A Week Till the Wedding Read online

Page 8


  He slammed the closet door on the guitar, the cell phone and the computer.

  It felt good. It felt really good.

  He couldn’t truthfully say that he had no second thoughts. There was the perfectly reasonable concept that if the company could do without him for two weeks they could do without him forever. He might not have a job to go back to. He didn’t think that would be the case, but in the corporate world anything was possible.

  In the end he decided he didn’t care. Maybe he’d change his mind in a few days, maybe he’d panic over the possibility that his company would find out he wasn’t indispensable. Maybe once he and Daisy were alone for an extended period of time, the echoes of the past would fade away and they’d be left with nothing.

  At the moment what he wanted more than anything was to concentrate on Daisy without distractions. Hudson-Dahlgren paid him an excellent salary and incredible bonuses. He enjoyed his work.

  But for the next two weeks, his project of choice was Daisy Bell.

  Chapter Six

  Daisy glanced in the rearview mirror. It wasn’t that she thought Mari might get lost, no. She just felt a little surge of much-needed comfort as she was reminded with a glance that she wasn’t alone.

  She drove Jacob’s rental car, and Mari followed in her own small pickup truck. Not only did Daisy have a way to get home without Jacob, once Sunday dinner was done, she felt as if she were going into battle with a staunch ally at her side. Until now she’d been on her own, one Bell against six Taskers. Those weren’t good odds for any Bell. There were only two of them today; they were still horribly outnumbered, but Daisy felt empowered. Mari might be slight and deceptively cute, but she was also blessed with determination and loyalty. She wouldn’t let her big sister down.

  Their weapons of choice for this particular battle were Mississippi Mud Cake and Cajun Shrimp Pasta Salad. Mari was a great baker; Daisy had made the pasta salad, which was tasty but simple to prepare. When it came to cooking, Daisy was a big fan of simple. She’d put the pasta salad together early that morning and then stuck it in the fridge to chill.

  They parked in front of the house, Daisy purposely choosing the parking space to the right, where there was a place for Mari to park directly beside her. She recognized Ben’s car, which had been pulled in slightly crooked as if he always took up two spaces with his flashy little car. The others were likely out back, parked in the separate garage. Today would be another small family gathering of familiar faces. Only this time, Daisy wasn’t alone. She had backup.

  For Sunday dinner Daisy had opted for long pants and a lightweight long-sleeve shirt, leaving as little skin as possible exposed. She wasn’t worried about what the Taskers thought about the way she dressed, wasn’t trying to make up for Lily’s scandalous little dress by covering up every inch of skin. She was just making sure there was nothing exposed for Jacob to touch.

  Even if she wanted that touch, she knew it was a bad idea. No matter how out of control they were, her hormones would not rule her. She was master of her own desires. Captain of a long-neglected body. She was in charge of her own hoohoo. It was not in charge of her.

  A thought that lasted until Jacob stepped onto the porch. No suit today, she noted. Jeans. A pullover shirt that clung to those muscles she wasn’t quite used to. His hair was a little mussed.

  This was the Jacob she remembered. Her heart lurched and thumped against her chest; for a moment she couldn’t breathe. How dare he? Where was the blasted suit that reminded Daisy that Jacob wasn’t hers anymore?

  Mari, huge Mississippi Mud Cake in hand, walked briskly up the steps and placed herself directly in front of Jacob. “Long time no see,” she said, smiling sweetly. And then she kicked him in the shin.

  He flinched, not because it was a particular violent attack, but because Mari had taken him by surprise. “What the hell was that for?”

  “As if you don’t know,” Mari said softly. She was smiling when she continued. “Hurt my sister again and I’ll gut you.”

  Jacob looked past Mari’s shoulder and caught Daisy’s eye as she came up the steps, the large bowl of pasta salad in her hands. “I think she means it.”

  “I do,” Mari said. Five foot two and not much more than a hundred pounds, she was surprisingly fierce. Lily might be the sister people thought could take a biker in a bar fight if necessary—she was tall and dark-haired (by choice, if not by birth) and sharp-tongued and had a low threshold for bull, and there had been a short period of time when she’d worn nothing but black—but it was Mari they should’ve been afraid of. She might look harmless, but beneath the Barbie-doll exterior she was tough as nails.

  Susan came to the door, and Mari scooted around Jacob to greet her and hand over the cake. Susan wasn’t surprised to see Mari. Naturally Daisy had called to ask if it was all right if her visiting sister tagged along. The two women exchanged hellos and smiles. The screen door squealed and then snapped shut behind them, as they stepped into the house.

  And there was no longer anyone between Daisy and Jacob. All that remained between them was a large bowl of pasta salad and her determination to remain in control. Daisy clung to both for dear life.

  “Y’all didn’t have to bring food,” Jacob said. “We have more than enough.”

  Daisy didn’t respond that he should’ve known they wouldn’t show up to Sunday dinner without bringing something. She stepped toward the house, toward him, steeling herself for the day ahead. “So, in spite of your insistence that the accent is gone, San Francisco hasn’t cured you of your ‘y’all.’”

  Jacob smiled. “I wasn’t home long before it came back.” When she reached him he took the bowl from her hands. Their fingers brushed, and lightning shot through Daisy’s body. She dipped her head, looked down at the boards beneath her feet so he couldn’t read the emotions on her face.

  The truth wasn’t easy to accept. In fact, it was damn hard. Standing there with her heart in her throat, Daisy accepted the ugly truth. In spite of all her affirmations and determination, when it came to Jacob she wasn’t in control of anything.

  * * *

  To Jacob’s relief, there was no talk of weddings or wedding gowns over the dining room table. Maybe Grandma Eunice was distracted because Mari was there, and goodness knows this could not possibly be the same very young girl she remembered. Maybe Grandma Eunice was still sharp enough to realize that there was a reason Daisy hadn’t been to the house for a couple of days, and she’d wisely decided not to push—for once. She likely wouldn’t guess that Jacob had scared Daisy off with a hand up her very short dress, but she might assume there was trouble in the fictional paradise she’d created.

  Strangely enough, it was Mari and Maddy who dominated the conversation. They didn’t talk about the reunion or Tasker family business or the wedding. Instead they talked about people they both knew. Maddy was a couple of years older than Mari, but they had several acquaintances in common. And then they started talking about football. Yes, even in June college football was an acceptable topic of conversation at the dinner table. The others soon joined in the discussion, and everyone had an opinion. They talked about coaches and players and the fall schedule. Ben and Susan both made predictions about win-loss records. They were both very optimistic. It was nice; nothing was forced or false and there was lots of laughter around the table. Jacob was able to relax. After a while, so did Daisy. It was good to see her genuine smile, to watch her unwind, to hear her laugh.

  When dinner was over, Jacob pushed his chair back and offered Daisy a hand. He wasn’t sure she’d take it, but she did. Tentatively, and after a pause the space of a heartbeat, but she wasn’t afraid to touch him.

  “Walk with me?” he said, imagining a stroll around the property. Alone. He wanted to have Daisy to himself, even if it was just for a few minutes. The courting process had to begin somewhere....

  “I can’t.” She slipped her hand from his, slowly, and then hid it behind her back as if he wouldn’t dare to reach for her if he
couldn’t see that hand. “Mari is heading back to school this afternoon, and she needs to get packed and on the road.”

  “She can’t pack without you?”

  “I told her I’d help. Besides, she’s my ride home.”

  “I’ll be your ride.” It was an offer touched with command. Not a question, but a very polite order.

  “No, thank you.” Her response was delivered in a calm voice, so sweet and unmistakably insistent.

  He should’ve remembered that Daisy had always hated being told what to do. She could dig in her heels with the best of them. How the hell was he supposed to court her if she wouldn’t spend even a few minutes alone with him?

  Mari glared at him and mouthed, Remember what I said. Then, for effect, she drove an imaginary knife into her own stomach and stuck her tongue out in a brief, expressive demonstration of his upcoming, violent demise. The entire warning, if you could call it that, took less than five seconds, and if anyone else saw her they didn’t let it show.

  Of course, Grandma Eunice was the only one who needed to be fooled, and she was being wheeled out of the dining room. She always took an afternoon nap, and today she appeared to be fading fast.

  “We really should go,” Mari said as she rounded the table to collect her sister. “Remember, we need to call the critter man this afternoon.”

  “The critter man?” Jacob asked.

  “Sammy Jenkins?” Mari said, as if he was an idiot for not knowing who the critter man was.

  “I have squirrels in my attic,” Daisy explained. “Mari and I both heard them last night, scurrying above our heads.” She shuddered, a little. “Sammy doesn’t work on Sundays, but he will take calls in the afternoon and set up appointments for next week.”

  “I didn’t realize critter men were in such demand,” Jacob said.

  “You wake up to the sound of little paws dancing a jig overhead and you’ll understand why,” Daisy said.

  Maybe this could be his way in. “There’s no need to wait. I’d be happy to take care of your squirrels.”

  Mari laughed. So did Maddy.

  “What’s so funny?” Jacob snapped.

  “Jacob Tasker, critter man trainee?” Mari said. “Yeah, like you’d get your hands dirty crawling into the attic.”

  How hard could it be? “I’d be happy to help, and I do work on Sundays.”

  “No, thanks,” Daisy said, without her sister’s venom or humor.

  “But I could...”

  Daisy glanced around the room and then lowered her voice. “Eunice isn’t here, Jacob. We don’t have to pretend for anyone else.”

  Those who remained in the room—Ben, Maddy and Mari—went still and quiet. Maybe they’d forgotten that this was all pretend. Maybe they could hear the pain in Daisy’s voice the way he did. It was enough to put a man on his ass.

  How could he convince her he was no longer certain he was pretending?

  Not here, not now.

  “Oh, your dishes,” Maddy said. “Let’s wash them up real quick...”

  “I’ll get them later,” Daisy said. She backed away, obviously anxious to leave. No, not to leave, to escape.

  To escape him.

  “Gotta go!” Mari took Daisy’s arm and they left the dining room together, their steps quick as if they really were escaping. And he supposed they were. It was Mari who glanced back, once, to stick out her tongue and flash a particular finger in his direction.

  Jacob couldn’t help but wonder exactly what time Mari would be headed back to school.

  * * *

  Finally they were gone! Eunice had pretended to be asleep, but her daughter-in-law had hung around for a few minutes, sitting in the chair by the bed, sighing now and then.

  Perhaps she should feel guilty for putting the family through all this drama. Maybe one day, after Jacob and Daisy were married and had a child or two, she’d confess and they’d all have a good laugh.

  Eunice rolled up and reached for her bedside phone. She dialed the number she’d memorized. A man answered.

  “Is everything in place?” she asked, her voice lowered in case anyone was in the hallway outside her door.

  “Yes, but Ms. Tasker, are you sure...”

  “If I wasn’t sure would I be calling you?” She put a command she’d worked years to master into her voice. If you looked up Steel Magnolia in the dictionary, you might find her picture there.

  “No, ma’am, but...” The man wisely stopped speaking, and then he sighed into the phone. That sigh really carried over the phone lines.

  “Do it,” Eunice said sharply, “or I’ll find someone else who will. I want everything to be put into motion this week. This needs to happen immediately.” Anyone who had ever worked with or for her knew that if she wanted something, it happened. Maybe she didn’t have a controlling interest in the business any longer, but she did control a large portion of the family fortune, and her reputation made it difficult for many old business acquaintances to refuse her requests.

  She hung up the phone without a proper goodbye, leaving the man on the other end of the call sputtering a bit.

  Eunice lay back down and relaxed. She smiled as she drifted toward sleep. By God, this was going to happen. One way or another...

  * * *

  Mari was gone, and the house was oddly quiet again. Even the squirrels in her attic were silent as dusk settled and the light in the house dimmed. Daisy had taken off her good clothes hours earlier, and had put on a pair of cutoff shorts and a blue tank top—an outfit more suitable for the late-June weather. She should be thinking about putting together a light supper, but she wasn’t hungry. She’d eaten too much at dinnertime.

  Then again, maybe her lack of appetite was Jacob’s fault. He had her turned inside out and upside down. As far as she was concerned, she could even blame him for the squirrels that had taken up residence in her attic. After all, she hadn’t had any trouble with critters before Jacob had come back to town.

  The knock on the door made her jump. Without looking through the glass, without asking “Who’s there?” she knew who it was. It was as if when Jacob was near her body shifted into another gear.

  If she opened the door and it was someone else, would she be relieved or disappointed? Did she want Jacob to be on her front porch? She did, even though she knew that letting him into her house was the worst thing she could do. Or the best. No, it would definitely be a bad idea!

  She could refuse to answer, simply pretend she wasn’t at home. She could yell at him to go away, and take the chance that she was right about who had rung her doorbell. If she prepared herself, she might even be able to sound as if she meant it.

  She did neither of those things.

  Daisy opened the door on a Jacob who reminded her too vividly of the boy she’d once loved. Tonight there was no suit, no preppy golf shirt. Even his posture had changed a bit, as if he’d finally remembered that he was home, and relaxed. He was still wound pretty tight, just not as tightly as he’d been the day he’d walked into her shop and asked for the favor that would turn her life upside down. He held a large woven sack in one hand, and a small paper bag in the other.

  “Your dishes,” he said, lifting the well-worn woven sack. He raised up the paper bag. “Strawberry sundaes.”

  Daisy hesitated a moment before she backed farther into the house, opening the door wide, silently asking Jacob to come inside. For a moment she actually convinced herself that they could share a strawberry sundae and then she’d send him on his way, but that delusion didn’t last long.

  It didn’t last long at all.

  Chapter Seven

  Jacob hadn’t been sure what kind of reception he’d get when he showed up at Daisy’s door unannounced. Since his return to Bell Grove, she’d never been exactly happy to see him. But if he was going to court her, if he was going to try to reignite an old flame for the next two weeks, that would have to change.

  So many emotions passed across her face when she opened the door to him, he wasn’t
certain he could register them all. Annoyance, anger, resignation, lust. Maybe the lust that seemed to flicker in her eyes was wishful thinking on his part. Maybe he used her as a mirror for his own emotions.

  She invited him inside—a good sign, he thought—took the sack of dishes from his hand and set them down. After a moment’s hesitation she took the sack of sundaes, too, and carefully placed it on the coffee table.

  And then Daisy surprised him. She stepped into him, wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body to his as she lifted her mouth to his and kissed him. There was no hesitation in the kiss, or in the way she melded to him. There was no uncertainty or anger in the mouth that devoured, in the tongue that danced. She was soft and certain, warm and gentle.

  For a split second he was taken back to a time when he and Daisy had been together, when kisses like this one had been an everyday pleasure. But the flashback didn’t last. That was then, this was now. And now was fine. Very fine. They were both different. Older, if not necessarily wiser. The past seven years had changed them both, had shaped the people they’d become. This wasn’t an echo, it was something new. New and powerful.

  Jacob’s rational thoughts drifted away as he was swept up in the kiss, in the sensation of Daisy’s hands on his neck and in his hair, in the feel of her soft, warm body against his, in the way her mouth and his connected. One small, soft hand slipped just beneath his shirt. Her fingers swayed there, matching the rhythm of her mouth. The kiss deepened; her breathing changed. He was lost, caught up in that place where nothing mattered but touching her.

  If she stopped, she was going to kill him.

  As that thought flitted through what was left of his brain, she did stop. She pulled her mouth from his—slowly, and with a reluctance he tasted—dropped her arms, and took one step away. It was all Jacob could do not to grab her and pull her back. He didn’t. Instead he fisted his hands and took a deep breath. If this was her idea of torture, it was successful. He was definitely tortured.