Nothing she couldn’t handle.
Katie pulled her gaze away from the window and pointed to a cabinet up high. June opened it effortlessly, her six-foot frame towering over Katie, who held out her hands to accept the china dessert plates she intended to use for the first time. “That’s just the thing, June bug—it’s history. In the past.” She glanced at the stack of plates as she set them on the counter next to the cobbler dish. “Just like Bradley.”
June squeezed Katie’s shoulder affectionately. “At least you’re finally going to use these babies.”
Katie grinned. The four-place china setting was supposed to be June’s housewarming present to Katie when she and Bradley bought the house they’d been admiring together, a gift June had worked extra hours to save for. When Katie told June she was returning the lot so June could have her money back after Bradley called off their plans and had the Realtor shred the house contract, June had insisted they keep and use it. The irony that its first guest would be Ryan Ford didn’t escape Katie.
“Can I just say one more thing, though, and then I’ll stop talking about him? I promise.”
Katie tossed a skeptical look at her housemate. “What do they say about making promises you can’t keep?”
June stuck out her tongue. “All right, fine. So maybe it won’t be the very last thing.”
“Uh-huh,” Katie said.
“It’s just that...well...he’s hot.” Mischief shone in June’s eyes as she glanced at Katie. “I noticed you left that part out when you texted to let me know you two were headed up the drive.”
Despite herself, Katie burst out laughing as she slid a third spoonful of cobbler onto one of the delicate black-and-white-patterned plates she’d picked out for her life with Bradley not so long ago. “I guess I just don’t think of him that way. He was my friend when we were kids. I mean, the guy used to throw water balloons at me and run up behind me to shove me into the pool when I least expected it.” She set the spoon aside and wiped her hands on a dishcloth. “Not exactly the stuff of fairy tales.”
June just blinked, clearly not convinced.
Katie shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, fine,” she said, arranging the plates on a tray with the refreshed pitcher of lemonade. “He does look good. I’ll admit that much.”
“What looks good?”
Katie started abruptly at the warm, low sound of Ryan’s voice coming from the kitchen archway, but caught herself in time to recover before she turned to face him. “Oh, we were just admiring June’s baking.” She pulled in a deep breath as she busied herself again with the tray. “It’s unparalleled in Texas.” She winked at June, who looked a little too pleased with herself. Catching the beginning of a grin on her friend’s lips, Katie shot June a warning look.
What? June mouthed silently, and Katie deployed the stern expression she saved for rare occasions when kids got too rambunctious at the museum.
“Yep, it’s true,” June said, holding Katie’s gaze, “this is one of my favorite recipes. I love how the peaches are so ripe and delicious. They’re just gorgeous.” She winked at Katie.
The nerve.
Evidently Katie’s laser-of-doom glare didn’t work on women over twenty-five.
Some of Ryan’s earlier discomfort at joining the two women for dinner seemed to have dissipated and, apparently oblivious to the ulterior meaning of the conversation going on about him, he rubbed his hands together and beamed. “Looks amazing, June,” he said, turning then to Katie. “Can I take that tray from you?”
Katie regained her composure and nodded. “Of course. Thanks.” She handed it over and let Ryan start out of the kitchen before she jabbed her elbow into June’s side as they followed him through the open sliding-glass door and out onto the lantern-lit patio. He placed the tray onto a turquoise-painted picnic table and sat down just as June’s cat, Harold, pounced onto the bench next to him, and Katie and June settled on the seat across.
“He likes you,” June offered with a smile. “He doesn’t feel that way about most people, especially those of the male variety.”
“What she means,” Katie said as she passed out each plate, “is that he’s kind of a jerk.”
June pretended to look offended, though she knew as well as anyone that her own cat—the cat she and Katie adored in equal measure—was the most irritable feline who ever lived. “He’s just...particular is all,” June said, taking a sip of lemonade.
Katie tucked a fork into her dessert and held it up to cool. “Well, he’s a terrible judge of character,” she argued. “The first night I moved in, he used my suitcase as a litter box, leaving me with nothing to wear to work the next day.”
June had a naughty look in her eyes. “He was just giving you a warm welcome,” she soothed, and Katie nearly choked on her own laughter.
Ryan chuckled, too, and the three of them ate in silence as a welcome October breeze swept over the deck, causing the flames to dance on the citronella candles scattered about. Katie was thankful June had remembered to light them to stave off the last of the summer mosquitoes, though she had to admit the candles, combined with a couple of solar-powered iron lanterns and a string of twinkling fairy lights, gave the deck a much more romantic appearance than Katie was comfortable with at the moment.
She caught Ryan watching as she savored her last bite. He gave her an open smile that spoke of campfires and sneaking out at night to the swimming pool when they were kids, of the delicious tingle that had arisen under Katie’s skin every time their limbs had brushed together.
How quickly life could change without notice, how easily the past could merge into the present...the future. Heat spread through her chest as the notion slipped into her mind, causing her to pull away from his gaze and stare down into her lap.
Ryan is the past, and only the past, she reminded herself in warning.
Letting him become anything else would only lead to sorrow again.
Katie set her shoulders back and lifted her chin. The look in his eyes as she caught them this time was both familiar and strange; it held a disconcerting mix of what they’d been and what she’d once wanted them to become. Part of her had enjoyed spending time with two of her favorite people as if not a day had passed since they were younger, but a wiser part was certain it wouldn’t last.
She didn’t regret inviting him to stay for dinner, and she’d been pleasantly surprised how easily his presence fit in with hers and June’s. And it was kind of Ryan to offer to drive her out to the camping ground in a few days, but she knew suddenly that she couldn’t ask him to stay the weekend, even though it would mean a canceled hayride and making plans for someone to drive her home. When he dropped her and the supplies off and headed back out of her life, she would feel relief.
Katie closed her eyes.
Another jolt of pain, too, but mostly relief.
The next morning, Ryan stepped into the diner, half expecting all eyes to turn his way, and he was more than a little relieved
