Page 5 of Buck (Diver Downeast #2)

Bobbie hustled around, trying to ignore glimpses of Buck as he circulated with the dinner guests, but her brain wouldn’t give her a rest. She’d almost reflexively kept an eye on him as he’d mingled, as he’d procured a drink at the bar her team had set up, and as he’d laughed with his family.

It subsequently became even more impossible to disregard him when Ellen made the announcement for everyone to take their seats for dinner, and he’d grabbed a chair facing her cooking stations.

Yeah. He’d probably done that on purpose.

Not that a seat at the other end of the barn would have made too much of a difference.

Bobbie would have zeroed in on him, regardless.

The man stood out, even amongst his own brothers.

At least he did to her. She’d had no trouble following his silhouette from place to place, easily distinguishing him from his equally brickhouse-built sibs while they circulated.

There’d also been no mistaking him when he’d finally grabbed a spot to eat.

What did it say about the state of her mind that she couldn’t keep herself from locating him like some ill-conceived sonar? Was it because he stirred up old, poignant memories? Sensitive emotions?

That didn’t make sense. She’d sworn off him, in spades. The last time she’d seen him was when he’d almost single-handedly destroyed her future. What kind of person was she that her brain was trying to ignore that horrific, blaring fact?

A masochist, obviously. Which was almost laughable. Bobbie didn’t have a single self-flagellating bone in her body.

No. This anomaly simply had to be because she’d been blindsided at seeing him again.

Even though she’d tried to prepare herself for the eventuality of his presence at the wedding, the reality of him had derailed her train of thought.

All her hardened resolve had disgustingly flown out the window in an instant.

She had to admit, begrudgingly, that the man was annoyingly striking. Yup. He was downright compelling.

Suck it up .

She’d just have to deal with this stupid and unexpected magnetism.

Kind of like she did when she was at the movies and got hit with a nonsensical, superhero crush.

Lust might be leaping up to smack her between the eyes, but in all cases, stuffing it back in a box was prudent because nothing would ever come of it.

And right now, work called.

“Three more minutes on those lobsters,” Bobbie shouted over to Melo who was monitoring the crustaceans as they cooked.

Bobbie was currently using tongs to carefully lift corn-ears from the steamer she was manning, placing them into large bowls by the dozen that would be ferried to the various tables.

Devid was at the grill and she addressed him, too. “What’s your ETC on those steaks?” Estimated time of Completion was an acronym Bobbie used quite a bit.

He answered while she made sure the mashed potatoes weren’t sticking to the bottom of several large pans on her portable propane stove.

“The rare ones are already up,” he told her. “Two minutes on the medium rare, and five on the well-done.”

Perfect. Bobbie loved it when the timing of everything ran smoothly.

She looked around, purposely skipping over Buck.

People were clearly enjoying the steamed clams that had made it to their tables, and in five minutes her servers would be bringing around the bowls of corn, along with everyone’s individually prepared plate, which would keep all the guests engaged for the duration.

In the meantime, while her servers were busy attending to drinks, condiments, and other food requests, she and her kitchen-three would break down the cooking equipment and find a nice shadowed spot where they’d set up the ice cream stand.

Dessert was the point when, after the meal was complete, Bobbie normally rewarded herself.

She’d task herself to being one of the four “scoopers” who dished up frozen confections in order to eavesdrop on ambient conversations, which, if she were lucky, a lot of the time referenced the food she’d served.

What Bobbie surreptitiously heard during those clandestine and pointedly curious spying times, were predominantly compliments.

Of course there was an occasional, disgruntled attendee who would have a valid point to make about either the food or the service, and Bobbie always took those as much to heart as the kudos.

Tonight, however…

Did she want to help man the ice-cream station; subject herself to the possibility of having to converse with Buck again?

The man had displayed a certain amount of arrogance and frustration when letting her know he wasn’t going to absent himself from her sphere.

Would he back off at this public function; decide that avoidance was for the best?

Or would he approach and be… What? Combative? Cajoling?

That was a toss-up, which left her fretting over whether she should skip the ice-cream stand today, and simply help her workers with more clean-up.

Of course, milling about the tables would leave her more vulnerable if he decided to approach.

Cleaning, then packing up vans—including Buck’s—would leave her without any physical barriers between them. At least if she were ensconced behind the confection counter, she’d have twenty-four inches of butcherblock between her and her nemesis, should he become…insistent.

Ah, well. No need to borrow trouble right now.

She had food to plate.

An hour later, with everyone enjoying the last of their meals and small talk, Bobbie and her team were close to having their cooking stations broken down. Decision time was nearing. Did she chicken out and slink off in the first van they’d almost already filled, or did she suck it up and?—?

“Hi. I’m Everlee,” a pretty, dark-haired woman with long, straight locks approached and stuck her hand out in greeting.

Bobbie took it.

Right. Everlee .

“You’re Mason’s wife?” Bobbie always made it a point to learn the major players names once she took the gig.

“That’s correct.” The woman smiled. “I just had to say how awesome the food was, and how impressed I am. And in case you don’t realize the weight of that compliment, it’s saying a lot from someone who is used to Ellen Sothard’s cooking.”

How true.

They both enjoyed a companionable laugh.

“I totally get it,” Bobbie easily agreed. “And I take it as the highest compliment.”

Who wouldn’t ?

“But more to the point,” the woman continued, “how are you doing?”

Bobbie blinked. What, exactly, was Everlee asking?

“Umm, fine?” Bobbie didn’t know what else to say.

“Just to clarify,” Everlee stated with an unrepentant smile, lowering her voice for privacy. “I am a self-appointed busy-body, while also tasked with being the psychologist for my husband’s SWAT team.”

Bobbie still didn’t get it, but Everlee didn’t hesitate to explain.

“In that regard, I’m used to looking for people in my periphery who are experiencing…discomfort, and I happened to see that you currently fit the bill.”

“Uh, thank you. I guess,” Bobbie chuckled reflexively.

Dammit. She thought she’d been doing so well, disguising her uneasiness.

“Don’t worry,” Everlee assured her, getting even quieter as she responded with almost uncanny insight. “You’re doing a really good job hiding it. I don’t think anyone else will have noticed. Except perhaps…”

Did the woman’s eyes just slip to Buck?

Crap . Bobbie hoped not.

What, exactly, was this all about? Had the frustrating man put his sister-in-law up to something?

Again, as if reading her mind, Everlee continued.

“Buck hasn’t said one thing to me, so no worries in that department.

But Ellen filled me in on the…issues that you and my brother-in-law had fifteen years ago.

She also told me this is the first time you’ve seen each other since things blew up in a spectacular fashion.

I just wanted to offer my support, and a friendly ear in case you needed to talk about it. ”

Well, that was a first. Nobody ever wanted to revisit that time in her life. Her brothers, back in the day, had certainly shuffled it off quickly, and had even forbidden her to speak of it, post incident.

The friends she’d had in high school had all moved on with their lives; college, marriage, kids. Not one of her “besties” had stayed in the area, and when they did occasionally visit, the last thing anyone wanted to do was bring up why Bobbie was still stuck here.

Her employees—Melo in particular who’d become a good friend—were almost completely unaware of her past, and simply viewed her through their current lens as a successful entrepreneur, Which is how she wanted it.

And now, for someone, a stranger at that, to offer up an ear was…

Confusing.

How should she respond?

“Uh, thank you?” Bobbie managed. “I, umm… It was a really long time ago, and these days I just look at it as water under the bridge. Buck and I no longer have anything in common, and we really have no need to converse about things again. Ever. So…” Bobbie shrugged, and hoped her nonchalance looked believable.

Everlee inched closer so that no one could accidentally overhear their conversation.

“It’s okay,” she soothed. “I understand your reluctance. But I can’t help but see the way the two of you have been eyeing each other all night.

Whatever was once there between you, is clearly still simmering on the back burner—if you pardon the cooking metaphor.

And it’s not just anger that I detect, it’s also an underlying current of personal…

unresolvedness. What do you think? Do I have that right? ”

As much as Bobbie didn’t want to admit it, Everlee had hit the nail on the head.

Bobbie had never been able to equate the Buck she’d known with the things he’d done.

Could it possibly help the mental turmoil she’d been experiencing—especially since seeing Buck again—to acknowledge, out loud, the truth in Everlee’s assertion?