Small-Town Hearts. Ruth Herne Logan

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СКАЧАТЬ weeks. Are you in a Chocolate Glazed Donut coffee mood, French Vanilla or straight?”

      “Chocolate. Always. And gainful employment and family stuff manage to steal time, don’t they?” Alyssa smiled her approval when Megan backed through the swinging half door with two mugs of flavored coffee.

      “Oh, yum.” Alyssa leaned forward, breathed deep, and relaxed into her chair. “This is lovely.”

      Megan laughed. “It is. And you look marvelous.”

      “Thank you. I’m not quite to beached-whale stage yet, so I’ll accept your compliment graciously. In six weeks, I may bite your head off, so be forewarned.”

      “I’ll take it under consideration. Are you helping staff the restaurant’s booth for the Balloon Rally?” Alyssa’s family owned and managed The Edge in Jamison, a gracious hilltop restaurant that overlooked the valley, now doubling as a wedding reception and special-occasion hot spot. Alyssa’s mother made to-die-for strudels, and the family sold them at a rally booth every year.

      Alyssa nodded. “Absolutely. It will be fun. I kept that weekend clear of weddings because it’s silly to overbook and drive the servers crazy. We’ve got to have enough people on-site for the rally to bake and serve, and who wants to miss the balloons or fight traffic to do a wedding on Balloon Rally weekend?”

      “Good point. And there’s only so much you can handle at this stage of pregnancy, right?”

      Alyssa shot her a look of disbelief. “Unfortunately, once you’ve got a kid, that scenario goes out the window. You hit the ground running once they’re born and you don’t look back. Trent keeps telling me to slow down, but I feel…” She sighed, smiling. “Wonderful.”

      “You’re married to one of the greatest guys on Earth, have a beautiful home perfect for raising babies and a job running a great restaurant. I’d say you have reason to feel wonderful.”

      “I agree.” Alyssa sat forward and grasped Megan’s hand. “And I wish the same for you. I heard that Brad and Denise were coming into town this week, and I had to hold myself back from going over to Jacqueline’s house and having it out with them.”

      “Old news.”

      “It still hurts.”

      Megan shrugged. “It really doesn’t. Not anymore. Oh, don’t get me wrong.” She met Alyssa’s raised brow with a half smile. “I don’t like the fact that they’re going to be underfoot all summer, but I really wish them well. It was a long time ago and I hope they’re happy together. And Brad did me a favor.” She sent a knowing look Alyssa’s way. “You and I both know that.”

      “And Michael?”

      “Grrr…” Megan mock scowled. “He did, too, but that whole left-at-the-altar thing? So not cool. My parents still go ballistic thinking about it, but I heard gossip that he’s cheating on his new girlfriend over at Alfred State, so again, it’s just as well. I’ve read half a dozen self-help books, and the conclusion is that I need to up my standards considerably. Not trade down.”

      “I won’t disagree there, and you’re better off without Michael. We all know that.” Alyssa squeezed her hand and leaned forward, her look empathetic. “But more than anything, I want you happy.”

      “Like you.”

      She beamed. “Exactly like me. So we can raise our kids together. Coach soccer teams. Watch football under the lights while we eat hamburgers grilled by our husbands for the Sports Boosters’ Fund.”

      “Smalltown, USA.”

      “But good.”

      Megan sighed. “It is good, but pretty unreachable. It’s not like Jamison and Wellsville are overflowing with a truckload of available thirty-somethings dying to settle down. Most of the available guys are unmarried for good reason.”

      Alyssa contemplated that, then nodded. “Unfortunately, you’re right. But they’re not the only game in town, I hear.” She slid her gaze left. “I understand we got a new tenant last week.”

      “Life in a small town.”

      “Oh, yes. Not much gets by people here. But in this case, the rumor mill has taken a very positive slant on this newcomer.”

      “He’s…nice.”

      “Nice?” Alyssa’s furrowed brow invited more.

      “And funny.”

      “Humor in a man is a wonderful thing. It almost makes them palatable. Tell me more.”

      Megan squirmed. “That’s it. He’s here for eight weeks on business, has a great smile. Not too tall, but tall enough that I look up to him.”

      “Oh, really?”

      “Stop. He’s just a tenant. And I’ve scarcely seen him. But he’s got great eyes.”

      “Does he now?” Alyssa leaned forward, heightened interest arching her brows, lighting her eyes. “Do you think he’s good-looking? Because I’ve heard he’s hot enough to burn toast in a microwave.”

      Megan laughed, considered, then nodded. “I can’t disagree, although your analogy’s a little strange. And he’s smart. Quick-witted. And totally off-limits.”

      “Why?”

      Megan raised her hands up. “Let’s backtrack to the ‘here for eight weeks’ part of the conversation. He leaves. I stay. I don’t need another bout of heartache, particularly in the public view again. Seriously, Lyssa, cut me some slack, okay? Once was hard. Twice was torture. No way in this world am I going for a third round. Uh-uh. I’m doing strategic planning to keep my heart intact.”

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