Desired in December (Spring River Valley Book 12) (3 page)

The reporter smiled. “James, you must be so thrilled to be home after so long away. Five years, two tours in the Middle East, that’s an impressive service record. Can you give me some idea of what’s that’s like, and how it feels to be home now, especially with the holidays coming up?”

“Uh…yeah. It feels great, obviously.” Another flash left him blinking away bright splotches of color. Clearly Max was enjoying this. “I’m sure anyone who’s read an interview with a soldier knows what it’s like to be deployed. It’s hot, it’s dry, it’s tense, but there are some amazing things too. You meet some fascinating people
, and you see a lot of things that make you appreciate what you have back home.”

Evie nodded raptly as though he’d said the most profound thing. She made hasty notes before looking up again. “You were born and raised here in Spring River Valley, so you must have a lot of fond memories of town. What did you miss most when you were away?”

“Besides my family, I missed playing ball at Norton Field on Saturday nights in the summer with my friends. We used to get a pickup softball game going, and we’d play until it got so dark we couldn’t see the ball. My father told me they put lights on the field last year…I guess it won’t ever be that dark again.”

“How does it feel to be receiving a commendation from the mayor? That must be pretty exciting.”

“Ah, yeah. It’s weird. There were so many people I knew over there who I’d call heroes. I worked in communications, and I was very lucky not to see too much combat. I worked with people who saved lives every day. They all deserve commendations.”

“But communications is vitally important, and your role was no doubt invaluable. I’m actually looking forward to being there
at the meeting, and of course Max will be on hand to take pictures.” In response, Max snapped another candid shot in which James was sure he probably looked like a gaping fish.

“Do you have anything prepared to say at the
presentation?”

“Ugh…not yet. I’ll probably just stutter something incoherent. I’m not much for public speaking.”

Evie raised a brow. “If you need some help writing a little speech, I’d be happy to…”

“Thanks, I might take you up on that.”

“I don’t want to keep you too long. I’m sure you have so many things you want to do now that you’re home. Aside from your family, of course, who were you most anxious to see when you got back to the United States?”

James glanced at Max who was occupied with adjusting his camera. “My friends…Grant and Owen
, I guess. I could name a dozen people. It’s hard to keep in touch in certain areas of the world. Internet connections aren’t all that great, mail service is sketchy at best, so I have a lot of catching up to do.”

Evie finished taking notes and raised a brow. “Any special
lady
waiting for you to come home?”

James cleared his throat. It was bad enough his mother had cornered him and demanded
point-blank that he go and see Cassie. He certainly didn’t want his biggest regret broadcast in the local paper. “Uh…not…really.”

Max made a noise, which he covered up with a cough while stuffing his camera back into its case. “I’m done, Evie. I’ll catch you later. James—”

“Max, it’s good to see you again.” He held out his hand, which Max shook reluctantly before heading toward the front door.

“You didn’t answer her question,” he muttered over his shoulder as he went.

James transferred his gaze back to Evie. “There’s someone I’m hoping to reconnect with now that I’m home.”

She grinned and made more notes. “That’s great. I hope you can make the connection.”

“Me too.” James glanced toward the door, but Max had already left.

“Okay, we’ve got red velvet cupcakes here, Linzer torts with raspberry filling here, trays of chocolate-dipped mint cookies here, and the cake which will be displayed on the back table.” Cassie ticked off items on her fingers as she hurried back and forth between the kitchen and the main ball room at Taverna Fiora.

The party was due to start in two hours, so she had plenty of time to finish arranging the desserts before there was any danger of running into James. Nevertheless, her hands were clammy, and her heart was racing like a greyhound chasing a rabbit. Good thing she’d avoided caffeine all day
, or she’d probably be in the throes of a massive coronary right now. She’d never been this nervous on a job before. It wasn’t just that she wanted to avoid any awkward reunion; she also wanted everything to be perfect. Her reputation hung on every cookie, every cupcake, every icing rose and drizzle of chocolate, and she couldn’t allow anyone to think she’d done a sloppy job just because tonight’s pastries were for the man who’d broken her heart. If anything, it meant more this evening that every single bite of every tort was sumptuous perfection, every peak of icing on the cake was just sweet enough, and every arrangement looked like it had been crafted by angels.

It was for James
, after all, the first man she’d ever loved. No one needed to know he was the last, and the only. It was enough that she knew it.

“Cassie? Cassandra, are you back there?” Harper Shaw nearly ran into Cassie in the narrow corridor between the kitchen and the ballroom.

Taverna Fiora’s resident decorator was probably the only person who came close to approaching Cassie’s level of nervous energy tonight, though Cassie couldn’t understand why. Almost a year ago, Harper’s wedding reception was to have been held in the grand ballroom, but her fiancé had flown the coop, literally jumping on a plane to Tahiti with their honeymoon tickets on the night of their rehearsal dinner. Today, having left her full-time job at a local accounting firm, Harper handled all of the visual details at TF. Her candles, centerpieces, and flower arrangements transformed the ballrooms and dining rooms of the catering hall into fairy-tale venues fit for royalty, and to top that off, she’d been dating Grant, the manager of TF, since last winter.

What could Harper have to be nervous about?

“I’m here, Harper. What’s wrong? Don’t tell me… Is the chocolate on the mint cookies melting?”

“No, no. The cookies are perfect, the cupcakes are gorgeous
, and the cake…oh, my God, the cake.”

“What’s wrong with the cake?”
Cassie’s throat threatened to close up on her question.

“Nothing!” Harper put her hands on Cassie’s shoulders. “The cake is a masterpiece. I know Grant wanted you to do
camouflage-colored icing. You have no idea how glad I am that you talked him out of it.”

Cassie’s shoulders slumped in relief, and she sighed. Grant had meant well, with his idea for an army
-themed cake, but Cassie had tactfully convinced him to go a different way. She figured the last thing a soldier who’d spent years wearing desert fatigues would want to see when he got home was anything camouflage. She’d gone instead with a rich burgundy fondant accented by gold leaf—sophisticated elegance worthy of a five-star general. “Okay. So, have I forgotten anything?”

“No, not at all. I just wanted to tell you, I’m mortified that Grant never thought to ask you if you wanted to stay for the party. It’s not right that you worked so hard and you don’t get to enjoy all that beautiful food.”

Cassie hoped her nervous laugh didn’t sound more like an hysterical bark. “No, really. I can’t stay. I’m the caterer. That’s all. Besides, look at me. Even if I wanted to, I’m covered in flour and chocolate, and I have blue icing all over my shirt.”

“We can fix that. You’ve got time to change, and—”

“No. Really.”

“I bet James would really like to see you.”
Sympathy filled Harper’s eyes, and Cassie cringed. Her sad history with James had obviously become public knowledge in the past week, and for the first time since she’d met Harper, she fully understood how difficult it must have been when everyone in town had referred to her as the jilted bride.

“Oh, no. Too much drama for me. And I don’t want to steal the spotlight with some big…mushy reunion.” Would it be big and mushy, she wondered, or cold and stinging like the letter he’d sent her from boot camp? “Besides, I’m sure he wouldn’t be expecting me, and one big surprise a night is probably enough of a shock for him.”

“I understand. I just didn’t want you to think you weren’t welcome. Grant told me a little bit about you two, and I give you a lot of credit for taking on this job.”

Cassie stifled a sigh. If one more person told her that
, she’d scream. Instead, she smiled tightly, but at least it was a smile. “I don’t need any credit, just a check, and I’ll be on my way. Gotta’ go home and put my feet up. It’s been a long day.” The longest day ever in fact, and she couldn’t wait for it to be over.

“Of course! Come with me to Grant’s office
, and we’ll take care of your invoice. Then you can get going.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Cassie followed Harper to the office area
, and as she passed one of the prep stations she caught a snippet of the conversation taking place among some staff members.

“I heard she used to date the guy, and he dumped her before he left for the army…
poor girl
.”

Yep, now she knew
exactly
how Harper had felt.

* * * *

“Sure, Mom. I’ll meet you and Dad for dinner at seven. Sharp. At Taverna Fiora. Are you sure that place isn’t a little too expensive for just a regular dinner? We could go to the diner, and I’d be fine with that. No, I don’t mind something a little fancy, but…okay. Uh…where am I
now
?” James glanced out of the side window of his rental car at the glowing front façade of the catering hall where he’d just agreed to meet his parents in an hour and a half. They had no idea he’d come early to scope the place out, no idea he’d wheedled all the details of the party out of Owen. They’d never find out, either, because he’d perfected his surprised face with an hour’s worth of practice. He could win an Oscar with the act he had planned. “I’m…at the supermarket, picking up a few things.”

His mother launched into a litany of questions he hadn’t expected, her voice growing more shrill by the second as she worried he wouldn’t get
to the restaurant on time. “Mom, Mom, I just wanted to pick up a razor and some shaving cream. That’s all. It’s not…no, don’t worry about it. Yes, I’m wearing nice clothes. I know TF is fancy. You guys really didn’t have to make reservations here—I mean
there
, you know. I’d have been just as happy staying home and having your meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”

She rattled on for a few more minutes until she exhausted herself, then she said good
-bye and hung up. James rolled his eyes and sighed. She meant well, but she was driving him crazy. He couldn’t wait for the night to be over, which made him feel guilty because so many people had gone to so much trouble for him.

Just as a precaution, he practiced his surprised look one more time before he got out of the car and wandered around to the back of the parking lot
, casually looking for the rear entrance, the place where a caterer might be found.

He had to stop and ask himself what he thought he was doing. Ever since he’d found out Cassie was making the desserts for the party, he’d harbored a foolish idea that he could somehow manage to run into her, because if he did, he’d know for sure that the feelings he’d told himself would go away over time weren’t just some fantasy he’d hung onto for no good reason. If he saw her again in person, he’d know if trying to get her back was really the right thing to do.

Rounding the corner of the building, he immediately saw a catering van parked near the back entrance. He didn’t have to wonder if it was hers. The name emblazoned on the side of the dark red vehicle in golden script told him everything. Buttons and Bows…those were the names of two stuffed toys he’d given her while they were dating. Buttons was a teddy bear he’d won for her at the town carnival around their first anniversary as a couple. It had taken him over an hour and more than twenty-five dollars playing the ring toss to win the purple bear with big black buttons for eyes. She’d jumped up and down like a kid when he presented her with the toy, and she’d hugged him so hard. He’d never felt more like a hero than he had that night.

Bows had been a turtle
—or maybe a frog—some kind of amphibian decorated with multi-colored ribbons that he’d bought for her for considerably less money than he’d spent on the bear, but she’d loved that ridiculous stuffed animal more than if it had been a diamond ring. The fact that she’d named her business after two silly objects he’d given her struck his heart like an arrow and gave him hope that the spark he’d tried to douse when he’d left for boot camp might someday be reignited.

While James debated whether or not he should linger, a shadowy form emerged from the kitchen door. He moved behind the van to stay out of sight, and remained there until he realized the person who’d
exited from the kitchen was just a busboy bringing out some trash. He let out his breath and relaxed. Maybe he was ready to pretend to be surprised, but he had no plan for what he might say to Cassie if he actually did run into her.

How have you been?
seemed so lame.