Always For You (Always Love Book 1) (9 page)

Ali laughed. “And that’s a bad thing?”

I shook my head. “Of course it’s not, but I think I want a man who wants
me
, for me, not just for the role I could play.” I gazed out over the waving grass that bordered the woods beyond my house. “Do you remember Sherri Hayes? She was in the class between you and me in school.”

“Sure. Nice girl. Moved to Miami after graduation, I think.”

“Maybe. She and I were fairly good friends when I was a sophomore and she was a freshman. We were on a dance committee together, and we hit it off. Anyway, I used to go over to her house quite a bit that year, and I remember her parents. They were both really nice to me, and I could tell they loved Sherri, but I never saw them interact with each other very much. They were almost like polite strangers. I asked Sherri once if everything was okay with them, because, you know, it was so different from my folks, who were forever groping each other, teasing, talking . . . anyway, she said they were fine, that they’d always been like this. She told me that they’d met when they were both older and anxious to get married and have kids, so that’s what they did.”

Ali nodded. “Yeah, I can see that happening. If you were worried getting married was never going to happen for you, and then this perfectly nice guy comes along who shares the same goals . . .why not go for it, even if you’re not particularly in love?”

“Exactly.” I leaned my head against the back of the rocker. “But I remember thinking even then, I don’t want that. I want the craziness that my mom and dad had, being wildly in love. Your parents had it, too. Remember the time we came home from the movies to sleep over at your house, and we caught your mother and father necking on the porch?”

Ali smiled. She’d been only fifteen when her parents had been killed, and I knew some of those memories were still painful. “I do. They really were in love, right up to the end.”

“Exactly. That’s what I wanted then, and even if it’s totally unrealistic, it’s what I still want now. I don’t want to settle into good enough. I want to grab love and take that wild ride. Like you and Flynn. And Meghan and Sam.”

Ali sighed and scooched across the porch on her butt until she rested her head against my leg. “I want that for you, too, Reen. I want you to be deliriously happy. You deserve it.” She was quiet for a minute. “But you don’t think Tim is the one to give you that?”

I considered. “Hard to say, but I’m thinking no. But don’t worry. I’m going out with him tomorrow night anyway. I figured I needed to give him more of a shot. After all, maybe he’s just being cautious, too, and once we get to know each other, we’ll find out we really do have the spark.”

“I’m glad you’re giving him a chance.” Ali straightened and looked up at me. “I felt really bad the other night. About Smith, I mean. I so much wanted that to work out for you, I think because how you felt about him back in college was such a clear memory for me. It was part of who you and I were before . . . well, before I screwed up everything.” She swallowed. “I missed being your friend, Reenie. That whole time—I was heartbroken over Flynn, of course, but I missed you, too. It was like ripping my heart out, and not having anyone who could understand.” She laid her hand on my arm. “I hope we’re friends again. I know part of you is still mad at me. I know it’s going to take time. But I want us to be like we used to be. Like sisters.”

I blinked back against the sudden tears in my eyes. Ali teased a lot. She joked, she made outrageous remarks, and she made us all laugh, but seldom did she get serious. I wondered if she’d developed that protective shell of humor to keep her heart safe after she’d lost her parents, and then Flynn and then me.

An old memory flashed across my mind. It’d happened about three months after Ali and Craig Moss had gotten married, which had been the breaking point of my friendship with her. Up until then, I’d felt sorry that my stupid brother had run off after their argument, and I was certain he’d come back and they’d make up. But when Ali had up and married one of his friends instead of waiting for Flynn, she’d crossed a line, and I couldn’t stand to be around her. I knew if I did speak to her, I’d say things that neither of us would ever be able to forget.

I’d been home from college on Thanksgiving break, and I’d run to the grocery store with Iona to pick up something our mom needed. Turning the corner, I spotted Ali at the far end of the aisle. She was standing there, staring at the canned goods, her arms wrapped around herself as though for protection.

Next to me, Iona had sighed. “Poor kid. She looks so alone, doesn’t she?”

I’d glared at my sister. “She’s the one who made the choices she did. She could’ve gone with Flynn, like they planned. Or she could’ve waited for him. She didn’t need to sleep with his friend and get knocked up, then have to get married.”

“Maybe.” Iona had nodded. “But she’s so young, Reen. And she doesn’t have friends anymore except for Alex, and he’s away at school in Atlanta most of the time. I never see her with anyone. And her eyes just look sad and lost.” She’d patted my arm. “We all make choices we wish we could change. Maybe Ali’s doing the best she can with the ones she can’t take back.”

Now, with her wide brown eyes staring up me, all jokes and teasing gone, I wished I’d been a better person that day. I wished I’d gone up to that scared and lonely girl in the grocery store and hugged her, told her that no matter what, we’d always be friends and I’d be there for her. If I had, maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she’d have confided in me about the baby being Flynn’s, and I could’ve convinced her to contact him. Maybe we wouldn’t have lost all those years.

But I hadn’t, and the only thing I could do now was choose to be her friend again. Not in a grudging, half-hearted way, because she was married to my brother and the mother of my niece, but because I still remembered who we’d been and how we’d felt about each other all those years ago.

“Of course we’re friends.” I covered her hand with mine. “I love you, Ali, like the little sister I never knew I wanted. And life feels right again, because we’re back to being the way we were.”

She relaxed, her shoulders drooping. “I’m glad. I couldn’t stand it if you were going to be mad at me forever.” She glanced at me. “And I’m sorry for making such a big deal about Smith coming here. I wanted it for you, and I still don’t see why he doesn’t realize—well, I’m not going to rehash that. Onward and upward, right?”

I forced a smile. “Absolutely.”

“Honey, I’m home!” The kitchen door swung open as Smith stepped through.

I turned from the stove, watching as he closed it behind him and dropped his keys on the corner of the counter. I tried not to notice how well his faded jeans fit his butt and the way his blue T-shirt hugged his biceps. But damn, it wasn’t easy to stop looking, and my irritation with my own inability to ignore his assets made my words sharper than I’d intended.

“Did you forget that home for you is actually through the other door and up the steps?” I focused on the vegetables I was stir frying, gnawing on the corner of my mouth.

“Nope, not at all. But I smelled something good cooking in here, and I thought you might want to hear how everything went today, since it was my first shift completely on my own.”

“I trust you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have offered you the partnership.” I smirked a little. “Plus Millie already called to give me a full report.”

Smith shook his head, feigning disappointment. “And here I thought I’d won her to my side with my irresistible charm.”

Laughing, I lowered the heat under the wok. “Sorry, bud. She’s known me all my life. It’s going to take more than a pretty face to undermine her loyalty.”

“But hey, I come with more than a pretty face. Don’t discount the hot bod and winning ways.”

“I wouldn’t think of it.” Giving the veggies one last toss, I lifted the pan and tipped it over a large bowl. “So since you’re here, want some stir fry? It’s just vegetables over rice, but you’re welcome to share.”

“If you’re sure you’ve got enough, definitely.” Smith opened the cabinet that held my plates and pulled out two. I sternly warned myself not to read anything into the fact that he knew my kitchen layout already.

I spooned brown rice from the steamer onto the plates and then divided the veggies over top of it. “Everything went well today? You didn’t feel like you were in over your head?”

“Not really. The practice is the same no matter where you do it, isn’t it? The paperwork’s a little different. I’m trying to make sure I understand your procedures, but it’s pretty easy. And Millie’s a peach.”

“She is. You know, she started working for Dr. Yancey when she was just married, thirty-some years ago, and she’s been with him all this time. When her kids were little, she’d bring them into the office with her. Dr. Yancey was really easy going about it. He’d bring in his own kids, too, when they had school holidays. It’s a very family-friendly place to work.”

Smith retrieved forks for both of us and then sat down at the table with his plate. I picked up napkins and joined him.

“Good to know, for when I get ready to start popping out the kids, right?” He winked at me and took a bite of the food. I watched him, waiting for a reaction. “My God, Reen, this is delicious. I had no idea you could cook.” He laid down his fork and picked up my hand from where it lay on my lap, giving a warm squeeze. “You’re a woman of many talents.”

My heartbeat stuttered, and I frowned, pulling my hand away. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I take it you don’t cook?”

“I make a mean grilled cheese. And I can scramble eggs. Otherwise, no.” He shot me a half-apologetic look. “I’ve had to rely on takeout, the women in my family, and the kindness of strangers when it comes to meals. Oh, and I’m also dependent on the frozen food aisle.”

“That’s pitiful. Cooking isn’t hard, and you should learn.” I scooped up another bite. “I mean, how’re you going to dazzle the women if you can’t woo them with food?”

He shot me the smolder. “Believe me, I’ve got moves. The last thing they’re thinking about when they’re with me is their stomachs.”

I swallowed and shook my head. “Quite the player, are you? Haven’t you ever thought about settling down?”

Smith’s face grew serious, his ever-present grin fading. “Actually, I have. I got really close last year. Almost got married.”

Feeling as though I might choke if I took another bite, I laid down my fork. “I had no idea. You never said anything.” We’d been in sporadic contact over the years, emails here and there and even the occasional text message. He’d sent me updates whenever he moved or changed jobs, and I’d let him know when my dad had died last year. I felt a little betrayed that he hadn’t shared something this important with me.

“I was going to. I planned to send you an email so you wouldn’t be shocked when you got the invitation, but then . . . things changed.” He was watching my face, as though how I reacted to this news might be important.

I pasted on a bright smile. “Glad to know I made the cut to be invited. Did you . . . or did she . . .?” I let my voice trail off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.

Smith sighed. “I met Felicia when the charity committee she chaired was planning a fundraiser. The office where I was working was one of the sponsors of the event. We hit it off—she’s a great girl. And we just started seeing each other casually.” He lifted one shoulder. “Suddenly I realized we’d been together two years, and I figured the next step was an engagement ring.” One side of his mouth quirked up. “At least, that’s what my mother told me. My parents loved Felicia, and I think my mom was afraid I’d let her get away.”

“But you didn’t.” My voice sounded hollow even to my own ears.

“No, I didn’t. I proposed, she said yes, we had a very elegant engagement party at her parents’ home in Beacon Hill. We began to make plans. And then one day, after I got home from work, Felicia came over with dinner from one of our favorite restaurants. Really amazing Italian food. Seemed like a regular night, she was telling me about her day and I was telling her about mine, and then out of the blue, she said, ‘Smith, are you in love with me?’ And I couldn’t answer her. It was like something got stuck in my throat. I’d been telling this girl I loved her for almost two years, and yet I couldn’t make myself say that I was
in
love with her.” Smith rubbed his forehead. “Felicia was . . . she was amazing. Most women would’ve screamed and thrown stuff around, but she just smiled at me and said she understood. She told me she’d known for a little while that something was off, and she admitted that she wasn’t in love with me either.”

“She wasn’t?” I couldn’t imagine being with Smith and not being in love with him.

He smiled a little. “No, she said she thought she was in love with the idea of me—a decent guy from a good family, someone her parents liked—and she figured at some point, her feelings would get deeper. But they never did, and she was afraid if we didn’t stop things then, we’d end up married for ten years with two kids, wondering what the hell we’d done.”

I nodded carefully. “She sounds like a very wise woman.”

“She is. It worked out for her, luckily. About six months after we called off our engagement, she met a guy who was totally wrong for her, at least on paper. He’s a chef from South Boston, big rough-looking dude—but they’re wildly happy. I saw her before I moved down here.”