The Wonder of You (25 page)

From behind him, hands went over his eyes. “You’re late.”

He caught her hands and turned. Grace smiled at him, arching her arms around his neck. “Welcome to Evergreen Resort.”

Then she kissed him, her lips soft, molding herself to his body, warm and intimate. He wrapped his arms around her, not realizing he’d been this hungry until he had her close. How could it be that he’d forgotten how amazing she smelled, how she tasted, and how, in her arms, the world stopped, folded in around the edges, and pocketed him in that quiet place of joy?

Yeah, he’d definitely stop trying so hard not to be happy.

She leaned back, grinned at him, stroked his cheek.

“Please tell me this isn’t the greeting you give all your guests.”

She lifted a shoulder. “Only the especially handsome ones.”

“Nice, Mrs. Sharpe.”

“I like how you say that.” She kissed him again, then ran her hand over his freshly shorn hair. “The summer cut, I see.”

“Reboot. It’ll be long enough by camp.” He set her away from him so he could pop the trunk and pull out his duffel. “And speaking of a reboot . . .” He closed the trunk and caught her hand, meeting her beautiful blue eyes. “How about we revisit that conversation about adopting. Just give me some time, babe. I think it’s totally on the table. I just need to get used to, well, us. And before we do anything, please, we tell your parents.”

She folded her fingers into his, walking with him toward the house. “Absolutely. First thing in the morning.”

“Aw, Grace. Seriously?” He stopped, pulled her close again, pressed his lips against her hair, then leaned down and whisper-kissed her neck, his voice turning husky. “I’ve missed you so much this week.”

She curled her hands into his shirt, trembling a little. “They’re
already asleep, so no one will notice if I sneak into your room. But you have to promise not to let me fall asleep. I can see it now
 
—me coming out of the den, dressed in your hockey sweater, to my family eating pancakes.”

“Oh, I’d like to see that.” He grinned.

She gave him a swat on the shoulder. “Max! I can promise you, you wouldn’t.”

He caught her around the waist and kissed her again, right there in the moonlight. “You make me so happy, I could cry,” he said, real moisture crazily in his eyes.

“Oh, Max,” she said softly, her hands cradling his face.

“Listen.” He touched his forehead to hers. “I promise you we will live happily ever after. Regardless of what it looks like to everyone else.”

She gave him a slow, glorious nod before she leaned in and kissed him.

As it turned out, he hadn’t packed his hockey sweater. Grace had her own clothes anyway, her yoga pants and T-shirt. But as the sun cascaded in through the den window, as the sounds of the family breakfasting in the next room nudged him awake, he kissed his beautiful wife with frowsy bed head and took a tight hold on her words.

“Babe,” he said as she shot up, fully awake, her eyes wide. “Stay calm. I’ve got this.”

H
ER LOVE LIFE
had gone from feast to famine in a week’s time.

Amelia sat at the breakfast table Saturday morning with her laptop open, choosing the ten allowed photos for the first round of the Capture America contest, having been accepted into the running with her application photo.

She was painfully aware that her Friday night had consisted of writing an e-mail to the Gundersons about their daughter’s upcoming wedding/photo shoot in Deep Haven, watching Grace teach Sorry! to Yulia while checking her phone for texts from Max, coloring Ninja Turtles with Tiger as he waited for his father to finish checking in the guests arriving at the resort for the weekend, and occasionally checking her own cell phone. Just in case someone
 
—namely a tall, dark, and charming Englishman
 
—might call.

Nothing. Nada. It was as if, after picking her up, carrying her to Jake’s plane in those strong arms, leaving behind a trail of desire that only deepened with each memory, he’d vanished.

Not a call. Not a single flower. Not even a glimpse of him at the Java Cup in nearly a week.

“You haven’t seen Roark lately, have you?” She addressed it to her family
 
—her father, mother, and Darek, who hung out at the counter, diving into a pan of sour cream coffee cake her mother had baked this morning. She’d made twelve smaller batches, one for each cabin, and the smell could probably revive the dead with the belief all would be well in the world.

And with the sky arching a pale, cloudless blue overhead, the sun bright, the buds on the lilacs open and fragrancing the warming early summer air, one might be justified in believing that.

At Amelia’s question, Ingrid shook her head, but John shot a look at Darek, then took his coffee and walked to the sofa, where he set the cup on a side table and picked up the paper.

Huh.

“Darek?”

“I . . . He came up yesterday, but you were in town.”

“And you didn’t tell me? You didn’t ask him to stick around, say, for dinner?”

Darek took a sip of coffee. “Don’t get your knickers in a knot there, Sis. Yeah, I did, but he had plans.”

A beat. “Plans?”

“Dinner with Jensen and Claire.”

“Now he’s making friends? In Deep Haven?”

“Did you expect to be his entire world, Amelia? He’s trying to belong here
 
—and that means getting to know people,” Ingrid said. “I think his efforts are admirable. He’s even
 
—”

“Mom.” Darek cut his mother off.

Amelia looked at him, frowned. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Darek sipped his coffee. Glanced at their mother.

“Oh, great. More secrets. I warned him
 
—even one secret and it was . . .”

But her words died as the door to the den opened. The room went silent, deadly silent, as Max emerged, holding Grace’s hand.

They looked freshly woken, Grace’s hair mussed, Max’s shorn short, signaling the end of hockey season. He wore a T-shirt, one that accentuated all his hockey training, and a pair of sweatpants. Grace wore the same clothes she’d been in last night.

Oh, my. She’d noticed Grace’s bed was empty when she rose but thought her sister had taken an early run into town for supplies.

Amelia watched as her father slowly put down his paper. A muscle tensed in his jaw.

Grace gave a feeble smile, first to her father, then to her mother. She glanced at Amelia, who shook her head.

Busted.

Sure, they were engaged, but Grace, along with every other member of the family, had pledged to wait until she was actually married before staying overnight together. More than a Christiansen family rule, it was a promise based in their faith.

Not that others hadn’t broken it
 
—namely Darek and Owen. But Grace had always been the holy one, the one most likely to hear and obey God.

Yet Grace had shattered her promise, right there, in front of everyone. No wonder she looked a little white.

And Max
 
—yeah, by the look on Darek’s face, he’d better head at a full sprint out the door. Not put his arm around Grace, pull her close.

“I know this looks bad,” Max started, and that’s when John got to his feet. “But we can explain.”

“Really? Please don’t tell me you were watching a
Doctor Who
marathon. Or honing your Dutch Blitz skills,” John said in a quiet, lethal tone. “It’s fairly clear what’s going on here.”

“Dad,” Grace started.

“I got this, honey,” Max said.

Darek put down his coffee as if to free up his hands.

And while Amelia had suspected . . . well, exactly this . . . to have her sister and Max so brutally outed in front of the entire family gave her the strangest urge to get up, maybe stand beside Grace, who at the moment looked like she might cry.

This could get ugly, fast.

“We haven’t . . .” Max glanced at Grace with such a tender expression, it only added to the confusion in the room. “We haven’t done anything you wouldn’t approve of.”

John cocked his head to one side. Darek’s eyes narrowed.

“Because . . .” Max drew in a breath. “We’re already married.”

Silence. Amelia’s heart hiccuped a beat in her chest.

“What?” Ingrid said, and suddenly Amelia feared her mother unraveling more than her father. “What did you say?”

Grace’s arms went around Max’s waist. “We eloped. About a month ago.”

“A
month
ago?” This from Darek, but it could have been voiced by any of them, including Amelia. “You got married a month ago, and you didn’t tell anyone?”

Max nodded. “We kept trying to, but . . . there was the accident at the river, and then Yulia came to stay, and then Roark showed up, and there was never a good time
 
—”

“What? Were you going to wait until Christmas?” John looked undone. “Max, you stayed under my roof for over a week . . .”

“Grace snuck down to his room.”

It just came out of Amelia, an almost-involuntary spurt, driven by the anger, the betrayal forming in her chest. “Every night, she’d sneak downstairs, then back up again before morning
 
—”

“Amelia!” Grace glared at her, a layer of fury forming in her eyes that Amelia hadn’t seen since their growing-up years.

“It’s true
 
—”

“Should I mention again that we are
marrie
d
?” Max gave Amelia a look he probably reserved for a game. “We were waiting for the right time
 
—and no, it wouldn’t have been Christmas. In fact, we were going to tell you all today. Just not . . . right . . . now.”

Ingrid let out a ragged breath. “Where . . . ?”

“We flew down to Cancún right after Max’s last game.” Grace unlatched herself from Max, went over to Ingrid. “It was just getting so complicated. Max wanted something small, but I wasn’t sure how to cut our guest list down, and with the resort opening and everyone so busy, we couldn’t find a date. And . . . yes, we were a little selfish. We wanted to be married as soon as we could. . . . Please understand, Mom.”

Ingrid still wore a wide-eyed, pale expression. Her eyes glistened. “But now your father doesn’t get to give you away. . . . I don’t get to see you walk down the aisle.”

Amelia’s stomach tightened at her mother’s disappointment. Yeah, she got it
 
—with the threat of Max’s disease, every moment was precious. And maybe she shouldn’t have told on Grace like that, but the fact was, she’d stolen that moment from the family, a moment that could never be repeated. Not unforgivable, but selfish.

“You lied to us,” Amelia said as Grace let go of her mother. “You snuck around and lied to us.”

Grace frowned. “I . . . I’m sorry, Amelia. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone
 
—”

“You couldn’t have told me? I share a room with you. I thought
 
—” She glanced at Max, then back to Grace. “I’m not a child, Grace. I kept Casper and Raina’s secret about the baby until she and Casper told the family. He trusted me
 
—why couldn’t you?”

“What? I was going to tell you before I told Mom and Dad?” Grace said. “Sorry, Ames, I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I guess telling you wasn’t my first priority.”

Her words ignited something deeper in Amelia, something she couldn’t name, that came out in a strange, ugly diatribe. “Of course it wasn’t, because no one tells me anything! Roark comes to visit me and Darek refuses to mention it, and now Roark and Darek are keeping some kind of secret from me. Mom’s in on it
 
—probably Dad too. Apparently my entire family thinks I’m still a child who can’t handle the truth!”

She was on her feet now, shaking, her words reverberating through the room.

She had the vague sense of wishing them back.

Especially when her father turned to her. “No one is treating you like a child except you right now,” John said quietly. “Your sister has a right to keep her secrets
 
—although, yes, Grace, Max, you should have told us earlier instead of sneaking around. And as for Roark
 
—well, that business is between you and him. If you want to know what he’s up to, I suggest you ask him.”

“Maybe I will. If he hasn’t already left town, that is. Please tell me the big secret isn’t that you scared him off
 
—”

“Take a breath, Ames,” Darek said. “We like Roark. A lot.
Especially after he helped us out last weekend. So if he leaves, it won’t be because of us.”

He left the rest silent. Like it might be because of her actions
 
—or inaction, perhaps.

Suddenly it occurred to her that maybe she’d been the one to drive Roark away in Prague. After all, he’d shown up at her door, begging to explain, and she’d slammed it in his face, embracing betrayal instead of explanation. Fleeing instead of forgiving.

She closed her eyes and took that breath Darek had suggested. Turned toward the window. She was so concerned with making another mistake, being foolish in front of her family, that maybe she was driving away the one man who didn’t see her as young and naive. Even when she acted like it.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

She felt Grace’s hand on her shoulder. “What’s the real problem here?”

Moisture wicked her eyes. “I don’t know. It’s just, he came all the way over here for me. He believes in me
 
—more than I believe in myself. He’s lived this big life. He’s not going to want to live a small one, here. What if I’m not enough for him?”

She pressed a hand to her mouth, horrified that she’d let those words sneak out, especially in front of her family.

Grace wrapped her arms around Amelia’s shoulders. “Trust me. You’re enough.”

Amelia said nothing, sifting Grace’s words through her brain.

“Do you still love him?”

Amelia sighed. “Not like I did in Prague. There, I was all big eyes and wow and dependent on him. Here . . . I don’t know if he fits into my life. But when I was with him on the canoe trip, I remembered the way he made me feel in Prague. Confident. Like together
we could tackle anything. When I am with him, it seems like I’m a better version of myself. I want him to fit into my life . . . I think.”

“Give him a chance,” Darek said. “You might be surprised.”

Amelia looked at him, a frown on her face. “Since when did you become a fan?”

“I think we’re all becoming fans.”

Grace let Amelia go, walked over to Max. He kissed her forehead, and the action reminded Amelia of Roark’s confession about his parents, the night he seemed human and real.
I want to kiss you right now. . . . But I’m afraid you’ll only think it’s a fling. So I’m willing to wait until you
know
I mean it.

She wanted a man like Max, who wasn’t afraid to stand up for her to her parents, her brothers. To declare his love.

Yeah, she’d gotten that in Roark. And frankly, in Seth too.

“You know why he hasn’t called, don’t you, Darek?”

Darek sighed. “Go talk to him.”

Amelia nodded. “No more secrets.”

“I think this has gone far enough, Roark.” Ethan, in one square of the Skype screen, shook his head, a glass of something amber in his hand, the view of some clubhouse behind him
 
—a sprawling lawn, the occasional laughter of the highbrow set relaxing after a round of golf. “You’re properly out of your mind.”