Chapter Eighteen #2
“Oh, my Lord.” She grabbed his arm, and he flinched, steadying their food. “Those words just came out of your mouth.”
“Be careful before we both end up wearing this.” He thumbed the tip of her nose. “Think you’re real cute, don’t you?”
She grabbed a pair of plastic cups filled with punch and gave him a saucy look over her shoulder. “I have you, don’t I?”
He stilled, staring down at her. His throat moved with a swallow. “Yeah, you have me.”
The moment stretched, chatter and generic jazz music falling away.
Her chest tight, she smiled. “Good. I’m glad.”
His features softened, and he gestured toward the yard. “Come on and let’s spend some time with my cousin who’s still the joy of your life.”
“You clearly have no idea what my relationship with Lamar is truly like.” Handing him a cup, she took their plate and sashayed the best she could in the worst-choice-of-her-life shoes.
She probably looked like one of those white water birds, picking her way over the grass with exaggerated steps.
“I think the word you were looking for was the biggest pain of my life. He’s so stubborn he’s stupid sometimes. ”
His small noise might have been humor or agreement. Maybe both.
She spotted Tick and Caitlin at one of the tall standing tables — because no one would need to sit down and rest tired feet, Andrea — deep in conversation, one of those flirtatious arguments they had.
She shook her head. They always had that look about them, like every little fuss ended in bed and they liked it that way.
Lamar probably picked fights for no reason so they could make up.
Sure enough, he cradled her face in both hands and lowered his head to kiss her, a full-on this-is-my-woman kiss. Anyone would think he hadn’t been forced through cotillion like the rest of them.
Rolling her eyes, she elbowed him in the kidney as she reached the table, setting the plate and her cup down with more force than she intended. Her nerves were shot tonight. “Save that for when you get home.”
He slanted a scowl at her, his expression smoothing out as Colt joined them, his own features schooled into impassive lines. Definitely time to knock their heads together, but not tonight.
She had enough of her own to deal with, thank you very much.
David and Lorraine joined them, diluting the tension, so laughter and conversation drifted around the table. Soon enough, David had his phone out, filling Tick in on football plays he’d missed because he’d fallen asleep on the couch.
“Yeah, I missed that.” Tick squinted at David’s phone screen, a video of yet another moment from the afternoon. “I dozed off, and someone flipped the channel to get her Zafir fix.”
Next to Holly, Colton straightened, a slight frown between his brows.
“Zafir bin al . . . something, right?” Colt gestured with a cheese cube and chunk of pepperoni speared on a toothpick. “The actor from the Middle East.”
“Yes. You know him?” Caitlin’s smile flashed so wide, Holly blinked. Where had that come from? The other woman usually defined reserved.
“Yeah.” A quick grin flashed over Colt’s face.
“I serviced the Rosewood Inn out on Nineteen, and it worked better if I went early. The night auditor is from Saudi Arabia, and she loves that guy, has the movies on every night. Let me guess, you were watching the new one where he marries the woman carrying his dead brother’s kid? ”
“Actually, yes.”
And they were off, immersed in a conversation about the merits of this film or that one, Caitlin unwinding in a way Holly rarely witnessed. Tick stiffened a moment, glanced at Caitlin, then subsided into his sports discussion with David.
“The alien movie? Way better.” Colt popped a green olive in his mouth.
His stance relaxed further, and he leaned his weight on one hip.
A sudden happiness fizzing through her, Holly caught Lorraine’s eye and smiled, a do-you-see-this-miracle flashing between them.
This singular moment might be worth the ordeal of being here after all.
She allowed the conversation to wash over her, relaxing into the calm around their table, enjoying this glimpse into what could be. Even if Tick and Colt weren’t interacting, this had to be the longest she’d seen them in each other’s company in years.
The sticky residue from her chocolate-covered apple slice clung to her fingers despite wiping them on a napkin. She nudged Colt’s arm, loath to disturb his conversation, and tiptoed to whisper in his ear. “Be right back.”
She picked her way across the yard, speaking to a handful of acquaintances along the way.
Her cheeks burned under their curious glances as they asked why she hadn’t helped with the party this year.
She and Scott hadn’t been a couple for real, out in the open, but she felt like everyone knew he’d dumped her, chosen Andrea over her.
Of course, could someone be dumped when the relationship had never really existed?
Lord, Colt was right. She was stuck in an awful loop. Did he live like this all the time?
She slipped into the powder room off the laundry area to freshen up and wash her hands. Grimacing, she regarded herself in the mirror. The emotional turmoil showed in her face, tight little lines about her eyes and mouth.
“Get it together, Holly Noelle.” She stuck her tongue out at her reflection. “He’s right. You’re moping, and that’s not fair . . . you know you’d be a bitch if he acted like this over an ex.”
Pushing away from the sink, she flicked her bangs away from her face, straightened her shoulders and prepared to plunge back into the fray with an improved attitude.
She swung the door open and stepped right into Scott’s back.
The container of napkins in his hand smacked on the washer, cascading to the floor from the open end.
“Damn.” He bent to scoop them up. A few fluttered about the pointed toes of her pumps. “Sorry . . . I wasn’t expecting anyone to step out like that.”
She crouched to help him collect the errant paper squares. “It’s okay.”
He stilled, fingers gripping a haphazard spray of paper. “Holly.”
“Hey.” She reached for the napkins he held – an easier choice than the cloth napkins she’d used every year, something thin and temporary and easily disposable. “Let me throw those away.”
He relinquished them to her, rising as she did. His sharp blue gaze dipped over her, but she ignored the sensation while dumping the ruffled napkins in the trash.
Dusting her hands with ridiculous care, she smiled. “It’s a nice party. Andrea did a great job.”
Something evocative flickered over his face, tightening his features before his expression smoothed out. “She tried hard.”
Biting the inside of her bottom lip and trying to maintain her smile, Holly nodded.
Lord, they were so awkward.
It made her heart hurt.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Scott jammed his hands in his pockets. He tilted his head toward the door. “You bring him with you?”
“I did.” She ended each syllable with cut-glass precision. “He’s talking to Caitlin and Lorraine while Tick talks football with David.”
Scott nodded. Silence stretched between them, muffled chatter and that flat jazz drifting in. Scott’s mouth drew to a thin line, his gaze heavy on her face.
“Are you happy with him?”
The low, rough question seemed dragged free of his throat. Her breath caught, a sharp pain in her chest.
Her answer came easy enough. She swallowed, moistening her upper lip. “Yes.”
His stance stiffened, and he glanced away, mouth tighter. He gave a short jerk of a nod. “Good. I’m glad.”
A pause hung, then he swung that piercing blue gaze back to her.
“I want that for you.”
Her chest panged again, lungs constricted, a weight pressing in so she couldn’t get enough air. This shouldn’t be so hard. She concentrated on drawing in small sips of air.
“I want the same for you.” She brushed her hair away from her eyes.
Asking if Andrea made him happy was pointless – he wasn’t seeking happiness with her or anyone else.
He wanted uncomplicated and convenient, a paper napkin of a relationship requiring little or no maintenance.
He wanted someone who would be satisfied with a transactional relationship.
And that would never have been Holly.
The realization washed shaky relief through her. No matter how hard she tried, she’d never be what he wanted, and expecting him to be what she wanted was unfair when he couldn’t be that, either. They were doing the right thing, this awkward and painful uncoupling.
She was already what Colt wanted, without trying, and even with the emotional weight he carried, he was everything she hoped for.
The strain of the evening evaporated on her next exhale, and she smiled, perhaps her first real smile of the night. “I really want good things for you, Scott.”
A half-smile tipped up the corners of his mouth, ever so slightly. “I know.”
Beneath his bluster and hard edges, he wanted the same for her. She smoothed her bangs with one finger. “This will get easier.”
It already was easier, with this obstacle breached.
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat and gestured toward the door. “I should get out there.”
“Sure.” Shoulders straight, she preceded him outside. Across the yard, Colt laughed at something Caitlin shared, humor and surprise lighting him up like the brightest holiday lights. He waved a hand over the table, palm down, fingers spread, grinning with whatever his rejoinder was.
Holly paused, drinking in that moment, vaguely aware of Scott making his way over to join Andrea.
Colt spoke again, punctuating with his hands, so himself in that moment her chest ached.
Drawn by the enjoyment on his face, she took a step toward him, then another, her lightest, surest steps of the evening.
Suddenly she couldn’t wait to be by his side, filled with the urge to touch him and be close to him.
She crossed the grass, navigating the grass and the unfamiliar heels with growing confidence, sure of where she wanted — needed — to be.