She missed her dad so much. She missed his rumbling voice, his miss-buttoned shirts, and the way his beard appeared crooked because he always stroked it when in thinking mode.
Willow’s hand tightened around the glass. She knew Rome didn’t squirrel her away to Woodcliff in secret. She knew full well she was bait to lure Valen to this little town and attempt a kidnapping or, more likely, into killing Willow. And while she didn’t look forward to either option, she did look forward to an end to her isolation. Once Valen and her people were caught and behind bars, Willow could return to her father and her life back in New York.
A life that wouldn’t include dance. Or Ben Anderson.
Willow rubbed a hand on her chest, wondering why that thought not only loomed dark and dreary in her mind, but seemed to cause her heart to ache as well. She barely knew the man. She couldn’t deny she was highly attracted, and the kiss they’d shared earlier in the day had just about fried her brain circuits, but their relationship was a far cry from anything serious. Ben could just be playing with her, knowing full well Willow would leave once the situation resolved.
Maybe he’d remember her as a fond interlude.
A sudden burst of feminine laughter from the living room yanked Willow to the here and now. With a shake of her head, she cleared everything negative from her thoughts. Her time with these women had been more enjoyable than she’d dreamed and she didn’t want anything messing it up. So, tea in hand, she made her way into the living room to see Tess sitting like a queen holding court on a plush cushioned chair, a cheap tiara on her head and a sash across her chest. At her feet lay dozens of wrapped presents and glittering gift bags.
Willow eyed the decorated room, once again thinking Tess’s wedding colors of chocolate brown and emerald green an odd choice, but to each his own. The sheer number of women overflowed the sofa, loveseat, and mass collection of chairs. Kaylie waved from the floor by the stone fireplace, the hearty fire snapping as Jackie added a chunk of wood and replaced the screen. Thankful, Willow crossed the room and settled on the carpet by Kaylie’s side, Jackie lowering to sit on Kaylie’s right.
It bemused her how quickly Kaylie included Willow into her circle. Warmed, welcomed, and stuffed to her ears, Willow watched as Tess opened her multitude of presents. She oohed and aahed with the best of them and was sincerely moved to tears at the expression on Tess’s face when she opened Ruth’s gift; a fine boned china set that originally belonged to Ruth’s grandmother. Then she laughed at Kaylie’s gift. A Nerf rifle, complete with an extra set of soft suction “bullets” for those times when, as Kaylie put it, “you have the overwhelming urge to shoot your husband. Repeatedly.”
As Tess opened her last gift, a phone rang. The women looked at each other, some digging in their purses. Kaylie shoulder bumped into Willow’s. “I think it’s you.”
Willow blinked. “Oh,” she said, and fumbled in the pocket of her hoodie. She’d forgotten all about it. Pulling the device out, she saw Ben’s name on the screen and her heart leaped. She scrambled to her feet. “Sorry. Excuse me.” She slid her thumb across the screen just as Kaylie showed her on the way over, saying a husky hello as she hastened into the kitchen.
“Hey.” Ben’s voice was clear and strong over the line. “Having fun at the shower?”
“I am, actually,” Willow responded.
“You sound surprised.”
“Well.” She crossed one booted foot over the other and leaned back against the counter, her tone low so as not to be overheard. “I’m pretty much a stranger to these people.”
Ben’s soft laugh made her toes curl in pleasure. “There are no strangers to Kaylie, just people who have yet to become friends. DocCha’s a bit more reserved, but once she makes up her mind, you’re in for life.”
“DocCha?”
“Sorry. Jackie’s nickname. Short for Doctor Chavez.”
If Jackie wasn’t already happily married, Willow might have to shoot her. Secure in that knowledge, the feeling of jealous dissipated almost as quickly as it came on. “You’ve known them your whole life?”
“Kaylie and Tess, yes. Jackie only moved here some four years ago.”
Eyes trained on the archway leading to the foyer and living room, Willow sighed. “And fit in right away?”
“Pretty much. That’s the magic of small-town living. Don’t get me wrong, we’re certainly not a Stepford-type community, but for the most part we’re a tolerant and caring bunch. It’s hard not to be.”
“Why do you say that?” Willow was genuinely curious.