"Nope. Not on this one. It's clear as day."
"That doesn't make any sense. We'refriends."
"That's halfway there, isn't it?"
I shake my head. "It's not like that. Courtland is brilliant and talented. His hard work, his dedication, all the sacrifices he's made in pursuit of his career. He belongs to the world. Not to me. Not here in Clovelly."
Howie unclips his seat belt and glares at me for a beat. "Court may be all those things, but you're not nothing, man. You're brilliant and talented in your own ways." When I roll my eyes, he continues, "I bet the Carters thought you were pretty damn brilliant when you put out their chimney fire. Or Hank at the gas station when you and the guys arrived after the fuel pump exploded last year. Or that couple you rescued from their burning car after that massive collision on Route 202. They'd all vouch for your brilliance and talents."
"But I'm a small-town guy," I explain, since he's missing my point. "Court isn't."
"For the next six months he is."
"Right. And after that? Then what? He'll go back to Boston. Or he might do some more international work. Who knows? Bottom line, he won't be here."
Howie gives me a crooked grin. "Depends on how well you put out."
I hop out of the car, shaking my head. We may be twins, but I swear half the time I don't know how Howie comes up with stuff.
There's no way Court is in love with me.
No. Way.
14
Courtland
Well, this is awkward.
Buzz and Howie have just taken off, leaving me with the other guy.
"Uh, so… I guess I should get going," I say, flapping my hand in the general direction of the street.
"Wait. Can I talk to you about something?"
I groan internally. "Sure. What's up?"
"It's about Buzz."
"What about him?"
Zane lets out a breath that fogs in the cold air and rubs his gloved hands together. "Can we… Can I buy you a coffee? It's more of an inside conversation."
I rack my brain to come up with a possible excuse for why I can't stay, but the only things I have on my schedule for the day are returning to the inn to annoy Manuel some more and hanging out with Lola in the kitchen…scheming up more ways to annoy Manuel together. Since verbalizing any of that might make me sound like a child, I offer a resigned, "Sure," and head back into the diner with him.
We grab a table by the window, mugs in hand. I take a sip. "So, what did you want to talk about?"
"Well…" He sweeps his long hair into a ponytail then warms his hands against the sides of the white mug. "I know we don't know each other that well, which makes this a little uncomfortable…"
Great. Not just any conversation, anuncomfortableone. Where's a practice evacuation drill when you need one?
"And also the timing is kinda weird, what with this being your wedding day and all."
"Buzz did tell you why we're doing this, didn't he?"
"Yeah, he filled me in."
When? What time? What was he wearing?
