Authors: Stephanie Bond
“None for me, thanks,” she said when Nikki started to serve her a slice.
“Are you sure?” Nikki asked. “It looks so yummy, and you’re so trim, you can spare the calories.”
“Thanks, but I’m stuffed,” she said, then took another small sip of wine. She’d nursed the one glass all evening because she didn’t want to become too sentimental.
“Hello, all.”
Amy looked up to see Rachel Hutchins standing there wearing a pink sweater dress that looked as if it had been knitted onto her curvy body. Kendall shifted in his chair and his knee brushed Amy’s. She pulled away.
“Hi, Rachel,” Nikki said. “Have you met Amy Bradshaw?”
“We met earlier,” Rachel said, smiling in Amy’s direction. “Are you getting settled in?”
“Yes, thank you. And Nikki was kind enough to cook dinner.”
Rachel glanced at the table. “Ooh, chocolate.”
“Would you like a slice to take—” Nikki began.
“I’d love one,” Rachel said, then pulled a chair over to sit between Kendall and Amy.
Amy moved her chair to the side to make room. “Here, you can have mine,” she said, sliding the untouched slice of cake toward the woman.
“You don’t like chocolate?” Rachel asked, picking up a fork.
“Not tonight,” Amy murmured.
Rachel’s gaze dropped to Amy’s hand. “What a gorgeous ring.”
Amy fingered the chunky topaz solitaire. “Thank you…my guy gave it to me.”
Kendall made a small choking noise, then pounded his chest and stretched his neck.
“You okay, bro?” Porter asked.
“Sorry,” Kendall squeaked. “Wine went down the wrong way.”
Rachel reached over to pat his shoulder and coo as if he were a pet—
her
pet—until he recovered. Then she cut into the cake, ate a big bite, and moaned.
“Oh, this is
so
good,” she said thickly. She continued to make noises that bordered on orgasmic as everyone around the table squirmed. Kendall in particular seemed on edge, his eyes still watering. Amy, on the other hand, was enjoying his discomfort.
“Another piece?” she asked sweetly when Rachel polished off the last bite and licked the fork clean.
“No, thanks,” Rachel said. “I actually just came over to remind Kendall that he left his laptop in my room.” She turned to him and batted her impossibly long lashes. “Do you want to come up and get it?”
A pregnant pause enveloped the table. Amy realized it was up to her to ease the awkward moment and pushed to her feet. “Why don’t we call it a night? I’ll clear the table.”
“I’ll help,” Nikki said, jumping to her feet.
“Me, too,” Porter said, then shot Kendall a look that told him he was on his own.
Amy didn’t glance at Kendall as she grabbed plates and stacked them on her arm, a talent honed from years of waitressing to put herself through night school. She felt rather than saw him stand.
“Amy,” he said. “It was nice to…reminisce.”
She looked up and gave him a breezy smile. “Good night.”
“Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked.
“I’ll be at the bridge site,” she said simply, then turned and walked toward the kitchen.
At the last second, she gave in to the urge to see them together, as a couple. She turned and watched as they walked away, Rachel stuck on him like a big piece of pink lint. Kendall glanced back over his shoulder and caught her gaze. Amy just smiled, then kept walking.
7
T
he smile was still frozen on Amy’s face when she walked into the kitchen and joined Nikki at the sink to scrape their dinner plates.
“I can’t apologize enough,” Nikki said, her expression and voice anguished. “I had no idea that you and Kendall were once… I mean, I can’t believe Porter didn’t tell me.”
“It’s okay,” Amy said quickly. “I should’ve told you. But it was a long time ago, and I didn’t want to stir up anything. Besides, it looks as if Kendall has definitely moved on.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Nikki murmured.
“It doesn’t matter anyway. One of the reasons we split in the first place is because he wanted me to stay here in Sweetness, and I wanted to get away from this place. And on that matter, nothing has changed.”
Nikki’s jaw suddenly dropped. “Your connection to Sweetness—is that why the ad for single women was run in the Broadway newspaper?”
Amy chose her words carefully. “According to the website, Broadway was chosen because of its high unemployment rate and distance from Sweetness. The Armstrongs theorized that women who traveled a long distance and with friends would be more committed to stay.” She didn’t want to raise suspicion on why Marcus might have been keeping tabs on her and wanted to lure her home.
“They were right,” Nikki said, glancing around the bustling kitchen. “The women have become very close, even more so after their children arrived.”
“Did any fathers come?”
“A few of the women’s exes came and signed on to work on a crew. I know one couple that even got back together after the ex-husband relocated here to be close to his daughter.”
“That’s nice,” Amy murmured.
“There’ve been a few squabbles, but for the most part, everyone tries to get along.”
Porter walked up carrying more dishes. “We’ve got this,” Nikki said, shooing Amy away. “You must be exhausted—you should rest.”
“I am tired,” Amy admitted. Plus she felt like a third wheel and wanted to give the lovebirds some time alone. Besides, the emergency chocolate store in her suitcase was calling. “I think I will call it a night.”
Nikki gave her a hug. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Amy was far from glad, but she didn’t want to upset her friend. So she just smiled and said good-night. On the way to the stairs she bypassed the great room to avoid the scene of a happy community, voices raised in laughter. She was a visitor here, no more.
As she entered her darkened bedroom, her thoughts flickered to Kendall and Rachel, and what they must be doing at this moment in the blonde’s room. She wasn’t jealous, really. She was glad that Kendall was occupied with someone else, that he had no delusions about them picking up where they’d left off.
She opened the closet door, leaned over to reach into a side pocket of her suitcase and pulled out a dark chocolate candy bar. Amy tore off the wrapper, then crammed the entire bar into her mouth.
No delusions at all.
Kendall stood at the door of Rachel’s room, reluctant to step inside.
“Come on in,” she invited with a smile. “I have a bottle of wine open.”
Kendall took in the bottle of wine and the single glass sitting on the low table in front of the television. He imagined Rachel sitting on the couch watching romantic-comedy movies and drinking wine alone, and he felt contrite. He hadn’t considered that the woman was probably lonely. Rachel was the talk among the workers, but as much as they enjoyed looking at the striking blonde, they were all intimidated by her.
“No, thank you,” he said with true remorse because he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. “I’ve had enough to drink for tonight.”
“We could watch television,” she suggested.
“Maybe another time.”
Rachel sauntered up to him, then walked her fingers up the buttons of his shirt. “You don’t have to be in such a hurry to leave.”
He shifted and the door slipped out of his hand, closing with a thud and sealing them inside…alone. Kendall’s pulse jumped, more out of nervousness than desire. “Actually, I have a long day tomorrow.”
“Oh, come on, you have a few minutes,” she cajoled, stepping closer. “After all, I can’t keep you too late. Men have to be out of here in forty-five minutes. But that’s enough time to do something fun.”
She smelled so good. Kendall’s mind raced for a graceful way to extricate himself. “I…I really need to get going.” He closed his hand around hers to pull it away from his collar.
She pouted. “Do you have time to at least hang my picture? You left your hammer here.” Then she bit into her lip. “That is, if your thumb doesn’t hurt too much.”
She turned his hand over in hers and traced her long, manicured fingers over his big bandaged thumb. Kendall couldn’t help but compare her pretty, feminine hands to Amy’s natural, neat nails, hands that were suited to the demands of a jobsite.
“It’s kind of late to be pounding nails,” he protested.
“Okay,” she said with a flirtatious smile, now leaning into him. “You can come back tomorrow.”
And go through this again? “I guess driving in one little nail wouldn’t make that much noise,” he said.
He sidestepped her and moved toward the dresser where he’d left his hammer earlier today. He understood forgetting about his laptop, but wow, he must’ve really been distracted to leave behind a favorite tool.
He lifted the framed photograph of Evermore Bridge and set his jaw against the memories that assailed him. With Amy’s face so fresh in his mind, it was impossible not to be affected when he looked at the place they’d once rendezvoused and had made their own.
At least in his mind. It was apparent by Amy’s detachment to the project that she didn’t share his fond recollections. He supposed the man who’d given her the pretty ring she’d worn at dinner had replaced all those memories with new ones.
Kendall steered his mind back to the matter at hand lest he smash another finger. They went through the harangue again about making sure the picture was in the right spot before he passed the picture to Rachel and held the nail up to the spot in the drywall he’d marked with his finger. Her perfume had enveloped him, and her seductive voice had set his nerves on edge. He quickly tapped in the slim nail of the picture hanger, then reached for the framed photo. He pulled out the slender wire and hung it carefully on the hook, then adjusted it until it was level, and stepped back to look at it.
“How’s that?”
“It looks great,” she gushed. “Thank you, Kendall.” Then before he knew what was happening, she raised on her tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth. And lingered.
Her lips were smooth and tasty—like plump cherries. And Lord, when had he last had a woman’s mouth on his? He gave in to the sheer pleasure of it. It was only a thank-you kiss, after all.
A loud crash interrupted the amiable exchange. Rachel gasped and gripped his arm in alarm. Kendall jerked his head around. The picture hanger had come out of the drywall, leaving an ugly gash and sending the framed photo crashing to the dresser with enough force to crack the glass. An ugly web of lines obscured the photo underneath.
“Oh, no!” Rachel cried, hurrying over to pick up the picture.
Kendall winced. “Sorry. Guess I should’ve looked for a stud to nail into. I’ll have it reframed, and I’ll fix your wall.”
She made a rueful noise. “You don’t have to do that.”
Guilt stabbed him. She could sense he didn’t want to be here. “I insist,” he said, taking the picture from her. “I’ll come back soon to patch your wall, and I’ll bring the photo when it’s ready to rehang.”
She dimpled. “Okay. If you insist.”
Kendall cleared his throat and gestured to his laptop bag sitting next to her bed, as if it wanted to be there. “I should be going.”
“Okay,” she said, her tone reluctant.
He was relieved to fill his hands with the bag, hammer and the framed picture. She opened the door and ushered him out with a fragrant breeze and a sexy smile. “See you soon?” she asked, looking at him through a fringe of lashes.
“Right,” he said, then nodded curtly and turned on his heel. He was in a flop sweat—the woman packed a powerful punch. At the top of the stairs landing, he stopped to put the belabored hammer in his computer bag, then looked down the opposite hallway. He’d pulled up the online directory Marcus maintained for the boardinghouse and knew Amy’s room was just a few steps away. She was probably still downstairs, he told himself as he made his way to her door, so she probably wouldn’t answer. He knocked, then waited. And if she did answer, he’d make up something about—
The door swung open and Amy stood there, still dressed in the clothes she’d worn to dinner, save for the strappy shoes, which were next to her bed where she’d kicked them off. His heart jumped to his throat. Her deep red hair had partially succumbed to the kinky waves he was more familiar with, but he knew she hated. She stood in stocking feet, her hazel eyes questioning. “Yes?”
His mind raced for an explanation as to why he was standing there. “I just wanted to…make sure you got settled in.”
“Yes,” she said simply, “I did.”
“And your room is comfortable?”
She looked him over and seemed to stiffen. “Yes, very.”
He swallowed. “Marcus told me about the conference call tomorrow afternoon with the Preservation Society. I was wondering if you’d like to get together before the call to get our ducks in a row.”
She gave him a flat smile. “I told Marcus I’d be there an hour beforehand. We can talk then.”
He shifted. “Do you have plans for the morning?”
“Yes, I’m going to survey the site.”
“What time?”
“Early,” she said vaguely. “But
you
don’t have to be there.”
At the slight, anger sparked in his stomach. “We’re working on this project together.”
“While I’m working on the design, I assumed you’d be getting a crew together. We’ll need someone who knows how to pour concrete in this weather, and a good mason if you have one. And I assume you have some talented welders and carpenters at your disposal.”
He nodded. “No problem.”
“Okay, then. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” She started to close the door.
Desperation emboldened him. He caught the door with his hand. “Baby—” He stopped, surprised that he had so easily fallen back into calling her his pet name. And he could tell from the look on her face that she didn’t appreciate the slip one little bit. “Sorry…Amy. I know things didn’t end well between us, but I’m hoping we can start fresh.”
She pursed her mouth and nodded. “I don’t see why we can’t be friends.”
He wanted to be more than just friends with Amy, but he acknowledged he had a long way to go to win back her affection. He was counting on the amazing chemistry they’d once shared to rekindle that affection. He leaned in and gave her a smile that had always softened her. “You have chocolate on your mouth.”
She angled her head. “And you have pink lipstick on yours. Good night, Kendall.”
He pulled back just in time to protect his nose from the slamming door. He swiped at his mouth, feeling like a fool, then frowned at the smear of bright pink on his hand. Now Amy was probably convinced he and Rachel were an item. He puffed out his cheeks in an exhale, then stared at her door. Did he dare knock again to correct her assumption?
Amy leaned against the closed door and closed her eyes. He’d called her “baby,” just like old times. Her heart pounded and her mind swirled with confusion. She’d hoped everything would be clear when she got to Sweetness and saw Kendall again, but it had only clouded things more. And instead of being glad he was involved with someone else, she was— Amy groaned in dismay—jealous.
She pushed away from the door and padded over to her phone to see if Tony had called, bitterly disappointed to see he hadn’t. Feeling a little desperate, she dialed his number again. While Tony’s phone rang, Amy opened her wallet to his picture and ran her finger over his handsome face for reassurance. After three rings, he picked up.
“Hello?”
“Hi, sweetie, it’s me,” she said, almost weak with relief to hear his voice. “Did you get my message earlier?”
He sighed. “No, I haven’t had time to check.”
“Oh. Well, I made it to Sweetness, Georgia, this afternoon, and my cell phone works here.”
“Duh. How long are you going to be in Hicksville?”
She tamped down irritation. “Like I told you, about three months. But I’ll come back in a couple of weeks so we can see each other.”
“They couldn’t get someone else to build their stupid bridge?”
She bit down on her tongue. “They could’ve, but they asked me.”
“Whatever,” he mumbled.
“I miss you,” she offered.
He grunted in return. “I hate this place.”
“It’s a good place,” she said earnestly. “You promised you’d give it a chance.”
“I gotta go.”
She pressed her lips together, awash in helplessness. “Okay. I love you, Tony.”
He sighed. “Love you, too, Mom.”
Amy disconnected the call, her heart pounding in her chest. She studied the picture of Tony, her twelve-year-old who had recently morphed from a sweet boy into a sulky adolescent. No matter what she did lately, it was wrong. She had never begrudged raising him alone, but recently she’d begun thinking it would be easier if he had a male father figure around.
Or his father.
And Tony looked so much like his father, she acknowledged with a squeeze of her heart. From his tall frame and square jaw…to his deep, cobalt blue eyes.
Kendall leaned against the door, wishing he’d walked away when he had the chance. Hearing Amy profess her love for someone else was like a kick to his gut. The guy who’d given her the topaz ring, no doubt.
It was his own fault, he acknowledged. He’d let Amy get away over a decade earlier, and had gone against his instincts to go to her. Of course another man had recognized how special she was and had wormed his way into her life.
Kendall turned and strode away, lasering unreasonable, but palpable, dislike toward this Tony, the guy who had replaced him in Amy’s heart.