by J. Kenner
I slumped in a first-row chair.
"Slow start with our club yesterday, Maddie. But it'll pick up, I'm sure." My face must have looked as shell-shocked because it sure sounded like Mrs. Puglisi was trying to reassure me. "I think we need to agree on an initial element to focus on first, something that will get people's attention." She mentioned a sports star who called Applewood his hometown and the resurgence of Main Street. "Why don't you and Hayes kick around some ideas to present at next week's meeting?"
I nodded as if that was going to happen. "Actually, I'm wondering if you could tell me how he knew about this club. Did you mention it to him like you did me?"
"My mother did."
I blinked several times, although it was my ears I was pretty sure that had failed me. "Nana?"
"One-on-one in a quiet environment is really the only way she communicates these days, and whenever he was the first to show up at the pool, he'd spend time chatting with her."
The idea of Hayes hanging with Nana sure rocked my boat. Score another point for him being an all-around good guy.
But that didn't change the fact he'd lied to me about Mr. Last. In fact, it proved it. What was I missing?
FOR ONCE, LINZEE DIDN'T have any insights into Hayes's motivations. Talking on the phone that night, we focused on Emory's upcoming weekend home. But when a screaming siren announced the arrival of an ambulance out front, I promised Linzee a callback and hit the ground running. My parents were at a franchise fair, investigating options for their shop space, so I locked up on my way out.
A crowd was forming on the sidewalk across from the Puglisi house as I rushed through the cool night air. Ambulance doors had been flung open while paramedics wheeled an empty gurney up the walk.
Spying Hayes, I made a beeline for him. Nothing about us--past or present--mattered now.
"Is it Nana?"
Dressed in a tee, gym shorts, and a frown, he nodded. "Don't know if it's a heart attack or stroke or whatever."
I opened my mouth to try to say something supportive, but all that came out was a gasp.
His stepmom, Zelda, stopped before us, her belly huge inside a patchwork quilt. "I've gotta get off my feet. Keep me posted, Hayes." She shrugged the quilt off her shoulders and draped it around his.
Nodding, he grabbed hold of the quilt's edges, pulling one against his chest. Then he opened the other side and gazed invitingly at me.
My heart leaped to my throat. Admittedly, being barefoot in a knee-length sleep shirt was stupid in autumn night weather, but snuggling up with him wasn't a smart move for me, either. My new resolution with him was about boundaries, about respectability, about friendship, right?
"I know it's a little weird, Maddie, but no reason to stand there and shiver."
I shuffled from one foot to the other. And appreciating his stab at honesty, I went with my own. "What about Jenny? Would she be all right with it?"
His gaze narrowed.
"Well, she's your girlfriend, and I'm--"
"She's not my girlfriend. I don't have a girlfriend."
His words blowing through my brain, I struggled to find my own. "But yesterday, she picked you up."
"As a favor, on her way home from the CC. So I could work out with Scott in their backyard batting cage."
Wow, how I wished I could take my question back. He must think I had a real problem exaggerating/inventing relationships.
Hayes closed the gap between us in a couple of steps, and pulled me into his cocoon. My body was treated to the sensational heat of both the blanket and body variety. But I was pretty sure it was my cheeks that were flaming.
"Better?" he asked.
I let out a murmur of agreement, just as footsteps pounded from near the house. I looked up to see paramedics steering Nana out on the gurney, Mrs. Puglisi bringing up the rear.
"They say she'll be fine!" Mrs. Puglisi shouted to the neighbors. "They're just taking her in to be sure."
"Thank God," Hayes said, turning toward me. Our faces suddenly only a foot or so apart, the quilt around us tugged tighter. "I can't imagine losing her."
"Yeah, I know you visit Nana sometimes."
He smiled. "She's great, when you give her a chance. And you know, she was on to us this summer, the sneaking around. She heard us that day at the pool."
My brain circled. I was embarrassed to admit I'd discounted her as sleeping, and, well, hearing impaired. "Really?"
"She called it romantic." His brow quirked. "Then later, she kept after me to patch things up."
I saw no reason not to go for broke. "Is that when she told you about the new club I was joining?"
He did one of his long pauses. "She thought working together would get us back on track, even suggested the president/vice president thing."
"So it wasn't Mr. Last who came up with that."
He bit his lip, or maybe was biting away a smile? "I did talk to him about the club, but no, it was Nana who told me."
I drew a slow inhale, deliberately made him suffer through my long pause. "So let me get this straight, Hayes Townsend, when you said Mr. Last was behind all that, you lied to me?"
He seemed to flinch.
"You tricked me?"
A smile caught the edges of his mouth.
"You used me?"
"Wait, that one doesn't work here." His dimples flashed. "Unless you want to lodge a complaint about this quilt. Claim I'm using you for your body ... heat."
"Are you?" My pulse quickened.
"Maybe a little. But mostly it's seizing the moment to get close to you again, and try to explain why I acted like such an ass." He slid around next to me, leading me in slow steps toward our houses, while his hand gently cupped my waist.
"I never told you how things ended with Willa." He stared into space for a long moment. "She'd been cheating on me for months."
Aha, no wonder he'd wanted to take a break from dating.
"At the time you came to me with your idea, I was still pissed off--at her and myself. So I was torn. I mean, I definitely could see myself with you." He stole a look at me out of the corner of his eye. "But it was complicated. Eventually, I convinced myself it was a win-win, with you getting what you needed and me finding a safe way to move on. Not realizing how hard and fast I'd fall for you."
I went to remind him of the feelings I had for him, then thought better of it. For once, I needed to zip my lip and listen.
"When I saw Alec at the park, I assumed he was there to kick my ass. I got all pumped up, went over there ready--not just to defend myself, but against anything he said about you. So when he blew me off with a laugh, all I had left was the anger."
Stopping in front of my house, he gave his head a slow shake. "Which I, unfortunately, took out on at you. Yes, you'd made me feel stupid, but mostly I was furious at myself for not seeing the writing on the wall with a girl again. It took me a while to come to terms with all that, and to be in the right place to tell you how sorry I am."
My heart pounded. "I'm sorry, too. I should never have been dishonest with you. If I could take it back--"
"Forget it, Maddie. What I liked was your idea of starting over."
"Starting over?" Practically breathless, I stared deep into his eyes. "You mean, you're going to give me a second chance?"
"I was hoping you'd give me one."
Emotion swelled inside me as he sealed his lips over mine. I felt like the luckiest girl alive. Whatever I'd done, right or wrong, I couldn't be happier to be here, with Hayes, at this moment.
And when I got inside later, omigod, did I need to call Linzee.
THE HOMETOWN OF APPLEWOOD Club went from four members to forty in the next few weeks. Hayes and I came up with the idea to honor Applewood's emergency first responders as the club's launch project, which got a strong response. Mrs. Puglisi was very pleased and even brought Nana to a couple of the meetings. Sitting quietly in the rear, Nana tended to be forgotten, which I rationally understood but was a mistake I wouldn't make again.
In fact, Linzee and I had been dropping by on Saturday mornings to have coffee with Nana, to share details about our lives, and hear her takes--which could be even more out-of-the-box than Linzee's. We called Nana our life coach and our secret weapon, but never did she let us forget where her true royalty rested. She was Hayes's number one fan.
No problem there. I was all about making him happy, too--as happy as he was making me. For now, for our whole senior year ... and well, as long as this wild ride took us.
Tina Ferraro is the author of numerous novels and novellas and is a two-time RITA finalist for Young Adult Romance. She can usually be found in front of a keyboard in the Los Angeles home she shares with her husband and their two cats, writing her butt off--or, let's be honest, adding more on.
"THE BEST MAN IS missing."
Victoria kept her don't-worry-everything-is-under-control smile firmly in place and turned toward the bride, who was currently wringing her hands as the rest of the party milled around in the sanctuary, waiting for the rehearsal to start.
Lolly, though genuinely sweet, was also young, sheltered, and wildly dramatic. She never missed an opportunity for exaggeration, so Tori hoped this was just another bridal overreaction.
"Define missing?"
"His flight was supposed to arrive three hours ago, but no one has heard a word from him, and all Kipp's calls are going straight to voicemail," Lolly moaned with the level of angst usually reserved for disaster movies about planet-wide annihilation.
"I'm sure he's on his way," Tori soothed. "His cellphone battery probably died because he overdid it playing Candy Crush on the plane."
"No, you don't understand. Taylor never plays. And he'd never forget to charge his phone. He's a machine."
Since Victoria had never met the Manhattan-based best man, she couldn't argue for his humanity--and the fallibility that came with it. Instead, since a wedding planner's primary job within twenty-four hours of "I dos" was to stave off bridal panic attacks, she amped up the reassurance in her smile and took Lolly's arm. "Don't worry. Leave it with me and I'll track him down. Right now, all you need to be thinking about is how perfect the ceremony is going to be tomorrow. Let's find Kipp and the two of you can speak with Pastor Jim about your vows while I get this wrinkle ironed out."
Lolly let Tori guide her toward the altar where her fiance waited. "Do you think we made the right choice by writing our own vows? My grandmother's so traditional--"
"You love your vows. Your grandmother's going to love your vows. And when you walk down the aisle, all she's going to think about is how amazing you look and how happy you are."
Lolly's concern melted into relief. "You're so right. What would I do without you?"
Drive your mother insane by trying to do everything yourself. Victoria made a good living as a wedding planner, but she'd been told by many a mother of the bride that she was worth ten times her hefty fee, thanks to her ability to keep their precious darlings from turning into bridezillas.
Tori sent her charges off to speak with Pastor Jim--who had performed many a ceremony for her and knew his way around a bride and groom--and focused on the next item on the to-do list: Locate missing best man.
She strode to the rear of the church, flicking through screens on her tablet to bring up the files her business partner had left her on the Houghton-Gaines wedding. This happy event was supposed to be Sidney's headache, but her partner had gone on a reality dating show last year, fallen hard for the host, and had recently begun filming a spin-off show with him creating dream weddings for deserving couples.
Which was incredible exposure for their business, but meant Sidney was virtually unreachable on filming days and left Victoria holding the bag for this wedding that had to be cursed.
Bridesmaids with allergies sneezing into their bouquets, a mother of the groom who insisted last minute that they had to have a separate four-tier wedding cake for gluten-free guests, and now a missing best man.
Tori had dosed the bridesmaids with antihistamines and cajoled the baker into making the second smallest tier of the original cake with almond flour. Now all she had to do was find the best man and pray nothing else went wrong.
Luckily, Sidney was as organized as she was. The best man's contact information and itinerary were all stored under a tab marked Taylor.
The itinerary file opened.
Victoria's heart stuttered.
She'd assumed Taylor was his first name. She'd never heard him referred to as anything else, but the name written large across the top of the itinerary and sending shockwaves through her perfectly ordered world was Nicholas. Nicholas Taylor.
It couldn't be her Nick.
It was a common name. There had to be hundreds of Nicholas Taylors in Manhattan. And probably dozens of those were California transplants.
There was no reason to suspect Nicholas Taylor, absentee best man, was the same Nick Taylor she'd loved with every atom of her teenage heart for three years of high school before college on different coasts had pulled them apart. The same Nick Taylor she'd reconnected with for an all-too-brief summer fling in the weeks after graduating from USC. The same Nick Taylor who had vanished back to the East Coast for law school and stopped responding to her calls and emails. Who had left her to fend for herself as she tried to figure out what the hell a twenty-two-year-old with a bachelor's degree in English and a mountain of student loans was supposed to do about the little blue line on the pregnancy test.
No. It couldn't be him. There were at least five million Nick Taylors in the world. This was a different one. It had to be.
Forcing herself to remain calm and poised, Tori pulled up the airline's flight status app--only to find the best man's flight had landed right on schedule three hours ago. Eden was a good hour north of LAX, but even in the most brutal traffic, he should have arrived by now.
Pastor Jim had things under control at the altar, so Victoria slipped out of the cavernous sanctuary and into the narrow entry hall to call the other Nick Taylor's cell.
It went straight to voicemail. Her blood chilled.
She shouldn't have recognized his voice. It had been eleven years since she'd heard it. She shouldn't have any memory of the sound, but her heart recognized it, even if her brain denied the possibility.
The tone was a shade deeper, somber, and businesslike as he went through the standard voicemail instructions. She was so shaken by hearing his voice, she heard the beep to leave her message before she knew it. She jerked the phone away from her ear and stabbed at her screen to end the call, heart racing.
Crap.
She was a professional. She had a reason to call him. And she was thirty-three freaking years old. She should be able to be mature about this.
But as the exterior door to the church flew open so hard it banged against the opposite wall and a man in a dark suit rushed inside, all thoughts of maturity vanished.
She was fifteen again, clapping eyes on Nick Taylor for the first time. Colors were brighter, emotions sharper. Everything was more intense when Nick was in the room. It had always been that way, the very air around him electrified by his presence.
The tangible force of his personality hadn't diminished in the past decade. If anything, it had intensified. But it was darker now, carrying a new hardness.
Was he happy?
And where had that thought come from? Why should she care if the man who had abandoned her was happy? She'd written him out of the story of her life. This was a blip. A momentary speed bump. By Monday he'd be in Manhattan, and she'd go back to forgetting him.
Nick rapidly scanned the entry and froze when his gaze landed on her. His jaw dropped, a crack appearing in his fierce focus. Those unforgettable amber eyes widened with shock.
Her daughter's eyes.
"Victoria?"
She could do this. "Hey, Nick. You're late."
TORI JACKSON.
He couldn't process it. The love of his life was here. He'd known she was still in Eden, but he h
adn't expected her to be inside the freaking church.
Her words were cool, but her face was flushed and her eyes were wide and ... wary?
"You haven't changed a bit," he murmured, and the words held both truth and lies. She was as gorgeous as ever with her ivy green eyes and cafe-au-lait skin--but she looked different. More composed. Maturity, he supposed. She was a woman now, not the girl he'd remembered so many times over the years.
Victoria. His one regret.
Her eyes held his and a rusty thread of connection stretched taut between them, taking him back to a time when he lived to impress her. He hadn't felt this in years--this tightness in his chest, this shortness of breath. Funny how all the old feelings welled up as if they'd never left him, just waited until he clapped eyes on her again. Emotion still fresh after eleven years of hibernation.
He would have stared at her forever, but she waved him toward the sanctuary. "You should go in. We've already started."
"I know the drill. Stand next to Kipp. Hand him the rings. No rehearsal needed."
Her mouth pursed into a disapproving moue. "Nevertheless, rehearsals put everyone at ease. Go on. They've been wondering if you fell off a cliff."
"Tori." He didn't want to go. Didn't want to do anything that would take his eyes off her. Couldn't risk that he would lose her for another eleven years if he did. He'd considered looking her up while he was in town. Fantasized about it. But this wasn't how he'd pictured their reunion.
Focused intently on her tablet, a blush still rode her cheeks as she nodded toward the doors. "I should get inside."
"Then allow me." He held the door open for her. She moved quickly, avoiding brushing against him. Nick followed her inside, and a cheer went up from the groomsmen.
Duty called.
He tried to pay attention to the rehearsal, but it was impossible with Victoria moving between the pews.
The tablet. The teal sheath and tidy updo hairstyle. Her air of calm and authority. It all added up to one thing: wedding planner.
"Taylor? It's our turn."
Nick yanked his gaze off the wedding planner and focused on the maid of honor at his side.
"Right. Sorry." Belatedly realizing they were holding up the practice recessional, he extended his elbow to her, and they followed Lolly and Kipp up the aisle. The rest of the bridal party fell in line, but Nick was barely aware of them or the bridesmaid on his arm. His gaze had returned to the upswept midnight curls Victoria had somehow figured out how to tame in the past decade.
