Rum and Raindrops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary Romance

by Oram, Jean

Amber pointed a finger at Jen. “No acting like yourself tonight. You are a demure woman who eats daintily, sips her drinks, and takes small steps.”

  “Right, roger that, got it, good to go,” Jen said nervously as she checked her phone for voicemails from Rob that never seemed to come. What the hell was up? Was he still out in some remote forest? Had he received her messages of apology? Of asking him to be her date for Dina’s wedding? Or of her asking him out on that hike she’d promised when they’d first met?

  Maybe she was coming off as too desperate. The last time she’d seen him, he’d said she needed time to figure things out and that he was just a complication. Did he still think that? Why wasn’t he calling her back?

  “Are you sure he’s going?” Amber asked, her doubt lingering.

  “He’s a groomsman,” Mandy reminded, the mascara wand still poised and at the ready for another coat.

  “Something doesn’t feel right,” Amber said.

  Jen released a slow breath, calming herself. What would she say to him when she saw him? What would she start with?

  “We’re missing a piece,” Mandy agreed. “He can’t be that scared of falling in love with Jen.”

  Amber cracked a smile. “Are you kidding? This girl pushed him down a mountain covered in soot and mud. He should be terrified of her.”

  Jen gave a weak smile. “He took it well.” She’d finally spilled the whole story about Rob from start to finish to her friends, and they’d swooped in, stunning her as they pulled an outfit together so she could wow Rob at the wedding. They’d done her hair up in curls, outfitted her in a dress from May’s dress shop that resembled the famous one worn by Marilyn Monroe over the steam grate, and made Jen show off curves she hadn’t realized she had. Her makeup was incredible. She was incredible.

  Rob didn’t stand a chance. At least the male part of him. The brain part might still have issues with the way she’d taken down his career, but hopefully the male part would hit the override switch and keep it well-guarded all night so she could woo him back into her arms.

  “Do you know how to walk in heels?” Amber asked.

  Jen rolled her eyes. “Yes. And I know how to give a sexy hip sway thing, too.”

  “I taught her,” Mandy said.

  “Lord have mercy on Rob!” Amber clapped gleefully. “And remember, princess, not tomboy. Channel your inner girly-girl. Or better yet, channel mine. She won’t steer you wrong. Every man with a dick is going to notice you when you enter the room. You won’t go home single.”

  A sudden rush of gratitude made Jen blink back tears. “Thanks, guys.”

  “Blink!” Amber scrambled for tissue, and Mandy began fanning Jen’s eyes with her hands.

  “Don’t let them fall!” Mandy said in a panic.

  Jen started to laugh, rolling back on the couch.

  “No!” Amber and Mandy screamed. “Your hair!”

  Jen froze, pulled up from her backward roll before her hair touched the cushions.

  The women descended, making sure her makeup and hair was still okay while she glanced down at her phone which lit up with another voicemail from someone she assumed wanted into one of her late summer excursions now that she was no longer a prime suspect. But still no Rob. Where was he?

  “You guys live like this every day?” Jen asked when they’d finished doctoring her.

  “No, are you nuts?” Amber rolled her eyes. “This is DEFCON one-thousand, do or die. And there is no need to thank us. This is what friends are for. What they do for each other.”

  “But I can’t reciprocate.”

  “Friends do this for each other,” Amber emphasized. “Because they care. Because we’re friends. And dear Lord, if you ever come do my makeup…hell, please don’t reciprocate.”

  “Hey!”

  “This is calling for more than a splash of blush and mascara, Jen.”

  “It’s about time you let us help you,” Mandy said.

  Jen looked up at the two women. “I just never felt I had anything to offer back.”

  “Crazy girl,” Amber said with a laugh. “Don’t you know what friendship is about?”

  Jen gave Amber a quick hug.

  “It’s not easy feeling as though you might be in debt to others,” Mandy said, looking away.

  “Are things okay with your restaurant?” Jen asked, knowing Mandy had to borrow from a lot of people to open her business’s doors and almost hadn’t made it. It had to be hard owing that many people money. But instead of running when it looked as though failure was closing in, Mandy had upped her game. Each and every time. And won. She got what she wanted. It was a lesson that hadn’t gone unnoticed by Jen.

  “Pretty good.” Mandy smiled. “I have almost half the micro business loans paid off.”

  “Serious?”

  Mandy gripped Jen’s arm. “Don’t bail if you think you’re going to lose. Not on this one. I’ve seen the way Rob looks at you. Promise me you’ll hold on. Don’t quit on him. Push past when you think you’ve lost. He needs you to fight for him. He’s strong, but he’s spooked.”

  Jen swallowed hard, remembering the moment in the square only a year ago when she’d confessed to Mandy, who was worried about losing the brownie competition at the Fall Fair, that she always bailed before she lost. That way, it wasn’t really losing.

  Mandy had obviously listened.

  “I promise,” Jen said, her body tightening at the idea of having to stick it through.

  “And keep your head high. The whole night. No matter what,” Amber added. “Don’t give him the satisfaction of running you off.”

  “You think he will run me off?”

  “I don’t know,” Amber said with a grim look that did everything but instill confidence in Jen. “But it’s always best to be prepared for the worst.”

  * * *

  There he was.

  Seeing Rob in casual, outdoor gear was knee-weakening enough, but seeing him in a tuxedo left had Jen entirely unprepared for her body’s over-the-top response. Her heart acted in irregular, unpredictable ways and gave her an unquenchable drive that would have propelled her across the small church in a matter of seconds if she wasn’t packed between two large aunts who looked as though they’d sit on her if she tried to move toward the front of the chapel and cause problems.

  She couldn’t believe Mandy and Amber thought she’d be going home with this man.

  But he wasn’t just a man today. He was a chunk carved out of the surface of Venus. Her dreams and desires all in one steamy hot package.

  Dina knew what she was doing when she dressed the groomsmen. His tux fell off him in a way that accented the width of his shoulders, the tightness of his waist and his blue bow tie brought out the blue sparkles in his blue-gray eyes. And that smile…that smiled he was beaming around the assembled group as he waited for his sister to come wed the love of her life, it was like a beacon. A beacon aimed into the front row. To a woman with hair piled up into perfect ringlets. A woman who wasn’t Jen.

  Jen gripped the pew in front of her, hoping Rob was simply trying to reassure a cousin. Or his mother. Maybe Clare had changed her hair color. Or maybe it was a long-lost sister or...

  Not a date.

  Not a date.

  Not a date.

  Dina breezed by, glowing. She strode to the front of the chapel and said her vows before Jen could process Rob and the other woman or get her breathing back under control. Then Dina was running down the aisle with Don, and Jen she was being pushed out of the pew by a large bosom, watching the bride and groom zoom away.

  Moments later, tucked in her car, she hunched over her phone, dialing Amber.

  “I think he has a date.”

  “What?!” The indignation spewing from Amber calmed Jen.

  “I lost sight of him in front of the chapel so I couldn’t tell for sure, but he was smiling at someone in the front row.”

  “His mother?”

  “Not his mother.”

  “Aunt? Grandmother? The reve
rend’s wife?”

  “No.”

  “What kind of smile?”

  She sighed. “The kind I want.”

  “Shit.” Amber paused. “Don’t claim defeat. You don’t want this guy to become the ‘what if’ regret of your life. You’ve got to talk to him. It’s DEFCON time, Jen.”

  * * *

  Jen, relegated to the back corner of the reception hall for the meal and speeches, tried to storm up a plan that would get Rob away from the impossibly tall woman with cleavage so she could talk to him. Cleavage which the woman been showing off in a very sexy, nontrampy way. The woman who, whenever Jen craned her neck just so, could see her all over Rob, laughing and touching his arm.

  Maybe facing the wall was a good thing. She wouldn’t gag on her meal if Rob happened to touch the woman back—which, so far, he hadn’t. Meaning she wouldn’t cry into her flute of champagne—which, so far, she hadn’t.

  “You look like Marilyn Monroe!” announced the woman sitting across from Jen. It was one of the large ladies she’d been sandwiched between at the church. The way the two women had been talking, Jen figured they were both hard of hearing as well as sisters. The woman nudged her sister. “Doesn’t she, Laura?”

  “I don’t see it,” the sister said, leaning away from the nudging.

  Jen groaned. How was she going to talk to Rob when she hadn’t managed to get close enough to even make eye contact? She had to find a way to talk to him. Twirl her dress. Bat her heavily mascaraed eyes. Apologize for everything.

  She just about rubbed her face before remembering her makeup.

  “How do you know the bride and groom?” one of the sisters asked.

  “I know Dina.”

  “How?” asked Rusty, the man to her right, leaning close enough she could feel his damp beer breath on her bare shoulder.

  “Through work.” She struggled not to lean away.

  “Are you a receptionist, too?”

  “No, I um, met her through my work.”

  All eyes were on her.

  “What do you do, dear?”

  “I’m a nature guide.” Jen turned to see if she could spot Rob.

  “That Jen?” one of the women said in a tone that made her turn back to the table. The woman laid her hands flat on the table, studying Jen as though one might study an alien.

  Being recognized as that Jen was never good. That Jen ran away from home. That Jen lived with her boyfriend in high school. That Jen burned down the forest. Now she was probably that Jen in relation to Rob and his job problems.

  “No,” argued the other sister. “Look at her.” She pointed to Jen. “This woman is Marilyn Monroe. She doesn’t get grubby in the woods.”

  “Halsa said—”

  “She doesn’t know diddly squat.”

  Rusty leaned closer. “I’m single, too.” He glanced to the empty chair beside her.

  “I never said I was.”

  “Well, are you?”

  “Temporarily,” Jen admitted grudgingly as he came closer. She eased away, tempering the body language with a smile.

  “My nephew has a thing for that Jen,” the one sister said, the woman beside her nodding in agreement. “Talked about her a lot a few weeks back.”

  Okay, maybe that Jen would be an okay person to be. She waited for the woman to pause in her chatting so she could pump her for information, but by the time she paused, the moment was gone.

  Jen excused herself to go powder her nose—possibly literally—so she could reassess and plan. She needed out of Social Siberia so she could get close to Rob. And soon. She was losing courage.

  He’d told her she needed to figure things out and then she’d been the one who got him in trouble at work. Had he decided to cut bait and go home with someone else?

  Spinning on her heel, she exited the hall, flopping herself into a cushy armchair in the large entry. She wanted to go home. She’d never been the kind of girl to wedge herself between a man and another woman, even if it was over the first man she’d ever truly wanted in a way that made her bones tingle. The thing was, either he wanted her or he didn’t, right? Case closed.

  And he was here with someone else. Dina wouldn’t have held back the fact that she was coming. Dina had wanted the two of them together. But maybe Jen was only a backup plan for the girl he was with today. Maybe Dina had set that up, too.

  She was so confused.

  Should she stay for another hour with her head held high and then go home? Or did she stay and talk to Rob so Amber and Mandy wouldn’t hold this against her well into old age?

  Rusty waved a glass of wine in front of her. She blinked, realizing he’d brought it out into the foyer for her. How sweet. Too bad he was about twenty years out of her ideal man age range. She accepted the drink with a thanks, and took a big glug.

  If only it was the smoothness of rum to wash away the rain showers that were flooding her heart.

  Rusty patted her back. “That’s a good girl. Drink your worries away. Weddings are hard for the young and single. But don’t worry, a pretty thing such as yourself won’t stay single for long.”

  Jen stared at him as realization dawned. She hadn’t left soon enough. She’d lost. The aunts were probably already spreading this gossip as fast as water running over a dried-up creek bed. She was that girl. The pathetic girl who was still chasing after a man who didn’t want her and had moved on. And here she was at his sister’s wedding about to make a scene. She needed to leave. Now.

  Mandy’s words coursed through her mind, and she broke out into a mild sweat. Promise me you’ll hold on. Don’t quit on him. Push past when you think you’ve lost.

  This was where she was supposed to push on.

  She could do it. She’d talked to her parents after all these years, hadn’t she? She could go have fun and leave with her head held high without making a scene, right? Right.

  Music had begun thudding into the sitting area, and Jen handed Rusty the empty glass. “Thanks, I think I’ll dance now.” She spun out of her chair and into the hall before Rusty could offer his services, and spotting the first single-looking man in her approximate age group, grabbed him by the hand and spun him out onto the dance floor.

  Just because she’d been stuck in Social Siberia all night it didn’t mean she had to enjoy the scenery. She was free. Single. And all dolled up. The best way to make a man regret what he didn’t know he’d lost was to flaunt it. Flaunt it real good.

  The man she’d snagged from the crowd was a damn fine dancer, and he spun her out so fast her skirt flew up. Laughing, she had to push it back down. She hadn’t chosen her undergarments based on making those kinds of moves.

  The song ended, and Rob, who had been spending the song on the opposite end of the dance floor, took off, leaving Super Flirt Barbie behind.

  Opportunity was knocking.

  She thanked her partner and hurried after Rob. By the time she hit the entry’s foyer, it was empty. A moment later, he appeared from one of the hallways, running a hand through his longish hair—totally a sexy look on him—and looked at her with a mixture of hesitation, longing, and something else that left nasty feelings deep down inside.

  She took a small step toward him as if he were a woodland creature that might be frightened off if she moved too fast.

  “Can I talk to you a minute?” she called as he turned away, swallowing hard. “It’s important.”

  He didn’t move away, and she carefully moved to his side, took his hand, and pulled him to a loveseat. She kept a grip on his hand, her tanned leg pressed into his like an advance warning system should he flinch in order to flee.

  “Please let go of me,” he said. He looked incredibly uncomfortable. Was she making a scene? Holding onto a man who had come with a date who was someone other than herself?

  Probably.

  “I can’t,” she said, squeezing his hand tighter.

  His shoulders remained tight, but he didn’t pull away.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what hap
pened with your job.” His jaw was clenched and she resisted the urge to say that she’d told him so and that it hadn’t been her fault.

  Her breathing grew ragged, his woodsy male scent making her body want to move closer, but the fear within her urging her to stay far away.

  He faced her full on, his gaze digging into her. “I don’t know who I got demoted for. Who you are.”

  Jen felt her jaw slacken. Her voice shook as she said, “You lost it for a girl who likes you. A lot.”

  He shook his head, his eyes pure gray. “Why would you tell everyone we’d been together all weekend when you told me not to tell anyone we’d kissed? Why Jen? Why would you do that to me? You knew as well as I did what that could do to us. My career. Your case.”

  “Scott asked for an alibi, and I couldn’t lie. I’m sorry.”

  “I got demoted, Jen. You know how humiliating that was? I didn’t get paid for the investigation I did on Raspberry Creek. I’ve been isolated in the woods for the past week and a half, and I had to beg to get time off to come to my sister’s wedding.”

  He leaned closer again, his eyes steel. “I trusted you.”

  She let go of his hand, anger taking hold. “And I trusted you. You were an active party in this, too, you know. It wasn’t all me so don’t you try and push all the guilt on me. You know the heart of me. You’ve seen it.”

  He tipped his head back, a sharp laugh bubbling out. “I don’t know squat about you other than you obviously have issues or enjoy playing head games. You pull me in, you push me away. When I heard about the Woodchuck fire, all I could think was that maybe you were playing me. Acting like an innocent victim in all of it.”

  “I was an innocent victim.” She lowered her voice. “I didn’t use you, Rob. And for your information, I was found to be innocent in all of it. They found the man who started those fires.”

  Rob swallowed. She could see him recalculating things in his mind, holding onto the anger. “You made such a big friggin’ deal about how to put out a fire on the canoe trip, Jen. Jesus. How could I not suspect you when you were in the same park that caught on fire—again.”