Saved by the Bride (7 page)

* * *

“If you want to talk about warehouses, let’s talk.”

A shadow cast itself over Annika and the sandcastle she’d been
making with Logan up until he’d gotten hungry and run back to the house. Now she
looked up to see the jet-haired and extraordinarily handsome Finn Callahan
standing above her, his stubbled cheeks taut, his Irish eyes dark, and even his
curls, which should have softened his terse look, seemed lined with steel.

She guessed he’d just discovered that Sean had asked for the
charges against her to be dropped and that the municipal court judge had
obliged. Annika totally got how that, combined with her being here as a guest,
would stick in his craw.
Tough
! He was the one who’d
been unreasonably stubborn and had misconstrued everything. He’d been the one to
kiss her and cop a feel before she’d come to her senses.

You
didn’t
.
He
pulled
away
first
.

The realization rocked her as she remembered him so clearly
stumbling away and pouring a drink with an unsteady hand. Now his dark eyes were
fixed on hers and in an automatic protective reaction she superimposed fair hair
on Finn’s perfect bone structure and golden hair on his head. Blond, he was
beautiful and unthreatening just like an angel. Albeit a cross and grumpy angel.
The gold vanished, and as she gazed at his charismatic darkness she imagined he
must look a lot like Lucifer had immediately after his fall from grace.

Right now this devil had her in his sights and she stifled a
shiver that wasn’t remotely generated by fear. That alone worried her. Almost a
week had passed since she’d met him and given that he’d refused to listen to her
and had her dumped in a jail cell, her brain should be overruling her body. Only
it wasn’t. Instead she was fighting the desire to rise to her feet and lean into
him. She pressed her hands against the sand to stop the tingling in her fingers
that burned to feel again the solid muscles she knew lay beneath his blue Oxford
shirt.

At least she recognized that touching him would be the fast
track to insanity. Knowing
that
had to help, right?
It must, because no one in their right mind would actively put themselves in the
path of someone they disliked and who intensely disliked them back. That simple
truth had to provide some protection, but she knew she needed a lot more.

She stayed seated and stared out at the lake. “Come to kiss me
again and hope you get lucky or are you planning on locking me up?”

A slight crack appeared in his rigid stance and his voice held
regret. “I apologize for the kiss. It was utterly out of line. It won’t happen
again.”

The surprise apology should have made her feel better—less
used—but instead she felt a traitorous sadness sneak through her. Furious with
herself she blurted out, “But putting me in a jail cell for a night wasn’t?” She
wrenched back some control and dropped her volume. “Your father’s a charming man
and a surprisingly good listener. Obviously not a trait you inherited.”

The crack sealed. “And you know me so well to judge.”

“Putting me in a jail cell set precedent.”

A muscle twitched close to his mouth and she imagined how, if
he let himself relax, it would wind up as a wide and captivating smile. “Put
yourself in my position, Annika. You broke the law and you lied about who you
were.”

The calm rebuke told her what she needed to say. “I admit my
thinking and actions were flawed and I’m sorry about that, but when Rory
explained all and you had the opportunity to recant, you didn’t.”

His jaw jutted. “There are worse character flaws than expecting
people to follow the rules.”

Granted, she normally played by the rules too but his words
were heavily weighted with an unexpected intransigence. What was that about?
“Admit it. You were ticked off and you wanted to take it out on someone.”

She heard a sharp intake of breath and glanced up at him,
glimpsing a look that had a hint of Logan, a touch of Sean and a trace of guilt.
Tiny beads of sweat formed on his top lip as his chinos and shirt were much more
suited to “casual Friday” in the air-conditioned comfort of an office rather
than being on a beach. She patted the space next to her, feeling a twinge of
sympathy for him. “It’s cooler down here on the sand.”

For a moment she didn’t think he’d sit but then his hands
pulled at the knees of his pants and he lowered his tight behind onto the sand,
leaving a space between them. “I’m sorry, Annika. I didn’t know Sean had bought
the warehouses and you’re right, I took it out on you.” He ran his hand through
his hair—the action jarring and jerky. “I know you’d prefer to speak with Sean
but he’s having some sort of midlife crisis so, sorry, but you’re stuck with me.
Let’s do what you wanted to do on Saturday night. Let’s talk about these
warehouses.”

The measured businessman was back and giving her the
opportunity she’d been waiting weeks for. She took in a deep breath and aimed
for concise. “You have two empty warehouses and Whitetail has forklift drivers,
assembly line workers and people with logistics experience. It’s a good
match.”

“It would be except for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“All of our warehouses are strategically positioned on our
major transport routes heading south of Chicago. Whitetail is too far
north.”

Confused, she turned to face him and regretted it as her
thoughts started to addle. No man should be allowed to be so broodingly
beautiful. His long straight nose and taut jaw cut an imposing profile and she
was reminded of the magnificent works by Michelangelo and Donatello that she’d
studied at college. “Then why did AKP buy the business park?”

A band of tightness circled his mouth and ran down his neck and
along his shoulders. “Sean bought them on a whim because they were cheap.”

No
. His father had been genuinely
apologetic and charming at the court, and again today as a host, so she couldn’t
believe the warehouses were just a rich man’s whim. “And to use, surely?”

This time he faced her. “What business are you in, Annika?”

The question startled her and she scrambled to answer. Once she
would have said “Art” but that dream had been trampled into the dust and she
didn’t bother mentioning the Milwaukee Gallery’s request because she hadn’t told
anyone about it. That and the fact she hadn’t even started the final painting of
the triplet—the lake bathed in summer’s dusk. “I have a home business. I use
calligraphy to create invitations, logos, that sort of thing. Mostly just for
people in town.”

“You can live on that?”

Almost
. The big fat zero on her
bank account’s balance told another story but she wasn’t going to admit that to
Finn. Not when his incredulous expression matched his tone, and sounded all too
similar to her brother’s regular emails.
You
need
a
real
job
,
Anni
.
Come
work
for
me
in
Milwaukee
.

She rolled her shoulders back and sat up straighter. “My main
job is keeping Whitetail afloat so it survives the economic slowdown.”
So
I
can
stay
here
. “This involves finding a replacement for
Reggies and AKP has to be that replacement. We have a lovely town on a beautiful
lake and people choose to live here for the quality of life, the clean air,
pristine water and being part of a community where people know your name and
notice if you don’t bring in your paper every morning.” Her voice rose. “No one
dies alone in this town like they do in Chicago. Whitetail is full of good
people and they deserve to have work.”

“Everyone deserves to have work.”

His wide mouth softened and she was reminded of the man who’d
pulled her through the window. The man whose mouth had creased into laugher
lines before teasing her about her lack of coordination.
And
kissed
you
until
you
were
a
puddle
of
need
.

She tried to forget that last bit and instead returned his
smile, relaxing for the first time since she’d seen him arrive. “Wow, we
actually agree on something. This has to be a sign of something good.”

His gaze grazed her mouth and she got that same quiver—the one
that sent a coil of heat through her belly. Heat that had nothing to do with the
summer sun.

He abruptly returned his gaze to the lake and tugged at a curl
that had fallen across his ear. “I’m sorry, Annika, but it would cost AKP money
to operate this far north so the warehouses are staying empty until we sell them
for a profit.”

Relaxation vanished, taking hope with it. “You can’t do that to
the town.”

He shrugged, the action resigned. “I’m not throwing money into
a bottomless pit when we’ve had to make substantial cuts elsewhere.”

After the debacle of falling through the window at the feet of
Finn Callahan and not knowing who he was, she’d done an internet search on him
and researched the business. “But AKP posted a profit last quarter.”

“Just.” His hand pressed down on the sandcastle, flattening it.
“The pressure’s on and my responsibility’s to the shareholders.”

A vortex of powerlessness spun in her chest, sucking her down.
Ryan had put business ahead of her and Finn was putting it ahead of an entire
community. “So you don’t care?” She heard her voice gaining volume. “You’re
quite content to sit back and watch a town die? I should have known you were a
heartless number cruncher when you dumped me in jail.”

Those bottomless eyes stared down at her, registering her
outburst of feeling with emotions tightly leashed, but she glimpsed pity. She
hated that.

“This isn’t personal, Annika. You’re confusing sentiment with
business and AKP’s not a charity.”

Art’s
a
business
,
Annika
.
You’re
naïve
if
you
think
it’s
not
. The smoking ashes of her past flared up and she
wanted to scream but this wasn’t about her, this was about the town.

Think
!

Somehow, she had to get Finn into town so he could see
Whitetail and meet the people. That would take Whitetail from a name on the map
to a real place with heart. A place people called home, a place where they
watched their children grow and thrive, and when the time came, they buried
their loved ones. “Have you seen the business park?”

“No.”

She remembered his expression at the police station when he’d
first seen the deeds and she aimed for what she was pretty certain was his
Achilles’ heel. “Isn’t a successful businessman one who keeps his finger on the
pulse of all aspects of his business?”

His shoulders jerked. “They’re warehouses!” His mild tone
vanished on a rising inflection. “X amount of square footage with walls and a
roof.”

Touchy
.
Good
. “Sounds an odd way to do business though. Buying something you
haven’t even seen.”

His lips barely moved. “I told you that I didn’t buy them.”

She tried to sound beyond casual. “I could give you a
tour.”

He abruptly shot to his feet sending sand flying and then he
extended his hand to her. “Let’s go.”

Startled, she shielded her eyes and looked up. “What, now?”

“Yes, now.” Impatience zipped around him as his hand hovered
between them.

She glanced toward the house and then back to him, not wanting
to be rude to Dana and Sean as well as being seriously hungry. Paying for the
ruined dress had meant skimping on food. “Dana said lunch was at one and that’s
in five minutes. We can go directly after that.”

He shook his head and his curls bounced. “You can stay here for
lunch if you wish but this is a one-off, never-to-be-repeated offer. You show me
the warehouses now or not at all.”

The detached businessman didn’t look quite so detached
anymore.

“So what’s it to be?”

She read the challenge in his eyes. Ditching lunch put her in a
tricky position but what choice did she have? None. For Whitetail, she threw her
lot in with the devil and accepted his hand.

* * *

“So you didn’t think to leave a message for me?” Bridey
sat cross-legged on the window seat of her room, her left thumb spinning her
large, square-cut diamond engagement ring with the diamond-encrusted platinum
band, while her right hand pressed her phone against her ear. All week she’d
been counting the days until the weekend and now she felt like a little girl
who’d been left out of a play date. The adult in her hated how whiney it made
her sound.

“I knew Finn would tell you.” Hank sounded mystified by her
chagrin. “And you know I’d have filled you in on everything when I called you
tonight.”

She did, which made the fact he hadn’t called even worse. Hank
rang her every night they were apart. At 7:00 p.m. when his automatic reminder
went off. She sometimes wondered if he thought of her at any other time during
the day. She leaned her forehead against the window, watching the way the light
played through the thick foliage of the trees and tried to stomp on her
disappointment. “I miss you.”

“I wanted to be on the helicopter, but it’s mayhem here.”

Hank’s calm voice—so unlike her father’s and Finn’s—usually
soothed but not today. She didn’t want to be soothed. She wanted Hank here. “Why
can’t Damien handle it?”

“Darling, you of all people know why. I’m the chief engineer
and in a crisis I have to be here. It’s a damn mess and we’re working around the
clock trying to keep things going. You know what it’s like when things go wrong,
and you know what it means if Jazz Juice pull out.”