had the alarming feeling it might be recognition, but she shook it off.
It simply was not possible that, following so quickly on her announcement to her friends that she had sworn off love, Turner Kennedy—the first man who had ever stolen her heart—would show up here.
CHAPTER TWO
“DID SOMEBODY JUST ARRIVE?” Andrea asked. “Another member of my little work party?”
“I thought we were your little work party,” Casey said, trying not to panic. “Emily and me.”
“Well, you were, but Cole pointed out to me he doesn’t want Emily to do any heavy lifting, and he didn’t really think you would want to be up on the roof replacing strings of Christmas lights. He wanted another guy, even though I asked Martin to help with the electrical. He said he’d be happy to do it for nothing. Isn’t that nice?”
Casey was having trouble focusing on Martin’s niceness.
“Who is it?” Emily asked. “He wouldn’t tell me who he invited. He just said it would be a surprise. I’m guessing Joe.”
“I’m not sure who it is,” Casey said, though she was guessing it was not Joe! She was amazed at how normal her voice sounded, considering she was forcing words out past constricted vocal chords. Because if it was who she suspected, it was a surprise, all right. Of the worst possible sort!
And why wouldn’t Turner Kennedy be just the surprise Cole would bring to the inn? the scientist in Casey insisted on asking. It was certainly one of the available options!
Turner had been the best man at Emily and Cole’s wedding. Why wouldn’t he be here as they assembled as much of the original wedding party as was possible for their renewal of vows? Why wouldn’t he jump at the chance to help get the old inn ready for their magical day, just as she had?
Because he disappeared, Casey wailed to herself.
Still, at one time, he and Cole had been best friends. Casey had assumed the friendship had been left behind, because when she had asked—not nearly as frequently as she wanted to, and with only the most casual interest—Emily had been vague.
“Oh. I’ll have to ask Cole. I think he said Turner is overseas. He’s some kind of government contractor.”
She’d thought, in those three magical days they had spent together following the wedding, that they had known everything about each other. Government contractor? Casey had felt the first shiver of betrayal at that. He hadn’t mentioned anything about being a government contractor. But in retrospect, he had headed her off every single time she had tried to delve into his life.
Just pretend I’m a prince who found a glass slipper. And that it fits you.
“If Turner is somewhere amazing, like France or Italy,” Emily had said, thankfully not reading her friend’s distress, “Cole and I should go visit!”
And when, after waiting an appropriate amount of time, Casey had screwed up the nerve to ask if Emily had asked Cole about Turner, her friend had replied, “Cole said he’s lost touch. Men! Relationships are a low priority.”
That was actually the first time Casey had heard bitterness in Emily’s voice in reference to her busy husband. But not the last.
Why would Turner be here now? Well, why not?
Why wouldn’t he come and help celebrate Christmas with his best friend’s newly reunited and rejoicing family? It went with everything Emily had been saying about the changes Cole was making. Her husband was giving a new priority to building and keeping relationships.
That’s what Casey was doing, too, wasn’t it? Making a vow to realize the importance of friendships before it was too late? Celebrating Christmas and the spirit of love with her best friends instead of that crazy, unpredictable, painful conglomeration of people sometimes known as a family?
Even her decision to create the kind of family she had always wanted for herself seemed to be wavering, perhaps due to some combination of her friends’ lack of enthusiasm and his arrival.
Stop it, Casey ordered herself. She didn’t even know if it was Turner. But all the ordering in the world would not slow her heart as the cab pulled away, and the man bent, effortlessly picked up a duffel bag and looped the strap over his shoulder, before turning to the steps that led to the front porch.
Casey was aware she was holding her breath as he stepped toward the faint light being thrown by a string of Christmas lights with too many burned out bulbs.
The light may have been weak, but it washed the familiar contours of his face, and turned the snowflakes caught in the glossy darkness of his hair to gold.
Her gasp was audible, and she covered it with quick desperation by clearing her throat. Casey’s wineglass trembled in her hand. She set it down. She told herself to move, to get out of here fast.
Instead, she was glued to the spot, her feet frozen, her eyes locked on his face.
It was him.
It was Turner. It was Turner Kennedy in the flesh.
Not unchanged, though the changes were subtle. Something in the way he held himself made a shiver go up and down her spine. As he arrived at the bottom of the step, he paused.
He had broadened in the years since she had last seen him, youthful litheness giving way to the pure power of a man completely in his prime. What hadn’t changed was that he was exuding an almost sizzling sense of himself, who he was in the world, and what he could take on.
Anything.
If the door of the inn had suddenly crashed open and a horde of bandits had fallen upon him, she had the sense he would be ready for it. He might even enjoy it!
Casey shook the picture off, annoyed that she could be so susceptible to the whisper of imagination. She knew nothing about him. She had once convinced herself otherwise, and she had been wrong.
The faint light illuminated his face, and she shivered again, despite herself. There seemed to be a certain remoteness in his expression that was different, but what did she know? She’d been a naive young bridesmaid when Turner Kennedy had been Cole Watson’s best man.
She had been the geeky girl, the science nerd, the brain, who had been noticed by the most popular boy in the school, the captain of the football team, the boy whose picture in every girl’s yearbook was marked with inked hearts.
Despite his closed expression, Turner was still the most astonishingly handsome man she had ever seen, so good-looking that a girl could fall for him.
At first sight.
So much so that when he had taken her chin in his hands as dawn broke, the morning after Cole and Emily’s wedding, and said, “Run away with me,” she hadn’t even hesitated.
Casey had tossed years and years of absolute control right out the window.
“Three days,” he’d said. “Spend the next three days with me.”
She should have known better
