Saved by the Bride (23 page)

Chapter Thirteen

When Bridey saw Hank come downstairs the next morning
wearing sunglasses, she silently handed him a glass of tomato juice and a
handful of Vitamin B tablets. He’d crashed before dinner and had slept twelve
hours straight. “What were you thinking?”

He took a sip of the juice, shuddered and put the glass on the
table as he gingerly sat on a chair. “Don’t start, Bridey.”

He looked so unwell that she should have been sympathetic, but
the unusual warning tone in his voice only ramped up her anger that had been
simmering all night. She was furious with him, and her mother, for their
impromptu lawn party that had ended up with her assisting both of them into
their respective beds.

She folded her arms. “Not drinking on an empty stomach is
something they teach you at high school.”

Hank’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I called in to see your mother
who’d been expecting you or Finn. It was obvious she had cabin fever so I
offered to set her up outside so she could enjoy the view, the breeze and do
some reading. After I’d lugged everything she insisted she needed out under the
tree and had arranged everything
exactly
the way she
wanted, I was hot and sweaty. She offered me—” his fingers made quotation marks,
“—‘a refreshing drink.’ I’d gulped down a glass before I had a clue what it
was.”

He rubbed his temples with a sigh. “I thought your family had
Irish descendents, not Southern ones. You’re the one who should have warned me
about your mother’s juleps.”

“What can I say? The Irish love Irish whiskey, bourbon whiskey,
any whiskey.” She knew without a doubt she should have visited her mother
yesterday morning because Kathleen was finding it difficult being at Kylemore
and hated being dependent on people. As a result, her mom was often pedantic and
Hank had been the recipient of all those emotions yesterday.

She quickly flattened the flicker of guilt and instead,
justified to herself that the previous day’s discussions about wedding
invitations with Annika was an essential part of the foundations for her and
Hank’s future. She lugged a pile of magazines and her wedding planner from the
side table, and with a thud, dumped them in front of Hank.

He flinched at the noise.

She didn’t care. Everything depended on their wedding being
perfect and that started with choosing the right venue. That decision must
happen today. Flicking open the brochures from the Newberry Library and three
other venues, she said, “I sent you the links to all these places last week.”
She smiled encouragingly. “So, where are we getting married?”

Hank grimaced. “My head’s pounding, Bridey, and my mouth feels
like the bottom of a birdcage.”

“But you’ve read the information. Surely you must have some
thoughts.”

Hank took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Despite his long sleep, fatigue still cloaked him. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t
checked out the links. Last week I worked seventeen hours a day and I’m not
dealing with this until I’ve eaten something.”

She couldn’t stop herself. “If you’d eaten something yesterday
we wouldn’t be in this position.”

He slowly slid his glasses back on his face and when he spoke
his voice was cool. “Bridey, what’s going on?”

All her frustrations of a delayed vacation and her rising fears
generated by the weekend, collided and then morphed into a massive ball of
disappointment. Disappointment edged with the golden gilt of fear—fear that Hank
was slipping away from her. That he hadn’t proposed to her because he didn’t
want to get married.

She threw her arms up in the air as her insecurities ignited
her Irish temper. “
Nothing
is going on and that’s
the problem. I thought you came up here to see me, but instead you’ve spent time
with everybody else in my family, and I’ve hardly seen you. Yesterday, when I
finally found you, you were hammered. Now you’re going back to Chicago and if
we’re getting married any time next year we’ve got decisions to make.”

“Fine.” Without taking a close look at any of the brochures, he
picked one up. “This one.”

He
doesn’t
care
. Her jaw tightened so much she could hardly
speak. “Why?”

He sighed. “Bridey, if you’re not happy with this choice then
you choose.”

No
,
you
must
be
involved
. She tried to keep the anxiety out of her
voice. “I want to know why you chose this one.”

He shrugged. “No particular reason. They all look the
same.”

Anger spurted. “No. They. Don’t.”

Hank tapped every brochure’s picture of white-clothed tables
and chairs. “Yes. They. Do.”

With trembling fingers, she gathered up the brochures and
shoved them back into the folder. “If you’re going to be a jerk about this then
don’t even bother.”

Censure shone in his eyes. “Now you’re sounding like a spoiled
child.”

Shock at his criticism combined with the sting of his words,
making her angrier. “I’ve put down deposits on four venues so we could make a
personal choice but all you’ve done is random selection. Do you have any idea
what has to happen between now and next July? How many decisions have to be made
about everything from where we get married to the honeymoon, and a million tiny
details in between? How can me wanting
our
wedding
to be perfect make me spoiled?” Her fist hit her heart. “At least I care, which
is more than you do at the moment.”

Every hair on his body seemed to rise and he pressed his palms
flat against the table as if that action would prevent him from doing something
he might regret. He levered himself up slowly, his face as hard as granite. “I
can’t talk to you when you’re like this. When you’ve got some perspective about
the wedding plans, let me know.”

For the first time ever, he turned his back on her and walked
away.

His unfamiliar anger sent panic swirling through her, bumping
and clanging against all her fears. “Hank, wait!”

But he disappeared though the door without a backward glance,
and the rigid set of his shoulders told her there was absolutely no point
following him.

Her stomach churned and her heart beat so fast it threatened to
bruise itself on her ribs. She couldn’t believe he’d left. They’d never argued
about anything.
Until
the
engagement
. Her heart cramped. Since their
engagement there’d been tiny disagreements, mostly over the party plans, but
she’d smoothed them over. Today was very different.

She spun the ring on her finger—the ring Hank had paid for. The
ring she’d chosen and ordered because when she’d asked him about rings, he’d
kissed her and said, “Choose the one that makes you happy.” At the time she’d
thought it was the most romantic thing in the world for him to have said. Now
her heart quivered with uncertainty. Was this ring just another example of him
not caring about the wedding? Not caring about them? Why had he said yes to her
proposal if he didn’t want to get married?

He
works
for
your
father
.
He’s
spent
the
weekend
with
your
family
. The traitorous thought seeped into her like
poison. The enormous diamond sparkled in the sunshine that poured in through the
windows. The ring that represented indestructible love. Her falling tears didn’t
dent its mocking shine.

* * *

Annika loved the serenity of the cabin and the peace of
the woods, but she missed Finn. She missed his laugh, she missed the warmth of
his arms and, God help her, she missed the sex. Her body quivered at the merest
thought of him but without Finn in bed next to her, the attraction of sleeping
between the softness of high thread count sheets had faded quickly.

He’d been caught up in Chicago longer then he’d expected but in
an act that made her heart sing, he’d made a flying visit late on Tuesday,
leaving again early Wednesday. She’d felt slightly guilty when his alarm had
gone off at 5:00 a.m. because they hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep. The sex had
been amazing as usual, but it was the lying in his arms with his fingers
trailing through her hair, while they talked through the night, that she
treasured most.

She’d kept to their agreed routine of spending the mornings in
the office and the afternoons in the studio, but to help the long Finn-less
evenings pass she’d pulled a couple of really late nights in the studio. She
hadn’t done any painting. She hadn’t even unrolled the first two canvases of
Dawn
and
Day
because
despite what Finn thought, she was far too busy to start painting and just the
thought of it had her running scared.

Working late was good on so many levels and when she got back
to the cabin she fell into an exhausted sleep which gave her no time to think
about anything at all—especially how much she missed Finn. She couldn’t allow
herself to miss him because all of this was very, very temporary. She hauled her
mind back to the computer screen in the office and started checking the email
folders she’d created so she could keep the AKP work totally separate from her
correspondence connected with Whitetail. Every day she checked in with Ellery
and checked her Whitetail mail, hoping there’d be a nibble of interest from the
one hundred and eighty information packs she’d sent out.

She hovered her mouse over an email from a Ty Dennison, not
recognizing the name. She clicked the left side of the mouse.

“Esther said you were looking for me, Annika?”

She glanced up from the screen to see Sean strolling into the
office with a smile on his face.

“Morning, Sean. Yes, I was.” She picked up a black folder and
handed it to him. “Finn asked me to give this to you.”

His intelligent eyes gave her a dry look. “I heard the
helicopter at six.”

Something about the way he said it made her feel uncomfortable
and it had nothing to do with the fact that Finn’s family had probably worked
out they were sleeping together. “He wants to be in Chicago if anything else
flares up with the Jazz Juice account.”

He nodded slowly. “Of course he does.”

The message buried in Sean’s words was clear. Finn spent the
least amount of time possible with his father. “I’m sorry, Sean, I can only tell
you what he told me.”

“When do you expect him back?”

Not
soon
enough
. “Friday.”

“Ah.” He tapped the folder on his thigh.

She found herself blurting out, “Can I help with anything,
Sean?”
I’m
already
trying
to
get
him
to
talk
to
you
.

“Not unless you’re a miracle worker.” He gave her a sad smile.
“I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of and this problem’s all mine and mine
to fix.” He rested one buttock on the edge of her desk. “So, how are things with
you, Annika? Sounds like you’re busy. I heard you on the radio this morning
selling the concept of Whitetail as the new hub of heartland manufacturing.”

She groaned. “I was trying hard to but it turns out the
interviewer had just got engaged and she was more interested in talking about
the wedding expo the town put on the day I went to court.”

“Bridey tells me you might be designing her invitations so a
bit of free advertising on the radio can’t hurt.”

She was getting weary of trying to explain her concerns about
Weddings That WOW. “I find it hard to imagine that it could provide the level of
employment the town needs.”

He rubbed his chin. “People spend a lot of money on weddings,
Annika. Bridey’s almost bankrupted me on deposits alone, and yesterday she was
mumbling something about a nine-thousand-dollar wedding cake.”

“Nine thous—” Annika choked on her indrawn breath and started
coughing violently.

Sean rose and poured her a glass of water before handing it to
her with a smile. “That was pretty much my reaction too. I’ll let you get back
to work.”

She nodded her goodbye, still trying to find her breath and
after sipping the water she finally read the now opened email.

Dear
Ms
.
Jacobson
,

Long
River
Electronics
is
looking
to
expand
and
is
interested
in
visiting
your
town
.
I
wish
to
fly
in
next
week
and
would
appreciate
you
confirming
Tuesday
at
2
p
.
m
.
I
look
forward
to
meeting
with
you
and
touring
the
facilities
.

Ty
Dennison

CEO
and
owner
of
Long
River
Electronics

Annika blinked and read it three times before she let out a
whoop of delight. She grabbed her phone wanting to share the good news. Her
fingers bounced over the keypad in excitement and it was only when the call
defaulted to voice mail that she realized she’d phoned Finn instead of Ellery.
She refused to consider that meant anything more than a momentary lapse due to
excitement.