Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Lou
Panic sank like a stone into my stomach, shattering the churning heat.
“Frankie.” My unmetered heartbeat took another tumble, and I almost knocked the cup of water out of Wade’s hand as I went to greet my twin.
She stood in the doorway in a pair of burnt orange pants and her favorite navy sweatshirt that read Mama Bear on the front. Her hair was loose around her face. It was always loose whenever she didn’t have the baby with her. And even though she smiled at me—and at Wade—curiosity at who he was and why we’d been standing so close lined her gaze, and that put me on edge.
A curious Frankie was unpredictable.
My breaths turned shallow as I approached her. The story I’d spun pulsed like a live grenade in my palms. One wrong more inadvertently—or advertently—on her part could pull the pin and send my entire life up in smoke.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I asked, quickly hugging her and trying to steer her from the room and as far from Wade as possible .
“And what do you mean, what am I doing here? I came to see if everything was okay.” Her brow creased, but more importantly, her feet remained rooted where they stood. “Max told me about the accident last night when he stopped to pick up candles this morning for his summer bundle.”
Max.
I nodded slowly, adrenaline firing off warning flares in my brain. “Frankie?—”
“Hello.” Wade’s smooth voice by my side made me shiver.
I smiled quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice how fragile it was, how it cracked and quivered, ready to break under the slightest pressure. Frankie noticed though. She looked at my smile like I’d just put a Band-Aid on a bullet hole.
“Hi, I’m Frankie Collins,” she greeted. It was still strange to hear her use her married name. Less strange at how effortlessly she absorbed it as though it was always meant to be a part of her. “I’m Lou’s sister. Obviously,” she tacked on with her usual brash.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Wade?—”
“Frankie, can I talk to you a minute about Logan?” I interrupted him, grabbing my sister’s hand.
Frankie’s brows lifted at the mention of her newborn son, Logan, but didn’t protest.
“If you could excuse us. I’ll be right back.” I shot Wade a brief, apologetic smile, and pulled my sister toward the kitchen and away from a conversation that could ruin everything.
Two steps into the hallway, and I heard footsteps upstairs. Crap. People were awake and heading down for breakfast.
I looked over my shoulder to Wade, “If you could let any other guests who come down know about the buffet, and that the yogurt will be right out…”
“I’ll take care of it,” he said, the promise calming me way more than it should. So much for not needing his help.
“Lou, what’s going on? Who was that? Are you okay?” Frankie demanded as soon as I closed us in the kitchen.
“No.” I sagged my back to the door and buried my face in my hands. “I’m not okay.”
“I see that.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“To me? Yes.” She folded her arms. “And you’re a horrible liar, so I know you didn’t bring me in here to talk about Logan.”
Apparently not that horrible…
I pushed away from the door and went to the fridge. I needed something cold. I needed to be cold. My face was on fire. My body was still coming down from the thousand-degree moment when I’d wanted to kiss Wade, one kind of panic turning into another when Frankie showed up.
“Is this about what happened last night with Blaze?” Her voice lowered. “Max told me it was him who fell down the staircase.”
I groaned and opened the fridge door, basking in the chill for a very long second, and then reached for the boxes of individually wrapped yogurts.
“Something bad happened,” I began, setting the yogurt on the counter and wishing I could crawl back into the fridge and take its place.
Frankie’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, Lou. I’m sorry Blaze got hurt, but I’m sure he’s going to pull through just fine?—”
“That’s not it.” Just the thought of telling her what I’d done paralyzed me. I’d never shied away from telling my sister anything before, but this…
“Are you worried about what will happen? Oh, Lou…” She came over and pulled me into a tight hug. “You can’t think like that. It’s not good for you. ”
“No, he’s not—he won’t be,” I protested. “He’ll hate me when he learns what I’ve done.”
I felt the truth building in my throat, swelling the same way nausea would.
“What you’ve done?” She laughed softly and then tipped back from the embrace to look at me. “Unless you pushed him down those stairs, what could you have possibly done to make him hate you?—”
It swelled and rose and burned, and then it was bursting out of me, my body desperate to expel the truth that was causing so much turmoil.
“I pretended to be Blaze’s girlfriend, so I could go in the ambulance and be at the hospital to make sure he wasn’t going to die and his family wasn’t going to sue me?—”
“Wait, what?—”
“But now, he’s going to live, and when I tell them that I’ve lied to them, they’re still going to sue me, and I’ll lose the inn and everything I’ve worked for?—”
“Elouise Margaret Kinkade.” Frankie shook me. My runaway ramble halted as she stared at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. “What. Exactly. Did. You. Do?”
I heaved in a broken breath and formed the words more slowly, each one like another nail in the coffin of my dreams.
“When the paramedics came last night, they said I couldn’t go in the ambulance because I wasn’t family. But he wasn’t waking up, Frankie. His head was bleeding, he reeked of alcohol…” I trailed off and drew a tremulous breath as my sister’s hands moved to cup my cheeks, holding my head steady when it felt like my mind was going to spiral out of control. “I told them I was his girlfriend, and they let me go.”
“You…”
I swallowed hard and nodded.
“You…lied?”
I winced and grabbed hold of her wrists. “Well, technically but not intentionally… ”
“Of course, not intentionally.” She rolled her eyes.
“He asked two questions one right after another. I was trying to answer the first one, but he didn’t give me a chance. My yes came out as he asked if I was Blaze’s girlfriend, and before I could correct him, he was letting me in the ambulance, so I didn’t correct him…”
“Stop.” She jostled me. “Stop and breathe.”
Breathe. Right.
“I didn’t mean for it to go this far,” I said after a big inhale and turned away from her, opening the freezer and pulling out the bag of ice I used to fill the serving tray to keep the yogurt cold. “I thought we’d get there, and the doctor would tell me he passed out from the alcohol, and that with some fluids and meds, he’d wake right back up. I hoped.”
I shuddered, not even feeling the icy cold cubes on my fingers as I spread them around the tray, recalling the doctor’s voice. ‘It could be a couple of days to months before he wakes up. If he wakes up.’
“I told myself it was only the one EMT that misconstrued, and that as soon as I knew he was okay, I’d just leave, and it would just be a little misunderstanding.”
“But that’s not what happened.” Frankie grabbed one of the boxes, opening it and arranging the small yogurts in the ice.
“Worse,” I croaked.
“Lou…”
I pushed the ice around the tray in silence until it started to even out around the yogurts.
“The paramedics told the hospital staff. It was like… wildfire.” I wiped my hand on the side of my linen pants and then went to the pantry cabinet to get the granola. “Honestly, I couldn’t even think about correcting them. I was too worried if he was okay. Plus, he was alone… no one should be alone like that. Even unconscious. But before I even got an answer, his mom arrived.
“I didn’t realize she lived in Boston—that his family was from Boston. I thought they all lived in California. I thought I had time—” I broke off and took another steadying breath. “The nurse told her I was Blaze’s girlfriend before she even walked in the room, and when she did…”
“What happened?” Frankie came closer and took the big bag of granola out of my hand.
I peeled my eyes open, my bottom lip trembling as I answered, “It was like Mom when she saw Kit in the hospital after the bombing.”
That was all I needed to say to convey the depth and breadth of Joanna’s pain, sadness, and love… and why I couldn’t bring myself to rip the rug right out from under her when she clung to me for support.
“Oh, Lou.”
“Yeah,” I said, my voice a little hoarse. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”
“I mean…” Frankie tipped her head. “He is a celebrity who got injured on your property and his family are lawyers. And you are… you. You panicked the one time a guest got a splinter on the railing. I’m sure seeing him unconscious and bloody… worrying about him… the inn… you had to do something, and if pretending was the way to get answers…”
“Oh god. It’s something you would’ve done,” I groaned. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”
Frankie pursed her lips. “Rude.”
That made me smile just a little before it crumbled under the weight of guilt. “What do I do?” I asked in a whisper. “I can’t keep lying. I have to tell the truth and apologize.”
“Yes. You do.”
Wait. What? I balked and stared at her in confusion. “You’re agreeing with me?” I choked. “Who are you, and what have you done with my twin sister?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m agreeing in theory.”
I exhaled. There she was. “Frankie?—”
“You should tell the truth and apologize when Blaze wakes up.”
“What?” I stammered. “Then he’ll know?— ”
“He already knows.” She came closer to me, cupping her hands over mine on the counter. “Lou… that man has been holed up at your inn for weeks. You’ve brought food to his room—picked up meals from restaurants for him when they wouldn’t deliver. Gone to the grocery store for him. Gave him the mini fridge from your room. Folded his dry-cleaning. Made him fresh coffee at ten o’clock at night. And kept his secrets.”
I wouldn’t have called respecting his privacy as keeping his secrets but the rest she wasn’t wrong about.
“Blaze knows who you are—what you’ve done for him. When he wakes up, he will forgive your white lie and be your biggest ally.”
I hadn’t lied to hurt anyone, especially Blaze. I didn’t care who he was or how much money he had. I cared about my inn. My dream. I cared that if I lost it, I’d fade into the background for good. If I kept up the story until Blaze woke up…
“Just tell me how much money you want to drop the act, or go ahead with whatever your little plan is and face every legal resource at my disposal.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, Wade’s accusations from last night like a knife against my throat. If I told the truth now, when he hardly knew me—when there was only a fragment of trust between us, Wade would lump me right in with all the other women who’d betrayed his brother, and he’d make me pay. Even after his apology, I hardly knew him—couldn’t trust him. Why should I expect him to trust me? Trust my intentions?
But if Blaze were awake… if Blaze could tell him… I chewed on my bottom lip. Either I was losing my mind, or Frankie’s idea was sounding more and more reasonable. Except…
“What if he doesn’t wake up?” Worst-case-scenario-Lou asked softly, pulling my hands back and moving to the cupboard where I kept the granola, removing the bag, and pouring some into the serving bowl I’d gotten out earlier.
“Lou, you lied about your relationship with Blaze but not about who you are.” Frankie’s gaze softened. “You’re not a liar. You’re a good, caring person who was really afraid and worried for Blaze, and now, you have the chance to show that—to let his mom get to know that Lou. So, if it does come to that, and you have to explain it to her without Blaze’s support, she will understand why you did what you did.”
I blinked, slowly processing what she’d said… and what I hadn’t. I hadn’t mentioned Wade. I’d told her about Joanna. I’d told her my fears, but I hadn’t told her the root of them.
“Frankie… she’s not the one I’m worried about.”
My sister furrowed her brow. “What are you talking about?”
I picked up the bowl of granola and handed it to her to carry, somehow finding it had been easier to explain my lie than it was to explain Wade.
“Joanna seems nice… understanding. But Blaze’s brother is the lawyer… and he’s here, too.”
Her eyes bulged. “He is?”
“You just met him.” I swallowed hard. “Wade is Blaze Stevens’s older brother.”
“Wade… the man out there? Thinks you’re his brother’s girlfriend?” she asked with unmistakable incredulity.
“Yes.” A tingle ran down my spine, recalling the look in his eyes—the feel of his gaze on my mouth just moments earlier. I shuddered and picked up the tray of yogurts.
“Lou…” The corners of her mouth tipped, and she gave this kind of chuckle that made me feel like I’d missed something.
“What?”
She tipped her head. “The way he was looking at you when I came in…”
“Like he didn’t believe I was Blaze’s girlfriend?” I held back a groan and moved toward the door. We couldn’t stay in here any longer. “This is why, even if I went with your plan, it wouldn’t work. He’s a lawyer. He finds the truth for a living. He’ll realize?—”
“No, he won’t.” Frankie shook her head, her smile tipping mischievously .
“How can you say that? You’re the one who said I’m a terrible liar.”
“Because of the way he looked at you, Lou… he didn’t want to believe you’re his brother’s girlfriend.”
Great. “So, I’m already failing…”
“No, you’re not,” Frankie said and reached for the door with her free hand, holding it open as she leaned closer and murmured, “There’s a difference between thinking something is a lie and not wanting it to be the truth. And the man out there, he doesn’t want your relationship with Blaze to be true because then, he’d be guilty of wanting his brother’s girlfriend.”
My steps faltered. She had to be wrong… right? I pushed the thought aside for a different concern that struck me.
“You can’t tell Mom or Jamie or Kit—anyone about this, Frankie.” The last thing I needed was my family trying to fix this for me, or worse, to be forced to lie to them, too. That was where I drew the line.
I held her stare until she nodded, and then led the way back to the dining room.
I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t to see Wade selling Mrs. Tisdale on some rosquillas.
“They’re a Spanish-style donut. I’m not a sweets person, but I tried them for the first time this morning, and I’ve already had two. Come find me in ten minutes, and I’ll probably have finished my third.”
“Well, that certainly is high praise…” She sighed. “Alright I’ll give them a try.”
“You won’t regret it.” He grabbed two from the platter with the tongs.
“Two of them, Mr. Stevens?” The older woman protested .
“They’re small, and calories don’t count on vacation.” The briefest smile crossed his face as he placed them on her plate—a smile that disappeared as soon as he saw me.
“That’s the look right there,” Frankie murmured from behind me.
My eyes immediately snapped to the floor, and I hurried to the other side of the table and set the tray of yogurt down, quickly arranging the bowls and spoons.
“Call me if you need anything,” Frankie said and hugged me again.
“Thanks.” I stiffened when Wade came over to us, catching her just before she could leave.
“Heading out so soon?” he rumbled, and I felt that electrical imbalance begin to crackle again in the space between us.
“I have to get home to my son. He’s only eight weeks.”
“Congratulations.”
Frankie beamed. “Thank you. It was nice to meet you, Wade, and I’m so sorry to hear about your brother.”
Air plummeted like a hot knife into my lungs. She’d called him Wade.
It shouldn’t matter, except Frankie was always first for everything, and for my entire life, I’d been fine with that. I’d been fine in the background. Safe in the shadows. Until now. Until the first time we’d said his name… and it had come from Frankie.
It didn’t matter. I pushed out a long breath. He was my fake boyfriend’s brother.
“Thanks,” I heard him say before the newlyweds came up to me, all smiles, and captured my full attention.
“Thank you so much for your recommendations yesterday, Miss Kinkade. Our dinner last night…” The wife sighed.
“Good, right?” I beamed, all of my own troubles suddenly locked behind a closed door of cordiality and cheerfulness.
“Amazing,” the husband chimed in. “Hey, by the way, what happened last night? By the time we got back, we only heard there was an ambulance… ”
I balked, my heart starting to thud. I’d been so focused on what to say to the Stevens family that I hadn’t even thought about how I was going to explain this to the guests.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” I said quickly, figuring I should say at least that much. “There was a minor injury for one of the guests?—”
“And an ambulance was called out of an abundance of caution,” Wade said, joining the conversation like some kind of cavalry. “As Miss Kinkade said, there is nothing to worry about and everyone is fine, and while she appreciates your concern, she also respects the privacy of all her guests.”
I couldn’t tell if it was his tone, his stoic expression, or simply the power of his presence that made the couple clam up and their eyes go wide. Or maybe it was because he had spoken for me.
“Please, help yourself to breakfast. The pastry of the day is a Spanish rosquilla, and they are delicious,” I gushed nervously and stepped to the side, hoping to distract them from how Wade had firmly put them in their place.
As soon as they went to the table, I grabbed Wade’s arm and pulled him to the side.
“I can handle my guests,” I said, my voice hushed.
He stared and then slowly turned to where my hand was still holding him. I yanked it back like his skin was the equivalent of a hot stove and crossed my arms.
“And I’m responsible for handling my brother’s privacy,” he said in an equally low tone.
I winced. “I never would’ve told them?—”
“I didn’t say you would, Miss Kinkade. But it would be nice to feel like I can do something for my brother right now.”
My jaw went slack, my stomach knotting tight at the expression on his face. I’d seen it far too many times in my own family, especially after everything that happened to Kit, to not recognize it now: the frustration of feeling powerless to help someone you loved.
My heart broke a little for the cool, collected man in front of me. Wade wanted to protect his brother—had protected his brother for so long—but hadn’t been able to save him from this.
“You’re right. Thank you. I’m sorry,” I said and dragged my tongue over my lips.
“Stop apologizing.” He sounded like it was more than the apology that had irritated him.
“Okay,” I murmured, shifting my weight. “Do you want to take some breakfast—some of the rosquillas with you to the hospital for your mom?”
His eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to kick me out?”
“What? No,” I stammered. “I just hate to keep you. I’m sure you want to get back to the hospital to see your brother.”
“Don’t you?” His eyes narrowed.
“Of course,” I answered on a rushed exhale. “Of course, I do.” Be honest about who you are. “I just… I have responsibilities here. For right now, at least until my cousin gets here to cover the front desk for a few hours.”
“I’ll wait,” he declared.
“For me?” I squeaked. Why would he do that? Why wouldn’t he just go?—
“It doesn’t make sense for two of us to drive over there. I’ll wait, and we can ride together.”
My jaw opened and shut, my brain fishing for some other excuse. “I don’t know. I think you should?—”
“Miss Kinkade,” he interrupted, lowering his head to be sure no one else heard him. “Clearly, my brother told you enough to give you an idea that our relationship wasn’t exactly… close. And after meeting our mother last night and seeing our… interactions, I think you might agree when I say it’s probably better if you are there… as a buffer.”
My eyes went wide, and my hand bumped his arm as I reached to adjust my glasses. “Oh.”
A buffer.
Wade’s jaw ticked. “You would be… helping me.”
My chest tightened. I was a helper. For my whole life, I’d helped my family and friends in pursuit of their own dreams. Mom’s business. Frankie’s candles. The Maine Squeeze. And Kit’s art gallery. When I couldn’t figure out my own future, I’d focused on helping the people I cared about succeed in theirs. Maybe this was the first thing I could do to show them— show him —that helping people was part of who I was: a good person who’d made a small mistake.
“I see. I mean, of course, if you want to wait, I can ride with you.”
“Wonderful.” Wade clipped his chin. “I have to make a few phone calls. Just let me know when you’re ready.”