Krista closed her eyes.
“You’re right.” Smiling, Alex sipped broth from his spoon and nodded. “You know what my problem must be?”
“No,” Lucy said, and Krista kicked her again. Lucy snapped her head around to glare at her. “What?”
Krista smiled tightly at Alex, who laughed.
“It’s okay, I have it all figured out, and it’s not flattering.” He toasted them with his goblet of coconut water, then stared into it without drinking. “I’m jealous.”
“Of all the privileges they had?” Krista reached out to touch his arm, grabbed her goblet instead. “We totally get that. Lucy and I grew up with the basics, but not much extra. People think academics make tons of money and it just isn’t true.”
“No, I’m jealous of something far more humiliating.” Alex set down the glass, set his palms on the table to either side of his plate, and leaned back in his chair. “I, Alex Sargeant, am jealous that I am not the best man. There. I admitted it.” He picked up his fork and scooped some gnocchi into his mouth, smiling at Lucy. His brown eyes were warm and amused.
Krista put her hand on her chest. “Oh! How sweet. Of course you would be.” She gave Lucy a warning look. “It’s funny, because I had the same problem.”
Alex gave Krista a quick, polite smile. “Really?” The way he’d been staring at Lucy until then had made her wonder if she had white sauce on her nose.
Krista leaned forward. “Yes. We’ve all known each other since junior high, even earlier, and Fawn and I have always had a special friendship because of the fashion thing. She’s a model, I’m a fashion designer—you know? I thought the wedding would be, uh, our place to really bond.”
Lucy had to look at her plate to keep herself from laughing out loud. Fawn and Krista were friends, but not very close ones, and Krista’s ambitions to be a fashion guru had put a strain on the relationship. Being her maid of honor would have led to homicide.
“So you know how ridiculous I feel,” Alex said. “And I’m a guy, so it’s even more embarrassing. We’re not supposed to care about this sort of thing, which is of course a sexist delusion. Men are secretly, hopelessly sentimental.”
“That is so true,” Lucy said with conviction. “I’ve always known that.”
He beamed at her. Really, he had very nice eyes. His hair was a nice, deep brown color too, and his skull looked nicely shaped if and when he lost his hair a couple of years down the line. He wasn’t difficult to look at. No weird tics that might get distracting during a conversation. And he didn’t have any obvious hygiene issues.
“Which is why it was so, so nice that Lucy offered to step aside so I could be the maid of honor,” Krista said.
Burying her shocked cough in a napkin, Lucy averted her eyes back to her plate and couldn’t see Alex’s face when he touched her hand and said, “That was very generous of you.”
Krista sighed. “Of course, I refused. But please don’t say anything, okay? Especially not to Fawn.”
His hand was warm over hers. She pulled hers free, patted his, and buried it in the napkin in her lap. Lucy didn’t like lying. Lies unbalanced everything, fogged up the view. She was a scientist and believed in it. Lies were human; truth was divine.
“She’s joking,” Lucy said. “Fawn would never—Krista wouldn’t—” Crap. What could she say now?
“I understand. We won’t talk about it,” Alex said, but Lucy could see he believed Krista. His knee was bumping her thigh again.
Nice skull, she thought. And no obvious hygiene issues.
They finished the meal—joking about the lack of a bill—and went out into the clearing in front of the restaurant. The fog had crept back in, blurring the tops of the trees, and white tendrils snaked through the trees looking like a side dish for The Snowy Egret.
“We have to go. We have a spa appointment at three.” Lucy held out her hand. “It was nice meeting you, Alex.”
His gaze darted down to her hand, lingering over the rest of her, and came back to her face. He held her fingers, then enveloped her hand between both of his and looked into her eyes. “Very nice.”
She made herself smile back, but she didn’t like two-handed shaking and was concentrating on holding her hand still inside his grip instead of jerking it free. “See you around,” she said, nodding, smiling harder.
Looking amused, he let go of her hand and stepped back. “Yes, you will.” Nodding to Krista, he pivoted on his comfy-looking leather shoes and strode away through the redwoods.
When she was sure he was out of sight, Lucy sighed loudly.
Krista whirled on her. “See you around?”
“I didn’t like him.”
Gaping, Krista pointed off into the woods. “He was totally hot.”
“He didn’t get my turnip joke.”
Her big gray eyes got bigger. “Are you kidding?”
Lucy sighed again. “Do I seem too picky?”
“Oh, no. Totally reasonable. Turnips are really important.”
“I’m not sure I could live with a guy who didn’t laugh at my jokes.”
“Even the bad ones?” Krista shook her head and started walking. “You’re hopeless. Come on, I’m cold and these trees are dripping on me.”
They found the path to their cabins and didn’t speak for a few minutes. Lucy regretted having told Krista what she was thinking. Krista was so quick to overreact and jump to conclusions.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to try to like him,” Lucy said finally. “Or that I couldn’t learn to like him.”
“You’re impossible, you know that?”
“How am I impossible? I’m capable of changing my mind. You tell me I care too much about him laughing at my jokes. I’m willing to consider you’re right. In the scheme of things, if his other qualities add up, it won’t be a problem. But it would be dumb to go into a long-term relationship without knowing as many potential problems as possible.”
Krista kicked a bark chip off the path. “Very romantic.”
“Since when is having your friends pick out your spouse romantic?”
“Since you came to us for help, since we love you and want you to be happy, since we’re in a totally gorgeous place to witness our best friend getting married to a billionaire out of a fairy tale.”
“There weren’t really billionaires in fairy—”
“Shut up!” Krista stopped and buried her face in her hands.
Lucy watched her for a minute. When her shoulders began to shake, Lucy put her arm around her waist. Like Fawn, Krista was almost six feet tall, and Lucy had to peer up at her. “This isn’t about me, is it?”
Face still in her hands, Krista shook her head. “I’d be happy with any of them. Any one of them.” She lowered her hands, exposing the tears streaming down her cheeks. “My neighbor. Huntley. Miles. Alex. Hell, even the guy driving that golf cart. Why don’t any of them want me?”
This was a moment when Lucy wished she didn’t hate lies so much. “I don’t know,” she said lamely.
“I’m thin and pretty and have nice clothes and a real job and I’m friendly to everybody—”
“Hold it right there,” Lucy said. “For one thing, your list is screwed. Take it from me, I know lists.”
“You don’t think I’m—I’m—”
“I wouldn’t want to be friends with the chick you just described.”
A flash of anger displaced some of the despair in her eyes. “How would you describe me, then? Fat, ugly, and unemployed?”
“If you put on a hundred pounds, were disfigured in a fire, and went on disability, what would you have left?” Lucy held her arms and looked up into her face. “In addition to me and Fawn and Betty and your family?”
The tears began to flow again. She blinked, gazed into Lucy’s eyes. “What?” she whispered.
Lucy smiled. “Figure that out first. Then worry about finding somebody to share it with.”
Her voice wavered. “I’m so lonely.”
Holding he
r tightly, Lucy nodded into her armpit. “I know.” She patted her back. “Me too.”
* * *
Tuesday morning was as foggy as Monday had been but colder, with a wind that reminded Miles of riding his motorcycle over the Bay Bridge. Hiding out the day before had refreshed him enough to venture out of his cabin, get some air, interact with the rest of the wedding party. The hot tub had soothed his muscles, Fawn had soothed Huntley, and he was ready to admit that Huntley was right; it was past time to rebuild some bridges with his father.
Perhaps not a bridge. An infrequent ferry with one-way service. At least until he could get used to the idea.
Huntley had recovered from his paralysis and gone off hiking with Alex at dawn. Miles normally didn’t get out of bed before nine unless he had to, certainly not during a vacation, and had no desire to be in Alex’s company for a twenty-mile hike, so he’d begged off. Shivering in his thick sweatshirt from the short walk from his cabin to the lodge, he was glad he had.
He noticed her the moment he walked into the lodge.
Curled up in a slipcovered chair in the lodge, a laptop open in front of her, Lucy appeared deep in thought. Since she didn’t see him, Miles paused near the door to take the opportunity to study her.
She was in black again, though today’s sweater was a turtleneck that covered that pointy little chin of hers and set off her pale skin. And while she stared at her screen, nose wrinkled with concentration, she nibbled on the hem of her collar like a rabbit.
She was the cutest thing he’d seen in a long time.
He wondered why she was in here working instead of enjoying the free goodies at the spa. He wasn’t into it, but most women were. Hell, he’d spent the entire afternoon the day before soaking in the hot tub, drinking his way through the mini-bar, having meals delivered to his cabin on a white tray.
Just as he was about to walk over and say hello, Alex Sargeant came out of the small store in the back of the building carrying a cloth grocery bag over one arm and two steaming coffee mugs. He didn’t notice Miles, either because too many years had passed or because his eyes were fixed on Lucy. She hadn’t noticed either of them yet.
Miles paused and turned aside to get himself a coffee, studying Alex from behind the branches of a large potted tree. He had to admit Alex looked pretty good—still had his hair, wore an expensive watch, looked like he worked out at the gym.
Miles found himself sucking in his gut and turned his attention back to stirring his coffee, laughing inwardly at himself. If that’s what Lucy wanted, she could have him. He would be a perfect husband. He wouldn’t tolerate anything less in himself. If he discovered any flaws he would have to kill himself, and then she could collect the hefty life insurance policy he’d be certain to buy.
Alex came up behind Lucy’s chair. “Care for a peach?”
Lucy jerked upright, slamming down the screen of her laptop before twisting around in her seat. “Alex! Good morning.”
“Mind if I… ?” Alex gestured to the seat next to her.
Taking his time, Miles got out a tub of cream cheese and picked through the bagels.
“Of course not. It’s nice to see you again,” she said.
Alex sat next to her, his back to Miles. “You brought your work with you?”
“No, just playing around. You know, killing time.”
Alex handed her a mug. “I noticed your cup was empty. Yesterday you took cream but no sugar, so that’s what I got you.”
“Thanks, Alex,” she said, sounding genuinely pleased. “I was too lazy to get up for another one.”
Miles stabbed his knife into the cream cheese and smeared it over his bagel.
“If you’re killing time, does that mean you might be glad to go for a walk?” Alex asked.
“A walk?” The way she hesitated and patted her laptop, Miles assumed she was about to turn him down, but then she said, “Yes. I’d like that. Right now?”
“We could have our coffee first if you’d like.”
“Actually, I’m well caffeinated already, but if you—”
“No, the coffee was just a bribe to get you to talk to me.” He reached into his bag. “I’ve got peaches if that didn’t work.”
Miles rolled his eyes. What a smoothie.
“I’ll have to put my laptop in my cabin.” She looked over at the door and suddenly noticed Miles behind the tree. Naturally, no man his size could hide for long behind an indoor plant. Her smile fell and her ears turned pink. “Oh, it’s Miles.”
Alex spun around in his seat. “Is it—Miles!” He jumped to his feet, strode over with his arms wide.
Was Alex really going to hug him? Miles was glad his hands were full. “Hi there, Alex, Lucy. Sorry to interrupt. I was just—” He took an enormous bite of his bagel and spoke with his mouth full. “Eating.”
Alex slapped him on the arm. “Some things never change, big guy.”
Now, Miles didn’t mind when Huntley called him that, or even Ronnie or the kids, but when guys like Alex said it he had to make a conscious effort not to deck the little prick. “How was the hike?”
“Huntley bailed on me. Too cold, he said.” Alex turned to Lucy, who had joined them with her laptop tucked under her arm. “I was disappointed at first, but not so much now, given the upgrade in my hiking partner.”
“You guys can catch up while I put my laptop in my cabin,” Lucy said.
Not sure how long he could keep the bland smile on his face, Miles stuck his hand out. “I’ll drop it off for you. I’ll be heading back there in a minute.”
Alex slapped is shoulder again. “Thanks, big guy.” He reached over to take the laptop from Lucy, as though to hurry or guarantee the transaction, but she clutched it to her chest like a freezing man with a heating pad.
“No, I’d rather do it myself. I didn’t bother with the case.”
“I’ll be careful.” Miles held out the right side of his unzipped sweatshirt. “I’ll nestle it in here like a baby.”
She glanced down at his chest, in the shadows of his body, and he felt his heart began to thud. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he was sucking in his gut, or that he thought she was hot and adorable.
“Well, sure. Thanks.” She handed it over.
He let his fingers brush against hers, enjoying the flash of sexual awareness in her green eyes. “You’re welcome.”
Alex practically carried her out of the building. “We’ll catch up later, Miles,” he said, hooking an arm around her back and pulling her away.
“Fawn should be in the cabin, so you can just knock and she’ll get it,” Lucy threw out over her shoulder.
“No problem,” Miles said.
Alex looked back at him. A message passed between them, ancient and hostile and male, before Alex smiled and shut the door between them.
Ah, well. Better luck next time. Letting out the air he was holding, Miles lugged his inadequate breakfast and the laptop over to a couch in the corner and put his feet up on an ottoman. An older couple was just arriving, led by the golf cart guys in their white uniforms, but Miles didn’t recognize them. More and more guests were trickling in today, though most weren’t officially invited until later in the week. The spa had too many perks to waste, Huntley said—not that Lucy seemed to be taking advantage of them.
He lifted the screen to see what the serious redhead would be working on instead of having her soft, naked body rubbed with scented oils.
Or maybe he could play solitaire, distract him from the image of Lucy having her soft, naked body rubbed with scented oils. Or worse, the thought of Alex doing the rubbing.
The screen lit up in the middle of a spreadsheet of all things, and he remembered she said she was some kind of analyst for a drug company.
But this was no work spreadsheet.
He looked up at the door where she’d disappeared. If she suspected he’d open this up, she never would have left it with him. No wonder she’d hesitated.
He wiggled his butt deeper in the chair to savor
the delightfully incriminating document in front of him. Quickly, so he didn’t miss a thing if she came back early.
Her manhunt was documented.
The columns were color-coded, which was a nice touch. He especially appreciated how PHYSICAL APPEAL was a bright, garish red—though she’d numbered that as seventeen, putting it in a row at the bottom, far below such important characteristics as LIKES AQUARIUMS and REGULAR FLOSSER. Maybe the red stood for stop. Or danger.
He couldn’t help but grin. The worst impulses in his nature were in motion like a wind-up toy. Lucy thought SALARIED JOB was more important than GOOD WITH KIDS? That was bad enough, but having RECYCLES rated six rows above TONGUE?
And did that mean what he thought it did?
Another quick glance at the door, then Miles had his fingers on the keys to make a few revisions. As a favor. It was obvious she was going about her husband selection the totally wrong way.
He hesitated, realizing how invasive and immoral it was to do this. He was a private person. He’d be furious if anyone ever did this to him.
Then again, he wasn’t the one comparison-shopping men as though it was no different than buying a camera on Amazon.
Were all women like this? Or just women freaking out about passing thirty?
Like Felicia.
As a compromise to his conscience, he did a SAVE AS and began moving columns and adding fields that were both helpful, suggestive, and honest.
Really, it was the least he could do.
For her, Alex, and men everywhere.
Chapter 8
“THANKS FOR THE WALK,” LUCY said as they approached her cabin.
Alex had his hands in his pockets, watching the pavement at his feet, and he glanced at her with a smile. “My pleasure.”
She didn’t say anything else, unable to hide her happiness that the hike was over. The wind was cutting through her clothes, even her usual jeans and sweater. The hot tub called to her.
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