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“No, he was with Ron and his wife.”
Ron was Harry’s older brother.
“Is everything all right with you and Harry?” Tara asked.
“He seemed a little down.”
“I should probably call him.” Sky felt a twinge of guilt. She had hardly thought of Harry since she had come home. “We didn’t part on the best of terms.”
“You didn’t have a fight, did you?”
“Not exactly. He wanted to come to California with me, and I told him I wanted to be alone.”
“Ah. Well, you know how men are. They try to be so macho, but inside, they’re cream puffs.”
“Right,” Sky said, laughing. “So, what else is going on?”
“I have news,” Tara said. “I’m just not sure this is the right time to share it.”
“So, we’ve finally come to the real reason you called.”
“I think I’ll save it until you get back here.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. Come on, Tara Louise Reed, spit it out.”
“Well ... Lance asked me to marry him!”
“He did? When?”
“Last night. It was so romantic. We went to dinner and then he surprised me with tickets to Wicked. You know I’ve been dying to see it.” She blew out an exaggerated sigh. “He proposed during intermission.”
“That’s wonderful! When’s the big day?”
“Not until you get back here where you belong. After all, I can’t very well get married without my maid of honor, can I?”
“Are you asking me?”
“Of course. Who else would I ask? Anyway, we haven’t set a date yet, but it probably won’t be for at least a couple of months. I have to buy a dress, find a church and a caterer, pick out invitations, and get them in the mail. Bridesmaid dresses. I was thinking about lavender for the bridesmaids and maybe a darker shade for you. What do you think?”
“Whatever you want is fine with me. As long as it’s not yellow!”
Tara laughed. “No yellow, I promise. Anyway, all that takes time. And money. And planning.”
“Everything will work out. You’ll be a beautiful bride.”
“I know,” Tara said, and then giggled. “Oh, but that sounds vain, doesn’t it? But you know, all brides are beautiful. Listen, I’ve gotta go. CJ is calling me. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“Sure. And Tara? It was great hearing from you. Thanks for calling.”
“Hang in there, girlfriend.”
“Will do. Bye.”
Sky felt better after disconnecting the call. She wasn’t really alone in the world. She had Tara and a few other friends at work. She had Harry, if she wanted him. But did she want him? Maybe she should have invited him to come home with her ...
She shook her head. The fact that she didn’t want Harry there, didn’t need him there, spoke volumes about their relationship.
Going into the kitchen, she refilled her coffee cup, then went back into the living room and sank down on the sofa, one leg tucked beneath her. Picking up the newspaper, she read the headlines and the funnies, checked the want ads, then curled up on the sofa and closed her eyes.
When she woke, it was late afternoon. She lay there for a few minutes, listening to the gentle patter of the rain on the roof, remembering how Granda had always made hot chocolate with lots of mini marshmallows for her and Sam whenever the weather turned cold or wet.
Smiling with the memory, she stood and stretched her arms over her head. After fixing herself a cup of hot chocolate, she added a generous helping of marshmallows, then sat at the kitchen table and wrote a letter to Sam. She wrote him every week. She didn’t mail the letters, of course, since no one knew where he was. Instead, she kept the correspondence in a shoe box. She would give it to him when he got home so he would know what had happened while he was gone, and that she had been thinking of him.
After finishing the letter, she returned to the living room. She switched on a light, then moved to the front window to watch the rain.
“What on earth?” Leaning forward, she blinked and blinked again. Kaiden Thorne was mad, she thought, completely mad. Clad in a pair of leopard-print swim trunks and nothing else, he was sitting on the grass in his front yard, pulling the weeds that grew along the edge of the driveway.
As though feeling her gaze, he looked up and glanced across the street. Then he lifted his arm and waved her over.
“Is he kidding?” she muttered when he repeated the gesture. “Well, why not? It’s only water, and I don’t have anything else to do.”
Feeling suddenly lighthearted, she slipped on a jacket and a pair of fur-lined boots and ran across the street. Too late, she realized she should have worn a raincoat, or at least brought an umbrella. The rain was coming down harder than she’d thought.
“Are you crazy?” she asked as she slogged across the wet grass. “It’s raining cats and dogs out here.”
He shrugged. “I was bored. The weeds needed pulling, and it’s easier when the ground is damp.”
“Damp!” she exclaimed, glancing at the thick black clouds overhead. “I think there’s a monsoon coming.”
He laughed at that, a big masculine laugh that had her joining in as she hunkered down beside him.
“So, what have you been doing this blustery day?” he asked as he pulled another weed and dropped it into a bucket.
“Moping. Feeling sorry for myself. Wishing I knew where Sam was. Missing Granda.” She shrugged. “Just generally having a pity party, I guess.”
“Well, you picked a good day for it.” He glanced up. “The angels are crying, too.”
“My grandmother used to say that whenever it rained.”
“You really are down, aren’t you?” Rising, he took her by the hand and pulled her to her feet. “Come on, let’s see if we can change that.”
Startled, she let him lead her up the steps to the porch and into the house.
“First, we need to get you into some dry clothes before you catch your death.”
Shivering, she wrapped her arms around her waist. “I can go home and change, you know. It isn’t that far.”
“Nope, I’m not letting you out of my sight. Besides, the rain’s coming down in buckets.” Moving toward the fireplace, he plucked a match from a container on the mantel and started a fire. Taking her by the hand, he led her closer to the hearth. “Stay here,” he said sternly, and left the room.
