Barefoot in Lace (Barefoot Bay Brides Book 2) (11 page)

“Awesome. He is grumpy, but good.”

Ari tapped the table. “What’s on the menu?”

“A marmalade omelet with a side of slightly tinged iceberg.”

She made a disgusted face. “I want a burrito and beer.”

Gussie dropped her head back and moaned with joy. “Yes! I’m so down for South of the Border. Let’s grab Willow and beat the dinner crowd.”

“Willow?” Ari gave her a
get real
look.

“What?” Gussie asked. “They have taco salads. I know she didn’t lose a hundred pounds eating burritos, but after fighting Rhonda and Bud, I’m sure she’ll want to vent.”

“She probably is venting right now…to Nick.” The slightly sad note in Ari’s voice was unmistakable, along with the look in her expressive dark eyes. “But I think they’re secretly wedding planning.”

Gussie’s eyes widened. “I thought she…we…” She shook her head. “So much for the pact to be the wedding planners who never have weddings.”

Ari shrugged. “She agreed to that before she reconciled with her parents, and now, well, I don’t see any reason she shouldn’t have a wedding if that’s what she wants.”

“I know. It was a lame pact made on two bottles of chardonnay.”

“Three. And we’re not exactly slammed next month, because it’s too damn hot to have an outdoor wedding in August. If this were February, it would be different.”

“So she’s going to get married that soon, huh?” Gussie slipped into the chair next to her. “Well, from a scheduling standpoint, I might be a little busy.”

Ari lifted a brow in interest. “With the photographer who’s moved to town?”

“I don’t know if he’s actually ‘moved’ here as much as he’s hanging out until he figures out what to do with his niece, who is the reason I may be busy.” She explained Tom’s situation with the job in France.

“And you offered to keep her?” Ari asked when Gussie finished.

“Only if she can’t be convinced to go with him, which I still think any person in their right mind would do. You don’t have to be so shocked. It’s only for a few weeks, and it seemed like the right thing. Plus, I like her.”

“What if he never comes back? What if he sticks you with her?” Ari shook her head. “I mean, can you really just take someone else’s kid?”

“It’s babysitting, Ari, not kidnapping.”

“Oh, Gus, I don’t know. That’s a big commitment.”

She shrugged. “I can handle it. I’d love it, in fact. You know I love strays.”

As though on cue, Scooter, a fat black cat Gussie had found shortly after they moved to Mimosa Key, wandered into the kitchen, whining for love and food. Instantly, Gussie was up, looking for a can, which meant Gensie and KayCee wouldn’t be far behind. Sure enough, the tabby and the Persian came sauntering in, looking for Mom and food.

Ari watched Gussie open the cans, silent. But her knowing eyes said it all.

“What?” Gussie finally demanded. “I know that look. You’re about to make some pronouncement about how the universe has directed Alex to me.”

“No, but I could say something about how the universe is trying to tell you that you have a maternal instinct a mile wide and this part-time solution appeals.”

“Not a maternal instinct as much as a familial one. Does that make sense?”

Ari shrugged. “Considering what happened to you and your family, of course it does.”

Gussie sighed, relieved that Ari understood her so well. “I do miss what I had as a kid and would love to re-create that. But not with someone else’s family.” A slow pounding started at the base of her neck, as it did whenever she thought about her brother and her family. She rubbed the spot as if she could massage the memories away.

“You okay?” Ari asked.

“Fine. Just hungry. Why don’t you grab your bag, and I’ll go put a lid on? If we don’t get over there soon, we’ll have to wait an hour for a table.”

But Ari didn’t move, still looking at Gussie with her All-Knowing Face.

“What?” Gussie asked.

“You don’t have to ‘put a lid on,’ Gus. Pull your hair back and most of the scar is covered. It’s a thousand degrees in Florida in July, even at night.”

So much for someone who understood her. How many times in one day did she have to have this conversation? “The wigs are
me
, Ari. They are my style, and I feel absolutely naked without them,” she said.

“And you know if you met someone and fell in love, you’d have to get naked. Completely naked. No-wig naked. All the time, every night.”

Gussie rolled her eyes. “Yes, I
know
. I was halfway there this afternoon.”

“You were?” Ari shot up. “If you’re holding out on me because of those Flipsticks…”

“The only person I’m holding out on is Thomas Jefferson DeMille.”

“And how’s he handling that?”

“Mmm.” Gussie thought about that. “He’s accepted it for now, but I don’t think the ‘we just met’ excuse will last long. He is one determined man.”

“So what’s stopping you?”

“Besides the fact that I hardly know him?” Gussie asked. “I mean, I met him yesterday, and he’ll be gone tomorrow.”

“He better not be. He’s doing our wedding this weekend.”

“Well, not exactly gone tomorrow, but soon. But I don’t want to get all worked up over a guy who doesn’t even own a home, let alone plans to settle down and live a normal life.” She could feel Ari’s gaze on her and avoided it by picking up a dishtowel and refolding it.

“Maybe you’ll be the one to change him.”

“Said every woman who’s ever met him. And then failed.”

“Well, if he’s that much of a player, you wouldn’t be attracted to him. Maybe there’s more than meets the eye, even if what meets the eye is pretty nice.”

“That’s what I keep thinking,” Gussie admitted. “There’s something very caring about him. He raised his sister and seems concerned about his niece. It’s like he’s a supernice guy wrapped in this cloak of ‘I vant to be alone’ that doesn’t even ring true.” She sighed and straightened the already straight dishtowel. “Did you get any of that when you met him today?”

“I didn’t get past the hair and the biceps.”

“I know, right?” From the other counter, her phone dinged with an incoming text. “But you would if you spent time with him because you have such a great sense of intuition with people.” She picked up her phone and looked at the screen. “Oh, speak of the devil.” Damn it, why did a text from him give her a thrill?

“Really?”

She clicked on the message and read. “He wants to know if I can meet him and Alex for dinner tonight.” She looked at Ari. “He wants me to talk her into going to France with him, and if that fails, I guess I can suggest she stay with me.”

“Oh, okay. You go, and I’ll scrounge for leftovers upstairs.”

“No, come with me.”

Ari held up a hand to say no, but Gussie grabbed it and squeezed. “You have to come,” she said as the rightness of the idea took hold. “You’re such a good judge of character, Ari. And it’s not a date since Alex will be there. It’ll be fun. I’ll text him back and tell him we’ll meet them at South of the Border in half an hour.”

She expected an instant yes, but Ari narrowed her eyes and held her hand out. “It’ll cost you.”

“Damn it.” She yanked open the pantry door and dug into the open box of Flipsticks. “Here.” She slapped about six into Ari’s palm, getting a jaw-dropped look of shock in return.

“I would have settled for something less fabulous. A Twizzler or Good & Plenty. The ’Sticks are for sex.” She put the Flipsticks back into Gussie’s hand. “If Tom can wait, so can I.”

Ari sounded pretty confident she wouldn’t have to wait long. Well, she
was
a damn good judge of character.

Chapter Nine

It had been remarkably easy to persuade Alex to go out to dinner. Tom had to say only four words:
Gussie will be there
. He didn’t mention that Gussie was bringing a friend. He didn’t want anything to change her mind, since he was certain that once he got them together again, Gussie could convince Alex that she should go to France. And if she didn’t, surely Alex wouldn’t mind Gussie’s generous backup plan.

He still wasn’t sure of that idea, on many levels. It felt like shirking his responsibilities, yet he believed the offer was genuine. Would Ruthie have approved? He had to ask himself that question every time he made a choice for Alex now. Although sometimes he wondered how much Ruthie had really cared since she’d so cavalierly left her daughter’s future in his hands.

But of course she’d cared. She’d merely thought she was invincible. Nobody was invincible. Nobody. Not strong, healthy women who seemed born to be mothers. Not…anyone.

Pushing the thought away out of habit, he repositioned himself on the bench where he and Alex sat outside under the bright red umbrellas of a Mexican restaurant the locals called the SOB.

The worst of the day’s heat had faded with sunset, but it was still warm under a lavender evening sky, still sticky and heavy. Or maybe that was the silence between him and the young girl who sat in front of him, splitting her gaze between the table, the street beyond, and the menu.

Anywhere but him.

He dug around for something to say, even though it would only get a monosyllabic answer.

“So, did you remember to water those plants?” he asked.

“I forgot.”

He bit back a sigh. “What did you do all day while I was gone?”

She shrugged, which he interpreted to mean “played video games.” Then she closed her mouth over her straw and sucked down soda.

Everything in him wanted to ask if she’d given any more thought to France, but he resisted the urge, leaving that in Gussie’s capable hands.

“Did you do more ‘work’ on…whatever it is you’re working on?” he asked.

She looked up without taking her mouth off the straw, her eyes suddenly so much like Ruthie’s it almost took his breath away. His sister hadn’t been quiet. In fact, she’d usually had a smartass answer for everything. But funny smartass, not miserable smartass.

Alex hadn’t inherited that trait, which would at least have been more tolerable than this silence.

“What is it you’re working on, anyway?” he probed. “Writing something?”

“It’s private.”

In other words, shut the hell up. He shifted his gaze to the street, scanning the palm-tree-lined avenue for the woman he’d spent most of the day thinking about when he hadn’t been trying to kiss her. “I wonder what color wig she’ll wear,” he mused.

That perked Alex up a bit. “How many does she have?”

“From what I can tell, a lot.”

“Does she always wear them?”

“I think so.”

“Why?”

He weighed the truth against the relief of actually engaging Alex in a conversation.

“She has a burn scar on the back of her head, and her hair doesn’t grow there.”

“Really?” She sat up and abandoned the soda. “How big is it? Have you seen it? How’d she get it?”

“Yes, I’ve seen it. It’s not that big, and she’ll tell you the story if she wants to.” Maybe. Maybe it was private, and he’d just broken a confidence. He had no idea.

So maybe Gussie had been right when she’d said they needed to know each other better before sex. The idea made him a little uncomfortable, but then, everything about Gussie made him a little uncomfortable. And she also made him extremely comfortable, which was puzzling.

“Can I ask her tonight?” Alex asked.

“If it seems right.” Over Alex’s shoulder, he spotted two women walking and laughing, and it took him a few seconds to realize it was Gussie and her friend Ari. Was that her natural hair?

An unexpected zing shot through him at the sight of her long, golden-brown hair falling around her shoulders. He loved her hair like that, but then the two times he’d seen it, they’d been alone, close and, this afternoon, kissing. Maybe
that’s
what he loved—Gussie with her guard down.

But then she turned to her friend, both of them laughing, and he saw that the hair covered her whole head, so it must be another wig.

“There she is.” He gestured in the direction of the two women crossing the street.

Alex whipped around, nearly knocking the bench over to get a look. “Who’s that other lady?”

“Her friend and business partner.”

Her shoulders fell as she turned back. “This is a
business
thing? I thought it was like, you know, dinner.”

“It
is
dinner, Alex.” He caught Gussie’s eye as she approached their table, getting another unexpected zing when she smiled.

“But are we going to talk about taking pictures for that wedding?”

“I don’t know what we’re going to talk about.” He stood, placing his napkin on the table, as the two women reached them.

“Hi, Gussie.” Alex didn’t stand, but looked up. Gussie instantly reached down and gave her a hug, something he suddenly realized he hadn’t done since the day he’d arrived. Only because she never seemed like she
wanted
to hug.

“This is my friend Arielle Chandler,” Gussie said, putting her other arm around her friend. “Ari, this is Alex and, of course, you met Tom today.”

When they sat back down, Tom lightly took Gussie’s hand to get her next to him and across from Alex, but she easily slid onto the bench next to his niece, leaving the space next to him for Ari.

He didn’t like it, but let it go. After all, she was here to help him solve the France situation, no matter how much he wanted her close to him.

“So I heard we owe you dinner for all your hard labor,” Ari said easily as she sat. “I’m usually the one stuck finding volunteers to help with the gazebo-gathering, so thank you.”

“Not a problem,” he said. “We had…” He glanced at Gussie.

“Fun,” she supplied brightly, turning to Alex. “What did you do today?”

“I played some Mario and read a book and reorganized my closet.”

Why couldn’t she have told Tom that when he asked?

“Books, clothes, and video games!” Gussie exclaimed. “You might have had my dream day.”

“What about you?” Ari turned to grab his attention.

“Uh, no books, video games, or closets for me today.”

Ari laughed. “But did you have a good time at the warehouse?”