Risky Moves. Carrie Alexander
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 polished off the cake before she answered. “It was his idea. You know Adam.”
Never indoors when he could be out. Always the first to move, to dare, to go. Farther and farther away each time, harder and harder to catch up to.
He was a comet, burning through the sky. She was only Julia Knox, her feet stuck on the ground. If she reached for him, she might be badly burned. Did she dare try?
I have to. This is my last chance.
“I’ll be there,” she said. “After I go home and change.”
Allie scanned the pumpkin-colored dress. It was too frou-frou for Julia’s taste, but out of solidarity with her fellow Quimby shopkeepers, Cathy had insisted on patronizing the lone local bridal shop—where tasteful choices were woefully limited. The dresses at Bridal Bonanza got a lot worse than frou-frou.
“Always a bridesmaid, huh?” Allie said with a bit of an edge, because she hadn’t been asked to be one. Although outwardly happy in her marriage, her interference in Zack’s love life had once gone too far. Fortunately for her, Zack and Cathy were forgiving sorts.
Julia smiled too sweetly. “Maybe we can all move on now that Zack’s off the market for good.”
Allie shrugged, quickly changing subjects. “There’s always Adam, I guess. Even if he’s not much of a marriage prospect. No steady job, no house, no savings account…”
I already have those things, Julia thought. Turns out they’re not enough.
“…and now there are his weak legs and all. He’s sure not the kind of guy you can count on.”
Julia disagreed. She knew firsthand that though Adam wasn’t as perfect as his brother—he made mistakes, and she’d been one of them—he also had enough pride, courage and loyalty for ten men. In many ways, however, even though they were the same age and had grown up in the same small town and attended the same school, he was still an enigma to her. He was so disciplined, yet utterly reckless, seemingly fearless. She’d always found him fascinating, the kind of man who would challenge her to be more than expected.
And she needed such a challenge. She needed it now.
Julia forced herself to focus on the conversation instead of her secret desires. “You know Adam better than me,” she told Allie with a shrug, even though that wasn’t completely true. Allie, who’d lived next door to the Brody brothers, had been buddies—only buddies—with both of them. She and Adam had egged each other on in their pranks and misadventures, with Zack the guardian who was always there to get them out of trouble.
“Sure, but I never woulda dated him.” Allie was watching the men, who apparently thought they were slipping out of the restaurant unnoticed. Fred Spangler tiptoed past the bar, as if a two-hundred-pound car salesman with a mop of curly blond hair could sneak anywhere. His wife shook her head fondly. “I like a beefier man.” She chuckled. “And I got me a steer.”
“I didn’t date him, either,” Julia said, her eyes on Adam. He moved easily between the tables, avoiding hails of recognition by keeping his gaze focused on the exit.
Eyes on the exit. That was Adam Brody to a T.
“Nope.” Allie had switched her attention to the newlyweds. “It was always you and Zack, two peas in a pod.”
Adam looked over his shoulder at the last moment, straight at Julia. A telling warmth bloomed in her cheeks. She’d been wanting him for too many years to be able to switch her feelings off fast enough to completely hide them from his notice. Not even years of practice made perfect.
She swallowed past the lump forming in her throat. “Maybe we were too perfect together,” she heard herself saying, as if from a distance. All her energy was focused on Adam, who broke their moment of mutual awareness as quickly as he’d started it. He slipped beyond her sight, the heavy carved doors of the former bank building closing solidly behind him.
“How’s that?” Allie asked.
Julia waved a vague hand, waiting for her hammering pulse to fade. “Um, you know. There was no lasting heat.” Not a problem as far as Adam was concerned, even with very little encouragement.
Zack had been her first love, a puppy love, the summer she was sixteen. Adam hadn’t caught her attention in that way then—he was still a scrawny boy, always