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A Princess in Maine Page 5
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Page 5
“Okay, fine,” he said, holding his hands up. “But seriously. You look tired. You usually get like this when you’re awake all night, worrying about something, and I don’t like it when you worry. Is something wrong?”
I took a second to be touched that he cared enough to make the grumpily thoughtful inquiry. Paul might be a tough guy, but he was extremely observant. So was I. Dad had raised us to be that way, and he would have kicked our butts if we didn’t live up to his high O’Kane expectations.
An O’Kane always assumed the world was out to get you, because it fricking was. Which was why I was so tired. At night, instead of sleeping, I’d been sneaking out of bed to watch the security feeds for any sign of movement. I, too, had heard the whispers of the Sullivans asking around in town about our inn and the upcoming wedding. Despite the precautions I had taken, I practiced constant vigilance. Just like Dad had taught us.
“I’m fine,” I snapped. “I, like always, have this under control.”
“Then why are you tired?”
“I’m not,” I said immediately. “I slept like a baby last night.”
It wasn’t a lie. Everyone knows babies never sleep.
“Bullshit.” He lifted an eyebrow. “You’ve been a horrible liar ever since you went all soft with Jeremy, so stop trying to pull it off with me.”
That was pretty much the biggest insult he’d ever given me. It was worse than the time he told me I was adopted when we were kids. He’d said he knew it was true because I moved like a herd of elephants and the cops would be able to hear me coming from a mile away.
I might be happily married now, but I hadn’t lost myself in the process. Goddamn Paul. Screw him for suggesting otherwise. “I am not soft.”
He snorted.
I threw myself at him, but he jumped out of the way with a laugh. “Stop before you hurt yourself,” he taunted, smirking.
Before I could demonstrate where he could shove his threats, the door opened, and Jeremy poked his head in. “Hey. The baker is here.” He looked at me, and then Paul, and his brow wrinkled. “What’s wrong? What did you do to her?”
“I didn’t—” Paul started.
“He didn’t do anything,” I muttered, walking toward the door to pick up the binder. I ignored Paul as I moved past him. I didn’t want to have to give him a black eye. He never protected his face properly, and one of these times, I was going to take advantage of that. “You know the way out,” I said to him.
Paul rolled his eyes, knowing it would irritate me even more.
The baker stepped into the doorway. She was pretty. Her wavy red hair fell to her shoulders, and she had freckles on her cheeks. “Hello, Mrs. Holland.”
“Please, call me Chelsea.”
Paul’s eyes widened, and he stared at the baker with a mixture of horror and fear. When he saw me looking, he hid the emotions quickly, but it was too late. I saw.
“Okay, Chelsea.” The baker smiled at me. She looked so sweet and pure, and it was easy to picture her in the kitchen wearing an apron and with flour on her cheeks. “I’m Samantha.”
“It’s lovely to meet you in person, Samantha. I feel like I’ve known you for ages, since we’ve spoken via video conferences with Grace so many times,” I said, making my way to her. “Why don’t you go wait for me in the foyer? We’ll go into my office, I’ll taste the different icings there, and then we’ll Skype Grace in. It’s quieter in there.”
Samantha nodded and glanced at Paul. She tightened her grip on the samples she carried in a Tupperware container, and forced her attention back to me. “Y-yes, of course.” Then she walked out. Ran out, was a more accurate description.
Paul let out the breath he’d been holding.
Ignoring whatever was going on with him and the pretty new baker I’d hired, I walked toward the foyer, stopped by Jeremy’s side, and rose on tiptoes to kiss him. Enough dealing with my annoying brother, and worries about crime families.
It was time to finalize a kick-ass royal wedding.
Chapter 12
Jeremy drove down Main Street, passing the coffee shop where he’d first seen Chelsea after she’d come back into town with her hair dyed blond and a cartel hot on her heels. Now she was his life. His love. His wife. As such, he knew something was wrong with her.
She was acting fine.
Didn’t seem to be mad at him. Didn’t seem to want to kill him, or kick him in the nuts, or even give him that scathing silent treatment she doled out so damn well.
Last night when they made love, she was as tender and passionate as always, and he’d fallen asleep with her in his arms, like usual. But still. Something was off.
He just didn’t know what.
He glanced at Joseph, who was sitting in the passenger seat of Jeremy’s truck. Jeremy had liked Joseph since their first meeting. Among his other responsibilities, the man was always sent to inspect Grace’s food, since she was allergic to peanuts.
The bodyguard sat silently, tapping his fingers on his thigh. He wore a black suit, a white shirt, and a red tie. The other bodyguards always wore the same outfits, same colors. Black and red must be Talius’s colors. He cleared his throat and said, “Miss Grace has requested we bring home Sour Patch Kids…whatever those are.”
Jeremy choked on a laugh. Must be those pregnancy cravings he wasn’t supposed to mention to anyone. He wasn’t sure if Joseph knew, but he wasn’t about to risk letting the cat out of the bag. “It’s candy. Pretty good, too.”
“Interesting,” Joseph said in a doubtful tone.
As they pulled into a parking spot, Jeremy unbuckled his seat belt. Now that Grace was in town with her bodyguards, the end of this crazy royal wedding was in sight. He still wasn’t happy they were risking everything for this event, but it was what it was.
Jeremy was ready for his damn honeymoon. With the extra cash nearly in his pocket, he was picturing the white sands of a Hawaiian beach. Maybe he’d find a nude beach for him and his girl. She’d like that thrill.
As he got out of the truck, Jeremy spotted cops swarming Main Street. They were outside the coffee shop, talking in small groups, with their lights flashing red and blue.
He strained to listen to their conversations. He heard something about a robbery, a broken window, and stolen property. Shit like that didn’t usually happen in Hudson, unless it was happening to them. “I’m going to go find out what’s up,” he said to Joseph as he got out of the car.
“I will come, too,” Joseph said, falling into step beside Jeremy. “I need to know about any potential threats.”
Jeremy didn’t object.
Walking up to Detective George Wilkinson, the cop Jeremy knew best, he gestured toward the other cops in the group. “What’s going on?”
Wilkinson sighed and pulled at his tie. “There was a robbery.”
“Really?” he asked, even though he could already figure that out. “Where?”
“Hannah’s shop. They took all her cameras, her computer, some equipment, a few hundred in cash she had in the register…everything.”
Jeremy stiffened, because they had a connection to Hannah—she was Jeremy and Chelsea’s wedding photographer—and this robbery felt like the same kind of sabotage that the Sullivans had pulled during their wedding. Damn it. Could this be a clue that the Sullivans are going to mess with the royal wedding to get to him and Chelsea?
“Is Hannah okay?”
“Yeah, she wasn’t there when it happened.” Wilkinson shook his head. “She said she had a big wedding at your place in a couple of weeks, and now she’s got nothing.”
Joseph looked at Jeremy.
Jeremy frowned back.
George turned away, talking to another officer.
Cocking his head to the left, Jeremy headed back toward his truck, pulling his phone out of his pocket once they were out of earshot of the cops. He needed to call Chelsea.
This couldn’t be a coincidence.
Maybe he needed more help keeping Chelsea out of trouble. Ma
ybe he wasn’t on his A-game anymore. The idea pissed him off. Becoming a civilian had been his choice. Chelsea hadn’t forced him to step down from the DEA. He’d chosen to do it so he could be home with her, instead of running around the world, chasing down bad guys.
Turned out, he was still hunting bad guys.
And even though they kept coming at him, he wasn’t actually catching any.
It was infuriating.
Forcing his mind back to the present, he turned to Joseph. “We need to go check on Hannah before we get the food.”
“Do you think this is related to the wedding?” Joseph asked, his voice low as he glanced over his shoulder at the police. His mouth was pressed into a thin line. “Is someone trying to ruin the ceremony with this…this…theft?”
“I don’t know.” Jeremy lifted the ringing phone to his ear, and opened the truck door. “But you can bet your ass that I’m going to find out.”
Chapter 13
I paced back and forth, biting my broken thumbnail, my steps growing more agitated with every turn. When Jeremy had gotten home and told me that someone robbed Hannah Rollins, the wedding photographer Grace had hired—my wedding photographer—it immediately hadn’t sat with me very well. Anything newsworthy that was even remotely tied to the inn was a bad thing right now, because this whole wedding was hush-hush. We didn’t need the attention.
Plus, you know, I might be the real target.
If the Sullivans were back at it again, like Jeremy and Paul thought…
No. I wasn’t going to go there. Nothing, and I meant nothing, would stand in the way of this wedding. “You weren’t hurt, right?” I asked, pressing the broken edge of the nail into my lip. I hadn’t managed to bite it off yet. “If they hurt you—”
“I wasn’t there, so I’m fine. But they took everything. The only camera I have left is the one I had in my car with me.” Hannah sighed. Over the phone, I could hear her feet dragging across the floor. “Jeremy came by to see if I was okay, too. You guys are sweet.”
Sweet wasn’t a word I’d use to describe me. Jeremy, maybe. I chewed what was left of my thumbnail. “Maybe they’ll find the guy. Will you be able to purchase more equipment before the wedding? If not, I understand, and will—”
“I’ll make it happen. Everything was insured, so I’ll get a check eventually,” she said immediately. “I won’t lose this wedding because some jerk stole my stuff. One way or another, I’ll be there.”
God, I liked Hannah. She was tough, and didn’t let life get her down. I liked to think I lived my life as fiercely, but sometimes I thought I was fooling myself. “If there’s anything I can do to help, please, let me know. I’ll do what I can.”
“Of course.”
We spoke for a little longer, and then hung up. I ran my hands down my face and let out a long sigh. This wasn’t the Sullivans’ work. It couldn’t be. I’d threatened to release their secrets. Would they really take that risk for a few thousand in camera equipment? Not likely.
“Is everything okay?” Grace asked from behind me. Her bodyguard, Michelle, was standing to her left. “I heard you on the phone. Someone was robbed?”
Well, crap. I hadn’t heard them coming. A year ago, I would have heard Grace’s footsteps the second she walked out her bedroom door. I’d have to be more alert from now on. Grace—and her bodyguards—were staying at the inn until the wedding. The small list of guests, along with Phillip, would fill us to capacity before the wedding.
Maybe Paul was right. Maybe I was getting soft.
“Everything’s fine. Great. Wonderful,” I said, a little too enthusiastically. As if that wasn’t bad enough? I added a bright smile. Overkill, Chelsea. Stop overselling.
Grace raised an eyebrow. She looked so regal when she did that. No one would ever guess she’d been a shy, badly dressed girl in high school who often tried to blend into the crowds. “Robbery is wonderful?”
“No, of course not.”
She frowned. “Then what—?”
“Honestly, everything is okay,” I said, widening my smile so much I felt like my cheeks were going to crack. I knew I was doing a piss-poor job of conning her, but in my defense, my skills were a little rusty. “That was Hannah. She was robbed, but the good news is that she’s fine, and she’ll still be able to shoot the wedding.”
“Could someone have found out about it?” Michelle asked.
I stiffened. Sometimes, bad things happened to good people, and that’s all there was to it. Everything didn’t have to be a conspiracy. A robbery didn’t mean someone was out to get you. Sometimes, shit happened. Sometimes, it was just bad luck. If I told myself that enough times…
Maybe I’d start believing it.
“I’m certain it’s nothing against Grace, or the wedding.”
Or me.
I forced another smile and tucked my hair behind my ear. “I’m sure we have everything under complete control—”
“Oh, my God!” Grace scratched her arms, staring down at them with horror. Red bumps popped up everywhere, covering her skin, and she dragged her nails across them frantically, her face going whiter than freshly fallen snow. “I think I’m having an allergic reaction.”
“What?” I walked toward her, eyes wide. “How? There’s no peanuts here. None.”
“I don’t know,” Grace said, swaying slightly.
Michelle rushed to Grace’s side, shooting me a narrow-eyed look as she pulled an EpiPen out of her pocket. “Still think you have this well in hand, Mrs. Holland?”
Chapter 14
Sighing, I stared up at the tiled ceiling, clutching a cup of cold coffee in my hand. Someone had shoved it at me at some point, but I wasn’t sure who. I hadn’t taken a single sip, though. Hospital coffee was barely tolerable at best, and I wasn’t looking for caffeine right now. I was looking for answers.
How had Grace been exposed to peanuts, and how had it happened at my inn? My staff was fully aware of the future princess’s allergy, and I’d made sure to get rid of every last stitch of peanuts from the inn, including my secret stash of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. I’d taken every precaution known to mankind. Then I’d taken a few more.
Yet something had still gotten to her.
How?
Someone sat down beside me, and I didn’t need to open my eyes to know who it was. I knew everything about Jeremy by heart. His walk. His smell. His touch. “Hey, Chels.”
I leaned into him, and his arm closed around my shoulders. “Hey yourself.”
“Mmm.” He kissed my temple. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded, remaining silent and just holding me.
It was perfect.
After a while, I opened my eyes and scanned the waiting room. Grace’s guards were in the corner, whispering. Joseph gestured angrily, and Michelle stomped up to the nurses’ station for the millionth time. They weren’t happy that they weren’t allowed in Grace’s room; they couldn’t even station themselves outside her door unless they wanted to alert the press to a scandal by telling the nurses that they were members of the Talius Royal Guard assigned to guard the crown prince’s fiancée…
They needed to sit tight and wait like the rest of us non–family members.
“Has Grace’s mother come out of her room?” Jeremy asked, his lips still pressed against my skin.
“She was here earlier and told us it wasn’t a severe reaction.”
“Nothing since?” Jeremy asked, smoothing my hair off my cheek.
“Nothing since.” I pulled back and looked up at him. He stared down at me with those bright-green eyes of his that I loved so much, but right now, they looked way too grave for my liking. I let out a slow, calming breath, and decided to test the waters. “It’s kind of weird how these two things happened at the same time, huh? When it rains, it pours…”
“Yeah.” His nostrils flared, and he looked away. “I guess so.”
Then he said nothing else.
“I was looking at our wedding albu
m today,” I said after a long period of silence, my tone a little bit too vulnerable for my liking.
“Is it the fifteenth already?” he asked in surprise. He was the only one who knew I looked at our wedding album on the same day of each month, matching the day we got married. And that I did it every month.
He was the only one I trusted with that information.
“No, I pulled it out early. Do you remember what happened after our first dance?”
“You tripped over the hem of your gown, and I caught you.” His chest rose and fell as he chuckled deeply. “It was uncharacteristic, and adorable.”
“That’s how I feel right now.” I took a deep breath. “Like I’m about to trip, and fall flat on my face in front of everyone.”
“I’d never let you hit the ground,” he said gently. “I’d catch you every time.”
“I know,” I whispered. “But this time, I’m scared I’ll take you down with me.”
“Hey,” he interrupted, pulling me to my feet and lowering his forehead to mine as he cupped my cheeks. Just having him there, with his skin on mine, soothed me. “No one’s falling, and no one’s being dragged anywhere. It’s just a wedding, and it’s almost over. You’ve got this. We’ve got this. You and me, together.”
I inhaled slowly, calming my roiling stomach with the faint scent of his cologne. Closing my hands over his wrists, I nodded, running my fingers over the hair on his forearms. “Forever.”
“And ever,” he whispered, tilting my face up and closing his lips over mine.
My heart skipped a beat, and I swayed closer, never so grateful for him and his ever-present composure. I never thought I’d be the type of girl to say this kind of corny thing, but I didn’t know what I would do without him.
And I never intended to find out.
Chapter 15
We arrived at the inn just after dusk. After what felt like a lifetime of waiting and worrying, Grace and her mother had come out. Grace had looked pale, but she’d had a strength to her eyes. She might have been knocked off balance for a few moments, but she hadn’t been taken down. I’d never liked her as much as I did in that moment. O’Kanes appreciated strength.