a little too flirtatiously. “Isn’t he married?”
She nodded. “Fidelity isn’t his thing. I’ve mentioned that before.”
Lance’s expression wasn’t pleasant. “Seems odd for him to be here, at your mother’s wedding.”
“I thought the same thing, but my mother invited him and he came. They are a bit weird that way. Something else I’ve mentioned.”
Lance’s gaze met McKenzie’s and locked for a few long seconds before he glanced at his watch as if pressed for time. “Sorry to rush off, but I’ve got to head out to help with the Valentine’s Day dance tonight.”
“Oh. I forgot.” Had her disappointment that he wasn’t going to stay for a while shown? Of course it had.
He reached out, touched her cheek. “McKenzie, there’s so much I could say to you.”
“But?”
“But you already know everything I’d say.”
“Not everything.”
His brow rose and she shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to ask him about Shelby. That time had come and gone.
Apparently he agreed because he said, “It’s been fun.”
She nodded, hoping the tears she felt prickling her eyes didn’t burst free.
“Your car door was unlocked and I left something for you in the front seat of your car.”
Her gaze lifted to his. “What? Why would you do that?”
“Just a little something for Valentine’s Day.”
He’d gotten her a gift for Valentine’s Day? But they’d ended things the day before. She had not bought him the standard card. “I didn’t get you anything.”
“You didn’t need to. Our two months is finished, just as we are.” He glanced at his watch again. “Goodbye, McKenzie.” Then, right there in the reception hall in front of her mother, her father and her brand-new stepfather, Lance kissed her.
Not a quick peck but a real kiss. Not a dragged-out one but one jam-packed with emotion all the same. One that demanded the same emotion back from her.
McKenzie blinked up at him. He looked as if he was about to say something but instead shook his head and left.
“Who was that man, McKenzie?” her mother asked, immediately joining her as Lance exited the building.
“That’s what I want to know,” her father practically bellowed. “Why was he kissing you?”
“Why is he leaving?” Her mother asked the more pressing question.
“He’s just someone I work with,” she mumbled, not wanting to discuss Lance.
“She gets that from you,” her mother told her father. “The idea she’s supposed to kiss people she works with.”
“Violet,” her father began, crossing his arms and giving her a sour look.
But her mother seemed to shake off her thoughts and smiled. “Come, let me introduce you to your much younger, more virile and loyal replacement.”
“Sure took you long enough,” her father gibed.
“Some of us are more choosy than others.”
McKenzie watched her parents walk away together, bickering back and forth. It wasn’t even six in the evening and exhaustion hit her.
Much, much later, after she’d waved sparklers at her mother and Yves’s exit, McKenzie gathered up her belongings from the church classroom where the bridal party had gotten ready.
When she got into her car, her gaze immediately went to the passenger floorboard where she saw a vase full of red roses. On the passenger seat was a gift box. Chocolates?
She doubted it due to the odd box size. She ripped open the package, and gave a trembling smile at what was inside.
A new pair of running shoes.
“YOU’RE NOT RIGHT, you know.”
McKenzie didn’t argue with her best friend. Cecilia was correct and they both knew it. Then again, one didn’t argue with a person streaking hair color through one’s hair.
“I think you should talk to him.”
“Who said this was about him?” Okay, so maybe she was feeling more argumentative than she should be.
Cecilia’s gaze met McKenzie’s in the large salon mirror in front of her styling chair. “You’re still upset about your mother getting hitched? I thought you were over that.”
“I am over that.” How could she not be when her mother was happier than McKenzie recalled her ever being? When she’d morphed into an energetic, productive person who suddenly seemed to have her act together?
Yves had taken her to South America to a bird-watching resort for their honeymoon. Since they’d returned her mother seemed as happy as a lark, working at the health-food store with her new husband.
This from a woman who’d never really held a job.
“Then it has to be Lance.”
“Why does it have to be Lance?”
“The reason you’re lost in your thoughts and moping around like a lovesick puppy? Who else would it be?”
“I’m not,” she denied with way too much gusto.
“Sure you are.”
“I meant I’m not a lovesick puppy,” she countered, because at least that much was true.
Cecilia laughed. “Keep telling yourself that, girlfriend, and maybe you’ll convince one of us.”
McKenzie didn’t say anything, just sat in the chair while Cecilia dabbed more highlight color onto her hair, then wrapped the strand in aluminum foil.
“Have you tossed out the roses yet?”
What did it matter if she still had the roses Lance had given her on Valentine’s Day? They still had a little color to them.
“I’m not answering that.”
“It’s been a month. They’re dead. Let them go.”
“I thought I might try my hand at making potpourri.”
“Sure you did.” Cecilia had the audacity to laugh as she tucked another wet strand of hair into a tinfoil packet. “What about the shoes?”
