“And the women of Bliss River would be very upset if you did,” I say, with a smile.
Nash laughs beneath his breath before he leans in to whisper near my ear, “There’s only one woman in Bliss River who has my attention right now.” A beat later his lips brush lightly across mine, sending currents of awareness flowing from my mouth to every inch of my body, until I’m glowing.
Burning…
By the time he pulls away, I can barely remember how to breathe, let alone whip up a witty comeback. Thankfully, the waiter arrives with dessert a second later, granting me a reprieve, and a chance to pull myself together.
Pretend, it’s just pretend, I silently remind my buzzing cells.
But as Nash and I laugh over the mess Felicity is making of her cup of ice cream and I fight him for the last bite of our shared dessert, I’m struck all over again by how real it feels.
Even when dinner ends and we step out onto the sidewalk outside the restaurant—strapping Felicity into her stroller to take a walk past the busy restaurants and shops of Main Street—I can feel the warm glow that surrounded us at dinner still hovering in the air, making it seem okay to twine my arm through Nash’s as he pushes the stroller down the street.
I’m enjoying the excuse to be close to him so much that I don’t realize why Nash is stopping dead in the middle of the sidewalk until a strangled sound gurgles from the air in front of us. I look up to see Rachael Wertz standing a few feet away, wearing a gaudy tube dress a shade of fuchsia any self-respecting redhead should have the sense to stay away from and a stunned expression.
Her wide mouth hangs open and her big blue eyes are the size of silver dollars, but it’s the way her gaze flicks between Nash and me with increasing speed that gives me my first clue that Rachael Wertz is the Rachael, Nash’s Rachael.
Not anymore, I think, anticipation rising inside of me.
Oh yeah, this revenge is going to be sweet.
Even sweeter than I expected.
Chapter Sixteen
Aria
The thick, balding man beside Rachael waves a hand our way. “Hey there, Geary, imagine running into you again so soon. Small towns gonna stay small, ammi right?” he says while Rachael tugs at his arm, clearly wanting to make a run for it.
But her man ignores her, and I smile wider.
No easy out for the spider this time.
Rachael Wertz has been on my shit list since elementary school, when she broke my crayons in half because she was angry that I had more colors in my box than she did. In junior high she spread a rumor that I was a lesbian that backfired when our teacher, who was the sweetest woman ever, and not about to tolerate people being bullied for their gender or sexual orientation, sent her to the principal’s office.
We ran in different circles in high school, but that didn’t stop Rachael from telling everyone who would listen that I was a slut who had a dozen STDs, all because the guy she liked asked me to the Homecoming dance first, I said no, and she was pissed off about being his second choice.
Rachael is a nasty piece of work.
Always has been and probably always will be. And I’m going to enjoy the next few moments very, very much.
“Rachael, how are you?” I coo as I twine my arm tighter through Nash’s. “I haven’t seen you in so long.” I shift my attention to Rachael’s fiancé, not waiting for her to make the introductions before stretching out my left hand, making sure the ring on my finger catches the light from the shop windows. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Aria, Nash’s wife.”
Rachael lets out another strangled gurgle and I fight the urge to pump a fist in the air and yell, “In your face!” I’m not sixteen, for God’s sake, but my inner sixteen-year-old is probably enjoying this way too much.
“Lee Otter. Rachael and I are engaged,” Lee says, stepping in to give my hand a quick shake. His gaze flicks to Nash with raised brows. “Congrats on the wedding bells, man. You two are a ridiculously good-looking couple.”
Nash shoots him a hard grin. “Thanks. But this one’s got a lot more going for her than looks.” He wraps his arm around my waist. “I’m a lucky man.”
“And I’m a lucky girl,” I echo, tipping my head back to cast an adoring look his way.
The gleam in his eyes leaves no doubt he’s pleased with my performance.
And enjoying this as much as I am.
“And this is our daughter, Felicity,” he says, hugging me closer as he nods toward the stroller.
“Your daughter?” Rachael croaks.
Lee brings his hand to her back, but she stiffens and steps away, clearly not in the mood to take comfort in her fiancé’s touch.