With This Kiss (12 page)

T
he minute Rebecca walked into Lake Yarns, she breathed a sigh of relief. At this point, she really needed a refuge from the emotions swirling around inside of her for a little while.

Carol Powell, Andi’s mother, was busy helping a customer, and as Rebecca ran her fingers down a display of soft yarn, she was glad for the chance to focus on something other than the Murphy boys for a few moments.

She was a late convert to knitting but found it incredibly calming. Plus, she loved watching socks and blankets and sweaters take shape. She’d been toying with making new pillow covers for the couch in her living room, but just as she was about to grab a skein of blue worsted wool, her elbow knocked into another display. Super soft cashmere rained down upon her and she scrambled to catch the high-priced skeins before they hit the ground.

A short while later, Carol found her standing there with a dozen in her arms.

“Uh-oh, let me help you with that.”

“Sorry,” Rebecca said as she picked up a stray ball
that had rolled across the wood-plank floor. “I’m afraid I wasn’t paying enough attention.” Because she couldn’t stop thinking about Sean, a man she shouldn’t be thinking about at all.

Carol waved away her apology. “Andi always tells me I try to fit too much in a small space. And she’s right. But I love all the yarns so much I can’t stand to keep them in boxes in the back.”

Rebecca adored Andi’s mother. Carol’s warmth and open smile made her long for her own mother, for the warmth of arms that had held her since she was a baby.

And yet, hadn’t she just told her mother not to come visit for a while?

The problem was, Rebecca’s mother saw everything. With five daughters, she had to. And Rebecca didn’t want her to see how close to the edge of disaster her daughter was. As soon as she’d turned everything around, when the Tapping of the Maples Festival went off without a hitch, when Stu finally returned and Sean left the inn on another exotic trip somewhere on the other side of the world, that was when Rebecca would invite her mother and father and sisters and their husbands for a wonderful Emerald Lake weekend.

“We just got in the most delicious new pattern book,” Carol said, drawing her attention to the photographs and patterns in a coffee-table-sized book. “Look at these.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened at the knitted lingerie, beautifully soft nightgowns and corsets. There were even bra and panty patterns. She felt herself blush.

“I’d love to knit up something from the book as a sample,” Carol was saying, “but with Andi away on her honeymoon I’m backlogged enough as it is.”

“I’ll do it.”

The offer was out of her mouth before she even realized it. Oh, no, how could she have just said that? She already had enough on her plate with the inn and the festival, but Carol didn’t give her any time to reconsider.

“Would you really?” Carol looked positively gleeful at the prospect of some knitting help. “I just know this book will fly off the shelves if people can see one of the designs brought to life.”

“The thing is, I—”

She was unable to get the words out. Everyone in Carol’s family and store had been so kind to her since day one. How could she let her down on one small favor?

“I was looking for a new project anyway,” Rebecca finally said. And it was true. She had been looking for something new to knit. She just hadn’t planned on starting a new project while she had so much else going on. “I left my wallet at the inn, so I’ll come back in tomorr—”

“Oh, no, Rebecca. You’re helping me out. Everything is on the house.”

This was exactly why she loved Emerald Lake so much. She’d known Carol less than a year, but she was treated like family. Somehow, she’d find the time to knit a sample for the store.

Plus, it was a perfect reminder why Rebecca needed to put a stop to any insidious feelings creeping in for Sean. She couldn’t afford to have to leave another town because of a love affair gone awry. Not when she’d finally found the place she wanted to stay. And not when her broken engagement with Stu was already enough of a stain on her record.

“Why don’t you have a seat while we wait for everyone
else to get here. You can thumb through the book to decide which pattern you might like to tackle. Although,” Carol said, flipping through to a picture of a soft pink slip that was both sexy and sweet at the same time, “this is the one I keep going back to in my head.”

“It’s beautiful,” Rebecca said, and the truth was she could already see herself wearing it, could feel the softness of the yarn as it skimmed over her curves like second skin.

Carol clapped her hands together. “Yay! I’ll get you everything you need.”

While Carol gathered needles and yarn for her, Rebecca got to work pulling out wine glasses for the group. Women were coming in now, one and two at a time. Ten minutes of small talk later, most of the regulars had arrived.

Rebecca was glad to see them all, but made it a point to sit next to Celeste, Stu and Sean’s grandmother. She usually went by her cottage once or twice a week for tea, but she’d been so busy since Stu’s disappearance.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been over to see you more in the past few weeks,” she said softly as she cast on her new project.

“Cashmere,” Celeste said softly as she reached across to stroke the yarn between her thumb and forefinger. “My favorite.”

Rebecca knew that conversations with Celeste didn’t always go in a straight line. Some people found the gray-haired woman a bit eccentric because of this, but it was one of the things that drew Rebecca to her. As far as she could tell, Celeste lived her life according to her own rules and no one else’s. After all, look at the construction
business she’d built up and passed on to her son. For a woman who’d started back in the forties, her business success was nothing short of extraordinary.

“I’m going to be knitting up a sample from this book for the store.”

Celeste’s eyes went from the book to Rebecca and her eyes filled with a sudden gleam. “Yes. That should work out just right.”

Hmm. Nothing should have been strange about that statement. And yet, it felt strange all the same.

“Could I ask you something, Celeste?” When the elderly woman nodded, Rebecca lowered her voice and said, “The old ghost stories about the inn… when did they start being told?”

“You’ve felt something, haven’t you?”

Rebecca didn’t want to come across like a crazy person, so she began her answer by saying, “You know how interested I am in the history of the inn,” but when Celeste’s gaze remained clear and patient, she added, “I’m sure it’s nothing, but my new bedroom in the refurbished attic is so cold sometimes, even when the other rooms are perfectly warm. And a couple of times I could have sworn there was someone else in the room with me.” She shook her head at her own foolishness. “Listen to me. Telling you I think my bedroom might be haunted.” She smiled at the woman beside her. “Clearly, I’ve been working too hard lately.”

But Celeste didn’t smile back. Instead, the hint of loss, of sorrow that Rebecca had always felt was hiding behind her green eyes, rose to the surface.

“I knew this would happen. I told Stu not to refinish that room. There’s a reason it’s been shut down for sixty years.”

Rebecca worked to hide her shock at Celeste’s statement. “Stu never said anything to me.”

Then again, there were plenty of things her best friend hadn’t talked to her about, weren’t there?

She was just about to ask Celeste what happened sixty years ago when Dorothy and Helen started telling her what a great job she’d done with Andi and Nate’s wedding. Not wanting to be rude, she let herself be pulled into a conversation with two of her favorite people in town. Yes, they were two of the biggest gossips on the lake, but they were also two of her staunchest supporters. More than once, she’d overheard them deftly turn a conversation at Saturday’s wedding reception away from her breakup with Stu to something far more mundane.

When she looked for Celeste a handful of minutes later to continue their conversation about ghost stories, Sean’s grandmother was gone.

Sean could have left the front desk after dinner, but he figured it was just as easy to look through the final contracts that would turn over his venture business here as it was in the back office or bedroom.

And it meant he’d be certain Rebecca got back from the yarn store safely. Just because Emerald Lake was usually a safe small town didn’t mean exceptions didn’t happen. Especially if there was an angry ex waiting in the wings for a beautiful, delicate woman he thought should be his.

The inn’s front door opened and he worked to keep his expression impassive, even though relief immediately swept through him head to toe that Rebecca was fine.

“Cold out there, isn’t it?”

She jumped at his question. “Oh, I didn’t expect you to be out here still.” She frowned. “I should have told you that we don’t usually man the front desk after everyone is seated for dinner.”

The soft sound of her words fluttered across his skin as he drank in her flushed cheeks and the windblown silk of her hair.

He gestured to his paperwork. “I was fine working here.”

She was in the process of taking off her down coat when her fingers stilled on the zipper.

“You were waiting up for me.”

It wasn’t a question. But he felt compelled to answer it, nonetheless.

“I had to make sure you got home okay.”

Again, irritation lit her very pretty, cold-flushed face. “Do you always worry this much about your employees?”

She was up the stairs and gone before he could answer her slightly snarky, yet pointed, question… or deny the way the flash of fire in her eyes sent his heart to jumping around in his chest.

And made him want, more than anything, to claim her as his own, if only for one night, to know if her fire burned as hot and bright as he imagined it did.

Rebecca was exhausted, but even a long, hot bath and knitting row after row of the soft cashmere slip couldn’t make her eyes want to close, or her brain turn off. She hated the horrible things Mark had said. And yet, somehow, most of those had washed off her like water off a duck’s back.

No, what had her sleepless in Emerald Lake was that
even knowing how hesitant she should be to consider letting a man near her heart after that awful conversation with Mark, she couldn’t stop thinking about Sean.

And that one perfect smile he’d given her earlier that day when he’d agreed to be trained on inn keeping by her.

One smile shouldn’t have meant so much.

But it had.

Which was what made his obvious disgust over her relationship with Mark even worse.

And then, on top of all that, Sean was right about the burden of all she was taking on. She still had a great deal to take care of to ensure that the Tapping of the Maples Festival went off without a hitch. Just because the paperwork for the vendors she was approving and the contractual details between the inn and each and every one of the vendors had been making her eyes cross earlier was no excuse to slack off tonight. For the next couple of hours, as the digits on her digital clock flipped over from twelve to one and then two, she made progress. When she stabbed herself with a pen for the tenth time as she yawned, she threw it down and climbed up into her bed, turning off the lamp on the bedside table.

But she still couldn’t sleep.

God forbid she wasn’t at the top of her game tomorrow around Sean. Lord only knew how he’d manage to take advantage of her weakness.

Maybe he’d steal a kiss.

No! She sat up in the bed and turned the light back on. How could she sleep if that was the kind of garbage her brain was going to spit out at her?

She was most certainly not going to kiss Sean. Not tomorrow morning. Not ever.

Just as she was repeating the vow to herself, she heard an awful wailing sound. Her first impression was that she was listening to a broken heart come to life.

The practical part of her had her jumping out of bed to figure out where the sound was coming from. If one of her guests was in pain, she needed to help him or her.

But when she rushed out of the bedroom, the sound got softer. Frowning, she stopped and turned back to the bedroom. Her earlier conversation with Celeste playing around the corners of her mind, she took a few steps back toward the bedroom.

Yes, the wailing was definitely getting louder.

What on earth was going on here? A strange cold patch was something she could accept. But strange sounds?

No, that was just too weird.

It had to be an animal, probably caught up between her ceiling rafters and the shingles on the roof. She was just reaching for her jeans to put on over the camisole and boy shorts she’d worn to bed to go investigate further when she heard a key move in her door lock.

The door flew open and Sean rushed inside. “Are you okay?”

She’d never seen him in jeans, let alone without a shirt on. Oh boy. The sight of all those muscles along with his rumpled hair and the dark shadow of stubble on his face did funny things to her stomach.

“I’m fine,” she said, but she wasn’t sure he heard her because instead of stopping in his tracks and apologizing for barging into her—locked—suite, he had one hand on her shoulder and the other was running over her forehead, brushing back her hair as if he were looking for bruises.