Ginger's Heart (A Modern Fairytale, #3)(80)
She blinked, her eyes burning with sudden tears that she absolutely refused to allow to fall. “Well, you failed.”
Woodman raised his eyebrows, taken aback. “He’s my cousin. He grew up here. His father lives at your parents’ farm, Ginger. It never crossed your mind he’d come home someday?”
“You should have told me,” she repeated, grit in her tone.
“Why?” he asked softly. “Why does it matter so much if Cain comes home for a visit? You knew he’d come back for our wedding, Gin, right?”
She was clenching her teeth together so hard, she felt her nostrils flare. He’d never asked what had happened between her and Cain in the days leading up to his sudden departure. Never asked. Is that what he was doing now?
Well, it was too late.
She’d been a broken, confused, profoundly heartsick girl that evening on the porch when she’d offered her body to Woodman. He hadn’t asked any questions then. He didn’t deserve any answers now.
Grabbing the tray of potato salad from his arms, she lifted her chin and walked past him into the firehouse without looking back.
***
The following hour was an exercise in appearing normal and cheerful while her insides were in chaos and turmoil.
Woodman was giving her space, and Cain still hadn’t noticed her, though she watched him like a hawk as he moved around the picnic tables, shaking hands with former classmates and accepting pats on the back in thanks for his years of service. If he’d been handsome at twenty-one, he was devastating at twenty-four, a fact that made Ginger’s heart leap and her lips frown.
After leaving Woodman, she’d stood alone in the basement, tears pouring from her eyes in waves and sobs of shock and anger. Shock at suddenly seeing Cain and anger at Woodman for not warning her topped her maelstrom of emotions, but there were too many others to count: embarrassment over the last time she’d seen Cain—the way she’d poured out her heart to him and been soundly and viciously rejected, regret that she’d ever believed he could want her, guilt that she’d kept the facts of that day from Woodman, shame that she’d slept with Woodman when she’d been in love with his cousin at the time.
Something inside her had died that day at the old barn. Her childhood. Her wishfulness. Her sass. All gone. She became a woman that fateful day not just because she gave her virginity away but because she gave up on the dearest dreams of her heart. And now? With Cain swaggering around the BBQ without a care in the world like a returning war hero? All that old pain had surfaced.
Ginger globbed a spoonful of mashed potatoes on another plate, backhanding her brow. She’d chosen not to make herself a plate and sit down. Instead, she was working in the food area, making up plates with potatoes and corn on the cob that other auxiliary members took over to the BBQ grills and pit before serving the members and guests. She preferred to work. And to stay hidden.
“Hey, Ginger,” said Jenny Whitley, the girlfriend of a young fireman, “I’m grabbin’ drinks for all y’all workin’ back here. You want anything’?”
Ginger looked up at Jenny and saw Cain’s profile just beyond her. He was talking to Woodman and two other firefighters, and whatever he said was making them laugh like crazy.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll take a beer.” Woodman slapped his cousin on the back, and Ginger’s eyes narrowed. “In fact, make it two.”
***
Thirty minutes later those two beers had shot through Ginger’s system like white lightning and she needed to go to the bathroom. Because she wasn’t a regular drinker, she noticed that she was, ahem, tipsy as soon as she started moving. Aware of every step she took, she walked carefully toward the firehouse to use the ladies’ room, turning back to the festivities just in time to see Cain throw his head back with laughter at something Mary-Louise Hayes had shared with a group of men that included Scott and Woodman.
Nobody seemed to recall that Cain had been a hellion and troublemaker. Nobody seemed to care. He was the highlight of the BBQ, and part of Ginger was really pissed about that. He’d made her suffer. Part of her wanted him to be as unwelcome to everyone else as he was to her.
“Ugh!” she muttered. “I hate him!”
Swinging open the door, she stepped into the lobby and beelined for the ladies’ room. After relieving herself, she took a moment to wash her hands and blot her sweaty face.
“Lord, I’m hungry,” she said to her reflection as her stomach growled loudly.
In the mirror her eyes were dark and deep, fizzing with an energy that she could feel in her fingertips, buzzing in her lips, rolling in her gut, and making her heart race. Beer, she thought, suddenly remembering the time she’d stopped off at Gran’s after drinking the bridal shower punch. Was she drunk? Shoot.
“Get a plate of food and a bottle of water. And when you’re finished eating, go home. That’s the plan.”
It would have been a good plan, too, if Cain hadn’t been standing just outside the ladies’ room door waiting for her.
As it was, she didn’t expect anyone to be standing just outside the restroom, so she plowed into his chest when she exited. Suddenly engulfed in his familiar smell, an ache started in her heart that hurt so much, her breath caught.
“Cain,” she sighed, her voice almost a purr.
“Ginger,” he said in a much less besotted tone, steadying her by putting his hands on her upper arms.