Well Matched (Well Met #3)(59)

“April, hey.”

“Daniel.” Daniel MacLean was the band’s manager and he traveled with them. I’d only met him a couple of times, but I liked him. He was a quiet, steady man, very organized and business oriented. Friendly without being effusive. He didn’t offer a hug or a handshake when he saw me; a friendly nod was enough for the both of us.

The same could not be said of his girlfriend.

As the set came to a close Daniel leaned toward me. “She’s at the merch table. I’ll send her over.” He threaded his way through the crowd while musicians onstage collected tips and chatted with the audience. I tried following Daniel’s progress, but he was quickly swallowed up by the crowd and the trees. As a result, the only warning I had was a high-pitched squeal before I was almost bowled over by a tackle-hug from a blond woman wearing voluminous skirts.

“Oh my God! April! What are you doing here?”

“Hi to you too, Stace.” I laughed as I steadied myself, hugging her back. “It’s been a while.”

“I was just home at Christmas.” Stacey adjusted her bodice as we broke apart, tugging at the chemise underneath it and making sure everything was covered. She was much more well-endowed than I was—Stacey was the kind of woman who could really fill out a corset. Between her outfit and her blond hair, curled and held back from her face, she was soft curves everywhere. A native of Willow Creek and one of Emily’s best friends, Stacey had run off last summer with the two loves of her life: the Renaissance Faire and Daniel MacLean.

I nodded. “That was seven months ago, that qualifies as a while.”

Stacey crinkled her nose at me and stuck out her tongue. “Whatever.” She took in my red T-shirt. “So you’re a volunteer now? Who talked you into that? Simon or Emily?”

“Maybe I just wanted to get involved in my community,” I said primly.

She studied me carefully for a moment, then burst into laughter. “Yeah, that’s not it. So are you done for the day? Want to get a drink?”

“Yes, and absolutely. And one of those funnel cake things before we go see the human chess match, what do you think?”

“Oh, that sounds perfect.” She waved at Daniel across the way. She pointed at me and then toward the path, and he waved us off. “Let’s go.” She took my arm and together we headed down the lane.

“So that seems to be going well.” I nodded back toward the Marlowe Stage and Stacey’s smile lit up her whole body.

“It really is.” She sighed and hugged my arm closer, and I patted her hand. I’d seen her at her worst, and Mitch and I had taken her to the Maryland Renaissance Festival last summer so she could make up with Daniel. It was good to see her so happy.

Shit. Mitch.

I’d done my best to not think about him lately, with varying degrees of success. I’d seen him briefly across the bar at Jackson’s when we’d all gone out for Emily’s birthday the weekend before, but we hadn’t spoken. Not talking to him felt more and more like a breakup, which was wrong since we’d never been together. Things had gone back to normal, to the way they’d been before that night he saved me from that annoying guy in the gray suit at Jackson’s. He was back to the bevy of women he rotated through, and I was back to my extensive vibrator collection.

See? Normal.

Normal kind of sucked.

“Are you all right, love?” We’d run into Emily on the way to the chess match, and concern creased her brow when my steps faltered on the path.

“Yeah,” I said. “Fine.” I was not fine. I’d caught sight of Mitch at the edge of the chess field. Kilt. Boots. Very long sword. Lots and lots of muscled, golden skin. It had become hard to breathe when faced with a sight like that. But I was stubborn. I was going to play this off. “Just tripped on . . . on a twig.”

Stacey nodded knowingly. “One does need to watch one’s step around here.” She’d slipped back into an accent that matched her ensemble, much like Emily. I was the only one in our little group dressed like a civilian, and next to these two my jeans and T-shirt was the outfit that stood out.

We reached the benches that ringed the chess match, and I got a good look at the field—a roped-off patch of land painted in alternating white and grass-colored squares. For all that Mitch had talked about rehearsing this year’s show that took place here, and for all that Emily had told me about what it was like to watch it, I’d never actually seen it in action, and while part of me was fascinated, the rest of me tried not to look at Mitch and wished I were anywhere but here.

Emily ran ahead to the chess field itself, and a man dressed in red and black, wearing a hat with a huge red feather, went to greet her. It took me a second to recognize Simon, and then only because I’d seen pictures of him in costume on social media and that one video on Mitch’s phone. Emily’s mind-mannered English teacher husband was transformed into a roguish pirate. It wasn’t just the outfit, though photos didn’t do justice to how good he looked in leather pants. His smile, the way he moved, everything about him was different. I watched him bow over Emily’s hand before drawing her in for a kiss and I couldn’t keep from smiling.

“God, those two.” Stacey blew a lock of hair off her forehead and led me to one of the benches toward the back, away from the tourist crowd. “Just obnoxious, don’t you think?” She’d dispensed with the accent; it was something that came and went with her. Must come with living this life on the road.