“OWEN COOPER, GET IN HERE right this minute!”
Owen stopped in the hallway and dropped his chin to his chest. Iris Taggart had called out in her best don’t-ignore-me-boy voice, which was intimidating enough. But he knew she wasn’t sitting in the library alone. He’d seen her book club biddies arriving at the inn an hour ago, including Connie Phelps. After the Great Kitten Debacle yesterday at the shop, he had a feeling he was in for a lecture by a room full of old folks. It was one he probably deserved, but still...
“Don’t make me come out to get you—I know you’re hiding out there.”
He stepped into the doorway, putting on his best Southern gentleman smile. And accent.
“Not hiding, Miss Iris. Just preparin’ myself to face this room full of beauties...” He noticed Rick Thomas sitting in one of the armchairs near the fireplace. “And esteemed gentleman.” Rick was a professor at the college. He mouthed the word wow at Owen, who did his best to ignore him as he continued. “What can I help y’all with today?”
Iris’s eyes narrowed at him. She was seated in a tall wingback chair near the fireplace, looking every inch like a dowager queen. “First, you can lay off that Southern charm nonsense. I’ve seen you turn that accent off as easily as you turn it on.” She gestured to an empty chair between her and...he thought the well-dressed woman with perfectly arranged hair was named Vickie. Connie was across the room, on a bench next to Helen Russo from the Falls Legend Winery. Cecile was in the far corner, whispering something to Bridget McKinnon’s grandmother, Maura. Iris cleared her throat when he took the seat as she requested. “I overheard something this morning that I need you to clarify. Are you actually using some computer app-thingy to come up with these schemes to win Lucy over?”
His eyes fell closed. She must have overheard him talking to Logan in the kitchen that morning, trying to figure out how to recover from the kitten backfire.
“Uh...yes.” He looked over at Connie and rushed to apologize. “Please don’t tell Lucy. It’s just that I—”
“Thank the good Lord!” Iris exclaimed, sitting back in relief.
“What?” Why would she be happy about him using that stupid app that had caused so much trouble?
“For a while there I thought you were a complete and total idiot. But at least now I know those crazy ideas weren’t actually yours.”
A few of the women snickered, and Rick let out a snort of laughter. Owen felt his face heating.
“I...um...thank you? I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or...?”
Iris’s mouth slanted into a grin. “Well, it may not be a compliment, because trusting some computer wizardry to fix a broken heart is not very bright, but...” She winked at him, and he couldn’t help thinking she must have been a real knockout in her younger days with those silver-blue eyes and sharp mind. “You’ve given me hope that you might take some good advice from real people. Assuming you want to actually get that woman back to the altar with you.”
“I do.”
Everyone chuckled at the wedding pun, including Owen. Maybe instead of a lecture, he was going to get some advice. Or maybe a little of both.
“I don’t know you well enough to smack you across the back of the head, but if I did, I would.” Iris shook her head. “What kind of doofus thinks some generic internet list is the way to go?”
“Dr. Find-Love has a four-star rating in the app store...”
Rick’s head fell back as he started laughing loudly, wiping his eyes and wheezing as he started to speak. “I’m sorry, did you just say you paid someone called Dr. Find-Love actual money to win back the love of your life? No wonder you don’t want Lucy to know.” He straightened. “And they only had a four-star rating? Out of five? For something this important, that’s...not great.”
The professor had a point. “A friend put me onto the site.”
Rick tried to calm his laughter. “And this friend found love using the app?”
Pete Lamphear was happily single. Owen let out a groan.
“In my defense, I was drunk and desperate at the time.”
“And are you still drunk and desperate?” Rick’s brow rose sharply.
Owen grinned. “I am not drunk.”
Connie raised her hand with a laugh. “I can attest to the fact that he is very desperate!”
Laughter went around the room again. Helen’s smile softened.
“I’ve seen the two of you together, and there’s definitely something charming there. But there’s a wall between you that needs to come down. And I don’t think these big showy acts are going to do the trick.”
“The problem is they all feel like tricks to Lucy.” Connie leaned forward. “You’re turning this into a game, and that’s not what love is about. There can’t be a winner and a loser. Your gestures are so superficial.” He started to argue that the expense of refurbishing her car hadn’t been superficial, but he thought better of it.
“And how could you not know she’s allergic to cats?” Iris demanded. “Haven’t you been engaged for years?”
“Well...yeah, but...” His shoulders fell. “I was deployed a few months after we met. And even when I came back, I was still full-time Army—going to training exercises and trying to get into the Rangers. Then Lucy’s grandmother got sick, and I was going to deploy again, so she moved back to Boone to take care of her grandma. I asked her to marry me right before I left.”
“In other words,” Helen said, her voice gentle, “you’ve spent more time apart than you have together.”
“Probably.”
“Oh, Lord,” Connie tsked. “No wonder you two are such a train wreck. You barely know each other.”
“But I love her.”
“Why?” Iris’s question was so sharp he almost felt the word hit his skin.
“What do you mean, why? I just...do. That’s all. I love her.” He thought about that first week at the beach. “The minute we met... I knew she was something special. I haven’t had a lot of unexpected things happen in my life—I grew up knowing my parents’ expectations for me. I went into the Army and followed orders there, too. I’m a guy who follows the plan, you know?”
Owen looked around the room. He could swear that was pity he was seeing in the faces looking back at him. The kind of pity people had for a fool. He straightened.
“Lucy blew my plans out of the water. She was funny and sweet and sexy all rolled up in one woman. She didn’t care about convention or expectations. She cared about people, of course. In fact, she cared about other people more than she cared about herself. And she made me care. When I was with Lucy, I wasn’t thinking about the landscaping business I was going to run someday or the next tour of duty. She made me feel...lighter. More in the moment. Happier.”
There was a moment of silence before Iris spoke.
“In other words, what you loved was the way she made you feel.” The older woman fixed him with a warm, but firm, gaze. “That’s a whole lot different than loving her. Maybe if you’d gotten to actually know Lucy, you wouldn’t have been blindsided when she dumped you. You’d have known what she needed.”
He blew out a long breath. “She tried to tell me. But my last tour was...rough. I had a lot of things on my mind. Stuff I had to deal with emotionally. I’m still dealing with it.”
Maura McKinnon nodded. “That’s why you left the Shamrock when the fireworks started.”
“Yes. And Lucy knew that. She covered for me. Took care of me, because that’s who she is.” He let out a soft, humorless laugh. “She was paying attention, which is more than I can say. I just... I thought we’d have time to get to know each other after the wedding. I thought things would calm down once I found my role in the family business and then she and I would figure stuff out, you know? She’d taken on the wedding plans...until my mother hijacked them. But...the wedding was only one day in our lives. We’d have time to...”
Vickie held up her hand, her mouth a thin, flat line.
“Excuse me, but did you really just say your wedding was only one day in your lives? Your wedding. The day you commit to love someone for the rest of your life is just a day? No wonder she left you at the altar, you dolt.”
Owen blinked a few times, trying to find a defense and failing.
“Vickie, dear,” Rick started, smoothing the front of his linen shirt. “I know you have more experience at weddings than anyone else in the room, but considering you’ve been through three husbands, do you really think you should be the one lecturing on the sanctity of marriage?”
“Fuck off, Rick. I buried two of those husbands and you know it. Frankly, I am the expert on weddings here. And none of my ceremonies were ‘just another day.’” She made air quotes with her fingers. “Each one was special, whether it was in the church, in my backyard, or up at the winery. Maura, Iris, Lena and Helen were at every one of them, and they’ll tell you the same. They were special, damn it.”
Lena Fox, who’d been silent this whole time, rose to her feet with grace, lifting her large leather bag and setting the row of gold bangles jangling on her wrist. “I need to get back to the studio. But I have to say, I think we’re sidetracking the real issue here.” She turned to Owen. “The real issue isn’t that you’re an idiot. It’s that you’re a coward.”
Oh, hell no. His head started shaking immediately. “I can assure you, ma’am, I am not a coward. I fought battles that—”
“I don’t give a damn about that.” She seemed to catch herself, her tone softening. “I mean, of course I appreciate your service and sacrifice, and I’m sure you were a fine, brave soldier. But when it comes to life...” She tipped her head to the side, as if considering her next words carefully. “When it comes to life, you’d rather wait and hope your problems go away instead of dealing with them. You’re a self-absorbed coward, Owen Cooper.”
His jaw was still tight with anger, but there was a soft whisper in his head suggesting she might be right.
“How do you figure that?”
Lena was tall and attractive—Piper mentioned she’d won a modeling contest for seniors and he could believe it. Especially when she struck a pose with one lean leg in front of the other, a long-fingered hand resting on her hip, and the other gesturing in his direction.
“You talk about your parents’ plan for your life, but I haven’t heard you once mention your plan for your life. But I have heard you talk a lot about waiting until after something happens. After the Army. After the wedding. After you take over the family business—which you don’t sound very keen on. You’re a someday person. You’re a Scarlett O’Hara. You’ll think about your problems tomorrah.” The others laughed when Lena held the back of hand to her forehead dramatically and drawled the last word in a thick Southern accent, mimicking the famous movie scene. She narrowed her eyes on Owen. “Scarlett said that after the only man who’d ever loved her had walked away. And you’re just as ridiculous as she was. You’re avoiding anything that might make you uncomfortable...”
“Right now,” Owen chuckled, “this whole conversation is making me uncomfortable.”
“Good.” Lena stepped closer. “I like Lucy. She deserves a man who cares about her more than he cares about how he feels when he’s around her. A man who doesn’t expect her to wait until he’s ready to deal with what she needs. Is that man you?”
He swallowed hard. “It...it can be... I mean...it is. Yes, damn it. It is. I love her.”
She raised her chin. “Then prove it. Prove it to Lucy. Instead of all this gamesmanship, just show her you’re the man she deserves. Right now. Not later.” She turned toward the door, tossing the last line over her shoulder. “And for God’s sake, get to know the woman. At the very least, know her allergies so you don’t kill her.”
LUCY WAS JUST finishing up the shop’s only wedding order for the week when Connie and Cecile came back into the shop. She’d enjoyed having a few quiet hours to create the something special the bride had requested. The opulent combination of white roses, hydrangeas and lilies, with palm fronds to give a fresh green contrast, would probably do the trick. She peeked over the top of the massive centerpiece for the bridal table and raised a brow at Connie’s expression.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say that was almost a smile, Miss Connie. What have you been up to?”
Connie didn’t answer right away, but her cheeks went pink as she watched Lucy. That grin kept teasing the corners of her mouth. Like someone with a secret. Cecile started giggling and Connie shushed her.
“Cecile dragged me to a book club meeting, and it was...” Oh, yeah, that was definitely a smile. “It was surprisingly entertaining.”
“Wow, that must have been some book. You ladies aren’t reading Shades of Fifty or whatever, are you?”
Cecile rolled her eyes. “That book is ten years old, and painfully inaccurate about BDSM.”
“I...um...didn’t realize that...” Lucy was dying to know how Cecile knew that. Connie said once that there was more to her best friend than ruffles and curls. “So what book were you reading?”
They struck a matching pose, with mouths open and deer-in-the-headlights expressions. Lucy put her hand on her hip. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you two have been up to no good. Is this one of those so-called book clubs that’s more about drinking wine that actually reading anything?”
Cecile straightened. “Oh, we usually have a book to discuss, but sometimes we get sidetracked. Sometimes we have...surprise guests.”
“Really? Who?” Was there an author living in Rendezvous Falls?
Connie swatted at Cecile, who started to stammer.
“Ow! Uh...no one! Nope. No guests today.” She held up a warning finger at Connie, who was threatening to smack her again. “We just got distracted with...local gossip.” Cecile stepped closer to the table. “Look at those flowers! Who are they for? Anyone I know? Is it a wedding? Show me what else you’ve done...”
Lucy knew a subject change when she saw one, but she decided to let the women keep their secret. As long as it didn’t involve her, they could have their fun. She opened the cooler and pulled out the bridal bouquet, which was primarily hydrangeas in white and blush pink. Her boss and the boss’s best friend approved enthusiastically, and she put everything back in the cooler until morning.
Cecile pulled out a seat at the worktable, and Connie joined her—after pulling out her “secret” bottle of wine from the far corner of the cooler. Lucy had discovered it her first week as she was rearranging the storage. She lifted what should have been an empty flower bucket and discovered a bottle of chardonnay inside. Without saying a word, Lucy took three plastic glasses from the shelf and joined them.
Connie poured. “Did Owen find a home for that kitten?”
Lucy grimaced. “Yes, thank goodness. Piper’s daughter Lily had been begging for a pet, so Logan took the kitten off Owen’s hands. They have that big dog, of course, but she sleeps with Ethan up in the attic bedroom. I guess Lily has been complaining about it. I got a text this morning saying Lily adored the kitten and has already named her Snowball.” She shrugged. “Perfect name for a golden kitten, right? It means I’ll need to take a big dose of antihistamines if I visit my neighbor, but I’m happy that adorable little ball of fluffy allergens found a good home.”
Cecile’s head tipped slightly. “Did you ever tell Owen how allergic you were?”
She had to think for a moment. “I’m sure I did at some point, but I don’t know if we ever had a specific conversation about pets and allergies. If he’d ever said he wanted a dog or cat, I would have made it very clear that we had to be careful. But I don’t remember him wanting animals of any kind.”
“What did you talk about? Ow!” Cecile leaned away from the smack Connie had given her. “What? I’m just wondering how these two almost got married and know so little about each other after years together. And yes...” She glared at Connie. “I know it’s none of my business, but I’m curious. If Lucy doesn’t want to answer me, that’s her choice.”
“The key words there,” Connie huffed, “are ‘none of your business.’”
“It’s okay, Connie.” Lucy held up her hand. “It’s a fair question. I think Owen and I made a lot of assumptions about each other. He spent a lot of time deployed or away for training, I ended up busy caring for my grandmother. I think we both mentally filled in the blanks for all those mundane questions.” She took a sip of her wine, thinking perhaps she should lock up the shop if they were going to drink. “Then we got to our wedding day and realized we didn’t know each other very well.”
“You mean you realized it.” Connie lifted one shoulder. “It sounds like Owen was oblivious to everything.”
“But he said he lo...oof!” Cecile reacted to what seemed to have been a hard kick under the table from Connie. These two were acting awfully shady. Cecile straightened, reaching up to fluff her bright blond curls. “I mean...you must have loved each other, right?”
Lucy stared at the table, its surface crisscrossed with years of cutting marks and stains. “We fell for each other fast and hard. In a weird way, being forced to be apart so much was a bit of a thrill. We were always looking forward to seeing each other again—we were in a constant state of anticipation.” She smiled, tracing her fingers along one long scratch on the table. “But now I wonder if that was just me being in love with the anticipation.”
That didn’t ring true, even as she said it. She’d loved Owen’s quiet calm in contrast to her frenetic energy. He settled her with all of his confident planning and his devotion to familial and military duty. He’d been her rock, saving her when she felt like she was ping-ponging between jobs and towns and dreams. She’d loved him. She still loved him, but what difference did it make when he’d be going back to Greensboro in a week?
“And the sexy times were good?” Cecile asked, this time avoiding Connie’s swat with a fast duck to the side. “Hey, if the sex is good, you can build off that as a foundation. Charlie and I started as what they call friends with benefits, and look where we are now—happily married for almost forty years and madly in love. And let me tell you, the sexy times are still good. Never better, as a matter of fact.”
Lucy’s face was hot, and she couldn’t stop the embarrassed laugh that bubbled up. Maybe all those opinions the woman had about BDSM romance novels were based on personal experience? It was hard to believe, with Cecile’s overall pastel fluffiness. And it was definitely something Lucy didn’t want to try imagining.
“Oh, for God’s sake, woman.” Connie drained her glass. “Everyone knows you and Charlie are horny toads. You don’t need to fill poor Lucy’s brain with that image.”
“But...were your sexy times good?” Cecile persisted.
“Yeah. The sexy times were good. Really good.” Lucy giggled. “Our first time was in the back of that old Bronco of his. Parked on the beach with nothing but the moon and stars over us. And every time we got together after a separation of any sort...even if it was just a week.” She sat back with a sigh. “We came together and...pow. Fireworks and big brass bands. Every damn time.”
Cecile’s smile softened. She reached over and put her hand on Lucy’s.
“Brass bands every time? Yeah, that’s something to build on, for sure. Big brass band sex doesn’t come around often, and you don’t want to give that up, honey.”
“I can’t marry a man just because the sex is good. Marriage has to be more than that,” she spoke to herself as much as to the two women with her. “Then again, what do I know about marriage? I thought my parents were happily married, and look at them. Lying. Cheating. For years. And I had no clue.”
That was another sentence that didn’t quite ring true. If she was honest with herself, she’d known things weren’t as they seemed on the surface with her parents. She just hadn’t poked at it, not wanting to admit the Higgins family might not be the true love ideal she’d wanted it to be. But then again, as a family, they’d been good. She grew up in a loving home, even if her parents’ attention was often on her big sister more than her. She’d still never wanted for anything. They didn’t understand her love of flower arranging, but other than insisting she have a backup plan with that accounting degree, they’d been supportive of the choices she’d made. She frowned. It was less confusing when she’d been flat-out angry with them. Time was softening her anger and making her see she may have been too hasty the night before her wedding.
But no. The problems were real, even if her response was...drastic. Her dream wedding had turned into a nightmare. She’d felt powerless. Just as she’d felt powerless when trying to get Owen to support her. Just as she’d felt powerless when she overheard her parents discussing divorce. Or when Owen had taken that extension of duty without even discussing it with her. And she was tired of feeling powerless in her own life. Her spine stiffened. She was done being powerless. But was any of that Owen’s fault?
“Do you miss being in Owen’s arms?” Cecile’s words echoed Lucy’s thoughts. She did miss him. His touch still had the ability to send shivers of desire across her skin. That afternoon kiss at the falls had proven that their chemistry was alive and well. She nodded in answer to the question.
“I do. When I left, I felt cornered. Like I had to fight or...lose myself.” She sighed. “But yes. I miss his touch. I miss the man he was before his last tour. I’ve seen glimpses of that man here in Rendezvous Falls, but...even if he does manage to fix things between us...what then? He’s not going to leave the family business and move here? Of course not. He made them a promise, and if there’s one thing I know, Owen is a man who honors his promises.”
Cecile leaned forward. “But what if he did stay here?”
Lucy’s pulse jumped. But no. “He’d never forgive me for forcing him to make that choice.”
Now it was Connie’s turn to sigh. Loudly. And with a fair measure of disgust.
“You two are a hot mess. You deserve each other.” Connie pointed a finger at Lucy across the table. “You’re both chicken. And foolish. Here I’ve been angry with him for bringing you that damn cat, but I bet you don’t know his allergies either. Have the two of you ever done anything other than screw in the back of his Bronco?”
“Easy, girl.” Cecile patted Connie’s shoulder with an amused grin.
“Bah! What I mean is—have you ever sat and made plans together? How do you know what he’d resent or not? Don’t you two ever talk?” She turned to glare at Cecile again. “You see? This is what happens when you base a relationship on big brass bands. They’ve never talked about what comes after the band marches off the field!”
Lucy gripped the edge of the table and stood. She was pretty sure the annoyance she felt was because Connie had struck perilously close to the truth.
“Okay, this conversation about my sex life and brass bands is over, ladies. All you’re doing is reinforcing the fact that I made the right decision. I almost married a guy who makes my toes curl when he kisses me, but doesn’t know my allergies. If I’m going to marry someone, it should be someone who knows everything about me.”
Cecile finished her wine with a shrug, fixing Lucy with a steady gaze as she lowered the glass. “A medical bracelet can tell him your allergies, honey. But it damn sure won’t keep you warm at night. My vote is for marrying the guy who makes your toes curl.”