2. Austen
TWO
AUSTEN
The backyard of my childhood home was teeming with people. At least eight of my brother’s fellow reservists were here with various members of their families. Dad manned the grill, turning out burgers and brats in high volume. Mom was flitting about, making sure everybody knew where the drink coolers were, and I’d been made the de facto greeter. I didn’t mind. I knew almost everyone here. Partly because it was a small town and partly because I dealt with the public daily at my bookstore, Plot Twist. It seemed like most of Huckleberry Creek came through my doors at one point or another.
Still, it was exceptionally weird to be having this cookout when Rhett wasn’t here. It was so typical that he hadn’t told any of us he’d been hurt. He pulled the same shit when he occasionally got injured in his regular job as a firefighter, but his captain could always be counted on to keep us informed. Mom and Dad had already spoken to Rhett on the phone and been reassured. Mom one-thousand percent read him the riot act, proving that she was actually scarier than Dad, who was Chief of Police in our tiny town. Rhett was under strict orders to update us at least twice weekly on his recovery progress. He still hadn’t actually given any details about what had happened or what sort of injuries he’d sustained, but for now, it was enough to know he’d be coming home all in one piece. Eventually.
A new cluster of people came through the side gate from the front. Kellan Fox and his family. My friend Tate Cavannaugh was with them. Not a surprise. She and Kellan were business partners and besties. But as I headed toward them, I noted their linked hands and the way they were walking really close together. What was going on there?
“Welcome home, Kellan! Welcome to the party, everybody.”
He flashed a broad smile. “Thanks. It’s great to be home.” Then he lifted the hand he held and pressed a kiss to the back of it.
Tate beamed, but there was a slightly manic edge to it.
I caught her eye and arched my brows slightly, asking the obvious: When did this happen? The faint shake of her head begged me not to ask right this second. I pursed my lips to communicate, Lucy, you got some splainin’ to do. She sure as hell was gonna dish about everything later.
“There are burgers and brats, and about a million sides. The food tables are just over that way.” I gestured toward the back deck. “Please, enjoy yourselves.”
As soon as they moved off, I found myself scanning the crowd for Clint, as if he’d somehow managed to sneak in while I was otherwise occupied. At this point, I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to see him or if I wanted to run the other way.
Fresh embarrassment heated my cheeks over my earlier behavior. The monkey hug had been a natural outpouring of joy. Something I’d done since I was a kid. But clearly it was time to put away childish things, because holy shit, it had been so awkward and weird. Nothing about it had felt innocent anymore, and clearly, he’d had no idea what to do with it other than to hang on so I didn’t land flat on my ass.
I’d just been so buzzed with excitement since I’d found out he was coming home. Of course, I was thrilled they were all home safe. That was a concern every time their reserve unit got deployed. But it wasn’t the same with the others. Sure, I’d sent care packages. That was just the kind thing to do. But I hadn’t written any of them. I didn’t have a collection of letters and emails back from anyone else. There weren’t a lot of them. I understood the sort of limitations they faced on deployment. But they meant something to me. He meant something.
I’d known Clint all my life. We’d always been friends. I mean, yeah, okay, I’d also had a crush on him growing up. That was practically mandatory in the Little Sister Handbook. But that was fine. I was over it. Mostly. We were good friends, and that was all.
You doth protest too much, lady.
“Austen.”
Hearing my name in his familiar drawl sent all the butterflies aflutter in my belly. And for this brief moment, before I turned to face him, I could acknowledge to myself that my crush was alive and well.
You’ve got this.
Dialing my smile to friendly but not too eager, I turned. “Hey. I didn’t realize you were here.”
“Your mom snagged me off the front walk and dragged me through the house.”
“How many things did she try to feed you before she let you come outside?”
“Only four. You know she always thinks we need fattening up after we come home from deployment.”
Do not look at his abs. Do not.
“You love it.”
He patted those flat abs beneath the gray henley that molded to his leanly muscled chest. “Yes, yes, I do. Though, full disclosure, I inhaled half a huckleberry cobbler from Pie Hard before I came here. I might not put quite as much a dent in this spread as she expects.”
I laughed. “Somehow, I feel like you’re up to the challenge.”
Something in his easy posture shifted, and his smile turned serious. “Can I talk to you?”
My own smile strained at the edges. “You are talking to me.”
“Privately.”
Oh God. Was he going to address the totally inappropriate full-body hug? Like I didn’t already realize how awkward I’d made things?
Swallowing, I jerked my head toward an out-of-the-way corner of the yard, where my old rope swing hung from the limb of a massive oak tree. “Sure.”
We wandered over, and I automatically sank onto the swing, wrapping my hands around the ropes because I needed to keep them occupied.
Clint arched a brow. “Is that thing still safe?”
“It’s fine.” I knew no such thing, but I was praying the Universe did me a solid and didn’t send me crashing to the ground by allowing one of the ropes to snap. “What did you want to talk about?”
He rocked back on his heels, one hand shoved into a pocket. His obvious discomfort ratcheted my sense of dread higher.
“I just wanted to say how much hearing from you meant to me on this deployment. All the books and letters really made all the difference in keeping my outlook up this tour, and I just appreciate all the effort you went to.”
Taken aback, because this wasn’t remotely what I’d been expecting, for a moment I could only blink. “Of course. I’m really glad you made it home safe.”
Cue silence. Awkward silence. I fought not to grimace. We’d never been awkward before, and I could only blame myself for that completely inappropriate full-body hug. I needed to say something to get us back on even keel.
“So, what’s the latest gossip? The guys all appreciated the updates on what was going on here at home.”
Grateful for the lifeline, I racked my brain for some kind of entertaining anecdote to share. “Oh, well, you remember Mr. Guthrie, the retired shop teacher from the high school?”
“The one who’s always going on about ‘varmints’ in his vegetable garden?”
“That’s the one. Well, he finally snapped. He’s trained his chickens to be guard dogs. I kid you not—he’s got a flock of Rhode Island Reds that chase off anyone who gets near his property. Last week, Poor Tim from the post office got cornered trying to deliver a package. The whole town heard him squawking louder than the chickens.”
Clint snickered, so I kept going.
“Now, Animal Control is all in a tizzy because technically chickens aren’t against the leash laws, and there’s no official ordinance forbidding chickens in the city limits. Meanwhile, Mr. Guthrie’s actually offering to train other people’s chickens. He’s calling it ‘Bawk and Order Security Service.’ Half the town thinks he’s off his rocker, but I heard Mrs. Peterson is seriously considering it for her prize-winning petunias, and the Garden Club is having him as a guest speaker next month.”
His outright laughter broke the weird tension, and I hoped maybe we’d be back to normal now.
“Austen, I need to talk to you.”
Dragging my focus away from Clint, I found my cousin, Gretchen, hands knit together with obvious anxiety. This had become her default state over the past few months as she planned her wedding, and I wondered what latest thing she was freaking out about.
“Hey Gretch. This is Clint Ramsey. Clint, this is my cousin Gretchen. She’s getting married soon.”
Gretchen offered a tight smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same. And congratulations. I’ll just leave you two to it.” With a nod, he strode away.
I tried to tamp down my irritation. It wasn’t like she was trying to run him off on purpose. And obviously, something was on her mind.
“What’s up?”
Gretchen fidgeted. “This whole wedding planning thing has been so stressful.”
“I hear that’s pretty standard. Have you been caught between your mom and Kevin’s?”
“Oh, no. Not really. They’ve been great. Everybody’s been generally great. It’s just a lot of moving parts and details.”
“Uh huh. And what does any of that have to do with me?”
She bit her lip. “I want you to know that I didn’t know until two weeks ago, and I was trying to figure out a way around it.”
“A way around what? Spit it out.”
“Trevor is one of Kevin’s groomsmen.” She said it fast, all in one breath.
I blinked. “Trevor. My ex, Trevor?”
She nodded. “And he’s bringing his new girlfriend as his plus one. I’m really sorry. I know that’s awkward, but I don’t feel like I can tell Kevin he’s not allowed to come. I didn’t know they were college buddies.”
“It’s fine.”
“Truly?” Gretchen’s blue eyes welled with hopeful tears.
It absolutely wasn’t fine, but my default was to try de-escalating the situation. No matter how awful I felt being the dumpee, Gretchen’s wedding wasn’t about me, so I had absolutely no right to make a stink about it.
“Of course. Don’t you worry another minute about it.”
“Oh, thank you, Austen!” She threw her arms around me in a hug. “I’ve been so stressed about this. I’m so glad it’s no big deal.”
“No big deal,” I echoed. “Now, go enjoy the party.”
Gretchen strode away, and I sank back down on the rope swing.
Trevor was going to be at the wedding. I’d already been dreading facing all the nosy relatives who I knew would opine on my single status and try to set me up with pity dates. But now a ball of noxious anxiety settled in my gut. It had nothing at all to do with my not being over him. I was well rid of the jackass. But how could I go to this wedding alone and face him when he’d clearly moved on?
Maybe I could find the nearest sick person and contract a conveniently timed case of the flu, so I didn’t have to actually go. That was the best option, right?