by Jacie Floyd
“Have you been to Casey, Illinois?” Barb asked. “They’ve made a name for themselves in just a few years by having big stuff.”
“What kind of big stuff?” Cora looked up, eyes sparkling.
“The world’s largest rocking chair, mail box, wind chimes. Stuff like that. They have the Guinness people to come and certify it.”
Mick nodded. “I talked to their mayor a couple of months ago. They’re doing pretty well with that angle.”
“That’s what we need,” Barb said. “A claim to fame that would draw in visitors.”
“That should be our new focus.” Mick slid another look toward Jillian. “I’m asking the town council to give it some thought. Maybe create an exploratory committee. We’ll need lots of ideas. Maybe we’ll have a contest.”
“I recommend something with cats!” Cora’s suggestion drew chuckles from everyone at the table. “The world’s biggest cat, or biggest collection of cats.”
“Good idea,” Claire said. “Although we shouldn’t copy-cat off of Casey, pun intended.”
As Jillian savored her first bite of the sea bass entrée, Cora turned her way. “How are you adjusting to Bert’s death, dear? You still seem so sad.”
“At events like this, I keep looking around for Dad and having to remind myself he’s gone.”
“He did love these big social occasions, didn’t he? Have you thought of getting a pet to keep you company? I remember how upset he was last summer about having to put Ziggy down. I suggested he adopt one of my cats, but he said he wasn’t ready.”
Here was someone else who thought Dad had Ziggy put down. Had he? Would he have done that without telling her? Was that another way he’d protected her all these years? “Is that what happened with Ziggy? I didn’t have the details.”
“Oh, so sad. Bert’d been holding on to him longer than he should have anyway. The poor thing was mostly blind, partially lame, and he had a tumor on his side. One day Bert came home, and Ziggy had fallen down the stairs. The poor man was distraught. He scooped the dog up and took him to the vet, but it was too late to do anything but put him out of his misery.”
That would have been hard on him. Jillian got Ziggy as a birthday gift the summer before her mother died. The dog would have been one of Dad’s last links to that life the three of them shared. Of course, he had protected Jillian from the severity of that loss. That’s what he always did. Damn. Had anyone been there to comfort him? Who was the mystery woman who had shared his life at the end?
The dinner dishes were cleared, and glasses filled with bubbly for the traditional toasts. Harper’s biological father spoke earnestly and briefly about his daughter, his new son-in-law, and their hometown.
While he waited for his turn, Liam slouched in his chair, projecting the fallen-angel persona he’d perfected. No fidgeting for him, just an impatient frown and tug on his bowtie. Next to him, the ever-beautiful Fiona pressed her hand to his shoulder and gave him an encouraging smile. Liam slipped his arm around her and dropped a kiss on her cheek. Damn. Harper wished she hadn’t seen that. They looked all-too perfect together. Finally, the stuffy doctor turned the mike over to the maid-of-honor.
Since Fiona was crazy-beautiful, it didn’t seem fair that her speech was witty and charming with anecdotes about Harper’s resourcefulness, positivity, and loyalty. If Jillian was being fair about it, the super-model was super-nice, too. A good sister to Harper. But way too interested in Liam.
“You’re next on the chopping block,” she joked when it was Liam’s turn. “Try not to top me.”
“Impossible,” he said, flowing gracefully to his feet.
For his sake, Jillian’s palms sweated. She prayed that he was prepared, that he would be well received, that no one turned their back on him, booed, or walked out. In Sunnyside, any of those things could happen, but maybe their fondness for Zach outweighed their animosity toward Liam.
“I knew I’d have to speak,” Liam grumbled as he took his place at the speaker’s podium. Sticking his hands in his pockets to keep them from shaking, he hoped he looked relaxed. “I wish I’d written something down, but I assumed I could wing it. I mean, talk about Zach, toast the happy couple, be charming. How hard could it be?” A few kind souls chuckled.
Taking a sip of ice water, he regretted not having something on paper. How long had it been since he’d had to speak in public? Two years ago, at the hearing that ended his career and branded him a pariah in the financial community? Public speaking had never been his strong suit. And that experience had set him back a long way.
A glass of scotch might help. But no, that was his addiction talking. He could do this, despite the roomful of largely disapproving faces. Only Zach and Harper looked at him encouragingly. And Jillian, too, thank God, but he shouldn’t focus on her or the town gossips would run rampant with speculation.
“Zach’s been my best friend since we were four years old and decided to walk out of pre-school together. Before the day was officially over. Or rather, I decided I wanted to leave, and Zach correctly assumed I’d never make it home on my own. Problem was, he didn’t know the way home any better than I did. By some stroke of luck, we managed to find The Dairy Bar where they offered to call his mom to come get us, and they gave us ice cream cones while we waited.” He looked around for the Dalton family, owners of The Dairy Bar. “Thanks for helping us out, Mrs. Dalton.” A few people applauded, and he settled into a groove.
“So, Zach and I go way back. I could tell a few stories that would tarnish his halo, but I won’t. No mention will be made about who was or wasn’t involved the time a chicken coop was installed in the lobby of the high school. And remember when all the Halloween pumpkins and jack-o-lanterns from every porch in town were stashed in the gazebo? I doubt if Zach had anything to do with that. But I do remember times when he spearheaded activities for the greater good. Like raising money for Mrs. Wilson’s new wheelchair. And when he organized the senior class into rebuilding the bleachers on the football field. The time my grandfather had a stroke, and I was out of town. Zach spent the night at Pops’ bedside, so he wouldn’t be alone. Not because he had to, but because that’s the kind of friend he is.” Looking around the reception area, he wondered why he thought it would kill him to jot down a few notes. Some faces had softened, but others remained grim.
“My title here today is best man, but only because it would be impossible for Zach to perform the duty for himself.” Some people still expected Liam to screw this up, but not Zach. He was lounging nearby, beaming with pride, affection, and encouragement. “He’s everything I could want in my doctor and my best friend. Smart, kind, generous. Loyal. He stood by me more than once when a lot of people thought he shouldn’t.” Okay, he shouldn’t have reminded them about that. The speech was supposed to be about Zach, not Liam. People crossed their arms and looked away.
“Today, it’s my honor to stand by him. And I’m happy to do it, despite the record number of spreadsheets that clogged my email in the past month.” All the members of the wedding party laughed. Okay, back on track. “He assured me that all Best Men are called upon to contact the National Weather Service for an official hourly forecast. To line up a platoon of farmers with snowplows ‘in case’ of snow, despite the official clear-and-sunny forecast. To pick up two identical wedding rings for Harper from the jeweler ‘in case’ one of them got lost. To have a back-up chef on-hand ‘in case’ the scheduled one couldn’t make it.”
He couldn’t avoid looking Jillian’s way with that comment. She’d really saved the day by pulling off the rehearsal dinner with zero warning. Beautiful and elusive in an indefinable, show-stopping way, she raised her brows and smiled ruefully at him. He couldn’t turn his gaze away until Jimbo and Grady hooted at him to get on with it. He gulped and turned to face his friends, a much less distracting focus. “Oh, wait. That one turned out to be necessary. That’s the kind of careful guy he is. He’s so careful, I can’t believe he didn’t write a speech for me beforehand.”
<
br /> The groom pulled out a folded paper from his inside-coat pocket. “You want this one?” he asked.
“Do I need it?”
Zach shook his head. “You’re doing fine, but if you get stuck...”
Liam waited for the laughter to die down. “When Zach returned from medical school, it became a common front-porch activity to speculate about who he would choose to share his life with. Since he’d served as best friend and honorary brother to all the eligible females in town from kindergarten on, it was clear we’d have to bring in someone from out-of-town to catch his attention. Someone deserving. Someone bold and sassy, beautiful and smart, kind and assertive. I half-fell in love with Harper myself when I saw her, but fate had already sealed the deal by arranging for her to meet Zach first.”
He unhooked the microphone from the dais and moved to stand behind the happy couple. “I knew the first time I saw them together that they were a perfect match. Even Harper being a Cubs fan wasn’t enough to keep them apart. I think I recognized before they did that they were in love. If anyone deserves Zach, Harper does. If anyone deserves happiness, they do.” He raised his glass and the room followed suit. “To Zach and Harper, my best friend and his new wife. Best wishes today and always. I can’t wait to see what additional wonders life has in store for the two of you.”
Glasses clinked, and cheers erupted. Wiping his forehead with a napkin, Liam collapsed in his chair. He hoped he didn’t have to make another speech anytime in the next millennium.
Zach announced the parent dances, which according to his handy-dandy schedule, would be followed by the wedding party dance, which meant Liam would be up again soon. It shouldn’t be a hardship for Liam to dance with the lovely Fiona, but all these traditional responsibilities were wearing him down.
Harper waltzed with her father and two-stepped with Wex. Zach danced with his Aunt Mae and then with his new mother-in-law. Then Liam led the maid of honor to the dance floor. He couldn’t help himself, though. His eyes sought out Jillian.
She was at a table with the mayor and other stalwarts, probably the seat her father would have been assigned. It was undeniably insane for him to be more interested in watching Jillian at a nearby table than he was in dancing with the Sports Illustrated model in his arms.
But Jillian always snared his attention, anytime they were in the same room together. Why should today be any different? But he probably didn’t have any better shot at Jillian than he had at the super model, so he may as well focus on the woman closer at hand. At least this one seemed to be gaging his potential. On the other hand, Jillian turned up her nose, slid her eyelids down, and turned the other way.
“Good job on your speech,” he told Fiona, cursing himself for the worst opening line ever. He tried to remember if he used to be better at flirting than that. Not that he was flirting now, but if he wanted to, he’d have to up his game with someone of her caliber.
“Thanks, you, too.”
“Are you enjoying your visit to Sunnyside?” Super, another lame attempt. “This is a far cry from clubbing in New York City.” He remembered from his time in the city, she far out-classed the average party girl.
“For you, too. Do you miss it?”
He snorted. “Not hardly. I liked New York at first, but turns out, we weren’t a good fit.” Too noisy, too loud, too frantic. Or maybe it was just him. He’d wanted too much, too fast. Just the memories made him sweat. “But I chose to come back here. It was forced on you.”
“No, I chose to come as a favor to my sister.”
“What did she say to make it sound enticing?”
They danced a few beats in silence until she tossed her waterfall of silky hair down her back and looked him straight in the eye. A rare occurrence for a woman to do that. She must be close to six feet tall and wearing five-inch-heels. She smelled like moonbeams, satin sheets, and sex, a combination that tweaked his interest. “She said there were a few available men in town I might find interesting.”
Which tweaked his interest further still.
Me? Did she mean m e? Surely not. He didn’t have anything interesting to offer anyone. “I’m sorry she misled you that way,” he said, which he hoped sounded more like humility than fact.
“She didn’t. She might have been lacking some information at the time, but she knows my taste.”
“Which is what?” He had no idea what someone like her would be looking for, but he doubted anything in Collier County, Illinois was it. Including him. Especially him.
“Tall, good looking.” He hooked his eyebrow at her, but she shrugged. “I admit it, I’m shallow that way, but I’m also attracted to intelligence, so it balances itself out. Since I grew up in a rock ‘n’ roll household, I admire originality, rebels, and rule-breakers with a little bit of an edge.”
He glanced around the room making note of the single men. Too young, too old. Too dull, too weird. Except for his friend nearby, dancing with Rachel. “There’s Grady, but technically, he lives in St. Louis.”
“And appears to be entangled.”
As they watched the other couple maneuvering the floor, Rachel visibly stiffened. With a glare, she raised Grady’s hand from her butt to her back. Grady laughed and pulled her closer.
“You think? That’s been on/again, off/again since high school, but I wouldn’t place any bets on it.”
“What about you and your high school sweetheart? I like Jillian, but I understand she only recently returned to town.”
“We’re over and done.” If they weren’t now, they would be after the conversation they’d have to have later tonight. His gaze moved to Jillian where she pleated her napkin and nodded in response to something Cora had said. As she looked up and met his gaze, she looked away just as quickly.
“I’m not so sure,” Fiona said wisely. “There still seems to be interest on both sides, so I’ll back off.”
“Really?” His box-step faltered. It had been awhile since a woman like this had expressed herself so plainly. In the past, he would’ve stripped her down and taken her to bed so fast they would have been a blur. He should be flattered. He should be attracted. He should be persuading her to believe that he was hotter than the sun and had the biggest dick of anyone. But he hesitated over doing any of that. Which meant he really should have his head examined. Again. “I’m playing way out of my league with you. I don’t know what you want, and I’m not confident I could give it to you.”
“For tonight, what I want could be you.” Her fingers curled around his lapels and pulled him in closer. “I’m giving you a chance to step up. But I understand the timing may not be right for you.”
He knew he didn’t have to love someone to have mind-blowing sex, but that had been when he’d been using sex like drugs and alcohol as just another crutch. Whatever the future held for him, he wouldn’t ever do that again. And for damn sure not with Zach’s sister-in-law. That could lead to all kinds of hard feelings on too many sides.
He smiled but shook his head. “Another time. Another place. If I should be so lucky.”
“Just so you’re aware of what you’re missing.” She laughed, her own confidence apparent. “This might be a once in a lifetime offer.”
“I’ll be kicking myself tomorrow for walking away tonight.” He hoped his expression looked more regretful than he felt.
She kissed him, just a peck on the lips accompanied by a pat on the cheek that conveyed a “silly boy” sentiment more than true disappointment.
Her attention moved across the room. Together, they watched Grady and Rachel end their dance with a frown and a glare. Rachel stalked to her seat at the head table, Grady marched toward the bar for a drink.
“Looks like the other contender might be available after all.” Fiona held onto Liam’s hand a moment longer and nodded in Jillian’s direction. “It’s time to make your move.”
Liam absolutely shouldn’t think about making a move on Jillian, but that’s all he’d thought about for weeks now. Ready to pretend he needed t
o talk to Mick, he arrived at their table to find Jillian’s empty.
“She’s not here,” Cora told him, as if reading his mind.
“Did she leave?”
“She went outside for a breath of air. Her purse and coat are still here. You should find her and tell her they’re about to cut the cake.”
“I don’t think she wants to hear from me about cake or anything else.”
“It was while you were dancing with that pretty girl that she took off. That dance might have had something to do with it.” Cora handed Jillian’s coat to him. “Take this to her. It’s cold outside.”
He smiled at the eccentric older woman, one of his town favorites. “This is how you get people to take cats, isn’t it? You wear them down and don’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
“That’s part of my method.” Cora smirked. “Now do as you’re told, or I’ll bring you a Persian kitten tomorrow. I’m right about this.”
He kissed her wrinkled cheek and took off. Outside, he detected a lone female form in the newly-renovated gazebo. He’d recognize that silhouette anywhere and hurried over to her, then slowed his steps when Jillian wiped tears from her eyes. She looked up and shrugged, as if unable to explain herself.
He held up her coat. “I thought you might be cold.”
“I should go back inside.”
“Whenever you’re ready. Might as well be warm until then.”
Shivering, she slipped her arms inside the sleeves and wrapped the garment around her. Then he turned her to face him, took one of her hands in his and settled his other hand near the small of her back in the standard slow-dance pose.
“What are you doing?”
“Dancing.” Mostly, he just wanted to warm her, cheer her, and hold her close, but he doubted she’d appreciate those answers. “Listen,” he said, cocking his ear toward the library. Beginning to sway, he moved his feet as music floated to them from the reception. “Hear that? They’re playing our song.”
“Which one?” With her feet immobile, she tilted her head toward the sound.