Kisses Between the Lines: An Echo Ridge Anthology (Echo Ridge Romance Book 2)

by Lucy McConnell

  “Says you.” Despite his words, Austin backed behind the counter.

  Deciding she had more important information to glean, Fay let it go as she poured them both some coffee. “So what’s this all about?”

  “You’ll find out if you join us for dinner tonight,” Bret said. “Austin’s family is coming to Dad’s for a barbecue and we’ll tell everyone about it and answer questions all at once.”

  Fay was going to make excuses— she had so many things to do and she turned down family dinners as a rule, but Austin piped up. “Unless you’re too busy to make time for your family. Your mom said she hasn’t seen you in weeks. Not since we were here last.”

  Jerk, talking to my Mom behind my back. He always knew how to push her buttons. But he was right. It had been a while since she had made it for dinner or stopped by. She had spent more than enough time there with all the trips the two men had been making to town over the summer and hadn’t the patience for more— especially if she was going to be the subject of her mother’s full focus. A moment to consider the day’s plan was all she needed— she did have Hank on shift all evening and Maria was scheduled through the dinner rush. It wasn’t usually too busy on a Wednesday night, but taking an hour or two for dinner with her family was going to eat into her precious prep time. “Fine. I’ll be there, but I can’t stay all evening, I have things to do here.”

  “We understand.” Austin took a sip of his coffee. “This is so good. Do you think we could each get a slice of peach pie too?”

  “The coffee was free. The pie is going to cost you.”

  “That’s okay, I’m celebrating, I’ll pay. You want some peach, or the apple?” he asked Bret.

  “Apple all the way.”

  Fay plated some for each of them, heating it and adding ice cream to Bret’s just to needle Austin. Their tug of war ran both directions, after all.

  “Hey, I never said I was paying for à la mode,” Austin complained.

  “That’s okay, the ice cream was my treat, because I know how much he likes it.”

  “I like ice cream, too,” Austin said.

  “I know.” Fay flashed a cheeky grin before turning to Maria to instruct her only to bill them for the pie. Maria nodded and murmured something shyly. Austin smirked in return; Fay pretended not to see. “What time is dinner tonight?”

  “Six thirty. Don’t be late.” Bret pointed at her with his fork, before scooping up another bite of pie.

  “You make the best peach pie on the planet,” Austin said.

  Fay looked at him, surprised by the compliment. “You’re lucky you came in today. That’s the last of the fresh peaches for the season.” She’d had to beg them from a friend who had a very late-producing peach tree. She only made the pie when it was in season because fresh was her byword.

  “Apparently I’m extra lucky when it comes to you.” He shot her the knowing grin that drove her completely nuts. It made her think about that day.

  In defense, she started backing away— she did have a lot to do. “Enjoy your pie, if I’m leaving here for dinner, I need to get some things done. Make sure you leave Maria a nice tip.”

  Austin’s chuckle followed Fay back into the kitchen. Why did he always get under her skin? She took two deep breaths, then donned her hair net again. She needed to get this cookie dough mixed and chilling so she could start on desserts for the evening customers.

  FAY ARRIVED A FEW MINUTES late to dinner. Obviously she hadn’t changed as much as she would like to think or she would have managed to heed Bret’s advice of punctuality. She hurried up the front walk, anxious about being late, knowing Austin would rib her about it and wondering what exactly the two of them had up their sleeves. They had been working in different cities since graduating from college, and in totally different fields so she had no idea what they planned to do if they moved back to Echo Ridge.

  She could hear the talking and laughing in the backyard as she approached the front door. The street was full of cars so the extra relatives must have arrived.

  Fay walked through the cozy bungalow her mother and step-father had moved into once all the kids had gone off on their own. It had a spare room, but they would never have space for everyone to come home for the holidays. Fay had struggled with their decision to sell her childhood home, though she had been in New York City and rarely visited at the time. They had stayed in her childhood home when her mother remarried which had been easier for Fay, but less easy for Bret and his younger sister, Erica.

  She hadn’t appreciated it at the time, but now, looking back, she understood some of what they had been going through. She greeted her mother and Austin’s mom when she came into the kitchen. “Hello, I should have known I’d find you here.”

  “It’s what we do.” Mom shifted carrots on the veggie tray to make more room for sliced radishes. “How are things at work?”

  “Pretty good. Busy. We have the library kick-off event next week, are you coming?”

  “I plan to. I’ve been hearing a lot about it at Quilting HoneyBees from Shennedy.”

  Fay looked out the window in the French doors to the men throwing a football on the grass. “Do you think they’ll ever grow out of dropping everything to play football?”

  “Only when they stop breathing.” Mrs. Sparks, Austin’s mom, said. “The meat should be ready soon. I’ve been marinating chicken and steaks all afternoon.”

  “Sounds like they talked to everyone about dinner tonight before they got around to me,” Fay commented as she pulled the barbecue sauce and potato salad from the fridge.

  “Someone had to be last, and it wasn’t like they waited until an hour ago,” Erica said as she entered the room from the front of the house. So Fay hadn’t been the last to arrive. She and Erica didn’t always see eye to eye on things, but they didn’t usually have conflict anymore, either. “I’m glad they called us all for the announcement— we haven’t seen you for a while.”

  “I know, my business keeps me busy.” Plus the suffocation of being under her mother’s gaze got to her if there weren’t plenty of others around. Pointed comments about her singleness and how independent she was— as if that was a bad thing— cropped up too often. Fay knew it was mostly in her own head; her mom just wanted to be more involved with her life, but she hadn’t been able to entirely rid herself of the feeling that she didn’t measure up.

  “You make your own choices. You could come to Sunday dinners more often if you wanted to.” Erica swiped a celery stick from the tray as she passed through the room and out to join everyone else.

  Fay didn’t respond. Erica wasn’t entirely wrong, but it still stung.

  “Well, we’re glad you made it today. It sounds like the boys have some news,” her mother said.

  “They said something about moving back when they stopped in earlier.”

  Her brows lifted in surprise. “That’s more than I’ve heard.” She checked the clock on the wall. “Did you invite someone to join us tonight?”

  And the pressure about her dating life began. She made it a whole three minutes. “No, Mom, I’m not seeing anyone right now.”

  “You haven’t dated at all since you moved back,”

  “Nope.” Like Fay needed her mother to point it out. Though when she was supposed to have time for a social life, Fay had no idea.

  Bret’s father, Mike, poked his head into the room. “Hey, ladies, we’re ready when you are. Hey, Fay! It’s great to see you. Bret said you were all out of peach pie for the season. I’m so bummed.”

  She grinned. “If I can track some peaches down at the grocery store, I’d be happy to make another one, for you.”

  “You spoil me. What can I do to help you ladies?”

  “Help us carry this stuff out.”

  He called in reinforcements and a few minutes later both families were loading their plates with good things to eat. Fay felt guilty. She could have baked up some cookies or something— there was time to make more dough tonight. When she had called her mom
, though, she had been told not to worry about it since it was so late in the afternoon, but just to bring herself this time.

  “So what’s this all about?” Fay asked when the last person finally sat to eat their food. There were no grandkids in the group yet, though Austin’s sister-in-law was nearly ready to pop.

  “Besides the joy of seeing you without your hair net or apron?” Austin asked.

  She flicked an olive at him and he grinned.

  “Seriously you two, don’t you ever grow up?” Bret shook his head. “Austin and I have been talking about a business venture for quite a while. We have complimentary job skills and we’ve been saving money and checking out options.”

  “What are you going to do?” his father asked.

  “We’ve done plenty of market research, found a building for the business, and arranged financing. It’s been a long project.” Austin’s additional information was not very informative, though Fay was glad to know they had a real plan in place. Of course, they were both successful and hard-working in their chosen careers; Bret had been building websites since high school, and Austin had been managing the other ski shop for several years. Still, starting a business was much, much different from working for someone else— even in management as Austin had been doing.

  “But what is it?” her mom asked.

  “We’re going to open a ski and mountain bike shop— Ruby Ridge Recreation.” He paused for dramatic effect while everyone stared in surprise.

  “We’ve signed paperwork to buy the old Timberline restaurant halfway up the mountain. The owners sold off the kitchen equipment and tools so the kitchen will make a great storage and office area. The former dining area will work for our seasonal items.”

  “We’ve even arranged a promotion with one of the bigger hotels to cross promote and I’ve started designing the website.” Bret pulled out his tablet and scrolled to something, then passed around the front page. He really was a whiz with HTML, though it was obviously far from done.

  “We figured with my sales and retail skills, and his marketing and website skills, we should be able to make this happen,” Austin added. “We’ve both been crunching numbers and tallying assignments to make sure we can live with it. He’ll keep working part-time for his old job so we know we have some income flowing in while we set up the business and get everything stocked. We’ll be bunking down in the old storage room for now. Our first shipment arrives in a week, so we’ll keep plenty busy.”

  “Wow. That’s a big deal,” Fay said. “Congratulations, I’m sure you’ll do well.” Bret and Austin were avid mountain bikers and skiers, though they had been living in different parts of the state since going to college so they rarely got to do things together. She always figured the love of skiing was why Austin had never left the job he’d taken at the ski shop after college. She had suspected he just didn’t want to leave the free ski pass that came with it.

  Apparently he did have higher aspirations. Not that she blamed him for taking something— anything— when he graduated. By then the market had been flooded with newly minted MBAs and there were not nearly enough jobs to go around.

  Kind of like artists looking for their big break. When she had reached New York, she hadn’t exactly stumbled across a major gallery who wanted to do a show the first week.

  Okay, she never had. Echo Ridge Arts, the gallery next to her store now, had half a dozen of her pencil sketches and had sold a couple. It wouldn’t exactly support her, but it was fun to finally have some sales to assuage her ego.

  “So when do you plan to open? Isn’t it late in the year for mountain bikes and too early for skiing?” Austin’s mom asked.

  “It’s the in-between season, yes, but it will give us plenty of time to get our merchandising up and things listed online. We have some plans to bring in money between now and when ski season starts. Don’t worry, those bank guys made sure we had every contingency covered before they agreed to loan us anything.”

  Fay tuned out the talk as the family peppered the two men with questions. Instead, she thought about how Austin would be around a lot more. Having Bret here would be nice. Really nice. They hadn’t exactly been besties after their parents married, but they had developed a friendship in the past couple of years. It was Austin who would be the problem.

  Why hadn’t she ever been able to let go of that day at lunch? Seriously, what had she been thinking, anyway?

  She listened half-heartedly to the conversations around her as she ate. Her mind strayed back to the food order she needed to put in for their delivery Friday, and whether or not she could afford to hire only one person or if she could squeeze in money for two part-timers to fill in holes in the schedule and give her breathing space. She hardly ever had time to draw with the business sucking up all of her time, and she needed the artistic outlet every bit as much now as she had as a teen.

  When she went inside to grab the brownies and ice cream for her mom, Austin volunteered to help. Great.

  “You’ve been awfully quiet,” Austin observed when she opened the freezer door to look for the ice cream.

  “What is there to say? I hope you don’t destroy my brother’s credit rating?” She pushed the vanilla bean ice cream into his hand.

  His free hand grabbed her wrist before she could pull away and he set the ice cream carton on the counter, then ran one chilly fingertip along her palm. “You know what I was thinking today? About the day on the stage— ”

  When her hand started to tingle and she remembered vividly how it had felt to be wrapped in his arms, kissing him— the excitement and security of his arms had made her feel like she was the only thing that mattered. She yanked her arm from his grasp. As she glared at him, she wished she could zap him with her laser eyes. Someone totally needed to invent those. “You keep your memories to yourself.”

  “You’ve been thinking about it too?”

  She pointed to the ice cream. “Take that outside. And don’t bring up that day ever again.”

  His eyes darkened with unhappiness. “Fine. Do you have a spoon for this?”

  “I’ll bring one out.”

  He sauntered out the door. How could he want to discuss it again now? She sometimes went months without thinking about it. Well, weeks. Okay, maybe days. If his name never popped into her head. Now he was back, she was pretty sure that wasn’t going to be the case anymore. Dang it. She really wanted to put it all behind her.

  She sucked in a deep breath and yanked open the drawer where the spatula and ice cream scoop were kept. It would be fine. Maybe if they saw each other more often, her memories of that day would fade.

  Why hadn’t she been able to let it go? It had been ten years.

  What had he been thinking? Austin watched Fay move around the group, distributing bowls of ice cream— always taking care of others and acting the hostess. He loved the shock of pink in her hair, the way she expressed her style with her layered necklaces and somewhat bohemian clothing choices. Most of all, though, he loved the spark of temper and intelligence that shone in her eyes no matter what she did.

  He had been interested in her as a teen, and in the past several months as he and Bret had made multiple trips back to Echo Ridge to get the business ready to start, he had felt those feelings renew.

  He must be an idiot, knowing how easily antagonized she could be, to approach her like that. If he had shut his gob long enough to think, he would have realized there was no possible way she would go for it. He was actually considering himself lucky that she hadn’t decked him.

  For some reason, when she was involved, his brain and his mouth never connected properly, not since they were kids. Even before Bret’s dad had married her mom.

  Fay moved between the tables, smiling at his parents as she handed them each a plate of dessert, but she looked uncomfortable.

  He was probably responsible for her discomfort. He was such a dough head sometimes.

  “So which ski brands are you going to carry?” Bret’s dad asked.

/>   Austin turned toward him and they discussed the relative merits and drawbacks of the few brands they were starting with, though he was fully aware of where Fay was all the time and with whom she spoke. Being excited about the store helped him focus on the topic at hand. Then Fay took off before anyone else, claiming she needed to get back to the café for cleanup— without giving him so much as a cursory glance since their short conversation inside. He was left with the driving desire to make her look at him as more than her brother’s idiot friend.

  Apparently it was going to be an uphill battle, but he thought it might be worth it, if he could convince her to at least give him a chance.

  Bret joined the conversation and it moved more toward the online side of things, leaving Austin with enough brain power to wonder— not for the first time— if he was a complete idiot for not shoving his old feelings down one of the empty mineshafts around them where it would never be seen again.

  FAY WAS MAKING HER FINAL cookie delivery for the Daughters of the American Revolution meeting when her cell phone rang. It was the café, of course.

  “Fay, we’re swamped. I’m sorry.” Maria’s light Spanish accent flowed through the line. “Even with your friend helping, Hank is going crazy and I can’t keep up.”

  “No problem, I’ll be there in a minute.” Fay hung up, wondering who the friend was who was helping Hank. She said goodbye to Lenora Prisby and wished her a good meeting.

  In seven minutes she was walking in the back door of her café to find Austin at the fryer and Hank at the grill.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Saving your bacon. Did you forget about the football game tonight? Get up there and help Maria.”

  How could she have spaced on that little detail? It wasn’t homecoming, but the game was against one of their biggest rivals and she should have realized it would draw a huge crowd of locals and the rival visitors. She was annoyed at him for being there and even more annoyed that he was helping— but she couldn’t see a way to get rid of him and she hated the idea that she needed him. Fay grabbed her apron and dealt with her hair before heading up front. The coffee was gone in the machines and every seat in the place was full. A line of people stood in front of the register.