Close to You - Kristen Proby Page 0,30
be the Rose Garden to me.” Since I’ve finished my donut, he takes my hand back in his and tucks them both in the pocket of his jacket. It’s very chilly today. I can see our breath as we walk, but the sun is nice on my face, and our brisk pace helps. “What was your first concert?”
“Britney Spears.” I grin and break out in a really bad rendition of “Hit Me Baby One More Time,” which Landon joins me in, making me laugh so hard my stomach hurts.
“Wasn’t that for Addie’s birthday?”
“Yep, we were fourteen,” I reply with a nod. “We had a blast. Britney puts on a good show. She’s quite the dancer. What about you?”
“Metallica,” he says. “It was fucking awesome.”
“So you’re a metalhead? I didn’t know that about you.”
“Not really, but I love Metallica,” he replies. “I saw Springsteen, the Cure, Garth Brooks, and Madonna in that stadium.”
“I remember when you went to see Madonna! I was so mad. I wanted to go.”
“You did?”
“Of course I did. But you took Natasha What’s-her-name.” I scowl. “Bimbo.”
“Natasha was a bimbo,” he agrees with a nod. “And my seventeen-year-old self was elated.”
“Ew.”
“Don’t worry, babe. You’re the only bimbo I’m interested in now.”
“I’m so relieved,” I reply, and push him playfully. Our walk goes by fast, and before long we’re back in the car and headed to my house. When we pull up, I’m surprised to see Brian’s car in my driveway and the man himself walking down my steps.
“Hey!” he says as we approach. He glances at Landon, down at our linked hands, then back at me, and smiles widely. “I was just going to leave.”
“I’m glad we caught you,” I reply, and squeeze Landon’s hand. “What’s up?”
“I was wondering if I can borrow your KitchenAid mixer?”
I frown. “Why?”
“Stephanie wants to bake cookies this afternoon, but I don’t have a mixer.”
I unlock the door and step inside, then turn and stare at my former husband. “Who’s Stephanie?”
“A girl.” He rocks back on his heels. “That I met.” Shoves his hands in his pockets. “You know, on my own. Without your help.”
“Oh my gosh! That’s so great!” I hug him quickly, then walk back to the kitchen, the guys in tow. “I want to know all about her. Do I know her?”
“I doubt it.”
“How did you meet her?”
“Does she give you the third degree like this?” Brian asks Landon, who just laughs and shakes his head. “I met her in the grocery store.”
I stare at the tall blond man I know so well, and then a slow smile spreads over my face. “What aisle?”
“Why does that matter?”
“Humor me. What aisle?”
“I met her by the ice cream.”
“Did she have wine in her basket?”
The guys look at each other in confusion, and then Brian says, “I don’t remember.”
“Think. Really hard.”
I lean on the counter, waiting, and watch Landon’s eyes travel down to my chest. I glance down, and sure enough. Cleavage, front and center.
I send him a sassy wink. You’re welcome, handsome.
“Honestly, Cam, I wasn’t looking in her basket,” Brian says, and then chuckles. “That sounds dirty.”
“Ew.” I shudder. “I don’t want to know about the dirty stuff. Of course you can borrow my mixer.” I open the pantry and fetch the appliance.
“You remodeled,” Brian says.
“I painted, Landon did everything else.” I grin and hand Brian the mixer. “Have fun.”
“That’s the plan.” He winks. “Thanks. I’ll talk to you later. Good to see you, Landon.”
Landon nods, and he and I just look at each other as Brian leaves.
“You seem very excited for someone who just found out her ex is seeing someone.”
“Hell, yes, I am,” I reply, and wash my hands in the sink. “I’ve been trying to set him up for over a year.”
“Really.” He takes his coat off and hangs it on the back of a chair. “That’s . . . unusual.”
“I know. But it’s okay.” I turn to him. “Brian is a really great guy, and I want him to be with someone equally great.”
“So you’ve been trying to set him up.”
I nod. “I felt guilty.”
Landon takes my hand and leads me to the couch, sits, and snuggles me against him. “Why guilty?”
“Because I left him,” I reply softly. “The divorce was all me. He didn’t put up much of a fight, but he probably wouldn’t have asked for it. I left him alone, and that made me feel bad.”
“You were alone too,” he reminds me, and kisses my forehead.
“But that was my decision.” I drag my nails up