Willow Spring (14 page)

Read Willow Spring Online

Authors: Toni Blake

Oh. Oh God. It was
her
causing this? Their argument had upset him that deeply? But then again, it only made sense—she just kept forgetting, or maybe choosing to forget, how much she’d affected Mike’s life. And now she felt like
worse
than a heel. She was the caked-on dirt on the
bottom
of someone’s heel. And she knew she had to fix this
now,
that it couldn’t wait until after the ceremony.

“Mike, I’m sorry,” she said, stepping into the room. “I didn’t mean to upset you so much. And on today of all days—my timing stinks. All I ask is that . . . can you please try to be a little more reasonable?”

He appeared at once shocked and relieved at her arrival. Yet still he said, “I thought I
was
being reasonable.”

At which she noticed Logan rolling his eyes and flashing Mike a look—which made her brother say, “Okay, okay—yes, I can try to be more reasonable.”

“Listen,” she told him, “when you come home, I’ll still be in Destiny—just not at your house. It’s too close, and as nice as Rachel has been about this, newlyweds don’t need a houseguest. Tessa and Lucky have offered to let me stay at his place since he’s mostly moved in to hers now anyway. And I think that will be best for everyone. So . . . how’s that for a compromise?”

Mike sighed and she couldn’t read his expression. “Well, I’d rather have you with me and Rachel . . . but at least you’ll still be here in town. And that makes me happy.”

She gave a short nod, then added, “And you have no say over who I date or what I do unless I ask for your opinion. Cool?”

She thought he looked like he was having a little difficulty breathing as he said, “Not really, but—”

“Dude, it’s time,” Logan said, tapping at his wrist impatiently. “Be nice and make up.”

Mike let out a breath. “But . . . yeah. Whatever you say.”

And though she still thought Mike was one of the most intolerant, narrow-minded, unreasonable men she’d ever met, she knew now was the time to let it go. She had a feeling their battles weren’t over, but she’d won this first one, and she didn’t want to cause him any more grief right now.

And she also realized in that moment that . . . well, maybe she’d grown to care about the big lug even more than she’d thought. Because she really wanted him to be happy. She really didn’t like hurting him. And she looked forward to seeing him walk down the aisle and marry the woman of his dreams.

So without weighing it, she stepped up, rose on her tiptoes, and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. And she said, “Despite all this, Mike, I’m still glad you’re my big brother.”

She watched then as he closed his eyes, and she knew—felt—how deeply the simple gesture had moved him, perhaps at a moment when he’d needed it most.

“Thank you,” he said then, hugging her back. “You just gave me the best wedding gift in the world.”

L
ogan’s mind whirled. He stood next to Mike, serving as his best man, with Mike’s brother Lucky on the other side of him, watching as Sue Ann’s little girl, Sophie, made her way carefully up the aisle, dropping cream-colored rose petals from a basket with every delicate, nervous step she took. A version of Norah Jones’s “Come Away With Me” played on a harp, Rachel and Mike having bypassed the traditional wedding march for something more modern. And his whole focus should be
here, now
—on the details of his best friend’s wedding as it took place. Yet Anna sat in the front pew along with Mike’s parents, distracting him in a rockin’ hot dress, her lips glossy and red and kissable. And then there was that last mystery note, last week outside the Dew Drop, promising that his secret admirer would reveal herself—tonight!

But hell, do I even care who it is if I’ve got Anna Romo interested in me?

Yet . . . something niggled deep inside him, telling him he did. Logically, it was probably someone he’d never be into—the idea of some adolescent or high school girl seemed likely, and horrible—and still he couldn’t deny that the mystery was titillating, and flattering, even if also a little nerve-wracking.

At the other end of the aisle now, Jenny Brody stepped onto the runner and made her way toward the altar as everyone turned to look.

And what if . . . what if whoever had written those notes was somebody amazing? Not that he could envision who that could be. After all, he knew everyone in town. But even so, his imagination roamed.

And of course he’d asked Anna about the notes last week at the Dew Drop—but even when she’d said yes, she’d said it so easily, so casually, that he’d decided she’d misinterpreted the question and thought that by messages he’d meant . . . signs, or hints or something.

Could
it be her? But why would she be so cryptic when she didn’t seem like a cryptic person at all? On the other hand, though, maybe she thought it was sexy, romantic, fun.

Well, tonight he’d find out, one way or the other.

Next came Sue Ann, who had definitely gotten back to being her perky self since starting a new relationship with his buddy Adam back in the winter. Adam stood two spots down from him in the line of groomsmen and Logan caught Sue Ann casting a smile in his direction. They made a perfect couple and he couldn’t help thinking how odd it was that he’d never thought of them together before, even though they’d been lifelong friends.

Amy would be next in line, which took his thoughts back to Rachel’s bachelorette party, to when Amy suggested he fix her up with someone. Since when did Amy date? Not that it was weird, but she just . . . didn’t usually. Still,
of course
she would want to find a guy to go out with, just like anyone else. And yet . . . the idea of fixing her up with somebody rankled a little. Because . . . who would be good enough for her? Guys could be dogs, after all. Who could he be sure would treat her right, the way she deserved?

He switched his gaze to the back of the church then to see Amy begin making her way down the aisle in a bold, cobalt blue dress and—wait. Holy shit.
Was
that Amy? He knew it was, but . . . he stood there dumbfounded, amazed. He’d never seen her look so gorgeous. He’d never known she . . . could.

He drank in the vibrant emerald of her eyes from where he stood, somehow drawn out by the hue of the dress. And they looked bigger, wider, than he’d ever realized before. Her lips appeared . . . downright lush, moist. And her freckles were paler than usual, covered by makeup he guessed, but . . . well, hell, who cared about freckles at a time like this?

He’d never before noticed her breasts, not in their whole lives really, but damn—he was noticing them now. Their pale upper ridges curved from the bodice of that dress which . . . God, did nice things to the rest of her body, too.

Really? This was his Amy? His freckles? He had to give his head a short, brisk shake to clear it and hope no one noticed. He couldn’t believe that Amy, his Amy, had somehow become . . . a complete and total knockout.

Ten

 

“ . . . she is loveliness itself . . .”

Jane Austen, from
Emma

 

T
he ceremony at the church had been truly heartrending—Amy had seen in Rachel and Mike’s eyes, and heard in their voices, how incredibly happy they were. Not a cross word had been spoken between any Romos and Farrises, and now—after all following Rachel and Mike here in his Grandpa Giovanni’s turquoise Cadillac, in which the two had done a lot of their falling in love—everyone mingled about the orchard’s barn like old friends.

With the help of sparkling mini lights and festive lanterns, the barn at Edna’s place had been transformed into the perfect reception hall. Round tables draped with white cloths filled one end while a dance floor had been assembled at the other.

It was one of the largest weddings Destiny had seen, with over two hundred guests. And now Amy watched as Mike greeted his cousin Joe, and Joe’s wife Trish, who’d come from Indiana for the occasion. And most of Rachel’s family had traveled a variety of distances to be here, as well.

Amy stood with Tessa, admiring it all, when Rachel came rushing up, still the most vibrant bride Amy had ever seen, to give them both a hug. “I did it! I’m married! I’m Mike’s wife! Can you believe it?”

Amy couldn’t have been happier for her. Her friend who’d once left Destiny, determined to never look back, was now more content and joyous here at home than Amy had ever seen her.

I only hope I can be that happy one day.

But at the moment, it felt doubtful. As she caught sight of Logan across the barn talking to Anna, she realized just how weak and futile her attempts to keep the two apart had been. Notes from a secret admirer? That was all she had in her? She let out a huge sigh. Apparently so.

And maybe her attempts were even . . . selfish. What if God
had
delivered Anna to Destiny as much for Logan as for Mike? What if Amy was actually trying to stand in the way of something being orchestrated by fate?

As always, Anna looked stunning—and it was clear to see that the townsfolk of Destiny were still in awe that their missing princess had at last returned home. If you stood quietly in any corner of the barn, you could hear the happy whispers: how wonderful this was for Mike, and what perfect timing that she could be here for his wedding, and what an amazing happy ending to a story people thought had ended long ago. It was a miracle.

And it truly was. Amy knew that. Yet that ugly jealousy still burned inside her and she couldn’t seem to will it away.

“Amy, you look fabulous tonight,” Caroline Meeks approached to say just then.

Amy switched her gaze to the other woman, her smile sincere. “Thank you, Caroline.”

“That shade of blue is definitely your color.”

Then LeeAnn Turner chimed in, as well. “And you should wear your hair up more often. It really shows off your pretty eyes and those high cheekbones.”

“I barely recognized you at the wedding,” said Cara Collins, a sweet teenage girl Amy knew from the bookstore. Amy had fixed Cara up with her boyfriend, Tyler Fleet.

Amy graciously accepted the compliments and let them fill her heart with just a pinch of hope—for a minute or two. And it
was
truly gratifying to discover she could be pretty, and maybe she would try to fix herself up a little more from now on. But after the others drifted off, another glance across the way reminded her that . . . well, it didn’t matter how good everyone else in town thought she looked if Logan didn’t notice. And as far as she could tell, he still had eyes only for Anna.

“Go make him notice ya,” Edna said behind her then, nearly making her leap out of her skin.

Amy turned toward Rachel’s grandma. “Sheesh, Edna, you nearly scared the wits out of me.”

But Edna ignored that and went on. “She don’t own him, ya know. You can walk right up and start a conversation with the both of ’em without it lookin’ the least bit pushy. So go remind him you’re here. See what happens.”

Amy appreciated Edna’s encouraging spirit, yet . . . “I don’t know, Edna. Aren’t things supposed to happen naturally? Seems to me like if you have to work too hard for it that maybe it’s just not meant to be.”

Yet Edna merely shrugged. “Maybe yes, maybe no. Sometimes the best things in life are worth working for. It’s God’s way of makin’ ya appreciate ’em more. Or maybe . . . showin’ ya what you’re capable of. Which is usually more than anybody thinks they are.” And with that, Edna toddled off toward the table where Rachel’s parents sat with Rachel’s brother, all from out of town. And to leave Amy stewing in the mess that was her life. When she’d been helping Rachel plan all this a few months ago, she’d never dreamed she’d feel so forlorn tonight, so empty inside.

“Hey there, cutie—lookin’ good.”

She glanced up in time to see Duke Dawson toss a wink her way as he passed by heading to the portable bar near the dance floor, and the warmth of a blush climbed her cheeks. Hmm. Wow. Duke Dawson thought she looked good tonight, too. And was he . . . making a pass at her? Maybe she was reading it wrong, but it almost felt that way, same as it had at the wedding shower.

Still . . . Duke? Really? And could she ever be attracted to him? Duke was the kind of guy who often wore a knit hat over his dark hair, even in the summertime—though he’d made the good call of leaving it at home for the wedding—and sported a few tattoos on his muscular arms. A dark goatee and piercing eyes rounded out the picture, making him . . . well, an attractive enough guy, but more than a little intimidating. God only knew how many women he’d been with. And Amy knew from Tessa that he’d once been in an outlaw biker gang in California. But then again, so had Lucky, and that hadn’t stopped Tessa from having a wonderful relationship with him, and Lucky was a great guy.

A little while later, dinner was served—in keeping with the barn setting, Rachel and Mike had decided to go with a simple country menu: fried chicken, baked beans, potato salad, and baked cinnamon apples straight from the orchard. Though Amy seldom drank, when Logan moved up and down the long wedding party table pouring wine, she didn’t stop him, since it was for toasting. And not only was she celebrating her friend’s wedding—maybe she
needed
a drink. She’d been under so much emotional pressure lately, and tonight was the worst yet.

“I’ve known Mike since we were little kids and I’ve seen him go through a lot,” Logan said, beginning his toast shortly thereafter, “and I can honestly say that it’s not easy to be this man’s friend.” Soft laughter rippled through the crowd. “But I can also say that it’s been much
easier
to be his friend since Rachel came back to Destiny. Don’t get me wrong—he’s still no picnic to be around most of the time. But Rachel softens Mike’s hard edges, and she doesn’t let him get away with any crap. I’ve never seen him happier than he’s been since she came along, and if you add all that up, she’s the perfect woman for him. To a long, happy life together, with Rachel keeping Mike on his toes the whole time.”

Then it was Tessa’s turn to stand up and toast the happy couple. “This orchard brought Rachel home,” she said, “but it was Mike who made her stay, and I’m grateful to him for that each and every day. While this union ends a family feud, it’s just one of many happy beginnings Rachel and Mike will share together. To Rachel and Mike and all their new beginnings.”

“And to Anna,” Logan added, chiming in again as he raised his glass in her direction, “for making this day even more perfect for Mike and the entire Romo family.”

Oh brother—even this, even toasts to Mike and Rachel, end up being about Anna.

And as glasses clinked and the sounds of a few, “Here, here”s echoed through the barn, some people even clapped lightly at the part about Anna. And Amy lectured herself.
Stop this—stop being so evil. This isn’t like you.
She took a big sip of her wine to help drown out her selfishness.

She drank the remainder of the glass with dinner—who cared if wine and fried chicken didn’t necessarily go together?—and helped herself to a second glass when it was time to cut the cake. Amy could have pretty much predicted that Mike would end up with a faceful of it—the crowd would have been let down if Rachel didn’t let him have it. And everyone laughed and applauded when it happened, one more part of a perfect Destiny event on a perfect Destiny summer night in June.
But if everything’s so perfect, then why am I smiling on the outside and dying on the inside?

Especially during Mike and Rachel’s first dance, to one of their special songs—James Taylor’s “Something in the Way She Moves”—because Logan and Anna were one of the couples who joined them as the song went on. Amy could almost feel her heart breaking in her chest as she watched from the bridal party table. If Logan was waiting for his secret admirer to identify herself tonight, it didn’t show. He looked completely enmeshed in Anna Romo.

Amy’s thoughts from earlier felt truer with each passing minute.
You’re wasting your time here, pining for a guy who thinks of you like his little sister, trying to compete with the most beautiful girl in Destiny.

And who knew—maybe if Duke Dawson was expressing an interest in her, it was a sign. From fate, or God, or the universe. It wasn’t that Duke made her heart go
zing
or anything like that, but maybe it was a sign to . . . be bold, like Tessa and Rachel kept telling her—but . . . in a new way. With someone who had noticed her. With someone . . . unexpected and surprising.

Maybe it was time to show people in Destiny that she could surprise people, too.

So during the next slow song, Amy took a deep breath, followed by another swig of wine, and she crossed the barn floor to where Duke stood talking with Lucky. She walked right up to him without hesitation, making it clear she had something to say to him.

He broke his conversation with Lucky to glance down at her. “Hey, cutie, what’s up?”

“Would you like to dance?”

He shrugged, the corners of his mouth turning up in a slight smile. “Sure,” he said.

And to her surprise, and even amid the slight fear that plagued her, Amy felt positively . . . triumphant.
No matter what happens now, something or nothing, I’m living. I’m making changes. I’m changing my own landscape. I’m taking my life and making it . . . a journey, an adventure, no longer just this passive existence I’ve been drifting through.
All because she’d had the courage to ask a biker to dance with her.

Logan sat talking to Anna—but he suddenly found himself watching Amy. Because . . . was he seeing things, or was she seriously slow dancing with Duke Dawson? He saw it, but it didn’t quite make sense to his eyes. Duke was a rough biker type, not suited to her at all—and the kind of person Amy would usually avoid.

And the fact was, ever since he’d seen her walk down that aisle a couple of hours ago . . . well, his mind kept drifting back to that day he’d kissed her. In the moment, it had seemed right, natural—but then afterward, he’d been so confused by it that . . . well, he’d been half drunk and when he realized what he’d done, he’d assumed he’d just kissed the nearest available girl. And he’d felt like an ass, lucky she’d forgiven him. And then he’d put it out of his mind, because it was Amy, his buddy Amy. But now it was
back
in his mind.

Every time he remembered it now, his stomach fluttered. And he wished he could remember it even more. Had he been aware of her breasts pressed against his chest beneath him? They looked so damn pretty tonight, after all—how could he have
not
been aware? Had her kiss been gentle and pliable, or firmer? Or maybe a little bit of both depending upon the moment? Had her lips been as soft beneath his mouth as they looked right now?

“Well, what do you think?” Anna said, her voice cutting into his thoughts.

He flinched, drawing his gaze from Amy and Duke down to Anna beside him. “Huh?”

A pretty laugh echoed from her throat. “Where’s your head at, silly?”

He just gave it a short shake. “Sorry. Something distracted me. What were you saying?”

But as Anna began telling him whatever she’d been talking about, he still couldn’t quite hear her, couldn’t quite concentrate, because . . . could he really be feeling that way about Amy?

Surely not. It was just too . . . strange of an idea. Not that anything about Amy was strange, but he’d just never thought of her that way. Ever. Okay, except for the kissing day. But he wasn’t sure that counted.

And besides, he had Anna. And also whoever was sending him those hot, seductive little notes.

Which led him to start looking around the barn—around the tables where people sat talking, then the dance floor, now full of couples swaying to the music. It could be anyone—anyone at all—and yet he saw no likely candidates, or at least he didn’t see anyone giving him the eye. Well, other than Anna. Damn, maybe he needed to lay off drinking tonight—he’d only had a couple of glasses of wine, but everything was beginning to feel confusing.

Just then, a high-pitched trill of laughter drew his eyes back to Amy, who was giggling girlishly at something Duke had said. Were the two of them actually . . . flirting? What exactly was she smiling about? And Duke was really funny enough to make her laugh like that? They seemed to be chatting more now and . . . what on earth were they talking about? He couldn’t imagine Amy having a conversation about motorcycles anymore than he could imagine Duke discussing books. Or cats. And why did watching them put a knot in his stomach that seemed to be growing by the minute?

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