He did afford himself a whoosh of air though when he saw his grandmother did thankfully have the spare and all the necessary tire-changing equipment in the trunk. He was glad she didn’t go that far in her stranded scenario and leave him totally high and dry. He pulled the jack, then the tire out of the trunk. “I might as well get this over with.”
“You sure?” she said skeptically. “You really seem like more of a roadside assistance guy to me.”
He let out a sigh, then shook his head. “You really know how to take an already tired joke to clear past the point of exhaustion, Boots.”
“Thanks, boss. I’ll take that as a compliment coming from someone as tired as you.”
“Really, you shouldn’t,” he said as he leaned down and started on the tire.
Moments later, without the cool breeze, and the manual labor wearing on him, Kellen was starting to think Boots had something when she’d talked about roadside assistance, but he knew that it could take hours on this road for a service truck to reach them. There’d only been a few cars that had passed since they’d been on this remote scenic overlook and there was no guarantee they’d get help before dark. He might as well just get the job done.
She came over to him, as he was just finishing jacking up the car, her boots and shapely calves making it hard to concentrate on the task at hand. She leaned down and wiped his now sweaty forehead. “I guess it’s lucky that Mrs. Betty packed this lunch for us. Who would have thought we’d run into such bum luck?”
Kellen swiped a glance up her way and stuck the new tire on, banging it into place. “Yeah, who woulda?”
She shrugged.
“Do me a favor and hand me that lug wrench?”
She looked at him, then at the tools on the ground, then back at him like he’d grown two heads. He laughed. “It’s the L-shaped metal thing right there.”
She grinned as she handed him the wrench. “You know that’s the first genuine smile you’ve given me and it’s at my expense.”
He frowned, pausing mid-wrenching to look up at her. “It is not.”
“It is. And there you are. The defiant one is back.” She smiled and darn it if his heart didn’t stutter. The wrench slipped and hit his other hand with a bang. “Ouch! Crap!”
“Oh no! Are you okay? I’m sorry for teasing you. You can’t help your personality.” She grabbed his hand and the current that went through him was like no other. He pulled back, then looked at her.
“I’m fine,” he said abruptly. Then softened his tone. “Really, I’m okay.”
She let out a low breath and got up slowly, leaning over into the backseat. She came out with a small package. “Is it about done?” she asked.
“Yeah, it’s all done.”
She gently took his hand again and held out the ice pack she found in the basket, then put it to his fingers. Holding tight and not giving him a chance to pull away. “Good. Now hold this to your fingers for a few moments. Like I said, you can’t help your personality. Why don’t we sit a moment and eat? If we don’t, your grandmother will be all sorts of mad at the both of us. And besides, I’m hungry.”
He let out a breath, knowing he should protest, but his finger did hurt, and his stomach was empty. He nodded. “Fine. You’re right. But just a few moments. We should get off this road before dark.”
She smiled again, letting his hand go. The feeling leaving him more empty than it should have as she went to grab the picnic basket from the backseat.
“This field really is perfect, don’t you think?”
“I think this tart is perfect. Who knew peaches, pears, black- and blueberries would all go so well together? Miss Joyce is incredible.”
“I’ll tell her that,” Drea said. “Though I’ll be sure my sister is in earshot since this is another of her new concoctions. She’s been quite inspired since being back and with Clayton. And I think it’s his honey that really makes the magic.”
He stared at her. Lunch was delicious all around. His grandmother had packed some delicious sandwiches and even surprised him by making the potato salad that she knew he liked. When she’d done that, he didn’t know, but he knew it had taken some definite planning on her part. He was glad that Boots insisted they stop and eat the lunch she’d prepared. It would have been a crime to let that salad go to waste.
And though the pie really was perfect, he was embarrassed that he couldn’t come out and tell Boots what he really wanted to tell her. That yes, the field was beautiful with its yellow and purple wildflowers framing her perfection perfectly as the hill sloped down toward the town below. No, he couldn’t say that, so instead he copped out and made the conversation all about the pie. He took another bite. Smooth move, Suit.
Kellen took out his cell to take a picture of his plate. He’d surprise his grandmother and send her a text to let her know he’d enjoyed the meal. She’d like that. But then Boots stood up and swung her arms wide. “The hills are aliiiiighttttt! !”
Alight? Kellen burst out laughing, raising his phone as he did so. “You really are a piece of work. Is there a musical or a movie you don’t know, love, and misquote?”
She shook her head. “What’s there not to love? And what are you talking about misquote? Isn’t that how it goes?”
Kellen shook his head. She was so darned cute, looking at him with her big brown eyes so earnestly that he didn’t have the heart to burst her bubble just then. He shrugged. “What do I know? You’re probably right. This is your world, not mine.”
She smiled at him then, brightening the already impossibly bright day. “Oh, I don’t buy that. The theater is magic for everyone. Where else can you go to lose yourself, even if it’s just a few hours, and escape the madness of this world?”
She looked far away and, in that moment, not her normal . . . well, he didn’t know . . . resilient self. There was a vulnerability as well as a sweet dreamy quality about her then that made him want to reach out and wrap his arms around her as he breathed in her secret magic. “I mean, you can try by just daydreaming and getting into your own head, but it’s hard. Your mind races and wherever you go, there you are.”
Kellen suddenly felt like she was speaking to his soul.
She blinked, then looked up at him and smiled. “Besides, musicals and romances are the best! Didn’t you love Lady Sings the Blues last week?”
He shrugged. Trying his best to be as nonchalant as he could as the vision of her bright, glassy eyes came to his mind.
“Well, you’ll do better when we watch Mahogany or when we watch The Way We Were or West Side Story. Louisaaaa, I just met a girl . . .” Once again, she was singing and doing it wrong.
“Really? So, now I know you’re playing with me.”
She just grinned at him then. Her cheekiness stirring him with thrills he didn’t know he knew how to feel.
“You don’t even need batteries, do you?” he asked. “Or are you just self-wind as you sleep at night?”
She frowned to herself and he wondered if she was thinking of an answer. Finally, she shrugged. “Well, I don’t know. I guess it just comes natural.” Her eyes went slightly cloudy and her voice softened. “Well, sometimes it comes and goes.” She brightened almost immediately. “What about you? What gets you going, Suit? Tell me what gets your heart racing? Or better yet, what do you consider a romantic movie? Let me guess. The Wolf of Wall Street?”
He laughed, and she shook her head. “Jeez, the things I’m finding that actually get a smile out of you are ridiculous.”
“They aren’t,” he protested, going to put his phone down. He was surprised that he still had it open—he’d been so into their conversation. “And for the record, there are some parts of my grandparents that rubbed off on me. I like plenty of romances.”
She made a surprised face and crossed her arms. “Do tell,” she snorted as she bent to start cleaning up their lunch from the blanket his grandmother stashed in the trunk. “I’m all ears.”
Kellen held back on his retort to that and
instead got up to help before they ended up good and truly stuck on this old country road in the dead of night. “Well, I like Jerry Maguire, Silver Linings Playbook, Say Anything, and There’s Something About Mary.” He gave her a satisfied look.
Boots froze, then rose up slowly. She stared at him. “Wait a minute. You mean to tell me you’re going to look at me now like you just said something cool when you went and rattled off two football movies, pretty much a stalker show, and a comedy filled with bodily fluid jokes and you are acting like you want some applause.” Her face got all serious as she looked at him earnestly. It was as if an extra hush came over the already quiet field. She swallowed down hard and blinked, tears filling her eyes. “You. Had. Me. At . . .” She paused long and swallowed again. “Aloha.”
Kellen was dumbstruck for a moment, then he burst out laughing at the absurdity of it. She was right. “You’re right,” he said. “Those really are ridiculous choices.” She grinned, a much better expression for her. “How about High Fidelity and Two Can Play That Game? Also, The Best Man?”
She made a face before smiling again. “Quite the list of cheaters’ redemption movies, but I can always get behind John Cusack, Morris Chestnut, and Taye Diggs, so I’ll give you those.”
“You are seriously talented. You know that?”
Her face fell once again.
“Wait, what did I say?”
“Nothing,” she responded, and it seemed like all the air was sucked out of the vast field.
“What do you mean nothing? I was just trying to pay you a compliment.”
She looked at him, her smile not so bright as she finished reloading the basket and picked up the blanket. He grabbed the other corners and went to folding it with her. “You’re right, I should have just said thank you. So, thank you.”
He snorted. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”
She shook her head and looked at him as they folded the blanket in half. “No, I do. That was honestly just me taking out frustration on you that wasn’t warranted. It wasn’t fair.” She stepped forward then, as he did too to bring their two parts together. He took the blanket from her hands to finish folding it. Their fingertips touching briefly as she leaned forward and kissed him softly on his cheek. “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft. Her breath light as the petal of one of the wildflowers. Kellen was shocked and turned. Surprisingly, quickly, his lips connecting with hers unexpectedly, and more unexpectedly he was shocked when she didn’t pull back.
It was soft and sweet and so much more perfect than the field or the pie or even the potato salad. Her kiss made his body tense at the same time it made his heart melt. Kellen was thankful for the blanket between them and the setting sun giving him a much-needed barrier between his body, heart, and mind.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she pulled back, licking the memory of their glorious moment from her full lips.
He frowned. “What do you have to be sorry for?”
She blushed as she picked up the basket and headed for the car. “It seems I got a little crazy. That happens when I get lost in a character and I’m talking about films. I got too familiar. I know we have a working relationship. Please forget that this happened,” she said as she eased into the passenger seat. “It won’t happen again.”
Forget? Did she really think forgetting was something he’d ever be able to do? But then he looked at her and her eyes seemed so earnest, almost pleading with him to just give in and agree with her. He nodded and stepped back, in that moment tripping over a rock and heading feet over head backward down the hill. “Aaaasss youuuu weeesh, Booootsss!!!”
He didn’t know if he was right, but he could have sworn he heard laughter in her voice when she yelled down after him, “I get it now, Suit! You really are full of surprises.”
Chapter 17
Something He Can Feel
She wasn’t okay. As a matter of fact, nothing about this felt okay. Drea thought that she had successfully put her embarrassing slipup and boss kiss behind her, finally had a successful week of renovation, and gotten over some of the awkwardness with Kellen, though the whole down the hill roll almost made her embarrassment worth it all. But now here they were once again with Mrs. Betty throwing boulders into their path.
The three of them were currently in first class on a flight to New York for a quick weekend shopping trip because Mrs. Betty had heard about an old theater down in SoHo that was closing and she wanted to get a jump on whatever supplies were for sale. She also wanted to visit a warehouse in the theater district that specialized in a lot of vintage signage that Drea understood couldn’t be sourced anywhere else.
Drea totally understood, and in any other circumstance would have actually been happy for the paid, not to mention first-class, trip back home. However, in this particular circumstance she was filled with nothing but dread and trepidation. First, it had been months since she’d seen her parents, as they’d only been corresponding by quick text and short phone calls since she’d arrived in Sugar Lake, and she also had only seen them very briefly when they’d gone on their two-month RV retirement trip across the country. Since then they’d been traveling on and off nonstop. But now they were back home in New York, at least temporarily, and she was sure when she got to the apartment they would be quick to pounce on her about making decisions about what to do with the rest of their retirement years. The calls and texts to her had gotten more insistent as of late, and though still in their usual light tone, she could detect a bit of frustration and weariness in their questions about what she planned to do and if she planned to come back to New York. They still wanted to keep the apartment there since her brother was finally finishing up his studies in the fall, but they also wanted to know if she would be returning to New York to continue auditioning and pursuing her dreams of acting and entertainment.
Drea was nibbling on her lips and thinking hard about her upcoming—and probably long—dinner conversation with both her mother and father and she didn’t notice the flight attendant trying to get her attention. Not until Mrs. Betty, who was sitting next to her, tapped on her arm. “You okay, dear?” Mrs. Betty asked. “They wanted to know if you’d like another snack.”
Drea shook her head and, looking up at the flight attendant, said, “No thank you.” Then to Mrs. Betty, “This has been more than enough; you really didn’t have to go all out like this.”
“Nonsense, sweetheart. My husband and I didn’t travel nearly as much as we would’ve liked before he passed away, but we talked about it very much, and now that he’s gone, I realize we wasted way too much time with just talk. Life is way too short and nothing is guaranteed. So, if I am traveling to anywhere I’m going to do it as comfortably as possible with what resources I have.” She smiled at Drea, her eyes shining, though the bit of light and happiness that should’ve been there was dim. “So what that means for you, my darling, is if you’re with me, then you’re traveling in style too.”
Drea grinned, hoping that her smile didn’t reflect the heavy weight she was feeling on her heart. She glanced over at Kellen, who was across the aisle from them, his laptop open, his brows knit tight as he stared at his computer screen. “Lucky me,” she said at the same time he turned and looked away. “Well, you at least have to let me repay you in what little way I can. You must come over and stop by my parents’ house for dinner. I know once my mom finds out you’re in town too, she won’t take no for an answer. She’s so grateful for the job you’ve given me.”
“Oh, stop it now with all that grateful talk. I’m the one who’s grateful that you’re working with me. And I’d love to see your mother and your father too—the scoundrel he is taking her from our town. But didn’t you let them know you were coming home?”
Drea smiled. “No, I thought I’d surprise them.”
Mrs. Betty frowned. “If you say so, dear. Either way, I look forward to seeing your parents.”
Drea nodded. “I’m glad, though the idea of my father as a scoundrel is pretty hilarious to m
e.”
To this Mrs. Betty just tilted her head and gave Drea a sly look. “If you say so, dear. He is your shining father after all. Of course, you wouldn’t know that’s the dashing young man I used to know back in our younger days.”
They arrived at JFK and there was a car already waiting to pick them up. It took a bit of finagling to convince Mrs. Betty to not put her up at the hotel/extended stay residence where she and Kellen were staying, which he normally used when in New York on business. But she got through to Mrs. Betty when she explained how much trouble she’d be in with her mother if she took her up on that offer and didn’t stay at home. Taking the flight was one thing, but not staying at home, while in the city, even if it was work, was another thing entirely.
Mrs. Betty, being a Southern woman and a mother herself, understood, and they dropped Drea off with a promise to meet up at the SoHo theater in the morning.
“I’m home!” Drea said upon entering the apartment, surprised to find it in total darkness. Where in the world was everyone?
She quickly texted her mother only to get a text back. Sorry. Last minute run up to the Cape. Your father wanted to get in some fishing and there’s a fantastic all-you-can-fish weekend frolic for seniors going on. Tonight is the Friday night flash-back party. I’ve got to go. Will call you in the morning. Good night! What the heck was that last one for? How many muscles was she using to flash back and why didn’t she call Drea beforehand to let her know she wouldn’t be home? Darn it, she really had a taste for her mother’s ham and greens and yams! Now all the foods she was dreaming of were up on the Cape Friday night frolicking with a bunch of wild seniors. And of course, her brother was not in town either. Out and about doing his own sort of frolicking. Making himself quite the social media stunter as she’d seen him doing of late. It seems he’d picked up where she’d left off.
Drea shook her head and headed to her room. Gee, it was nice to not be missed. Flipping on the light, she half expected to find it converted to her mother’s dream craft room, but thankfully her bed was still there, and she couldn’t wait to flop into it and worry about tomorrow—tomorrow.
Too Sweet to Be Good Page 20
