The Goodbye Bride (20 page)

Eden's gaze drifted around the restaurant. “It doesn't seem to be hurting business any. And he wouldn't be doing it if he didn't care.”

Lucy couldn't think about him caring. He'd made it clear he wanted nothing more to do with her. He was just too softhearted for his own good. Too softhearted to leave her at the reporters' mercy, too softhearted to leave her at her own mercy after the concussion. She had to stop confusing compassion with love.

“Maybe you should think about staying here at the Roadhouse until they're gone,” Eden said.

Lucy's eyes met Eden's. She'd told her friend about their kiss and the way Zac had pushed her away. Even now, the memory of his rejection made her want to curl up in a corner.

“No,” Lucy said. “I need to get out of here. For both our sakes.”

Eden gave her a heartfelt smile. “You still don't remember anything?”

“Not a single thing. I wish it would come back though. All of it. Then maybe I'd be as over Zac as he is over me.”

Eden tilted her head, giving Lucy a thoughtful look. “Did you ever think that maybe God brought you back together for a reason? I mean, amnesia . . . what are the chances? Maybe it's all part of His plan to get you two back together.”

“Well, if it is, He failed to inform Zac. It takes two to tango, you know.”

“Maybe he's just not listening for the music. We should pray about that. Or, as my daddy says, ‘time to wear out the knees in those jeans.' ”

Lucy smiled through the prick of guilt. When was the last time she'd really prayed about anything? Maybe that was how her life had gotten so out of whack.

Eden looked as if she wanted to say something, but their drinks arrived and the moment passed. They made small talk once their food arrived, glancing at the TV whenever the crowd cheered or gave grunts of disapproval. Their server passed by with a seafood platter, and the tantalizing aroma wafted her way.

As Megan brought the bill, Nick entered with a couple of friends. He waved at Eden and Lucy as they ordered drinks, then they proceeded to the poolroom.

Awhile later, Eden glanced over Lucy's shoulder. “He keeps looking over this way.”

“He's probably trying to figure out what the media find so fascinating.”

Eden smiled, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, that's exactly what his expression is saying.”

Lucy's new phone vibrated in her pocket. She paid the bill, then checked the screen.

It was from Nick.

Up for a game of pool?

She glanced at Eden, who was fishing her wallet from her purse, then typed I'm really bad at pool. Hopeless.

And that was no joke. She could never seem to get the cue to balance right on her fingers. It inevitably slipped, ruining her shot.

A few seconds later another text arrived.

I'll teach you.

When Lucy looked up, Eden was eyeing her with a knowing look. “He's texting you, isn't he?”

“He invited me to play pool. But I don't know. It's a little weird, you know, with Zac here and all.”

“I haven't seen Zac since I've been here. Besides, he's been perfectly clear where he stands.”

Even the gently delivered words were a kick in the gut. “True enough. Besides, Nick and I agreed we'd just be friends.”

Eden nudged her foot under the table. “Go play. Have fun. I have to pick up Micah anyway before he completely wears out my dad.” She scooted out of the booth. “Call me if you want to talk.”

After Eden left, Lucy drained the last of her iced tea and headed toward the poolroom. Nick introduced her to his friends, and they set up a game. Nick broke the balls, sinking two solids.

When it was her turn, he helped her choose a ball that was close to the corner pocket. She bent over to line up the shot.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Nick said. “You're too close to the table. Scoot back.” He tugged her away from the table. “Okay, you want
your hands like this.” He leaned over her, his arms coming around her. “Spread out those fingers. There you go.”

His voice was low in her ear, his hands over hers on the cue. “Okay, a nice, smooth stroke. Let's do it together. Nice aim, here we go . . .”

They pulled back the cue and brought it forward.
Crack.
The cue ball kissed the six and shot off at an angle. The ball rolled across the felt and dropped into the corner pocket.

“I did it!”

He backed away as she straightened, giving her a high five and a half smile. “Awesome, Lucy. You got the touch. Okay, now line this next one up. Which one you going after?”

“The four?”

“Great choice. Line it up. Spread your fingers. Yeah, that looks good. Now give it a nice, even stroke.”

She pulled back the cue and followed through. The cue ball touched the four, but the ball bounced off the corner of the pocket.

“Nice try, nice try.” Nick squeezed her shoulder.

Nick's friends beat them the first and second games. Nick continued to give her pointers, and by the third game Lucy was on fire. They won the game hands down. She could tell even Nick was impressed by her progress.

She lost all track of time. So much so that she was caught off guard when some of the lights in the dining room went off. She was surprised to see the restaurant empty and one of the staff turning chairs up onto the tables.

“Closing time,” Zac growled on his way past the room. He looked like he'd been ridden hard and put away wet.

Was he just tired and ready to close, or was he vexed that she was spending time with Nick? Well, he couldn't have it both ways.
Either he wanted her or he didn't. And he'd made it perfectly clear that he didn't.

She said goodbye to Nick and his friends. Zac had gone into the kitchen, and she wasn't yet tired, so she finished stacking the chairs on the tables.

When she was finished, she peeked out the front window. The reporters had given up for the night. She should get the mail. Her ATM card and new credit card were supposed to arrive any day. She was down to her last twelve dollars, and she didn't want to have to borrow money. She already owed Zac far too much.

As she neared the front door, Zac came through the kitchen pushing a mop and bucket, his eyes drifting around the room. “Thanks for putting up the chairs.”

“You're welcome. I'm going to get the mail.”

“All right.”

The night was cool, a fresh breeze skating over her skin. She crossed her arms against the chill and drew in a deep breath of tangy sea air. Crickets chirped in the nearby grass. She crossed the gravel lot, her shoes crunching on the pebbles.

A car door shut, drawing her eyes to the lone car in the parking lot, a dark sedan. A man walked toward her, crossing a puddle of light.

Her steps faltered as he walked between her and the Roadhouse, trapping her.

A cold shiver of fear washed over her skin. “I'm not giving a comment, so you need to be on your way.”

He stopped in a puddle of light, a wrinkle creasing his brow. “Lucy—”

“I mean it. I'll call the sheriff if you don't leave now.”

“You don't even recognize me, do you?”

Lucy shifted, her gaze taking in his short windblown hair, his perfectly oval face, his dark eyes. He was dressed for the office, his tie loose as if he'd tugged on it.

“Lucy . . . it's me. Brad.”

Somehow hearing he was her ex-fiancé didn't make her feel one iota better. She tightened her arms across her stomach. “What are you doing here?”

He walked toward her. “I was worried about you. You haven't returned my calls.”

She'd made the mistake of giving him her new phone number after he'd called Zac's line repeatedly.

Brad had gotten within a few feet of her. She stepped back. “I know, I'm sorry. I just . . . Things are a little crazy right now. I'm trying to settle in and figure things out.”

“You don't remember me at all?”

She looked at his face now that he was closer. The security light made harsh angles of his nose and cheekbones. Gleamed off his high forehead.

She shook her head. “I'm sorry.”

“I can't believe you don't—” He shook his head, frowning. “We were
engaged
,” he said as if that fact trumped her traumatic brain injury.

“I don't even remember moving to Portland. I know it's a lot to take in, but I can't help it.”

His eyes moved to her hand, and his lips tightened. “You're not wearing my ring.”

“We're not engaged anymore. I—I'll give it back.”

“You should come back home. I can help you remember.”

But she didn't want to remember. Not him or Portland.

But remembering would mean she wouldn't be stuck on Zac
anymore. It would put her out of her misery. If she remembered, would she go through with a wedding with this man she didn't even hold a warm thought for now?

He stepped forward. “I can help you, Lucy. I'll be patient with you, and I'll help you deal with the reporters. They won't bother you in Portland. I'll make sure of it.”

Her eyes zeroed in on his as a knot tightened in her belly. “It was you.”

“What was me?”

She took a step back. “You alerted the media. You told them where to find me.”

He held his palms up. “Hey. I had nothing to do with—”

“Why would you do that?” Her voice crescendoed.

He walked toward her, a resolute look on his face. “I didn't, Lucy. I came by earlier and heard some talk at the café. That's all.”

She didn't know what to believe, but her feet stopped as her back hit the mailbox.

Zac pulled the mop from the bucket and slopped it across the floor. His hands worked on automatic, his mind replaying the moment earlier when he'd barreled out of the kitchen. When his eyes fell on Lucy in the poolroom. Nick bent over her, his body too close, one arm around her, the other over her hand on the back of the cue.

Zac's muscles had gone tight, his jaw aching as his teeth clenched together. For a brief second he imagined picking up the guy by his collar and britches and tossing him like a bowling ball down the front walkway, straight into the reporters.

Strike
.

Instead he patiently mollified an elderly customer, giving him 50 percent off his tab, his eyes only drifting to Lucy again when her laughter rang out. He glowered at Nick as he gave her a double high five, practically turning the moment into a hand-holding session.

Every time he glanced over at the poolroom, his blood pressure soared. Lucy seemed to be having a great time, laughing and chatting as if she hadn't a care in the world. And it didn't take much to see that Nick was smitten with her. He hardly took his eyes off her long enough to get a shot in.

She'd distanced herself from Zac after their kiss, not that he could blame her. He'd pushed her away first. Right into Nick's arms, apparently. Did she really like him? Zac couldn't find fault with him, and that really rankled.

Well, he's in for a rough ride.
Getting tangled up with Lucy Lovett was a lot easier than getting untangled. He was living proof.

Zac swished the mop across the floor. He should be glad she was moving on with a guy like Nick. That was exactly what needed to happen. She thought she was still in love with Zac, but she really wasn't. She'd moved on when she'd left Summer Harbor, her heart just didn't remember. Maybe she wouldn't get her memory back at all. Maybe Nick was just what she needed to get over him for good.

The thought poked like a hundred burrs into his stomach. He jammed the mop back into the bucket.
Either you want her or you don't, Callahan. Make up your mind.

But it wasn't that simple. Nothing about Lucy was simple.

But it was good. Or it had been, once upon a time. So good he could hardly stand the thought of her with someone else.

Which was why she needed to get out of here ASAP. Her apartment would be ready next week, and the moment couldn't come soon enough. As much as he hated the thought of putting her out
there with those parasites still in town, he had to let go—really let go—of her. She wasn't his responsibility anymore. She was an adult, albeit one with a minor brain injury. She could take care of herself.

He glanced at the front door. She still wasn't back from getting the mail. She'd been gone too long. A tight fist coiled in his gut when he thought of those reporters. Surely they were tucked away at the hotel by now. They wouldn't hassle her, not after Sheriff Colton had warned them.

He dropped the mop and went to open the front door. His eyes fell on two figures across the parking lot by the mailbox, just outside a beam of light.

The man reached out, taking hold of Lucy's arm. Lucy squirmed away, but his grip held.

“Hey!” Zac bolted off the porch. “Let go of her!”

The man turned, glowering at Zac, not relinquishing his hold. “I'm her
fiancé.
”