Page 22 of The Perfect Distraction

The waitress reappeared with their drinks and took their food orders before disappearing again. After taking a long sip of her ice-cold margarita, Beth said, “How often does Joey get to see his mom?” She’d figured that Joey would be a safe topic, but based on the look on Colton’s face, she might have been wrong.

He took a long slug of his beer before answering. “Not very often. She lives in Traverse City.”

Traverse City was a couple of hours south of there, and Beth questioned how Joey’s mom could stand to live that far away. A minute later, she got her answer.

“Gretchen never liked living up here. She’s more of a city girl, and according to her, Traverse City has a lot more to offer than Harbor Springs.”

“Ah,” she said before taking another drink. Maybe it was bad etiquette to ask about his ex-wife, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She wanted to learn more about Joey and Colton, and Gretchen was obviously a piece of the puzzle.

“I bet Joey misses her,” she ventured.

Colton nodded, and then the waitress came with their food, preventing him from saying anything else.

They ate in silence for a while—a hamburger and fries for him and a club sandwich for her. The streets were even busier than when they’d first arrived, offering plenty of people-watching; however, Beth was more interested in observing him. She’d noticed his hands before—strong, capable, and well-suited for his job—but this was the first time she’d really looked at the rest of him. His movements were efficient, his posture erect, and he had a quiet confidence about him that she found immensely appealing. He was handsome in a classic all-American way, but there wasn’t anything cocky about him. She liked that too.

A couple of times, he caught her looking, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just smiled and continued eating. But if she’d thought she’d gotten away without him asking questions about her, she’d been mistaken.

The waitress had cleared their plates, and they were sipping their second round of drinks when Colton brought up the dreaded topic.

“So, what happened with you and your fiancé?”

She stiffened, although it was only fair of him to ask. She couldn’t expect to go through life avoiding “the incident” even though she would have liked to. Taking a deep breath, she replied, “Honestly, I’m not exactly sure.”

He leaned forward and raised his brows, and for some unknown reason, she found herself telling him the rest.

“He broke it off the night before our wedding, and I never saw it coming.”

“Wow. That’s rough.”

“It was, especially having to tell everybody. We’d invited almost two hundred people, some of whom had come in from out of town.”

“I meant for you. That must have been really hard on you.”

The last thing she wanted was another person’s pity, and averting her eyes, she took another drink. “I survived,” she said after setting down the glass.

“Sometimes, that’s all we can do,” he said thoughtfully.

And then she realized that he wasn’t pitying her; he was relating to her. Who said one type of loss was more painful than another? Being left at the altar or divorce—what did it matter? They’d both been through something heartbreaking, and yet here they were, sitting outside on a beautiful summer night in a quaint harborside town. And the music had just begun…