All I've Waited For

about love, the woman had responded with the moment she’d known she wanted to marry Derek. She hadn’t said the L-word at all.
But marriage and love obviously went hand in hand. She was reading way too much into this. Of course Derek and Claire were in love.
Pressing her hand against her chest, Ashley cleared her throat. “Forget I said anything. I’ll take the binder and see what I can gather from it. But there are still a lot of things I’ll need you for.”
“Like what? How much time is it all going to take?”
Argh, this man. When had he become so difficult? This was his wedding, after all. “I’ll probably need you for a handful of appointments, like menu tasting with the caterer, final music selection, a walk-through of the venue, et cetera.” She clicked her pen, then stopped, remembering Derek’s reaction earlier—the warmth of his hand on hers, even for the briefest of moments. Ashley set the pen down. “I’ll help guide you, if you’d like. But I can’t make those final decisions for you. Well, I could, but I’m willing to bet Claire and I would make different decisions about nearly everything.”
“Why do you say that?” And there, for a second, she saw the old Derek peeking through from behind his eyes—curious about her life, interested in what she had to say. But before she could speak, he waved a hand in the air. “Never mind. Just text me the dates when you get the appointments set up, and I’ll make sure I’m available. We’ll do what we have to, to make this happen.”
Goodness, he made it sound like a business transaction. “I’ll make it as painless as possible, I promise.”
His frown said he wasn’t so sure.
“All right, I think we’re done for the day.” She closed the binder and stood.
“Great.” He followed suit and stuck his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts. “I guess I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Sounds good.” Picking up the binder, she turned, then paused. “Wait. Did Claire take the car?”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“So you need a ride home.”
“I’ll call my dad or stepmom. They can come get me. Or I can walk.”
“It’s like five miles to your house.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “And it’s already seven.”
“Not a huge deal.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous. You can’t walk all that way in the dark on that poorly lit two-lane road. That’s not safe at all. I’ll take you. We’ll just have to walk to my apartment first to pick up my car.”
Her stomach growled, and an idea popped into her head. No, she shouldn’t suggest it. But why not? Somewhere inside this uptight guy was her friend, and if things stayed like this between them, she was never going to be able to focus enough to put on a fabulous wedding. Maybe she could eventually get around to asking him why he’d never returned her calls. “Want to get dinner at the Frosted Cake and eat on the beach?”
His jaw slackened, and he looked away from her for a moment.
Ashley took a step closer. “For old times’ sake?” Ugh, her voice reeked of timid desperation. She should leave well enough alone, but she felt the need of it down to her toes. If she could just get him away from all this, maybe they could rediscover the friendship she’d once cherished more than almost anything in the world.
“Okay. For a bit.”
She had to keep herself from throwing her arms around his neck in a triumphant hug. This was a step in the right direction. No, it couldn’t be the same between them as it once was—not like it was from her perspective, anyway. But since love had been entirely one-sided, she’d just make sure to keep hers in check.
Ashley refused to embarrass herself with obvious unrequited emotions again. This time around, she’d conceal her feelings so well that no one in town would suspect them.
Then maybe she could finally move on from this pull he had on her.
After she tucked the binder and her other papers into the desk in her office, she led him out the front door and onto Main Street just as the streetlamps popped on. They maneuvered through the North Village, which was chock-full of adorable artisan storefronts like her Aunt Louise’s Oil Me This, Carlotta’s Clothing Boutique, and Fleur de Lee, the florist shop where Ashley liked to do all her wedding business. When Ashley was younger, a few blocks of the South Village had housed the majority of businesses in Walker Beach, but the downtown had expanded, stretching farther north in recent years.
“Wow, is that all damage from the earthquake?” Derek pointed at a few stores with boarded-up windows and crooked signs. Across the street, the old library building still sported a tarp over its roof.
“It hit the North Village particularly hard.” Ashley adjusted the strap of her purse. “Some of the houses up in the hills got it pretty bad as well. And Ben’s inn, though he’s been able to reopen since then.”
“Yeah, he mentioned that.” A pause. “His fiancée seems nice.” Finally, Derek’s voice held something other than rigid militarism.
They crossed into the part of town designated as the South Village. There wasn’t much foot traffic, but most shops had closed up for the night. A man and his daughter passed them on the sidewalk, forcing Derek to the side for just a second. As he skimmed past her, their arms brushed, sending a jolt to Ashley’s spine.
“She’s great. We’re good friends.” Ashley quickened her steps. “Did he tell you they’re getting married later this summer?”
“In all the ruckus the other night, I didn’t hear that. Let me guess. You’re planning their wedding too?”
“How did you know?” Ashley stuck her tongue out at him, grinning when her actions elicited the smallest of smirks.
“Because Ashley Baker can’t say no to save her life.”
“Maybe she just doesn’t want to.”
“Nah, I think it’s a compulsion.”
The truth of his comment stung, though she wasn’t