrible.”

“Broke his heart. Hasn't been the same since.”

“He didn't give me any hint of that. He sounded like he was fine and that he's looking for the right woman and wants to get married. There wasn't a trace of bitterness in his voice. Usually I can read that in other people.” She paused, tugging on her apron. “It's odd that he didn't just tell me the whole story.”

“Men don't talk about things that upset them.”

“Why is that?”

He shrugged, looking almost irritated. “I don't know. The same reason women feel the need to talk about everything, I guess. Just the way we're made.” He grabbed the bag of chips from her hand. “Here, let me take those for you.” He moved towards the door and then turned back to her. “How did all this come up anyway?” Drake's face was dark, reminding Annie of a thundercloud that suddenly blocks the sun.

“What?”

“That he's looking to get married.” It came out as a growl.

She was flustered. How had it come up? “I don't know. We were talking and I guess I asked him why he wasn't married and he said he'd had a long-term girlfriend but they split and now he's trying to find the right person.” She stopped. Why was she rambling? She suddenly felt light-headed. Was she hungry? When was the last time she'd eaten?

“It seems to me he finds a lot of the right persons,” said Drake.

“That's certainly his right to do. He's single. And what he does
or doesn't do is none of my business. Or yours for that matter. Anyway, I'm not interested in him. I mean, I just met him.” She stared at him, trying to discern where all this was coming from and also where it might lead.

“Famous last words.”

The way he was looking at her, she could swear he was jealous. But that couldn't be. Talk about someone emotionally unavailable. Drake Webber was the poster child if there ever were one.

“Plus, the attraction between Ben and Bella is pretty obvious,” she said.

He crossed his arms over his chest and, like a teacher to a schoolgirl, said, “I'll tell you the same thing I told Bella this afternoon. Stay away from Ben Fleck.”

“Maybe you should tell that to Ellen, too.” She was suddenly peeved. Why did he think he had the right to tell Bella what to do? He was the one encouraging her to get over the married guy.

“What?”

“Never mind. Can we get back to your guests now?”

“Sure. Fine. Yes.” He opened the door to the pantry and she brushed by him, holding her breath against the intoxicating smell of his cologne.

Near the stove in the kitchen, spots came, black ones, and she stumbled. Her vision was a tunnel, closing, closing, until everything went black.

She woke to Drake kneeling on the floor next to her with a concerned look on his face. “Are you all right? Can you sit up?”

“What happened?”

“You fainted.”

“That's impossible.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“This morning. I think.”

“It's six in the evening. And you worked out today. Why aren't you eating?”

“My stomach feels upset. Nerves.”

“Can you sit up?” He looked as if he wanted to assist her but kept apart from her as he always did.

“Yes, I think so.” She scooted towards the counter, leaning
against it for support.

He disappeared for a moment. She heard the refrigerator open and close and then he was back with a few pieces of cheese and some salami from the platter she'd prepared earlier. “Eat this. Now.”

“I can't. It's full of fat.”

He did an impatient shake of his head and glared at her, wrapping a piece of salami around a square of cheese. “You need some damn food. Do I need to remind you that you just fainted on my kitchen floor? Open your mouth. Now.”

She took the food from him instead and popped it in her mouth. He watched her like she might spit it out or something. She chewed, glaring back at him. After she swallowed, she said, “I'm not a child, you know.”

“Then stop acting like one.” He fed her another piece of cheese and salami. Already she could feel the food giving her energy. “Is this even true that it's your stomach bothering you or is this some kind of control thing?” He handed her a third bite of food.

How did he know that? She avoided looking at him. Already the panic was coming to her. And something else, too. Regret. If she ate another bite, how many calories would that be all together? “I'm done. That's enough.” She moved as if to get up off the floor. “I'm feeling better.”

With his empty hand, he pressed the spot between her collarbones with the tips of his fingers. “No. You're not done.” Then he pulled his hand back, moving his eyes to stare at it as if it belonged to someone else.

Her gaze was fixed on his face, waiting to see if one of his panic attacks might begin. But his breathing was normal. His color was good. “You touched me,” she said.

“Yes.” His eyes shifted so they were staring into hers. Neither said anything for a long moment. Finally, he said, gently, “Why aren't you eating?”

Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. “The same reason I used to eat too much.”

“What's that?”

“It's the only thing I can control. The only thing that makes me feel less anxious. If I ration out the food, I can control the anxiety.”
She looked at the ceiling, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “It's hard to explain.”

“No, I get it.”

“You do?”

“Very much so, actually. But you have to eat. You have this boy to take care of. And he needs you healthy. I can see the weight dropping off you, a little more every day. I didn't want to say anything but I feel I have the right after you just fainted on my kitchen floor.” He reached for more food. “Open your mouth. Please.”

Feeling suddenly like a baby bird, she did so, and he placed the last of the food inside her mouth, almost like a gesture of affection. “Trust me, the best thing you can do is remain strong for the day he comes, for the day we have to face him.”

“We?”

He nodded towards the other room. “If you hadn't noticed, there's a whole room full of people in there ready and willing to protect you. You're not alone. You have them. And you have me.”

There was the sound of the kitchen door swinging open. It was Tommy, carrying Ellie-Rose on his hip. He stopped in his tracks when he saw them on the floor together. “What's the matter?” His brown eyes were alert, immediately going into paramedic mode.

“Annie fainted,” said Drake.

“What?” asked Tommy, sounding shocked. “Are you sick?”

“She hadn't eaten all day,” said Drake, rising to his feet. What was this? Discussing her as if she were not in the room.

She moved to get up, still feeling a little weak, if she were to admit the truth. Drake held out his hand to her. “Are you sure?” she asked him, softly.

“Yes. I'm sure.”

She took his hand and let him help her to her feet. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Tommy, spying the pita chips on the counter, opened the bag and poured them into a serving dish on the counter. He scooped a dollop of hummus up with a chip and handed it to her. “Carbs. Best thing for low blood sugar.” He was watching her carefully, still with his laser-like focus, even as he gave Ellie-Rose a chip. The baby
licked it and then sucked on it like it was a teething cookie.

Annie, chip in hand, pointed at the door. “I'm fine. Both of you need to get out. I have to finish dinner.”

“Eat it,” said Tommy.

“Fine.” She popped the whole thing in her mouth and chewed exaggeratedly. “Happy now?”

“Not really. But it'll do for now.” Tommy kissed the top of Ellie-Rose's head. “And Lee told me she wants to make name cards for the table. Any ideas of what we could use for that?”

“I do,” said Drake. “I'll be right back.”

“Thanks, man,” said Tommy. “So much for your recluse idea, huh?”

Drake smiled but his eyes were sad. “Yeah, you people have a way of working your way in.”

“Lee says the same thing,” said Tommy. “After a while you learn to give into it.”

Linus rang from the gate just before Annie was to plate dinner. The others were in the front room having cocktails, so she buzzed him through and a few minutes later met him at the front door. He was dressed impeccably, as usual, in cotton slacks and a silky short-sleeved shirt.

“I'm appalled I'm so late,” he said, his hands on his hips. “But things went crazy at the inn just as I was about to head out.”

“It's no problem. They're all having cocktails on the deck. And the VP of Hylink is here. Total hottie.”

“Oh, honey, I know. I met him earlier. Those eyes that make you think he's about to tell a joke all the time, and did you see his arm muscles? All ropey and lean.”

“Speaking of hotties, where's John?”

“He's hanging out with his art friends. I let him off the hook. Sometimes our whole ‘save the town thing’ wears a little thin for him.”

“Poor John.”

Linus smiled and nodded. “Poor long-suffering John.”

She motioned for him to follow her. “Wait until you see this house.”

As he followed through the foyer and into the front room, he said, “Your ass is looking kind of bony.”

“Don't you start in on me, too.”

He grabbed her hand, looking concerned. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, really. It's just weird to hear people say I'm too thin. Never thought that would happen in my lifetime.”

“You're not trying to lose more weight, are you?”

“No,” she said, lying. It was just another two pounds. No one else was standing in front of the mirror when she was naked. There was room for improvement, in particular the spot on her stomach that still had an inch of the old pooch. But she didn't bother to explain it to Linus, although he might be the person most likely to understand. Instead, she said what she knew everyone wanted to hear. “I've just been stressed.”

“Well, that's totally understandable.” He put his arm around her as they walked into the front room.

Bella was sprawled on one of the easy chairs, chatting with a clearly enraptured Ben when they entered. She was nothing short of gorgeous in a form-fitting white dress and high-heeled sandals. Her brown curls were arranged perfectly around her heart-shaped face, which she'd made up. If the way she looked was any indication, she was clearly good at her job.

Annie, for the last time that evening, made introductions. And then, knowing Bella and Ben wanted to be alone, asked Linus to follow her into the kitchen.

“Those two will be in bed together by the end of the night,” said Linus, once they were in the kitchen.

“I believe you're right. And Drake's going to have a fit.”

Several hours and bottles of wine later, they all sat around the long table in the dining room finishing dessert, a blackberry cobbler with vanilla ice cream. Per his request, Annie made sure Mike and Sharon were seated next to one another. But Mike needn't have
worried. It was quite obvious Sharon had no intention of sitting anywhere but next to him. Because the table was so long and there were so many of them, it was nearly impossible for the entire table to engage in one conversation. Regardless, talk had ranged from Ben's business to plans for the town to places they all wanted to visit. Annie was quiet through much of dinner, always more comfortable serving than participating. But she made sure to eat, avoiding Drake's pointed gaze.

After dessert, Lee, Ellen, and Linus helped Annie wash the dishes while the men and Sharon went out to the deck to enjoy the late evening air and a scotch.

“Where did you get the material for these place cards?” asked Lee, holding one of them in her hands. “They're really expensive card stock.”

“Drake had them,” said Annie.

“It's an odd thing for a man to have, you know, just around his house. It's something a woman would have,” said Lee. “Don't you think?”

Ellen scraped the dirty plates into the garbage disposal at the sink. “I agree. It feels like a woman lives in this house. All the details. Candles in the bathrooms. All those linens that match the wall paint.”

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