her face suggested she was seeing my father in him, just as I had at first. The resemblance was uncanny tonight.
Once she passed the shock, though, he was a hit, and why not? He gave her a big hug, told her she looked great, asked about the drive. He was appropriately concerned about her hip without ever apologizing for his absence. In what I thought was a brilliant move, he had baked a batch of her fabled pecan sandies. This was not typically Liam. As a chef, he had always preferred entrees to desserts. I could never remember his baking, much less following one of Mom’s own recipes. The fact that he had today was an homage to her, as was his warning that his weren’t as good as hers.
My mother looked him in the eye. “You hate pecan sandies.”
“Not always,” Liam replied with just the right amount of deference. “You like them, which is all that matters.”
She was flattered, which as far as I was concerned, was all that mattered.
* * *
The owner’s suite was perfect. Rich in Devon charm with its custom wool carpets, blend of natural and painted wood, and rich leather accessories, it was done up in soothing shades of blue and tan, all of it warmly lit by lamps. Sofas and chairs were wool and chenille, a fine mix of plaids, solids, and stripes. The bathroom was marble, with a tub that was likely too deep for my mother to navigate, but there was also a stunningly oversized, glass-enclosed shower with a bench, hold bars, and a floor of embedded stones. And there were flowers—bud vases in the bathrooms, and in the living room and dining area, full arrangements of tulips to match the décor. Everywhere here, the smell was pine, much as Edward’s office had been—pine lotion, pine potpourri, pine candles, pine fragrance sticks.
She walked around at first, both for her hip’s sake and curiosity, and I let her tell me where to put her clothes, books, and medicine. After settling her on the sofa and ordering dinner from room service, I left her with Liam. Now that the ice was broken, he seemed delighted to talk about what he’d been doing since leaving Connecticut.
Since I had no car here, Edward drove me home. I needed to pack enough for a few overnights, but, even more, I needed my pets. Bringing them here would have been upsetting for them, and besides, they were only part of the picture. I needed my hilly road, my house, my old life, because this one seemed to be growing more complex by the minute. Once we left the Inn, everything I had denied earlier rushed back.
The car was dark, the night even darker. A light drizzle was falling again, and between the darkness, the rain, and the confines of the Jeep, my worries had nowhere to go but back into the gathering swirl in my head. When Edward reached out a hand, I pulled it into my lap and held on tightly.
“Having second thoughts?” he asked.
I glanced his way. Spikes of hair, straight nose, neat beard—his profile was vague in the murk, but what I couldn’t physically see, my mind filled in. He was stability. I clung to that as I did to his hand and gave a mildly hysterical laugh. “About which part—bringing her here, meeting with Zwick, or consorting with you?”
“All of the above,” he said.
“All of the above,” I confirmed and let slip the noise in my head. “What if Mom hates it here? What if she finds she can’t stand seeing me after all? What if Grace is into something serious—I mean, really serious—like something that overshadows anything Chris might have done, so her life is at risk?”
“Do you think that?” he cut in.
“I don’t know, but what if something ticks off Shanahan, and he makes an issue of it, and my past comes out? What if Ben Zwick already knows my past? And this meeting? What if Grace refuses to see him or storms out when she hears what he says and then hates me for setting her up? What if you’re pulled into it and the Inn suffers and your group votes you out? What if my probation is revoked?”
He was silent for so long that I wondered if he was having second thoughts himself. But he didn’t pull his hand back. His fingers stayed around mine, tight as ever. We were turning onto Pepin Hill when he said, “I love you.”