Page 19 of Love You
He started to ask if he could help her when it struck him that her face had an uncanny likeness to someone else he knew. Same blue eyes, same blond hair, same bone structure.
“Mother, what are you doing here?” A glowering Darcy nearly hurled herself over the burl-wood counter to get to her. Win got the impression she wasn’t too thrilled to see her mom, which made him want to stick around, watch some fireworks.
“Is that a way to greet me?” The tall blonde gave Darcy one of those European cheek-kisses, and then quickly pulled away like she might get rumpled. She took one look at Darcy’s appearance and sniffed. “Suck in your stomach, dear.”
Darcy smoothed the wrinkles from her shirt and nervously tugged on her pants that had probably stuck to her from the heat and sitting in a chair all day. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I wanted to see where you work.” Darcy’s mother darted a glance around the reception area, regarding it with interest.
The old log lodge was awesome. Win’s parents had purchased it during the recession because they wanted the walk-in traffic from Main Street and had updated the building with a gym and rock-climbing wall, using the old bedrooms as offices. There was an enormous stone fireplace in the lobby and a seating arrangement where they often held orientations for group tours.
After taking her fill, her gaze fell on Win. She looked him up and down, sizing him up like a boot camp sergeant. It was a little unnerving and his arms stiffened at his side. He was just about to introduce himself when she beat him to the punch.
“I’m Geneva Wallace, Darcy’s mother.” She drilled Darcy with a look, silently rebuking her for not doing the honors.
Win watched Darcy shrink before his very eyes and something protective stirred inside him. Moving closer, he draped his arm over her shoulders. “Now I know where Darcy gets her beauty from.”
Usually mothers lapped that up like puppies with a bowl of milk.
“She doesn’t look anything like me,” Geneva said, her face puckering up like she’d just been sprayed by a skunk. “She takes after her father.”
The truth was Darcy was soft and round and small, nothing like Geneva’s tall angular frame. And not to make snap judgments but Geneva gave off a sour vibe. Darcy, when she wasn’t constantly giving him a hard time, was the personification of sweet.
“I was hoping to meet your fiancé,” Geneva said, and brushed past Darcy to peer down the hall as if he might be hiding behind the Xerox machine.
It was the way she said “fiancé,” almost with a sneer in her voice, that pushed Win over the edge. It took a lot to make him dislike a person but he was pretty sure he disliked Geneva Wallace. She seemed cold and disapproving. Win’s own mother was a hugger. Even though her grown sons were three times her size, she still would’ve rocked them to sleep at night if she could. Win remembered her soothing him, kissing away his tears, after a bad report card, before anyone had figured out he had dyslexia.
“Where is he, Darcy? Lewis said he worked with you.”
It was so many kinds of wrong but Win couldn’t help himself. “At your service,” he said, and bowed. It was unctuous as hell but he was going for shock and awe.
He looked up expecting to find gratitude shining in Darcy’s cornflower blue eyes. Instead, they were blazing with something akin to anger. Well, shit! He wasn’t used to that reaction from women and it just made him want to dig in his heels.
“You’re Darcy’s fiancé?” Geneva gave him a closer inspection as if she were searching for flaws.
Darcy cleared her throat and stared daggers at him. “He’s not.”
Geneva straightened. “I didn’t think so. Where is he? I’d like to meet my future son-in-law.”
Darcy seemed to be weighing her options. Go with a lie or come clean.
Win was too busy gleaning the meaning of “I didn’t think so.” The dismissal stuck in his craw. Was he to interpret it as Darcy wasn’t good enough for him or that he wasn’t good enough for Darcy? He could deal with the latter. In a mother’s eyes, no man was ever good enough for her daughter. But ever since Geneva had walked in the door he’d sensed a mother-daughter hostility that was palpable.
“I’m not her fiancé,” he said. “I’m Darcy’s husband.”
Chapter Six
Geneva’s eyes grew so large Darcy was sure her pupils would burst. “You’re married? Lewis said you were engaged. When did this happen?” she asked skeptically as if she knew she was being duped.
“We’re not—”
“Telling anyone.” Win wouldn’t let her talk and was clearly making it up as he went along. “We wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Well, I’m definitely surprised.” Geneva sank into one of the couches. “The ink isn’t even dry on your divorce.”
“I was divorced a year ago, Mother.”
Win went to the cooler and poured her mother a glass of water.
