Doing It Over (Most Likely To #1)(17)

“I can’t believe Jeff lost his hair already. He’s only twenty-eight.”

“It was gone at twenty-four,” Luke told Melanie.

“Bad genes,” Jo said.

Wyatt returned Melanie’s smile. “I didn’t know you were going to be here,” she said.

“It’s this or senior bingo night.”

There was a moment of pause before Wyatt noticed the locked expressions on Luke and Zoe’s faces. Hard, controlled, and full of emotion all at the same time.

“Hi, Luke.” Zoe had a smooth texture in her voice that softened the hard line of Luke’s jaw.

“You, ah . . . you look amazing.”

“And you still have your hair.”

Luke laughed. “Good genes.”

Zoe opened her hands and Luke engulfed her in a hug. Even from the side, it looked like neither of them knew how to act.

Luke offered her his chair while Wyatt pushed his toward Jo and Melanie. “I’ll see if I can find another one.”

Wyatt turned over a stool for Jo and joined the conversation.

“We haven’t met.” Zoe reached across the table. “I’m Zoe.”

“Sorry.” Jo took over. “Zoe Brown, Wyatt Gibson. Wyatt moved here about what . . . six years ago?”

“Five.”

Josie stopped at their table, swept an empty bottle away. “What can I get . . .” Josie stopped talking and squealed. “Mel? Zoe?”

The high-pitched girl noises had Wyatt and Luke pulling back. “Women!” Luke said.

Even Jo rolled her eyes.

“Good God, Zoe? I hardly recognized you. Hollywood must be agreeing with you.”

“Dallas, actually.”

Wyatt leaned over to Luke. “Hollywood?”

“She was on one of those chef reality shows years ago,” Luke whispered.

“Oh.”

Josie turned her attention to Melanie. “You haven’t changed one bit. What are you doing these days?”

Melanie blinked a few times. “Been busy.”

“I heard you were married to some lawyer or something.”

“Uhm . . .”

Jo wiggled into the conversation. “Mel has an adorable little girl. Looks just like her.”

Josie kept smiling. “Did your husband come with you?”

Zoe crowded in front of Melanie. “She dumped him years ago.”

Josie seemed lost. “I guess that’s a good thing then.”

“How about some drinks?” Wyatt asked when silence filled the table.

“I’ll have another one of these,” Luke said, waving his beer in the air. “Zoe? Rum and Coke?”

“Perfect,” Zoe said.

“What about you, Mel?”

“I’m driving everyone home. I’ll have a Sprite.”

Jo and Wyatt ordered two more longnecks before Josie sauntered off.

Melanie held her head in both hands. “That’s going to get old fast.”

“Let it roll, Mel.”

Melanie shook her head, Zoe patted her on the back, and Jo kept talking. “None of these people have lived the perfect life.”

Wyatt felt like a third wheel. “What needs to roll?”

Luke opened his mouth to talk, and Melanie cut him off. “I was supposed to be the one who left here and came back rich and powerful.”

Wyatt met Melanie’s eyes and saw the raw disappointment in them. This meant something to her . . . this censure from her peers of the past.

“The problem with class reunions is everyone judges the others on wealth and the size of their waists. Personal happiness and health never seem to be a part of the measurement. Are you happy, Melanie?” Jo asked.

Melanie glanced at Wyatt, the smile on her lips finally met her eyes, and his stomach twisted. “I’m working on it.”

Wyatt saluted her with his beer before taking a swig.





Bed-and-breakfasts didn’t often have a rush . . . but Miss Gina’s was the exception on the Wednesday before the high school reunion. It helped that the closest motel was a good ten miles outside of town, and a handful of RV parks rounded out the accommodations for visitors.

Melanie forced herself to smile in the face of her high school nemesis. “Hello, Margie.”

“My goodness, just look at you.” Margie Taylor stood beside her fiancé, her arm looped through his as if she were the prize. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

Melanie found her eyes traveling to Margie’s excessive cleavage. Cleavage that certainly hadn’t been there in high school. Cleavage Mel was used to seeing in the big cities of Southern California, but saline cleavage that didn’t exist in River Bend.

“We’ve all changed.” Melanie attempted to smile and look beyond the boobs. She suddenly felt like a member of the opposite sex. Who knew boobs had such radar.

“Jonathan, Melanie and I were on the cheer squad together.” Margie draped an arm over her fiancé’s shoulder, pressing her massive rack into his arm.

Jonathan had to be a good ten years older than Margie, the suit he wore wasn’t terribly expensive from what Mel could tell, but it wasn’t ill-fitting either. He was reasonably attractive with a strong jaw and completely disinterested eyes.