Merrick looked around the nearly empty bar. He wasn’t usually a day drinker, but after dropping Deanna off, he headed straight for Bishop’s Brewhouse. The silent drive back gnawed at his insides. He wanted to ask her so many things, like why he wasn’t enough, but he stayed quiet and sulked all the way home while she stared out the window. Even Sherman picked up on the mood and refused a pet when they arrived. The scrawny poodle ran past him and straight to the door.
He and Doc were the only patrons, but in a few hours, it would be bustling with every off-work resident and the crews in town working diligently to remodel or rebuild the derelict houses left behind. Right now, it smelled like lemon oil and pine cleaner, but by six, it would be a mix of sweat, spilled beer, and cologne. That was probably why Doc was here now.
“I think I owe you one anyway,” Merrick said as he slid over several stools to take a seat next to Doc.
“I believe you do.” Doc crumbled up his half-played tic-tac-toe game and tossed the wadded napkin toward the trash can but missed and ended up hitting Mike, Cannon’s one-eyed cat, instead. Mike didn’t seem fazed. He stayed right where he was on the back counter, swishing his tail like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Doc lifted his hand and turned over an imaginary sign. “The Doc is in. Tell me what’s on your mind, son.”
“Nothing, really.”
Doc shook his head. Those bushy brows of his lifted like wings, ready to take flight. “Lying to yourself is useless. You’ve got the greatest bullshit detector inside you. It’s called a conscience. Not everyone has one, but you do.”
“How do you know?”
“I got a glimpse of it during our last counseling session.”
“Is this what we’re calling these impromptu meetings?”
Doc chuckled. “We’re not dating, so what else would you call it?”
Merrick lifted his beer and took two gulps. “It’s Deanna.”
The older man stared at his beer for several long seconds. “I told you before, women don’t bring you peace, son, they bring you everything else from happiness to hurt but rarely peace.”
“That you did.”
“You like the girl?”
“I liked her then, although, I didn’t know her well, but I’ve been lucky enough to spend some time with her, and she’s amazing.”
Doc narrowed his eyes. “When you say spend some time with her, are you talking long walks around the lake or a short tumble between the sheets? I hear you youngsters have some three-date rule.”
Didn’t his mother say something similar? “Doc, I’m not going to kiss and tell.”
“I respect that.” Doc took a sip of his beer and licked the foam from his lip. “What’s the rush? You ever have a Thanksgiving dinner, and you rushed through the main course to get to the pumpkin pie.” He smoothed his mustache with his thumb and index finger. “I prefer apple, but that’s not what we’re talking about.”
“What are we talking about?”
“We’re discussing the importance of taking your time to enjoy all the flavors. Savor each dish a woman serves you—a walk in the park is the appetizer. Then you have to work your way through the stuffing and green bean casserole and sweet potato bake. You move on to the mashed potatoes and gravy, the cranberry sauce, the turkey, and the hot cross buns. You cherish each bite like it’s a destination all on its own. Sometimes it’s better to sit back and wait for dessert. That’s all I’m saying.”
He understood exactly what Doc meant. Back in his day, they wooed a woman. Nowadays, there was this need for instant gratification.
“Do you think she regretted indulging in dessert first?”
“Son, I’ve got no idea. What about you? Do you have regrets?”
He found his head nodding before his brain even processed the question. “I do. Not because I didn’t enjoy the decadence, but because … I wasn’t the dessert she was craving.”
“Still that Red fellow, huh?”
He nodded and sat there without saying a word for several minutes. It was in the silence that the weight of the loss got heavy.
“Are you the fish or the pole? The fox or the rabbit?”
Memories of their first conversation came flooding back, and he had to wonder if he’d approached this whole thing wrong. What Deanna wanted was for someone to want her. She hated that Red didn’t pursue her.
“I made a big mistake, Doc.”
“We all do, son. We all do. That’s how we grow. The question is, what did you learn from it?”
He emptied his mug. “I need to be the fisherman and not the fish.” Merrick slapped a twenty on the table. “I’ve got to go. My tackle box needs some upgrades.”
“Pay careful attention to the bait, son. Don’t offer something amazing if you can’t sustain it.”
“Right.” Walking away, energy rippled through his cells. A rush of adrenaline spiked in his blood. He wasn’t a damn fish, but last night when he made love to Deanna, it was she who threw the line and bait into the water. He was hooked and reeled in. While he loved that she wanted him, he needed her to want only him.
He stepped into the sunshine and felt its warmth on his face. He’d done a lot wrong with Deanna. She was a woman worth fighting for, and nobody, to his knowledge, had, and that was going to change.
She might think she wanted Red, but he’d prove to her that he wasn’t the full meal she needed. He wasn’t even dessert. Red was an appetizer and a poor one at that. He was the flavorless garnish that always got left on the plate.
On his way home, he considered all the ways someone could show affection. Sure, there were flowers and candy and nights out on the town, but those left with the wilting of a daisy, the consumption of the candy, and the time since the last date. He needed to do something big. Something that would remind her daily that he would be there fighting for her.
He pulled into his driveway and looked at his garden. It was a source of pride and made his house look like a home. He recalled Deanna telling him her house was an eyesore. He couldn’t restore her old money pit, but he could make it welcoming. If he split the plants that were overgrowing in his yard like daylilies and irises, he wouldn’t have to pick up too much.
When he moved in, he at least had a garden to work with. Deanna had a patch of dead grass and weeds. Though it was fall and the fruits of his labor wouldn’t be fully realized until spring, he knew he could make a difference.
His first call was to the only man in town who had a green thumb, his boss, Aiden.
“Sheriff Cooper, how can I help you?” Aiden answered.
“Hey Coop, it’s Merrick. Do you still have those perennials you offered me when I moved in?” Aiden was a gardener at heart and planted and tilled from the first sign of spring until the frost hardened the ground, or so he was told. He grew the best tomatoes, the biggest zucchini, and if his daughter, Kellyn, was right, a pumpkin large enough to turn into a carriage. He mentally crossed his fingers and hoped the answer was yes.
“I’ve got tons of sedum, a few lavender plants I can spare, and a couple of salvias. Are you expanding your yard?”
“Nope, I’m being neighborly. Deanna’s yard is barren, and I thought if I could plant some things into the ground now, they’d have time to establish roots before the first frost.”
“It’s pushing it, but as long as you amend the soil and make sure they get water during the months we lack precipitation, then I think it can work. How about I bring what I have by later? You want me to drop it off at your house or hers?”
“Mine. This is a surprise.”
“Things going well in that department?”
“Nope, not really, so I’m going with a different approach.”
Aiden chuckled. “I won Marina over by transforming her garden overnight. I waited until she and Kellyn went to bed, and then I went to work. When she woke up, everything had changed.”
Could everything change? “You’re an inspiration.”
“I’m a lovesick fool.” In th
e background, the squeak of Aiden’s chair filled the air. “It’s never too late to be kind. What I’ve found is if you make people feel love, they give love.”
That was the universal truth to everything. Reap what you sow, and tomorrow, while she was at work, he would sow irises and daylilies and sedum into the soil and hopefully plant himself in Deanna’s good graces.
As he pulled out a pad of paper and a pen to sketch out a plan, a seed of doubt tried to sprout. Was this all for nothing?
He buried that thought. Even if his actions didn’t move their friendship forward, Deanna was part of Aspen Cove, and the community motto was: “This is Aspen Cove, and we take care of our own.”
Chapter Sixteen
The mockups of the covers were on the third round. There was always someone who didn’t like something. While Samantha was sweet and friendly, she was often too accommodating. Why wouldn’t she be? A failed plan didn’t create more work for her.
Deanna hated the bitterness that was seeping into the crevices of her life. She grabbed her keys and walked to the door.
“Behave yourself,” she told Sherman. While she usually took him with her, she feared that if he tried to bite Red, she wouldn’t stop him. She was tempted to sprinkle him with bacon fat to entice Sherman. Nothing good could come out of that.
Most of the day was eaten up by her trip to Copper Creek to pick up the proofs delivered later than she anticipated. She made the return drive to the Guild Creative Center and parked in the back. In the parking lot, Sosie Grant was unloading blank canvases from the back of Baxter’s truck.
“I’ll get the door,” Deanna said and rushed ahead to open it for the artist. “How are you?”
Sosie smiled. She had that look of bliss about her. It was an ethereal glow that seemed to float around her like a halo.
“I’m good but busy. It seems as if everyone wants a Sosie Grant original these days. It’s always feast or famine, isn’t it? One day you have it all, and the next, you’ve got nothing.” She giggled. “Right now, I have it all, and I’m willing to make a deal with the Devil to keep it.”
Deanna knew she was joking about the deal with the Devil. “I don’t want it all. I just want some of it.” She had no idea what the feast part of feast or famine looked like unless it was an overindulgence in Hostess pies. “A little piece of good would satisfy me.”
Sosie wheeled the cart past her and into the hallway. “Not true. It’s like having one potato chip. You lie to yourself and say you’ll only eat one, but that single bite is never enough, and before you know it, you hate yourself because you ate the whole bag.”
“But what if you’re only offered a single chip?”
Sosie laughed, “The one thing I’ve learned from losing my sight and getting it back is that until you can satisfy yourself, be truly happy with you, no one will be able to offer you enough.” She unlocked her studio door and pushed the cart of canvases inside. “However, if someone offers you less than what you want … move on. You deserve to have everything you want and need from a relationship.” She parked the cart and faced Deanna. “We were talking about men, right?”
“You’re far too intuitive, and that was solid advice.” It was what her brain had been telling her all day. She needed to focus on her needs for once. Define what she wanted from herself and a relationship. “Do you need help with anything?” She looked at the mockups in her hand. “I can drop these off and be back in a few.”
Sosie shook her head. “Nope, I appreciate you opening the door. There are times when I think having more than two hands would be wise.”
“Wouldn’t that be awesome?” As she walked down the hallway to the recording studio, she passed the other artists’ spaces. There was a welder who created unique metal art. She was Baxter’s sister and Dalton’s cousin. One unit was rented to a sculptor, but, to her knowledge, he hadn’t been in town for a while. The gallery was filled with Poppy Bancroft’s photos of the residents. They were how Deanna put the names to the faces.
She moved past Dalton’s Culinary Kitchen and took in the smell of pasta sauce. She loved the days when Dalton cooked spaghetti. He made it from Roma tomatoes and fresh spices. Nothing honestly tasted as good as his sauce over pasta and served with a side of meatballs.
She stuck her head in the door and found him at the prep table. “I’ll take a pint of sauce and the rest of whatever you’re making.”
He nodded. “I already put you down for a hefty helping. Will you have company?” He lifted a brow.
“Nope, I’m solo for a while.”
“That’s too bad. I thought things were going well with you and—”
“I’m done with Red.”
Dalton snapped his head back like she’d slapped him. “I was going to say Merrick. You and Red?” He shook his head. “I don’t see that happening.”
“Your vision is twenty-twenty. It isn’t happening.” She lifted the artwork. “I got to go piss people off.” She knew she was in for another round of complaints and wasn’t in the mood.
“I’ll have your dinner waiting for when you leave.”
“You’re the best.”
“I keep telling Samantha that. I’ve almost got her believing it.”
Deanna rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. That girl is head over stilettos for you.”
“It’s because I can cook.”
“You got a brother?” She pushed off the door and walked away before he could answer. She already knew he was an only child.
At the end of the hallway was the recording studio. As she walked in, she heard the familiar bass of “Another One Bites the Dust.” Maybe that should be her theme song.
“Hey,” Samantha walked over and hugged her. “Did you get the cover art back?”
“I did.” She held out the mockups. “Before you show everyone, I wanted to say that you’re the boss, so in the end, it’s your choice.”
Samantha smiled. “I know, but I like it when everyone is on the same page.”
Samantha didn’t like conflict. She wasn’t afraid to address it, but that didn’t mean she had to deal with it.
“Okay, all I’m saying is the artist is ready to toss in the towel, so if we come back with more changes, we’ll probably have to find someone else.”
Samantha frowned. “How many times have we asked for amendments?”
“Gray didn’t like the sun in the background and Red wasn’t fond of the shade of blue.”
“It’s always indigo blue.”
“I know, but he thinks next to the yellow, it’s taking on a different hue. Then he wasn’t a fan of the way your hair blew out and covered their faces, so you chose that picture where you have the high ponytail, but then you were almost as tall as them.”
Samantha laughed. “I’m five foot, nearly nothing. I’d have to be wearing stilts to be that tall.” She took the graphics and headed for the studio. “Okay, I’ve got this.” They walked to the door, but before she opened it, Samantha faced her. “You okay? You seem off. Did something happen with Red again?”
Her face scrunched up the way a kid’s face did when they ate a lemon.
“Nope.”
“Merrick?”
“Geez, you make it sound like I’ve got a reverse harem.”
She laughed. “Well, you do have two of the hottest guys in town fighting for you.”
That was the biggest laugh of all. “No one is fighting for me. There’s no Red or Merrick. I’m an island.”
“No one is ever really an island.” Samantha turned the knob and walked inside. “Look, guys, Deanna brought us the final cover. She’s tired of our bullshit.” Samantha looked at Red when she uttered the last word. “This is it. You love it or leave it.”
She held it up, and everyone nodded but Red.
“It’s still the wrong blue,” he said.
Deanna was fed up with him. She grabbed the closest weapon, which happened to be an empty box from the bakery. She stomped toward Red and hit him over the head with it. “What’
s your problem? Nothing is ever good enough for you. You take and take and never give back. When will your soul-sucking neediness be sated!”
She whacked him once more, then spun around and fled the room.
She was halfway to her car when a hand landed on her shoulder. She turned to find Red behind her.
“Back away, or I might hurt you.”
He rubbed his head. “You already gave me a concussion.”
“Yeah, well, you give me a headache and indigestion.”
“No, that’s from those cherry pies you eat all the time.”
She had no idea he paid attention. “Well, I need one right now. Leave me alone.”
“I don’t know why you’re so mad at me. I thought you liked me.”
She stepped back. “I used to, but you know what? I can’t imagine what I ever saw in you.”
“Are you still with that baboon?”
“Merrick?” She was done with the ruse. “I was never with Merrick. You were right. I used him to make you jealous. He used me to get his mom off his case. She wants a grandkid.”
Red laughed. “I knew it.” He moved a step closer. “How about I get a bottle of wine and come over later?”
“Are you nuts?” She tapped him on his head. “Did someone drop you on your head as a child?” She turned and headed for the back door. “All I wanted was to love you, but love isn’t a one-way road. You don’t need my love when you have the adoration of hundreds of women. Besides, you love yourself enough that you don’t require it from anyone else. But you know what? I need love. I need someone to want me and fight for me. For the first time in a long time, I realize that person will never be you.”
“Oh, come on, Deanna. You knew who I was, and you wanted me anyway.” He followed her to her car.
Beth’s words rang in her head. It’s like taming a wild horse. Few people can do it, but it doesn’t stop you from trying.
One Hundred Mistakes: An Aspen Cove Romance Book 16 Page 10
