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Authors: Linda Winstead Jones

Tags: #Romance

A Week Till the Wedding (5 page)

BOOK: A Week Till the Wedding
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And her life wasn’t new at all. It was old and familiar. Bell Grove was home and she belonged here. She didn’t need or
want
her life to be new and exciting.

She pushed off with a toe and swung lightly, hoping the gentle movement would soothe her jangled nerves. Having the past thrown in her face without warning forced her to look long and hard at the present. The truth of the matter was, she thought about Jacob entirely too much. That’s why she hadn’t had a serious relationship since they’d broken up. That’s why she never had more than two dates with the same guy, why she found something wrong with every man who expressed an interest in her. She wasn’t as pretty as Lily, but she wasn’t exactly a troll, either. She could’ve had several serious relationships in the past few years, if she’d wanted to. She might even have found a man who’d make a good husband and father. And it took having Jacob right under her nose to allow her to see what she’d done.

Sitting in that porch swing alone, Daisy could see that she’d put her life on hold for a man who didn’t deserve it. Where romance was concerned she was marking time, stagnant, stuck in a rut. A man was really all her life lacked. A man was the only thing Bell Grove had not been able to provide. How incredibly stupid! She couldn’t give up the opportunity to build a family of her own just because her first love had disappointed her.

That’s all Jacob was; her first love. Not her last, not her only. She didn’t try to fool herself into thinking that she’d never loved him. She had. Deeply and completely. But that was then and this was now. Somehow her
now
had gone seriously askew. If this little charade—painful as it was—helped her to truly put Jacob in her past where he belonged, then it would be worthwhile.

He must’ve heard her leaving the house, because she hadn’t been in the swing long before Jacob stepped onto the porch. Of course he knew just where she was. The gentle squeak of the porch swing, as she pushed herself back and forth with her toe, was a dead giveaway.

“Sorry,” he said when he saw her there.

For so many things
... She didn’t go there. What was the point? “Not your fault.”
This time
. “Bless her heart, one minute she seems just fine and the next she’s completely befuddled.”

“Yeah.” Jacob walked toward her, and for a moment she wondered if he would sit beside her on the swing. It was more than big enough for two, but she wished, very hard, that he wouldn’t make that move. She didn’t want him that close; she didn’t want that stark reminder of the old days.

The old days were gone, and there was no getting them back. Now all she had to do was convince herself that she didn’t want them back.

He stopped a few feet away, almost as if he’d had the same thought. “I didn’t know about the...the...”

“Wedding,” she said briskly, providing the word he apparently could not.

“She’ll forget about it.” It sounded like an order, as if he thought he could sway an old woman’s memory by will alone.

“And if she doesn’t?”

He didn’t have an answer for that question.

Daisy couldn’t be too angry with Jacob, much as she wanted to. He was a career-focused, ambitious workaholic who’d let her go when keeping her had become inconvenient. He’d chosen his career over her. He hadn’t loved her enough to sacrifice his grand plans for her. Family obligation had kept her here, while a job opportunity had taken him far, far away. They hadn’t been able to make her need to provide a familiar home for her sisters and his desire for a new career to work together. He’d moved on, and he hadn’t looked back, and she shouldn’t hate him because he’d managed to do what she could not.

But he loved his grandmother and would apparently do anything to make her final days good ones. Maybe he did have a heart under that expensive suit, after all. That heart just wasn’t meant for her.

“So,” she said softly. “How’s your life?”

He seemed surprised that she asked. “Good. Busy, but good. You?”

“Spectacular,” she said, her voice low. “I like my life. I
love
my life.” Maybe if she said it often enough she’d be able to gloss over the lack of romance in her almost-perfect life.

“Good.”

Daisy wished she was the kind of woman who could purposely hurt someone who had hurt her. She wished she could tell Jacob how ecstatically happy she was, how active her sex life was, how she’d never wanted for a man’s attention in the past seven years, how she hadn’t missed him at all. But while she could lie to protect an old woman, she couldn’t make herself lie to purposely cause pain.

As if he cared...

Jacob looked at Daisy as if he were seeing her for the first time. When she caught his eye he didn’t turn away, didn’t try to pretend that he wasn’t studying her as if he could see beneath her skin. He looked at her with an intensity that was so much a part of the man she’d once loved.

“I’d forgotten,” he said.

“Forgotten what?” she asked, her heart skipping a beat.

“I’d forgotten how you get to me.” He looked her in the eye, shifted slightly as if suddenly uncomfortable in his own skin, though he still didn’t turn away or drop his eyes. And Daisy could see what was coming so clearly it hurt. He’d get to
her;
they’d end up in bed; he’d break her heart all over again.

And she could
not
allow that to happen.

Chapter Three

P
erhaps he’d made a mistake when he’d let Daisy go. He hadn’t had a choice, he couldn’t see how his life could’ve unfolded in any other way, but dammit, had he made a mistake?

This was the thought that plagued Jacob as he pulled his rental car to a stop in front of Daisy’s home. He never second-guessed his decisions, never looked back and wondered.

The sooner he finished up here and got out of town, the better off he’d be.

Daisy still lived in the house she’d grown up in, a yellow cottage a mere five blocks from the shop where she worked. The house was square and wide and one-story, with a large wraparound porch complete with a pair of matching white rockers and healthy ferns. The yard was dotted with ancient trees; the branches intertwined overhead, and while he couldn’t see it from here he imagined there was still a vegetable garden out back.

Her car was parked in the driveway, but instead of pulling in behind it he stopped at the curb. A concrete sidewalk ran in front of her house, and a leg of that sidewalk shot from the street to her front porch. This was a neighborhood where the residents walked, both for exercise and for more practical reasons, where they visited one another—on special occasions and sometimes for no reason at all. Both sidewalks saw a lot of wear. Or at least, they once had. He imagined that hadn’t changed.

Daisy’s entire life was right here, a general store, doctor’s office, pharmacy—and her work—within easy walking distance, while he flew from one time zone to another on a regular basis. He was good at what he did, a whiz with numbers and an unshakable faith in his own instincts. The men he worked for trusted his instincts, too. They trusted him with billions of dollars in investments, and he hadn’t let them down yet. In fact, he’d made them all lots and lots of money.

In the early days they’d called him a whiz kid. These days he was a highly valued member of a company that continued to grow, in large part thanks to him. And what had it gotten him? Insomnia. An almost nonexistent social life. And a fat bank account.

The second he stopped the car at the curb Daisy threw open the door and jumped out, as if she couldn’t wait to escape. He should wave, let her go and hurry home. But instead he shut down the engine, jumped out of the car and followed her.

She glanced over her shoulder as his car door slammed. She was not happy. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Walking you to the door.”

“If a man in a suit follows me around my neighbors are going to think someone is suing me for a bad haircut, or maybe the tax man is after me.”

“The tax man? Really?”

“Shoo,” she said, waving her fingers in his direction.

He ignored her dismissive order and took two long steps to catch up with her. “What’s your problem with the suit?”

She didn’t look at him. Her chin was in the air, her hair whipped as she glanced in the opposite direction. “I have no problem with what you wear. I don’t care
at all
what you wear.”

“Then why have you mentioned the damn suit so often?”

“It’s summertime in the Deep South,” she said. “Unless you’re headed to church or a funeral, the suit is downright unnatural.”

Daisy stopped in front of her porch steps, then spun around to face him. She was no longer trying to avoid him. No, instead she looked him in the eye, unflinching. She was stronger than he remembered. Tougher. “On second thought, wear a suit every day for all I care. It will serve as a constant reminder that you don’t belong here.”

“I don’t need a constant reminder that I don’t belong here.” No, he’d felt it every second of every day.

“Neither do I.” She took a step back and up, onto the bottom step.

Jacob matched her step, moving forward but not up. He wasn’t ready to let her move away. They were nose to nose, now, eye to eye. “Then who am I supposed to be reminding?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care.”

“You’re not making any sense at all....”

“I don’t have to make sense if I don’t want to.”

Jacob shook his head. “When did we start arguing?”

“Seven years ago,” Daisy snapped.

Jacob reached out, took her face in his hands, stepped into her space and kissed her. He wasn’t sure why, he just couldn’t help himself. He had to kiss her; he had to press his mouth to hers. He’d thought her scent was maddening, but her taste...he had forgotten...how the hell had he forgotten this...

She tensed for a moment then she melted. Her lips molded to his, her eyes closed and they kissed. Long and soft and easy.

He never should’ve let her go.

She tasted so good, so warm and right. Her face in his hands was soft, and he loved holding her almost as much as he loved kissing her. She kissed him back, well and deeply. She leaned toward him, into him and when he swept his tongue just inside her mouth she gasped and moaned and deepened the kiss. The years melted away, the miles that had come between them no longer mattered.

Daisy pulled away from him sharply. Her lips were swollen and wet, her eyes wide and surprised. Was she surprised by the kiss, or by her response?

“Don’t do that again,” she ordered, backing up the front porch steps, toward the front door and escape.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s a very bad idea.”

He didn’t follow her onto the porch; he’d pushed his luck enough for one day.

“Tomorrow night,” he reminded her. “Lemon cake and chicken and dumplings.”

“Surely Miss Eunice will forget all about those plans by tomorrow morning,” Daisy said as she stopped by the front door and grabbed her house keys out of her small purse. “I hope,” she added beneath her breath.

“If she doesn’t...”

“She
will,
” Daisy said, almost as if she was commanding it to be so.

“Maybe. Probably.” Jacob stood on the walk for several minutes after Daisy had closed the front door. When he’d heard about his grandmother’s condition and decided to come home for a long visit, he hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected to have the past come to life again, to look at Daisy and suffer a deep regret for what he’d lost.

He shook his head, as if he could shake off unwanted thoughts, and turned around sharply to make his escape. Coming home had been a mistake. He’d had his reasons, and it was too late to turn back now. But the truth of the matter was, his life was no longer here in Bell Grove. It hadn’t been for a very long time. Daisy and the reactions she elicited were a part of another life, and no matter how pleasant—and frustrating—it was to see her again, he had to remember to leave her in the past. Where she belonged.

* * *

Daisy didn’t think she’d be able to sleep, after everything that had happened in the past twenty hours, but after Jacob dropped her at home she slept amazingly well. She dreamed about the kiss, which was very annoying because in her dream that kiss didn’t end too soon. In her dream she got a lot more than a kiss from Jacob. She woke with a start, sweating and shaking and most of all angry with herself for allowing her badly neglected physical needs to wipe away every ounce of common sense. First the kiss, then the dream. Where was her self-control? Why couldn’t she just be angry with him and leave it at that?

She should’ve bolted when he’d moved in for a kiss. She could have. Should have. But she’d wanted that kiss so much, and at that moment the want had been a lot stronger than her sense of what she
should
do.

Her dad had always been philosophical. Everything happened for a reason, he’d said on numerous occasions. There was a purpose in every heartbreak, in every decision, in every coincidence. She’d dismissed that way of thinking for a long time, because she hadn’t been able to believe that her parents had died for some lofty reason that she didn’t understand.

But as she walked to work she convinced herself that Jacob had returned to Bell Grove for a specific purpose, that Miss Eunice had lost her mind to put Daisy in this very position. Why? Easy. So she could get over Jacob once and for all and move on with her life.

They’d never had it out, had never really ended their relationship. They’d simply drifted apart, fallen into lives so different there was just no way to make them mesh. If she ever wanted to move on she had to get over Jacob, once and for all. Oh, she’d insisted to anyone who would listen that she’d gotten over him years ago, she’d even convinced herself, for a while. But now she knew that was a lie. If she’d really gotten over him, the unfortunate kiss wouldn’t have affected her the way it had. Looking at Miss Eunice’s wedding dress wouldn’t have given her shivers. As well as a bout of unexpected nausea, if she were being completely honest.

She should have a few days to come up with a plan. As bad as her memory was these days, Miss Eunice had surely already forgotten about chicken and dumplings and lemon cake. What were the odds that she’d also forget that her grandson and Daisy were “engaged”? Daisy could hope, but the engagement seemed to be a thing Miss Eunice had grabbed on to, and she likely wasn’t going to let it go easily. There was such joy on her face as she planned a wedding that would never take place.

BOOK: A Week Till the Wedding
13.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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