A Family Kind of Wedding (28 page)

Thirty minutes later she was reasonably presentable. She knew the only thing that would make her day livable was lots and lots of coffee. So she left her tiny rental house, pausing to give her newly planted flowers a quick watering before heading to Brew-haha.

Fool's Gold had grown in the ten years she'd been away. Giving walking tours of the city as a part-time job in high school meant she was familiar with the history and layout. She had a feeling the schedule of festivals she'd once memorized still existed in her brain. Probably stored next to all the words to Kelly Clarkson's “Since U Been Gone.”

The thought made her smile and, humming the song, she walked into Brew-haha.

The coffee place had been decorated simply, with bright colors and lots of places to sit. There was a long counter up front, a display of tempting, high-calorie pastries and a tall, broad-shouldered man at the front of a six-person line.

Maya froze, half in, half out of the store. Now what? She was going to have to face Del at some point. Thanks to Mayor Marsha, they would be working together. But she hadn't thought she would have to deal with him precoffee.

The downside to an otherwise perfectly lovely town
, she thought, sucking up her doubts and joining the line.

As Del finished placing his order, whatever he'd said had the cashier laughing. He moved over to wait for his order and immediately started talking to the barista.

Had he always been so friendly, Maya wondered, watching him, while trying to appear as if she
wasn't
paying attention at all. A trick that had her still-slightly sleepy self struggling to keep up.

The line moved forward. Several other customers stopped to talk to Del, greeting him and then pausing to chat.
No doubt catching up
, she thought. Del had grown up here. He would know a lot of people.

A few words of the conversations drifted to her. She caught bits about his skysurfing and the business he'd sold. Because when Del had left town, he'd not only gotten involved in a new and highly risky sport, he'd designed a board, founded a company, and then sold it for a lot of money. Which was impressive. And the tiniest bit annoying.

It wasn't that she didn't want him to have done great. But maybe he didn't have to be so good-looking at the same time as being so successful. Was a disfiguring scar too much to ask for? Something to level the playing field?

But no. With his three days' worth of beard and easy smile, he was still movie-star handsome. She would know. She'd seen plenty of him on video and he was impressive. The camera loved him and that meant the audience did, too.

She reached the front of the line and placed her order for the largest latte they had. She thought about ordering an extra shot of espresso, then acknowledged she would be most likely returning later. Better to spread out the caffeine.

She stepped to the side to wait for her drink. Del was still talking with a couple of people. She expected him to finish his conversation and leave. Instead he headed for her.

“Morning,” she said as he approached. Her lingering sleepiness faded as odd tingles began in her toes and raced up to the top of her head. Horror replaced trepidation.

No, no, no! There couldn't be tingles or awareness or any of that. Uh-uh. No way. Not her. She refused to be attracted to Delany Mitchell. Not after ten years and thousands of miles. The miles being metaphorical for her and literal for him. They were done. They'd moved on. Okay, technically she'd dumped him in a cruel and immature way, but regardless of her failings, it was so over as to be a relationship fossil.

Exhaustion, she told herself desperately. The tingles were the result of exhaustion. And maybe hunger. She would probably faint next and then everything would be fine.

“Morning,” he said as he stopped in front of her. “You ratted me out to my mother.”

The words were so at odds with what she'd been thinking that she had trouble understanding their meaning. When the mental smoke cleared, she was able to breathe again.

“You mean I told her you were in town?”

“Yeah. You could have given me fifteen minutes to get in touch with her.”

She smiled. “You never said it was a secret. I stopped by to see a friend and told her you were back. She was surprised.”

“That's one way to put it. She gave me an earful.”

The barista handed Maya her latte. Maya took it and started for the door. “If you're expecting me to feel guilty about that, it's so not happening. How could you not bother telling your mother you were coming home? I'm not the bad guy here.”

Del fell into step with her. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Is that what we're calling it these days?”

He held open the door for Brew-haha. When they got to the sidewalk, he pointed to the left and she walked along with him. Because, well—why not?

“You're saying I should have let her know I was home for the rest of the summer?”

“Speaking as your mom's friend, yes, you should have told her you were coming. Or that you'd arrived. And if you didn't want me to tell her, you should have said something. If she scolded you, it's your own fault. I accept absolutely no guilt or blame on the topic.”

He surprised her by laughing. “You always did have attitude.”

Back then it had been bravado. She liked to think she now had a little experience or even substance to back it up.

They reached the lake. Del turned toward the path that led to the rental cabins on the far side. Maya went with him. The day was sunny and promised to be plenty warm. August was often the hottest part of summer in Fool's Gold. Up in the mountains fall came early, but not in the town itself.

Along the shores of Lake Ciara, just south of the Golden Bear Inn, was a cluster of summer cabins. They ranged from small studios to large three-bedroom structures. Each cabin had a big porch with plenty of room for sitting out and watching the lake. There was a play area for the kids, a communal fire pit and easy walking access to Fool's Gold.

Del led the way to one of the smaller cabins. There was plenty of seating on a surprisingly large porch.

“Not a suite at Ronan's Lodge?” she asked, taking the chair he offered.

He settled next to her. “I spend enough time in hotels when I travel. This is better.”

“But there's no room service.”

He glanced at her, one brow raised. “You think I can't cook?”

It had been ten years, she thought. “I guess I don't know that much about you.”
Anymore
. She didn't say the last word, but she thought it. Because there had been a time when she'd known everything about Del. Not just his hopes and dreams, but how he laughed and kissed and tasted.

First love was usually intense. For her it had been that and more. With Del, for the first time in her life she'd allowed herself to hope she might not have to go it alone. That maybe, just maybe she could believe that someone else would be there for her. To look out for her. To give a damn.

“To start with, I can cook,” he said, drawing her back to the present. “There was a last-minute cancelation so I got the cabin.”

A couple of little boys played down by the water. Their mother watched from a blanket on the grass. Their shrieks and laughter carried over to them.

“It's going to be noisy,” she said.

“That's okay. I like being around kids. They don't know who I am, and if they do, they don't care.”

Some people would care
, she thought, wondering how difficult his version of fame had become.

He'd made a name for himself on the extreme sports circuit. Crazy downhill snowboarding stunts had morphed into skysurfing. He'd become the face of a growing sport with the press clamoring to know why anyone would jump out of a plane with a board attached to their feet and deliberately spin and turn the whole way down.

After a few years of being a media darling, he'd made yet another change, designing a better board, and then starting the company that built them. That move had made him more mainstream—at least for the business crowd—and he'd become a popular guest on business shows. When he'd sold the company—walking away with cash and no announcing what he would do—he'd become the stuff of legends. A daredevil willing to take life on his own terms.

She'd wanted that once. Not the danger, but the being famous part. It would have been one of the perks of being in front of the camera instead of behind it. For her it hadn't been about money or getting a reservation at a popular restaurant. It had been about belonging. That if others cared about her, she must have value. Be worthy, in some small way.

Time and maturity had helped her see the fallacy of that argument, but the hollowness of needing it had never completely gone away. With that dream over, she would have to find another way to make peace with her past.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing. I'm getting way too philosophical for this early in the morning.” She sipped her coffee. “So you're back for the rest of summer and you're going to be helping me with the promo videos. I appreciate that.”

He gave her a look that implied he wasn't buying that.

“I do,” she repeated. “You'll be a great host.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

He studied her. “I'm back because my dad's turning sixty and I haven't seen my family in a while. What are you doing here?”

A direct question. She decided on a direct answer. “I was tired of what I was doing. I'd made my third and what will be my final attempt at a network job.” She drew in a breath. “The truth is I don't translate well on camera. On paper, I should be exactly right. I'm attractive enough and intelligent enough and warm enough, and yet it simply doesn't work. Going back to producing hard news was an option, but I couldn't get excited about it. I was visiting my stepbrothers and while I was here, Mayor Marsha approached me about the job. I said yes.”

The offer had been unexpected, but she hadn't taken long to accept. Getting out of LA had been appealing and being close to family had felt right. She never considered that Del would be coming back.

She glanced at him from under her lashes. Would that have made a difference? She told herself it wouldn't have. He was only home for a few weeks. She could manage to hold it together for that long. Besides, the tingling was probably a onetime thing. A knee-jerk reaction to an unexpected visit from her past.

Del had been her first love. Of course there would be residual emotions. Knowing him, caring about him, had changed her forever.

“About the videos,” she said.

“You have lots of ideas.”

“How did you know?”

He looked at her, his dark eyes bright with amusement. “You always did and you were forceful with your opinions.”

“That's not a bad thing.”

“I agree. You told me what they were, then explained why I was an idiot if I didn't listen to you.”

She sipped her coffee. “I doubt I said
idiot
,” she murmured.

“You were thinking it.”

She laughed. “Maybe.”

She had been forceful and determined. Instead of finding her annoying, Del had encouraged her to explain herself. He'd wanted to know what she was thinking.

“You had some good ideas to improve the tours,” he said. “I'm sure you'll have good ideas about the videos. Of course I have some experience with the medium myself.”

He could have acted like a bastard, she thought, remembering how things had ended. Of course if he'd still been angry, he would have refused to work with her.

“Challenging my authority?” she asked lightly.

“We'll see.”

She glanced at her watch. “I need to get to work.” She suggested a day and time for their first official meeting, then stood and walked back toward town.

Partway down the path, she had the urge to turn back. To see if Del was watching her. When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw he wasn't. He'd gone inside.

Foolishness
, she told herself. Just like the tingles. If she ignored it, it would go away. At least that was the plan.

Copyright © 2015 Susan Mallery Inc.

ISBN: 9781459294806

A Family Kind of Wedding

Copyright © 1998 by Lisa Jackson.

All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

www.Harlequin.com