The Lies that Bind by Karen MacInerney

Author:Karen MacInerney
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gray Whale Press

14

The Snug Harbor Inn was a gorgeous mansion nestled into a cove on the south side of Snug Harbor, a little bit away from the bustle of town. The house was white painted clapboard with a grand porch that extended all along the front, with baskets of red impatiens and dark green ivy and cozy-looking rocking chairs with plump cushions for guests to enjoy the view of the stunning Maine coast.

“Maybe we should get a room here some weekend,” Nicholas suggested as we pulled up in the gravel parking lot a little bit down the hill.

“That would be amazing,” I said.

“Maybe for your birthday. Unless you want to go further afield?”

“How could anyplace be more beautiful than this?” I asked as I got out of the car and smoothed down my dress.

I stopped for a moment to admire yet again the deep blue water, the pearly white of the breaking surf, and the brilliant, sunset-hued sky. A breeze kicked up as I stood there, bringing the faint scent of roses on the cool, salt-laden air, along with just a hint of balsam fir. It was clean and fresh and invigorating, and once again I thanked my lucky stars that I got to live here… and as Nicholas rounded the car and put his arm around me, giving me a squeeze, I added thanks again that I had met this handsome, kind, absolutely entrancing man. He gave me a gentle kiss on the lips and took in my made-up face and styled hair. “Have I told you recently how beautiful you are?”

I blushed; after twenty-plus years of a less-than-ideal marriage, I wasn’t used to compliments. “Thanks,” I replied, feeling a little like a teenager.

He gave me another tender kiss, then took my hand. “Shall we?”

“I’d love to,” I said, and together we walked up the steps and across the front porch to the door of the Snug Harbor Inn.

The lobby somehow managed to be both grand and cozy at the same time. A massive oak staircase was the centerpiece of the room, with ornate carving and a deep blue velvet carpet runner over the gleaming wood steps. Two cozy nooks with overstuffed chairs overlooked views of the front porch and the green, manicured lawn outside, and the front desk was just that: an old-fashioned desk that would have looked at home in a banker’s office, except for the addition of an exquisite bouquet of roses and larkspur in a crystal vase. Mounted on the wall behind the desk was a walnut board of about twenty old-fashioned keys on hooks. I wondered which one belonged to Josie Cole.

“We’re here for dinner,” I said.

“The restaurant is through there,” the young woman said in a pleasant voice, pointing to a pair of open double doors just to the left of the grand staircase. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Do we need one?” Nicholas asked.

“It’s usually advisable, but I think we’ve got some tables open tonight. The host should be able to seat you; he’s right through those doors.

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