With J. D. involved with Vonnie, and Jeff and Amy away on their honeymoon, she’d have plenty of time to herself.
Maybe I should take a trip, too
. San Antonio? Too far. Presidio? She could picture herself ending up in trouble at the Mexico border. Hike through Big Bend National Park? No, too much space. As much as she loved Marfa, she needed a change of scenery, something she hadn’t yearned for in years.
Vonnie’s melodic yodel caught her attention, and the woman waved. “I hate to rush, but I have tons to catch up on. Did J. D. tell you about the twenty-four-hour theater festival this weekend?”
“Nope.” Their conversation yesterday hadn’t been quite so casual.
“Oh, I hope you’ll come.” Vonnie gushed on about teams of actors and writers putting on seven-minute original plays. “They’ll be practicing all over town Friday morning, so you might overhear a few of them. Then on Friday night, they'll take the stage.”
“Sounds cool.” Drama. Like she needed any more in her life.
Vonnie’s black hair swooshed around her shoulders with her enthusiastic nod. “It’s going to be intense. And amazing.” She handed Clarissa a twenty. “Keep the change, honey.”
Vonnie’s warmth made the endearment sound real. Clarissa could easily picture them as friends. Once the weirdness between them faded. Much of that would depend on J. D.
Clarissa began clearing the table and waved to Vonnie, who smiled and hurried down the street. It wasn’t hard to like the woman. No denying Vonnie’s passion for theater. Just what Marfa needed. And after a while, it wouldn’t be awkward seeing J. D. with her.
She locked the front door and carried the dishes into the kitchen. “Slow day, Harvey.”
“Back to the old Marfa.”
“Yeah.” Why did it make her a little disoriented? “Do you need me to help make any food for the shower?”
Harvey scraped the griddle. “Nope, I finished this morning. All you have to do is unload the fridge and serve the guests. I have to run out and get a card and a present, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Typical guy, waiting till the last possible second. “You’re a sweetheart.”
“Amy and Jeff deserve the best. How about you, need any help decorating?”
She attempted a perky attitude. “Nope, I’ve got it covered. Jeff and Amy didn’t want a lot of disposable decorations, so it’s mostly flowers. Easy stuff.”
“Then why the droopy face?”
“Nothing, I’ll just miss Amy.” Already missed her. With family and friends from both sides in town, both Amy and Jeff had left Clarissa behind already.
“She’s not leaving,” Harvey said. “Except for the honeymoon, but they’ll be back in two weeks.”
“I know, but it’ll be different. They’ll be married.”
Harvey laughed. “Do you think their infatuation with each other could get any more intense?”
She smiled, but sadness still bothered her. No real clue why. “I hope not. They’d never do anything else but stare at each other.” What was it like to fall into someone’s eyes and get lost there? Like falling from the sky in a glider? Then the inevitable crash and burn—investing so much love in one person, then having it all ripped away. Jeff and Amy braved the risk. The very thought of marriage scared the bejesus out of Clarissa.
“Hey.” Harvey startled her out of her thoughts. “Sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. I’m just preoccupied with all the details. There’s so much to do, and now it’s all happening.” Too fast.
Harvey shrugged. “These things take on a momentum of their own once they start. It will all fall into place the way it should. See you in a bit, kid.”
“No need to rush.” How could one guy have so much optimism? She took a moment to try to embrace it.
He’s right. Let it go. And don’t let Amy and Jeff see you like this
.
Humming “Hakuna Matata,” she cleared all the tables of their usual condiments and candles, and spread white linens on the food and gift tables. No worries for the rest of her days? Typical Disney fairy tale, and she wasn’t exactly a typical Disney princess. Not even a typical girl. While others in school spoke of their dream weddings and dream guys, she wondered why they made such a fuss about it.
Her dream guy? She couldn’t even conjure an image of him. He’d have to be kind. Considerate. Interesting. Someone she could talk to. Be herself around. Someone like….
A knock at the window made her turn.
Dylan?
A day. It had only been one day since Dylan had seen her, but it seemed so much longer. How could she look more beautiful than yesterday? He stood outside the café like the village idiot, uncertain whether he should wait, or see her now.
Now. Everything in him urged him to go inside. Talk to her. Clear the air. Now, while she was alone in the café, before all the shower guests arrived.
The changing look on her face—surprise, then happiness, then shyness—made him realize he’d made the right choice. She waved him to the door and hurried to unlock it.
“You’re early.” Said softly, she made it sound inviting rather than a problem. He’d have preferred something along the line of, “How are you.”
“I thought you might need some help.” He stepped inside and glanced around the room. “But as usual, I’m wrong. It looks great.”
“Yeah, I’m almost done. Except for the food, but I’m waiting until others arrive because most of it needs to be refrigerated.”
Rambling? Was she nervous?
As nervous as I am?
“Good thinking.”
“In fact, I was about to go change and come back.”
“Oh, sorry. Should I leave?”
“No.” Her shoulders slumped. “Please don’t. I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re…okay.”
“I don’t know if I’d go that far. I’m alive and breathing.” After the glider experience, his mind couldn’t center again, like the controls on the dashboard of his brain kept spinning. At least it had prevented him from his usual worry: what to do about his business and the proposed buy. Mario’s last text kept haunting him, the new guy asking probing questions about the business. Something about it bugged him.
She searched his face. “Because of the glider ride.”
He scratched his head and looked away. “Yeah, though I’ve come to think of it as the glider ride from hell.” He’d laid in his yurt most of the afternoon, wondering why. Why had J. D. acted so insane?
“J. D. didn’t run into any trouble in the air, did he? Someone at the café said the plane pitched forward at one point.”
And sideways and up and backward. Dylan had had no idea a glider could imitate a roller coaster. Had Clarissa known beforehand what the cowboy had in mind? She’d argued against him going, and her concern seemed genuine. None of it made sense. “The control slipped in J. D.’s hand. I’m not really sure; it’s all kind of a blur.”
“He’s normally very precise with his flying.”
He withheld a wince. “I gathered that.”
“I’m so sorry.” Her shyness returned. “He…looks out for me.”
“I know.” Definitely something he wouldn’t forget.
“We never….” She bit her lip.
“I know.” He said it softly, no judgment. He’d gathered as much from Jeff. So why did hearing her say it fill him with such a heady sense of triumph? When she released her lip and it uncurled, he almost forgot to say, “If you need to go change, I can stay here and hold down the fort till you get back.”
She studied him a beat longer than seemed necessary, then glanced at the clock. “Guess I should. I can’t wear my work clothes.”
“No one would notice.” When she furrowed her brow, he hastened to add, “You look great in anything.”
She backed away. “I’ll be back soon.” She hesitated at the kitchen doors, then disappeared, growing smaller with each swing of the doors.
Curious, he went to watch through the small window in the swinging door, then through the kitchen to the back door. She disappeared again down a path and past a flowery trellis.
She lives close by?
He resisted the temptation to follow and instead took a seat at the coffee bar with his cell. No need to check messages, really. He’d caught up on the backlog yesterday and taken care of a few more this morning. Weird that he still couldn’t shake the feeling about the new guy, Randy. Something about him set off alarms in Dylan’s head, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. And couldn’t do anything from here, so he’d have to let it go until he returned.
Within a few minutes, the back door slammed. “I’m back,” Clarissa called. “Want to help me bring out the food?”
“Sure.” He entered the kitchen. Noise at the rear drew him to the large refrigerator, its door wide open.
“Harvey made too much, I think.” She straightened and held three lidded glass containers toward him.
Dylan reached for them but his grasp slipped as he took her all in. “Wow.”
A white flower tucked behind her ear, pale yellow sundress, Marilyn Monroe-style, tied behind her neck. Backless. Smooth skin over muscle and bone, her body elegant but with a bearing of strength.
She steadied the containers in his hands. “Whoa, careful. Those are breakable.”
“Sorry. I wasn’t….” Part of a tattoo swirled out from beneath the dress, and he wanted to find the rest of it. Trace the lines and colors with his tongue, his mouth.
“Are you all right?”
He gulped. “You look amazing.”
A rose tinge along her cheeks made her even lovelier. “Oh. Thanks.”
If he wasn’t holding these damn containers, he’d grab her instead.
She turned too fast and smacked her head on the freezer door.
He hastily set down the dishes. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” A plate smashed to the floor. “Oh fuck.”
The café phone rang like an alarm.
“Want me to get that?” Bad timing. Dylan wished whoever called could have waited until he’d comforted Clarissa.
Rubbing the side of her head, Clarissa hurried to the wall phone. “No, I will.” She lifted the receiver. “Blue Moon Café.” She nodded. “Almost.”
Dylan set to work cleaning up the dropped platter. Not a complete goner. The plate had cracked, but the food was intact. He carried it to the counter.
She looked over at Dylan. “Yes, Dylan’s here helping me. But stall her a little longer. Everyone’s supposed to be here in about twenty minutes.”
Only twenty minutes? He’d hoped for a longer time with her alone.
She hung up. “Guess we better hurry. Amy wants to take her mom and sister out and Jeff’s freaking.”
“Do you have another serving dish? We can salvage this food.”
“Great.” She pulled one from an upper cabinet, set it beside the damaged one, and began to transfer the canapés.
He’d never before noticed how slender and long her fingers were, delicate but deft in their movement. When some filling smeared on her fingertip, he watched as she brought it to her lips and sucked it. Her cheeks hollowed and mouth puckered. He imagined her tongue darting along her finger. The sweetest sensation rolled over him like a drug, then concentrated in his groin.
She stilled, only her eyes moving as she looked up at him.
One of those magical moments that only happened in the movies. So perfect for a kiss.
Banging at the front door made them start.
“Someone’s here.” She slipped away and was gone. Voices mingled, lilting tones of welcome and surprise.
Aaaand kiss the magic good-bye
. Dylan gathered up the stacked containers again and carried them out. A quick, “Hey,” and a smile at the newcomers, and then he went back for more. On his third trip, Clarissa joined him in the kitchen again.
She lifted the last of the containers. “I really appreciate you doing all this.”
“No problem.”
“Now all I need is to set out the drinks and join the party.”
“Let’s do it.” He winced, then realized he’d given himself away.
Real suave
.
Her face flushed again. She hastened away. “The wine and beer’s in the other fridge.”
Soft yet huskier than usual, her voice hit him harder than her punch had. “Got it.”
***
Clarissa’s head felt light. Almost airy.
Probably because it’s empty
. What the hell was wrong with her? She cursed her strappy sandals as she hurried into the outer room and switched on the coffee urn, then mindlessly rearranged the cups.
Bethany Jackson, one of Amy’s friends from college, wandered over. “Can I help with anything?”
“Nope, it’s all under control.”
Except for me, apparently
. One glance over at Dylan and she flushed again. She really had to get it together before Amy arrived.
Bethany watched Dylan with similar intensity. “So Amy has no clue about the shower?”
For once, thank goodness for banal conversation, or Clarissa might have told the girl hands off Dylan. Why? She had no claim on him. “Oh probably. She didn’t want a traditional shower, so Jeff thought it would be nice to throw a party and include everyone.” Would he have kissed her in the kitchen, or had she imagined it? And why couldn’t Bethany keep her fucking eyes off him?
“Who’s that guy?” Bethany practically purred.
“What guy?” Stupid question. At Bethany’s tilted head and furrowed brow, Clarissa nodded. “Oh, you mean Dylan. Sorry. He’s Jeff’s best man. Dylan Wall.” Currently schmoozing with Jeff’s parents. Of course, he’d know them from college, wouldn’t he?
“Are you two….” Lips pursed, Bethany crossed her fingers.
“Us?” Clarissa started to shake her head but couldn’t quite manage to finish. “Noooo.”
Bethany arched a brow as if taking aim. “He. Is. Hot.”
Oh yeah, there they were—arrows of lust shooting from Bethany’s eyes, lids half-closed as if already in the throes of passion.
Yeah, she’s probably a screamer
. The type who let everyone within earshot know when she was screwing someone, when she was just about ready to come, and when she’d hit the finish line with a bang. Clarissa wrinkled her nose. “You think?”
“You
don’t
?” Playgirl-like, Bethany’s smiling lips parted.
If she bites a long nail and bends over to expose her cleavage, I’m going to puke
. Clarissa shrugged. “Mm. I’ve been too busy.” At the ring of the café phone, she rushed for it but it stopped midway through the second ring. “The signal! They’re almost here. Everyone ready?”