Waiting On You (Blue Heron #3)

Waiting On You (Blue Heron #3) Page 41

But Colleen had been perfect. Pure in the sense that...well, hell, he didn’t know exactly, but that’s what it felt like.

You didn’t just turn your back on that.

“Where is my daughter?” Ronnie Petrosinsky asked. He looked furious, as if Paulie were a fifteen-year-old who’d just slipped off with a college senior. “Is she with that idiot friend of yours?”

“I’m not sure, Mr. Petrosinsky,” Colleen said. “But they’re both adults.”

“They’re not adults!” the man yelped. “That Bryce is a complete loser, and my daughter is a very innocent and protected person, Colleen! I am not a happy man! If Bryce is compromising her, he’s in for a world of hurt. You think the Chicken King becomes king without a lot of bloodshed?”

Colleen bit her lip, trying unsuccessfully to look contrite (and not laugh, Lucas thought). “No, no. I respect that, Mr. Petrosinsky. But the little chicks have to leave the nest sometime, right?”

“Wrong!”

“But I don’t think they’d do anything—”

At that moment, a door slammed and in came Paulie and Bryce.

Paulie’s sweater was on inside out, and her face was pink. Bryce, too, was sweaty, grinning ear to ear. “You’re about to get killed,” Lucas murmured.

“Dude! Having a good time?” Bryce said.

“Paulina! Where have you been? What have you been doing?” her father barked. “What did he do to you?”

“Hey, Dad. I was showing Bryce the gym.”

“She can bench-press my weight,” Bryce said. “I mean, she can literally bench-press me.”

“And you thought I’d drop you,” Paulie said, beaming.

“You were lifting weights?” Ronnie said.

“Yeah,” Paulie said. “Well, I was lifting Bryce.” Her face flushed, and she shot Bryce a little smile. Bryce returned it.

Well, well, well.

Colleen caught Lucas’s eye and lifted an eyebrow in an unmistakable “told you” expression. Had to hand it to her.

“Bryce,” Mr. Petrosinsky said. “You can leave now.”

“Dad!” Paulie said. “He’s my friend. Don’t kick him out.”

“Thanks, Paulie,” Bryce said with a warm smile. “You rock, girl!”

“Bryce, get out.” Ronnie turned to Paulie. “You. No more gallivanting with this joker. Understand?”

“Dad,” Paulie said, “I’m thirty-one years old.”

“Not with this goofball, you’re not.”

Lucas scrubbed a hand over his face to hide a smile.

Bryce looked confused. “Dude—”

Ronnie’s head snapped around to glare at Bryce. “I am not a dude. Do I look like a cowboy? Because I’m not. You are forbidden to see my daughter.” He turned to Paulie. “You want a husband? I’ll find you a husband. Dmitri’s been working for me for years.” He glanced at Bryce. “He’s in charge of slaughtering. You get my meaning, pal? Paulie, if you want to get married, Dmitri will marry you.”

“Whoa,” Bryce said. “No one’s talking marriage, Mr. P. It’s not like that.” He glanced at Paulie. “I have a girlfriend.”

Oh, shit. Lucas closed his eyes.

“What?” Colleen blurted. “No, you don’t.”

“Sure I do,” Bryce said. “That chick from the bridal store? The bride? She left her fiancé, and we’ve been dating. She’s totally hot.”

“Bryce...” Lucas sighed.

Poor Paulie. Her hands went over her mouth, then dropped. She turned stiffly and walked out of the room, but as she reached the stairs, she bolted, her face twisted with crying.

Damn it, Bryce, Lucas thought. Just once, it’d be nice if you could get it right.

“Uh-oh,” Bryce said. “Well, shit. I feel bad now.”

“Out,” Ronnie said.

Lucas turned to Colleen. “Happy?”

“Oh, bite me,” she said, gnawing on her thumbnail. “Don’t even start.”

He looked at her a minute. “I’ll call you.”

She glared at him. “Okay. If you don’t, beware. I’ll spit in your beer again.”

Again.

That was his girl.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“IT’S NOT YOUR fault,” Paulie said, tears leaking out of her eyes. “I never had a chance with him. At least we got to hang out a little, though.” She took a shuddering breath and reached for the Chicken King bucket. Rufus, who hated when people cried, gave a moan of sympathy (and chicken-lust) from where he lay with Paulie’s pug and two of her cats.

“Paulie, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” Colleen patted her friend’s calf. “I talked to Gwen, and apparently she fired him his second day.”

“It’s okay. Really.” She smiled, then choked a little, then resumed eating. Hey. comfort eating. No judgment from Colleen, that was for sure.

It was the day after the party; the Chicken King had banned Colleen from his princess’s room the night before, though Colleen had been up until 2:00 a.m. talking to her on the phone. This morning, Mr. Petrosinsky had barely let her in, and Colleen couldn’t blame him.

“You want a wing?” Paulie asked thickly. “It’s Haitian JooJoo Spice, deep fried twice for deliciousness.”

“No thanks.” It was nine o’clock in the morning. The chicken did smell good, though. Rufus agreed, licking his scruffy chops. He put his head on Paulie’s shin and gave her his best “they’re going to gas me in an hour” look. As usual, it worked; Paulie gave him a chunk of chicken, which he inhaled.

“Paulie...” Colleen paused. “Maybe Bryce isn’t good enough for you. Have you thought of that?”

Paulie took a tissue and blew her nose so loudly Rufus jumped. “No. I haven’t because he is. He’s funny and smart and nice and generous.”

“You sure? You’re not just hoping he’s all those things?” She winced as she said it, not wanting to disillusion Paulie. But Bryce had done what he always did—picked up some shallow, attractive woman for sex, rather than see that Paulie was worth ten of them.

“You should see him at the animal shelter, Colleen,” Paulie said, wiping her eyes. “He’s so dedicated! I mean, it’s a crap job, literally, and he doesn’t care! He talks to the dogs while he does it, says things like, ‘You deserve a nice clean place, don’t you, pal?’ And he’s gotten every single animal adopted since he started there. Even that smelly old Boxer with the hip dysplasia who bit everyone. Lorena Iskin took him, and the dog is like a new person.”

“No, he’s good at that. He got me Rufus, after all. But maybe—”

“His problem, Colleen, is that he doesn’t feel like he’s worth anything. When he was a kid, he always had Lucas around, being perfect. Then there’s his mother, basically telling him all he should do is live with her forever and be a mama’s boy. His father was always just the fun dad, never making him stay in college or get a job. That’s why he takes the easy way out. Because no one believes he can do the hard way.”

Wow. “Except you.”

“Yeah.” Her eyes filled again. “It’s not just those blue eyes.” She took another wing. “Though they don’t hurt the cause, either.”

Colleen took a deep breath. “You know what? I don’t think this bride person is going to last. Let it run its course, and we’ll—”

Paulie tossed the chicken bone in the bucket. “No. I’m done. I don’t want to keep embarrassing myself. I have some pride. He doesn’t want me.”

The words stabbed right through Colleen’s heart. “Paulie, don’t give up.”

“It was a good try,” she said with a sigh. “And I really appreciate your help.” Paulie looked at the bedspread (fuzzy yellow chicks with pink flowers in their beaks, utterly adorable). “So you and Lucas seem to have something going on.”

“We don’t have anything except a past,” Colleen said.

“That’s not how it looked to me.”

“Well, I’m about to be stupid and get my heart broken again, if it makes you feel any better.”

“Oh, please,” Paulie said, grabbing a piece of chicken rather violently. Rufus and Mrs. Tuggles looked at it with great hope. “Don’t be an idiot, Colleen. Do you know what I’d give to have someone come alive when he saw me? I mean, yeah, it would be so amazing if it was Bryce, but anyone! Anyone, Colleen! And you have this beautiful pirate of a man who looks at you like you’re na**d and covered in Krispy Kremes! So what if things didn’t work out the first time? So frigging what?”

Colleen closed her mouth. “Right,” she whispered.

Paulie gave her a hard shove. “Get out. Go rock that man’s world. You owe it to the rest of us who’d sell body parts for just one kiss from a guy like Lucas. Or Bryce. So just go and stop trying to protect yourself from a little heartbreak, because you know what? Just once, I’d love to be heartbroken because someone loved me and left me, instead of heartbroken because I never got on that train at all.”

COLLEEN’S THOUGHTS WERE muddled at work. She had the lunchtime shift today, and O’Rourke’s was mobbed with tourists and locals alike. Rafe was in the kitchen, singing opera, serenading her whenever she came in. She went through the motions, joking with her staff, ruffling the hair of children, asking out-of-towners which vineyards they’d visited, suggesting places to go if the forecast for rain held up.

Around two, when the crowds had left for the vineyards or sails on the lake or a nap, Colleen was wiping down the bar as the blender screeched, pulverizing more watermelon for the cocktail of the day (watermelon mojitos, terribly delicious). The only customers were a family of Swedes at a booth in the back, Victor Iskin, who came in every afternoon for a little mental health break from his wife, and Prudence and Carl Vanderbeek, who were pretending to be strangers meeting over a game of pool, despite the fact that they’d been married almost twenty-five years.

The door opened, and in came her father.

That was a rarity. He usually only came here to pick up Savannah, and then he texted from the parking lot.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hey. Is Connor here?”

“No. He’s at the farmer’s market.”

“Oh.” Dad stood there a second.

“Have a seat,” she said. “Want something to drink? A menu?”

“No, Colleen, I’m not here for food. I ate already.”

Yes, of course. He never did come in here, a fact that both relieved and irritated her. “Well, sit down. You’re making me nervous,” she said.

“I’m divorcing Gail.”

Shit.

The Swedish father came over and handed Colleen the bill. “Thank you so much,” he said.

“Bye!” the children chorused, beautiful little blonds all. The beautiful mother waved, as well.

“Bye, guys!” Colleen said. “Come again!”

She waited until they’d left, then turned to her father. “Wow.”

“Things have cooled off between us—”

“Dad, who cares? What about Savannah?”

He gave her a frosty look. “What about her?”

“Does she know? Is she handling it okay?”

“We haven’t told her yet. She’ll be fine.”

“She better be, I guess. God forbid her emotional state gets in your way. Do you have a younger mistress on the side?”

“Colleen, don’t make everything about you, okay? I waited till you and Connor were grown to divorce your mother. I think you’d be over it by now.” He paused. “I wanted you to know.”