This Heart of Mine (15 page)

In the back of the cottage, nestling into the woods, was a screened porch. Bent-willow chairs leaned against the wall, and a hammock hung across one corner. She'd done more today than she'd done in weeks, and just looking at the hammock made her realize how tired she was.

She lowered herself into it. Above her the beaded-board ceiling was painted the same creamy yellow as the exterior of the house, with subtle dusty pink and blue accents along the moldings. What a wonderful place. Just like a nursery.

She closed her eyes. The hammock rocked her like a cradle. She was asleep almost instantly.

The Klingon greeted Kevin at the cottage door with a growl and bared teeth. "Don't start. I'm not in the mood."

He walked past the dog to the bedroom and set down Molly's suitcase, then made his way to the kitchen. She wasn't there, but Charlotte Long had seen her disappear inside, and he found her on the porch, asleep in the hammock. Her watchdog scampered past him to do guard duty. Kevin gazed down at her.

She looked small and defenseless. One hand curled under her chin, and a lock of dark brown hair fell over her cheek. Her lashes were thick, but not thick enough to hide the shadows under her eyes, and he felt guilty for the way he'd been bullying her. At the same time, something told him she wouldn't react well to coddling. Not that he could have coddled her anyway. He still had too much resentment.

His eyes skimmed along her body, then lingered. She wore bright red capri jeans and a rumpled yellow sleeveless blouse with one of those Chinese collars. When she was awake and being her normal smart-ass self, it was hard to see her showgirl ancestry, but asleep it was a different story. Her ankles were trim, her legs slim, and her hips had a nice soft curve. Beneath her blouse, her breasts rose and fell, and, through the open V, he caught a glimpse of black lace. His hand itched to pop open the buttons and see more.

His reaction disgusted him. As soon as he got back to Chicago, he'd better call an old girlfriend because it had clearly been too long since he'd had sex.

The Klingon must have been reading his mind because he started to growl at him, then barked.

Roo awakened her. Molly eased her eyes open, then sucked in her breath as she saw the shadow of a man looming over her. She tried to sit up too quickly, and the hammock tipped.

Kevin caught her before she could fall and set her on her feet. "Don't you ever think first?"

She brushed the hair from her eyes and tried to blink herself awake. "What do you want?"

"Next time tell me when you're going to disappear."

"I did." She yawned. "But you were too busy gaping at Mrs. Anderson's breasts to pay attention."

He pulled a bent-willow chair away from the wall and sat down on it. "That couple is completely worthless. The minute you turn your back on them, they're climbing all over each other."

"They're newlyweds."

"Yeah, well, so are we."

There was nothing she could say to that. She sank down on the metal glider, which was missing its cushions and very uncomfortable.

His expression grew calculating. "One thing I'll say about Amy, at least she supports her husband."

"The way he was holding her against the tree—"

"It's the two of them against the world. Working side by side. Helping each other out. A team."

"If you think you're being subtle, you're not."

"I need some help."

"I can't hear a word you're saying."

"Apparently I'm stuck with this place for the summer. I'll get somebody in here to run it as soon as I can, but until then…"

"Until then nothing." She rose from the glider. "I'm not doing it. The sex-crazy newlyweds can help you. And what about Charlotte Long?"

"She says she hates to cook, and she was only doing it because of Judith. Besides, a couple of the guests came looking for me, and all of them take a dim view of her efforts." He rose and started to pace, his restless energy buzzing like a bug zapper. "I offered them a refund, but when it comes to their vacations, people are completely unreasonable. They want the refund plus everything they were promised in that
Virginia
magazine."

"Victoria."

"Whatever. The point is, we're going to have to stay in this godforsaken place a little longer than I planned."

It wasn't godforsaken to her. It was charming, and she tried to make herself feel happy that they'd be here longer, but all she felt was empty.

"While you were taking your beauty rest, I went into town to put a Help Wanted ad in the local paper. I find out the place is so damn small the paper's a weekly, and it just came out today, so the next issue is seven days off! I put out the word with some of the locals, but I don't know how effective that's going to be."

"You think we'll be here a week?"

"No, I'll talk to people." He looked ready to take a bite out of something. "But I guess there's a chance if I can't find anyone until the ad's out. Not a big chance, but I suppose it could happen."

She sat on the glider. "I guess you'll be running a B&B until then."

He narrowed his eyes. "You seem to have forgotten that you took a vow to support me."

"I did not!"

"Did you pay any attention to those wedding vows you were saying?"

"I tried not to," she admitted. "I'm not in the habit of making promises I know I'm not going to keep."

"Neither am I, and so far I've kept my word."

"To love, honor, and obey? I don't think so."

"Those weren't the vows we took." He tucked his hands under his arms and watched her.

She tried to figure out what he was talking about, but her only memories of the ceremony were of the poodles and the way she'd held on to Andrew's sticky little hand for dear life. A sense of uneasiness crept through her. "Maybe you'd better refresh my memory."

"I'm talking about the vows Phoebe wrote for us," he said quietly. "Are you sure she didn't mention it to you?"

She'd mentioned it, but Molly'd been so miserable she hadn't paid attention. "I guess I wasn't listening."

"Well, I was. I even fixed a couple of the sentences to make them more realistic. Now, I might not have this exactly right—you can call your sister to verify—but the gist of it is that you, Molly, promised to accept me, Kevin, as your husband, at least for a while. You promised to give me your respect and consideration from that day forward. Notice there was no mention of love and honor. You promised not to speak badly of me to others." He eyed her. "And to support me in everything we share together."

Molly bit her lip. It was just like Phoebe to have written something like that. Of course she'd done it to protect the baby.

She pulled herself together. "Okay, you're a great quarterback. I can do the respect part. And if you don't count Phoebe, Dan, and Roo, I never speak badly of you to others."

"My eyes are tearing up from emotion. How about the other part? That 'support' thing?"

"That was supposed to be about—You know what it was about." She blinked her eyes and took a deep breath. "Phoebe certainly wasn't trying to force me into helping you run a B&B."

"Don't forget the cottages, and a sacred vow is just that."

"You kidnapped me yesterday, and now you're trying to manipulate me into forced labor!"

"It'll only be for a couple of days. A week at the most. Or maybe that's too much to ask from a rich girl."

"This is your problem, not mine."

He stared at her for a long moment, then that cold look settled over his face. "Yeah, I guess it is."

Kevin wasn't someone who asked for help easily, and she regretted her peevishness, but she couldn't be around people now. Still, she should have been more tactful about refusing him. "I just—I haven't been in great shape lately, and—"

"Forget it," he snapped. "I'll manage on my own." He stalked across the porch and out through the back door.

She stomped around the cottage for a while, feeling ugly and out of sorts. He'd brought in her suitcase. She unzipped it, only to go back out on the porch and stare at the lake.

Those wedding vows… She'd been prepared to break the traditional ones. Even couples who loved each other had a hard time living up to those. But these vows—the ones Phoebe had written—were different. These were vows that an honorable person should be able to keep.

Kevin had.

"Damn."

Roo looked up.

"I don't want to be with a lot of people now, that's all."

But she wasn't telling herself the whole truth. She mainly didn't want to be around
him
.

She glanced at her watch and saw that it was five o'clock.

With a grimace she gazed down at her poodle. "I'm afraid we have some personal character building to do."

Ten guests had gathered in the buttercup and rose parlor for afternoon tea, but somehow Molly couldn't imagine
Victoria
magazine giving the occasion its seal of approval. The inlaid table at the side of the room held an open bag of Oreos, a can of grape Hi-C, a coffeepot, Styrofoam cups, and a jar that looked as if it contained powdered tea. Despite the fare, the guests seemed to be enjoying themselves.

The bird-watching Pearsons stood behind a pair of elderly women perched on the pincushion settee. Across the room two white-haired couples chatted. The women's gnarled fingers flashed with old diamonds and newer anniversary rings. One of the men had a walrus mustache, the other lime green golf slacks with white patent leather shoes. Another couple was younger, in their early fifties perhaps, prosperous baby boomers who could have stepped out of a Ralph Lauren ad. It was Kevin, however, who dominated the room. As he stood by the fireplace, he looked so much like the lord of the manor that his shorts and Stars T-shirt might have been jodhpurs and a riding jacket.

"… so the president of the United States is sitting on the fifty-yard line, the Stars are down by four points, there are only seven seconds left on the clock, and I'm pretty sure I just sprained the heck out of my knee."

"That must have been painful," the boomer woman cooed.

"You don't notice the pain until later."

"I remember this game!" her husband exclaimed. "You hit Tippett on a fifty-yard post pattern, and the Stars won by three."

Kevin shook his head modestly. "I got lucky, Chet."

Molly rolled her eyes. Nobody made it to the top of the NFL trusting in luck. Kevin had gotten where he was by being the best. His good ol' boy act might charm the guests, but she knew the truth.

Still, as she watched him she knew she was seeing self-discipline in action, and she begrudgingly gave him her respect. No one suspected he hated being here. She'd forgotten that he was a minister's son, but she shouldn't have. Kevin was a man who did his duty, even though he hated it. Just as he'd done when he'd married her.

"I can't believe it," Mrs. Chet cooed. "When we chose a bed-and-breakfast in the wilds of northeastern Michigan, we never imagined our host would be the famous Kevin Tucker."

Kevin graced her with his aw-shucks expression. Molly wanted to tell her not to bother flirting with him, since she didn't have a foreign accent.

"I'd love to hear your take on the draft." Chet readjusted the navy cotton sweater he'd tossed around the shoulders of his kelly green polo shirt.

"How about the two of us share a beer out on the front porch later on tonight?"

"I wouldn't mind joining you," walrus mustache interjected, while lime green pants nodded in agreement.

"We'll all do it," Kevin said graciously.

John Pearson polished off the last of the Oreos. "Now that Betty and I know you personally, we'll have to start following the Stars. You, uh, wouldn't happen to have located one of Judith's lemon-poppy seed cakes in the freezer, would you?"

"I have no idea," Kevin said. "And that reminds me, I'd better apologize in advance for tomorrow's breakfast. Pancakes from a mix is the best I can do, so if you decide to leave, I'll understand. That offer for double your refund still stands."

"We wouldn't think about leaving such a charming place." Mrs. Chet gave Kevin a look that had adultery written all over it. "And don't worry about breakfast. I'll be glad to pitch in."

Molly did her part to protect the Ten Commandments by forcing herself out of the doorway and into the room. "That won't be necessary. I know Kevin wants you to relax while you're here, and I think I can promise that the food will be a little better tomorrow."

Kevin's eyes flickered, but if she expected him to fall at her feet from gratitude, he quickly disabused her of the notion with his introduction. "This is my estranged wife, Molly."

"She doesn't look strange," walrus mustache's wife said in a too-loud whisper to her friend.

"That's because you don't know her," Kevin murmured.

"My wife's a bit hard of hearing." Like the others, Mr. Mustache was obviously taken aback by Kevin's introduction. Several of those in the room regarded her curiously. The
People
spread…