The Marriage Recipe. Michele Dunaway

then that they both took a good look at each other. “Rachel?” the man said. “It is you.”

      Colin Morris stood in front of her, blocking her escape. “Hi, Colin,” she replied.

      He smiled. They were still in the vestibule, and he let the outer door close behind him with a thud. “It’s good to see you. I heard you were in town.” His blue eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”

      “What, in town?” He hadn’t grown dense over the years, had he?

      He frowned. “No. Here. Where I work.”

      “Oh. I wanted to catch Bruce, but he’s away.”

      “Yeah, his wife’s pregnant and soon she won’t be able to travel with Bella, her little girl. Christina and Bruce decided to visit her side of the family now, while she’s still mobile.

      “So, you’re home for a while?” he asked conversationally.

      “Yes. You know, I do come home occasionally. In fact, I was home this past Christmas,” she said, chafing. “I met Christina then. She came briefly into Kim’s to pick up some of my mom’s chicken salad. I’m in and out so quickly that I don’t have time to see everyone. Most of my friends are all married and busy with their own lives. I have managed to keep in touch with Heather.”

      “Yeah, but not with me or Bruce. You didn’t attend his wedding. I thought I’d run into you there. We haven’t caught up in years.”

      “I was in the Hamptons that weekend with a prior commitment.”

      “Oh.” He arched his eyebrows disapprovingly, as if he found hobnobbing a poor excuse for missing a friend’s nuptials.

      Rachel exhaled, blowing a strand of wind-tossed hair off her face. She didn’t want to get into any discussion with Colin here, in between doorways. The man had no right to judge her. She might be back in Morrisville, but the friendship they’d shared was long past. She was all grown-up now, and not so enamored with Colin’s playboy ways.

      “It’s been great catching up, Colin, but I’ve really got to get back. Kim’s closes at three, but there’s always cleaning to do. I said I’d help.”

      “You’re working there now?” he asked.

      She gritted her teeth. “Temporarily. I have a few matters to take care of, which is why I came by to consult Bruce. I’ll just visit your dad tonight. Take him and your mom a pie.”

      “He always had a sweet spot for you and your desserts,” Colin said with a laugh. When he grinned, the harsh angles of his face softened. He could frown and remain drop-dead attractive; smiling made him a heartthrob. Sadly, even after all the years away, Rachel found herself not immune. He had been her secret crush for so long. That had to be the reason she experienced a tingle in her toes and a shiver along her spine. The man was simply magnetic. Like Marco, Colin probably affected a lot of other women this way.

      “So what do you want to talk to Dad about?” he asked, pushing the inner door open. “I’ve got some time and we’re blocking the exit. We need to either go one way or the other. Why don’t you tell me about it.”

      “Really, I’m not going to be here in Morrisville that long and—”

      He stopped, his foot holding open the lobby door. “Look, Rachel, if it’s something legal, my father has a pretty tight schedule for the next few weeks. He’s due in court two days from now as the defense counsel in what’s shaping up to be a huge and long trial. If you want some advice, I’ll help. We are still friends, aren’t we?”

      She wavered. Friends. That was all they’d been until her heart had gotten in the way. Even afterward, the feelings had been one-sided. Hers.

      Oh, she’d once made the mistake of thinking that he’d asked her out, but it had been only one of those “in passing” things that people say to be polite. She and Colin had snuck outside with a half-size bottle of pink champagne. The liquor had made her fuzzy, and they’d kissed, but that had been it. Nothing more.

      The next day, life had returned to normal and she hadn’t needed a prom dress after all—at least, not until her senior year. By then, Colin and Bruce were college sophomores at Indiana University. The girl next door could never compete with the sophisticated girls the two dated. After her high-school graduation, Rachel had turned her back on Morrisville and headed east.

      “Are you coming?” Colin asked.

      Rachel stared at him. Same blond hair, blue eyes. Same sexy-as-all-get-out grin. But she was older. Wiser. Colin no longer meant anything to her. All she wanted was her recipes and Marco Alessandro put in his place. Bruce wasn’t available, and Colin could help her. She’d at least listen to what the man had to say. That didn’t cost a thing.

      

      AS COLIN PUSHED the elevator button for the third floor, he remained extremely aware of Rachel. Even though they hadn’t spoken walking across the lobby, he’d sensed exactly where she was behind him. He’d heard during a partner meeting yesterday that she’d returned—gossip in Morrisville traveled faster than lightning. Tongues had wagged about how Rachel had been engaged to some hotshot restaurateur in New York and she’d said good riddance to him.

      “I’m down here,” he said as the elevator doors opened. His corner suite was on the Morris side of the building and had a bird’s-eye view of Main Street, including Kim’s Diner. Two years ago faulty wiring had caused the diner to burn to the ground, leaving little but a large pile of ashes. He’d expected Rachel to come home then, but she hadn’t. Thus he suspected there was more behind her current relocation. Colin hung up his jacket.

      “Can I get that?” he asked.

      “No, I’m fine,” Rachel said, removing her coat and sitting in the wingback chair across from his desk.

      So she was still stubborn. That hadn’t changed.

      “I like your office,” she said.

      “Thanks,” he said politely, drinking in the changes to her appearance. Growing up, she’d always worn her hair in a bob. Now it had grown out to past her shoulders, and she’d swept her bangs off her face. The longer style suited her. She’d filled out nicely, as well, he noticed. The red, long-sleeved Henley fit like a glove.

      “Do Bruce and Christina have offices up here, too?” Rachel asked, bringing her attention from the surroundings to him.

      Always Bruce, Colin thought. Rachel’s hair was different, but her fascination with his friend hadn’t changed. Bruce would visit the Morris household and within five minutes Rachel would be knocking on the back door. Not that he or Bruce had minded. For years, she’d simply been one of the boys, but eventually they’d reached their teens and nature had interfered. Rachel had developed the biggest crush on Bruce.

      Rather inconvenient, playing second fiddle. Only in college had Colin stepped out of Bruce’s shadow, at least with the ladies. As a lawyer, he’d never have the great legal mind his friend possessed, but Colin had made his peace with that and had carved out a decent career. Bruce actually had been passed over for a senior partnership when the firm had hired Christina, and now that Bruce had been promoted, Colin knew he was finally next in line.

      “Their offices are in the south wing. The Lancaster end. So,” he said with a deliberate cough to clear his tight throat, “what’s going on?”

      Rachel twisted around, the material of her sweater stretching tight. Colin swallowed and shifted. Darn, but this grown-up version of his childhood buddy had his libido roaring to life, and somehow his immediate reaction was profound and, darn it, uncomfortable. She wasn’t even sending him signals, and here he was, grateful that he was safely sitting behind his desk.

      She removed a wadded-up envelope from her purse, leaned over the edge of his desk and pushed the paper toward him as if touching it had burned her fingertips. Bright red polish, Colin saw. She’d worn pale pink in the past, and he wondered if her toenails were the same shade