Champagne and Lemon Drops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary Romance (27 page)

Beth whispered over the lump in her throat,
"Thank you." She gave her friend a long, hard hug. This is what
Blueberry Springs was about. Right here. Why didn't Nash see it and
want to be a part of it? She blinked back tears, feeling torn
between the man she loved and the family she'd been a part of her
whole life.

Katie pushed her away and pulled out her
cell phone. "Okay," she swiped at her damp eyes. "Now. About the
hall. There is no way in hell it's booked. I'm going to get you a
wedding date come hell or high water."

***

"Thank you, Oz," Beth said, cutting the
truck's engine in the driveway. "We really appreciated it."

"Glad to be of service." He tipped an
imaginary hat, his eyes clear and bright. "Have to help out my
lovely ladies."

She slipped out of his truck, gently closing
the door behind her. She ignored the fact that he'd included her as
one of his ladies and that since his name was still decaled on the
driver's side door, right above the handle, that her name could
very well still be on the passenger side. Through all their
errands, she'd carefully avoided being on that side of the truck.
Although why would it still be there? And why did she feel a trace
of dark disappointment at the idea of her name being peeled
off?

"You two managed okay? You were gone
awhile." He stepped from side to side in the cold, the snow
crunching under his size ten feet. Soft flakes drifted out of the
low winter sky and landed in his hair.

"She bit off more than she could chew, but
we got it done." She looked away, uncomfortable standing this close
and without distraction.

"Thanks for helping her out." Oz looked up,
his eyes quiet. "I'm sorry about the fight."

Beth paused, uncertain which fight he was
referring to. She muttered quickly, "It wasn't your fault."

"It was."

Beth handed Oz the truck keys, hoping he'd
step back so she could edge around him and make her escape. Her
evening was going well and she didn't want to blow it by staying
around Oz for too long. Katie had already proved her worth as a
maid of honor by wrangling the hall manager into booking the
hall—little did he know he was so busted for lying—and she was
floating on a heavenly cloud of goodwill, hope, and anticipation.
This was the beginning of everything turning around with their
wedding planning and Nash falling in love with Blueberry Springs
for what it really was. Family. Family that fought. Family that
looked out for each other. Family that was well-meaning even when
it interfered. Plain and simple, family she loved when the chips
were down.

She'd never be alone in Blueberry Springs,
and Oz got that. He knew what this town was.

"Well, I need to get..."
she paused, unable to choke out the word
home
. She glanced up at the trailer
cozied into the snowdrifts behind Oz. It was up for sale and there
had been no interest. She went to brush past Oz.

He let her by, her jacket brushing his
hoodie. "How's the Volvo running?"

"Fine," she replied over her shoulder.

"I see you've lost the plug off your block
heater." He followed her to the car and crouched down in front of
the bumper. He lifted the frayed end of the electrical cord. "You
need to get that fixed. We're due for a cold snap."

Beth paused by the driver's side door. "I
know." She hesitated, then came over to look at it. "I bought one
of those replacement ends you always got, but I—"

"I'll grab my screwdriver. Do you have it
with you?"

Beth shook her head.

"Hmm. Well, I'm sure I have an extra in the
toolbox. You can't be driving around like that in the middle of
winter. You'll get stranded somewhere."

Beth opened her mouth to protest.

"It'll only take me a minute." He backed
toward the trailer. "Promise."

Beth nodded and sighed. Fine. He could fix
her car. He'd done it a million times. Or at least as many times as
she'd driven off with her car still plugged in. She'd asked Nash if
he could figure out how to do it, but he'd backed away as soon as
she mentioned electricity. Seriously. You either got it right and
things worked, or you blew yourself up. What was the big deal?

She chuckled out loud. Oz had always
promised that nothing major would happen if she got it wrong, but
she still couldn't summon the courage to fix it herself. She always
imagined big explosions and electrocution if she crossed some
wires.

Oz leapt down the front steps, holding up a
part. "Knew I had one!"

Beth tucked her hands inside her coat
sleeves and tried not to move so the cold air couldn't creep
in.

Oz set to work unscrewing the new plug so it
opened in half. He took her car's exposed block heater wires and
slipped them into place, clamping them down to keep them secure in
the new plug.

"You make it look so easy," she said, trying
not to let her teeth chatter. She tugged up the hood of her coat
and warmth finally closed in.

Oz explained what he was doing and how to
tell the wires apart. "Next time you can do it yourself."

"That's what I keep telling myself."

He chuckled. "Maybe you should start
unplugging your car before you drive away?" He looked up at her, a
twinkle in his eye. She smiled back at the familiarity. This was
such a déjà vu moment. Her watching him fixing her car. Her
promising to do better next time. Him teasing her. Only this time
he wouldn't ruffle her hair, sling an arm around her shoulder and
lead her back to the house with a kiss so they could enjoy a cup of
hot chocolate and talk about their day.

She let out a mournful sounding sigh and,
embarrassed, cleared her throat and looked down the street instead
of at Oz.

"There you go. Good as new." Oz gave the new
plug an experimental tug to ensure it was on firmly. "Do you have
your winter emergency kit?"

"In my trunk, thanks." She shuffled in the
area of packed down snow she'd created while watching Oz. Now what?
She didn't feel as though she could just bolt back to the condo,
but she didn't have anything to say and she most certainly wasn't
heading inside.

Oz reached behind him and pulled an envelope
out of his back pocket. He passed it to her. She fingered the thin
package, immediately wishing she'd given up sooner in her quest for
a truck to help out Katie. She cleared her throat. "What's
this?"

Oz stepped back and ran a hand through his
hair, making it spike in the front, snow falling onto his
shoulders, joining saw dust. Saw dust? Well, she'd heard rumors he
was making a racket in the back shed fixing up loose chair legs for
his mom. She sighed, hoping all his helping out other people wasn't
keeping him from finding himself.

"I got an offer on Dad's business. I took
it. That's your share of our mutual fund we were saving for our...
that we were saving. And the equity." He tipped his head toward
their old place.

He looked bashful and ashamed, and she
fought the urge to slide into his arms to make it better. To make
it them against the world. Consciously, she stepped back. She'd
cultivate something like that with Nash. Right now she needed to
stay away from Oz. Possibly forever.

"I'm sorry I kept you in money problems for
so long. But I suppose that won't be an issue once you marry—" he
broke off and cleared his throat.

"Right," she whispered. She caught his eye.
"You sold the business though? Really?"

"Yeah. I talked to my dad and while I don't
think he understood my decision, I'm free to start a new
career."

"That's... well, that's unexpected. It's
good. I'm happy for you." She closed her eyes briefly. He was
moving on now. Now that she was taken. Not while she had been
waiting, but now. She sighed and tried not to wallow under a severe
sense of loss.

"How's your job going? I've heard your
outreach is doing really well. You already help so many people.
It's great. What you're doing."

She gave a small smile. "Thanks." She
fingered the envelope and glanced at Oz. He was staring at her,
hands in the pockets of his jeans. "What are you going to do?"

Wait. Oz was wearing jeans. Not sweats.

She took a closer peek, trying not to be
obvious. They were his old 501s with the tiny hole near the knee
from one of his Fluffy rescues. Not only that, they seemed to be
buttoned all the way up. He hadn't been in jeans in forever. And,
dear Lord, they still looked incredibly sexy hugging his
thighs.

"Tonight?" he asked, stamping his feet.

"I'm sorry. You're cold. I should go." She
turned her body towards her car, her eyes still on Oz's lower
half.

"I'm fine," he said quickly.

Beth snapped her eyes from his jeans,
collecting herself. "What are you doing with your money? Your
life?"

What was she doing? What
was she thinking? She couldn't—
shouldn't
be looking him over like
this. And what did she care what he did with his life? What
business was it of hers?

"My life?" he asked. He scratched the back
of his head and gazed toward the horizon. "I'm not sure, but I feel
ready to make some changes. I have ideas. But I'm still
deciding."

Of course. A lightheaded sensation swept
through her as anger rode in on murky waves. What was it with him
that made her keep thinking she was a part of his life? Why did she
keep thinking he would tell her about his secrets, dreams, and
plans? That he would let her in to see who this mysterious, secret
Oz really was?

"Great." She reached to open her car door.
She remembered the envelope in her hand and gave it a wave. "Oh,
um? You want to arrange to get my name off the mortgage then?"

Oz stumbled back like he'd been shoved. "Oh.
Right," he said quickly, looking panicked.

"What?"

"Nothing." He looked down at the snow,
swallowing hard. "I'll get the papers." He met her eye. "Is this
the end?"

Her lips trembled. She bit down on them and
slid into her car. She whispered, "The end was a long time ago,
Oz."

Chapter 16

Beth stood still as Wanda placed the last
pin in her bridesmaid's dress. Wanda spun her around and said,
"There, how does that feel?"

"Pretty good." Beth twisted back and forth
to admire herself in the mirror. Not bad for a bridesmaid. There
was a reason Wanda's Wedding Store, even though being half way to
the middle of nowhere, drew people from hours away. "What do you
think, Cynthia?"

Cynthia, pale and nervous,
inspected the newly pinned seams and hem. She fluffed out the
lavender skirt. "That's
much
better, Wanda." She fiddled with the straps on
Beth's bra, tucking them under the dress as Beth smacked her hand
away. "You're not wearing that bra, are you? It's
awful."

"I'll grab more pins," Wanda said, giving
Beth's chest a frown. "Don't move."

Beth checked her chest in the mirror, on the
lookout for drooping, sagging, boob-escapism, and other bad breast
behaviors. Seeing none, she rolled her eyes. "You guys are so
fussy." Desperate to change the subject, she asked, "So? Are you
getting excited?"

Cynthia sucked in a sudden
breath, her face blanching even more. "There is SO much to do. I
have three weeks and
so
many details that still need to be taken care
of."

Beth shifted, watching how the long-sleeved
dress moved with her. "Don't worry about it. It'll all work
out."

Cynthia gave her a look. "Don't say anything
you don't want me saying to you in a month or two. I've had since
summer to plan my wedding. You have a mere three months until
yours."

Beth looked at their reflections in the
fitting area's wall-length mirror. Cynthia, slimmer than usual, was
fussing around in the store's robe, one of Wanda's girls adjusting
a dart on her dress while she waited. Katie was against the back
wall, sitting cross-legged in an armchair flipping through a bridal
magazine.

"Okay, one of you two seriously needs to get
an ice sculpture." She held up a page to show them.

Beth waved her over. "Bring it here. I can't
move until Wanda returns with more pins." She glanced at the
offered page. "I like the one with champagne in it."

Cynthia clucked her tongue. "You know how
much that would cost? And your champagne would get all flat and
watery as the sculpture melted. Think of the mess. Besides, nobody
actually likes champagne."

Katie considered the picture again. "Okay,
so that one's not so practical." She pointed to a sculpture of a
bride and groom. "What about this one?"

"I like it," Beth said. She pulled out her
phone and snapped a picture to send Nash.

"Did you really just do that?" Cynthia
asked.

"Do what? Ask my fiancé his opinion? Yes, I
did." Beth stood proudly. "He's an awesome planner." So far she'd
hardly had to worry about a thing.

"Taking over, is more like it," Katie
whispered to Cynthia behind her hand. "Which explains the lack of
panic. That man's a total detail freak. She's got it easy. Unlike
you." She patted Cynthia's shoulder and gave her a kind smile. "If
you need me to take care of anything, let me know, okay?"

Cynthia gave Katie a hug that bordered on
clingy and desperate.

"Um. Me too, of course. Again," Beth added.
God, if wedding planning was making her sister—who always had it
together—come undone, what hope did she have? She didn't even have
a dress. And yes, Nash was taking care of a majority of the
details, but there was still so much to do and they had way less
time than Cynthia'd had.

Katie pried Cynthia off of her and sent her
to try on the new adjustments before getting dressed so they could
continue shopping. "So?" she asked Beth. "Do you have your gown
yet?"