Hometown Series Box Set

by Kirsten Fullmer

  “You too, Bobby, you’re welcome to join us,” Tara added.

  The thin man rubbed his hand up and down his other arm, his gaze bouncing from Chad and Julia to Tara and Justin, then Elliot and Lizzie. “Uh, ’peers to me I’d be odd man out…”

  Stunned by his comment, Lizzie realized that Bobby considered her and Elliot a couple. The thought that it was so obvious to a stranger caused alarm bells to clang through her mind. “No, really, Bobby, it’s not like that at all. Please come, it’ll be fun.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll think about it. If I’m not there don’t wait for me.” And with that, he headed out the door and down the stairs.

  Tara, talking excitedly about sandwiches, dragged Justin out the door, and Chad and Julia followed, leaving Lizzie and Elliot in her spare room alone.

  Elliot set the coffee mug on the floor by the end of the bed and stood to meander to Lizzie’s side. “Are you sure Bobby was wrong about us? I thought it was like that.” He took Lizzie’s hand in his, stroking her palm with his thumb.

  Lizzie stared at their interlocked fingers, her brow knit.

  Elliot’s other hand reached up to tilt her chin so he could see her face, his fingers caressing the tender skin under her jaw. “Lizzie? What’s wrong? Am I moving too fast?”

  She hedged. “That is a beautiful shirt. You always dress so nice.”

  He frowned. “You say that like it’s a problem.”

  She shook her head. “No, not exactly, it’s—”

  “These are interesting earrings, by the way,” he interrupted, lifting a feather with one finger.

  “Stop that, I can’t think,” she said, swatting at his hand and pulling away. “I know you think I dress crazy.”

  “Not crazy… distinctive,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Everything about you is unusual. That’s what I like about you.”

  Shaking her head, Lizzie paced across the room. “I’m just me. Nothing complicated or fancy… I like simple things.” She swung around to face Elliot. “Why does that have to be so hard?”

  He rubbed one hand across the back of his neck, realizing for the first time that Lizzie was truly upset, and whatever was causing her to keep her distance ran much deeper than him leaving soon. “Why is what so hard?”

  She swung one hand in the air. “This! That!” She pointed to the loom parts stacked in the corner of the room. “Why is it so hard for everyone to understand that I only want basic things! I don’t care about money or possessions or…” She swallowed hard. “Or men with great jobs from influential families who are successful and so damn handsome…”

  Elliot’s eyebrows rose, and his hand froze on his neck.

  Silence filled the small room, like a lifeboat after the tab was pulled, pushing them both against the walls, pressing into every corner. A long moment passed.

  Lizzie sighed, giving the impression of pressurized air rushing from the situation.

  Elliot tucked his hands back into his pockets. “This is new, gotta admit. I’ve never been shot down for being too handsome or successful.”

  Looking as if the fight had been beaten out of her, Lizzie trudged to the antique bed and flopped down to sit on the edge. “I’m sorry,” she said, motioning for Elliot to sit next to her. “Let me start at the beginning…”

  Unsure what exactly was coming, Elliot ambled to the bed and sat down.

  Chapter Twelve

  As Elliot waited for Lizzie to explain, his mind spun through the possibilities of what she would say next. He’d pictured them together on this bed, several times in fact, but in his little fantasy she hadn’t been in a talking mood. Pushing away the visual of them in a tangle of sheets, he tried to concentrate on Lizzie’s face.

  Her eyes darted back and forth and she cleared her throat, looking for the best place to start. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out, so she closed it.

  He reached for her hand. “Did I do something to upset you?” he began, willing to take whatever she’d say in order to get the ball rolling.

  Shock registered on her already miserable face. “No, of course not. You’ve been a perfect gentleman.” She glanced at their interlaced fingers. “That’s been part of the problem—I guess.”

  “Being a gentleman?” he asked. “I’m batting a thousand here. Should have skipped charm school, evidently...”

  “Okay, okay—it’s my mother,” Lizzie blurted. “You know she’s been hounding me about being here.”

  He nodded, teasing the pulse point of her wrist with his thumb.

  “Well, for my whole life she’s pounded into my brain that you are exactly the type of man I should choose.”

  He frowned. “…I try to be…”

  “No, no, no,” she interrupted. “You’re wonderful. It’s me!”

  Elliot released her hand and stood. “Oh, now I get it. The old “It’s me, not you”. That I understand.”

  Lizzie grabbed his hand and pulled him back down next to her. “No, you don’t get it. I really do like you.”

  Elliot rubbed the back of his neck again. “You lost me…”

  “Don’t you see?” Her hands flung out in frustration. “I fought my mother tooth and nail to get away from Boston. I’ve resisted her choosing a man for me, just like I chose to leave the career and house that she selected for me. I can’t fall for you because my mother would love you and she would invade every moment of my life! The only way to keep her away is to choose someone she’d hate.”

  His eyes darted back and forth trying to follow Lizzie’s line of thought. “So…I’m not what you want…but…someone your mother would?”

  At the end of her wits, Lizzie grabbed fistfuls of his beautiful shirt in both hands and dragged his face down to hers. “I want you all the time. I can’t stop thinking about you!”

  Astounded at the turn of events, Elliot knew he had a limited amount of time to speak before she pulled away, and he definitely wanted to keep her focused on wanting him.

  His gaze burned into hers, both of them tense and waiting to see what the other would do.

  Before Lizzie could say another word, his arms wound around her and she found herself being kissed within an inch of her life. Too shocked to resist, evidently not even considering that as an option, she let go of his shirt and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back for all she was worth. In a matter of seconds, she found herself on her back, under him on the bed, their breath coming in gasps between kisses.

  “Oh my God, Elliot…” she moaned as he came up for air, “we shouldn’t be doing this…”

  In response, he grinned, his eyes searching her face, threaded his fingers through the hair by her ear.

  The tender touch snapped the last bit of resolve Lizzie harbored, and she pulled him back to her for more kisses. When he finally lifted his lips from hers, he moved down to kiss the length of her neck, lingering at her throbbing pulse.

  Lost in the moment, Lizzie pulled up his shirt to feel his back hot and smooth under her fingers.

  A shoe hit the floor as they shifted on the narrow bed. Elliot supported himself on one elbow and with the other hand reached for the neckline of her shirt, pulling it aside to lean down and shower kisses on her chest.

  Drowning in the flood of sensation swamping her senses, Lizzie’s eyes fell closed. Involuntarily, her back arched as her body traitorously surrendered. With a long sigh her hands came up to cradle his face, her fingers sliding into his hair.

  Elliot’s hand moved lower to find the bottom of her T-shirt, his fingers warm on the skin of her stomach. She groaned, her hands releasing his face to clasp his upper arms.

  Pausing to take in the beautiful woman hot and willing under him, Elliot grinned at his amazing luck. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, then leaned down to touch his lips to hers.

  Passion lit in Lizzie, exploding like a fireball, and she no longer cared about her mother, or convention, or antique beds. Squirming under him, she reached for Elliot’s belt buckle.

&nb
sp; Elliot’s phone rang in his pants pocket, the chiming vibrating ringtone shocking them both. They froze, nose to nose, their eyes wide and hearts pounding. The phone rang again, and then again.

  “Are you going to get that?” Lizzie whispered, with her arms between them, one hand wrapped around Elliot’s belt and the other holding the open buckle.

  “Do you want me to?” he asked, with his hand still under her shirt.

  “…I don’t think so…” she answered honestly.

  The phone ceased ringing, and Lizzie looked as if she would speak, so Elliot slid his fingers up her side to tease the bottom edge of her bra. She shivered, her eyes losing focus, then drifting closed. Remembering that they should be at the inn to leave for the picnic, Elliot clenched his jaw in frustration. He knew it would embarrass Lizzie to show up an hour late, rumpled and satisfied––because she absolutely would be satisfied––but stopping now seemed impossible.

  Envisioning the scene, he realized everyone would know what they’d been up to, and Lizzie would be even more upset and confused than before. She obviously hadn’t decided if she wanted to be with him, and he wasn’t one to take advantage of short-term gains that would destroy long-term returns. He sighed, his eyes roaming over her face, her neck... It wasn’t fair.

  Forlornly, he leaned up to sit on the edge of the bed. His stocking feet landed on the floor, but his hand couldn’t be persuaded to evacuate Lizzie’s shirt. Unable to resist, he bent to kiss her exposed belly and his foot kicked over his coffee cup, sending it scuttling across the room, coffee sloshing in all directions. With a curse, he sprang from the bed, turning in circles looking for something to sop up the mess. “Mother of pearl! I don’t know what is up with me and coffee…” Finally his eyes settled on Lizzie’s desk, and he grabbed a roll of paper towels.

  Lizzie moaned, rolling toward the wall to tug down her shirt. Hearing Elliot scurry and cuss, she sat up, looking dazed. “It’s okay, nothing is ruined,” she assured him, swinging her feet over the edge of the bed. She looked down at her one bootless foot, then scanned the room past Elliot looking for the other boot.

  He straightened, holding the dripping paper towels.

  Finding her boot tossed near the door, a smile played at the corner of Lizzie’s mouth.

  Seeing no place to deposit the sodden mess of paper towels, Elliot shoved the wad of towels in the empty coffee mug, then deposited it on the floor and plopped down on the bed next to Lizzie. “Sorry about the floor.”

  She waved him off, a wrinkle creasing the bridge of her nose. Her gaze lifted to his, her eyes wide and serious. “Why did you stop?”

  He took her hand in both of his, watching as he smoothed out her fingers, threading his between them, locking them together. He looked up, his expression sad. “Because…I want you to be sure.”

  His words stung and healed at the same time, causing Lizzie to stare at the man. “I would have—”

  “I know,” he interrupted, then patted her hand and released her fingers. Looking down, he brushed at the two wadded hand marks on the front of his polo. His gaze followed Lizzie’s to her boot strewn across the room and he turned back to her. “So if I understand the situation correctly, I’m not acceptable because your mother would approve, and that can’t happen.”

  “Exactly,” Lizzie replied. “But…maybe I can cope.”

  He stood and adjusted his shirt, then buckled his belt. “Well, my dear, if that was coping, you do it very well.”

  She blushed.

  He offered her a hand. “Shall we away?”

  “We shall,” she said with a nod as she bent to snatch up the coffee mug. “Lead the way…”

  * * *

  The three couples trudged up a steep trail. Justin carried the overloaded picnic basket, followed by Tara. Lizzie toted a quilt and tried not to look too often at Elliot strolling beside her, swinging a dripping bag of ice. Chad brought up the rear, carrying a bag containing plastic silverware and paper plates as he held Julia by the elbow, helping her over roots and rocks.

  Elliot tripped on a root and pitched forward, his free hand shooting out to break his fall. The group stopped but he sprang back up, lifting the ice bag to check for holes. With all eyes on him, he shrugged. “What? I thought I saw a quarter…”

  Lizzie chuckled. “Of course you did.” Elliot’s cocky smile threatened to melt her bones, so she pressed on.

  The group followed the winding trail, each stopping to hold tree branches for the next hiker. Bushes containing razor-sharp briars grew along the trail, causing the friends to move with care. Finally, they emerged along the far side of the river.

  Julia pointed across the rapids to the parking lot where they’d left their vehicles. “Look how far we’ve come!”

  Taking the picnic basket from Justin, Tara worked her way down the slope toward the river. “I’m telling you this is the perfect spot. I love this place.”

  One at a time, they followed Tara through brush, watching for thorns. Ducking under a branch, Lizzie’s head was yanked back and she froze. Elliot turned to her in question. “I think something’s got me by the hair,” she said, her eyes wide.

  Elliot dropped the ice bag and came to the rescue, untangling her braid from the briars. “Be careful, these things look like they could slice you wide open.”

  When she was free, he scanned her face. “Are you okay, did it cut you?”

  She shook her head, embarrassed by the attention. But deep down, it was nice to be cared for and tended to. “I’m okay,” she assured him. “That was weird. Like it just reached out and grabbed me.”

  Elliot picked up the bag of ice and checked the bottom for more holes; then, his attention returned to Lizzie. The rest of the group had continued on and were busy spreading out the blanket and arranging the picnic. He reached out and brushed aside a curl from Lizzie’s forehead, as if to check for himself that she was not cut. “You sure you’re okay?”

  Overcome by the tenderness in his touch, Lizzie struggled to remember why she wasn’t supposed to like him. No one had shown her such concern since her grandfather had died. “I’m fine, just need to watch where I’m going,” she muttered, her thoughts tangled with emotion.

  * * *

  Two hours later, Lizzie leaned back on one arm and stretched her legs in front of her on the blanket. She wiggled her bare toes in the afternoon sunshine, her boots and socks tossed haphazardly to one side, and acknowledged that the day had been created for picnics. She turned to glance over her shoulder toward Elliot, who lay behind her, sprawled on his back with his hands tucked under his head in his typical relaxed manner.

  The river, wide and picturesque, surged and tumbled around the large flat rock that had acted as a table for the picnic. Remnants of lunch––cheese, cold cuts, buns in a bag, and a wine bottle––had been cleared to one corner of Tara’s old quilt before the three couples split up. Justin and Tara had wandered off to walk the back trails, while Julia and Chad had headed toward the country store down the way, most likely in search of ice cream.

  Elliot kicked off his loafers, pushing at the heel of each shoe with the toe of his other foot. Swiveling his ankles, he smiled, his eyes sparkling. “I do believe this place is charmed.”

  Lizzie shifted to face Elliot and reached for her half-empty wine glass. Bringing it to her lips, she gazed over the rim at him. “Mmm-hmm…”

  Elliot winked, nearly causing Lizzie to choke.

  He patted the blanket next to him with one hand, as his other bunched her discarded poncho under his head for a pillow. “Come lie down here by me and check out this view.”

  The invitation was too much to resist, so Lizzie carefully placed her wine glass back among the leftover lunch dishes and shifted to lie down. She lay sideways, with her head resting on Elliot’s stomach, and her feet hung off the end of the rock.

  Spread before them, the river splashed and gurgled as it tumbled over boulders, then slid past the thick forest on both banks. The leaves in the trees waved a rio
t of reds, yellows, and oranges. and birdsong filled the air, interrupted occasionally by a hoot or squeal of folks playing down river.

  “It’s so pretty it hurts, isn’t it?” Lizzie whispered, the wine swimming through her system, warming her mind and body.

  Elliot reached down with one hand to toy with Lizzie’s braid. “I guess I never realized what I was missing.” He bent the end of Lizzie’s braid to make a unicorn horn coming out of her forehead.

  She swatted at the braid. “This has to be lived to be appreciated.”

  Now using the end of her braid to tickle her cheek, Elliot agreed. “I’ve always kind of thought of a stunning view as something more like the Alps from a ski chalet. Don’t get me wrong, that’s amazing.” He paused, his eyes following the river. “But this…”

  Lizzie closed her eyes, reveling in the mix of warm sun and the cold shiver caused by the hair tracing down her cheek. For the first time in years, she felt calm, accepted, at peace, as if she were finally where she belonged.

  Elliot dropped the braid and brushed Lizzie’s cheek with the back of his finger, well aware of the effect his touch had on her. “Have you been here before?”

  Even though she was drowning in his touch, Lizzie was brought back to the moment with his question. “Not to this spot, but to other places like this.” Goosebumps washed across her scalp and down her arms.

  “When?” Elliot asked, his fingers skimming along Lizzie’s neck.

  Her eyes fell closed and her breath caught in her throat. “Mmmm…?”

  He chuckled, causing Lizzie’s head to bob up and down on his stomach. “When did you have picnics by the river,” he reminded her.

  She shifted, turning to stretch out next to Elliot, and leaned up on one elbow to look past him, across the river. “With my grandpa, when I was a kid.” Her gaze drifted through the trees as she visited memories long past.

  He laced his fingers behind his head, contemplating Lizzie’s delicate jawline. His eyes darted back and forth across her smooth olive complexion, from her forehead to her chin, then slid down the long smooth column of her throat. Finally, he returned his gaze to her face. “Tell me about him…”