The Husband Maker Boxed Set

by White, Karey

  “It’s okay.”

  “It was a splendid day.”

  “Yeah. It was. Thank you.”

  “’Til tomorrow.” He acted like he was tipping a hat that wasn’t there.

  “Bye.”

  I watched as Flynn went inside Bruce’s building.

  Angus was quiet when I got in the car. We drove several blocks before either of us spoke.

  “Are you excited for tomorrow night?” I finally asked.

  “Should be fun.”

  “I know you’re going to like her. Aleena’s amazing.”

  Angus nodded. He was so quiet.

  “You must be so tired,” I said.

  “Yeah. It’s been a long couple of days.”

  “Thanks again for coming to our rescue. I’m sorry you’re not already in bed asleep.”

  “No problem.”

  And then it was quiet again. We were almost to my apartment before either of us spoke.

  “Flynn seems like a nice guy.”

  “He is. Really nice.”

  “So you like him?”

  “I guess so. But he’s from Scotland.”

  “Scotland is probably a pretty nice place.”

  I laughed. “I’m sure it is.”

  “What if he’s the one?”

  I looked at Angus, trying to read his face. The way he said “the one” surprised me. Did he sound bitter? He kept his eyes on the road in front of us, his face as expressionless as I had ever seen it.

  “Is it too much to hope that ‘the one’ lives in the same country as me?”

  Angus shrugged. “It just seems like you’ve always been willing to give guys a chance, so why not this guy?”

  There was an edge to Angus’s voice I wasn’t used to. If I didn’t know him better I would have thought he was trying to pick a fight. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “I just don’t want you to miss out on true love.” And there was that tone again as he said “true love.”

  “Well, he’s not ‘the one.’”

  “It seems like he likes you.”

  “No, he doesn’t. Not like that. And there’s no way I want to move halfway around the world. He doesn’t want to move to America, either.”

  “I’m just saying he seemed interested.”

  “He knows I’m not looking for anything serious.”

  “How does he know?”

  “I told him.”

  “You’re a cold one.” I stared at Angus. Was he joking? Or was he being so harsh because he was tired? I decided to ignore his thoughtless comment. He had driven all the way down to Carmel to rescue us, after all.

  Angus pulled up to the curb in front of my apartment. I had never felt so ill-at-ease with him before. It felt like we had just argued and needed to make up, but that was ridiculous. I settled on, “Thank you again. I really appreciate you coming for us.”

  Angus shrugged. “You’re welcome.”

  “Have fun tomorrow.”

  “You too.”

  As soon as I was inside, Angus pulled away. Neither of us had mentioned driving me to Carmel on Saturday. After the stilted conversation, I wasn’t sure if Angus would want to or if I should try to make arrangements with someone else.

  We were still two blocks away from Fort Mason Center, but already we could hear the music. Tonight it was jazz. I would have preferred one of the singer songwriters I had heard perform before, but even jazz sounds good live.

  It was impossible to distinguish each individual aroma, but everything combined melded into a hunger monster that made me want to eat something from every truck.

  Off the Grid is like a county fair and an episode of Top Chef combined. I had been to Off the Grid several times and had never been disappointed. Dozens of tables were set up in the parking lot, with more than thirty food trucks parked around the perimeter, each offering their own specialty food.

  “What are you hungry for?” Flynn asked as he looked around.

  “Everything.”

  “Then we’d better get started.”

  People were everywhere. Every food truck had a line. The line at Bacon, Bacon, and More Bacon was at least twenty people long. Paella for People had already sold out and all that remained was their mouthwatering picture.

  It took about an hour, but by the time we were finished, we had shared a Say Cheese apple and cheddar grilled cheese sandwich, an Emilio’s tamale, Your French Chef’s sausages, Happy Dumplings potstickers, a Pie in the Sky chicken pot pie, candied bacon from Bacon, Bacon, and More Bacon, and Cream of the Crop’s chocolate crème brulee.

  “I think my eyes were bigger than my stomach,” Flynn said. We were sitting at a table across from the band and had just finished our dessert.

  “I know. I always say I’m not going to get carried away next time, but then I do.”

  “I just wanted to try everything since I may never get to come again,” Flynn said.

  “What’s my excuse? I should come every week and limit myself to two trucks.”

  “How would you choose?”

  “I know, that’s the problem.”

  “I need to walk some of this off.”

  “Good idea,” I said, scooting away from the table.

  We walked from Fort Mason Center down Marina Boulevard. A few sailboats drifted out in the harbor, enjoying the breezy evening.

  “Was it an American girl Bruce followed to San Francisco?”

  “Aye. Her grandmother lived in Stornoway. She came to stay for a while after her grandmother broke her hip. Bruce had just finished at University and they met over the summer. He fell hard.”

  “Did she? Fall for him, I mean.”

  “I don’t know. Seems she liked him. She told him he should come to San Francisco, so he did. Broke Jessie’s heart. And then Kendra broke his.”

  “Sounds like a lot of broken hearts,” I said.

  “Not many people get through it all without one.”

  “There’s too much heartbreak. Why can’t we just find the right one and skip all the pain?”

  “That’d be easier. But you wouldn’t be the same Charlotte if you’d never had your heart broken. None of us would be the same.”

  “So Jessie liked Bruce?”

  “Since primary school. He liked her too, until that summer. But then he followed Kendra to San Francisco and never came back.”

  “Maybe Jessie should have followed Bruce. Helped mend his broken heart.”

  Flynn laughed. “I don’t think Jessie would ever move from the Isle.”

  The lights on the Golden Gate Bridge glowed in the distance.

  “That’s quite a sight,” Flynn said.

  “When I was in high school, we walked across the bridge for a fund-raiser. A boy a couple of years older than me got paralyzed in a car accident and someone organized a walk-the-bridge thing to raise money for a wheelchair that could be operated by barely moving your hand, or something. I’ll never walk across the bridge again. It’s a lot higher than it looks and it was so windy. I was a little freaked out.”

  “Charlotte’s afraid of heights?” Flynn’s tone was teasing.

  “A little.”

  Flynn arched his eyebrows.

  “Okay, more than a little. But I think it’s justified.” I told Flynn about my disastrous hot air balloon ride.

  He nodded. “Are you going to conquer your fear by taking another ride?”

  “No way.”

  Flynn laughed. “I guess we’re all afraid of something.”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “Who said I was afraid?”

  “You just said we’re all afraid of something.”

  “I was just trying to make you feel better.” Flynn nudged me with his elbow.

  I laughed. “You just don’t want to tell me.”

  “Aye. That’s true.”

  “So what is it?”

  “It’s crazy.” Flynn said, shaking his head.

  “Come on. Tell me. I promise I won’t laugh.”
<
br />   “Aye, but you will. You won’t be able to help yourself.”

  “Try me.”

  “What was your favorite part of dinner?”

  “No way. You’re not changing the subject. Just tell me and get it over with.”

  Flynn let out an exaggerated sigh. “Berries.”

  I giggled. “Did you say berries?”

  Flynn pointed at me. “You lied. You said you wouldn’t laugh.”

  I bit the sides of my mouth. “I’m not laughing.”

  Flynn shook his head. “I won’t trust you again.”

  “Did you really say berries?”

  Flynn nodded. “I guess berries can be pretty scary,” I said turning my head away from him so he couldn’t see the struggle I was having.

  “You’re a mean, mean girl, Charlotte.”

  “What kind of berries are the scariest?”

  “Never trust a lass with a secret.”

  “I’m sorry. You just seem too big and strong to be afraid of berries.”

  “When I was five and Bruce was seven, he and his friends dared me to drip the juice from a Yew berry on my tongue.”

  “I’ve never heard of Yew berries.”

  “The juice isn’t poisonous, but the seeds are, so you have to be very careful. I wanted Bruce and his friends to think I was as clever as they were, so I dripped the juice on my tongue. When we got home, I told Mum what I’d done and she nearly keeled over dead from fright. I told her I hadn’t eaten a seed, but she made me drink Syrup of Ipecac until I’d thrown up again and again just to be safe. Ever since then, I’ve stayed away from berries.”

  “All berries?”

  “Aye.”

  “But all berries aren’t poisonous.”

  Flynn shrugged.

  “How sad. You’re missing out on so many delicious things.”

  “That’s what I’ve heard, but have you tasted Syrup of Ipecac?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Nothing’s worth the risk of having to drink that potion. It’s the devil’s drink.”

  I grabbed Flynn’s arm. “Oh my gosh, you’re in luck.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I let go of his arm and nodded at the sidewalk ahead of us. “Don’t stare, but look at what’s walking toward us.”

  Not far away was a fresh-off-the-ranch cowboy. At least that’s what he looked like. His boots made a staccato sound on the sidewalk. His hat looked gray, and his giant belt buckle sparkled, even in the twilight.

  “Evenin’,” he said as he walked by.

  Flynn turned around to watch the man after he passed us. “Now that’s America.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Your trip has been a success.”

  “Do you think he was from Texas?” Flynn asked.

  I laughed. “Or California.”

  It was almost eleven when Flynn pulled up to the curb at my apartment. He was in a loading only zone, but he didn’t pay any attention. He turned off the car and met me on the sidewalk.

  “Thanks for being my California tour guide,” he said.

  “You’re welcome. I’ve had fun. This was good for me.”

  We stood by the wrought iron door that led inside, but I waited to reach for my key.

  “You know, I think if I lived here or you lived in Stornoway, I’d try to put your nickname to rest.”

  My eyes settled on his feet. “I would probably let you try.”

  Flynn lifted my chin so we were looking at each other. His eyes were kind and a little smile played at the sides of his mouth. “Barmy Atlantic Ocean.”

  I wasn’t sure what he was saying, but it didn’t matter. I smiled. “Thanks for helping take my mind off things.”

  Flynn leaned against the wall like we had all night to stand out here talking, like his car wasn’t at risk of a ticket or a boot. “Ya know what might really get your mind off things?”

  I leaned against my gate facing him. “What’s that?”

  “A trip to somewhere far, far away from here.” He swept his hand in a broad gesture that was probably meant to take in my neighborhood, the whole bay area, and possibly even the entire United States. “I know a great place that’s known for takin’ away your worries.”

  “And I’ll bet you live there.”

  Flynn shrugged. “I do.”

  “Who knows? Maybe I will,” I said, even though I knew it would never happen.

  “I hope ya do.”

  And then Flynn leaned forward and kissed me. It wasn’t a quick movement, so it shouldn’t have taken me by surprise as much as it did. He just leaned forward until his lips were on mine. It wasn’t like any kiss I had ever had. His lips weren’t tentative or demanding. It wasn’t a passionate declaration, but it wasn’t a friendly peck, either. After a couple of seconds, he pulled away.

  “Bye for now, Charlotte.”

  My fingers touched my lips as I watched him walk to his car. He smiled over the top of it and gave me a little wave, and then he was gone.

  “How did it go last night?” I asked as soon as I was in the car.

  “Hi to you, too, Charlotte,” Angus said.

  “Sorry. Hi. I’m just dying to know how it went last night. Isn’t Aleena great?”

  Angus pulled out into traffic before he spoke. “She’s really nice. And very pretty.”

  “What did you do?”

  "We started the night at Off the Grid.”

  “You did? We were there last night, too. I didn’t see you.”

  “You and your Scotsman?”

  I let out an annoyed puff of air. “He’s not mine. When were you there?”

  “Early. About six.”

  “That’s why we didn’t see you. We went later. So what did you do after that?”

  “We went to a movie.”

  “A movie? You can’t talk at a movie.”

  “Don’t worry, Charles. We had plenty of time to talk.”

  “You did?”

  “We went to Marigold’s for dessert and ended up talking until about two this morning.” Marigold’s was an all-night diner a few blocks from Aleena’s apartment.

  “Please tell me you had the chocolate chip cookie pie with ice cream.”

  Angus laughed. “Sorry. I had the apple pie.”

  I sighed and shook my head. “Amateur.”

  “Don’t worry. Aleena had the chocolate chip pie.”

  “Whew! I needed at least one of you to have had it.”

  “I’m pretty sure she enjoyed it. She said she was eating it in your honor since you set us up.”

  “You talked ’til two?” No wonder Aleena hadn’t called last night like she had promised. Angus nodded. “You must have really hit it off.”

  “I guess we did.”

  “Are you going out again?”

  “I invited her to come with us today, but she’d promised her mom she would help her find a dress for her cousin’s wedding, so I’m meeting her for an early dinner before I have to be at the hospital.”

  “Wow. That’s great.”

  The overcast sky sprung a leak about the time we hit the Pacific Coast Highway and I was glad we’d had better weather the day Flynn and I had driven down the coast.

  “I was thinking we could get lunch at The Flying Fish Grill while we’re down here.” I said. “My treat to thank you for driving.” We had eaten at The Flying Fish Grill when we were in college and a group of us had driven to Los Angeles for a concert. The next morning, we had decided to take the Pacific Coast Highway home instead of I-5. It was at The Flying Fish Grill that Will had discovered he liked oysters. He’d had to eat them because he lost a bet with Angus about the elevation of Mount Lyell in Yosemite. Will would eventually learn that when it came to silly trivia, he should never doubt Angus.

  “Sorry. I’d better not. I’ve got a few things I need to get done before this next four-day shift, and I need to squeeze them in before I meet Aleena.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  I have to admit I was disappointed. I had
been excited to hang out for a little while with Angus. Except for therapy, we hadn’t seen much of each other lately and I missed him. And I’d been craving tempura prawns. “When are you seeing Finn again?”

  “It’s Flynn, and probably never.”

  “He’s gone home?”

  “He goes home tomorrow. He’s spending the weekend with his brother.”

  “Is he coming back?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Are you going to Scotland to see him?” Angus said “Scotland” with a terrible British accent.

  “No.”

  “So what was this exactly?”

  “This was me being friendly and showing him around. And getting my head wrapped around the idea of dating again.”

  Angus shook his head. “Wow. I must have misread the signals the other night.”

  “What signals?”

  “I don’t know. It just seemed like he liked you.”

  “He did like me. Just not the way you’re thinking.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “What? You think it’s not possible that a guy would want to be friends with me?”

  “Whoa. Slow down, Chuckers. I’m a guy and I’ve been friends with you forever, so I’m obviously not saying that. I’m saying if I’d had to guess the other night, Flynn would have been happy with a little more than friends.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but we’re just friends. I kept him company while his brother worked."

  “Why would that disappoint me?” I didn’t respond, and after a minute he said, “Did he kiss you?”

  I sighed. “What are you doing, Angus?”

  “Just trying to sort out exactly what’s going on with you.” His voice was flippant and had an edge.

  I shook my head and looked out the passenger window at the water. What was going on with Angus and me? We had been friends for years and it seemed we’d been on the verge of fighting more the last week than we had in the last decade.

  “So did he?”

  “Sort of.”

  “It wasn’t a ‘sort of’ question. Either he kissed you or he didn’t.”

  “Yeah. He did. But it wasn’t a big deal.”

  “Since when?”

  “What?” The word came out sharper than I had intended, but this whole conversation had a sharp edge to it.

  We passed a sign that said Carmel was thirty-two miles away. I needed it to be closer than that.