The sky was a clear, deep blue. Blooming wildflowers bordered the sidewalk at her feet. Irwin’s laughter mingled with the joyous squeals of the toddler. It was the picture-perfect setting for a kiss, all within sight of Gabe.
And yet Vince had called a halt. Vince, who excelled at kissing and hadn’t complained about her surprise kiss this weekend. Vince, who wanted his brothers to believe he was in a relationship so he could continue to avoid talking about their mother.
“Why?” she asked him in a voice barely above a whisper.
Vince didn’t say anything, but she saw the answer in his face. She felt it in his tender touch.
“You’re trying to protect me,” she said. The shock of it chilled her skin.
His expression didn’t change.
Protect me?
From what?
From Gabe’s jests? From prying eyes?
No.
From hurt. From heartbreak. From him.
“Vince.” Harley covered his hands with her own, intent on reassuring him she wasn’t falling in love. “The one thing I need—” a solution to her playhouse design “—you can’t provide.”
His brow furrowed. Not in anger. More like regret.
The last thing she wanted from him was regret. She wanted... She’d like... She...
And then it hit her. It hit her harder than the need to rise to his defense. She had feelings for this man. Deep feelings. Possibly...love.
She loved Vince.
In her head, the words felt right.
I love Vince.
She loved his strength. She loved how humble he was. She loved his willingness to sacrifice for others and his courage to go it alone. She loved how he looked at her sometimes as if he could look at her all day, all night, and forever.
Her father would look twice at him because of their difference in age and education. Her mother would be charmed by Vince’s manners and fall for Vince’s hair.
I love Vince.
In her head, the words felt authentic. Loving Vince seemed possible. But then again, in her head the vision of swirling balconies felt achievable. Who was she kidding? Harley was setting herself up for one whopping disappointment because Vince had vowed not to marry.
Standing there on the sidewalk, not kissing her, Vince was trying to protect her heart.
Too little, too late.
It seemed to be cracking. There was certainly a deep pain in her chest.
Gabe’s hearty guffaws echoed down the street. A window slid open behind her. A car backed out of a driveway.
Funny how Harley felt she and Vince were alone, isolated from it all. If they had been, they might be able to come to some sort of compromise.
Vince leaned in, almost as if he’d reconsidered.
She hoped he’d reconsidered.
But he merely touched his forehead to hers.
“Why aren’t you kissing me?” Her words dropped below a whisper. They were more like a sigh.
“Besides the fact that Gabe went inside?” Vince gave her a wry smile and pulled away. “We’re in the friend zone, remember?” He started walking away.
Harley couldn’t move, perhaps afraid to trip on the pieces of her heart littering the sidewalk. “I’m confused,” she said in a strained voice. There was still a kiss on the table and, of course, her tile saw. Was all that debt being forgiven?
“The jig’s up. Gabe knows it’s a fake engagement.” Vince smiled at her without devilment or agenda. “Let’s see if Martin’s is still open. I can get a coffee. You can get a tea. And then we’ll head over to Joe’s place in time for that bachelorette luncheon.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“VINCE MESSINA.” An old man with a gray ponytail and a purple tie-dyed T-shirt came to stand outside El Rosal. He stuffed a cell phone into the back pocket of his cargo shorts. “Welcome home.”
“I’m just visiting, Mayor Larry.” Vince slowed, stopping, hand extended, because his mother had instilled Vince with some manners, even if he didn’t want to talk to the guy.
While Vince had been walking, he’d been thinking about the rest of his life. Without commitment. Without love. Without Harley.
She’d told him to kiss her as if he couldn’t live without her and Vince had been struck with the sudden need to do just that.
Oh, he knew she was only kidding. But on some level, a passionate embrace seemed wrong, like cutting a corner on a marathon race or eyeballing a window opening instead of using a level.
They were falling back into the place they’d been pre-Waco, except this time they were talking about things that meant something. He didn’t want Harley to look at him as more than a friend. He couldn’t give her what she needed.
“Think twice about leaving town, son.” Mayor Larry was a two-handed shaker. He’d been the town leader for as long as Vince had known Harmony Valley had a mayor. Back in the day, he’d talked to Tony Messina several times about encouraging his three sons to be better citizens. And now he wanted Vince to stay?
The mayor’s statement almost sounded like an ultimatum issued by a sheriff in a B Western. Except the sheriff never wore purple tie-dye and usually told the bad hombres to get out of town, not hang around. Vince tested the mayor’s words for sincerity while simultaneously looking to see if the mayor was tipsy.
El Rosal had a bar, after all. And the mayor could probably get a Bloody Mary with his breakfast.
“Harmony Valley is thriving.” Mayor Larry pumped Vince’s hand, smiling at Harley. “It warms my heart to see so many of your friends and family returning, getting married, having babies. Speaking of families, introduce me to this charming fiancée of yours?”
Vince made the introductions.
And then Mayor Larry worked Harley’s hand with that same shake-and-cover, two-handed enthusiastic technique. “Young lady, I hear you’re an architect.”
Vince’s guard went up. He drew Harley free of the mayor’s clutches. “She’s an architect, all right.” Or she should be.
“Ah, here’s the town council. Just in time.” The mayor nodded toward a dated green Buick parking in one of the few open spaces nearby. “When I called they were just around the corner.”
“Sorry. We’re on our way to get Harley a cup of tea.” Vince tried to tow Harley toward Martin’s. In his experience, any time the town leaders wanted to meet with him, the news was bad.
“Just in time for what?” Harley was too polite, digging in her heels when she should have been taking Vince’s cue and finding a bunker to hide in.
“We wanted to set up a meeting with you, Madame Architect.”
“Oh, I...” Harley’s panicked gaze went to Vince. She tried to move on, but three elderly women were invading, cutting off their retreat.
Although Vince wanted Harley to return to her chosen field, he didn’t like the vulnerability on her face. He pulled her closer.
“I’m so glad we caught you.” Rose, the thin, elegant woman who’d been the object of Irwin’s affection earlier, approached them with graceful steps. She wore a long, full, blue skirt and a pink blouse with ribbons on the sleeves. Her severe white bun contradicted the subtle breeze-induced dance of her skirt and ribbons.
“Vince and Harley were heading to Martin’s for tea.” Mayor Larry looked pleased with himself, rocking back on his Birkenstocks. “We can talk there.”
“Talk about...architecture?” Harley gripped Vince’s hand as if he held her dangling from a ledge.
“Yes. That sounds lovely.” Rose introduced herself and the ladies exiting the car. “You know Mildred. That’s her with the walker. And that’s Agnes.”
“I don’t get a qualifier?” Agnes had hair as gray as Harley’s saw, but it was shorter than Gabe’s. She’d been slighted in the height department, too, but not in confidence. “My granddaughter would say I need a qualifier people woul
d respect, like Great-Grandma Overlord.” Spoken like a woman who’d been slighted.
“You need to get over Christine mentioning you were too bossy with her nanny.” Mildred lifted her walker over the curb and followed it up with careful steps. “Is that Vince?”
“That’s me,” Vince said warily.
“Rose saw you with a motorcycle.” Mildred stared in Vince’s general direction through her thick lenses. “Are you going to take your fiancée for a ride later?”
“Actually...” Vince met Harley’s gaze. He should end this now and come clean about the pretend engagement with everyone. “She’s not—”
“Running,” Harley finished for him. “The bike. Gwen Two Point Oh.”
Vince leaned down to whisper, “It’s getting hot in here.”
“I like this topic better than architecture,” she whispered back.
“I could have used you on my racing team, Vince.” Mildred’s wandering gaze was only disconcerting if she faced Vince head-on. “You could fix anything, including my Volkswagen.”
“German engineering.” Vince couldn’t keep the reverence out of his voice. Fixing it was an art form.
“Yes, yes.” Mayor Larry positioned himself to lead them to Martin’s. “You can catch up all you want at the bakery.” He set off at a good clip.
Vince and Harley followed. The three town council ladies brought up the rear at Mildred’s slower pace.
“We could make a run for it.” Vince spoke only loud enough for Harley to hear. He didn’t like not knowing what the town council wanted from her. “They’d never catch us.”
The mayor disappeared inside the bakery. Now was the time to make a move.
“Much as I want to go, it’s good Messina public relations to listen.” Harley smiled at Vince for the first time since he’d refused to kiss her, but it was as polite as her plan. “Besides, I think Mildred has a crush on you. You shouldn’t disappoint her.”
Mildred wasn’t who Vince wanted to avoid letting down. It was Harley.
Resolved to stay on his toes with the town council, Vince held the bakery door open for them.
“Welcome. Come in and keep me company.” A blond woman waved from behind the counter. The bakery was nearly empty and her apron free of stains. “It’s a light crowd today because there’s a breakfast and lecture at the winery.”
Harley ordered tea and a black coffee for Vince.
“I met Harley at the shower. I’m Tracy, a bridesmaid.” The blonde waved. “You might remember me, Vince. I’m Will’s kid sister. He’s Joe’s best man,” she said for Harley’s benefit. “Am I bringing the rest of you the usual?” she asked the town council.
There was a hearty chorus of the affirmative.
“Two coffees black, two lattes, two hot green teas and three scones.” Tracy made tea for Harley and Agnes first, and then rushed to grind beans and prepare a large, fresh pot of coffee.
The mayor directed Vince to push two rectangular tables together and once they’d all taken their seats, he called the meeting to order by slapping his palm on the table. “Our town needs an architect.”
“Why?” Harley cradled a mug of tea between her hands. “I see plenty of empty storefronts.”
“All small.” Agnes unfolded a sheet of paper with a map of the downtown area drafted in pencil. She smoothed it on top of the table. “And some of the interiors are crumbling.”
“We need to knock down walls.” Mayor Larry flicked his age-spotted hand over Agnes’s map.
“Get rid of rodents,” Rose added with a dramatic shiver.
Mildred adjusted her thick glasses on her nose and squinted at the drawing. “I’d appreciate more businesses being handicap accessible.”
Despite worrying about the stress the conversation was giving Harley, Vince was intrigued.
“That doesn’t sound as if you need an architect,” Harley said gently, if with a note of relief. She had the confidence of Agnes, the regal posture of Rose and the warmth of Mildred. “You can do all that with a structural engineer and a good contractor.”
“It’s much more than that.” Mayor Larry’s wrinkles cascaded from his smile. “I’m considering opening a retail outlet for my business. I need something unique that will speak to people, appeal to them and their wallets.”
Vince couldn’t remember what business the mayor was in, but this was just the kind of boost in confidence Harley needed to get back in the game.
“Something unique...” Harley stared into her green tea like a fake fortune teller in a traveling circus.
“And I want to build a very small theater,” Rose said. “For plays and musical performances. A small, yet grand stage. Rich acoustics. Beautiful balconies.”
“Balconies...” Harley sat back, leaning as far away from Rose as she could without falling out of her chair. Balconies were her Achilles’ heel.
The town council was waiting for Harley to say something, but it was clear she’d been knocked into a personal zone that didn’t include the rest of them. Her mouth gaped and her gaze was distant.
Vince came to her rescue. “There doesn’t seem to be a large enough population in Harmony Valley for a theater or a large retail store.” He gestured to the sidewalk, which was empty.
Tracy delivered their drinks and several scones, more than they’d ordered. She set a plate in front of Vince, along with a white paper napkin. “You look like you could use some carbs.”
Three Italian wedding cookies sat on his plate, dusted in powdered sugar. His mother used to make them every Christmas. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had some.
Mayor Larry checked his watch as if Vince hadn’t spoken. In fact, they could have cared less about Vince. And not just because he was a Messina, but because he was unnecessary to this project.
I’m unnecessary.
His ears buzzed, drowning out everything else.
He’d made himself superfluous to his brothers through physical and emotional distance. Harley wouldn’t need him to fix her saw if she embraced architecture again. And his mother? She’d never needed him once she’d left California.
That was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? To be superfluous to those he loved so their lives wouldn’t be hamstrung if Vince developed schizophrenia.
Harley swiped one of his wedding cookies, sniffed it and then returned it to his plate, wiping the residual powdered sugar on his napkin.
He could love Harley, Vince realized. She wasn’t hard to look at. She wasn’t shallow. She wasn’t high maintenance. That left a lot in between to love.
If love was what he was looking for.
Which he wasn’t.
A pink shuttle bus stopped outside the bakery. The lettering across the side said Harmony Valley Sightseeing. The double doors opened and about two dozen people spilled out onto the sidewalk. They were smiling and laughing, and carried oblong cardboard wine boxes imprinted with a black horse on a weathervane. About half of the bus riders entered Martin’s. The other half headed for their cars or up the walk, presumably to El Rosal.
“Perfect timing,” Mayor Larry said. “Here come some tourists who went to the winery breakfast.”
The driver waved to his passengers. It was Rex, the heavyset older owner of the golf cart last night. He closed the doors and drove off.
“Tourists go to the winery. They eat. They drink. They take the bus ride to the top of Parish Hill to enjoy the view. And then they come down and spend a little more at Martin’s, El Rosal or the boutique across the road.”
Agnes finished the last of her tea. “We need more things for people to do in town.”
“Yes, to capture more of their dollars.” Rose daintily dabbed her lips with a napkin.
“And their hearts.” Scone crumbs ringed Mildred’s latte like a dusting of snow. “We don’t want anyone to regret coming to Harmony Valley.”
Vince took in Harley’s delicate profile. He had to be careful or she’d regret what wonderful times they’d had.
“Finish your tea,” the mayor said to Harley. “We want to show you around Main Street.”
* * *
HARLEY HAD SEEN Main Street.
It had the bones of the century-old Gold Rush architecture: narrow brick buildings, tall, interior ceilings, ironwork porch railings. But many buildings had also been modernized with swinging glass doors, plate-glass windows and stucco fronts. Everything was straight-lined, basic construction, put in place quickly to serve the swell of fortune seekers who’d come to California.
Harley wasn’t seeking her fortune or a job in Harmony Valley. And if she had been, she’d be looking for tile work, not architectural projects. So it didn’t make sense that she let herself be swept out the door of Martin’s and along the sidewalk. Except that Rose had mentioned a theater balcony and Harley wanted to see the space.
To torture myself.
Harley’s mother used to say Inspiration never comes when it’s convenient.
For the last few months Harley had edited Mom’s statement to Inspiration never comes.
“We can’t stay long,” Vince was saying. “Brit’s bachelorette luncheon is today.”
Harley wasn’t hungry. At least, not for food. She was hungry for solutions to architectural riddles. No one had a special recipe for that.
“I’m so looking forward to the wedding.” Rose glided ahead of her. “Phil promised to make me a redhead while Brit was on her honeymoon.” She glanced over her shoulder at Harley. “He’s the colorist at Brit’s beauty shop.”
“You always chicken out on coloring your hair.” Mildred was winded, keeping up with her walker.
Harley slowed down. She was in love with an emotionally unavailable man and she’d failed at the one thing she wanted in life. Why rush?
“Are you okay?” Vince asked her in a low voice.
She nodded, knotting her fingers. If they’d been engaged for real, he’d have held her hand.
Mayor Larry led them to the corner, his long, gray ponytail swaying behind him. “This location would be ideal for Fit to be Tie-Dyed. Tourists will see my store as they enter the town proper.”
Marrying the Wedding Crasher Page 14
