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“And I’ll pick out a winner. Anyway, Gwen, I’m wondering if you can help me. Bryce here is looking for work.”
“Really?” Gwen asked with a frown. Bryce smiled. So far, no objections from him.
“I know how busy you are,” Colleen said.
“That’s true. But I’m not sure about, um, a straight guy.”
At that moment, the door to a dressing room opened, and a woman came out in—surprise—a wedding gown. Very poufy, and so tight you had to wonder how she’d sit down. Then again, Lucas knew enough about women to know that comfort was pretty low on the list when it came to dressing up.
“Hey. Howyoudoing?” Bryce said. “You look amazing.”
“Um...hi. Really?” the woman said nervously. “I’m not sure.”
“Are you kidding? This is...yeah.” He nodded appreciatively.
“I do like it,” the bride said, fluffing the skirt as she looked in the mirror. “It’s just that I’m not sure. There was this dress I saw in Buffalo—”
Bryce shook his head. “I don’t know what that one was like, but this one just rocks it. Your guy is really,reallylucky. Wow. You arebeautiful.”
The bride glanced at Bryce and smiled. Looked back at herself.
Gwen and Colleen exchanged a look.
Ten minutes later, Gwen had sold an eight-thousand-dollar dress and Bryce had a job.
Okay, so it might not be the profession Lucas would’ve picked—bridal-gown consultant—but he wasn’t about to argue.
“This is so awesome, guys!” he said as they emerged into the sunlight. “And I get to look at beautiful women all day!” He held his hand up for a high five, and Colleen obliged. “Hey, I gotta run. Gonna go wash some doggies at the animal shelter.” He loped off down the street.
“You can thank me now,” Colleen said.
“Thank you,mía.”
Alongside the store was a little alley where they’d kissed once, before they’d been sleeping together, when things were still new. She had taken him by the hand and pulled him in here one summer night, that bittersweet summer between high school and college, and kissed him until his entire being throbbed with wanting her and he couldn’t form actual thoughts, reduced to the primal state of one need, with one girl.
This one.
He reached out and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, trailing his finger along her earlobe.
“Knock it off,” she said unconvincingly, her voice husky.
He leaned in closer, nostalgia and present-day wanting getting the better of him.
Then her phone buzzed, and she jumped two feet backward. “Sign from God,” she said. “See you around, Spaniard.”
With that, she ran across the street to the bakery, to the safety of pastries and her friend.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ONEOFTHEbest things about Manningsport—aside from the vineyards and the green and the lake and the cute downtown and Lorelei’s cranberry-orange muffins, and O’Rourke’s, of course—was the town softball league. It was fifty-three years old and had the unusual tradition of mixing players of all ages and both sexes on the teams. It was fiercely competitive, however. Hey. It was New York.
To play on the team, you had to try out. In other words, you had to begood. Connor, Colleen and Savannah played for the O’Rourke’s team—Savannah was the youngest player in town history to make the team. The kid couldhit.
And it was nice because Colleen and Connor got to play with their little sister. There weren’t too many occasions when the three of them did something together, as Connor kept his distance from Dad and Gail. The Friday night dinners were about it, so when it was game night, both Con and Colleen took the night off to demonstrate the O’Rourke supremacy.
Tonight, however, Stoakes Candy Store was short a player. As manager, Coll had made the great sacrifice and offered to play for the competition. She donned the candy store shirt; the Stoakes team’s slogan was an insipidStoakes Candy & Baseball: A Sweet Deal.Not nearly as cool as her own team’s:O’Rourke’s: Smiting the Rest of You Since 2009.Because yes, they were always the town champs. Colleen was pretty great at baseball; Connor was better, and though it was Savannah’s first year, she had first round draft pick written all over her.
Savannah played in the regular Little League, too, but she loved the game and begged Dad and Gail to let her play on the town league, too. The more baseball, the better. At first, people had been kind of sweet to her, throwing soft pitches last summer...right up until they had to hit the dirt to avoid her wicked line drive. At the ripe old age of nine, Savannah could throw out a runner attempting to steal second. Her batting average was .378 this year, and that was hitting against grown men. On-base percentage? Please. .479.
