by C. L. Roman
“From your lips,” Alex added. “But enough about us. Let’s talk about you, Blake, and how we’re going to help you get your girl.”
I blew out a long breath. We’d filled in Cal on the drama that had been my life in the last few days, between Vegas and bracelets and wedding chapels. He’d listened and nodded, but so far, he hadn’t said much in the way of expressing an opinion.
Now, though, he leaned back in his chair and regarded me steadily. “You love this woman, right? And you’ve told her so?”
“I love her.” I played with the bones still on my plate. “I’ve told her, but I don’t think she’s heard me. I’ve tried to show her. I’ve done everything I can to make it clear how I feel.”
“But did you sit her down and say it plain?” Alex rested his elbows on the edge of the table. “Did she hear you say the words, Sierra, the love I feel for you is more than just friendly. I’m in love with you, I want to spend my life with you, and I’m totally hot for your bod. So how about it?”
I shook my head. “I can promise you that I’ve never said those words before. To anyone.”
“But you said something like it?” Cal smiled a little. “Not everyone has my husband’s gift for rhetoric. What matters is that Sierra understands that you love her. That you want to be more than friends, and that your marriage, as spur of the moment as it might have been, is something you want?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “I made it clear this afternoon. But she didn’t believe me.”
“Why wouldn’t she?” Alex cocked his head. “Have you lied to her in the past?”
“Never.” I lifted a shoulder. “Unless . . .”
“Unless?” Cal prompted.
“Lies by omission.” I glanced at one man and then the other. “I’ve known for a long time that I want more than friendship from Sierra. But I didn’t tell her until today.”
“And remind me why you kept it such a deep, dark secret?” Alex scowled. “My policy is always to be open, to tell a person how I feel. I don’t hold back. Love is spectacular. Spread that shit all over the place.”
“He’s not exaggerating.” Cal laughed. “When we met, I didn’t want anything to do with love or commitment. He wore me down through charm and honesty.”
“The hot sex didn’t hurt, either,” Alex put in. “But I digress.”
“You sure do.” Cal snorted. “Anyway, the question stands. Why didn’t you let Sierra know how you felt?”
“I thought I was. Or maybe I convinced myself that I was doing everything I could to show her, because I was too chicken shit to say it out loud.” I pushed my plate away and rocked back on my chair, balancing on two legs. “If I’d said it, she might have told me she didn’t see me the same way. Then all my hopes would have been gone, and I’d have lost a friend, too, because there was no way I could deal with just being her friend when I wanted so much more. As long as I didn’t say it, the door stayed open. The possibilities were there. Like Schrodinger’s cat—both dead and alive at the same time.”
“But you said tried to show her without words.” Cal finished his beer, watching me over the rim of the bottle.
I nodded. “Yeah. I thought I did, anyway. You know, I held her hand a little longer than usual. I told her how beautiful she is. I said things that might have come across like I was teasing, but I really wasn’t.”
“How did that work out?”
“Not that well. Haven’t you been paying attention?” quipped Alex. “That’s the kind of stuff that boys do in high school, and even then, it’s a bad idea. Let’s just say that it’s obvious Sierra didn’t get the message you were trying to send.”
“Or she was afraid to believe it.” Cal nodded slowly. “I think I’m seeing something here, Blake. What if Sierra was feeling the same way, but she was also afraid of losing your friendship? If that was the case, she might’ve convinced herself that every signal she saw was only her wishful thinking. Does that make any sense?”
I frowned. “So you mean we both wanted the same thing, but we were so worried about misreading each other, neither of us made a decisive move?”
“Pretty much.” Cal shrugged. “Can you think of any time when Sierra did or said something that made you wonder if she was trying to tell you . . . more?”
I considered. “I think maybe I can,” I answered slowly. “I guess I always managed to convince myself that I was seeing things that weren’t there.”
“Aha.” Alex grinned. “Now we’re getting somewhere. I think this is what we call star-crossed lovers, isn’t it?”
“Not quite,” Cal answered dryly. “Blake and Sierra aren’t exactly Romeo and Juliet. They’re just two people who don’t want to lose a friendship—even when both of them know they’re craving more. I think it’s more common than most people realize.” He winked at me. “But the good news is that I think we can fix this. I have an idea.”
“Oooooh.” Alex rubbed his hands together. “Cal’s ideas are the best. Tell us, oh wise one. What’s the plan?”
“Well, here’s the thing.” Cal regarded me speculatively. “You feel like you’ve been sending Sierra all these signals that she’s convinced herself don’t mean anything. I think you need to let her see what’s been right in front of her all along—only from a different perspective. She has to see everything from your point of view—from the perspective of the man who wants her to see that he loves her, not from the guy who’s her buddy. I know how we can make that happen. Or at least, I have a couple of ideas. Once she begins to realize that you’ve loved her for a long time . . . I think she’ll start to trust that you didn’t marry her out of pity or just to be nice. Or because you were blotto.”
“And if she does believe in me? In us?” I tried to keep my voice even, to keep the flair of hope out of my tone. “Then what?”
Alex chuckled. “That, my friend, is up to you.”
Chapter Five
Sierra
“To men.”
The redhead at the far side of the table lifted her bottle of beer and grinned as the rest of the women with us laughed. “To our men. They may drive us all bat-shit crazy, they may not know their heads from their asses, and they may sometimes be the most stubborn sons-of-bitches in the world, but God love them . . . they’re ours, and every once in a while, they can do something amazingly sweet.”
“Here, here.” My cousin Abby raised her own bottle to clink its neck against her friend Emmy Carter’s beer. “I couldn’t love Ry any more if I tried. I adore him, I love our marriage, and I’ve never been happier in my life.” She took a long swig and then slammed the bottle down onto the oak table. “But good Lord, the man can drive me batty sometimes.”
“Oh, don’t even start.” Emmy waved her hand in dismissal. “Ryland’s a peach. Plus, you two have that distance thing going for you—he’s away at least one week a month, so then you have all that lovey-dovey time right after. Cooper is right here in town all the time. He comes into the Tide to pester me while I’m working there, and now he’s taken to coming home mid-morning to hang out in the kitchen while I’m baking pies. The man’s becoming clingy.”
Jude Hawthorne Holt, the lovely dark-haired woman sitting next to her, laughed. “Emmy Carter, you love every minute of it. Don’t forget, girlfriend, I see your eyes when Coop wanders into the Tide to, uh, ‘pester’ you. And I’m the one who walked in on you two at your kitchen table last week. I don’t think Cooper was on his knees looking for extra pie crust under the table.”
The table erupted in laughter, and I darted a glance at Emmy, expecting to see her blushing and embarrassed as I knew I would be. But she was laughing as hard as the others and didn’t seem at all disturbed.
“All right, you’ve got me. It’s true. Cooper may be a stubborn ass sometimes, but I wouldn’t give up him or any of his annoying quirks for anything in the world.” She inclined her head toward Jude. “Just like you wouldn’t change anything about Logan. And Sandra wouldn’t trade Matt in, either.” Emmy reached down to pat San
dra’s swollen belly. “Even if he does keep knocking her up. Good God, Sandra, I can’t believe this is your fourth baby. When Matt puts his mind to a task, he doesn’t do it halfway, does he?”
Sandra, a pretty blonde whose voice still carried South Carolina in it, flushed a becoming shade of pink. “Well, we both did want a big family.” She rubbed her stomach and grimaced a little. “We didn’t exactly plan for them all to come this quickly, but Matt keeps telling me he wants to have the babies while he’s still young enough to enjoy them.”
“I’m only teasing you, sweetie.” Emmy caught the other woman’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m so impressed by how well you two manage everything and how beautiful your babies are. Besides, you’re my girls’ favorite baby-sitting client, you know.”
“Poor Sierra is going to leave Crystal Cove thinking that we’re all a bunch of whining sex-maniacs.” Jude smiled at me. “Sorry about that, Sierra. It’s not very polite for us to talk amongst ourselves about people you don’t know.”
I shook my head. When Abby had convinced me to join her for the previously planned girls’ night at the Rip Tide, the beachside bar and restaurant that Jude owned, I’d been more than a little reluctant. I was still in hide and mope mode. But sitting here with so much positive, powerful female energy was actually making me feel better.
“Please, don’t stop on my account. I’m having a blast, just listening to you. You’re all so much fun.”
Abby laughed. “That we are. I remember the first time I went out for a ladies’ night with this crowd.” Her eyes roamed around the table. “Janet was here, too—I’m sorry she couldn’t make it tonight. And Sandra had only just started dating Matt officially, I think. Emmy was single, and so was I, of course. Jude and Logan weren’t even married yet.”
“That feels like eons ago,” sighed Samantha Rivers. I’d worked out that she was Jude’s sister-in-law, married to Jude’s brother. The two women looked as though they were about the same age. “So, Sierra—have you been enjoying your visit to the Cove? Abby said you’re from California, right?”
I nodded, turning my glass of wine in a small circle on the tabletop. “Yes, I’m from northern California, about forty-five minutes outside of the Bay Area. And yes, it’s been fun to see where Abby lives and works. Oh, and of course, hanging out with Connor. He’s a sweetheart.”
There was a long moment of silence around the table as it seemed that everyone was waiting for me to say something more. I wasn’t sure what they wanted to hear.
“All right, I’m just going to say it.” Emmy swiveled a little in her seat to face me fully. “Did you really get drunk in Vegas on your birthday and marry your best friend on the spur of the moment?”
My mouth opened, but no sounds came out. “I’m—um—I’m not sure—” I turned to glare at my cousin. “I can’t believe you told everyone about—about this!”
Abby gave me wide eyes and shook her head violently. “Not me. I didn’t tell a soul any of this. I promise.” She shot me a reproachful look. “You know I don’t gossip, and I can keep a secret.”
It was true, but if it wasn’t Abby, then how the hell did all the women at this table seem to know my personal business?
“She’s telling the truth.” Jude laid her hand on my arm. “I heard about everything from Blake, when he stopped here at the Tide the other morning.”
“And Alex told me,” Emmy piped up. “When I dropped off the pies for the bed and breakfast yesterday.”
“Uh, I heard about it from Cal, actually.” Sandra looked sheepish. “I saw Blake going into the B and B, and I asked Cal who the hunk was.” Her face went another shade of deeper red. “Sorry. Pregnancy makes me horny.”
“The bed and breakfast? Blake was staying there?” I swung around to look at Abby again. “Did you know this? Did he leave?”
Abby’s lips pressed together. “I might have had a hunch that Blake was staying there. Alex may have mentioned something. But I have no idea if he’s checked out yet or not.”
“Does anyone know?” I stared at each woman in turn. “Is Blake still in town?”
Emmy and Jude glanced at each other uneasily. “Well, he hasn’t been here to the Tide since that morning I met him,” Jude said firmly. “Not on any of my shifts, at least. I can tell you that.”
“I wouldn’t know. I never actually met him, and I don’t go back to the B and B to deliver another pie order until Friday.” Emmy smiled at me. “But I do have a question for you, Sierra. Are you really going to let this man get away from you?”
It was my turn to go silent. “I . . . what do you mean? That’s not even a question. Letting him get away would imply that I have him in some sense. I don’t. We’re not . . . that way.” Even as I spoke the words, misery welled up within me.
“You’re married, aren’t you?” Emmy flipped over her hand. “It sounds like you’re more than just nodding acquaintances.”
“Well, yes, of course. We’ve been friends for ages. But the married part—that’s not real. That was . . . a mix-up.” This was what I’d been repeating to myself—the same words on an endless loop—since I’d driven Blake away two days ago.
“Blake certainly seemed to feel it was real when he told me about it the other day,” Jude remarked. She took a swig of her beer and studied me. “He loves you, you know. And I’m not talking lifelong friendship . . . though that’s certainly an element of it.” She lowered her voice. “Trust me when I say that the best love stories begin with deep friendship.”
“And not to beat a dead horse, honey, but men don’t marry women just to do something nice. It’s hard enough to get them to marry the women whom they love, let alone a chick who’s just a great friend. So if your best friend married you and you’ve convinced yourself that he did it out of anything but true love, just wipe that thought from your mind.”
“Is it that you aren’t attracted to him?” Samantha crossed her arms on the table and leaned toward me. “There’s no chemistry?” She cast a sideways glance at Jude, smirking. “No spark?”
“I—I don’t know. I mean, sure, I’m attracted to him. How could I not be? He’s perfect. And he’s the most amazing man in the world. He’s so smart, and he’s funny, and he treats me like I’m the most important person in the world. When he looks at me, I feel . . .” I paused, searching for the word. “Appreciated. Special. Precious, I guess. Treasured.”
“And you don’t think that’s important?” Emmy rolled her eyes. “Do you know how many women would kill for the chance to feel that way?”
“I think there’s a bigger question here.” Jude tilted her head and regarded me steadily. “Are you in love with Blake, Sierra?”
I felt as though the walls of the crowded restaurant were closing in on me. “I don’t know. I mean, he’s my friend, and he’s been my friend since we were kids.”
“And . . .” Jude quirked one eyebrow at me. “That sounds like a damned good basis for a strong relationship. Trust me, I should know. I married not just one but two childhood friends. I’ve never regretted either one.”
I knew a little bit about Jude’s background, thanks to Abby’s stories. According to those tales, Jude really did whereof she spoke. “But weren’t you ever worried about ruining your friendship if something went horribly wrong?”
She was quiet for a moment, and I sensed that she was giving my question serious consideration. “With Daniel, no. What was between us just evolved naturally. I think we’d always known that we were sweet on each other, and in the due course of time, that grew to be a deeper feeling, and then it turned to love and a lifetime commitment.”
Samantha laid her hand on Jude’s arm. “We all still miss him. I think we always will.”
“You’re right. We will.” Jude patted her sister-in-law’s hand. “With Logan, it was entirely different. When I began to be aware of him as more than a friend—as a man—I fought it for a long while. I never wanted to be disloyal to Daniel, and Logan had been his best friend growing up.
They’d worked together for years. I was terrified that everyone would see me as a predatory widow, or that there would be insinuations that something had been between us while Daniel was still alive. I was afraid of what my kids would think. And yes, on one level, I was worried that making a move might damage the friendship I treasured. So I never did a thing. If Logan hadn’t been braver than me . . . who knows what would’ve happened? But he was, and every day, I’m so glad he did finally tell me. I can’t imagine my life without him now. What we have isn’t just what’s happened between us since that night—it’s the friends we were as kids and then as adults. It’s the support he was to me when Daniel was sick, and then in the weeks and months after Daniel died. It’s not just romance or sex—it’s us, who we’ve been as long as we’ve known each other.” Jude nodded at me. “That’s how it could be for you, too. If you love Blake. If you’re in love with him and are willing to be a little bit brave.”
Hope and anguish churned inside me. “Maybe I already blew my chance. I sent him away. He told me that he’d been in love with me before, but he’d been afraid, too. And I told him . . .” I closed my eyes. “I told him that I didn’t believe him. I said I knew he’d married me out of pity, or because he was drunk. He tried to make me see—but I shut him down and made him leave.” I covered my face with my hands. “God, what an idiot I am.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Emmy rubbed my back in slow, comforting circles. “We’re all idiots when love is involved. When Cooper and I started seeing each other, he told me he didn’t want anything serious, and I agreed a hundred percent. It didn’t take too long before I realized that I’m not exactly a casual kind of girl. Telling him that I wanted it all or nothing was one of the most excruciating things I’ve ever done. But it paid off. Now we’re living together, and as you heard, he’s in my kitchen on a regular basis, and it’s not only pies that are cooking.”
The wicked note of humor in her voice made me giggle, and before long, we were all roaring with laughter, attracting curious glances from the tables around us.
