An (Almost) Perfect Love Story (Love Story Book Three) Page 3

  Next to me, Chris looked uncomfortable, and I thought I saw Emily’s face fall. “Actually, we’ll be out of town next weekend,” Chris said, looking apologetic. “Sorry, man.”

  “We will?” I asked, turning to him.

  He shrugged sheepishly. “Surprise.”

  “Oh!” I said, realizing what he meant. Valentine’s Day.

  “Seriously?” Ryan asked, rolling his eyes. “That BS holiday isn’t until Saturday. You can’t spare your Friday to keep me company?”

  “I have a whole weekend thing planned,” Chris said, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. I could tell that this wasn’t the way he had planned to tell me, but I felt a rush of excitement all the same. What was he up to?

  “What about you?” Ryan asked, sounding almost aggressive as he turned to Emily.

  She looked abashed. “We’re going, too. Me and Elliot.”

  I stared at her in surprise. She was in on this, whatever Chris was planning? Before I could ask any of the questions that were running through my head, I caught sight of Ryan’s face. My stomach sank. They obviously hadn’t asked him along.

  “I’m sorry, man,” Chris said, obviously picking up on the same thing I had. “I didn’t really think it would be your thing.”

  “That’s fine,” Ryan said, though it obviously wasn’t. He was a good actor though; his voice had that same light, teasing tone he normally had. “God knows I have no desire to be closeted up with a bunch of boring couples somewhere. You guys have fun. I’ll be out on the town enjoying the fact that I’m not tied down.”

  I looked at Emily as Ryan took a swig of his beer. He wasn’t fooling her either. I’ll talk to him, she mouthed. I nodded.

  “So what’s next?” Ryan asked, setting down his beer. “What do you guys feel like?”

  “I think I’m ready for something stronger than a beer,” Emily said, her voice bright. “Should we hit a bar?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Chris said.

  “Maybe somewhere with dancing?” Em offered, hoping to cheer Ryan up. He raised an eyebrow at me, clearly not fooled by her attempts at sounding casual.

  “You know I’m in,” I said. “When have I ever passed up the chance to go dancing?”

  “Oh, what the hell,” Chris said, throwing down his napkin. “We haven’t been dancing in forever. Why not?”

  Ryan grinned. I had a feeling it was his first sincere smile of the evening. I made a mental note to make plans with him, just the two of us, soon. Something was up with him, I could just tell, something more than just his irritation that the four of us would be going away for the weekend.

  He seemed happy enough now, though, now that we were all in agreement on the dancing front. Before anyone could stop him, he threw some money down on the table to cover the bill. “My treat,” he said. “Now let’s get going.”

  * * *

  I woke up the next morning on the couch in our living room. I glanced blearily around the room, my head pounding for some reason, to see Emily curled up in her beloved papasan chair. Ryan was sprawled on the floor next to her, his leather jacket curled up under his head like a pillow.

  It all came rushing back to me then, the dancing until two a.m., the staggering home in a cab only to continue our little dance party in the living room, where Chris played DJ and Ryan argued with him over the selection. I had a vague recollection of doing shots at one point, but that part of the night remained blurry.

  “I’m dying,” Ryan moaned suddenly from his jacket pillow. “Seriously. Someone make the pounding stop.”

  “Me, too,” I whispered, afraid talking louder would hurt my head even more.

  “I told you all to stop drinking after the second shot,” Emily said from her chair, not bothering to open her eyes. “You should have listened to me.”

  I managed to pull myself up into a sitting position. Bright light was flooding in from the living room windows, making it painful to keep my eyes open. Of course the clouds we’d had for the past several weeks would choose this morning to dissipate, right when sunlight was totally unwelcome to me.

  “Where’s Chris?” I asked, looking around the room.

  “Did we lose him?” Ryan asked, sitting up himself. He immediately put his hands over his eyes. “God. I’m never doing that again.”

  “Yeah, you say that every time,” Emily said, snuggling closer into her chair. “You’re turning into a lush in your old age, Ry.”

  I snorted. “Or maybe we just can’t handle our liquor like we used to.”

  “It has been a while since I’ve drunk like that,” Ryan agreed, rubbing his temples. “God, I’m getting soft.”

  Just then, the front door swung open, revealing Chris holding several Styrofoam containers. “Good, you’re all up,” he said, pushing his way into the room and managing to shut the door behind him with a foot. “I come bearing sustenance.”

  Emily sat up immediately. “Do I smell grease?”

  “You do indeed. Grease and carbs, the perfect morning-after food.”

  I whimpered a little. “Have I told you I love you?”

  Chris laughed. “As a matter of fact, you have. Come on, I’m starved.”

  We all followed him into the kitchen, Ryan and I at a slightly slower pace than Emily. “Were we the only ones who overdid it?” I asked.

  “Yup,” Emily said, plopping herself into a chair at the kitchen table.

  “Really?” Chris asked, raising an eyebrow at her. He set the food containers on the table and turned to the cabinets for plates. “I recall you serenading all of us with Britney Spears songs last night.”

  Emily froze. “Oh my God, I did not. Did I?”

  “You did,” Chris said, laughing. “You should probably call Elliot, too. Apologize.”

  “I called Elliot,” Emily said slowly, as if just remembering it. “Holy hell. I sang to him.”

  Ryan and I burst out laughing. “You did!” he hooted. “That’s amazing, you so did.”

  Emily buried her face in her hands. “Not so high and mighty now, are you?” I asked happily, helping myself to hash browns. I moaned as I took my first bite. “This is so good, Chris, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, leaning over to kiss my head. “I figured you guys would need hangover food. I stopped way before you, and even I feel pretty rough this morning.”

  We all felt much better after we had stuffed our faces. I was thrilled to find that Ryan had brought an extra set of clothes and had no intention of going home that morning. We all took turns in the shower before settling down to veg out in front of the TV. It was just like old times, the four of us together, laughing at some stupid comedy, eating junk food, teasing each other. I could almost pretend we were back in the dorms at Michigan State, before jobs and relationships made us so busy.

  I expected Ryan to want to leave as evening began to set in. He usually had big plans on the weekend; expecting him to give us two nights in a row was often too much to ask. Ryan had a staggering network of friends; it seemed as if he knew someone everywhere we went. He was always full of stories of exciting happenings in his life—club openings, hot new restaurants, parties at lofts downtown. I had no problem admitting that Ryan was much cooler than the rest of us. I was just happy to get him when I could. So I was thrilled when he suggested we order a pizza for dinner. Apparently he was staying with us after all.

  As Emily phoned in our order, he wandered over to our bookshelves, perusing our selection. “You know what we haven’t done in ages?” he asked, turning to me with a big grin on his face. He held up a board game from one of the shelves. “Trivial Pursuit. You in?”

  I grinned back. “Only if you promise to stay again tonight. I miss you.”

  He came over and put his arm around my shoulders, kissing the top of my head. “You got it, sweetheart.” He looked down at me, his expression so very Ryan that it made my heart turn, for some reason. “Between the two of us, I bet we could get them to watch a chick-flick.”

  I
laughed and squeezed him back. “It’s a plan.”

  Chapter Four

  As the kindergarten Valentine’s Day party finally rolled around, I had to admit that Susan had a point. The kids were bouncing off the walls, the promise of candy and a suspension of the status quo too enticing. But I found that I had no desire to tamp down on their enthusiasm; I felt like a kid myself. The truth was, I had always loved Valentine’s Day, whether I was coupled up or single. I loved making big plans with whatever guy I was seeing as much as I loved holing up with Ryan and watching romantic comedies and eating chocolates those years when we had both been single when that day arrived. There was something so enticing about a holiday that was all about love.

  After lunch, I gave up any pretense of teaching. I helped the kids make paper hearts to hang around the room, and then we set to work finishing up the decorating of their mailboxes. Once we had finished, I allowed them all to get out the treats and cards they had brought from home, feeling happy as I watched them eagerly deliver their goodies to friends. How could anyone hate this holiday?

  I was tired when I got home, but excited as well. I would be finally finding out what Chris had planned that night. He had only given me the most basic essentials over the phone the night before. “Pack for three days. Make sure you have warm things. And your swimsuit.”

  Emily was no more help. “Sorry, babe,” she had said when I cornered her for more info. “I’m sworn to secrecy.”

  I grumbled as I walked down the hallway to my room, wishing I had a better idea of what to pack. Warm stuff? My swimsuit? Where are we going?

  “One thing though,” Emily said, appearing in my doorway. “You should probably bring something nice for Saturday night.”

  “Nice?” I asked, turning to face her. She had a huge grin on her face, and I felt like I would go nuts wondering what she knew.

  “Yeah. Nice.”

  I threw up my arms. “What does that mean? A dress? Club wear?”

  “Here,” she said, coming into the room, her face still plastered with that knowing grin. “Let’s see…” She walked to my closet and started flicking through. “Probably not a dress, it will be too cold, but maybe your nicer jeans, and something cute on top. This sweater, maybe?… Oooh, you should borrow my boots!”

  “Your boots?” I asked. “The black ones?”

  “One sec,” she said, running back down the hallway to her room. She reappeared a minute later, holding a pair of tall black, leather boots. They were slouchy and soft to the touch, the most stylish thing that Em owned, and I had always loved them. “But these are your boots from Brooke,” I said, feeling touched.

  Em waved her hands as if to dismiss my objection. “So? I think they’ll be perfect. Now you just need to pick a sweater.”

  We rummaged through my closet until we decided on a long sweater dress in dusty pink. It was form fitting and high necked, with three-quarter length sleeves. “That will be perfect with those boots and your skinny jeans,” Emily said.

  “You sound pretty confident for a girl who calls fashion ‘the biggest waste of time ever invented by man.’ ”

  She laughed. “Yeah, well, you and Ryan have rubbed off on me a little. What are you gonna wear for jewelry?”

  With Emily’s help I had managed to finish my packing the night before. Chris had instructed me to come home right after work, so I hoped I wouldn’t be kept in suspense for too long. I loved surprises, but I was notoriously bad at waiting.

  Chris proved, once again, just how well he knew me. He was waiting in the living room when I got home, along with Emily and Elliot. They were all dressed in jeans and heavy winter coats.

  “You’re here!” Emily cried, looking as excited as I felt. “It’s about time!”

  “I came straight home,” I protested, moving to take off my coat, but they were all standing already, zipping up their coats.

  “We’re leaving now,” Chris said, smiling at my expression. “Come on, we have a ways to drive, and we want to get there before it gets too dark.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked, my excitement growing.

  “You’ll see,” he said, taking my elbow. “Your bag’s in the car. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  Three hours later, we were pulling into a long, snow-covered driveway. We had left the metro area behind hours ago, and for many miles had seen more trees than buildings. I had no idea where we were going, only that we were clearly now in the north woods of Michigan, but now it was starting to fit together.

  “Would this happen to have anything to do with Brooke?” I asked, turning to look at Emily in the back seat of Chris’s bronco. She shrugged innocently.

  “We thought it was high time for you to see her place,” Chris said, reaching over to take my hand as he made a final turn, Brooke’s inn appearing through the trees and the soft falling snow.

  “Wow,” I whispered, impressed.

  Brooke was a friend of Emily’s and Chris’s from their high school days in Alpena. They had stayed very close over the years, despite their physical distance. Back in the fall, Brooke had opened her very own inn on Hubbard Lake with her boyfriend and business partner, Paul. I had missed the grand opening and had been wishing to see the place ever since.

  “Isn’t it great?” Emily asked, clearly excited. The inn rose up in the darkness in front of us, lit from inside and casting a cozy glow over the snow around us. Moonlight glittered on the frozen lake behind the rambling, Victorian building, and twinkle lights flickered along the railings of the wraparound porch.

  “It’s beautiful,” I murmured, feeling excited. I couldn’t have asked for a more romantic setting for Valentine’s Day.

  “Just wait till you see inside,” Chris said, turning off the engine. “They did an amazing job with the renovations.”

  We climbed out of the car, Elliot pulling our bags from behind the back seat. As we trudged up the shoveled walkway, Chris put his arm around me. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said, kissing my hair. I felt a thrill of happiness. From what I had heard from Chris and Em, Brooke’s inn had been a massive hit since it opened in the fall. Booking rooms over a holiday weekend must have been done well in advance. Chris had gone to an awful lot of trouble to make me happy.

  “You’re here!”

  I looked up to see Brooke, framed in the doorway of the inn, as we alighted the steps to the front porch. We called out a noisy chorus of hellos, then we were in the entryway, Brooke hugging her best friend, Emily, tightly as we all shook snow from our coats and hair.

  “Welcome,” Brooke said happily, pulling me in for a hug before moving on to Chris. I took the chance to look around. Chris was right; it was amazing inside the inn. Hardwood floors gleamed from below our feet. Restored craftsman style woodwork was evident around windows and the stairway. Antique sconces added to the warm feeling, and I could hear a fire crackling from somewhere near by.

  “It looks even better in the winter,” Elliot said, looking around. Brooke laughed happily.

  “I won’t argue with you,” she said, straightening her black wrap-around dress. Brooke was generally very self-composed and confident, uncomfortable with overt displays of affection. I liked seeing her let her guard down a little, as she usually only did with Emily and Chris.

  “Hi, guys,” Paul said, appearing from the hallway. “I’m so glad you made it.”

  I looked at Paul and shook my head a little, smiling. I had only met him a few times, and I liked him, but he was far from the type I would have pictured someone like Brooke to end up with. Where she was sophisticated and stylish, he seemed more comfortable in worn jeans and T-shirts. He wore his sandy hair longish and seemed to have a permanent tan, even in the winter, from spending so much time outdoors. He was cute, though, I had to admit that. In a sexy, almost bad-boy kind of way.

  Paul reached out a flannel-clad arm to shake hands with Elliot and Chris, then hugged Emily. “Good to see you, Donovan,” he said, smiling at her almost flirtatiously. I knew he had
gone to school with Emily, Chris, and Brooke as well. The four of them had known each other for more than a decade. I felt the familiar twist of my stomach at the sight of them; it was hard not to feel like an outsider in the face of so much shared history. But then Brooke was slipping her arm through mine, rather uncharacteristically for her, and pulling me forward into the living room.

  “I can’t wait for you to see everything,” she said happily. I marveled at the change in her. Brooke was acting downright girly; I didn’t think I had ever seen her like this. I wondered if it was a consequence of her new relationship with Paul or the success of the inn, or maybe a combination of both. At any rate, she had lowered her head toward mine and was telling me, somewhat conspiratorially, that she had booked Chris and me in her best room.

  She led us through the lower level. There were several guests in the living room, clustered around the huge fireplace on comfortable-looking couches and chairs, reading, or talking softly. A uniformed young woman circulated with a tray of champagne. From there, we headed to the dining room, which was breathtaking with floor to ceiling windows revealing an unbelievable view of Hubbard Lake. It looked magical in the moonlight.

  “You should have seen this place before,” Brooke said, a smile of obvious pride on her face as we all stood before the windows. “It was a dump.”

  “You’ve done an amazing job,” I said, feeling awed. I sometimes found it hard to believe that Brooke was the same age as me. She was so driven, so successful. In addition to that, she was probably the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen. She literally turned heads wherever she went. I couldn’t blame the men and women who stared after her when she was in public; with her riot of long, black curls and ridiculously curvy body, she exuded sex appeal. Her attitude of not giving a crap what anyone thought of her only added to her appeal. To tell the truth, I was usually very intimidated by her, though I was trying my best lately not to be.