Adam could do in return.
“Hey, Madman,” said Fred Spangler, waving from a group of plotting groomsmen. “Get over here, fella. We’ve gotta strategize over how to trash the groom’s getaway car.”
Adam looked at Julia. “Sorry. Duty calls.”
“But what about—”
He stepped around her when she didn’t move. “Nice talking to you.”
She reached out for a brief, firm hug, sending a jolt through him. Usually she kept her distance. “It’s wonderful to see you again,” she murmured. “You look…”
Good. Really good! Adam gritted his teeth in anticipation.
Julia swung her head, making her smooth golden-brown hair sweep across the small satin bows that lay flat against her shoulders. “You look thoroughly civilized.”
Civilized?
“Hey—what does that mean?” Adam said, but Fred Spangler grabbed his arm and pulled him away, leaving Julia looking after him with a taunting little smile playing across her lips.
THE WOODWIND TRIO played a slow, spitty-sounding Irish melody to wind down the evening as Julia made her way across the restaurant to her table. A slice of wedding cake waited at her place, thickly frosted with green and white globs that were supposed to be lily of the valley even though this was an autumn wedding. Julia had advised Cathy that detailed artistry was beyond Velda Thompson, Quimby’s one and only unrenowned cake decorator, but you couldn’t talk sense to a woman about to tie the knot. Brides had their own cockeyed logic. A mystery to Julia, who liked order, stability, cause and effect. Under normal circumstances, she couldn’t imagine thinking like a bride.
But these circumstances weren’t normal.
Her tablemates were off chatting, boozing or schmoozing, so Julia allowed herself a loud sigh, then propped her elbows on the table. Disconsolate, she considered the cake a long while before stabbing it with a fork. There was no need to sleep with a slice of wedding cake under her pillow. She didn’t want marriage just now—she wanted change. Excitement.
Adam Brody.
The sooner the better.
Ever since Cathy had confided that Adam had agreed to return to Quimby and act as Zack’s best man, Julia had been filled with an unusual restless energy. This was her last chance to follow the road not taken. She was certain.
Either she put the vitality back into her life or she settled for more of the same. Either she made Adam see her in a new light or she gave him up for good. A woman could live modestly and pine after a man for only so long before she became pathetic.
For these many years, she’d been careful to keep her feelings for Adam Brody secret. But some of her friends must suspect by now. Cathy knew, for certain, which meant Zack probably did. Being Zack, as honorable as he was handsome, he’d been completely discreet about the potential complications. Julia had no doubt that he’d offer his blessing, if it ever came to that.
Ever?
Or never?
Julia shivered. She could face never if she had to. There were worse things.
Like skydiving.
Oh, good grief, what was she thinking? Adam was right. She wasn’t the type. Just as she wasn’t his type.
Redheaded Allie Spangler came over and plopped into a chair. She eyed the wedding cake, pierced by an upright fork. “Aren’t you going to eat that?” she asked hungrily. Her gaze darted around the elegant restaurant, searching for Fred. She and her husband had been on a diet for several months now, but she was always sneaking snacks behind his back.
Julia nudged the plate toward her longtime friend. “Feel free.”
“Adam’s looking really good.” Allie moaned as she scooped a dollop of sugary frosting on her fingertip. “I halfway expected a wasted shell of a man, but…” She glanced at the gaggle of groomsmen, smacking her lips. “He hardly even limps.”
“Yes.” Julia didn’t need to follow Allie’s stare. An image of Adam was burned on her mind. His tousled brown hair, the lean, athletic body in a rumpled tux, tie undone, collar open. His face. His sober face. Always intense, but now hardened by an intimate knowledge of struggle and pain. And so…guarded. It hurt her to look at him, knowing what he’d been through. Except when the boyish daredevil grin emerged, even briefly, reminding her of the mischievous kid he’d been, the cocky athlete he’d become. Under the austere exterior, he was still the restless young man she’d fallen for more than ten years ago—fallen for as fast and hard as a sky diver with a malfunctioning parachute.
“Aw. Don’t look so mournful.”
Julia shot a curious look at Allie, who smiled through a mouthful of cake.
“Just because Heartbreak is off the market for good…” The redhead spoke soothingly.
“Oh. Yes, of course. Heartbreak.” Julia smiled, mimicking the brave faces of the single women in attendance. Zack “Heartbreak” Brody had been the most eligible bachelor in Quimby. Some of his ex-girlfriends had formed an informal support group, calling themselves the Heartbroken, sisters in misery. Along with Allie, Julia had been a founding member, even though her feelings for Zack were not nearly as significant as the others suspected.
Not for Zack.
“I’m fine with that,” she said, ever so brightly.
Allie patted her hand. “Sure you are.”
“Zack and Cathy are perfect together. I’m thrilled for them.”
“Yeah, yeah. We all are.” Allie’s smile wound tighter and tighter until her homely freckled face was all squinched up, twisting her expression into a grimace. She released it, casting a guilty glance at Fred. “Anyhoo. A bunch of us are getting together after to commiserate—er, to celebrate. Har, har.”
Julia murmured something noncommittal. She wasn’t in the mood to listen to Allie and Gwen and the Thompson twins and other assorted singletons moan and groan about their great unrequited love for Zack. When it came to the Brody men, she knew too well how they felt. And it didn’t pay to linger on it.
Action, she reminded herself. She’d promised that this time she would go into action instead of sitting and waiting for Adam to come to her. No more doing the right thing. No more boring, well-behaved good girl.
“It’s a warm night for October. We were talking about a bonfire on the beach, just like old times. Some of the guys are coming, too.” Allie chuckled. “With liquor, I betcha. They’re thinking if they get a few of you bridesmaids comfortably numb, the pickings will be easy.”
Julia started to shake her head, then stopped. “Will—um, who’s going?”
“Me and Fred. Gwen, Karen and Kelly. I don’t know about Faith—she’s been even quieter than usual lately. Probably grieving over Zack. All of the groomsmen will be there, and maybe one or two of the guys from Fred and Zack’s basketball league.”
“Adam?” Julia blurted.
Allie
