Willow Spring (12 page)

“Okay,” she said without hesitation. “What does everybody want?”

After taking drink orders from everyone but Anna, who already had a beer, she made her way over to Logan behind the bar.

“Hey there, freckles, what’s shakin’?”

Somehow that seemed like a loaded question just now, so she simply replied, “I’m playing waitress for the bachelorette party,” and ordered the drinks. Thankfully, they were all simple, since news that Logan was a terrible bartender had made its way around town like wildfire. And all of Destiny remained completely perplexed as to why he was doing
this
rather than resuming his position at the fire department.

As Logan assembled the beverages, Amy said, “I hear Mike’s bachelor party is tomorrow. You don’t have anything . . . bad planned, do you?”

He cast her a mischievous look. “Who, me?” Then said, “Nah, keeping it on the straight and narrow. Bunch of us are swimming and grilling out at my place tomorrow, then we’ll head over to Bleachers tomorrow night.” Bleachers was a sports bar in Crestview where the guys had hung out for years.

“Sounds fun,” Amy said.

“And, uh, hey, not to beat a dead horse, but if you get a chance to talk to Anna tonight . . .”

And Amy could only sigh. And then the following words left her mouth without planning. “I don’t think you need my help with Anna. I think you’ve got her exactly where you want her.”

Logan flinched and—oh God—she knew it had come out too sharply. “Well . . . okay. You don’t have to snap at me about it.”

She sucked in her breath, blinked, tried to look natural. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just . . . stressed.” Completely true.

“Rachel and Tessa both have you doing a lot for the weddings, don’t they?”

“Yes.” And though not the source of her stress, also completely true.

“Sorry I’ve asked about this Anna thing so many times—don’t worry about it.” Then he reached out and pressed his hand over hers where it rested on the bar. And as usual with Logan lately, the simple friendly touch shot straight up her arm and then seemed to explode through the rest of her body like a starburst. She just swallowed, hard, trying to quell any reaction that might show on her face.

“Um, okay,” she managed. But darn it, her voice came out softer than intended. “And . . . sorry I snapped, Logan.”

“No worries, freckles,” he said warmly, his blue eyes shining on her, giving her that wonderful, melty feeling. Or, well, it would
be
wonderful if he ever thought about her as a girl, a woman.

And then a brainstorm hit her. And she didn’t even stop to consider it—she just rolled with it. “I need to get out more.”

“Huh?” he said.

Take a deep breath. Keep rolling.
“I was just thinking I need to get out more. Do you know any nice guys you could fix me up with?”

“Fix you up with?” he asked, sounding a little astonished. Which maybe made sense given that they hadn’t really talked about Amy’s love life since her break up with Carl a million years ago. And also since, realistically, she knew all of Logan’s friends.

But she just said, “Yeah, fix me up with,” anyway, like it was a perfectly normal, typical request from her. “I need to have more fun.”

“Huh,” he said again, still appearing dumbfounded. “I don’t know. I mean, you know pretty much everyone I do.”

But that was okay. Because this wasn’t about actually trying to make him jealous. It was only about . . . reminding him. That she was a female. Who liked guys. Who was capable of going on dates. In case he’d forgotten. And the look on his handsome face pretty much made her think he had. So . . . mission accomplished. Small mission though it was.

“Yeah, guess that’s true,” she said, watching as he finished the drinks and began loading them onto a round tray. “But if you think of anybody . . .”

He squinted at her. “Mind if I ask what brought this on? I mean, the truth is, freckles, I don’t even know what kind of guy you’d . . . you know . . . be looking for.”

Amy gave it a moment’s thought and told him, “Just someone who could maybe . . . broaden my horizons,” she said. Which wouldn’t take much, given that her horizons stretched only to the edge of Destiny. And she thought that sounded . . . adventurous. And being adventurous was an idea that suddenly appealed. “And as for what brought it on . . . who knows? Maybe it has to do with Rachel and Tessa getting married. Or maybe it’s about Anna coming back to town. I’m just realizing that . . . life changes and I have to change
with
it. There’s a world beyond the four walls of Under the Covers and maybe I want to explore it.”

“Huh,” he said yet one more time. Just that.

And as she picked up the tray to walk away, she realized how good all that had sounded, and how confident she suddenly felt, inside and out.

Maybe it’s true. Maybe I can change, be bolder, step outside the usual borders of my life.

Only . . . what that meant right now, she knew in her heart, was finding the way to do what Tessa kept telling her she had to: admitting the truth to Logan. And that still sounded unthinkable, but . . . maybe it was a teeny tiny little smidge more thinkable in this moment than it had been an hour ago. Maybe.

“Drinks,” she said, lowering the tray to the table and feeling a bit more festive than when she’d departed.

“How much?” Tessa asked, reaching for her purse. “First round’s on me.”

Which is when Amy realized, “Oh—I don’t know. He forgot to charge me.”

“Boy, Anita’s got herself a great bartender there,” Rachel quipped, shaking her head. “We’ll remind him next round.”

Amy took her seat next to Tessa and reached for the Coke Logan had poured for her while everyone else claimed glasses of wine or mixed drinks. Meanwhile, Sue Ann asked Anna, “Are you getting used to Destiny yet?”

Though Anna smiled, Amy thought it looked slightly forced. “Slowly but surely.”

And Rachel added, “The tougher part, I’m guessing, is getting used to Mike. Trust me, I know.” Both being strongheaded, Rachel and Mike had had quite a difficult time getting along early in their relationship.

Even as everyone laughed, however, Amy still thought Anna’s reaction didn’t seem completely sincere. Although she smiled as she said, “You could say that.”

And apparently Rachel could see through it, too—and had gotten to know Anna well enough to be up front about it. “All right—you don’t look happy. So what has the big lout done now that I don’t know about?”

At this, Anna let out a sigh, fiddled with her beer bottle, and said, “Well, the truth is, I just discovered that when he found out Logan and I were attracted to each other, he asked Logan to take it slow. As in, apparently, not even being alone with me.”

It was difficult for Amy to hide her elation as she sent up a silent,
Thank you, Mike!,
same as she had once before.

“And it’s freaking ridiculous,” Anna went on, picking up steam. “I mean, I’m a grown woman! And I’ve gotten by just fine without him up to now! And I wanted to come here and find my family and all—and everyone’s been great, don’t get me wrong—but for him to think it’s okay to try to run my love life in any way whatsoever . . . um, no. That’s majorly out of bounds.”

“Oh my God, what a jerk!” Sue Ann said, never shy about expressing an opinion. But then she apparently remembered where she was and tossed Rachel a sheepish glance. “Sorry, Rach. Normally, I love Mike.”

But Rachel just swiped a hand down through the air. “No need to apologize. He
can
be a jerk. And Anna, I’m so sorry he’s being so heavy-handed with you. You’re right—it’s completely over the line. But . . . I hope you can understand that it’s only because he loves you so much.”

It surprised Amy when Anna only let out another forlorn sigh. “That’s what Logan said, too, but it’s too much.”

“Um,” Tessa began uncertainly, “what was Logan’s reaction to Mike’s request? If you don’t mind my asking.”

Anna pursed her lips, looking unhappy. “Well, he was a lot more understanding about it than I am.”

“That’s Logan,” Jenny chimed in. “Loyal as a guy can be.”

“So you kinda gotta respect that,” Tessa added, “even if it’s unreasonable. Right?”

And the unchanged look on Anna’s face told Amy that maybe this hadn’t yet crossed her mind. “Oh. Hmm. I don’t know. Maybe.”

“They
are
best friends,” Sue Ann added, unknowingly helping Amy’s cause. “You don’t want to do anything to come between best friends, you know? Even if Mike
is
being a big buttinski.”

Anna dropped her gaze to the table for a moment before raising her eyes again. “I guess that’s true.”

“And it’s not like he’s . . . forbidden you to see him or something,” Tessa pointed out. “He just said take it slow. And slow can be nice sometimes.”

Anna didn’t look like she particularly believed that part, but she still offered up a grudging nod.

Just then, the first note of Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream” blared from the jukebox and Rachel said, “I want to dance!”

And Jenny asked “Here?” No one danced at the Dew Drop Inn.

Yet Rachel looked aghast. “Look, this is my bachelorette party—my proverbial last night of freedom before I attach myself to the old ball and chain. If I say we dance, we dance! Now come on, girls—we’re dancing.”

Since Rachel was clearly in the mood to rule with an iron fist, everyone at the table started getting to their feet—except for Amy, who grabbed Tessa’s wrist and yanked her back down as well. When Rachel gave her a pointed look, Amy told her, “We’ll be there in a minute,” and when Rachel’s expression softened, she knew her friend realized this probably had something to do with her current dilemma.

“What is it?” Tessa asked as everyone else walked away.

“Something awful just hit me.”

“What’s that?”

“What happens after the wedding?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Mike and Rachel’s wedding is next Saturday night,” Amy explained. “And then they’re going to Italy. And even that night, they’ll be leaving the reception before everyone else anyway to go have wedding night sex. And so who’s to stop Anna from having her way with Logan after the wedding? I mean, if I were her I’d totally be putting the moves on him the second Mike walks out the door. Wouldn’t you?”

When Tessa cast a light scowl in response, Amy knew she agreed.

Which prompted her to add, “What am I gonna do? How am I gonna stop that?”

Tessa’s look came half speculative, half scolding. “You could take a chance and tell him how you feel.”

But Amy just let out a long, tired breath. Yes, she knew about that option already and thought it was clear she was choosing to bypass it. Even if it was beginning to seem more in the realm of possibility, more like a thing that, deep down, Amy knew had to happen eventually, one way or the other—she wasn’t ready to do it
yet
. She had to work up to it, over time. She had to find the right way, the right moment. It would be a very delicate, well-thought-out, well-planned operation. So she simply told Tessa, “Not on the table for right now.”

Tessa offered up a thoughtful sigh. “Then all you’ve got is your love notes. Which means you should write one right now.”

At which Amy gasped. “Here? Now? With such a limited number of females here tonight, most of whom he’d be able to rule out?”

Tessa shrugged. “Sure. Anyone could have stopped by the parking lot and put it on his car.”

Okay, that was true.

“And get serious this time. About what you want. About sex,” Tessa insisted.

“I did that in the last one,” she explained.

But Tessa appeared skeptical. “Well, whatever you wrote, make it more this time. Sexier, naughtier.”

Amy swallowed. “Naughtier?”

Tessa just tilted her head. “You think Anna wouldn’t go for naughty with him? The Anna threat is getting serious and you have to play hardball here—it’s the only way. I mean, if all you’ve got are these love letters, you have to make them really count.”

After lamenting that she didn’t have any paper, Amy watched as Tessa reached in her purse and neatly tore a small pink note sheet from a pad. Passing her a pen along with it, she said, “Do me proud.”

So, at a loss, Amy began.

Dear Logan,

I want you more every day. I want you day and night. I want your kisses, your touches—I want it all. I want you . . .

She stopped writing then, out of ideas. Which was when Tessa, looking over her shoulder, said, “Inside me.”

“What?” Amy drew back to look at her, aghast.

“Write it,” Tessa demanded.

“You seriously think I should go that far?”

“I seriously do.” Her tone was downright commanding—Amy wasn’t even sure she’d ever seen Tessa this way.

So she took a deep breath—or tried to anyway, because it didn’t come easily at the moment. And then, stomach churning, she forced herself to pen the two words that felt so stunningly intimate that she couldn’t believe she was really doing it. Even if what she was writing happened to be profoundly true and she fantasized about it all the time now.