Willow Spring (11 page)

She could only sigh at the sad reminder. “No.”

“Well, why not? He was cute, kind of.”

At this, Amy let out a huff. “Unlike you, when I was younger it took more than someone being cute, kind of, for me to have sex with them.”

“Wow, you really
aren’t
yourself,” Rachel said, visibly taken aback.

And Amy realized what she’d just said. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I didn’t mean to criticize.”

Yet Rachel merely held her hands up in front of her as if it were no biggie and replied, “No—I really, really
like
this side of you. It’s like . . . you’re human or something. You have flaws like the rest of us.”

Wow. She’d never thought about that, that having these kinds of flaws might actually make her friends relate to her more. It was heartening under all the weird circumstances. Yet it also reminded her . . . she
was
flawed. In huge ways that made her feel bad. “You don’t think I’m awful for being jealous of Anna?”

“Not about Logan, no. You’ve known Logan your whole life—to me, that means you’re . . . entitled to be a little jealous.”

Yet something about that answer made Amy’s stomach churn anew. It meant she wasn’t imagining any of this, that there was definitely something to be jealous of. “Do you think I should worry? About them, together?”

And now it was Rachel who sighed, looking lost for an answer. Which was rare. And which told Amy all she needed to know. Yes, she needed to worry. And if Rachel had found herself in this position, she had what it took to make a big move—Rachel had always been confident, outgoing, sexy. But Amy had none of that. Amy was just . . . Amy.

And so when Rachel finally said, “Don’t worry—this will all work out,” Amy knew they were only pretty words, all Rachel could come up with.

And she felt more certain than ever that it wouldn’t work out the way she wanted at all.

Eight

What blindness, what madness had led her on!

Jane Austen, from
Emma

A
nna sat at the bar in the little hole-in-the-wall gathering place outside town, the Dew Drop Inn. As bars went, it wasn’t much, but like every place in Destiny, everyone there was friendly. And the beer was cold. And Logan was behind the bar. That was the best part, of course.

Except . . . she was beginning to wonder if he liked her as much as she’d first thought. He seemed to enjoy her company, but he hadn’t made a move on her, or even tried to kiss her, even though she thought she’d made it pretty clear she was into him.

Of course, they were hardly ever alone, so when would he kiss her? Every time she saw him, they ended up in a crowd—even if that crowd was only her brothers and their fiancées.

And even as much as she hoped they might end up leaving the bar together later, she knew it was doubtful. Tonight was Rachel’s bachelorette party—she was waiting for Rachel and her friends to show up now—and she just knew something would happen before the end of the night to blow her plans for Logan.

As she sat sipping from a beer bottle, she watched him tend bar.

“Fuzzy navel, coming up,” he told the short blonde, an older woman, who’d just ordered it. Then added, a bit sheepishly, “As soon as I figure out what that is.”

The woman and Anna both spoke at the same time. “Peach Schnapps and vodka,” and it made Anna let out a good-natured laugh. She’d been observing him for nearly an hour now and this wasn’t the first drink he hadn’t known how to make. How on earth had he become a bartender, for heaven’s sake? After she’d first met Logan, Mike had mentioned he’d recently left his longtime job at the Destiny Fire Department, but he hadn’t said why and she hadn’t felt at liberty to ask.

“Uh, how much of each?” he asked then, looking back and forth between the two women.

“Between you and me, darlin’,” the blonde said, “you might need to go back to bartendin’ school.”

“You can tell I’m new on the job, can’t ya?” he asked with a disarming grin that clearly won the lady over. But even so, Anna couldn’t help thinking he seemed as out of place behind that bar as she felt at moments in this town.

Oh, she liked the people well enough. And she felt a real bond with the family that had embraced her. No one here had been anything but kind to her. And she’d had flashes, early on, when she’d really thought the place—and the people—could begin to feel like home.

But she was a city girl at heart, and even as quaint as it was, Destiny was no city. And the people here . . . they were almost
too
nice. She knew herself well enough to realize she had certain sharp edges about her—she went after what she wanted, she generally said what she meant, she dressed boldly and wasn’t afraid to show off her shape—and the longer she spent here, the more she began to feel like a fish out of water.

She had the most in common with Rachel, which was fortunate since she was staying with her and Mike—but she couldn’t help feeling she was intruding on their happy home. And she couldn’t live there forever, even if she knew Mike would make it hard for her to leave.

And that was another thing—Mike. She cared for him already—she truly did—and she understood what he’d gone through when she’d been taken. But if he hovered any more, he’d be on top of her. She’d been relieved to have a reason to get out of the house tonight without him, thankful when Rachel had pointed out that it was a girls-only event.

“Shit,” Logan muttered behind the bar, and she looked up to see that he’d managed to spray himself with water from the soda gun.

She couldn’t stifle her laugh and he met her gaze with another cute grin. “You’re jealous of how good I am at this, right?” he asked her.

“You read my mind,” she playfully replied.

Blotting at his button-down shirt with a rag, then wiping up the mess he’d made, he resumed working on another concoction, telling her with a confident sideways glance, “I’ll get better at it.”

She responded with another smile—since even if he was a bad bartender, he was cute at being bad. And when he came back down to where she sat a minute later, she gave him one more smile and said, “I have a feeling you’d make a better fireman than a bartender.”

He responded with a tilt of his dark blond head. “Someone told you about that, huh?”

She nodded. “Mike mentioned it when I first got to town. Why’d you give it up? Don’t you know girls think firemen are sexy?”

He smiled at the last part, but didn’t exactly answer the first. “Eh, it was just time for a change. And I can still be perfectly sexy without all the fire gear, promise,” he told her with a wink.

“Oh, no worries there,” she assured him. “You’re sexy as hell no matter
what
you do.”

“Good to know,” he informed her as he started wiping down some glasses. But then he paused in his work and gave her a slow, speculative look. “Um, this might sound like a weird question, but . . . you haven’t been sending me . . . little messages, have you?”

She wasn’t exactly sure what he meant—maybe this was some small town way of asking if she was coming on to him? So finally she said, “Um, yeah, sure I have.”

But now he gave her a funny look, as if perhaps
he
wasn’t sure she knew what he was asking, either. And it began to feel a little awkward, so she decided to just move on. “So . . . doing anything after you get off work tonight?”

Logan just replied with a laugh and said, “Sleeping. We’re open ’til two, and then I have to clean up. Makes for a pretty late night.”

And Anna merely nodded, getting the message loud and clear. After which she made an even bolder decision, to simply lay it on the line and be blunt. “You know, I’ve been starting to wonder if maybe . . . you’re just not into me.”

She appreciated it when his eyes went wide. “Why would you think that?”

She pursed her lips slightly, tried to look teasingly aloof. “Well, I pretty much asked you out, but you haven’t taken me up on it. You seem to like hanging out with me, but . . . only in a crowd.”

“Well, the reason for that is . . . complicated.”

She leaned her head to one side, not sure she liked the sound of this. With a guy, complicated was never good. “Complicated how?”

He hesitated a few seconds, now wiping down the bar, before saying, “Mike’s my best friend. And so . . . it only seemed right for me to sort of . . . get his blessing before getting involved with you.”

Okay, now she was starting to
really
not like the sound of this. “And . . . ?”

“He had some mixed feelings, and basically kinda wanted me to . . . take it slow, you know? So that’s what I’m doing. Out of respect for him and our friendship.”

“I see,” she said as her blood boiled. And she was trying not to let it show, because she didn’t want to seem crazy, or unreasonable, or as if she was so nuts about Logan that it was maddening. But the maddening part—the part that made her absolutely livid—was that her brother thought it was okay to dictate her dating life. After they’d known each other less than two weeks. And for God’s sake, she was thirty freaking years old!

“It’s only because he cares about you so much, you know? And he thought it might be weird if . . . if things didn’t work out between us or something, I guess.”

“Ah,” she said shortly. So Mike already had things “not working out” between her and Logan. And he’d felt free to put this idea in Logan’s head. “That’s just great.”

“Don’t be pissed at him,” Logan said with a sweet smile, and she realized her efforts at hiding her emotions clearly weren’t working.

So she got honest again. “I think Mike needs to understand that I’m an adult. He might not have seen me since I was five, but I’m completely grown up and capable of deciding who I socialize with.” At this point, it was all she could do to keep sitting on her bar stool without completely exploding in anger. She was learning to love her brother, but already she wanted to kill him.

Just then, the door to the Dew Drop Inn opened, admitting Rachel and all of her friends. Anna had gotten to know Tessa some already, and she remembered Amy from the moment she’d first arrived in Destiny. The other two she’d met at the wedding shower—what were their names? Jenny and Sue Ann? So many names to try to retain since her return.

And Anna truly liked Rachel’s group of companions, but like everything else here, she didn’t feel she was a part of them. Of course, how could she—they were lifelong friends and she’d just arrived. So even if everyone kept telling her how much she belonged here, she still felt—more and more—like she was on the outside looking in.

Rachel wore a feathery silver tiara on her head that said
BRIDE,
with a small veil of white netting hanging from the back, which looked completely ridiculous with her otherwise smart, stylish appearance—but she was laughing, smiling, and Anna could feel how deep her sister-in-law-to-be’s joy really ran.

“If you’d told me a few years ago that I’d be having my bachelorette party here,” she was saying merrily to the other girls, “I’d have thought you were crazy!” None of them had noticed Anna yet.

“You’d have thought we were crazy to even say you were getting married,” Tessa pointed out. “And living in Destiny.”

“True,” she said, settling at a table with all her girlfriends—who also happened to be her bridesmaids. “And look at me now—happier than ever. Crazy, huh?”

But maybe what was crazy was Anna thinking
she
could ever really be happy here. She was trying, but Mike was making it difficult.
Lots
of things were making it difficult. She might have been born here, but she wasn’t sure she was cut out for small town life in Destiny.

Just then, she realized Amy was looking at her, so she lifted her hand in a wave.

Amy returned it, but appeared a little awkward, maybe even sad.

That was when Rachel spotted her, too. “Anna!” she said. “Come join us.”

The truth was, as it had been since her arrival, that she felt more comfortable with Logan and honestly would have preferred staying at the bar near him—and of course she liked being near him for other reasons, too, even if Mike was doing his best to thwart her efforts. But she had a feeling that when in Destiny, it was best to do as the Destiny-ites did—and who knew, maybe before the night was over she’d feel a little more like one of the girls.

Amy watched as Anna, looking utterly sleek and gorgeous even wearing just a fitted silky red T-shirt, jeans, and more of the high-heeled strappy shoes she seemed to favor, climbed down from her stool at the bar and made her way over. How long had she been here? She’d obviously come early to spend time with Logan. And even that tiny tidbit of knowledge was enough to make Amy’s stomach ache.

“Hi, everybody,” Anna said, her smile bright and pretty and enviable. And, as usual, Amy hated herself for envying it—but she just couldn’t seem to control her emotions regarding Anna Romo.

“Hi Anna,” Amy said, joining in the other girls’ greetings and hoping like heck that it came off sounding natural.

After that, small talk ensued—Anna was nice enough to ask lots of questions about Rachel’s wedding next weekend, and talk turned to all the remaining little tasks that had to be accomplished between now and then, many of which Amy had volunteered to do. She even pulled out the list in her purse. “I’ll check on the cake and flowers Thursday. And I’ll be working on birdseed packets all week.” She was tying handfuls of it into pastel netting to be thrown instead of rice.

“If you need any help with that, I have plenty of time on my hands,” Anna offered.

And—wow—it was a nice offer. And Amy could use the help. And any normal, nice person would take her up on it, maybe even make a point of including her in activities so she could feel like a part of things. But Amy was beginning to fear she just wasn’t a normal, nice person anymore. Because she simply couldn’t face the idea of hanging out with Anna in her apartment working on wedding tasks. She froze in place, unable to answer.

“Actually, you won’t have time for that,” Rachel said to Anna, “because I was planning to enlist you for table decoration duty.”

And as Anna readily agreed, Rachel and Amy exchanged quick glances that allowed Amy to send an unspoken
thank you
with her eyes. Thank God for her friends or she’d never get through this. Even if she’d felt a bit of fresh embarrassment—as if she were wearing a big red “V” on her forehead—when she picked up Rachel and Tessa tonight, they were still there for her in every way.

“We need drinks,” Sue Ann said, playfully pounding her fist on the table.

“Maybe we can get Logan to wait on us,” Anna suggested.

To which Jenny cheerfully replied, “I’m sure he will if
you
ask him, Anna—I saw the way he kept looking at you at the shower.”

No, no, no, Jenny—stop.
But of course Jenny wasn’t a mind reader, so she had no idea of the turmoil Amy was currently going through.

And as Sue Ann added, “From what I hear, he might make a better waitress than a bartender,” Tessa chimed in to say, “No, he looks too busy already—one of us should just go to the bar and order. Amy, Miss Designated Driver, will you do it?”