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“Hi! Hope, um, hi,” I stuttered.
Tall and gorgeous, her cornflower blue eyes wide and wary, long blond hair blowing lightly in the breeze, she could have been a fashion model.
Maybe she was, I mentally shrugged. I had no idea what she did, who she was. The stranglehold of jealousy tightened around my throat.
She indicated the empty chair to my right, half behind my table. “May I sit down with you for a bit?” She held up a cardboard Tim Horton’s drink carrier. “I brought you a cold drink and a cookie. Um, Lucky said cookies are your weakness…” She trailed off.
Nervous. She was nervous. And I had made her that way.
Shame heated my cheeks.
I swallowed.
“Please,” I invited, waving to the chair.
“Yeah?” she checked.
“Yes,” I said firmly. Nodded. “Please sit.”
She released a breath and eased around the edge of the table, perching on the edge of the chair. “I, um, brought iced lemonade and iced cappuccino. I wasn’t sure which you preferred. I like both. I’ll take either. You pick first because I bought them for you. Well one of them. I mean, you can have both if you want,” she rushed to add.
“Hope, thank you for bringing me a cold drink. I appreciate it. But it’s the cookie that will really make or break this visit,” I teased gently.
She sat back in the chair, a rueful smile on her face.
“You got me.” She handed me the bag. “I got one of every flavor. I wasn’t taking any chances.”
I peeked in the bag, buying myself time.
Why is she here?
Is this where she tells me she has feelings for him?
Is this when she asks me to back off?
You’re the interloper. You intruded on their family. You’re practically a homewrecker. It’s immoral.
“You really did buy every kind.” I closed the bag and sighed. Looking into the distance, I asked, “Should I be nervous about whatever it is you came here to say?”
“I don’t think so?” she trailed off.
I met her eyes. “Are you going to ask me to walk away?” I didn’t add that I would because I was no longer sure I could.
Her eyes widened comically, and she waved her hands back and forth even as she sat forward. “No! No, no, no, I want you to come closer,” she stressed. “To me, I mean. Well, to Lucky, but to me as well.” She paused. “I’m not saying this well.” She smoothed her palms down her jeans. “I prepared something. Can I just read it to you?”
I’d never seen a more nervous woman in my life. Was this how she was normally? Was it the situation? Did I make her feel like this?
“Please relax. I don’t bite.”
She laughed, “For Lucky’s sake, I hope you do.” She clapped a hand over her eyes. “Oh, God! I’m sorry!” She deflated right in front of me, her face drained of animation. “Look. I have the same sense of humor as a teenage boy. I’m a tomboy. Always have been. I never had girlfriends as a kid because I wasn’t interested in the same things they were. By the time I hit my teens, I had all this to contend with,” she circled her finger in the air indicating her face and her body, “and the girls wouldn’t let me in. The boys changed as well, and not for the better. The ones that stuck around soon left when they got girlfriends.” She took a breath. “Except Lucky.”
“Hmm,” I hummed and opened my mouth to speak, but she continued.
“He never asked me for anything more than friendship. He also never dumped me.”
“He’s a good man,” I murmured.
She looked at me earnestly and replied fervently. “Heis. And there are things I want you to know. He has never had a serious girlfriend. Not ever. Since Brayleigh was born, I don’t even think he’s dated. I mean, he’s hooked up. A lot.” She stared at me, eyes wide with horror.
