She squeezed the phone. “Nick . . . I’m not moving. Not yet. There’s just . . . a lot going on with the reporters and such. I’m sure you saw the article in the tabloid yesterday—everyone did. They’re stalking me.”
“There are only a few of them now, right? They’ll probably be gone within a week.”
“I know, but . . .” Boy, she hadn’t wanted to get into this with him. “It’s not just the reporters. It seems my ex-fiancé—um, Brad—” How sad that you have to clarify. “He hasn’t quite given up on things. I mean, it’s totally over between us, but as you know, he visited over the weekend and—”
“Yeah, I saw the picture.” His tone bordered on sarcastic.
“That wasn’t what it looked like at all. He—he kinda scared me. Then today he sent flowers.”
“He sent you flowers?”
“I told him I don’t want to see him anymore, but he’s not taking no for an answer.”
“Lucy . . .”
“I don’t want any more to do with him.”
“So you’re depending on your other ex-fiancé for protection.”
There was nothing ugly about his tone, but the words put a pinch in her chest anyway. Guilt? “That’s not fair,” she said softly. “It’s not the way the article made it sound.”
He exhaled long and slow. “I wasn’t judging, Lucy. And I know better than to believe some gossip rag.”
“I’m sorry. The article didn’t show you in a good light. You must be taking a lot of heat from your friends.”
“How can you even know how you really feel about this Brad when you can’t remember your relationship? You were about to marry him.”
“I left him before the wedding.”
“Look . . . Lucy.” He sighed into the pause. “I think this is just too much for me. I like you; you’re a lot of fun. But you’ve got a lot going on right now. You can’t help but be confused.”
“I’m not confused.” Why did everyone think that? She knew perfectly well what she wanted. Who she wanted.
He just didn’t want her back.
“But I did tell you I wasn’t ready to date—that I just wanted to be friends.”
“You did. But if I’m honest, I was hoping things might change. I like you.”
She dropped the shoes to the floor, pushing them into line beside the others. She’d been afraid of that. She should’ve listened to her gut.
“Bad timing,” he said.
She sighed. “I’m sorry if I misled you.”
“You didn’t. But maybe we should just give things a rest for now. You’ve got a lot going on, and the last thing you need is another complication.”
That was the truth if ever she’d heard it. She gave a humorless laugh.
They wound up the phone call a few minutes later, and Lucy took the last of her shoes from the box. Truthfully, Nick was never going to be anything more than a friend, because her heart was already spoken for.
Chapter 28
Zac pushed a table to the stage area with the others, then grabbed a mike and stand from the storage closet. He was serving as the sponsor and host of the firehouse fundraiser. The volunteer squad had moved from the old, outdated fire station and needed equipment for their new building. Paige had volunteered to head up the event. It was for a good cause.
Speak of the devil . . . she returned from his office where she was stashing the ladies’ picnic baskets until auction time. Since it was a blind auction, they were trying to keep the baskets’ owners anonymous, but inevitably some of the couples would cheat.
Paige had already set up tables for two all over the beach, in the square, and on his deck. Once couples had their baskets, they’d retreat to their own romantic lunch.
“Looking great, Zac,” Paige said. “Sara and Lauren are stationed out front to receive the baskets.”
“Think we need more tables up here?”
“We can always add more if we have too many baskets. I hope we do. We need a good turnout to raise all that money.”
He slid the mike into the stand. “It’ll be great. You know the town’ll come out in support.”
Beau entered with Eden and Aunt Trudy. After they traded greetings, they helped Zac shift tables around.
“So . . . ,” Paige said a few minutes later. “Whose basket are you bidding on, Zac?”
“Oh no. I’m not bidding on anything.”
Paige shelved her fists on her hips. “You have to bid. You’re the sponsor.”
“Exactly. I’m doing my part already.”
“Which means you have to set an example. Bid often, bid high.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “The last time you said that, I ended up having lunch with Myrtle Franke.”
“Who is a perfectly nice woman,” Aunt Trudy added.
He shot her a look. “She pinched my butt. Twice.”
Beau snickered, covering his mouth when Zac glowered at him.
“I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it,” Aunt Trudy said. “She’s eighty-some years old, for heaven’s sake. She gets a little confused.”
“Confused, my—”
“You should bid on Miss Trudy’s basket.” Eden gave his aunt a look. “She’s got deviled eggs, pulled pork sandwiches—”
“La-la-la-la-la,” Paige said, putting her hands over her ears. “I don’t hear a thing.”
“—and apple pie,” Eden finished. “I know you like apple pie.”
“But I—oh yes,” Aunt Trudy said. “Bid on my basket, Zac. Maybe I’ll be spared yet another awkward luncheon with the sheriff.”
“Well . . . I suppose.” He hated to disappoint Sheriff Colton, but Paige was probably right about his setting an example. “All right. I’ll do it.”
Eden clapped her hands together, beaming. “It’s settled then. I’m going to go see if Lucy needs help with her basket.”
Ah, yes, Lucy and her basket. Wouldn’t it be fun to watch Nick and who-knew-who-else battle for lunch with his sweet Southern girl?
He squeezed his eyes closed. Not yours anymore, Callahan. He heaved a sigh and went back to arranging tables, trying to ignore the fist that tightened around his heart.
Lucy leaned back in her chair as Beau handed off an auctioned basket and Sara Porter handed him another. He was doing a great job as emcee. The place was standing room only, and the smell of coffee lingered in the air, mixed with a hint of male desperation.
There were only several baskets left. There’d been a lot of laughter, teasing, and poking as the men bid against each other just to rile up their friends. Beau played along, making it even more entertaining. She’d initially thought the picnic auction was too old-fashioned to fly, but it was turning out to be a hoot. So fascinating to watch the interactions and dynamics of the townspeople at work.
Dylan Moore held the top bid so far. He’d paid ninety dollars for Paige’s basket. Even if Lucy hadn’t recognized the insulated cooler, she would’ve identified its owner by the twin flags of color on Paige’s face as the handsome Dylan bid with confidence.
“This next beautiful basket is sure to be a winner,” Beau said into the mike. “It features fried chicken, potato salad, and, mmm, mmm, chocolate cream pie. My favorite. Unfortunately for you fellas, this one’s all mine. I’ll start—and end—the bidding with a crisp fifty-dollar bill. Thank you very much.”
Eden beamed at her fiancé as a chorus of boos sounded.
“Beau!” Paige scolded from her spot against the wall.
He gave her an exaggerated shrug as he handed off the basket.
“Moving on . . . ,” Beau said with a wily smile. “Ah, what have we here?”
Lucy’s pulse kicked up at the sight of her basket. What if no one bid on it? She’d be so humiliated.
Beau read the label. “Pulled pork sandwiches, deviled eggs, and apple pie! Looks like some lucky winner’s about to have a tasty meal. Let’s start the bidding at ten dollars. Who’d like to start us off?”
She surreptitiously scanned the room, hea
t climbing her cheeks, as the silence seemed to draw on forever.
Zac raised his hand. “Ten dollars.”
Her heart flopped over. She stared at his profile. Why was he bidding on her basket? Maybe he didn’t know it was hers. But he hadn’t bid on any others. Her head snapped to the front, her cheeks burning.
“Twenty!” Eddie from the garage shouted.
Beau held up the basket, sniffing. “Smells awfully nice, fellas. I think you can do better than that.”
“Twenty-five,” Zac said.
“Thirty!”
Zac pressed his lips together.
“Thirty-five!” someone behind her called.
“Look at that pretty ribbon,” Beau said. “If the lady’s gone to all that trouble on the outside, imagine what’s in store on the inside. Not many baskets left, guys. Better open up your wallets.”
“Forty,” Zac said.
Lucy pinched her lower lip as her heart found a new gear. What was going on? Had he changed his mind about her? About them?
“Forty-five!” Eddie said.
“Fifty,” called the voice in the back.
Zac slapped his hand on the table. “One hundred!” He turned, giving Eddie and the other guy a flinty look.
The crowd applauded the generosity and the entertainment.
“Going once, going twice . . . sold to Zac Callahan for one hundred dollars!”
Zac worked his way to the front through the gathering crowd to grab Aunt Trudy’s basket. She’d probably want to go to the square and sit under a shade tree. Just as well. He wanted to be far away from Nick and Lucy. Nick had only paid thirty-five dollars for the pleasure of her company. Cheapskate.
Zac reached for the basket decorated with a ruffly white ribbon. The corner of a red-and-white checkered cloth peeked artfully from the lid. He took the basket out of the throng and scanned the mob for his aunt while the crowd began to dissipate. He found her in the far corner with Beau and Paige. Sometimes being a head taller than everyone else came in handy.
As his aunt’s eyes caught his, he lifted a hand and started her way, nearly barreling over . . . Lucy.
He braced her shoulder, then stepped back. “Sorry.” Why’d he always seem to be bumping into her?
“No problem.” She stood in his way, shifting, her eyes darting off his, looking adorably uncertain.
“Well . . . ,” he said.
“Well.”
He lifted the basket. “I should go get Aunt Trudy.”
“We should probably eat on the deck.”
They spoke at the same time.
It took a moment for her words to register. “We should probably eat on the deck.”
This was . . . Lucy’s basket?
His eyes searched Lucy’s, hoping for some mistake. Lead filled his stomach, and it dried to a hard, heavy lump during the long moment that passed. He was going to kill Eden. And Aunt Trudy.
Lucy’s smile fell, her lips parting. The light in her eyes slowly dimmed. “Oh.”
“This isn’t—?”
She gave a wobbly smile. “You thought—no, it’s mine.”
“Oh.”
Her wobbly smile crumbled, and she looked away.
“You don’t have to—”
“We should probably—”
They spoke at the same time.
“—eat on the deck,” he finished. “The reporters.”
“Right. Okay.”
He ushered her out the patio door, blinking against the sunshine. How did he get himself into these messes?
Eden and Aunt Trudy, that’s how.
It’s just lunch. He could sit across a table from Lucy and carry on a casual conversation. It’s for a good cause, he repeated to himself about a dozen times.
He chose a table near the railing and set the basket on one of the seats. No one else had chosen the deck, but there were several tables in view on the beach, one situated on the flat rocky outcrop. A young couple from church was making the climb toward that one.
Lucy whipped out the tablecloth, and the breeze pulled at its corners. Her cheeks were flushed, and she bit the corner of her lip.
He was such an idiot. He’d hurt her feelings. Again. He helped her spread the tablecloth. “I’m sorry about—”
“It’s all right.” Her eyes darted off him.
“I thought it was—”
“I know. It’s fine.” She gave a brave smile as she smoothed out invisible creases. “It’s just lunch, and for a good cause. They raised a fortune for the new firehouse. And I have to admit it was amusing to watch Sheriff Colton battle for Miss Trudy’s basket.”
Zac had wondered why the sheriff hadn’t been bidding against him on Aunt Trudy’s basket. He had thought the man was confused about which basket was hers. Turned out he’d been the confused one.
“Marshall gave him a run for his money.” Sheriff Colton’s face had turned three shades of red, each one darker than the one before it. His bid alone had netted the firehouse over a hundred dollars.
“Who’s the guy who won Paige’s basket? Dark hair, sturdy build . . .”
“Dylan Moore. He’s a fourth-generation lobsterman.” Zac hadn’t missed the looks he’d given Paige or the flush on her face. Lord, he hoped nothing was blooming between them. He didn’t think he could stand to see Riley’s heart broken again.
The tablecloth smoothed, Lucy reached for the food, and he helped her unpack it. The eggs were nestled in a special container, and the pulled pork was kept warm in a stone dish, separate from the bread. Fresh bread from the deli. She’d gone to a lot of trouble, and not for him.
“Was there a mix-up with Nick?” he asked. The guy had bid on someone else’s basket.
She lowered herself to the seat across from him. “Nick and I are just friends.”
“Oh.” His stomach lightened somehow, emptying of all the lead that had filled it before. Something tightened in the vicinity of his heart.
No. No, no, no. This is not good, Callahan.
They tucked into their food. The pork was delicious, tangy with a hint of spice. The deviled eggs seasoned to perfection. Maybe she’d hoped to meet someone new. Someone who would love her back.
“This is good, Lucy. I’m sorry you went to all this trouble.”
Her eyes turned to his, and those twin pools of blue caught him like a riptide. He couldn’t think of a better way to drown. A breeze swept across the table, carrying her appley fragrance his way. She smelled even better than the BBQ pork. Way better.
Her shoulders sank as her tension seemed to drain away. “It’s no trouble, Zac. You’ve done so much for me. I know you didn’t ask for all this. I’ve been nothing but an inconvenience and you don’t owe me a thing, much less a place to lay my head.” Her lips worked wordlessly for a moment, then tipped in a little smile. “You’re a good man, Zac Callahan.”
His heart fluttered in his chest. Fluttered.
She was too generous, considering how he’d been pushing her away since she got here.
He cleared his throat. “Have you heard, ah, anything from your ex-fiancé?”
She blinked, then picked at her sandwich. “Um, no. Not since the flowers. I sent the engagement ring back.”
“That’s good. Maybe that’ll get through to him. I noticed more of the reporters left.” He took a swig of the bottled peach tea. “Did they let you out of your apartment lease?”
“They’re holding it for another month. Awful nice of them.”
“The Ferrises are good people. You think a month will be long enough?”
She gave him a desperate look. “Gosh, I hope so. Surely he won’t harass me longer than that.”
He eyed her as she bit into her sandwich, remembering the sheer desperation he’d felt when she’d left last year. He’d tried everything he knew to find her. He’d told himself he wanted answers, but he knew now it was more than that. He wanted her back. And if he’d had any way of reaching her, he would’ve tried for way longer than a month.
“We’ll have to see how it goes,” he said. “How’s the job going?”
“Just fine. I like working with people, helping them plan out their vacation, make proper use of their time.”
“I’m sure you’re good at it.” He wiped his mouth. “You think you’ll ever use your sociology degree?”
Her eyes found her plate. “I don’t know.” She bit her lip, her gaze flickering up to meet his. “Sometimes I think about opening some kind of community center one day . . . Someplace kids could go to after school and during the summer. So many families have both parents working these days, and that leaves kids at loose ends.”
“What kinds of activities would it offer?”
“Oh, a basketball court would be ideal, and maybe Ping-Pong tables. Maybe an area where they can play board games or work a puzzle, watch a movie and whatnot. A quiet corner for homework.” Her eyes lit up as she talked. “I’d love to have adult volunteers to serve as mentors and have it be a real place of connection, you know?” Her eyes fell away from his, color blooming in her cheeks. “That’s probably silly.”
He leaned forward. “Not at all. You’ve seen the teens that loiter around the Roadhouse. And the sheriff’s always complaining about kids making trouble. They’re good kids, but they’ve got too much time on their hands. A community center sounds like a great idea. You should do it.”
She snorted. “Oh, sure. I’ll just run over to the bank and borrow a million or two.”
“You shouldn’t—”
A voice carried to the deck. A loud one. He tilted his head, listening. It was coming from around the corner, in the shade of the Roadhouse.
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have left me!”
“It was the NBA, Trudy. I was just a farm boy. How could I turn down an opportunity like that?”
Lucy’s eyes widened as they met and held Zac’s.
“You promised me!” Aunt Trudy said. “But I should’ve known better than to believe anything you say, Danny Colton.”
“Me? You married someone else the second I left!”
“I don’t have to sit here and listen to this.”
“Well, then, by all means! That’ll only leave more for me.”
“If I leave, I’m taking my basket with me!”
The Goodbye Bride Page 17