him on the other side of the desk.
“I’ll show you to your room. It has a private bath and a great view of the bay—well, it’s a great view on a clear day,” she amended with a rueful grin over her shoulder as she led the way up the steps. “Maybe by tomorrow morning it will be clear,” she added hopefully. “Anyway, breakfast is between eight and nine in the dining room, which is next to the drawing room. Checkout is eleven. My name’s Allison, and I’ll be on duty till ten if you need anything. Just ring the bell on the desk.” She paused before a second-floor door at the front of the house and inserted the key, then pushed the door open and stepped aside to let him enter.
Jake strolled past her and gave the room a quick but thorough scrutiny. It seemed that the hand of a skilled decorator had been at work here, as well. The room was done in restful shades of blue. A large bay window at the front of the house would afford a panoramic view of the sea in clear weather, he suspected, and a cushioned window seat beckoned invitingly. A four-poster bed, antique writing desk, intricately carved wardrobe and comfortable-looking easy chair with ottoman completed the furnishing. His gaze paused on the fireplace, noting the candle sconces on the mantle, and again he wished it was cool enough for a fire.
“I hope this is all right,” Allison said anxiously.
He turned to her with a smile. “Perfect. The room is very inviting.”
Allison grinned. “My aunt has a way with color and such. Everybody says so. And she makes all the guests feel real welcome. That’s why we have so many regulars. You know, you’re really lucky to get this room. It’s the most requested one. Especially with honeymooners.”
Jake grinned. “I can see why. It’s quite…romantic.”
Allison blushed and fumbled with the doorknob. “Well, if you need anything, just let me know. Have a pleasant evening, Mr. West”
As the door clicked shut, Jake drew a deep breath and stretched tiredly, flexing the tight muscles in his neck. He’d been on the road since early morning, but the time had been well spent. Before he decided to make this area his permanent home, he intended to check it out thoroughly.
He strolled over to the window and stared out thoughtfully into the gray mist Home, he repeated silently. Surprisingly enough, the word had a nice sound. After twelve years of roaming the globe, his worldly possessions following him around in a few small boxes, the thought of having a home, a place to call his own, had a sudden, unexpected appeal. But he shouldn’t be too surprised, he supposed. For the last couple of years he’d been plagued with a vague feeling of restlessness, of emptiness, a sense of “Is this all there is?” Even before his brother’s phone call, the notion of “settling down” had crept into his thoughts, though he’d pushed it firmly aside. It wasn’t something he’d seriously considered—or even wanted to consider—for a very long time. In fact, not since he was engaged to Maggie.
Jake frowned. Funny. He hadn’t really thought much about Maggie these last few years. Purposely. During the early years after their breakup, she’d haunted his thoughts day and night, the guilt growing inside him with each passing month. It was only in the last three or four years that he had met with some success in his attempts to keep thoughts of her at bay. So why was he thinking of her now? he wondered, his frown deepening.
His gaze strayed to the chocolate-chip cookies, wrapped in clear paper and tied with a ribbon, resting between the pillows on the bed. He’d noticed them earlier, had been impressed by the thoughtful touch. Maybe they had triggered thoughts of the woman he’d once loved, he reflected. She used to bake him chocolate-chip cookies—his favorite—he recalled with a bittersweet smile.
But Maggie was only a memory now, he reminded himself with a sigh. He had no idea what had become of her. She’d moved less than a year after their parting, breaking all ties with the town which held such unhappy memories for her. Even his parents, to whom she had always been close, had no idea where she went It was better that way, she’d told them. They understood. And he did, too. But though he’d initiated the breakup, he had nevertheless been filled with an odd sense of desolation to realize he no longer knew Maggie’s whereabouts. He didn’t understand why he felt that way. Didn’t even try to. What good would it do? All he could do was hope she was happy.
Jake walked over to the bed and picked up the cookies, weighing them absently in his hand. Here he was, in the honeymoon suite, with only memories of a woman he’d once loved to warm his heart. For a moment, self-pity hovered threateningly. Which was ridiculous, he rebuked himself impatiently. His solitary state was purely his own doing. He’d known his share of women through the years, even met a few who made him fleetingly entertain the idea of marriage. But that’s as far as it ever went. Because, bottom line, he’d never met anyone who touched his heart the way Maggie had.
He sat down in the chair and wearily let his head fall against the cushioned back. He’d never really admitted that before. But it was true. Maybe that was the legacy of a first love, he mused, that no one else ever measured up. Most people got over that, of course, moved on to meet someone new and fall in love again. He hadn’t. As a result, he’d never regretted his decision to remain unmarried. Until now. Suddenly, as he contemplated a future that consisted of a more “normal” land-bound existence instead of the nomadic life he’d been living, the thought of a wife and family was appealing. For the first time in years, he felt ready to seriously consider marriage—and fatherhood.
Of course, there was one little problem, he thought with a humorless smile. He hadn’t met the right woman.
Then again, maybe he had, he acknowledged with a sudden, bittersweet pang of regret, his smile fading. But it was too late for regrets. To be specific, twelve years too late.
“I mean, this guy is gorgeous!”
Abby looked at her sister and grinned as she scrambled some eggs. “Are you sure you’re not exaggerating?” she asked skeptically.
“Absolutely not” Allison peeked into the oven to check the blueberry muffins, then turned back to her twin. “Tall, handsome, dark hair, deep brown eyes. And you know what? I think he’s single.”
“Yeah?” Abby paused, her tone interested. “How old is he?”
Allison shrugged. “Old. Thirty-something, probably. But for an older guy, he’s awesome.”
“Let me serve him, okay?” Abby cajoled.
“Hey, I saw him first!” Allison protested.
“Yes, but you had your chance to talk to him last night. It’s my turn. That’s only fair, isn’t it, Aunt Maggie?”
Maggie smiled and shook her head. “You two are getting awfully worked up about someone who will be checking out in an hour or two.”
Allison sighed dramatically. “True. But we can dream, can’t we? Maybe he’s a rich tycoon. Or maybe he’s lost his beloved wife and is retracing the route they traveled on their honeymoon. Or maybe he’s a Hollywood producer scouting the area for a new movie. Or…”
“Or maybe you better watch those muffins before they get too brown,” Maggie reminded her with a nod toward the oven.
Allison sighed. “Oh, Aunt Maggie, you have no imagination when it comes to men.”
“I have plenty of imagination. Fortunately, I also have a good dose of common sense.”
“But common sense is so…so boring,” Allison complained.
