Written on Her Heart (17 page)

“Nice to see you guys made up.” Heather snagged a hunk of ribs and smiled.

Nicholas sang along to the chorus and bobbed his head in time with the band. A bit of barbecue sauce clung to the edge of his lip.

“He’s silly for a guy who frowns so much,” she observed. Heather wiped her mouth and took the lemonade from his hand for a sip.

He looked her over and kept singing without complaint.

“Did you see those abs? You don’t get those on accident.”

“He’s sitting right there.” Emma pointed to the man beside her, now belting out the chorus to
Mountain Music
. He reached back for the lemonade without missing a beat of his song.

The girls giggled, and feeling safe, Emma nodded. Heather mouth the words
holy cow,
and they laughed some more. She hoped to get another look at that torso and an explanation for his scars soon.

“I mailed your packages this morning. You owe me like two-hundred bucks in postage. What’s next on the investigation front, Sherlock?” Heather leaned back on her elbows against the table.

“Maybe I can help. I’m great at investigation.” Nicholas turned to them mid-chorus.

“We’re looking for someone, but we don’t want anyone to know we’re looking. Not an easy task in this town.”

Emma whacked Heather’s shoulder and shook her head. Suddenly aware of dozens of eyes on them, she let her hair fall forward to block her face on one side. She was having so much fun she forgot how many people were already aware of her very public outing with Nicholas. The idea of hearing town gossip about the two of them gave her butterflies.

He wiped his hands on a napkin and licked his lips. “What’s his name? I probably know him.” The pair shut Emma out and continued without her.

“We don’t know.”

“How are you looking for someone if you don’t know who you’re looking for?” Nicholas sucked on the giant lemonade. He pulled it up to eye level and shook it before giving Heather a pointed stare.

“It’s a long story,” Emma interjected. “And I think we can let it go.”

“You don’t want to know?” Heather looked excited and a little pleased. Emma’s cheeks burned in response.

“No. Not anymore.”

Nicholas’s face swept back and forth like a spectator at a tennis match.

“Really?” Heather tipped her head in Nicholas’ direction and made muffled unintelligible speech sounds. “Mur
ber
mur
.” Another head tip.

Emma turned away speechless and became engrossed in the music, though she heard none of the lyrics. How humiliating. She blocked their voices out and prayed Heather wouldn’t tell him everything.

“Care to dance?” James sat beside her, and she jumped. “Sorry.” He winked. “I thought you saw me coming over. Do you dance?”

“Yes. Uh. I can’t tonight. I’m….” she looked over her shoulder to find Nicholas and Heather shoulder to shoulder, heads dipped in private conversation. Her heart sank. A steamroller flattened it, and then it caught fire. “Sure.”

Were they not on a date? Her most common mental state was confusion lately, and she hated it.

James led her into the thick of the crowd and surprised her to know a couples’ line dance. She dipped and swung around in time to catch Nicholas’ head pop up above the dancers. The look on his face bordered murderous, but wasn’t he just cuddled up with Heather? Where did Heather go? The world blurred, and her feet stomped in time on autopilot. When she looked for Nicholas again, she didn’t see him. Dizzy from the heat and twirling, she bounced into James when he stopped short on the next turn.

“May I?” Nicholas looked down at them. He replaced his scowl with concern.

The men examined one another until she thought they’d side up and start a spitting contest. James still held her wrist. Nicholas laid his hand over one of each of their shoulders. The tension ratcheted. Other couples stopped dancing to see what would come next.

“May I cut in?” Heather appeared on their other side, looking at James with big doe eyes. What on earth?

The foursome split down the middle, and Heather squinted at Emma as James twirled her away.

“I thought he wasn’t your type?” Nicholas watched them dance away.

“He’s not. Who said that?”

“Heather. Why’d you leave us?”

“You were busy, and he insisted.”

He muttered something that sounded like “is that all it takes” before asking, “You’re all right?” loud enough for her to hear.

“Fine.”

They stared at one another. When the circle of dancers swam back past, he lifted her as if she weighed nothing and set her down in the mix, sliding right in step between two other couples.

“What are you doing?” She protested weakly, admiring the way he moved with confidence and an easy smile plastered on his boyish face.

“Dancing. Sorry I didn’t ask you first. He shouldn’t have beat me to it.” An impish grin appeared. How could she be mad at that? If they dated, the dynamic would be unfair. He’d win every argument with that face.

“He’s not so bad.”

“Meh.” Nicholas shrugged and pulled her in close for a spin. “So you’re looking for a soldier?”

“Not really. Why? Do you know any?”

On a beat where she normally jumped, Nicholas tossed her higher than she expected and the world stopped. Just like every basket toss in college, she savored the moment caught between ceasing to rise and beginning to fall. That one moment always held on longer than the others. She saw her friends and family, her community happy below her. Then, she landed back in the safety of his arms. Nicholas kissed her forehead and set her on her feet.

“You want something to drink? That vacuum you call a girlfriend drank my lemonade.”

Emma nodded, and Nicholas led her away from the crowd of dancers toward a bright yellow and green lemonade stand. She watched her feet so as not to trip on the spilled cups around picnic tables. He held her hand gently, turning his palm enough to intertwine their fingers. If she looked up at that moment, she’d see all her friends and family noticing the small but intimate act. She hadn’t come to the festival with a date since high school. That wasn’t something the town ignored. She imagined the telephone tree of her mother’s friends calling one another on the spot to tell what they saw. And she liked it.

Thinking of all those people watching them, her hand ran to her collar. Nicholas caught it in his and pulled it away. “Don’t,” he whispered. Before taking his change from the lemonade vendor, he lowered his mouth to her ear. “You are beautiful.” A small squeeze of his fingers told her he meant it. She marveled at the thought.

Drink in hand, they walked the perimeter of the festival, watching. He kept one palm on the small of her back, gesturing with the drink into the crowd. He told her how much trouble he used to get in, and she felt a camaraderie form. He’d painted the school logo on shop windows with soap after winning basketball games. He’d piled hay bales against his teacher’s front door so she couldn’t get out when she gave him detention. They laughed together about how stupid they’d both been not long ago. He lit up brightest at a slew of stories involving his best friend Mack. Turned out she knew Mack’s little sister. She spent quite a few nights in their back yard for bonfires. The two girls weren’t close, but imagining the delicate web that intertwined her community warmed her.

Nicholas groaned and released a low oath. Emma looked up to search his face for the reason. All she saw from her vantage was bodies packed against bodies. Then the crowd broke open thirty feet away, and Clarissa appeared. Her eyes glued to Nicholas, she didn’t look at Emma. One hand smoothed her sculpted bangs over her forehead.

“Can I say I’m sorry in advance?” Nicholas pleaded with his eyes. Emma frowned. Did he know how uncomfortable Clarissa made her?

“Nicky!” Clarissa popped onto her toes and air kissed his cheek. He didn’t return the gesture. “I’ve looked everywhere for you. No one knew where to find you.”

Funny. Hadn’t everyone seen them together? Maybe Nicholas was right. Maybe the town was more tight-lipped than she imagined.

And then she saw Emma.

Her already fake smile pulled tighter, revealing more teeth. The look reminded Emma of Wild Planet where apes showed teeth as a threat. She licked her lips, letting her eyes follow the length of his arm behind Emma’s back. He squeezed his fingers into her side, tugging her subtly closer.

“Emma.” Clarissa’s breathing grew shallow.

“I thought we were meeting tonight.” She shot a pointed look at Nicholas who frowned.

“Why?”

“You said you’d be here.”

“I am.”

“With Emma!” The snarl startled the three of them, and Clarissa stepped back, regrouping. She eyed them with contempt. “I thought you were different. You can have anyone, Nicholas Fenton. Why on earth are you here with her?” The fury in her voice almost sounded like hurt. Emma wanted to tell her to get a life, but Clarissa kept going. “She talks to no one. She thinks she’s too good for her old friends. She’ll dump you too soon enough.” Clarissa glared between them and left knocking into a half dozen people. Making a scene. Her specialty.

“You two know each other?” Nicholas looked wide-eyed at her.

“About as well as she seems to know you.” If he’d slept with Clarissa, so help her, she was going home to slit her wrists. Period. And what was she so angry with Emma for? For being seen with Nicholas? She didn’t own him. For not jumping back into BFF mode the minute she came knocking? Excuse her for having things to work through on her own for a while. Or five years.

“Clarissa’s been stalking me since junior high. She got over it while I was in the service, but since I’ve been back, she’s worked herself into high gear. She’s Mack’s little cousin.”

“Mack.” Recognition dawned and she thudded one palm against her forehead.

How could one town be so small and so distant at the same time? She was Clarissa’s best friend all through high school. Clarissa never mentioned Nicholas. They’d been to her Cousin Mack’s house a dozen times senior year for bonfires and softball games. “When were you in the service?”

“Probably while you were in high school. Five years difference, remember.”

She filed that away for later. “You aren’t in the Veteran’s Day pamphlet from church.” Who else might have been left out?

“I couldn’t find a decent picture.”

She chewed her lips hard enough to hurt. “So, have you and Clarissa ever…” she trailed off suggestively.

He put his palms up as if she caught him robbing a bank. “I have never had relations with that woman.”

“I am not joking. This is serious.”

“So am I. I’ve never touched her. Well, I have. I kissed her one New Year’s when I was home on leave. It was midnight.” He smiled like it made perfect sense, and she wavered.

“Gross.”

“It was a little bit. How about you and James?”

Emma kicked him.

“Hey! I need to know these things.”

“Why’s that?”

Nicholas turned and looked down into her face with earnest. “I don’t want to run him out of town. He just got here.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in the military?”

“You never asked.”

He had her there. She didn’t ask. He never dodged a question. If she didn’t know something about him, she had one person to blame, and that person looked a lot like her.