by Terra Little
“You know, from what I’ve seen so far, Danville seems like a quiet little town without a lot going on. Everybody’s laid-back, and things move at a slower pace. So, how do businesses survive or even thrive at this pace?”
She shrugged. “We have something going on all the time. Out at the bed-and-breakfast, we celebrate every holiday, the change of seasons, harvest time—you name it. In town, they have a huge annual BBQ festival. And they have events for just about everything, as well.”
The waiter arrived and took their dinner orders.
“Have you lived here all your life?” Laurent asked.
Tracee shook her head. “I was born and raised in Nicholasville, Kentucky, then I went to college in Louisville. I didn’t move to Danville until years after I graduated.”
“That’s where the Kentucky Derby is, isn’t it?”
“Yep, right up the road. I lived there for five years.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, what made you move to Danville? I mean, isn’t Louisville a larger city?”
“It is. But sometimes even a big city can be too small for two people to live in.”
He nodded. “I see. Man trouble?”
“Something like that.” She lowered her gaze from his intense stare. She was not going down memory lane with this man. “But I don’t regret moving here. I reconnected with my best friend, Mae, and I get to see my family every week. I have a niece and nephew that I adore, as well as another one on the way.”
“Well, it’s his loss, not yours. Every time I look at you, I’m amazed that you’re single. I see an intelligent, sexy woman that some fool let get away.”
She bit her bottom lip to keep from blushing. “I bet you say that to all the ladies,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
He laughed. “No, I don’t. And I consider myself very fortunate to have had you drop into my arms like you did.”
Tracee held her chin up. What was he buttering her up for? “How long did you say you’d be in town?”
He shrugged. “A couple more days, at the most.”
She smiled. “Well, we may have to extend this little tour. You’re good for my ego. At one time, the Second Street area used to be a thriving African American business district. We have some information at the bed-and-breakfast I’ll get and show you tomorrow if you’re interested?”
“Definitely.”
“Great. Since my sister’s out of town, I’m helping out at the farmers market in the morning. You can pick me up there.”
After dinner, they climbed into Laurent’s rental and headed back to the bed-and-breakfast.
“I’ll say one thing, this countryside is beautiful. Especially with all the colorful foliage at this time of the year. And just look at that sunset.”
Tracee glanced off in the distance at one of the things she truly appreciated—a perfect sunset. “If you don’t have to be back at a certain time, there’s a spot up the road where you have a perfect view of the sun setting.”
“I’ve got nothing but time. Let’s hit it.”
Tracee had Laurent drive past the bed-and-breakfast entrance to a spot up the road where the tree line was lower and so the sun dropping off a cliff was visible.
“Nice... It’s like a color explosion.” Laurent turned the car off and opened his door.
Tracee got out as well and walked around to the front of the car. “This is the perfect time of year to witness the change in this spot. Is it like this in California as well?”
“Yes. But I’ll have to admit, I’m hardly relaxed long enough to fully enjoy it.” He leaned against the front of the car and crossed his legs at the ankle.
Tracee followed suit and cast her gaze out across the colorful foliage before her. Too bad Laurent wasn’t sticking around—she could get used to him. He crossed his arms and turned his gaze to her.
“You come here often?”
She shook her head. “Not often, no.”
He turned around to glance back over his shoulder. “This looks like what teenagers call a make-out spot. A policeman’s not going to come along with a flashlight once it gets dark and tell us to move along, will he?”
Tracee laughed and reached out to punch Laurent on the arm. “Of course not. What kind of girl do you take me for?”
“One that knows how to have a good time. I enjoyed Tuesday night. I thought about it Wednesday night and I started to call you, but thought I’d better not.”
“I was up to my elbows in sweet potato pies anyway. Two of my regular customers are nursing homes. They keep me pretty busy.”
“I noticed there’s a bakery in town. Isn’t that competition for you?”
“Of course, but they can’t duplicate my recipes. I’ve put my own spin on some of my grandmother’s old recipes. I also modified recipes from the bakery I used to work for in Louisville. I’ve been told that my sweets are like crack. Once you get hooked, I’ve got you.”
“From what I’ve tasted, I can believe that.”
“Besides, I’m going to be leasing a prime spot downtown in the Rival Hotel.”
Laurent turned toward her, resting his elbow on the car hood. “You mean somewhere close to the hotel?” he asked.
“No, inside. There used to be a business connected to the hotel with an entrance from the inside and another from the outside. It’s been closed for a while now, but I’ve been talking to the owner and I plan to reopen right there.”
“Inside the Rival Hotel?”
“Yep.”
He nodded. “Why not opt for your own spot downtown, or in a mall somewhere?”
“The hotel is kind of a special place for me. So it has to be there. Besides, I’m this close—” she held her index finger and thumb an inch apart “—to getting a small business loan.”
He looked down at the car before turning back to the sunset, this time leaning his elbows back against the hood. She turned around and joined him, and they remained silent for a few minutes just enjoying the view.
“Can I ask you a question?” she said, breaking the silence.
“Sure,” he responded.
“Why did you kiss me?”
He reached over for a lock of hair that had fallen across her face and tucked it behind her ear. “I don’t know. Why does a guy kiss a girl? Because he wants to see what her lips taste like, or maybe because I didn’t have a present for you and it was the only thing I could think of at that moment. Those red lips were calling my name.” He cupped a hand around his mouth and called out to the wind. “Laurent, Laurent, kiss me.”
“My lips said no such thing!” Tracee laughed.
He nodded. “Oh, yes, they did. They gave me that seductive pout that said, ‘come hither, young man, and devour me. I’ve been waiting on you all night long.’”
Tracee held a hand over her mouth and laughed. If she’d given him that impression, maybe she’d had one glass of wine too many. “I don’t pout,” she said after she dropped her hand.
He pointed at her. “Yes, you do. Like now. Your lips are as beautiful as this sunset, far more inviting and begging to be kissed.” He leaned in closer to her before reaching out and placing a hand behind her head.
Tracee’s pulse quickened with the touch of Laurent’s hand at the base of her neck. He gently pulled her closer and softly kissed her lips. Butterflies took flight inside her stomach, flying in every direction, as confused as she was. Should she return the kiss? She leaned against the car, letting him kiss her.
His lips were soft and moist, and she was having a fantasy of snuggling next to him in a warm bed. He released her and leaned back.
“Now this is officially a make-out spot,” he said.
* * *
Saturday morning Laurent found the farmers market at the edge of town, just like Tracee said. After walking past booths of everything from organic produce to homemade soa
ps, he found the Coleman House Farm’s booth. Tracee was in the middle of bagging a bunch of greens for two women who were trying their best to talk her down on the price. Laurent had tried to dress down in a pair of blue jeans, sneakers and a dark gray zip-up jacket, but he might have still been a little overdressed for this Saturday morning crowd. If he was going to be here much longer, he might have to do a little small-town clothes shopping.
The minute he made eye contact with Tracee, she checked her watch. He was early. It was eleven forty-five. After the ladies purchased their greens, they moved to the next booth.
“Ma’am, I wonder if you can help me pick out some greens,” Laurent said as he picked up a bunch and water unexpectedly ran from the greens down his arm. He jumped back to keep the water from getting on his clothes.
Tracee grabbed a wad of paper towels and quickly exchanged them for the greens in his hand. He dried the water running up his sleeve. He couldn’t believe the silly shit that happened to him when he was around this woman.
She came from behind the table, took the wadded paper towel from him and pitched it in a nearby garbage can. “I’m going to assume you wouldn’t know how to cook those greens if I gave them to you.”
“I wish you weren’t right, but I’m afraid my skills in the kitchen could use a little work. I can make French toast, if that counts.”
“Hey, not everybody can do that, so give yourself some credit. You have to get the proportion of egg and milk just right.”
“Oh, I’ve perfected that. I also use a secret ingredient that just makes your mouth water.”
She smiled. “I bet you do.” Then she bit her bottom lip.
Laurent looked down at Tracee’s snug jeans that stopped at her ankles and her white sneakers. Under a black vest, she wore a long-sleeved black T-shirt that hugged her hips. The Coleman House Farm logo was on the front in white letters. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun on the top of her head. And those silver hoop earrings were large enough they nearly touched her shoulders. Her casual appearance was sexy as hell.
“I know I’m a little early, but I didn’t want to miss you.”
“Not a problem. We were about to pack up. Just let me grab my purse.”
“Laurent, I see you’ve found our farmers market.”
He turned around at the familiar voice as Raji, Mr. Patel’s youngest son, greeted him. Laurent didn’t know why, but he hadn’t expected to see him away from the hotel. They exchanged handshakes. A beautiful Indian woman stood beside him, smiling. “Don’t tell me you sell vegetables, too?” Laurent asked.
Raji laughed. “No, but we do frequent the market. My wife likes to cook with fresh vegetables. This is my wife, Charmi.”
Laurent nodded, and she nodded in exchange. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“So, what brings you to the market this morning?” Raji asked.
“I’m waiting for a friend. We’re going to do a little sightseeing.”
Raji grinned and nodded. “That’s nice.”
Laurent noticed him glancing toward the Coleman House truck.
“Miss Tracee is your friend?” Raji asked.
“Yes, she’s my new friend, and my Danville tour guide.”
“So, where are you two off to today?” he asked.
Laurent glanced over at Tracee. “I’m not sure yet. But I’m sure it will be something interesting.”
“Well, you have beautiful weather for a tour. Enjoy your day.”
“I will. You do the same.” Laurent watched Raji and his wife as they strolled away.
“Okay, I’m ready,” Tracee said as she walked up.
“Where are we off to?” Laurent asked.
“Yesterday I spoke to a member of the African American Historical Society who’s going to be our guide for a brief tour of the African American business district and a few other historical landmarks I thought you might be interested in.” Tracee looked down at her watch. “We’re meeting him at the visitor’s center in fifteen minutes.”
“Sounds interesting. Have you taken the tour before?” Laurent asked.
Tracee shook her head. “No, believe it or not. I know Danville has an interesting African American history, but I’ve never felt compelled to take the tour. I guess I’ll be learning right along with you.”
Laurent was looking forward to his day with Tracee whether he learned anything to benefit him with the hotel deal or not. “Who knows—maybe before the day is over we’ll teach each other something.”
She smiled up at him in a way that weakened his knees, and he knew he was going to be in trouble today.
Chapter 8
After the African American historical tour, Laurent had gained more respect for the town of Danville, Kentucky. He’d learned some things that would serve as a marketing tool for him if they purchased the Rival Hotel.
“That was an amazing tour and a nice way to start the day,” Laurent said to Tracee after they dropped off their tour guide and prepared for the next stop.
“It was, wasn’t it? I’m surprised. To tell you the truth, I thought it was going to be a little boring, like yesterday, but it wasn’t.”
“Learning about your own culture’s past is never boring,” he said. “So, where to next?”
“You can’t come to Kentucky without having a horse-related experience, so I’m taking you horseback riding.”
Laurent’s eyes widened. “I’ve never been horseback riding.”
“Well, you know what they say—there’s a first time for everything. Come on, it’s just a short ride up the road.”
He was beginning to like this woman, but he didn’t know if he liked her enough to climb on the back of some smelly horse. “You know, when I think of Kentucky I think of horses, but betting on them instead of riding atop one.”
“Riding is better than betting, trust me. You never went horseback riding when you were young?” she asked.
“No, I didn’t.” The closest he’d come to a horse was dropping stacks of money at Belmont Park, a major Thoroughbred horse-racing track in New York, with a group of friends.
“Then this is going to be fun.”
“If you say so.”
On the way to the stables, they stopped at a farm-to-table restaurant for a quick lunch. Once they were back on the road, Laurent removed one hand from the steering wheel and placed it over his chest. “I know the tour’s not over yet, but I want to say thank you. Your tour has turned into the best part of my trip. Who would have thought I’d find a beautiful woman to show me around and make me feel so welcome? I’m really enjoying your company.” He glanced at her, watching her blush, before placing his hand back on the wheel.
“You might want to hold your compliments until after the horseback ride. If you’ve never ridden before, you might be walking a little bowlegged later.”
He laughed, but she was the only person he wanted to see walking bowlegged. And he wanted to be the reason for that new stroll.
He drove the thirty minutes to the riding stables envisioning large stinky horses shooing flies with their tails and ears. Instead, he encountered a nice, clean stable with nothing but healthy-looking horses. He still wasn’t sure this was something he wanted to do, but he was following Tracee’s lead, and he’d enjoyed himself so far. Tracee introduced him to the woman who owned the stables, and she gave him a little tour of the facility before introducing him to his horse. A sickening feeling bubbled up in Laurent’s stomach when the horse threw his head back and seemed to laugh at him.
“You’re not scared, are you?” Tracee asked.
Laurent snorted and shook his head. “Of course not. I’m game for anything. Let’s go.” After a little instruction from the owner, Laurent stepped up onto the platform, hooked his foot into the stirrup and then swung his other leg over his horse.
“Okay, this here’s Chester, and he’s happy to meet y
ou. Hold on to the reins there.” The owner made sure Laurent was positioned correctly before she walked away.
Tracee and her horse trotted over to Laurent. Chester turned slightly to greet his buddy, and Laurent tightened his legs around the horse as he felt himself falling forward.
“You can sit up and relax. He’s not gonna throw you,” Tracee said as she and her horse circled around Laurent.
He inched himself up straighter but didn’t like the feeling one bit.
Tracee laughed. “If you could see your face right now.”
The instructor tapped Laurent on the knee. “You might want to ease up on your grip there, buddy. Your leg muscles will be sore for days gripping like that.”
Laurent looked at Tracee and shook his head. He loosened his tense leg muscles. “Why did I let you talk me into this?”
“Oh, come on, I thought you were game for anything?”
His eyes widened. “So did I, until now.”
Finally, they set off on a nice stroll following one of the young guides. Old Chester trotted right next to Tracee’s horse, which Laurent was thankful for. Getting the hang of holding the reins and staying in the saddle wasn’t really that difficult. After a few minutes, he fell into a steady rhythm.
“Did you grow up around horses?” Laurent asked Tracee once he could concentrate on something other than not falling off the horse.
“No, but my dad did, so he took us riding a couple of times a year.”
Laurent enjoyed the view as they trotted along and he learned more about Tracee and her upbringing. Unfortunately, the saddle didn’t get any more comfortable, and the smell of the horses as they used the open-air restroom made things worse. Chester had a fondness for grass, but the instructor asked Laurent not to let him eat grass. How he was supposed to keep this thousand-pound animal from doing so she didn’t say.
As they headed back to the stable, the horses got a little happy and trotted over to the platform. Laurent didn’t know what happened next, but Chester overshot the platform and kept going. He tried to stop him by pulling back on the reins, which obviously wasn’t the thing to do. He could hear Tracee yelling his name and see the instructor running to catch up with him, but Chester had a mind of his own and tried to stand up on his hind legs.
