Where Your Heart Is (Lilac Bay Book 1) (5 page)

BOOK: Where Your Heart Is (Lilac Bay Book 1)
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Like I had done with Mae the day before, I struggled to remember if I had met this person before. I would guess that she was a few years older than us, though with skin that perfect, it was hard to tell. Unlike many of the islanders I’d met so far, her jeans and sweater could accurately be described as trendy, and her medium-length blonde hair was highlighted and cut in a style I was pretty sure she hadn’t gotten at Curlicues, the island salon.
Really pretty,
I thought to myself.
But definitely not familiar.

“Uh…” I looked to Posey, unsure of how to respond, but the woman continued, reaching for my hands. “I’ve heard so much about you from your cousin and your grandmother. I do hope you’ll make it to our Libbies meeting on Wednesday.”

I had no idea what this woman was talking about, but I hardly cared when Margo responded with a roll of her eyes. “Sorry, ladies. I’m going to need something stronger than mulled wine in me if I’m going to try to listen to Libbies talk. Posey, Libby, nice to see you.” Her eyes scanned my face quickly, clearly not pleased with what she saw. “Iris. Welcome back. I hope you enjoy your visit.” With that, she turned on her heel and stalked away across the grassy lawn.

The stranger turned back to me, rolling her eyes. “That woman. I swear. She’s more sour than the limoncello Cora is serving at the pub.” She squeezed my hands before releasing them. “So. How was your trip up?”

I gaped at her before glancing back to Posey. I was glad this lady had saved us from Margo, but I had no idea who in the hell she was, or how I was supposed to respond.

“Iris,” Posey said, clearly trying not to laugh. I wondered how bewildered my expression must be. “This is my friend, Olivia Johnson.”

“Libby to my friends,” she said, reaching out again and shaking my hand. “Which you officially are. Friends of Posey’s are friends of mine.”

Still feeling more than a little overwhelmed by this complete stranger’s overt display of affection, I nodded. “Nice to meet you, Libby.”

We had finally reached the front of the line and got our cups of mulled wine—which meant another greeting from a stranger, Cora this time, who also somehow seemed to know all about me. When we had our cups and were walking away, Libby bumped my shoulder with hers. “This is probably so weird for you, isn’t it? Coming into a small town where all these strangers think they know you.”

She was smiling, her face sympathetic, though her eyes were dancing in amusement, and I decided that I liked this woman, slightly overwhelming as she was. “It is weird,” I confessed. “I don’t remember it being like this when I used to visit.”

“Everyone knew who you were back then, too,” Posey argued. “You just didn’t notice because you were too busy playing with your cousins and having fun.” She shook her head. “Now you don’t remember what fun is and you’re way too busy worrying about work and—”

“Hey!” I cried. “I have fun!”

She raised her eyebrows. “Since you got here?”

“I’ve been here for twenty-four hours, Pose.”

She waved her hands dismissively. “I can squeeze tons of fun into twenty-four hours.”

I gestured around the fish fry with a deadpan look. “Oh, yes. Look at how much fun.”

Libby was laughing at us. “It probably all seems terribly country-bumpkin to you, doesn’t it?”

“No,” I said immediately, feeling bad. It was one thing to tease my cousin, but I barely knew Libby, and she was more than likely infected with the same disease as everyone else on the island—the strange belief that it was the greatest place on earth and everyone should love it like they did.

“It’s okay,” she told me. “It can be a little much sometimes. But it really is a nice place to live. I hope you enjoy your time here.”

“I’m sure I will,” I lied.

“Which brings me back to Libbies,” she said, face brightening. I felt mine scrunch up in confusion. It brought her back to herself?

“Oh, not
me
Libby,” she said quickly, waving her plastic cup of wine. “
The
Libbies. Our club.”

“Club?”

She turned to Posey, aghast. “You didn’t tell her about the Libbies?”

Posey looked amused. “I was trying to ease her into island life,” she explained.

Libby grabbed my hand. “Iris, you have to come. We have such a good time.”

“What is it?”

“Oh, duh. Sorry, I get ahead of myself. The Libbies is a group of women who meet every other week at my shop—”

“Which is also called Libby’s,” Posey interjected helpfully.

“Also called Libby’s,” Libby agreed.

“What kind of shop is it?”

“Oh, a little of everything. I sell some pottery and jewelry and books and little knick-knacks. Souvenirs. Pretty much whatever I like. And there’s the tasting room, of course.”

“Tasting room?”

“Wine. Lots and lots of wine. From the best wineries on the Leelanau Peninsula.”

“And fudge, too,” Posey added. “Can’t forget the fudge.”

So this woman ran a pottery and jewelry studio slash knick-knack shop slash wine-tasting room that also served fudge.
Makes a ton of sense
, I thought wryly.

“And what do you do at these meetings?” I asked.

“Well, we started as a book club—”

“Which is where the name came from,” Posey interrupted. “Lilac Bay Book Broads.”

“Yup, we were the L.B.B.B.,” Libby said. “But then we realized we were spending a lot more time drinking than talking about books, so we added Booze—the Lilac Bay Book and Booze Broads. L.B.B.B.B. And then Sadie Taylor, she owns the bakery, decided we should add baking to the mix, like recipe swaps and tutorials and stuff like that—”

“So that was another B in the name, with the baking—”

“And that was just way too many Bs.”

“So we just started calling ourselves the Libbies—”

“Since we were at my store and all. And the letters all fit.”

“And it just kind of stuck.”

I stared between the two of them. They were smiling like all of this made perfect sense. “So you get together at the shop and you bake things.”

“And drink booze,” Posey added.

Libby nodded. “And sometimes talk about books.”

“But mostly drink booze.”

They were looking at me expectantly and I had no idea how to respond. I supposed that when your options were as limited as they were on the island, you found your fun where you could get it. Even if that fun sounded, frankly, insane. “That, uh, seems really great.”

“It is!” Posey exclaimed happily.

“We meet every other Wednesday at seven. This Wednesday is a Libbies night, and you absolutely have to come.”

It was pretty obvious from their expressions that nothing I could say was going to be an acceptable excuse. “Sure,” I said. “I think I can make room in my busy schedule.”

Posey laughed, slinging an arm around me. “Just wait. Once you start working at the café, you’ll be busy soon enough.”

“You planning on working me into the ground?”

She tilted her head, her skeptical face looking so much like her mother, it made me want to laugh. “Of course not. But I know you, Iris. You can’t resist working yourself half to death.” She glanced at Libby. “Consider it a Holder family trait.”

Her words sent a little sting through me. I wasn’t sure why—she was obviously joking. But there was something about the way Libby looked at me—was it pity?—that made me feel kind of small.

“Mmm, Mr. Biceps alert,” Libby said suddenly, voice low and excited as she clutched Posey’s arm. “I swear that boy get’s hotter by the day.”

Posey released me so she could turn and see who had Libby all worked up. She snorted. “You’re a little old for him, Lib.”

“I’m thirty-eight!”

“And he’s twenty-nine.”

“I could be a cougar,” Libby murmured, a wicked grin on her face. “I’m sure I have it in me.”

“Who’s enticing you to Cougarville?” I asked, wanting to see the hot guy for myself. Libby was looking directly over my shoulder, and I turned to see, craning my neck a little—and found myself face to face with David.

There was something about the first sight of him that always hit me right in the chest. It had been that way since the day I met him, all those years ago, and the reaction had apparently never changed. The combination of the dark grey eyes, strong jawline, and that always-tousled dark blond hair was enough to send any woman to Cougarville, I was sure. But it was more than that, more than the universal good looks and, frankly, ridiculous body. Something about his eyes, the way they seemed able to peer right into my head while giving away very little as to his own thoughts. I used to stare into his eyes for ages, back when I had the right to do so.

But I lost that right years ago. So instead, I looked away, very quickly, not wanting to see the same look of annoyed indifference that had been there the day before on the docks.

“David,” Posey said, giving a little wave. “Nice night, huh?”

“Hey, Posey.” Man, even his voice was sexy. Only slightly deeper than when we were teenagers, but somehow changed. More manly. I could still hear the way that my name sounded in that voice yesterday, so close to my ear, his arms wrapped tightly around me out on the dock—

Stop it
, I thought, angry with myself.

“David,” Libby practically purred, taking his arm. “It’s so nice to see you.”

I expected him to recoil from her obvious flirtation, but he surprised me. His eyes crinkled up a little, his mouth twitching. Holy crap, was he about to smile?

“Nice to see you, too, Libs,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Heard the bit about Cougarville, by the way.”

She threw her head back and laughed, and I envied her lack of embarrassment. I would be blushing as dark as my mulled wine if David overheard me complimenting him. Instead, she patted his arm. “Don’t worry. Cougarville isn’t really my style.”

“My loss.”

Wow. He wasn’t exactly grinning, but still. It was like a completely different person than I had seen yesterday.
Maybe he’d had an off day
, I thought, watching him. Maybe he hadn’t changed that much since high school, after all.

But then his eyes settled on my face, and all traces of laughter left his. “Iris.”

“David.”

He turned back to Libby and Posey. “Have you eaten?”

Just like that, I was dismissed. So maybe I hadn’t imagined the change. Or maybe the new, scowling David was only for me. Awesome.

“Not yet.” Posey lifted her glass. “Had to take care of the essentials first.”

“We should probably get over there,” Libby said, glancing over her shoulder at the line for the fryer. “There was a lot of gossip in town today about Jerry not catching enough fish. I heard something about him having trouble getting the new chicken settled, or something.”

Across the square, I saw Jerry showing his basket to a pair of teenage girls. He looked inordinately pleased with himself.

When I turned back, David was shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. I brought in a good haul myself. There should be plenty.”

“See?” Libby said, leaning in a little closer. “A provider,
and
he’s gorgeous. Who wouldn’t turn cougar for this guy?”

He removed her hand from his arm, patting the top of her head. “It’s not fair to tease an impressionable young man like that, Libby.” He nodded at Posey. “I should go make sure the tables are well stocked. See you guys later.” His eyes flicked to mine, and his chin came down in a passable imitation of a nod. Then he turned and was gone.

I kind of wanted to slap him.

Libby watched him go, an appreciative look on her face. “I’ll never get sick of that view.”

Whatever. He might look awfully good in those jeans, but it wasn’t even worth looking when he was that much of a jerk. Libby was welcome to him.

She turned to me, eyes wide. “So. What’d you do to him?”

“What?”

“Come on, Iris. There’s obviously something there. Didn’t you see how he was looking at you?”

I scowled. “Like I was a bug under his shoe?”

Her expression turned confused. “A bug? Hardly. No one looks at a bug with that much passion.”

“Passion? Are you crazy?”

She shrugged. “There was
something
in that look. Granted, it wasn’t very friendly. But it was pretty intense. Way too intense for a bug, that’s for sure.”

I turned to Posey for support, but she was watching David go, a thoughtful look on her face. “It
was
a pretty intense look. Noticed it the other day at the café, too.”

“You’re both nuts.”

Libby looked disappointed. “So there’s no story there?”

“Oh, there’s a story,” Posey said. “Iris totally broke his heart when we were teenagers.”

“I did not!” I cried, loud enough that several people turned to look. “I did not,” I repeated, quieter this time.

Posey rolled her eyes at Libby, who was looking like Christmas had come early. “She
totally
did.”

“You guys were a thing?” Libby asked.

“For like, two minutes,” I said.

“It was longer than two minutes,” Posey said. When I started to argue, she turned slightly so she was facing Libby, partially blocking me. “They became really good friends when Iris first moved here back in high school. They were pretty much inseparable from the get-go.”

“We were not!”

But Posey just kept talking like I wasn’t even there. “Started dating about two seconds later. They were crazy about each other, it was very intense.”

Libby nodded. “Sixteen and in love. I remember those days.”

“We weren’t in love!”

“But then Iris moved back to the mainland to live with her dad. And broke poor David’s heart.”

Since they both seemed determined to ignore me, I wedged myself against Posey’s side. “I did not break his heart. We went on, like, two dates. It was not a big deal.”

Posey rolled her eyes. “Denial,” she told Libby wisely.

“Well.” Libby turned to watch David, who was helping Cora refill her massive cooking pots with the biggest jug of wine I’d ever seen. Mr. Biceps, indeed. “That explains the look.”

“There was no look,” I cried, not caring this time that I was attracting attention. “David Jenkins feels nothing for me. And he clearly didn’t feel that much in high school or he wouldn’t have been so happy to see me go.”

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