Lucy’s heart sank. Of course they’d be seated at her station. She scooped up the tip from the last diners and forced a smile to her face. “Hey.”
Dismay rolled over Morgan’s face like a summer fog into the harbor. “You know that word only has one syllable, right?” Her eyes scanned Lucy’s apron, then rolled slowly up to Lucy’s face. “You’re waitressing. How . . . cute.”
Lucy tipped her chin up, holding her smile steady. “What can I say? Zac needed my help.”
Morgan tilted her head, her eyes narrowing reflectively. “I wonder how long it’ll take you to bail on him this time.”
Her friend snickered behind a manicured hand.
Lucy bit her tongue. Hard. Then fixed a smile on her face. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“We’re ready to order actually,” Morgan said. “I’d like the half salad and sandwich combo. Make the salad with extra tomatoes and no croutons, with balsamic vinaigrette on the side. For the sandwich I’d like—shouldn’t you be writing this down?”
“I’ll remember.”
Morgan’s eyes taunted her. “I’d like the tuna fish sandwich, toasted, with extra tomatoes and no mayo on whole wheat bread.”
Morgan’s friend closed her menu and shot Lucy a condescending look. “I’ll have the grilled salmon platter with a salad—no tomatoes and extra croutons. Low-fat ranch on the side.”
“You get one more side with that.”
“What are my choices?”
“French fries, onion rings, baked potato, mashed potatoes, broccoli, asparagus, or coleslaw.”
“A baked potato. Sour cream but no butter.”
With one last tight smile, Lucy walked away, turned the order in to the kitchen, and went to refill drinks. She stopped by the Callahan table for a few minutes, refilling drinks and trying to get Beau to ease up. Miss Trudy still sported a scowl, bless her heart.
She took another order, helped bus a table, and delivered a couple bills. She finished the salads for Morgan’s table and delivered them.
Morgan frowned at the salad. “Is there a tomato shortage I don’t know about?”
Lucy dredged up a smile. “I’ll bring you some more. Anything else?”
“Order up, Lucy!” someone called from the kitchen.
A few moments later she delivered the extra tomatoes, then returned to the kitchen, staying busy until the meals for Morgan’s table were ready.
She slid the plates onto the table between the women. She was relieved when they ignored her, but as she passed by a few minutes later, Morgan flagged her down.
“This bread is stale. And where’s the mayo?” She pushed the plate away. “Can you really be that dense?” she asked, mocking Lucy’s accent.
Lucy’s muscles quivered with the need to slap the sneer off Morgan’s face. “The bread was delivered this morning, and there’s mayo on the sandwich.”
Morgan lifted a finely plucked brow.“Are you saying I’m wrong?”
“I’m saying you’re mistaken.”
Her friend piped up as she pushed her plate away. “I think there’s butter on this baked potato. I can’t have butter.” She shuddered.
Lucy gritted her teeth.“It’s sour cream only, just as you ordered.”
“Everything okay?” Zac stopped behind her. Awkwardness descended upon them like ants over a bread crumb.
Morgan offered him a sweet smile. “Oh, Zac, it’s fine. Just a minor issue with our orders. Lucy’s doing her best, but I’m sure she’s just confused, what with that awful head injury and all. Bless her heart.” She gave Lucy a pitying glance. “Isn’t that what they say in your neck of the woods?”
“I’m sorry, ladies,” Zac said, reaching for their plates. “Lucy, can you take care of this?”
“Oh no, Zac,” Morgan said with enough sugar in her voice to sweeten a pitcher of iced tea. “It’s not a big deal. Really.”
“Don’t be silly. We’ll fix it.” He grabbed Morgan’s plate and handed it to Lucy. “Won’t we, Lucy?”
Heat filled her face. “Of course.”
Chapter 16
Zac sank into his office chair and opened the Skype program. Riley was supposed to call in a few minutes. The restaurant was usually pretty slow after lunch, and since it was late evening in Afghanistan, it was a good time to catch up with his brother.
A few minutes later Riley appeared on the screen in his desert fatigues.
Zac still wasn’t used to his high-and-tight haircut or the chiseled cut of his jawline. Sometime when he hadn’t been looking, his baby brother had grown up.
“Hey, brother,” Zac said.
Riley’s lips tipped in a crooked smile. “Zac. How’s it going, man?”
“Not bad. You look tired.”
“Keeping busy over here. But I’m doing all right. How’s things around town? Roadhouse doing all right?”
“Ayuh. Same old, same old. Beau and Eden came in last night with Aunt Trudy. Sheriff stopped by the table to flirt for a while. That’s always entertaining.”
“Poor guy. He ever going to make a move?”
Zac smiled. “Not with all those hands-off signals Aunt Trudy gives him.”
“She could do worse.”
“That she could.”
“Talked to the rest of the family last week.” Riley ran a palm over his head. “Heard you’re going out with Morgan LeBlanc. What up with that?”
Zac lifted a shoulder. “Just a couple dates. Nothing serious.” He’d been hoping for a spark or two, but so far she left him as cold as a February morning. He should give it a little longer. He was just distracted right now with Lucy’s return.
“Hard to believe Fourth of July is coming up in a week,” Zac said, eager to change the subject.
“No kidding. I lose all sense of time over here. We’ll have to schedule a chat before you all stuff yourselves with grilled burgers and hot dogs. Man, my mouth’s watering just thinking about it.”
“I’ll eat one for you.”
“Eat a couple for me, will you? I’m stuck with chow-hall fare.”
“Looks like you’re filling out just fine. Your shoulders take up the whole screen.”
“Just remember that when I get home. I can totally take you now. Not that I couldn’t before.”
“In your dreams, baby brother,” Zac said, chuckling, even though he knew it was probably true.
“So . . . ,” Riley said. “How’s Paige doing? Haven’t heard from her lately.”
His casual tone didn’t fool Zac. Riley and Paige had been best friends for years. But then Riley’s feelings changed, and before he got up the gumption to do anything about it, Paige started liking their brother Beau. It had all gone downhill from there when Beau and Paige became a couple. Riley had ultimately responded by joining the marines, but only Zac was privy to Riley’s feelings. Well . . . Zac and Eden.
“She’s doing all right. I thought she was e-mailing you.”
“She is. I heard from her a week ago.”
“Might help if you e-mailed back.”
“I’ll catch her on Skype on the Fourth.”
Zac considered biting his tongue, then decided life was too short. “Maybe you should say something to her, man.”
“Like what?”
“You know what.”
“Like, ‘Gosh, best buddy, I’ve fallen in love with you, and I know you don’t feel the same way, but will you put your life on hold for me until my tour’s up?’ Something like that, you mean?”
“You might want to soften it up a little, but yeah.”
Riley looked down, his lashes becoming shadows on his upper cheeks. “I’ve had a lot of time to think over here. A lot of moments when—” He looked up at Zac. “I don’t want to have any regrets, you know? But this isn’t something to dump on her when I’m six thousand miles away. Maybe I’ll have that talk with her when I get home. Ask for a chance to be more than friends. I don’t know yet. I’m praying about it.”
Zac knew as well as anyone that o
pportunities sometimes faded quicker than smoke on the open seas. “Why wait, Riley? Why not just tell her now?”
“It wouldn’t be fair to her. She finds out how I feel, and she’s going to feel guilty that she doesn’t feel the same. She worries about me enough as it is.”
“You said you didn’t want any regrets. What if you regret waiting, huh?”
Riley’s gaze sharpened, his lips going in a tight line as he stared intently through the screen. “She seeing someone? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No. No, man, not that I know of.”
Relief flickered in Riley’s eyes, and his shoulders fell. “That’s good. Hate to think I’d have to whip somebody’s butt the second I hit shore.”
Zac smiled. “I got your back, man. You know that.”
“Is she—you think she’s over Beau? She says she is, but I don’t know if she’s just telling me what I want to hear. She doesn’t want me worrying about her.”
“I think she is. She’s coming around the family more often, doesn’t seem to mind being around Beau and Eden. They were never meant to be, bro. I think she sees that now.”
“Yeah, well, I hope—”
A knock sounded as someone pushed his office door open. “Zac, do you know where the—” Lucy stopped on the threshold. “Oh, sorry. Am I interrupting?”
Zac resisted the urge to close the screen. It wasn’t as if Riley could see her with the laptop facing the opposite direction. “No, I’m just Skyping with Riley. I’ll be out in a few.”
“Oh, no hurry. Take your time.” She shut the door, and Zac looked back to the screen.
Riley was leaning in, his eyes fixed on Zac. A frown crouched between his brows. “Who was that? Was that—was that Lucy?”
Dadblameit. Well, he was lucky he’d kept it from his brother this long, now that all of Summer Harbor knew she was back.
“It was,” Riley said. “What the heck, Zac. What’s she doing there? Are you nuts?”
“It’s not what you think. We’re not back together. She has amnesia. She was in Portland, and she hit her head. She’s lost the last seven months of her life. Doesn’t remember leaving here or her life in Portland.”
“What? When did this happen?”
“Little over a week ago.”
“And you became involved because . . .”
“She called me. She didn’t have anyone else. She was confused and . . . dizzy and stuff. I went and got her and brought her back.”
“And no one thought to tell me any of this?”
“We didn’t want to worry you.”
Riley pitched back against his chair, making a face. “I wish everyone would stop filtering the news for me. I’m capable of dealing with reality.”
“Like you don’t filter news on your end?” Riley talked very little about what went on in his world.
His jaw flinched. “That’s different. Are there any other little tidbits no one’s telling me?”
Zac sighed. May as well get it all out there. “Lucy’s staying here, in your old room, and temporarily filling in as a server.”
Riley’s face tipped forward. “What? Zac . . .”
“And she was engaged to another man while she was in Portland. She was running from her wedding when she hit her head.”
Riley gave a hard laugh. “Of course she was.” He shook his head, still laughing, though there was no humor in it.
Heat crawled up the back of Zac’s neck, the mocking laugh running right through him. Hearing the truth out loud made him feel even more of a fool. And Riley’s reaction wasn’t making him feel any better.
“Knock it off, lover boy. I don’t see you doing much better.”
Riley’s laugh tapered off. He ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, yeah. All right, I’ll give you that one. Still, dude. You know you’re asking for trouble.”
Trouble seemed to be Lucy’s middle name. At least where he was concerned.
“This is only temporary. She finds another job, she’s out of here.” He didn’t add that she was planning to go no farther than the nearest apartment complex.
Maybe he was still in denial.
Chapter 17
Lucy turned an order in to the kitchen and stuffed a handful of straws into her apron pocket. Friday nights at the Roadhouse always seemed to be hopping. Zac’s new assistant manager, Susan, was on staff tonight, running the place like a well-oiled machine.
When they’d been dating, Lucy had been after Zac to hire management help. He’d always been so busy, running the restaurant six days a week. He’d said he couldn’t afford it, but that must’ve changed in the time she’d been in Portland.
Lucy spied a recently seated table and headed toward it. She felt her shoulders droop as she recognized the honey-blonde hair, the slim shoulders, and the classically beautiful profile.
Not again.
There were other servers, other stations, for pity’s sake. What was it with the woman? Was she trying to make Lucy’s life miserable? Drawing a deep breath, Lucy tucked the empty tray under her arm and approached the table.
Morgan’s blonde hair tumbled to her shoulders in spiral curls, and her makeup was flawlessly applied. She wore a little black dress that was riding up high on her long legs. The tiny white sweater she wore over it didn’t quite hide her cleavage.
Overdress much?
Lucy gave a tight smile. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Morgan’s eyes scrolled down Lucy’s dowdy shirt and apron. Lucy fought the urge to cover the ketchup stain over her left hip.
“I’m just waiting for Zac. He’ll be down any minute.”
Lucy felt a pinch in her chest. “I’ll check back after he arrives then.”
Morgan tossed her hair over her shoulder. “We’re not staying here.” Morgan pulled out a compact and checked her perfect red lips. “He’s taking me to the Oyster Bistro.”
Lucy’s smile faltered as her heart squeezed. That’s where Zac had taken her on their first date. He’d kissed her for the first time after dinner.
“You’ve heard of it.” Morgan snapped the compact shut. “It’s in the Hotel Tourmaline on Folly Shoals. You have to take the ferry to reach it. I do hope we make it back before the last run.” She arched a brow. “But if we don’t . . . oh well. I’m sure we’ll find something to do.”
“Morgan.”
At the sound of Zac’s deep voice, Lucy’s eyes swung to him. She clutched the empty tray to her chest.
“Did you get my text?” Morgan’s voice was as smooth as velvet.
“Ayuh . . .” His eyes darted between Lucy’s and Morgan’s. “I was supposed to pick you up.”
“I was out running an errand with Daddy, so I had him drop me here,” Morgan said as she stood, towering over Lucy in her stilettos.
The heels also brought her much closer to Zac’s height. He wouldn’t even have to stoop when he kissed her good night. His eyes caught on hers just then, and she felt the betrayal like a sucker punch.
She wrenched her eyes away. “I—I have an order to pick up.” She scooted away on trembling legs, the heat of Zac’s stare on her back.
This had to be the longest evening of her life.
Lucy threw back the covers, rolled over, and stared at the darkened ceiling. Even the bustling Friday night crowd hadn’t kept her mind occupied. Every moment she’d wondered what Zac and Morgan were doing. Were they at the Oyster Bistro yet? Were they sitting in a quiet corner or on the outdoor patio under the white twinkle lights? Was he holding her hand under the table? Was he noticing the way her eyes glinted green in the candlelight?
She checked the clock for the hundredth time. He should be back by now. The last ferry ran at ten o’clock, and it was almost eleven. Was he kissing her good night at her door right now? Or maybe they were steaming up the windows of his truck. Maybe she’d invited him inside.
Lucy groaned, closing her eyes against the thought. She had no rights to Zac. He was free to take Morgan out, free to make out in his tru
ck, free to—
No. She wouldn’t go there.
She had to stop this. What good did it do to torture herself? He wasn’t hers anymore. She wished she could turn back time all the way to the beginning and have a second chance. She remembered the night he asked her out like it was yesterday. It had barely been a week since she’d first seen Zac Callahan behind the bar, chatting with some guys, but it seemed like a month. In the meantime she’d scored a job at the visitor center and found herself a nice little apartment not far from town.
The Roadhouse was fairly empty on this Monday night. She scanned the rustic restaurant, her eyes stopping at the bar, where once again Zac stood, chatting with a few patrons. He wore a plaid button-down, rolled up at the cuffs. Like last time, he sported a five o’clock shadow, and she wondered if he knew just how sexy he looked.
She walked that direction, glad she’d worn her favorite jeans and the lightweight sweater that matched her blue eyes perfectly.
She found a stool at the quiet end of the counter—taking care as she climbed on—and perused the laminated menu. She knew the exact moment Zac spotted her. The skin on her arms tightened and heat flared up inside, prickling at the back of her neck. She’d never been so aware of a man before. It was as if an invisible cord connected them.
She didn’t look up until he stood directly in front of her.
The smile he gave her should’ve been illegal worldwide. “Georgia . . .”
Lucy offered a saucy smile despite the niggle of disappointment. “Ah. I see you’ve forgotten my name already.”
He withdrew a rag from his pocket and swiped the counter in front of her. “I never forget a pretty lady’s name.”
She wasn’t letting him off that easy. She raised her brows and tilted her head, waiting expectantly.
Just when she thought he was going to leave her hanging, his lips twitched and he slid her a look. “Lucy Lovett, sociology major, Harvard graduate, adorable dimples, endearingly clumsy, with a long list of ways in which she embarrasses herself.”
Her heart did a slow roll, and something fluttered inside. Her smile faltered.
“I just happen to like nicknames,” he said. “And that sweet Southern drawl of yours.”
The Goodbye Bride Page 10
