“I can see that. I meant, what’s up with the two of you?”
His face blanked. “Nothing.”
I couldn’t tell what his expression was hiding. I had known him all my life, but there were big chunks of his life I only knew through the island grapevine. Things a wife—his ex-wife—would know. History we didn’t share.
“You two looked pretty cozy when I came in,” I said.
I wasn’t insecure, exactly. (Okay, I was the teensiest bit insecure.) I was the one he was sleeping with. But he had loved her. He had married her. For two years—until me—there hadn’t been anybody else for him. I could see how Joe, a man who salvaged things and made them work, might want to repair their relationship. His loyalty was one of the reasons I loved…
Oh.
I was in love with him. The realization swelled inside me, extravagant, expansive, opening my eyes and my heart.
Images flashed through my mind like the slideshow at a wedding reception. Joe, showing up when I needed him, stepping in when I was young and stupid, stepping up when my father died. Wrapping me in his shirt and giving me the confidence to dream again. Joe, who saw beauty in discarded objects, who found a use for things that other people threw away.
Joe, who was currently glaring at me across the table, his bearded jaw squared with annoyance. “She sat down. We caught up.”
I was breathless. “Okay.”
“You’re mad.”
“I’m not mad. I’m…”Stunned.“Processing.”
I loved Joe Miller. Holy bleep. Not Gilbert Blythe, the swoony object of my girlish adoration. Not Chris, the real-life embodiment of a romance hero. Although maybe I hadneeded those other loves, those other dreams, to see the reality in front of my nose. Maybe it had always been Joe for me.
I dragged my brain back to the present. Tucked my phone away. “So, here we are.” I gestured broadly around us. “At the Mustang Lounge, where it all began.”
Joe arched one eyebrow. “Or ended.”
Right. Because I’d left for college three months later. I flushed.
Stay in the moment, I told myself.No living in the past, no projecting into the future.“No, yeah.” I took a deep breath, reaching for my earlier enthusiasm. “That’s sort of what I wanted to talk with you about. My big news. The school here on Mackinac is looking for a substitute teacher. I have an interview with Principal Olson next week, but according to Beverly Powell, I’m in. The interview is basically a formality.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” My grin bloomed inside me, spreading to my face. “I’m staying.”
I could see him turning the news over in his mind like a piece of wood, studying the shape and the weight, deciding what to make of it. I loved how deliberate he was, how careful, but…Heck, a little more enthusiasm would have been nice.
“And then what?” he asked.
A splinter of irritation worked under my skin. This was Joe, I reminded myself. Everything he built was solid and lasting. Of course he wanted everything buttoned up and nailed down.
“I’m not sure.” I’d only just figured out I was in love with him. I wasn’t pressing for a commitment, not after five weeks of sleeping together. “This isn’t a full-time, permanent position.Which could be a good thing. Mom can use the help at the shop, and I can use the extra time to focus on my writing. Anyway…” I blew out my breath. “I have a lot to figure out.”
“Sounds like it.”
The splinter twinged. It was obvious that for Joe, the heavens had not suddenly opened, bathing him in the sunlit glow of our love. But he didn’t need to rain on my parade. “Can’t you just be happy for me? For us?”
“I am happy.”
“Are you sure? Because you’re awfully quiet. If you have something to say, say it.”
“I’ve got plenty to say. I’m not sure you’re ready to hear it.”
“Try me,” I said brightly.
“You like to make plans.”
