Harvest Moon

by Sharon Struth

  “That’s what he thinks.” Sophie grinned and rested her hand on the back of his chair. “He’s just getting used to being a little late.”

  “Where’s Jim?” Bernadette glanced up as she fished through her purse.

  “Working, but said he might come later.” Veronica hoped he did because she wanted to ask him to join her at Gail’s party. She figured a date might make it easier to face Gary and Carin, if they did decide to come.

  The waitress arrived and took Veronica’s drink order.

  When the waitress left, Sophie tipped her head toward her brother. “Hey, Ronnie. Check out Jay’s shirt and Trent’s hat. We’re starting a new Northbridge fashion trend. It was Trent’s idea.”

  She glanced to the two men. Jay wore a beige T-shirt with a fancy compilation of L-H-V, the vineyard’s logo, in maroon lettering above the left breast pocket. Trent’s baseball cap had the same color, with “Litchfield Hills Vineyard” scribbled across the front. He studied her with serious blue eyes, and then lifted his lips in a soft smile. “Fashion trend might be pushing it.”

  Duncan chuckled. “We’ll label the line ‘Rural Gucci.’ When do I get my shirt like Jay’s?” He stared at Trent.

  “Trust me, bro, you’re getting several.” Trent grinned. “I expect you to say good-bye to the L.L. Bean catalog.”

  Trent had rolled the sleeves of his maroon button-down shirt to his elbows and the collar was left unbuttoned, enough for her to catch a few dark chest hairs. He leaned forward and crossed his muscular forearms, strong as if he’d worked on the farm his whole life.

  With Ry’s e-mail fresh on her mind, Veronica considered how Trent probably viewed her in class. No doubt as difficult, especially given her reluctance to participate. Did Trent seek advice from others to get to the bottom of Veronica’s psyche? She hoped not.

  How strange she’d come in contact with two men who both happened to be self-defense instructors and musicians. Could it…could they be…

  She covered a short burst of laughter in a cough, slipping her hand over her mouth to hide her smile. Of all the ridiculous thoughts she could have, this one was way out there. The world was a big place, the Internet, even bigger. And besides, Trent was nice enough, but he was no Ry.

  “Oh man, you guys should’ve seen him today with Delilah.” Jay pointed with his thumb to Trent. “He’s got a serious crush.”

  Trent raised his dark eyebrows. “Hey, you’ve got that backward, pal. She’s got the crush on me.”

  Sophie had mentioned a new hire at the farm, someone to help in the office, but Veronica was appalled the two men would discuss a woman this way.

  Meg’s attention swiveled back and forth between the two men. “Who’s Delilah?”

  “She’s new,” Trent said. “Right, Soph?”

  “Yup. Just arrived Monday. I’d say it was love at first sight for you two.”

  A pleased grin spread across Trent’s face. “You might be right.”

  “Don’t you already have a girlfriend?” The words slipped out of Veronica’s mouth before she could stop herself.

  Trent shrugged. “Delilah is special.”

  Veronica raised her hand. “Sorry. You don’t owe me an explanation about your love life.”

  “It’s a fair question.” Trent’s gaze flashed her way, with it the suggestion he’d caught the scent of her envy. “But if you saw her, you’d understand. She has perfect tan skin, silky smooth ears—”

  “Smooth ears?” Meg crinkled her nose.

  Dave rubbed Bernadette’s back. “That’s what drew me to this one.”

  Bernadette rolled her eyes, then grinned at her husband. “Save the corny jokes for the congregation, dear.”

  While everyone laughed, Trent waited and smoothed his chin with his hand. “Of course, the real draw is those exotic almond-shaped eyes.” He glanced at Jay. “Anything you want to add?”

  “Besides that she’s a real beauty? Let’s see…” Jay wrapped his hands around his beer and narrowed his gaze, giving the matter due consideration. “Oh, a gorgeous long neck.”

  Trent nodded. “And let’s not forget her legs.” He wolf-whistled. “Slender…just the way I like them.”

  Veronica tried to ignore the strings of jealousy tugging at her heart. If a woman like Angie couldn’t satisfy Trent, then he obviously—The brakes of her mind screeched to a stop. A long neck, exotic almond eyes, silky ears? Her lips twitched with a near smile as she figured out their game, but she didn’t want to ruin their fun, especially when Meg listened with rapt attention, clearly falling for their act.

  Trent glanced at Veronica, and she shook her head at him. A knowing sparkle in his eyes suggested he realized she’d caught on, and he winked.

  “She has only two issues.” Jay looked at Trent. “A thousand sit-ups a day won’t curb her bulky mid-section.”

  “Word, my friend.” Trent high-fived Jay, both grinning like little boys. “And that voice…”

  “What’s wrong with her voice?” Meg’s green eyes opened wide.

  Trent looked at Jay “Want to help me out with a demo here?”

  Jay nodded. They opened their mouths and out came a horrible bleating sound, like a dying car horn. Heads at nearby tables turned while Sophie and Duncan burst into laughter, followed by the two men.

  Meg frowned, her face contorting into one confused mess. “Wait. Is this a goat?”

  “Our newest Nubian,” Jay said, pride in his voice.

  Veronica gave in to a smile. “You’re both sick. You know that, right?”

  Trent grinned, a sweet and playful expression that curled around her heart.

  As quickly as the sensation struck, she pushed it aside. How did Trent, a man who possessed none of the qualities she’d deemed appropriate in a man, always leave her wanting the type of relationship she’d given up on for her own protection? Yes, something about him stirred the pot of passion she’d placed on the back burner. These overtures of his were innocent enough but robbed her of the much-needed control.

  Jay raised his brows, staring across the room. “Be right back,” he said to nobody in particular as he rose from his seat. “Trent, come with me to talk to Bart.”

  The two men stood and headed toward the bar. As Trent passed Veronica’s chair, she tried her damnedest to keep her head down, but as if a puppeteer pulled a string, she automatically lifted her chin and met his gaze. He smiled, causing the fragile edges of her shield to curl.

  Bernadette used her elbow to tap Veronica’s arm. She leaned close and whispered, “Good thing Jim’s not here.”

  * * * *

  Half-hearted applause followed Sophie and Duncan as they left the stage and returned to the table. Trent didn’t think their version of “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” was even close to the original, but it gave the audience a few laughs.

  Duncan groaned and dropped into his seat. “That was painful. Who was I again, Elton or Kiki?”

  Sophie stood behind him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek. “Now you ask.”

  Trent picked up his drink, gaze passing over Veronica’s empty seat.

  He glanced around the room and spotted her at a table of three other women, one who he’d seen working in the library. A few minutes later, Veronica stood, lifted her glass, and walked to the bar.

  He pushed back his chair. “Be right back.”

  As he passed the bar, he made eye contact with Meg’s husband, who Trent met earlier. The guy had disappeared with his friends the second Meg sat at their table. Trent nodded at him, but Roy only blinked a few times, then leaned closer to his friends and spoke quietly.

  Shaking off the childish disregard, he approached Veronica, who leaned on the bar and waved a hand to the bartender. He admired the gentle curve of her waist, the way her skirt hugged her hips, and the playful flair of the bottom just above her knee, more whimsical than she often acted—at least around him.

  He sidled next to her
and caught her playing with a short strand of pearls, but she let her fingers fall as she met his gaze.

  Laughter rose at the other end of the bar. Roy and his posse stared Trent’s way, obviously talking about him. The heat of humiliation crept up Trent’s neck, but being the new guy in town, he wasn’t surprised to find not everyone would welcome him. They were probably friends of Buzz. Veronica twisted her neck and stared at the other men for a few seconds, too.

  She turned back to Trent, quietly studied his face for several seconds, her irritation obvious. “Roy’s an ass. Ignore him.”

  Trent gave her a closed-lip smile, as if it didn’t matter. “I knew a guy in high school like him, too.”

  “Exactly. Meg could’ve done better.”

  Trent pulled out his wallet and motioned to the bartender. “What can I get you?”

  “Oh, you don’t have to—”

  “I’d like to.” He removed a twenty just as the bartender arrived. “I’ll have a Beck’s N.A. and she’ll have…” He turned to her and raised his eyebrows, wondering if she’d comment about his non-alcoholic beer order.

  She lifted the glass with the Heineken logo on the outside. “Another of the same.”

  The bartender nodded and walked off.

  “You mad at me or something, Pearls?” He tucked his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans.

  “Angry? No.”

  “Good. Because if anybody should be upset, it’s me.”

  She twisted to face him and rested her elbow on the bar top. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Hey, you pushed me to the floor in class. I think you left a bruise.” He rubbed his backside, but made sure his tone teased.

  She didn’t smile, but her expression softened. “About that, I’m sorry I pushed you so hard.”

  “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m teasing you. Our friendship seems to have gotten off on the wrong foot. Maybe we could change that.”

  “You know, just because we keep running into each other…and I danced with you…and…” She paused. “Well, it doesn’t mean anything. We’re both dating other people, and you’re a good self-defense instructor and nice and all, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me.”

  “Well, what would that be?”

  “Like I’m interested in you or—”

  “That’s good because I’m sure not interested in you.”

  Her brows rose. “Good. Then we’re on the same page.”

  “The exact same page.”

  The bartender brought their drinks. Trent paid while she poured hers into a pilsner.

  He lifted his bottle and tipped it to her glass. “Then cheers to friendship. Doesn’t mean we can’t we be friends. Right?”

  “Sure.” She lifted her glass to his. “To friends.” She drank, watching him suspiciously over the rim of her glass.

  Placing her drink on the bar, she pushed a clear saltshaker close to a matching peppershaker, squaring both in front of the napkin dispenser, order restored.

  She looked straight ahead at the mirrored wall against the bar’s back. When he followed her line of sight, they made eye contact through the mirror.

  He cleared his throat. “You know what I think?”

  “No. I’m not clairvoyant.” This time, she almost smiled.

  “I think you’re afraid to be nice to me.”

  The near smile fell fast and she snorted. “Now we know you’re not clairvoyant.”

  For a long second he didn’t respond, and then a trust building exercise he’d read about popped into his head. He faced her. “How about we do something together, to work on our relationship?”

  She turned from the mirror. “I told you. I’m not interested in—”

  “I meant our friendship.” The idea made his chest flutter, the gesture risky but filled with great reward if it worked. “Something to allow us to get more comfortable with each other. Especially during the self-defense class. Are you game?”

  She laughed, a sound falling somewhere between disbelief and amusement. “You’re so obstinate. I don’t need help in class. I’m only there for my niece. Remember?”

  “Uh-huh. So humor me. Stay here for a sec.”

  He ran over near the stage and opened a binder filled with songs for the karaoke machine and quickly flipped through the pages, until he found the perfect one. After grabbing a slip from the nearby table, he wrote down the name. On his way to take the song to tonight’s karaoke host, he glanced at the bar. Veronica watched him, a slight furrow to her brows.

  “Hey, remember me?” He stuck out his hand to a stocky guy with a buzz cut. “Eddie, right?”

  “Yeah. You were here with your brother last week.”

  “Any chance I can get moved up on the list to sing? Maybe go next?” Trent handed him the slip. “I’m trying to get the lady over there at the end of the bar to sing with me, and if I don’t act fast, she’ll split.”

  “You mean Ronnie?”

  Trent nodded. Eddie took the paper and read. He looked up, snickered. “Ronnie rarely sings on karaoke night. Especially stuff like this. Consider yourself moved to the front of the line.”

  Trent thanked him and worked his way through the tight rows of tables to the bar. “Okay, we’re on the list.”

  She blinked. An are-you-crazy look spread across her face. “I beg your pardon.”

  “We’re going to sing. Together. So we can get to know each other.”

  “We know each other, and I don’t want to sing.”

  He moved close and lowered his voice. “I once read that coincidences mean you’re on the right path. Since that elevator ride, I don’t think it’s a coincidence we keep running into each other. Do you?”

  She scowled and sipped her beer.

  “Come on. Maybe our paths have crossed so that we can sing together tonight.”

  She stared at him hard, her brows furrowed deep. Restlessness danced in her eyes, raw emotion of some kind. “If I do this, will you leave me alone in class?”

  He nodded, but the promise might be hard to keep.

  An ear-splitting rendition of “Sweet Caroline” finished at that second. “Is that a yes?”

  “It’s a maybe. What song did you pick?”

  Before he could answer, Eddie’s voice rumbled through the microphone. “Folks, you’re in for a treat. Tonight my pal, Trent, and Northbridge’s own head librarian are here to perform a classic from the movie Grease, ‘Summer Nights.’”

  Veronica’s jaw dropped.

  Trent smiled sweetly, tossed his cap onto the bar top, and ran both a hands through his hair. “Ready?”

  “I can’t believe you—”

  “Too bad you didn’t wear a poodle skirt tonight, huh?” He slipped his fingers through hers and guided her from the bar. “Let’s go.”

  “You’ll pay for this,” she mumbled under her breath.

  He wove her through the chairs, despite her feeble protests, driven by a need to get her to learn to relax with him and trust him.

  “Woo-hoo, go Danny Zuko! Go Sandy!” Their friends pounded on the table and cheered, Jay the loudest of them all.

  They stepped onto the stage. Trent took both microphones and handed one to her. The music cued, the beat familiar. Trent swayed to the beat and tried to ignore Veronica’s starchy stance.

  Trent sang the opening line, and at the word “blast,” he glanced her way and winked.

  Veronica’s lips parted, her eyes glaring with disbelief, but she managed to get out her line.

  They performed together, but as they exchanged lines, he couldn’t get over how Veronica really was so much like prim and proper Sandy. Her pearls shimmered from the overhead light, and somehow her slightly starchy stance in real life came alive on stage, a natural for the part. On the background vocals, the audience filled in. Not once during the first two verses did Veronica look at him, although she did start to move to the music.

  When the audience
joined in at a line that asked if theirs was love at first sight, Trent thought he saw Veronica flinch.

  Their elevator ride. The first moment he’d ever laid eyes on her. The song’s question circled him like wolves surrounding prey, demanding he surrender an answer. He forced the idea aside and focused on building her trust, which suddenly meant everything.

  Trent shook off the deeper thoughts and mimicked John Travolta’s moves from the movie, slowly slinking to the floor and swaying his hips as he sang about sinking down into the sand.

  The crowd went crazy, and Veronica shook her head, but a teeny smile crossed her lips, making his heart lift and his earlier thoughts bombard him again.

  The first slow note of the final verse hit, declaring the end of summer. Veronica turned her back to Trent. The same beautiful tone Trent had heard at the birthday party flowed from her lips.

  He moved behind her, close, just one step from touching. He softened his voice, forgetting about the audience. He promised to stay her friend. More than anything, he wished she’d turn to face him, but she didn’t. He boldly reached out, slipped his fingers through hers, and gently twirled her into his arms. Her eyes widened, she gasped, but stayed there and gazed into his eyes.

  Her lips parted and didn’t hesitate as she sang the words about taking true love vows.

  True love vows. Trent stared into Veronica’s dark irises, the answer to the question about love now obvious as he sang his last solo line, not thinking about the words, only his swelling heart.

  Through the last verse, they focused on each other, in a place where the lines between reality and acting blurred. Her soft hands stayed in his, with no effort to leave. When they finished, the audience burst into wild applause. Neither one of them moved. She smiled at him, more sweetly than ever before, then she let go and faced the crowd to take a bow.

  A tall man wove through the tables and approached the stage. Trent squinted, recognizing Veronica’s boyfriend, Jim. Trent glanced at Veronica just in time to catch her spot Jim, too. Her brows creased. Mid-bow, she stood upright and turned to Trent, blinking at him, the magic of their duet slowly slipping away. A flash of panic crossed her face, and she swung her gaze back to her boyfriend.