скачать книгу бесплатно
“Oh-oh.”
“Problem?”
“The cards are in my cabin.”
“I guess we can scratch that plan.” He took a step closer. “Do you have a Plan B?”
He stood so near that Lexi realized if she turned even the tiniest little bit she’d be in his arms.
We could spend the time in bed.
A light flared in his eyes and for a second Lexi feared she’d spoken aloud.
“You’ve thought of something,” he said, his voice deep and low. “I can see it in your eyes.”
Her heart skipped a beat and she swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. What was it he saw on her face? Desire? Guilt? A combination of the two?
He could be married, she reminded herself, more firmly this time. Even if he hadn’t walked down the aisle, he could be engaged. At the very least—handsome as he was—he had to be dating someone.
“Well,” he prompted. “What is it?”
Her mind searched for something that didn’t involve getting naked. She kept coming up empty until it hit her that she had plans for the evening that preceded Jack Snow and the unexpected blizzard. “Would you like to help me pick out wedding invitations?”
Jack stilled, hoping his shock didn’t show on his face. He’d sworn Lexi had told him she wasn’t engaged or even dating anyone. Or had he just imagined that conversation? “When’s the happy day?”
“Oh, these aren’t for me,” Lexi said with a dismissive wave. “They’re for my friend Mimi.”
Jack pulled his brows together. The conversation was getting stranger by the minute. “Don’t the bride and groom usually pick out their own invitations?”
“You know your weddings.” Lexi waved to two older women enjoying a cup of tea at the dining room table before shifting her attention back to Jack. “But in this case Mimi and Hank have come to an impasse. Since the invitations need to go out in two weeks, they decided that I should choose.”
“You’re serious.”
Her gaze narrowed. “You don’t approve.”
“It doesn’t matter if I approve or not.” He stepped aside to let another couple pass. “It just seems to me that if two people supposedly in love can’t compromise on invitations they have no business getting married.”
Lexi’s jaw jutted out. “Selecting invitations isn’t an easy process.”
Let it go, he told himself. He didn’t know these people. Who cared if they let a friend—or even a stranger—choose their invitations? But for some reason it did matter.
“You and I just met,” he said in what he hoped was a reasonable tone. “But I bet we could settle on an invitation we both liked.”
Lexi rolled her eyes. “Of course we could. This isn’t our wedding. We’re not emotionally invested in the outcome.”
“Cop-out.”
Lexi’s brows slammed together. “What did you say?”
Oops. Obviously he’d been a bit too direct.
“We’ll pretend it’s real. Enter into a good, honest discussion and see what happens,” he said in a conciliatory tone. “Unless you’re afraid to try.”
Jack expected an outright refusal or at least a strong rebuttal. He didn’t expect her to turn on her heel and head back down the hall.
“Hey,” he called out. “Where are you going?”
“To get Coraline’s laptop.” She tossed the words over her shoulder. “Then you and I are picking out wedding invitations.”
Jack narrowed his gaze. “That one is curvy and way too girly.”
Lexi opened her mouth then shut it and counted to ten. If she’d thought he was going to simply go along with her preferences, she’d been mistaken.
When she’d placed the laptop on the coffee table in the Great Room and pulled up one of the largest sites for online wedding invitations, Lexi had made a conscious decision. She wouldn’t even think about Mimi and Hank’s preferences. Instead she’d do as the bride-to-be had suggested and choose the invitations as if they were for her own wedding.
Unfortunately, now there was a male’s opposing opinion thrown into the mix. The style had been their first argument, er, disagreement. She wanted fancy. He wanted casual. After much back-and-forth discussion, she’d reconsidered. This would be an afternoon wedding. In a wildflower garden. A less formal invitation only made sense. Thankfully there were some very cool casual invitations.
Unfortunately, there were also a gazillion of them. They finally settled on one with a celery-colored flower and brown lettering that they’d both liked.
Then it had taken her almost a half hour to get Jack to see that there was no need to purchase RSVP response cards for the reception. He’d been adamant that they were essential … until she’d given him the statistics from a prominent wedding site on how few people responded even when a stamped envelope was included.
She’d hoped the font discussion would go more quickly, but so far that hadn’t happened.
“The font you’re proposing just doesn’t fit the casual style of our invitations,” Jack said in a reasonable tone that set her teeth on edge.
Lexi traced the curves and swirls of the beautiful font on the sheet of paper she’d printed out. Years ago, back when she’d been waiting for Drew to pop the question, she’d done a little invitation shopping and had fallen in love with this particular font. But Drew had never asked and now the font—which she’d thought might have a second chance—was in danger of being cast aside. Much like she’d been all those years ago.
Unexpected tears stung the back of her lids, but Lexi blinked them back. She cleared her throat. “It’s just that way back when I dreamed of a big wedding, I always pictured my invitations with this font.”
Without warning, Jack’s hand closed over hers. “Then you must have it.”
His generosity brought a lump to her throat. But as much as she wanted to take the offer and run with it, this was a joint effort. “No.”
“No?”
“You’re right. The font is too formal for the invitations and the type of ceremony planned. Besides, it’s supposed to be your wedding, too,” Lexi said. “We’ll find one we both like. One that will be perfect for our fabulous invitations.”
Fifteen minutes later the selections had been completed and invitations ordered using Mimi’s credit card number. Because they needed to be mailed out in two weeks, Lexi chose the rush delivery option.
After writing down the confirmation number, she flipped the laptop lid shut and smiled at Jack. “Thank you. You definitely brought value to the process.”
“I don’t know that I added all that much—”
“You were a natural,” she said. “It was as if you’d been through the process before.”
“Perhaps I have.”
Something in his tone alerted her. Lexi took her time unplugging the laptop. “Did ordering the invitations jog something in your memory banks?”
He shrugged and his eyes refused to meet hers.
“You can be honest with me.”
“I remember a wedding. I wore a tux.” His brows pulled together in a frown. “But there were roses on the altar. Roses. That doesn’t make any sense.”
Lexi wasn’t sure what the point was, though she was sure there was one. “Roses are a common wedding flower. The long-stemmed white ones are a favorite of mine.”
“I detest them. Their sickening sweet smell alone makes me nauseated.”
Lexi forced a light tone. “So either it wasn’t your wedding or the bride refused to compromise on the flowers.”
He didn’t smile back.
“I don’t feel married,” he said slowly, his gaze meeting hers. “Don’t you think if I’d walked down the aisle, I’d remember?”
“I don’t know,” Lexi said honestly. “The psychiatrist would be the one to answer that question.”
“If I did have a wife, wouldn’t she be looking for me?”
“Unless she’s an ex.” Lexi’s spirits lifted at the thought.
A look of desperation filled his eyes. “I want to remember.”
“I know you do.” Lexi placed a hand on his arm. “But you got tossed around pretty badly in that avalanche. Cut yourself a little slack. Your memory will come back. Just give it time.”
Slowly the panic in his eyes receded. “You’re right.” He gave a halfhearted chuckle. “I wonder if I was this impatient in my other life.”
Lexi grinned. “Probably.”
He studied her for a long moment. “You’re a nice person, Lexi. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
When she rose, he scrambled to his feet. “If there’s anything I can do for you, just say the word.”
“Flowers,” she said.
“What?”
“The word is flowers.”
Jack cocked his head. Then a slow smile stole over his face. “I’d love to buy you flowers. What kind do you like?”
“Not for me,” she said. “On Monday I have an appointment with the florist in town to pick out flowers for Mimi and Hank’s wedding.”
“Let me guess,” he said. “You need a male perspective.”
“Why, Mr. Snow.” Lexi batted her lashes and spoke in her best Southern drawl imitation. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were psychic.”
“You may be right, Ms. Brennan.” Jack tapped an index finger against his temple. “Because I already know there’s not going to be any roses.”
Chapter Four
After a night of restful sleep, Jack opened his eyes and was greeted by a blue sky and sunlight streaming in through the window. He stretched then plopped back against the pillows, reluctant to leave the warm cocoon. While the room wasn’t cheap, it was worth every penny.
The king-size four-poster bed boasted both a down mattress pad and comforter and six super-soft pillows. A large window offered a panoramic view of the snowcapped mountains. Last night he’d left the shades open and the falling flakes had lulled him to sleep.
He’d desperately needed the rest. Yesterday had been a long, tiring day. After he and Lexi had finished picking out wedding invitations, she’d taken him on a tour of the lodge. He’d seen the fitness center, the wine cellar and a kitchen that was clearly state-of-the-art. But when Lexi had invited him to join her and Addie for a movie in Coraline’s suite after dinner, he hadn’t even been tempted.
His head had started to ache again and it had become increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open. He’d gone back to his room, found the bottle of pills he’d been given on discharge and popped one. Once he showered, he’d crawled under the covers. Watching the snow outside his window was the last thing he remembered.
Though there was no reason he couldn’t sleep for several more hours, Jack flung back the thick comforter and swung his legs to the side of the bed. The cool air turned his skin to goose flesh, rendering him instantly wide-awake. He pushed to his feet and inhaled deeply. This was a new day. A new beginning.
“My name is—” He paused to let the name come out of hiding. But the only one that came to mind was Jack Snow, the name he’d impulsively chosen yesterday.
An expletive burst from his lips. How could a man forget an entire life? A total existence? His own name? People had head injuries every day but they didn’t end up forgetting who they were, for God’s sake.
Anger and frustration surged. Jack crossed the room in several long strides. It felt so good he did it again. And again. He paced until his sense of control returned. Until he could accept the fact that there was no use getting upset or whining about something he couldn’t change. He was just going to have to suck it up and hope either he remembered his past or someone identified him before his money ran out.
At least, there was one upside. Hanging out with Lexi in such beautiful surroundings was an unexpected boon of his memory loss. Not that he could pursue a relationship. Even if he could say for certain that he wasn’t romantically entangled in his past life, Lexi didn’t appear to be a woman who engaged in casual flings. Once his memory returned, he’d be headed back to his old life.
And that needed to happen quickly. An unexpected sense of urgency gripped his chest. Beads of sweat dotted his brow. There was something he needed to do, something pressing. He gripped the rising tension with both hands and pulled it back down. Then he took a deep breath and slowly released it. There was always something pressing, he reminded himself. That’s why he’d needed this vacation.
Vacation?
Jack paused. Now where the heck had that come from?
Several soft melodic dings sounded over the intercom system and interrupted his thoughts. If he’d been sleeping he doubted he’d have heard the tones. It took a moment for him to remember that they signified a meal was being served.
He’d skipped dinner, and from the delicious aromas filling the air, Jack had the feeling this breakfast would be as much of a treat as the lunch he’d enjoyed yesterday. Grabbing a shirt and jeans from the drawer, he quickly dressed. He was almost to the door when the sound of bells filled his head. But these were different than the soft dings. An image of a large stone structure with a huge expanse of lawn appeared in his mind’s eye. The bells continued to ring and the sound became a melody.
The stone building came into sharp focus. So clear he could see the veins in the ivy covering the white stone. But try as he might, he couldn’t make out the words on the sign out front.
The soft dings sounded again and the melodic bells, along with the stone building, vanished. Jack tried to pull the image back but it was gone. Still, he felt encouraged.
Lexi had been right. Getting out of the hospital had been just what he needed to jump-start his memory.
Jack closed his fingers around the doorknob. He couldn’t wait to see Lexi’s expression when he told her the good news.
It had to be the storm, Lexi decided. Saturday mornings were always busy, but this one was crazy.
She dipped another thick slice of brioche into the egg, heavy cream, sugar and ground spices mixture before dropping it onto the large cast-iron griddle. Normally two-thirds of the guests stayed for breakfast on the weekend. But today it appeared everyone had decided to fortify themselves with a hearty helping of her brioche French toast—with fresh berry compote—before venturing out into the wintery weather.
Despite being up and busy before dawn, Lexi had found time while whisking the eggs with heavy cream to think about Jack. She wondered how he’d slept, if the headache that had plagued him last night was gone. But most of all she wondered if he’d had as much fun as she had picking out wedding invitations.
“More French toast, please,” Coraline called out as she pushed open the door between the dining room and the kitchen. “Everyone brought their appetite this morning.”
“I’ve got a batch ready to go.” Lexi put on a mitt and opened the door of the commercial-grade oven. She slid out the baking sheet, removed the foil covering and transferred the warm French toast to the platter in Coraline’s hand.
“They look fabulous, Lexi,” the older woman said. “And the way everyone is raving, they obviously taste as good as they look. Keep ‘em coming, my dear. I’ll definitely be back for more.”
