Man of the Month (Willowdale Romance Novel) (14 page)

BRAD WAS WAXING his truck Saturday morning, wondering when Jeanne was going to wake up and how much fun she’d had the night before. She sure had looked dynamite, and she hadn’t come home early, so that was saying something. Then she sauntered outside in low riding jeans and a short top that revealed a flash of skin. Damn. He almost dropped his rag. He’d meant to kiss that sexy belly button thoroughly the other night, but he’d been busy with other things. Now, he’d never have another chance.

“So? How’d it go?”

She shrugged. “Nice guy, but no sparks.”

“Then we’ll look ahead to June. I promised you a great guy, and I’m going to find you one.”

“Super. Can’t wait. Until then, a bunch of us are going out tonight.”

She tucked her hands in the pockets of her worn jeans and smiled, rocking back on her bare feet. He’d meant to kiss those toes of hers, too. Too late now.

“I don’t know.”

“It’ll be fun,” she said. “Tonya and Kate and some other gals are coming. Please say yes.”

He let out the breath he’d been holding. “Sure.”

At least with witnesses, he could keep his hands off her. Because his brain had forgotten to pass on the message to his hormones that he and Jeanne were just going to be friends.

HE WALKED into the bar, and his gaze immediately fell on her, laughing over a joke with her friends. He sucked in a breath and slapped on a smile and walked up to the group. “Looks like I missed a good one.”

He thought he saw a look pass between Tonya and Kate, but couldn’t be sure.

“I was recounting my bad set ups,” Jeanne said. “Lily here is new in town and hasn’t heard the horror stories yet.”

He looked over at the petite, raven-haired girl in a tight tank top and even tighter jeans. She certainly had the body to fill them out. But standing there next to Jeanne and her long, lean, graceful figure? Hell, a contingent of
Playboy
models probably couldn’t distract him. But he stuck out his hand anyway and smiled.

“Hi Lily, I’m Brad.”

Another look between Tonya and Kate. He was sure of it. Did Jeanne just flash her eyes at them, too, he wondered?

Lily turned her big amber eyes up at him and smiled. “Hi, Brad. My, you sure are a tall drink of water.” She giggled a flirty little laugh and covered her mouth. “Gosh, you can tell I’ve been living with my grandma. That’s something she’d say.”

“Brad’s six-foot-four,” Jeanne said, looking at him and then snapping her gaze away.

“That’s a whole lot of good-looking man.” Lily quirked an eyebrow as she stared at him. “Maybe I should’ve gotten myself to Willowdale a lot sooner than this.”

Brad tried not to laugh. She was laying it on thicker than his beef gravy.

“Lily’s working at my salon. Doesn’t she have the prettiest eyes?” Tonya asked.

“She sure does,” Brad said, forcing another smile. “What color are they?”

Lily laughed, kicking back one foot. “What color would you say they are? Three guys at a bar once got in a fight trying to decide. I think the guy who guessed cognac won.” She shrugged.

Everyone was quiet until Brad said, “Wow. Well, I’d say cognac is a good guess.”

“I need a refill,” Jeanne said, heading for the bar.

“Yeah, me too,” said Kate, and Tonya followed.

Damn. He hadn’t seen this coming. He was being set up. Jeanne was trying to shake him off. She’d been serious about moving on.

He smiled at Lily, who was still beaming at him, rubbing her finger along the rim of her wine glass. At least she was cute. Very cute.

He propped his arm up along the wooden fence that lined the room, like a corral. Part of the hokey Western theme. “So, how come I’ve never met you before, Lily?”

“Just moved to town. I work with Tonya, and I guess she felt sorry for me, being single and new here. So she dragged me out tonight.” She looked him up and down. “I’m glad she did.”

Any other guy would have been doing a mental high five. But not him. However, having a girlfriend—even something casual—might make things easier between him and Jeanne. He sighed and gave in to the inevitable. “Can I get you a drink?”

She clasped her hands in front of her and grinned up at him. “That would be great.”

TRYING NOT TO cry in a bar is really hard
, Jeanne thought, unable to keep her eyes off Brad and Lily. It was like watching a car crash. She couldn’t look away. Felt just as bad, too.

Tonya nudged her with her elbow. “You okay?”

Jeanne nodded then shook her head and shrugged. “It’s for the best.”

Kate put her arm around her and squeezed.

“I’ll be okay, guys. I’ve hit bottom, but I’m still standing.” Maybe if she kept telling herself that, she’d believe it.

“Jeanne, there you are!” Her sister Becca pushed through the crowd with her boyfriend in tow.

“Hey, Becca.”
This is interesting
, Jeanne thought. She and Rick hardly ever got out.
Good for them.

Becca held up her left hand, wiggled her fingers to show off her sparkly new ring, and squealed. “Rick proposed, and I just had to find you and tell you.” She wrapped her arms around Jeanne and squeezed the breath out of her.

“Shut your mouth! I can’t believe it!” Jeanne closed her eyes and squeezed back. “I’m so happy for you!”

And she was. Someone should have a happy ending, and her little sister certainly deserved it. She opened her eyes and spotted Brad across the bar watching her. A shiver shot through her as his gaze sucked her in. She looked away and examined Becca’s ring.

“It’s gorgeous. When are you going to get married?” Jeanne asked, doing her best not to imagine her and Brad starring in this very same scenario.

Becca clasped her hands under her chin. “In August. And we want you and Brad to cater it.” She bounced in place, smiling.

“Wow, that’s just three months away.”

“I know. There’s a lot of work to do, but we can pull it off.” She wrapped her arms around Jeanne in a death grip. Then Becca waved Brad over.

He walked their way, Lily on his heels. She’d already dug in her talons and didn’t look like she was gonna let go.
Can’t blame her.
Jeanne gritted her teeth, even though this was what she’d been rooting for just moments before. Self-inflicted schizophrenia, that’s what this was.

“Hey Becca, what’s going on?” Brad asked.

She flashed him her ring.

“Damn girl, that’s great. Congratulations!” He hugged her and shook Rick’s hand.

“You two have to cater the wedding. It’s this August.” Becca didn’t seem to notice the new 36 DD accessory attached to his side.

Brad looked at Jeanne then back at Becca. “Of course we will. We can have it right in our banquet room. It’ll be the bash of the summer, I promise.”

She hugged him again and then hugged Jeanne, and Jeanne couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten so many hugs in one night.

“Oh, if only you two could be next
 . . .
” Becca’s eyes widened, and she covered her mouth. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m going to get some champagne.” Then she skipped off to the bar.

Lily’s glance darted between Jeanne and Brad, and she wrapped her hand around his bicep. “Brad and I are going out tomorrow.”

Brad’s eyebrows arched, and he looked down at her. “We are?”

“Yes. I just decided.”

She giggled, although it sounded more like a cackle to Jeanne, even though the girl seemed sweet as pie.
Yeah, rhubarb pie without any sugar
 . . .

Brad caught Jeanne’s eye again, but she snapped her head away. So many looks were darting and zooming around the room like frightened swallows caught in a barn.

Brad paused before he said, “Sure, why not? Let’s go out. It’ll be fun.”

Jeanne tried to take a deep breath, but the air wouldn’t fill her lungs. So this was it. It was happening. He was moving on from her.

Exactly like you said you wanted, fool!

Jeanne blinked and tried to make her lips move into a smile. She had no idea if she’d pulled it off.

“That’s great news.” She motioned over her shoulder. “I’m going to go. I’ve got
 . . .
” She swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “I’ve got to go buy Becca
 . . .
a wedding magazine or something. A congratulations card.” She pushed past the throng around her, trying not to run, praying her wobbly knees wouldn’t give out on her—or the cheap heels she’d bought in Whitesville. Never could resist a sale.

She turned and looked back. Tonya and Kate were heading toward her. She shook her head, and they stopped. She wanted to be alone. No one could soothe this hurt. She was going to have to work through it herself. If that was even possible.

She drove straight home and flopped on her bed without changing out of her clothes. She pulled the sheets around her and remembered Brad and her wrapped up in them just a week ago. That brought a fresh round of tears.
Will he even make it home tonight?
She didn’t know which would be worse, having to face him, or knowing he was with another woman.

“Hopefully he has condoms,” she shouted to the ceiling.

Then she remembered the scars marking his back and cried some more. She knew where Brad was coming from—and where he didn’t want to go. She sat up and pressed her hands against her eyes and thought she might be sick. She took a few deep breaths. She stripped off her clothes, put on her pajamas, and climbed back into bed.

When Brad came home a few hours later and stopped by her open door, she pretended to be asleep. And pretended her heart wasn’t splintering to shards, like a great big vase that could never be put back together again.

SHE SPENT the next two weeks avoiding Brad as best she could, scooping up bridal magazines and recipe ideas, hoping to distract herself with Becca’s wedding. Brad had been out with Lily a few times, but she hadn’t asked for details. No point perfecting the art of self-torture. When he answered his cell and lowered his voice, she tried not to eavesdrop. She chatted incessantly about work and nothing else. She even found an antique apple corer at one of the antique stores in town and brought it in to work Monday morning like nothing had changed at all.

“Got a present for you,” she said, holding it behind her back.

He set down the boxed lunches he was prepping and wiped his hands on his apron. “A present? It’s not my birthday. What’s the occasion?”

She shrugged. “No occasion. Just be glad you have a great best friend who found you this.” She held out the apple corer.

Huge dimples gouged his cheeks. “Jeanne, that’s awesome! Where did you get it?”

“One of the antique shops on the way to Whitesville.” She handed it to him, and their fingers brushed. She jerked her hand away.

He examined it and set it on the counter. “Thanks. Really.”

Normally when she gave him a little gift like that, she’d get a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Not today. They stood there with a wall of silence between them.