by Loree Lough
Nodding, Lily pulled an imaginary zipper shut across her mouth. “Mmmm’s the wrrrd,” she said through tight lips.
One last scan of the room told Georgia no one else could hear. “Robert asked me to marry him,” she whispered.
Lily’s eyes widened as she leaned back and gasped. “That’s wonderful news! Why do you want to keep it a secret?”
“He hasn’t told his kids yet, and I haven’t had a chance to tell Max and Nate, either.”
Lily frowned. “You don’t look very happy about it. Don’t tell me you said no.”
Georgia made an are-you-kidding face and said, “Don’t be ridiculous! He’s a wonderful, loving man. I’d be crazy to let him slip through my fingers.”
“Then, why the long face?”
“I have another bit of news, and I’m not too sure Max is gonna like it.”
Lily giggled nervously. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
Georgia laughed. “’Course not, you silly nut!” When the moment passed, she said, “I’m going to retire. Permanently. Robert, too. We’re going to take a world cruise for our honeymoon.”
“Why would Max object to that? You’ve worked hard in that diner all your life.”
“Because I want to hand the deed to that diner over to him. It’s been in the family for generations. I don’t want it going to strangers.”
Lily thought about that. He’d pulled hundreds of shifts in the diner as a boy, and although she’d never heard him complain, exactly, if his expression and body language were any indicator, he hadn’t liked the work one bit.
And he’d spent the past six years in the big city, no doubt working at a big fancy desk in an air-conditioned, mahogany-paneled office. Probably lived in a ritzy Chicago suburb, too, in a too-big-for-him house on a street with other snooty accountants.
“What scheme are you two cooking up?”
Lily lurched and Georgia gasped.
“Oh!” Georgia exclaimed. “You just shaved ten years off my life, sneaking up on us that way!”
Max chuckled. “I didn’t sneak. It’s just that you two were so deep in discussion, you didn’t hear me.” He raised an eyebrow. “So, what gives?”
“None of your beeswax, boy,” Georgia said, chin in the air. “Honestly, how old does a mother have to be to get a little privacy?” She sniffed.
Max held up his hands in mock surrender. “Excuse me for interrupting. I only came over to deliver your plate.” He put the dish on the table, then handed her a paper napkin and plastic utensils.
“Kids,” she said to Lily, “never get too old to lay a guilt trip on you.” Rolling her eyes, she sighed. “Sorry for snapping your head off, son.”
“Yeah,” he said, laughing, “that sounded sincere!”
“Where’s Nate?” she asked, changing the subject.
He pointed. “Over there, with the pastor’s kids. He’s lovin’ it here.”
Georgia nodded. “It’s good to see him so happy.”
“And healthy,” Lily put in.
He looked at her then, as if seeing her for the first time. “Right,” he agreed, smiling sheepishly. Pocketing both hands, he said, “So, how have you been?”
“Fine.” She squirmed on her chair. “You?”
Max nodded, lips pressed tightly together. “Fine. Fine.”
“You look a little tired,” she admitted, “here, around the eyes.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Nah. It’s eyestrain. I’ve been getting Mom’s books in order.” Max shot Georgia a feigned stern glance. “It’s been a while since she balanced the checkbook.”
“Honestly,” she huffed, “do you have to air all my bad habits?”
The three of them grinned nervously for a moment before Max broke the silence. “Lemonade, ladies?”
“None for me, thanks,” Lily said, standing. She didn’t know how much longer she could remain this close to him without crying. Because, like it or not, she loved him still; admitting he didn’t feel the same way—and never would—hurt. Cut deep. Time healed all wounds, as the sages promised, but Lily had a feeling she needed distance every bit as much as she needed time. She headed for the card table that held bottles of soda, lemonade and iced tea. “Take it easy, Georgia,” she said, waving.
“Wait,” Max said, grabbing her elbow when he caught up with her. “What’s your hurry?”
Lily lifted her chin a notch. “I’m not in a hurry. I just saw—” she picked someone out of the crowd at random “—Cammi over there. I forgot to ask her something earlier.”
“Really?” he said, a suspicious smile on his face. “What?”
Pursing her lips, she said, “Something to do with the wedding. Girl stuff.” He hadn’t let go of her elbow, she noticed; the warmth of his big hand spread all the way to her fingertips. He stood so close she could inhale the crisp manly scent of his aftershave. She missed him desperately, though they’d never been anything but friends. But that didn’t stop her from wanting more, from dreaming and praying for more. Knowing she’d never have it was enough to break her heart.
Lord, she prayed, save me or I’ll fall apart right here in front of him!
Lily tugged free of his grasp and hurried to where Cammi stood, arm in arm with her fiancé.
“Hey, kiddo,” Reid said when she walked up. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she snapped. “What makes you ask a question like that?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” her future brother-in-law replied. “Maybe that ‘I just lost my best friend’ look on your face?”
She’d never been a crybaby, had never been one to give in to tears. For a reason she couldn’t explain, Lily felt a sob aching in her throat. It wasn’t likely she’d actually cry, but just in case, before the dam burst, she ran to the ladies’ room.
“What did I say?” she heard Reid ask Cammi.
“I’ll find out what’s wrong,” her sister said as the door swung shut.
Lily locked herself in a stall and pressed her forehead to the cool, pink-metal wall. What was wrong with her? She’d had years to get used to the idea that Max would never be part of her future. Nothing had changed, so why the tears?
“Lily? Are you okay in there?”
She nodded, and then, realizing Cammi couldn’t see it, said, “Yeah. I’m okay.”
“You want to talk about it?”
She shook her head. “No. Not really.”
“It’s about Max, isn’t it. I saw you two talking earlier. You want me to sic Reid on him? He can fix it so the lout wears black eyes and a swollen lip for weeks.”
Lily snickered. “Thanks, but I’d hate for Reid’s fingers to be too swollen next week to wear his wedding band.” She opened the stall door and stepped into the comforting circle of her sister’s open arms. “Oh, Cammi,” she sighed, biting back tears. “What’s wrong with me?”
Cammi held her at arm’s length. “Not a thing. It’s Max who has the problem.”
She wrinkled her forehead. “Max? But—”
“He could have the sweetest, prettiest girl in Texas for his own, if he’d just open up his eyes and see what’s right in front of his face.”
“His very handsome face,” Lily said, grinning.
“Okay, so he’s cute. I’ll give him that much.” Cammi walked to the sink, jerked a brown paper towel from the dispenser. “But he isn’t as smart as I thought he was.” She dampened the towel, then pressed it to Lily’s cheeks. “He’s got some silly notion that life is a ledger book where everything is black and white.”
She took the towel, dried her eyes with a corner of it. “I don’t get it.”
“You don’t fit nice and neat in a column, and until he can find a way to make things between you add up…”
Lily gave a deep sigh. “You’re giving me a headache,” she teased. “You know I never was any good at math.”
Cammi laughed and draped an arm over her sister’s shoulder. “Yeah, right. The gal who has kept dad’s ranch running for a decade, all by h
erself, isn’t good at math.”
“That’s different. It’s—”
“Black and white. I know.” She opened the door and led Lily back into the church hall. “Look around you, kiddo,” she said, a bent forefinger guiding Lily’s chin. “There are other fish in the sea, as they say.” She kissed her sister’s cheek. “Your problem is, you have an aversion to worms. Can’t bait the ol’ hook if—”
Lily laughed. “I feel that headache coming on again.”
“Well, if you’re okay, I’m going to get a slice of peach pie for Reid, before it’s all gone. It’s his favorite, you know.”
Nodding, Lily winked. “I’m fine. Go ‘do’ for your man.” She gave her a playful shove. She had no idea what kind of pie Max preferred, or whether he preferred it to cake, or how he voted in the last election, or if he liked classical music. She didn’t know his favorite color, or if he wore glasses to watch TV. She knew he liked fishing, but only because she’d overheard Nate telling Dr. Prentice about the fishhook in his thumb.
So what are you blubbering about? Lily asked herself. It seemed ridiculous, getting all teary-eyed and heartbroken over a guy she knew so little about, a guy who barely had given her the time of day. The concept brightened her mood.
Until she saw him, laughing at something Reid had said. She might not know if peach was his favorite pie, but she knew this:
She loved him. Always had.
And always would.
Chapter Five
Lily sat at the head table, pretending to enjoy the filet mignon and caramelized potatoes on the gold-rimmed china dinner plate in front of her. Lamont had gone all out, a string quartet playing “The Wedding March” in the church balcony, biggest banquet hall in the hotel, Amarillo’s best chef. Everything looked wonderful, right down to the fluted vases where colorful Japanese fighting fish swam in the center of each table. The bride looked like a fantasy princess in her designer gown and veil, and the groom, her storybook prince.
If happiness could be measured by looks alone, the newly married Mr. and Mrs. Reid Alexander would live in bliss from this day forth. Lily knew the union would be rock solid, forever, and not because of gauzy veils, satin-lapeled tuxedos and thousands of white roses. Cammi and her new husband had been the perfect love match, from the moment they crashed into one another outside of Georgia’s Diner. Why perfect? For starters, both loved the Lord with all their hearts.
Lily wanted a love like that—a marriage like her sister’s would surely be. She sighed and sipped ice water from a crystal goblet. Fat chance of that happening if she couldn’t get over this thing for Max Sheridan. She’d been compiling a “Reasons It Won’t Work Out” list, and at the very top, wrote, “‘Yoke ye not to unbelievers….’”
Had Cammi deliberately seated Max so that he faced the head table? Or had it been a ridiculous coincidence? She tried not to look at him, at his dark, shiny curls—her image of male perfection in his tidy gray suit and bloodred tie, smiling as he cut his son’s steak into bite-size pieces. He loved that kid more than anything in his life, and it showed. Didn’t he realize Nate had been God’s greatest gift to him? That alone should give him more than enough reason to believe!
The photographer dashed past, blocking her view of the Sheridan table. She watched the balding, potbellied fellow hurry from table to table, leaning and crouching and kneeling, cameras clicking as he captured guests laughing, dancing, waving and shouting to friends across the banquet hall. The waitstaff bustled in and out, delivering coffee, hustling dirty dishes into the kitchen. The maître d’ pointed the way to the rest rooms as the bandleader announced the title of the next song.
Controlled chaos, Lily thought, grinning wryly. The scene reminded her of a wedding she’d attended last summer. Cammi had scowled at the groom’s drunken uncle. “When I get married,” she’d steamed, “there had better not be anything like that frozen on film in my wedding album!”
The photographer snapped Lily’s picture just then, startling her so badly that she actually said “Eek!” Who said that, she wondered, besides cartoon mice! She blinked past the blue dots floating before her eyes, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Hopefully, when that picture was developed, it wouldn’t upset Cammi.
Lily wasn’t accustomed to wearing her hair this way. Every time she’d tried an updo, unruly wisps escaped, no matter how carefully she secured them. Squinting into the bowl of a sterling soupspoon, she tucked in a wayward curl and checked her lipstick. Well, you won’t win any beauty contests, she thought, putting the spoon beside her plate, but hopefully, you won’t make anyone lose their lunch, either. Smiling at her little joke, Lily glanced up…directly into Max’s smiling brown eyes.
He’d caught her primping! And his teasing, all-knowing expression told her he’d lumped her in with every other prissy, vain female he’d ever met. Lily groaned inwardly. She’d been watching him from the corner of her eye all during the meal. Why had he picked that moment to look up! If only he would take the time to get to know her, he’d realize that fussing with her hair and makeup had never been high on her priority list.
Forcing a grin, Lily returned Max’s snappy little salute and turned to the groomsman seated beside her. “Would you mind passing the salt, please?” she said, though nothing on her plate needed salting. Really, what did it matter what Max Sheridan thought of her, she fumed, absently thanking the tuxedoed gent when he handed her the shaker. It wasn’t as though Max’s opinion of her would enhance their relationship, such as it was.
She forced herself to focus on the conversation at the opposite end of the head table: “We’ve had such unseasonably icy weather for November,” said a bridesmaid. “Plays right into my plans to go skiing over the Thanksgiving holiday,” said another. “Do you have a bandage?” the skier asked. “These newly dyed shoes gave me a blister the size of my nose!” Better to listen to the chitchat than admit that there was no relationship between her and Max…and that there likely never would be.
It took all the willpower she could muster to avoid looking toward his table. She knew he was watching her; it seemed his big dark eyes were boring holes into the side of her head. But why would he watch her, when at least a dozen eligible bachelorettes had come to the wedding, sans beaus?
“May I have this dance?”
Lily looked into the grizzled face of Hank Gardner, one of her brother-in-law’s ranch hands. It was no secret the man was sweet on her; he’d made sure she knew, every chance he got.
“Oh, go on,” Cammi insisted, giving Lily’s shoulder a gentle nudge. She leaned in close to whisper, “Guess who is watching. Give him an eyeful!”
The sound of butter knives clinking against water goblets interrupted the sisters’ secret conversation. “Ah,” Cammi sighed, feigning boredom, “a woman’s work is never done.” Then she faced her new husband and gave her guests exactly what they’d asked for.
Hank pulled out Lily’s chair. “C’mon, Lil,” he said, grinning good-naturedly, “song’s half over already!”
Lily let him lead her to the dance floor, where the band was playing an old Patti Page ballad.
“You look gorgeous,” he said, taking her in his arms. “Don’t tell anybody, but I think you’re prettier than the bride.”
“When was the last time you had your eyes checked?” she teased. Leaning back slightly, she wiggled the knot of his silk tie. “I must say, you clean up real good yourself!”
Hank blushed. “Had to borrow it from Reid. Must be eatin’ too many biscuits with supper, ’cause the shirt collar’s a mite snug.” He looked into her eyes as the female singer crooned.
“Nice song,” he said.
“Very nice.” Lily had hummed it dozens of times when trying to soothe an injured animal. “It’s one of my favorites—”
“May I cut in?”
Hank’s brows knitted in the center of his forehead. “I reckon.” But it was obvious to anyone within earshot that he wasn’t any too happy to hand over his dance partner. The cowboy stepped
away but held tightly to Lily’s hand. “Be gentle with her, bud,” he told Max, “’cause this purty li’l gal is a genuine blue-ribbon prize.”
Nodding, Max stepped into Hank’s place. “He’s right, you know,” he said once the cowboy had walked away.
How would you know? she wondered. Max didn’t know her well enough to testify to that.
“You’re the most beautiful woman in the room, bar none.”
Lily felt her face go hot. Heart hammering, she wanted to protest, because in the first place, Cammi was the bride, and in the second…
She was quoting him, Lily realized, with her “first” this and “second” that. Absurd, especially considering how little time she’d spent with him. “You look nice, too.” But the compliment paled against the truth. Max truly was the best-looking guy in the room.
She couldn’t seem to get her mind off the warmth of his hand, pressed gently against her lower back as he guided her across the parquet tiles. That, and the way the fingers of his other hand linked almost possessively with hers.
“Nate looks adorable,” she said, mostly to distract herself. “How’s he doing?”
“Pretty well, all things considered.” He paused, touched her chin with a bent forefinger. “I’ve never seen you with your hair up before. Looks gorgeous. Very sophisticated.”
She grinned self-consciously. “You’ve seen it up, plenty of times. Ponytails, braids—remember?”
He pulled her a little closer, ran a fingertip down the bridge of her nose. “This,” Max whispered, his nose a mere fraction of an inch from hers, “is not the girl I remember at all. This,” he said, bringing her closer still, “is all woman.”
Lily licked her lips and swallowed. If she didn’t know better, she’d say Max was gearing up to kiss her—right here in the middle of the crowded dance floor, with her father and sisters and the pastor watching.
“Don’t worry,” he said on a chuckle. “You’re safe. There’s a time and a place for everything.”
How could he have known what she’d been thinking? Nothing was making sense, especially considering the way he’d snubbed her these past weeks. What kind of head game was he playing? she asked herself. She ought to walk away, leave him standing there alone.
