Three Little Words Read online

  But no, she was there, wasn’t she? And the first thing she’d done when he’d crossed the street and ducked under her umbrella was throw her free arm around him and apologize about twenty times for missing his grand opening. “I don’t know what happened. Or I guess I do, a deadline happened, but that’s no excuse. I’m so sorry, Seth. So, so sorry.”

  He’d accepted the apology, kissed her cheek, told her it was fine. And reminded himself of his determination not to repeat his parents’ mistakes. He was committed. He would follow through. He wouldn’t walk out.

  “Ah, Seth Walker.” The voice belonging to the Mandarin’s owner boomed as he approached the table.

  “Alec, long time, no see.”

  “Not my fault, son. You’ve been too busy opening up the competition.” The burly Scotsman couldn’t have looked or sounded more out of place here in Maple Valley—red mustache and ruddy cheeks, accent barely faded after what had to be at least a decade in the States. He might appear more lumberjack than chef, but he’d become a fixture in this town regardless.

  “No competition. The Red Door couldn’t possibly compete with your eggrolls.”

  Alec tapped the table. “Let me guess: General Tso, medium spicy, fried rice, two egg rolls, and a Coke.”

  “You got it.” Although if Ava was here, she’d egg him on about the Coke—demand an explanation for how he could drink the stuff after giving her such a hard time about it. “But I’m going to wait to order ’til Maddie gets back.”

  “Ahh, the lass has finally returned. Thought you two were . . . you know.” He slid one finger past his neck.

  “Beheaded?”

  Alec’s lips spread under his mustache. “Kaput. She used to visit every other weekend.” He said it with the assurance of a business owner in a small town where everyone knew everyone else’s comings and goings.

  And he was right, Maddie had visited regularly back in the beginning. And Seth had traveled her direction on the other two weekends each month. When had they gotten away from regular visits? Seth rubbed his chin. Shoot, he should have shaved today. Maddie wasn’t much for the scruffy look. “Guess we both got busy.”

  “If it’s love, there’s no such thing as too busy. Only too slow or too stupid.”

  “I think I was just insulted.”

  “I’m just saying, if you love the girl, it’s weird to spend that much time apart.”

  “Weirder than a Scottish ex-pat running a Chinese restaurant in small-town Iowa?”

  Alec chuckled. “Touché, my friend.”

  At the sight of Maddie emerging from the hallway, Seth cleared his throat. Alec turned. “Ah, my favorite Chicago magazine writer or designer or . . . What is it you do again?”

  Maddie reached the table. “Funny you should ask that, Alec.” She glanced at Seth as she sat. “Up until two days ago, I was an assistant editor. But today you’re looking at the magazine’s new managing editor.” Unmistakable, the pleasure in her eyes and the pride in her voice.

  Seth and Alec’s twin congratulations collided.

  Maddie beamed. “Thanks. So I think I’ll celebrate today and go off-diet.”

  Alec grinned. “Sesame chicken?”

  “With an extra helping of lo mein on the side. And a Mountain Dew.”

  Alec finished with their orders and scooted away. It was good to see Maddie so at ease with Alec. So they’d gone a while between visits. So she’d forgotten his grand opening. It didn’t mean the relationship was in danger.

  “Congratulations again. You deserve it.”

  She unwrapped her bundled silverware slowly, metal clinking to the table. “Speaking of congratulations, you’re the one who deserves huge kudos.” She met his eyes. “Your restaurant is beyond amazing. Thanks for the tour. When I realized I’d forgotten the opening, I about wanted to die. The whole way here I tried to think about what I could get you as a congratulations gift. What does a friend get a friend to celebrate such a huge success?”

  A friend? He rubbed clammy hands over his jeans, rain pattering against the glass window behind him. “I don’t know. Av—A.J. sent a tie.”

  A waitress stopped at their table then, drinks in hand. Soon as she’d placed their glasses in front of them and left, Seth’s gaze returned to Maddie. She ripped open her straw, plunked it in her glass and met his eyes once more. “Why’d she send it if she was coming to town?”

  “I don’t think she planned to come.”

  Strange, really, to think two weeks ago Ava had never even been to Maple Valley. He looked at Maddie now, though, read the displeasure in her eyes. She didn’t think . . . “She’s a friend, Maddie. You know that.”

  “I know you say that.”

  He took a drink of his Coke, carbonation burning down his throat. “Back when we first started emailing, I asked if it bothered you. You laughed and said no and that you kept in touch with male friends.”

  “Not every day, Seth. And they don’t send me packages or show up on my doorstep in Chicago.”

  “Madeline—”

  “Anyway, this isn’t why I came.” She pushed her glass away, a sigh tailing her words. “I do trust you, Seth, and you’ve got a noble streak in you I’ve always loved. So let’s just drop it.”

  He twisted his straw’s paper wrapper, fumbling for where to steer the conversation next. This isn’t how he’d imagined Maddie’s next visit. He’d imagined weeks of preparation and a romantic setting and that ring . . .

  What if he proposed right now? No, he didn’t have the ring with him. But maybe spontaneity was good. Maybe if he just got it done it’d smooth out the tension between them.

  The waitress returned, this time setting steaming plates in front of both of them. “Do you need anything else?”

  Only a do over of the past few minutes.

  When the waitress left, Maddie smoothed her napkin over her lap, then leveled him with a glance. “I thought maybe we could talk about what happens next, Seth.”

  “Yeah?”

  She nodded. Picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of sesame chicken. “For you and me, I mean. But especially you.” She met his eyes. “When are you moving back to Chicago?”

  7

  Ava had never felt quite so . . . dowdy.

  She chopped into a head of lettuce harder than she needed to, and for all of a minute wished she’d given in to the impulse to stop at that little boutique downtown and buy some frou-frou skirt.

  Or it wouldn’t have to be frou-frou or frilly or whatever. Just cute. Just something different than the same old jean shorts with the same old blue T-shirt. Something to make her feel less of the unfashionable tomboy she was while standing across the island counter from Maddie Rinehurst.

  Maddie with her dark hair and smoky eyes and porcelain skin.

  “You’re a bit fierce with that knife, A.J.”

  Even Maddie’s voice had a feminine, beguiling quality. But she eased off on the knife.

  “I hope it’s okay that I called you A.J. That’s what Seth called you, so I figured . . .”

  Seth had referred to her as A.J.? He never called her that. Even back in college when she’d been A.J. to Ryan and all the guys on the football team, Seth had always stuck with Ava. “Sure, it’s fine.”

  She and Maddie had been chopping vegetables for a salad in Case’s kitchen for about ten minutes now. They’d both attempted “friendly,” wearing it like a sweater that didn’t quite fit. But not for lack of trying. It was just that conversation seemed to fall flat at each turn.

  “It was nice of you to send him a tie for opening day. He’s not one for dressing up, that Seth. I think I’ve seen him in a suit jacket maybe three times in the two years we’ve dated.”

  Two years. It felt like a stern reminder, whether Maddie meant it as one or not.

  “It seemed like an appropriate gift for his big day.” An occasion you didn’t even acknowledge, let alone send a gift or show up for. It was a meanspirited thought, one she immediately felt guilty for. From what she’d see
n of Maddie in the half hour since meeting her, she seemed like a genuinely kind person. And what did Ava know about her reasons for not being at the restaurant opening? For all she knew, there’d been a family obligation. Or she hadn’t been able to take time off work. Or . . .

  I still would’ve been there. I was there.

  But she wasn’t Maddie.

  Another ridiculously unnecessary reminder.

  Maddie finished slicing her cucumber and laid her knife across her cutting board. “Looks like that’s the last veggie. Think I’ll go see how the men are doing with the grill.”

  She left through the patio doors, joining Seth, Case, and Bear on the deck. Raegan, too. Leaving Ava alone with only the sound of tearing lettuce and the taste of relief.

  It was going to be harder than she’d thought, watching Seth and Maddie together. She could see the two of them through the glass doors now—Maddie sidling up to Seth, him draping one arm around her shoulder.

  She sliced into the lettuce once more, muted laughter from outside drifting indoors. By the time the patio doors slid open again, she’d shredded the whole head and dropped leafy pieces into a salad bowl.

  “Fine-looking salad, Ava.” Case ambled into the kitchen as he spoke, bringing the smell of smoke and grilled meat in with him. “I love my nephew and that friend of his, but I can’t stand to watch what they do to meat.”

  “You’ve got your own method of grilling?”

  “Yes, and it involves charcoal and loads more patience than those two have. Crazy thing is, they don’t like to use charcoal because they say it takes too long. But then they go and leave the meat on their grill until its blackened to a crisp. They don’t know when to wait and when not to wait.”

  He shook his head, leaned both palms on the counter across from her. She could feel his study as she made quick work of slicing a tomato.

  “So how long are you staying around?” Case tossed the salad with a pair of tongs.

  Oh wow, it hadn’t even occurred to her that the poor man might want to know how much longer he could expect to have another houseguest. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been coming and going from your house like a regular family member, and you’re probably wondering—”

  He dropped the tongs and they clinked against the edge of the salad bowl. “Shoot, that wasn’t at all why I was asking. You’re welcome here as long as you want. I told Seth to tell you that on day one.”

  “Yeah, but between me and Seth” —And now Maddie?— “you’re practically running a bed and breakfast.”

  “Not quite. I’m not getting paid.”

  She glanced up in time to see the tease in his eyes.

  “But if you want to know the truth, I like having a full house. It’s been a little too empty since Flora died. I rarely have all four kids home at the same time. Makes me happy when all these bedrooms get put to use.”

  Ava’s cutting stilled. “I know it was quite a few years ago, Mr. Walker, but—”

  “Case.”

  Right. He’d been telling her to call him by his first name for two weeks. But he was the kind of man that seemed to produce extra doses of respect without demanding or expecting it. Seth had told her he served in Vietnam and then later as a U.S. ambassador in Europe, before moving home when his wife became sick.

  Perhaps it was his past as a soldier and government official that had her more comfortable calling him sir or Mr. Walker than Case.

  “Anyway, I meant to say, I’m really sorry about your wife. It must’ve been horribly hard on you and your kids.” She knew enough to know it’d been hard on Seth, too. He didn’t talk about his own parents much, but she had a feeling Case and Flora Walker had been a force of stability in his life when his own parents had failed to be the same.

  “It was hard. Still is some days. But I’ll never forget the last conversation we had before she finally gave in and let hospice give her pain meds. She told me it was time to let go. Not just for my own sake, but for hers. She needed that freedom in the end.”

  Case spoke softly, his gaze on the window over the kitchen sink, one finger tapping on the counter top. Then he returned his focus to Ava. “There’s a lot of freedom in letting go. But then, there’s times when we need to hold on, too. Guess that’s one of the keys in life. Knowing when to hold on, when to let go.”

  He plucked a cucumber slice from the salad bowl and took a bite. “You know what I mean?”

  “Think I do.” She resisted the urge to look outside again. Instead, picked up her cutting board and carried it to the sink. “As for how long I’m sticking around, I’ve been mulling something ever since this afternoon. A possible job opportunity in my hometown. My sister and her boyfriend want me to interview for it right away.”

  “Any reason you wouldn’t?”

  If Case hinted at anything more than a surface meaning to his question, his face didn’t show it.

  “None that I can think of.” Not quite the truth. But at least no legitimate, logical reasons.

  “Well then, it never hurts to at least go through with an interview, right? Consider it?”

  “Guess not.”

  He picked up the salad bowl. “All right then.” He nodded as if to say, Decision made. “Come on outside. Let’s go eat.”

  “When are you moving back to Chicago?”

  Maddie’s surprise question had been ping-ponging around his brain ever since she asked it. Seven, eight hours of mulling, and he still couldn’t figure out how she’d just assumed he was moving back to Chicago after opening The Red Door.

  “Get your head in the game, Walker, or we’re going to get clobbered by a couple girls.” Bear threw the basketball at him from across the driveway.

  “Yeah, you are,” Raegan shot back. She turned to Ava. “I’m trying to think of something to say about girl power that won’t sound dumb.”

  Ava shook her head. “Don’t even try. It’s a phrase that’ll never sound cool.”

  Raegan angled around Bear. “All right, then. Fist bump?”

  Ava nodded, then turned back to Seth, positioning herself in front of him where he stood at the edge of the driveway, their designated boundary. The sun had long since set, leaving only the buzzing yard light overhead to brighten the “court.”

  “Go, Seth!”

  Maddie’s call came from where she sat on the porch steps with Case. He’d tried to talk her into joining the game. “Then it’d be uneven.”

  “I think Ava and Rae might need the help.”

  Both girls had stuck their tongues out at him. Maddie had pointed to her shoes. “Really, I’m happy watching.”

  He wasn’t so sure of that. Wasn’t sure she’d been happy all day, really. Not since he’d looked across that table at her in the Mandarin and asked her what she talking about.

  “What I’m talking about? Seth, I’m talking about us finally moving forward in our relationship.”

  “And the only way we can do that is if I come back to Chicago?”

  “It’s where my job is.”

  “And my job is here.”

  “You didn’t think I was just going to quit the magazine and follow you to Iowa, did you?”

  That’s exactly what he’d expected. Why wouldn’t he have, when she’d been so quick to support his move to Iowa? She’d encouraged him to move forward with the restaurant, take out the loan, make it happen. She’d told him how proud she was a bazillion times. She’d said she wished she had as much love for her hometown as he did.

  And in his mind, that support had translated into her eventual relocation.

  Clearly they’d both been assuming things. Opposite things. And he had no idea what to do now.

  “You gonna throw the ball in or what, Walker?”

  He blinked, met Ava’s eyes—so blue and glinting with playful competitiveness. He narrowed his own gaze. “Yeah, I’m gonna throw it in. Throw it in or . . .” He spurted past her, her surprised “Hey!” ringing out behind him.

  His tennis shoes beat over the cement as he an
gled toward the hoop, then at the last minute, just as Ava caught up to him, he passed the ball to Bear, whose jump shot swooshed through the hoop.

  “And that’s how it’s done.”

  Bear’s smug boast earned an annoyed glare from Raegan, who went after the bouncing ball and lobbed it to Ava.

  “I believe that makes the score 51-50. Care to give it up yet, ladies?” Seth addressed both of them but looked straight at Ava as she took her spot behind the driveway edge.

  “You wish.”

  “Come on, we’ve been going back and forth for an hour now.”

  “Tired?” She grinned and dribbled the ball.

  “No, just not sure how much longer I can keep holding back.”

  She lifted the ball, held it under one arm. “You are not holding back. You’re sweaty and out of breath.”

  “Am not.” Was so. He was completely winded. He and Bear might’ve exchanged glances at the beginning of the game, agreeing without words to let the girls think they had a chance.

  But then Ava and Rae had come out firing on all cylinders. He’d forgotten how good Rae was. And Ava, as always, the perfect show of athleticism and skill. For all he knew, maybe Bear was still going easy on Raegan, but Seth had been playing hard.

  “Admit you’re not holding back,” Ava drilled him. “Admit it.”

  “Don’t do it, Seth.” Bear growled.

  Ava winked. He grinned. “I’m so not holding back.”

  She gave a smug nod. “That’s what I thought.” Then just like he had, she rushed past him, dribbling toward the basket. But instead of mimicking his last-minute pass, she went in for the layup.

  Raegan let out a whoop. “51-51.”

  “I say next basket wins the game.” This from Bear.

  “You’re only saying that because you’ve got possession now.”

  Bear shrugged with a cocky grin.

  “Fine with me,” Ava said. She nodded at Raegan. There was a cue in that nod. He could tell.

  Bear took the ball to the line. Dribbled. Eyed the basket. Raegan guarded him from a distance. But then, as Bear ran the ball in, suddenly Ava barreled at him instead of Raegan, easily stealing the ball in the wake of his surprise, Raegan’s laughter her applause.