by Meredith, MK
They peered over Maxine’s terrace to watch Larkin follow the old woman into the entrance of the Town Square apartments. Larkin thought the baby shower was later in the week, but everyone agreed the Sunday before the gala was the perfect time to celebrate.
One week before the gala, a celebration of the opening of her little boy’s impact on the world, and two weeks before her daughter would bless them again.
Claire sighed then led Blayne to the side of the sliding doors that led out to the festivities from Maxine’s living room. “It’s beautiful.” She glanced around the space.
Blayne took in the sweet smile of yearning on her friend’s face. “Are you okay?”
“Me?” Claire scoffed. “Of course! I’m celebrating one of my best friends’ biggest moments with my other.” She slid her arm through Blayne’s.
She wasn’t fooling anyone. At least not Blayne. Claire smiled and planned and gushed and prepared, but through it all, there was a glimmer of sadness in her blue eyes, a hint of yearning.
Having lost her unborn child after the death of her fiancé, Larkin’s pregnancy and baby shower had to be harder than she let on. The Claire from last year would have given Larkin the finger, but the Claire today gave her a baby shower.
And Blayne worried.
Better she worry about Claire and celebrate with Larkin than obsess about Jamie and his smooth lips and strong hands…
…and the fact she was leaving in a week.
She felt his sincere regret deep in her heart. The truth of his feelings didn’t ghost between them like apparitions; they were solid, tangible actions, but they didn’t change the past.
The town meeting showed her that. It was one thing to want to change but something altogether different to really make the change stick. And she was terrified that if Jamie ever had the right opportunity present itself, she’d lose again.
She ached with exhaustion at constantly striving for first place in the lives of those she loved but always coming in second.
No more.
She resisted the self-deprecating chuckle. It was good to have goals.
“It turned out really pretty, didn’t it?” Claire asked.
Blayne followed the strings of globe lights that hung from one end of the terrace to the other, then the fairy lights wrapped around the bases of the potted palms. Black, white, and aqua pillows and throws made the couches and lounges inviting, and a large champagne fountain on the round marble table glittered. Light reflected off the collection of strawberry-filled flute glasses.
Two long tables were set with aqua dinnerware and silver utensils that sparkled, framed by centerpieces of baby’s breath and silver streamers. Yogurt-dipped, dark chocolate desserts shaped like baby feet were tied with an aqua ribbon on each plate.
Nora Jones sang in the background, accompanied by the comforting trickling of Maxine’s outdoor waterfall.
“It’s beyond pretty, Claire, it’s stunning. She’s going to be blown away,” Blayne assured her.
Claire grinned then yanked her down.
Blayne almost fell on her ass but was able to right herself before turning her ankle on her new stiletto Mary Janes. “Hey!”
“She’s coming,” Claire whispered, seemingly not caring at all if Blayne fell.
She shook her head with a smile.
“Girls!” Evette yell-whispered from her very awkward position behind Janice’s red curls. “Shut up. She’s coming.”
Blayne could only roll her eyes at these women she loved so much and, rubbing the warmth spreading through the center of her chest, peeked through the windows along with everyone else as Larkin followed Maxine through the kitchen toward the terrace.
“You have to see the little garden I managed out here. Of course, I don’t grow anything quite as well as Janice, but don’t tell her that. Her head’s already way too big for those narrow shoulders,” Maxine rattled on.
Evette, eyes sparkling with humor, grabbed Janice to keep her from reacting to the made-up slight. “Shhhh.”
Larkin’s mom hid behind one of the plants. Mae, Janice’s daughter, squeezed as far as she could past her mother, and Shelly Anne tried to tuck down as far as she could behind Blayne.
The large sliding door whisked open and as Larkin stepped through they all jumped up, tossing handfuls of white bird seed into the air. “Surprise!”
Larkin slapped her chest and looked around with a startled expression. Her eyes immediately filled, and her lowered lip trembled. “You guys.” She took in every detail of the terrace and her friends then turned to Claire and Blayne. “This is more than I ever imagined. I thought we were planning on celebrating at Delizioso!”
“We wanted you to have something private and special,” Claire said.
“No worries, Delizioso will come later for after-party drinks and tiramisu,” Blayne promised.
Their friend shook her head and held her now very large and very round tummy. “Wow. It even matches the nursery.”
Claire nodded. “Of course. It had to be perfect. Come here. I have sparkling grape juice for you.” She poured Larkin a glass.
Blayne joined them and topped two strawberry-filled flutes with champagne. She shoved one at Claire. She may not admit anything was wrong, but the over-bright look in her eyes told Blayne something else altogether. “Here. Drink this.”
Claire resisted. “What? I’m fine.”
“I know. Drink.”
Maxine joined them. “I’ll have one too, sweets.”
“Sure thing, Maxine.” She eyed the cool, straight edge of her friend’s silver hair and it reminded her of Jamie’s strong jawline. “By the way, how’d Jamie get his hands on a whole jar of your moonshine?”
Maxine raised one arched salt-and-pepper brow. “Well, a certain young man shouldn’t have shared the possession of said jar in the first place. Even with the woman he’s sleeping with.”
Blayne choked on her champagne as all the ladies turned toward Maxine.
“I’m not…he’s not…I mean.” Her stomach dropped. All she needed was Larkin’s hope getting raised that she’d be staying Stateside now that she’d played naked hide-in-the-sheets with the bloke.
“What’s this?” Larkin grabbed her arm. “How could you not tell me?!”
Janice, curls bobbing, slid her arm through Evette’s and leaned forward. “It was only a matter of time. I always said you were never over him.”
“You never said any such thing.” Maxine snorted, grabbing a baby foot from a plate, then chomping off a few toes. “I did.”
Blayne blanched at the idea that her sex life with Jamie was part of anyone’s conversation, period. Though, truth be told, sex with him was goddamn Pulitzer-worthy. The way he used his hands and tongue at the same time was complete genius, not to mention…
“Blayne!” Snap. Snap. Larkin’s fingers came into view.
Shit. She hadn’t seen him in almost four days but hadn’t stopped yearning even for one.
This was going to be a problem.
After the talk they had, she wouldn’t be surprised if he avoided her until the gala. Pain had left her tongue sharp, but she’d been desperate to protect herself from his apology and regret. He had to understand that what was between them didn’t change anything. Not in the way he seemed to hope.
“Anyway,” she gritted out. “We have a party to get back to. Claire didn’t work so hard on all of this for it to go to waste.” She turned to her friend. “What can I help with next?” She sent her a help-me-or-die look.
Unfortunately, Claire didn’t care.
“Oh, no rush. I’d love to hear about this new development.”
Blayne clenched her teeth.
“Was he as good as you remember?” Mae asked with hope in her eyes.
“I want to know if his you-know-what seems bigger,” Janice inquired.
“You can say penis, for goodness sake,” Shelly Anne added.
“Penis? Hell, say dick. That’s what we’re all thinking.” Maxine tossed a
champagne-soaked strawberry into her mouth. “We all like a good, hearty…dick.” She finished the sentence with a loud lip smack.
Oh my God, kill me now.
Larkin laughed so hard Blayne was afraid she’d go into labor early, and Claire was no better. Uh huh. She saw how they were. Paybacks were a bitch. “You are all children.” She shook her head.
Maxine’s doorbell rang, grabbing her attention. “Ahhh…the entertainment!”
Blayne looked at Claire, but the look she got in return was a blank stare and a blink.
Claire took advantage of the interruption to bring out a tray of butternut squash ravioli appetizers, and Blayne controlled a very quiet sigh of relief.
Maxine burst through the doors, tugging a surprised and unwilling Mitch behind her. “Here he is, ladies!”
“What the hell?” The look on Mitch’s face was a mix of get-me-the-fuck-outta-here and how’d-I-fall-for-this-again. Blayne would have felt bad but she was too relieved the attention was off her to care. She’d consider how that might affect her karma later.
Claire spun around with a ravioli between her fingers, then shoved it in her mouth in a nervous reflex. Blayne stared at her, trying to figure out what was going on.
Maxine grabbed Mitch and tugged him to the middle of the terrace. “Time for the fun and games. The first up is Mr. Blue-Balls.”
“Aw, hell no.” Mitch swore.
Blayne shoved Claire forward. “Claire volunteers.”
She resisted with a screeched, “The hell I do.”
Janice’s eyes lit up. “It’s like you were made for each other.”
Blayne couldn’t help the guffaw that flew from her mouth. She shouldn’t take so much pleasure from the predicament Claire now found herself in. Janice has been trying to marry her playboy son off for years.
Larkin slid in beside Blayne and hip-bumped her. “Made for each other.” She tilted her head. “Huh, kind of like you and your Jamie.”
Blayne’s chest squeezed tight, and she tried to speak past it. “He’s not my Jamie.” And he couldn’t be. She’d always feel less than, passed over, unnecessary. Like when he left, like when she had to share the opportunity at the community center, like she did on stage when the town preferred to hear from him instead of her.
She’d willingly surrender her body to him, that was something she wanted, something for herself. Giving him her trust was another thing altogether.
Larkin squeezed her arm. “But you want him to be.”
She formed the word “no” with her lips but before she could get it out, her friend shoved a strawberry in it.
“Eat this. It’s not nice to lie in front of the baby.”
* * *
Ryker threw a rope toward Jay. “Here, make yourself useful and tie that down. Max and Martha will be here any minute.”
Jay wound the rope in a figure-eight around a dock cleat. “I tried to get the conversation back on track, but people had questions, and you know how important my family is. There are expectations that must be met as an Astor. I mean, what the fuck was I supposed to do? But you should have seen the look on her face. I’ve been kicking myself in the ass ever since.”
A sharp pain flared along the side of his head, and he spun around to see a deck brush skid across the teak. “What the fuck, man?”
“My thoughts exactly,” Ryker growled. “At the rate you’re moving, we won’t have enough daylight to get the boat out in the water.” Leaning against the helm, he twisted the cap off a beer.
“I want to marry her, Ryker.”
His buddy grunted. “Good. Can you do it after we sail?”
He had a point. Since arriving, Jay had rehashed every moment—well, almost every moment—with Blayne since he’d returned to town. Ryker wasn’t really interested beyond a “good luck, buddy” kind of way, but Jay needed to work it all out in his head in order to figure out what to do.
It killed him to see the defeat in her eyes. She’d always been a fighter, and the idea that he’d had anything to do with stripping that away killed him. He just had to help her see that she was loved by the town and together they could accomplish what she wanted to do.
She didn’t have to do it alone.
He’d be with her every step of the way. He was her future because God knew she was his.
He wanted to make her his in every possible way.
Then someday, he’d get her to Ireland and make her dad see in her all the amazing qualities that had been there all along.
A future without her left his gut twisted more than a day out in rough seas ever could. He released a pent-up breath in a grunt of agreement to Ryker.
But for now, he’d shut up and focus on getting the mayor to expedite a few last licensing issues they had for the community house.
Max Stanton and Mayor Sebastian Marth stepped aboard with Judge Carter right behind them. “Look who we found.” Sebastian jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the judge.
The judge stepped aboard. “I saw the boys out on the boardwalk and thought I’d stop by and say hello.”
“You a little lost without Maxine, Judge?” Jay teased.
Ryker snorted. “You’re one to talk.”
“What the hell ever, you’ve been nothing but rainbows and sunshine since meeting Larkin.”
Tipping his beer back for a swallow, Ryker grinned. “Sounds like me.”
Max raised an accusing brow. “I thought we were heading out?”
Van Buren jerked his beer toward Jay. “This one’s been sharing his goddamn feelings, so she isn’t ready.”
On the word “feelings,” Sebastian swung away to step off the boat.
“Get the fuck back here, Martha,” Ryker demanded.
Dropping his square chin to his chest, Sebastian hesitated at the nickname, then glared at him. The name started in high school before his growth spurt then stuck—at least with his closest friends. The rest of the town didn’t dare. “I came here for beer and poker. I’ve had enough feelings to last me a lifetime today at the office.”
Max shoved him in the chest and teased in a high-pitched voice. “Oh, Mayor Marth, I need your help.”
Sebastian shoved him back, sending Max over the stanchions and onto the wood deck
“Fuck, man,” Max yelled.
Sebastian laughed and accepted a beer from Ryker.
“I’m not talking about my feelings, jackass.” Jay grabbed a bottle and tried to force the tightness in his neck to relax. “You know how Blayne is—”
“I’m out.” Sebastian stepped toward the dock again.
“Fuck you.” Jay grabbed the deck brush and threw it at the mayor. It bounced off his meaty body without effect then smacked the judge in the arm.
“Shit.” Jay scrambled to catch the brush. He’d never get another sip of moonshine again if Teddy went to Maxine telling her he’d been abused.
“You should have aimed for Martha’s head,” Ryker deadpanned.
Jay shot his buddy a look. “Not helping.”
Max grabbed his own beer. “Clearly, we aren’t going out in the water. Are we at least playing a game of poker?”
“Waiting on Mitch.” Jay sunk down on one of the deck chairs.
“Just the five of us. Sorry-ass got tricked into helping Maxine out with Larkin’s baby shower.” Ryker’s eyes glinted with humor, and Judge Carter shuddered.
Max sunk into a chair with a shake of his head and judgment in his tone. “You’re a bad wingman.”
“Better him than me. I’ve dealt with much worse with my grandmother.”
Jay nodded. “We all did, but damn if she doesn’t make the best moonshine in Maine. One sip from her most recent batch and I promised to be her slave for life.”
Sebastian shot him a look, and Max coughed in his hand.
What the hell? It was bad enough Blayne had her eyes all over the mayor and his big sacks the other day—the idea he even thought of censoring Jay, irritated him on every possible level. He shifted forward in his chair.<
br />
“What?” He challenged.
“I thought Maxine wasn’t making her concoctions?” Judge Carter questioned.
Oh. Fuck. Jay could feel all the blood drain from his arrogant brain. What the hell did he just do?
Blayne didn’t know it yet, but the town would surely welcome her over him after what he just did.
And if the look on Mayor Marth’s face was any indication, he didn’t have a chance in hell getting anything expedited besides his own ass out of town.
He was on the losing end of two for two in the past week.
As much as he loved Ryker and Larkin, he could handle screwing up the launch.
What he couldn’t handle, wouldn’t allow, was failing on winning back Blayne. The past ten years had shown him what a future without her was like.
He’d follow her all the way to Ireland if he had to, because there was no way he was letting her go—no matter if she felt there was nothing to let go of.
She was everything.
Chapter 13
Late Wednesday evening, Blayne dug her heels in. “Why are we here?”
To her surprise, Jamie hadn’t avoided her at all, on the contrary. He’d been at her beck and call, handling any detail. Competent. Capable.
Dependable.
Her heart wanted to believe it, but her brain warned her that history repeated itself, it never learned.
They’d been working non-stop at the center, and any free moments she did have had been preparing Eclectic Finds so it would keep thriving while she supervised from abroad—only made possible with good help.
The thought brought her round again to Jamie.
The Astor estate loomed above her like the Disney Castle. At least, what she imagined the Disney Castle would look like from a two-year-old’s point of view because that’s exactly how she felt at that moment as Jamie propelled her along the river-rock walkway toward the large, double front door.
She wanted her mother’s skirts to hide behind but, instead, self-consciously smoothed the red polka dots of the one she wore. Losing her ma hurt the most when she needed her. In a way though, it had gotten easier over the years to not constantly think about the fact she was gone.