Part 24 (2/2)

Melody Blues was one of her favorite local bands, and The Coffee House was a place that always seemed to expand her creativity. Normally, a night like this would leave her feeling she could paint the Sistine Chapel in an hour.

But tonight was different.

In fact, the last four times they'd gone out --whether here or dancing at Kaverns --she had left feeling empty and sad. As if something was missing from life, something she couldn't put into words. It wasn't Cole-although the fact that he had more fun spending a night with her parents than staying with her didn't help her feelings any.

It was deeper, far down inside her heart, as if she had a hole nothing could fill.

”You okay?” There was a break in the conversation, and Billie touched her elbow, her forehead wrinkled in concern. ”You don't seem like yourself tonight.”

Ashley shrugged. ”I just don't feel right.”

Anika leaned back in her chair, her head angled curiously. ”There's a flu going around.”

”No, it's not that.”

Understanding dawned on Anika's face. ”Paris?”

Ashley stirred her coffee and felt the sting of tears. Because of 212 Paris, she was sometimes seized by moments when she wanted to crawl into a hole in the bas.e.m.e.nt of her heart where no one could find her-not even these, her closest friends. But Paris wasn't the problem tonight. ”I don't know what it is.”

Melody Blues took a break, and Billie motioned to the other side of the coffee house. ”Want to browse?”

Half the building was a bookstore, an eclectic mix of new and used tomes-mostly offbeat fiction, artsy how-to books, and various New Age t.i.tles. Customers drifted from one side to the other, finding books, taking them to the cafe, poring over them while sipping coffee and listening to music late into the night. Book purchases could be made until the two o'clock closing time.

Ashley shook her head. ”You go ahead.” Her friends finished their drinks and pushed back from the table. Ashley knew they might spend an hour or more looking at books, but that was okay. She welcomed the time alone.

A couple decked out in a kind of nouveau-hippie look-tie-dyed s.h.i.+rts, flowing gla.s.s beads, and leather-fringed pants- walked past and flashed her the peace symbol. She returned the same and smiled. Her parents would be deeply concerned to know she spent as much time as she did here, and they would be aghast to know she brought Cole sometimes. They were so straight, so-she searched for a word and thought of a hippie- era one her friends liked to use.

Establishment.

That was it. Everything about her family was establishment. Especially their brand of religion-the kind of white-bread, narrow- minded, Bible-bound faith that Ashley had come to despise. She couldn't understand why Kari still bought into it.

Maybe that's what bothered her the most. The fact that her parents' faith seemed to have turned Kari into a robot.

When she and Kari were younger, Kari had been bigger than life to Ashley. Her older sister, beautiful and confident, dating easily the best-looking guy in all of Bloomington-at least that was how Ashley had seen Ryan Taylor back then.

213 When they were kids it all seemed so easy. They went to church and believed, and in return G.o.d took care of them and made sure everything worked out the way it was supposed to.

Paris had changed her thinking on that, and watching her sister give up any semblance of pride just to stick to some archaic rule about staying married no matter what.

Ashley stared at the melting whipped cream in her drink and swirled it slowly.

Could G.o.d really expect that kind of devotion? Even when Kari's husband was an unfaithful jerk?

Bells on the front door jangled, and Ashley looked up. As she did, her heart skipped a beat, and she had to set her cup down to keep from spilling its contents.

Landon Blake?

What in the world was he doing at an artsy cave like The Coffee House on a Sat.u.r.day night? And dressed in his firefighter's uniform, no less.

He didn't see her as he made his way between several tables to the take-out counter and ordered a drink.

Landon Blake ... Ashley's heart grew instantly softer. If Ryan Taylor was the best-looking guy in Bloomington, second place-without a doubt-belonged to the boy who had chased her since the first day of middle school. The boy who'd gone off to Texas to become a veterinarian-until he spent a semester of his junior year volunteering for the fire department.

Something must have happened that year, because he came home from college right afterward. He abandoned his dream of working with animals and instead joined the City of Bloomington Fire Department.

Other than that, little had changed about Landon.

He was still as gorgeous as ever, still a little too religious for her taste, still attending the big church across town and, according to everyone who knew him, still carrying a quiet torch for Ashley Baxter.

They'd been in the same Sunday school cla.s.s when they were kids, back when his family attended Clear Creek Community 214 Church. Every summer they had gone to the same camp on the same church bus and shared the same friends. All her life, in fact, everyone had expected her to marry Landon one day.

And all her life she'd been determined to prove them wrong. There had to be more to life than the predictability of spending a lifetime with someone like Landon.

Someone with whom she'd rarely have a surprising moment. The wildest thing he ever did was switch career goals halfway through college. Since then he'd been as predictable as winter. She could never be interested in Landon.

At least that's what she told her parents.

The truth was something she rarely admitted even to herself. The summer after his first year of college, Landon Blake had come home for two months, and Ashley had caught herself doing the very thing she'd promised never to do.

She was falling in love with him.

Just as her mother and father and everyone who knew them always thought she would, that summer she fell hard for the boy who'd always been there for her.

Ashley studied him now. Wasn't that the reason she'd gone to Paris in the first place, running scared from everything predictable and ordinary to a country where she could be someone no one knew? Wasn't that why she'd traded her safety and security for a chance to paint a masterpiece by starlight or stay up all night listening to the lap of a lake against foreign soil?

Still, the question remained.

If she'd been willing to work that hard to keep herself from falling for Landon, why now-years from those church-camp days-was her heart still moved by the sight of him?

She watched him order, watched the way the girl behind the counter blushed in his presence, and took in the fact that he had to be every bit of six feet four inches now. She saw it all as she waited for the inevitable.

He would see her. He always did.

Ever since their early teenage years, it hadn't mattered if they 215 were in church or a crowded cafeteria or at opposite sides of a local supermarket. If Landon Blake entered a place where Ashley Baxter was, he would find her.

Landon leaned against the counter and waited for the girl to fill his order. He slipped one hand casually into his pocket, and Ashley wondered if he bought coffee here often and whether he knew she was a regular. He turned and leaned against the counter, and almost immediately his eyes found hers.

Ashley hated the way her palms grew sweaty under his slow, easy smile. He made his way toward her, unrushed, moving with the grace of an athlete. His eyes held hers. When he reached her table, he sat down and looked at her for a long while before talking.

”Hi.” He still had the same dimples that had set him apart as a schoolboy.

”Landon.” She returned his smile. ”What brings you here?” ”Coffee.” He c.o.c.ked his head and, though his tone was light, he looked further into her eyes than she was comfortable with. ”Of course, if I'd known you were here, I would've come sooner.”

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