The Summer of Us (Mission Cove #1) - Melanie Moreland Page 0,45
the thought of seeing Sunny?
Perhaps I had my answer.
13
Linc
Over the years, I had learned to read situations, hide any anxiety I was feeling, keep my face neutral, my hands dry, and nerves hidden. I could meet with the toughest crowd, the angriest individual, and remain cool.
Watching the two women I loved the most in the world meet was the most uncomfortable situation I’d ever gone through. I introduced them, shocked at the way my heart raced, the anxiety I heard in my voice—the way my hands grew damp with perspiration.
They sized each other up, their eyes wary, their handshake brief. Both stood, cool and unbending, waiting. It took me a moment to catch up and realize they were waiting for me to do something.
Except I had no clue what to do next.
Step back and let them at each other? I knew they both had something to say. Warnings from Abby to Sunny about hurting me. How well she knew me. What her expectations of Sunny were. Sunny would be filled with righteous indignation and inform Abby she had known me longer. That she and she alone held the key to my heart. She would admonish Abby and remind her my feelings for her were platonic and she needed to remember that.
I could sit down and watch them as the words were volleyed back and forth. Maybe snag a biscuit or two while they got it out of their systems. I really felt as if they could be friends if we could make it past the initial awkwardness.
Or should I play peace-keeper and insist they talk? Stay and point out their good points and how much each of them meant to me? Remind them of the one thing they did have in common?
Me.
My hands grew damper. What I really wanted was to walk out the door, hide for the day, and come back later and see who was still standing.
In the end, I went with what I knew best. Distraction and my stomach. I sat down at a table and slipped my hand into Sunny’s.
“I’m hungry, Sunny.”
She sighed. “Of course you are,” she said at the same moment Abby did. Then they chuckled. Sunny shocked me as she reached out and gave Abby a hug.
“Sit down and I’ll bring breakfast.”
Abby smiled—a real smile, not her fake one. “Let me help. I love to bake—I’ve never had a friend who owned a shop before. Maybe I could help one afternoon?”
Sunny grinned. “Free help is always welcome.”
I looked between them. A third option—the two most important women in my life acting as if they wanted to get to know each other and making the effort to do so. Hugs and all.
I liked that one.
“Still hungry,” I mumbled.
Sunny nudged Abby to the table. “Sit. I’ll be right back. You can help later.”
She disappeared through the door, and Abby glanced my way. “I like her.”
“I knew you would. You like to bake?”
She shrugged. “I dabble.”
“Huh.”
Sunny came back with a laden tray. I rose and took it from her, my mouth watering at the scent. Warm biscuits, flaky croissants, brioches, butter, jam, and coffee.
Manna from heaven.
It was a good thing I had food to occupy my mouth since from the moment Sunny sat beside Abby, I ceased to exist—for either of them.
The chatter was nonstop.
“I love your hair,” Sunny enthused, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder. “I can’t do anything cool with this horrid color. Pink or purple would clash.”
“I love the color of your hair,” I mumbled around a mouthful of biscuit. “It’s like the sunset.”
“Linc, stop talking with your mouth full,” Abby scolded me.
“Pink is my favorite color,” she told Sunny. “I love it.”
“I noticed. Your little truck is so cute. Love the sparkles.”
“It’s an SUV,” I offered to the air since no one seemed to hear my words.
“It’s great. I like sitting up high.”
“Short girl problems,” they said in unison, then chuckled and launched into a discussion about pant leg lengths.
I picked up my phone, deciding I might as well be productive.
Being invisible had one advantage. They were so busy talking about hair, baking, and other subjects I had zero opinions on, the food was fair game. I wolfed down most of the tray while I returned emails and checked messages. When I became aware of silence at the table, I lifted my gaze from the phone to find Abby and Sunny staring at me.
“What?”
“Really, Linc, you have to be on your cell phone while having breakfast?” Sunny asked, sounding displeased.