Back To Us (Shore Secrets 3)
Page 8
“Sorry you had to do the cranes all by yourself. There is a bright side to it, though.” Piper joined her at the coffee bar. Friends didn’t let friends drink alone. That went for everything from margaritas to blueberry coffee. So she filled her favorite green stoneware mug to the rim.
“No. No, there’s not. Because once I finished with the cranes, I had to go back and place the favors. And the place cards. And tie the stupidly pretty brown organza bows around each chair.”
Poor Ella. She’d put in a full day of being on her feet, giving massages at the spa and then had to pitch in to cover a three-person decorating job. Piper crossed to the covered cake plate mounded with donuts at the end of the counter to pick out her friend’s favorites.
“The bright side is that, however lousy your night may have been, at least you didn’t eat the toxic clam pizza for lunch like your entire event staff. Paper cuts are nothing to whine about compared to spending a whole night clamped around a toilet.”
“Don’t try to cheer me up.” Ella toed out a stool and collapsed onto it. She hung her head over her steaming mug as if merely inhaling the caffeine would work miracles. “I deserve to whine. What’s the point of owning a hotel if you can’t order minions around to do all the dirty work?”
Casey tackle-hugged her from behind in lieu of saying hello. “Wow. You really are cranky. You only bring up minions when things are sucktastic.”
“I had one of the bellboys deliver crackers, soup and ginger ale to all of them at their homes. I’m not heartless. I’m just worn out.”
Piper plucked another plate from beneath the counter, knowing Casey would already be eying the pastry pile too. Great. Ella Mayhew was one of the sweetest-tempered women on the planet. She rocked a seriously bad mood about as rarely as a solar eclipse. Why did it have to be today, when Piper needed her so badly?
“You don’t know from worn out until you’ve had not one, not two, but three teenaged boys wake you up in the middle of the night because they’re scared a bear will attack them on the way to the bathroom. And by bathroom, I mean the tree a measly fifty yards away from the campfire.”
Ella swiveled around and sniffed at Casey’s shirt. “Is that what that smell is? Campfire smoke?”
“I am not even going to think about what you could be smelling on my shirt.” Casey shuddered and stepped back. “Teenaged boys are disgusting. And they talk a mighty good game in the parking lot, but get them deep in the woods on an eight-mile hike and they turn into a bunch of scaredy-cats. I’m going to stand in the shower until I run out of hot water. But first, coffee. Breakfast. Ooh, and I want to talk about something girly to whitewash my mind from boy stuff.”
Perfect. Piper pounced at the opportunity. “I need dating advice. Is that girly enough for you?”
“Technically, it involves boys, but I’ll let it slide. Especially since you almost never ask for our advice.”
Ella slurped from her mug. “More to the point, she never takes it.”
“I always listen to what you have to say. I fold in your arguments as carefully as folding egg whites into meringue batter. My opinion just carries more weight.”
“So we’re the light-as-air meringues, and you’re the heavy-as-lead cake disaster? You’re what...fruitcake?”
Not exactly where she was going with the analogy. “I really need your help this time.”
“This sounds serious.” Ella straightened up.
“It can’t be. Piper’s never serious about guys. Or never takes them seriously. Remember the one she dumped after only three dates because of his name?” Casey slid onto a stool and broke off a piece of the apple fritter on her plate.
Clearly, she’d have to run through the gauntlet of their teasing before she could get to the point. Piper went back to finish adding skim milk and a heavy sprinkle of cinnamon to her coffee. “His name made me giggle. I couldn’t say Elton without snickering, at the very least. How was I supposed to have sex or contemplate a future with a man when I couldn’t even say his name?”
Casey planted her tongue in her cheek. Or maybe it was the apple fritter. “I don’t know—maybe give it more than three dates? Practice makes perfect.”
“Life’s too short to waste on the wrong man.” That was always Piper’s answer. Especially because she was so sure she’d already found the right man, and lost him. She knew what it felt like to have her heartbeat race every time the right man walked in the room. She knew because it happened every darn time Ward Cantrell came near her.
Not wanting to want him didn’t make it go away. It didn’t change her bone-deep conviction that his dry humor, deep laugh and willingness to take chances made him opposite of her enough to be interesting, while still sharing a lot of the same viewpoints. Ward was the right man for her. The only thing he lacked was her trust, and Piper wasn’t at all sure she’d ever be able to give that back to him.
Ella snorted. “Is that what you told yourself when you refused to go out again with the one who got mad when you stole his dessert on the very first date?”
“I only nabbed one bite of his dessert, and it showed his true colors. If he’s willing to be so selfish on a first date, imagine what he’s like once you’re settled into a relationship?” Probably hogged all the covers. Ate all the points off pizza slices. Would make her pack her own tube of toothpaste on a road trip, instead of sharing to conserve precious suitcase space. All of those things would be intolerable.
“Well, if you’ve found someone you actually want to date and haven’t dismissed for some trumped-up reason, why do you need us to weigh in at all?”
“Yeah.” Casey grabbed another donut and brandished it in the air. “If he doesn’t have a criminal record and is employed and you haven’t found a reason to run him off yet? There’s no way we’d try to talk you out of dating him. Who is this paragon of male perfection?”
Piper almost did a spit take. And a giant coffee stain wouldn’t exactly blend in on her sage-green sheath dress. “He’s not perfect. He’s anything but perfect much of the time.”
“I like the sound of that.” Casey waggled her eyebrows. “So you’ve got the hots for a bad boy?”
Oh, yes. The ultimate bad boy. The town’s baddest boy, depending on who you asked. “Well, yes.”
“Go for it. Everyone should indulge in the fun of a bad boy as many times as possible before settling down.”
Ella’s green eyes turned dreamy. “I remember mine. Marco D’Onofrio, junior year of college. He was soooo hot. I thought he was off-the-charts bad because he went commando. Of course, later on I discovered he just never remembered to do laundry. That’s why you fling with bad boys, instead of committing to them.”
Flipping her hands at Piper, Casey ordered, “Go. Fling.”
Exasperated laughter spilled from Piper. “Will you let me get a word in edgewise? This isn’t a fling. I’m not entirely sure what it will be, but I’m positive it won’t be a fling. If I agree to his terms. If I do it at all.”
“You’re babbling,” Ella noted. “You almost never babble. That’s my territory you’re invading. Who’s got you so tied up in knots?” They both stared at her with wide, expectant eyes.
Now that she had the silence to fill, Piper hesitated to fill them in the rest of the way. Right now it was a secret. A choice to make. Once she told Ella and Casey, it took on a life of its own. And she could admit to herself that she was scared. Scared to do it. Scared not to do it. Scared of every possibility. Scared enough to grab for a calorie-laden double chocolate glazed and stuff a quarter of it in her mouth.
“Ward Cantrell,” Piper mumbled.
Casey made a tsking noise. “Ugh. Did you talk to Ward about this first? Did he get all in your head?”
“You should’ve come straight to us,” Ella piled on. “Ward isn’t exactly, um, objective when it comes to your dating life.”
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Their sweet support was making this ten times more difficult. “I didn’t ask Ward for advice. Ward is the one who asked me out.”
Casey slapped her hands on the counter and sprang to her feet. “No!”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“It’s wonderful,” Ella squealed.
Almost simultaneously, Casey grinned and said, “It’s about time.”
Not at all what Piper expected to hear from them. Quite the opposite, in fact. “Whoa. Just slow down. Why are you both jumping on the Ward bandwagon?”
Casey looked surprised by her line of questioning. “He’s our best friend too. We love him to bits. Why shouldn’t we want our two best friends to end up together?”
“Don’t forget how he looks. All those muscles and those intense eyes.” Ella let out what was probably supposed to be a purr, but sounded more like a hairball stuck in her throat. “Ward is one hundred percent yummy. You couldn’t do better.”
Why did nobody seem to remember her abject misery and two years of utter heartbreak caused by Ward? No matter how selfish, Piper wanted one of her friends to be just as shocked, just as outraged as she was that he’d dared to even ask such a thing. To set aside completely—for a minute—their friendship with Ward and just be her friends. “You haven’t even heard all the details.”
“Sorry.” Casey got up and filled a mug covered with chalkboard paint. Then, as usual, she sketched on a lopsided pine tree. “But this isn’t a proposal story. We don’t have to know what you were wearing and where he was standing. He asked you out. You, as usual, are thinking it to death first instead of just saying yes. What more do we need to know?”
Piper balled her hands on her hips. Challenge accepted. “How about that this isn’t a fling, and it isn’t just a date, either? Ward wants me to promise to date him for one month. At the end of it, he’ll let me lease some of his acreage to start my port line.”
“He’s sneaky.” Ella’s tone was as full of admiration as though Ward had presented Piper with a pair of Louboutin heels. Which, truth be told, probably would’ve gotten her to a yes much faster. Bribery was a classic because it worked.
“He’s cagey. Wily.” Casey stabbed her arm into the air. “I’m going to start calling him Wile E. Coyote Cantrell.”
With a shake of her head that sent her brown hair tumbling over her shoulders, Ella corrected her. “He’s brilliant.”
Oh, for God’s sake! “He’s certifiably crazy,” Piper huffed out. “You can’t force someone to fall in love with you just by spending time with them. If that was all it took, I’d have to switch teams and marry the girl who does my manicures every week.”
Ella reached forward to grab Piper’s hands. “He wants you to fall in love again. This is just wonderful.”
“Ever since you got engaged, you see the world through matrimony-fogged glasses.” Piper jerked free to spread her hands wide. “This is a big deal. There are two huge problems with dating Ward.”
They looked back and forth at each other. Finally Casey shrugged as she sat back down. “Nope. I’ve got nothing.”
Seriously? How long did it take for coffee to kick-start neurons, anyway? “He broke my heart. He shredded it into the saddest pink confetti ever.”
Casey looked down at her donut covered in bubble-gum pink frosting and hot pink sprinkles, then dropped it back to the plate. “That’s disgusting.”
“Sorry. But...Ward cheated on me. He abused the trust I’d placed in him to go through with a long-distance relationship. How do I know I can trust him again? How do I know he won’t break my heart again?” There. She’d said it. Put her second-biggest fear about this potential relationship reboot right out on the table for everyone to dissect.
Casey flipped her hands, palms up, and shrugged. “You don’t.”
“And you suck at motivational speeches.”
“I’m serious. There’s no guarantee the next random stranger you decide to date won’t cheat on you. There’s no guarantee Ward won’t monumentally screw up with you again. Life doesn’t come with guarantees.”
Sure it did. The bad guarantees were just easier to count on than the good. “Here’s one: I guarantee that if he breaks my heart again, I won’t survive.”
“Yes, you will,” Ella said with a sad smile. “That’s the trouble with a broken heart—there’s no escaping it except for time.”
Guilt swamped Piper, choking whatever retort she’d been ready to lob back. Because Ella had spent three long years trying to get over the sudden death of her parents. That was real heartbreak. The kind some people didn’t ever get over. Suddenly her complaints about Ward seemed trivial. Because he was trying, really trying, to do something good here. To set right a wrong. Was she willing to let her fear block her from potential wonderfulness?
After an awkward silence so tangible it practically had its own heartbeat, Casey tapped her finger against the smooth wood of the counter. “We’ve jumped ahead. Let’s go back to the bigger issue. Ward can’t break your heart unless you give it to him first.”
Piper didn’t say anything.
“Okay, I’ll go ahead and mention the elephant in the room. You might not want us to remember, but a couple of months ago you admitted that you still love him.”
Casey always forgot to take her voter registration card with her on Election Day. She forgot which months only had thirty days. So why did she have to remember the one conversation Piper would’ve paid good money to make her forget? Channeling her mother’s trademark icy tone, Piper tried to cut her off. “I also said we’d never discuss that confession.”
“You reopened the discussion when you asked our advice about dating him. Knowing that you already/still love the guy is a huge part of making this decision.”
Even though her heels got stuck—with every step—in the holes of the thick rubber mat behind the counter, Piper paced. Kind of a limping pace, but it helped burn off a thin layer of her frustration. “So what if I do love him? I mean, I think I do. He thinks he does. But it could be that we’re caught up in the memory of something that can’t be re-created. First love, high school sweethearts—that’s heady stuff. What could possibly compare?”
Ella clutched at the lapels of her white top. “True love, the deep kind that only adults who have themselves all figured out can share with an equal partner.”
“Are you still going to be this lovesick after the wedding?”
“Count on it.”
Casey cleared her throat. “Rewind, please. You skimmed right over some good stuff. Ward still loves you?”
The thought of it sent little crackles of electricity outward from Piper’s heart. Because she’d never, until Ward’s astounding proposal, considered for a second that he still harbored romantic feelings for her. It was a salve to her ego. It was music to her ears. It was hope, come to life. Wishful thinking in the flesh.
But why wait? If he felt that way, why let so much time pass without giving her the slightest clue? It didn’t feel like a ploy. Yes, it felt too good to be true, but Piper couldn’t figure out any reason for Ward to be playing her in this fashion. So she downplayed her response by turning away to grab juice from the fridge.
“He may have made some such allusion. Still wants me, at any rate. Claimed it’s the reason behind this ridiculous, month-long dating pact.”
Casey sighed. “Awwwww. So sweet. I mean, I know Ward can be thoughtful, but it’s usually the understated, no-words-required sort of thoughtful. This is adorable.”
“Don’t you dare say that to his face,” Ella gurgled in laughter. “He’d never forgive you.”
She set down three glasses and poured them all a dose of vitamin C. “Here’s the other issue: I don’t want to mess up our friendship. The three years I wasn’t speaking to him was hard on all four of us. It disrupted our balance.”
“S
o don’t screw it up.” Casey pinched her, hard, on the forearm.
“Ow! What’s that for?”
“Negative reinforcement. Kind of the opposite of Pavlov’s dogs. Zane was telling me about it last night. He’s going to use it with his students when it comes to complaining about homework by giving them pop quizzes. Now, every time you think about doing something that might ruin this redo, I want you to remember that pinch.”
“A harbinger of the emotional pain to come, if you will. Oh, that’s good.” Ella high-fived Casey.
Again, this whole conversation was going off the rails. “You want me to what—love him, fall into bed with him, live happily ever after—for the sake of our friendship?”
“That about sums it up.” Another attempt at a high five by Ella, but Casey pulled back at the last second.
“Hang on.” Casey sucked in a deep breath, and then blew it out slowly, as if through a straw. “I hadn’t thought about those three years in a long time. Sure, we were all off at college for most of it, but it was hard. It flat-out sucked. Not having the four of us on the same wavelength was like having an arm cut off.”
Ella splayed her hand and wiggled all her fingers. “And like a starfish, it grew back. We’re the starfish.”
Casey folded her hand over Ella’s and pushed it back down to her lap. “I don’t know. Maybe Piper’s right to be so concerned. Why disrupt the status quo?”
“Why do anything ever? Because the reward outweighs the risk.”
“Does it?” Piper almost chewed on her lip, but remembered in the nick of time not to smear her lipstick. “It isn’t exactly common for high school romances to survive adulthood. Even though we want it to work, the odds are probably fifty-fifty that it won’t. That once the passion burns off and the lust burns out, there won’t be enough left for a relationship. Then what?”
There was silence. Almost silence, disturbed only by the clinking of Mitzi’s collar when she suddenly scrambled across the floor.