Page 4 of Her Maine Squeeze

“I assumed he’d be at the wedding. It’s fine. I can be civil for a few hours. Don’t worry.” I paste a cheery smile onto my face, but my pulse is racing. Oz is already here? What are the odds I can avoid him until the wedding?Slim to none.

“Actually,” Charley says, “Luke says he’s thinking about moving back to town.”

I stare at her. “Oh?” My voice squeaks. “Wonder why? I heard his architecture business was thriving in California.”

Charley shrugs. “According to Luke, he was kind of cryptic about it. He just said he’d made a promise to someone, and he intends to keep it.”

My heart slams against my ribcage.A promise?Could he be referring to the promise he made to me?

Surely not. He’s forgotten that promise by now. He must have. We haven’t even talked to each other in over ten years. And that last time was so awkward and painful.

No. It must be another promise. One he made to someone else. It can’t be the pact we made in high school.

The one where we promised that if we were both still single at thirty, we’d marry each other.

My eyes flicker to Charley’s. “So, what’s new with Oz? Is he, um, married? I know he probably didn’t marry the girl from his dorm room.” I force a laugh, but it sounds hollow to my ears.

A knowing smile dances on her lips. “He’s single. And he’s lookingmuchbetter than he did in high school. He looks a little like Superman, with big, muscled arms, and—”

“Wait a second,” I say, slamming my hands to my hips, “I thought you said you hadn’t seen him since high school.”

Charley laughs. “I haven’t, but I’ve seen pictures. And the man is gorgeous. The two of you would have beautiful babies, with his piercing green eyes and—"

“I saw the photograph on your phone,” I say quickly, feeling the heat rush to my face again. “So, know what he looks like.”

Charley’s smile stretches into a grin. “He’s Luke’s best man, you know. So, you’ll be walking down the aisle together.”

We’ll be walking down the aisle together…

On my thirtieth birthday.

If Oz has forgotten the pact, will that be enough to remind him? If so, will he mention it?

And what on earth will I say if he does?

Chapter Three

It was only amatter of time before I was forced to see Oz, but it’s still a punch in the gut when he walks into my sandwich shop. I’m busy slicing smoked ham for one of my regulars, so I hold up a finger to Oz and say, “I’ll be right with you. Feel free to take a seat.”

The handful of tables in the restaurant are full, so he takes a stool at the counter. I can feel his eyes on me as I construct the customer’s sandwich.Why couldn’t I have looked nice today?Word-of-mouth about the shop is spreading like wildfire, and I really need to consider hiring help. Not only is my hair stacked on top of my head in a sloppy bun, and the strands that have fallen from the bun are tied in knots, but I’m wearing my crocheted pickle pants that Luke made. They’re adorable and cozy and I love them—but they’re not the pants a girl wants to be wearing when the boy who broke her heart sees her again for the first time in over a decade.

Of course,helooks amazing. He’s wearing a green sweater that brings out the color of his eyes and dark jeans that showcase his height. He’s tall, lean, andgorgeous.

And I’m a mess.

I finish with the customer and take a moment to wipe down the counter, stalling. Finally, I take a deep breath, and walk over to Oz. “Hiya, stranger.”Ugh.That sounded phony, even to my own ears.

His face breaks into a wide smile. “It’s so great to see you, Lindy. I like what you’ve done with the place,” he says, gesturing to the sandwich shop. For a moment, I wonder if he’s just making fun of Luke’skid sister, but the expression on his face seems genuine.

“Thanks,” I say, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

His eyes focus on the gesture. His grin stretches wider. “Do you tuck loose strands of hair now instead of tying them in knots.”

I grimace. “I still tie knots sometimes.”

He chuckles. “It’s good to know some things never change.”

And suddenly, I’m annoyed. We’ve been chatting for all of two minutes and he’s already focusing on my negative traits. I’m grateful when the bell over the door chimes a moment later, and a couple in their late forties or fifties enters. “I’ll be right with you,” I call. Then I turn back to Oz. “Know what you want?”

---