When Love Happens (14 page)

And alone.

S
EAN TRIED TO
cover his yawn as the poetry reading drew to a close. He’d endured the ten-K with Tori, and actually, it had been quite fun. She knew a lot of the other volunteers from various race events, and though she’d failed to introduce him, he’d managed on his own. Then they’d grabbed lunch at a fast-food restaurant, which, like so many other things she’d done over the past
twelve-plus hours, had been designed to push him over the edge. Instead, he’d happily indulged her wacky behavior and even contributed to it by insisting he order for her. The menu hadn’t included artichoke hearts, but it did have onions, which he knew she didn’t like on her burgers. He’d ordered extra for her, and she hadn’t said a word. She’d waited until the order came out and then made a big
deal about getting another one without onions. She was doing her damnedest to make herself unattractive.

But he saw past that. He could outlast her silly endeavor, and in the end she’d still have to choose between staying married or doing the show in exchange for her precious divorce.

When she’d suggested they go to the poetry reading at the coffee shop in Ribbon Ridge, he’d considered dropping
her off and offering to pick her up later because he was bloody exhausted, but he wasn’t ready to surrender.

She’d listened intently and seemed genuinely enthusiastic, leading him to wonder if she actually liked live poetry readings. Sean, on the other hand, had to fight to stay awake. Of course, that was due in large part to the fact that she’d awakened him at the arse-crack of dawn.

At last,
the final poet was done reading. Everyone stood and clapped—all eighteen people in the place. Yes, he’d counted them. Twice. And five of those eighteen were the actual poets.

They were situated in a back room of Books and Brew, which held literary events such as the monthly poetry reading. It also hosted several book clubs and “Meet the Author Monday,” featuring local authors, on the first Monday
of each month. The shop’s “brew” was beer in addition to coffee, and if Sean hadn’t been so tired, he would’ve ordered a beer, especially since it was Archer. But since he couldn’t keep his eyes open, he’d opted for a double shot of espresso, and he was still struggling.

He turned to ask if she was ready to go. He was keen to have a nap before seeing what new torture she had in store for him
this evening. However, she went and talked to a pair of middle-aged women. Again she didn’t introduce him, and at this point, he was a little past caring.

The coffee shop was half bookstore, so he left the back room and went to browse the bookshelves. As he read the back cover of a political thriller by Rachel Grant, a timid voice interrupted him.

“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you, but are you here
with Tori Archer?”

Sean turned to look at the girl and nearly jumped. Blimey, she’d sounded like a teenager, but she looked to be about Tori’s age. “Yeah. Hi, I’m Sean Hennessy.” He offered his hand.

She tentatively shook it. “Hi. I’m Dawn Yocum. I went to school with Tori. High school,” she clarified.

He replaced the book on the shelf and made a mental note of the title so he could download
it later. “So you know all the Archers then.”

She nodded. “Everyone knows the Archers. You sound foreign, so maybe you don’t know that they used to be on TV.”

He grinned. “Actually, I do know that.”

Her eyes rounded briefly. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume.”

He had the sense that she was shy. Why, then, had she approached him? “It’s no problem. I
am
foreign, after all.”

“England, right?
Western, I’d guess.”

“You have a good ear.”

“I spent a semester at Oxford.”

He nodded approvingly. “Well done. Did you travel while you were there?”

She blushed, which enhanced her pale beauty. She was petite, with light brown hair that grazed her shoulders in gentle waves. “I did. The Cotswolds were my favorite—that’s how I knew your accent.”

“And that’s precisely where I’m from. Where did
you stay?”

Tori came up to them. She smiled at Dawn, but her eyes were cool. “Hi, Dawn. I see you met my husband.”

Now
she called him her husband? He shot her a curious glance, but she was staring—no, maybe glaring—at Dawn. A perverse satisfaction washed through him.

Dawn’s eyes rounded again, and Sean had the sense she made that face a lot, though in this case she was probably genuinely surprised.
“Congratulations. I hadn’t heard.”

Tori slid her arm through Sean’s, completely knocking him off guard. What the hell was she up to? “Thanks. We’ve been apart for a while. Sean’s a television producer, and he’s been filming in Europe.”

Dawn looked at him and let out a soft giggle. “That’s funny.” He shared her laughter, knowing she was thinking about her telling him about the Archers’ show.

Tori looked between them, her brows dipping over her eyes. “What’s funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” Sean said, enjoying Tori’s discomfort. It was her turn to feel off-kilter. “Are you ready?”

“As ever.” She offered Dawn that same hollow smile. “Good to see you.”

“Bye.” Dawn lifted her hand as they left the shop.

They went to the car, and Sean opened the passenger door for her, as he’d done all day. When
he climbed into the driver’s seat, she was texting someone.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

“Yep. Fine.”

“I’m exhausted. I think I need to head back to the apartment and lie down for a bit. Do you have anything else planned?”

“Nope. I’m good.”

Her succinct responses begged for him to ask what was wrong, but he didn’t. He suspected she’d been jealous, and while he wanted to ask why she’d
finally introduced him as her husband, he was feeling too content to bother.

They drove back to the apartment in complete silence. He parked next to the garage and opened the car door for her.

She stepped from the car and paused. “Actually, I need to go into the house for a bit. I’ll see you later.”

He nodded, not caring about anything but having his head meet the couch. He didn’t even bother
undressing before he collapsed and fell instantly asleep.

T
ORI WENT DIRECTLY
to the beer tap and filled a pint. She’d downed half of it before Kyle and Maggie came into the kitchen. Kyle set a grocery bag on the counter and looked at the beer in her hand. “Rough day?”

She didn’t see any point in responding since it would likely invite questions she didn’t want to answer. “Thanks for coming to
make dinner.”

He pulled items from the bag. “Happy to, especially if it means you and Sean are working things out.”

Tori took another drink. She didn’t want to tell them what she was really doing. Why not let them think they
were
trying to work things out? After all, that was the bullshit line she was selling Sean, too.

Maggie went to the beer tap. “You want a pint, Kyle?”

“Absolutely.” He
opened a paper wrapper to reveal four of the most gorgeous steaks Tori had ever seen.

“Steak?” One of Sean’s favorites. He would think she’d been extra thoughtful. Damn, she probably should’ve asked Kyle to make something vegetarian, maybe with eggplant, which Sean hated.

Kyle looked up from seasoning the meat. “Yeah, that okay? You didn’t specify any requests when you texted me your SOS call
for dinner help.”

“It’s fine.” And it was. Sean deserved something delicious after the hell she’d put him through today. “Do you want me to help?”

Kyle laughed. “Are you kidding? Just talk to Maggie.”

Maggie took a beer over to Kyle. He paused in what he was doing to kiss her. The moment was fleeting, but the mutual appreciation and love between them was palpable, and Tori was surprised to
feel her chest tighten. She polished off her beer and pulled another.

“Hey,” Maggie said, eyeing her refilled glass, “you want to talk about anything?”

“Not really.” In fact, she wanted to avoid talking entirely. “I need to go pick out some wine.” She set her beer on the counter.

Maggie sipped her beer and set it down, too. “I’ll come with you. Back in a bit, Kyle.” She flashed him a smile
and accompanied Tori from the kitchen.

Despite the beer she’d just pounded, tension pulled at her shoulders as she led Maggie downstairs to the cellar. She went into the windowless room next to the theater and turned on the light. Floor-to-ceiling wine racks lined every wall, save a counter area with a small sink and a cupboard that held a variety of glasses. To the right of that was a large
chiller stocked with white and sparkling wine. The entire room was climate controlled. Dad might be a brewer, but he took his wine very seriously.

Tori went to the rack that held the magnums. Tonight’s plan was to drink a lot and then wake him up early again with more exercising. He’d want to kill her. Or divorce her.

“Do you need such a large bottle?” Maggie asked, coming up beside her.

Tori
just shrugged. “I’m looking for a specific variety, and I know we have it in a magnum. It’ll go great with the steak.” She found the bottle she was looking for and pulled it out. “Got it.”

“Hold on a sec.” Maggie took the bottle and set it on the bar-height table in the center of the room. “What’s going on? I’m getting a weird vibe from you.”

“Nothing’s going on.”

Maggie peered at her with
unvarnished doubt. “The other day you were ready to give up on Sean, and now you’re enlisting Kyle to make a romantic dinner. That’s not nothing.”

“I never said it was romantic.”
Nice one, Tori. Lame.

Maggie arched a brow at her. “You’re picking out special wine.”

“Only because it tastes good.”

“Let’s open it. That’s a big-enough bottle to share, and we’re having steak, too.”

Why not?
Tori
went to one of the drawers near the sink and pulled out a wine opener. She cut the foil while Maggie took out a pair of wine glasses.

“Will these do?” she asked. “I never realized there were so many different kinds of glasses for different kinds of wines.”

“Kyle’s been educating you?” Tori screwed the cork out and gave it a whiff before handing it to Maggie. “Here.”

Maggie held the cork up
and inhaled the scent of the wine. “Yeah, he gets so excited about food and wine—pretty much anything that goes in your mouth.”

Tori hefted the bottle up and poured the garnet-colored wine into the glasses. “I have to tell you, he’s a different person since you guys got together. I’ve never seen him so happy.” She handed Maggie a glass.

“To happiness,” Maggie said, lifting her wine in toast
before taking a long sip. “Oooh, that’s good.”

“You think it’s good now. Just wait until it’s had time to breathe a bit.” Tori took a drink and briefly closed her eyes, savoring the delicious pinot. “You see why it’s one of my favorites?”

“I do.” Maggie pushed her dark, curly hair over her shoulder. “What I don’t see, however, is why you’re stringing Sean along. He seems like a really nice guy.
What’re you doing with him?”

And tonight, the role of Tori’s conscience was apparently going to be played by Maggie Trent. “We’re just trying to figure things out.”

“And how’s it going?” Maggie sat in one of the chairs at the table, indicating she planned to settle in for a nice long chat.

Tori sipped her wine. “Slow, but that’s okay.”

“What did you guys do today? Weren’t you at a race or
something?”

“Yeah, I volunteered at a ten-K. He came along.” And seemed to have a great time. They hadn’t been alone, so she’d been on better behavior and had almost relaxed in his presence. Their station had included a few porta-potties, so at times there’d been people waiting in line. He’d chatted them up, offered encouragement, and pretty much charmed the pants off everyone. She’d seen how
the women looked at him—and listened to his crazy sexy accent. Hot jealousy had scalded her insides, but she told herself she didn’t have any right to feel that way. Not that scolding herself had done any good. Later, when they’d run into Dawn at Books and Brew, the green-eyed monster had reared its head again.

“Tori?” Maggie startled Tori from her thoughts. “Why don’t you sit?”

Tori took a
chair. “I was just thinking about this poetry reading we went to this afternoon.”

“Poetry reading?” Maggie looked incredulous. “Whose idea was that?”

“Mine. I like poetry.” She shrugged. She did like poetry, but she never would’ve dragged him to that if she hadn’t been trying to put her worst foot forward. No, if this had been a real weekend during which they were trying to reconnect, she’d
take him to her favorite winery up in the Dundee Hills. They’d taste Oregon pinot and chardonnay, as well as some French wine from the winery’s counterpart in France. They’d stroll through the vineyard, then she’d take him to a fabulous French restaurant over in Carlton, where the owner knew everyone from the area by name. She felt a sudden burst of sadness that they would never do those things.

Maggie chuckled. “Sorry. A poetry reading sounds horrible. My hippie parents made me read poetry aloud every night before bed when I was a kid.”

Tori stared at her. “They didn’t.”

“Oh yes they did. You’ve met my mom—she’s a nut.” Maggie sipped her wine. “I suppose there are worse dates than a poetry reading.”

Tori could think of several from her own experience. “Absolutely. A guy took me to
a high-school basketball game once.”

Maggie tipped her head to the side. “That’s not a bad date.”

“It is if you’re not in high school and you don’t know any of the players. He was twenty-seven and just hadn’t quite moved past his time as the school’s star player—
ten years before
. He spent the entire game telling me all about his slam dunks and monster jams.”

Maggie laughed. “Okay, that’s pretty
horrifying. At least he didn’t take you to an art exhibit featuring food in various states of decomposition.”

“Gross! Did that happen to you?” Tori asked.

“Sort of. It was my dad’s exhibit. He wanted me to come and suggested I bring a date. I went—because I’m a nice daughter—but there was no way I was subjecting anyone to that level of strange.”