by Jean Oram
She’d wanted to go home after that, and had skipped out on crashing the meeting between the two men. But she hadn’t been able to convince herself to leave, and had instead wandered the booths set up by conference vendors, half hoping and half afraid to bump into Burke. When everyone packed up for the day, she still hadn’t been able to leave the hotel, knowing she had to speak to Burke about Autumn before she headed back to Blueberry Springs.
“This is yours, I believe,” Tiffer said, placing the dossier on the bar beside her. She’d been here for forty-five minutes and still hadn’t ordered anything despite frequent enquires from the bartender. He kept his hand over it, watching her. “You all right?”
“Yes, thanks.”
“You sure?”
There was a genuine kindness in his expression and she felt choked up at his unexpected concern.
“How did the meeting go?” she asked.
“He walked out.”
“What?” Burke had walked out of the meeting? She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Angry? Proud? Worried?
“You haven’t seen him?” Tiffer seemed surprised when she shook her head. He placed a fifty-dollar bill in a shoe that was going around the room as part of a wedding celebration. The wedding party was why Jill had come into this bar tonight, and had last year, too. It was loud, full of life, and had very few people from the conference in it.
It was also the hotel bar that Burke was the most likely to choose of the three on the large property. The idea of him showing up sent butterflies romping through her stomach.
“Well,” Tiffer said, “Burke walking out is likely for the best. We wouldn’t have lasted long before one of us told the other to take a long hike off a short pier.”
She nodded in agreement, unsure what to say.
Tiffer tapped the dossier. “He’s lucky to have you.” He squeezed her shoulder as he stepped away. “Good luck to you both.”
“Thanks.”
There was no “both,” though. That was the problem. She tucked the file in her shoulder bag, knowing she and Burke would have to talk about Autumn at some point and decide whether they were going to press charges, and if so, which ones.
But what was really puzzling was why Burke had rejected Tiffer. On one level it didn’t surprise her. They weren’t a good fit. But on the other hand, there’d been so many sacrifices and he’d just thrown it all away.
She should get back in her car and head home, regroup, pull her life back together. If she left now she could be in Blueberry Springs in time to curl up in her pj’s and watch a movie with her dog.
She lowered her left hand to the bar, wishing she’d brought her leather bracelet. She’d left it at home, baring her wrist as a symbol to Burke. Stupid hope.
She was going to have to tell everyone she’d divorced him. Currently, only her family knew. But soon word would begin to travel, as it always did.
The bartender came by and Jill finally flagged him down for a drink and a burger which she knew wouldn’t be as juicy and all-around amazing like the one Amy and Moe made back in Blueberry Springs.
“Tequila’s on the house as part of the wedding celebration,” the bartender said, after he put in her food order. He gestured to the party going on behind her as he set her up with the shot, lemon wedge and salt. He was peering at her like he should know her. “You were here last year, weren’t you?”
“I was.”
“You got engaged.”
“I suppose I did.”
“Just over there.” He smiled as though enjoying the memory. “Did you get married?”
“That night.”
“Wow.” He chuckled. “And?”
“Divorced.”
He winced, and the sympathy in his eyes made her heart ache. Jill licked the back of her hand, then sprinkled it with salt. Morosely, she ran her tongue over the grains before knocking back the tequila and sucking on the lemon wedge. The last time she’d had a shot of tequila was at this bar with Burke.
It looked like her drive home was going to be delayed.
That had been a stupid move.
Spontaneity still wasn’t her friend, was it?
Her sister’s words roamed through her head, about how our mistakes bring us to the place we’re supposed to be. She had gone full circle, hadn’t she? Same bar, one year later. But this time there was no Burke beside her as the wedding celebration went on behind her.
“Take it easy tonight, okay?” the bartender said as he took away her empty shot glass.
“Always.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Okay, so last year I went home married.”
“So did I,” said a deep voice from behind her. A masculine hand pointed to her wrist as shivers rippled up her spine. “Nice tattoo. I have one just like it.”
Jill breathed Burke’s name, her heartbeat stuttering.
“Jill.”
The bartender gave her a secret smile, and passed a few more shots their way.
Jill sent him a questioning look and he simply shrugged, as if to say “Hey, it worked last year.”
“On the house,” Jill whispered, as Burke turned to her. He didn’t touch his shot. She didn’t touch hers, either. This year she wasn’t going home married.
“I heard you refused Tiffer’s offer?”
Burke knocked his shot back without touching the salt or lemon. If she recalled correctly, he’d done the same last year, too. “He’s not the kind of man I want to work with,” he stated.
“I thought he was your company’s big hope?”
“He wouldn’t treat my employees right. And he made me realize a lot of things. As did that file you left with him.”
Jill hadn’t really expected Tiffer to share it with Burke, and she wasn’t sure what to say. In her peripheral vision she saw Burke turn on his stool so he was facing her.
“I want to work with someone who cares about me, my business, my employees. So much so that they’d shoot their own foot off before mine.”
“Wow,” she said. That sure wasn’t Tiffer.
“Our business partnership was good,” Burke said, and she knew he was referring to his and hers. “That mess with the reviews and press scared me. It became a catalyst and gave me a reason to pull away and give in to my fears. Because I care for you, and that made me vulnerable. I don’t like being vulnerable.”
Jill held her breath for a second, his words giving her hope. “What are you saying?”
“Would you consider partnering your botanicals with my business again?”
She shook her head, knowing that wasn’t what she wanted, wasn’t where she was now heading.
“I’m sorry I blew it then,” he said, his eyes filled with a sadness she wanted to erase.
“You didn’t.”
“I didn’t trust you.”
“No, I didn’t trust myself. Or you, either.”
Burke’s tone became professional. “What can I offer to convince you to bring your products back to STH? We won’t be working with Tiffer, but we’ve recently signed new partnership contracts with local businesses that has gotten the team excited. I think some of our marketing efforts could really help your botanicals as well.”
“It’s not that,” Jill said, shaking her head. “I recently realized something important about myself. My passion is in organizing. It bugs me when things are out of place—remind me to tell you about Don and his reindeer cup back when I worked at the town office.” She shook her head, regaining her focus. “What I discovered was that I’m good at putting systems into place. But I don’t enjoy the pressure of making them work.”
“I don’t follow.”
“I’d rather put a system in place to keep someone’s closet organized than be there all the time making sure they used it. I like the idea of having a business and expanding it, and being this amazing businessperson. But it stresses me out trying to make it happen.”
Burke was watching her. “Sell me your company.”
“What?”
“I’ll take over, but you’ll still receive a healthy chunk of the royalties.”
She shook her head. “I’ve partnered with Rebecca’s son, Joseph. He’s doing all the stuff that stresses me out, and I do all the stuff I love. He’s a full partner, so I’ll have to talk to him.”
Burke’s jaw had gone tight.
The mariachi band was been moving around the bar, serenading couples, and they paused by Jill and Burke. A fatherly looking fellow with a giant smile stopped, took one look at them and said, “You two are lovers?”
“Uh…” Jill glanced at Burke. “We were.”
“You still care for each other, yes?”
She felt a small smile escape.
“Ah, yes. You two are meant to be.” As the band played a melodic love song, the man wrapped a cord loosely around Burke and Jill, forming a figure eight. It was a lasso. “Now your futures are intertwined,” he told them simply. Eyes twinkling, he dropped one end of the cord, freeing them, before moving on.
“Somehow I always thought Cupid would be taller,” Burke murmured, causing Jill to giggle.
Burke had shifted in his seat to face her better. “Jill?”
She hesitated, then turned, the space between them disappearing as he slid forward and wrapped his arms around her. Nervous energy built inside her as she waited for him to speak.
“I missed you,” he said. “And I’m sorry.”
She placed her hands on either side of his face, breathing him in, her forehead pressed against his. This was the first step. The one to their happily ever after.
They had work to do as a couple, but she didn’t doubt that they could accomplish it if they stuck together.
“I missed you, too.”
He kissed her, slowly and sweetly. He tasted like tequila and memories of happiness. She wanted that again. The spontaneity of not knowing what the next day was going to bring for them. She’d trusted in that part of her that wanted to have it all, that felt strong enough to break away from who she’d always thought she was. The part that believed she could reach for happier times.
“Can I take a risk?” he asked.
“I think you just did, by kissing your ex-wife.”
“Can I ask you out on a date?”
Her heart sang. “Yes.”
“Will you go to supper with me?”
“As long as it’s not at MacKenzie’s. Not after what happened last time.”
“But MacKenzie’s was fun.”
“Fun?” Mortifying was more like it. She’d lost such control in that heady kiss.
“I’ve never been kissed like that before.”
“Really?” She liked the idea of him charting new territory with her, and of being able to knock him off his feet.
“Have you?” he asked.
“Only by you.”
He gave a satisfied sound of approval.
The burger she’d ordered earlier arrived and Burke glanced at it. “I was thinking we could go out to eat tonight, but it looks like I’m too late.”
“We can share.”
He kissed her again, and she didn’t in the least bit mind that her burger was getting cold.
When they broke apart, she whispered, “Kissing isn’t going to fix everything, or sweep our problems away, you know.”
“I tend to approach things wrong from start to finish.”
“I know. You didn’t even buy me a ring.”
He chuckled. “I love you, you know that?”
She pulled back to look at him. The way he’d said it, it was like a passing comment and not what it should be: a life-changing proclamation.
“I really do,” he said soberly. “And that scares me beyond belief. I’m really hoping that tonight we can talk. Figure out how to figure out what’s real and what’s—”
“We’ll do all of that. And as for what’s real…” She kissed him with longing. “This is real. And it always will be.”
This was a new beginning, and it would be even better than the last one. They just had to trust and let go. Something she knew they could do. Together.
With a groan, Burke reached out to silence his buzzing phone.
“Burke?” He felt someone stir in the bed behind him, and glanced back to find Jill smiling at him. He rolled over and kissed her, taking his time and enjoying every moment.
“So we remarried?” he asked in a husky voice. Last night was a blur. Dancing. Laughing. Kissing. Lots of kissing.
Jill pointed over his shoulder. There was a top hat sitting on the bureau on the other side of the room, as well as a bridal veil. “I think that’s a good sign we did.”
“Tequila, Mexican weddings and us.” He frowned. “Why does my hip hurt?” Burke twisted to take a peek. The skin there was red, and tattooed with a blue puzzle piece.
Jill laughed.
He craned his neck. “I remember everything this time. Even this puzzle piece.” If he recalled correctly, it fitted perfectly with the tattoo on Jill’s hip. She rolled over, exposing her own new artwork, just under where the waistband of her panties would come if she was wearing any. Her puzzle piece did indeed interlock with his.
“Nice. That’s actually rather naughty.”
“Is not!”
“But the truth is, they fit together. Like us.”
“Burke!” She was blushing.
“That must be why we had them tattooed out of sight this time.” He waggled his eyebrows, making her cover her face. So he rolled her over, peppering her with quick kisses until she was laughing, the best sound in the whole entire world.
Epilogue
Jill swished the skirt of the dress she’d bought out of the window display at Ginger’s bridal shop. Her friends had been right; it did look amazing on her. A bit much for her twin’s tenth wedding anniversary party, but seeing as the event combined their dual celebrations, it was perfect.
“Third time’s a charm!” she sang to Burke as she turned from the mirror in the Blueberry Springs community center’s back room.
“Who would have thought either of us would get married three times?”
“My last two husbands are my favorite.”
“That’s because they’re both me,” Burke replied smoothly, landing a quick kiss on her lips.
Jill smiled and hooked her arm through his as they marched out to the party being held in their honor.
Burke had agreed to press charges against Autumn, who’d been arrested for driving under the influence only a few days after the news of their remarriage hit the papers. It was also public knowledge that her father had turfed her out of the house and she’d been charged for stalking two different men—other than Burke.
The woman had big problems on top of taking an image of a rash off the internet and posting it as a valid review for one of Jill’s products, hiring someone to steal her identity—including her signature via signing for the flowers—then taking out money against Burke’s credit. That was on top of stalking and spying on Jill with the nanny cameras. All the info about We Win Your Love, their fake marriage—all the leaks had been from Autumn and Jill had provided it all through the cameras.
Everything had come out in a teary confession to Logan and Zach, who had confronted her at a black tie affair where an undercover agent had been recording her via a corsage given to her by Zach who’d posed as her date.
Jill was still happily working at Emma’s, and she and Joseph were in the final stages of negotiating a deal with Burke. She wasn’t sure who was the harder bargainer—Joseph or Burke. Jill loved it.
As well, a new friendship center had been designed by a local architect. Things were moving at long last, even though Jill wasn’t footing the bill. In fact, a government grant she’d applied for after returning from the Metro Conference had come through.
“Oh, I forgot something,” Burke said suddenly, halting in the doorway to the large hall, where their guests were turning to watch them enter.
“Burke!” Jill whispered, afraid he was about to head ba
ck to the staging room.
“I forgot something important,” he said to the room at large. He got down on one knee. “I forgot to propose.”
“We’re married,” Jill said, giggling.
“Jill Armstrong, will you marry me?” He was holding a thin, white-gold band that supported the most gorgeous and familiar looking line of small sapphires and diamonds.
“I already did. Twice,” she said, clearly so all could hear. Everyone in the room laughed. “But yes, I will marry you.”
He slid the jeweled ring on her finger and straightened. It looked even more fabulous as a gift from the man she loved.
“I figured you were never going to treat yourself, so I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind if I did.”
Off to her right, Jodi and Amy were standing with Burke’s aunt Maggie, and Jill heard all three of them heave a collective sigh.
“They’re so right for each other,” said Maggie.
“He just keeps on sweeping her away,” Amy said dreamily.
“You’re next,” Jodi said in a hushed voice.
“Moe? I don’t think so. I’m going to have to do something drastic and hire Ginger to find a match for me.”
“Shh!” Jodi said, “I don’t want to miss this. It’s like the end of the movie where everyone gets what they want.”
“Except for me,” Amy said.
Jill pulled her attention back to Burke. “But this isn’t a wedding band.”
She was only teasing, but he replied, “Since when do we ever do anything by the rules?”
She moved to head on into the room, but he stopped her. “I also forgot something else.”
Jill patiently tipped her head.
“A real wedding band,” he said, not revealing one.
“I thought we were being cheeky and only doing tattoos?” She displayed the one on her wrist, and Burke twisted his lips in a secret smile, knowing she was referring to their newer body art.
“We did. Twice. But…” He pulled his hand from his pocket, turning serious. “I want us each to have something more traditional, too.”