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Unlike me, who excels at evading. “Like Jake said, I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy for me?”
“Nope. Just”—I wave a vague hand around—“life. Work. It’s not easy starting fresh somewhere.”
“Exactly.” Her brown eyes go soft. “I totally get it. At least, I want to try to get it. I know things were strained between us before you left. I’m not really sure why, not that it matters. You’re home now, and I want to help you adjust. I want my best friend back,” she says more quietly.
My heart feels like it’s in a vise clamp, pressure slowly squeezing the uncooperative organ.
There was a time I wouldn’t hesitate to open my arms. Beckon her in. Hug and console this woman who used to be my other half. But the urge to run my nose up her ear strikes, to splay my hand on her lower back, feel her soft body molded to mine, my thigh pushing between hers as I—
“We’ll go for drinks soon,” I say and stalk away.
We won’t. I don’t trust myself around Jolene. I have no clue why, all these years later, she still makes me feel ravenous yet tender. Discombobulated. Having one-on-one time with her won’t help my plan to reunite her and Jake. Which is fine. Operation Jake Wins Back Jolene goes into high gear tomorrow. Once they’re in love and happy, my body will remember where it belongs—far away from my former best friend.
chaptertwo
Callahan
Keeping secrets in Windfall is akin to hiding a fireworks show. The first year we moved here, I was ten, and my youngest brother, Edgar—or, as we call him, E—was seven. That fall, he was the only person not invited to his classmate Leo Whitaker’s birthday party. Kids can be cruel, and I believed in justice served. As such, Leo’s celebration ended with shrieks and screams when several black racer snakes mysteriously slithered through the gathering.
Afterward, I told one guy in the gym locker room I was responsible for the bedlam. I’m not sure which classmate overheard us or who took it upon himself to widely blab my heroics. Whoever snitched, by the time school was out, my mother was standing outside the front doors, her arms crossed, indignation clear as she said, “No son of mine pulls a prank and gets away with it.”
Chelsea Bower is as solid as moms get.
My punishment was to make dinner every night for a month, which wasn’t as arduous as she assumed. Mom hated cooking for her five hungry boys, but I didn’t mind chopping and frying. So I learned how to make chili and tacos and different kinds of pasta.
I also learned this town can’t be trusted.
People in Windfall ingest more gossip than coffee. They’d rather spread I-heard-it-first bombshells than win the lottery. So, I’m meeting my hired spy in plain sight. It’s our first face-to-face meeting since we started working together. Trying for covertness today will only draw scrutiny. As far as anyone in the town square is concerned, I’m sharing a bench with a random lady, while I read a copy ofThe Bourne Identityand she reads Windfall’s local paper,The Jangler.
I hold my book in front of my face. “I trust you’re well.”
She doesn’t glance my way. Just snaps her paper, lifting it higher. “I am.”
“Thank you for helping organize Lennon’s first date with Maggie. The rose and free dessert helped set the mood.”
“Of course.”
“And for finding E when he ran off on Delilah. None of us expected my father’s autobiography news. That was excellent last-minute work.”
“It’s my job.”
Honestly, Sandra was a find. When I decided to hire someone, I did research on the recent transplants to Windfall. Not only had she worked at a security firm for forty-plus years, she was unattached and had a reputation for discretion and hard work. Her eighties perm was a bit conspicuous, but she was an average-looking white woman who didn’t stand out in a crowd.
Through her, I helped fund Ben’s gallery. Jolene has no clue how many times I’ve eased her burdens and given her a moral boost. As each of my brothers returned to town, Sandra was my eyes and ears on the ground, allowing me to ensure their mistakes didn’t derail their plans to woo their former flames. Except with Desmond. Shockingly, he handled himself fine on his own.
Even though I’m back in town, her assistance remains invaluable. “Jolene needs some gentle prodding to open up to Jake,” I tell Sandra.
She flips a page ofThe Jangler, awaiting further instruction.
“Too much force doesn’t work with her,” I go on. “She’s stubborn and independent and doesn’t take kindly to others forcing her hand.” Like the time she was too nervous to try out for our school track team, and I secretly signed her up. She recognized my writing and punched me in the kidney. “We need to use subtlety,” I add.
Sandra flips another page, angling away from me. “I could break something at her bar. Jake would have to go in and fix it.”
That scheme would force their proximity, but I could never purposely cause Jo stress. “A rumor is the better angle. Find key people and let it slip that Jolene has been caught staring at Jake. Then suggest to others that Jake won’t look at any woman but her.”
“That could be too subtle.”
