Thirteen
Jenny was still rooted to the very spot where Edan had kissed her when Lorenzo peeked in the back door. He stepped in and looked at her with alarm. Maybe because she wasn’t breathing. She was absolutely, completely breathless.
“What is wrong?” he exclaimed.
“He kissed me,” she said, her voice still fluttery with excitement. “I don’t even know how it happened—”
“Brava, brava!” Lorenzo said, clapping as he walked to the kitchen island, pausing momentarily to help himself to a nutball. “You see? My plan, it is very smart. You are in love?”
“No!” Jenny said, and then laughed nervously. She sounded like a hyena.
“But of course you are—this is amore at its best, no?”
She swatted his hand away from the nutballs. That’s when she noticed several of them had been smashed. She probably had nutball all over her ass. “You’re way ahead of yourself, buddy,” she said, and poured the melted butter into the batter and stirred.
“Why do you wound me, Jenny Turner? I am an expert in the heart’s affairs.”
“Oh sure. That’s why things are going so well between you and Elizabetta.”
“But I loved her the moment my eyes saw her.”
“Then why did you kiss someone else?” Jenny asked as she began to make more nutballs.
“I am a man of many appetites, little peach. That was an indiscretion,” he said with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “Elizabetta is my one and only love.”
Jenny laughed at him. She was as giddy as a damn schoolgirl. “I think your eye wouldn’t wander quite so much if that were true.”
“I am a man,” he said grandly. “When my eye no longer wanders, I am dead. I knew I was certain Elizabetta would be mine the moment she desired to have a leather handbag that to me looked like every other handbag,” he said, making a sweeping gesture. “But no—this handbag was the only handbag she would have. No other would do.” He leaned forward and locked his gaze on Jenny’s. “It was a priceless handbag. I could give her a house for this price. But I gave her this handbag that looked like all the others, for it is the one that made her happy. That, Jenny Turner, is when I knew.”
Jenny smiled. “That’s actually so romantic, Lorenzo.”
He touched the tip of her nose. “Sometimes, the heart knows and keeps the secret from the brain,” he said, touching her forehead.
She slapped his hand away. “Will you stop? It’s like walking around in a romance novel with you. Have you heard from Elizabetta today?”
Lorenzo’s demeanor instantly changed. “No,” he said, and sat on a stool, propped up his head with his fist. “She does not love me as I love her. She does not wish me to be happy.”
They had sent a new email just last night, entreating Elizabetta a second time to come to Lake Haven.
“But now, we think not of me, but of you, Jenny Turner. Now is the time to catch the fish. Now is the time we—”
“Hold it right there,” she said, holding up a spatula. “I think we’ve taken the jealousy thing far enough. I’ll take it from here.”
“You?” He laughed roundly. “You know nothing of this. You are bambino when it comes to the heart. I have a plan—”
“No plans!” Jenny said firmly. “Whatever happens, happens. It’s bad karma to interfere with fate. Sometimes, you have to go with the flow.”
Lorenzo sighed. “All my hard work, and you will toss it away like a bothersome feather.” He swiped another nutball and munched it sorrowfully. “Remember, Jenny Turner, if Eddy thinks you pursue him, he will run like the fox.”
“I’m not pursuing him,” she insisted. She didn’t know what exactly she was doing, but she didn’t want Lorenzo orchestrating anything. She would work it out herself. Except that she had no plan for how to proceed with Edan. None whatsoever. But she had a plan! It was a different plan, and where Edan fit into it, who knew? She had to let the chips fall where they may.
She’d talked to her dad last night. He’d enthusiastically encouraged her to pursue her idea, to bring him some information. So she’d casually spoken to a Realtor this morning in a fact-finding mode. Jenny was determined to go for it, to buy this inn. The desire was growing in her every moment.
She was still mulling it over later that evening after the dining room had closed and Lorenzo had gone off in search of a pub, and she’d decided to take advantage of a perfectly lovely summer’s evening to walk off the generous portion of Scottish salmon and potatoes she’d had. And a few too many nutballs, if she was being honest.
She’d made it to the top of the hill when her phone began to jingle in her pocket. “Hi Vanessa,” she said when she answered.
“Hello, Jennerator,” Vanessa said cheerfully. “Still feeling the magic out there in the hinterlands?”
Jenny smiled thinly. “If you called to lecture me—”
“I didn’t! I am calling to talk to you about a job!”
She announced it as if Jenny had just won the Reader’s Digest sweepstakes.
“I have these clients with a chain of coffee shops. Morning Joes, they’re called. They just opened one in Santa Monica, and they are looking for management staff. So I told them about you and guess what. They’re interested.”
“Wow,” Jenny said.
“You’d be perfect for it, Jenny,” Vanessa said enthusiastically. “You’re so good with people. And you have such a creative mind. I know you could think of ways to bring in business.”
“What, like classes on existentialism in the evenings or something like that?” Jenny tossed out there.
“Well, maybe not that class exactly, but yes, creative,” Vanessa said.
Jenny was only half joking. That actually sounded like a great idea. She could do something like that here, on the first tee. “Thanks, Vanessa. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course, they’ll have to vet you. I told them you’re on sabbatical and I made it sound fancy, because that’s what I do for my friends. And they said sure, of course. But I don’t think you can hang out there forever if you’re interested. When should I tell them you’ll be back?”
“About that,” Jenny said, and squeezed her eyes shut a moment. “I’m not sure I’ll be back.”
That was met with silence. And then, “Why?”
“Because I am thinking of buying this inn,” Jenny said, plunging right in. “It’s going on the market soon.”
“What?” Vanessa cried. “Are you crazy?”
“I don’t think so,” Jenny answered honestly.
“Jenny!” Vanessa said sternly, and proceeded with the harangue Jenny knew she’d get from all her friends. Vanessa pointed out how ill-equipped Jenny was to take on an inn, that she knew nothing about running a business, how flighty she could be in most things, and how she could not simply quit an inn she’d bought if she didn’t like it.
When she’d finished, or had paused to take a breath, Jenny didn’t know, as she’d stopped listening, Jenny said with a calmness she didn’t feel, “Thanks for you concern, V. Seriously. I know you mean well, but this time, I know what I’m doing.”
“Oh, Jenny,” Vanessa said wearily, as if Jenny were the child who continued to disappoint her.
Jenny felt teary all of a sudden. She had the best friends in the world—but they were wrong about her. She bit back her tears and said, “Love you, man.”
Vanessa sighed. “Love you, man,” she returned softly.
Jenny slid the phone into her pocket and began a slow walk back to the inn. Her head was full of the conflict of doubts and the steady drum of confidence that this was right. It was a huge thing for her to do, and it was true she had no track record of doing huge things. But there was always a first time, wasn’t there? Something had brought her to this inn. Something had drawn her to Edan Mackenzie, something deeper than a surface infatuation. This place, and that man beckoned her soul.
It sounded insane, even to her. But Jenny believed, and while it very well might be insane, it didn’t mean she didn’t feel it any less.
What Edan felt about her, she couldn’t say. And she couldn’t concern herself with it—whatever happened, the most important thing was that she was true to herself.
At the moment she had that thought, the sun divided the clouds and Edan emerged from the wooded path that she now knew led up to his aunt’s grave. Jenny stopped walking. This was true serendipity.
He looked up and paused on the path just ahead of her. “Jenny?”
“Hi,” she said, and waved a little. She took a cautious step forward. “Nice evening.”
“Aye.” His expression was soft. Slightly affectionate.
“So umm…” She could suddenly hear Lorenzo in her head, warning her not to pursue him. So she said, “I was hoping I’d run into you.” Forget Lorenzo.
“Were you?” He smiled warmly.
“I want to ask you something.”
“Aye, and what is that?”
Good question, Outlander. Jenny took another step forward. “I wanted to ask about lodging. Not for me. For others. Like, how is it?”
His brows dipped. “I donna understand.”
She drew a breath. She’d never been good at beating around a bush. “I guess I should come right out and say it. I’m thinking of buying the inn.”
He looked stunned. “You’re what?”
“I’m thinking of buying your inn.” She smiled hopefully.
He shoved his hands into his pockets as she took another step toward him. “This inn,” he said, as if there were dozens to choose from.
“This one.”
One of his dark brows slowly arched above the other. She was struck by the amazing shine of his eyes in the waning light of day. So deep, so sexy, so full of want. Granted, that might be a bit of projecting on her part, but still.
“It’s no’ easy, managing an inn,” he said.
“I know. Well, I assumed. But I will learn. I really want to learn.”
He nodded. His eyes moved over her. “We should talk about it, aye?”
Jenny nodded.
He gestured to the path. Jenny pulled her sweater tighter around her and began to walk with him.
She sucked at this, the silent strolling. She could imagine if they were married for fifty years, she’d still feel that insane urge to talk at moments like this. “I had the most amazing salmon tonight,” she said, apropos of nothing.
“Ah.”
“I thought you’d be interested. Since you love fishing so much, you know. I am finally getting why someone would like to fish. It’s thrilling when you actually catch something, and honestly, I feel a little enlightened. You know how it is, you go along in life thinking that you really hate something, like brussels sprouts, and you are so convinced that you hate brussels sprouts that you begin to believe you must hate them because they give you hives or something, and then one day, you end up eating brussels sprouts and they’re delicious, and you think hey…why did I think I hated brussels sprouts?” She looked at him. “That’s fishing.”
“Interesting theory,” he said, his eyes, which were deep sea green now and shining with amusement.
Jenny imagined a tiny version of herself getting on a tiny boat to explore the sea of Edan. “Is it?” she murmured.
He smiled and took her elbow, steering her to the left. “No.”
He escorted her to the back of the inn, and into his quarters, through the kitchen, and into a room with soaring ceilings. It was tastefully furnished with overstuffed chairs, a thick, shaggy rug, and built-in cases stuffed full with books. This is exactly how she would have pictured his living space.
He carried on, to an adjoining office. The windows in here were as tall as the ceiling, completely unadorned, and framing a spectacular view of the woods and the lake. His desk was very neat—nothing but his laptop, a stack of papers in a tray, and a single pen. Were it not for a pair of men’s shoes kicked to one side, she would think he never used this room.
Jenny had an image of him on a cold winter night, all alone, surfing the internet and giving in to flash sales on fishing poles.
Edan went to a small table and opened a crystal decanter. “Whisky?” Jenny shook her head. He poured himself a finger of whisky, and then turned around to face her. “Might I ask what made you think to purchase the inn?”
Jenny looked around the paneled walls, the thick beamed ceiling overhead. How many years had this house stood here? How many ghosts had slipped in and out of its walls? She couldn’t wait to find out. She couldn’t wait to learn everything there was about it. “I don’t know. I feel drawn to it. I feel like this is where I belong.”
He sipped the whisky. “Have you any notion of what it entails, running an inn?”
“You mean besides what I googled last night? No.”
He glanced down at his glass, as if considering his words. When he looked up he said, “It’s no’ something you do on the fly, Jenny—”
“Stop,” Jenny said, holding up her hand. She would hear the speech she knew was coming from everyone else, but she did not want to hear it from Edan. Anyone but him. “Look, Edan, I know how I come across. I know I seem like I flit around like a hummingbird. But I’ve needed something for a very long time, and I think I’ve found it. I’ve spent the last nineteen years arranging my life around someone who didn’t need me in the end. When my dad told me to go get my own life, it made me realize that I have forgotten how to think about what I need. I’m doing that now. So I can’t explain why now, or why here. I can only tell you that I feel it, and I feel it strongly. I need this and I have confidence in me even if no one else does.”
Several moments of silence ticked by. Edan was looking at her intently, and Jenny resisted the urge to fidget. She knew what he thought. He thought she was silly. Impetuous. Maybe he even thought she was dumb.
“I understand,” he said softly. He put his glass aside. “I completely understand forgetting to think about what you need.”
He said nothing more than that, and they stood for a moment, looking at each other. She wondered if he was waiting for her to say good night. Whatever he was thinking, Jenny’s spirit was once again unwilling to let the silence just be. “I’m going to sell the nutballs at the inn.”
His eyes wandered over her, and her hair, which she’d left loose to dry after her bath, down her dress and sweater, to her legs, to her feet and her sandals. His gaze was hot. Intent. And it lit a furnace in her.
“I brought them to the dining room and they were a big hit,” she said, her voice sounding a little weird to her. “Everyone was talking about them. These nutballs are amazing,” she said, mimicking the voice of a crowd.
Edan reached for her hand and pulled her closer.
“If they go that crazy over nutballs, imagine what they’d do with my red velvet cake.”
He cupped her face with his hands. “Imagine,” he muttered, and kissed her.
If there was one thing that could make Jenny shut up, it was a great kiss and the prospect of great sex. She sank into Edan. Something had shifted between them, as if they’d come to an unspoken mutual agreement—they were into each other. At least sexually—she wasn’t going to overthink it. Jenny was firmly planted in the headspace of letting fate come to her. She was going to go with the flow, and the flow was hot and sexy.
She could feel the heat of his body through his shirt, could feel her own blood rising to the surface. He touched her hair, pulling his fingers through it, and then slid his hand around her nape.
Jenny began to lose sense of time and where she was, exactly. She was completely submerged in the electric sensations of his hands and his mouth on her body. He touched her everywhere—her breasts, between her legs, her arms, her hips. His lips were both soft and demanding and tormented her, making her blood rush hot in her veins.
He moved down her body, his mouth on her abdomen as he flipped off one sandal, and then the other. He slowly rose back up, his hands trailing behind his mouth. They were moving, Jenny realized, and her sweater had come off. There were too many articles of clothing between them, too many fabrics, and she was grabbing at his shirt, pulling it from his trousers, her fingers running up the buttons. When she at last had his shirt undone and off his body he paused and regarded her with his deep, sea-green eyes.
“My God, Edan. You’re gorgeous,” she said.
He ran his hand roughly over her head. “What a bonny lass you are,” he said.
Jenny melted. She was an aroused lass, too.
They kept moving, lips and hands on each other, until Jenny realized they were in a bedroom. He had a platform bed and his things were scattered about. A pair of shoes, some jeans draped over a chair. A tray on the dresser where a few bills were visible. Two dog beds, which had been inhabited by two dogs until he shooed them out and shut the door.
He turned around to her and took her in. He pushed her disheveled hair behind her ear, stroked her chin. “I am surprised by you,” he said softly. “You were the last thing I expected to arrive at the inn, aye? And yet, here you are.”
She reached for his belt. “You surprised me, too. I was expecting a gramps-and-grandma kind of operation. Not a man in a kilt.”
He kissed her. “I want you, Jenny,” he whispered into her ear. “I want you in a way I didna think possible.”
The throaty way he uttered those words spiraled through her and erupted into tiny little explosions of light inside her. “I want you, too—”
“I donna want to interfere with the path you are exploring, but I canna help but ask if you’re certain this is what you want.”
She kissed his face, his neck. “I am more than certain. Don’t you want to lose those pants?”
“I mean the inn, aye? This life.”
“The inn is literally the furthest thing from my mind right now,” she said, and slipped her hands around his waist.
“It can be a solitary life, aye? There are days, particularly in the winter, that seem so long without a body to keep you warm. I want you to have someone, Jenny. I want you to feel needed and loved—”
“Edan, seriously, you’re finally going to talk now?” she asked, and threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.
Edan caught her waist, twirled her around, and threw them both onto the bed. Jenny giggled at the bit of bouncing they did.
“There is quite a lot I have to say about your alarming idea,” he said, and began to move down her body, rolling her to one side to unzip her dress. “But I suppose it can wait.” He shimmied the dress down her body, and Jenny’s laughter began to fade into panting.
He bit at her panties, dragging them down her body with his teeth. He expertly removed her bra, then traced her body with his hands in one long caress. Jenny felt as if she’d been starved for weeks, and he was the sustenance she needed. Jenny could feel his racing pulse beneath her lips, the muscles working in his back and hips as he explored her body. He kissed and stroked her, arousing her to delirious pleasure, and just when she thought she’d have to beg, he fumbled in a bedstand for a condom.
She was beside herself with desire, and when he rolled onto his back and put her on top, Jenny was eager to move things along. She began to move on him, sliding up and down his erection.
But Edan put his hands on her hips and slowed her. “You’ve really caught me by surprise, aye?”
“That’s what you said,” she breathlessly agreed, and tried to maneuver herself onto his cock.
“It must be true that lightning strikes when you’re least—”
“Edan!” she said, and leaned over him, her hair spilling around them. “Stop talking,” she said, and silenced him with a deep kiss.
He returned her kiss with one that was hard and full of purpose and passion and need. He began to move with her and slid solidly into her body. Jenny gasped with pleasure. She was lost from that moment, riding along as Edan captained the ship.
Edan abruptly flipped her onto her back, draped one of her legs over his shoulder, and tenderly caressed her face as he moved in her, reverently kissing her lips and her skin. Jenny had never felt more desirable to a man in her life. Her response to his attention built to an explosion, catapulting her into pure ecstasy, a release so spectacular that she was certain none would ever compare again.
Edan’s release was just as explosive; he came with a deep groan of satisfaction. When he stilled, he covered her face with breathless kisses and carefully rolled off of her to lay beside her, tangling his fingers with hers as he sought his breath. Jenny was gulping for air, too, but she felt as if she were still soaring high above them.
“Magical,” Edan said.
Magical. His choice of word thrilled her, because that is exactly what she would have said. It was magical.
“And I donna say so lightly. I’ve been hiding from truth for too long now. I’ll no’ hide any longer.”
Jenny opened her eyes and blinked. What truth was he talking about?
“I suppose I get caught up in the work like everyone, aye?” He stroked her hair, twined some of it around a finger. “I’ve been thinking about the back of the inn. Seems as good a good place as any for a terrace and maybe an outdoor bar.”
He’d been thinking about it? Did that mean he wanted to stay? Jenny’s heart began to patter a little harder. She rolled onto her side, propped herself up on her elbow and stared down at him.
“We’d have little use of it in winter, but in the summer, it would be bonny. There’s the cottage at the end of the lane, as well,” he mused as he brushed the tip of a tress of her hair across her collarbone. “Clara thought it would make a good honeymoon suite.”
“Who are you?” she asked. “You’ve said more in the last half hour than you have all week.”
He smiled at her.
She smiled back. She was probably letting her emotions run wild, but Jenny felt like something profound had happened to her. Like a secret door had opened and warm, bright light had come streaming in. She could feel every single beat of her heart; she could feel the emotions churning. Everything was different for her this time. Edan, this inn—all of it.
“There’s an inn in the Hamptons that I’d like to see. It’s got quite an excellent reputation,” he said, and began to talk about improvements that he thought could be made to the Cassian Inn.
She discovered she loved listening to him talk. She loved his Scottish brogue, she loved the feel of him next to her. She loved planning a future, hearing him talk about the things that made her indescribably happy. She buried herself into his side and listened. It was like he’d finally unlocked the gates and miscellaneous thoughts and ideas were rushing out. Jenny understood completely. He’d at last pushed past the trauma of his broken engagement. He was ready to take part in the world again.
But it turned out that even Jenny had her limits. When Edan began to talk about the maintenance required for the golf course, she had to silence him with a kiss. And more. Much more. She learned something else that night—she was not the only one who was made mute by great sex.
By the time sleep overtook her, Jenny was happy and sated, both emotionally and physically. She’d reached across an invisible divide and had brought Edan to her side. She ought to have a tiara, one that indicated she was the queen of perception and understanding of others. A tiara with lots of diamonds, she thought sleepily as she began to drift away.
She was feeling quite content when she awoke the next morning.
The sun streamed in through the windows of Edan’s room, and Jenny smiled and rolled onto her back, stretching long…but the sheets were cool. She rolled onto her side.
Edan was not here.
She sat up and looked around. He was not in the bathroom, as the door was standing open and the light was off. She got up, found most of her clothes, and padded into his office in search of her sandals.
As she looked around, she heard Edan in the kitchen and walked in there, prepared to give him a big smoochy kiss. He was standing behind the kitchen island with a cup of tea in his hand, and he smiled when she came in. “Morning.”
But Jenny’s heart stopped beating. She knew instantly that something had changed. Chatty Cathy had disappeared, and stoic, quiet, Edan Mackenzie had returned. He was already dressed for the day in slacks and shirt and tie. And there were her sandals and her sweater, folded and stacked neatly on one of the kitchen chairs.
She was being sent on her way. Jenny couldn’t believe it—the magic of last night was dissipating like fog in sun, and she was being sent on her fucking way. She wasn’t sure what to do—she hadn’t imagined the connection between them. “Good morning,” she said, and slid her arms, loosy-goosy, across the kitchen island, playfully reaching for him.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. Her forehead.
Jenny slowly rose up. Maybe she should have been angry, but she actually felt a little sorry for Edan that he couldn’t seem to get out of his own damn way.
Or was he a fox, like Lorenzo had warned her? Was he escaping what he saw were her clutches? But she’d felt such profound things last night, and dammit, so had he!
Her confusion turned to anger, but Jenny had her pride, and she wasn’t going to let him see her disappointment. Right now, the only thing she could think about was getting out of here without slinking.
“Tea?” he asked.
“No thank you. No time for that,” she said cheerfully. “I’ve got a lot to do today.” She grabbed her sandals and slid them on, then picked up her sweater. “Looks like a great day. Not a cloud in the sky!” She walked around the kitchen island and rose up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for last night. That’s just what the doctor ordered—fantastic sex.”
Edan looked down at his teacup and Jenny had the sense he was suddenly searching for words. Maybe he’d expended his weekly allotment last night. Maybe he was truly at a loss. And maybe he was like every other guy who was in it just for the sex—he didn’t know how to tell her that’s all it had been. See? This was precisely why a woman needed non-negotiables! Just one other thing her friends were right about.
“Hey, don’t look serious,” she said, truly furious now. “Not everything is so serious.” She smiled, patted his cheek, and made herself walk to the kitchen door and out onto the terrace. She had to force herself not to run like she wanted, because she could feel his eyes on her. But what she really wanted was to flee to some distant corner of the earth and nurse her wounds.