The Trouble With Valentine's Day (28 page)

But as angry as he was with Louisa, it didn't come close to what he was feeling for Kate. What the hell was wrong with her? Why had she messed everything up with talk of wanting more from him, wanting marriage? He'd thought she was different, but she wasn't.

He should have known better than to get involved with her. He'd learned the hard way that sex was never free. There was always a price. Kate's price was a wedding ring. He'd been forced into one bad marriage. He wouldn't be coerced into a second.

It was just never going to happen. She could just sit over in her store and bake bread and grow into an old maid for all he cared. He'd liked Kate. He'd told her the truth when he'd said he cared about her. He did care about her, but he was going to try and forget her.

No way was he going to let her make him crazy.

When he pulled the HUMMER to a stop at the back of Sutter Sports, Adam Taber was waiting for him. Rob opened the doors for business, and Adam followed him inside.

“Mr. Sutter,” he said. “Wally can't make it today 'cause he got the chicken pox.”

“That's okay. I don't have that much for you to do.” Rob looked back at Adam over his shoulder and did a double take at the bag in the boy's hand. “What is that?” he asked and pointed to what looked a lot like granola.

“Granola.”

“Where'd you get it?”

“At the M&S. The lady over there is making it.”

“Kate? The lady with the red hair?”

“Yep. She gave it to me free 'cause she wants me to tell people it's really good. Then they come buy it.”

She'd stolen his granola idea! “Adam,” he said. “You're in charge of the store until Rose gets to work. I'll be back in a few minutes.” He hit the front door with the heel of his hand and shoved his sunglasses on his face, so angry he didn't care that he'd left an eleven-year-old to run his store. He couldn't recall a time when he'd been so enraged. Yes, he could—last night, when Kate had told him she loved him, then, practically in the same breath, said it was over. His anger burned a hole in his stomach, and he clenched his teeth.

“Hi, Rob. Haven't seen you for a few days,” Stanley said as Rob entered the M&S.

“Hello, Stanley.” Rob took a breath and forced his jaw to unlock. He didn't want to take out his anger on his soon-to-be stepfather.

“Your mother should be here in a minute to talk about flowers at the wedding. It's coming right up, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. Is Kate around?” he asked and thought he'd managed to sound damn pleasant.

Stanley paused a moment then said, “She's in the back bagging up some granola she made this morning. It's been selling like crazy.”

Rob thought his head just might explode. He moved around the counter to the back room.

Kate's back was to him as she took a pan from one of the ovens. She set it on the counter and looked up. She didn't even try and look guilty. “What are you doing here?”

He stopped in front of her and put his hands on his hips. “You stole my granola idea.”

“Don't be absurd.”

“You knew I was working on perfecting the recipe and you stole it.” Never mind that he'd mostly used it as a ruse to get her out to his house so he could get her naked.

She took a spatula and stirred the granola around. Taunting him. “It wasn't a secret recipe like Colonel Sanders's seven herbs and spices.”

“You knew I was working on it to sell in my store.”

She shrugged. “You snooze. You lose.”

“What?” He wanted to grab her and shake her and press her so tight into his chest that he just absorbed her into his body.

She took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “Mmm. Want a bite?”

God, she had balls. He loved that about her, and he wanted his life to go back the way it had been before she'd decided he needed to make a permanent commitment. “Have you given up your crazy idea to get married?”

“To you? Yes.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts and said, “Harvey Middleton's son, Brice, asked me out.”

It had been less than twenty-four hours since she'd told him she loved him and she already had a date? “You can't go out with him.”

“Why?”

Because I said so
probably wasn't a good answer. “Because he's losing his hair.”

She looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. More than likely because he felt like he'd lost it. “Go out with him. It's none of my business,” he said and turned away. He moved from the back room to the front of the store. If Brice Middleton put his hands on Kate, Rob was going to put him in a head lock and feed him his lunch.

Grace looked up from a conversation she was having with Stanley. She smiled. “How are you feeling, Robert?”

“Compared to what?” he snapped.

So much for not letting Kate make him crazy.

Nineteen

A slight breeze rippled across Fish Hook
Lake, and the warm afternoon rays reflected like tiny mirrors on the waves. The hem of Grace Sutter's cream chiffon dress fluttered about her knees as she read the last line of her poem to her groom and those gathered at Sockeye Park.

The bride and groom stood beneath a lattice arbor entwined with wildflowers on a small grassy point. A preacher from the nondenominational church in town presided over the ceremony. Kate stood behind her grandfather and watched his hands shake as he pulled his poem from his pocket. He unfolded it and began:

“My life was filled with black and gray,
all my sorrow running into the next day.”

Kate lowered her gaze to her pink toenails and listened as her grandfather spoke of his lonely life before Grace. She concentrated on her favorite Fendi sandals. The beige straps wrapped her feet in soft leather, and a gold sleeve hung from the heel and made a little sound when she walked. Her favorite shoes usually boosted her spirits and made her feel like a diva.

Today, nothing was making her feel better. She slid her gaze across the six-foot patch of grass that separated her toes from Rob's black leather shoes. The cuffs of his charcoal trousers broke over the laces, and razor-sharp creases ran up each leg to the bottom of his suit jacket. In one hand at his side, he held his mother's small bouquet of white roses pointed at the ground. Kate didn't allow her gaze to roam any further, but she didn't have to to know exactly how good he looked.

Rob and Grace had arrived at the park shortly after Kate and Stanley. Watching him walk his mother up the aisle, Kate's chest had gotten tight and her breathing a little shallow. He'd cut his hair short, shaved off his soul patch, and trimmed the Fu Manchu framing his lips. In his gray suit and short hair, he was GQ handsome, but you would still never mistake him for a male model. He had too much testosterone just beneath the surface to allow anyone to gel his hair or spritz him down with water.

She hadn't spoken to Rob since the day he'd barged into the M&S, raging about his granola. That had been a week ago, and her heart had yet to begin healing. In fact, it seemed to break just a little more every time she saw him. In the past, with each heartache, she'd been able to tell herself that she was fine. She was okay. This time she wasn't so fine. She was definitely not okay.

Stanley finished his poem, then Kate handed him the simple gold wedding band from the purse hanging on her shoulder. She smiled at her grandfather and Grace as they promised to love each other until their deaths. She felt the pull of Rob's gaze on her face, and she looked at him. She couldn't seem to help it.

His green eyes looked back at her from across the short distance, and she was reminded of the day she'd first seen him standing in the M&S, his face void of expression. He was a lot better at pretending he didn't care than she was. Or maybe he wasn't pretending at all.

The sound of the preacher pronouncing Stanley and Grace husband and wife pulled Kate's attention back to the ceremony. She pushed up the corners of her mouth a little more and looked out at the guests seated on chairs borrowed from the grange. Her mother and father sat in the front row beside her brother Ted and her great-aunt Edna. Kate's other two brothers were stationed overseas and hadn't been able to make it.

Applause broke out when Stanley and Grace Caldwell kissed, then the guests stood and moved toward the couple. Kate took a step back, and her heels sunk into the grass. The town's widow posse was the first to step up and congratulate Grace. Some of them even managed to look sincere.

Kate's mother and father hugged Grace and welcomed her and Rob to the family. Kate was pretty sure they meant it, too. Anyone just looking at Stanley could tell that Grace made his life better.

Rob was Stanley's stepson now. Even if Kate managed to avoid him all year, she'd have to see him at Thanksgiving and Christmas. How was she ever going to get over her feelings if she had to see him across the parking lot all the time or talk to him over a turkey and ham dinner?

She needed a vacation. Some distance. Perhaps when her grandfather and Grace got back from their honeymoon, Kate would drive to Vegas and catch up with her friends.

Maybe she should move. Her grandfather was happy now. He didn't need her, and there was a whole big world outside of Gospel city limits. A world without Rob Sutter—except on holidays.

From a few feet away, Kate recognized Rob's deep laughter, and she looked over at him. Rose Lake had her hand on his shoulder and had raised on her toes to say something into his ear. Kate turned her attention to the preacher and thanked him. She chatted with the Aberdeens, and all the while she managed to keep her smile in place and pretend she wasn't dying inside.

Yeah, she should move, she decided. But she really didn't want to. Not right now. She'd just started to fit in. She'd joined the Mountain Momma Crafters and would attend her first meeting the following night. She'd volunteered to bring refreshments and planned to introduce them to the wonders of gourmet food and jalapeño jelly. Gospel was just starting to feel like home, which was scary if she thought about it too hard.

Kate excused herself and wandered over to the covered pavilion, where the caterers Grace had hired from Sun Valley were setting up. She helped them set out mints and nuts and looked up as she heard the unmistakable sound of Iona Osborn's quad cane.

Iona wore a red dress with so much blue rickrack on the ruffles that she looked like she was about to break into a square dance. “Hi, Iona.”

“Hello, Kate.” She stopped and looked over the three-tier white-and-blue wedding cake. “Did you make the cake?”

“No. I haven't graduated past cupcakes.”

“You did a good job with those.” Kate was about to thank her when she asked, “When is it your turn to get married?”

Kate thought the obvious answer to the question was, When I get asked. She didn't bother stating the obvious, though. “I just haven't found the right person yet,” she answered. But she had. Or at least she thought she had. She glanced over Iona's ten-gallon pile of hair at Rob. He stood talking to her brother, pointing out at the lake toward town. The two shook hands, then Ted made his way toward Kate beneath the pavilion.

“How many times have you been asked when you're getting married?” he asked as he reached for a glass of punch.

“About ten. How about you?”

“Five.” He drained the small glass. “You win.”

This was one competition she didn't want to win. She was feeling a little testy, and her face hurt from smiling. Her head was pounding, too.

Great-aunt Edna grabbed a piece of cake and moved to stand by Kate and Ted. Edna's skin looked as tough as an old army boot, and Kate wasn't sure if that was due to her pack-a-day habit or the toxic effects of her bologna pie. “Are you next?” Edna asked as she reached for a little cup of nuts.

Kate didn't have to ask her what she meant. “No.”

“Well dear, if your grandfather can find someone at his age, there's hope for you.”

Kate tilted her head to the side. “Did you know that Harvard researchers have concluded that Coca-Cola is not an effective spermicide?”

“Huh?” Edna stared, her mouth slightly agape.

Kate patted her great-aunt on her bony shoulder. “That's good info to know if you ever find yourself without a condom.”

Ted laughed and put his arm around Kate. “What do you say we cut out of here and find a bar?”

It was early enough that the Buckhorn wouldn't be filled up with knuckleheads. “Wanna play a game of pool?”

He smiled. “I'm not going to let you win.”

They moved from beneath the pavilion. “You never let me win.”

“Kate.” She didn't have to turn to know who'd called her name. Even after everything, the sound of his voice still poured over her like warm rum. She took a deep breath and turned to watch Rob walk toward her.

He stopped a few feet from her and looked into her eyes. “Do you mind if I steal your sister for a few minutes, Ted?”

“No, I don't mind. Kate?”

She handed her keys to her brother. “Wait for me at my car.”

Rob waited until Ted had walked away before he said, “Why are you leaving so soon?”

Because you don't love me and it's too hard to stay.
“Ted and I are going to go play pool and catch up on what's been happening since Christmas.”

He'd unbuttoned his jacket, and he shoved his hands in the front pockets of his pants. “Are you planning to tell him about us?”

She shook her head. “There's nothing to tell.”

“There could be.”

It was so tempting, even now, to believe that. But it was an illusion. A fantasy. “I knew when I got involved with you that I would end up hurt. I should never have told myself that I could handle it. I couldn't and I can't. It's over, Rob.”

He rocked back on his heels and rubbed one hand across his chin and mouth. “The thing is, I think I might be in love with you.”

Might?
She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't. He looked at her as if he expected something from her. It was just too painful, and she turned to walk away before she could give in to the tears stinging the backs of her eyes.

His grasp on her arm stopped her. “I tell you that I think I love you and you walk away?”

“Either you love someone or you don't.
Thinking
you
might
be in love is not the same as
being
in love. It's not enough.”

His gaze narrowed. “And a piece of paper and ring are going to ensure that I do love you enough?”

“No, but they're the first step to spending your life with the person you love.”

He held up his hands. “Have you seen the divorce rate lately?” he asked incredulously as he lowered his arms. “You can bet every damn one of those couples thought they'd spend the rest of their lives loving each other.”

“Keep your voice down. You're at your mother's wedding, for God's sake.” She folded her arms across her chest, across her heart. “I happen to think your mother and my grandfather will be happy and stay married to each other.”

“Yeah, but they're still only one out of sixty. Since you love statistics so much, I think you'd know that one.”