Chapter 5
Gwendolyn
Icouldn’t look away no matter how hard I tried. I thought for sure my eyes would pop right out of my head when I watched the car wreck that was an unsuspecting Logan getting attacked via the lips of his monstrous ex-girlfriend.
She always had impeccable timing, though.
I was falling into the trap that was Logan’s hazel eyes that seemed more gold than green this morning.
Probably thanks to the grin that seemed permanently placed on his lips since I found him standing at my front counter.
It was for the best that Camila chose right then to walk in as I was unconsciously finding myself gravitating closer and closer to the man in front of me.
Two more minutes and I would have been laid out on the table, begging for more of his attention.
I forgot having his eyes solely focused on me was a heady feeling.
He doesn’t allow her lips to touch his for longer than a beat. His hands quickly go to her shoulders and push her away.
“Camila, what the fuck?” He takes a step back, hitting his back against the counter. His eyes are wild, looking like he’s ready to be anywhere else but here. “You can’t just come up and grab me like that. We are not together. Haven’t been for awhile, and that was your doing.”
Camila rolls her big sky-blue eyes that I used to be so envious of.
Actually, everything about Camila Antonio made me envious.
Her shampoo commercial brunette hair that always fell in perfect bouncy waves, to her trim waist on her hourglass figure that had all the boys tracking her every move.
Her flared chest and hips are a pinup girl’s dream that always made me feel childish.
I felt like I had toned up nicely in my adult years, thanks to the Pilates videos I do religiously, but I still couldn’t help but compare myself to her even now.
But the one thing I was always the most envious of was her relationship with Logan Spencer. Not that that was all that shocking. I bet any girl, and even some guys, would say the same thing from our school days.
“That was a big misunderstanding, babe.”
Logan puts one hand on his hip and the other against his brow, squeezing his eyes together as if he could scrub something from his sight. His coffee sits forgotten on the counter. I had the urge to reach out and console the forgotten beverage because I knew exactly how that felt.
“What do you want, Cami?”
“First of all, I want my usual,” she snaps in my direction. I jolt as I’m pulled from watching the soap opera unfolding before me. “Gwendolyn, are you done eavesdropping so you can get that ready or not?”
I flinch as if she slapped me. Embarrassment floods my body as I keep from looking back at Logan, even though I can feel his eyes on me.
I don’t say a word as I turn directly to the espresso machine.
Unfortunately, I do know her usual. She made sure to hammer it into my head early on when we opened, stating she should never have to wait for her skinny iced white mocha with an extra shot ever again.
Apparently, she was more important and always busier than the rest of the town—her exact words that had me seeing red, but I realized some battles were not worth it, and fighting the mayor’s secretary was definitely not that.
Of course, she was her ex-boyfriend’s father’s secretary.
She wasn’t at the meeting yesterday, thank all that was holy, because according to Mrs. Spencer, she had a doctor’s appointment.
If the fresh puffiness of her overlined lips was any indicator, I think we can all guess which doctor she was visiting.
“Don’t be such a brat, Camila,” Logan comes to my defense.
I can’t bring myself to look at them again, but the anger is clear in his voice. It makes me want to crawl into a hole as I remember how often he came to my rescue in high school when she would interrupt our study sessions.
“Whatever, she’s so nosy,” Camila whines. She adds something else in a lower voice, but I can’t hear her as I scoop out ice from our machine for her cup.
I work fast, taking her drink over to the register to get this over with as quickly as possible. I quietly ring her up and wait for her to tap her card on the reader. We had become pros at this exchange and it required minimal talking.
I dare a glance up to Logan, catching his questioning look directed right on my face. Suddenly the pop-up on the screen asking if she wanted a receipt was very interesting as I took my time declining it for her.
“Have a great day,” I say in a low voice and take the moment to attempt my exit.
I’m sure there’s something I can busy myself with behind the counter until they leave.
I stare at the front door longingly, silently begging for a rush of people to come in.
Instead, the cute little family that was planning their hiking day leaves while calling out a thank you with big smiles and waves.
“Wait, Gwen,” Logan says, stopping my movements any further. “What time did you want to meet up later?”
I can feel the fiery look Camila is shooting in my direction, but I steel my spine and only look at the hopeful face of Logan before lying through my teeth to save myself.
Laying it on thick, I place my hand on my forehead and pretend to think. “Actually, I just remembered I have something I have to do today, so that won’t work.”
His brows furrow. “Okay… What about tonight? I can bring some dinner over and we can brainstorm.”
“Lo,” Camila interjects. Her talons—I mean fingers—grasping his arm until he pulls it away. “We have dinner with your parents tonight.”
He side-eyes her. “What are you talking about? What dinner?”
“Your mom and I were talking on the phone last night and thought it would be a great idea. I was going to call you today, but as luck would have it, I just ran into you here.” She beams up at him as if it were a mere coincidence.
I’m sure someone saw him in town and reported his whereabouts.
Or worse, she probably has a tracker on his person somewhere.
Logan sighs, opening his mouth to say something, but I interrupt, waving my hand in his direction.
“It’s fine. I have a bunch of ideas already. How about I just email them to you?” I flash a smile that feels pained, and I hope like hell it doesn’t look that way.
Logan doesn’t seem like he wants to take that for an answer as his eyes squint toward me and he purses his lips. Camila pulls on his arm again, which thankfully pulls his attention from me. I release the breath I was holding when I feel their eyes leave me.
“Have a great day!” I repeat with some forced pep. Turning on my heel, I walk to the kitchen door, removing the door jamb quickly as I pass, causing the swinging door to close behind me.
I hear them speaking to each other, but it’s muffled enough that I can’t make out what it is.
Probably for the best. I’ve heard enough this morning to dig up plenty of high school trauma to keep me awake tonight.
I risk a glance out the small window on the door when I hear the doorbell chime just in time to catch Camila chasing after Logan on the sidewalk.
Releasing a sigh, I lean my forehead against the door to cool my overheated face.
“Are you okay?”
I jump out of my skin as I turn to face the intruder behind me. My hands land on my heaving chest, which is trying to suck in all the air possible at once, it seems.
“Holy shit, Ophelia. You scared me.”
She chuckles. “I can see that.” Holding out the phone I now see was attached to her ear, she continues speaking into it. “Nothing, Kenny. Just your sister looking like she’s seen a ghost. But it was just her dear old grandmother.”
I roll my eyes, raising my voice for my sister to hear me. “Love ya, Kennedy.”
“She said she loves you, too,” my grandmother grins before making her way into the back office. Her stylish clogs set a comfortable rhythm down the hallway, and I allow the sound to help regulate my heartbeat again.
Luckily, I’m saved momentarily from my spiral as a few customers walk in and I make my way back to the front, pasting on an easy smile for the patrons.
Ophelia joins me with her signature apron embroidered with flowers.
My own is covered in moons and stars; a gift from my sister a couple of years ago.
After the morning rush settles down, I take a lap around the dining room to refill any drip coffees while catching up with the locals and answering questions for the tourists wanting the “in” on the best spots to explore.
When I return to the counter, Ophelia stops me with a hug.
Her arms enveloping me in a tight squeeze and I feel my muscles start to relax into her embrace.
“Want to tell me what had you so frazzled earlier?” She brushes my ponytail back from where it landed on my shoulder.
“Not really,” I pull back. My attempt to walk away is thwarted when she holds me in place in front of her, leaning down to catch my eyes.
It takes just a quirk of her brow for me to spill, if only a little bit.
“Just had a run-in with Logan and Camila.” I shrug as if it’s not a big deal, but Ophelia knows better.
“I heard that boy was back. How does that make you feel?”
I pick at my nails, suddenly fascinated with the color I recently painted them with, and trying hard not to focus on the swarm of butterflies assaulting my stomach right now.
Just the thought of his tousled brown locks and his shining hazel eyes paired with his panty-melting smirk had me ready to break out into a sweat.
“Why would I have any notable feelings about him?”
“You can’t fool me, honey. I remember you and your swoony eyes when he lived next door.”
I sigh, unable to argue when I know she’s right. “I didn’t tell you the whole story yesterday.”
Her face scrunches. “What do you mean? About the festival? Are you not leading the planning this year anymore?”
I shake my head. “It’s not that.” I nibble on my lower lip to find the words. “It’s not just a ‘me’ thing. We kind of got paired up for the festival. His mom volun-told him, forcing him to co-plan with me.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “This sounds like a romance novel Kennedy would write.”
“Don’t give her any ideas,” I say, but then see my change of subject and take it. “How is she? She hasn’t been very talkative lately. On a deadline?”
Ophelia exhales slowly. “Yes, and questioning her every life choice in the process. You know the usual.”
“I’ll try calling her later, see if I can work some little sister voodoo and light a fire under her.”
Ophelia squeezes my upper arm a couple of times. “I bet she would love that.”
We busy ourselves with a customer walking up and become lost in the usual hustle and bustle, but my mind keeps going back to those moments with Logan before we were interrupted and how easy it was for him to send those butterflies through my stomach again.