“Travis.” She didn’t finish. He didn’t give her the chance.
“I’m only asking for one conversation. Just one and then you’ll never have to talk to me again.”
The old Mal would have agreed. Would have heard him out. But the old Mal had been burned by this man and she shied away from allowing it to happen a second time. “I should go. Say hello to the other guests.”
She walked away before he could say anything else. She couldn’t listen to it, not now. And with each footfall, the surprise and shock of Travis’s homecoming turned to something she could hang on to. Something sharp and hot and angry.
Mal headed around the house, following the same path Owen had earlier. Seriously, if it wasn’t his wedding she’d have had to kill him. In fact, she might have to do it anyway. Grace would understand. There were certain behaviors that were just not okay. Forcing your sister into a chat with her ex ranked right up there.
“What were you thinking, Owen?” She didn’t care that she was interrupting him making out with Grace. They should be out mingling with the crowd, anyway.
“Busy here, Mal,” Owen said, his eyes still on Grace. But then that was nothing new. When Grace was in the vicinity, Owen’s eyes tracked her. Even now, when she was pressed up against the side of the house with nowhere to go and his arms around her, Owen’s gaze shifted when Grace did. Mal pretended she didn’t remember that Travis had once been the same around her.
“Yes, I can see that. But I’d like you to explain why you dragged me into a conversation with Travis.” Even now, Mal could feel the flush of embarrassment warm her cheeks. She was glad the reception was outdoors, and although it had been an unseasonably warm March, it was hardly summer weather.
“Looks like you survived.” He stroked a finger down Grace’s cheek.
Grace caught his hand and turned her attention to Mal. “What did he do now?”
“Now?” Owen feigned shock. “You act like this is a common occurrence.” He cupped Grace’s face this time and she kissed him.
As Mal watched, her brother’s entire body softened. A flicker of jealousy rose, but she slapped it down quickly. She wasn’t jealous of her brother, not either of them, although they’d both gotten married within the past few months while she, the only one who’d even been in a serious relationship eighteen months ago, was flying solo. But she missed having someone. The companionship, the love, the sex. She pushed that flicker away, too.
“It was bad enough that he dragged me over, but it was the ditching me with him and coming here to make out. Did you really think that through, Owen?”
“So, things didn’t go well?” Owen pulled his gaze away from his bride long enough to frown. “I thought you were okay with the fact that I’m still friends with him.”
She was. She totally was. Hadn’t she sent him off to visit Travis when he’d been in need of a friend and denying his feelings for Grace? “Your being friends with him doesn’t mean I am.” Could he not understand that?
Grace was giving her husband the same look Mal was. “Owen.”
Owen turned back to her. “He misses her.”
Mal felt a jolt rock her. She locked her knees again. Collapsing against the house in front of her brother and new sister-in-law would be as bad as falling prone in front of Travis. Well, almost as bad. “He doesn’t miss me.”
And even if he did, it didn’t matter, didn’t change anything. They were still broken up. She was still mad. And she’d still found him with his face buried between another woman’s thighs.
“Did you even talk to him?” Owen was twirling the ends of Grace’s hair through his fingers and the two of them were making googly eyes, which was to be expected, Mal supposed, considering it was their wedding day.
She swallowed. She should respect that this was a special day for them, a special day for her, too, since they were adding another wonderful woman to the family. No one needed to listen to her whine about Travis. Certainly not the bride and groom. “You know what? How about we just agree that you won’t do it again and I’ll leave you two to get back to your...” She waved a hand to encompass whatever they might get up to and then began walking away.
“Mal,” Grace called to her over Owen’s shoulder.
Mal turned around slowly. She really didn’t want to get an eyeful of whatever Owen might be doing to Grace. “Yes?”
“Do you need us to come with you?” She elbowed Owen when he let out a groan. “You started this. We aren’t going to let your sister go back out there alone if she needs support.”
“I’m fine.” Now she just felt foolish for having brought it up in the first place. Time and place. Neither of which were here and now. “You stay and enjoy yourselves. I’ll be okay. Really.” She even gave a brief nod to fully reassure them that she could handle herself and would not be in need of assistance. That would be assuming Travis kept his distance.
Too bad she couldn’t get any reassurance about that.
* * *
TRAVIS WATCHED THE side of the house where Mal had disappeared. He made himself stay where he was rather than chase after her, even though it nearly killed him. He’d known he missed her, but actually seeing her in person, being close enough to touch, brought it all home. He’d been a fool to let her go. Yes, she’d caught him off guard when she’d suddenly sprung the news that she wasn’t coming back to Aruba, but he’d handled it poorly.
He could see now that, in her shoes, he’d have done the same thing. In fact, was doing so now, coming back to be closer to his grandma and his family. Closer to Mal.
She was thinner than she used to be. She didn’t fill out her dress the way she would have a year ago, but she still looked better in person than in his imagination. Her hair was longer, the dark locks falling halfway down her back. It suited her, filed away some of those hard businesswoman edges. And her eyes were the same deep brown; he remembered the way they’d darken when she looked at him, widen as she reached for him to touch or tease, to press a kiss to his cheek or shoulder. Damn, he missed those days. He wanted them back.
Maybe he should go after her. She’d disappeared around the side of the house, but there weren’t that many places she could go. Not in those pale blue high heels that looked as if they could pierce a man’s heart with one good stomp.
Instead, he gripped the bottle of water he held more tightly and told himself that he had time. He was back now. For good. He didn’t need to rush things. He would take his time, show her that he meant what he said and then he’d slowly win her over. That was the plan. It was his only plan.
What he wouldn’t give for a cold beer right now. But he hadn’t had a drink in a year. Not since that night that Mal had walked in on him and another woman. It shamed him that he couldn’t even remember the woman’s name. She’d been a tourist, on the island for a vacation and looking for a little no-strings hookup that wouldn’t follow her when she returned home. He’d been looking to lose himself. And he had, right up until the door to his office had opened and Mal had walked in to find him with his head up the other woman’s skirt.
He’d regretted it then, regretted it more now. If only he hadn’t let Mal walk away, hadn’t grabbed a bottle of whiskey and drunk until he could no longer taste, hadn’t let himself believe that he could forget about her by filling the space with someone else.
Travis took a swig from the bottle, letting the cool water wash away the layer of bitterness coating his tongue. What happened was in the past and he couldn’t go back and undo it, but he could try to make amends. Of course, that awkward conversation mere minutes ago probably wasn’t how best to go about it.
Crazy. He’d not only spent the flight from Aruba and ferry ride from Vancouver to Salt Spring Island considering and planning what he’d say when he saw Mal, he’d also thought about it for many months prior. Hand hovering over the phone or Send button on his
email without doing anything. He’d had the conversation a million times in his head and heart. And still he’d choked when the moment arrived.
Travis took another sip of water and rolled his shoulders. He’d just have to try again.
But when she came out from the side of the house she was clearly on a mission that nothing and no one was going to interrupt. He knew that look, that strut. He enjoyed the sway of her hips as she moved across the patio and went through the back door, entering the house.
“Ahem.”
Travis blinked and looked straight into the eyes of his best friend, the recent groom. “Ahem yourself.” Then he clapped Owen on the back.
“You blew it,” Owen told him, but he was grinning. “Pissed her right off.”
“I didn’t mean to.” Travis’s eyes darted back toward the door. But Mal didn’t reappear. “How pissed was she?”
“Enough.” Owen exhaled with the easy breath of a man who knew that his night would be spent in the arms of a loving woman. Travis tried not to be jealous. It had already been a year. What was one more night?
“Where’s Grace?”
“She’s gone to check on Mal.” Owen nicked a skewer from a passing server and popped it into his mouth.
“They’re friends?”
Owen nodded and finished chewing. “Yes, but don’t ask her to get involved. You messed things up with Mal and you can fix them yourself.”
“And here I thought you’d be eager to stick your nose in your sister’s love life.”
“I am. I said you couldn’t ask Grace, but I am amenable to being convinced. So go ahead, ask me to get involved.”
Travis laughed. “Like I could keep you out of it.”
“Well, I am a bit of an expert. I got Donovan and his wife back together when my brother screwed everything up.” Owen sipped from his own bottle of water. His expression grew serious. “Listen, I love my little sister and I want her to be happy. She hasn’t been happy since you broke up, so...” He trailed off with a shrug.
“I’ll be honest, Owen. Things aren’t off to a good start.” Even rocky didn’t cover it.
“Yeah, I caught that much. But if she didn’t care, she wouldn’t be mad.”
Travis had picked up on that, too. Still it was good to hear from someone else. “I just need to get her to talk to me.” Of course, that was easier said than done when she was slippery as an eel. “Any advice?”
Owen tilted his head, seeming to think about it. Then he shrugged again. “Put your head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye?”
“Wow. You should charge for that insight. Brilliant.”
Owen laughed. “Good to have you back, buddy.”
Travis smiled, too. It was good to be back. Even if he was pretty sure Mal was going to do her best to avoid the conversation they clearly needed to have.
CHAPTER TWO
RIDICULOUS. COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS.
Mal shook off the warm, caramel-y feeling that tried to melt the icy guard she’d placed around her heart. Travis hadn’t missed her. Not really. No matter what he or Owen or anyone said.
She splashed some cold water on the back of her neck and stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. She looked tired. She was tired. But this was Owen and Grace’s wedding and there was no time for a pity party of any sort.
She splashed a little more water. Her eyes tracked her hands, noticed the bareness of her fingers and not just because she was the only Ford child currently without a ring of commitment, but because seeing Travis reminded her that, not so long ago, she’d been the only one to have that symbol of a relationship.
Her stomach jittered and she pressed a hand to it, trying to take some slow deep breaths as she’d learned in Pilates. But the bliss of Zen never came. Maybe because Zen was more of a yoga thing.
Mal’s eyes strayed to her bare finger again. She should have brought the ring with her. She’d known Travis would be in attendance. She should have placed it in her luggage, transported it here in her purse and then taken a quiet moment alone with Travis to return it to him.
The ring was his grandma’s. A pretty, square-cut sapphire surrounded by diamond chips. Mal had been so thrilled when he’d given it to her. It hadn’t been an engagement ring, not in the traditional sense, as they’d been too busy putting all their time and money, all their energy into the beachfront bistro in Aruba. But they’d talked about having a wedding once they were settled. Flying in their families and getting married with their toes in the sand and a starry moonlit night overhead, an ocean breeze blowing through the palm trees.
A ghost of a smile crossed Mal’s lips before disappearing, much the way her dreams had. She needed to return the ring. Not just to Travis but to Mildred. It had been wrong of her to keep it as long as she had, sitting in her jewelry box so she looked at it every morning when she chose her accoutrements for the day.
She dried the water from her neck, pressed cold fingers under her eyes and, after a few deep breaths and a good roll of the shoulders, decided to head back out. She couldn’t stay in the house forever. It might not be her wedding, but people would be looking for her. And it would be good to have something else to focus on, such as small talk and chatter about the family business—a string of wine bars, one fine dining restaurant and their recent expansion into the gastropub market with a single location. She would also be happy to talk about the charity event she was organizing to raise money for local food banks.
Mal made her way through the lovely farmhouse and out the door to the backyard. The party, though small, was still going strong. She glanced around for a group to join. She didn’t care which one, so long as it didn’t include Travis or her brother.
“Mallory.” Her mother, Evelyn, swooped in like some kind of avenging angel or mother of the groom, as she was, and wrapped her in a tight hug. “I’ve barely seen you tonight.”
“You saw me before the ceremony and sat with me during the ceremony. I’ve been around.” When she hadn’t been doing her best to avoid a certain someone. But really, aside from her quick chat with Owen and Grace around the side of the house and her short break to cool her nerves, she’d been in the backyard with everyone else. She’d tasted the food. She’d toasted with champagne. She’d mingled.
“You look tired.” Her mother zeroed in with the laser focus that she had for all her kids and brushed back a lock of Mal’s hair. “Are you getting enough sleep?”
“I’m fine, Mom, and I’m getting plenty of sleep.” And on those nights when she wasn’t, she worked, so it wasn’t as though she tossed and turned or lay on her back staring at the ceiling, contemplating sheep jumping a fence.
“You need to take care of yourself.” Evelyn brushed back the lock of hair again. Like all guests at the wedding, Evelyn wore pristine white. In her case, a crisp white suit showed off her figure and demonstrated why she easily passed for ten years younger than the age on her driver’s license. “I worry about you. About what happens when you don’t take care of yourself.”
Health was a newly discovered focal point for all the Fords, as it was just over a year ago that Mal’s father, Gus, had suffered a heart attack. Suddenly eating reasonably well and exercising occasionally hadn’t been enough. Mal had taken up Pilates, Owen had started running more regularly and was apparently eating egg whites, and Donovan had begun walking everywhere. Mal’s father had taken up gardening while Evelyn had developed an obsession with making sure everyone ate their greens.
But the changes had been worth it. Her dad had bounced back with a new lease on life and a new attitude. One that he’d turned into a contract to do whatever he wanted. First, it had been his vegetable garden, then nosing around in his kids’ personal lives, followed by the decision to hand over the reins of the family business to his three children.
Mal still wasn’t sure her mother was ov
er the loss of her flower bed by the side of the house—the once beautiful magenta peonies razed to make way for tomatoes and cucumbers. Or that’s what Evelyn pretended, which Mal now suspected had just been a ploy to get the backyard greenhouse she’d been hinting at for the last five years.
“I’m taking care of myself,” she told her mother. “I eat right and Grace and I still go to Pilates three mornings a week.” Even on Saturdays, which had once been her day for lounging in yoga pants with a vat of hot coffee, a cinnamon bun, the crossword and a pen.
“I know.” The line between Evelyn’s eyebrows eased slightly as she nodded. “But it’s a mother’s right to worry about her children.” She fussed with the high collar of Mal’s dress, smoothing it down. “Have you spoken with Travis?”
Mal forced herself not to react, not to flinch or rear back, even though her bare fingers suddenly seemed to burn with the weight of the missing ring. “Only for a couple of minutes.” Which had been plenty. Even if she still felt as if that final bit of closure continued to elude her.
“And you’re okay?” Evelyn’s dark-brown eyes, the same color as Mal’s, darted up to meet hers.
Mal fiddled with her hair, the chocolate color, like her eyes, inherited from her mother. “I’m not going to throw myself into the Pacific Ocean, if that’s what you’re asking.” Just how bad did she look, anyway? Travis was an ex and their breakup had been painful, but it hardly required the family to treat her as though she was glass—fragile, easily shattered. But then, there was Owen...
Mal felt the beginning of a scowl twist her lips. Owen and his ham-fisted attempts at creating conversations could definitely treat her more delicately.
Evelyn frowned. “That was certainly not what I was asking.” She waved at her husband who was never far from his wife’s side when they were in the same general area. “Gus. Come take a look at your daughter.”
“Hello, love.” Gus pressed a kiss to his wife’s cheek, then his daughter’s. “Hello, princess.”
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