Let Me Be the One (20 page)

“You bastard,” Suzi muttered.

“Suzi has a bit of a hangover,” Marc said.

“You know how to fix that. Hair of the dog.” Ty grinned.

“No, it’s not.” She held out the glass. “Rinse this out and fill it with water, cheater boy.”

Ty took it. “What do you mean, ‘cheater boy’?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice the last three questions you asked me were baseball questions? You didn’t even pull a card for the last two, and I’m almost certain you just made up that other one,” Suzi grumbled.

“You were getting too many of them right,” Ty protested. “When you play a drinking game, you’re supposed to drink.” He set the water in front of her just as Betsy brought over Marc’s breakfast.

“You’re reprobates and bad influences.” Suzi picked up her glass as Brian walked into the room. His eyes were drawn and red from more than a hangover. He hadn’t been awake all night screwing her. He also hadn’t slipped away after the deed and spent the night guilty. “I’m going to tell Jason and Bear they’re never allowed to leave me alone with Mad”—she pointed at Marc—”Bad”—she pointed at Ty—”And Dangerous to Know.” She tossed her head in Brian’s direction because she didn’t want to look at him. It was a serious mistake. The kitchen sloshed like a ship in a heavy sea. “Ever again.”

“Aw, how come he gets to be Dangerous to Know?” Ty protested. “I’m dangerous. Brian’s not dangerous at all. He should be Mad.”

“Naw, Ellis is a prince, isn’t he? Sweeping in to rescue poor little drunken damsels from bad boys like us.” Marc smirked at Brian.

“Fuck off,” Brian muttered. “Suzi, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Suzi considered telling him to go right ahead and talk, but since there were big sections of last night she didn’t remember, she was afraid of what might come out. He wouldn’t blurt out anything too horrible, but Marc and Ty might spin gold from straw. She stood up and walked out to the lounge. “What happened last night?” she asked before he could say anything.

“I know. I was a jackass. I just wanted to tell you I was sorry.”

Suzi stiffened. Had she, for some unknown reason, had sex with him and then put her clothes back on? “What?”

“For yelling at you last night.” Brian rubbed the back of his neck. “I know I’ve been mean, and I shouldn’t have been. You’re only here to be nice to me. Everybody is here because they’re trying to be nice to me, and all I can do is be a big asshole. So I just wanted to tell you I was sorry. I’ll get to everybody else later.”

“Sorry,” Suzi repeated. “And nothing happened last night?”

“Before or after I smashed a bottle on the ground?”

Had he been up all night fretting about the fact that he’d blown up at her? “After. When I was drunk. You carried me to bed, didn’t you?”

“Oh, that.” He blushed.

Suzi stomach tightened. What had she done that would make him blush?

“Nothing happened.”

He was an awful, awful liar. His hands were behind his back, and his eyes were fixed on the wall over her shoulder.

“What happened?”

“I carried you upstairs and put you to bed.” He shrugged, still staring at the floor with his hands stuffed in his back pockets.

“And I did what?” Suzi chewed her lips.

He rolled his eyes. “You asked me to kiss you. I told you no, and then you passed out.”

“I passed out.”

“Yeah.”

As shifty as he was acting, it wasn’t the whole truth.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

And he would absolutely keep his promise. She threw her arms around him. “You know what, Ellis? You’re a prince.”

“That’s me. A prince.” He rolled his eyes again, and she was afraid to ask why. “So tell me about this Beatles tour in Liverpool.”

“You’ll go?” She brightened. Maybe yesterday hadn’t been so bad. If she could cheer him up a little, achieve her objective here, make him happy, wasn’t that worth a little heartbreak and a massive hangover? “It’s supposed to be fun. Come on, I’ll show you the website.”

Present

Suzi fell into his embrace. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. “I missed you so much,” she whispered.

When he saw her headed for luggage claim, he almost hadn’t recognized her. The bright light of her personality was gone. Her hair frizzed out of its ponytail, and her eyes were downcast on the way to baggage claim. Never had he seen her get off an airplane, or even get out of a car, so wrinkled and limp. How had she gotten that old, that brutalized, in just a few weeks? Then she glanced up and caught sight of him. A weak smile lifted her lips, and his heart clenched. He met her halfway.

He’d hunted and manipulated and misdirected and plain-old lied to be right here, right now.

Stroking her hair. “I missed you, too. You have luggage?”

“I have a blue Halliburton case. You’ll recognize it. It’s covered in alcohol labels and bumper stickers.”

Brian whistled. “You have a Halliburton case?”

“Brett loaned it to me.” She’d made quote marks with her fingers at the word loaned.

“Was he trying to get you to leave?”

“No. He wanted me to stay forever no matter how badly I was cramping his womanizing, but if I was going to leave, he wanted to make sure I was as safe as possible.”

“Why did you leave?” Brian bit the inside of his cheek. The last thing he wanted to do was encourage her back to Cherney.

“It’s hard to swan around in a post-break-up fugue when your host is bringing home a party every chance. He was great when I needed him, but I felt like I was imposing.” She stepped back.

Brian wished she’d stayed in his arms. He could protect her there. “New computer bag?” He reached for the leather bag draped over her shoulders. For a second, she tensed, but then she relinquished it.

“New everything. Mr. Discover loves me.”

The luggage carousel clanked to life behind them. Brian put his arm around her shoulders to walk her back to collect her things. The aluminum case appeared first. Brian almost couldn’t see the metal for the stickers. He yanked it off the belt. “What the hell do you have in here?” Brian laughed.

“My whole life.”

He glanced back at her. A little girl lost in a big world again. “Hey, come on Suz. Let’s go home.” He set the case on its casters and pulled out the handle. Settling the computer bag on top, he glanced at her again. Her eyes were on the computer bag. No matter what she said, her life wasn’t in the Halliburton case. It was in the computer bag. And she’d trusted him with it.

She didn’t say anything on the way to the truck. As soon as he got on the road, she turned to the window and fell asleep. He’d planned to ask her if she wanted to stop for a bite on the way, but decided, based on how thin she was, she wouldn’t. This time, Cassie might be right. A little bit of Paul’s cooking might be vital.

* * * *

Suzi wiped her hands on her napkin. Fried chicken. The minute they walked into the restaurant, Ida had insisted what Suzi needed was fried chicken. Suzi assumed there had been a plan in place before they left the house. The entire town was in collusion with Brian to cheer her up.

Brian had insisted they go to town for dinner and hadn’t even let her stop for shoes on the way out. At the time, it hadn’t seemed all that unusual a request, even if he was in an all-fired hurry to go. She’d been congratulating herself on the drive down on how agreeable and nice she was being by letting him take over. For five days, she’d lounged in a hammock, refusing most food and all conversation, and he’d let her. Now, she could go with the flow for a little while. Let him do what he thought would cheer her up. Then go back up the mountain and sequester herself in the guest cabin to stare at the scenery for several more days.

When they’d arrived in town, she knew something was up. People on the street were smiling at them. They got a booth in the restaurant when every other seat in the place, inside and out, was taken, and their meals were already prepared.

Paul swept out of the kitchen bearing tartlets already packed in a clear plastic container. Paul insinuated himself in the booth beside her and gave her a fierce hug. “You poor dear. You’re just skin. And over that barbarian. He was never good enough for you.” Paul kissed her cheek. “I have been just wild to go up there and tell you, but that man”—Paul aimed a glare across the table at Brian—”wouldn’t let me. Now, tell me you ate enough.”

“I ate plenty.”

“Good. I packed these up to go because I knew you would be full. They’re Mountain Berry Tartlets. It’s just whatever berries are in season that we find, but I remembered how much you liked blackberries, and these are blackberry heavy. You are so different from Cassie. When Cassie was depressed, all she wanted to do was eat, and you—you look like you’ve just been freed from a concentration camp.” Paul pinched her cheek. “Poor thing.” Something banged in the kitchen. Paul bounced up and sprinted for the sound.

“Gotta love the local color.” Brian grinned. He had such a great smile. Warm and welcoming. “I need to wash the grease off my fingers. I’ll be back.”

The minute he left, Ida swooped in. “I’m so happy to see the two of you together. You were always so cute.”

“We’re not together together.” Suzi shook her head. “We’re not even sleeping in the same building. He’s in the house, and I’m in the guest cabin.”

“Why not? He’s obviously in love with you. Paul said it the first time he saw you together. You remember that day you walked in here, both of you barefoot and covered in dirt and twigs? You just looked like a match made in heaven. Or West Virginia. Close enough. We half thought the reason he went home that summer was to get his divorce going so he could settle down with you, you being so good with his kids and all.” Ida tapped her wicked long, hot pink fingernails on the table.

“No, he went home to salvage his marriage. It just didn’t work.” Suzi bit her lip. She remembered walking in here that day. It had been her bright idea to follow the stream. That was the day she’d started imagining she was in love with him. A delusion she’d been battling ever since.

“I think there’s a very good reason it didn’t work.”

He had gone home right after that foray down the mountain, and he had filed for divorce within six months. Thinking back, the timing was…interesting. “We’re just friends.”

“Friends is a very good way to start.” Ida levered herself out of the booth. “Don’t you forget those tartlets now. Paul made them special for you.”

Special. Something was up. Those tartlets had been baked hours ago. Long enough to have cooled before they were packed up.

Brian came out of the hall from the bathrooms and stopped to talk to someone. He glanced at her, and her breath caught in her throat. She’d forgotten how tall he was. Not in an imposing way, but solid. Safe. After clapping the man on the shoulder, he returned to the table. “So, do you want to head back up the holler, or do you want to see if there’s something interesting going on in town?”

“You know there’s at least six things going on in town tonight.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know if you’d be up to the craft show in the middle school gym.” He laced his long fingers together on the table. He’d made no effort to reach for her hand, but he was in reach. Brian had always been in reach, starting six months after they met. Because they were friends.

Just friends. Nothing more. “Maybe another night.”

“All right. I’ll go settle the bill, and we’ll head home.”

Home. As if it belonged to either of them. But it already felt more like home than anyplace she’d been in the last two months. She gathered up the tartlets and followed Brian to the counter where he was joking with Ida. After he’d collected his change, he draped his arm over her shoulders, and Ida batted her eyes as if blinking back tears. Shaking the Suzi-and-Brian rumor was going to be nearly impossible. No way was Brian in love with her. He was just a good friend. A very good friend.

A very good friend whose kids she loved. Who made her heart pitter patter when he smiled. Who she hunted for excuses to talk to and dreamed about. In the past four years, she’d written a ton of short stories just because it gave her an excuse to email him.

“I’m not going to be able to eat in town often. Between Ida and Paul, they’re going to fatten me up like a Christmas ham,” Suzi said after they’d pushed through the door into the humidity outside.

“They just want to take care of you. Everybody feels bad about what happened.”

“Including you.”

“Of course. We were in Japan finishing up the tour. Everybody was climbing the walls, trying to figure out what happened, and then you disappeared. Don’t ever do that to me again.”

We
.
Everybody
. Neither was specific. Ida had lost her marbles. But then, there was that
me
at the end. “Just to you?”

“Yes, I thought you knew you could always rely on me, and I hated thinking of you out there alone.”

“I was with Brett first, and then I went to stay with a friend.”

“But I wasn’t there, so as far as I’m concerned, you were alone.” He gave her a playful squeeze.

The sidewalk was still hot from the sun, but the air was cooling. His body heat did more than keep her from getting a chill. It comforted. He was right. She had been alone. Until she threw her arms around him at the airport, she’d been isolated. Even when he didn’t press her to talk, or even expect her to sleep in the same building with him, she’d felt cared for. To be honest, his almost daily emails from the time she’d left the party until she came here had made her feel connected even when she was flying around like a balloon with all its air escaping. Suzi sniffed.

He stopped. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “You’re right. I was alone. I just didn’t know how to stop.”

“You pick up the telephone”—he leaned in close, staring meaningfully into her eyes—”and you make a call. And the person on the other end says, ‘When are you arriving? I’ll pick you up.’”

“I know. It just felt so awkward. You’re all Logan’s friends.”

“Oh, my God! You’re Brian Ellis, aren’t you?”

Brian turned to the two middle-aged women, and his public persona kicked on. Suzi stepped back. He’d been about to say they were her friends, too. She should have known that. Jason and Marc were probably half out of their minds worrying. Or had been. The emails had stopped. Brian would have let them know when she called. No, Brian wasn’t in love with her. He was a very concerned friend. She just wished it was more.