Always the Hero

by Anna J. Stewart

  “Since I gave my word at the town meeting to do my best, I’m locked in.”

  Matt’s hand fisted at his side as the hope swelling inside of him popped. “Is that a yes?”

  She nodded. “We have to start somewhere.”

  “Good. Good.” He backed toward the door, resisting the urge to babble. “If you’re done loading up your wagon, I can get it settled in my truck. If that’s okay with you?”

  “I’m done.” She sighed, as if she wished she wasn’t. “I just need to talk to Calliope before I leave.”

  “Me, too. I’ll meet you by the gate in a few minutes.” He grabbed hold of the wagon and pulled it behind him.

  On his way to a second chance.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “JUST A TWO-EGG veggie omelet with fruit on the side and coffee, please, Twyla.” Lori didn’t have to look at the Butterfly Diner’s menu to know what to order. It hadn’t changed much over the years. While Matt rattled off his choices, Lori busied herself with digging out her notebook, pen and the list she’d scribbled back at Calliope’s.

  She tugged the edge of her sweater down and squirmed to get comfortable in the booth as the edge of the table all but pinned her against the seat. Wedging herself in was never fun, but the diner was limited to booths and counter seating; neither of which was plus-size friendly. Her insides were already compressing at the idea of shoving herself free once breakfast was over, especially in front of Matt.

  Not that it mattered. Why couldn’t she think of him as just someone she was having a meal with in one of Butterfly Harbor’s oldest businesses?

  The throwback atmosphere was one of cheer and goodwill. The black-and-white-tiled floor, the old-fashioned black Formica countertops and orange upholstered stools and booths, all paid silent tribute to the monarchs that flitted through and settled in Butterfly Harbor on their annual migration trek. In recent months, Holly had begun adding various artists’ renderings of their patron insect, from kids’ drawings to etchings, to photographs that had been framed and placed on the walls between booths and over windows. Personally, Lori loved the oversize, wooden monarchs settled in and around the front door outside, as if one was walking into the perfect butterfly sanctuary—with the best burgers and pies in town.

  “You sure that’s all you want?” Matt asked as Twyla pivoted on her stick-thin legs, ink-black hair swinging long in a braid down her back, and headed to the kitchen.

  “I’m sure.” Lori gave him one of her practiced smiles.

  Lori flipped open her notebook. She’d been working so hard on putting her issues with food behind her. Stressing over calories only made her want more, so she’d finally learned to order whatever she wanted and eat less of it. Not as easy as it sounded; not when she had that shrill voice echoing in her head—her mother’s voice reminding her food was not a friend. It was in many ways her enemy and no matter how hard Lori fought it, it was a battle she’d already lost.

  In her mind, she slammed the door hard and fast on the very idea of the mother she hadn’t spoken to in almost four years. Life was too short to spend dwelling on a relationship that would never, ever be healthy.

  “What’s wrong?” Matt rested his arms on the table and leaned in. She could feel the warmth of his breath, feel the heat of his concerned gaze.

  “Nothing.” She shifted in her seat. “It’s...nothing.”

  “Now who’s lying?”

  Her chin shot up at his accusation but it was then she saw he was teasing her.

  “Come on, Lori. Tell me what’s bothering you. You’ve been acting weird since before we came in here. Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?”

  “Why on earth would I—” She took a deep breath. “You’re making fun of me.”

  “How else am I going to disarm you enough to tell me what’s going on in here.” He reached up and tapped a finger against the side of her head.

  “It’s not important.” Darn it, why did she always let this get to her? Why hadn’t she just been honest and told him she didn’t want to go to breakfast?

  “Given we’ve spent the last couple of minutes debating that fact, I’ll say you’re wrong. What is it?”

  “I just...” Could her face feel any hotter? “I don’t like eating out, okay? There. You got me to confess, copper. Take me to jail.” She held out her wrists, palms up.

  “Why don’t you like to eat out?”

  “Oh, for...” She tucked her hair behind her ears and sighed. “It’s silly. Stupid even.”

  “Clearly, it’s not. Tell me.”

  Tell him? Tell him one of her most embarrassing secrets? Tell him about how even her own parents were disgusted by her? Yeah, that should kill off any residual feelings he might have for her. “When I was a little girl and we went out to eat, my mother would constantly criticize me. I shouldn’t have that or what will people think, a chubby girl like you eating that. I embarrassed her. And she made sure everyone knew it.” All these years later and it still messed with her head. “I told you it was stupid.”

  “It’s not stupid. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” He reached over and held out a hand. She stared at his open palm, heart pounding as she realized how much she wanted to take it. Instead, she pulled her hands into her lap and locked her fingers together. “No child should ever be made to feel less than. For any reason.”

  “I totally agree. Which is why I haven’t talked to her in about a gazillion years.” That neither of her parents seemed interested in reaching out to her—or Fletcher—didn’t help the situation. It was one thing to be a child and suspect your parents didn’t like you; it was another to be an adult and know it to be true. “So, there you go. I don’t like to eat out because my mother used to make fun of me for being fat. Bring on the chocolate pudding.”

  “Have I mentioned how much I loathe self-deprecating humor?” He sat back and pinned her with a stare that made her shiver. “We’re being honest with each other now, yeah? Stop making fun of yourself. I don’t find the jokes funny and I don’t agree with them. What on earth does your dress size have to do with the type of person you are? I like who you are, Lori. I have from the first time I saw you, so suck it up and deal with it. And while you’re at it, stop making light of things that cause you pain. It’s irritating.”

  “Yes, it is.” She didn’t want to take what he said to heart. She didn’t want to believe he meant what she’d always wanted someone to say to her; someone who might actually care for her, love her. “It’s also the one defense mechanism that’s worked for me, so forgive me if I don’t bow to your lack of expertise in this matter.” She meant for the comment to tick him off, drive him away. Offend him to the point he’d settle her firmly in the friends column. Instead, she watched the anger lines around his eyes ease and the corners of his mouth flicker.

  “You’d be surprised what I know about parental disapproval, but that’s a conversation for another time. Look at us, getting to know each other. Being honest with one another. It’s almost like we’re starting a new relationship or something.”

  Lori shook her head, wanting nothing more than to walk away and forget that whenever she was with him she didn’t want to be without him. He had a way of making her forget everything that shouldn’t be important. “What’s wrong with you? Everything that should make you angry makes you laugh.”

  “And sometimes vice versa,” he confirmed with a shrug. “You have your coping mechanisms, I have mine. And for the record, I’ll give you time to work on that bad habit of yours. Not a lot, but some.”

  “How generous. Now how about we actually get to work on what brought us here in the first place?” Because this current conversation was going further off the rails than she’d ever be comfortable with. “We’re going to focus on the exterior of the houses before we tackle the landscaping issues, right?” Lori clicked open her pen and they got to work. “How many houses are we look
ing at?”

  “There are five in each cul-de-sac,” Matt rattled off the addresses from his phone. “And then we have...”

  They settled into an easy conversation, much to Lori’s relief. As long as they focused on the task at hand, as long as she had a job to do, things would be fine between them. She didn’t have to worry about what she was saying, if she said something inappropriate or misleading, not that she would. Not now that she knew the truth about his marital status.

  But the more she thought about that—beneath the anger and the hurt she felt at him lying to her all this time, she had to admit there was a blossoming curiosity about his marriage.

  None of your business, she scolded herself.

  By the time their breakfasts arrived, they’d made good progress on the project plans, probably because they had similar intentions and work processes. Lori’s stomach grumbled as Twyla set one of Ursula’s oversize blueberry granola pancakes in front of Matt and followed up with Lori’s omelet.

  She picked up her fork as a second plate for Matt arrived, this one with scrambled eggs and, sigh, bacon. “My kryptonite,” Lori joked as she avoided his gaze. “Why is bacon so tasty?”

  “I never ask the whys, I’m just glad it is.” He offered her the plate. “You want some?”

  She started to shake her head but caught the challenge in his eyes. “Sure. One piece.” She reached over and plucked one off his plate.

  “I’d say good girl, but I’m afraid you’d slug me.”

  Lori laughed and glanced outside to where he’d left Cash in the cab of his truck. The retriever had his chin resting in the open window, his dark eyes moving along with the growing crowd milling about in the morning hours.

  “You really think Cash is okay out there?” Clearly she was desperate for conversation topics.

  “It’s not like he’s coming in here,” Matt said. “He’d scarf up my bacon in about thirty seconds flat.”

  Lori swore she could see Cash’s gaze land on them, as if he heard his name being spoken.

  “He looks so sad.”

  “That’s his shtick,” Matt said. “Don’t let him sucker you. That dog is more than fine.”

  That the dog was still in Matt’s car raised another question. “I’m surprised Holly isn’t here.” She leaned her head back, searched between customers to see if Holly was behind the counter. “Saturday’s her busiest day.”

  “Like I said, she seemed a bit off this morning. Maybe she’s sleeping—” He caught Lori’s look of skepticism and stopped. “Yeah, okay, you’re right. It is unusual. Poor Twyla’s looking a little overwhelmed.”

  As if on cue, the front door dinged open and Lori’s sister-in-law, Paige, came flying through, little Charlie tight on her heels. She maneuvered her way through the crowd and darted into the kitchen.

  “Paige usually has the afternoon shifts on Saturdays, right?” She looked back outside and saw Charlie had left her new puppy tied up near Cash and the truck. “I hope Holly’s okay.” She bit into an underripe piece of cantaloupe.

  “I guess I’ll just keep Cash with me until I hear otherwise,” Matt said. “He’ll be a good buffer for us on our house tour.”

  “Buffer?” Lori almost swallowed wrong. “We don’t need a buffer.”

  “We do if we’re going to talk about what you don’t want to talk about.” He shrugged in silent challenge. “My divorce.”

  “Really? We just called a truce and you’re going to bring up your marriage now?”

  “Divorce,” he corrected. “And I’ve never known when to back off.” He’d already polished off half his breakfast while she continued to nibble on a grape. “But seeing as I’m not sure when or if another opportunity will arise where you don’t have your nose in that notebook of yours, seems as good a time as any. Go ahead. Ask me.”

  “Ask you what?” She didn’t want to do this. Not in public. Maybe not ever. Whatever had been between them was over. It had to be. He’d already lied to her once. It was only a matter of time before he did it again.

  “Anything you want. I’m an open book. Now,” he added at her unrestrained eye roll. “Now. I’m an open book now. If there’s a way to repair what I broke—”

  “There isn’t.” She cut him off but even as she said the words, she knew she was lying. That he was trying to make amends for what had happened meant something. She didn’t want it to, but it did. She also didn’t want to get her hopes up again. She was tired of having them snapped in half.

  “I didn’t want to tell you about it until I’d made up my mind. I liked how things were going with us. We were in a good place.”

  “So good you decided to leave out the part about you being married.”

  He flinched. “I was also afraid you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Well, you got that right at least. But I’m not convinced that’s why you didn’t tell me.” It was like her mouth had taken off without her. Did she really want to get into this now?

  “What other reason could there be?”

  She took a deep breath, set her fork down and cupped her mug of coffee in both hands. “I think you didn’t tell me you were married because you were holding out hope there was a chance to save your marriage.” She sipped and hid behind her cup. “I think maybe you still love her.”

  “Love hasn’t been a part of my relationship with Gina for a very long time.” That he didn’t hesitate with his answer earned him a few points. “I’m not sure it ever was.”

  “On your part or hers?”

  “Both.”

  “And here’s our problem.” No matter how hard she’d tried to prepare for it, disappointment sliced through her. “I don’t know whether I believe you or not.”

  “Then I guess I’m just going to have to earn back your trust, aren’t I?”

  “Matt—”

  “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  Lori held a deep breath, closed her eyes and sighed. “Good morning, BethAnn,” Lori lied with a strained smile. Today’s all-business attire consisted of a pea green pantsuit and a chunky gold necklace that reminded Lori of a bicycle chain.

  Matt cleared his throat and wiped his mouth. “Mrs. Bottomley.”

  “Deputy Knight.”

  Lori sat up straight and braced herself at BethAnn’s “I’m on a mission” tone.

  “What can we do for you?” If Matt was uneasy about the intrusion, he didn’t let on. If anything, he looked relieved.

  “I just wanted to check in,” BethAnn explained. “I know we all have a lot on our plates what with these various committees and obligations.” She clutched what looked like nervous hands around the satchel bag. “I also wanted to let you know, Lori, that anytime you’d like to come back on board to help with the dinner you’re more than welcome. If there’s anything I can do to accommodate your schedule, please say the word.”

  “I appreciate that.” That warning system that rarely steered her wrong blared like Def Con 3. “But I don’t anticipate having a lot of extra free time.”

  Something unfamiliar flickered in BethAnne’s ice-blue eyes. “Well, I hope we can still count on you to get those invitations out. You know how important they are to the success of the dinner especially now that we’re going in a different direction.”

  A different direction? Lori did her best to keep her expression neutral even as it almost killed her not to ask. “They’ll be done in time, don’t worry.”

  “Excellent. Mayor Hamilton and I also discussed it and we’re going to need a planned work schedule and proposed budget for your project.” She aimed her laser-like gaze on Matt.

  “I see,” Matt said. “I take it from the personal notification that we’re the only committee who needs to submit one?”

  “You have to admit, this is quite an undertaking. We need to make sure every penny is being used to its fullest potential.” BethAnn
tapped a fingernail against the gold discs hanging from her ears.

  “Seems to me—”

  “We’ll be happy to.” Lori nudged him under the table, then realized she’d kicked the wrong leg. Her eyes went wide as an embarrassed laugh bubbled in her throat. Hopefully he hadn’t noticed.

  No sooner had she thought that than his lips twitched. He knocked her back with his foot. She coughed and covered her mouth as she said, “Rest assured we will make the most of our budget, BethAnn. I’ll be sure you have the reports by Wednesday.”

  “Tuesday would be better,” BethAnn reasoned, and her face suddenly brightened. “I have meetings with caterers all day on Wednesday.”

  “What caterers?” What breakfast she’d eaten turned to a ball of clay in her stomach. “The committee already agreed Jason Corwin would be—”

  “Well that was all because of you, wasn’t it?” BethAnn said in that breathy, flyaway voice of hers. “None of us know Jason as well as you do, and well, I’ve heard how temperamental these celebrity chefs can be. Honestly, I can’t take a chance like that. Besides, I think it’s best to spread the wealth, don’t you?”

  “Considering we only have two restaurants in town that could handle an event like this, no, I don’t.” Was this woman really so spiteful she’d put the entire festival at risk because Lori had stood up for herself? “This is a Butterfly Harbor event, BethAnn. We should be showcasing local talent and businesses, not bringing people in from the outside.” Lori’s throat went hot against the anger. Forget the effort the committee had gone to, Jason had spent the last few weeks tweaking and finalizing the menu. “Not to mention that Jason has a huge social media following that can only bring attention to the event. Have you even met Jason?”

  “I haven’t had the pleasure, no. I’m sure you understand I have to make this as easy on the committee as possible now, Lori.”

  “You don’t think you owe him the respect of a discussion at least?” Lori shot back.

  “There weren’t any contracts signed. There’s no legal reason why I can’t change my mind.” Her eyes sparked with challenge.