Mark flicked to the last page of one of the dozen cooking magazines he subscribed to and set it on the glass coffee table with a sigh. It was Wednesday, Vince was covering the diner for the rest of the afternoon, and like so many quiet days that seemed to go on forever, Mark found himself wondering what the hell he was doing with his life.
At his feet, Scout was snoring softly, and Mark reached down to lay a hand on his soft fur, finding something soothing in the comfort of the dog’s body under his hand. He wasn’t alone anymore, and he liked it that way—more than he dared to admit.
Regret gnawed at him when he thought of how many years he’d spent holed up in an empty house, occasionally opening the door to the random girl or friend, but always shutting it firmly behind them on the way out. He’d told himself he was happy that way, that he liked his space, that he didn’t want the complications that came with letting someone in and sharing… anything. It was better to control his world, to choose who came in and who went out, to know that in his carefully chosen orbit, there was no room for disappointment or heartache.
No room for surprises.
“Don’t know what I’d do without you, buddy,” he murmured, giving Scout a light pat on the back.
The dog lifted his head from his paws and turned to him with big brown eyes. Since Scout had slipped through the gate, Mark had secured the fence and taken extra care in keeping the latch closed at all times. He was too ticked at Anna’s negative assumption to give her the satisfaction, but the truth was that he was scared to the bone when she told him Scout had wandered all the way down to Mountain Road, in the dark, and that he had been none the wiser. The thought of losing the one good thing that had come his way in years left him rattled, stirring up all those feelings of self-doubt he’d tried to bury over the years. It would have been his damn fault if something had happened to the pup, just like Anna had accused.
She’d been right. He was careless. A few nights ago with Scout. Years ago with her.
For two years she was his closest friend. Then he had to bring it to the next level. Ruin everything they’d shared.
He should have known better than to take that risk. With Anna. With anyone.
Mark stood, stretching his back, which had begun to ache more and more from so many hours on his feet, reminding him that he wasn’t young anymore—as if the sight of all his friends with babies wasn’t enough. Deciding some fresh air would be good for his mood, he took Scout’s leash from the hook near the back door and attached it to his hunter green collar. Handing over a treat, he stuffed a few more into his pocket and stepped outside. They took the driveway to the road and followed it for a mile south. By Mark’s calculations Luke should be home from work now; a chat with his cousin was just the thing he needed to remind him of the family he had in his life, not the one who had chosen not to be a part of it.
He’d been thinking about his dad too much these days. It happened every time he started making plans for himself, daring to open the kind of restaurant he envisioned. He could see it all, lively and bustling, and then just as quickly the image would be replaced with the dark and dead Tavern on Main.
If his father’s restaurant hadn’t failed, would he have stuck around? Mark’s parents had often fought over that place, especially toward the end. It started with the time and attention Bill gave the business, and then turned to shouting matches over money. Sometimes Mark hated that restaurant—wished it would go away. But what he didn’t know was that Tavern on Main was the best of his father, and when it was gone, he was, too.
Luke’s black Range Rover was in his driveway, and he opened the door before Mark and Scout made it to the top of the stairs. “Perfect timing,” Luke grinned. “I was going to call you later. Beer?”
Mark nodded. “Thanks.”
He unhooked Scout’s leash and handed him another biscuit, which Scout eagerly accepted and then took to the living room to enjoy. Mark winced as he watched the dog jump onto one of the soft leather sofas Luke had centered around the large stone hearth. “Sorry about that.”
Luke just grinned. “Don’t worry about it; you know I like dogs. I’m hoping Grace and I will get one of our own soon.” He popped the cap off two beers and handed him one.
“You seem to be in good spirits today,” Mark commented, eyeing his cousin steadily. “Normally, you’d jump on the opportunity to jab me about Scout’s lack of training.”
Luke just shrugged, but his grin widened. “I’m going to propose to Grace.”
The beer remained halfway to Mark’s mouth. “But… I mean… I assumed you might ask her to move in first.”
“It’s been good for her to stay with her mom these past few months. They both needed that time together, especially with Ray’s passing.”
Mark nodded slowly and took a long sip from his bottle. He didn’t taste a thing. “It just seems so soon.”
Luke frowned. “I thought you’d be happy for me.”
What the hell had gotten into him? No one knew better than Mark how much Grace meant to Luke. When she’d come back to town over Christmas, he’d been the one who encouraged Luke to see if something was still there between them. He should be thrilled that his cousin was marrying his first love. Instead, that stomach-churning feeling he’d been fighting off and on for years was hitting full force, knocking every rule he’d ever made for himself upside down.
He pushed back the unwanted emotions. “Of course I’m happy. Just shocked, that’s all. Jeez, man, congratulations!” He thumped Luke on the back and then brought the beer to his mouth, feeling the cool, foamy liquid trace its way down his throat.
Luke was getting married, and not for the first time. After the pain of losing his first wife, he was finally getting a second chance at happiness, with the girl he’d been crazy about since they were just kids. He’d been down. He’d been crushed. First by Grace when she’d broken his heart, then by Helen’s death. Somehow, despite it all, he was willing to try again. Willing to let Grace in. Willing to believe this time it would be different.
Willing to accept the risks if it wasn’t.
Mark gritted his teeth. All week he’d been pushing aside this pesky attraction to Anna, telling himself it was the friend he was missing, nothing more. She was a pretty girl, so what? But he couldn’t deny the part of him that wondered… could there be a second chance for him and Anna if he wanted there to be?
Luke reached into his pocket and pulled out a box, setting it on the counter with a determined smack. Mark’s eyes widened on it, the reality of the commitment setting in. When had he ever shown such a leap of faith?
He looked into the living room, where Scout had moved over to the large floor-to-ceiling windows, basking in the late afternoon sun. A dog was one thing. A person… a person could leave you. Hell, even Scout had nearly wandered away.
Luke flipped the lid and Mark let out a low whistle, leaning in closer for a better look at the solitaire diamond on a thin platinum band. “When are you going to do it?”
“Tomorrow,” Luke said. He tapped his finger against the counter, his stare fixed on the box, his jaw set with resolve. He suddenly looked nervous as hell. “Think she’ll like it?”
Mark grinned, resisting the urge to joke with Luke’s sudden uncertainty. There had been enough of that. “She’ll love it.”
Luke slipped the box into a drawer. “I’ve already talked to Kathleen, and we’re going to have an engagement party this Friday at the Madisons’ house. She’s planning everything for it, along with my mother.”
Mark’s mind spun at how quickly this was happening.
“Another thing,” Luke said, leaning against the counter.
Mark shifted the weight on his feet, fighting the growing restlessness. It was one thing when Luke had married Helen—Mark hadn’t cared much about it then, other than to be happy for his cousin. The years of loneliness hadn’t set in yet; plenty of friends were still single. Not anymore. After Helen died, Luke had fallen back into bachelorhood, and his bachelor status made Mark feel more normal, less unfocused. Less alone.
Had he really assumed it would continue like that forever? A little part of him maybe had. Instead, Luke had found love again. He was moving forward with his life.
While Mark… Well, Mark was left behind. Even though he’d promised himself never to be in this position again, it couldn’t be avoided.
“I know you’ve already been there for me once, but I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have stand at my side. You were the one who got me out of my rut after losing Helen. You helped me start living again. So what do you say, will you be my best man?”
“Of course!” Mark gritted his teeth harder, hoping his smile wouldn’t waver. He clinked his beer to Luke’s and knocked it back, waiting for his racing pulse to slow, wondering what it would take to banish this feeling that had suddenly consumed him. Normally when he got like this, he hit the bar, chatted up a friendly girl, and took his mind off his troubles. A little fun, a little flirting, and he had his fix. More and more, though, it wasn’t enough. It left him feeling more empty, more alone, and more filled with an aching reminder of what was missing.
By Friday morning, it was official. Luke and Grace were engaged. Anna announced it breathlessly within minutes of arriving at the diner, but Luke had already called Mark late the night before to tell him Grace had accepted.
As if there were ever any doubt.
“I’m the best man. Again.” Mark gave a half-hearted grin as Anna pushed up her sleeves and began measuring flour.
“That’s quite an honor.” She caught his eyes, and his gut tightened at the clarity of her blue gaze. “I’m not sure if I’ll be the maid of honor. Even though I’m the middle sister, Grace and Jane always had a special bond. Or she might ask Ivy Birch. They’ve been friends since they were children.”
Mark nodded thoughtfully. He supposed he’d have the same dilemma if he ever made it to the altar. He loved his brother, but he was closer to Luke than Brett in many ways. Being the oldest, he’d had to look out for his mother and brother after his father cut town—it was a strain Luke understood firsthand when his own father passed away a few months later. Those types of bonds were unspoken and deep.
His brow furrowed as he peeled an onion. What the hell was he even thinking about this for? He was never getting married. He knew firsthand that marriage didn’t last. In the end, someone always left. One way or another…
His mind trailed to his mother and his heart began to wrench like it did every time he thought of her lying in bed, thin and pale, with that patterned scarf around her head. She shouldn’t have been alone then—and she wasn’t, because he’d made damn sure of it. He’d put two years of his life on hold, deferring college until she was in remission, working in the diner to keep it going. He’d done it again by coming back here after culinary school, vowing that he’d do what he had to, just so long as she got better.
A wave of guilt washed over him when he thought of the way he’d been thinking about his father again recently, remembering the way it felt to work side by side in Tavern’s clamoring kitchen. The man had treated his mother like dirt, leaving her with two young sons and no money, not bothering to check in or be there for her when she was staring death in the face. What kind of son did that make him?
His frown deepened as he hacked at the onion.
“You all must be relieved. I know Luke went through a dark period after Helen died. It was tough for him to be alone like that,” Anna said, as if reading his thoughts.
That it was. Luke had suffered. Greatly. He deserved this happiness. Everyone does.
“Luke and Grace were meant to find their way back to each other. I’m glad it worked out for them.” He chopped the onion over and over until it was more of a mince than the course chop he had intended. Damn it. He slid it to the side and plucked another from the bowl.
“It makes me feel optimistic,” Anna said. “If they found their way back to each other, then there’s hope for us all, right?”
They locked eyes. Anna blinked slowly, the black lashes that rimmed those turquoise blue irises fluttering. In the heat of the kitchen, her cheeks glowed with pink nearly as rosy as her mouth.
His gut stirred with desire, tightening with longing he wasn’t sure he could resist. But even if he dared to try, stepped outside his comfort zone and reached for her, would she let him back in? He wasn’t so sure of it. They’d come a long way in recent weeks, further than he’d thought they ever could, but that didn’t mean she’d forgiven him. And it didn’t mean he was ready for anything more.
Her lips curved into a smile and her eyes disappeared behind those lashes as she returned to her task. He watched her for a second longer, fighting the weight in his chest. She could be his friend again maybe, and maybe that could be enough this time. It had meant something once—enough for him to take the leap, to think it would be enough to last, to give him the guarantee he needed.
Instead, it had only scared him more than ever.
“Guess we’ll have to take tonight off from recipe testing for the engagement party,” he said. The disappointment that gnawed at him quickly disappeared when he imagined Anna in some sexy little number. “Hard to believe the contest is a week away. Maybe we can get an early start on the recipes tomorrow to make up the time.”
Anna hesitated. “Mind if we meet a little later, actually? Is nine too late?”
His smile faltered, but he hid his surprise with a low laugh. “You got some hot date or something?”
He’d meant it as a joke, but the blush that colored her cheeks hit him square in the gut. She didn’t look at him as she muttered, “Something like that.”
His hands were on autopilot, scoring the flesh of another onion. The blade worked in even strokes, but his mind was spinning. “Anyone I know?”
Anna sprinkled her work surface with flour before transferring the dough from its bowl. “Perhaps.” She glanced up at him. “Your aunt is playing matchmaker. She has someone in mind.”
Rosemary loved to meddle. She was forever hinting that he needed the love of a good woman, and that he couldn’t hold out forever.
“Well.” He forced a tight smile. “Lucky guy.”
Anna’s hands froze on the dough she’d been working for a split second, but he didn’t regret his words. Let her take from them what she would—let her spear him with a hard look, rattle off a caustic remark. Let her say all the things he felt. Let her voice his worst fears.
Yes, this guy was lucky, damn it. Yes, this guy would be smart enough to treat her better than he had. Was he a hypocrite to want the very same thing he dreaded?
“You know, why don’t we just skip tomorrow night?” His voice was sharper than he intended, and she snapped her gaze to him, confusion knitting her fine brow. Or perhaps—he pressed his mouth firmly—perhaps it was hurt. He cracked an egg for a quiche. “We’ve been tweaking these recipes all week. A couple nights off might be just what we need to take a step back and reassess.”
Oh, he’d be reassessing all right. And getting a firm grip. Come Sunday at this time, he’d have a clear head on his shoulders, the one he’d boasted—with the exception of that one little hiccup that last summer of school—since the day his dad had walked out, never to return.
Anna set the scones in the oven and set the timer. “If you think that’s best.”
He ignored the hint of sadness in her tone. “Yeah,” he said, cracking another egg, and another. He whisked in some salt and pepper, a splash of heavy cream. “We’ve been working hard. A break will be good.” A break was always the answer. When things got too tense, too serious, the best thing was a little distance.
He finished the quiche in silence and slid it into one of the ovens. From the corner of his eye, he could see Anna watching him from her position at the center counter, each step of her task seeming slower and more deliberate than usual.
“I’ve got some paperwork to go through,” he said brusquely, motioning to his office just off the back of the kitchen.
He bolted through the door, closing it firmly behind him, and threw himself into his chair. Anna was going on a date, and his aunt was the one behind it all. It felt like a betrayal, like some sick, twisted irony, even though Rosemary of course didn’t know. She couldn’t. As far as he knew, Anna had never told anyone what had happened between them that summer and neither had he. By the time they’d returned to Briar Creek after each of their graduations, it was over, and he surely would have had an earful if Anna had let anything slip. That time had been theirs, their secret, their haven, and when it was gone…
Anna changed. She hardened. She didn’t share, and she didn’t let people get close. And now, after all these years, the walls were finally coming down. She was letting him back in, and he had a sinking feeling it was because only now, after all this time, the thing he’d feared the most had happened. She was over him.