"Aw, now, Billy, I think you got it wrong." Mikey winked at the lady. "Think this sweet young thing wants her picture taken with me."
And just like that, Mikey had her all charmed too. Then folks gathered round for pictures and autographs, and instead of returning to Vera, Will settled into the easy rhythm of being Billy.
Wasn't how he'd planned his dinner to go, but being Billy beat being Will Truitt tonight.
IN HIGH SCHOOL, Lindsey thought her gift was cool. She liked knowing what other people didn't, being right about who would break up and who would make it to the end of the school year. In college, she'd learned to hate it. Because in college, her friends had serious intentions of dating for the long haul, and until Lindsey learned-the hard way-to keep her mouth shut, her gift had lost her more friends than it gained.
As an adult, she liked to pretend it didn't exist, but it was always there, in the back of her mind, in a subtle pressure in her sinuses, a twitch in a random finger or an ache in her knees or elbows, telling her the relationship weather around her as surely as an old farmer could predict rain coming in three days.
She'd learned to keep her mouth shut, but she'd learned something else too.
Most people had at least one not-bad match. Sometimes two. But Lindsey?
Lindsey had never looked at a man and felt anything other than bad match vibes for herself.
Will wasn't the only man she'd ever been attracted to, but he was the only one she let herself fall for. With the rest, she'd kept her heart out of it, called it quits early, didn't get vested. She dated to scratch an occasional itch, and she was always brutally honest about what she could and couldn't offer her dates.
She didn't kid herself. She'd never have children of her own. She'd go home to an empty house every night of her life. She chose to be satisfied that she had Nat and Noah and Dad. When her time came, she'd look back on her life and know that she'd helped flawed people with good intentions correct their marital mistakes. That a good number of them had gotten the same second chance Nat had. That they'd gotten it right the second time, or that they were at least happier and healthier alone than they'd been while in an unfortunate marriage.
Most days, that was enough.
But tonight, with Will-with Billy-walking into Suckers, into her hometown, into her world, nothing felt right. Her internal match-o-meter had gone haywire. Early morning thunderstorms morphing into ice storms, with sunshine and rainbows bouncing around in there too.
He wasn't supposed to be here. He shouldn't have been here.
And the questions and suppositions she had about why he was here weren't things she could afford to contemplate.
If she were one to run away, she'd be ducking out through the kitchen now instead of standing in the Suckers bathroom, sucking in the chilly air and trying to steady her pulse and her breathing.
He was just one more ex-boyfriend, she told herself. If he chose to be here, she could choose to maintain a distant, platonic relationship with him, as she did with every other man she'd ever dated. Why he was here was nothing for her to stress over. She could go out there and be her normal self-guarded, claustrophobic, and unapologetic-and ignore the fact that she and Billy freaking Brenton had a history.
Liar, the throbbing in her chest said.
A chunk of rocky casing had fallen off Lindsey's petrified heart, and that little organ was coming back to life with painful thumps.
He was just another man. He shouldn't have affected her.
The bathroom door swung open, and Kimmie darted in. "My mom's gonna frost her cookies when she hears this." She gripped Lindsey's arm. "I will pay you a million gazillion s'mores cupcakes if you start a rumor that I'm a bad match for Billy."
Lindsey's match-o-meter had declared Billy a cool summer breeze with Pepper, a warm spring day with Kimmie, and a bright sunrise over the beach with Mikey. Lindsey didn't have any not-bad matches, but that was all Will had.
Lindsey's gift could go toss itself off a cliff.
"I'm sure someone like Billy Brenton has people who can handle your mother," Lindsey said.
Kimmie dropped her forehead against the gray stone wall. The purple lighting in the bathroom put a blue hue on her curly dishwater blonde hair. "My last fortune cookie said my love life would one day soon be fodder for public judgment."
Normal. Kimmie talking fortune cookies was normal. Lindsey loved normal. "Are you getting your cookies at Wok'n'Roll? Mine always say Fortune smile on he who smile at life."
"But you're not a freak. The cookies know. They pick me."
Lindsey was a freak in her own right. She leaned a hip against the stainless steel sink. She hated crowds, but hanging with Kimmie had a strangely calming effect, and Lindsey's pulse was almost steady again. "You're out in public now, and we're discussing your love life. Fortune cookie solved."
"Good. Thanks. I mean, he's hot and all, but I am so not the celebrity girlfriend type. We'd go to an awards show and someone would ask me what I was wearing and I'd say giraffe bubble skin or something else out of one of my dreams."
Lindsey found a smile for her friend. "Tell your mother that if she gets any ideas."
Kimmie suddenly squeaked. "Oh, pumplegunker. Do you think Mikey's rich too? My mother's not above suggesting second best if he has the cash. We were a bad match too, right? He's cute enough, but in a scary way. Like a motorcycle gang, dominant billionaire romance, groupie-loving way. Not like Billy is, like that trusty gentleman country boy way."
"Trust me, no one in this bar is a good match for Mikey," Lindsey said.
She couldn't honestly say the same about Billy.
"Nat's right, you know," Kimmie said. "Mom will have a welcome reception planned within the next two hours. And she'll have my wedding china and silver and crystal picked out by Thursday. If she doesn't already."
"Your mom won't marry you off to Billy Brenton," Lindsey said. "She can't afford to. You'd go move to wherever it is he lives and she'd lose you at the bakery."
"Unless she makes him move here. She could do that, you know. I think she bakes voodoo cakes, I really do. Maybe I shouldn't put Mikey's face on a cupcake."
"Speaking of cupcakes, how did the fruitcake cupcakes go over?"
Kimmie launched into a story about fruitcake cupcake samples, and the two of them returned to the bar. If they hadn't, Nat would've come looking, and Lindsey didn't feel like offering explanations.
When they emerged, Billy and Mikey had spread out and were signing autographs and taking selfies with the other patrons. CJ had circled the bar and was chatting with Jeremy, his co-owner here at Suckers, while both of them kept an eye on the celebrities. Nat and Pepper were chatting, probably about Knot Fest stuff or the bridal boutique. Pepper had moved to Bliss and bought into the shop as co-owner last summer, and she ran the floor operations while Nat was branching out into designing an original line of wedding gowns.
Lindsey couldn't have been prouder of Nat for all she'd accomplished. She'd floundered for a while before finding where she truly fit in Bliss.
"You leaving?" Nat asked.
"Have to get my evil overlord sleep so I can eat some babies tomorrow," Lindsey said.
Nat snorted. "Right." She reached out and gave Lindsey a hug. "You free Saturday? I'm almost ready for your next fitting."
"Sure. So long as I can borrow Noah afterward." The downside of Nat's launching her own line of bridal gowns was that she'd talked Lindsey into being one of her models for the first photo shoot for her marketing materials. Kimmie was getting a dress too, along with Pepper and some of Nat's other new sisters-in-law.
"Dad claimed Noah already, but I'm sure he'll share." Nat angled her head toward Billy. "Crazy isn't it?" she whispered.
"How long do you think we can keep my mom from finding out?" Kimmie whispered back.
"Not long enough." Nat grinned, a spark of the devil flashing in her dark brown eyes. "Although, I can't deny wanting to see what Marilyn thinks of Mikey."
Lindsey shot a glance at Mikey. He wasn't as classically handsome as Will was-too tall, too lanky, too bald under his Billy Brenton ball cap-but he oozed womanizer charm, and he was working it tonight. He had a lady on each arm and was wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at a third. Lindsey's match-o-meter pegged a tornado, a hurricane, and a sandstorm. None of them were good matches.
No surprise there.
Without her history with Will-with Billy-Lindsey would've found Mikey ideal for an itch-scratcher. But he was here with Will, and she didn't have any itches that needed scratching right now.
None that sex would solve.
And she got the distinct impression Mikey didn't much care for her anyway.
The door opened behind them, and Dahlia Mallard strolled in. She ran The Milked Duck, Bliss's charming ice cream shop around the corner from Nat's bridal boutique. She marched past Mikey without a second glance.
Lindsey smelled roses.