by Teri Wilson
Lucy blinked, visibly taken aback. Clearly there’d been no wow. “I don’t know if I’d call it ‘wow.’ But he’s nice…and handsome.”
“Uh-huh. But no ‘wow.’”
“No. I haven’t had many of those.” Lucy’s flush was suddenly back. “Only one, actually.”
This was news to Jamie. As many times as she and Lucy had discussed her dating life, she’d never mentioned having an actual, bona fide wow moment.
Could it have been Rick? Possibly, given the way he and Lucy were suddenly regarding one another. Something unspoken passed between them. Jamie could sense it, even from her hiding place. It felt like magic.
Lucy broke the spell first, quickly averting her gaze and busying herself with stacking and re-stacking a pile of books.
Rick cleared his throat. “What happened with that guy?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing happened with that guy.” More stacking, more refusal to meet Rick’s gaze.
He had to be the guy.
“You two…um…never went out?” Rick asked.
Gosh, this whole interaction was painful to watch. Jamie had to stop herself from groaning out loud.
“Nope. I thought for sure that we would, but it never happened. Maybe our timing was just off.” Lucy stared down at the book in her hands. “Maybe it was all one-sided.”
“So where is he now?” Rick said.
Probably standing right in front of Lucy, asking obnoxious questions instead of telling her how he felt, Jamie thought.
Lucy finally met Rick’s gaze again. She took a deep breath, and the magic Jamie thought she’d sensed swirling between them earlier came roaring back. It shimmered around them, as real and tangible as the brick wall currently pressed against Jamie’s back.
She really needed to stop spying on people. And she would, just as soon as…
“Lucy! Hi,” a voice called out, putting an abrupt halt to her train of thought. A distinctly non-Rick voice.
“Quentin!” Lucy waved him over to where she and Rick stood.
Oh, no.
Quentin, once again wearing a sweater, nodded at Rick. “Hi.”
Rick nodded back, and just when Jamie thought the situation couldn’t get any more awkward, Quentin pulled a blush-colored long-stemmed rose out from behind his back and offered it to Lucy.
“For you,” he said.
Rick jammed his hands in his pockets and shifted from one foot to the other.
Lucy took the rose and held it up to her nose. Its bloom was full and vibrant, which meant it had most likely come from Anita’s Flowers. “Aw, that’s…” Her gaze flitted toward Rick before settling on Quentin. “Thank you.”
Rick’s shoulders sagged as he pointed in the direction of his bistro. “I’m gonna…”
Go make some risotto, Jamie mouthed. She would have bet money on it.
“Go make some risotto,” Rick said.
Winner winner, chicken dinner.
Chapter Ten
Jamie didn’t want to interrupt Lucy and Quentin, and she sure as heck didn’t want to engage in another conversation with Sawyer, so she headed back toward True Love Books.
But Sawyer had other ideas, because of course he did. These days, they were never, ever on the same page. He jogged toward her from his coffee cart. She pretended not to see him, but he wasn’t so easily dissuaded.
“No fair. You already know everyone in Waterford.” Sawyer fell in step next to her— which was fine, once she thought about it. So long as he was walking beside her, he couldn’t bribe any more business owners with his fancy beverages.
Then again, maybe he’d already blanketed the business district with hot cocoa and coffee, because as they strolled through the set-up area for the Fire and Ice Festival, a steady stream of vendors held up their Ridley cups to toast Sawyer as they grinned. Seriously? It was a wonder what kind of Ridley propaganda people would put up with in exchange for a delicious hot drink.
“Thanks, Sawyer,” Sam from Kagan’s Bikes said when they walked past.
“Well.” The effort it took to fight back an eye roll was monumental. “It seems the ‘hometown boy’ is making progress.”
Sawyer looked as though he were biting back a smile. “Well. You have, what? A fifteen-year head start on me.”
“Six. Six years.” She held up a finger, stopping him in his tracks. “I only came back to Waterford six years ago.”
“Hold on.” He gaped at her, mouth hanging open. It took him a beat to form words again. “You didn’t come back right after college?”
She shook her head.
It seemed they’d stumbled upon yet another fact about her that he would have known if he’d kept in touch after he’d moved away. But that wasn’t what people did after a break-up. Typically, they went their separate ways and never looked back.
Jamie had just never imagined that was how their story would end. It seemed unfathomable back then. Sometimes it still did…
She swallowed around the annoying lump in her throat that had yet to show any sign of going away. Was it really necessary to give Sawyer a play-by-play of everything she’d done since they’d broken up? She doubted he was actually interested.
Except the way he was looking at her made her feel like he just might be. There were questions in his warm brown eyes, questions he had no business asking. And despite everything—despite the looming town council vote, despite her very real fear that she might lose her bookstore, and despite the fact that she was so very, very angry at him—she wanted to give him the answers.
Sawyer had always been the easiest person in the world to talk to. He’d known her better than anyone, even better than Aunt Anita. And even though he’d been the quintessential popular boy and she’d just been the girl who always had her head in the clouds and her nose in a book, he’d understood her in a way that no one else ever had. Back then, or since.
But she couldn’t open up to him now. If she did, she’d only end up doubly heartbroken when he left yet again—this time, after taking away the thing she loved most in the entire world.
Why, oh why, does it have to be him?
“Jamie?”
A woman’s voice called her name, and for a moment, she was relieved at the interruption. Spending time alone with Sawyer wasn’t a good idea, plain and simple.
But then she swiveled her head and caught sight of Mrs. Van Horn bustling toward her.
“There you are,” the older woman said, glancing back and forth between Jamie and Sawyer.
“Karen.” Jamie’s stomach churned. “Hello.”
She’d been avoiding Matt’s mother for weeks because every time they saw each other, Karen tried to push Jamie into reconsidering a move to Texas. It was awkward. And now she was going to get to have that same awkward conversation again, but in front of Sawyer this time.
Lovely.
“I never see you anymore,” Karen said, planting her hands on Jamie’s shoulders and giving her a kiss on each cheek, as if they’d just bumped into each other on the streets of Paris instead of Waterford.
Jamie could feel Sawyer’s amused gaze on her, and it made her face go instantly warm.
“Well, we’ve been busy…” she stammered.
“Being busy is the best way to get over heartbreak.” Karen’s expression turned mournful, as if Jamie and Matt’s break-up had taken place mere days ago rather than months in the past. Seven months, to be exact…or had it been eight? Jamie couldn’t quite remember, which was probably a sign that it hadn’t been a monumental life event for her. “That’s certainly been Matt’s motto this past year.”
Sawyer’s gaze narrowed as he began eyeing the two of them with far less amusement and much more something else—something that made her heart beat hard in her chest.
The change in his expression didn’t go unnoticed by Karen. She turned towa
rd him and stuck out her hand. “I’m Karen Van Horn.”
“Sawyer O’Dell.” He shook her hand and smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Sawyer?” Karen blinked, clearly surprised—and displeased. “Jamie’s ex?”
Sawyer attempted to clarify. “From a long…”
“Long,” Jamie added.
“…time ago.” He smiled.
Oh great. They were practically finishing each other’s sentences now.
“I see.” Karen’s relief was palpable as she turned her attention back toward Jamie. “Matt talks about you all the time.”
“He does?” Jamie pressed her lips together.
Why was Sawyer looking at her like that…like he cared if Matt thought about her all the time?
“Matt?” He arched a brow.
Karen rested a hand on her chest. “My son. Jamie and Matt dated.”
Sawyer frowned. Okay, maybe he did care. Not that Jamie cared that he cared, because she absolutely didn’t. That would be a huge mistake. People didn’t go around worrying about what their sworn enemies felt toward them. It just wasn’t smart.
Still, she felt the need to clarify. “A long…”
“Last year,” Karen corrected.
“…time ago,” Jamie finished.
Karen really needed to accept that Jamie and Matt were over. He’d moved to Texas, and he wasn’t coming back. Jamie was staying right here in Waterford, so there wasn’t anything left to discuss.
Sawyer studied her through curious eyes. “A year’s not that long ago.”
Help me, she mouthed when Karen wasn’t looking. If he insisted on being an observer of this uncomfortable exchange, the least he could do was make himself useful.
He took the hint, thank goodness, and made a big show of casting an apologetic glance at Karen while gesturing toward his watch. “And since we’re on the subject of time, I think Jamie and I have a lunch reservation right…now.”
“Yes! We do. Right now.” Jamie nodded as Sawyer wrapped an arm around her and started guiding her away. As an impromptu fake lunch date, he was remarkably convincing. “It was so good to see you though. So sorry. Goodbye.”
“Nice to meet you,” Sawyer called with a backward wave.
And off they went with Jamie tucked beside him, close enough to see the faint scruff of a manly shadow along his jawline and to feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek when he exhaled. A rebellious little shiver worked its way up and down Jamie’s spine, and she reminded herself that they’d walked this way a million times before. It was really no big deal—especially now, when they were just pretending to be together.
But her knees grew weak all the same.
Sawyer wasn’t entirely sure of the plan, other than to simply get Jamie away from Matt’s mother. Somehow, though, the plan seemed to involve wrapping his arm around Jamie, which had just sort of happened without him giving it any serious thought whatsoever. He’d acted purely on instinct, and once he’d done it, there was no going back.
Not that he regretted sliding his hand around her delicate waist and holding her close, because he definitely didn’t. It felt good to be this close to her again. It felt right. He and Jamie weren’t meant to be adversaries. They were meant to be something else entirely.
Something more.
Or maybe he’d simply been spending too much time thinking about the past. Waterford was like a mirror and being back had forced him to look at his life and face some uncomfortable truths. He’d missed his hometown—and that’s what Waterford was, despite Jamie’s mockery toward the idea of him as a “hometown boy.” He’d left a piece of his heart in Waterford when he’d gone away, and he hadn’t realized how much he missed it until he’d come home.
And now, walking along the banks of the duck pond in the community park behind the town square with his girl by his side, he never wanted to leave again.
She’s not your girl. She hasn’t been for a very long time.
He let her go, then shoved his hands in his pockets to keep himself from putting his arm around her again. Or worse, trying to hold her hand.
“So.” He struggled for something to say, finally indulging his curiosity about Karen Van Horn and her son, Matt, who must be the dentist he’d heard about from Rick. “I take it she’s not your biggest fan?”
Three ducks glided past them across the smooth blue surface of the lake, quacking as they went. Sawyer wished he could toss them some cracked corn or oats, like he and Jamie had done on almost every one of their lunch breaks during senior year.
“Actually, it’s the opposite.” Jamie let out a nervous-sounding laugh. “Yeah, if she had her way, Matt and I would be together.”
Don’t say it.
Do. Not. Say. It.
He cleared his throat and looked out over the water to avoid meeting her gaze. “What are the chances of that?”
Ugh, he’d said it.
“Considering he’s in Texas and I’m here, I’m going to go with none.” She smiled at him, then glanced over her shoulder, back toward the town square. “I think we’re safe now.”
Their eyes met, and they both laughed, co-conspirators in the effort to evade Matt’s mother. A looseness unspooled inside Sawyer, and he felt relaxed, free. Not because they’d managed to escape, but because he and Jamie Vaughn were finally on the same side of something again.
“This reminds me of when we skipped algebra in high school,” he said before he could stop himself. Thus far, she hadn’t seemed too keen on trips down memory lane.
To his surprise and immense delight, she instantly lit up. “Oh! And Coach Taylor caught us.”
“And you miraculously talked our way out of detention.” She’d been a force to be reckoned with back then. That, at least, hadn’t changed.
They passed a cluster of trees with branches hanging low, casting watercolor shadows over the lake in cool greens and blues. Sawyer’s shoulder brushed against hers, and neither of them strayed farther apart.
“Well, you’re not the only one who can be charming, you know.” Jamie flashed him a smile that he felt clear down to his feet.
“Oh, I’m well aware of how charming you can be,” he said.
So far, she’d managed to use that charm to turn what felt like the entire state of Oregon against him.
He slowed to a stop, unsure where they were headed, both literally and metaphorically. But while they were still there, in what seemed to be a moment of truce, there was something important he needed to say. “Believe it or not, I was really happy to see you in the bookstore again, before things got so complicated.”
“Complicated. That’s one word for it.” She nodded, still smiling, but it had gone a bit wobbly around the edges. “I was glad to see you, too.”
His breath bottled up inside him for a moment. “Yeah?”
“It reminded me of how we first met.”
“I don’t remember you trying to bean me in the head with Jane Austen when we first met.” Minor detail, but one that had almost ended with a concussion.
He laughed and she did the same.
“No, but it was in the same bookstore,” she countered.
Sawyer remembered it well. “Yes, right where the romance and sci-fi/fantasy genres converge.”
“Right there on the shelf—the book we were both looking for.” She held out her hands as if showcasing the perfect invisible book on an invisible shelf…a shelf from another life.
“The Princess Bride,” they both said in unison.
“You had just arrived in Waterford,” she said.
“It was my fifth town in four years.” He’d always sworn that once he started making his own way in the world, he’d never move around as much as he had when he was a kid and look at his life now. You’re fixing that, though. This will be the job that changes everything. That’s why he
was trying to urge the town council to vote in favor of the re-design so he could get a permanent position with Ridley and finally put down some roots. “And you were my second friend.”
Jamie’s face crumpled into an expression of mock despair. “Rick will always be first.”
“But you’ll always be prettier.”
A giggle escaped her. “Don’t tell him that.”
“I would never. It would destroy him.” He was only half joking. Rick the Romancer might have finally fallen for someone, but Sawyer had a feeling his ego was still mostly intact—and as sensitive as ever. “I’ve got to confess.”
Jamie’s face fell. She was suddenly looking at him as if he was about to make some terrible announcement, like he was planning to tear down another of her favorite buildings. Or worse, her beloved tree.
That wasn’t what he had in mind at all. “I should have said something earlier, but…I’m hungry.”
She laughed again, and the sound was like music to him. “Me too! I skipped breakfast.”
“Lunch?” He dipped his head, searching her gaze.
They could do this, couldn’t they—share a simple meal together? It didn’t mean either one of them was backing down. At the end of the day, he would always be on Ridley’s side and she’d remain devoted to True Love. But they could still be friends, couldn’t they?
He hoped so.
Are you sure that’s all you’re hoping for?
Jamie bit her lip, then finally nodded. “Lunch. I know just the place.”
Great! It was a date…sort of.
Wasn’t it?
Chapter Eleven
Jamie shook her head and snuggled her hands deep into her coat pockets as she sat across a picnic table from Sawyer at Jeff’s Homemade Ice Cream. “I can’t believe you’re eating ice cream in this weather.”
She’d brought him there for burgers, which they’d both dug into with gusto. Jeff’s was famous for their cheeseburgers, and the menu hadn’t changed a bit since the modest burger joint/ice cream shop opened back in the 1950s. The restaurant had a few tables inside, but she and Sawyer had always sat outside when they’d come back here in high school. Doing otherwise would have been out of the question—a massive breach of tradition. But with the wind blowing off of the lake and a fine silver mist clinging to the forest’s tree line, she couldn’t fathom eating anything frozen out there today.
