“Don’t remind me.”
“Someone has to. The bed-and-breakfast is part of the problem. Your problem.”
Nick let out a groan. “What does she see in them, anyway?” he asked, his gaze traveling to Biff and Todd.
Clearly it was time to knock sense into his brother’s thick head. “Let’s see—they’re young and good-looking,” Rafe said, trying not to gag on his own words. “And they’re hanging around Angel and making her feel good. Why wouldn’t she like the attention?”
Why wouldn’t Sara?
The thought jumped out at him, and Rafe’s insides curled with jealousy. The difference between himself and his brother, however, was that Rafe wouldn’t let two strangers poach his woman.
His woman.
Uh-oh.
Sex does not make a relationship, he reminded himself. Especially not in Sara’s mind.
But it did in his.
“They have no right to even look at her. She’s married,” Nick said, his anger palpable.
“She’s separated,” Rafe qualified. “And if you don’t fix things soon, she might just end up divorced and free to do whatever she wants with whomever she chooses.”
“And that would kill me,” Pirro said, joining the men.
“Where did you come from?” Rafe asked.
“I went back home to pick up more calzones for my Vivian.” He tipped his head toward the far end of the booth, where Vivian and Rafe’s mother were selling their Italian dishes along with individual jars of spices. “Vivian’s calzones are molto bene!” He kissed his fingers and raised them in the air. “No, not just very good—the best!”
Pirro was obviously dedicated to his wife, and still smitten, too.
Rafe thought back to his aunt’s claims and couldn’t imagine her husband finding comfort elsewhere. But he couldn’t talk to Pirro about it now. There were too many people around, and Nick still looked ready to blow a fuse.
“Now, what’s this nonsense about divorce?” Pirro asked, placing an arm around Nick’s shoulder. “My Angel is an independent woman, but there’s no reason why you two can’t work things out.”
“Right now he’s upset two of her guests are paying her a little too much attention,” Rafe explained.
“And she’s enjoying it too much,” Nick said.
Pirro nodded in understanding. “Ahh. Now I understand. Nick, you have to know how a woman’s mind works. When she’s not getting attention at home, she becomes starved for affection. Of course she’ll be flattered when other men look her way. Even if it’s really her husband’s attention that she’s looking for.”
Man, couldn’t Nick see what everyone was trying to tell him? “Step up before it’s too late,” Rafe said to his brother.
And there was no time like the present. “Nick, let’s go on over to Angel’s booth. I don’t know about you but I could go for some apple pie.”
NICK HATED IT when his brother was right. Things needed to change. Nick knew it. He just didn’t know how to make it happen. He headed over to Angel’s booth, determined not to argue with his wife and to take a step in the right direction for a change. He sure as hell wasn’t getting anywhere butting heads with her every time they were in the same vicinity.
The flow of traffic at Angel’s booth had faded, and the two women were sitting on stools, drinking lemonade and laughing. They presented a distinct contrast, Angel with her long, beautiful, jet-black hair and Sara with the blond halo flowing over her shoulders. The two women had obviously become friends in the short time Sara had been in town. Nick didn’t know a thing about her. He’d been so wrapped up in his own problems, he hadn’t taken the time to get to know his brother’s ex-partner or even find out why she was here. Though if the way Rafe looked at Sara was any indication, the reasons for her visit were extremely personal.
“How about some apple pie for two starving men?” Rafe asked, getting the women’s attention.
Sara met his gaze and greeted him with a wide smile.
Angel’s expression as she caught sight of Nick was much more wary. “Apple crumb or apple pie?” Angel asked politely.
Dammit, she knew which he preferred. She didn’t have to question him like he was an ordinary customer.
But he’d promised himself no picking an argument. “Pie,” Rafe and Nick answered at the same time.
Sara jumped up from her seat. “Two apple pies, coming up.” She walked over to the back, where the pies were stored.
Rafe immediately joined her, leaving Nick alone with Angel.
Nick shifted from foot to foot, unsure of where to begin. “Good day at the booth?” he finally asked.
She nodded. “Sold a lot of pies and booked B and B reservations into the fall.”
She just had to bring up the business. Testing him, he thought.
When he didn’t answer immediately, she locked her gaze on his and never flinched, waiting for a reply.
He was determined not to fail. He had to work through his problems with her owning the bed-and-breakfast and with them being unable to have a baby. Getting her to open up and talk to him would be an even bigger challenge.
“That’s great!” he said at last.
Her blue eyes grew wide and filled with hope. “Is it really?”
No. “Yes.” He hoped she didn’t notice he’d gritted his teeth. “Are you going to the dance tonight?” He changed the subject to one easier to deal with.
Angel’s shoulders and stance relaxed. “Actually, I am.”
His mood lightened. “So I’ll see you there,” he said, feeling upbeat for the first time in a long time. “And tomorrow night’s wine tasting?” he asked.
“That, too.”
In for a penny, he thought. “Save me a dance tonight?”
“Sure,” she said, but she sounded uncertain.
“Hey, we’ve just gone all of two minutes without fighting. I figured why not push our luck?”
She laughed, a free and easy sound he missed. “I’d like that.”
“Me, too.” A quiet moment passed with nothing but the sound of their breathing. No arguing, no bickering. It was time to get out before he put his foot in his mouth. “So, I’ll see you tonight?”
She blinked in obvious surprise. “What about your pie?”
He angled his head toward the back of the booth, where Rafe and Sara stood with their heads together, whispering and obviously lost in their own world, pie forgotten.