The Comeback Kiss (13 page)

“
Five tomatoes for a dollar,”
he muttered
to himself. He was about to turn back toward the shack when the clouds parted, allowing some moonlight to spill out, and he saw her. She was on the other edge of the lake, near the road. He had to rub his eyes and take a few steps closer to the lake to b
e
sure it was really her.

It was, and the moment he saw her, he realized he should have expected her. Whenever Tessa was upset, she headed for the lake, swimming in the summers and skating in the winters. When she skated, it was always the same routine, ove
r and over, until she felt better.
Forward, turn, backward, hop, twirl, forward, turn, backward...

She was mesmerizing. The moonlight played off her dark curls, and it looked as though the tiniest stars Finn had ever seen were dancing around her like... li
ke...

Like nothing he
’
d seen before. He took a few more steps toward the ice. The dog whimpered a bit and scratched at the door. Finn ignored it, his eyes following Tessa as she glided over the ice, and for the first time ever, he fully felt the weight of
his regret, ten years in the making and tied to the very spot where he stood, which
—
give or take a few feet
—
was where he was standing when he first realized he loved her, while watching her dance on the ice.

Forward, turn, backward, hop, twirl, forward, tu
rn, backward...

She was beautiful. Graceful.

And she should have had more.

He
’
d been so stupid. He
’
d left her, given her up because he thought she could do better. Better than him, better than Lucy
’
s Lake. All he
’
d managed to do was double her loss. Boyfri
end and mother gone on the same night. Tessa was supposed to go to college, get out of this town. She was supposed to backpack around Europe, write novels in San Francisco, paint in a Manhattan studio. Something cool. Something interesting. Something more
than waiting tables in Max
’
s Diner and making up stories about a guy she should have forgotten the moment he left the town limits.

The dog whimpered and scratched at the door again. Finn glanced behind him at the shack, and when he turned to look at Tessa
again, the clouds had once again obscured the moon, and she was barely visible. With some effort, he turned his back on Tessa and trudged quietly to the shack.

Chapter Seven

“
Can I get you some more coffee?”
Tessa asked, holding up the carafe and blinki
ng her eyes. Skating on the lake the night before had turned out to be a bad idea after all. Although it had worked to calm her for the moment, she
’
d spent the night tossing and turning, dreaming about tomatoes. Weird.

“
No thanks, Tessa,”
Joe said, folding
his newspaper in front of him. “
You look like you could use some, though.”

Tessa gave a weak smile. She
’
d already had three cups, and it was only ten o
’
clock. She peeled Joe
’
s bill off her pad, scribbled “
Fire Dept.”
on it
—
Max never charged law enforcemen
t or firefighters
—
and headed for the front, her eyes bleary and her shoulders tight with whatever was bothering her. She couldn
’
t quite put her finger on it. With any luck, Finn was already gone, on his way back to where-ever he
’
d come from. So that shoul
d
n
’
t be bothering her. And Izzy had promised to be on her best behavior, which meant no more crack pipe/biker boyfriend/unsavory tattoo jokes when Mary Ellen Neeley, the social worker assigned to their case, dropped in on one of her home visits.

And just la
st night while skating, Tessa had decided it was time to stop telling stories about Finn. She
’
d covered everything up well enough; it was time to let it all go and move on.

So all was well. All was fine. Life was good.

The front door opened, and a woman Te
ssa didn
’
t recognize walked in, pushing all other thoughts out of Tessa
’
s head. It wasn
’
t that they never had new people there
—
occasionally, someone
’
s uncle or cousin would visit from Wichita or Duluth. But this stranger looked as though she
’
d just steppe
d
out of a Manhattan penthouse, and that was definitely unusual for Lucy
’
s Lake.

The woman looked to be somewhere in her fifties, pretty with fair skin and large blue eyes accented with light smile lines, which seemed only to make her prettier. Crisp, short
blonde hair poked out from under an eccentric Annie Hall-style hat. As her ivory cashmere coat fell open, Tessa saw that the Annie Hall thing was a theme.

The woman smiled brightly and beelined for Max, who instinctively straightened and took a half step
back upon seeing her.

“
Oh, my,”
she said, her face beaming as she held out her hand. “
You must be Max. I
’
m so pleased to meet you.”

Tessa looked from Max to the woman, then back to Max, who seemed a bit surprised himself, although with him it was sometimes
hard to tell. He was rarely an easy read.

“
Yeah,”
he said warily, reaching for the woman
’
s hand and shaking it. “
Can I help you?”

The woman released his hand and smiled even brighter. “
I
’
m Babs Wiley McGregor. You can call me Babs.”

Max shifted a sideways
look to Tessa. Tessa shrugged.

The woman was acting as though they should know who she was, but the name wasn
’
t ringing any bells for Tessa.

“
Oh, Finn hasn
’
t told you about me, has he?”
You-Can-Call-Me-Babs said.

Tessa
’
s mind raced. Who was this woman? Di
d Finn have a girlfriend? An
older
girlfriend? No, it couldn
’
t be. She wasn
’
t his type. Although, in ten years, his type could have changed.

But no
—

Babs settled on one of the counter stools. “
I
’
m his... well, employer. Of sorts. I guess. It
’
s slightly ove
rcomplicated, but none of that really matters. Is he here? I need to speak to him.”

Employer. Of sorts. She guesses.

Tessa went from confused to panicked in 1.5 seconds flat.

“
No, actually,”
she said, hurrying around the counter to stand next to Babs. “
Um.
He
’
s not here. He left. He
’
s gone.”
Tessa put her hand on Babs
’
s arm and pushed lightly. “
Nice to meet you, though. Bye.”

“
He left? Already?”
Babs frowned, getting up from the stool but not moving any closer to the door. “
That
’
s disappointing.”

“
He left?”

Tessa spun around to find Joe standing right behind her, putting a few bucks on the counter and nudging them toward Max, who shook his head and nudged them back. “
He
’
s gone?”

“
Um,”
Tessa said, looking from Joe to Max and back again. “
Yeah. I think. Maybe.
He said he was going to leave.”

Joe huffed in irritation. “
I told him not to leave town.”

Tessa put her hand over her erratically pumping heart. “
What the hell did you do that for?”

Joe sighed. “
He might be a suspect in the fire at Vickie
’
s.”

“
There was
a fire?”
Babs asked.

“
Why?”
Tessa said, her eyes on Joe. “
He didn
’
t start that fire.”

Joe
’
s face tightened a bit, but before he could say anything in response, Max picked up Joe
’
s hand, slapped the bills into it, and closed Joe
’
s fist around them.

“
And I d
on
’
t want to hear another goddamn word about it,”
he said, then turned and slammed into the kitchen, leaving the door swinging furiously behind him. Tessa and Joe exchanged a look, and then she turned to Babs.

“
Um,”
she said, “
sorry about that. He can be a
little grumpy sometimes. But his heart is good.”

Babs raised one eyebrow at the swinging door. “
That
’
s not all that
’
s good.”
Babs used a napkin to fan herself, then turned a grin on Joe. “
And you must be Finn
’
s brother.”

Surprise registered on Joe
’
s face.
“
He told you about me?”

“
Little bit,”
Babs said, “
but I could tell because you
’
ve got the same mischievous sparkle in your eyes that Finn has.”

“
I do?”
Joe asked.

“
He does?”
Tessa said, throwing a glance back at Joe.

“
You said Finn works for you?”
Joe sa
id. “
I thought he worked alone.”

Babs scoffed. “
Hardly. I get the clients, he just does the jobs. So, he really left, huh?”

“
Um,”
Tessa said. “
Are you hungry? We have a killer lemon Danish ...”

“
You said you drove here?”
Joe said, settling on a stool next
to Babs. “
All the way here from Las Vegas? By yourself?”

Tessa
’
s stomach flipped in panic.
Crappity crap crap shit.

“
You know, she
’
s had a long drive; I
’
m sure she doesn
’
t want to be pelted with questions,
Joe,”
Tessa said, shooting him a warning look, the
n turning a smile on Babs. “
How about some coffee? Nothing beats Max
’
s coffee. Cream? Sugar? Black?”

“
Las Vegas?”
Babs said, looking at Joe.

Tessa launched herself at Babs, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her toward the door.

“
You know,”
she rattled as
she led Babs away, “
I think I might know where Finn is why don
’
t you let me bring you to him Joe tell Max I had to run out okay I
’
ll be right back!”

She let the door shut behind them and took a breath of the chill air outside, hoping it would slow her pani
cked heart. When she regained her focus, Babs was smiling at her with glowing warmth.

“
And you must be Tessa,”
she said, patting Tessa
’
s hand. Tessa stopped moving and stared at Babs.

“
Yes,”
Tessa said. “
I am. How did you know?”

Babs smiled. “
You
’
re even p
rettier than I imagined. Although I knew you
’
d be pretty.”

Tessa stared at her. “
What...? You mean...?”
She paused, fought not to say what she was thinking, and lost. “
Finn said I was pretty?”

Babs laughed. “
No, he didn
’
t say a word about your looks. That
’
s how I knew you were really something special.”
She moved down the cement steps into the parking lot. “
There
’
s something you should know about men: The less they say, the more there is to say.”