Читать книгу A Bayberry Cove Makeover - Cynthia Thomason, Cynthia Thomason - Страница 5

Bobbi leaned over Louise and peered at the two men walking through the manicured park at the charming center of Bayberry Cove. Old Mason, who’d vacated his personal bench in the park, had his cane in one hand and the other firmly clasped around the elbow of a younger man. They were heading directly for the Kettle.

“Who is that guy?” Vicki asked.

“And why haven’t we ever seen him before?” Louise said. “Do you know him, Bobbi Lee?”

“I don’t think so…”

She stopped midsentence and squinted. “Wait a minute. Is that…? No, it couldn’t be. He hasn’t been back in years.” But it was him. Bobbi recognized the sun-streaked brown hair, the self-assured walk and the athletic build of the teenage boy who’d been the target of her adolescent infatuation twenty years ago. “It’s a sin against nature for a fella to look that good after all this time.”

Louise chuckled. “I agree, sister. The town doesn’t know what it missed.”

“Why would he show up now, though?” Bobbi said. “He’s only made a few trips home to Bayberry Cove since his aunt Buttercup died.”

“Buttercup?” Louise said. “That’s Mason’s pet name for his deceased wife.”

“It is. Nobody around here even remembers her real name. We all just called her Buttercup.”

“Buttercup Cottage is named for her,” Vicki added, glancing at Louise. In two weeks, Louise would be living in Buttercup’s famous home as Mrs. Wes Fletcher, the wife of Mason’s grandson.

“So the guy with Mason is Buttercup’s nephew?” Louise asked.

“Great-nephew,” Bobbi Lee said. “He used to spend his summers here when he was a boy. I think he was twenty the last time I saw him. That was the year his aunt died.”

“That would make Mr. Gorgeous about forty now,” Vicki said.

Bobbi Lee nodded. “Four years older than me. There was a time those four years might as well have been a hundred for all the attention he paid me.”

“Do I detect the resurgence of a schoolgirl crush in your voice?” Louise asked. “If so, no one would blame you.”

“Hush up now,” Bobbi Lee warned. “They’re coming in!”

Bobbi almost wished she hadn’t spoken so sharply. Because when Zach Martingale came through the door with his great-uncle Mason, the diner went stone silent. The last impression Bobbi wanted to give Zach was that he was still handsome enough to suck the air out of a room.

He led his uncle to a booth, but stopped when he saw Bobbi Lee. “You’re right, Uncle Mason. She’s changed.”

I would hope so, Bobbi Lee thought. I work my tush off to get this hourglass figure, and I’ve paid plenty to maintain this hair. Twenty years ago I was a dishwater blonde and dumpy, and you never gave me a second look.

He turned to her. “Uncle Mason says you’re the best waitress the Kettle ever had,” he said. “I hope you’ll continue to work here once I take over.”