Love in the Details (2 page)

“Yes.”

Josh and Ben had met in the ninth grade, become best friends, and remained close. Ben's dad had never been a part of his life, and Ben's mom had always been overstressed and cash-strapped. Holly couldn't imagine her handling any mother-of-the-groom responsibilities for Ben's wedding. None.

So Josh had relocated to Texas from now until Ben's Thanksgiving weekend wedding so that he could give his
friend the kind of support that counted. Ben had told Holly that Josh had taken over the planning and the funding for both the rehearsal dinner and the bachelor party weekend. Based on the Josh she'd known, his show of generosity and loyalty did not surprise her. “It's nice of you to make the effort to be here for Ben.”

No affirmative reply.

“I'm Trinity Church's volunteer wedding coordinator. Since Amanda and Ben have decided to get married at Trinity, I'll be working with Amanda's professional wedding coordinator behind the scenes, representing the church . . . Anyway, I'll be helping out on Ben and Amanda's big day.”

His tiger eyes continued to assess her with such absorbed concentration that her mouth went dry. Wrongly, her heart seemed to be gaining speed instead of steadying.

She bit the inside of her lip to keep herself from babbling about the wedding or—at all costs—from blurting out that she was sorry. These many years later, that's what she most wanted to say to him. It was a sentiment that had often filled the letters she'd written him and never sent, how horribly sorry she was for ruining what they'd had, when what they'd had, she'd realized more and more clearly over time, had been rare and beyond price. “How have you been, Josh? I've heard you've done very well.”

“I've been okay,” he said carefully.

“I'm glad.”

“How about you?” He asked it seriously, like he actually cared about the answer.

“Great.” She gave him a bright smile. He was super
smart. He could probably see through it. It was a smile overly, falsely bright. “I write young adult novels.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“I. . . .” How did he know about her novels? “I . . . really love writing. When I'm not on a deadline, or banging my head against my keyboard, or out of ideas. Which is most of the time.”

In answer, his lips indented upward on one side. Josh had a face perhaps a bit too angular and a nose perhaps a quarter of an inch too long to be considered classically handsome. His was an arresting face, grave and interesting, appealing to Holly in ways hard to define. His straight dark brown hair had fallen across his forehead when they'd been dating. Now it looked as though he warmed an expensive men's hair product in his palms, parted his hair on the side, then combed it back with his fingers to keep it in place.

Holly held onto her cup tray like a kickboard in a choppy sea. She really hoped her mascara hadn't smudged or that the sip of coffee she'd taken before she'd seen him hadn't left whipped cream on her lip.

“How's your family?” he asked.

“They're all fine. None of them live in Martinsburg anymore. My dad sold his construction business so now he and my mom only stay in their house here a few months of the year. The rest of the time they're at the lake house or their apartment in Austin cuddling Mark's baby—did you know that my brother got married and had a little boy?”

“I did know.”

Was Ben filling Josh in about her the way that Ben filled her in about him? “And Jessica's in law school.”

He nodded.

“So I'm the only one left in town.” She gave a little shrug as if to say,
I'm still living in Martinsburg, despite that my parents, older brother, and younger sister have all moved on. But I really don't mind because I like it here and I'm very content and secure. Very!
“How's your mom?” Josh's father had died when Josh was twelve.

Warmth slightly softened the austerity of his expression. “She lives in Colorado now, near her sister.”

“Is she retired?”

“She can retire whenever she wants.” Which Holly translated to mean that Josh had set her up in such luxurious style that she'd never have another financial care in her life.

“But she doesn't like to sit still,” he continued. “She's working at a charity that helps unemployed women find work.”

“That's good to hear.” Before Josh's mom had moved, Holly had run into her around town from time to time. Each meeting had filled her with complicated emotions of affection and pain. She didn't blame his mom for asking her to break up with Josh all those years ago. How could you blame a person for advising you to do the right thing, the thing that had become the springboard for all the success Josh had achieved afterward? On the other hand, Josh's mom couldn't have known how very much Holly had loved Josh or how much losing him had devastated her. So, deep in her heart, she couldn't bring herself to hold his mom completely blameless, either. She inhaled, seeking calm, rooting around for another topic of conversation—

“Well.” He flicked a few fingers in the direction he'd been walking. “I'd better be going.”

“Sure.” She didn't allow her disappointment to show as she edged closer to the wall to let him pass. “I'll see you around.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

He moved off.

Somewhat dazed, she watched him go.

His steps paused.

She jerked her face toward her tray and made a show of straightening the cups.

“Holly?”

“Hm?” She pretended to be surprised to discover that he hadn't left.

“I'm planning Ben's rehearsal dinner and I need to find a venue. I'm not familiar with Martinsburg anymore. Would you be willing to help me look for a place?”

He was asking
her
for assistance? “Sure.”

He produced his phone. “May I have your number?”

She gave it to him.

“Thanks. I'll contact you.” He nodded curtly, then strode down the street.

She was going to search for rehearsal dinner venues with Josh?
Because of the wedding and the smallness of Martinsburg, she'd known that she'd cross paths with Josh during his time here. But she'd envisioned their interactions as short and formal. She hadn't expected to spend real time with him. Or share real conversations.

She made her way along the sidewalk in the opposite
direction, passing an art gallery, a wine shop, and a women's clothing store before coming to the home furnishings store she lived above. A narrow alley between buildings took her to an exterior staircase. From there, a hallway led to her building's three second-story units. She left Rob's coffee outside his doorway. He worked late every night as a sous chef and typically woke around this time. She knocked quietly on Mrs. Chapel's door. Her elderly neighbor opened the door the width of the inner chain she always kept latched.

“Here you are, Mrs. Chapel.” Holly squeezed a cup through.

“Thank you, dear. Did you remember to put in one and a half packets of sugar?”

“I did.”

“The cup feels cold.”

“Sorry about that. I ran into an old friend on the street. Just zap it in the microwave for thirty seconds.”

Mrs. Chapel patted the cup accusingly with arthritic hands. “If you're going out again later, I could use a new pack of Depends.”

Holly laughed. “Now Mrs. Chapel, you know I'm just your friendly next door neighbor and coffee delivery girl.”

“Fine.” The old lady winked sagely at Holly. “I'll guilt one of my daughters into picking up the Depends for me.”

“Good plan.” Holly dashed around the corner to her door before Mrs. Chapel could ask her to buy Ensure or Vitamin K.

She'd scored the best apartment of the bunch. It overlooked Main and boasted lots of windows and spacious everything: living room, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom.
The moment she set aside her tray, she dug her phone from her purse and texted her girlfriend, Sam Sullivan.
Lunch today, 12, Taqueria
.

Josh continued along Main Street until he was sure he'd left Holly far behind him, then ducked blindly into a store. One sweeping view of the place told him that the shop sold Texas nuts.

The middle-aged woman behind the counter caught his eye. “Welcome. May I help you?”

“I'll take whatever's most popular.” He hadn't come in for pecans. He just needed a few minutes of privacy.

“Certainly. Our hickory smoked trail mix is our most popular item.”

“Fine.”

She held up an empty sack. “Two-pound bag all right?”

“Yes.”

Josh took up a position near the front window, his back toward the shop, his shoulder set heavily against the side wall.

There was a reason he'd avoided returning to Martinsburg.

And his reason had the most infuriatingly beautiful gray-blue eyes.

He'd spent his college summers taking courses and working close to the MIT campus. For the most part, his mom had come to visit him in Massachusetts. The few times he'd stayed in Martinsburg for Christmas, he'd gone to great lengths to make sure he never saw Holly.

Seven months ago, Ben and Amanda had gotten engaged
and announced that they'd be marrying in their hometown of Martinsburg, Texas, population 10,000. Shortly afterward, Josh had made plans to return to Martinsburg for the four weeks prior to Ben's wedding. So long as he had his technology with him, he could work away from his home base in Paris for up to a month.

He'd told himself it would be fine. He'd told himself that the thing with Holly had happened in another lifetime. He'd had seven months to get his head straight, to prepare himself.

Seven months hadn't been long enough.

Eight years hadn't been long enough, either.

“Here you are!” The store employee displayed the trail mix like a fine wine. “Our best seller.”

“Thanks.”

“Would you like to come to the counter for a nut tasting?”

“No. I . . . just need a minute to myself.” He gave her a level stare.

“Ah. Okay. I'll have this at the register for you when you're ready.”

He scowled back out the front windows.

Holly Morgan. The Holly who'd once been his.

Josh had never done anything halfway. It wasn't in his makeup. He hadn't done academics halfway in high school or college. He hadn't done his business halfway. He'd always worked like a machine and still did. In fact, part of what had initially fueled him in his career had been his desire to prove to Holly that he was worth something, that she'd made a mistake when she'd cut him loose.

No, he didn't do anything halfway.

Unfortunately for him, he hadn't fallen in love with Holly halfway, either. Theirs had not been a lighthearted romance. They'd kept it pure, but it had also been intense.

Holly had been smart and kind, creative and genuine. She hadn't had the sort of in-your-face, commercial prettiness that had characterized the popular girls in their high school. But to him, she'd been more gorgeous than any woman he'd ever laid eyes on before or since.

When he'd known her, she'd worn her light brown hair straight down her back. Now it fell a few inches longer than her shoulders, layered slightly, wavy, with some shiny dark blonde strands in it. Her thoughtful, heart-shaped face held a sweetness that couldn't be faked. She had great cheekbones and little brackets that formed at the corners of her lips when she smiled.

He'd continued to gain height in college. She hadn't. She stood about six inches shorter than he did now, her build slender but not skinny.

When he'd caught sight of her on the sidewalk just now it had knocked the air from him. He turned his hands palms up and watched the tremor in them. Fisting his fingers, he buried his hands in his coat pockets.

He'd lost two people in his life that he'd never recovered from. His dad and Holly. There hadn't been a day that had gone by that he hadn't thought about them both.

The last time he'd seen Holly, they'd hugged each other in an airport terminal like they never wanted to let go. The departure time for his flight had drawn closer and closer. His mom, who'd already gone through security and
was waiting for him at the gate, had started calling his cell phone. He'd held onto Holly for as long as he could. When their time had run out and they'd kissed for the final time, his heart had felt like it was breaking clean in two.

He'd looked back at her from the security checkpoint line. At first, she'd given him wobbly smiles and brave waves. The final time he'd looked back, tears had been running down her face.

He'd worked hard to earn his scholarship to MIT, but once he'd arrived there, he'd wanted, desperately, to give it up and return to Holly. Without her, school seemed pointless, his loneliness endless. He'd been certain he'd be able to make a success of himself regardless of which institution issued his degree. He'd wanted to make a success of himself with Holly. But before he could follow through on his desire to leave MIT, she'd broken up with him.