Waiting on You

by Kristan Higgins

  "Shouldn't you be ogling your hot husband?" Colleen asked.

  "He's on his way over. Traffic control," Faith answered. "I'm supposedly picking up Mrs. Johnson so we can all have dinner, but she's not going anywhere, she says."

  "Not till I have to," Mrs. J. said, jerking her drink away from Rufus's enormous and thieving tongue.

  Bryce Campbell was pouring a day-glow lime-green liquid from a pitcher. Shirtless. Louise was tipping him. "Hey, Coll!" he said cheerfully.

  "Has Chippendales relocated?" Colleen asked.

  "Oh, don't be such a prude," her mom said. "It's Lucas's last day." Mom gestured with her plastic cup to the roof.

  There he was, in full blue-collar glory. And though he'd made her quite happy--multiply happy--just last night, Colleen felt her entire female anatomy squeeze and swell and blossom and bark.

  "Hey," he said.

  "Oh, my God, that voice," Carol said. "Lucas, say my name. Say, 'Carol, you're still a fine-looking woman.' Do it."

  "I thought you had Jeremy Lyon for that sort of thing," Colleen said.

  "Leave me alone, Colleen," Carol said. "I have to get my jollies somehow."

  "Carol, you're still a fine-looking woman," Lucas said with a pirate grin. Carol squealed, giggled merrily, then held up her empty glass for Bryce to refill. He obliged, winking at Colleen.

  "Oh, Colleen," Carol said, "I have a house for you to look at. This one might actually be perfect, and it's not even listed yet. I thought I'd give you first dibs."

  For some reason, the words gave Colleen a twinge. "Where is it?" she asked, sneaking a look at Lucas. He was kneeling on the roof, doing something at the base of the chimney.

  "It's on Ivy Lane. The Lowensteins' place."

  "Oh, that house is very charming!" Mrs. Johnson exclaimed. "The roses, the hydrangeas, the little sunroom in the back!"

  Colleen knew the house, a little fairy cottage made of stone. It did indeed have a beautiful garden, and a shady front yard. And a brook in the back. "Thanks, Carol. I'll take a look."

  "That should do it, Jeanette," Lucas said. "I'm done here."

  A chorus of boos and protests went up from Team Menopause. "You didn't even take off your shirt," Carol complained.

  Lucas sighed. "It's tough, being objectified like this," he said.

  "Boo-hoo-hoo," Colleen called. "Just do it, Spaniard."

  He grinned, sighed, obeyed. Got a hearty round of applause. "Ten," Mom called.

  "Ten," Carol and Mrs. J. echoed.

  "Nine and a half," Colleen said. Didn't want him to get cocky.

  "Jeanette, do you have a license for this?" Levi Cooper approached, shaking his head. "Ladies, I'm disappointed in all of you."

  "Take off your shirt, Levi," Carol said. "Let's see what you got."

  "Inappropriate, Carol," he said, his eyes resting on Faith. "Hey, beautiful."

  "Love," Jeanette sighed. "Mrs. Johnson, you're so lucky to have a grandchild on the way." She gave Colleen a pointed look, then turned her eyes to Lucas. "I wouldn't object if you knocked up my daughter, Lucas."

  "Okay, everyone's cut off," Colleen said. "Levi, do a quick sobriety check, will you, buddy?"

  Bryce approached her, pulling on his shirt. "Coll, got a minute?" he asked.

  "Sure, bud." They went a few yards away from the ladies (though not before Laura Boothby had tucked a ten into his pocket). "So, uh, the whole Paulie thing. I feel really bad about that."

  Colleen sighed. "Yeah. She likes you a lot."

  "I guess that's why she adopted all those animals," he said, frowning.

  "Yep."

  He gave her a sad smile. "Not lot of people really like me."

  "What are you talking about? Everyone likes you."

  He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Just...you know. Not when they get to know me and find out I'm just...good-looking and stupid. No one ever gives me a second thought."

  "Bryce! You're not stupid."

  "Oh, come on. Did you ever give me a second thought?"

  He had a point.

  "I got fired from the wedding dress place," he said. "And the bride went back to her husband. Fiance. Whatever. She wasn't really that fun, turns out."

  "For what it's worth, Bryce, Paulie really does like you. Not just because you're beautiful. And she doesn't think you're stupid."

  "Well, she does now, I bet," he said. "Anyway, I just wondered how she's doing. I called her the other day and said I hoped we were still friends."

  "What did she say?"

  Bryce fiddled with a button on his shirt. "She said I had some growing up to do. But she was really nice about it, too. She didn't lecture me."

  "Do you think she has a point?"

  "Probably." He sighed. "Well. I should go. See you, Colleen." He walked away, and Colleen couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him.

  "So, hotshot."

  She looked behind her, and there stood Lucas. "Spaniard." The slow curl of warmth unfurled in her stomach.

  "You busy later?" he said, pulling on his shirt. Pity.

  "I'm always busy," she murmured.

  "You want to come over when you're not? Set my apartment on fire this time?"

  "Is that a metaphor for sex?"

  "Mmm-hmm."

  "Then yes."

  He grabbed her, gave her a quick, hard kiss, copped a feel and went off, smiling over his shoulder.

  Le sigh.

  Fifteen minutes later, when Team Menopause had been wrangled out (and Levi had ticketed Carol for parking in front of a hydrant), Mom gave Rufus his third piece of bacon, put her hands on her hips and gave Colleen a look. "So? Are you staying or what?"

  "Aw. That's so sweet, Mom. Why? You have plans?"

  "As a matter of fact, yes." Rufus stole a fourth bacon strip, then licked Mom's hand.

  "Strip clubs with Carol?"

  "No, I have a date."

  "Stan, Stan the Hairy Man getting a second chance?"

  "No, that's over. He sent me a picture of his junk, and if you thought his back was hairy--"

  "Hail Mary, full of grace--"

  "Oh, stop."

  "You stop. Please. I beg you to stop."

  "Fine." Her mother looked at her watch. "I do have a date, and you must have plans with that Lucas. Are you getting married, you two?"

  "We're in a purely physical relationship right now."

  Her mom raised an eyebrow. "Sure."

  Colleen shrugged, looking away. "I don't know, Mom. I'm not looking too far down the road."

  "Carpe diem and all that?" Mom asked.

  "Exactly. Don't eat tuna."

  Mom gave a faint smile. "Well, off with you. Time to go. Get out. Bye, honey. Don't forget your dog." She walked Colleen to the front door. "You never come over anymore."

  "It's hard to feel welcome when you're about to hurl me down your front steps--" The doorbell rang. "Could this be the mystery man?" Colleen exclaimed. She opened the front door. "Hi, I'm the daughter." Her smile froze, then dropped. "But I guess you already knew that."

  Her father stood on the stoop, holding a bouquet of flowers.

  "This isn't going to end well," Colleen said.

  *

  IT WAS UNEXPECTED, her parents told her. Early days yet. Just testing the waters. But obviously they had a history.

  "I know you have a history!" Colleen snapped. "I am your history!"

  It was so frickin' weird to have them both in the newly renovated yoga studio/artist garrett/greenroom/whatever the heck Lucas had built. The last time they'd been there all together was when Dad had stonily informed them about the Tail and her pregnancy, Mom sobbing hysterically, Connor white-faced.

  Connor, at least, was at the bar. Lucky bastard.

  "I thought you'd be happy about this," Dad said.

  Colleen eyed him, started to speak, then stopped. "I don't know how to feel," she said. "You can't just undo everything, Dad. You have Savannah now. Ten years have passed. And are you and Mom together? Or are you just jealous because
she started dating?"

  He looked at Mom, whose expression didn't betray much. "I've always loved your mother."

  Colleen snorted.

  "It's true."

  "Loved her enough to cheat on her. Loved her enough to make her a laughingstock while you and your disgustingly young wife moved to a bigger house in the same town because you didn't even have the decency to move ten miles away, enough to--"

  "Okay, Colleen, we know where you stand," Mom said. "I appreciate your concern and understand you have to express your emotions, but maybe you could do this in a more positive and healthy way."

  "You need to stop buying those self-help books."

  "I've found that kickboxing works well."

  Colleen sighed. "I have to go see Gramp. Your father, Dad, in case you forgot. Come on, Rufus."

  It would be nice, she thought as she drove to her shift at Rushing Creek, to have a normal family. Like Faith--the three siblings, the perfect father, the lovely stepmother, a niece, a nephew. Instead, she had her whackadoo parents, a stepmother who wore clothes in the style of Child Prostitute and a mute grandfather whose poor body just wouldn't give out. She had Savannah, at least, and Connor.

  And maybe she had Lucas, too.

  But that was a dangerous thought. For ten years, she'd done pretty well not getting her heart broken, and not breaking anyone's. And not heartbroken...not ruined...that was a whole lot better than the alternative.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  A FEW NIGHTS later, Colleen twisted her hair up, pulled down a few wisps and put on her Swarovski crystal earrings that Con had given her for their birthday in a rare fit of thoughtful metrosexuality. Tonight, she wore a long red dress (because you know what they say about women in red dresses), high in front and low in back, the fabric falling in a silky rush to her toes. It was a halter top secured at the back of her neck, so hopefully Lucas could give one tug later on, when they were alone, and remove said dress in a hurry. Or a not-hurry. Nice and slow. His mouth could follow the fabric...and hopefully, he hadn't shaved today, because she quite loved the scrape of his beard against her skin, the contrast of his smooth, full mouth, the hot, wet slide--

  "You almost ready?" Connor bellowed up the laundry chute, which served as a magical portal between their apartments.

  "I've been ready for twenty minutes," she lied. "Are you ready? Are we picking up your date? You may as well tell me who she is."

  "She's not coming."

  "Connor! I hate you."

  "I hate you more," he said, grinning up the chute. "Get in the car."

  She dropped her wet towel on his head, closed the chute door. "Bye, pal," she said to Rufus, who was mournfully chewing his plastic bone. "I love you more than Connor. A lot more." With that, she went downstairs, the heels of her strappilicious sandals tapping away.

  *

  THE BARN AT Blue Heron Vineyard looked incredible this night, the sky a beautiful slate blue, fairy lights in the trees, and the flowers! Hydrangeas everywhere, and ivory roses--Laura Boothby had outdone herself. Candles flickered, and the wine-bottle light sconces glowed, and it was so romantic and beautiful that Colleen found herself getting choked up.

  Good for Honor, going all out for her wedding. She deserved it...all those years of living with her dad, holding down the fort and running the corporate end of Blue Heron Vineyard. Most of the town did business with Honor, who would make a fine president if the mood ever struck, and everyone had a soft spot for Tom, the transplanted Brit who was so devoted to Charlie, the teenager who was his best man. Especially her own self, who had met Tom his first night in town this past winter. Sure enough, Tom gave her a grin and a wave.

  Aha! Connor was talking to Jessica Dunn. "Hey, Jess!" Colleen said. "Are you Connor's mystery woman? If so, we should talk."

  "Hail Mary, full of grace," Connor muttered.

  "It's nice to see you, too, Colleen," Jess said drily.

  "That's a yes, isn't it? I knew it. Listen. I'll make a great sister-in-law, you can put that in the plus column to help balance out Connor's many flaws. And I want you to know I've been dropping hints about you for years."

  "We're not dating," Jess said.

  "Damn!" Colleen said. "Well, you have my blessing if you change your mind. Just saying."

  They took a seat close to the front; Jessica worked at Blue Heron, after all.

  And so did Mom. All the Blue Heron staff, full-and part-time, had been invited, but Mom "had plans." And plans probably meant something with Dad. Something icky.

  She hadn't told Connor about their parents in a rare episode of twin secrecy. First of all, he'd be furious. Secondly...well, she kind of hoped this was a flash in the pan. Mom would sort it out and realize Dad was still...still...whatever.

  But of course, Colleen could relate.

  How many people want another chance with their first love?

  Speaking of first loves... She stood on her tiptoes and scanned the crowd.

  "Looking for me?" came that voice. Busted.

  "No. I'm looking for Mr. Holland. I've been in love with him since I was eight." She turned, her breath stopping. "You look unfairly handsome, Spaniard," she said, and yes, her voice shook a little.

  He didn't answer, just let his gaze drift down her body, then back up, his eyes dark as...as...as coffee or something, she wasn't doing too well in the rational thought department. Suffice it to say, one look from him was reducing her to a puddle.

  He took her hand and kissed it. Soon, Colleen thought, she'd be dead of lust. And what a way to go.

  They took a seat with the other guests. Tom and Charlie stood up at the front with Reverend Fisk and a shorter, older version of Tom who must be his dad, all the way from England.

  Then the music started, Jack Holland walked Mrs. Johnson down the aisle, and the bridesmaids followed--Faith, Pru and Pru's daughter, all looking beautiful in shades of lavender.

  And then came Honor on her father's arm, and Colleen glanced at Tom. It was her favorite thing to do, to see the groom's face when he first saw his bride, and Tom did not disappoint. He looked stunned, then covered his mouth with one hand, and, bless him, welled up. Charlie, his best man, put his arm around Tom's shoulders and smiled.

  Honor looked amazing, and Colleen felt a little proud of that, having done her makeup earlier that afternoon. She glowed, she really did, smiling at Tom, those nice dimples of hers. She looked so in love that tears came to Colleen's eyes, too. And her dress was fantastic--an ivory, Regency-style gown, utterly romantic and soft, unstructured, flowing softly to her toes. She wore her mom's pearls, Honor's trademark jewelry, and matching earrings, all very subtle and classic and lovely. And hey! She was barefoot, her pink-polished toes peeping out from underneath the dress. Very nice touch, Coll had to admit.

  Then Mr. Holland kissed the bride and shook Tom's hand, wiped his own eyes and sat down, and the ceremony began.

  Lucas held her hand throughout, and try as she might, Colleen couldn't help a few wedding thoughts of her own. Marriage thoughts, even better--the ordinary, wonderful days that she and Lucas could have...maybe in that little stone house Carol had mentioned the other day, waking up late on a Sunday morning, making French toast and drinking coffee on the slate patio. A black-haired baby or three. It would be so wonderful.

  Then Tom kissed his wife and the crowd cheered.

  All night long, Lucas was a perfect date. They didn't talk about Bryce and Paulie, which was nice, him not pointing out that he'd been right all along. He flirted with her, kept giving her those hot Latin looks. He danced with her (not the paso doble, as Colleen suggested, making him laugh, but he was pretty good nonetheless).

  "How's Joe doing?" she asked as they danced to Louis Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World." "I saw him at the hospital the other day."

  Lucas's eyes darkened. "Not too well. The cancer's pretty fast-moving."

  Her eyes grew wet. "I'm so sorry."

  "It doesn't look like he'll get to divorce Didi."

&n
bsp; He'd told her about that. Five attorneys had said the same thing. Colleen put her head against his shoulder. Poor Lucas, about to lose someone else. "You know what you should do?" she said, pulling back to look at him. "Threaten her reputation. She'd hate for anyone to know Joe wanted a divorce, even if he couldn't get one. Especially Bryce. Maybe she'd do it if you said you'd keep it quiet. She could spin it however she wanted after he...passes away."

  Those pirate eyes smiled, and a second later, his mouth followed. "You're a genius, Colleen O'Rourke."

  "I get that all the time," she said.

  "I bet you do."

  "I also hear 'extremely pretty' and 'quite hot in the sack.'"

  "I'd attest to that."

  "So would--"

  "I don't want to hear about that," he growled. "The only thing I want to hear is that you never got over me."

  "Well. You can think that if you want."

  "It's true."

  She smiled. "Let's say that it is for the sake of your huge Latin ego." She put her head on his shoulder again. Guilt twinged in her knees, and her smile faded.

  She had slept with other men. Not that many, but if Lucas knew--

  "Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for the best man's toast," the DJ said, and any further thoughts were cut off. She was with Lucas at a wedding, and he loved her. She was almost certain. She pushed any other, more complicated thoughts aside.

  They toasted the bride and groom and had cake, and after Connor and she had done the electric slide, and when Emmaline Neal (St. Germain and vodka) had caught the bouquet, Lucas finally turned to her and said, "Come home with me."

  It was a command...a velvety promise of deliciousness.

  Colleen grabbed her brother's arm. "Walk Rufus for me?" she asked.

  "Oh, gross. Listen, Campbell," Connor growled. "Break her heart, and I'll kill you. I mean it. The last time, you just--"

  "Okay, okay, thank you for sharing," Colleen said. "Bye, Con."

  They said goodbye to the happy couple and the Hollands, and then went off into the soft, sweet night air. A rumble of thunder came from across the lake, and a flicker of lightning lit the low-bellied clouds. Rain later tonight.

  "It's nice that you and Connor are still so close," Lucas said as they drove down the Hill into town.

  "Oh, yeah. How could we not be?"