by Amanda Tru
Her eyes narrowed. Still, she looked as lovely as ten years ago. Those beautiful blue eyes, slightly upturned nose, and auburn hair reaching just below her chin… Her heart-shaped face and small stature made her look younger than her years. She didn’t change much. Except she used to wear brighter clothes and her eyes were kinder when she looked at him.
“I wouldn’t give you mouth-to-mouth. Just chest compressions.” She stepped back.
A chuckle escaped his lips against his will. “I recognize my Sierra.”
Something flashed in her eyes. Sadness? Regret? Wistfulness? “I’m not your Sierra. Not anymore. I’ll never be again. Ever.”
So he had lost her. His heart constricted. Edgar had chosen a career over staying with Sierra in their hometown. He’d done great for himself, but too many times he’d wished Sierra had been there to celebrate his successes, share painful times, and just simply… be.
She walked to the door, for some reason limping a little. “I need to close up this place.” She threw the words over her shoulder.
If that wasn’t the sign of dismissal, he didn’t know what was. He caught up with her fast. “Oh, the reason I’m here—”
She whirled around. “It’s too late to pick up where we left off. We’re done. D-O-N-E.”
This wasn’t going well was an understatement. His heart dropped. If he ever harbored hopes of getting back with Sierra, which he had, now he knew exactly where he stood. “Well, that wasn’t the reason I came to see you.”
Her palm flew to her mouth. “No?”
Judging by the way he conducted business right now, probably nobody would believe he was a successful executive. He shifted from one foot to the other under her stare. “No. My uncle is marrying your aunt.”
She grimaced, wilting against the nearest desk. “Yeah, Rios Azules is a small town. I’ll have to see you at the wedding.”
Huh. It just got worse. Did she grow to resent him that much?
“You’ll see me a lot before the wedding. My uncle asked me to be the best man.”
He winced under her scowl. She obviously didn’t approve his uncle’s choice. “Interesting. He has plenty of other nephews. Ones who actually live in Rios Azules.”
He stepped closer. He used to love the coconut scent of her shampoo, and it still made his blood rush. “I took two weeks of vacation after having none for years. My uncle wants to make his bride happy, and his bride requested I help with whatever you need.”
“What I need is for you to leave. With Aunt Willow, our relatives, and myself, we’ll take care of the wedding preparations, thank you very much,” she said through her teeth.
The Sierra he knew was much kinder than this and wouldn’t hold the grudge. Maybe he really shouldn’t have stopped calling her. Except he couldn’t hear her voice and stay away from her any longer. It had been too painful to say good-bye to her on the phone. If he’d kept talking to her, he’d have dropped everything and returned to Rios Azules.
He hadn’t made it as far as he had by surrendering at the first obstacle. “Your aunt said you might feel this way. She said to help you in everything except what you just mentioned.”
“Huh.” Sierra folded her arms on her chest. “Aunt Willow knows me well. But matchmaking is ten years too late. You’re welcome to return to Houston until the wedding, and I’ll tell the bride and bridegroom you’ve done whatever you could.”
He held her gaze. “Based on the list of her demands my uncle mentioned, you could use some help. How about we have dinner at The Café and talk about it over a lobster and chocolate ice cream?”
She’d always had a weakness for seafood and ice cream. He remembered too many things about her, like the way her lips tasted when he’d kissed her for the first time.
He gave himself a mental headshake. No thinking like that!
Those lips pursed, but her gaze softened. “You’re not going to bribe me.”
“You do want your aunt to be happy, don’t you?” He stared into eyes that once looked at him with so much love. Longing stirred inside him. He missed those times.
“That’s blackmail. Okay. One dinner. Business dinner.”
“Yes!” He did a fist pump.
“I’m going to give you a few items on my aunt’s list. I don’t think you’re going to like them.” She turned around and opened the door.
Right in his face. He barely avoided being knocked down.
He proceeded with caution. He was in excellent physical shape thanks to regular workouts.
Hopefully, this wouldn’t become a habit, or he wouldn’t make it to his uncle’s wedding.
Sierra sat in the booth breathing in familiar, comforting scents of fried shrimp and biscuits. She used to love The Café with its cozy atmosphere, colorful fish in huge aquariums, seascapes, and of course, scrumptious seafood and desserts. After Edgar left, she’d avoided it. Tonight, this place and bittersweet memories clogged her throat and made her swallow hard.
She slipped off her painful shoes under the table and handed her menu back to Nina. “Iced tea and lobster, please.”
Edgar returned his menu, as well. “The same. Thank you. Please bring extra slices of lemon.”
For a moment, her heart warmed. He remembered she liked her iced tea sour, not sweet. Sierra steeled herself against the feeling and reminded her silly heart this wasn’t a reunion, but a business dinner.
Edgar hadn’t cared enough to keep in touch. As much as she’d tried to hold on to resentment inside her, it dissipated fast, replaced with joy at seeing him again and a certain unwelcome longing.
She shouldn’t have feelings for him any longer. It was too late for that.
As soon as Nina’s low heels clicked away, Sierra leaned forward. “Let’s get to business. I’ll start with the list.”
“Hold on.” He lifted his hand. “You might not believe me, but I missed you. You have no idea how much I missed you.”
Not nearly as much as she’d missed him. The longing intensified as she looked into his blue eyes. Oh, why did he have to go that route? Or to be so devastatingly handsome? Even with a slight five-o’clock shadow, his chiseled features could easily decorate a magazine cover.
She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “We have the past, but it’s just that—the past. If you missed me, why didn’t you call for three years? Busy much?”
Emotion darkened his eyes. Maybe it was merely the effect of the dim restaurant light. “It’s not that—”
“Doesn’t matter anymore.” Her heart shifted. If she heard his reasons, she might believe him. Except she’d already made that mistake once. “Back to business. Aunt Willow wants hand-drawn invitations and French cuisine for her wedding. She’s alternating between snails and frogs.”
His eyebrows shot up. “I’ll take care of invitations. Can we talk her out of snails and frogs?”
“Working on it.” She felt a little jolt of satisfaction. Not everything could be resolved with sweeping into town and snapping his fingers. “Now, the wedding dress. It’s crucial. We have a beautiful vintage dress that is passed down through generations. It’s one of a kind.”
She suppressed a sigh. She’d once dreamed the heirloom dress would be passed to her and she’d wear it when she married Edgar. How naive.
“Great.” He leaned against the back of his booth. “So the dress issue is solved already. One item off the list.”
She wiggled her finger at him. “Not so fast.” She hesitated, trying to find words that wouldn’t be offensive to her aunt, who wasn’t quite as willowy as her name. “Aunt Willow can’t fit in that dress. She saw a wedding dress designed by London Hutchins. Ms. Hutchins has a design business out of a store in Crossroads. It’s called Snow White Bridal. Ms. Hutchins agreed to make alterations and combine the vintage family dress with the modern dress Aunt Willow liked. And, well, make it fit my aunt. Aunt Willow already sent the outfit for alterations to Ms. Hutchins.”
“Good. This way we can return to snails and frogs. Hmmm, what
’s wrong with steak and lobster?”
She nearly snorted. Everything seemed to be easy in his world. Through the grapevine, she’d heard how much he’d achieved. On the contrary, she’d placed her dreams on hold for her family and stayed in status quo for years.
Okay, envy never helped anyone. She drew a deep breath of mouthwatering scents and pulled her cell phone out of her jacket pocket. “I should check on the dress while we’re waiting.” Better to be useful than to get lost in his blue eyes again.
She called the store.
“Rhonda Snow speaking.” The older female voice didn’t sound like the young, perky designer Sierra talked to when she’d called about alterations.
“May I speak to London Hutchins, please?”
“I’m sorry, but she’s not available. I’m the store owner. Could I help you with something?” The voice became sweeter.
“Um, sure. We sent a dress for alterations. It’s a vintage dress of a cream shade, embroidered with silk flowers and pearls. It’s made from silk and lace and has long sleeves and a floor-length skirt. I wanted to follow up on when it’s going to be ready.” Sierra gave the name and address.
The click-clack of low heels and delicious scents announced the arrival of food.
“Thank you,” she mouthed to Nina.
“Let me check.” After a pause, Ms. Snow came back on the line. “I’m sorry, but I believe that dress was sold.”
“What?!” Sierra squeaked. No. No. No. It couldn’t be. Could. Not. Be. “It’s a family heirloom we’ve passed through generations.”
“I’m so…”
Blood rushed through her head, its oceanic whoosh drowning out the woman’s words. Focus. Just focus until something made sense.
“…then I guess it was put on display by mistake, and one of the brides loved it so much she bought it. My sincerest apologies.” Ms. Rhonda Snow’s voice dipped. “I’m happy to offer you any dress in the store as a compensation, as well as shoes and accessories.”
Sierra’s phone slipped from her hands and landed between the lobster, grilled vegetables, and lemon wedges. Her hand shaking, she fumbled to pick up the even slipperier phone.
“What happened?” Edgar handed her napkins.
She wiped the surface of spicy herbed butter now oozing over it. At least, she didn’t drop her cell phone into her iced tea. “Aunt’s dress was sold by mistake.”
“Let me talk to them.” He extended his hand.
She shook her head. This had nothing to do with him. It wasn’t like she’d ever wear that dress and walk down the aisle to him. No way could he even understand what it meant—to Aunt Willow or her. That wedding dress wasn’t just a part of a family tradition. It was a symbol of love and happiness. Now the dress disappeared. Just like her dream to ever marry Edgar. How fitting.
Poor Aunt Willow, who was often distressed over much smaller issues!
Tears burned behind Sierra’s eyes, but she kept them at bay. She did her best to still tremor in her hands.
There had to be something she could do. There had to be!
“Ms. Snow, are you still there?” She tightened her fingers around the phone. “Can you give me the bride’s name and the address, please?”
There was a pause. “I’m sorry, but it’s confidential. Besides, I can’t provide it by phone. Please understand me. I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to share your aunt’s information with anybody, either. Once again, my apologies. We do have a great selection of dresses.”
“Thank you for your help.” What a ridiculous thing to say. What else was there to say or do? The dress was gone.
Her heart heavy, Sierra disconnected and stared at her food, her appetite gone. The lump in her throat grew. “Aunt Willow will be devastated,” she told the lobster.
No need to tell anyone how she felt. Didn’t matter anyway.
“Let me think.” Edgar sounded as confident as always. “What if we go to the bridal shop and talk to the owner in person? Maybe I can persuade her to help us in our predicament and give us the address. Selling the dress was gross negligence on their part, so I’m sure they’ll assist in any way possible. Then we approach the bride and talk her into giving up the dress in favor of a different one.”
Hope warred with her irritation. “Not everything as easy as you think it is. It’s two days’ drive from Rios Azules to Crossroads. Besides, Ms. Snow might not give us the bride’s address, anyway.”
His eyes hardened. “I’m just trying to help.”
Ouch. She winced at a sting of guilt. When had she started getting so defensive? Probably around the time he’d broken her heart.
She said grace, adding a prayer for Aunt Willow.
Then she took a sip of her cold drink. “I appreciate it.” She poked into her grilled squash and zucchini. “Maybe I’m wrong, and Auntie isn’t too set on this particular dress.”
“I hope so.” He studied her over the tip of his glass while sipping his tea, his eyes unreadable.
She used to be able to read him easily…. Her heart shifted.
Back to pressing matters. Sierra snatched her phone again and called her aunt. After Sierra summarized the situation, a pause stretched on the line.
“Not going well?” Edgar mouthed while devouring his lobster.
Something fell on the other side of the line. She gasped. “I hope I’m wrong, but Aunt Willow might’ve fainted.”
He didn’t even blink. “I think it’s safe to say she’s set on that dress.”
“I can’t believe this is happening. How could they make that mistake?” When Auntie came back, tears whimpered in her voice. She sniffled. “I can’t imagine getting married in anything else.”
Compassion tightened around Sierra’s rib cage while her fingers did the same around the cold glass she lifted. “Ms. Snow said she had a great selection at her shop. We can find another beautiful dress.”
She hoped.
“That was one of a kind!” Aunt Willow’s voice rose as if she couldn’t believe her favorite niece would even suggest such a thing. “I’m not feeling too good. What if it’s a sign I shouldn’t get married, especially at my age? Maybe I should call the wedding off.”
“What?” Sierra plunked the glass back on the table.
She loved her aunt too much to let her make such a mistake. It wouldn’t be easy to find another man who’d be willing to take care of her aunt for the rest of her life. Aunt Willow was a sweetheart, but she could be rather needy and a tad demanding. Ask Sierra how she knew.
Her mind whirled. “No. You deserve to be happy with the man you love. I–I…” Left with no choice, she took a deep breath. “Edgar and I will drive to Crossroads and track down the bride.”
“That’s so nice of you.” Aunt Willow’s voice became as saccharine as Sierra’s favorite chocolate ice cream. “I always liked that sweet boy. Tell him thank you for me.”
“I… will.” Sierra squeaked. “How are you feeling now?”
“Much better.” Aunt’s voice did perk up considerably before she disconnected.
“I hope you’re a good road trip companion.” Edgar had the audacity to wink at her.
Uh-oh.
What did she get herself into? Sierra peered at the man she’d tried to hate for years and resisted the urge to hit her head against the nearest wall.
“Aunt Willow says thank you to the sweet boy.” She nudged the plate closer. He’d already finished his lobster while hers was still staring at her.
“Sweet boy, huh? That’s something I haven’t been called in years.” A grin curled his lips.
Yeah, and she hadn’t called him her love in years, either. She twisted off the claws and removed the meat from the thumb. As she tried the food, her palate welcomed the taste. Then she grabbed the lobster cracker and pressed on the large part of the claw.
Thwack!
A piece of the claw somehow escaped and flew in Edgar’s direction.
Oh no!
She gasped.
Thankfully,
he had a quick reaction and ducked before the lobster landed on him.
“Oops.” She sent him an apologetic glance.
He rubbed his forehead. “No harm done. Especially compared with a near miss of the paperweight on my head. But if I didn’t know you well, I’d be considering a helmet for the road trip.”
Her eyes widened. “Are we going on the motorcycle?” Then it dawned on her. “Oh. Okay. I see. This lobster hit was purely by accident.” She managed to get the meat out of the other claw without sending any debris in Edgar’s direction.
When she separated the tail from the lobster’s body, he pushed his chair away just a tad.
She savored the yummy meat as she fished it out with the lobster fork. “Maybe it’s not a good time to tell you I’m not the world’s best driver.”
To her surprise, he smiled. “I remember that part. But you’re smart, fun to be with, pretty, and usually, don’t endanger other people. I look forward to spending a lot of time with you again.”
Warming up inside, she drank her tea. Edgar still considered her all those things. Just not enough to stay with her, apparently.
Lord, please help me. My aunt needs that dress, but I can’t survive having my heart broken again.
The next morning, Edgar pulled up to the small, buttermilk-colored stucco cottage. Beds of pink roses, a welcome doormat with a smiley face, and the bright color of the house suited so well the cheerful girl he’d once fallen for.
His first love… his only one so far.
He parked his sports car. He’d thought he’d forget Sierra eventually. He’d needed to prove to his father he could make it in a big city. He’d needed to help his younger brother pay for his education.
After turning off the engine, Edgar dashed to the porch. Those reasons had seemed important enough to pursue his career, and they still were, though his father barely spoke to him now. Not a day had passed without Edgar thinking about Sierra.
If he still prayed on a regular basis like in childhood, he’d ask God if He meant this trip as a second chance with Sierra. Ever since his father’s unfair treatment, praying had become difficult. Besides, Edgar had been so busy since moving to Houston that praying and going to church somehow had been pushed to the side for when he’d have more time. That time hadn’t come yet.