The Goodbye Bride (16 page)

“How are you feeling? Anything coming back to you yet?”

“My symptoms are gone, but nothing's come back. Not a single memory.” She sighed. “Maybe it'll never come back.”

“Is that what you want?”

Lucy made a face. “Well, it's no fun being in love with someone who wants you out of his life.”

She felt the weight of Eden's stare.“I'm sorry. That must behard.”

Another sizzle sounded, and a small white firework spread in the sky. On the corner of the patio Micah's sparkler fizzled out, and he begged Beau for another.

“Zac went out with Morgan Friday,” Lucy said quietly. She wasn't sure why she brought it up. Thinking about it only made her heart ache.

“I heard. I also heard she came by first to rub it in your face.”

“Where'd you hear that?”

Eden shrugged. “Small town. Not much gets by. Just ignore her. She thinks she's all that just because her daddy runs the newspaper. Far as I can tell, she doesn't do anything but paint her nails and lie out in the sun.”

“He took her the same place he took me on our first date. The same place we had our first kiss.”

“Wow. I'm sorry. I don't know what he sees in her.”

“Other than her mile-long legs and double Ds?”

“Please. She has nothing on you. And if it's any consolation, it's not like there's a whole bunch of restaurants to choose from around here. You go on a few dates, you've pretty much exhausted your options.”

“True enough.”

They went quiet as Beau sank into the seat beside Eden and slipped his arm around her. “Almost time.”

Eden laced her hand with Beau's as she gave Lucy a long, measured look. “Know what you need? You need a guy. Some one to take you out and get your mind off”—she seemed to check herself—“things.”

“Oh no, I don't—”

“What about Nick Donahue?” Eden said.

“What about him?” Miss Trudy asked as she came out onto the deck, Zac on her heels.

“Nothing,” Lucy said.

“We're fixing Lucy up,” Eden said at the same time.

Zac pulled the patio door shut and swatted at a mosquito hovering near his face. Eden's words were a sucker punch to his gut.

“Nick hasn't dated anyone since Paige,” Aunt Trudy said. “Comes from good stock.”

Now
she thought of something positive to say. Zac dropped into his seat, pressing his lips together.

“Isn't he a doctor?” Lucy asked.

“Pediatrician,” Eden said. “I took Micah to see him for his annual checkup. He's great with kids.”

Wasn't it about time for the fireworks? Zac took a big gulp of his soda.

“What do you think, Beau?” Eden asked. “You know him better than I do.”

“He's a nice enough guy. He was a couple years behind me in school, so I don't know him well. He's smart. Paige had nothing bad to say about him.”

“Did they go out for long?” Lucy asked.

No doubt she didn't want to step on Paige's toes. Zac squirmed in his seat.

“Only two or three times,” Miss Trudy said, no doubt happy for Lucy to be interested in anyone other than him. “They fit better as friends, she said. But I can see the two of you hitting it off.”

Zac bit his tongue. He had no dog in this hunt. They'd been over a long time. He wanted her to move on.

Then why does your stomach feel like it's on a wooden roller coaster?

“I can too,” Eden said. “He's kind of quiet and unassuming, but in a reflective way, not to mention he's not exactly hard on the eyes.”

Zac's mind formed an image of Nick and Lucy together with their matching brown hair and kilowatt smiles. The man in the image slipped his arms around Lucy and pulled her close until their bodies came together.

Zac smacked a mosquito on his arm. The sound carried across the patio.

“That settles it then,” Eden said. “I'll introduce you at church.”

Swell. He could hardly wait.

Chapter 19

Z
ac ducked into his office, a niggle of guilt worming through him. He'd been helping a new kid bus tables when Morgan had arrived with a girlfriend in a cloud of perfume. He'd given her a polite nod and a smile and pretended—yes, pretended—he was too busy to stop and say hello. But it was a Tuesday night, and the restaurant was half empty. Who was he kidding?

Ever since their date Friday at the Oyster Bistro, he'd known this was coming. He had to tell her it wasn't working. All he could think of as he sat across from her at the candlelit table was Lucy. It felt like he was sullying the memory of their first date.

The conversation had flowed so easily that night. The more things he'd learned about her, the more he'd wanted to know. Her charming drawl and spirited inflections . . . he could've listened to her talk all night.

Their time at the harbor lingered in his mind as well. That scoop of ice cream falling into his lap. Her face cloaked in dismay. The dab of ice cream dotting the tip of her nose.

The kiss. Making him fall more deeply than he'd ever fallen.

He paced his office, filled with too much energy to sit. He
had a perfectly nice, attractive woman interested in him. She was attentive and fun. She could hold an intelligent conversation about local politics and business management. He hadn't even had to stoop down the one time he'd kissed her.

So why did he find himself missing the way Lucy used to look up at him with those big blue eyes? The way she fit snugly into his chest when he held her? The way he could rest his chin on the top of her head?

He laced his fingers behind his neck. What was wrong with him? She was driving him crazy, that was what. And he was hiding in his office like a little girl.

Butch up, Callahan
.

He left his office and turned down the hall, the barely there noise of the weeknight filtering down the hall. Rain pattered quietly on the roof, and thunder rumbled in the distance.

A familiar voice caught his ears as he neared the doorway to the restaurant. A Southern drawl. But it wasn't Lucy's voice. He slowed his steps at the mouth of the hallway, listening.

“Well, I see how
y'all
might be confused,” Morgan was saying in an exaggerated Southern accent. “But I said I wanted a Dr Pepper, and this is clearly not Dr Pepper.”

“And this lemonade doesn't have enough ice,” another voice said. “Really, is there a shortage or something?”

“I'll be right back,” Lucy said in a tight voice.

A moment of silence passed, but Zac waited.

“She's such a dimwit,” Morgan said.

Zac's muscles tensed, his eyes narrowing on the sliver of booth he could see from his vantage point.

“I don't know what he ever saw in her. You're so much prettier.”

“And she's so short. I mean she's practically a midget.”

Their tinkling laughs ran right up his spine.

“I'll bet she's faking all that amnesia stuff,” Morgan said. Her voice went Southern again. “‘Oh, Zac, I'm so helpless and needy. Please rescue me so I can have purpose and meaning in my
lahf
again!' ”

He ground his teeth together, forcing himself to wait. Heat crawled up the back of his neck and settled there.

“I can't believe he's letting her stay here,” the friend said. “And work here. We've got to do something.”

“Oh, don't you worry about that. Pretty soon she's going to have her hands so full, he'll be plenty eager to see the back of her fat behind.”

“What do you have up your sleeve, Morgan LeBlanc?”

A moment of quiet ensued, and Zac heard the quiet
thunk
of drinks being set down.

“It's about
tahm
,” Morgan said.

“Did you actually get it right for once?” the friend asked.

The heat behind his neck had spread down his limbs and out his pores. He'd heard enough. He slipped around the corner, adjusting his face into a pleasant mask.

“Everything okay, ladies?” His gaze drifted between them. Lucy's face was drawn, her eyes tight with emotion.

“Oh, it's fine,” Morgan said. “Lucy just made a teensy mistake, but it's all good.”

“Oh, terrific. Glad she's taking care of you.” He looked innocently at Morgan. “So you don't think she's a dimwit after all?”

He watched with morbid pleasure as the blood drained from her face. The smile faltered on her red lips, and her eyes darted to her friend's.

He felt the weight of Lucy's gaze but continued staring at Morgan as if expecting an answer.

“I—Zac . . .” She chuckled. “We were only kidding.”

“Like you were kidding about ordering the Dr Pepper?”

A bright flush that had nothing to do with makeup flooded into her cheeks. “I don't know what—”

“I think both of you need to leave.”

Morgan settled a hand over her heart, a look of innocent shock coming over her features. “What?”

“Patrons who don't respect my employees aren't welcome.” He nailed Morgan with a look. “Leave.”

An awkward pause ensued before Morgan drew herself up straight and extricated herself from the booth, her friend following suit.

Morgan turned to him with a lift to her chin, but her heightened color ruined the effect. Zac stared into her brittle green eyes, wondering how he'd ever thought her pretty.

“You just made a terrible miscalculation,” she said.

“I beg to differ.”

“Let's go, Morgan,” her friend said.

Morgan's perfect nose flared, then she turned and left in a wake of cloying perfume.

Lucy's lips were parted as her eyes swung to him. “Thank you.” She sounded a little dumbfounded.

He opened his mouth, so many things on the tip of his tongue. He held them all back, merely gave her a smile and touched her on the arm as he passed. He would've done the same for any employee.

Keep telling yourself that, Callahan.

Lucy pulled the tips from her apron pocket, straightening the bills. Thirty-eight dollars. It had been a long, slow night. The rain pounding the roof overhead made her drowsy, and she fought a yawn as she headed to the bathroom to wash up.

Her feet ached and her back screamed, but as she washed her face, she smiled, remembering the way Zac had stood up for her.

Oh, how she wished she had it on tape so she could watch the color drain from Morgan's face again and again. And the look on her face when Zac kicked her out—priceless.

Good riddance. Lucy wouldn't be seeing her around here anymore. The thought lifted her lips even more.

Just as quickly, her smile faltered. She wouldn't be here to see Morgan anyway. Zac had caught her in the kitchen just before closing to say that Marci was over her illness and returning to work tomorrow.

He'd given her a crooked grin after he'd delivered the news. “You made it—didn't even drop one tray.”

She didn't tell him about the one she'd dropped when he'd gone to the bank last week. Dropping trays was the least of her worries. She had no job now. No reason to spend time with Zac. No excuse to catch little glimpses of him as he worked the front or managed the kitchen. The thought put a pinch in her chest.

A crack of thunder sounded and the room went dark. She waited a minute, clutching the washcloth in her hand, to see if the lights would flicker back on. When the moment passed without incident, she peeked out the door. The rest of the downstairs was dark too. Pitch black.

Zac had already headed upstairs to his apartment. If he was
already in bed, he wouldn't know they'd lost electric. She wondered if he had a generator. Or if there was something he needed to do to protect the food in the walk-in.

She padded out of the bathroom and down the hall, feeling her way with a hand on the wall. She couldn't see a single thing.

Thunder boomed overhead and rain pummeled the roof. Hopefully it wasn't prone to leaks. As it was, the parking lot was going to be—