Always For You (Always Love Book 1)

by Tawdra Kandle

  “I think so.” I told her a little bit about the past week. “If anything, I may have thrown her off-balance. She doesn’t know quite how to take it. But that’s good, right? Keeping her open to the possibilities of us?”

  “Sounds like it.” Meghan began adding up my purchases. “Now, you keep up the good work. I’ll see her in a couple of weekends at our girls’ night, if not before then, and I’ll find out what’s going on in her mind. Be patient, okay?”

  “I guess so.” I sighed. “Patience doesn’t come that easily after ten years of it.”

  She giggled. “I can understand that. Patience isn’t my strong suit, either. But trust me, in the long run, you’ll be glad you did it.”

  “What about Tim? Should I be concerned about the competition?”

  Meghan shook her head. “Not a bit. Ali talked to Maureen the other day, after she met Tim, and she told Ali they didn’t have any spark. I think you’re safe there.”

  The spark. No wonder she’d been so startled last night when I’d used that phrase. Grinning, I leaned over and kissed Meghan on the cheek.

  “What was that for?” She looked faintly startled.

  “For being my co-conspirator and having my back. Thank you. I’d probably be a wreck if it weren’t for your help. Or I’d have already screwed up my chance with Maureen.”

  Meghan smiled broadly. “You’re welcome. But this is our secret, right? I’ll lose my status as a loyal friend if Maureen finds out I’ve been aiding and abetting the other team.”

  I used my finger to draw a cross over my heart. “It goes with me to the grave, I promise.”

  I’d just pulled back into our driveway when my phone buzzed with a text from Maureen.

  I’m going right over to Ali’s from the office. She’s not feeling well, so I’m going to make dinner for them. Don’t wait up for me.

  Well, there was no missing that for the brush-off it was. Clearly Maureen wasn’t ready to face me yet. I felt a little ashamed, yeah, but mostly I was glad that I’d provoked at least some reaction, even if she was pulling away from me. Avoiding me.

  Frowning, I unloaded the car, carrying my bags of produce directly upstairs to my own kitchen. I put everything away according to Meghan’s instructions—tomatoes didn’t go into the refrigerator, as I’d always thought; instead, they sat on my counter—and was contemplating what to make for dinner when I heard a knock at the kitchen door.

  I jogged down the steps and opened the door when I saw Cory Evans on the stoop, holding some kind of box. She greeted me with a smile.

  “Hey there, Boston! I figured if you weren’t going to come around to say hey, I’d have to hunt you down myself.”

  “Mrs. E!” I wrapped Maureen’s mother in a quick, tight hug. “Good to see you. I’m sorry I didn’t come see you yet. I’ve been trying to get up to speed at the clinic. Actually, I just finished unpacking the last boxes here this morning.”

  She waved one hand as she walked past me into the kitchen. “Oh, don’t worry about it, honey. I was just giving you a hard time. I take it my daughter’s not here, since I don’t see her truck in the drive.”

  I shook my head. “She’s over at Ali’s, making dinner. I guess Ali’s sick.”

  “Hmmm.” Cory raised one eyebrow. “Well, that’s all right. I mostly came to see you, anyway.”

  “I’m flattered.” I slid my hands into the back pockets of my jeans. “Want something to drink? I think Reenie’s got some sweet tea made up in the fridge. Oh, and I just got peaches at Meghan’s stand, if you want some of those.”

  “Thanks, but I’m fine.” She slid the flat brown cardboard box onto the counter. “I made you my specialty macaroni and cheese. It was a favorite of my husband’s, and I thought it might be something you’d enjoy.”

  “Thanks.” I peeled back a corner of the aluminum foil and sniffed appreciatively. “This smells incredible. I think I just found dinner.”

  “Good. Now, I want to know what you intend to do with my daughter.”

  “I . . .” Surprise took away my ability to speak. “Not sure what you mean.”

  “Oh, come on now, Smith. You’re a smart boy. I’ve known you since that first day on the steps, and I happen to think you’re not nearly as clueless as Maureen might think. I’ve known she’s been half-way in love with you since she nearly pushed you down the stairs. And I believe you are . . . let’s say, not indifferent to her, either. So I want to know when you’re going to ante up.”

  My shoulders slumped, and I released a long breath. There wasn’t any use in wasting time playing dumb. “I’m trying, but she’s not making it easy. Meghan says I have to woo Reenie, because she’s not going to believe me if I just tell her how I feel.”

  “Meghan is an astute young woman. No, I think she’s right. Direct is usually a good idea, but Maureen is so used to assuming that no one could ever fall in love with her, she’d blow it off. Wooing’s a good idea.” Cory cast her eyes up, as though she was trying to decide how to phrase her next words. “Reen’s a typical middle child. She had Iona, an over-achieving, confident older sister, and then she had Flynn, the baby brother who got all the attention. She was quiet, unless it was just the family. And she was very close to her father. He was the one who really understood her.”

  I thought of her hesitance to believe she was part of our group of friends in college and of her willingness to accept that I’d never want more than friendship, despite all the evidence to the contrary. “So do you have any advice for me?”

  She shrugged. “Keep at it. Don’t give up on her. Follow through on what you tell her.” Cory planted one hand on her hip and fastened me with a look. “And be very sure that you really do want her, Smith. Because if you break my daughter’s heart, I promise you, it won’t go well for you.”

  I was pretty certain I felt my balls crawl up into my stomach, but I made a good show of staying calm, nodding. “I’ve been sure of that for ten years, Mrs. E. I liked her back then, and now, it’s even stronger. I never knew how she felt, but I’ve been damn sure about my own feelings.”

  “Language.” She tapped my cheek, but her smile softened the blow. “I’m glad to hear it. Now if you—”

  In my pocket, my phone rang, interrupting Mrs. Evans. I held up one finger. “I’m sorry. I’m on call and I need to answer this.”

  The answering service was calling me to a sick pig, my very first farm call since arriving in Burton. I took down the information and the address of the farm before hanging up.

  “Don’t you worry, sweetie pie. I’ve been living with a veterinarian for a while now, remember? Go, do what you need to. I’ll put the mac and cheese in the fridge, and you can heat it up whenever you get back.”

  I kissed her cheek, checked my bag to make sure it was well-stocked, which it was, turned on a few lights in the likely event that I didn’t get back home until after dark and calling goodbye to Mrs. Evans, I climbed into my car.

  Before I left the house, I texted Maureen, out of courtesy, I told myself. It was only decent to let my partner know what was going on, even if I did suspect she was avoiding me after our conversation last night.

  Called to the Watson farm for pig with probable cystitis. Will keep you informed. Have a good dinner.

  And having done what I felt was right, I headed off to take care of a pig with a bladder infection.

  FOR THE NEXT TWO WEEKS after my first date with Tim, I somehow managed to avoid being alone with Smith for any extended period of time. I made sure I left for work before he was up, or I waited to get out of bed until I heard the Corvette pull away. When we did see each other, I pretended that he’d never shaken me with his description of how he’d kiss me. I forced myself to treat him as a casual friend.

  Because that was all we were ever going to be.

  I still didn’t understand what had happened that night in the kitchen. If it had been anyone else saying those words, I would’ve sworn he was coming onto me. And oh, yeah, it would’ve worked.

>   But once I’d gotten a little distance, I’d begun to wonder if Smith had been playing with me. Or if he was jealous of the attention I was paying Tim by going out with him. Smith had never been cruel to me, even when he was teasing, so I knew he hadn’t meant any real harm. Had he not realized how much his words affected me? I wasn’t sure. It had taken me hours to settle myself back down to sleep, and even then, I’d been restless, hyper-aware of my body as well as even the slightest noise from upstairs. Half-asleep, I willed Smith to come down, climb into bed with me and act out the kiss he’d described earlier. Of course he didn’t.

  I wasn’t sure what to expect when I saw him again, and uncertainty made me delay that from happening. I left early for my Saturday hours at the clinic, and then at my lunch break, I called Ali and asked if I could come over that night.

  “Ugh, Reen, I’m sick. I don’t think it’s contagious, I just feel crappy.” She’d sounded awful.

  “Then why don’t I come over there and make dinner for Flynn and Bridget? I promise, I won’t make a fuss, and you don’t have to be sociable. I’ll pick up everything on my way over.”

  Ali had hesitated for about half a second. “Would you really? That would be great, Reenie. I just want to sleep.”

  “Then you do that, and I’ll come over and take care of everything.”

  I’d had a lovely evening at my brother’s house, taking care of Ali, who truly did look miserable, and spoiling Bridget and Flynn. I loved their sweet little home in the woods, with the perfect view of the lake, and making dinner in their kitchen let me make believe I was cooking for my own family. I’d sighed, melancholy once again until Bridget came dancing in to help me set the table. No one could stay sad around that child, with her bright eyes and ready smile.

  By the time I’d gotten home, Smith had gone out to the Watsons to take care of their sick pig Petunia, and then from there, he was called to a home in town to help with a cat who was having trouble delivering her last kitten in a litter of four. I went to bed and was only vaguely aware of hearing the Corvette pull into the driveway much later that night.

  When I finally did see him at home the next day, I pasted on a bright smile and kept up a steady patter of conversation that stuck strictly to work-related topics. Smith related the story of his very first after-hours call, making me laugh as he described Farmer Watson’s taciturn ways.

  “. . . so I asked him what made him suspect Petunia had a problem. And he answered me, but you know, he had this huge wad of something in the side of his mouth—”

  “Tobacco. I’ve never seen Bill Watson without a cheek full of the stuff.”

  Smith grimaced. “Yeah, I figured that out later when he spit a stream of it. Nasty shit. Anyway, I couldn’t understand what he was saying, and I kept saying, ‘Pardon?’ and then he’d say the same damn thing, just a little louder. And for the life of me, I could’ve sworn he was saying, ‘Herpes red.’ So I’m thinking, the pig has herpes? And how the hell did she get that, and ewww, and what the fuck am I supposed to do about it?”

  I had already guessed the truth and collapsed on a kitchen chair, holding my stomach as I laughed.

  “Then finally his wife comes out and hears us going around and around, and she says, ‘Lawd, Billy, speak clear! The Yankee don’t understand you.’ Then she wheels around and looks at me and says, in this really slow, loud voice, like I’m some kind of moron, ‘Her pee is red. The pig. Her pee is runnin’ red.’”

  I managed to get myself under control long enough to speak. “And just what did you do then?”

  “Left them with Lincomycin and said I’d be back next week to do a recheck. I also treated the boar, since they’d recently mated.”

  “Sounds about right. So, you survived your first farm call. You’ve been initiated.”

  “I guess so. It wasn’t that bad. Mrs. Watson made me come inside for coffee and cake, and then just as I was finishing, I got the call for the cat.”

  “And how did that—oh, wait a second, that’s my phone.” I jumped up and grabbed the buzzing phone from the counter. Tim’s name was splayed over the screen, and without meaning to, I glanced at Smith.

  “Go ahead and get it.” He waved his hand, and I figured he was going to leave the kitchen to give me some privacy. But no. As I hit the accept button, Smith leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched me.

  “Good morning, Tim.” I kept my eyes on Smith as I spoke, never dropping them as Tim responded, asking if I might want to go to a movie with him on Monday night.

  “Um . . .” I tried to think of a reason to say no. I liked Tim, but my initial response—that I wasn’t attracted to him in the least bit—was right on the money. I didn’t want to be mean by saying no, but neither did I want to lead him on. “Oh, crap, Tim. I’m on after-hours call tomorrow night.” Burton didn’t have a movie theater, so we’d have to drive at least one town over, too far for me to go in case I was needed by a patient.

  Smith waved to get my attention. “I’ll cover for you,” he said in a loud whisper, as though he was trying to be discreet in front of Tim. As if.

  I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. You have the weekend. It’s my turn on Monday.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t have any plans. You should totally go out with Tim.”

  “I should?” I stared at Smith for a minute, puzzled. Friday night, he’d acted like he was almost jealous of my date with Tim. He’d painted an all-too-seductive word picture of how he’d kiss me. And now he was encouraging me to go out on a second date?

  “Sure. Why not?” He raised one eyebrow, as though daring me to come clean and tell the truth about exactly why I shouldn’t spend tomorrow evening with any man other than him.

  I’d nearly forgotten that Tim was on the other end of the phone, waiting for my final answer. “So what do you say? I’ll pick you about five, so we can get a little something to eat before the movie starts.”

  “Uh, fine, I guess.” I couldn’t have sounded less excited if I’d tried. “See you tomorrow.” I clicked off and set down the phone. “You didn’t have to do that. We have a schedule for a reason. It wouldn’t have mattered to me to say no.”

  Smith grinned. “Like I said, I don’t have any plans. I’ll just be sitting around here, so there’s no reason both of us should stay home, right?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I got the impression you didn’t want me to date Tim. That you didn’t really like him.”

  “Really? Well, if I did or said something to make you think that, I’m sorry.” He came over to where I stood, bracing one arm on either side of my body, caging me in. His face was very close to mine, and I found it was suddenly hard to breathe. When he spoke, his voice was low and husky.

  “I think if you’re going to date anyone who isn’t me, Tim’s the perfect choice.” He hovered there for a minute, his eyes dropping to my mouth, and I was certain he was going to put his words from Friday night into action.

  But he didn’t. Instead, he pushed away, straightening up as he stepped back. “I think I’m going for a run. I’ll take my phone with me, and I won’t go too far, in case someone calls in.”

  I recovered enough to nod. “Okay. Oh, I’m going to be here, so don’t worry about your phone. If anyone calls, I’ll take it.”

  “You sure?” He cocked his head.

  “It’s the least I can do, considering that you’re taking tomorrow night. Go, enjoy your run.”

  “Thanks.” Smith winked at me, whistling as he turned to jog up the steps to his apartment, leaving me frowning and more than a little confused.

  The next two weeks fell into an easy if slightly uncomfortable pattern. Smith had reverted to his old self, friendly and teasing. We worked together so well that sometimes it felt as though we’d always been partners. At home, he respected my boundaries, staying up in his apartment whenever Tim came over, though I suspected that he walked extra-loud at those times, making sure I remembered he was up there.

  “So you th
ink he’s stomping around on purpose?” Ali took a swig of her water. “Why would he do that?”

  We were sitting in the living room at Rilla’s house for our monthly girls’ night get-together. She was days away from her due date and claimed she was too huge to get out the door, so we’d all agreed to spend the evening here with her. Mason’s mother was upstairs with Piper, and the men had all gathered at the Road Block.

  “Who knows why Smith does anything?” I kicked at the leg of my chair. I realized that it didn’t make any sense, not really, but his new laid-back attitude was really starting to piss me off. “At first I thought he had a ‘if I can’t have her, neither can you’ attitude about Tim, but that can’t be it, because clearly he doesn’t want me. Unless maybe he thought if Tim and I really clicked, he might have to find a new place to live.”

  Rilla shifted in her chair, sighing loudly. I was uncomfortable just looking at her, so I couldn’t imagine how she felt. “Men are weird. Maybe Smith didn’t know how he felt about you until you started seeing Tim. By the way, all you’ve talked about tonight is Smith. How’re things going with Tim?”

  I lifted one shoulder. “Fine. He’s fine. I’m fine. We’re fine together.”

  “Has he, um . . .” She rolled her hand and wagged her eyebrows. “You know. Has he made a move?”

  Sighing, I slumped in my seat. “Not really. He’s kissed me good night, and when we were at the movies, he held my hand. But nothing more than that.”

  “And do you wish he would, or are you, um, fine that he hasn’t?” Ali cocked her head at me.

  I blew out another breath. “I don’t know. I guess I’d be okay if he did, but I’m not pushing the issue. I feel bad because I don’t think there’s ever going to be anything between us. I keep saying yes when he asks me out, but that’s just because it’s easier than finding a reason to say no.”

  “Still no spark?” Meghan spoke up for the first time. She’d been unusually quiet all night, at least since we’d begun talking about Smith.