The BFF Bride (10 page)

“Right.”

Kristen soon went off in search of Wyatt, and since Scott was still standing on the dais along with the other lab staff, Tabby found an abandoned table and set down the drinks. Then she went out to the table where Sally was still sitting and retrieved her coat. “If Scott asks, tell him I went to powder my nose, will you?”

“Sure.”

It was just an excuse. She made her way around the tent, hoping for some sign of Justin.

She didn’t see him. Nor did she see that old truck he was using in the hospital parking lot.

Finally, she gave up and went back into the tent, where the DJ had started up again. The music was even louder, and Tabby wasn’t surprised to see some people starting to make their exit. She stepped aside to wait while they retrieved coats and scarves from the racks behind Sally’s table.

“Tabby, honey.” Hope stopped in surprise at the sight of her. “Are you leaving, too?”

She glanced down at her coat that she hadn’t yet removed. “Uh, no. Not just yet.” She’d never felt awkward around Justin’s mother in the past, and she hated feeling that way now. She pushed her fists into the side pockets. “That was quite some news about Mrs. Templeton’s donation.”

“Wasn’t it?” Hope smiled slightly and held out her arms when Tristan came back with her long wool coat. She smiled up at him as he helped her on with it. “I thought Squire was going to choke on the news, though. Evidently, he was already up in arms because of the Christmas party Vivian’s invited all of the family to. Courtney told me the only reason he didn’t get up and leave tonight after the donation announcement was because Gloria hissed at him to sit back down.”

“Want me to go warm up the car?”

Hope shook her head at Tristan. “No need. I’m too anxious to get out of these high heels.” She stuck out her elegantly shod foot from beneath the hem of her long, swinging coat. “I love an excuse to get all dressed up, but there’s always a cost.”

“Yeah. To my wallet,” Tristan drawled. He gave a quick a wink and the two of them headed off.

Sighing faintly, Tabby pulled aside the heavy plastic doorway and went back into the tent. She didn’t have to feign a headache when she finally found Scott where he was standing with a bunch of folks from the hospital. Her head was pounding for real.

He took one look at the coat she was still wearing and peeled himself away from the others. “I wondered where you’d gotten to. You all right?”

“Just too much wine and music. Would you mind if I called it a night?”

He shook his head. “Of course not. Let me tell Wyatt we’re leaving.”

“You don’t have to go. I’m practically around the corner.”

“You’re not walking home.”

She could tell from his expression there was no point in arguing. And again, she knew he deserved better company than he’d gotten from her.

Which was exactly what she told him when they pulled up in front of her triplex a short while later. “I’m sorry. You should go back to the fund-raiser,” she told him. “You have a lot to celebrate tonight.”

“Definitely was a surprise about that Templeton lady’s donation.” He smiled slightly, obviously noticing her hand on the door handle. “Mind if I ask you a question?”

“Of course not.”

“What’s going on between you and Justin?”

“Nothing.” She quickly looked away from the sight of his old truck parked on the street ahead of them. “Nothing good, anyway.”

“So you cutting the night short doesn’t have anything to do with him?”

She opened her mouth to say it didn’t. But the words wouldn’t come. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “We just, um, Justin and I used to be friends.”

Scott shifted, stretching his hand over the back of her seat. “Sure about that? Because it felt to me like there wasn’t a lot of
used to be
going on between the two of you. What it felt like was that there was a whole lot going on right now.”

Her cheeks heated. “It’s not like that.”

He waited a beat. Then he shrugged. “Okay. It’s not like it’s in my best interest to convince you otherwise.” His fingertips toyed with the ends of her hair. “But I figure if we’re going to try this again sometime—without Wyatt and his sweet nitwit of a girlfriend—I’d just as soon know what kind of odds I’m looking at.”

“Why would you even want to go out with me again?”

“Beautiful.
Not
a nitwit.” He chuckled. “Two positives right there.”

“You’re hard not to like,” she admitted ruefully. “But—”

“But you’re hung up on the guy who
used
to be your friend.”

She exhaled. “Scott—”

“I know. I’m a nice guy. But.” He suddenly leaned forward and kissed her.

She was so surprised, all she did was sit there, and then he sat back again.

“That wasn’t too bad, was it?”

It hadn’t set rockets off inside her, but it hadn’t exactly been like kissing a toad, either. “No.”

“So, if you decide what used to be really is a used to be, give me a call.”

She smiled and pushed open the car door. “G’night, Scott.”

“Night, Tabby.”

He didn’t drive away until she unlocked her front door and went inside. Not bothering to turn on a light, she dropped her keys on the table by the door and discarded her coat on the couch before going to stand in front of the window. There was a streetlight on the corner that cast its glow wide enough to encompass Justin’s truck sitting in front of the triplex.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she dashed back outside, trotted past Mrs. Wachowski’s dark windows and knocked on his door.

The second she did, the puppy started barking.

Then she heard Justin telling the dog to be quiet, and he yanked open the door. “What?”

She looked from the squirming puppy he was holding to his annoyed face.

Then she stepped close, pulled his head down and pressed her mouth to his.

He yanked back, staring at her like she’d lost her mind. “What the hell was that for?”

“Rockets,” she snapped, and turning on her heel, raced back to her apartment.

She slammed the door behind her and flipped the lock.

Even through the walls, she could hear the puppy still barking.

“Damn rockets,” she said thickly.

She stomped into her studio, snatched up the blizzard painting that she’d never been able to part with and added it to the pile waiting to be shipped off to Bolieux.

Then she sat down on the floor and cried.

Chapter Ten

“T
abby,” Bubba barked from the kitchen, drawing her attention away from the coffee brewer she was cleaning. “Phone.”

She set down the scrub brush, peeled off her rubber gloves and went into the kitchen. It was Monday afternoon, past closing time, but she and Bubba were taking care of some of the heavy-duty cleaning chores. She grabbed the receiver where it was hanging loose by the twisting, coiled cord. “Hello?”

“Tabby, dear. I’m so sorry to bother you at work.”

She recognized the voice immediately. “Mrs. Wachowski. What’s wrong?”

“It’s Justin’s puppy, I’m afraid. She’s just howling so miserably. Has been all afternoon. I’m afraid she’s going to make herself ill. I tried calling Justin at the hospital, but I couldn’t reach him. I don’t know what else to do.”

Tabby held back a sigh. Since she’d kissed him the other night, she hadn’t seen or heard from him.

As if she’d needed
more
proof of his romantic disinterest.

“I’ll take care of it, Mrs. Wachowski.”

“You’re such a sweet girl. I knew you would, dear.”

After she hung up, she let the sigh loose. She looked at Bubba, whose upper body was nearly engulfed by the oven he was repairing. “I have to run home for a few minutes,” she told him and got only a few metallic bangs in response.

She had her car with her because she’d planned to ship the paintings after she was finished at the diner, so running back to the triplex took even less time than usual. As soon as she parked in the driveway, she could hear the puppy’s sharp, frantic yipping.

She found the spare keys she kept for the other two units in her bedroom dresser and let herself in through Justin’s door.

He’d attempted to make a temporary cardboard pen for the puppy in the living room. That was immediately obvious. Equally obvious, though, was the fact that the creative little dog had managed to eat her way through it. There were scraps of half-eaten cardboard everywhere, as well as what looked like pillow stuffing and a shredded leash.

“Oh, Beastie,” Tabby murmured and caught the puppy before she could dash out the open door. She picked up the dog, who was no longer barking shrilly but lavishing her chin with wet licks, and turned her back on the mess. She relocked the door behind her and set the puppy on the brown grass, hoping that she’d tinkle.

Instead, the animal started to take off after a blowing leaf, and Tabby caught her up again just in time to keep her from running into the street. “You need a new leash. A chain one this time.”

With the dog standing on her passenger seat, front paws propped on the dashboard, Tabby drove to her brother’s vet practice. His office manager told Tabby he was out on a call, but she was still able to buy a leash there, a tie chain and a few chew toys. Then she drove back to the diner and fixed Beastie up with the chain outside the rear door.

“It’s not perfect,” she said, crouching down beside the little dog to scratch her ears. “But you’ve been cooped up inside long enough. Now you can chase all the leaves you want while I finish up here, and the chain will keep you from running out where you’re not supposed to be.” The puppy yapped and bounced up to lick Tabby’s face again, then snatched the squeaky chew toy when Tabby tossed it.

With the dog happily occupied, she went inside.

Bubba had finished the oven repair and had taken up where Tabby had left off on the coffee brewer.

“I can finish that if you want to take off.”

“Nah. Nearly done, anyway.” He picked up a jug of water and poured it in the brewer. “Run a few gallons of water through it, she’s good as new.”

Tabby sat on a stool. “And the oven? You think the new heating element will keep it going for a while, or is it time to start thinking replacement?” The oven had been ancient even when Tabby began working at the diner so many years ago. “With the space it takes up, we could have something newer and a lot more efficient.”

He grunted in agreement. “Yeah. But newer ain’t always better. ’N’ you’ve been baking cinnamon rolls in there for more years than I remember.”

“Ruby told me she bought that oven secondhand the very first year she turned a profit on this place. Back then she used it for everything. Not just the rolls.” Tabby propped her chin on her hand, staring blindly at the diner around her. “Maybe the reason the rolls are so popular is because I’m still using her old oven.”

Bubba snorted and poured another jug of water through the brewer. “Maybe the reason is ’cause you make great rolls and any old oven would do.”

She chewed the inside of her lip. “So, you think it might be time to give up on old...habits?”

He gave her a strange look. “I’m saying any working oven’ll do.” He finished draining the brewer one last time and dumped the water down the sink. “And the brewer’s done, so I’m outta here, unless you got somethin’ else you need me to do.”

She shook her head. You go on, Bubba.” She knew he was cooking for Vivian Templeton that evening. “Thanks.”

He lifted his hand in a wave and disappeared through the swinging doors to the kitchen. A moment later, she heard the back door slam shut. It opened a second later, though. “You know you got a pooch chained up out here,” he yelled.

“Yes, I do, Bubba. See you in the morning.”

Her answer was the slam of the metal door again.

She pushed off the stool and finished tidying up, then went to check on the dog. Beastie had managed to wind her chain around the base of the picnic table, limiting her range. “You’re making things hard on yourself, little girl. Trust me. I recognize the tendency.” She unclipped the puppy from the chain and carried her to the car, setting her on the passenger seat again. “Now you’ve got to behave,” she warned. “Just because my car is old doesn’t mean I want you chewing or peeing on the seats.”

The puppy cocked her head then yipped and jumped onto Tabby’s lap.

“Wish everyone were as agreeable as you.” Tabby kissed the dog’s silky head and set her aside again before driving all the way to the shipping office in Braden. With the leashed dog by her side, she went inside and mailed off her paintings. Then she picked up some Chinese takeout for her supper and drove back to Weaver, though she had to stop halfway there to put the takeout containers in the trunk, because Beastie kept trying to nuzzle her way into them.

The sun was nearly down by the time she got home. Justin’s truck was parked in front of the triplex.

She blew out a breath as she pushed open the car door and gathered the puppy in her arms. “Come on, little girl. Time for you to go home.” She nudged the car door closed with her hip, walked reluctantly to the Justin’s apartment and knocked.

He answered immediately, reminding her much too vividly of the last time she’d knocked on his door. “Here.” She held the puppy out to him. “Mrs. Wachowski called me about the barking.”

“She told me.”

“Get a kennel cage,” she advised. “Before she chews her way through everything you own. She also needs toys. And her shots if she hasn’t had them yet.”

“How would I know if she’s had her shots?”

She smiled tightly. “Ask Gillian.” She started to walk away. Then swore under her breath and looked back at him. “I can watch the dog for you in the afternoon after I close up the diner. She’s a baby. She’s lonely. And I don’t particularly want to have to replace the furniture for the next renter.” She continued on her way.

“Tabby—”

Even though she’d been determined not to react to him, she felt her nerves tighten. “Don’t have time to talk,” she lied. “I’m on my way over to my parents’.”

“You didn’t used to be a coward.”

Her jaw tightened. If she were a coward, she never would have kissed him the way she had the other night. She was, however, an idiot for having done so. Even now, her skin felt as though it was burning with humiliation beneath her clothes. But she turned and faced him again, propping her hand on her hip impatiently. “What?”

“Erik added you to the bank account for the diner.”

It was the very last thing she expected him to say. “What?”

“All you need to do is sign a card at the bank tomorrow.”

She dropped her hand from her hip. “What are you talking about?”

“The diner.”

“I know you mean the diner! Why would he do that? Everything worked perfectly well the way it was.”

“Because I told him it was stupid when you ran everything else there, and he agreed. Why are you looking all pissed off?” He closed the puppy inside and headed toward her on the sidewalk. “I thought you’d be happy. You don’t have to wait on Erik every time you need to pay a bill.”

“How many times do I have to say that our system worked just fine? And why are you suddenly acting interested in the way the diner is run?”

“I thought you’d be happy,” he repeated. “Dammit, Tabby, what do you want from me? You act like you still hate me. Then you think I lied about Gillian. Then you plant that...that kiss—”

“It was a mistake,” she said quickly, before he could go any further. “A stupid mistake.”

“But—”

“I’ve really got to go. You know how mom hates dinner to be late.” A ridiculous statement, considering her mother’s easygoing personality. Tabby continued backing away. “Evan can get you a kennel. Maybe even loan you one while you’re here.”

“Tabby—”

She turned on her heel and jogged the short distance to her car, proving she really was a coward after all. “I’ll talk to Erik about the bank account,” she said and quickly got in, cranking the engine so hard a belch of smoke came out the tailpipe.

She backed out onto the street and drove away.

* * *

She saw the red glow of his cigarette before she made out the shape of him sitting in the dark on her front porch.

She’d killed as much time at her folks’ house as she could without drawing suspicion. As it was, while she helped her mother wrap Christmas gifts, she’d had to derail Jolie’s none-too-subtle remarks about “things” she’d been hearing around town concerning Tabby and Justin. Hiding out there any longer than she had would only have made it worse. It was nearly ten and her parents knew she was the poster child for early to bed, early to rise.

And, evidently, Tabby could only be a coward for so long before even she found herself intolerable.

She closed the car door and clasped the sides of her coat together in front of her, walking slowly toward him. “You don’t seem to be giving them up.”

The red glow moved upward and flared briefly as he took a drag. “Don’t seem to be,” he agreed. “You going to talk to me now, or what?”

It was annoying how quickly her throat went tight.

She reached the porch step and sat down beside him. The second she did, she felt a wet canine nose nudge at her hand. “Hi, Beastie.” The puppy climbed onto her lap, and Tabby rubbed her fingertips against her smooth coat.

“It’s a fitting name,” he said. “She ate one of my shoes this afternoon.”

“Get a proper kennel cage.”

“I did. She figured out how to unfasten the latch.”

“Admittedly brilliant on her part.” The dog started crawling up her chest. “But more likely that you didn’t fasten the latch properly.”

“You want to tell me what that was about the other night?”

She shook her head, which, given the darkness and the fact that her porch light wasn’t on, was pretty useless as a form of communication. “Not really.” Then she sighed and pushed to her feet, still holding the pup. “I don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there, but my butt is already freezing.” She stepped around him and unlocked her front door. “If you’re coming in, leave the cigarette outside.”

A moment later, he followed her inside, squinting a little at the light she turned on. She set the dog on the floor. “Be nice.”

“That a warning for the dog or for me?”

She pulled off her coat and dropped it over one of the couch arms, and then toed off her tennis shoes. “Maybe for all three of us. You want something to drink?”

“What’re you offering?” He removed his leather jacket and left it on top of her coat.

“Arsenic?” She smiled thinly and went into the kitchen. “I have water and—” she pulled open the refrigerator door “—diet soda and one beer.” She reached for the beer before he even answered.

“Beer.”

She closed the refrigerator and twisted off the cap, handing him the bottle. Then she filled a cereal bowl with some water and set it on the floor for Beastie. “I’m sorry about the other night,” she said abruptly. She made a face. “Kissing you like that. It was—” Dumb? Foolish? Fruitless? “Was, um, wildly inappropriate.”

He straddled one of her bar stools. His violet eyes studied her while he took a drink from the bottle. “Why?” he asked when he lowered it.

“Why what?”

“Why inappropriate?”

She pressed her tongue against her teeth, searching for an answer. “Because.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Because...why?”

She let out a breath and left the kitchen, restlessly going down the hall into her studio.

He followed, scooping up Beastie when she tried to go between his feet. Holding the dog, he leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb. She didn’t know if he did it to block her exit or not, but the result was the same either way. She plucked several brushes out of the empty can where she’d left them to dry and began organizing them.

“Tabby.”

She abruptly swept all of the brushes into a drawer and slammed it shut. “It’s inappropriate because we’re not—” She didn’t look at him as she waved her hand. “You know. Not that kind of friends. Kissing kind of friends.”

He remained silent, which only added to the embarrassment burning through her.

She switched her restless attention to the closest stack of paintings against the wall. Her throat felt tighter than ever as she moved them needlessly from one wall to another.

Justin watched the overhead light shining on her dark hair as she worked. Until he’d messed things up with her four years ago, she’d been a staple in his life. But he wasn’t a complete idiot. She was beautiful. He’d always been aware of that. But as she’d said, they weren’t that kind of friends. So, aside from his enormous onetime transgression, he’d always done his best to ignore her appeal. Because that’s the way she wanted it.