Chapter 14

TAMMY

It was the day of the cookout, and I stood in Macy's kitchen, wringing my hands. I had invited Mike to meet Macy and all of her friends. It had been such a comfortable situation last time we had grilled with Lindsey and Jason, I hoped to witness a repeat of the same chill vibe. I told myself that Mike would fit in.

"Relax." Macy took one look at me and guessed what I was up to. "If you like him, I'm sure we'll all like him."

"I don't know why I feel nervous," I admitted.

"Sure you do." She dismissed my anxiety. "He's meeting the closest thing you have to parents. And that's not to say I'm that old, just that we're your family."

I laughed. It was true. Macy and Dillon had become so close, they were more like my brother and sister now than my cousins. I needed them to like my new boyfriend. Could I even call him that? We hadn't had "the relationship talk." All I knew was that he was important to me, and it was important that my family like him.

Just then, we heard the sound of tires on the driveway. I went outside to see who had arrived so early. It was Mike, in his big pickup truck. I couldn't help myself; I jogged down the porch steps and flew into his arms as soon as he opened the door. He laughed and caught me up, planting a kiss firmly on my lips. Whatever was between us made it hard to be apart. My soul yearned for him, and the three days I had spent without him had been agony. I didn't care if he knew that I was head over heels. He would never hurt me; I had earned the right to be vulnerable, and I was going to follow my heart.

I pulled out of the embrace, licking my lips. "Good to see you."

"Good to see you too," he said. "I brought some beer and chips."

"Great." I held out my hands, offering to take them.

He gave me two bags of chips but kept the beer for himself. Typical man, carrying the heavier stuff. Dillon was already at the grill, cleaning it off and getting it prepped. I led Mike up the slope of the driveway to the side of the house.

"Dillon?" I interrupted.

Dillon turned, setting down his grilling implements.

"This is Mike. Mike, this is Dillon."

The two men shook hands.

"I brought some beer," Mike said, holding up the twelve-pack.

"We appreciate it." Dillon pointed to the cooler.

"I'll get it." I grabbed the cardboard beer box from Mike without giving him time to resist. In two hands, I carried it over to the cooler, opened the top, and began fitting individual cans in among the ice. Behind me, I could hear Dillon and Mike getting warmed up.

"Mike…?" Dillon asked.

"Newbury," Mike supplied.

"Sounds familiar," Dillon mused.

"My parents own the lumberyard. The only one in town."

"Oh yeah, that's it." Dillon nodded. "I've been there."

"Yeah, I think I've seen you." Mike smiled. "So, you lived here long?"

"Almost ten years." Dillon went back to scraping the grill.

"I love how isolated it is up here," Mike said.

I grabbed two beers out of the cooler and walked them back to my guys. Each one accepted the offer with a smile of thanks.

Dillon set the tool down again and popped the tab. "Yeah, you know when I first moved up here, all I wanted to do was get away. I had a bad experience in Nashville. My partner was killed."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Mike empathized.

I felt my jaw drop. I had never heard Dillon say so many words at one time, and something of so much emotional weight at the same time. I had no idea that his partner had been killed or that he'd moved to the cabin to get away from the world. In my mind, he was Macy's husband, a solid, if quiet, man who worked on the computer and took care of the kids. I didn't realize he had a whole other side to him. After just five minutes, he and Mike were talking like old friends.

Daisy and Nicky came bounding out of the house to find their dad. They stopped short when faced with a strange man. Mike turned and smiled, crouching so he could be at their eye level.

"This is Mike," Dillon said.

"Hi," Nicky said shyly.

"This is Nicky and Daisy," Dillon introduced his children.

"I thought Mary Ellen was here," Daisy said apologetically.

"They're coming," I promised.

"Can I show you the new toadstool we found?" Nicky thrust his hand into mine, pulling me away from the cabin toward the forest.

I cast a glance back at Mike to see if he minded. He smiled, genuinely at ease. And there was something else in his eyes—a satisfaction, like maybe I had just passed a test I didn't know I had been taking. He watched me go with the children until Dillon suggested that they go inside to get the meat.

I wanted to be there to reintroduce Mike to Macy, but I supposed they could handle that themselves. Instead, I put on my best "fun aunt" smile and appreciated the collection of mushrooms sprouting beyond the driveway. As we were discussing the dangers of eating said mushrooms, Jason and Lindsey pulled up in their truck.

The kids instantly abandoned me for the prospect of young Mary Ellen. I followed them back toward the house, smiling generally until Lindsey stepped out of the truck. She unbuckled Mary Ellen and set her on the ground, to the delight of Macy's kids.

"Hi," I welcomed my boss.

"Hi," she said.

Jason stepped out of the cab at the same moment as Mike and Dillon exited the cabin, plates of burgers and dogs in their hands.

"Mike, you already know Lindsey. This is Jason, Lindsey's husband." I stuck my nose into the crowd to introduce the guys. "Jason, this is Mike, my…"

"Date," Mike supplied easily, offering his hand to Jason.

"You work at the lumberyard, right?" Jason asked.

"That's right," Mike said.

"Grab a beer." Dillon indicated the cooler. He went to the grill, setting down his plate of raw meat. The rest of the guys naturally gravitated toward him, circling the grill. Jason grabbed a brew, and the three of them fell into an easy discussion of woodworking.

"Help me get the burger fixings from the truck," Lindsey said.

I followed her around the side of Jason's truck, and she loaded my arms with buns, grabbing a grocery bag full of ketchup, mustard, and pickles. We worked on arranging the picnic table, pausing when Macy came out to greet us. Lindsey made a move toward the beer cooler, but Macy grabbed her back. She put a finger to her lips, grabbed her best friend by the hand, and led us into the house.

In the kitchen, Macy opened the refrigerator and proudly produced a bottle of Kahlua. "We can make White Russian shakes."

"Oh my gosh!" Lindsey gasped. "I can't."

"Just one," Macy argued.

"Okay," Lindsey sighed.

"Tammy?" Macy asked.

"One," I agreed. My stomach wasn't used to something so decadent, so I knew one would keep me satisfied all night.

Macy sourced the ice cream from the freezer, spooned it into the blender, and added more Kahlua and vodka than she should have. We abandoned the men to cook and take care of the kids and had our own little party in the kitchen.

"Mike seems nice," Macy said, licking froth from her upper lip.

I giggled. "Dillon said more to him in five minutes than he's said to me in almost a month."

Macy blushed. "Dillon's a man of few words. I guess that's different when it comes to men."

"As soon as Jason learned Mike knew anything about wood, he was hooked," Lindsey said.

"Jason's into wood?" I asked, already starting to feel the buzz.

Lindsey nodded. "Woodworking. He's made chairs and end tables for us, and toys for our daughter."

"That's nice," I said. "I don't think Mike is a craftsman. I think it's just a job for him."

"You never know." Lindsey shrugged.

"Mike likes fishing," I said, memories of that recent trip bringing heat to my cheeks. "But I've never heard him talk about woodworking."

"We'd better do something useful," Macy decided, "or the guys will be done with the burgers before we're ready."

"How can I help?" Lindsey asked.

"I made a potato salad." Macy opened the fridge again.

"Oh!" Lindsey gasped. "I forgot. I brought a pasta salad. It's in the truck."

"Do you think we need a lettuce salad?" Macy mused.

"I'll make one," I offered, "just in case."

"And you can put some cookies on a tray," Macy told Lindsey, setting a plate and a package of cookies in front of her. "I'll supervise." She sipped her beverage with a wink.

I roughly chopped lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, and onions, making sure to stay well hydrated. By the time my drink was done, so was the salad. I was warm and tipsy, and my belly was already full of cream, so I doubted I was going to want a big dinner.

We had more than enough food for everyone. Lindsey, Macy, and I joined the guys outside, bringing our sides and desserts. Lindsey grabbed her pasta salad, and we distributed serving spoons, laying everything out on the table. Dillon and Mike brought over the meat, still sizzling on the tray.

We dug in, Macy and Dillon helping the kids with their choices. I had half a hot dog and some of each salad. When Mike asked why I wasn't hungry, I told him I had been snacking while I was in the kitchen. Lindsey and Macy giggled.

"I think the ladies were up to something," Mike told the table.

We adamantly shook our heads. Mike reached an arm around me and scooped me into his lap, tickling me until I shouted, "We had White Russians!"

The rest of the table watched with horrified fascination until Mike set me back on the bench. Then they began to laugh uproariously, even the kids who had no idea what we were talking about. We finished dinner and took several trips into the house with dirty dishes. I was on dish duty, scrubbing the plates and utensils. Dillon cleaned the grill, Macy put all the food away, and Lindsey helped the kids wash up and get ready for bed. They were going to put Mary Ellen down with Nicky and Daisy and just carry her home when it was time. Jason and Mike cleaned up the picnic area, and when we all converged again, the work was done.

Dillon made a fire in a small pit next to the picnic table. Macy spread out blankets, and we curled up on the ground, each woman with their dedicated lover. I checked my phone in a lull of conversation and noticed a missed call. Listening to the voicemail, I frowned.

Macy picked up on my discomfort from the opposite side of the fire pit. "What's wrong?"

"You know that cabin we looked at yesterday?" I asked. "They've rented it to the other person."

"I'm sorry," Macy commiserated.

"What cabin?" Mike shifted behind me so he could see my face.

"Oh, it was really nice. More of a house than a cabin. Nice and secluded. It had this great bar in the basement," I told him.

"Off Deer Tail Road?" he asked.

I nodded. "You know it?"

"I'm the other guy," he said.

"What?" I gasped.

Everyone around the fire sat up in shock.

"Oh my gosh." Macy grasped Dillon's hand.

"What are the odds?" Jason said, squeezing his wife tight.

"Stop." Lindsey swatted at him.

"What do you mean?" I asked, distracted.

"That's how Jason and I met." Lindsey leaned back against her beau, her eyes twinkling in the firelight.

"You each wanted the same cabin?" Mike asked.

"We became roommates, and the rest is history," Jason said.

I blushed. "We're not roommates."

"No," Mike agreed.

"You can have it," I said.

"No." Mike shook his head. "I'll call the guy back and tell him to give it to you."

"No," I insisted. "Congratulations, you were the better candidate."

"I don't think I was ‘better,'" he said awkwardly, "just first in line."

"This is not how I remember our arguments going," Lindsey murmured to her husband.

Jason kissed her ear, agreeing with a low growl.

I ignored them. "Don't call him back. Take it. You're ready to move out on your own. Macy and Dillon can put up with me for another week."

"Of course," Macy agreed, "more than another week. We love having you with us."

I smiled.

"You're sure?" Mike asked hesitantly.

"Yes, I'm sure. I know you've been wanting to get out of your place for a while." I said firmly. Then a flirtatious thought popped into my head, and I had to voice it. "But maybe you'll invite me down to the basement after you sign the lease."

His eyes lit up with a fire that made me sure he was thinking exactly what I was thinking. We probably weren't the first couple to have sex on a private bar. Everyone around the fire laughed, but no one called us out.

"Absolutely, I will invite you over," he said.

"Young love," Jason sighed.

"Wasn't that long ago," Dillon agreed.

"Hey, you two," Macy warned them.

"Just kidding." Dillon squeezed his wife tight, planting a rough kiss on her temple.

I closed my eyes, leaning against my date. The fire was blazing, and the friendship was strong. I wouldn't have traded this cozy moment for all the cozy rental cabins in the world.