For Better or Worse (14 page)

Easy enough.
At least this bride had actually seemed to care about her wedding
, Heather thought sourly with one more surreptitious glance at Danica Robinson and her group.

“Honestly, you both know how much I love this business, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't more than a little excited for the office to be closed for Thanksgiving,” Alexis said, draining the last of her glass.

Thanksgiving.

Just like that, Heather's already bad mood took another dip. She loved Thanksgiving. Who didn't, really? All that glorious food and wine and excuse to have pie for breakfast the next day.

But she'd been so hoping that this was the year that would be her Thanksgiving. The one where she'd get to take her mom to the Macy's parade and then they'd come home to the delicious aroma of a cooking turkey, maybe make pumpkin pie together . . .

Instead she'd be all by herself.

And yes, it had been her choice not to go back to Michigan. Not only because she had a wedding the weekend after the holiday, but maybe because she was being a tiny bit stubborn.

Heather was always the one to travel for the holiday. Always the one to make the trek home and do Thanksgiving on her mother's terms. Which would be fine if her mom was an invalid, but Joan Fowler was active and perky and could get on a plane if she wanted to.

But she
didn't
want to. Heather loved her mother, but she was also tired of always being the one to do things her mother's way.

And as for Josh's insistence that she take his mother up on her offer—well, she was
fairly
certain that invitation was off the table. Not that she'd take him up on it if it still was, the beast.

For one tiny moment, Heather was jealous of the other Belles for having actual plans. Brooke and Seth were headed back to California to spend the holiday with Brooke's family. Alexis was . . . well, hell, nobody knew where Alexis was headed, since she refused to talk about it, but she'd announced that she was taking the rare weekend off, and everybody was too grateful for her overdue vacation to press for details.

Looked like it would be turkey and pity party for one this Thanksgiving holiday.

Heather forced a smile on her face as she said her good-byes before stepping into the brisk autumn night. It was a long walk home, but Heather needed the air. Needed to think and get herself out of her funk.

She swapped out her heels for the comfy foldable flats she kept in her oversized purse. But thirty minutes later when she got to her building, thinking had only made her thoughts muddier.

And as she trudged up the stairs, her already-­simmering bad mood took a turn for the worse.

Josh's door was open, and he was standing in the doorway, one arm braced against the doorjamb, no shirt, of course.

He was saying good-bye.

To a woman.

Heather couldn't see the woman's face, but if her slim profile and long shiny brown ponytail were any indication, she was likely quite cute. The way that Josh was looking at her told Heather that.

Great. Just what she wanted. A front-row seat to the exit routine of one of Josh's flings.

His eyes flicked up to hers as she stepped into view, and she could have sworn she saw him jolt slightly in surprise.

But his eyes were bored and casual as they flicked over her, taking in the short skirt. “Hey, 4C.”

“Hey,” she said grimly, digging her keys out of her bag.

The woman turned to see who Josh was talking to, and Heather saw that she was right. The woman was cute. Wide brown eyes, pink lipstick, perfectly done eye shadow.

Heather smiled reflexively in greeting. The woman didn't smile back.

Okay, then.

She had bigger things to worry about than whether or not her neighbor's one-night stands liked her.

Say, like the fact that she had a weird knot in her stomach at the thought of Josh and this woman together.

Not wanting to dwell too deeply on that, at least not in front of Josh and his lady friend, she shoved the key in the lock, about to utter a terse good night, when another familiar voice called her name.

“Heather. Hey!”

She glanced over to see Trevor, Josh's band's lead singer, standing beside Josh.

Heather smiled in greeting, this time for real. She liked Trevor. Like Josh, the guy had plenty of easy charm and confidence, but unlike Josh, the guy didn't seem to have a secret side of himself that he kept hidden from the world.

“How's it going?” she asked.

“Honestly,” he said, jerking a thumb at Josh, “this guy bailed on our practice to entertain Kitty here. So, feeling very third wheel.”

There it was again. The knot. Tighter this time.

“In fact,” Trevor said, easing by Josh with a friendly wink at Kitty, “I wouldn't mind an escape route.”

“You have one,” Josh said. “The stairs. Or the elevator. Your choice. Unless you want me to shove you out the window, because I'd be more than happy—”

“You want any company?” Trevor asked, interrupting Josh and directing the question at Heather.

Heather opened her mouth to say no. The entire reason she'd left the bar was to get away from people and stew on her own.

And yet, even as her brain was formulating some polite excuse about having an early morning, Heather realized that she didn't want to be alone after all.

The thought of sitting by herself in her apartment,
staring at the ceiling while picturing Josh and this girl . . .

“I'd love some company,” she said with a bright smile at Trevor.

Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Josh jolt again.

Trevor grinned at her, and Heather swung open her door, gesturing playfully for him to precede her.

Heather started to follow him, but at the last minute, she dragged her gaze back to Josh. It was a pull she couldn't deny—almost as though he silently
demanded
that she look at him.

He was looking right at her, his gaze unreadable, his mouth set in a firm line.

She swallowed, wishing desperately that she knew how to get rid of this bizarre tension between them. Wishing that they could have a redo of Monday's lunch, and she was torn between wanting to strike at him and soothe whatever demons he refused to talk about.

Heather opened her mouth to say something—anything—but he looked away from her, instead shifting his attention back to Kitty, rewarding her with one of his easy, charming smiles before leaning down and whispering something in her ear.

Heather's breath caught, and she felt a stab of pain.

So she clung to anger instead.

Heather stepped into her apartment with Trevor, giving Josh one last look before slowly, deliberately closing the door on him.

Chapter Fifteen

Y
OU
'
RE COMPLETELY ENORMOUS.
Y
OU
know that, right?”

Josh's sister glared at him over her cup of ­orange juice. “No, brother dearest. I have a bowling ball chilling on top of my bladder and ankles that feel like water balloons, but I had no idea that I'm ­enormous. Thanks for the public service announcement.”

Josh sighed and looked at his brother-in-law. “Has she been this way for all nine months?”

Kevin scratched his cheek. “I'm going to get pizza. Who wants pizza?”

Jamie's hand shot in the air. “I want
all
the pizza.”

Josh reached over and patted his twin's protruding belly. “You are eating for two, after all.”

His sister snorted. “Please. The kid can get by on the umbilical cord. The pizza's mine, all mine.”

“Speaking as someone who shared your umbilical cord, I'm pretty sure that's not how it worked.”

“Don't get me started on that. I know you were
in there figuring out how to give yourself the fit gene while I got the chubby gene.”

“I forgot how good you were at science,” Josh mused.

Jamie started to lean forward to swat him but leaned back with a tired sigh. “Forget it. Once the kid's out, I
will
be kicking the shit out of you, but for right now I'm too grateful that you made the trek down here. I'm getting sick of Kevin.”

“And that's my cue to go get pizza,” Kevin said, standing and placing a kiss on his wife's head. “Canadian bacon and pineapple, same as last time?”

Jamie made a gagging motion. “What are you trying to do, kill me? Who eats fruit on a pizza?”

“You did, just last week,” Kevin said, searching around on the messy desk until he came up with the car keys.

“Well, the baby's cravings have shifted. Now she wants sausage and mushroom.”

“I thought you said the baby didn't get any pizza,” Josh said.

“Don't do it, man,” Kevin muttered. “Just don't do it. Be back in a bit. Don't kill each other.”

Josh lifted a hand to wave good-bye to his brother-in-law before frowning. “Do they not have delivery here?”

“Easy there, New York, this is Nashville, not rural Wyoming. Of course we have delivery. He just needs any excuse to get away from me these days.”

“I can't imagine why,” he teased, standing up from the kitchen table and going to refill her orange juice glass.

“I know, I'm a monster,” she said, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her belly. “I'm just grumpy I can't be with the family for Thanksgiving. Stupid third-trimester flight limitations.”

“You know we could have come to you,” he said, placing the orange juice in front of her and sitting back down.

“I know, but Dad has to work on Monday, and Mom's got that charity thing she does on Friday. And honestly, it's probably better. I'm so dang pissy these days, because I feel fat and cranky and my back hurts.”

He leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “You'll get through it. Just a couple more weeks, right?”

Jamie sat up a little straighter. “Oh my God. Josh. I'm sorry, you must think I'm the worst, complaining about a little back pain and swollen feet. I didn't think. I'm sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don't do that. My experiences don't make yours any less valid.”

The miserable expression on her face didn't fade, and Josh squeezed her hand. “Jamie. I thought we were over this.”

“The guilt?” she muttered. “No, not really.”

Josh dipped his head forward and tried to think of the right thing to say. Nobody was closer to him than Jamie—they'd been best friends and worst enemies growing up, as siblings often were, and by the time they got into adulthood, only the friendship was left behind.

But then he'd gotten sick, and in ways that only a twin could understand, Jamie had blamed herself when she hadn't been able to fix him.

“You want another pep talk?” he teased. “The one where I tell you all the reasons it wasn't your fault, and talk
realllllly
slow like Dad when he's disappointed?”

Jamie smiled, but it was tight and forced, and his gut tightened when he saw her eyes were watering. “I'm just really glad you're okay,” she whispered.

“You and me both,” he said. “But it's your turn to let people fuss over you. Why do you think I came down here to visit?”

“Actually, I'm glad you brought that up,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “I'm glad to see you. So glad. But don't think for one minute that I missed the fact that you have your escape face on.”

Josh blinked. “Am I going to need a drink for this?”

Jamie waved behind her. “Beer in the fridge, booze above the fridge.”

“Shit, so that's a yes, then,” Josh muttered, going to their liquor cabinet and rummaging around until he came up with some Maker's Mark bourbon. He poured him himself a healthy serving, added a splash of water, and joined his sister once more at the table.

“I know you're not going to shut up until you say your piece, so have at it.”

“You're running from something, and I want to know what.”

“I'm not,” he replied, taking a sip of the strong, bracing drink.

“Please. You know that time you wanted to dump Kelly Nicholson because you liked Valerie what's her name better, but couldn't figure out how to tell
Kelly? Escape face. Or that time you took Dad's Cal Ripken–signed baseball to school for show-and-tell and lost it, or the time you broke Grandma's jewelry box—”

“Jamie. The point.”

“Right, anyway . . . whenever you're avoiding someone or something, you get this look on your face.”

“A look.”

She nodded. “Yep, like your mouth is kind of tight at the corner and your nose is all flat and your eyes are shifty.”

He could only stare at her. “Is it cool if I record this so later when you're not pregnant, I can play it back and laugh at you?”

“
Oh
, did I mention?” she asked, pointing at him. “You also try to change the subject.”

“Yeah well, I can't imagine why. Having my past faults described in great detail is definitely my idea of a good time.”

“Fair enough,” she said, nodding her head graciously. “Let's not talk about your past mistakes. Let's talk about your
current
ones. I'm sensing a female is involved?”

Josh pretended to look around the kitchen. “Don't you need your crystal ball for this?”

“Josh!” she said, finally snapping. “Would you talk to me. Please.”

He sighed and took another sip of his drink, hating that she was right, the way that she usually was.

He was avoiding something.

And it was a female.

Josh sighed. “Okay. There's this girl.”

Jamie smirked but managed to withhold the
I knew it.

“She moved in next door a few weeks ago, and we've been . . . hanging out.”

“You know, I'm thirty-three just like you. You don't have to apply a euphemism for sex.”

“Actually it's not really like that,” he muttered.

“
Really
,” she said, her interest seeming to increase tenfold as she sat forward, hand resting on her stomach. “This just got interesting.”

“Not interesting so much as frustrating. The attraction is mutual. We both know it. But she's all wrapped up in her job, and then she's got this thing with Trevor, and she asks all these annoying questions all the time . . .”

Jamie put a hand to her mouth, but not before he saw the smile.

“Don't,” he muttered.

“I'm sorry,” she said, reaching out a hand toward him. “It's just that you're so cute when you're falling for a girl who's not falling back.”

“I'm not falling for her,” he muttered. “We're just friends, and I wouldn't mind adding benefits to the arrangement.”

“And how does she feel about that?”

“Good question. One minute she's kissing me like she wants to have her way with me, the next she's dragging me around the botanical gardens and talking about peonies, and the minute after that she's making sexy eyes at Trevor.”

Jamie's eyes were wide with fascination. “So. Many. Questions. I don't even know where to start.”

“Here's another one for you,” he muttered. “Mom invited her to Thanksgiving.”

Jamie barked out a laugh and slapped her hand on the table. “Oh my God, it keeps getting better. Oh, what I wouldn't give to be there.”

“Yeah well, you might not be missing much. Pretty sure she's not coming.”

Jamie's smile dropped. “Josh. Tell me you didn't uninvite her.”

“No. Of course I didn't. It's just . . . we had a thing, and she's not exactly pleased with me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What'd you do?”

“How do you know it was me that did something?”

She pointed downward. “Ovaries.”

Josh winced. “Gross. Don't. Anyway, I didn't do anything, precisely, I just sort of . . . snapped at her to stay out of my business.”

Jamie's smile was all the way gone now. “Josh . . . does this girl—”

“Heather.”

“Does Heather know you were sick?”

He took a sip of his drink. Then another. “Nope.”

She gave a little sigh. “Josh.”

“It's not relevant,” he snapped. “That's my past.”

“Sure, but it's shaped your present. And your future. And if you want this woman to be a part of either . . .”

Jamie broke off, and Josh rubbed his forehead. What did he want from Heather? He couldn't think
about her as part of his future. He didn't let himself think about anyone in terms of his future. He wasn't sure he had one.

But the thought of her not being a part of his life had him all sorts of irritable.

Josh sighed and glared at his sister. “Any chance we can skip the bit where you laugh at me and call me names, and just go straight to the advice?”

“Absolutely,” she said, surprising him by reaching across the table and patting his hand. “Okay, so here's the thing. Did Heather say yes to Thanksgiving?”

He shrugged. “I think she feels awkward.”

“But she has nowhere else to go? Otherwise she wouldn't even be considering it.”

Josh felt tense at the thought of Heather being alone. “Her mom's out of state. I feel like there's a story there, but I don't know what it is.”

“So I've never met the woman, so this is a guess,” Jamie said, pursing her lips, “but is it possible she's feeling as vulnerable as you?”

“Hey, who said anything about vulnerable?”

“Right, right, because you're a big man,” his sister soothed. “But my point is, maybe this girl needs something different from your sexy smile and your crooning and your biceps.”

His eyes narrowed. “I'm not buying her flowers.”

Jamie smiled. “I think it might be even simpler than flowers. Cheaper, too. This woman's on the verge of spending the holidays alone. Is it possible that what she wants more than anything from you . . . is just a little bit of kindness? To not be alone?”

Josh blew out a breath and sat back, irritated by
how easily his sister had cut straight to the heart of the issue, when he'd been gnawing on it for days. “So what do I do?”

“Be her friend. Trust me when I say that for some women, there's no better seduction technique. And, Josh?”

He rolled his eyes. “What?”

Jamie squeezed his hand and waited until he met her gaze. “I think maybe you need a friend, too. A real friend. One that knows everything.”