Always You: A Lilac Bay Novel (Friends with Benefits) (7 page)

“Oh, I know!” Cora cried. “What about Liam?”

And just like that, the suggestion of anything between Andrew and I was forgotten. I was relieved—there had been something in his face when I turned to see him standing there that I hadn’t liked. Something that looked almost like—hurt. But that was silly. Andrew wouldn’t have hurt feelings about anything that I said. He’d said the same things himself, dozens of times.

“Here,” he said, crouching next to my chair. “Take this.” Something touched my hand, and I looked down to see him pressing his camera into my hand. “I took those shots at the game, remember? Thought you’d want to finish up the application tomorrow.”

“Oh—right.” I looked up into his face. If there
had
been hurt feelings before, all traces were now gone. He looked just the way he always did. Carefree, friendly, and just a little mischievous. That was Andrew Powell.

“I’ll try to get this finished up tomorrow. You want to come over and help me add these shots?”

He shrugged, eyes twinkling wickedly. “I’ll call you. Might be kind of a late night, if you know what I mean.”

I rolled my eyes, taking the camera from him. “You’re so gross, Andrew.”

“Yeah. That’s what you said,” he muttered. Then, as he released the camera, his fingers brushed against mine.

Something flashed across his face, something that looked a lot like what I had thought I’d seen when he'd first appeared. He was just staring at me, his face inches away. My heart started to beat faster. Was I blushing?

But then Andrew was standing, his expression normal. “I’ll see you later, Riley.”

“Um. Yeah.” I swallowed, wondering what in the hell was wrong with me. I didn’t need to feel guilty about teasing Andrew. It was what we did. “I’ll see you later, Andrew.”

Then he turned, presumably in search of the blonde, swallowed up by the crowds within seconds, leaving me at the table with the rest of our friends, plotting out the next step in my love life.

A
t the end
of the day on Monday, Andrew and I sent our application to the producers of
Daytime Dale
from my computer at work.

“We put together a good presentation,” he told me, after I clicked the submit button. “You should feel good about it.”

“I do.” I'd spent the entire weekend thinking of ways to improve on our application and could safely say that nothing else had come to mind. We had painted a good picture of our hometown. “All we can do now is wait.”

“Come on,” he said, grabbing my jacket from the back of my chair and handing it to me. “I’ll buy you a drink. Maybe that will help the wait go faster.”

“I think we’re going to have wait a bit longer than the time it takes to have a drink.”

“Then we may as well get the week off to a good start.”

I followed him out of the office, but we were stopped short of our goal by Millie.

“Did you turn in that report, Riley? Mayor Jones has been waiting.”

“I turned it in earlier this afternoon.”

She frowned. “I didn’t see it.”

I gave her my brightest smile, knowing that it would only irritate her all the more. “That’s because you weren’t at your desk when I came to his office. So I gave it directly to the mayor himself.”

Her frown deepened. She now looked remarkably similar to someone smelling something awfully bad, her nose all scrunched up in distaste. “You gave it directly to the mayor?”

“I did.”

“That’s not protocol.”

Andrew snorted beside me, and her eyes flicked over to him before returning to me, even more full of distaste than before.

“There’s a proper procedure we’re supposed to follow with these things.”

“Are you saying I should have made the mayor wait, Millie?” I asked, feigning shock. “While you were over in accounting visiting with Carl?”

Little red splotches appeared on her cheeks, and I grinned broadly. It was nice to be the one annoying her for once.

“If you’ll excuse us,” Andrew said, before she could splutter out a response. “We have plans.”

He took my elbow, leading me around her, now beet-red with anger.

“I’m going to pay for that tomorrow,” I told him.

“It will be worth the extra paperwork just to see her gaping like a fish.” He mimicked the way she had opened and closed her mouth in ager, making me laugh.

We hit the sidewalk and I closed my eyes for a moment, taking in the sunshine. “Spring is definitely here,” I told him.

“It is.” We set off down Main Street toward Cora’s. “Plans for the Fish Fry going okay?”

“Oh, you know.” I kicked a pebble in my path. “Same as always.”

The Fish Fry was an annual event on the island, held every year on the first Friday of May. It was traditionally the last big event before the tourism season started, a way for the permanent residents of Lilac Bay to celebrate together before everyone became overwhelmed with the influx of guests that always began to stream in before Memorial Day. The Town Square would be filled with tables—Cora would sell mulled mead, the Elks Club would fry up the fish, and we would all listen to music and be social. It was a nice event, one of my favorites, but there wasn’t much to the planning of it.

“Who’s in charge of the haul this year?” he asked.

“Your dad, actually.”

Andrew made a face.

“It’s a good thing he volunteered,” I told him. “Remember last year, when we let Jerry Brooks be in charge? He didn’t bring in nearly enough. David and some of the other guys were out fishing all day before the fry.”

“Yeah, but if my dad is in charge that means I’m going to get guilted into helping.”

“You love fishing,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, I love fishing for fun. Not because my dad is making me do it.”

I patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll excuse me if I don’t feel particularly bad for you. Being forced to participate in one of your favorite hobbies.” I gave a mock shudder. “The horror.”

“You’re in a sassy little mood today, aren’t you?” he asked.

Before I could respond, my cell phone rang.

I pulled it from my purse, frowning at the name on the screen. Rebecca.

“You could just ignore it,” Andrew suggested softly. But I sighed, thinking of the many other times my little sister had called me in a panic, needing my help.

“You know that I can’t.”

“Riley?” she said when I answered. She sounded okay, her voice even. No panic. I breathed in a sigh of relief.

“Hey. Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah, everything is fine. I just wondered if you wanted to come over for dinner? I made a pot of chili and there’s way too much food here.”

“Oh, well—”

“You said this weekend that you were too busy, but you might be free during the week,” she reminded me, a definite edge to her voice. “So I’m calling you during the week.”

“I know, Beccs, but it’s pretty short notice.”

“Well, what are you doing? It’s a Monday night, you don’t have a game.”

God, she could be so pushy. “I actually have dinner plans.”

“With who?”

I searched my brain for a suitable person, someone that she wouldn’t just invite over.

“Hey, Riley!” a cheerful voice called from the street in front of us. Hank, one of the town’s carriage drivers, was making his slow and steady way towards the corner. “Andrew,” he continued. “Nice to see you, son. Good game you two had last week.”

“Thanks, Hank,” Andrew called back.

“Is that Andrew?” Rebecca asked shrewdly. “Is that who you have plans with?”

I sighed. There wasn’t really any way to put her off at this point. “Yes, Andrew and I were going to grab a drink.”

“Well, bring him along,” she said. “There’s a ton of food here.”

“Rebecca—”

“Here, pass him the phone.”

I sighed, holding it out for him. “Beccs wants to talk to you.”

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said into the phone, winking at me. I rolled my eyes. Was flirting a biological imperative to him? “Dinner tonight?” He looked over at me while I shook my head, mouthing the word no. His eyes widened, and I knew it was hopeless. Andrew was a terrible liar. I usually appreciated that about him, but was it so much to ask that he come up with an excuse every once in a while? “That sounds great, Beccs. Thanks for asking.”

I glared at him as he handed the phone back.

“I guess we’ll be over in a few,” I said to my sister.

“Great! Would you mind stopping at Libby’s and grabbing a bottle of red wine? I only have white here. Unless you’d rather have beer?”

“We’ll get both,” I told her. “See you soon.”

I slipped the phone back into my purse and glared at him.

“We really need to work on your white lies, Andrew.”

“Hey, it’s not my job to lie to your sister. Besides, I could use a home-cooked meal.”

“Yeah, because it’s been so long since you Powells had a huge feast at your grandmother’s. Oh, wait—you have Sunday dinner there every week.”

He shrugged. “I’m a growing boy.”

Fifteen minutes later we arrived at my sister’s little house, armed with a six-pack of Bell’s, Michigan’s finest brew, and a bottle of Merlot. From the front porch I could hear two of the boys yelling—though the sound was too muffled to tell who it was or what they were fighting over.

“Hello!” I called, rapping at the front door. Rebecca was probably the only person on the island who locked her door during the day. She blamed her caution on the fact that her husband worked for the police force, but I had a feeling it had more to do with her TV habits. The girl watched way too many true crime shows.

“Mason, honey,” Rebecca called from somewhere in the house. “Answer the door!”

“I don’t want to!” he cried back. “Make Jayden!”

“Mason! You listen to me right now!”

“But
Mom
—”

“Oh my God,” I muttered. “This is off to a fantastic start.” I leaned in close to the door. “Mason, open this door or I’m going to let Andrew eat all the candy I brought you!”

“Aunt Riley!” he called happily. A moment later the door swung open to reveal my oldest nephew, a Nintendo DS in his hand. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Your mom just invited us for chili.”

He made a face. “Gross. I hate chili.”

“Me too!” Aiden echoed, appearing at his brother’s side. “It’s so gwoss!”

“
Gross
, dummy,” Mason said, pushing him. “Not
gwoss
.”

Aiden immediately burst into tears. “I’m not dumb!”

“Of course you’re not.” I bent to pick up the baby, plucking Mason’s DS from his hands as I pushed my way into the foyer. “You know you’re not supposed to call your brother names.”

“Aw, come on, Aunt Riley.”

“Go see if your mother needs help with anything,” I told him. “She sounds stressed out.” He made a face at me and I patted my purse. “Okay, I guess there’s just more candy for the rest of us.”

Mason stomped off towards the kitchen and I set Aiden down on the couch. “Here you go,” I said, handing him the DS.

“That’s a mean aunt move, right there,” Andrew said, shutting the front door behind him. “Taking the video game from one kid and giving it to the other?”

“He shouldn’t have called him a name, then,” I said. “He’s been doing that to both of his brothers lately. It’s bratty.”

“You would have loved me and my brother if you think that’s bratty.”

“Oh, I’m quite familiar with how bratty you and your brother are,” I told him. “You haven’t grown out of it at all.”

Rebecca stuck her head around the doorway to the kitchen. “Hey, guys!”

“Hey,” Andrew said, stepping forward to kiss her cheek. “We were just about to come in and ask if you needed help.”

“
He
was,” I said, settling on the couch next to Aiden, now happily engrossed in the DS. “I thought I’d stay here, kick my feet up—”

“You’re so funny,” she said, looking to Andrew. “How do you put up with her in that office all day?”

He sighed. “It’s a struggle.”

“Careful,” I told him. “I’m more than willing to withhold candy from you as well.”

“Riley, will you go get Jayden?” Rebecca asked. “He’s moping in his room.” She patted Andrew’s chest. “Come on, why don’t you come in and open that wine for me, and we can complain about how annoying my sister is.”

I found Jayden in the room that he shared with his older brother. Rebecca and Jake lived in a three-bedroom ranch, though
three-bedroom
was a bit of an exaggeration. Aiden’s room was barely larger than a closet, while the two older boys shared a room that hardly fit their bunk bed. I found Jayden sitting on the bottom bunk, a coloring book in his hands. He didn’t look up when I entered.

“What’s up there, buddy?” I asked, taking a seat next to him on the bunk. “You coloring?”

“I guess so,” he said, clutching the crayon in his hand a little tighter, but not bringing it to the paper.

“Iron Man, huh?” I asked, seeking at the cover. “He’s pretty cool.”

“Not as cool as Captain America,” he grumbled.

“Oh, absolutely. Cap is the best Avenger.”

Jayden sighed. “I told mom that. Mason is the one who likes Iron Man. But she bought the wrong one.”

I made a mental note to bring Jayden a new coloring book the next time I came over.

“Is that why you’re grumpy?”

“I’m not grumpy,” he said, rubbing his eyes. They looked red and I wondered if he was the one I had heard crying.

“It’s okay to be grumpy, Jay,” I told him, rubbing his back. “Everyone gets grumpy sometimes.”

“Not my mommy.”

I laughed. “Believe me, kid, I lived with your mommy for sixteen years. She definitely gets grumpy.” He still didn’t look up. I wondered what had happened to make him so upset tonight. He was such a sensitive little guy; it didn’t take much to send him off to his room. “Did you know that Andrew came over with me?” I asked. “He gets grumpy a lot.”

He finally looked up, his eyebrows raised. Jayden adored Andrew and Eddie, ever since the Powell twins had taken him out on their boat the summer before for an all-day fishing trip on Lake Michigan. It wasn’t very often that he got to do grown-up things without his older brother around. He had talked about that day for months. I had already told Andrew that he would be repeating the favor this summer.

“Oh, yeah,” I said. “You should see him before he has his coffee in the morning. He’s a major grump.”

“Does he throw temper tantrums?”

“All the time. Sometimes he even stomps his foot and cries.”

Finally, Jayden laughed. “I don’t believe you.”

“Oh, believe it, kid,” Andrew said from the doorway. I looked up to see him leaning against the frame. “One time I even threw myself on the ground and screamed.”

Jayden giggled.

“Your mom sent me to see what was taking you so long. Your dad is home.”

“Daddy!” Jayden cried, all traces of grumpiness sliding form his face. He tossed the coloring book aside and ran from the room. From the living room I heard the cries and laughter that indicated that Jake had arrived.

“I throw temper tantrums, huh?” Andrew asked as I stood.

I shrugged as I passed by him on my way to the kitchen. “Hey, someone had to tell the kid the truth.”