Whatever Love Means Page 4

  “The one what?”

  Would he stop with that annoying smile? This wasn’t funny in the least. Travis was being a royal prick right now. But she knew how to hit him where it hurt.

  “I finally found the man I was meant to be with. It took a while, but I found him.”

  Instead of shock or sadness, Travis chuckled and leaned against the doorframe, clapping his hands. “Congratulations. Little Buddy Garrett, the man of your dreams.”

  “Stop calling him little.”

  “The perfect guy. Shiny head, dreamy brown eyes, and a jacked-up Ford F-250.”

  “They’re gray.”

  “They say a guy who drives such a big truck is overcompensating for something.”

  “They say the same thing about a middle-aged white man with dreadlocks who still wears band T-shirts.”

  “Classic rock, baby.”

  “My God, will you ever grow up?” Maggie wheeled around and walked toward the bar. Why couldn’t they ever have a nice, simple conversation? Why did it always turn into a duel, each shooting insults at the other? Weariness came over her, and her knees felt as though they’d give out. She plopped onto a barstool and rested her chin in her hand.

  “When will you, is the question.” Travis eased between her and the next barstool and braced his hands against the rail.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Still looking for prince charming, like a little girl.”

  “I am not.”

  “Some stud—though I wouldn’t call Buddy a stud—who will sweep in and carry you away to his big shiny castle.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Husband number two had a motorcycle and a condo in Myrtle Beach, but he beat the shit out of you.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Husband number three inherited his daddy’s business, but he couldn’t keep his pecker in his pants.”

  “You’re disgusting.”

  “Husband number four has me stumped. What do you see in him? He doesn’t appear to have excess money or a big trust fund or even much in the looks department. He barely scrapes five foot two.”

  “Buddy is five-five, for your information.”

  Travis smiled—that annoying smirk—and sat on the barstool in front of her, pulling in so close their knees touched. He leaned over and brushed a loose strand behind her ear.

  “You think you have me all figured out, don’t you?” Maggie slapped his hand away from her face.

  “Don’t I?”

  “No, Travis, you don’t. I’m not looking for prince charming. I’m looking for someone to spend my life with. Who loves me and doesn’t run at the first sign of trouble.”

  “Is that right?”

  “You analyzed all but my first husband. What do you have to say about him?”

  “A hell of a guy.”

  “I wouldn’t know. He didn’t stick around long enough for me to find out.”

  Finally his cocky smile fell from his face. Maggie had given him the gut-punch she’d been going for, but it didn’t make her feel any better. She turned her focus to the beer taps. Yeah, Travis was a hell of a guy. He wasn’t lying about that. But he had a problem. When they were married and things got heated between them, when she was scared and homesick, he didn’t know how to handle it. Instead of sticking around, comforting his wife, and working through the issues, he bolted. At least prince charming stuck around.

  “You were the one who left me,” he muttered.

  “I had to. Are you saying you were the perfect husband?”

  “Far from perfect, but at least I . . .”

  “You what?”

  “Never mind.” He slapped his hand on the bar and stood up. “I better get that tank if you plan to open today.”

  He hurried from the bar, letting the front door slam behind him. Typical Travis. Bob and weave, then run when things got sticky.

  Chapter 4

  Maggie fell into the salon chair like the wind had been knocked out of her. With a morning like she’d had, it was a miracle she had the energy to drag herself to her afternoon hair appointment. Penny had come to the rescue and helped sop up the water, Travis had installed a new hot water tank as promised, and the bar had opened on time. She hadn’t finished the liquor order but felt sure their customers wouldn’t lack for any concoction over the weekend.

  “Hey, girl.” Holli lifted the black drape in the air and let it float around Maggie, snapping it behind her neck. “You ready for the big day?” Her long, red nails clicked against the comb as she pulled it through Maggie’s hair. “Riley was in earlier and she said everything is all set. The weather’s supposed to be perfect.”

  “Yeah, we got lucky.”

  Maggie studied her reflection in the big mirror and found a pair of bloodshot eyes staring back at her. She looked terrible—her face was pale and drawn, and her eyelids were still puffy from her crying jag. She was having a hard time following Holli’s incessant chatter.

  “So you want a few blond highlights and a trim before we play around with your up-do?”

  “Sure.” It would take more than a few bright strands in her hair to perk her up.

  “Unless you want to go a little crazy.”

  “What do you mean?” Maggie tore her focus from her rundown appearance and shifted it to the petite blonde fluffing her own pink-striped hair. Maggie hadn’t taken a good look at Holli until now.

  “Oh, you mean a different color?”

  “Sure, I could make a few of your highlights blue or purple to match your color scheme.”

  “I don’t think . . .”

  “Or I can add some lowlights to complement the blond highlights. It’ll brighten up your hair. What do you think?”

  “Okay, lowlights, whatever you think will look best.”

  “I’ll mix your colors and be right back.” Holli squeezed Maggie’s shoulder and strolled into a backroom.

  Lowlights and highlights sounded like what she needed. Maybe if her hair color was brighter, it would bring the rosiness back to her cheeks and make her glow the way a bride should. If only she had a couple of extra weeks until the wedding. She could get a massage, and take a few days off ahead of the ceremony. Then she would feel like the peppy bride she knew was buried deep under all this stress and exhaustion.

  “Well, there you are, honey. I thought I heard you.” Virginia McNamara’s perky voice startled Maggie out of her pity party. Everyone knew Virginia—she was the town matriarch. Her granddaughter Kate was an attorney, married to Brody, and one of Maggie’s best friends.

  Virginia shuffled toward her with a towel wrapped around her head, as her stylist, Daisy, followed close behind. Virginia leaned over Maggie and pressed their cheeks together. “Getting all gussied up for the wedding I bet.”

  “I’m getting some highlights and a trim, and then Holli is going to practice a few up-dos.”

  “Oh, honey, you’ll make a beautiful bride.”

  “Again.”

  “Pff, don’t worry about it. Those last two didn’t count.”

  “It’s a little embarrassing to have a big wedding on my fourth try, but Buddy has never been married and he really wanted this. I’d just as soon fly to Vegas.”

  “And get married by one of those Elvis impersonators?” Virginia chuckled as she maneuvered into the chair beside Maggie. Daisy pulled the towel from her head. “That feels good.” Virginia closed her eyes as Daisy combed through her wet gray hair. “No, honey, you did the right thing by having your wedding right here in Highland Springs, so all your family and friends can attend.”

  “I think so, too.”

  Virginia reached out and patted Maggie’s arm. “I’m real happy for you. I’ve met Buddy, and he seems like a real nice fellow. ”

  “He is.”

  “And Carly likes him?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” Carly was indifferent at best when it came to Buddy, but Maggie couldn’t blame her. She had exposed her daughter to two other st
epdads, and look how they turned out. “You know how teenagers are. Besides, she’s leaving for college in August.”

  “Travis told me. University of South Carolina isn’t it?”

  “Yes, she’s always wanted to go out of state.”

  Holli returned, dragging a cart behind her filled with two bowls of thick paste, foil sheets, and two brushes. She parted Maggie’s hair, twisting the strands, and securing the sections with a long, metal clip.

  “Travis isn’t happy about it,” Holli said as she tucked a piece of foil under a thin strand of hair at the crown of Maggie’s head.

  “I don’t think he minds,” Maggie said.

  “He told me he thinks it would be better if she went in state. Doesn’t make sense to pay all that extra money.”

  A sharp pain dug into Maggie’s chest. How the hell did Holli know how Travis felt about Carly going out of state?

  “When did he tell you that?”

  “Oh, just, you know . . .” Holli slapped the foil together, not making eye contact. “The other night at the community center barbecue. I, um, we, um, were talking.”

  “I didn’t see you there.”

  “I wasn’t there long.” Holli parted another strand and tugged hard enough to snap Maggie’s head back. Holli’s hands shook as she painted on more dye.

  “I don’t think he should’ve been talking to you about that. If he has a problem with Carly going out of state, he should tell me.”

  “He probably didn’t want to upset you.”

  “He likes nothing better than upsetting me.” Maggie was furious. Everyone knew that Holli was the biggest blabber mouth in town. She may be a talented hair stylist, but she couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. She had probably batted her fake eyelashes and shimmied up beside him, rendering Travis unable to control himself. “What else has he told you?”

  “Oh, not much. Like I said, I wasn’t there long.”

  “Have you two been spending time together?”

  “No, I mean—”

  “Ouch.” Holli’s pointy fingernail scraped Maggie’s scalp.

  “Sorry.”

  “Well, are you? Hanging out with Travis?”

  “No, not really. We just see each other around town, you know.”

  Maggie sagged deeper into the chair, keeping her gaze locked on Holli. The pace of her color application picked up, and her cheeks were deep red. Her usually neat layers of foil were askew. Holli was lying. There was something going on between her and Travis. How was that possible? She wasn’t his type. He kept his personal life private, but she knew without a doubt he wouldn’t go for a woman with bleached-blond and pink-striped hair, fake nails, fake lashes, and fake boobs. Maggie wasn’t sure about the boob part, but there had been rumors.

  He gravitated toward natural women who didn’t dress in too-tight clothing. Her eyes trailed down the length of Holli’s body, past her uplifted breasts, her super taut stomach, and her plump butt. Maggie laid her hand on her own flabby belly, thought of her flat ass, and sighed.

  Who was she kidding? Of course Travis would go for someone who looked like Holli.

  “Listen, honey, I’m sure Travis is just sad to see his little girl move so far away,” Virginia said as she reached out and found Maggie’s arm under the drape.

  “Virginia’s right.” Again Holli tugged too hard, bending Maggie’s neck backward. “He’s probably just worried about her.”

  “Don’t you worry about that now,” Virginia said. “Tell me about your wedding plans. Kate said Carly is going to be your maid of honor.”

  “She is and she’s wearing a beautiful dress.”

  “And the flowers?”

  “Riley is taking care of them.”

  “Surprising you, huh?”

  “She’s told me about them.” Maggie sighed, feeling drained. The anger from a moment ago had zapped all her energy.

  “And you’re marrying the man of your dreams.” Virginia squeezed her arm as Maggie’s eyes prickled. She blinked a few times, refusing to give into tears. “Well, I for one am real happy for the two of you. I can’t wait to dance with your new husband.”

  “He’ll like that.”

  “It’s real exciting, isn’t it, honey?”

  “Yeah, real exciting.”

  “Another beer, Travis?” He’d already had three, but what the hell. “Sure.” He took the cold bottle from Tucker and propped his ankle across his knee. It was the Byrne twins’ first birthday, and he was sitting on Darla and Jason’s patio as their identical boys sat in high chairs, side-by-side, stuffing cake in their mouths. All the adults hovered around the adorable babies, snapping pictures, and shouting encouragement.

  Travis had been deployed during Carly’s first birthday and missed the festivities. A few snapshots and a grainy video were sad substitutes for being there. He took a long draw on his beer as Liza, Tucker’s wife and Brody’s sister, plopped down in the chair beside him.

  “I’ve got to prop up my feet.” She rested her puffy feet on the glass coffee table and took a drink from her plastic cup.

  “What’re you drinking, little momma?”

  “Water.” She eyed Travis’s beer bottle like she’d been lost in the desert. “Man, what I wouldn’t give for a swig of your beer.”

  He held out the bottle, but she pushed it away. “Tucker would kill both of us if he caught me drinking your beer.”

  “A little beer now and then won’t hurt your baby.”

  “You’re probably right.” She rubbed the huge mound of her abdomen. “But I don’t want to hear it from Tucker. He’s obsessed about this baby being born healthy.”

  “I get it.”

  “He insists this child will have only breast milk and water, and eat only organic foods.”

  “Shit . . .” Travis slapped his hand on his knee. “You know what crap he’s put in his body over the years?”

  “Exactly. That’s why we’ve gone organic ever since I got pregnant.”

  “Well, you’ve only got two months to go. Let me be the first to buy you a beer once the baby’s here.”

  “You’ve got a deal.” Liza tapped her cup against Travis’s bottle, and they both took a drink. They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the birthday festivities. J.B., Kate and Brody’s little boy, ran in circles while dragging a balloon behind him. Carly sat with Meghan, Darla and Jason’s college-age daughter, on a garden swing, chatting about who knew what. Tucker stood nearby, getting baby advice from Brody and Jason. It was good to see his friends with young kids of their own. He’d missed a lot of Carly’s early years, so it was nice to be around little ones.

  “What do you think about the upcoming wedding?” Liza asked with a mischievous wink.

  “What wedding?”

  He knew damn well what wedding she was talking about. Why the hell did she have to bring that up?

  “Maggie and Buddy. Did you get your invite?”

  “Probably got lost in the mail. You going?”

  “Oh, heck yeah. You think I’d miss that?”

  “You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”

  “I lay money Buddy is the first to cry.”

  “Maggie’s not the sentimental type. You won’t see any tears from her.”

  Though he thought she’d been crying this morning when he found her ankle-deep in water. Leave it to something like a leaking water tank to bring the ice princess to tears. She certainly hadn’t cried all those years ago when she’d asked for a divorce.

  “I’m sorry.” Liza dropped her feet from the table and turned in her chair. “I shouldn’t say this. I mean, Maggie is my girl, but she’s making a huge mistake.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Buddy is so, so—”

  “Perfect?”

  “Wimpy. Whiny. A sycophant. I don’t trust him.”

  Travis chuckled as he scratched his head. “A sick-a-what?”

  “You know. One of those fawning ass-kissers. ‘Can I get you something, sweetheart? Le
t me carry that for you, dumpling. I’ll be happy to jump for you. Just say how high.’ Eww.”

  Travis laughed and rocked back in his chair. Damn, he loved Liza. She was honest to a fault.

  “Come on now, I’ve seen Tucker fall all over himself getting you stuff and carrying shit.”

  “Yeah, but there’s a difference. He doesn’t do it to win points or to impress anyone. There’s something about Buddy that gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

  “Well, that’s the kind of guy Maggie wants.”

  “I don’t think so. I think she’s just reacting to her dad’s sudden death. Dropping dead from a heart attack on Maggie’s birthday had to have affected her. Plus, Carly is leaving for college soon. She doesn’t want to be alone.”

  “A little armchair psychology, huh?”

  “I mean it. She’s lonely and scared and trying to fill a void.”

  “Nothing I can do about it.”

  “Untrue.” She dug her nails into his wrist. “You hold all the cards.”

  “Ha.” Travis jerked his arm out of her clutches and took a sip of his beer.

  “Seriously, everyone knows she’s still in love with you.”

  Beer spewed from Travis’s mouth, and he choked as he laughed. Maybe honesty wasn’t Liza’s strong suit. She did, however, have an active imagination.

  “I mean it.”

  “You didn’t hear us about ten hours ago. We had another one of our not-so-friendly go-rounds.”

  “When?”

  “This morning when I went over to the Brass Rail. She called me because the hot water tank had leaked overnight.”

  “See, see.” She scooted to the edge of her chair, her eyes as big as saucers. “Why does she always call you? Every time something goes wrong, you’re the first person she calls. Plotner Plumbing could’ve fixed the tank.”

  “But she’d have to pay them.”

  She slapped him on the shoulder and settled back into her chair. “You’re an idiot. You should charge her. The Brass Rail is a cash cow.”

  “I am an idiot. Can’t argue with that.”

  “She still loves you, and everyone knows you’re still in love with her.”

  “It’s a damn good thing I didn’t have beer in my mouth this time. It would’ve sprayed across the yard.”