Undeniable (Cloverleigh Farms #2)(54)

She laughed graciously. “Thank you, dear. I try. I’ve got two new hips now, did Oliver tell you?”

“He didn’t.” I winked at her. “But you know men. They forget all the important things.”

She winked back. “They certainly do. If you just accept that, you can avoid a lot of fights in married life.”

“Gran, can I get you a chair?” Oliver asked. “Why don’t you come sit down?”

“Thank you, dear, but I think I’m going to go up to my room for a little rest before dinner. I don’t want to fall asleep before the excitement.”

“Sounds good, I’ll help you up the stairs,” said Oliver quickly, taking her arm. “Be right back, Chloe.”

“No rush.” I smiled and let my mother tug me over to the bar, where Uncle Soapy poured me a drink. I sipped it and smiled and chatted with everyone, keeping one eye on the patio door, watching for Oliver.

When he came out about fifteen minutes later, he grabbed a drink from the bar and came over to where I sat with my parents. He took a great big gulp before sitting in the chair next to me.

“Everything okay?” I asked him.

“Everything is great,” he said.

But he wouldn’t meet my eye.

Everyone wanted to know about our business venture, so we described our trip to South Manitou, regaled them with the story of Jacob Feldmann, told them all about the farm we wanted to purchase, about the heritage rye we wanted to plant, about our plans to build new facilities at Coverleigh in a partnership with Brown Eyed Girl. I blushed listening to Oliver heap praise on my marketing skills, on all I’d accomplished at Cloverleigh, at how thrilled he was I’d agreed to work together.

He went into his usual showman mode as he told the tale of Jacob and Rebecca, and he seemed to recover some of his usual charisma and spark in front of the crowd. We stayed mum about our personal relationship, although he did take my hand at one point, and I know my mother noticed. She and Aunt Nell exchanged what can only be described as an Aren’t They Adorable look, as if we were five years old again.

But his leg was twitching beneath the table, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something with him was off.





20





Oliver





NOW



I was starting to panic.

Somehow, I had to get Chloe alone and tell her the whole story and why it was necessary, but I didn’t see how it would be possible before dinner. My mother, who, as predicted, had no poker face whatsoever, was already ushering us from the patio into the house.

“Dinner is nearly ready, everyone,” she said. “After you change and freshen up, we’ll all meet in the library for cake and champagne in ten minutes. We have to do it before dinner, since Mother gets tired easily. I guess when you’re ninety, you get to have dessert before your vegetables!”

Everyone laughed, while I thought, fuck—ten minutes is not going to be enough time to explain things.

But it was all I had.

I grabbed her by the hand and tugged her toward the stairs ahead of everyone else. But just as we reached the landing, my mother caught up with us.

“Darlings, I have you together in Oliver’s old room,” she said with a knowing smile. “I hope that’s okay. With John and Daphne here too, there weren’t quite enough bedrooms for you each to have your own.”

“It’s fine,” Chloe said.

“Normally, I wouldn’t put two unmarried people together in a room with Gran here. It’s a bit too contemporary for her,” my mother whispered. “But I’m a modern woman myself, and I’m sure you two will want to stay together tonight.” Suddenly she threw her arms around Chloe. “I’m just so happy. I hope you don’t mind I invited your parents. I just thought they should be here for this occasion.”

Jesus Christ, Mom.

Chloe looked at me from over my mother’s shoulder, her eyebrows rising. No doubt she was confused about what occasion this could be. “I don’t mind,” she said. “It’s fun to have everyone together again. It’s been a long time.”

“It has.” My mother released Chloe and looked back and forth between us, her eyes growing misty. “But just think of all the years we’ll have to bring the families together.”

“We need to go change now, Mom.” I grabbed Chloe’s hand and began pulling her up the stairs. “We’ll see you in the library in ten minutes.”

“Don’t be late, darling,” she called up.

I practically dragged Chloe down the hall to my old bedroom at the cottage, shutting the door behind us. It looked much the same as it had when I was a kid, except the two twin beds were replaced with a queen when I was in high school. Same navy blue and kelly green color scheme. Same sailboat-themed curtains and wallpaper. Same art on the walls—mostly paintings of harbors at sunset.

“Your mom is acting a little strange,” Chloe said, going over to her bag, which was on a bench at the foot of the bed. “Don’t you think?”

“Uh, yeah.” I started pacing back and forth between the bench and the dresser. “But I can probably explain that.”

“You’re acting a little strange too.” Chloe looked at me funny as she took off her shoes and unzipped her bag. “Is something wrong?”