Fairytale Come Alive (Ghosts and Reincarnation #4)(29)
She’d seen him shirtless twenty years ago, of course, and memories of his body, the defined muscles, the hair that matted his chest (not too much, just enough) had been fodder for many a fantasy when they were apart and the twenty ensuing years besides.
Now, the defined muscle had more bulk, more power. Even the way he held himself which, back in the day, was confident to the point of almost swaggering, was now more confident but without the swagger.
He knew who he was, had settled into his physique and the result was enthralling.
Still, he could have absented himself that morning and put on a shirt. It was the polite thing to do. She knew it was his house and she was a guest he’d rather not have but, really. To wander around the kitchen half-naked, standing close to her (probably so he could keep an eye on her and wrestle her out of the room if she did anything too friendly with his children), it was too much!
“Yes?” she prompted when he seemed fascinated with watching her measure soap into the load.
Prentice’s gaze cut to her face and took in her hair then her body before coming back to her eyes.
“We’re leaving.”
“I’ll see you there,” she turned away, dropping the lid on the washer, turning the dial and hitting the button.
He was still standing in the door when she made to leave the room.
“You’re coming with us.”
Isabella halted. Then she stared at him.
“I’ll drive myself,” she said.
“That’s unnecessary considering we’re both going to the same place.”
“I’d prefer to drive myself.”
“Why?”
Why, indeed.
Her hands clenched into fists.
Because being with you is killing me especially since you obviously hate me and I’ve never fallen out of love with you.
Because realizing there are more reasons why it was for your own good that I broke your heart hurts like hell. No Sally, no Jason, even with Fiona dead you had more in those years from her than you’d ever get from me.
Because I need a moment away from all that is you and your beautiful children to get my head together so I can deal with the day.
All of this Isabella thought but did not say.
“I just would,” she said instead.
“You’re coming with us,” he repeated.
“Prentice –”
“Sally wants you with us.”
Isabella snapped her mouth shut.
Well then, who could argue with that?
“I’ll get my purse,” she muttered and to her dismay, he barely shifted to the side so she had to squeeze by him, sucking in her belly and breath to get around him and her br**sts still brushed his chest when she went by.
A heady thrill jolted through her body at that slight touch. A thrill he’d given her before, many a time. A thrill that she remembered like the last one she’d had was only yesterday.
Her fists tightened, her nails bit into her palms and she hurried to her room.
* * * * *
Fiona
Fiona floated with her family (and Isabella) to the front door.
Prentice was furious. Jason seemed confused. Sally was simply tired.
Isabella was wearing a brave face but the hideousness of the day had taken its toll. She was pale and there was a tightness about her eyes that was heartbreaking.
And her hands were clenched into permanent fists.
Fiona had been born in her village and she’d been proud of being a member of its community her whole life.
Until that day.
She knew, because she felt it herself, that everyone had felt duped by Isabella, not just Prentice. They all loved her, including Fiona. It got worse when she never returned even after the terrible accident that tore Annie and Dougal apart. That feeling had intensified further as she’d publicly moved on, living the high life of international fame and celebrity.
But, even if only for Annie’s sake, they could at least attempt to be polite.
Instead of vicious.
At Annie’s request, the minute Isabella hit Fergus’s house, she ran to the kitchen to start making dozens and dozens of Annie’s favorite cookies. The picnic was catered including a luncheon and then an American-style bonfire that night, roasting hot dogs on sticks and making s’mores which Fiona had never had but thought they looked delicious.
Isabella let Sally help but the making of cookies put Prentice in a bad mood which drove him to broody, something which Isabella ignored, in fact, she seemed to be doing her best to ignore Prentice as much as she could which, in turn (strangely, Fiona thought) was something Prentice seemed to be working at not allowing.
Fiona knew why the cookies made Prentice broody.
Isabella used to send him cookies from America, not to mention make them weekly for him when she was in Scotland. He’d told Fiona that when he told her about Isabella.
What Fiona didn’t understand was, if Prentice had “moved on” as he’d told Dougal he had, why the cookies would make him broody at all?
That day Isabella didn’t make them for Prentice, however. She made them for Annie and Dougal’s guests.
And the minute those guests (at least the villagers, Sally and Jason ate around a million of them and Prentice wasn’t far behind) found out she’d made them, they avoided them.
Pointedly.
Not only that, one villager, Hattie Fennick, actually made a point to take a bite then spit it out right when Isabella was watching her. Hattie had always been a cow, especially around Fiona who Hattie made no bones about not liking. Then again, she didn’t like pretty much everyone including Prentice, who Fiona had known for years Hattie had a raging crush on even after she hooked up with her husband Nigel but Prentice had never shown an interest or shown that he knew she existed at all unless he was vaguely irritated by something she’d done which made her act even more of a cow.