She tried not to dwell on it. He asked for her opinion on everything for The Sandy Tortilla, from the wall color to whether Sophie would prefer a stainless steel mini-fridge or another white one. She had finished the dresses for the garden party a couple of days earlier and invited him to come to a fashion show before she had to send them to Arcata.
She knew the moment he entered the shop, and not only because the bell rang. His long stride and manly footsteps gave him away, as did his now-familiar spicy cologne. As he took her in his arms and planted a kiss on her lips, she inhaled the scent of sawdust too.
“Mm,” he said. “I’ve missed you.” He caressed the soft skin on her back. “Me and you. This weekend. Nothing but movies and take-out. Deal?”
“Deal.” She kissed him quick. “Fashion show?”
“Can I watch you change?” He raised his eyebrows as he leaned against the counter.
“Gross,” she said. “Trying to squeeze into a tight dress isn’t a good look on anyone.”
“I disagree.”
“No,” Millie said. “You stay here.” She hurried into the sewing room and closed the door. The teal dress had been ordered a size bigger than her, but she’d pinned it to hug every curve. Once clothed, she felt more self-conscious than she had in a long time. Even though Jared sat with her every morning in her workout pants and ratty T-shirt. Even though he’d made it clear he liked her for her and not what she wore.
She opened the door and stepped into the hall, mincing forward though she didn’t wear heels. She paused at the mouth of the showroom and turned slowly.
“So? What do you think?”
Jared drank her in, from the top of her head to the hem of the dress. And back. Flames burned deep inside his eyes, and his voice sounded like muted thunder when he said, “Gorgeous.”
By the time she repeated the process twice and had shimmied into the lavender dress, she felt naked as she stood before Jared. He’d undressed her with his eyes three times now, and her throat felt like a cotton plantation.
“Stunning,” he said this time. He hadn’t so much as moved from his position against the counter, but now he extended his hand toward her. She rushed forward, her lips already parted and ready to receive his.
This kiss held more passion than any of their previous. He crushed her to his chest, stroked his strong mouth down her throat, along her collarbone, across her shoulder.
“The dress,” she panted.
“I’d help you take it off, but I’m afraid of those buttons.”
The tiny glass buttons would certainly break under his care. She smiled, chest to chest with this man. “Give me a few minutes to change. Then you can take me to dinner.”
“Oh, I can, huh?” His eyes glittered like the hottest part of a fire: The blue flame that burned brightly in the center.
She bounded away from him, happiness making her step higher and her burdens lighter.
“Millie?”
She turned, her heart skidding at the serious nature in his tone. “Yeah?”
“What happened to the picture you had here?”
She inhaled and held the oxygen like it was all she would ever need. “It-it broke.”
“No, it didn’t.”
“It did.” She marched back over to him. “I broke it. And then I threw it away.”
“When are you going to tell me who was in it?”
Never, her mind screamed. Her mouth opened in a silent screech, but no sound came out. “Not today.” She turned, but he caught her wrist.
“Today seems like a great day,” he insisted. “I’m asking. No, I’m begging you to tell me.”
He released her, allowing her to pace away from him. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, frantic to find something––anything—but the truth to satisfy him.
She couldn’t.
She faced him, lowered her shoulders as she lifted her chin, desperately hoping Jared would be different than the three previous men she’d told about Brady. She needed him to be different, to try to understand, to stay.
“That man was Brady Larson. My husband.”
Whatever Jared had expected to hear, Millie knew it wasn’t that. A flush rose through his neck and stained his cheeks. “Your what?”
“My husband.” She took a tentative step closer. “He died six years ago in a cliff diving accident.”
Another step. “I wanted to tell you. Heck, I did tell you. Only you were drugged and asleep.”
Another step, this time accompanied by a tear. “We were married for three years. I loved him.”
One last step left only a yard between them. He could reach out and comfort her, take her hand, touch her, if only he would.
He didn’t.
“Past tense?” he asked, the small muscles around his mouth flinching. “Loved him?”
Millie’s insides quivered like a bowlful of gelatin. She dropped her gaze to his feet. “I’m trying to reinvent myself into someone who doesn’t love him.”
“So you do still love him.” His voice sounded muted, the way sound did after it snowed.
“He was my husband. I think I’ll always love him.”
Jared’s breath rushed out of his mouth in obvious frustration. “How do you expect me to compete with that?” He brushed by her, a look of agony riding in his expression.
“Jared—”
He spun back to her, his beautiful face breaking, crumpling, rebuilding, reshaping. He stepped into her personal space, closed his eyes, and breathed in the scent of her hair. “I’m falling in love with you,” he whispered. “But I…I need some time to think about this.”
“Don’t go,” she pleaded.
“I’ll be back,” he promised. “I’m not leaving town or anything.” Tears trailed down her cheeks, and he wiped them away. “You couldn’t even tell me about him. Why not?”
When she couldn’t answer through the thickness in her throat, he continued. “Is he why you thought I was lying about saving the elephant seal?”
She couldn’t keep up with the questions. Everything melded together, formed into a funnel of noise and tears and hurt. Hurt so deep she didn’t know the end of it.
“Never mind. I already know the answers to my questions.” He strode toward the front door, leaving her standing there in a lavender garden dress now stained with her tears.
Chapter Eighteen
The next morning, Jared waved to Millie, sitting on her balcony with two cups of tea on the table, as he headed out on his motorcycle.
It cut him to do that to her: To have left her in her shop and now to forego their comfortable morning ritual.
His arms shook with the exertion it took to keep the bike heading north, to keep himself from turning around. He didn’t allow himself to glance at the purple door of her shop as he passed.
He parked in front of the newly painted salon, admiring the way the navy color complimented the lighter sky as the sun rose above the rooftops. The light snapped on inside the salon, and he hooked his helmet over his handlebars.
Sadie met him at the door, all smiles and scissors. “Jared, how are you?” She embraced him with the familiarity of an old friend. Though he’d known her growing up, he’d never been close with her. But everyone knew everyone in Redwood Bay, and she was the same age as Sophie.
He sank into the chair she indicated. “You know, I’ve been better.” He wished he could recall the words as soon as he said them. This was Millie’s gal-pal. He certainly couldn’t vent his confusion about his relationship with Millie to Sadie.
He couldn’t get the questions out of his mind either. Did Millie really still love her husband? Would she ever be able to love him as much? Did it really matter? That guy was gone; Jared was here now.
But he’d never loved anyone enough to marry them. Maybe he’d feel the same way.
Sadie interrupted his thoughts as she swept a drape around his neck and snapped it tight. “Heard you got a job with Tripp.” Her fingers combed through his hair, pushing it this w
ay and pulling it that. “You’ve got a fabulous girlfriend. Things can’t be all that bad.” She met his eye in the mirror and smiled.
He could only return it halfway. “Things always look good on the surface.”
She took a deep breath. “Ain’t that the truth.” She wiped away the tired edge in her eyes; the weight of an unknown problem seemed to evaporate from her shoulders. “So what are we doing? Just cleaning up? Trimming?”
He confirmed he just wanted the shagginess gone, and she got to work. His phone vibrated on her counter, and she reached for it but he waved her off. “They can wait.”
He saw the question in her eyes—What if it’s Millie?—but he’d given up hope that she’d call him. Wasn’t really her style—she’d rather press her nose to windows and lurk in doorways. Jared sighed, wishing his thoughts about the woman he longed to kiss hadn’t turned so negative.
After his neck had been shaved and he’d paid Sadie for coming in early for him, he stepped onto the sidewalk and swiped open his phone to see who’d called.
It was Shawn Loveland, his realtor. Jared settled onto his bike while he waited for Shawn to answer his phone.
“Hey, Jared,” he said. “Sorry to call so early.”
“No problem.” Jared stared down the street toward where Shawn’s office sat, thinking about the two pieces of land they’d be looking at that evening. His heart sank into his stomach with the thought of building a house. No, that wasn’t right. He felt a bit sick at building a house in Redwood Bay.
Did he really want to stay? He’d seen a couple of homes already, and he’d been just as indecisive then, despite what he’d told Millie about his desire to stay in town.
“A new home came on the market today,” Shawn said, shattering Jared’s circular thoughts. “Wondered if you could sneak away at lunch.”
Jared frowned. This week he’d worked feverishly on the second dresser, determined to have it finished by today so he could visit his mother without anything hanging over his head.
“Maybe,” he said, checking his watch. He was late already, and he suddenly didn’t feel like looking at real estate today. “Actually, I don’t think I can. I’m going to have to cancel tonight too. I’m going up to see my mom in Medford tomorrow, and I don’t think I have time.”
“Yeah, sure.” Shawn paused for a moment, and Jared heard clicking through the phone. “What does next week look like for you?”
Jared wasn’t sure about his schedule, wasn’t sure about his desire to stay in town, wasn’t sure about much of anything. He hadn’t told Millie he was looking for a place of his own, hoping to surprise her when the taco stand was finished, when the time was right. He wondered now if that time would ever come. He wondered if he could live in this town with her and not be hers.
“Monday should work,” he told Shawn, ready to hang up, get to work, move on. Shawn confirmed, and Jared buckled on his helmet. As he rode the few miles to the wharf, he removed the “move on” feelings from his mind.
He didn’t want to move on. He wanted to move forward with Millie. To distract himself, he got to work with wood and stain and fixtures. By late afternoon, he’d finished building the dresser. He pulled out each drawer, ensuring they all ran smooth on their tracks; he brushed off the final whispers of sawdust; he called the customer to arrange a date and time for the delivery. Jared said goodbye to Tripp and headed out for the night.
But he couldn’t go back to a house that wasn’t his, next door to a woman he couldn’t live without. He also couldn’t ride to his mother’s right now, in the dark, along an unfamiliar highway without a change of clothes, a phone call, or an explanation.
He straddled his bike and sat in the parking lot, considering his options. Tripp had already switched off the lights in the office and exited before Jared could so much as turn the key in the ignition.
“You okay?” his cousin called.
“No,” Jared said truthfully. “What are you doing tonight?”
“It’s Friday night,” Tripp said. “Poker night. You wanna come?”
Jared didn’t want to play poker. But he nodded and said, “Definitely,” and followed Tripp to his house on the eastern edge of town.
Taylor showed up with the cards and chips not five minutes after Jared and Tripp. Mike, the owner of the Jet Ski rental shop, came bearing a six-foot sub sandwich. And Blaine Townsend, Lucy’s boyfriend, arrived last with two fresh pies from the diner and a thermos of hot apple cider.
“Jared,” he said. “Good to see you again.” He gave him a slap on the back and continued into Tripp’s living room where a folding table had been set up. A basketball game blared in the background while Jared wondered if he’d entered the Bermuda Triangle.
Poker night—heck, guy’s night out—wasn’t really his scene. While dating Carla, he found himself at fancy restaurants and attending the symphony. Courting Millie certainly didn’t involve sports, or cigars, or overindulging on blueberry pie either.
Turned out Jared liked blueberry pie. And cigars. And sports. And winning.
“Who invited him?” Taylor growled from behind his hand.
“Hey, now,” Tripp said. “It’s a friendly game.” He cast Jared a sideways glance. “Plus he looked like he could use the company.”
“I’ll bet,” Blaine said, laying down a couple of cards and picking up two new ones.
“What does that mean?” Jared asked, switching out a single card. He didn’t get what he needed.
“Lucy said Millie’s in a frenzy.”
Jared grunted and folded his hand.
“What happened?” Tripp asked.
Taylor watched him over his cards, dropping his eyes when Jared looked at him. Tell: He didn’t have a good hand, and he knew Jared had found out about Millie’s husband and then gone into silent mode. Sometimes Jared hated that he could read people so well.
Jared threw back another swig of apple cider, wishing it were spiked. “Did you guys know Millie was married?”
Tripp looked at Mike; Blaine exchanged a glance with Taylor.
“No,” Tripp said. “Divorced?”
“Widowed,” Jared said. “Six years ago. I guess her husband was an adrenaline junkie and he died in a cliff diving accident.”
Taylor upped the bid. “And this matters because?”
Jared really didn’t want to talk about it, and he got up and went into the kitchen for his third slice of pie. Behind him, Blaine folded his hand and followed Jared.
“I know we don’t know each other very well,” he said, dishing himself the last piece of pie. “But I took care of Sophie after you left.”
“I know,” Jared said. “Thank you.”
“I’m also dating the smartest woman in town, even if she still won’t say yes to my multiple and varied marriage proposals.”
“Lucy obviously isn’t that smart then.”
Blaine chuckled. “Oh, but she is. We were talking about you today.”
If Blaine thought that would comfort Jared, he was dead wrong. Jared folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. “And?”
“First off, I understand how you might be feeling. My dad passed away when I was ten. There’s simply no possible way to replace him.” He took a large bite of pie while Jared tried to remember Blaine’s father. “But my mom got remarried a few years later. It wasn’t easy for her, and she kept apologizing to me and my brother, saying she wasn’t trying to replace Dad.”
“Okay,” Jared said, because he wasn’t sure where Blaine was going.
“It took time for me to accept that I was different. That I wasn’t the ten-year-old I’d been when my father died. That I could grow and change, and become a person who could have two dads.”
“So, Millie just needs to figure out how to be in love with two men?”
Blaine’s eyebrows shot toward his hairline. “Did she say she loved you?”
“No,” Jared said. His shoulders slanted down. “I’ve been hoping we’d move in that direction, though.”
&nbs
p; “She could love you, if you’d let her.”
The breath left Jared’s body. “She’s still in love with her late husband.”
“You think she can’t love you too?” Blaine shook his head like Jared was missing something blatantly obvious. He held up his hands in surrender. “All I know is she was in the diner today with her friends Diana and Sadie. Lucy went and talked to them for a bit, but I didn’t get the full report. You know she makes me wash dishes when I come into town?” He rolled his eyes like he hated the job, but Jared knew better. A man didn’t take a day off work to come home and wash dishes if he wasn’t cashing in on some major perks.
Jared leaned against the counter and finished his pie, fighting the feeling that he needed to get home fast. Finally, the hand ended. Jared collected his winnings, thanked Tripp, and motored home.
Millie’s house vibrated with light and life. Sadie’s car sat in the driveway, effectively forcing Jared’s heart to the bottom of his stomach.
Girl’s night meant he wouldn’t be speaking to Millie tonight. Still, he watched the front door like maybe she’d sense his presence and come talk to him. When ten minutes had passed without so much as the fluttering of her curtains, he trudged into his house.
* * *
Millie spooned another bite of ice cream into her mouth while Sadie cooked. “I don’t know why you’re bothering with that salmon,” she said. “I’m already stuffed with Cherry Garcia.”
Sadie brandished the spatula toward Millie, who sat at the bar. “Not all of us are on an eat-whatever-you-want diet.”
Diana giggled, already on her second cocktail of the evening. “I know I’m not. Gotta keep my curves in case another motorcycle riding hottie cruises into town.”
Millie groaned, not a drop of alcohol in her system, but enough sugar to down a baby elephant. Her spoon scraped the bottom of the carton, prompting another guttural reaction.
“Come on,” Sadie said, whisking away the empty carton. “Enough ice cream.”