The BFF Bride (13 page)

He abruptly set down the whiskey he’d been about to pour into a glass and reached instead for one of the fancy-looking bottles of water. It was the same brand that Gillian used to request whenever they’d gone out. He removed the pretentious cork top and took a long drink. As it always had before, the stupidly expensive stuff tasted no better than the tap water he’d grown up with.

His parents waylaid him before he could head Tabby’s way again, and he found himself enduring more Templeton introductions. So many, in fact, that he started regretting the water-over-whiskey choice. Then his aunt Rebecca and uncle Sawyer arrived, and she wanted to know how his space was working at the lab. He was in the middle of that conversation when a streak of red entered his line of sight.

“How
dare
you,” Tabby said, shoving his shoulder hard. “I’m
off the market
?” Her voice rose above the music and conversation, which dwindled to nothing in the wake of her furious words.

“Calm down. You’re overreacting.”

Her expression grew even angrier. “
You
are the biggest jerk I have ever known. Why I ever thought I—” She pressed her lips together, breathing hard. “You know what?” She waved her hand. “I’m done. I’m just done. Weaver obviously isn’t large enough for the two of us. I thought I could stick it out until you go back to Boston, but I was wrong.” She turned away so sharply that her hair spun out from her shoulders.

Not caring about the shocked attention they were getting, he grabbed her arm, halting her progress. “What do you mean, you’re
done
?”

She yanked out of his grip. Tears glittered in her eyes. “I mean I don’t want anything to do with you! I want you out of my triplex and out of my life.”

Panic slid through his gut. “That’s never gonna happen. Ruby’s—”

She pushed her shaking hands through her hair, raking it back from her face. “Forget Ruby’s! I want no part of it as long as you’re part of that equation. I
quit
!”

Chapter Thirteen

“I
warned everyone that no good would come outta that woman’s Christmas party last night.” Justin’s grandfather sat down across from him at the big round table in the Double-C’s kitchen. “But nobody wants to listen to an old man anymore.”

Gloria snorted softly. “Don’t try the poor-me tack, Squire. Nobody buys it.” She set a pitcher of syrup on the table next to the waffle she’d already given Justin. A waffle he didn’t want, but one he didn’t have the heart to deny.

Not when his grandmother and grandfather were the only ones who hadn’t basically slammed a door in his face.

His parents were furious.

His brother was livid.

The rest of the family had pretty much been disgusted. His uncle Matt—who ran the ranch and along with his wife lived in the big house with Squire and Gloria—had blandly suggested Justin bed down in the barn. He hadn’t been joking.

The howling puppy Justin had been trying to contain had received a better welcome. Jaimie had grabbed Beastie and disappeared upstairs with her, crooning softly.

Gloria had intervened on Justin’s behalf, though, ushering him personally down to the basement and one of the guest rooms there.

“Vivian didn’t do a thing,” his grandmother went on, taking the seat next to Justin.

“How do you know?” Squire demanded testily. “You weren’t there.”

“Only because I didn’t want you to work yourself into a heart attack if I went,” she countered mildly. “I’ve gotten enough accounts from everyone to feel like I was. Get off your high horse, dear. This isn’t about Vivian. It’s about Justin.”

“And Tabby.” His grandfather’s gaze pierced through him. “I’ve always had a soft spot for that little filly. What the hell did you do to her?”

Justin pushed aside his untouched plate. He didn’t even want to have breakfast with himself. Was it any wonder Matt and Jaimie had avoided him, too? Not even Beastie had found her way to his lap.

“Squire,” Gloria chided softly. “Barking won’t solve anything.” She covered Justin’s clenched fist with her cool palm. “I’m sure everything will work out.”

“Yeah,” Justin muttered. “Once I haul my ass back to Boston. Sorry, Grandma.”

She looked vaguely amused. “I’ve certainly heard worse. And from all accounts, you behaved like an ass last night. Fortunately, I have plenty of practice loving people who do that.” She slid her gaze to her husband as she squeezed Justin’s fist with one hand and moved the plate back in front of him with her other. “But not eating won’t help, either.”

“Only you have the gift of making me feel chastised and cherished all at the same time.”

Squire thumped the end of his walking stick against the wood floor. “That’s why I married her, boy.” He grinned at his own humor and actually winked at Gloria.

Justin scrubbed his hands down his face. “None of this would’ve happened if she’d have just come to Boston with me,” he muttered. He dropped his hands and stabbed his fork into the waffle, then realized that his grandparents were staring at him.

Gloria leaned toward him. “You asked Tabby to go to Boston?”

He set down the fork again. “For all the good it did. She turned me down. Flat. Cares more about the diner and Weaver than she does anything else.” He caught the look the two of them exchanged. “She was pretty clear,” he said in self-defense.

“But she quit managing the diner.” Gloria sat back. “In front of close to fifty people, it sounds like.”

“She doesn’t mean it.”

Neither Gloria nor Squire looked convinced.

“She doesn’t.” Justin’s tone was confident, but only because it stemmed from something that felt uncomfortably like desperation churning inside him. “Tomorrow morning comes around, she’ll be serving up those cinnamon rolls of hers at Ruby’s just like usual.”

* * *

She wasn’t.

The diner
did
open.

Bubba had seen to that, according to Erik, who came by the hospital Monday afternoon to lay into Justin again about the whole thing.

But Tabby had never shown. Bubba had assured Erik that she wasn’t going to, either, and had grimly produced the keys to the restaurant that Tabby’s brother had dropped off.

“What the hell went on between you, anyway?” Justin’s brother filled the doorway of the office he was using.

He shut the laptop and the damned report he was trying and failing to write. “Nothing that’s anyone else’s business.”

Erik gave him a look. “This is Weaver. You don’t want other people in your business, you shouldn’t be having scenes like you did the other night at that party.”

“Did you come here to offer any helpful advice or just to bust my chops some more?”

His brother’s expression darkened. “Dammit, Justin. This isn’t a joke.”

He stood so fast that the rolling stool he’d been using bounced off the wall and tipped onto its side. “You think I don’t know that?” He got into his brother’s face, staring him straight in the eye. “This is my
life
, Erik. When have you ever known me not to take that pretty freaking seriously?”

They were the same height, but his brother outweighed him by a good thirty pounds. Erik had always been patient. Peaceful. It was Justin who’d been an instigator, always trying to take down his older, brawnier brother. There’d been few times in their childhood when Erik hadn’t been able to flatten Justin just from his sheer strength. Until Justin had gotten smarter. Wilier. Used his brains against his brother’s brawn. Stopped trying to measure up in an area where he never could and started focusing on his own strengths. His own dreams.

Tabby had been the one to help him realize that.

His anger oozed out of him.

What was left was weariness.

He turned away from Erik, righted the stool and sat down on it. “She hates me.”

Erik glanced behind him at the hospital lab, then stepped into the office and closed the door. There wasn’t another seat, and he leaned back against the door, folding his arms over his chest and the visitor ID tag he was wearing. “Despite the somewhat overwhelming evidence, I kind of doubt it.”

“I never should’ve slept with her.”

Erik’s eyes sharpened. “So that’s it.” Then he smiled faintly and shook his head. “I always wondered. The two of you were as close as Frick and Frack when we were kids. Even when you left for college and took up with Nosebleed. So what’s the problem?”

“She won’t come to Boston.”

Erik’s eyebrows shot up. “You asked Tabby to marry you?”

“
What?
No!” Justin shoved off the stool again. The office was suddenly too claustrophobic with the door closed, but he didn’t want to open it and chance even more people overhearing his business.

“Well, what
did
you say?”

“I asked her to come! I got a ‘thanks, but no thanks’ in return.”

Erik rubbed his hand over his face, looking as though he was trying not to laugh.

It annoyed Justin as much now as it had when they were kids. “Glad I’m entertaining you, bro.”

Erik dropped his hand. “For a guy who runs circles around me in the brains department, you are an idiot.”

“Once again. Helpful.”

“Jesus, Justin. This isn’t rocket science or the cure to cancer. Are you in love with Tabby or not?”

“What good does it do me if I am?”

His brother’s eyes were laughing. “You’ve got fifty square feet in here, genius. Don’t need to yell.”

“I should’ve poisoned you with my chemistry set when we were kids.”

“I’d have seen you coming and just dumped you in the water trough.” Erik shook his head again and wrapped his arm around Justin’s neck in a hug disguised as a choke hold. “You’re a damn idiot, but you’re my brother and I love you. So I’m gonna help you even though I came here to kick your butt.”

He released the choke hold and pushed Justin toward the stool. “When you asked Tabby—and when I say
asked
, I’m playing fast and loose with the term—did you happen to mention the way you feel about her? I might not have a bunch of university diplomas on my walls, but I have learned a thing or two about women. And one is that you have to say the words!”

The spot between Justin’s shoulder blades itched. “Tabby knows me better than anybody.”

“Really?” Erik leaned back against the door again. “And I’ll bet you think you know her just as well.” He spread his arms. “How’s that working out for you?”

Justin pushed open his laptop again. “I’ll get her back to the diner.”

Erik swore. “If you think this is about the diner, you are even more dimwitted than I thought. And maybe you do deserve Nosebleed.” He yanked open the office door. “Fix it, Justin. Not for me. Not for Mom and Dad. Fix it for you. And for her.” Then he stepped out of the office and slammed the door.

* * *

“Tabby.” Jolie followed her from the bedroom back out to the living room. She’d shown up as soon as she heard Evan had dropped off Tabby’s keys with Bubba. “I know you’re upset. But that diner means everything to you. Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider quitting?”

Tabby set the cellophane tape she’d just retrieved on the coffee table and sat down on the floor. The only Christmas gifts she’d managed to get so far were for her nieces and nephew. At least she’d bought them before she’d quit her job. “I’m sure.” She unrolled the wrapping paper.

Her mom sat on the couch beside her, setting her hand on Tabby’s shoulder. “Honey.”

Tabby blinked away the moisture that glazed her vision. “I’m fine.”

Jolie sighed and moved her hand away. “I should have seen what was going on between you and Justin.”

“Why?” She sniffed and tore off a piece of tape, securing the festive red-and-green paper in place. “Not even Justin can see it.” She snapped off another piece. “Of course he’s an impossible male,” she added darkly.

“They all are at one time or another,” Jolie replied. “Even your father. It’s in their genetic code, I think. Just as being an impossible female at one time or another is in ours.”

Tabby’s lips twisted. “Fair-minded as always.”

“Have you, ah, spoken with him since—”

“Nope. No reason to. We’ve said more than enough.”

“Hope told me he’s staying at the Double-C.”

Her hands faltered for a moment. “Good place for Beastie,” she said. And Justin had always had a soft spot for his grandmother. And Gloria for him.

Tabby folded the ends of the paper, taped them down and finally pushed aside the wrapped box. “I’m not going to stay at your house on Christmas Eve this year. I’ll, uh, I’ll come over on Christmas Day instead.”

“I’m not losing your company on Christmas Eve because you’re afraid of running into Justin.”

“I’m not afraid,” she muttered. “But I embarrassed myself in front of everyone at Vivian Templeton’s party. I’d rather just—”

“Hide.”

She wasn’t going to deny it. “If that’s how you want to put it.”

“You’re my daughter. If it’s a choice between you and the Clays—”

“Don’t.” She pushed off the floor and paced around the couch. “You and Hope are like sisters. You’re not going to change a tradition I’ve known my entire life because of this. That’s exactly what I wanted to avoid!”

Her mom sighed. “Well. Christmas Eve is still five days away. We’ll figure it out.”

Jolie could do all the figuring she wanted. But it wouldn’t change Tabby’s mind.

“I’m just glad you’ve got income coming in from your paintings. But if you need money—”

“I’m not going to ask you for money,” Tabby cut her off before she could go any further. “I’m an adult. I have savings. And I’ll find another job.” She pushed her fingers into her pockets so her mom couldn’t see them shaking. “In fact, I have enough savings that maybe I should just open my own restaurant! It would have to be smaller than Ruby’s. But with the right space, the right staff?”

Instead of looking comforted, her mother just seemed even more alarmed. “Opening a restaurant is a huge undertaking.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it’s time I did something huge.” Besides sleeping with Justin or causing a scene in front of darn near the entire Clay family.

Jolie glanced at her watch and pushed off the couch. “I don’t want to go, but I’m doing a fitting with the mayor’s wife. She’s throwing a New Year’s Eve party for the town council.” She caught Tabby’s shoulders and gave her a steady look. “Don’t do anything rash.”

“Anything more rash than I already have, you mean?”

“Yes.” She kissed Tabby’s cheek. “Call me if you need me.”

“I’m fine, Mom.”

“Mmm.” She tucked her finger under Tabby’s chin. “I remember what it feels like when your heart is breaking. So you call your mother if you need her.”

Tabby’s eyes flooded, and she caught her mom in a fast, tight hug. “I’ll always need you,” she promised thickly. Then she let her go and sniffed hard. “Now go on for your appointment before we start bawling.”

“Tell me what you’re doing for the rest of the day.”

“I’m not going to throw myself off a cliff, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She gestured at the toys sitting on her coffee table. “I still have to finish wrapping these. And I never got around to putting up a Christmas tree here.” Her throat tightened again. She hadn’t needed to, because she’d already put up the tree at Ruby’s. “There’s a tree lot in Braden. I might drive over and get one.”

“For heaven’s sake. We always cut ours fresh from behind—”

“Rebecca and Sawyer’s house.” She shrugged. “I’d just rather buy one.” She wished she hadn’t even brought up the subject, which she’d only done in order to emphasize just how fine she supposedly was. “We’ll see.”

“If you’re going to go, don’t go too late. They’re calling for a winter storm by tonight.” Jolie looked at her watch again and muttered a soft oath.

Tabby opened the door and nudged her mom through the doorway, getting a gust of icy-cold wind in exchange. “Go. I am—ugh. I
will
be fine.” She’d been getting over Justin for years now. She ought to be used to the process by now.

She waited until her mother reached her SUV parked on the street before she closed the door and leaned back against it.

Who was she kidding?

She was never going to be used to anything when it came to Justin.