The Inn at Eagle Point (29 page)

*
* *

Jess had seen Abby walking toward the inn earlier, then
making the sharp turn toward the beach. She'd known without question in that
moment that her sister had seen the carpet delivery van leaving. Despite her
conviction that the purchase had been a good one, her stomach had knotted as
she tried to view it from Abby's perspective. She knew with absolute certainty
that Abby would see the new rugs as yet another betrayal of what should have
been their mutual goal: to get the inn open and make it profitable.
"I am such a screwup," she muttered, taking a seat on one of the
steps leading upstairs to wait for her sister's return. All of her stubborn
determination to insist on this one victory faded. She took her cell phone from
her pocket, removed the carpet invoice from her other pocket and reluctantly
dialed the carpet company's number.
Sucking in a deep breath of resolve, she said, "I just had six rugs
delivered to The Inn at Eagle Point. I need them to be picked up, today if
possible."
"Are they defective?" the woman on the other end of the line asked.
"I haven't even looked," she admitted.
"Then I don't understand."
"The purchase was a mistake. I need to return them and have the amount of
the sale credited to my account."
It took her fifteen minutes of cajoling and a conversation with a supervisor to
get the commitment that the carpets would be picked up later in the afternoon.
There would be a restocking fee, but it was minor compared to what she was
saving by returning the rugs.
"Thank you so much," she said. "I really appreciate it. And I'm
very sorry for the inconvenience."
She clicked off the phone with a sigh. It had been the right thing to do, but
she couldn't pretend to be happy about it.
That was the precise moment Abby picked to return, almost stumbling over the
largest of the rolled-up rugs that blocked the door. Jess watched the color
flame in her cheeks, saw that there was more than likely an expletive on the
tip of her sister's tongue. She held up a hand to forestall it.
"They're going back," she said before Abby could say a word.
"I've already called. They'll be picked up later this afternoon."
She could tell she'd caught Abby by surprise. She'd probably been spoiling for
a fight and now Jess had stolen her thunder. She forced a faint smile.
"Sometimes I am capable of recognizing and doing the right thing."
Abby picked her way over the rolls and sat down on the steps beside her,
shoulder to shoulder as they'd done so often through the years. "What made
you decide to send these back?"
"It finally sank in that you and I are on the same team here. I'd turned
us into adversaries."
Abby nodded, not denying it. She slanted a look toward Jess. "Don't you
understand that saying no to you just about kills me?"
"When I'm being rational, I do," Jess told her. "Other times,
not so much."
Abby nodded in understanding. "I know how badly you want everything in
here to be perfect from day one, but the place is already amazing with all the
changes you've made. It's warm and cozy and inviting." Nudging Jess in the
side, she grinned. "And what fun would it be if you had absolutely nothing
left to fix or change or decorate after the opening?"
At the suggestion that she might be easily bored by the inn so quickly if there
weren't more projects to do, Jess bristled, then let it go. She knew Abby
hadn't intended the comment to be a dig. Relaxing finally, Jess grinned back at
her. "I never looked at it that way. As soon as we're in the black, I can
think about ordering these rugs again." At Abby's dismayed look, she
added, "I swear they weren't that expensive." She gave Abby a sly
look. "Want to peek at them?"
"I don't think you should unwrap them," Abby cautioned.
"But you do want to see them, don't you?" Jess taunted. "I know
your curiosity must be killing you to see what I thought was so special about
them that I was willing to risk your wrath. How about just one? We can roll it
right back up again."
"Okay, yes, I'm curious," Abby admitted. "But just unroll
one."
Jess already knew from the size and invoice number which one had been intended
for right here in the foyer. She carefully slit the paper with the utility
knife she kept in her pocket for a dozen different uses that came up during the
day. When she unrolled it, she heard Abby's gasp.
"Oh, my, it's beautiful," her sister said. "The colors are so
rich, the design is amazing with the flowers in the middle and the border of
seashells. It's perfect for right here under this table. It really brightens up
the area and the beige carpet actually provides a nice backdrop for it. It'll
look even more spectacular when there's money to rip out the carpet and
refinish the wood floors."
Jess chuckled at her enthusiasm. It was the same reaction she'd had when she'd
first seen it. "I know," she said, experiencing a moment of triumph.
"Are the others the same?"
"No, I chose each one to go with the color scheme in the room it was
intended for. The biggest one is for the sitting room. Some are mostly flowers,
like this one. Others are very beachy. All of them are bright. I wanted the
vibrancy they'd add to the decor. I figured they would make up for not pulling
up the carpet and getting the floors refinished." She regarded Abby with
an earnest expression. "I swear I only bought them for the rooms where the
carpet seemed particularly boring."
Abby couldn't seem to tear her gaze away from the one they'd unrolled.
"Open another one," she said unexpectedly.
"But—"
"Just do it before I change my mind."
Jess slit the paper on a second rug, this one with a vivid teal background and
larger seashells that added cream and hints of pink and coral to the design.
"For the room at the end of the hall on the left," Abby guessed at
once, nodding her approval. "It's perfect." She pointed to the
largest. "That's for the sitting room?"
Jess nodded.
Abby sighed, then said, "Go ahead, open it."
There was barely room to spread this one out, so they carried it into the
sitting room with its deep green walls, furniture upholstered in a lighter
shade of celadon green edged with the same dark shade as the walls. Large pots
of artificial flowers that she hoped to replace with real ones during the
summer season gave the room its additional color. The new rug, also a deep
green, had a single huge bouquet of splashy summer flowers in the middle,
bordered by a thin band of light green. It couldn't have been more perfect if
they'd had it woven themselves.
Abby knelt down at once, her fingers sinking into the deep pile, her eyes
alight just as Jess's had been when she'd spotted it in the store. She leaned
back on her heels and looked up.
"I know I'm going to hate myself for doing this, but call them back. We're
keeping the rugs."
Jess stared at her in astonishment, hardly daring to believe her ears.
"Really?"
"They're too perfect. How can we let them go, knowing they might not be
available when the budget frees up some cash? Let me see the invoice."
Jess handed it over, still not quite believing that her sister was giving in.
"Look, it really is okay if we can't afford them," she said, trying
not to let hope seep into her voice.
Abby smiled at her. "The fact that you'd already made the call to have
them picked up means a lot. It's true that the inn can't afford them right now,
but I can. They're my gift to you."
"No," Jess protested. "You've already invested in the inn, to
say nothing of coming down here to help me. I can't accept this, too. It's too
much."
This time it was Abby who dug in her heels. "They're staying, Jess.
They're the perfect finishing touches and I want to do this for you. I want you
to see how much I believe in you and in the inn."
Jess wanted the carpets to stay so badly, but she still didn't feel right
accepting them. "You shouldn't make it easy on me. I screwed up."
"But with all the right instincts," Abby said, standing up and giving
her a fierce hug. "Just look at how this rug sets off everything in this
room. It pulls everything together."
Jess frowned at the comment. "Is that why you gave in, because you like my
taste?"
"Partly, maybe. Would that be so bad? But the real reason is because you
actually got the point about why they should go back. It gives me high hopes
that what I've been telling you really is starting to sink in. I'm not
rewarding the bad behavior, I'm rewarding what you did before I got here."
She shrugged. "Besides, they're just too gorgeous to send back."
"I felt the same way about the stove," Jess blurted, ruining the
moment. Abby immediately scowled.
"That's in a whole other league, Jess," she said tightly. "And
you know it. That stove cost a fortune. It was an extravagance, especially when
the one we have works just fine. These rugs cost less than half as much and
they're part of the decor. They'll add to the ambience for the guests."
Jess winced. "I get what you're saying. I'm sorry I spoiled this rare
moment of total rapport between us. No more whining about the stove. I
promise."
Abby nodded, but Jess thought she caught a little glimmer of something in her
eyes. At first she thought maybe it was approval, but then she decided it was
something else entirely, as if she knew something that Jess didn't. It was
there and gone so quickly, though, that she couldn't be sure she hadn't
imagined it.
"I'll call the carpet company right now," she said, wanting to get
away from Abby before she did something to make her sister change her mind
about keeping them. Before she left the room, she embraced Abby. "I know I
haven't said this nearly enough, especially lately, but thank you. And I'm not
talking about giving me the rugs. I mean for everything. My whole life you've
been the one person, other than Gram, I knew I could count on."
"You can always count on Mick, Bree, Connor and Kevin, too," Abby
reminded her.
"Not like you," Jess insisted, teary-eyed and embarrassed by it.
"So, just thanks, okay?"
Abby's eyes were filled with unshed tears, as well. "I'm sorry for being
so hard on you about some of this, but you do know I love you, don't you? That
will never change."
"Right back at you."
And from this moment on, she was going to do everything in her power never to
let her big sister down again.

*
* *

Trace stood on the beach looking up toward the house that
sat on a precipice above it. It wasn't a mansion by any means—just four
bedrooms and three baths—but it had a sunlit den that could be turned into a
studio, a smaller room off the kitchen that had been intended for a live-in
housekeeper, but which could make an ideal office for someone working from
home. There was also a sprawling flagstone patio edged with flowers and a chef's
dream of a kitchen with stainless-steel appliances, granite countertops and
cherry cabinets. A thriving herb garden was just outside the kitchen door.
"What do you think?" Susie O'Brien asked, her expression eager.
"It's pretty amazing, isn't it? Houses like this don't come on the market
all that often. It's the only one we have right now and several people looked
at it last weekend. If you ask me, Uncle Mick outdid himself on the design for
this one."
"He did," Trace agreed, wanting this house for himself and Abby and
the girls with a ferocity that shocked him.
When he'd been struck by the idea of buying the perfect house, he'd envisioned
something exactly like this in the back of his mind. When he'd gone by Susie's
office, though, he'd not been overly optimistic that he'd find one. He'd known,
just as she said, that they rarely came on the market. Water views were in high
demand, especially those that Mick himself had designed and built in the early
stages of Chesapeake Shores. His national reputation made anything he'd
designed especially desirable.
Impulsively he pulled out his checkbook, knowing the risk he was taking by not
asking Abby how she might feel about him buying a house for the two of them.
The grand gesture could prove to be an unwelcome surprise. Hopefully, though,
he could persuade her that this would be the perfect home for their family or,
if not a year-round home, at least a summer house which would maintain their
roots in Chesapeake Shores.
"What'll it take to guarantee I get this?" he asked Susie.
Susie gave him a startled look. "The asking price would lock it up, I'm
sure. And if you do it quickly, hopefully you'll avoid getting into a bidding
war. That happened on the last house like this that came up for sale."
Though it went against Trace's nature not to bargain, he nodded. "Then
that's the offer I'm making. Take it to the owners and keep in mind that I do
not intend to lose this place," he said, trusting her not to use that bit
of knowledge to the owners' advantage.
"Let's go back to my office and do the paperwork," she said. She gave
him a grin. "I don't suppose you'll have any trouble getting your loan
approved."
Trace chuckled. "No, I don't suppose I will."
In fact, the biggest obstacle he faced would be getting Abby to say yes when he
asked her to stay here and share this house with him. He figured, though, if he
bided his time, lured her back into his bed a few more times, she might be
willing to concede that living with him was an excellent idea. Moreover, she
might even consider building their future right here.

*
* *

When Trace turned up at the house just in time to help Abby
put the girls to bed, his arrival drew a knowing glance from Gram and a more
suspicious one from Mick.
"You're spending a lot of time with my daughter lately," Mick
commented.
"I am," Trace agreed.
"Any particular reason for that?" Mick pressed.
Abby's grandmother didn't do a very good job of hiding a chuckle at the
question. Trace winked at her.
"The usual reasons, sir," he told Mick. "I enjoy her
company."
Mick tried to stare him down, evidently aware that Trace had been enjoying a
whole lot more than Abby's company. That hard, knowing look gave Trace pause.
He didn't buckle under it, but he decided damage control might be called for.
"If you're asking me if my intentions are honorable, sir, they are,"
he assured Mick. "I want to marry her. I'd prefer it, though, if you
didn't say anything. I don't think Abby's quite ready to make that kind of
commitment yet."
Mick's expression eased. "Well, it's certainly not the kind of thing she
should be hearing from me before she hears it from you." His gaze narrowed
a bit. "You sure you have the situation under control, though? Do you need
any advice?"
This time Gram didn't even attempt to hide her guffaw. "Mick O'Brien, stay
out of this. You're the last person on the planet who ought to be giving anyone
relationship advice."
To Trace's surprise, Mick just grinned. "You might be surprised by what I
know about handling the opposite sex, Ma."
"Not likely," Gram muttered. "Trace, why don't you go on
upstairs? I know the girls would love it if you were there to help tuck them
in. They've been asking about you."
He nodded. "I'll see you later, then."
Inside, he took the stairs two at a time, then slowed as he neared the girls'
room. He had to be careful not to let Abby see his excitement about the house
and start asking questions he wasn't ready to answer. He'd gotten word that his
offer had been accepted just before coming over here, but as much as he wanted
to share that, he knew he had to keep it to himself a while longer. Hearing
that he'd bought a house would only spook her right now.
"I hear a couple of rowdy little girls who sound much too
wide-awake," he announced as he entered their room.
Abby's head snapped around. Her eyes lit with surprise and pleasure. A slow
smile spread across her face. "I wasn't expecting to see you
tonight."
"I was at loose ends and I missed you," he said, shoving his hands
into his pockets to keep from reaching for her.
She looked amazing with her hair tousled, probably from being outdoors, and her
skin glowing. She was wearing short shorts, a tank top that clung to her curves
and no shoes. Her toenails had been painted a soft shade of coral that
complemented her lightly tanned legs and feet. She didn't look a day older than
she had the last night they'd spent together before she took off for New York
all those years ago. If they'd been alone in the house, he would have dragged
her straight down the hall and into her bed. As it was he settled for dropping
a chaste kiss on her forehead. To his amusement, she seemed as disappointed by
that as he was.
He lowered himself to the floor beside her. "So, what's tonight's
story?"
"Mommy's reading to us about Alice," Carrie told him, her excitement
evident in her sparkling eyes.
"Alice in Wonderland,"
Abby confirmed. "Right now, we're
at the Mad Hatter's tea party."
Trace leaned back against the edge of Caitlyn's bed and felt her creep closer.
"Sounds exciting. Carry on."
"You want to hear the story, too?" Carrie asked, sounding amazed.
"Absolutely. Mostly I've avoided tea parties, but one thrown by a Mad
Hatter? Now, who wouldn't want to be invited to that?"
Above him, Caitlyn giggled. Next thing he knew, she'd slipped off the bed and
snuggled against him. Before he could adjust to that, Carrie, not to be
outdone, was on his other side. Abby stared at the three of them with an
expression he couldn't read. A faint smile played about her lips, but then she
looked down and began to read.
Trace couldn't focus on the story at all. He was too caught up in the
realization that this was what it was like to be a dad, to have a family, to be
with people he wanted to spend his life protecting and loving. Lost in a sea of
unfamiliar emotions, he didn't notice when the girls fell asleep or when Abby's
voice faded.
At Abby's touch, he blinked and met her gaze.
"They're asleep," she whispered. "We have to get them into bed
without waking them."
"I'll do it," he said, rising, then gently lifting first Carrie, then
Caitlyn back into their beds. Impulsively he bent down and pressed a light kiss
to their cheeks. "Night, angels."
He waited at the doorway while Abby did the same, then tucked their covers up
around them. When she emerged from the room, he spun her around and backed her
into a wall.
"I've been wanting to do this ever since I got here," he murmured,
tucking a finger beneath her chin and claiming her mouth. He raked his fingers
through her already-mussed hair and held her still, while his tongue plundered.
With his blood humming through his veins, he could have stayed right here, lost
in the taste and sensation of her kisses, but common sense had him drawing
away. He couldn't take a chance on the girls waking and catching them, not
until he and Abby had settled things between them.
He did take her hand, though, as they walked downstairs. "Your father
asked me my intentions toward you," he informed her as they headed for the
kitchen, rather than the porch where Mick and Gram were waiting.
Abby's gaze shot up. "So sorry," she said. "What did you tell
him?"
"That they're entirely honorable."
She regarded him with amusement. "He caught me coming in the other night,
so I doubt he believed that."
"I embellished a bit. He seemed content with what I had to say."
She paused as she was about to pour two glasses of tea. Her eyes filled with
suspicion. "Meaning?"
"Nothing you need to worry about. Just trying to soothe him before he
decided to break my jaw. You might have warned me that he was onto us, by the
way."
"I could have," she admitted. "Maybe I just wanted to see how
you'd handle yourself if he gave you a rough time."
Trace chuckled. "Then I'm sorry you missed the showdown."
She handed him one of the glasses, then took a sip from her own. "This is
getting complicated, isn't it? You and me, I mean. If it were just the two of
us, it might not, but there are all these other people to take into
account."
"No," he said at once. "It's between us, Abby. We're the only
ones who can decide if we can make each other happy."
She shook her head. "You know it's not that simple. The girls—"
"Will be happy as long as you are."
"You can't replace Wes in their lives," she said, though without much
vehemence.
"I'd never even try. For better or worse and despite my own low opinion of
him, he's their dad and that bond is unbreakable. I recognize that. I respect
it. My place in their lives will be whatever we decide makes sense."
"I saw you with them just now," she said. "They already adore you."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Of course not. It just adds to the complications. When we go our separate
ways—"
"We're not going our separate ways, Abby," he said heatedly.
"Not this time."
She blinked at the intensity of his response. "You sound so sure."
"I am sure and before too long, you'll be just as certain."
She seemed amused and vaguely troubled by his confidence. "You have a plan
to accomplish that?"
He nodded, grinning at her. "I do."
"Maybe you should give me a couple of hints now."
"So you can get all your defenses into place? I don't think so. You'll
just have to take my word for it for now." His gaze locked with hers.
"Can you do that? Can you give this a little more time, so it can play
out?"
She sighed and moved toward him. "When you look at me like that, I think I
could give you just about anything you ask for."
"Then how about one more kiss before we go outside and face another likely
inquisition?" he said, tilting her chin up so he could claim her mouth.
There was more than a little trust in that soul-searing kiss. There was hope
and maybe even the first fragile hint of the commitment he wanted more than
anything.