A Week Till the Wedding (6 page)

Jacob seemed to think he was humoring his grandmother by playing along—and by dragging Daisy into the family mess—but what would happen if Miss Eunice’s fantasy didn’t fade? Did he really expect that she would go through with a fake wedding ceremony at his family reunion? No, something had to break before that happened. This charade couldn’t go any further.

Much as she wanted to get Jacob out of her heart once and for all, Daisy knew very well that pretending to be his
wife
would shatter that heart beyond saving.

The morning was an easy one, until her eleven o’clock cut and color started talking about Jacob. She supposed it was inevitable that everyone would find out he was back, but you’d think people would have better manners! Not Amanda Williams, who had never met a silent moment she liked.

She started while Daisy was applying color to her hair.

“I hear Jacob Tasker is in town.”

Daisy made a noncommittal humming noise that sounded affirmative enough to her.

“I also heard that he was in your shop yesterday. Did he need a haircut or did he just stop by to chat? I’m sure none of the Taskers handles their own engine repair—they have people for that sort of thing. And really, why on earth would he want someone from Bell Grove to cut his hair?” She laughed, not realizing that she’d just insulted Daisy—Daisy, who had scissors and a variety of interesting hair dyes within reach. “Oh, you two were
such
a cute couple, back in the old days.” She barely took a breath, much less leave spaces in the conversation for Daisy to actually respond. Which was just as well, in Daisy’s opinion.

“Everyone always knew Jacob would light out of town as soon as he got the chance. He was always so smart, so driven to succeed. I didn’t think he’d go without you, though.”

Well, he did.
Daisy wondered if it was too late to add some purple to the color she was putting on Amanda’s honey-blond hair. Maybe a Mohawk...

“I hear he looks good. Is he married, do you know? Still working for that same company that hired him right out of college? I haven’t heard much about him for a couple of years, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

He looks damn good, I don’t know for certain if he’s married or not but I don’t think so and last time I checked he was still working for that soulless money-hungry company that stole him out from under me.
“I need you to sit under the dryer, now,” Daisy said.

Sadly the noise of the dryer didn’t shut Amanda up. She raised her voice and continued, thankfully moving on to the other Taskers. Sure, a beauty shop was a great place to gossip, but Amanda’s rambling made Daisy wonder what the residents of Bell Grove had been saying about her lately. All gossip concerning Daisy Bell probably began with “That poor girl, bless her heart...”

She didn’t want to be a poor girl, didn’t want people to bless her heart behind her back. What the hell had she done to herself? Mari and Lily didn’t need her anymore. Well, they needed her as a sister and she’d always be there for them, but her years as guardian were behind her. She loved Bell Grove, loved her job and her friends, but she no longer had her sisters as a barrier keeping her from pursuing romance. Maybe there wasn’t exactly a glut of handsome, available, appealing men in town, but not every man in the county was an ogre or a jerk. Why was she alone after all this time?

Jacob’s return was making her question everything! Just what she didn’t need: a man to screw with her head.

But she did need a man in her life. That was becoming clear. She wanted to be kissed, wanted to have sex outside of a dream, wanted to marry and have kids and make a life for herself. Maybe that would happen here in Bell Grove, and maybe it would have to happen somewhere else. She should make more trips to Atlanta, broaden her horizons.

But it wouldn’t happen at all until she ended things with Jacob once and for all and allowed herself to start over.

* * *

Jacob left his grandmother’s room with a frown on his face. Great. Just great! Her memory issues were pretty damn selective. And inconvenient. She had told Lurlene to prepare chicken and dumplings for supper, and she’d already started talking about how much she was looking forward to Daisy’s lemon cake.

Daisy couldn’t cook. She was good at a lot of things, but cooking wasn’t one of them. Maybe he could drive to Atlanta and buy a lemon cake. Not that a store-bought cake, even a spectacular one, would fool Grandma Eunice even on her worst day.

It had been seven years since he’d been with Daisy, and in that time she’d raised her sisters, taken over the family business, basically grown up. Maybe she’d learned how to cook. Maybe she
did
know how to make that lemon cake. He called the shop, and she answered with a sharp,

“Bell’s.”

“It’s me,” he said.

“Me? I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific, sir.” Her voice was sweeter, now, a little lower and calmer, but with an edge he couldn’t dismiss. “Would you like to make an appointment for a haircut? I do have an opening this afternoon.”

“Dammit, Daisy, it’s
Jacob
.”

“Oh, so sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry at all. “I didn’t recognize your voice. You sounded a little bit like Old Man Johnson, but I was afraid to assume...”

“We need a lemon cake,” he snapped, without arguing that he sounded nothing like Old Man Johnson, who was ninety-seven years old and had the deepest Southern drawl of any man for miles.

The moment of silence told him Daisy was as bothered as he was. “She didn’t forget?”

“No. You’re expected for supper, and you’re expected to bring a lemon cake. She’s been talking about it all morning.”

“I’ll call you back in fifteen minutes,” she said. “I have a customer.” She disconnected without a goodbye, and for a few seconds Jacob stood there with the phone in his hand, staring at it as if somehow Daisy was still there, harassing him. Driving him crazy.

Making him pay.

He hadn’t purposely left her behind, it had just happened. Like that made a difference. He’d planned to send for her, to send for them all, but the one time he’d mentioned moving, Daisy had been horrified. She wouldn’t uproot her sisters, she’d said, wouldn’t drag them away from their friends and the only home they’d ever known. He’d planned to come home for Christmas that year, to convince her face-to-face to return to California with him.

But he hadn’t made Christmas that year. There had been a business emergency—in hindsight so unimportant that right now he could not remember what it had been—and he’d canceled his travel plans.

And that had been that, though there had been a few awkward phone conversations in the early months of the new year. Not many and nothing had been said that could break through the distance between them, distance both physical and emotional. He and Daisy had no longer wanted the same things. They’d drifted apart. His life was there, her life was here. Simple. She’d faded in his memory, as he was certain he’d faded in hers. Life went on.

Dammit, that hadn’t been entirely his fault. She’d played a part, as well. Maybe he hadn’t fought for her the way he should have, but she hadn’t exactly fought for him, either.

When Daisy called back he was still holding the cordless phone in his hand, ready for her. Her words were sharp. “Grab a pen and paper. I’m going to tell you what I need, and you’re going to put on that fancy suit of yours and head to the Piggly Wiggly.”

* * *

A part of her wanted to kick Jacob out of her house and tackle this chore alone, but two things stopped her. One, she needed the help. Two, she’d never get over him if she didn’t kick this annoying habit of being downright twitchy when he was around. Not twitchy in a bad way. No, he made her squirm in a way that was annoyingly pleasant. She felt like he had literally worked his way under her skin.

He looked good in khakis and a golf shirt. She’d kidded him about his suits, but he did look sharp in them. The more casual outfit he wore this afternoon showed off the muscle he’d built up since he’d left her. Not massive muscle, thank goodness, but he did have some interesting definition.

More reminder that they weren’t the same people they’d been seven years ago. Of course they weren’t! They’d been little more than babies, untouched by the real world, unshaped by loss and hardship and responsibility.

Daisy tried to keep her mind on lemon cake, but she really wanted to touch Jacob’s forearm to see if it felt as hard as it looked. She wanted to look under that shirt—just a peek—to see what muscles he’d added there. He’d probably added some chest hair, as well. He hadn’t had much at twenty-four. Oh, she really hoped he hadn’t turned into one of those guys who worked out in a gym and waxed his chest....

Her mind could not wander there.

“Do you actually play golf?” she asked, pointing at the dark blue shirt with the little embroidered doodad on the pocket.

“No.”

“Doesn’t that make your outfit false advertising?”

He’d didn’t answer, but he did give her a frustrated look that made her smile as he unpacked everything he’d bought at the Piggly Wiggly down the road, a small grocery store that served the next town over as well as two communities that were too small to support their own. His purchases lined the counter in the Bell kitchen, a boxy room with a small table that was older than she was and appliances that weren’t much newer. They worked. And it wasn’t like she cooked all that often anyway.

He picked up a box. “I’m pretty sure your mom’s famous homemade lemon cake didn’t start with a cake mix.”

Daisy shot him a cutting glance. “No, but I don’t have time to make a homemade cake, and besides, it’s the icing that makes it special.”

“It’s a good thing you were free this afternoon.”

She glared at him. Again. Still. “I wasn’t
free
. I had to reschedule a regular for tomorrow afternoon. Remember Miss Hattie?”

“How could I forget. Did you tell her why you had to cancel?”

“No, I lied and told her I didn’t feel well. Do you know how much I hate lying to my clients?” She didn’t point out that she hated the idea that the facts of this charade might get out much more than she hated fibbing to her customers.

“Sorry. I’ll be happy to pay you for any income you lose because you’re helping me.”

“I still don’t want your money, Tasker.” She made sure she sounded sharp and certain. And annoyed.

He sounded pretty annoyed, himself. “I don’t want you to lose money because you’re helping me out of a tough spot.”

“I’m not helping you. I’m helping your grandmother.” He could drown in his
tough spots
for all she cared.

“Sorry,” he said sharply. “I forgot.”

The tension in the air was almost unbearable. It hung between them, like every unspoken word that haunted her, still. He was angry. She was antsy.

“Are you married?” She’d planned to ask, needed to know, but the question could’ve come at a better time and been delivered more graciously. Instead she’d just blurted it out, standing in the kitchen with an apron worn over a pair of denim shorts and an old red tank—she always made such a mess when she did try to cook—feet bare, a box of butter in one hand and a sack of lemons in the other. The question did diffuse the tension, a bit. Maybe because it apparently took Jacob by surprise.

He shook his head. “No.”

His answer was sadly insufficient, so Daisy pressed on. “Engaged? Dating seriously? Involved with any woman on any level?”

“No.”

“Why the hell not? I’m sure you’re quite the catch, even in California. I’ll bet the women
looooove
your Southern accent.”

“I lost my Southern accent years ago,” he insisted.

Daisy laughed. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

Jacob’s lips thinned. His jaw twitched. Finally he asked, “Would I have kissed you last night if I was married, engaged, or involved?”

“Maybe,” she said sharply. “Some men don’t seem to have a problem with that sort of thing...they don’t find it a conflict of interest at all.”

“I’m not one of those men. You should know that.”

She should, but it had been so long. She didn’t know him at all, not really. How much had he changed? Her task of kicking him out of her head and her heart would be so much easier if he’d turned into a jerk.

“So, there’s no significant other waiting for you on the other side of the country, no woman sitting at home alone, waiting for your phone calls,” she said calmly. “I can’t help but wonder, why not?”

Daisy wanted, more than anything, for Jacob to convince her that he didn’t deserve to visit her dreams and send her well-ordered life spinning out of control. The boy she’d once loved was gone. What kind of man had he become?

She studied him, up and down.
Be a complete ass, please. That will make this so much easier.

Chapter Four

W
hy not?
No time, no inclination
. He’d dated, but never the same girl more than twice. Jacob hadn’t questioned that MO until Daisy had come back into his life, however temporarily.

He was forced to consider that the reason he’d never met a woman who really did it for him wasn’t because he worked so many hours, wasn’t because he was so focused on his career that he didn’t have the time for a serious relationship. Maybe the sad truth was that no one else had ever affected him this way because no one else was Daisy.

“Can we just make a cake?” he snapped.

Daisy switched on the oven, collected a large bowl and a small pot from a lower cabinet and then she turned to face him. “Sorry to pry. Amanda asked today if you were married, and I was horrified to realize that I didn’t know.”

Because he’d kissed her, and she’d kissed him back, and Daisy Bell would never have knowingly kissed a married man that way. “What about you?” He’d know if she was married. Someone would’ve told him, he supposed, and if she was married this charade never would’ve gotten off the ground, but... “Are you seeing anyone? Is there a boyfriend I should be on the lookout for?”

“Not at the moment,” she said coolly.

Jacob found he was sharply relieved to know that there wasn’t another man in Daisy’s life. He also wondered about the qualifier. Not at the moment? Who had she dated in the past? Had any of those relationships been serious? A surge of jealousy almost knocked him on his ass.