by Jacie Floyd
“Same as you,” Zach said, smoothing things over. “Catching up with old friends and supporting Jillian during a difficult time.”
Scottie snorted. “Supporting Jillian. Right, that’s what he wants to do to her. She can’t want him here after the way he embarrassed her all those years ago.”
All three men turned her way. She might’ve wanted to take the easy-out Scottie provided, but her past with Liam wasn’t up for discussion. Despite what everyone in town might think. “We’re all old friends.”
Joining the group, Jimbo asked the age-old cop question, “Is there a problem here?”
“Why haven’t you arrested him yet, Jimbo?” Scottie scowled. “Besides the fact that he’s your cousin, I mean. No offense, but everybody knows he’s a criminal.”
Jimbo hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “There are no warrants for his arrest, and he’s committed no crimes in Sunnyside that I’m aware of.”
“Not in the last fifteen years.” Liam’s comment reminded them of some youthful hell-raising they’d participated in during their teen years. All, but Scottie, since he’d been more of an outsider. “I don’t even jaywalk or run stop signs anymore.”
Zach slapped a palm to his forehead. “We were such delinquents back in the day. What’s the statute of limitations on breaking into old man Sawyer’s barn, anyway?”
A slow grin spread across Jimbo’s face. “We all got off easier on that stunt than we should have.”
Scottie’s lip curled. “Yeah, I heard Bert paid off Lem Sawyer for wrecking his prize Chevy. You were lucky Jillian was with you that time, but that was chump change compared to the millions Liam stole from all those innocent investors.”
Jimbo’s grin disappeared, replaced by a no-nonsense scowl. “Those allegations have been resolved by the Southern District of New York and the Securities Exchange Commission.”
“You don’t care that he’s a lying, cheating—”
“That’s enough, Scottie.” Jillian planted herself in front of Liam. Zach joined her. “Liam used to be my friend, and he was a friend of my father’s. He’s been invited to my house to catch up on old times, just like you have. Everyone deserves a second chance. I suggest you leave well enough alone or simply… leave.”
He glared at the group, but when Natalie strolled in, Scottie huffed. “You guys always stick together. If you want this crook here, then, hey. Why not?” He grabbed a beer, slid a proprietary arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders and steered her toward the family room while she gave Liam the slow-eyed once-over.
“Sorry about that.” Zach slapped Liam’s shoulder.
“That guy’s always been an asshole, cuz. That’s not against the law, but I’ll talk to him about easing up on the accusations.” Jimbo helped himself to more pizza and wings.
“He’s entitled to his opinion. I’ll eat and leave, like I planned.”
“Hey, babe, hurry up.” Harper came in and slipped her arm through Zach’s. “Instead of pool, we’re going to play Texas Hold’em.”
“Oh, Lord, you looked at them with those sweet brown eyes and hustled them into thinking you’re a novice, didn’t you? This I’ve got to see.”
“Josh says he won’t play if Liam does.” Her eyes got wide and she grimaced. “Sorry,
Liam, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I think he’s kidding.”
“Nope, he means it.” Zach gave her a comforting squeeze. “Liam’s a genius at counting cards. He kicks our butts at poker, and Josh can’t stand losing. But you’re even better than Zach, and little brother won’t expect that. Come on, this will be fun. Liam? Jillian? You guys coming?”
Liam hung back while he fixed his plate. “Not me, thanks. I don’t want to risk getting beat by a girl.”
Zach scoffed. “Jillian used to beat you at stuff all the time.”
“Mostly, I let her. I had an ulterior motive in those days.”
Knowing his motives all too well, Jillian blushed and contemplated going with them, but her feet remained glued to the tile floor. “Be there in a second. You know where the cards and chips are, Zach?”
“I’m on it.”
How many times had she and Liam hung back to steal a kiss in the kitchen? But this moment had a different feel. Tension hung in the air, but not the kind that was super-charged with heat or excitement.
“I can’t believe you ate at Le Dish while I was there.”
“And Imperial before that. I haven’t been to Belfontaine, because…” Scratching his head, he took a seat at the bar. “My life was a zoo that last year in New York. Bert said it’s great though.”
Smiling at the memory of her dad and how much he’d loved her cooking, she slipped onto the barstool beside Liam. “He wasn’t an impartial observer.”
“Me either.” He forked a huge bite of quinoa. “You don’t know how many times I dreamed about this salad.”
Dreaming about a salad seemed like a stretch, but had he dreamed about the salad and her? That implication must’ve been her libido talking. “It wasn’t such a hit with the gang.”
“They can’t help it if they’re not gastronomically adventurous. If they haven’t shot, butchered, raised, grown, canned, or defrosted it, it probably hasn’t shown up on their table. Typical party fare is pizza, wings, and little hot dogs wrapped in canned dough.”
“What about you?”
“Pizza and wings are typical for me, too.”
“But you dream about quinoa salad.” She said it with a note of satisfaction.
He put down his fork and rested his chin on his fist. “For a while, a short time ago, I developed a taste for something else. Something different. Something special.”
Was he still talking about salad? She didn’t know. Didn’t trust her own judgment where he was concerned.
“I can’t blame anyone but myself for my mistakes, but sometimes I’m tortured with the question what if.” He swiveled his seat and turned hers to face him.
Their jean-clad knees touched and sent little electrical shocks up her thighs. His knees were turning her on. Her hands locked together to help her get a grip on herself. His knees, for God’s sake. They were probably the least exciting or sexy part of the anatomy.
She twisted away. He pulled her back.
Gulping, she wondered when all the air had been sucked out of the room. “What if… what?”
“What if I hadn’t been so stupid?” He did that thing with his finger, sliding it beneath her hair and pushing the long strands over her shoulder, grazing her neck, creating the sort of sensory memory that sent a thousand little starbursts shooting through her. She hated it that just the touch of one of his fingertips still had that effect on her.
The impulse to lean over and kiss that one particular spot beneath his jaw, where the scruff of his beard met the skin of his neck, rode her hard. She fought the urge to slide into his lap and press her chest against his, loop her arm around his shoulders, and settle in for a kiss that would obliterate a full slate of past hurts and rejections. On both sides.
Because, oh boy, she couldn’t make it that easy for him. She didn’t want to. His betrayal had shattered her trust. It had cracked and broken her heart like an eggshell smashed on concrete. And he’d been stupid in other ways, too. Monumental, catastrophic ways. And who was to say those other ways wouldn’t have ultimately hurt her just as badly? She wasn’t even sure which stupid action he regretted the most. “Way back when? In New York? Or now?”
Thoughtfully, he took a pull on his bottled water. “Then. Now.” As he leaned in close, almost nose to nose, she saw herself reflected in his eyes. Eyes that used to be able to see all the way through her, clear down to her soul. His mouth hovered over hers, and his breath teased her lips. “Which one matters most?”
In the family room, a hoot rose up. A cheer accompanied by a groan. Someone had won. Someone had lost. Wasn’t that always the way? She pulled back. “They all matter. Still.”
“You stood up for me to Scottie.”
How could she not stand up for him? How many times in their lives had he stood up for her? She’d seen Liam’s jaw tense when Scottie had lobbed his insults. But she couldn’t let him see her sympathy now. “You weren’t doing much to stand up for yourself.”
“Words won’t change people’s minds. They have to accept me as I am, or not at all. Zach tries to champion for me a lot. That’s who he is. Who he’s always been. But you. You have good reason to hate me, and you stood up anyway. I appreciate that. And that makes me think… what if.”
“There is no ‘what if’ for us.” The firmness of her voice left no room for doubt.
“Everyone deserves a second chance, you said.” With a slow movement, he cupped her breast in his palm. “Even me?”
A rush of desire slammed through her. Pulled her hard. But she closed her eyes against it. “I’m not ready to forgive or forget.”
His thumb rubbed her taut nipple. “Your body says you might be.”
Gathering all her emotional resolve, she shoved his hand away. “My body thinks eating banana cream pie and not going to the gym are good ideas, but it’s wrong about that, too.”
With a slow rueful smile and a nod, he rubbed his palms against his thighs, and stood. “You need to get back to your guests, and I’ve been gone long enough.” He grabbed his leather jacket and headed for the door.
She hadn’t known he had another commitment. “Gone from?”
“The strip club.”
“On Sunday night?” That seemed sacrilegious, somehow. “Do you get much business?”
“It varies.” With his hand on the doorknob, he looked at her over his shoulder. “I have an app that tracks peak hours of operation, if you want to check it out.”
“Email it to me, please.” She shouldn’t have been surprised to find out the number’s geek kept track of hourly traffic. “My roommate’s a corporate accountant, and he’s helping me get a handle on my financial situation. He’d probably like to see that, too.”
Up went an eyebrow. “Your accountant and your male roommate are one and the same?”
“Yeah, he’s a wonderful guy. Amazing.” She deliberately laid it on thick.
A scowl marred his sexy lips. “Be careful about tangling up your business and personal relationships like that.”
“Thanks for the tip, Liam. I’ll remember that when I want the advice of someone who’s totally screwed up his own life.”
The lips flattened into a straight line. “Right. Have him call me with any questions.”
She bit back a smile, because, really, his unwarranted jealousy was like an unexpected gift. She twisted the knife a bit. “I’ll do that. He might visit in a few days. Look things over firsthand. The two of you could meet.”
“Whatever I can do to help.” The door opened and closed sharply, leaving behind a whoosh of cold air.
“Have a good night,” she called after him, glad he was leaving. Sorry to see him go. Would her contradictory feelings for him ever settle into neutral?
Chapter Six
Soon after Liam left, Scottie and Natalie had taken off, too. The rest of the group fell back into the easy comradery of drinking, chatting, and joking around the card table until the number of active players was down to two—Josh and Harper. After trading money on a couple of hands, Josh went all in with three-of-a-kind; the librarian prevailed with a straight.
“Impressive!” Jillian applauded her new friend.
“That’s my little card shark.” Zach gave his fiancée a smacking kiss. “We’re putting her on the poker tour right after the wedding.”
Harper raked in her chips. “Thank you, everyone! I’ll put my winnings to good use toward the wedding fund.”
“Or better yet, the honeymoon.” Zach wiggled his eyebrows. “I can’t wait to enjoy the sand between my toes while my wife buys me a beer with money contributed by my friends.”
“I’m never playing poker with you again, Harper.” Josh picked up his beer and drained it. “But I want to see you play Liam someday. You two would be evenly matched.”
“Liam would never play Harper,” Grady said. “He only plays when he knows he can win.”
“He always was competitive that way.” Jimbo pulled Tina into his lap to share her bowl of popcorn. “Remember that time he scored the tournament-winning basket against Grayville at the buzzer?”
“He was playing on a sprained ankle and had about three men guarding him.” Zach chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t know how he got that shot off, but it was a beauty.”
“Jillian, Maddie, and I were cheering next to where he sent up the shot. As soon as the buzzer sounded, he ignored the coach and the team to grab Jillian and swing her around.” Rachel fanned her face. “Remember, Jillian? All the cheerleaders nearly died with envy, it was soooo romantic.”
“How could I forget that? He was hot and sweaty and gave me the game-winning ball.” That very same ball was still on a shelf in her room upstairs. She’d left right after graduation, and her dad hadn’t changed a thing. Weird to be back there with all her high school mementos. The place practically reeked of memories of Liam. Might be why she kept dreaming about him.
Dodging further discussion of that topic, Jillian escaped to prepare a tray of snacks and desserts. “I’ll be right back.”
Rachel followed. “How can I help?”
“If you’d arrange these goodies on this platter, that would be great. I’m going to see about figuring out this cappuccino machine, in case anyone would like some.”
Grady appeared in the kitchen door. “Need help?”
Rachel snorted. “Know a lot about cappuccino machines, do you?”
He took her teasing in stride. “I know a lot about this one. My mother has one just like it.”
Jillian fumbled and dropped the lid. “What?”
“My mother loves the stuff. She’s got this same model.”
Coincidence? Maybe. Or maybe it was a simple case of one friend recommending a product to another. Or maybe there was more to it than that. She and Rachel exchanged glances.
“I didn’t know your mother liked cappuccino,” Rachel said.
“Unless you’ve been to her house in the past year, how would you know?”
“True, I guess I’m surprised to hear that your mother and Bert are both cappuccino fans and had the same make and model machine. What are the chances?”
“Pretty good, I’d say. They were friends who worked on the Town Council together and spent a lot of time together. It wouldn’t surprise me if Mick and Claire have one, too. You know Bert. If he liked something, he might have bought everyone on the council one for Christmas or something. Why’s it a big deal?”
Jillian stopped the speculation. “It’s not. Just a little mystery. But I’d rather crack the mystery of how to use the blasted thing. I wonder if the instructions are around her somewhere.”
“We won’t need them,” he said, bumping her aside.
By the time cappuccinos were made and they returned to the group, conversation had progressed from high school hijinks to more recent memories of Bert. Their praise for his impact on the town warmed her, but left her squirming, too. Would they feel so warm and fuzzy when they learned how many Sunnyside businesses were on the brink of failure?
“He was so proud of you.” Grady snatched up a fresh-baked chocolate chip cookie. “He was forever showing us pictures of you, boring us with—I mean, sharing news about your latest accomplishments.”
“When you were on Chopped last year, you would have thought it was the Super Bowl, the way he raved about it.” Jimbo zeroed in on an ooey-gooey frosted brownie.
“Oh, my gosh. I’m sorry you had to put up with that.” Harper pressed her palms against her flushed cheeks. In theory, she knew the show reached millions of viewers. In practice, she never pictured people she knew sitting around watching her.
“Are you kidding? It was fun.” Josh left the card table and began racking the balls for pool. “He set up a bunch of big scre
en TVs, catered in food, and invited everyone out to the old barn, so we could all watch it together.”
“I don’t know if you’d already given him the word about the final results,” Kate said, “but if anyone even hinted that you might not win, he ordered them to leave.”
“And he had me replay the video on all the library monitors for the entire next week.” Harper added this last bit. “I’m going to run it again tomorrow in his honor. And yours, since you’re back in town.”
“This is so embarrassing. I want to stop by and see what you’ve done with the library, but don’t expect me tomorrow.”
“We all like to share the glory when a local girl makes good.” Grady moved over to the pool table and selected a stick.
“A picture of you from the show is still the wallpaper on Bert’s phone.”
“That’s so sweet.” Tears gathered in her eyes and a verklempt lump lodged in her throat. “He always had my back. I never doubted him a single second of my life.”
“You were lucky to have him.” Harper’s comment contained a hint of wistfulness.
“We all were.” Grady lined up his shot. “Mom always says that Mick runs the town, but Bert made things happen.”
“They were a good pair.” Kate propped her chin in her hand. “I don’t know what we’ll do without him.”
“Do you know what you’re going to do with all the businesses yet, Jillian?” Tina asked. “Will all of them be able to go on without him?”
Oops! Blindsided. Should she reassure them or share the truth? When in doubt, hedge. “I’m still looking into it, but honestly? Things don’t look promising.”
“You aren’t going to close any of them, are you?” Tina chewed her bottom lip. “Put people out of work?” She was probably worried about her mom’s job at the day care, and her brother at the lawn and garden center. They all knew someone who worked for one of Bert’s enterprises. “Your dad would hate that.”
Jillian would hate it, too. Her stomach roiled at the thought. And this was just a taste of the pressure he’d been under. “I’ll do everything I can to prevent anyone from losing their jobs.” It was a worthless promise, but it was all she could offer.
