Shaking his head, Nathan mentally closed the door on the past. It was done and he wouldn’t be revisiting it anytime soon.
“You always were the hardhead in the family,” Jake said on a sigh.
Nathan managed a short laugh at that. “Seems to me your Terri might argue with you there.”
“Probably,” Jake admitted with a wince. “Nate, I don’t know what happened between you two seven years ago—” he held up a hand again “—and I’m not asking. I’m just saying, she’s home to stay now and you’re going to have to find a way to get past whatever happened so long ago. You’re going to have to deal with her. Maybe the two of you should actually try talking about what happened to break you guys up.”
Nathan grimaced, took a pull at his beer and let the icy froth cool down the temper that was still simmering inside him. “Where is all this talking, share-your-feelings stuff coming from? Is Terri making you watch Dr. Phil again?”
“No.” Jake looked embarrassed. “But I’m not an idiot any more than you are and I know you know you have to make your peace with Amanda.”
Another sip of ice-cold beer slid down Nathan’s throat as he thought about what his brother said. And then a fresh memory of Amanda, molding her body to his. The heat of her kiss. The scent of her filled his mind. The feel of her beneath his hands again. His body stirred and he winced at the ache that he had a feeling was going to become all too familiar.
“Jake,” Nathan said softly, “you don’t get it. I learned a long time ago, where Amanda’s concerned, there is no peace.”
One thing Amanda had always loved about living in Royal was the big farmers’ market held every weekend in the park.
Ranchers and farmers from all over the county showed up to sell fresh vegetables, fruit and preserves. There were always craft booths as well, with local artisans selling everything from jewelry to ceramics and handmade toys.
At barely 9:00 a.m., the sun was already a hot ball of misery glowering down on the town. By afternoon, the only people not huddled in an air-conditioned room would be the kids. But for right now, the park was buzzing with activity. The busiest vendors in the park were those who had claimed a spot beneath the shade of a live oak.
Amanda had the day off and she was determined to enjoy it. But, as she wandered through the market, it was clear that the Royal rumor mill was in high gear.
She felt the speculative glances thrown her way as she passed and she lifted her chin defiantly in response. No point in hiding, she told herself. Instead, she would just ignore the fact that whispered conversations would stop when she got close and pick up again as she moved off. Clearly, someone had seen Nathan at her place the other night and it hadn’t taken long for tongues to start wagging.
Amanda stopped at a booth displaying hand-thrown pottery and idly picked up a kiln-fired, sky-blue pitcher.
The artist, a young woman with waist-length blond hair and bright green eyes, smiled at her. “I’m running a special today on the cornflower-blue pottery.”
And if she’d picked up one of the earthenware jugs, Amanda thought, that would have been the special of the day. But she couldn’t blame the woman for doing her best to make a sale. Besides, she was going to be looking for a house in town soon and she’d need to furnish it, wouldn’t she? Smiling, she said, “It’s lovely work. How much?”
“Only thirty-five.”
“Sold,” Amanda told her and set the pitcher down to reach for her wallet. She probably could have haggled, but it was beautiful and she really did want it.
Purchase made, Amanda left a satisfied artist behind her, tucked her new pitcher into the cloth shopping bag slung over her shoulder and wandered off toward the next booth.
“Amanda, hi!” Piper Kindred waved her over with a wide grin. Piper’s curly red hair was drawn back into a ponytail and her green eyes were shining. “Haven’t had a chance to talk to you since you moved back home.”
“I know. Things have been so busy, but we have got to get together soon.” Amanda had known Piper most of her life and seeing her friend now made Amanda realize again how much she’d missed being a part of Royal.
“I hear you and Nathan are getting cozy again …”
“Of course you did,” Amanda said. A few days ago, Nathan had shown up at her apartment and kissed her senseless. Ever since then, she’d had dozens of customers who spent most of their time at the diner watching her. Including Nathan, she reminded herself. He made time to come in at least once a day. He’d order coffee, sit at the counter and watch her as she moved around the room.
Nerve-racking on all fronts.
“Anything you care to share?” Piper teased.
“Not a thing,” Amanda assured her old friend, then abruptly changed the subject. “So,” she asked, stepping back to read the sign strung across the front of the booth Piper was manning, “what’re you selling?”
“Raffle tickets,” Piper told her and used her thumb to fan a stack of them. “We’re raising money to help pay for the new child-care center at the TCC.”
Grinning, Amanda said, “I heard the motion passed. Beau Hacket must have been purple with fury.”
“By all reports,” Piper assured her. Then she sighed. “I only wish I’d seen it myself. You remember Shannon Morrison? She tells me she came within a breath of hogtieing the old coot just for the hell of it.”
Beau was possibly the last living true chauvinist in the world. He liked women fine, as long as they stayed in their “place.” Amanda had never been able to figure out why a woman as nice as his wife, Barbara, had married the man in the first place. “Sorry I missed it.”
“More and more women are becoming members of the TCC now that Abby Price paved the way.” Piper paused. “I’m not a member or anything, but I wanted to help with this raffle. How many tickets are you going to buy?”
Shaking her head, Amanda reached for her wallet and laughed. “Give me five.”
“Atta girl.” Piper peeled off the tickets and waited while Amanda wrote her name and phone number on the stubs. When she was finished, Piper dropped the stubs into a steel box and said, “The draw’s in a week. Who knows? You might win the grand prize.”
“What is it?”
“A weekend getaway in Dallas.” Piper shrugged. “Personally, I’d rather win the free dinner at Claire’s.”
“Hey,” Amanda countered, in a mocking insulted tone, “how about you come eat at the diner instead? We’ve got lemon meringue pie tomorrow.”
“Now you’re talking,” Piper said. “I’ll come in around lunch. Maybe we can sit and talk over pie. You can give me the real story behind the gossip.”
“You’ll be disappointed. There is no story.” Except for that kiss, Amanda thought. She waved a goodbye, then moved on. She was still smiling when she caught the scent of fresh-brewed coffee along with a delectable aroma of cinnamon coming from nearby. Marge Fontenot had probably brought in her homemade cinnamon rolls to sell in the coffee booth her husband ran. Amanda’s stomach growled in anticipation as she headed for the vendor cart with the long line snaking in front of it.
“Doing some shopping?”
She stopped and looked at Alex Santiago as he approached her.
“I