Page 45 of Lime Tree Hill

Despite her supposed aversion to dresses, by the time Tayla helped CeCe get ready, she looked like a girl from a country musicvideo. All prettied up in a floaty floral dress and cowgirl boots, and with tiny rosebuds woven through her hair.

And the next time Tayla saw Mitch, he was manning the grill, drinking beer, and talking BS with half a dozen guys. When he glanced her way and offered a private smile, the flutters in her stomach didn’t surprise her. Not one bit.

20

BIRTHDAY BLUES

Mitchmentally braced himself as Prue strolled toward him. They’d spoken earlier, and his lack of interest surprised him. There was no longing, no lust, no regrets. She’d talked about her new boyfriend, Otis—who he’d known since they were kids—but Mitch hadn’t mentioned Tayla. At the end of their conversation, she’d wished him well, insisting there were no hard feelings and that he shouldn’t feel guilty. Not that he had anything to feel guilty about. Prue had instigated the breakup. He’d simply pulled the pin.

She stopped at his side. For a second, he thought she might kiss him, but she didn’t. “Are you all right?”

“Fine, why?”

Swaying a little, she took his arm and moved him away from the crowd around the fire pit, her breath thick with alcohol. “It’s just… I know I made a mistake, but I never expected you to run off and marry someone else on the rebound. To tell you the truth, I was devastated when I found out. I always assumed we’d get back together.”

“It’s been over six months, Prue. People move on.”

“Maybe, but you must admit, she’s hardly your type.”

Mitch knew she was trying to bait him, but after a few beers, he wasn’t as sharp as usual. “What makes you say that?”

“I dunno. I just never imagined you being interested in some nerdy girl-next-door type with a flat chest and designer threads. I’ll bet the sex is as boring as her overpriced outfit.”

Mitch remained silent for a moment. With Prue, verbal retaliation was never a good idea, especially when she’d been drinking. But self-respect and an overriding sense of protectiveness toward Tayla meant he wouldn’t stand by and say nothing.

“I’ll say this only once.” He stopped to clear his throat, his jaw tight with discomfort. “Tayla is my wife. I won’t allow you, or anyone else, to come between us, understand?”

“But—”

“And you can gossip and disrespect people as much as you like, but that kind of destructive behavior won’t do you any favors. My relationship with Tayla has nothing to do with you. We’re over, Prue. And to be frank, our days were numbered anyway.”

“How can you say that?”

Mitch took a swig of his beer. They’d been over the reasons way more times than he cared to count. “You can’t cheat in a long-term relationship and expect to carry on regardless. It’s a pity you let your secretive narcissistic side out of its cage because I’d hoped we might stay friends, but I’m done here.”

“How many times do I have to say I’m sorry? This isn’t who you are. You don’t cut people off because of one mistake. I still love you.”

Mitch frowned. He’d passed the point of offering a verbal comeback, so he turned and walked away.

The bench seat was slightly damp when Tayla sat at the table on the veranda. She stared up at the stars, clear and bright, and wished she was anywhere but here. Although Mitch had been far frominattentive, she still felt uncomfortable mixing with large groups of people, especially as the new sideshow in town. Mitchel Harrington’s wife. The woman he’d eloped with.The rebound.

Earlier, Mitch had joined her on the makeshift line dancing floor, standing behind her and guiding her with whispered words if she fell out of step. At one stage, he’d placed both hands on her hips, and that one touch had set her imagination on fire. He’d left the dance floor after the next song, but whenever she’d glanced his way, he was watching her, his smile soft and reassuring. And as he gave a speech after CeCe cut her cake, she’d felt proud on his behalf. He didn’t talk about his sisters much, but they obviously shared a strong bond.

His ex had turned up—an uninvited guest. CeCe had pointed her out to Tayla when she arrived. Tall and voluptuous, with flat-ironed hair that fell around her face in a silky mane, she’d make any women under five foot six feel like a pixie.

So, what had gone wrong between them? He’d never offered any details, and although it was none of her business, Tayla was still curious. And judging by the way people were staring at her, so were his friends.

Tayla checked her watch. It was almost midnight, and she could hardly keep her eyes open. But by the sound of the raucous laughter coming from inside, the party was still in full swing. She glanced over her shoulder as footsteps echoed toward her.

Without invitation, Prue pulled out a chair and plonked down opposite her. “Mind if I join you?”

Too late.Tayla offered her hand. “Tayla Whitman.”

Prue ignored the gesture. “Do you actually know who I am?”

“Yes. Prue, isn’t it?”

Nodding slowly, Prue held Tayla’s gaze. “By all accounts, I should hate your guts, but that’s not my style. So, you didn’t take his name. How does Mitchie feel about that? He’s such a traditionalist, my Mitchie.”

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