The Road to Rose Bend, Naima Simone [jenna bush book club .TXT] 📗

her friends and maybe, just maybe, even her family.

She was finally home.

She hiked the picnic basket on her hip, practically floated up the front steps and pulled open one of the double doors at the top. She moved into the cool lobby, the scent of pine and lemon teasing her nose. The last time she’d been here, her one objective had been getting to Cole, and she hadn’t paid any attention to her surroundings. But now, she took in the gleaming, dark brown tiles flecked with gold and the crystal chandelier that shone brightly even in early afternoon. While the piece wouldn’t have been out of place in a ballroom, it had been donated by the family of one of the town’s founders many years ago. So it remained, lending elegance to the wood security desk, glass billboard case with notes and flyers about upcoming town events and closed office doors.

Though Cole’s office resided up the staircase on the second floor, Sydney headed toward the security desk. He hadn’t been at his law firm, and when she’d called his cell, it’d gone straight to voice mail. Taking a chance he was here, she’d brought her impromptu celebratory lunch to city hall, hoping to surprise him and convince him to eat with her. Her stomach did a flip and roll as she neared the security desk. Would he be happy to see her? Or irritated that she’d just shown up unannounced? Or indifferent?

Stop it. You’re celebrating, so don’t be a killjoy.

She mentally shook her head. Since she’d shared her book with him last week, that distance she’d been sensing between them had started to disappear. They were still as hot for each other as ever. That hadn’t changed. And it offered her a tentative hope that their physical connection would strengthen their emotional one. She rested a hand on her stomach, remembering his sweet caress days ago. Oh yes. She clutched onto that, too.

Did it make her pathetic that she clasped those...lifelines so tightly? Optimistic, pathetic. Sometimes she swore they were just two sides of the same coin.

“Good afternoon,” the older man greeted from behind the desk, his smile lifting up the ends of his bushy, gray mustache. “How can I help you?”

“Hi,” she replied, giving him her own smile back. “I wanted to see if Cole Dennison was in. I’m his wife.”

“I know who you are,” he said, winking. “I was at your reception. Shoot, the whole town was.” He chuckled. “I’m afraid you just missed him, though. Cole left for an appointment about fifteen minutes ago. Can I leave a message for him?” He glanced down at the picnic basket on her arm. “Like how he screwed the pooch by missing out on lunch with his pretty Mrs.? Of course, I don’t mind being a substitute.” He grinned, granting her an unobstructed view of his perfectly white, straight dentures.

She laughed, her disappointment momentarily capsized by his shameless flirting. “Oh, you’re good. Your wife must have a time with you.” She arched a brow, glancing down meaningfully at the gold ring on his left hand.

He scoffed. “We’ve been married forty years as of last month. Three children and eight grandkids. She knows better than to question me.” He leaned closer, humor glittering in his blue eyes. “Just don’t tell her I said that, okay? Forty years, three children and eight grandkids, and she still scares me.”

Sydney’s laughter echoed in the lobby, and she clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to contain the loud sound. The security guard, whose stitched name tag identified him as Bert, chuckled.

Once she had her amusement under control, she nodded. “Deal. I tell you what, though.” She set the basket on top of the security desk. “Since I won’t need this after all, enjoy yourself. And if you haven’t eaten lunch yet, maybe surprise your wife and earn some brownie points.”

Surprise and delight filled his gaze. “Well, that’s really sweet of you. I think I will.” He moved the basket behind the desk. “Thank you, Mrs. Dennison. Very much.”

“It’s Sydney. And you’re very welcome. Enjoy.”

“We will. And I’ll let Cole know you dropped by.”

“Thank you.” Waving goodbye, she crossed the lobby and stepped back out into the summer sunshine.

Well, that was that. At least she could make Bert and his wife happy. Her mouth quirked. Plan B then—dinner. Thoughts turning to what she would need to pick up at the grocery store, she started down the steps.

“Well, if it isn’t the new Mrs. Dennison,” a voice drawled from behind her.

Fuck.

Sydney mouthed the curse, grimacing. Sending up a short prayer for patience and quickly reminding herself that orange was most definitely not the new black, she pivoted to face Jenna Landon.

Sydney hadn’t seen Jenna since the first night of the motorcycle rally, and in a town the size of Rose Bend that had been a minor miracle. One she’d thanked God for. But now, facing the other woman—who appeared as flawless as always with her sleek auburn hair, slender frame in a body-hugging green dress and nude heels—her miracle had left town.

Forcing a polite smile to her face, Sydney refused to peep down at her own less...sophisticated form clad in a white maternity tank and one of her favorite long, floral skirts. In deference to the heat and her hormones, she’d gathered her hair into a bun at the top of her head. Yeah, Jenna looked like she’d come straight from the country club and Sydney could’ve been playing in the country.

Oh well. Her flip-flops were comfortable.

But as the other woman swept a condescending survey down Sydney’s body and a faint sneer curled the corner of her mouth, embarrassment and irritation surged hot and swift in Sydney’s chest. Screw her. Sydney’s chin notched up and she returned that sneer with an arched eyebrow. This wasn’t high school, even though Jenna hadn’t seemed to figure that out yet.

“Hello, Jenna. How’re you?” I could give negative fucks, but let’s just pretend that’s not true. Even uttering those words