Home to Stay (11 page)

“How can I help you today?” he asked, smile wide and hands clasped.

“We have an appointment,” Will said, gesturing toward Randy. “Well, he does. Randy Navarro. One o’clock for a tux fitting.”

The small man assessed Randy from head to toe, then back again. “The big guy. She was not kidding.”

Randy sighed behind her but stepped forward. “Yes, sir. I’m the big guy. I hope you can help us. This wedding is pretty important.”

The tailor looked to Will. “We’ll have him looking perfect for your big day. No worries.” Before she could correct his assumption, the man shuffled toward the back of the store, saying, “Follow me, please,” over his shoulder.

She looked at Randy, not sure whether he meant both of them, but then remembered the reason she was there—to make sure everything was right. Will couldn’t exactly do that by hanging out up front with the fancy mannequins.

“You heard him,” she said. “Let’s go get you a tux, big guy.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Randy replied, flashing his pearly whites, made brighter by the olive tone of his skin. The simple black T-shirt that stretched tight across his billboard-sized back hugged his biceps like sausage casings. The dark denim of his jeans rode low on his hips, showing off to full effect the perfect ass behind them.

Not that she was looking at his ass or anything.

Following the tailor through a doorway in the back corner of the store, Will felt as if she’d stepped into a private club. Every detail, from the burgundy drapes to the countless tie racks and stacks upon stacks of starched white shirts, said
manly domain
. To the left stood a wood-framed three-way mirror with a short, round wooden pedestal in front.

Their host snagged a long cloth tape measure that hung over the right third of the mirror. “I am Mr. Lee, and I will be handling your fitting today.” With a keen eye, he assessed Randy. “The pants will not be a problem, but we will have to bring in the waist quite a bit on any pair that will fit those thighs.”

Yes, Will thought, those were some formidable thighs.

“The shirt will be a different matter.” Mr. Lee pursed his lips. “We will make it work. Step into the dressing room on the right, please. I will hand in two pieces to start.”

Randy raised a brow in Will’s direction, then disappeared behind the curtain. She realized why Mr. Lee had picked this particular dressing room right away: it was taller than the others. A reminder Randy was well beyond average height. From what Will could surmise, Randy was well beyond average in every category.

Damn him.

Minutes after Mr. Lee had handed in the black pants and white shirt, Randy emerged, looking like a fancified Incredible Hulk. The shirt gaped open over his broad chest, clearly not able to close. The sleeves were too short, and Randy held the pants up with one hand.

Will covered her mouth to keep from laughing at his expense, but then those brown eyes turned her way, full of self-deprecating humor, and she let the mirth come through.

“You look like someone zapped you at a party and turned you into a giant. Only the zap didn’t work on your clothes.”

“The pants aren’t bad,” he said, looking down at his toes poking out from under the material. They were attractive toes. “But if this is the biggest shirt they offer, I’m in trouble.”

“Ah,” Mr. Lee exclaimed, appearing from behind another curtain at the end of the stalls. “As I thought. We have much work to do, but this is a good start.”

Twenty minutes later, Randy had been measured, poked, pinned, and, from Will’s vantage point, possibly felt up, but Mr. Lee looked pleased with his notes. He’d hemmed and hawed through the proceedings, the more stressed sounds accompanying the neck and chest measurements.

They’d probably have to build a new shirt out of a ship’s sail.

“We have you all set,” Mr. Lee said, gracing them with a confident smile. “Will take ten days, then you come back and we see how things fit.”

“The wedding is three weeks from today,” Will said. “Ten days should be no problem.”

Mr. Lee gave a thumbs-up. “We will have your man looking all dapper for your day. Leave it to us.”

“It’s not my day,” Will said, finally able to correct the presumption. “We’re both in the wedding, but it’s not our day.”

“Ah,” he said, placing a finger beside his nose. “Day will come for the two of you. I can tell these things.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he raised a hand to stop her. “You believe what you want, but I know. I am in the business.”

Will was so startled by the vehemence in Mr. Lee’s voice, she could do little more than stare in wild-eyed amazement. She didn’t know what business he thought he was in, but right now he needed to get out of hers.

CHAPTER 11

W
e are not having a day,” Will said as Randy turned the key in the ignition. “I want to make that clear right now.”

He buckled his seat belt. “No offense, Will, but I don’t remember proposing.”

“You didn’t have to. Your little tailor dude did it for you.”

This woman had serious issues to get this worked up at the mere mention of marriage. He hoped the topic alone was the problem, not the topic with him included.

“He’s an old guy trying to lock in more business. He’s harmless.” Randy put the truck in gear. “You really need to relax. No one will be twisting your arm to make you get married.”

Glancing over to his passenger, he saw the color drain from her face and kept his foot on the brake. “Will?”

She stared ahead, eyes unblinking, but her hands were gripped tight enough in her lap to turn her knuckles as white as her face. Randy slid the gearshift back into park and held silent. Will might be sitting beside him, but she was miles away in her mind. Whatever memory was washing over her was definitely not a happy one.

He could wait. See if she’d tell him where she went. After nearly a minute, she came back. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he said, softening his voice as much as he could. “Waiting.”

“For what?” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, her movements jerky and tense.

He laid both arms on top of the wheel. “For you to come back from wherever you’d gone.” Randy looked down, debating his next move. Pretending had never been his strong suit. “I don’t know what happened in your past, but considering what sent your mind racing back there, I have some guesses. Whoever hurt you is never going to do it again. Not as long as I’m around, okay?”

“I don’t need a protector,” she said, eyes focused on something in the distance.

“How about a friend?” he asked. That one seemed to get her attention because she finally turned to look at him. “I want to be your friend.”

Will snorted. “With benefits?”

He felt the sting of the accusation but held her gaze. “With or without. I’m here.”

As her shoulders dropped, she ran a hand through dark hair, shoving the mass of thick waves off her forehead. “I appreciate that, but there are ghosts from my past that would take more than muscle to defeat.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood. “I have a lot of muscle.”

Her laughter filled the truck cab, hitting him in the chest like a blow. “Yes, you do.” Crossing her arms over the purse in her lap, she turned his way again. “We never had lunch, and I’m starving. You want to eat?”

Feeling as if they’d made some kind of progress, he put the truck back in gear. “I could eat. How do you feel about Thai food?”

“I feel like it’s been way too long since I’ve had it.” Will gave him a weak smile, the ghost from her past still hovering in her eyes. “You know a Thai place around here?”

“I do. It’s back up the Banks a little, but worth the drive.”

“Then Thai it is,” she said with a nod.

The restaurant was mostly empty. Randy and Will opted for an outdoor table, as the temp had warmed up nicely and the patio was in the sun.

“What do you have in mind?” Randy asked, once the young waitress had taken their drink order and left them to peruse the menu.

Will kept her eyes on the list of offerings. “I’m thinking pork. These specials look good. Pepper ginger maybe. What about you?”

“I’ll stick with my usual,” Randy said. “Start with the Tao Hu Tod, then the vegetable Pad Thai.”

Her eyes tracked across the menu to find the descriptions of what he would order. She blinked, looked up to meet his eyes, then blinked again.

“What?” he asked.

“Tofu? You’re starting with tofu?”

Randy laughed. “I’m a vegetarian, Will. And tofu is good, especially the way they make it here.”

She dropped the menu to the table. “You’re a what?”

“You serve me green tea. Why would the fact I’m a vegetarian be a surprise?”

Will shook her head, started to speak, then closed her mouth. She finally pointed a finger his way. “Look at you. Doesn’t that take a lot of protein?”

Randy crossed his arms on the table, leaning forward. “There are lots of ways to get protein in your diet. Besides, I’m not some freak show exhibit. I work out. I’m healthy. That wasn’t always the case for the men in my family, and most of them died relatively young.” He shrugged. “I don’t intend to follow in their footsteps, so I go my own way.”

“How young is relatively young?” Will asked, eyes narrowed.

Not a topic he liked to discuss, Randy focused on the large vacation homes across the way, and the water beyond them. “Around forty. Some a little older, some a little younger.”

Will reached across the table, laying a hand across his forearm. “I’m sorry. I was aware that both your parents had died when Sid was pretty young, but didn’t know about the rest. Or think about the fact that you weren’t exactly an adult when they passed either.” She gave his arm a squeeze, and with a smile added, “That won’t happen to you. You’re too healthy. And stubborn.”

She sat back, sliding her hands below the table. “Besides, Sid would kick your ass for dying on her.”

That was probably true. The comment reminded him how close Will and Sid had become. “Speaking of my sister, how did it go getting her in a dress yesterday?”

“Oh, she fell in line real quick once she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The dress Beth picked out is gorgeous, but then Sid could make a burlap sack look sexy.”

“How about you?” he asked, curious to know what Will would be wearing when he had the pleasure of walking down the aisle with her on his arm. “Do you like the one for you?”

Will’s face went soft, as if he’d flashed her a picture of cute kittens or something. “It’s beautiful. Exactly what I’d have picked for myself.” Her eyes brightened. “And wait until you see Beth. As if she’s not glowing enough whenever Joe is in the room, she beams in that dress. I have to make sure this wedding is perfect. I’ll never forgive myself if something goes wrong.”

“Nothing will go wrong. We’ve got this.” Randy winked at her.

“Since when is this a
we
?” Will lifted the menu off the table. “I’m the one stuck with the bride’s planner. It’s
my
ass on the line.”

He pushed her menu down with one finger. “Have you always been this stubborn?”

“Excuse me?”

“The venue is
my
place, and was
my
idea. The groom is my best friend, and I’ve come to care about his bride as well. I’m offering to help make sure this wedding comes together the way it should, and you act like I’m asking for a kidney. Why is it so hard for you to accept some help?”

“I can accept help. When I need it and when I ask for it.” Blue eyes narrowed again, this time lacking their previous sympathy. “Maybe you’re the one who can’t stand to be told you’re not needed.”

Right. He was the problem here. This little meal was going downhill fast, but he wasn’t backing down on this one. She needed him, and he would make her realize exactly how much.

“Do you know the dimensions of the deck on Anchor Adventures?”

“No,” she said, the word clipped with impatience.

“Do you know what’s available on the deck, in regards to electricity, space, and lighting?”

“No,” she all but growled.

“But you’re prepared to finalize plans with the tent company, the disc jockey, and the caterer without that information?”

Will closed her menu and slammed it onto the appetizer plate in front of her. “You’ve made your point. I need information that
you
have to make this wedding happen.”

Information that he had. She couldn’t even say the words. “You’ll have to do better than that,” he pushed. “Try again.”

She looked ready to swallow her tongue, a rising temper evident through the flush of her cheeks. “Fine,” she growled. “I need you. Happy now?”

“Yep.” Randy sat back in his chair and motioned for the waitress. “Now, let’s eat.”

Such a pompous ass. What was his problem? Why did he have to push so much, work his way in like that? Will didn’t like being off balance, and that’s all Randy seemed to make her feel. Off line. Unsure. And worst of all, there were moments when he made her laugh.

Gorgeous and built and kind and pushy and funny and…Damn if she didn’t like him. Even when he poked to make her admit things she didn’t want to admit. So she couldn’t do everything on her own. That didn’t mean she couldn’t try. Having to admit, out loud, that she needed him to pull off this wedding left a bitter taste on her tongue.

Will didn’t make it the last three years by depending on people for help. Depending on the wrong person is what had screwed up her life to begin with. If she hadn’t leaned on Jeffrey in the wake of her mother’s death, Will would be back in Boston sitting in a corner office dealing with spreadsheets and profit-loss statements, not tending bar on a remote island, looking over her shoulder, prepared to cut and run without warning.

It was the cutting and running that freaked her out more than anything these days. Will had made the idiotic mistake of falling for Anchor Island. It felt like home. Her friends felt like family, much more than the people to whom she was blood related.
They
had been raised with money. Raised with the fancy name that wielded power and influence.

Will may have shared the name on paper, but that was the only thing she had in common with her biological family.

“I’ll leave the check here for you. No hurry; let me know when you’re ready.” The waitress dropped a slip of paper on Randy’s side of the table. “Can I get you a to-go box for that, ma’am?”

Will’s plate was still half full. After their brief spat, her appetite had disappeared. “No, I’m good, thanks.”

Randy finished the last bite of his Pad Thai, which he ate with chopsticks, of course, and wiped his mouth. “If this place were closer to home, I’d eat here every day.”

Closer to home. The phrase hit a nerve with Will. Would she ever be able to call someplace home again?

“The food was good,” Will admitted. “Thanks for suggesting it.”

Their argument had ended as quickly as it had begun, with Randy appearing to have some sort of instant amnesia about the whole thing. He didn’t have much of a temper and seemed to fizzle back to the happy-go-lucky guy in a matter of seconds.

He noticed her plate for the first time since the waitress had set the meals on the table. “You didn’t eat yours. You said you were starving.”

She glanced to her watch. “I guess I wasn’t as hungry as I thought. We need to get on the road. I told Tom I might be late, but at this rate he’ll be stuck with half the dinner shift before I get there.”

Will glanced over Randy’s shoulder and caught a redhead staring hard at their table. Did she know her? After a week of Rebecca going on and on about how familiar Will looked, she should have known better than to stay off the island for too long. The redhead said something to her friend, a tall man with arms covered in tattoos, then headed their way.

Will’s palms began to sweat and her heart rate went through the roof. There was nowhere to run. No way to jump the railing to their right without drawing attention or having Randy think she’d lost her mind. Will put a hand over the side of her face and turned her body as far away from the woman as possible without falling out of her chair.

A quick look over her shoulder revealed the woman had reached the table behind them and continued on. A roar filled Will’s ears. The moment of truth was about to find her in a Thai restaurant in the middle of the Outer Banks, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

“Randy? Randy Navarro?”

Will spun in her chair as Randy looked behind him. In seconds he was on his feet, wrapping the stranger in a giant bear hug and lifting her off the ground.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, planting the woman gently back on the patio. “I expected you to be on that Cancun trip this month.”

“I couldn’t go without my Randy.”

Her Randy? The roar continued in Will’s ears. Adrenaline left from the fear mixed with a flash of jealousy to create an ego-splitting cocktail in her bloodstream.

“I had to take this year off,” Randy said, keeping the woman pulled tight against him. Stepping to the side, he said, “Kayla Fontana, this is my friend Will Parsons. She lives on Anchor with me.”

That needed an immediate correction. “I don’t live with him,” Will said, struggling to keep her voice level. “We both live on the island.” Her hands were shaking, so she kept them hidden beneath the table.

It was Randy’s turn to blush. “Right. No. That’s what I meant.”

Kayla laid a hand on his cheek. “You’re cute when you’re making an ass of yourself.” She turned to Will, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you. Hope this big lug is treating you right. He’s a great catch if you can pin him down. God knows enough of us have tried.”

Enough of us
? What the hell? Did he have a harem they knew nothing about on Anchor?

“No pinning down going on here,” Will said, taking Kayla’s hand for a brief shake. “We’re in the same wedding. I’m friends with the bride, he’s friends with the groom.”