It’s funny. A little over twenty-four hours ago, when I returned to Patina Falls for the first time since leaving after my high school graduation, the place felt strange. The traffic moved too quickly, people spoke too slowly, and everything felt too condensed.

And now, I’ve already adjusted to its unique rhythms. And even though I can’t stop being surprised by how much some things have changed, the town feels familiar again, like home.

Now, there’s a thought that creeps me out. I don’t want to be comfortable in Patina Falls. I left it for a reason and I’ll be leaving it again.

I spent the better part of the day hanging out with Christian . Originally, we were supposed to work on the organ donation promotional campaign, but somehow it turned into catching up on old times. Since he works in the hospital, Christian stayed in touch with the people we went to school with, and even knew about the ones who’d left town, since he periodically ran into their parents. I had a good time listening to his stories and on a few occasions, even caught myself wishing I’d been around to experience some of the stuff firsthand.

But, as much as I enjoyed hanging out and catching up, I’d spent the entire time thinking about Lucy, wondering what she was doing, wishing she was sitting beside me.

Last night, I hadn’t been able to sleep, I was so busy thinking about her.

I don’t have any trouble finding the building that houses the caterers Suzie said she was using for the wedding. The place she promised I’d find Lucy, though she never did really explain why Lucy was there.

I parallel park in front of the building and wander in.

I push the door open into a wall of scent. Chicken, red meat, cookies, grease, flour, spices, and more, all rolled together into an exotic perfume. My stomach rumbles in response, reminding me that the only thing I’ve eaten today is a small bag of Fritos.

“Ryan.” Stephanie turns away from the table where she’s packing up her assortment of cosmetics and beams at me. “Right on time.”

I cross the distance between us in three long strides and wrap her in a warm hug. “Have you ever known me to miss a cue?” I drop a kiss on her forehead.

“Not once,” she confirms.

“Where is everybody?”

“Lindsay and Bea, the two women who are handling the catering for your other friend’s wedding, loaded everything up in their cute little van and headed to the hotel to set up.” Stephanie returns to her cosmetics, carefully placing each vial and box in a specific place. “And Lucy is in Lindsay’s office, changing into one of the dresses I brought. She’s supposed to lock up when we leave.”

“Did she like having you fuss over her?”

Stephanie wrinkles her nose. “The world is made up of two kinds of women. One group is like me: we wear makeup like armor, convinced that it has some sort of magical property that gives us super strength and makes us tougher than we really are. Lucy falls into the second group, which consists of people who don’t mind makeup, but who don’t need a shield when they’re facing the world.”

Okay. Interesting. I’ve been friends with Stephanie for several years, but this is the first time I’ve ever heard her assign psychological importance to the paints and powders she plasters on people’s faces.

“I promised her fun. I was hoping this would qualify.”

Sympathy crosses Stephanie’s expression. “Sorry, pal. I don’t think she hated it, but I doubt she’d classify my attentions as fun.”

“So.” I prop a hip against the table. “What do you think of her?”

Stephanie purses her lips and considers the question. “She seems nice. A little quiet. Kind of shy, but really sweet.” She closes her giant makeup box’s lid and latches it. “Not really the kind of girl I expected you to date.”

This surprises me. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just that in the past, the other women I’ve seen you with, they’ve been more like Jenna. Bold, flirty, super confident and a little on the reckless side. From the little I’ve seen of Lucy, she’s the exact opposite.”

Stephanie’s right, though I hadn’t really given it much thought until now. In the past I’ve always had a type, and Lucy doesn’t really fit into that mold, but …

“All of my past relationships fizzled almost as soon as they got rolling.” I run a hand through my hair. “So maybe those women weren’t actually right for me. Maybe things will work out with Lucy because she is so different.”

“There might be some truth to that. What does Margo think of her?”

I wince. “Margo isn’t very happy with me right now. According to her, a hometown girl might be okay for a fling, but that she isn’t what I need for a long-term relationship. She really doesn’t think things are going to work out.”

And since Margo knew the true status of my relationship with Lucy, she had a few very specific things to say about how this was going to impact my career and how the fans responded to me. She was one hundred percent positive that I should have picked one of the women that the fans already thought was perfect for me.

“Don’t get too worked up about what Margo thinks.” Stephanie pats my chest. “She’s divorcing what is it, husband number five? I say that based on her track record, she doesn’t have a lot of room to say what will and won’t work when it comes to relationships. Now, when it comes to your acting career, she’s a genius.”

“True.”

Stephanie hooks the long canvas strap attached to her makeup box over her shoulder and smiles up at me. “The only thing that matters is that you’re happy, and if you think that Lucy is the one who makes you happy, then I love her.”

Grinning, I cover the hand that still rests against my chest. “Thanks, Stephanie. You’re the best.”

The sharp shriek of unoiled hinges startles both of us. I look up in time to see a door on the opposite side of the room swing open. Lucy steps out. Her eyes widen when she spots us.

“Oh,” she squeaks. “Ryan, I didn’t know you were here.” Her eyes latch onto my hand over Stephanie’s and she rocks back a step. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll, um, I guess I’ll just leave the two of you alone.” She turns for the door, ready to make a hasty retreat.

“Lucy, wait.” I pull away from Stephanie, whose shoulders are already shaking with suppressed laughter, and hurry towards Lucy.

She stops, one hand resting on the door frame, spine ramrod straight.

“Luce.” I touch the top of her shoulder, urging her to turn around and face me. “You didn’t interrupt anything. Stephanie was just filling me in. I came by to pick you up. Now, let me get a good look at you.”

Lucy grimaces but turns and drops her arms, letting me get my first look at Stephanie’s handiwork.

“Wow!”

It’s the only word I can think of, and it really doesn’t feel descriptive enough. But I’m momentarily stunned into silence.

A sheer, knee-length pale blue dress and wide belt perfectly showcase Lucy’s body. Strappy white high-heeled sandals do wonderful things to the exposed part of her long legs and make her toes look incredibly sexy. A strand of seed pearls circles her throat and tiny diamonds sparkle in her ear lobes. Stephanie’s fifties-inspired makeup and hair style tie everything together.

“You’re smoking hot,” I tell her. I’ve never really given much thought to what women look like when they’re dressed up in vintage styles, but the way Lucy looks right now, I could easily develop a fetish.

Stephanie grins at Lucy. “I told you so.”

“Really?” Lucy wipes her palms down the front of her full skirt and bites her lower lip. “I don’t feel like me at all in this.”

“You look incredible in everything you wear.” I move in close enough to brush a light kiss across her forehead. She smells like peaches.

Lucy rolls her eyes. “Says the man who has seen me in exactly two outfits,” she mutters, keeping her voice low enough that Stephanie won’t overhear.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m talking about. You’re beautiful and sexy.” I crook my elbow, Cary Grant style, and offer it to her. “Now how ‘bout we blow this joint?”

She starts to move, but then hesitates. “I still don’t know what this is all about. Why go to the expense of flying Stephanie all the way out here and have me get dressed up all fancy?”

I frown and place a hand to my chest, feigning hurt. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Not completely.” Lucy’s voice drips honesty, though a small smile plays around the corners of her mouth.

Stephanie points at her watch. “If the two of you don’t get a move on, you’re going to be late. Lucy, let Ryan fill you in on the details in the car.”