“Ah, right.” He smiled then grimaced, gingerly touching his mouth. “Damn, I’ve got to get going. I have a meeting in an hour, and I can’t have Margo on my ass.”
He kissed me lightly and headed for the dressing room.
* * *
Later that afternoon, Jack left for Chicago on a work trip, and I never got to say that I loved him. Three days of extreme withdrawals…and I felt like a piece of me was missing.
But with the wedding just over a week away, and the bachelorette party this weekend, I got snowed under trying to get things done—and with spending time with Nigel.
Jack got back late last night, waking me up with kisses down my jaw to my throat, his hand between my thighs… I sighed at the memory. I couldn’t wait to see him later—
“Can’t we have drinks at home and call it my bachelorette bash?” my sister’s cajoling voice pulled me back to the chatter and clinking of cutlery in Moretti’s.
This Friday afternoon, lunch had been Ila’s treat at the trendy, upscale restaurant in the city. But no matter the delicious food and decadent dessert, two hours of trying to convince my hermit sister why a weekend getaway was a good idea for her bachelorette and some R&R was giving me a headache.
“No, it isn’t. You need to unwind, have fun.” I cut her a gimlet stare. “Or Max is gonna have a lump of tangled knots in his bed on your honeymoon.”
Her smooth brow puckered, her amber eyes darkening with frustration. “I don’t like secret getaways. I can have fun in my own home. I’m having fun here with you right now.”
“Yes, arguing with me.” I rolled my eyes, picked up my white wine spritzer, and took a gulp.Lord, give me strength.“I need the loo. Be right back. And think about it,” I begged.
A few minutes later, as I exited the restroom, my cell rang.
I retrieved it from my pants’ pocket. At Dad’s name, I answered, a little wary. “Hey, Daddykins.”
“Ray, sweetheart, I haven’t spoken to you since you left during the festival.”
Guilt squeezed my stomach. “I’m sorry. It’s just that Jack’s grandfather—”
“I know. It’s okay. I hope he’s doing better?”
“Yes, he is, and he’s back home. He has to take things easy for a while. How’s Mom?” I changed the subject.
At his silence, my stomach clenched. “Dad?”
“She’s…okay. Dr. Garrick encourages a little bed rest and quiet time, but she hates that, as you know. Says I stifle her.”
Despite the wry tone I picked up in his voice, I sensed his worry, and knew what Dad wasn’t saying, the genuine fear that lingered in all our thoughts. Mom could have a bad stroke and-and… Swallowing the lump in my throat, unable to think the word, I locked my dread deep within me. No need for my sister to get upset, too, especially when she had a lot going on. “I can come home—”
“No, not with the wedding so close. Ila needs you. And don’t tell her anything, or she’ll fret. Ray, if Ila requires help with the wedding, let me know. Because we both know she won’t ask even if she does.”
True, but my mind remained fixed on Mom. “Dad, you’ll let me know if you need me, right?”
“I will, sweet pea. I’d better go. I just wanted to remind you that we’ll be checking into the Carlton on Wednesday for rehearsals.” A sigh escaped him, and I knew why. Max had refused to let him pay for anything. He’d only relented on Ila’s dress under the threat that she wouldn’t marry him.
“Okay. Love you, Daddykins.” I ended the call. Inhaling a deep, steadying breath, I made my way back to Ila, and our table near the window.
She cast me a curious look as I sat down. “You were gone for a while.”
“Dad called, wanted to know if we needed any help with the wedding. You know, financially, muscles. Anything?”
She snort-laughed. “No.”
“Yeah, told him so. They’re checking into the Carlton on Wednesday.”
“Oh, good.” She moved her water glass to another spot, then sighed. “This had better be good, Ray. Just R&R.”
Yes! Relief took hold. Thank God. “But of course.” I blinked innocently. “Cross my heart, Ila. Everything I do is only for your enjoyment.”
