Chapter 9

Jordan spent more time debating what to wear to Tucker’s Tavern on a Thursday evening than she ever had prepping for a Saturday night out on the town in Manhattan.

For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out whether she wanted to fit in with the friendly people of Lucky Hollow or ensure that she didn’t.

In the end, her lack of options did her a favor. She’d need to find a way to get a few more of her things shipped to her, but until then she had only the handful of outfits she’d packed when she thought she’d be in Montana a day or two at most.

She settled on skinny jeans, an off-the-shoulder blue sweater, and the same black pumps she’d worn the first day.

Jordan used a curling iron to twirl her hair into its usual tossed style, added some depth to her blue eyes with a Chanel eye-shadow quad, and finished the whole thing off with a dash of tinted moisturizer, bronzer, and a swipe of neutral lip gloss.

Her rental home was an easy walk from the town’s main bar. Perhaps the only bar, although she hadn’t verified that.

As Tucker’s came into sight and the sound of Toby Keith hit her eardrums, she smiled. She’d never admit it to her friends back in New York, but she missed country music. Missed the down-home cheerfulness—the moody sad songs too.

Still, as she drew closer, she felt a little stab of regret that Simon wasn’t here. She understood, of course. The network needed Simon on site only if they were in actual negotiation talks with a potential candidate, and they were so far from that with Luke Elliott.

To that end, she also felt mildly guilty for not being entirely up front with her boss about the firmness of Luke’s refusal. She’d told Raven only that Luke was reluctant, and she’d received her boss’s usual take-no-prisoners response: Break him.

Raven was being hyperbolic—at least, Jordan was pretty sure. She had no intention of breaking Luke. Or even breaking her promise to stop asking him.

But if she was going to lose the top contender for Jilted’s starring role, she at least needed to be able to look her boss in the eye and say she’d done her best.

The producers who made it big around CBC were the ones who’d spent months in sub-Saharan Africa to get their reclusive poacher, the diehards who’d spent a full year on a navy submarine to determine whether or not there was enough material to warrant a reality show on life under the sea.

If Jordan wanted to make it as a TV producer, she couldn’t go running off because Luke Elliott was stubborn as hell.

Taking a deep breath, she hopped up the three steps to Tucker’s. It must have been a home at one point, because the worn-wood structure had a wraparound porch, with patio tables tucked against the wall, out of use until summer came around again. A few hanging flower baskets were clinging on for the remaining days before autumn settled in to stay.

She opened the door to a wall of sound and laughter. It was more crowded than she expected for seven on a Thursday, but there were a couple of spots at the bar. Jordan started that way, thinking she could nurse a glass of wine and scope out the scene to figure out who might have the inside track on what made Luke Elliott tick.

Maybe even see the man himself, if Vicky from the motel had been correct about his Thursday and Friday routine of stopping by the bar.

She was pulling out a tired-looking barstool when she heard her name.

Turning, Jordan saw Luke’s second almost-bride waving at her from a table.

Stacey grinned and called her over.

Jordan headed that way, pleased to see that there were a couple of other familiar faces at the table besides Stacey’s. There was Bree Henderson, the friendly hostess from the BBQ the other night, as well as pretty, feisty Hailey Withers.

The other two weren’t familiar—a willowy redhead, and a cute sandy-haired woman.

“Damn, Jordan, can you please stop making us look so dumpy?” Bree said, pulling a chair from the table behind them and shoving Hailey over to make room.

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude—”

Hailey reached up and tugged Jordan’s hand until she plopped down into the middle of small-town girl talk.

“You like sauvignon blanc?” Stacey asked, holding up a bottle of white. “You know what, you do now. Izzie, tell Benny we need another glass here.”

The redhead caught Jordan’s gaze and rolled her eyes, but she smiled and went to the bar, not bothering to ask “Benny,” instead just leaning forward until she could snag one of the clean glasses from the rack.

“So,” Bree said, as Stacey filled a wineglass and shoved it at Jordan. “Stacey was just telling us that you’re here to stay, and we’ve decided it’s fabulous.”

“Um—”

“Don’t mind her,” said the woman with smiling hazel eyes and adorable freckles. “Although, for the record, we totally think it’s fabulous. You’re even hotter than my brother let on, by the way.”

“Your brother?”

Hailey made the introductions. “Jordan Carpenter, meet Tawny Danvers, formerly Tawny Elliott.”

“Oh! You’re Luke’s sister.”

They looked alike, Jordan realized, especially the color and shape of the eyes. Although Tawny’s were a good deal friendlier than her guarded brother’s.

“And this is Isobel Keating,” Stacey was saying, pointing to the redhead. “Best friend since first grade.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jordan said.

Isobel smiled in acknowledgment. Her smile was friendly enough, if a bit more reserved than those of the rest of the women.

“So what did Luke say to you when he stopped by the rental house the other day?” Bree asked curiously.

Jordan laughed into her wine. It was sweeter than she usually liked, but she needed a little something to deal with the enthusiasm of this group. “Does everyone know everything?”

“Your rental’s right across from June Christiansen’s house. You think this town is nosy, she’s basically the mother of the gossip chain. She saw you and Luke, quote, set off serious sparks when you opened the door. Left about ten minutes later, looking pissed.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just his face,” Jordan muttered.

Everyone laughed, and Stacey pointed a mozzarella stick at her before taking an enormous bite. “I like you.”

“Even though I’m trying to drag your ex-fiancé into a reality show where all his dirty laundry will be aired?”

And yours?

“Well,” Stacey said thoughtfully, swiping at a string of cheese on her chin. “We’ve all talked about it. Decided it’ll be good for him.”

“He doesn’t agree.”

“Well, no, he wouldn’t,” Bree said. “He’s been on emotional lockdown ever since she left.”

Jordan sat up a little bit straighter, helped herself to an onion ring, and tried to play it cool. “She?”

“Eva,” Bree said, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

“Bride number three,” Tawny explained, her tone indicating she was no more fond of the mysterious Eva than was Hailey. “Total bitch.”

“Tawny!” Hailey scolded.

“She was going to be my sister-in-law, so I’m allowed to say that.”

“But he left her…right?” Jordan clarified.

“Yeah. Because she was a bitch, like I said,” Tawny muttered.

“We don’t know what happened there,” Hailey admitted. “Not like we did with the first two weddings.”

Jordan noticed that Stacey and Isobel exchanged a glance at this before both looking at the table, and she wondered if Stacey and Luke’s breakup wasn’t quite as amicable and simple as it seemed.

One bride at a time. She refocused on this Eva woman.

“What happened to her?”

Hailey shrugged. “Disappeared after Luke was a no-show. Nobody’s seen her since, but we’re assuming she went home.”

“She wasn’t from around here?”

Stacey shook her head and topped off glasses with what was left in the bottle. “Nope; from Texas. Passed through town on a road trip or something. Came into this bar, sat at that very stool.” Stacey pointed.

“She met Luke, and just…never left,” Tawny added, her tone making it clear that she did not love this fact. “Well, at least until he got smart and stopped things before I do.”

“And nobody knows what happened?”

They all shook their heads no. Even his sister.

“Is that why he’s so…”

“Closed off? Emotionally barren?” Bree said with a smile. “Yeah, he was different after that.”

Hailey nodded. “He’s always been a little quiet. Gruff more often than not, but he used to know how to be fun. He could be sweet.”

Stacey nodded. “She ruined him. Then with what happened with Gil, happening so soon after she left…”

The sadness at the table was palpable, so though Jordan had no idea who Gil was, she didn’t think it was her place to ask.

“Okay, enough sadness,” Hailey said, shaking her head. “Let’s help Jordan figure out how to get Luke to say yes.”

“So you guys do want him to do this?”

“Absolutely,” Tawny said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think the chance of him meeting his one true love is, um, nil. But the guy needs to be woken up in a big way, and it’s not going to happen when he’s hiding out here in Lucky Hollow.”

Jordan sat back and studied their eager, caring faces. “An odd stance for a small town. Aren’t you usually trying to figure out how to get your people to stay?”

“Spoken as a small-town girl who didn’t stay?” Bree asked, lifting her eyebrows.

Jordan laughed, realizing that Simon had been right. These people did seem to smell the small town on her.

“That was different,” she said, deciding there was no point in denying her past. “The big city called to me ever since I was a kid and thought I wanted to be a Broadway star, then a supermodel, then a CEO, and so on. I don’t get the impression Luke feels the same.”

“No, definitely not,” Tawny granted. “And we’re not saying that we don’t fully expect and want him to come back someday; it’s just…” She glanced around the table, looking for help.

“He’s broken,” Isobel said, speaking up for the first time. “Luke’s been just a little bit broken for the past couple years, and we’ve all been patient, but whatever’s going to fix him…it’s not here in Lucky Hollow.”

“Maybe not yet,” Stacey mused.

“Um, what?” Hailey asked her friend, stuffing an onion ring into her mouth.

“Whatever’s going to snap Luke out of his zombie state hasn’t been in Lucky Hollow yet,” Stacey said, leaning forward and lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

Bree mimicked her stance. “Explain.”

Stacey’s smile was slow and victorious. “Well, our boy just walked in, and the minute his eyes locked on the back of Jordan here? Let’s just say he looks the most alive I’ve seen him in years.”

The group of women spun around to get a look, but Jordan resisted the urge. Barely. She didn’t, however, manage to stop herself from asking Stacey for a bit more information.

“When you say he looks alive…”

Hailey patted her hand sympathetically. “She means that he looks ready to kill you, dear.”

“Or screw you,” Bree added thoughtfully into her wine.

“Yeah, that too.”