Page 27 of The Forever Christmas Tree

“Do you still love him?”

Wendy flinched, as if she’d been sucker punched, which she had been a few times during Hell Week, before she’d learned to duck and cover, or to give back as good as she got. She couldn’t be mad at Laura for her blunt question, though. That’s what friends did. Shared their innermost thoughts. And she sure as hell didn’t need to ask who Laura meant. Ethan, obviously.

“How could I? It’s been twelve years. He betrayed me in the worst way a man can to the woman he presumably loves.”

“He was a boy, and you were a girl,” Laura pointed out.

“A moot point. Ethan slept with another girl, got her pregnant when we were supposed to share some corny forever kind of love.” Despite herself, Wendy felt tears well in her eyes. That’s what being home, being here in Bell Cove did. That’s why she’d avoided it for twelve years.

“Yeah, he did, and he paid for it. He never loved Beth Anne. You know that. Eighteen-year-old boy, mad at his girlfriend for making other plans for the weekend, goes to a party, drinks a little beer, and succumbs to the temptation of a willing partner. It happened only once.” Laura held up a hand to halt the protest Wendy was about to make. “I’m not saying he wasn’t wrong. He screwed up. Big-time. But, Wendy, your breakup was a kick in the guts to not just the two of you, but the whole town. If you two, who practically glowed when you were around each other, couldn’t make it, then maybe there was no such thing as real love. Your refusal to come back here . . . it was like you broke up with the whole town, not just Ethan.”

“That’s a whole lot of guilt to lay on me. I was young, starry-eyed in love, and I was crushed.”

“I know, I know. And believe me, I’m not defending Ethan. The jerk! I’ve let him know what I think of him from the get-go. And, no, I’m not saying that you should have hung around and worked things out, like some folks said.”

“People said that?”

“Yeah, but don’t be too hard on them. I know it’s a town full of busybodies, but that’s what small towns are like. For good and bad. Good, because people really do care, and bad, because some are just plain snoopy. I’m of the first persuasion, and I’m just saying . . . is it really over?”

“Dead and buried,” Wendy said without hesitation.

“Well, speaking of the corpse . . .” Laura said.

Wendy turned to see Ethan walk into the restaurant. He hadn’t yet spotted her and Laura at the far end of the dining area but was headed toward Tony, who was speaking to some customers at a nearby table. A light blue dress shirt and tie were visible under his open, black cashmere overcoat, the blue of the shirt making the color of his eyes stand out even more against the framework of dark lashes. If he’d looked hot in a work jacket and jeans yesterday on the ferry, he looked hotter than hell in professional attire. And Wendy wasn’t the only woman in the room who noticed his sexy good looks.

“Hey, buddy, I just dropped Cassie off at a friend’s house for the afternoon,” she heard him say to Tony. “Want a lift to the forge for the meeting?”

Wendy arched a brow at Laura. “You didn’t mention that Ethan would be going to your meeting, too.”

“Oops.”

“Sure,” Tony said to Ethan. “Maybe Laura will want to ride with us.” He made a motion with his head toward their table.

Just then, Ethan noticed her, and before he could catch himself, he recoiled.

He recoiled!

But then, his lips parted, and his eyes—those beautiful summer-sky eyes—held hers for a long moment. And, for just that blip of a second, they were teenagers so much in love that it hurt.

Wendy might have made a low moan, out loud, or maybe it was a silent moan. She was too stunned to be sure.

Laura said, “I hate to tell you, Wendy, dear, but you are glowing.”

“That’s just blood rushing to my head.”

“Uh-huh.” Then, in a low voice, Laura began to sing the lyrics to that old Whitney Houston song, “I will always loooooove you . . .” It had been their song. It had been playing on his car radio the night that they first made love. It had been the kind of song that, no matter where they were, or how public the setting, when it came on, they stopped and looked at each other.

Wendy hated that song.

Laura had a really good voice, but at the moment Wendy could barely hear her for the loud pounding of her traitorous heart. Apparently, her feelings for Ethan weren’t as dead and buried as she’d thought they were.

Chapter 7

I’m sorry, so sorry . . . oh, hell, Brenda Lee said it much better than he ever could . . .

“Damn!” Ethan muttered. “Damn, damn, friggin’ damn!”

He had known that he would run into Wendy while she was in town, but still he was unprepared for the assault on his senses when he saw her in the Cracked Crab. Blindsided without armor.