Tempting My Best Friend

3

Outside the front door was the restaurant’s namesake, a twisting, red-trunked arbutus tree. Arbutus trees were native to the west coast, and on my walks around town, maybe to grab a coffee or meet my friend Hannah at her bookstore, I often passed tourists posing for pictures in front of this one. It always made me smile. Arbutus trees weren’t the only thing that made Queen’s Cove unique. It was in the air here, air that flowed straight off the ocean and through our little town. It was the way everyone took care of each other, how the integrity of the town was fiercely guarded by the residents. No chains or franchises were allowed, only businesses run by locals. Was the town perfect? Hell, no. There were potholes in the roads, some of the sidewalks were crumbling, and windstorms often knocked over the towering fir trees, causing power outages. There was one road in and out of town, so any rockfalls or accidents on the highway had you stuck. If fog rolled into the harbour and the floatplanes couldn’t take off? You were stranded.

“Getting windy out there,” Max muttered to me as he moved around behind the bar, mixing drinks.

I leaned against the bar and watched outside as the waves crashed against the shore. Come on, weather, I pleaded in my head. Hold up for a couple more hours, just until we close. “Can I grab you anything?” I asked him, moving around behind the long wooden bar.

He glanced at the trays behind the counter. “Lemons, please.”

“You got it.”

Halfway down the hall to the storeroom, the lights started flickering. I stopped walking and sighed. The lights gave another halfhearted flicker before going out. Someone in the restaurant screamed, and I headed back to the main dining area.

“Alright, everyone,” I said in a calm, assuring voice. Max was busy lighting tea lights at the bar and placing them into lanterns, and the servers hustled them to the tables. “The wind probably knocked a tree over, and the power is out. Please stay seated while we light some candles and, in the meantime, enjoy the ambiance.”

I turned and bumped straight into the hard chest of Mr. Popular himself, Emmett Rhodes.

“Hi, Adams.” He c****d a grin down at me.

Irritation prickled at the back of my neck, and I pulled another lighter from beneath the bar. “I’m busy,” I told him without looking at him, focused on lighting candles beside Max.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his grin widen. “Need some help? I’m great in a crisis.”

I rolled my eyes. This guy’s ego knew no bounds. I was surprised he got it through the door tonight. I looked up at him with a professional smile. “This isn’t a crisis, it’s just a power outage. Please go back to your table and enjoy your meal.” I was very aware of Max standing beside me, placing candles into lanterns, listening.

Emmett leaned on the bar. “What are you doing tonight?” he asked.

I gave a laugh of disbelief. “Again? Seriously? I don’t come to your work and bother you while you’re working.”

He grinned wider. “Bother? I’m not bothering you. I’m too good-looking to be a bother.”

Deep breaths, I told myself. “Emmett.”

He put his hands up. “Okay, okay. Going back to my table.”

Emmett walked away, and my gaze followed his tall form.

The first day I met Emmett Rhodes, he had dumped a girl right in front of me with zero remorse. He had come to the restaurant for a quick meal and sat at the bar. A woman about my age had spotted him and slipped onto the stool beside him, leaning toward him and looking at him with such deep affection that when I saw the hesitant, wary expression on his face, my heart ached.

“Look, Heather,” he had told her. I had my back turned to them at the bar and couldn’t help but overhear. “You’re great, but I’m just not interested in this whole thing. We had fun, but let’s not make it more than it needs to be.”

She was quiet for a second. “What?”

“I’m just not that kind of guy,” he told her. “It’s better this way. I don’t do the wife and kids thing.”

He was one of those people who you could hear from the other side of town, always talking, laughing, saying hello to everyone within sight. Schmoozey, that was it. Whereas I had a small circle of close friends, this guy was friends with every single person in town. He knew everything about everyone. Every time I passed by him in the grocery store or on the street, he was making small talk about somebody’s business or asking how someone’s kid was. It struck me as insincere, like he had an agenda.

Beside me, Max cleared his throat, a little smile on his face.

“What?” I asked him with raised eyebrows.

He bit back a grin but said nothing while he slid tea lights into the lantern.

“Don’t start,” I warned.

“I didn’t say anything.” He lit another candle. “But you sure like to spar with him.”

My mouth fell open. “He started it. He always starts it.”