Hands to hips, Mom prodded, “Who’s Martin?”
Lacey gasped, clutching her chest. “You didn’t tell Linda about Martin? Oh, Nat Brat. You really don’t like him.”
“I tried.” I moved from the fridge to across the room, a nice buffer but still stifling considering the topic.
“Well, good for you, Nugget.” Mom pulled a dryer sheet off her pant leg. “You’ve put yourself back out there. That’s great. Mike Harkness said his son is moving back to town. He’s—”
“No!” Lacey and I shouted in unison.
Mike Harkness Junior was handsome and likable as long as he kept his lips zipped and shoes on his feet. They guy was smarter than sin, but cited oddball facts nonstop and had an unfortunate and seemingly incurable case of smelly feet.
“Okay. Okay.” Mom, the perpetual matchmaker, surrendered with a laugh. “So who’s Martin?”
Lacey’s brows pinched. “Ellis’s best friend.”
“Is that going to be awkward when you all get together?” Dropping her arms to her sides, she hit me with a worried glare.
“No.” I shook by head too hard and too fast. “Our split was amicable.” Hell, Martin had barely blinked an eye when we met for coffee and I gave him the, it’s not you, it’s me spiel.
Hunched over his phone before he stood from the table, he’d left me sitting with two full coffees and a half-hearted, “See ya around, kid.”
I could handle a run-in with Martin. He meant nothing to me.
But Cole? Mister I can’t like you, and I can’t ignore you, so I’m trying to hate you. Blah, blah, blah. Well, he’d already decimated me with his cruel, yet beautiful, confession. Another encounter with that man, I’d be ground to dust, my honest intentions the mortar, my sinful desires the pestle.
Cole liked me. And that sucked. Because I liked him, too. Too much. Only, I couldn’t like him. How foolish to think I would’ve been okay being part of their group, watching from the wings, while the one person I hated in the world lived her happily ever after with the man I had an agonizing crush on.
So I took myself out of the picture. Easy-peasy. Problem solved.
“You girls staying for dinner?” Mom asked.
“No,” I grunted, throwing all my muscle into popping the lid on my drink. “Just here to pick up the suitcase.”
To which she replied over her shoulder, “Dad set it in the hall for you.”
I turned to my best friend. My happy, giddy, so-in-love sister. “So, where is he taking you?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I love surprises,” Mom said from the refrigerator.
Bottle to my lips I asked, “How do you know what to pack?” I chugged, then winced, the ginger burning my throat.
“He gave me a list.” Lacey’s cheeks blazed, meaning juicy gossip was in my future.
Mom’s head popped up. She whipped around to face us, cauliflower in one hand, a bottle of IPA in the other.
“Come on, before Mom goes Katie Couric on you.” Hooking Lacey’s elbow, I made for the front door. “Bye, Mom. See you Sunday. Love you!”
“Bye, Mama King,” Lacey yelled, her sandals scuffing along the hall. “Thanks for letting me borrow your suitcase!”
“Bye, girls.”
Safely inside the car, I begged. “What’s on the list? What’s on the list?”
“Nothing,” she said with a shrug and an evil grin. One thing I hated about my best friend? Although she wore her heart on her sleeve, she was a master at feeding you juicy details only a nibble at a time, making you drool for more.
“Lacey. Come on.” I squeezed her wrist. “You can tell me. You know I keep a secret better than anyone.”
“That’s why I love you. But seriously. The list was blank. Well, except for the picture he drew at the bottom.” She pulled a folded piece of paper out of her handbag, carefully straightened the page, then handed it over. The header read: What to pack for our trip.
Below was a numbered list, one through five. Each number read NOTHING.
At the bottom of the page, he’d hand drawn a beach chair, a beach ball, a pair of flip-flops, and an umbrella, indicating she only need dress for warm weather.
“Oh, my God.” I slapped a hand to my chest. “He’s taking you to a private beach. The two of you are going to be naked all day and all night, boinking on the beach.”
“Boinking on the beach?”
“You better stock up on sunscreen.”
“Oh, Natalie.” She dropped her head back on the seat. “I didn’t know it was possible to fall for someone so hard and so fast.”
“Love looks good on you, Lacey Lulu.”
“You’re really not sad about Martin?”
“Not even a little bit.” Truth.
“I’m sorry we didn’t make a love connection.”
I’d made a connection all right, just with the wrong man. But that was a burden I’d carry to my grave. “C’mon. Let’s go home and get you packed.”
God was testing me. He had to be. After my last run-in with Cole, I’d un-joined his gym to avoid any uncomfortable altercations. I’d managed one week without a glimpse of his smolder. I had even started driving to work rather than walking to avoid bumping into him on the street.
Yet, there I stood, peonies in hand, face-to-chest with the man I was supposed to hate, and I couldn’t rile one ounce of indignation.
Even when I asked, “What are you doing here?” with as much vinegar as I could muster, my voice sounded light and airy because every cell in my body sang for joy in his presence.
Wrong on too many levels.
With a shrug and a huff, he answered, “Buying flowers.”
“In my flower shop?”
“Technically”—he gestured around the space with a sweep of his arm—“it’s mine.”
I was done. “Give me a freakin’ break. You own this building, too?”
“No.” He unleashed a deadly dimple. “Not yet. Should be mine by the end of next week, though.”
“Seriously.” I poked his cheek, knowing full well I had no right to touch. “Put that thing away.”
The skin between his brows bunched. His dimple faded. “Since you’re here, and I’m here, can we talk?”
Another
