by Deanna Chase
“Right. I’ll do that,” Rhys mumbled.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Miranda said and gave him a bright smile.
“You’re probably right,” he agreed, having no intention of seeing a healer. Her assessment wasn’t a surprise to him. He’d been pushing himself pretty hard lately. Work hard, play hard had become his personal mantra over the last few years. He made a mental note to go to Charming Herbs and get the ingredients for a basic energy potion.
“Thanks for the conversation, handsome.” Miranda winked at him. “I hope you come by the signing tomorrow. Yvette’s having it catered by the Incantation Café. Those scones they make are to die for.”
“Maybe.” It was a lie. The only way he’d show up was if they ordered food from the brewery or Hanna needed help with a delivery. It just wasn’t his idea of fun to stand in line all day with hundreds of other people. Besides, his ereader was already full. Books weren’t something he was short on.
“Come on, Rhys,” she coaxed. “Give us girls a hero to look at for an hour or so.”
He chuckled. “Maybe Jacob will be there. Let him bask in the attention.”
“Hmm. I think that sounds like a job for Brian. I met him earlier today. Talk about a flirt.” She jerked her head toward the other end of the bar where the man in question was feasting on a basket of wings. “Gotta go recruiting. Have a nice evening, Rhys.”
He watched her go and felt that weight he always carried with him return in full force.
At a quarter to seven, Rhys walked into the Incantation Café. The moment he saw Hanna, a smile pulled at the corners of his lips. She was always pretty, but tonight she’d dressed to no doubt torture him. He both loved it and dreaded it. It would take an act of god to not put his hands on her.
Her bronze skin practically glowed against the shimmering gold sweater dress that showed off all her curves. And if that wasn’t enough, she was wearing lace-up, knee-high, high-heeled boots that made her legs go on for days.
“Good evening, Rhys,” she said, giving him a knowing look. She knew exactly what she was doing to him, and he didn’t even care. No man on the planet could be unaffected by her beauty.
He swallowed hard and raised his gaze to her eyes. “You look lovely, Hanna.”
“Thanks.” She walked past him, her shoulder barely brushing up against his. A small shudder rolled through him, causing his hands to ache to touch her.
Cool it, Rhys, he told himself. Friends. That’s what they had been since they were kids, and that’s what they were going to continue to be. They had to. He missed her too much. Ever since they’d dated briefly the year before, their relationship had been strained. He knew it was his fault. He’d had a moment of weakness when he asked her out on a real date. And other one when he’d kissed her for the first time. Their relationship had been so easy, so perfect, and it had scared him to death. He’d suddenly known if he let it go any further, there’d be no going back. He’d never be able to let her go, and in the end he’d just hurt her. And that was the one thing he couldn’t live with.
Friends. That’s what we are and that’s what we always will be, he told himself again.
“Are you coming?” she asked from the doorway.
“Rhys! Don’t you look nice,” Mary Pelsh said from behind him.
He turned and smiled at her. “Thank you, Mrs. Pelsh. So do you.”
Hanna’s mother rolled her eyes. “Please. I’ve been here for ten hours and probably have flour in my hair. But you’re sweet to say so. You kids go out. Have fun. And Hanna, don’t forget to bring me a piece of that lovely tiramisu.”
“You got it, Mom,” Hanna said cheerily. “Come on, Rhys. Let’s go before I feel too guilty for leaving her here by herself to finish the baking prep.”
“Pshh,” Mary said, waving her hand. “I wouldn’t let you if you tried.”
Rhys had no doubt that was true. Mary Pelsh had never made it a secret that she wished the two of them would get together. She’d probably grill Hanna about their evening later.
Hanna slipped her arm through Rhys’s and gave him one of her dazzling smiles. “I hope your credit card isn’t maxed out, because I’m about to order half of everything on the menu.”
“Don’t worry, Muffin,” he said with a grin. “I came prepared. I haven’t forgotten your impressive eating skills.”
“You know I hate it when you call me that,” she said with mock annoyance. He’d started using the sugary sweet nickname when they were teenagers after she’d put him and four other people to shame in a muffin eating contest.
“No, you don’t. Otherwise your lips wouldn’t turn up into that tiny little smile every time I say it.” He slid his hand down to the small of her back and then adjusted his grip, cupping it around her slender waist, letting himself enjoy the feel of her for just a moment.
She paused and gazed at him, her expression soft. “Be careful, Rhys. With the flirting and the way you’re looking at me, a girl could get the wrong impression.”
He knew he should drop his hand and take a step back. But he just couldn’t. She felt too good. And she wasn’t getting the wrong impression. Far from it. He wanted her. Wanted her so badly he could taste it. It was just… under the circumstances… He gave himself a tiny shake and finally did take a step back while shoving his hands into his pockets. Then he gave her a teasing smile. “It’s a good thing you wore a stretchy dress. There are six desserts on the menu, and I intend to order at least four.”
Her lips twitched, and she shook her head. “Don’t wimp out on me now, Silver. Better order all six. That way you’ll be sure to get at least one.”
“That’s my girl,” he said with a wink. “I knew I could count on you.”
Chapter Three
Hanna savored the crisp citrus flavor of her Sauvignon Blanc as she admired Rhys over the rim of her wine glass. Had he been working out? He was wearing a long-sleeved, button-down shirt, but the sleeves had been rolled up to just below his elbows. And those forearms… holy hell. Her fingers ached to reach out and touch him.
Stop it, Hanna, she told herself. They were just friends. And other than the flirting she’d called him on when he’d picked her up at the café, he was certainly driving solidly in the friend lane.
“I think you should give that guy a try,” Rhys said. “What did your mom say his name was?”
“Chad,” Hanna said, narrowing her eyes at him. “I thought you stepped in to save me from having to go on a blind date with him. Why are you pushing this now?”
He chuckled softly. “I saw an opening to get you out to dinner with me, and I took it. Our fight has gone on for too long. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t consider this Chad guy. Sounds like he’s really talented. Maybe he can teach you scales or something.”
Hanna made a face. “You do remember the clarinet fiasco, right? How my teacher told my parents that no matter what keys I used, the ‘music’ sound like a donkey in heat?”
“You just needed more time to practice. That old bag was expecting too much too fast,” he said and took a sip of his own wine.
“I’d been having weekly lessons for two years.”
Rhys laughed and then promptly choked on his wine. His eyes were watering by the time he got himself under control, but he grinned at her. “Okay, so music isn’t your strong point. But maybe he’ll write you a symphony.”
Hanna rolled her eyes. “Would you drop it already? I’m not interested in a blind date.”
“If you say so.”
There was an awkward silence as Hanna wondered why he was so keen on setting her up with the new guy. She assumed it was because he felt guilty that their stint at actual dating hadn’t lasted more than a few months. If she was paired off, he wouldn’t have to worry about her pining for him. The idea that he might feel sorry for her made her want to hit him, and she scowled.
“Hey,” he said softly. “It was just an idea. You don’t have to date the piano man. Obviously, you’re smart and gorgeous. You
can have anyone you want.”
Except you, she thought, and then she shook her head as if to dislodge the words from her mind.
“Yes, you can,” he said, misinterpreting her thoughts. “Damn, Hanna. You’re a model for god’s sake.”
“An amateur one,” she clarified. “It’s not like I do regular modeling work.”
“You could.” He sat back, holding his wine glass, and eyed her. “I bet if you took off for New York or Los Angeles, you’d be signed to an agency in no time.”
Her insides warmed. She knew he wasn’t just trying to flatter her. He’d said the same thing many times before. Perhaps it really was time to let go of the fact that she wanted to be his other half. It was obvious he didn’t feel the same, and it was time to accept that he loved her, but not in a romantic way.
It was in that moment that she finally admitted to herself just how much she’d missed his friendship. It was time to get over the idea that they might ever be a couple and just accept what he was able to offer. She could do this. If she could just stop staring at his muscular forearms.
“Thanks,” she finally said. “But you know I’m not interested in leaving Keating Hollow. I love working at the café. Did I tell you my mom made me a partner?”
He leaned forward, his eyes lighting up at her news. “Really? When did that happen?”
“About six months ago. We’ve expanded by supplying bakery items to Faith’s spa and Yvette’s bookstore. Add in the tourists their two businesses bring to this town, and we’re suddenly a lot busier than we used to be. I manage the bakery side while Mom manages the rest of the café.”
“Wow. That’s great, Han.” He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “It’s what you always said you wanted.”
Hanna beamed. “It is. I wasn’t sure the café was going to be big enough to support two households, but we’re there. I even moved into my own place a few months ago.”
“Really?” His eyes widened in surprise, and then he frowned. “You didn’t tell me that.”
Was that hurt she saw in his expression? She leaned in, and this time she was the one to grab his hand. “Listen, Rhys. This last year or so… we just weren’t close. And I—”
“I know that’s my fault,” he said stiffly.
She let go of his hand and sat back in her chair. It was true that it was mostly his fault, but since January, she’d been the one giving him the cold shoulder. Now she was ready to put the past behind them. Rhys was her oldest friend. They’d been best friends in high school and when her sister died, he’d been there, holding her up, keeping her going, and giving her a reason to live, not just survive. She cherished him for it. She loved him for it. And letting their failed romantic relationship get in the way of their friendship was stupid. “Let’s not play the blame game, okay? I just want my friend back.”
“I’m right here, Muffin,” he said with a hint of a relieved smile. “Always right here for you.”
“Good.”
The waitress chose that moment to arrive and take their dessert orders.
“One of everything,” Rhys said, handing her the menus. “And coffee for both of us.”
“Regular or decaf?” she asked.
“Regular,” both Rhys and Hanna said at the same time. As she nodded and walked away, they both laughed. Some things never changed.
“So…” Hanna leaned forward. “I told you my news. What have you been up to? Anything exciting? How’s the job at the brewery? Is Clay letting you do any test batches?”
Rhys put down his wineglass. “Actually, yes. Sort of anyway. With Lincoln still recovering from his cancer treatments and the extra-busy tourist season, we’ve really had to be on our toes.” Lincoln Townsend, a pillar in the community, owned the Townsend Brewery and was dealing with a cancer diagnosis. It hadn’t been easy for him, but he’d handed the Master Brewer reins over to Clay Garrison so he could concentrate on getting well.
It made sense. Clay was an earth witch and had a talent for such things. Rhys was a water witch, and while that came in handy sometimes, it wasn’t the same as being able to manipulate the grains and ingredients that went in the beer batches to make them unique. Still, Rhys had always had an interest in the chemistry of brewing and wanted to try his hand at what could be done without ingredient manipulation.
“What does ‘sort of’ mean?” Hanna asked.
“It’s not beer. It’s cider. Lin decided it was time to diversify and wants us to see what we can do with some of those apples in his orchard. Clay’s asked me to spearhead the project. If I can come up with something great-tasting, there’s potential for me to oversee that arm.”
“Rhys!” Hanna cried. “That’s incredible. Wow. Have you had any luck yet? Anything worth writing home about?”
He shrugged as if it wasn’t any big deal. “I’ve been experimenting with a few small homebrew batches, just to see what I think of the combinations. We can’t really do anything big at the brewery until fall when Lin’s apples are ready to harvest. For now, I’m just using fresh-pressed juice.”
Hanna pursed her lips and eyed him knowingly. “Just a few experiments? I bet you have dozens of samples already.” That’s how he was when he was excited about a project. He went all-in until he was satisfied with the results.
He threw his head back and laughed. “You know me entirely too well, Hanna. Yes. I have about three dozen batches. Nothing great yet, though, so don’t pester me to taste anything yet.”
It was her turn to laugh. He knew her well, too. She was dying to taste-test his first tries. She wanted a reference for when he unveiled a winning brew. “Oh, come on. Not even for your oldest friend?”
He relented immediately, and she was a little surprised. “All right. You can come over on Sunday, but it has to be in the afternoon. I have a thing in the morning.”
“Thing?” She raised one eyebrow. “Since when do you get up early on a Sunday?”
“Since I took up hang gliding. It’s incredible. The route is out over the Pacific and then we land back on the beach. I swear, it’s the best adrenaline rush ever.”
“Hang gliding? Seriously?” Excitement shot through Hanna, and she nearly jumped right out of her chair. “I’m coming with you. Oh, my gods, I’ve always wanted to do that.”
But instead of being happy that his friend wanted to join him, Rhys was frowning.
“What?” she asked him, confused. “What’s wrong? Are you meeting with someone else and don’t want me in the way?”
“No, of course not,” he said, shaking his head. His forehead was wrinkled and his eyebrows drawn together when he added, “You can’t go hang gliding, Hanna. It’s far too dangerous.”
“No, it isn’t. You go, don’t you?” she said, annoyed that he sounded like one of her parents.
“That’s different,” he said, frowning. “I’m experienced. I’ve been doing this type of thing for over two years while you’ve been learning to bake scones and fancy cupcakes. Hang gliding is for someone a little more… athletic.”
“I work out!” Then Hanna let out a derisive snort. “Chauvinist much? What, you think I can’t learn?”
“That’s not... it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that you’re a girl. It really is dangerous.”
“If you can do it, I can too,” she insisted, acutely aware that she was digging in only because he was telling her she shouldn’t. Hanna didn’t like it when people tried to tell her what to do. She especially didn’t like it when that person was Rhys, who thought he was entitled to some kind of say-so over her life even when he’d kept her at arm’s length for an entire year.
“Hanna.” He pressed his fingertips to his temple. “No. It’s just too dangerous. I won’t let you.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” She raised one eyebrow and peered at him. “What are you gonna do? Tell your guy to not take me?”
“Yes, if that’s what it takes.” There was fire in his gaze as he said the words, and she had no doubt that
he would make good on his promise.
“You’re something else, you know that?” She placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Do you really think it doesn’t worry me when you go rock climbing or skydiving or surfing in the dead of winter?”
“How did you know about the climbing and skydiving?” he asked, eyeing her with suspicion as if he just realized she’d been stalking him. But as much as she’d have wanted to, that wasn’t her style and he should know that about her.
She waved an impatient hand. “It’s a small community, Rhys. People talk.”
His frown deepened as if he couldn’t possibly understand why anyone would talk about his extreme sports.
The waitress arrived. She was all smiles as she placed one plate after another on the table. “You two must really love your sweets.” After leaving them extra forks and spoons, she quickly returned with the coffee pot and filled their cups. “Anything else I can get for you? Extra cream or sugar?”
“No,” they both said. Then Rhys glanced up at her. “Thank you.”
Hanna added, “Can you bring us some to go boxes and the check? It looks like I’m going to have to leave sooner than expected.”
“Sure.”
As soon as she left, Rhys placed his hand over Hanna’s. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just… I worry.”
She pulled her hand from his, hating how much she liked his touch. “It’s not your job to worry about me, Rhys. I can handle myself.”
There was an awkward silence until the waitress brought the to-go boxes. The desserts remained untouched, despite their earlier banter about trying them all. Their server was quick and efficient, helping Hanna get them all boxed up. Then she ran Rhys’s credit card and brought Hanna a bag for her boxes.
“Let’s go. I have to get up early,” Hanna said, standing.
“Han,” Rhys said with a sigh. “I was hoping we could take a walk down by the river, like old times.”
“Not tonight,” she said, grabbing the to-go bag. “Maybe another time.”