7

 

“Do you miss the meat?” Jami asked as she placed a second helping of her soon-to-be-famous veggie lasagna on Riley’s plate.

“Do I look like I miss it?” He dug in, devouring a mouthful. “This is delicious. With dishes like this, I could almost give up Bambi.”

“Riley Hunter!”

“I’m joking.” He surrendered his hands.

“Good.” She poured him a second cup of coffee and settled back into the chair opposite of him at her modest kitchen table. Beyond the bay window, a setting sun bathed the Angelina Forest in hues of magenta and gold. Leaves shimmered, a gentle breeze taking the edge off the July heat. “In that case, I have chocolate éclairs for dessert.”

“It’s nice of you to cook for me when there’s so much on your proverbial plate already.” Riley’s gaze locked with hers over the rim of her glass. “Tomorrow’s your Grand Opening.”

“Yes.” Jami’s heart sang with the thought. Finally, the day she’d waited an entire year for. It was fitting that the big day would take place on Independence Day. Foot traffic over the boulevard would be plentiful with the parade passing right by her shop and the festival just down the block. “I’m so excited…and nervous. Julia’s still down with that stomach bug, and I don’t have a replacement. If she doesn’t make a quick recovery, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“It will all work out.” Riley reached for her hand. “Remember, God is in control.”

“Well, maybe God can send Julia a dose of feel-better-soon.”

“I’ll send up an order.” He winked and grinned. “You’re opening at nine?”

“Right—to give early parade-goers time to have a look-see and sign up for the book club.”

“And the fireworks start at nine forty-five, so you’ll be done by then, right?”

“It’s going to be a long day.”

“But wonderful.”

“Yes…wonderful.” Jami shifted gears. If she didn’t take the focus off her and the bookstore’s big day, her nerves were likely to frazzle. “You told me about your dad, but where’s your mom, Riley?”

 

****

 

Jami’s question startled him. He took his time answering as memories flooded back to the surface.

“She’s living in Houston.” He added sugar to his coffee, along with a healthy splash of the vanilla creamer she’d set on the table. “She moved there after she and my dad divorced. She teaches art at a community college.”

“I’m sorry about their divorce. That had to be hard on you.”

“It was.” Words really couldn’t do justice to the cauldron of emotions. His world had been toppled like a high-rise made of blocks. “Things weren’t all rosy before both my parents lost their jobs, but the stress of that was the final straw, I guess. I felt so helpless, like it was my fault because my plans for college only added to their burden. I thought I’d snag a scholarship. Several scouts looked my way going into senior year. But my mediocre season blew any chance of that.”

“You couldn’t carry the team all by yourself.” Jami reached for his hand. “I watched you play. You did OK.”

“OK doesn’t cut it. I couldn’t carry the team—period. I was fooling myself, thinking I’d get what I wanted—what I needed—without giving one-hundred percent effort every day and in every way. It taught me a lesson, though, one that’s been painful to live with. I’ll never so carelessly blow another opportunity. I’ll always take care of my business—and my family.”

“Sometimes lessons hurt.” Jami nibbled her lasagna. “I got into an argument with my mom the day she and Dad had their accident. For years, I thought the wreck was my fault. But Nana did her best to set me straight. Sometimes I dream about them, so real, and I’m telling Mom how sorry I am. She nods and smiles, as if she understands. What I wouldn’t give to take those thoughtless words back.”

“We can’t have a do-over of the past, but the future is still waiting.” Riley scooted his chair back and rounded the table to lift her from her seat as Garth Brooks crooned over the radio about wind and rain and loving someone through every storm. Outside, the weather was pristine. But, inside, Riley knew they both grappled a hurricane of emotions. He drew Jami close, pressing one palm to the small of her back while he reached for her hand, twining fingers with hers. “Dance with me?”

“Here?” She lifted her gaze to meet his. “Now?”

“Why not? Let’s dance like no one’s watching.” He spun her slowly, swaying in time to the music as he felt her relax and surrender to him. She pressed her cheek to his as her laughter softly bubbled.

“You continue to surprise me, Riley.”

“Good, because the words of this song say it all for me.” He pressed his lips to the crown of her head. “I have another meeting tomorrow—about the buyout.”

“You’re still considering it?”

“You’ll see.” He merely winked and twirled her once again. Why ruin a good dance with conversation?