Somebody Like You: A Darling, VT Novel
Page 3
Laurel sank to the ground and crossed her legs, rounding her shoulders and exhaling. “You’re right. It does feel better.”
“If you’re that tense we could run through a meditation.”
Laurel laughed. “I think I’m fine, Wil. Thanks, though. It’s been a hell of a day.”
Willow reached into her tote bag. “I figured as much so I brought this.” She pulled out a bottle of wine and a couple of little glasses. “Sulfite free and organic.”
It had a twist top so there was no need for a corkscrew. Willow opened the bottle, let it breathe for a moment, and then poured a healthy amount into each glass. The red liquid looked purply-black in the fading light, and the pungent scent was sharp and fruity. Laurel took a sip and sighed happily.
“See?” Willow laughed lightly. “Cheers.”
“We’re toasting? My business was vandalized and robbed.” Laurel rolled her eyes. “Maybe we can toast to this day being over.”
“Or we can toast the fact that you’re okay and everything else can be replaced,” Willow said. “Or that a day that started so badly is ending with a glass of wine with a friend.”
Laurel’s heart warmed. “I’ll drink to that. Thanks, Willow.”
“You’re welcome. Now, fill me in. Any idea who trashed the place?”
Laurel took a longer drink and then shook her head. “No, not yet. The police think it’s probably kids. I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse. I’m just … frustrated. I just got the place set up and open, you know?” She’d sunk her savings into buying the business, and taken out a healthy loan, too. She tried not to let that fact scare her, but it was a heavy responsibility just the same. “They seem to think it’s just random. Not anything personal against me. But it feels personal. I’m trying to be analytical, but dammit, it hurts. It feels like kicking me when I’m down.”
Willow nodded. “I can understand that. Look, Darling tends to be quiet, but it’s different than when we were teenagers, Laurel. A bit bigger. And kids … I don’t know. They seem to have too much time on their hands.” She turned her glass around in her fingers. “I see a bunch after school, though the ones who’re loud and obnoxious don’t tend to be the herbal-tea-and-organic-cookie type, you know?”
Laurel laughed. “We were ever like that?”
“Of course not.”
And then they both laughed softly. Willow had been top of her class in English and History. She’d served on every charity committee going and played in the school band. Laurel had always pegged her as a bit high strung, but not so much now. Both of them had been certain they knew everything and had the world by the tail.
Now Willow practically exuded calm and wisdom. And Laurel … well. She’d done everything on schedule. Gone away to school, got her degree, got a job, got married. The perfect life that saw her divorced at twenty-seven and with a mountain of debt. It was fairly humbling. Lessons had been hard to learn, but she’d come away stronger.
“You’ve owned The Purple Pig for what, a year now?” Laurel asked. “And here I am trying to make a go of a garden center. This isn’t how we envisioned our lives, is it?” She looked over at her friend. “Not quite a decade since we graduated and look at us. Single and struggling as small business owners, working sixty-plus hours a week.”
A shadow passed over Willow’s face. “We didn’t have life by the tail like we thought, did we?”
“Not quite. Know what, though? I don’t think I’d change it.” Laurel knew her life hadn’t been perfect, but it had been good just the same.
They drank quietly for a minute or two. Laurel kept waiting for Willow to ask about Dan. She’d told Willow the basic truth the first night they’d hung out since her return. That Dan had come out and was in love with one of the partners of the accounting firm.
“You know Aiden’s a cop in town now, right? You’ll probably run into him now and again.”
Just the mention of his name sent a flare of heat down Laurel’s body. She wished she could credit her reaction to the wine, but she couldn’t. Neither could she stop the strange feeling of anger that sparked whenever she heard his name.
“What brought him up?” She kept her voice casual.
“Just thinking about high school.” Willow’s laugh floated on the evening breeze. “Gosh, did you ever get him good. I think of that every time I see someone with a milkshake.”
Laurel gave the obligatory chuckle, but truth was, she had fancied herself in love with him after nearly two years of friendship. His careless actions had given her hope and made her stupid teenage heart expand like it was giving off those little heart-shaped bubbles in cartoon pictures. And then reality had crashed down on her. He’d made her mad, he’d humiliated her, but he’d also hurt her deeply. Aiden Gallagher had caused her first broken heart.
“Actually, Aiden was on duty this morning.”
Willow sat up straighter. “Why wasn’t that the first thing you told me instead of waiting until now?” She put her hand on Laurel’s arm. “What happened? Did he apologize? He’s cute, isn’t he? I think he’s even better looking than he used to be.”
“Then you should date him,” Laurel replied caustically. “I’m definitely not interested.”
“I repeat, what happened?” Willow grabbed the wine bottle and refilled their glasses. The evening was getting cooler as the sun went down. Laurel hugged her knees closer and studied her glass.
“Nothing. He took the details from me and went back to work.”
“Oh.” Willow sounded disappointed. “You’re sure that’s all?”
“I’m sure.”
“Boring. No sparks? No laughing over days gone by?”
This time Laurel laughed. “God, no. I think we’re still in the stay-out-of-each-other’s-way place.”
“He’s still pretty sexy, though, isn’t he?” Willow wiggled her eyebrows, and Laurel laughed.
“Okay, fine. He’s sexy as sin, is that what you wanted to hear?”
“I know. All that muscle and stuff packed into the uniform and his eyes … he’s got bedroom eyes. They’re so blue. And he’s a ginger.”
“Gingers don’t have souls,” Laurel stated, giggling a little. The wine was getting to her.
“Oh, even you don’t think that’s true. You have a thing for redheads. Dan was one too, wasn’t he?”
The easy question slammed into her. Did she have a thing for gingers? Wasn’t that embarrassing! “Dan’s is more strawberry blond.”
“Right.” Willow laughed. “Of course it is. Anyway, I just wondered if he’d said anything. He’s single, you know.”
“You won’t step on my toes if you’re interested,” Laurel replied, though the idea of Willow with Aiden didn’t seem to fit. Willow was too sweet, for one.
“I’m not. I’m happy just going on as I am right now.” Willow smiled and held her glass out as she pushed herself to her feet. “Much as I love being connected to the earth and all, the ground’s feeling cold and damp. Mind if we go inside? We can polish this off, complain about how becoming a grown-up hasn’t lived up to our expectations, and then go into work a little extra tired tomorrow.”
“Sure. I’ve got some chips in the house I think.”
“Eew.”
Right. Willow didn’t let junk food pass her lips. “Crackers and hummus?”
“Getting better.”
When Willow reached for her bag, Laurel saw a little tattoo on her wrist. But before she could ask about it, the back gate opened again. “Hello?”
Willow tapped her shoulder. “Laurel. Speak of the devil.”
He was sex on a stick in his uniform, but in board shorts and a T-shirt he was equally devastating. His burnished hair was tousled and he had the beginnings of a stubbly beard. The relaxed pose set her pulse racing. She really wished it wouldn’t do that. Aiden was not the sort of guy she needed.
“I’ll take a rain check,” Willow said, low enough that only Laurel could hear. “Though I’ll want details.”
“You can give it back to me later. Keep it. You might need the wine.” Willow winked at her, which only annoyed Laurel more. She was not interested. Full stop.
“Hey, Aiden,” Willow offered on her way through the gate. “Nice evening, isn’t it?”
“Sure is.”
Willow waved her fingers as she passed through, the only farewell Laurel received. Pasting on a polite smile, Laurel turned her attention to Aiden. “Can I do something for you?”
“Well, now, that’s a loaded question.” He smiled, a little dimple popping in his cheek. Laurel resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He was so obvious.
He stepped inside her backyard. “I was out at Mom and Dad’s for dinner. The garden center came up in conversation, and I decided to stop by on my way home. See how you made out today.”
Laurel wasn’t sure if she should be perturbed or touched. His consideration was sort of nice, but it also seemed a bit presumptuous. “And you just happened to know my address?”
For a flash, he looked uncomfortable. Then he smiled again. “Okay, so you caught me. I had to look it up.”
“Great police work,” she said, lifting her glass to take a drink of wine.
He shrugged. “I 411’d it on my phone. No big deal.” He met her gaze. “If you want me to go, I’ll go.”
She did and she didn’t. Yes, because seeing him was plain weird and made her feel like an awkward teenager again. But no, because it really was kind of nice of him to look in on her. They weren’t kids anymore. Maybe they could get along. As adults. Just because she was back in Darling didn’t mean they couldn’t leave the past where it belonged. She should be over it by now.
“It’s okay. You want some wine?” She held out the bottle, then realized she didn’t have another clean glass.
His grin widened. “You’re sharing?”
She tipped the bottle and splashed a little more into her glass. What the hell. It had been a crazy, stupid, seesaw of a day. Then she held out the bottle again and gave it a wiggle with her hand, as if to say, “Take it.”
He did. And then he lifted it and took a drink straight from the bottle.
“Classy,” she remarked.
“It’s not like you offered me your fine crystal,” he replied. He looped his fingers around the top of the bottle and took a step closer, so they were only a foot or so apart. “I usually tell people it’s not good to bring work home with them. In your case I’d make an exception. This is quite the yard.”
She looked around. The tiller was still out, half the garden soil was distributed, nothing was planted. A small greenhouse sat in the south corner, where she’d started tomatoes, peppers, lettuces. It was too early to have many of her annuals out, though her perennial beds were coming along. Another six weeks and things would look very different.
“I bought this place because it came with three-quarters of an acre. Enough for me to have a vegetable garden in the back and flowers in the front.”
“So the garden center is a labor of love for you.”
He walked along the perimeter of her tilled earth, taking his time, pausing to sip from the bottle again. Laurel didn’t want to notice the way his jeans fit his ass, but she couldn’t help it. It was hard to ignore a man so nicely proportioned, after all.
“It really is. I had a smaller garden where I lived before. It was nice, but I felt a little cramped there.”
“In Burlington, right?”
“Just outside. We commuted in.”
We. She hadn’t meant to bring up Dan. It was just easier if people didn’t ask a lot of questions.
He turned and faced her. “We being you and your ex, right?”
She nodded, felt her face heat. Please don’t ask.
“And you bought the center and moved back home. A fresh start?”
“You could say that.”
He smiled then. “Are you glad to be home, Laurel? Or does it feel like a consolation prize?”
His question hit her square in the chest, stopping her breath for a split second. How very insightful of him to ask. Was it a consolation prize? She didn’t want to think so. It was more complicated than that. And she wasn’t unhappy. Not really. It was all in how she chose to view it. She could feel sorry for herself or she could see this as an opportunity for a new start, to reinvent herself and be even stronger.
She’d married Dan right after graduation and had joined him at the firm directly after. It hadn’t been a mistake, exactly, but she’d be lying if she didn’t admit she enjoyed her new freedom and autonomy.
“My marriage didn’t work out,” she said quietly. “So my life’s switched course. I get to choose that course, Aiden. There’s no consolation prize in that.” And maybe someday she’d absolutely believe it.
Quiet settled over the yard. The sun was down now and most of the birds had quieted, though the odd mourning dove could still be heard cooing somewhere close by. Laurel shivered a little. The air had cooled and now that she wasn’t shoveling dirt, there was a bit of a chill that settled on her skin. Still, she didn’t want to invite Aiden inside. That would be a “friendly” move, and she was aiming more for civility.
“And what about what happened this morning?” he finally asked, holding out the bottle and adding a little more to her glass before taking another swig. “Is everything okay at the Ladybug?”
She laughed. “It sounds funny when you call it that.” Funnier than it should, and she giggled again. Damn. She should have sent that wine with Willow …
He chuckled in reply, the sound low and alluring in the twilight.
“Everything is fine,” she answered finally, letting out a sigh. “My mom and dad stopped in this morning and helped me clean up the mess. I’ve been in touch with the insurance company and reordered stock and bought new locks for the gate. And a new, heavier-duty safe, you’ll be glad to know.”
“Good.”
“With a lot of the stock within the fence but outside the building, a security system didn’t seem overly practical. But starting tonight we’re going to have it better lit. Maybe it’ll be a deterrent.” She finished what was in her glass. “I guess I idealized what it would be like coming home. That Darling was perfect. Idyllic.” There was that word again. Maybe part of the problem was that she set her expectations just a little too high.
He didn’t reply so she offered a little smile. “Reality strikes again, huh.”
He shrugged. “It’s still a good place to live. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to work in a place where I really made a difference, you know? It’s pretty low key around here.”
They’d ambled back toward the gate. How had that happened? Laurel realized they were nearly shoulder to shoulder and actually having a conversation. Today really was turning out to be the strangest day.
“You’d rather be a cop somewhere bigger? More dangerous?”
He shrugged. “It’s not the danger, or even the excitement. But more a sense that … maybe there’s a greater need somewhere else.”
She looked over at him. In high school he’d been a bit of a joker. He’d played ball in the summer, hockey in the winter, and was part of the ski club. His GPA had been okay—he’d worked at his schoolwork just enough to pull off respectable marks. He’d had a much more active social life, Laurel remembered, and had always been invited to parties. She’d been quiet, studious, and as friends they’d been a bit mismatched.
Her memories didn’t quite mesh with the man standing in front of her now: a civic-minded public servant.
“Laurel?”
She stopped and looked up at him. Even in the dark, she could see the earnestness in his eyes. He’d always been attractive in a roguish, atypical sort of way. Not the tall, dark, and handsome type, and not the All-American blond and blue-eyed preppy kind of guy. More of a rough-and-ready scrapper with an imp
ish smile and a gleam in his eye. The gleam was missing now, and the smile replaced with a sober expression, which only served to highlight the crisp outline of his lips. Laurel swallowed. This had been the problem all along, hadn’t it? From the time she was fifteen, she’d had a “thing” for Aiden. Maybe she didn’t have it any longer, but memories were powerful things. Sometimes the body remembered what the heart would rather forget.
“About what happened in senior year … I’m sorry about that.”
Holy shit. An apology at long last. It didn’t make her feel better, though. She knew it should and it didn’t.
“I should never have gone with you,” she admitted. “I was gullible.”
“No. You trusted a friend.” He put the empty bottle down on the grass and reached for her arm. His fingers tightened around her forearm and a little swoop of something skittered through her stomach at the touch. “It wasn’t you. I did want to be with you. It wasn’t because of the bet. It’s just that…” He looked away and heaved a sigh. “Okay, look. I know I had a reputation when I was in school. The truth was, I liked you and never asked you out because I was afraid you’d say no. Until the guys made me a bet. It was stupid, I know. But it was the only way I was able to get the guts up to ask. It seemed … I don’t know, easier, when it was about a team bet and not about real feelings.”
He’d really cared about her? She clenched her teeth together. That actually made it worse. It might have been better to think he hadn’t considered her feelings at all, because this way he’d willingly humiliated someone he cared about.
“Wow, Aiden. If that’s how you treat your friends…”
“Hey, I was an idiot. If I’d been smart, I would have said I’d lost the bet and let it drop. But I was there with the guys, and they were being pushy, and I found the story just coming out. They said no one would tell and that it would stay within the team.”