The Holiday Bride (5 page)

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Chapter Four

Lucy was called out of deep slumber by a piercing white
light. She sat up with a start to find William hovering above her with a flashlight.
“What are you doing?” she asked, pulling the covers to her chest.

“Checking your pupils.” He grimaced apologetically.
“Doctor’s orders.”

Of course, she remembered now. That part, anyway. “Sorry,”
she said, settling back on the pillow and opening her eyes wide. “I forgot.”

He angled the beam toward her, causing her to squint.

“Still nothing doing on the memory?” he asked.

She blinked as he turned off the flashlight. “Not a thing. I
mean, other than everything that’s happened here.”

“Hmm.”

She watched him study her as fine light filtered in through
the window. “Is that the moon out there?”

“Lucky for you, we’ve had a break in the storm,” he said
with a smile. “I’m sure I’ll be able to get the SUV out tomorrow.”

“Oh,” she said, wondering why that notion depressed her. Of
course she wanted to go the doctor and learn what was wrong with her. This
wasn’t her house; it was theirs. And they likely wanted her out of it as soon
as possible. She brought her hand to her cheek, mildly pained at the thought.
Why did the idea of feeling unwanted ring so familiar?

“Bridget,” he said, as her solitaire glinted in the
moonlight. “There
is
a man in your
life, isn’t there? Somebody waiting for you?”

“I’d like to think so, yes,” she said, unable to resist the
ache in her heart.

His gaze lingered on hers and for a moment she suspected his
heart ached, too.

“That’s what I figured,” he said.

“William?”

“Yes?”

“What’s that disgusting thing you do with chocolate?”

He bellowed a laugh. “Your memory’s not all bad, now is it?
I’ll never tell.” He stood from where he’d sat on the edge of the bed. “Now,
lie back down and get some rest. I’ll be back to check on you in an hour.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes,” he said in a way that made her believe it. His eyes
trailed to a photo of a pretty brunette on the nightstand. He picked up the
frame a bit awkwardly, and took it with him. “I’ll just... move this
downstairs,” he said.

Lucy snuggled under the covers, thinking what a happy woman
she must have been to have someone like William for a husband. “William?” she
said, as he slowly shut the door.

He paused and looked at her, picture frame in hand.

“Thanks.”

William sat on the living room sofa with a guilty
heart. He’d brought a pillow and a blanket downstairs and had taken care to
wear a robe, as he knew he’d be checking on Bridget later. He lifted Karen’s
photo from the coffee table and addressed it as if she were there. “You don’t
know how much I miss you. How badly all of us do...”

His gaze slowly panned toward the stairs. Here he was with another
woman in the bed that he and Karen had shared. Although it wasn’t like he was
up there
with
her. William swallowed hard, trying not to imagine what
that might be like, he and Bridget together. She was so soft and womanly, with
that curvaceous body and those sensuous lips. And her eyes were as blue as the
heavens. They were an angel’s eyes, really.

William fretfully stared down at the photo in his hands.
“Forgive me, honey. I didn’t mean it. There could never be anybody for me but
you. I could never go there. Not in a million years... Not unless the gods sent
me an earth-shattering sign.” He settled down on the sofa, laying the frame
facedown on the floor beside him. “Like that’s going to happen.”

William awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon frying
and coffee brewing. He quickly sat up and swung his feet to the floor, trying
to place where he was. The living room, that’s right. That’s where he’d slept,
or gotten some semblance of sleep anyhow. Not that he regretted going up to
check on Bridget. In fact, he’d sort of looked forward to it. Didn’t matter
that he’d had to set his cell to wake him hour after hour. The truth was, even
when he’d been sleeping, she’d occupied his dreams. Once or twice, he’d
awakened with a start because he’d thought he’d felt his arms around her. In
reality, it had just been a throw pillow. William felt himself flush at having
these thoughts, especially in light of his late-night promise to Karen.

He stood and something crunched under his slippered feet.
William looked down in horror to see he’d smashed the glass on Karen’s picture
frame. He sat back down and lifted the broken frame in his hands. Karen’s
smiling face gazed back at him.
“An
earth-shattering sign?”
he mused.
 
No way. No earthly way. Clearly it was coincidental, him breaking the
glass.

Noises sounded from the kitchen. Someone was cooking in
there. William carefully picked the errant shards off of the carpet and set
them on the broken frame, which he laid on the coffee table. Then, he slipped
on his robe and headed to the kitchen to investigate.

Lucy whisked about the open space, attempting to put
together a very fine breakfast.
 
She
had bacon on the stove and bread in the toaster. Next, to find the eggs. She
whirled toward the refrigerator, nearly colliding with William as he entered
the room.

“Good morning!” he said with surprise. His gaze traveled to
her bare legs and quickly back up to her eyes. He’d left her one of his shirts
to sleep in, but plainly had forgotten about it until he saw her wearing it
skimming her thighs, its cuffs rolled up. Lucy had washed out her short dress
and it was hanging to dry in the bathroom. That, along with her undies. She’d
planned to dash back upstairs and get dressed before the family had awakened. A
rash of heat enveloped her as she feared for a second that William might know
she’d gone Commando. But no, that was silly! He couldn’t possibly guess. He
didn’t have X-ray vision.

“Hello,” she said smiling tightly. His eyes really were
flecked with gold, she could see that quite clearly now, and my, were they
gorgeous. A man built like that was particularly dangerous in a robe, not to
mention that sexy morning stubble. Lucy’s knees buckled slightly, and he
reached out a hand to steady her.

“Bridget?”

What was it about that name that still felt wrong. “Huh?”
she said, noting his waist tie had come loose and his robe gaped slightly.
Beneath it he wore plaid pajama pants and no shirt, just a broad and muscled
chest sporting a perfect smattering of light brown hair.

“Are you sure you should be up doing all this?” he asked,
glancing around.

“Oh yes, I really am!” she said, turning toward the
coffeepot, needing to redirect. “I’m feeling so much better. Honestly.”
What
had she been doing ogling William’s
pecs? Is that the sort of woman she was? One that took advantage of every
opportunity to pounce on a man? She had pounced before, hadn’t she? She lifted
a mug to pour, spotting the ring on her hand. Of course she had, rightly so.
“Coffee?” she asked weakly.

“Coffee would be super, thanks.” He glanced down and saw
that his robe had slipped. “Sorry,” he said a bit uncomfortably, before retying
it and covering that marvelous chest.

She handed him the mug and he took a sip. “Delicious, thank
you.”

“As long as I was the first one up, I thought I’d make
breakfast.”

“I still don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to be so
active.”

“Why don’t we let the doctor be the one to decide about
that?”

“All right.” He studied her thoughtfully over the rim of his
mug. “This is really nice. I haven’t had anyone make coffee for me since... in
a very long time.”

Fine lines creased his brow, and Lucy suspected he was
remembering his late wife. “I’m really sorry about your wife, William. Has it
been long?”

He pursed his lips a beat, then met her eyes. “Karen died of
ovarian cancer three years ago. It came on very quickly. There was nothing the
doctors could do.”

The pain in his eyes was unmistakable. He clearly wasn’t
over it. But then, how could he be? What an awful thing that must be, to lose
someone... Lucy felt a sharp tightness in her chest, stirring some recognition.
“You loved her very much, didn’t you?” she asked softly.

“More than she knew.”

Lucy hated to think of someone as wonderful as William being
alone. Certainly there were boatloads of women who would eagerly snap him up.
“You’ll find somebody else. One day. Don’t you think? I mean, some day when
you’re ready.”

“To tell you the truth, I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Well, Carmella apparently has. And I’m betting Justin has,
too.”

“Justin?”

“Boys his age need a woman to talk to just as much as a
father.”

He set down his mug and leaned into the counter. “How do you
know so much about kids and family?”

“Probably from watching too much late-night television,” she
said, laughing.
 

“The Classics Channel?” he asked with pleased surprise.

“Why, yes! That’s right! I know it is!” She stared at him
and grinned. “You mean, you watch those shows, too?”

“Well, sure.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, when the kids
are with me and they insist.”

Lucy struggled with a murky memory, the odd refrain coming
back to her. “But real life isn’t like fairy tales.”

William blinked, then asked with mock offense, “Who told you
that?”

This part, Lucy knew absolutely. “Gus!”

“Gus? Who’s Gus?”

“I don’t know. Someone from my past. Yes, that name. It’s
important, for certain.”

William drew nearer. “Your father? Brother? Fiancé...?”

Lucy felt mildly sick to her stomach. “Fiancé? No!”

“Well then?”

“Argh! This is driving me nuts! It’s like something’s right
around the corner, but I can’t quite grasp it. None of this makes sense. How
can I remember the Classics Channel and not even recall my own name?”

“It’s Bridget, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

“I have no idea, sweetheart. But I can tell you one thing.
Whatever that old cynic Gus had to say was way off base.”

She watched him wide-eyed, still stuck on the fact that he’d
called her sweetheart.
Sweetheart
.
Ooh, she liked the sound of that, especially coming from his warm, expressive
mouth. Was she swooning? Was that even a word?

“Because let me tell you something, “ he continued, stepping
closer, “when a guy finally meets the right girl, the whole world becomes a
fairy tale.”

Their eyes locked and Lucy’s heart skipped a beat. Yep. She
could buy that, every word of it, and she was staring straight at a prince.

“Bridget?” he asked, his gaze diving into her. He smelled so
good and manly, like sandalwood and spice. Oh God, she didn’t remember this.
Couldn’t recall ever feeling this way. Surely, she would recall emotions like
this.

“Huh?”

“Do you smell something burning?”

 
A smoke alarm
blared and Lucy brought her hands to her head and yelped. Black smoke curled
from the toaster, which immediately burst into flames. “Oh no!” A split second
later, the frying pan caught fire.

William looked around in shock. “Jesus.” He raced beside the
refrigerator and yanked a fire extinguisher from its holder on the wall. In a
flash, he’d pulled its pin and doused the toaster and the whole stove in white
foam.

An hour later, Lucy sat in a family-style breakfast place
with William, Carmella, and Justin. The snow had let up long enough for the
plows to get through, and the one-lane bridge leading to the Kinkaids’ suburban
neighborhood had been cleared. The day’s forecast called for nothing more than
light flurries.

“I still don’t understand why we couldn’t have breakfast at
home,” Justin complained.

Carmella looked up from the kiddie placemat she’d been
coloring with crayons. “Because the elves didn’t build in cooking skills,
silly.”

Lucy turned toward the little girl. “Build in?”

“Sure, you know, like how some dolls have built-in talking
machines. Things like that.”

Justin eyed Lucy suspiciously over his glass of orange
juice. “Yeah, and others are made plain lucky.”

William shot Justin a stern look. “I’ll ask you to remember
your manners.”

A waitress appeared with a notepad and Lucy felt a twinge of
familiarity. “Do I know you?” she asked, puzzling at the woman.

The gal, who looked to be in her fifties, turned her eyes on
Lucy. “Don’t think so, love.” She returned her attention to the table. “You
folks ready to order?”

“Bridget?” William prodded.

“I’m not really sure what I’d like. Why don’t you all go
first?”

Justin set aside his menu. “I’ll have the Western Omelet
with extra sausage and hash browns.”

“I’d like the chocolate chip kids stack,” Carmella said.
“With bacon.”

William twisted his lips, scrutinizing the menu. “Could you
make mine the tall stack of blueberry pancakes?” He glanced sheepishly at the
waitress. “And bring some chocolate syrup, please?”

Lucy abruptly set down her water, sloshing it sideways.
“Make that two of those!” Her eyes met William’s. “With whipped cream.”

His jaw dropped, before his lips tugged into a grin. “Can’t
forget the whipped cream,” he told the astounded waitress.

“Are you folks serious?” she asked with a disgusted look.

Lucy and William locked eyes.

“Yes,” she said.

“Most definitely,” William followed.

“Suit yourselves,” their waitress said, “just don’t expect
me to bring the Tums.”

She departed as William stared at Lucy, dumbfounded. “I
can’t believe you like your pancakes that way.”

“But only on blueberry,” she said, feeling herself smile.