Suddenly Last Summer

CHAPTER TWO

“THE PRODIGAL GRANDSON RETURNS.” A familiar voice came from behind him and Sean turned to find Tyler standing there holding two cups of coffee.

He took one without invitation. “Didn’t realize the whole family was here.”

“They are now that you walked through the door and that’s Jackson’s coffee you’re drinking. You look like a banker, not a doctor. What happened to the scrubs?”

“I wear those when I’m operating. The rest of the time I wear a suit.”

“Why? So you can charge more?” The banter did nothing to disguise the tension in Tyler’s shoulders and Sean felt a rush of concern.

“This may come as a surprise to you given your TV viewing preferences, but most people don’t like doctors covered in blood.” He took a sip of coffee, coughed and handed it straight back to his brother. “That is disgusting.”

“Straight from the machine, the way you hate it. That’s your punishment for stealing something that wasn’t yours in the first place. Believe me, when you’ve been in this place all day it tastes like nectar.”

“How’s the leg?”

“Behaving. I never thought I’d say this, but it’s good to see you.” Tyler gave a laugh. “Listen to me, getting all mushy on you.”

“Yeah, suddenly I’m worried.”

“Don’t be. The only reason I’m pleased to see you is because now you can do the boring incomprehensible bit of talking to the doctors and I can focus my attention on more important things.”

“Would those more important things be female?”

“They might be. Was that Élise I saw leaving? Did you know she was with Gramps when he collapsed?”

“Jackson told me. She didn’t mention it.” Which, now that he thought about it, was a little strange.

What had they talked about?

All he could remember was the brush of her cheek against his, the silk of her hair and the scent that had slid into his veins like a drug. And the chemistry. Always the chemistry, simmering in the background like a summer heat wave.

The doors to the nearest elevator opened and Sean saw Jackson standing there with Kayla.

“Élise texted me to tell me you were here. We weren’t expecting you for another hour at least.”

“I may have broken a few speed limits.” Sean wondered how long it had been since his twin had slept. “Any change?”

“Not that I can tell, but I’m not the doctor. It’s hard to get information from anyone. For all I know they might be useless at their jobs. You need to speak to them.”

“I called from the car. This place has one of the highest heart attack survival rates in the country. They took him straight to the cath lab for balloon inflation and stenting. They had him out of the E.R. in seventeen minutes. That’s impressive.” It came as a relief to discover that even though he was affected personally, the doctor in him was still able to detach and analyze.

Jackson glanced at Tyler, who shrugged.

“Don’t look at me. I never understand a word he says. It’s all those books he reads. Don’t suppose his patients understand him, either, but they’re probably reassured by the expensive suit and the astronomical fees he charges.”

It was a relief to relax with his brothers for five minutes. “You could wear a suit occasionally, Ty. If you tidied yourself up you might even get laid.”

“The reason I’m not getting laid is because my teenage daughter is living with me. I’m a shining example of parenthood.”

Sean grinned. “It must be killing you.”

Jackson intervened before the conversation could degenerate. “Can we focus on Gramps for a moment? Explain again, and this time use plain language.”

“The artery was blocked, so they unblocked it by inflating a balloon against the artery wall and inserting a stent, like mesh, to hold it open—” Sean used his hands to demonstrate. “All the studies show that if they can do that within ninety minutes of the original attack, there is a better chance of survival and fewer complications. Time from the onset of symptoms to reperfusion is an important predictor of outcome.”

Jackson pressed a button on the elevator and the doors closed. “I asked for plain language.”

“That was plain language.”

Tyler rolled his eyes. “If he ever gives us the complicated version I’m going to need a large drink.”

Jackson was frowning. “So is that good news?”

Relatively speaking.

Sean decided they didn’t need to know all the potential outcomes. “How did it start? Was Gramps sick? Did he have chest pain?”

“According to Élise, one minute he was standing up, the next minute he was on the ground.” Jackson watched as the buttons illuminated one by one, stopping at what felt like every floor to let people in and out. “He was working on the deck of the old boathouse.”

“Why?”

“We’re converting it into a café.” It was Jackson’s turn to sound irritable. “Don’t you read your emails?”

“I get a ton of emails. So why was Gramps doing the work?”

“Because there wasn’t anyone else. We’re stretched to the limit. Gramps wanted to help and I don’t have the luxury of being able to stop him, even supposing I could. Everyone has been doing what they can to keep the place afloat.”

Everyone except him.

Sean stared straight ahead, feeling the guilt cover him like sweat. He was the only one not doing anything to stop the family business from sinking.

He turned his head to speak to Jackson and wished he hadn’t because his brother was kissing Kayla. A slow, lingering kiss that had as much eye contact as lip contact.

Immediately he thought of Élise. Of that single, hot night the summer before.

The night neither of them had ever mentioned.

He looked away. “Could you put each other down just for two minutes so we can focus here?”

“You’re witnessing true love,” Tyler drawled, “and it’s a beautiful thing.”

“Sorry, but it’s been a tough day and we don’t see that much of each other.” Kayla rested her head on Jackson’s shoulder. “But that’s going to change soon. One more week!”

Sean frowned. “You’ve given up your job in New York?”

“Yes. I’m going to be working and living here full-time. You knew I was doing that.” Kayla twisted the engagement ring on her finger. “I told you at Christmas.”

At Christmas he’d been focused on surviving three days of living in close quarters with his family without revealing the rift with his grandfather. He’d given virtually no thought to the way anyone else was feeling.

“Right. I guess I lost track of time.”

So Kayla was giving up her life to come and live here at Snow Crystal. Another person sacrificing everything for love. What the hell was he supposed to say to that?

Congratulations?

Have you thought this through?

What happens when you wake up and start resenting everything you gave up to live here?

“I hope you’ll both be very happy.”

“We are and we will be.” Jackson looped his arm around Kayla’s shoulders. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous. He can’t keep a woman long enough to learn her name, that’s his problem.”

“I’m not the one with the problem.”

Commitment meant putting your own needs second and he was too selfish to make that sacrifice for anyone. He wanted to be able to work when he needed to without feeling the constant tug of duty and responsibility. He wanted to travel without always feeling there was another place he should be. He wanted freedom. He didn’t want to feel trapped and stifled in the same way his father had.

10,11,12—the elevator had to be the slowest ever. He felt like getting out and pushing.

“Tyler, you should go home.” Jackson still had his arm around Kayla. “Gramps won’t thank us if he comes home and finds the place neglected.”

“He never thanks us, anyway,” Tyler muttered and Sean slid his finger around his already loosened collar.

“I’m not expecting a warm welcome.”

“You could come home more often,” Jackson replied mildly. “That would help.”

Tyler eyed his suit. “He doesn’t have the right clothing. You can’t walk around Snow Crystal in silk shirts and Armani.”

“It’s Brioni. I bought it when I was presenting at a medical conference in Milan.” He didn’t add that moving to Snow Crystal permanently would be one sacrifice he wouldn’t be making anytime soon. “A good suit is an investment. I seem to remember you owning a decent suit once. Several, in fact. Of course, that was in the days before you let yourself go.”

The exchange with his brothers was comfortable and familiar and kept him sane until the elevator finally stopped. He strode out before the doors were fully open, relieved to be out of the confined space, trapped with emotions he didn’t want to confront.

Tyler was right on his heels. “I can’t stand hospitals. All those white coats and beeping machines and people using incomprehensible words.” His face was noticeably paler than usual. “It’s like being on an alien spaceship.”

Sean wondered if being here reminded his brother of his accident.

For him, hospitals were exciting places, centers for research, full of possibilities.

He felt completely at home and his brothers seemed to know that because Jackson slapped him on the shoulder.

“You know your way around this spaceship. Ready to kick some butt?”

“Do aliens have butts?”

Kayla rolled her eyes. “You sound like a bad movie.”

“What sort of movie?” Jackson’s eyes were on her mouth. “You mean like a porn movie? Because if you want to do bad things to me, that’s fine.”

Sean caught Tyler’s eye. His brother shrugged.

“Like I said—true love. It will happen to you one day when you least expect it. And the next thing you know you’ll be walking around with your lips glued to some chick making embarrassing noises like our beloved brother here.”

And not long after that the sacrifices would start. I became us and along with us came a giant dollop of compromise and suddenly your life didn’t look anything like the way you’d once wanted it to look. You stared into the mirror and asked yourself how the hell did I end up here?

There was no way, no way, that was ever going to happen to him.

“There’s an ice machine at the end of the corridor.” Sean glanced at the signs and found the direction he wanted. “You two should go sit in it while I talk to Gramps.”

ÉLISE SPENT THE evening cooking. Combining flavors and textures was a way of occupying her mind and soothing her anxiety. She told herself it was work, that she needed new recipes for the café, but in truth it was distraction. Distraction from thoughts of Walter and that horrible moment when he’d collapsed at her feet.

It had been hours and she’d heard nothing. She’d texted Kayla twice and received no response. The next step would be to call the hospital and she was close to doing that.

It was almost midnight. Why hadn’t Kayla called?

Dark fell over the lake.

An owl hooted.

Unable to contemplate sleep, she cooked and wrote notes on the laptop she kept permanently on the countertop in the kitchen. Some of the recipes would make it into her repertoire and would be used in the restaurant or the café. Others would never be used again.

She pulled a tray of savory mushroom pastries out of the oven and set them aside to cool, pleased with the result. Picking up a fork, she cut into one. The pastry was a pale golden-brown, crisp and buttery. It flaked in the mouth and melted on the tongue, blending perfectly with the creamy filling.

“Something smells good.” Sean’s voice came from behind her and she turned sharply, her pulse rate doubling.

He stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders blocking her view of the lake.

It was the first time he’d been to her lodge since she’d been living in it. The fact that he’d come in person could only mean bad news.

“Something has happened to Walter? Is he—?” The fear was brutal. Her head spun and her vision felt distant and strange.

She didn’t see him move, but the next moment strong hands clamped her shoulders and she was being guided into the chair.

“Put your head down.” His voice was calm and sure. “You’re fine, sweetheart, you’ve just had a long day. Gramps is good. He’s doing well.”

She leaned forward, waiting for the world to stop spinning. “Is that the truth? You’re not lying to me?”

“I never lie. Some women would say it’s my biggest failing.” He crouched down next to her and closed a hand over hers. “Better?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t say that his honesty was one of the things she liked best about him.

Lifting her head, she met his gaze. Her stomach tightened.

It didn’t matter how much they tried to ignore it, the connection was always there.

Merde. And now she was leaning on him like a pathetic creature. And she didn’t do that. She never did that.

“You scared me. I thought—” She couldn’t even say what she’d thought. It was a relief to feel her heart thudding against her chest. For a moment she’d thought it had stopped. “Kayla didn’t answer my texts. I was worried.”

“Probably too busy kissing my brother to check her phone.” He gave her hand another squeeze and stood up. “Do those two ever stop?”

She flexed her fingers, thinking that she should have been the one to pull her hand away.

“They’re apart for a lot of the week so I suppose they want to make the most of the time they’re together. Tell me about your grandfather. How was he when you left?”

“Awake and talking. Scolding Grams for having stayed with him the whole time when she should have gone home to bed.”

“Scolding? That sounds so much like him.” The relief was so great it was almost physical. “I will kill Kayla for not texting me.” She knew she should stand up but she didn’t trust her legs so she stayed sitting on the pretty blue wooden chair she’d bought for her kitchen. “I’m shaking! I am a mess.”

“From what I’ve heard you’ve had a hell of a day, so shaking is allowed. Here. Have a drink.” Pulling a bottle of cognac from her shelf, he sloshed a generous measure into a glass and sniffed it with appreciation. “This is good stuff. If I’d known you were hiding this I would have been around sooner.”

He handed her the glass and she took it, horrified to feel a hot ball of tears wedged in her throat.

“Sorry—”

“Are you apologizing for not sharing your cognac or for caring about my grandfather?”

“I’m apologizing for overreacting.” And she was furious with herself for allowing her thoughts to wander into worst-case land. She sipped and felt the liquid burn her throat.

Sean watched her. “I’m the one who should be apologizing for showing up at your door without warning. It didn’t occur to me that you might think I was the bearer of bad news. Women are usually pleased to see me.” He obviously intended it as a joke, but she knew it was probably the truth.

“You have never come to my lodge before and I’ve been worrying and when I couldn’t reach Kayla I thought maybe—” her heart was still pounding “—I saw you there and I was so afraid—”

“If you were that afraid why didn’t you call me?”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“For God’s sake Élise, we’re not strangers. You ripped my clothes off. We had sex. If we can roll naked together, you can pick up the damn phone.”

She felt the betraying color streak across her cheeks. “You ripped my clothes off, too, in case your memory is faulty.”

But she’d started it.

She’d made the first move on that hot summer night with the scent of the forest around them and her blood on fire for him.

“Yeah, that’s right. I did. There was plenty of mutual ripping that night. And my memory is working just fine, thanks.” His smile was slow and sexy, his eyes a vivid intense blue. “How is yours?”

“I can barely remember it now.”

The corners of his mouth flickered. “Because it wasn’t a very memorable night, was it? Look,” he said, as he took the glass from her, “I’m bad at relationships, I admit it. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to pretend that night didn’t happen. Next time you’re worried about something, pick up the phone.”

“I don’t have your number and I don’t want it.” Their relationship had never been about numbers and phone calls. It had been about hot sex, and it was hot sex she was thinking of now and she knew he was, too.

“I’m not suggesting you call me while I’m operating to tell me you love me, but if you’d had my number you could have called me tonight instead of worrying.”

“Do people do that? Call you while you’re operating?”

“Sometimes.” He leaned against her kitchen counter. “Women usually want more than I can give.”

“I don’t.”

She knew she never would have called him. Calling was the first step on the path to a relationship and she’d never tread that path again, not even a little way. She’d done it before and it had been like walking over broken glass with bare feet. She still bore the scars and it was because of those scars her heart no longer had a say in any of the decisions in her life.

When it came to men, her head was in charge.

Sean held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

“There’s no need.”

“Give it to me or I’ll wrestle it away from you and then things could get ugly.” He kept his hand outstretched and, reluctantly, she dug it out of her pocket.

“This is ridiculous.”

He leaned forward and prised it from her fingers with the determination of a man who knew what he wanted and went for it. “I love the way you roll your r’s. It’s very sexy.” Cool and collected, he accessed her contacts and keyed in his number. “Next time you’re worried about something, call me.”

“Fine. I’ll call you twenty times a day when you’re operating to tell you I love you, and if you don’t answer I’ll leave a message.”

He laughed. “My team will enjoy each and every one of those calls.”

“Maybe I will sell your number on eBay and make some money for Snow Crystal.”

“What’s the going rate for overworked surgeons? I’m probably not worth much.” Handing the phone back, he turned his attention back to the pastries. “Are those for eating?”

“No.”

“You’re cruel and heartless. I knew it the moment I met you. You used me for a night of scorching sex and then discarded me.”

Flirting with him was like dancing with fire.

One wrong move and that heat would burn and leave permanent damage.

Not once had she ever questioned her decision to spend the night with him, but there was no way she would do it again.

“Tell me more about Walter.”

“Feed me first. I haven’t eaten a proper meal since breakfast and that wasn’t a memorable experience.” He eyed the tray of pastries. “They look almost too pretty to eat, but not quite.”

“They’re an experiment.”

“I’m a doctor. I’m a believer in the importance of research in the pursuit of excellence and I’m happy to help you out. I’ll even submit a paper to the New England Journal of Medicine. Relief of anxiety symptoms after ingestion of Élise’s cooking. Don’t make me beg.”

“You don’t need to beg.” She slid her phone back into her pocket, resisting the temptation to delete his number. Just because it was in there, didn’t mean she had to use it. “I’m still working on the menu for the café, even though there is no possibility of us opening on time.”

“How much work is there to be done?”

“Not much. That’s what makes it all the more frustrating. We were so nearly there. But it will open eventually and I’m devising a whole new menu. It will be a different dining experience.”

A cool breeze blew in through the open door and she heard the call of a bird as it flew low over the lake. The stillness of the night added to the intimacy.

She told herself that she could control the chemistry, that she could either act on it or ignore it. Either way she would make the decision with her head, as she always did.

“This particular dining experience smells good. I predict I’ll be a frequent guest.”

“You live a four-hour drive from Snow Crystal.”

“Tonight I did it in three.”

“So you’re going to be driving here for my food?” She reached for a plate but he had already helped himself to a pastry.

He bit into it and moaned deep in his throat. Élise turned away quickly, thinking that all the sophisticated tailoring in the world didn’t disguise the raw physicality of the man.

“If you’re still alive in five minutes, I’ll assume they pass the test,” she said lightly. “For the café the plan is to keep the menu simple and of course, we’ll source as much locally as we already do for the restaurant. Vermont is the most beautiful place. We want to support local agriculture and do everything we can to give our guests locally grown food. Green Mountain ham, local cheeses, fruit from our orchard and salad from our gardens. And our own maple syrup, of course, or Walter would kill me. It’s going to be about flavor and quality.”

“And quantity, I hope. How many of these am I allowed to eat?” His hand hovered over another. “And before you decide I should tell you my last meal was over twelve hours ago and I spent most of the day in the operating room.”

“You’ll eat the next one the way it is supposed to be served, on a plate with salad. In France we believe food is something to be savored, not crammed into the mouth while standing up.” It took her moments to combine various salad leaves and mix a dressing. She plated it up swiftly along with the warm pastry, added bread she’d made earlier in the day and handed it to him. “The bread is sea salt and rosemary. You can tell me what you think.”

“I think I might marry you so that I can eat like this every day.”

Her heart pumped a little harder.

Marriage.

The word alone had an almost visceral effect on her. Even after so many years it turned her cold and made her want to look over her shoulder.

“Then you’d be disappointed. I cook for a living. When I am at home on my own I sometimes just make myself a perfect omelette.”

“When I’m operating I don’t always have time to eat. I take fuel when I can.”

She was conscious of the width and power of his shoulders, of his height in the small space and the shadow that darkened his lean jaw. His sex appeal was undeniable and suddenly Heron Lodge seemed smaller than ever. She was a physical person and she’d denied that part of herself for too long. Her stomach was tight with awareness, her nerve endings alive to the change in the atmosphere. Its chemistry spun a web around them, trapping them both. She wondered what he’d say if he knew she hadn’t slept with a man since him.

“Let’s go outside on the deck.” She handed him the heaped plate. “It’s a warm evening and after spending a day in the restaurant and the hospital I need fresh air. You can tell me about Walter.”

Sean pulled out a chair next to the little wooden table she’d placed right by the water. Her deck was bathed by light spilling from the open door of the lodge. “I gather you were with him when it happened.” He started to eat and she realized this was probably how life was for him. Snatching what time he could between the ferocious demands of his job.

“It was horrible. One minute he was teasing me about those ‘terrible French pancakes’ as he calls them. The next he was on the floor. My hands were shaking so badly I could hardly make the phone call. I thought I’d killed him.”