Always For You (Always Love Book 1) (4 page)

But it wasn’t an easy transition to make. When I’d casually asked Maureen if she’d like to go out to eat, she’d said yes—and then invited three of our other friends to join us. That scenario repeated itself until I nearly gave up. I was almost convinced that she was trying to let me down easy because she didn’t see me as any more than a friend.

On the commons that day, watching the sun play on her dark hair, I frowned at what she’d just said. “What do you mean? This picnic was kind of your idea, wasn’t it?”

She lifted one shoulder. “I guess. But still, y’all didn’t have to include me.”

I picked up her hand without thinking. “Reenie, don’t be ridiculous. You
are
us. Why would you think you aren’t?”

For a minute, she was very still. Her hand was still in mine, and I realized she was staring at it like I’d closed her fingers around a snake. When she raised her eyes to look at me, there was something in them I couldn’t read.

“I guess I’m not used to being part of the in-crowd.” One side of her mouth curved up. “It probably sounds silly to you, but you’re all so smart and funny. Sometimes I wonder why you bother spending time with me.”

“Uh, because you’re cool, Maureen. And you’re the nicest person I know. We all like you.” What I hoped she might pick up from those words was the fact that
I
really liked her.

If she did, I couldn’t tell it by her face. “That’s so sweet. Thank you.”

For the next ten minutes, we’d sat in silence, watching our friends play and laugh, our hands still touching. It had been my favorite memory of freshman spring.

We’d had countless other near-misses over the rest of our college years. I hadn’t lost hope, though, until that Saturday night in our senior year . . .

I shoved that memory away. Some things were best forgotten.

And anyway, here I was less than five miles from seeing Maureen again. The thick pines I’d been driving past for two hours were giving way to open fields of green. I spotted a large farm stand with a bunch of cars parked in front of it and per the instructions of my GPS, turned left at the next intersection, taking the road that would lead into town.

Houses began to appear more frequently, mostly older homes spaced a distance from each other. I wondered if they’d been farms that had been parceled out over the years to builders for newer construction, since some seemed to be much older. Most were painted white, with tall chimneys, wide wraparound porches and small gardens.

A few miles down the road, the voice on my phone announced that my destination would be on the left in one hundred feet. I slowed and turned down a long driveway that led to a large yellow house with white shutters, bordered on the front by a neat picket fence. A dark blue pickup truck was just coming to a stop alongside the house as I rolled up.

The driver’s side door swung open, and a woman slid to the ground. Her black hair was up in a ponytail that swung as her feet hit the gravel drive. The past rushed forward at the moment I saw her face and recognized Maureen.

She’d changed a little. Her cheeks had thinned some, and I might’ve been mistaken, but it seemed like her curves were . . . curvier. Worn jeans clung to her hips, and a black T-shirt accented her chest. I’d never been much of a boob man—legs were what killed me—but Maureen’s rack was exactly right, the perfect counter-point to her waist and butt. I remembered with sudden and unexpected clarity what she’d looked like in cut-off shorts and a tank top the last time we’d been together, and that memory made it a tad uncomfortable to stay seated here in the cramped seat of my car.

She’d heard me pull up, and now she turned, her forehead wrinkled and eyes wary. Of course, she wouldn’t recognize my car, since we’d never talked about what I drove, and I’d only given her a vague idea of when I planned to arrive. Any woman living alone out here would be concerned to see a strange car pull into her drive. I reached for the handle of my door and climbed out, stretching with a groan.

“Smith?” Her expression morphed from puzzled frown to glad recognition, and I was struck with a sharp pang at just how much I’d missed this girl. The way her entire face lit up with joy, nothing held back . . . I remembered now that our friends had always teased her about wearing her heart on her sleeve. “If Maureen feels it, we all see it!” But there was something so refreshing and real about her, and that had always been part of her attraction.

But only part. I couldn’t help noticing that the rest of the package had only gotten more beautiful, too.

“God, Maureen. You’re even more gorgeous than I remembered.” I pulled her into a hug, because hugs were perfectly acceptable when two old friends met again, right? The fact that I was intensely aware of her breasts crushing against my chest and the heat of her body at every spot it touched mine was just an added benefit.

“You’re crazy.” She squeezed me, her arms wound around my neck, and then stepped back. “I just got home from the clinic. I’m a mess.”

I shook my head. “Nope. You’re the same knock-out who almost knocked me out the first day of college. Remember that?”

“Of course I do. Thanks for bringing that up. And you’re the same old flirt you always were.” She shook her head, but I noticed her cheeks had gone pink. She liked the same old flirt, apparently.

“Hey, I only call ‘em as I see ‘em.” I let my hand trail down her arm and was rewarded by what I thought might be a little shiver.

She rubbed her hands on her jeans-covered thighs. “Why’re we standing out here? Let’s go inside, and I’ll show you around your new home.” She turned to lead the way, giving me an enticing view of the way her jeans snugly fit her ass.
Oh, baby.

“You have your own entrance from the outside, but I’ll take you up this way now.” Maureen climbed the few steps to a screen door and opened it before unlocking the interior knob. We walked into a large, open kitchen with appliances that looked like they came from at least fifty years before. Maureen dropped her keys on the worn table and glanced back at me.

“Want something to drink? Or eat? You must be hungry. How far did you drive today? And how the hell are you walking after being crammed in that little car for over a thousand miles?”

I laughed. “Yeah, something to drink would be great. Nothing to eat yet, thanks. I hit the last drive-through I saw before I got off the highway. I drove from Richmond, so about five hundred miles. It wasn’t too bad.”

“Sounds like about four hundred and fifty miles too far for me.” Her gaze wandered over my shoulder to check out my ride again, through the window. “That’s a beautiful car, Smith. I never knew you were into antique autos.”

“It was a hobby the last few years. I found her at an auction when I was there with friends, and it was love at first sight.” I let that phrase hang out there for a minute. “I didn’t know a damn thing about restoring her, but I found some books, looked up a ton of videos and found this old guy in my neighborhood who held my hand during some of the dicey stuff.” I paused. “Held my hand, figuratively speaking. Not literally.”

“I got it.” She grinned, and her eyes danced. “Well, you did a good job, especially if she made this trip. I’m surprised you didn’t have it shipped. That’s a lot of miles to put on a vintage car.”

I rolled my eyes. “You sound like my brother. He was nagging at me until I pulled away.” I shrugged. “But she held up like a champ. And I don’t want to have a car just for show. That’s insane. It’s got to be functional, too.”

Maureen lifted one eyebrow. “I agree. So I’m a little surprised a vet would drive a—ohhhh.” She nodded. “You’re the vet driving the ‘Vette. I see.”

The way she said it, with barely concealed humor, made me feel a little foolish. “I didn’t do it for that. I didn’t even think of that until after I bought it and Fox was so kind to point it out.”

“Ah, Fox. How’s he doing? Did he ever go into politics?” Maureen had met my older brother when he’d come to visit us at school.

I hesitated. “No. Not yet, anyway, and maybe not at all. He’s married, got two kids—they’re pretty cute—and I think he’s put politics on the back burner for a while.”

“Hmm. Well, I’m glad he’s happy. Do you like his wife?”

“Oh, yeah, she’s great. I’ve known her forever, so she’s almost like a sister. She keeps in touch with me better than Fox does.”

“That’s cool. My brother got married last year, too. Came back to town and ended up with his high school girlfriend. I guess happy endings still happen sometimes.” She reached for the door to the refrigerator. “So. What’ll it be? I’m not completely stocked yet, but I’ve got beer, water and orange juice.” She bent over and peered inside, as though she expected something else to appear.

“A beer would be just about perfect right now.” I cocked a hip against one of the linoleum countertops.

Maureen emerged from the fridge with two bottles and with easy dexterity that made me grin, slid them under the edge of the counter to remove the tops. I lifted one eyebrow.

“Smooth, Evans.”

That blush came back. “Yeah, some things never change, huh? My one talent. Being able to open beer bottles.” She handed me mine and held out the neck of her own. “To . . . old friends. And good memories.”

I met her eyes and held them, hoping she’d feel my meaning. “To old friends, together again. And to a good future.”

She blinked, once, and bit the corner of her lip. “I’ll drink to that.”

We each took a long swig, and I glanced around us. “So tell me about this place. How’d you end up buying it?”

She grinned. “It was just one of those things. I was coming out of church with my mom, and we stopped to talk to Mrs. Walker. She told us she was getting ready to list her house, and I don’t know. Something clicked. I’d been thinking about moving out of my mother’s house for a while, but it never felt like the right time. This time, it did.” She took another drink of her beer. “But I couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t agreed to rent the upstairs, so I’m glad it worked out for both of us.”

“Me, too.” I peeled a little of the label away from the sweating bottle. “Having a ready-made place to live along with the partnership at the clinic definitely made this easier for me.”

We stood for a minute, just looking at each other. The past seemed very close, though I wasn’t certain if it was pulling us together or pushing us apart. I guessed time would tell.

Maureen abruptly set down her beer. “Okay. Let me give you the grand tour.”

She led me to the far end of the kitchen, where a door was tucked into a corner. “Like I said, you have your own private entrance.” She turned the knob and pulled, stepping onto a tiny landing area as she hooked one thumb behind her. “This is the outside access. And you see there’re locks on both sides of this door, so you can keep yours locked if it makes you more comfortable.”

“Reenie, seriously? I’m not worried. If you want to go upstairs and snoop around my private stuff, check out my collection of specialty underwear . . . be my guest.” I gave her a mock leer.

“Eww.” She faked a gag. “Suddenly I’m planning to keep
my
side of the door locked.”

I laughed. “Like that would keep me out.”

“And now I’m officially creeped out. You keep your skeevy underwear collection upstairs, bud.” She shot me a warning look and started up the narrow staircase. “So this house was originally built back in the late nineteenth century, as you can probably see. It was just one big home until Mrs. Walker’s youngest daughter got married, and she wanted to give the newlyweds a good start. So she had the upstairs turned into an apartment.”

“Huh.” We emerged from the enclosed staircase into an open room. “Why did Mrs. Walker decide to move? When you told me about this house over the phone, I thought maybe the former owner had, um, passed on.”

Maureen glanced at me over her shoulder. “Nope. The daughter and son-in-law she helped out by letting them live in this apartment are now doing very well and just built a huge new house on the other side of town. They didn’t want Mrs. Walker living alone, so they included a beautiful mother-in-law suite. She’s in heaven, yes—but hog heaven. Not the kind you have to be dead for.”

“Ah.” I looked around. “This is a lot bigger than I expected.”

“Yeah, it used to be five bedrooms and two bathrooms up here. They tore out one bathroom to put in the kitchen.” She pointed to a small partly-enclosed area at the far end of the room. “It’s not huge, but it’s functional, for sure. And since there’s a pass-through from the kitchen, you can put up a table and chairs to make your eating area.”

“Combo living-dining. I like it.” Stepping to the bank of windows, I leaned over to check out the scenery. “And a nice view here, too.” I turned in a small circle, taking it all in. “I think this is going to be perfect.”

“I hope so.” Maureen hugged her arms around her ribs. “My mom was not exactly jazzed about me living by myself out here in the sticks, as she calls it. She was so relieved to hear ‘that nice boy from Boston’ was going to be taking the apartment.”

“The nice boy from Boston, huh? Guess I have your mother fooled, anyway.” I winked at Maureen. “Seriously, Reen. This couldn’t have come at a better time. I’m so glad you called when you did.”

“I almost didn’t.” She regarded me from under her dark lashes. “I mean, we haven’t seen each other in four years. I didn’t know if you’d be interested in doing anything with me.”

Oh, the things I wanted to do with her . . .
I reined it in and gave her a gentle cuff on the shoulder. “I would’ve been damn pissed if I’d found out you offered this to someone else. Buying into the partnership, with a house ready-made to go along with it—what could be more perfect?” I took a step closer to her, testing the waters. “Plus, it’s you, Maureen. When have I ever been able to tell you no?”

Surprise and what I hoped was pleasure flitted over her face. “There you go with the flirt again. I’m shocked you’re still single with all those smooth moves.”

I lifted one shoulder. “Still waiting for the right one, I guess.”

“And she wasn’t in Boston?” A small smile played around her lips, teasing, but I noticed her hands were gripped together now. She was pretending it didn’t matter to her, but maybe it did. I could only hope.