Driftwood Lane (Nantucket #4)(62)



The shadow moved again. Too tall for Mr. Goldman or the other guests.

“Who’s there?” Jake braced his feet, his guard up, ready to pounce.





Thirty-two

Meridith turned to see why Jake was suddenly alert, the muscles in his arms hardening. She peered around him, and a familiar form emerged from the shadows.

“Stephen!” Meridith hobbled forward and embraced her fiancé. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed you.” He pecked her on the lips, but his embrace felt stilted. Then she remembered Jake.

She pulled away and cleared her throat. “Stephen, this is Jake, the contractor I hired. Jake, this is my fiancé, Stephen.”

Jake extended his hand. The grasp seemed more like a challenge than a handshake. Or maybe it was her imagination.

“Nice to meet you,” Stephen said.

“Same.” Jake’s voice seemed deep after Stephen’s. “I’ll turn in now,” he said to Meridith. “You’ll be all right with your ankle?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Her laugh wobbled. “Good night.”

She’d never gotten around to telling Stephen that Jake was staying there, and now she wished she had. Boy, did she ever.

Stephen would have questions. She wasn’t blind to the way it must look, a cozy family returning from a day at the festival. Not to mention the way she’d been curled into Jake’s arms as he’d helped her up the walk.

The screen door slapped into place, leaving them alone.

Meridith huddled into her thin sweater. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“He’s staying here?” Stephen’s voice had an edge she hadn’t heard before.

“It was a trade. I couldn’t afford the repairs, remember? Jake offered to trade for room and board.”

“I’ll bet he did.”

“Stephen. This is a bed-and-breakfast. We have people here all the time. What’s one more?”

His sigh filled the space between them. Piper sniffed at his pant leg, and Stephen nudged her away. “You’re right. Sorry. I’ve been waiting a while, and I’m hungry.”

There was the old conciliatory Stephen she knew and loved. She almost told him he could’ve knocked—the guests would’ve let him in—but mentioning it now was pointless.

“Well, let’s get that taken care of.” She hobbled toward the door.

“What happened to your ankle?”

She rolled her eyes, though he was behind her. “I was carrying a cooler and didn’t see a dip in the ground. It’s twisted, that’s all.”

“Did you have it looked at?” He set his suitcase inside the door.

“It’s not that bad. Just a little swollen. Have a seat, and I’ll fix you a plate.” She remembered the picnic basket in the car. The trunk would smell by tomorrow, but she wasn’t hobbling out there now.

Meridith prepared a salad and brought it to Stephen. He’d settled on the sofa’s end beside the antique table.

“Here you go. I need to tuck the children in.”

He took the plate. “Should I meet them now?”

That he was eager to meet them warmed her. “Why don’t we wait until morning? They’re pretty tired—might even be asleep already. I’ll be right back.”

Meridith limped up the back stairs. Ben and Noelle were already asleep, but she listened to Max’s prayers. Downstairs again, she stopped in the kitchen for Tylenol. Remembering Piper, she let the dog in the garage and retrieved the picnic basket while she was there. The extra walking made her ankle throb.

Above her, she could hear Jake still stirring, and wondered for the first time what he thought of Stephen’s arrival. Having the two of them there would be uncomfortable. It only proved what she’d been reluctant to admit. An attraction was one thing, but her feelings for Jake had gone beyond that. Leaving the disconcerting notion for later, she returned to the living room.

She limped to the armchair, then wondered why she’d chosen to sit catty-corner rather than beside Stephen. The time apart had made things awkward, she decided, multiplied by their disagreement over the children. Or maybe she’d only chosen the seat so she could prop her foot on the ottoman.

“Sorry we weren’t here when you arrived. If I’d known you were coming . . .”

That he’d come without warning wasn’t Stephen-like at all. He wasn’t the spontaneous type.

He finished chewing a bite of salad. “I missed you. I know I should’ve called. Things have been a little strained between us this week, and I thought being together would help us find our footing again.”

Meridith smiled. He regretted the way he’d handled her decision. He didn’t have to vocalize it; she could see it in the way his eyes turned down at the corners, the way his lips tipped up.

“You’re right.”

“Were the children still awake?”

“Only Max, he’s the ten-year-old. Ben was curled into a ball in his top bunk, and Noelle was sprawled across the bed like she’d been there all night. It was quite the day. I’m sure they’re tired.” As if the mention of the word alerted her body, she yawned.

This visit would be a good thing. Stephen would get acquainted with the children and see why she couldn’t leave them.

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