Chapter 1 #3
“Moore!” Tim shouted up. “You were smart! You never dated her! You’re just friends. Stay in the friend zone, man. Don’t do it or she’ll hurt you!”
Now Tomes glared at her, but turned to Moore. “Excuse me, sir. I’m in the middle of talking to…” He looked at her with suspicion. “Name?”
“Colleen Luview.”
As she said her surname, the officer jolted. “Luview? As in Love You, Maine? The town?”
“Yes, sir.”
Tomes glanced down at his left hand. A beautiful platinum ring rested on it, the metal textured as if someone had taken thin branches from trees and braided them.
“I was married there.” He looked at Moore, tilting his head. “And I swear I know you.”
Charm was something Moore had in spades, an easygoing, affable manner he didn’t so much turn on as access through his daily life. Colleen felt him go from concerned to engaged as he offered his hand to the cop and said, “Talia. October 2021, right? You’re Alberto.”
The officer’s squint instantly changed to an expression of pleasure while the paramedics began evaluating Tim, who was now groaning in pain and apparently unable to continue accusing Colleen of conjuring the dark arts.
“The jeweler! You’re the guy at Love You Jewelry. I’m sorry, man. I don’t remember your name.”
“Moore. Moore Mottin.”
As they shook hands, Officer Tomes gave Moore his full attention, pulling him two steps away from Colleen.
Another officer, a short woman with a dark ponytail under her cap, waved at Tomes, who then gestured toward the mess of cars.
She immediately began directing traffic, while a third cop talked to the kid who actually hit Tim.
You know. The one who really hurt him.
Within ten seconds, Moore was chatting up Alberto as if they were best buds who happened to run into each other. Colleen’s dad always joked that Moore could climb Mount Everest and find someone he knew at the top.
“Look, man, it’s nice to see you again, but this situation is, ah…” Officer Tomes looked at Colleen, then Tim. “You know these two?”
The impish look Moore gave her made it clear he desperately wanted to crack a joke, but now was not the time. In that way old friends have of communicating telepathically, she sent him a stern no with three eye twitches, along with some choice nonverbal profanity.
“Sure. Colleen’s a nurse in Luview. Her brother is the new chief of police and he’s my best friend.”
Magic words. Magic, magic words.
“Why didn’t you say so?” the cop admonished her. “I didn’t realize you’re practically family.”
“I, uh–”
“Don’t date her!” Tim rasped as the paramedics stabilized his neck and lifted him onto a stretcher. “Don’t do it, bro!”
Officer Tomes held up his left hand. “I’m married.”
“I meant Moore! Colleen’s playing a long game with you. She’ll get you under her spell like she got me. All these years, I thought her ears stuck out a little too much for my taste–”
Colleen reached up and felt her earlobes. What?
“–and when she kisses, she bites–”
“HEY!” she shouted, earning a look from Moore that said this was going to be town gossip unless she paid for all their dart games for the next month.
“–and now she broke my leg!”
Moore rolled his eyes. “She didn’t do a thing to Tim.”
“Then what’s he going on about, that she’s evil and cursed?”
“He never said evil.”
“He certainly implied it.”
“Third Date Colleen,” Moore explained as if he were giving him directions to a gas station. “Every guy Colleen makes it to a third date with somehow ends up injured, in her emergency room.”
“You’re serious?” Tomes gaped.
“No, he’s not. Because Tim and I had our third date a few days ago and he’s not in my ER,” Colleen replied with a sniff.
“But this is close enough to the curse,” Moore argued. “Jake sliced himself with the hedge trimmer. Joe got that snake bite. Gerry had food poisoning. Mike–”
Officer Tomes cut him off.
“You’re serious? Every single guy?”
“Yep.”
“Then why are you with her?”
Moore’s face went blank with astonishment. “Me?” he said in a two-toned voice.
“Yeah. You two are together, right?”
“Oh, no!” Colleen chimed in. “I’m just picking him up from the airport. I’m dating Tim.”
“ARE NOT!” Tim called out as the medics slid him into the back of their ambulance, the doors closing on that parting shot.
Tomes laughed softly through his nose. “Sounds like you’re on the market again, Ms. Luview.”
“Call me Colleen. And besides, Moore and I–no way. We’re just friends.”
“My wife and I were ‘just friends,’ too.”
The female officer jogged over and Tomes said goodbye quickly. Horns blared behind them and Colleen realized she needed to get back to the truck.
Thank goodness.
Without a word, Moore followed her, shoving his carry-on in the back seat then climbing in.
Heart smacking against her chest like she was clapping at one of her niece’s soccer games, Colleen pulled away from the curb as Moore clicked his seatbelt in place, twisting back to get one more look at poor Tim.
“Huh. The only thing worse than that would’ve been if you were the one to hit him.”
“I hate you.”
“Is that any way to greet one of your best friends?”
“When it’s you with that mouth of yours? Yes.”
“‘Welcome home, Moore,’” he said in a sing-songy voice. “‘It’s good to have you back, Moore.’”
“Not when you tease me about–” she waved her right hand in the air in a vague way meant to convey the mess that was her love life. “That.”
“Third Date Colleen?”
“You know I hate that phrase.”
“Unfortunately, the universe just proved it true.”
“Technically,” she said, her voice going high and reedy with emotion, “that didn’t count.”
“Tim got hit by a car after going on a third date with you, Colleen.”
“But he won’t end up in my emergency room. Therefore, it’s not part of the curse.”
The sound Moore made in the back of his throat did not inspire confidence.
Or make her anger recede.
“If you say so.”
“It’s true!”
“Just because it’s true doesn’t mean poor Tim is going out on a fourth date with you.”
The words made a salty-sour flavor pour into the back of her throat, tears threatening.
“I know,” she said softly, Moore’s head jerking to look at her, his expression making this harder.
Because all she saw on his face was pity.
And pity was the last thing she wanted from Moore.
Driving forced her out of her head and heart and into the very real world of vehicles and logistics. No need to add another accident to her day. Remembering the angle of Tim’s tibia made her wince.
“I’m sorry,” Moore said with a sigh. “I shouldn’t tease you like that.”
“You always tease me like that.”
“Yeah, but it lands different when it’s raw.”
Her spidey sense went off.
“You sound like you’ve got something raw going on yourself.” She made a left turn, watching cars whoosh by, the light flurries causing her to worry a bit.
Moore automatically turned the radio to the local news station. If you learned anything growing up in Maine, it was to always check the weather in winter. Freak snowstorms were a way of life.
“Yeah.”
“Jordy?”
“This time, it’s Cammie. She’s pregnant.”
“Again?”
“And getting remarried.”
“Dave proposed?”
His ex-wife, Cammie, had a love life that was like musical chairs, and there was nothing Moore could do about the revolving door of men in their life.
Cammie’s last long-term boyfriend had been Mike, a minor-league baseball player, with whom she’d had a daughter, Jordy’s half-sister Soria, who was now three years old.
They’d split up and Mike had virtually no contact with his daughter. Moore never pried, but wondered if Cammie was doing to Mike what she’d done to Moore: block access to his kid.
Then came Dave.
Dave was an actuary. Boring as cardboard, but steady. Cammie and Dave had been living together since Moore’s son, Jordy, was nine, which meant Dave had lived with Jordy for longer than Moore had, technically.
Lots of technicalities today.
“No. In fact, Dave dumped her.”
“WHAT?”
“Fell in love with a supply chain manager for some auto parts company. According to Jordy, Dave got ‘tired of being Cammie’s meal ticket for her kids,’ which makes me wonder what she’s said over the years about money.
I pay way more than the required child support, all of Jordy’s extras. ..” He sighed.
“Then who’s she marrying?”
“Guy named Locke Enlode.”
“Can you repeat that name?”
“Locke. Enlode.”
“Huh?”
“First name is Locke. Last name is Enlode.”
“Lock ’n Load? No! Sounds like a fake name. Like a porn star name.”
“He’s a minor league baseball player. Pitcher.”
“Oh.” Colleen’s heart sank.
Then it sank again.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t say a word, the opening too good to pass up as cars lined up behind her. Pulling out, she looked at the road and saw enough slush already accumulated to make a mental calculation.
Before she could reply to Moore, the radio announcer cut in:
“Severe storm warning for Lake Winnipesaukee and surrounding areas...”
As they listened to the report, Moore’s eyebrows went up, his slow, deep inhale a sign he was taking the information in and processing it.
Colleen had literally known Moore since the day he was born, the Mottins and the Luviews being friends in town, but also because her brother Luke was three days older than Moore.
Colleen was two years older than the both of them.
There wasn’t an expression, a sigh, a grunt, a laugh that Moore Mottin could make that Colleen hadn’t heard before.
Other than a sound of passion.
Cheeks heating up at the thought, Colleen ignored the tingling that raced through her, taking a deep breath to center herself. As she did, Moore’s aftershave filled her senses.
And scrambled her inner signals even more.
“Bad storm. Should we re-route?” Moore asked.
“There aren’t many options. We’re in Manchester. It’s two hours either way. We can either go west of Lake Winnipesaukee or east of it and go up through Portland.”