Champagne and Lemon Drops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary Romance (6 page)

Beth threw her arms in the air, trying to
act cavalier when all she wanted to do was rip the heads off of
everyone who had turned to eavesdrop. "You got me!" She let out a
laugh. "Nash and I are bumping uglies on the side. That's why I
moved out."

Eyebrows shot up around the room and
whispers stirred the air like a breeze through dry grass.

"You know what?" Nash said casually, his jaw
tight. "It's a beautiful spring day. Why don't we go outside to
eat?" He stood and clamped a hand on Beth's arm, helping her stand.
The sun shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows to her right,
and small mounds of slush hid on the shaded stone benches. It was
going to be chilly out there, but definitely better than staying in
front of the firing squad.

"Outside would be fantastic." She hoisted
her tray. "Send your husband my regards, Mary Alice. I hope his ear
is feeling better soon. Lovely talking to you, ladies."

Catty cows.

Nash led her outside and past the cold
tables and benches. Curious, Beth followed him to a bench resting
in a patch of sun under a grove of trees. Nash worked to balance
his tray on his lap, then giving up, placed it to the side and held
the bowl at chest level, carefully spooning stew into his
mouth.

"So," Nash asked casually, his cheeks pink.
"I'm part of the rumor mill now?"

"Oh, shoot. Sorry, Nash." Beth placed a hand
on his arm. "I was just so pissed off. But don't worry. They won't
believe me." She let out a laugh. "Me with a city boy? No offense,
but not on your life."

***

Beth sat on the passenger side in Nash's
shiny BMW and waited for him to finish gassing the car so they
could leave town. She tried not to pet the leather seat peeking out
from under her. It was so smooth. So soft and luxurious it made her
feel as though she should be dressed up in a ball gown and on her
way to some fancy fundraiser where people gave cheek kisses as
freely as hellos. She inhaled the car's aroma, certain the new car
smell enveloping her was from the interior's lack of age rather
than a tree-shaped air freshener like her Gran used to keep in her
Plymouth. Plus, the scent of Nash's car didn't make her feel ill in
the way Gran's car had on a hot summer's day.

Nash slid into the driver's seat, a gust of
cool morning air following him in. "All gassed up. Sorry, I should
have filled the tank before picking you up. It completely slipped
my mind. I'm still not used to being so far from everything and
having to worry about gas."

"That's okay," she sipped the takeout coffee
he passed her. "I'd rather wait than be stuck in the middle of
nowhere."

"How is it?" he asked, waiting while she
took another sip of her coffee. "I chose the freshest looking brew,
but none of it looked great."

"It's fine." The coffee was hot and a bit
bitter, but it was warm and caffeinated. Perfect for an early
morning drive to the city. She smiled over the brim of her cup. He
seemed as nervous as she was.

He cranked the engine and an almost-silent
purring filtered into the cab.

"Have you been to one of these before?" she
asked. The way he had been talking about the outreach training and
info sessions and got everything organized for them so quickly she
figured he had to have been to a million of them.

"Yes. I helped get an outreach started
during one of my practicums while I was in med school."

She looked out the window as they pulled out
of the gas station and tried not to shrink down in her seat as
community members gawked at her riding alongside Nash. He nattered
on about the expertise of the people running the information
sessions and Beth's mind drifted. She was going to miss her first
coffee date with Oz tomorrow. What if he was ready to ask her back,
but she wasn't there to leap into his arms?

But he'd told her to go follow her dreams,
too—if only to make him feel better about his own adventures. And
although opening an outreach for community members wasn't a dream
she'd always had, the idea of doing something new with her job was
exciting. Plus, maybe if she didn't show up for their coffee date
Oz would realize how much he actually needed her and that his feet
were, in reality, plenty warm.

"Do you think he's going to need a long
time?" Beth asked out loud.

"The speaker? They usually have three hour
sessions with a break in the middle."

"I meant... never mind."

"...Oz?" he asked gently.

She nodded, watching the mountains give way
to foothills and meadows as they drove further from town.

"I mean... have you ever talked to anyone
who had a temporary break before they got married? Did it work
out?"

Nash frowned and shook his head. "I haven't.
But you know, Oz has been through a lot lately. It's not uncommon
for people our age to need a bit of time to figure out what they
want in life. I think it's admirable that he's doing that. You
wouldn't believe the people I've seen with health problems because
they've swallowed the truth about their lives for so long. It's
like it festers inside." He turned to her, his blond hair glowing
in the early morning light.

"He said everyone has a secret dream." She
turned to him, curious. "Do you have one?"

Nash smiled, his teeth straight and narrow.
"Not so secret with me. I want to move up the chain."

"Oh, right." She felt silly forgetting that
maybe other people's dreams weren't so secret and under wraps—kind
of like hers.

"How about you?"

"Not so secret either. I want a family."

"Kids?"

She nodded.

"What else?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Her
back muscles tightened.
Don't tell me
another man is going to tell me there's more to life than a good,
fulfilling job in a small town and a table crowded with people you
love.

"There's got to be something else, right?"
There was a tentative uncertainty in his question. "I mean, you
like to help people." She gave a noncommittal shrug, waiting to
hear him out. "I can see it when you work with your patients.
That's one of the reasons I know you're going to rock this outreach
thing. Not only will it be fulfilling, but it'll look great on your
resumé."

"And fill a community need," she
reminded.

"And heck, maybe you'll discover your dream
is to open a private outreach or become one of those consultants
we'll see today. They've got to make some serious coin."

"I'd miss my CCPs."

"Your what?"

"Continuing care patients." How could she
explain that working with the elderly settled that scared feeling
she had inside? How it gave her hope seeing people live long,
fulfilling lives.

Plain and simple, she couldn't. She'd
managed to explain it to Oz once, but that's because he knew her.
He knew her history, her whole life, and could fill in the pieces
that even she didn't understand. To explain everything from start
to finish to an outsider felt like too much work. Besides, she
liked how he saw her in a different light without all her history
and baggage. He just saw her as she stood today. Nobody else in
Blueberry Springs would have suggested that she open an outreach
and fulfill the area's need for outpatient recreational therapy.
But he did.

And she liked that. A lot. And she didn't
want to spoil it.

"But you never know," she said. "Keep
throwing ideas at me. I liked the first one!" She grinned and
admired the way his quads flexed under their denim covering as he
shifted gears to climb the last big hill before leaving the
mountains. Two days of blissful peace away from the gossip and
advice in Blueberry Springs.

Chapter 5

Beth shifted from foot to foot while waiting
outside the trailer she'd called home for almost two and a half
years, waiting for her courage to catch up with her. She hesitated
with her fist raised against the inner wood door. It was so odd to
knock.

Tucking the dirt bike magazine under her arm
she adjusted the screen door and knocked. After her fifth knock the
trailer door swung inward revealing Oz, groggy and unshaven. She
used to find his morning look sexy, but there was something off
about his appearance that made her pause.

"Hey," she said. "I brought this for you."
She handed him the magazine.

He gave her a small smile. She gave a little
bounce on the balls of her feet. She couldn't wait to tell him all
about the outreach program session she'd attended with Nash.
Between the speaker and Nash, they'd convinced her she should start
a program. The organizer had handed her everything she needed—it
was like being handed a program in a box and all she had to do was
unpack it over the next couple of months.

"I thought we agreed we'd check in on
weekends only," he asked, leaning against the door. He looked
concerned and as though he was about to do something he knew he'd
regret.

She paused and said carefully, "I missed the
weekend and wanted to talk to you about something."

He let the door swing open and moved to the
kitchen just off the entry. Beth blinked as she took in the
disheveled room. Beer cans and empty pizza boxes. Poker night had
obviously been reinstated. She sat at the table across from Oz and
he leaned back in his chair and watched her, arms crossed like he
was protecting himself. Feeling self-conscious in her work clothes
while he was in a pair of sweats and a tee, she kept her eyes on
the opened bottle of Johnny Walker. It sat next to a melted tray of
ice cubes and a shot glass. Whisky was not Oz's usual drink of
choice.

"Is this a bad time?" Most mornings he was
showered and finishing breakfast by now. "Maybe I should have
waited until Sunday?"

"It's fine." He continued to stare at
her.

She squinted at him. "Aren't you going to
work?"

He shook his head. He looked sad.

She opened her mouth to tell him he had to
work, but quickly switched to something less likely to cause a
fight. "How was your weekend?"

"Fine." His arms tightened across his chest.
"Yours?" His jaw flexed and Beth drew in a long, slow breath,
feeling as though she had parachuted into a minefield.

"I wanted to tell you about that," she
began. All weekend she'd wanted to text him about her plans and
ideas, but had held off as part of their agreement. This morning,
while getting ready for work, she'd just about bubbled over from
excitement thinking of how she was heading over to share her news
with her best friend. But now she wasn't sure how to dive in when
he seemed inexplicably peeved.

"I've already heard all about your weekend,"
he said, his eyes shutting like he was dealing with a sharp
pain.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine."

She met his eye. "Are you sure? You don't
look too good."

"I'm Fine."

She really wanted his advice and approval
about the outreach—especially since it would affect his weekends
once they were back together, too. "Do you think it's a good
idea?"

Oz gave her a hard look that was difficult
to decipher. The vibe coming off him told her something was wrong.
Really, really wrong.

"What?" she asked, unease settling over her
like an itchy wool sweater.

"Giving your ring back, moving out, then
telling the town you're doing it with the new doctor followed by
taking off to the city to spend all weekend with him? Don't you
think that might be what's wrong?"

Beth's skin grew cold. "I was joking."

"Nobody's laughing."

Her face heated with guilt. She never would
have guessed that he would assume the worst from any rumors that
surfaced about her. He was usually so good about ignoring rumors
and saying there had to be another side to the story.

"It was a training session. I'm starting an
outreach program." She tried to meet his eyes, begging him to
believe her. To trust her. To know her heart was still his.

"It's only a break, Beth. We're still
exclusive. We're still engaged."

"I know that! Jesus could you trust me a
little? What the hell?"

"I'm finding it a little hard right
now."

"Oz! I was joking for Christ's sake!" Beth
slammed her hands on the table and stood.

"You're not the kind of girl who jokes about
that kind of thing!" Oz stood, his face red. He grabbed the bottle
of whisky and took a swig, his face contorting as he swallowed.

Beth planted her hands on the tabletop and
leaned forward. "Do you know how hard the rumor mill is working me
over right now? Do you have any idea how much their probing and
speculation hurts?"

He pointed a finger at her. "You're the one
who chose to leave your ring here. You're the one who chose to move
out! You're the one who chose the doctor."

"I didn't choose him!" She slapped her hands
on the table and leaned forward, glaring at Oz. "Do you really
think I could have stayed here without you and that I'd choose some
city man? I moved out because you wanted me out of your life!"

He stood, echoing her posture, bringing them
almost nose-to-nose. "I don't want you out of my life, dammit!"

"You broke up with me! You didn't tell me
until it was too late that you wanted to change your life. You
didn't give me a chance."

"It's a goddamned break so I can get my shit
together!" His breath pushed against her face.

"You don't even love me—"

Oz grabbed her face in his large hands and
shoved his lips against hers, silencing her. He kissed her slowly
and with meaning. Legs trembling from the effort of leaning over
the table, she collapsed against the tabletop when he released
her.

"What was that?" she whispered.

"The truth."

She looked up at his soft brown eyes, the
burn of Johnny Walker still on her tongue. She blinked and shook
her head, avoiding his gaze. She slid into her chair, trying to
make sense of him, his thoughts, his actions. Why was he kissing
her with his 'I want to take you to bed' kiss when he'd been so
blatantly clear about them being chaste? About her not tempting him
because he needed space to think.