Back To Us (Shore Secrets 3) (11 page)

“I’ve got a ton of stuff in the car.” Gray dug his keys out of his pants pockets. “Joel sent along a big spread to make up for bailing on us. Seven layer dip, all the makings for fajitas, and Mexican chocolate cookies.”

Ward hefted a stack of file folders. They’d need more room to spread out everything Gray listed. “His guilt is our gain.”

Zane opened a cabinet. Scratched his head at the double line of basic wineglasses Ward had stocked it with. He’d only furnished the small apartment with the basics, but in the Finger Lakes, wineglasses
were
the basics. Guess the absentminded professor was still learning his way around the place after only being moved in for a few weeks. Zane opened another, and grunted when he found plates. “Are you making Joel work tonight? I thought he had Mondays off?”

“He does.” Gray smirked, hand on the doorknob. “He’s off—with Dawn.”

Zane juggled a stack of plates in one hand and three frosted beer mugs in the other on his way back into the living room. “But didn’t they just go out last night? With you and Piper?”

Ward nodded.

“Did you ruin their first date?”

With a flash, Ward was back in the room behind the pins. Remembering the taste of Piper on his lips, the feel of her beneath his hands. They’d been in there for a while. A long while. But Dawn and Joel hadn’t even seemed to notice their absence. Heck, those two had been so wrapped up in each other they wouldn’t have noticed if he’d thrown a potbellied pig down the lane instead of a bowling ball. “No. Why’s this automatically my fault?”

“You and Piper are volatile. Like rocket fuel and a blowtorch. Thought maybe things heated up last night.”

“No comment on that angle. It was a double date. We bowled. We went out for chili cheese fries and burgers after. Zero pressure.” Now that he thought about it, it had kind of been a throwback to the double dates they did in high school. “It was a by-the-book night. I followed your suggestions to the letter.”

Another smirk from Gray. “How’d that work out? Using Zane as a dating coach?”

“Zane only coached on the date activity. The rest was all me. Flying by the seat of my pants.”

“Did they stay on?”

Another five minutes in the pinsetting room and
something
would’ve come off, that was for damn sure. “I said, no comment.”

“That’s a no to any action, then. So if your double date was all wholesome good times, why’d Joel need a redo so fast?” Zane’s joking tone dropped away. “There isn’t a new problem with the missing money, is there? Did the police call with news?”

Back in the spring, the city manager and treasurer had emptied the town bank account and disappeared. It took the police a few months, but they’d cleared Dawn completely of any possible charges. Three different law enforcement groups were on their trail, and had been getting closer the past few weeks. The whole town wanted the money found, but Ward and his friends especially wanted this Chapter closed, for Dawn’s sake. “You and Casey would hear before the rest of us, if that was the case.”

Gray rolled his eyes. “You guys are overlooking the obvious. Joel waited years to ask out the woman of his dreams. Guess they both want to make up for lost time.”

A knock sounded on the door right as Gray jerked it open to go retrieve the food. Hand still upraised, a tall man about ten years too old to be wearing the Seneca Lake High letterman jacket smiled at them. “Hi. I’m looking for Ward Cantrell?”

So this guy had either missed or already checked at both the distillery and the house. Either way, Ward didn’t want to talk to him. “Not a good time. You can make an appointment for later this week at the long white building, about two hundred feet up the driveway.”

“This can’t wait.”

“Neither can this bachelor party we’re planning.” Zane was pleasant to everyone. Not just because he was a nice guy, but more so because he was so flipping curious about every last person and thing that crossed his path. So his brushoff of the stranger was a surprise. Totally warranted. They’d all agreed to hunker down tonight to the all-important business of deciding how to help Gray kick the single life in style. Still, surprising.

After a squinty-eyed pan of the room, the man settled his gaze on Ward. “You’re him, aren’t you? I recognize you from the pictures in the trophy case at school.”

Great. Another stuck-in-the-good-old-glory-days freak. “Yeah. I’m Cantrell. Come back tomorrow. Or not. Your choice.”

“Sorry. I jumped ahead and didn’t even introduce myself.”

Of course not. Because he was still standing outside, clearly not invited in or to swap names.

“I’m Sebastian Fowler. Athletic director over at Seneca Lake High.”

Ward still didn’t care what he had to say. But anyone who devoted their life to dealing with ungrateful kids for low pay deserved at least his respect. With a sigh, he crooked his arm in welcome. “Come on in.”

“Thanks. It’s great to meet a living legend.”

Good thing they hadn’t gotten to drinking yet, or Ward would’ve done a spit take. “Is that what they’re calling me now?”

“The school’s stat books say it all. You did it all.” Starting with his thumb, Coach Fowler ticked them off on his hand. “Football, basketball, track, and lettered in all three.”

Those letters and a fiver still wouldn’t be enough to buy him a cup of coffee in Manhattan. “Yeah, well, I learned to put on mascara all by myself for the school musicals, too. Just call me a jack-of-all-trades.”

“Ha. Good sense of humor to top off a well-rounded student who built a successful business from the ground up. You’re everything I hoped for, Ward.”

“Don’t get your hopes up too high. He’s already taken.” Gray hooted and elbowed Zane in the ribs to laugh with him.

“Oh. Well. No, I didn’t mean...” His voice trailed off in confusion.

Ward jerked a thumb at his friends and frowned. “Ignore those idiots. What brings you nosing around at six thirty on a Monday night?”

“Am I barging in too late? We just finished practice. I rushed right over.”

How was this soft-spoken man the coach of the football team? “Not late. But we’re about to get deep into debating strippers and Atlantic City versus cigar bars and Manhattan. Unless you’ve got something to sway the decision, you’d better hurry this up.”

“I want you to come to Homecoming.”

Zane patted him on the shoulder with a shit-eating grin. “Aww, and you thought no one would ask you to the dance this decade.”

“Idiots.” Ward shrugged him off with a roll of his eyes.

Sebastian thrust his hands into the pockets of the blue-and-white letterman jacket. “It’s the ten-year anniversary of your record-breaking streak of wins. Our team hasn’t been, well, performing up to the same standards.”

“Your team’s been in last place for two seasons. It’s why they sacked Coach Mackelroy and brought you on board last month,” Ward said bluntly.

“The boys are beaten down. They don’t believe in themselves anymore. I want to have a pep rally ceremony to remind them that it is possible for SLHS to win. To not just win, but dominate.”

“And you think bringing me back will do that? You’re off your rocker, Coach Fowler.” It wouldn’t be a ceremony. It would probably turn out a lot more like a public stoning. Because the small-minded people who still lived and died by their four years of high school glory? Those were just about the only people in town who still hated Ward. And they were the first ones who’d fill the bleachers at Homecoming.

With a determined smile on his All-American face, Sebastian said, “I think you’re exactly the type of small-town-boy-makes-good story they need to see.”

Fat freaking chance. “You’re new to town, right? So you don’t know that there’s just as many folks here who want to scratch my name off every trophy in that case of yours as would clap for me. A couple significant ones who’d want to yank their booster dollars clean out of your program if you did anything close to honoring me.”

It didn’t hurt Ward to lay it out the way it was. Not much, anyway. He lived the facts. Whenever he sat in the barber chair and ignored the muttered comments. Every time—seven in all—his application to join the chamber of commerce was denied.

What helped balance those stings were counterpoint gestures from decent people. The ones who let him sponsor the flag football team. All the local restaurants that stocked his product. And yes, the ones who helped him keep his business afloat with their volunteer labor. He knew the tide of public approval had shifted more in his favor over the past three years. Still, when the movers and shakers in town looked at you like the stuff they scraped off the bottoms of their shoes, it was just common sense not to go seeking attention from them.

“You won’t be standing up there alone. I’m bringing in other school heroes.”

“I’d be the last person to label myself a hero.”

“You are to these kids. I’m telling you, Ward, they look up to you. Stories of what you did in our program still run through all the teams. You were great. And you used that greatness to get out, which is what a lot of my kids want to do.”

“And then I blew it.” Might as well hammer that home to the coach. Since that was the only thing that mattered to those thickheads who still held a grudge against him.

“You sure did. Blew it all to hell and back,” Sebastian agreed with that same good-natured grin still stapled to his face. “But you didn’t give up. Even with your scholarship yanked, you found a way to stay in school and make something of yourself.”

Maybe he could see Fowler as the football coach after all. The man had a persistent streak longer than Seneca Lake. “You really did your homework on me.”

“All it took was keeping my ears open while I got a haircut.” Fowler ran a hand over his head. “Simon raved about you.”

Simon was...enthusiastic, to say the least. Flamingly enthusiastic. And a huge fan of Lakeside’s cherry liqueur. “Simon raves about everything and everyone.”

Gray chuckled. “Last week it was the new gel insoles he was rocking. Specifically, that they now come in neon orange. It made his day.”

“So I’m at least as awesome as insoles.” Ward pumped his fist in the air. Sarcastically, of course. “High praise. Clearly I deserve a statue.”

Sebastian planted his feet wide, as if bracing for more of Ward’s rejection. “You’re an inspiration. You may not see it, but I do. Others do.”

“And some others don’t,” Ward said flatly.

“It’ll be fun. Simon told me that your three best friends were cheerleaders? I thought I’d ask them to put on their old uniforms and back you up.”

Huh. The thought of seeing Piper in that sweater and short skirt again was almost enough to convince him.

“Casey, Ella and Piper dressed up as cheerleaders? Oh, that changes everything.” Zane dropped to his knees and begged like a puppy dog. “Come on, Ward, you have to do this. For us.”

“Live out your sexual fantasies with your girl in the bedroom, Professor. You don’t need my help.”

Gray crossed from the door to get right in Ward’s face. “Why let the haters win?”

“You sound like the latest pop chart-topper. All you’re missing are jeans halfway down your ass and half a bottle of mousse in your hair.”

Hand raised, Gray continued, “I’m serious. Everything Coach Fowler said is true. Why not let the people who see you as awesome—present company included—stand up and give you a round of applause? Sure, there are closed-minded jackasses who still look down on you. But why let them keep you from the accolades you deserve?”

“Unless you don’t think you deserve them?” Zane asked quietly.

Damn the professor and his insightfulness. Ward paced from the breakfast bar down to the potbellied stove he’d manhandled in. “I made the best of a bad situation. A couple of times over. So do lots of people. I’m nothing special.”

“Don’t you see?” Coach Fowler clapped him on the shoulder. “That attitude is exactly what makes you special. I don’t care if you do it because it’s a metaphorical pie in the face to your detractors, or because your being there might actually help us win Homecoming for the first time in four years. Just say you’ll come. For the kids. For revenge. Just come.”

With all three of them ganging up on him, Ward couldn’t figure out a way to say no. Although he’d probably come up with one at two in the morning. “Okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you if things go badly.”

Sebastian grabbed his hand and pumped it vigorously. “Thanks. I’ll be in touch with details. Oh, and now that you’ve said yes, I’ll tell you that my brother manages one of the top steak houses in Manhattan. I’d be happy to hook you guys up. He’d pull out all the stops.”

“See? Worst-case scenario, you’re taking one for the sake of my bachelor party. This’ll totally be worth it.” Gray shook Fowler’s hand. “Thanks, man. You just made our planning a whole lot easier. I’ll walk you out.”

Zane moved his laptop off the red microsuede couch as they left. “I like a good steak. Have crazy love for the scalloped potatoes that they always do with them. But I still say just seeing our women in cheerleader outfits is worth it.”

“Glad to know my inevitable humiliation is for a worthy cause.” Ward still didn’t think this was a good idea. But he did whip out his phone. If nothing else, it gave him a reason to text Piper, something he’d been itching to do all afternoon. Something that wasn’t as lame as
I
had a great time with you last night
or
how long until I can kiss you again.
The two of them going back to high school? Now that was a good excuse.

Chapter Eight

Piper checked her watch as she finished lighting the last cluster of fat white candles on the mantel. She’d already done the trio in hurricane globes on the squat grey box that served as a coffee table, the tall tapers on both end tables, and the sconces on the hallway. She’d nearly burned her fingers twice as she went through half a book of matches. Totally worth it, as they gave the room a warm glow. Didn’t matter if it was just Ella and Casey coming over for a wedding planning summit or the entire Seneca Lake Winery Association—her house always had to be magazine-spread perfect. Impressions mattered. Standards had to be upheld. Most of all, Piper needed it to look right for her own peace of mind.

Just as she’d planned, the knock sounded on her front door a moment later. Without waiting for her, Ella and Casey tumbled through the doorway. “I have news,” Ella squealed as she kicked the door shut behind her.

“I have news,” Piper countered. And she stood, with arms crossed and a pointed glare, until Casey unlaced her hiking boots and left them in the tiled foyer.

In sock feet, Casey padded across the thin strips of white oak on the floor. She threw herself onto the pale grey chaise with a dramatic flail of her arm. “I have nothing more than a growling stomach. Actual hunger pangs. When’s the food getting here?”

“Soon.” Piper watched Ella dump a bag full of bridal magazines on the floor, then a three-ring binder, her purse, two long boxes tied with white ribbon, and her coat. “Moving in?” she teased.

Her friend shook back her long brown hair and shot her an unabashedly shameless grin. “Planning a wedding requires lots of reference material. I’ve got another bag of magazines out in the car.”

“You know, May is a long way away still. You don’t have to decide everything tonight.”

“I know, but we can at least
talk
about everything, right?”

Ella looked so hopeful and excited that Piper couldn’t help but laugh. “Absolutely.” Arm in arm, they walked into the living room. “Do you want to wait for the Chinese delivery to come, or start with wine now?”

They both stared at her as if she’d asked them to choose between getting a root canal or having an orgasm. “You
own
a winery,” Casey said in a pointed and pained tone. “Ella
owns
a winery. Wine is like water in this neck of the woods. Why on earth would we want to wait for the food?”

“So it’s been that much of a Monday for you, has it?” Piper plucked the silver ice bucket and three glasses off the sideboard.

“I had to work—and Mondays are usually my day off. So I was in a foul mood from the get-go. Then everything went wrong. The copier jammed, I had to change the printer toner, I sat through an online training that had my eyes crossing...”

Before Casey could launch into part two of her crappy-day complaints, Piper jammed a glass of Riesling in her hand. “Oh, I see. You were stuck in the office and couldn’t go out in the forest at all.
That’s
why you’re cranky.”

“Yes, damn it. I’m a forest ranger, not a desk ranger.”

Perfect segue straight into the good news Piper was bursting to tell. “Since we’re talking about our jobs, I’m saying again, louder and with more fanfare—” she twirled her hands in the air like a magician’s assistant revealing a rabbit to the audience “—I have news!”

“Oh, but—” Ella bit her lip and looked back and forth between them “—so do I.”

“Ella, we’re going to stay up till midnight talking about every single aspect of your wedding, right? From the place cards to the playlist to what your something borrowed will be?”

“Yes,” she said on a blissful sigh.

“If you get the whole rest of the night, Piper gets to go first.” Casey pointed at Piper with her glass. “Take the spotlight and run with it.”

“Okay.” She sat on the sofa next to Ella. “Here goes.” Too excited to sit, Piper popped back up like a cork out of Morrissey Vineyards’ finest sparkling wine. “
WWLL
magazine is coming here. This week. To do a spotlight on me.”

Casey held up her hands in a time-out gesture. “Congrats. Obviously. But...I’m going to need a little more detail, so I know just how hard to clap and how high to jump. What’s
WWLL
?”

“Oh. Sorry.” Piper took a sip of her wine.

Ella took over the explanation as she stood to enthusiastically throw both arms around Piper’s waist. “Everyone uses the acronym because the name is, well, long and pretentious. It stands for
Winning Wines and Laudable Liquors.
”

“Pretentious, indeed. But since you work at a winery, I’m guessing this is a super-big score for you?”

“Yes.” Piper flung her arms wide. Carefully, though, so as not to risk spilling her wine. “Huge. They only do a spotlight once a quarter. The reporter said that she was taken by my not just resting on the family name, but really striving—and succeeding!—to make our tasting room stand out in the crowded field of Finger Lakes wineries.” Pleasure flushed through her. “National recognition like this is all kinds of validation. Plus, it gives me the chance to tease my port line.”

With hands still upraised and ready to clap, Casey jolted upright. “You mean the one that doesn’t exist yet? And won’t for, um, how many years?”

Piper had already worked it out down to the day. “Ward’s timing couldn’t have worked out better. I’ll have access to plant on his land in late fall, which is perfect. Two years before the grapevines are ready for harvest. Then another two after that to age into ruby port, just to get started, while I keep aging the tawny.”

Casey’s hands fell to the cushions. She shook her head, bug-eyed. “So you’re starting to advertise a minimum of four years ahead of time? Piper, I love you, and I adore Morrissey Vineyards’ wines, but for God’s sake, I can’t remember when a new album is dropping in four weeks. You really expect people to get excited and stay that way for four long years?”

Annoyed that Casey was poking at her news instead of praising it, Piper snapped, “I said I’d start teasing it, not hire a skywriter to advertise every weekend. Hype takes a long time to build. I’m planting a seed with this article, just like I’ll plant the vines.”

“It’s because it’s for your Grandpa Will, isn’t it?” Ella gently tugged her back down to the sofa. Shifted an arm up around her shoulders. “That’s why you’re going all-out. Not for the vineyard. Not to please your father. Not even for your own satisfaction or reputation. It’s for him.”

Piper nodded. That was all she could do, as her throat was suddenly thick and she swallowed back a rising flood of tears.

“Oh.” Casey rushed over to sit on her other side. “Piper, I’m sorry. I’m excited for you. Honest. I’ll even help you pick out a skywriter if you want. As long as it’s okay to choose the hottest one.”

A weak laugh made its way through her clogged throat. “Isn’t that how you choose everyone in your life?”

“Worked for scoring myself a smoking-hot fiancé, so I’ll go with yes.”

Piper should’ve known that her friends would see straight through to her heart. And know how to lighten it without even trying. “It
is
about Grandpa Will. I’d given up. Truly. Thought I’d have to renege on the deathbed promise I made him. Or, if not renege, then put it off until my dad retired from our winery, which could be another ten or fifteen years. That just gutted me.”

“But then Ward came along with his offer.” Ella moved her hand in a reassuring circle on Piper’s arm. “He magically turned your promise into a reality. And now you’re reaching for the stars not just to make it happen, but to make it happen big.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“It’s a lot, isn’t it? Like the mounds of homework Mrs. Garcia used to heap on us in eighth-grade history.”

“It is homework.” Piper took a sip of her wine to clear her throat. Wouldn’t that be a great marketing strategy—
Drink Your Tears Away!
“Emotional homework. Letting go of any residual anger toward Ward. Trying to let go of the hurt, rather than just ignoring it. Turning all of it into gratitude for this enormous gift he’s given me to honor my grandfather.”

Casey crinkled her nose. “That’s like homework
and
a term paper.”

“I didn’t mention the extra credit.” She’d tell them because they were always brutally honest with each other, no matter how difficult the telling might be. Antsy now, Piper stood to pace to the fireplace. Touched the candle holder, the tall glass vase of pussy willows. “I’m falling for Ward.”

“That’s not news.” Casey snorted. “You already told us that you’ve been in love with him for years.”

The funny thing was that this rush of feelings
was
entirely new. A new appreciation for the man, not the boy or the friend. “I’m falling for him all over again. Our date last night was...utterly ordinary, and incredibly wonderful. He opened up about the man who helped him through college.”

“Skip? In Kentucky?”

Piper traced the silver frame that held a photo of the four of them from a New Year’s Eve party, dressed to the nines in black and white. As usual, Ward was on one end, and she was at the other. “Yes. But he didn’t just open up about Skip. Ward opened up a window to his resiliency and stubborn grit. He’s got them in levels that absolutely floor me. Just like how he came back here, head held high, made a round of heartfelt apologies to anyone who would listen, and then moved on with his life. He ignored the jerks and found ways around, over or through every obstacle they tossed in his path.”

Ella somehow combined a laugh, a sigh and a scrunched-up face like she’d swallowed a whole bag of Sour Patch Kids candy. “That’s our Ward. No matter how difficult, questionable or flat-out stupid, he’s never one to back down from a challenge or an opportunity.”

“But he did.” Piper whirled around to catch the full spread of mystification that would slide onto her friends’ faces at her declaration. “He refused to kiss me.”

As expected, Casey’s eyelids went into a set of furiously fast blinks. Ella’s jaw dropped. “Like I said—flat-out stupid.”

“He practically stood on his head to avoid it...to make sure I knew that he didn’t expect sex as part of this month of dating.”

Ella lolled back on the couch and clasped her hands over her heart. “Ohhhhh. That’s lovely.”

“He’s so damn decent straight through to his core.” Piper sank onto the chaise. Because even if it was only in her head, thinking about Ward made her knees a little bit weak. “I can’t even pretend to be going slowly. My feelings for Ward, my attraction, is like an avalanche that suddenly poofed into existence out of a clear blue summer sky and completely buried me. I can’t fight it. I can’t deny it.”

“All of that from one date, huh?” Casey cradled her wineglass and tapped both forefingers against the sides. “Pretty impressive. I, for one, can’t wait to see what happens next.”

“Me too,” Piper admitted. “Especially since the whole protecting-my-heart thing is out now.”

“Does he know? That he’s got you wrapped around his heart again?”

“No. I don’t think so. It’s not like I asked him to dig up his letterman jacket so I could wear it or anything.” Piper’s phone buzzed. She plucked it off the coffee table. “This is weird.”

“What? Please,
please
don’t tell me it’s the takeout saying they’ll be late.” Casey rolled into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest. “My stomach’s going to start munching on itself for an appetizer soon.”

“It’s a text from Ward.” She could barely spit it out through her confused giggles. “‘Go pull out your old SLHS cheer uniform. Tell the others. You’re all going to Homecoming.’”

“First of all, it’s like he heard you mention his letterman jacket. Super freaky. And secondly, it’s Homecoming, not Halloween. Why does he think we’d dress up?”

Ella dismissed the bizarre text with a wave of her hand through the air. “I don’t know. But we are going to dress up now. I brought presents.”

The only thing better than shopping was when new clothes appeared unannounced in your own home. Piper sat straight up at the prospect. “Clothes?”

“Yes.” Ella scurried out of the room to grab the two long white boxes. She handed one to each woman. “You were right, Piper. We’re not deciding everything about my wedding tonight...because I’ve already made two big decisions. Both of which you’ll see as soon as you open those.”

Giggling, scrabbling at the ribbon, Piper and Casey both yanked off the top simultaneously. Inside were hoodies and yoga pants in pale aqua. Casey lifted hers up. “What is this? The dress code for the wedding’s been downgraded to post-workout clothes? Which I’d be fine with, by the way, except for the fact that I know how yummy Zane looks in a suit and I really want another opportunity to ogle him in one.”

“No, silly. You’re looking at the wedding color. Chosen, in part, because it looks so good against your blond hair and Piper’s red. Go on, flip them around,” she urged.

Across the back, like the team name on a jersey, script on both read
Maid of Honor
. Piper looked at hers, then over at Casey’s. “Did the printing place screw up?”

“Are you kidding? I’m not demoting one of you to bridesmaid.” Ella reached over to grab their hands. “I’m making you both a maid of honor, because you’ve held me up equally through, well, everything. I’m so honored by your friendship and support. And since my parents are gone, I thought we’d do the processional a little differently. I’m hoping you’ll both walk me down the aisle.”

They fell into a pile of arms and legs, sniffling and giggling and drenching each other in happy tears. Piper blinked her eyes clear, because she wanted to imprint this moment on her brain like a photograph. Ella’s hair falling in her mouth as she laughed, Casey’s blue eyes so bright with joy. It was sheer happiness, come to life. Piper wanted to call Ward and share it with him too.

“I’m putting it on right now.”

“Casey, wait,” Piper hissed. “The blinds are open. What if the delivery guy sees? What would he think?”

“That he got an even better tip than he expected.” She unbuttoned her green uniform shirt as Piper dove to wrench shut the dove-grey silk panels covering the windows.

Ella yanked Piper’s jersey top right off, then thrust the hoodie at her with a look that was way more order than request. “My original idea was to include Ward on my side too. But Gray fought me for him. It was a brutal tickle fight, and I lost. So Gray’s going to ask him to be best man, which will technically count for the bride and groom’s side.”