Willow Spring (7 page)

She didn’t hesitate to say, “I like you a lot
now,
too.” And then she followed one more instinct—to reach up and give him a hug.

His body was sturdy and warm against hers, and . . . mmm, it felt far different than the hugs she got from Lucky or Mike. Just as she’d known it would.

And maybe she even would have gone so far as to give him a kiss—but that was when she realized she’d stepped out of her little hiding place to hug him and that they now stood in a doorway, visible to the whole family, gathered near the front door.

And her new mother smiled as she quipped, “We always said you two would end up together someday,” and everyone chuckled, and Anna knew it was a joke, but also maybe not
completely
a joke. And she looked up into Logan’s eyes and hoped he saw in her gaze the message she was trying to send:
I think I want you
.

A
my stood behind the counter ringing up a murder mystery novel for Rachel’s grandma, Edna Farris. Edna lived at the apple orchard just outside town, which Rachel and Mike helped her operate. “Now that Bret Michaels isn’t on TV anymore, need something to keep me awake ’til my bedtime,” she said of the novel, making both Amy and Tessa laugh.

Though lately, when Amy laughed or smiled, it was only on the outside. Inside, she remained filled with heartache. It was the strangest feeling, being in love. One part of her wished it had never happened, or that she’d never figured it out, because she’d been a much merrier, even-keeled person up to now. But another part of her couldn’t imagine not knowing this amazingly overwhelming emotion, the way her heart—her whole body—somehow just felt filled to overflowing every time she thought of Logan. Which was constantly now.

She woke up with him on her mind and she fell asleep thinking about him. She dreamed of him at night and she fantasized about him during the day.

Some of the fantasies were simple, pure things. She saw them holding hands as they walked across the town square. She envisioned cheering for him at softball games, him coming off the field and giving her a kiss afterward just because she was his girl. She planned imaginary dinners with him at her mother’s house, or at his mom’s—or heck, anywhere at all.

But some of the fantasies were . . . sexier. They were about kissing the way they had at his cottage that day, but not stopping. They were about clothes coming off, touches being exchanged. They were about their bodies being connected, moving together. How would that feel? To be that close to Logan, to share that with him?

She stayed lost in thought while Edna and Tessa indulged in wedding talk. Rachel and Mike’s post-wedding party was taking place in the orchard’s barn, and Tessa’s expertise in interior design was being put to work to turn the red barn into a suitable reception hall. But when the bookshop’s door closed behind Edna, the little bell up above tinkling at her departure, Tessa looked over at Amy from where she stood stocking a display of summer-themed books and said, “What’s wrong? You look weird. What are you thinking about?”

“Cats,” Amy lied, her gaze landing on Austen, who lay curled in the wide windowsill next to the counter.

“Cats? Really? Because cats usually make you happy.”

“I’ve been trying to get Austen and Mr. Knightley to play together and make friends, but it’s just not working. And it’s bumming me out because I’ve gotten attached to Austen, more than the other past strays for some reason, and I guess I was thinking I might actually keep her if she and Knightley could work out their differences. But so far, no go.” And all that was true—though of course it wasn’t what she’d really been thinking about.

“Well, you never know—keep at it and maybe they’ll mend their fences. Now,” Tessa went on, her look turning more knowing, “what
really
has you so depressed?”

And Amy just sighed. She’d never had much reason to lie and apparently she wasn’t very good at it. So now she simply shot Tessa a pointed glance and said, “Okay, think about it.”

It took only a second for the light of understanding to click on in Tessa’s eyes. “Oh. Him. You’re thinking about Logan.”

“It’s all I do these days,” Amy replied on a sad sigh.

“Any happy thoughts, or only sad ones?” Tessa asked.

Amy gave her head a glum tilt. “All of them. The good, the bad, and the ugly. And I’m already very tired of feeling so down all the time. Unrequited love is exhausting.”

Just then, the bell above the door rang and they both looked up to see Logan himself.

“Speak of the . . .” Tessa murmured, but let her words trail off.

“I hope you weren’t about to call me the devil,” Logan said with a cheerful smile that trickled down through Amy all the way to her toes. Then he looked playfully back and forth between them. “Were you two talking about me?”

Amy and Tessa exchanged glances, and Amy’s said,
Do something
. Under normal circumstances, she was usually pretty good at fudging an answer, but these weren’t normal circumstances.

Fortunately, Tessa came up with an easy reply. “We were just talking about how glad we are to see you acting like your old self lately. And I was saying how lucky you are to have someone like Amy to stick by you through rough times.”

As designed, the words caused Logan to shift his gaze her way. Their eyes met, and his were all sparkly and blue, and she wanted to melt. Just from that. How weird. They’d looked at each other thousands of times in their lives, but now his eyes suddenly got her all hot and tingly. And somehow it was both torture and ecstasy all at once.

“Tessa’s right about that—I’m a lucky guy to have someone as sweet as you looking out for me. I’m not sure I’ve really thanked you enough for that, freckles.”

And then—oh God—he actually reached out and squeezed her hand where it rested on the counter. And just like his gaze, the touch rippled all through her—only worse. It ran up her arm and down through her breasts, and—oh my—she even felt it in her panties. She bit her lip, praying her reaction, or how nervous it made her, didn’t show on her face.

“Well,” she said, then stopped to clear her throat because something suddenly seemed to be clogging it, “I’m just glad that, you know, I could, um, help.” Oh good Lord, it was as if she’d lost the ability to form sentences around him. This was insane. She’d never dreamed something as simple as love could fog up her brain so badly.

But then again, love, it turned out, wasn’t so simple at all. She’d watched all her friends go through the trials and tribulations of falling in love, and she’d somehow convinced herself that their dramas and troubles were romantic and exciting—yet now, for the first time, she truly understood the pain they’d been experiencing and she sympathized in a whole new way.

And sadly, she didn’t even
have
any drama with Logan. Her troubles were . . . nonevents. Her troubles were secretly loving a guy who didn’t love her back. How boring compared to all her friends’ romances.
Figures. I’m always the boring one, the simple one, the nice one. Nothing ever happens to me—ever.

Not that she really wanted drama like she’d seen Rachel and Tessa go through before ending up with the men of their dreams. Or Jenny and Sue Ann, either. But somehow, just now, she felt so incredibly . . . dull. Like her life was suddenly empty. She’d always thought she was happy here in Destiny, running her little store, living with her cat, finding romance for other people even though she never found any of her own. But it was just hitting her in a brand new, horrible way that . . . she’d been living her life through other people. Her friends, her customers, the couples she tried to fix up for better or worse. And that . . . it wasn’t really living at all. Other than Carl, back when she’d been young, the greatest romance of her life had been with . . . Mr. Knightley in Jane Austen’s
Emma
. Oh God—how pathetic was that? And she’d even named her cat after him! Was she insane?

Maybe. And if not insane, then pathetic definitely fit.
You’re thirty-four years old and you’ve lived your whole life in this little town, seeing the same people and doing the same things every single day, all the while waiting for something interesting to happen to you.
And it wasn’t happening. Nothing was happening. And it probably never would.

“What’s wrong, freckles?” Logan asked then, still wearing the sexy grin she now loved in a whole new way. “You look like you just ate something bad.”

“I, um, just . . .” Crap. Why couldn’t she act normal anymore?

Thankfully, Tessa spoke up. “I think Amy’s just getting worn out from bridesmaid duties. Two weddings so close together—and she’s being such a big help to both Rachel and me. We’re probably exhausting her.”

What a good friend Tessa was—Amy made a mental note to thank her later. Once she pulled herself back together.
If
she pulled herself back together.

“Well,” Logan said, his smile fading, “I came in to ask a favor, but maybe it’s not the best time.”

Logan needed something from her? At the moment, it felt as if he’d just breathed fresh life into her perishing body.
For you, anything.
“No, it’s fine. What do you need?”

Yet he still looked doubtful. “You sure? Because it can wait.”

“Absolutely. Fire away. What’s up?” Suddenly she could speak normally again.

“Well, you know how you’ve spent our entire adult lives trying to fix me up with different women?”

Oh my. What was this about? Where was it going? Her heartbeat kicked up, but she still managed to respond. “Only to have it fail miserably each and every time,” she reminded him, hoping she didn’t appear too happy about that.

A soft chuckle erupted from his throat, and—oh God—he was so, so cute. When had he gotten this cute? “I know, and I’m sorry about that. But, uh, something’s kinda changed.”

Now her chest tightened. Because she wanted to believe this was going to be a
good
change—like him announcing, “Freckles, I’m in love with you and I have to have you!”—but deep inside she knew it was going to be a bad one. In fact, she felt the words in the pit of her stomach before he even spoke them.

“I want you to fix me up with Anna.”

Five

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.”

Jane Austen, from
Emma

A
my tried to keep her jaw from dropping but wasn’t sure she succeeded.
Of course
Logan would ask her to fix him up with Anna—heck, he was probably surprised she hadn’t already thought of it herself. After all, she
was
the town matchmaker who usually couldn’t be stopped the second she sensed even the most miniscule hint of romance in the air. And God knew she’d sensed it between
those
two. A shame the very suggestion ripped her heart out.

“Oh, I think Amy’s plate is a little too full for matchmaking duties right now,” Tessa chimed in, still trying to help. “And besides, don’t you think Anna’s probably got more than enough going on, too?”

“I would,” Logan replied, switching his glance to Tessa, “but you saw us together the other night at Mike’s. I think she’s interested, but I figure a nudge from our little matchmaker here couldn’t hurt, you know? Amy’s the expert at this sort of thing, so I figure why not let her work her magic.”

Amy darted her gaze from Logan to her friend. What had Tessa seen at Mike’s? And why hadn’t she told Amy? Tessa’s slightly guilty expression confirmed that she had indeed held something back about Anna’s homecoming dinner, and the notion made Amy’s stomach churn harder than it already was.

Yet when Logan looked expectantly back at her, waiting for an answer, she said the only thing she really could. “Sure. Of course.”

Thankfully, he didn’t see Tessa’s eyes go wide since his gaze remained focused on Amy. The town matchmaker. Never before had that title sounded so horrible to her. “Thanks, freckles,” he said easily. “I knew I could count on you.”

“Always,” she said. Though it came out sounding more whispery than she’d intended. “Though . . . it may not be right away. I mean, it’s not like I really know her yet. You two already know her way better than I do.” Maybe this would get her out of it somehow since, already, she regretted agreeing to do it.

Yet Logan had a ready reply. “Yeah, but you’ll get to know her in no time, just like you do when anyone new comes to town.”

Darn it, she did always reach out to newcomers, trying to make them welcome. And if Logan wasn’t already so into Anna, Amy probably
would
be making a point of befriending her.
Why do I have to be so darn nice?

“
And the couples’ shower is coming,” he said, “so that’ll be a great time to chat her up a little.”

Once again, Tessa intervened. “Um, Amy’s running the shower, you know. She’s gonna have her hands full.”

But Logan just tossed Amy a grin. “If I know my freckles, she’ll be wanting to get to know Anna anyway, right?”

Amy swallowed back the lump in her throat. “Right,” she managed.

“Thanks again, freckles. I know you’ll weave your magic spell over Anna just like you do everyone else, and then I’ll be golden. Gotta go.”

“Where are you off to?” she asked.

“Gonna stop by the Dew Drop and see about that bartending job,” he said easily.

And now it was Amy whose eyes widened. “You’re still doing that? Because I just figured, now that you were feeling all revived and everything, that—”

“Nope,” Logan cut her off. “Still needing that new direction, so for now, as long as Anita will have me, the Dew Drop Inn it is.”

“Well, I still think that’s a rotten idea,” Amy informed him, “but for what it’s worth, I just saw Anita walk by a little while ago. So she might still be somewhere in town.”

“Great—I’ll see if I can find her. Catch you two later.” And he was out the door, exiting almost as unexpectedly as he’d arrived.

After the bell rang and the door fell shut, Amy and Tessa just looked at each other.

“What the hell is he going to the Dew Drop for?” Tessa asked at the precise moment Amy said, “What did you see at the Romo family dinner that you didn’t tell me?”

They both stayed silent for a moment until Amy decided to rush through an answer so they could move on to what felt more important at the moment—the unknown. “Logan has this cockamamie idea that he’s giving up firefighting. And while he’s figuring out what else he wants to do, he’s going to apply for the open position at the bar. Now what did you see?”

Tessa sighed, met Amy’s gaze, and looked more troubled than Amy liked. “Well, they just . . . seemed chummy, looked cozy. At the end of the night, they were hugging. But not like hugging goodbye—more like hugging across the room when they didn’t realize anyone saw them.”

Amy’s stomach dropped. It could have been worse and maybe she’d even been expecting something more awful, but the picture in her head stung.

Anna was beautiful and could surely have any guy she wanted. Why did she have to want Logan? And why on earth did Logan even think he needed her help anyway? He’d gotten further with Anna in a couple of hours than Amy ever hoped to get with Logan again. And sure, there’d been the kissing incident on the couch, but given that he hadn’t been fully aware it was her he’d been kissing, that just didn’t seem to count for much. Except in her mind. And her body. Both of which craved more.

“I’m an awful person,” Amy announced then.

Tessa looked skeptical. “Since when?”

“Since I have the nerve to be jealous of Anna Romo. After all she’s been through. I should be happy to fix her up with Logan if that’s what they both want. I should want them both to be happy.”

Though, in response, Tessa’s eyes narrowed and she said, “Are you crazy?”

Amy shrugged. “Lately I can’t really rule that out.”

Facing Amy, Tessa planted her hands on her hips and appeared almost angry. “Look, sympathizing with Anna for what she’s endured is one thing. But fixing her up with Logan is another. You have nothing to feel bad about at all. You’ve known Logan your whole life and you have big, new feelings for him, and of course you can’t want him to hook up with someone else, no matter who she is. Anna’s going through a difficult time right now, but that doesn’t mean you have to surrender Logan to her. And I can’t believe you agreed to fix them up!”

“Well, what else could I say? I mean, unless I want to confess my feelings, I have no reason to refuse. And surrender has nothing to do with this. You can’t surrender something you never had.”

Tessa shrugged. “Maybe not, but you can fight to have it.”

Amy just sighed. She appreciated Tessa’s support, but . . . “Seriously, Tessa, have you seen Anna? Have you noticed that she’s the most gorgeous thing to ever grace the Destiny town square? And has it occurred to you that if Logan was going to start having romantic feelings for me that it probably would not be at the very moment the most beautiful girl this town has ever produced is putting the moves on him?”

All of this actually quieted Tessa for a second and Amy felt she’d made some pretty irrefutable arguments. So it surprised her when Tessa finally walked over to the counter, standing across it from Amy, and said, “I’m not sure any of that matters, Ames.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember when I was first falling for Lucky? How I felt so desperate to just . . . live a little, to just somehow experience life before it passed me by?”

“Yes. And you got a tattoo. But I don’t think a tattoo is going to help me much. And I’m not sure I could pull it off anyway.”

Tessa just cocked her head at an annoyed angle. “If you’ll recall, the tattoo was only one way I chose to express myself and throw caution to the wind a little.”

Okay, true enough—Tessa had gone through an interesting transformation back then. And in fact, Amy thought her friend had really blossomed, come into her own, when all that happened. She’d discovered and indulged more of who she really was with no regrets, and the fact was, nothing but good had come from Tessa’s daring. Still . . . “What’s your point?”

“You’re at a crossroads right now, Amy, a big one.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I can feel it. You’re just not yourself lately—you want something more, just like I did. And I’m telling you, you have to be bold enough to just go for it.”

Amy blinked nervously. In honesty, she thought—feared—that Tessa was right; she was at a crossroads. She was suddenly dissatisfied with a life she’d always loved. She felt adrift, lost, abandoned—by something she couldn’t even name—and bored. Yet . . . “What is it I’m supposed to be going for, and how do I go for it?”

“The thing you’re going for is Logan, of course,” Tessa said. “But the how part is something only you can decide.”

Amy just gave her a helpless look. “I hate to tell you this since I know you’re trying to come to my aid, but . . . I have no idea what to do with that advice.”

“All I’m saying is . . . you have to do
something
. Right now. To change the way this is going. To change your life. You have to at least try. Because if you don’t, well . . . I just have a feeling you’ll always regret it.”

Those were pretty horrible, serious words and they sank into Amy’s bones. And then a hideous idea—complete with images—entered her head. That the next wedding in Destiny after the two already planned this summer would be Logan and Anna’s. And the whole town would rejoice at how perfect it all was. And Amy would be forced to stand there and watch them take vows that would join them together forever—and heck, knowing her, she’d probably be the one to pin on Logan’s boutonniere and hand out punch at the reception. And that . . . oh Lord, that would be the final nail in the coffin of her happiness. She’d just be
done
after that,
finished
—she couldn’t imagine ever feeling hopeful again if Logan married Anna.

Of course, she was being overly dramatic here, and getting way ahead of herself, but still . . . maybe Tessa was right. Maybe she needed to do something, make some sort of brave and dramatic move. “Okay,” she finally said.

And Tessa looked happily stunned. “Really?”

“Yes,” Amy said, trying to get used to the idea.

“What are you doing to do?” Tessa asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Amy said.

Only then, seized by just the beginning spark of inspiration, Amy stepped out from behind the counter and walked to the wide window near the easy chairs and looked out. Logan’s Grand Prix still sat parked along the curb outside. And as she leaned to glance farther down the street, she spotted Logan and Anita Garey, owner of the Dew Drop Inn, walking toward Dolly’s Main Street Café together. Logan had obviously found her and was using the opportunity to approach her about the job.

Then, as the notion in her head started to take more shape, she turned to face Tessa again. “What if . . . what if I wrote him a letter? From . . . a secret admirer.”

She waited for Tessa to be awed by the idea—only to hear her friend say, “Weak at best. But better than nothing if it’s all you’ve got.”

H
alf an hour later, Amy stood at the counter reading over the letter she’d painstakingly written on a sheet of scented blue stationery she kept under the bookstore counter for letters she occasionally wrote to her grandma. Though this was more of a note than a letter. The important part, she figured, was that it would let Logan know that someone else besides just Anna was interested in him. He would at least be curious—and maybe even intrigued. And between the options of this and simply blurting out a proclamation of love for him, this seemed much more manageable until she could figure out a Step 2.

Dear Logan,

To me, you are amazing. You are everything a woman could ever want in a man: kind, generous, loyal, loving. I wish I could tell you this in person, but I’m too shy. So for now, please just know that there is someone nearby who thinks you’re incredible and who dreams you might somehow feel the same way about her.

Your Secret Admirer

Then, fairly impressed with her work, she passed it across the counter to Tessa. Who sneered slightly. “Sounds kind of typical,” she said. “And you didn’t say anything about how attractive he is. Men want to know that sort of thing. They have huge egos.”

Amy hadn’t realized that, but . . . “I’m not sure I’m ready to go there, to say something like that. It sounds corny to me.”

Tessa simply gave her a look that said,
Do I have to do everything here?
“Corny or not, you have to include something like that. Men also want sex. You want him to think there’s a hot girl on the other end of this note, after all.” She waved the letter in the air as if to emphasize her point.

“But, um, there’s not,” Amy reminded her.

Which shifted Tessa’s look from annoyed to more . . . empathetic. “Of course there is,” she said softly.

Still, Amy knew the truth about herself. And it didn’t even bother her. Or . . . it hadn’t before now anyway. “Tessa, no one has ever thought I was hot in my entire life.”