Wedding Willies. Victoria Pade

full of tools and paint cans and light fixtures. It’s a mess. And I don’t know where we would have put all the stuff if we had to clear it out for her—the garage is packed, too. That’s where the wall-board and the new bathtub and the sinks and the rest of the plumbing supplies are.”

      “It’s no big deal,” Ad assured. “The place was empty anyway. Why shouldn’t she use it?”

      “Yeah, but you’ve been picking up the slack for us as hosts, too. I didn’t mean for you to have to entertain her but—”

      “I’m hardly entertaining her. She’s with Kira most of the time. I just did a little kitchen duty last night is all.”

      “And you picked her up at the bus station and kept her company for us when we were getting Mel stitched up.”

      “No big deal.”

      “Yeah, well I owe you.”

      “Believe me, you really don’t,” Ad said slightly under his breath, thinking that none of the time he’d spent with Kit had been a hardship on him. In fact, it had been the opposite.

      Maybe that had somehow echoed in his tone because it drew a curious look from his friend.

      But Cutty didn’t comment on it, and Ad didn’t expound. Instead they both raised their bottles to their mouths again.

      When they’d set them down once more Cutty said, “This was a good idea tonight. I’ve been so damn busy it seems like ten years since we’ve just had a beer and a burger.”

      “Buying a new house, moving, remodeling, getting married—that’ll keep you occupied all right.”

      “’Course I did wonder if it was really my company and Kira’s you were after tonight. Or if maybe you’d just worked up a plan to get a little Kit-time in for yourself—if maybe you’ve liked picking up the slack for us.”

      Ad gave his friend a sideways glance. “That’s what you were wondering, huh?”

      “Is it true?”

      “I invite you for a beer, a little dinner, and you think I have ulterior motives,” Ad joked, pretending he was injured by the suggestion.

      “Uh-huh. I notice you aren’t denying it, though. Could it be you’re interested in Kit?” Cutty asked.

      “She’s an interesting enough person. We have some things in common—restaurant work for instance.”

      “Uh-huh,” Cutty repeated. “So you’re definitely interested.”

      Ad took another drink of beer. Then he said, “Nah.”

      “Okay. Let me put it a different way. If Kit had been born and raised in Northbridge, would you definitely be interested?”

      “Definitely?” Ad hedged.

      “Would you be interested?” Cutty said insistently.

      “Maybe,” was the most Ad would concede. But it wasn’t because he was playing games with his friend. He really didn’t want to give in to being attracted to Kit, and it seemed as if admitting anything to Cutty would be the first step in letting down his guard.

      “But since she isn’t a permanent fixture around here, you aren’t interested?” Cutty finished for him.

      “Right.”

      Cutty ate some more nuts. “Seems like the number of Northbridge women on your dance card is pretty low.”

      “I’ve been out with a few,” Ad claimed defensively.

      “One or two dates. You’ve already seen Kit twice and here we are tonight—you’ve bent over backward to arrange number three.”

      “I didn’t bend over backward. I called you and said why don’t we have dinner after the fitting. How is that bending over backward?”