"Okay, we're done here. You wanna kick out the fire department, or shall I?"
"Get out, people!" Colleen yelled, and the various and sundry members of Manningsport's bravest started reaching for their wallets.
Hello. Bryce Campbell was there, too. He must've come in when she was with the girls. He was watching the fire department with an almost wistful look on his face. Boys. They never got over the thrill of their first shiny red truck.
Well, no time like the present.
"Hey, Bryce," she said, ambling over.
"Hi, Colleen." He looked at her and smiled, and yes, Paulie had a point. Bryce was cute. That wasn't news, but still.
"How's your dad?" Smiling Joe Campbell was one of Colleen's favorite patrons, though he hadn't been in much in the past year.
"He's great!" Bryce flashed another look at the MVFD, who were now filing out the door, laughing.
"You should join the fire department," she said.
"Yeah. I doubt my mom would approve of that. I might get hurt."
"You probably wouldn't, though. Their safety record is stellar, even if they are a bunch of goofballs." She took his empty glass and wiped the counter in front of him. "So, Bryce, you seeing anyone these days?"
He raised a friendly eyebrow. "You asking?"
"No."
"Right." He gave a mock grimace. "Nope, no one special. I wouldn't mind having a girlfriend, though."
This was going to be easier than she thought. "Really? What's your type?"
"Aside from you?" He winked.
"None of that, now. Answer the question."
"I don't know. Pretty. Kind of...pretty and nice and hot, you know? Like Faith Holland, except maybe taller and skinnier, and don't tell Levi I said that, okay?"
"Bryce Campbell. Looks aren't everything, you know." And if he had a problem with Faith--who was built like a 1940s pinup girl--she was going to have to tread carefully with Paulie. "How about personality?"
"Really outgoing. Like me, kind of. You know anyone?"
"Hmm. No one leaps to mind." Actually, four women leaped to mind, but Bryce was a typical man--he didn't know what he needed; he just knew what he liked. "But I'll think about it, okay?"
"Thanks, Coll! You're the best!"
"It's true. Now get out, we're closing."
Half an hour later, Colleen walked to the yellow-and-red Victorian she shared with her brother. A duplex, so it wasn't quite as dysfunctional as it sounded. Connor had left a little earlier, and the first-floor lights were out. Colleen's apartment was on the second floor--a staircase in the back led to a small deck and her door.
She wondered if this mystery woman of his had visited the house yet.
"It's all good," she murmured to herself as she opened her door. "After all, we have somebody to love, too. Right, Rufus?"
One hundred and sixty pounds of scruffy gray canine agreed. She allowed him to maul her, scratched his rough gray fur, gazed meaningfully into his eyes, and then extricated herself. "Who wants a cookie? Is it us? I want an Oreo, and you, my beautiful countryman, can have a Milk-Bone."
Some bozo had bought Rufus as a puppy, then, shocker, learned that the breed tended to get a wee bit large. But the idiot's loss was her gain, because, as Bryce Campbell had suspected, Rufus and Colleen were kindred spirits.
She called Rushing Creek and talked to Joanie, the night nurse in her grandfather's wing, and ascertained that Gramp was having a good night. Then, with a sigh, she got the snacks, made Rufus balance his cookie on his nose before allowing him to inhale it, then flopped down on the couch with the box of Oreos. Because really, no one had just one Oreo.
Love was in the air. It was all around her, as a matter of fact--Faith and Levi maybe percolating a baby; Honor and Tom getting married; Brandy and Ted now engaged. Paulie and Bryce (complicated on several levels...but maybe a chance for Colleen to do something good).
Connor and someone.
That one gave her the biggest pang. Granted, there'd been many times over the years when Colleen would've cheerfully sold Connor to the gypsies (and had, in fact, put him up for adoption when they were twelve and he announced the fact of her period in the cafeteria). When their parents went through their ugly, horrible, terrible divorce, she and Connor had become closer than ever. They often called or texted each other simultaneously. Saw each other every day.
It was strange, thinking of her twin married, a dad. She certainly wanted him happy, of course she did. It was just that she always pictured it in the happy, sunny future, in which she would have a great spouse and adorable tots.
But that picture always held a dreamlike quality, the image overexposed, as if the sun shone too brightly, and her husband's face was blurred.
Once, she'd known exactly who the face belonged to, and it hadn't been blurry at all.
Copyright (c) 2014 by Kristan Higgins
ISBN-13: 9781460340240
In Your Dreams
Copyright (c) 2014 by Kristan Higgins
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In Your Dreams Page 38