Waiting On You (Blue Heron #3)(90)

“You should see him at the animal shelter, Colleen,” Paulie said, wiping her eyes. “He’s so dedicated! I mean, it’s a crap job, literally, and he doesn’t care! He talks to the dogs while he does it, says things like, ‘You deserve a nice clean place, don’t you, pal?’ And he’s gotten every single animal adopted since he started there. Even that smelly old Boxer with the hip dysplasia who bit everyone. Lorena Iskin took him, and the dog is like a new person.”

“No, he’s good at that. He got me Rufus, after all. But maybe—”

“His problem, Colleen, is that he doesn’t feel like he’s worth anything. When he was a kid, he always had Lucas around, being perfect. Then there’s his mother, basically telling him all he should do is live with her forever and be a mama’s boy. His father was always just the fun dad, never making him stay in college or get a job. That’s why he takes the easy way out. Because no one believes he can do the hard way.”

Wow. “Except you.”

“Yeah.” Her eyes filled again. “It’s not just those blue eyes.” She took another wing. “Though they don’t hurt the cause, either.”

Colleen took a deep breath. “You know what? I don’t think this bride person is going to last. Let it run its course, and we’ll—”

Paulie tossed the chicken bone in the bucket. “No. I’m done. I don’t want to keep embarrassing myself. I have some pride. He doesn’t want me.”

The words stabbed right through Colleen’s heart. “Paulie, don’t give up.”

“It was a good try,” she said with a sigh. “And I really appreciate your help.” Paulie looked at the bedspread (fuzzy yellow chicks with pink flowers in their beaks, utterly adorable). “So you and Lucas seem to have something going on.”

“We don’t have anything except a past,” Colleen said.

“That’s not how it looked to me.”

“Well, I’m about to be stupid and get my heart broken again, if it makes you feel any better.”

“Oh, please,” Paulie said, grabbing a piece of chicken rather violently. Rufus and Mrs. Tuggles looked at it with great hope. “Don’t be an idiot, Colleen. Do you know what I’d give to have someone come alive when he saw me? I mean, yeah, it would be so amazing if it was Bryce, but anyone! Anyone, Colleen! And you have this beautiful pirate of a man who looks at you like you’re na**d and covered in Krispy Kremes! So what if things didn’t work out the first time? So frigging what?”

Colleen closed her mouth. “Right,” she whispered.

Paulie gave her a hard shove. “Get out. Go rock that man’s world. You owe it to the rest of us who’d sell body parts for just one kiss from a guy like Lucas. Or Bryce. So just go and stop trying to protect yourself from a little heartbreak, because you know what? Just once, I’d love to be heartbroken because someone loved me and left me, instead of heartbroken because I never got on that train at all.”

* * *

COLLEEN’S THOUGHTS WERE muddled at work. She had the lunchtime shift today, and O’Rourke’s was mobbed with tourists and locals alike. Rafe was in the kitchen, singing opera, serenading her whenever she came in. She went through the motions, joking with her staff, ruffling the hair of children, asking out-of-towners which vineyards they’d visited, suggesting places to go if the forecast for rain held up.

Around two, when the crowds had left for the vineyards or sails on the lake or a nap, Colleen was wiping down the bar as the blender screeched, pulverizing more watermelon for the cocktail of the day (watermelon mojitos, terribly delicious). The only customers were a family of Swedes at a booth in the back, Victor Iskin, who came in every afternoon for a little mental health break from his wife, and Prudence and Carl Vanderbeek, who were pretending to be strangers meeting over a game of pool, despite the fact that they’d been married almost twenty-five years.

The door opened, and in came her father.

That was a rarity. He usually only came here to pick up Savannah, and then he texted from the parking lot.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hey. Is Connor here?”

“No. He’s at the farmer’s market.”

“Oh.” Dad stood there a second.

“Have a seat,” she said. “Want something to drink? A menu?”

“No, Colleen, I’m not here for food. I ate already.”

Yes, of course. He never did come in here, a fact that both relieved and irritated her. “Well, sit down. You’re making me nervous,” she said.

“I’m divorcing Gail.”

Shit.

The Swedish father came over and handed Colleen the bill. “Thank you so much,” he said.

“Bye!” the children chorused, beautiful little blonds all. The beautiful mother waved, as well.

“Bye, guys!” Colleen said. “Come again!”

She waited until they’d left, then turned to her father. “Wow.”

“Things have cooled off between us—”

“Dad, who cares? What about Savannah?”

He gave her a frosty look. “What about her?”

“Does she know? Is she handling it okay?”

“We haven’t told her yet. She’ll be fine.”