by Amy Harmon
“Just peachy. What can I get ya?”
Did she really have to ask? It was the same every time. “I’ll have a chicken salad on wheat with some curly fries on the side. Just like always.” Taycee’s fingers drummed on the marble counter as she eyed the clock once more. “I actually have to leave in about twenty minutes. Do you think it will be ready by then?”
Liza flashed another smile and flipped through her pad. “There are several orders in front of yours so I can’t say for sure. I guess you’ll just have to wait your turn like everyone else.”
Everyone else? Only two other people sat in the diner, both of whom had their lunch already. The bell on the door jingled, and someone shuffled in behind Taycee. “Are you talking about orders for pick-up?” Taycee asked.
“What?” Liza blinked at her through mascara-caked eyelashes.
Taycee spoke slowly. “You said there are several orders ahead of mine, and since Will and Kris already have their lunch, I’m wondering if the others are call-ins.”
The pencil tapped against the pad. “Uh, yeah. Of course.”
“Whose?”
“Whose what?” Liza frowned.
Once again, Taycee slowed her speech. “Whose. Orders. Are they?” No way was Liza getting away with this. Not today. Not after the sleepless night Taycee had spent agonizing over seeing Luke again. Liza had picked the wrong day to mess with her.
Liza’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, but that’s really none of your business. It’s, uh… classified.”
Classified? That was the excuse she chose? Taycee almost laughed out loud. “So relieved to know you keep everyone’s orders private.” She leaned across the table and whispered loudly, “Because I’d die if anyone found out I’d ordered a chicken salad sandwich with curly fries.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that then,” a deep voice spoke from behind. “I’d hate to see you die before we have a chance to catch up.”
Taycee froze even as her heart pounded. No. Not now. Not here. Not when she was wearing her oldest jeans and rattiest T-shirt and arguing with none other than Liza Woolrich. It wasn’t right.
Slowly, Taycee twisted around, and then clenched her jaw to keep it from dropping. It was like watching the Captain America movie where the scrawny guy goes into the machine and comes out looking… well, everything but scrawny. Not that Luke could have ever been called scrawny before. Skinny, maybe, but that was about it. Now, he looked toned. Robust. Solid. And drop-dead gorgeous. His dark, wavy hair was shorter now, but his eyes—those amazing, beautiful eyes—were still that rich coffee color that used to melt her heart.
Used to. Used to, Taycee! Get a grip. It’s been ten years for Pete’s sake.
Luke flashed a disarming smile—the same smile pictured in several of the photos she kept stashed in a scrapbook at the bottom of her pajama drawer. “Wow, look at you, all grown up and everything,” he said.
For some reason the comment made Taycee feel like a little girl playing dress-up with adult clothes. He only remembered her as the gangly fourteen-year-old with braces and a rat’s nest for hair. Taycee forced a smile that strained her cheeks. “Luke? Wow. What’s it been? Five years?”
“More like ten, but who’s counting?”
Who indeed. “So… what are you doing back in town?”
His arms folded, and he cocked his head toward the street outside. “I’m leasing the McCann place just outside of town. Thinking of setting up a veterinary practice here.”
Leasing—not buying. Jessa needed to get her facts straight. Taycee gave him three months before he was gone again. “That’s… uh… great. So… so great.”
The register slammed shut, and Taycee twisted back around, grateful for Liza’s interruption. “I’ll let you know when your order’s ready,” Liza said with a touch too much sweetness. “You’re welcome to wait at the bar.”
“Thanks.” Stomach rumbling, Taycee stepped away and slid onto a barstool.
“Wow. Luke Carney, is that really you?” Liza’s squeal made Taycee wince.
“In the flesh.” Luke planted his hands on the counter as he studied the menu.
“I heard you were back in town. I hope this means we’ll see you around the diner often.”
“Thanks, uh…” Luke eyed her nametag. “Liza. I’m sure I’ll be here often enough, especially if the food tastes as good as it used to.”
“Oh, it does. You can trust me on that. What can I get you?”
Taycee forced her attention to some daytime talk show playing on the TV. Her fingers played in her lap as she fought the desire to peek at him again. Why hadn’t she put on her cute jeans that morning? Dabbed on a little more makeup? Actually styled her hair instead of pulling it back?
Taycee shifted in her seat. What she needed was an excuse. A reason to leave and come back later—after Luke had gone. Her shop. Yeah, that would work. And it wouldn’t be a complete lie since she really did have to be back, just not this second.
Perfect. It’s settled. Now leave.
But Luke had already pulled up a stool next to her, and now he sat with his elbow on the counter, facing her with that lopsided smile she used to love. A day or two’s worth of growth framed his face, and Taycee felt the urge to reach out and run her fingers along the scruff. He looked really good. Taycee should have run when she had the chance.
“So, how’ve you been?” he asked.
“Good.”
Luke’s head shook as he studied her. “It’s crazy how the town looks pretty much the same and yet everyone has changed so much. Is Caleb still around? I can’t believe we didn’t stay in touch.”
And whose fault is that? Taycee wanted to ask. “He’s in Phoenix now, but he should be back in a few weeks. He wants to set up a practice somewhere near here.”
“Practice?”
“Law.” How pathetic Luke didn’t know that.
“Really? Caleb went to law school?” Luke chuckled. “He always did love a good argument, didn’t he?”
“Still does.” Which he would know if he’d bothered to keep in touch.
“And he’s coming back to Shelter? Awesome. It’ll be just like old times.”
“Yeah… totally.” Not. Taycee shifted in her seat, willing Liza to hurry for once in her life. The creepy-crawly panicky feeling was back, making her antsy to leave.
Luke’s hand dropped to the counter and tapped out a rhythm. “Your parents still around?”
Good. Neutral topic. Taycee could handle neutral. “No. They retired and moved to Florida a few years ago. Warmer climate and all that.”
“But you’re still here,” Luke pointed out. “I would have thought you’d be long gone by now. What kept you here?”
So much for neutral. A quick glance at the clock and Taycee pushed the barstool back. “Believe it or not, I actually like it here,” she said with an edge to her voice. Before she made a complete fool of herself, she added, “Sorry, but I’ve got to go. Great seeing you though, and good luck with your practice.”
Taycee started past him, but a hand on her arm stopped her. His touch felt like a warm jolt—uncomfortable yet nice at the same time.
“Hey, are you free for dinner tonight?” Luke asked.
Her eyes flew to his. Did he just ask her out? “Uh, d-dinner?”
His hand still on her arm, Luke nodded. “Yeah. You know that meal you eat in the evening? Between lunch and dessert? What do you say? I’d love to catch up.”
A traitorous thrill shot through Taycee. Not good. She couldn’t say yes. Wouldn’t. “Um, sure, that’d be great.” Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Luke’s hand fell from her arm as he reached for his cell. “What’s your number? I’ve got a few things to do this afternoon, but I’ll call you later when I know what time I’ll be done.”
Taycee rattled off her number as Liza approached, flashing Luke a smile. Before she could say anything, Taycee asked, “Hey, Liza, any idea how long it will be? I really need to get back.”
Liza shot
an annoyed look her way. “Not sure, but you know what they say, ‘Good things come to those who wait.’”
If by good, Liza meant a warm and soggy chicken salad sandwich, then Taycee would have to take her word for it. “Can I pick it up in an hour or so?”
“Sure, whatever.” Liza turned her attention back to Luke. “So, you’re setting up a vet clinic?”
Taycee offered Luke a quick nod and nearly bolted for the door, leaving him in Liza’s obviously capable and collected hands. So not fair that Liza could remain so composed while Taycee could barely utter a coherent sentence. What she needed was air. Fresh air. Air that didn’t smell like Luke and make her do idiotic things.
The first meeting is always the hardest. It’s all downhill from here.
Taycee breathed in deeply. The further from the diner she got, the calmer she felt. Maybe it was actually good that Luke was back. Maybe now she could learn to see him as a regular guy, just like everyone else. Maybe she could finally get over him. And maybe, just maybe, when he left again—which he would, she was sure of it—he would take all of those memories with him.
* * *
Taycee waved goodbye to Mr. Benion, who left with yet another sunflower arrangement, and then made her way to the back of the shop. One rose bouquet to go and she could return to the diner for her lunch. Her cold lunch. Taycee frowned.
Her fingers ran across the shelf of vases, finally pulling down a clear, square one. Perfect. Different enough to make the unoriginal red rose bouquet look a little more original. Red roses might symbolize love, but in Taycee’s mind, different was always better. Much, much better. Which was why she always kept a stash of flowers like Jean Giono’s on hand for those blessed customers who said, “Surprise me.”
They were never disappointed.
Taycee hunted through the floral refrigerator for the best roses and baby’s breath. Minutes later, two dozen long-stemmed roses dropped to the counter next to the clear glass vase. Time to create—her favorite part of owning a floral shop.
Bells jingled, and someone stepped into the store. Taycee leaned sideways to get a better look, only to immediately duck back out of the way. Luke. Here. In her shop. Why? Taking another step sideways, Taycee’s elbow caught the vase and sent it shattering to the floor. She groaned inwardly. So much for staying hidden.
“Taycee? That you? Everything okay?” Luke’s voice called out.
Taycee eyed the storage closet longingly, wanting nothing more than to disappear inside and hide like a coward. Instead, she sank to the floor to pick up the bigger pieces. “I’m fine. Be right there.”
Footsteps approached, and a pair of sneakers came to a stop beside the broken glass. “What happened?”
Taycee’s eyes travelled up his body. Toned calves, plaid shorts, dark T-shirt, beautiful eyes. Why did he have to look so good? Why couldn’t he have hair growing from his nose? Nasty warts covering his face? Why couldn’t he smell like the animals he took care of?
Luke set a Styrofoam box that he’d been holding on the counter. “Here, let me help you with that. Do you have a broom?”
The spicy, fried aroma of curly fries wafted through the room. Glass shards forgotten, Taycee rose slowly, staring at the white take-out box. “You brought me my lunch?” No, don’t be nice. Please don’t be nice.
“Just call me your own private delivery boy.”
“Liza actually let you?” If only Taycee could have been a fly on the wall for that conversation.
“It took some coercion, and I had to sign a waiver that I wouldn’t tell anyone else what you ordered, since, you know, it’s classified info.” He grinned. “She also made me promise not to eat any, which I tried really hard not to do.”
Taycee laughed. “Liza probably laced them with something and didn’t want you to suffer the consequences.”
“She loves you that much?”
“And then some.”
Luke shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the counter. “I did eat a couple on my way here. But I feel fine, so they must be safe.”
“Wow, how kind of you to risk your life for me.”
“I’m thoughtful like that.”
As if. Thoughtful people didn’t just disappear. Taycee opened the take-out box and stuffed a fry into her mouth to keep from saying as much.
Luke glanced around. “Where’s that broom?”
“Broom?”
He pointed to the floor. “Broken glass?”
“Oh, right. Just a sec.” Taycee retrieved the broom from a storage closet and started sweeping up the mess.
“I can do that. You should eat. I could hear your stomach growling from the diner.” Luke took the broom from her hands and started sweeping.
Taycee frowned as she shoved another fry in her mouth, chewing slowly. Luke wasn’t supposed to be the kind of guy who would sweep her floor so she could eat. He was supposed to be thoughtless, annoying, and forgetful. He was supposed to be a jerk.
Hmm… maybe he could be a jerk for not being a jerk. Yeah, that might work.
Luke dumped the glass into the trash and nodded toward the food. “You’re not eating.”
Probably because she was staring. At him. Her cheeks burned as she forced her gaze away and picked up another fry.
The broom went back in the closet, and Luke scanned the shop. “Nice place you got here. I’d never have pegged you for a florist.”
The fry turned bitter as she swallowed it. Wow. Did Luke really not remember? The goodbye present? Her strange fascination with flowers that he used to tease her about? She’d relived those memories over and over and over again. Every word, every look, every smile. But had Luke? Apparently not. Taycee suddenly felt as memorable as a blade of grass.
“Flowers have always been a hobby of mine,” she said. “I opened the shop three years ago.”
“Looks like business is good.”
“It’s hit and miss, but most days I stay busy enough. I’m really hoping to get involved with more weddings at some point. I’ve done a few for some local families, but they couldn’t afford much, so we kept it small. I’d love to do something bigger though—something fun and extravagant, with a little more earning potential.”
Luke nodded. “Hopefully I’ll stay busy enough with my practice.” He leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “I have to admit, I’m a little worried. The town seems… slower somehow. But it could just be that I’ve lived in a larger city for the past decade.”
“It’s not you.” Taycee twisted a curly fry between her fingers. “Shelter’s kind of floundering right now. Because of increased competition with commercial farms, the in-dependents aren’t able to sell their crops for as much as they used to and can’t pay off their loans. The banks, of course, are now refusing to loan them any more money, which is why so many farms have gone under, and why more will continue to do so. If things don’t start picking up soon, there won’t be enough people around to keep the few businesses left afloat. In fact, the only reason I’ve been able to keep my shop open is because most of my business comes from neighboring towns.”
Luke’s expression turned pensive, possibly even worried. “I was actually shocked to see the McCann farm on the market. Never thought they’d move.”
“They had no choice.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yeah, it is,” said Taycee. “But there is some light at the end of the tunnel. My friend, Jessa, came up with an idea to hopefully turn things around. She’s convinced that if the farmers will pool their resources and start their own farmers market chain, they can sell their crops locally and get a much higher return than they would get through wholesalers.”
Luke nodded slowly, as if considering it. “That’s going to take some major work and money to get going. Not to mention the fact that it will put a lot of extra strain on the farmers to do their own selling.”
“I know, but it’s their only shot right now.” And pretty much the main topic of conversation around town these days.
What will the farmers do if they’re forced into foreclosure? What will become of Shelter Springs? A pit formed in Taycee’s stomach every time she thought about it. “A few months ago, the mayor even hired Jessa to come up with some fund-raising ideas. Supposedly she has something in the works, but she hasn’t said what that is yet. Whatever it is, I hope it will be successful because the farms will be ready to start selling mid-June, which means we have to come up with 50K by then.”
Luke whistled. “50K in two months. She’s got her work cut out for her, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah, but she’s pretty motivated,” Taycee said. “When she was fifteen, her aunt and uncle—Sue and Martin McCray—took her in. They even helped pay for her college, and now she’s determined to use her newly acquired business skills to help them back. If she doesn’t, the McCray’s will be forced to foreclose on their farm when the loan comes due this fall.”
Luke shook his head. “Here’s hoping it works and she can pull together that much money. I’d hate to see this town die, not when I’ve only just come back.”
Only then did Taycee realize that she’d given Luke a reason to think his vet clinic could survive here also, if Jessa’s plan worked. What was she thinking? She should have kept that info to herself and told him it was only a matter of time before the town went kaput, so he should really get out while he still could.
Luke pushed away from the counter and flicked her under her chin. “Well, it’s nice to that you’re still around. Enjoy your lunch.”
Taycee’s eyes followed him as he left. Seriously? Chin-flicking? Granted, ratty jeans and an old T-shirt didn’t exactly scream sophistication, but Taycee was no longer fourteen. Nor was she the little girl who used to follow him and Caleb around like a lost puppy.
She’d grown up and had a mind of her own now—a mind that was smart enough to know that if she wasn’t careful, Luke would break her heart all over again.
Chapter Four
Three days and not a word from Luke. No promised phone call, no dinner, not even a text to cancel. Nothing. It was like he’d already packed up and left town. So pathetic that Taycee had kept her phone nearby the entire time, willing it to ring.
