French Roast

by Ava Miles

  Her rage bloomed like a mushroom cloud. “You made her last months miserable.”

  “Stop this,” he said, shoving blond hair out of his eyes when the wind gusted. “I’m grieving too. I know you don’t want to believe that, but just because Jemma and I broke up doesn’t mean I stopped caring for her. Jesus, Jill.”

  She trudged around the grave, her shoes sinking into the snow. “You broke her heart in two, and then you just had to show up with a new girl at the Halloween party to shove it in her face. That’s the last memory Jemma had, Pete.”

  He thrust his gloved hand in the air. “Believe me when I say this: If I had known what would have happened that night, I never would have come. I can’t talk about this anymore.”

  Even hearing the strain in his voice, she couldn’t forgive him. He shouldn’t have wanted anyone else.

  “What the hell are you doing here without your coat?” He pulled off his North Face jacket and shoved her into it. “You’re freezing.”

  “Just leave…me…alone.” Her teeth chattered.

  “You can give my jacket to Brian,” he said as he took off down the path, not looking back. His Jeep fishtailed around the corner a few moments later.

  “Oh, Jemma. Pete gave me his jacket.” His kindness—a reminder of the friendship they no longer shared—snapped the ribbons of control. The sobs rushed up her chest and out of her throat with a roar. She clutched the tombstone and held on.

  “Jill,” she heard Brian say as he rounded the bench. His strong hands lifted her and pulled her into his warm body. “Don’t cry.”

  The arms holding her were giving her the gentleness she’d craved. Yet she pushed back. “Leave me alone.”

  ***

  Brian took note of the daisies and Pete’s jacket. So Jill and Pete had had a run-in, too. As if things weren’t bad enough. Jill had a huge heart, but it was a two-sided coin. When her emotions were positive, they were as inviting as the Ferris wheel. When they went negative, they were like a class-5 hurricane.

  He was about to get the ass-kicking he deserved.

  He planted his feet and hunched his shoulders against the brisk wind coming down from the mountain. “We need to talk about—”

  “Your French lover? You lied to me again!” She lifted her chin, a proud move at odds with the mascara streaking down her face. “How could you? I thought we were getting close.”

  “We are.” He took a deep breath. Her obvious pain deepened his guilt. “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know what else to say. Let’s go somewhere and talk. You’re freezing.” She stepped away when he reached for her, making his gut clench. “Jill, please don’t turn away. We’ve come so far.” His mind flashed to those dismal months after graduation when she wouldn’t accept any of his calls. Panic descended.

  “Have we? From where I’m standing, you wouldn’t have lied to me if we’d come so far. How could you not have told me about her?”

  “It wasn’t relevant to us.”

  “I asked you point blank, and you don’t think it’s relevant to us?” She hit her forehead. “Gee, why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Because you take everything too seriously,” he stormed, his frustration with himself and her blurring what was right and wrong. “I was with Simca in New York. It was…complicated.” Her mouth formed a thin, straight line so he rushed on. “I told you I wasn’t a monk. It ended before I came back here.”

  “I’m not mad you were with someone, but you lied about there being anyone special.” Her green eyes cut into him like lasers. “It was serious enough for her to come here. Have you been in touch with her?”

  It hadn’t occurred to him that she’d think that. He took her shoulders and rubbed them briskly. “No! I didn’t answer any of her calls or texts. I had no idea she was going to show up like this.”

  “And you didn’t think to tell me your ex-whatever was trying to reach you? When did it start?”

  Shit. He looked away. “A few weeks ago.”

  “So, when we were ‘involved.’ And you didn’t think to mention it to me? Wasn’t it bothering you?”

  His shoulder lifted. “I ignored her. I thought she’d give up.”

  Her laugh was bitter. “Yeah, well that clearly worked. I saw how she kissed you. And it sure took you a long time to push her away.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and rose to her feet.

  “That’s not true.” He thrust his hand out to stop her from leaving. “I was in total shock. She was the last person I expected to see.” Brian rocked back on his heels, squishing snow. “I told her I’m with you.”

  Jill snorted. “Great, problem solved.” She pressed a hand to her chest, her wet eyes making his chest hammer. “If it were over, you would have told me about her when I asked. We’re supposed to be friends—first, last, and always. The rest of it…” Her voice broke.

  He ducked his head, not knowing how to respond. Telling her the full truth would be the stupidest thing he’d ever done. She would shut him out again, and he couldn’t go through that again.

  “So what does she want? ‘Cause you don’t come to Dare by accident.”

  His cough couldn’t clear his throat. “She wants me back. I told her I’m not interested.”

  She wiped her nose with her sleeve. “I hear a ‘but’ coming from a mile away.”

  He took off his gloves, grabbed her hands, and put them on her.

  “Oh, Bri.” She rested her head on his chest and sniffed.

  His arms wrapped around her and he kissed her hair, wanting to make the anguished sounds cease. His eyes burned when her tears plopped against his coat. “Jillie, please don’t cry. I’m sorry.”

  “Tell me exactly what she wants.”

  He could at least tell her that. He tucked her close. “She wants to open a restaurant together.”

  She jolted and tried to pull away. “But…” she said. He kept his grip firm. “Oh God, she wants you to go back to New York.”

  Even now the shock gave him a headache. He tried to cup her cheek, but she jerked back. “Yes.”

  “You had talked about opening a place together?”

  His insides jittered. “Yes.”

  Her face crumbled. “And New York is where all the action is. Not like boring ol’ Dare.”

  “Don’t say that! You know I love being here with you.”

  “But you’re considering it.”

  “Well, I can’t just discount it… It’s my dream to run a big-name restaurant. Don’t you remember what I had to overcome to get where I am? All the bad names my dad and lots of other assholes called me? This is important to me, Jill.” He punched the air. “And, dammit, I’m pretty confused right now, too. I never expected this, never!”

  She wiped at more tears. Seeing her wet, blotchy face and runny nose undid him. He took her hands. “I couldn’t stand to lose you again.” He kicked the snow so hard it flew like gunfire. “But the thought of forever still scares me, and the last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

  She finally threw her hands up in the air. The wind blew her red hair behind her like a flaming kite. “Well, you already have. You top the list of People Who Have Hurt Jill Hale. You need to decide what you want because I can’t not be serious about you. I don’t know if I can do this anymore. It’s like high school graduation all over again.”

  The panic hit him like a haymaker punch. He hadn’t even told her everything, and she was already pulling away, retreating to past hurts. He snagged her arm when she turned away. “Don’t say that.”

  She sniffed, looking down at her feet. “You still look at her like there’s something you haven’t resolved. It’s why you came home, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, partly.” He opened his mouth to tell her the truth. Fear strangled him.

  She tapped her foot, waiting.

  He cleared his throat. Tried again. But he couldn’t utter the words.

  She would run away for sure if she discovered Simca had been married. He couldn’t take that. She was the only stable
thing left. The only piece of Brian McConnell he still understood.

  “There were lots of reasons,” he finally said in a shaky voice. Even to his ears, he realized how paper-thin that statement was. He grabbed her shoulders. “Jill, please give us a chance to work this out. I’ll tell you everything…in time.”

  She raised her hands. “What? Like in installments? Do I look like a bank?”

  “I need more time, Jill.” God, he couldn’t tell her now. Not when she was this close to walking away. “There are reasons, Jill, and they don’t affect only me.”

  She put her hands on her hips. Pete’s coat gave her the appearance of a light green grape.

  “They affect her, right?”

  “Not just her.”

  “You must have your reasons if you’re being this stubborn. So let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” Her green eyes met his, all drenched and entreating. “I told you earlier that I love you.”

  The wind carried the cold straight into his heart. He knew what was coming.

  “Do you love me, Bri?”

  His heart stopped pumping. His mother had said she loved him, but she hadn’t hesitated to abandon him for some man. What the hell was love? He took in a ragged breath through a bone-dry mouth.

  “Jill, I’ve known you…all my life. Of course…I love you.” Even the blue jay in the pine tree seemed to laugh at him. It was pathetic.

  Her spiky, black-caked eyelids flickered. “That’s not very convincing. Let me know if you decide what you want to do. You just can’t keep coasting through life not making a real decision about anything. In the meantime, I’ll be looking into other options.”

  He squeezed her arm. “What the hell does that mean? You plan on hooking up with some guy to get back at me? Jesus, Red, that’s not you.”

  She ripped off his gloves and thrust them out. “No, it means I’ll be looking into other business options. All we do is fight about our plans anyway. My life is here. You’ve always wanted to be in New York. Maybe you should just go back there.”

  And in that minute, he knew he could never ask her if she was willing to do something long distance.

  He could live without them working together, but it shattered his heart that she would tell him to go. “You want me to leave?”

  She bit her lip. “No, but I want…you to be happy. You’ve chosen your career over me before. Why should this time be any different?”

  He stood rooted in place, his whole frame shaking. “Dammit, that’s not fair. Just give me some time to think things over. Then we can talk,” he promised. Maybe she’d listen once she cooled down a bit.

  Her hands pulled at her coat, her distress obvious. “I was going to sleep with you tonight. Did you know that? Funny how your whole chef thing has messed everything up. Again.”

  She ran off the path, punching holes in the hard snow. He watched her until she disappeared down a side street.

  Why did he feel like she was disappearing from his life again? He rested his hand on their best friend’s tombstone, suddenly worn to the bone. God, he’d hurt her.

  “Oh, Jemma, what am I going to do?”

  Chapter 11

  Jill headed up Peggy’s sidewalk. God, she needed to talk to someone who could talk back—the reality of Jemma’s absence had been hammered home after the double whammy of Pete and Brian.

  Peggy opened the door after one knock. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  “No.” Jill stomped her feet on the rug. “But no one’s molested me, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Clearly you’ve been crying. Let me grab you a washcloth. Is that Brian’s coat?”

  “No,” she whispered, trying to reel the pain back in. She couldn’t think about Pete—not when her talk with Brian was front and center in her mind.

  “Do you need a hug, Jillie?” Keith said in a froggy voice, peering down from the staircase. He’d been suffering from a bad cold all week.

  “You need to be in bed, young man,” Peggy called up to him.

  “Well, I am sad.” Jill took a deep breath. No need to bawl in front of Peggy and Keith. After she cleaned up, she’d have Margie bring her stuff over from the shop and drop her home. “You feeling any better, Keith?”

  His coughing answered for him. Peggy darted up the stairs. “Jill, there’s a washcloth in the half bath. Keith, back to bed. Now.”

  “But mom,” came the pathetic, congested response. “I want to hug Jill, and Uncle Tanner is coming over.”

  “Jill needs to talk to Mommy. I’ll send your uncle up as soon as he gets here. Now, get in bed, or I’ll handcuff you.”

  Peggy picked him up, and he curled around her. “You only cuff bad guys.” He waved a limp hand at Jill as he was carried up and out of sight.

  Throwing Pete’s coat onto the crayola-colored rack, Jill headed to the bathroom to clean her face. The person in the mirror resembled someone she didn’t want to be—a grief-stricken, broken woman. The warm water felt comforting as she washed. Restored, she retraced her steps to the main room. A knock at the door made her jump. She headed to the door.

  “Hi, there,” she said with forced gusto when she opened the door for her brother-in-law.

  “Well, hey, didn’t expect to see you here.”

  He gave her an easy hug, and she wrapped her arms around him. His big, strong body was a comfort. She hadn’t had a brother growing up, but she appreciated having one now.

  “What’s the matter, honey? You look like you’ve been crying. Did you and Brian have a fight?”

  “Brian’s ex-something came back from New York today. She wants him back, and she asked him to open a restaurant with her in New York.”

  He lifted her chin, his brown gaze gentle. “So? He’s with you now.”

  She rabitted away. “It’s what he always wanted. Plus, he’s conflicted. And it’s no wonder. She’s this gorgeous French chef, and here’s the kicker. I’d say she’s got at least ten years on him.”

  “An older woman? You don’t say.”

  She punched his arm. “He left New York over her.” She got all angry and hurt again just thinking about it. Whatever.

  Tanner led her to the kitchen. “Did he confirm all this?”

  “Mostly. He’s still being pretty evasive.” Still feeling shaky, she appreciated that he held out a chair for her. “And cut the reporter lingo. You sound just like Meredith and Grandpa.”

  “You’re from a newspaper family. You should be used to it.” He grabbed three sodas from the fridge and sat down across from her, sliding one of the drinks over. “What exactly did he say?”

  Since he was still giving her that trust me, you can tell me things look, she pulled her hair and kept talking. “He wouldn’t tell me everything.”

  “Who wouldn’t?” Peggy asked, coming into the kitchen. She hugged Tanner. “Little man has been waiting for you all morning. He’s watching a video upstairs. Oh, a beverage. Thanks. I’ve been getting zero sleep. He was up coughing all night, poor guy.” She tugged on her wrinkled black T-shirt. “I look like shit, don’t I?”

  “Mommy shit, so it doesn’t count,” he answered.

  Peggy kicked him under the table. “Funny. So, I take it we’re talking about Brian?”

  “Yes.” Jill played with her soda’s pull-top.

  Tanner cleared his throat. “Seems Brian had a secret relationship with an older French woman he worked with back in New York. Now she’s in Dare, she wants him back, and she’s hoping to open a restaurant with him in New York. Jill thinks he’s conflicted. How’s that for journalistic efficiency?”

  Jill crossed her arms. “I think it sucks.”

  “That explains the raccoon eyes. How much older?” Peggy asked.

  “Hard to tell. She’s got perfect skin.”

  “Bitch,” Peggy said. “Okay, start from the beginning.”

  Her account covered everything except for the whole sex tonight plan. She brushed at her tears when she finished. “What? No advice?”

  Peggy’s l
eaky faucet was the loudest thing in the kitchen.

  “Well, that explains the coat,” Peggy murmured. “It sucks that you had to run into Pete on top of everything.” Her friend knew she was having a hard time forgiving him for what he’d done to Jemma.

  “Yeah…So, we’re totally screwed, right? Brian won’t admit he loves me, he’s keeping secrets from me, and—”

  “‘Secrets’ is a strong word,” Tanner interrupted. “He didn’t tell you the full truth now, but said he would. All of us have things in our past we’re not proud of, things we don’t want to share with our loved ones.”

  Really? She’d missed the boat on that one, since she didn’t have much of a past. “Are you saying there are things you haven’t told Meredith?”

  “Let’s return to the subject at hand,” he said. “There might be good reasons for him to keep quiet, but you need to remember something. When he chose to leave New York, he didn’t go to Chicago or Los Angeles. He came here. That’s telling. As for the business offer, you’ll just have to see what he decides.” He stood up with his soda. “I’m going up to see Keith. Jill, you Hale women are made of strong stuff. Don’t forget it.”

  Right, she felt like the Rock of Gibraltar right now. Jill leaned forward after he’d left. “I was going to have sex with him tonight,” she whispered. “No way that’s happening now. What do you think?”

  Peggy rubbed her face. “I don’t like secrets either. I lived through all that crap with my ex. Keith was a newborn when I found out Frank was having an affair. Plus, if Brian had told you he loved you—none of that best friends forever crap—it would have helped you feel better.”

  Jill knew what Peggy was leaving unsaid: Yes, it would have, but he didn’t do it. Jill chugged her soda. “I don’t know where we stand or what to think.”

  “You don’t think he’ll stay?”

  Banging her head on the Toy Story placemat seemed like a good idea. Maybe it would help clear the fog. “I don’t know. It’s not New York, and I’m certainly not Chef Barbie. We both like the idea of working together, but we disagree on just about everything when we try talking business.” She lifted her head and scratched at a fleck of food on Woody’s sheriff outfit.