Tanner choked on his beer. She pounded him on the back.
“He’s still having trouble dealing with the age difference,” she explained in dulcet tones, taking his glass and raising it to her own mouth.
“I’m Tanner,” he sputtered, extending his hand.
“Brian McConnell.”
The guy didn’t take Tanner’s hand—he was too busy studying him like he was an escaped prisoner or something.
“No offense, man, but there’s no way Jill’s with you.” Brian turned back to Jill. “He’s got at least ten years on you.”
Tanner opened his mouth, but shut it slowly when Jill gave him a pleading look.
She caressed Tanner’s arm. “I was looking for someone more experienced in life…someone who knew what he wanted.” Her smile reminded Tanner of the angry badger.
“You’re new in town,” Brian said with a clenched jaw.
“Yes, I teach at the university. What about you?”
“I grew up here with Jill. Went to culinary school back east and worked in the Big Apple until I came back a few months ago. I’m the sous chef at The Chop House.”
Jill flicked her green dress with white polka dots like she was a little girl without a care in the world. “We used to be best friends until this guy took an asshole pill. It’s chronic.”
People called out drink orders around them. The Irish music had the patrons tapping their feet, but the silence between the trio was palpable. Tanner didn’t know what to do, but he knew he couldn’t leave Jill.
“Okay, Red, have it your way.” Brian’s hand grazed her arm. “See you around.” He charged off without a backward glance.
Tanner took his beer from Jill. “I assume you had your reasons for knocking that guy down.”
Pushing her red curls behind her ear with a quivering hand, she said, “He deserved it. Long story.”
“Okay, but he’s not going to gossip about me seeing a younger woman, is he?”
Her gaze scanned the crowd like she was following Brian’s progress. “No, he’s not a talker. And don’t worry about Mere. I’ll tell her about our run-in. Thank you.”
He handed her his beer. “I never leave a damsel in distress.”
She took a drink, studying him over the rim. “Actually, you got major points tonight, Tanner. I won’t forget this.”
He noticed Brian doing a car bomb at a back table, the Guinness frothing like a chemistry experiment. The man looked as miserable as Jill did. History sucked.
“It’s nothing. How about we play a game of darts? I need to forget all of the cheese talk.”
She linked arms with him. “Okay, but you have to buy me mozzarella balls if I win. They sound so good.”
He snorted, glancing over at Meredith. Jill was right. This guy was history. Her eyes were glazed over with boredom.
“Large or small?”
“
Large,
darling. Always.”
He laughed. Suddenly Meredith met his gaze from across the bar. His skin tightened as he took in the full effect of the recessed lighting on her hair. It looked like fire, and he felt himself developing pyromaniac tendencies. Then the Cheese Man reached for her hand, and she looked away.
Tanner followed Jill into the back game room. He tested the weight of the metal dart she placed in his hands and looked over his shoulder.
Maybe he could drill the Cheese Man accidentally and save Meredith from a lifetime of small, squishy balls.
***
Meredith watched Tanner and Jill stroll away like old pals. She turned back toward Avery. God, Tanner was right. The guy really did like cheese way too much. Mozzarella balls, indeed.
And yet here she was—stuck by her own doing. She was forcing it with Avery, and she knew it.
She glanced around the bar, nodding at a few guys she’d gone out with. Her confidence was being bolstered by all the attention. The only problem was the more she went out with other men, the more she wanted to go out with Tanner. She found herself comparing each of her dates unfavorably to him, thinking about how much broader Tanner’s shoulders were, how much brighter his smile was. He had a better sense of humor than anyone else, and she loved how his eyes crinkled at the corners out of sheer mischief. It would be so much fun to get into trouble with him…but he was also the kind of guy who would bail you out.
She knew all that, but she had Coward Syndrome. He was still a journalist.
She
had
to get over him so she could find Mr. Right.
Hard to do when he showed up everywhere. The mornings at the swimming pool were sheer torture. She’d had to buy a dual-lined swimsuit so he couldn’t see how turned on she got from looking at his wet, nearly naked body. And then there was her social time. Like tonight.
She sat through another story of Avery finding the most incredible stilton cheese in some remote English village.
Ditch this guy and go find Tanner,
Divorcée Woman chimed in.
You know you want to.
She picked up her glass, trying to ignore the voice. Lately, when Tanner was around, she could hear it with crystal clarity.
I’m only telling you what you already know.
Do not, she fired back, and then realized she was talking to herself. She shifted in her seat.
I’m not stopping until you do what you want to do. You created me to give you confidence. Running from Tanner is cowardly. You know it. I know it.
“Meredith, did you hear me?” Avery reached for her hand again.
“No, it’s getting a little loud in here,” she lied. “What did you say?”
His crooked smile suddenly reminded her of a puddle of melted cheese.
“I asked if you wanted to go somewhere quiet and talk.”
No, dear God, please. He was nice, but more talking?
Avery leaned forward. “Let’s get out of here.”
Oh, she hated this part. “I have some more people I promised to see. And Jill’s still here. How about another time?”
His crooked, melting cheese smile faded. “Okay then, I’ll see you later.”
“I’ll come by the shop.”
He beamed. “I’ll save the ash cheese.”
Great. She wondered if it was like eating cigarette ash, except with a good cheddar flavor.
“See you later, Avery.” Weaving toward the bar for a stiff drink seemed like a brilliant plan.
“Hey, Meredith,” Larry Barlow called out. He was sitting at a stool by the bar, looking good in his worn denim.
Too bad he was a jerk.
“How ya been?”
She kept her distance. “Great. You?”
“Couldn’t be better. Wanna drink?”
In what universe? “Nah, can’t. I have to find Jill.”
“She’s playing with that journalist. He’s killing her at darts.”
Jill losing at darts? That was a first.
“See ya, Larry.”
Brian was watching Tanner and Jill from the darkened doorway of the game room. A chorus of groans erupted from the onlookers as Tanner hit the bullseye.
She edged closer to Brian. “What’s this I’ve heard about a blood letting?”
His head whipped around. “I’ve never seen anyone hit that many bullseyes. Jill’s pretty upset.” There was a dark expression on his face.
“She hates to lose.”
“Yes, I know. There’s no way she’s banging a guy that would crush her like that.”
“What?”
He punched the air. “I knew she was fucking lying to me! Dammit.”
Who’d put that thought in his head? Then she remembered the awkward body language between them at the bar. Ah, Jillie.
Brian shook his head. “I’m not watching anymore. She won’t walk away.”
Meredith grabbed his arm. “It takes a lot for her to walk away.”
Even in the darkened light of the bar, his face fell. “I know it, and once she does, there’s no getting her back.” He gave Jill a final look, the longing on his face painful. “See ya, Mere,” he said, and then walked away.
Meredith pressed through the crowd, heading straight for the dart board. Her sister was strung up so tight her back muscles were clenched, like a ballerina poised for a lift.
Tanner met her gaze as Jill hit the dart board on the narrow sliver of twenty points, scant millimeters from the bullseye. Wiping the chalkboard, he wrote her new score, his fingers coated white.
“Let’s make this the last game. This old man’s got to get up and teach a bunch of kids in the morning.” He yawned and stretched his arms overhead.
Meredith’s mouth went dry as she watched his muscles shift beneath his plain navy T-shirt. Even though she knew he wasn’t the least bit old or tired, his act had her body warming.
Admit it,
Divorcée Woman drawled.
That man could make you scream.
Meredith put her arms around Jill. “Hey.”
The pursed mouth and stubborn chin looked familiar. Meredith had seen it in the locker room mirror each time she’d lost a swimming competition.
“You wanna go? I’m pretty worn out from earlier.”
Jill’s eyes narrowed as she tossed the dart in her hand. “That’s your own fault. No one thought that was a good idea.”
“Ah…” Wow, she hadn’t been expecting that response.
“I’m not through,” Jill said. “You can go home. I’ll get a ride.”
Tanner walked toward them. “I really do need to go,” he said. “We’ll pick this up another time.”
He trained his gaze on Meredith, the intensity causing her to take a small step back. He had this special ability of looking at someone like they were the most important thing in the world. She could see why he was such a good journalist. People talked to someone like that. They couldn’t help it.
Jill drilled her finger into his chest. “You better mean that. I want to win those damn mozzarella balls.”
Meredith raised her brow. She knew her time with Avery had become a joke between them.
He grinned and tapped Jill on the nose. “They’re yours for the taking.” His gaze slid over to Meredith again, his brown eyes so rich and direct her heart lurched.
“I’ll see you both in the morning.”
He was referring to their swim, which he always followed up with a morning coffee at Don’t Soy With Me. She hated how he had intruded on her routine—and become a part of it.
“And what if I change my time?” she shot back.
Big mistake,
Divorcée Woman cautioned.
You won’t see a big, wet, nearly naked man. It’s better than a cup of coffee.
“I wouldn’t bother. I’ll change my time too. And beat you pretty bad for the trouble.” He winked at Jill. “I don’t like people getting between me and my morning coffee.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jill said.
His grin only widened. “See you around, ladies,” he drawled and strode through the crowd of well-wishers.
“Let’s go.” Meredith grabbed Jill’s hand. Pulling out her keys, she led her sister across the street toward her car. She heard a muffled honk from behind them and swiveled around. Tanner slowed, waved, and then sped by. Her heart turned over. Man, she had it bad.
When they got in the car, Jill snapped on her seat belt and turned to look at her. “You’re a total idiot. That guy is awesome, and he really likes you. And what do you do? You spend most of the night talking with Avery about cheese. Cheese,” she shrieked, pulling her hair. “Avery’s a nice guy, Mere, but who are you kidding? I’ve been silent about this for a while, but this story—about you coming back here to date some great small town guy and fall in love…Well, it’s horse shit.”
Meredith’s hands clenched the wheel so hard her knuckles went white. Jill’s tone cut through her like a razor.
“At first, I thought you were getting your wings, but some of your choices are…ridiculous! I mean, after these past two weeks, I keep thinking we need to go back to the hardware store so you can give your old chum Smith a second chance. What’s a weenie with early male baldness? I can’t think of one good reason why he’s not on par with some of the others.”
Meredith stared through the windshield. “Are you done?”
“No, I’m not. I understand you not wanting to end up with a guy like Rick-the-Dick, but he wasn’t a dick because he was a journalist. He was a dick because he was a dick! No other reason. You’re afraid to go out with Tanner because you’re really attracted to him and you really like him. I mean, the guy even backed off when you needed more time. He’s a good one, Mere. What’s holding you back?”
She turned in her seat, the belt cutting into her side. “I told you. He’s a journalist, Jillie, and I won’t do that again.”
“And you called me stubborn.” Jill flung a strand of hair over her shoulder. “That’s a stupid rule, Mere, and you know it.”
“I don’t care. I’m not dating him!”
“You sound like a child.”
Her face heated, and her heart rate doubled. “You’re just upset because Tanner beat you, and you’re taking it out on me.”
“Bullshit! Yeah, it pissed me off, but he was even gracious about
that
. I was hoping he’d be a heel so I could feel superior somehow, but he wasn’t. You’re being stupid!”
She slammed her hand on the gearshift. “Don’t call me, stupid! You don’t know what it’s like to have your confidence stripped away like old paint.”
“No, I don’t know, but I do know that you’re still letting that asshole do it.”
“I’m going to need to find my own place if we can’t get along,” Meredith said, knowing it was unfair. They’d gotten along perfectly well until this moment. “I don’t want to fight like this.” The words made her look away, eyes blurring from tears.
“Fine, run away! But you can’t run far. When are you going to understand that? Your problems go where you do.”
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to start over? I’m thirty years old and divorced. A failure. It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” Meredith cried, leaning her head against the seat.
Grabbing her by a shoulder, Jill said, “No, I don’t know, but as they say, it is what it is. You’re one of the most awesome women I know. You’re a great journalist who made it in New York City. And you’re a loving and funny woman who’s managed to get the entire male population of Dare Valley under the age of sixty hot and bothered in a month. You can do anything you want to do. You always have.”
Time to start believing it,
Divorcée Woman chimed in.
She was quiet for a long moment, and then she said, “Okay. You’re right. I was having a pity party.”