Sweet Valentine
A Montana Matchmakers Short Story
Reina M. Williams
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to places, establishments, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental and the work of the author’s imagination.
Copyright © 2020 Reina M. Williams
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First Digital Edition/January 2020
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Chapter One
Nora sipped the bitter dregs of her coffee then cleaned the cup and set it on the counter to wait for tomorrow. Stretching, she glanced out the wide window of their new, but as yet unopened, bakery in Loving, Montana. It had been another long day of accounting, paperwork, and helping set up the space with her cousin and sister. While she was grateful to be here, las tres hermanas reunited, and to have a new business to help run, to be near Cutler Manning opened still-healing wounds. With his family ranch less than two hours outside of town—and her cousin now dating one of his younger brothers—meetings were inevitable. Meetings she’d dreamt of, and feared, for twelve years. Shaking her head, she refocused on the view, rather than the flickering memories.
The streetlights outside the building cast pools of low light into the room, filtering through the red and white Valentine’s Day decorations Nora’s sister had insisted on plastering onto the front window. Nora ignored the soft light, and the conflicting feelings this holiday caused, and studied the frozen landscape. Branches reached out to the darkness, evergreens looming in the distance, a hulking mass dotted with white that sent a shiver along her neck.
She rubbed the spot, easing a stray lock of hair behind her ear as Mamá used to when Nora was young. Squeezing her eyes shut, she centered in the love, letting the grief ache, an old injury exposed to cold. Except it also carried with it the newer pain of Papá’s death last year. With a sigh, she glanced around, making sure she was ready to go home. Her cold-weather outerwear sat in a neat pile on a nearby table, waiting. It was still full-blown winter here, and the frost began to settle on the windows. Much different than back home in southern Arizona. She hugged her arms around her waist.
If only Cutler were here, hugging her, both of them cozy against the winter chill. But he’d left all those years ago. She’d learned to comfort herself. A shadowed figure knocked on the front door, making her start.
He walked in, unraveling his scarf and pulling off his hat. Cutler. His strong hands ran through his thick, dark hair, smoothing it back. His eyes glittered with some special knowledge. And he did have special knowledge, of her. She shook her head.
“We’re not open, and I’ve got to get home before the storm gets worse.” She picked up her coat and slid it on.
“Nora, good to see you too,” he said, his dry tone another reminder of the past. “How have you been?”
“Fine. Not much different than last week, Cutler.” She stepped back, almost pressing into the table edge. His heat seemed to wrap around her, and she needed the chill of distance.
They’d met again, something she’d dreaded—and anticipated—for twelve years, and they’d been coolly polite to each other. He’d said on that first meeting: “Friends, right?” following up that non-question with his most winning grin. The grin she’d seen him use that same day on the waitresses at Gallagher’s Café when he flirted with them. That wasn’t the sting of jealousy she felt, though. That was from the cold seeping in. She couldn’t be jealous; she and Cutler were just friends now.
“I’m different.” His low, intent tone caused her to look up at him.
She met his gaze, which seared into her with as much heat as when they’d been two teenagers in the throes of first love. Wrapping on her scarf, she tried to protect herself from the warmth he caused, from him. “Are you? Meet someone?”
“Why would you say that?” He stepped closer.
She had nowhere else to back up, so she stood tall and steeled herself. She could face Cutler Manning. So what if he was her first love. He’d left her, and she’d told him to go. Now they were just two adults who’d once shared a dream. That dream of a shared life was dead. She was used to such loss.
“Nora, what makes you think I met someone?” He was less than a foot away now.
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Just let it go.”
“You know I don’t give up that easily, sweetheart.”
“I’m not your sweetheart.”
“You’re the only sweetheart I’ve ever had.”
Her mouth twisted in a grimace. “Sure, and I’m the pope.” He’d left her, and he hadn’t been celibate, that was a certainty.
“Have you been, then?” He eased closer, that provocative twinkle in his eye taunting her, teasing her.
Her cheeks flamed, along with some other parts of her she needed to stay cold. “I’ve got things to do.”
“Please, Nora, give me a chance. I know I said just friends. But you’ve always been my sweetheart. Just one date. Will you go out with me?”
A laugh, choked and tight, escaped her. “Why would I want to do that?”
He moved a millimeter closer. “Why wouldn’t you?”
Unfortunately, she could think of several reasons to enjoy his company. He knew how to have fun, and in his strong arms, she’d always felt safe and loved. Problem was, she’d decided twelve years ago they weren’t right for each other, and he’d agreed in his silence, in his leaving. And in the years of silence between them since. That was what she needed to think about.
“I had to leave back then, Nora. We were so young, and you deserved better than what I could give you. And you told me to go. I wanted you to be happy. But you’re not with anyone either. Dean told me. Now I can give you everything, anything you want and need. I want to see if it’s still like it was between us. You’re the one who got away.”
“You’re the one who left, Cutler.” She stepped toward the side and walked forward.
“Because you told me to. But it was wrong of me to leave without a goodbye. I just knew I’d probably change my mind if I saw you again.”
She flexed her hands into her gloves. Maybe she shouldn’t have listened to her aunt, who’d persuaded her to break off her engagement to Cutler. She shook her head. No, they’d been too young, only seventeen and eighteen. And she’d been so in love with him. That kind of love was too risky, too impulsive.
Now, his words wound around her, drawing her to him as if he’d wrapped her in his arms and held her close. She could almost taste his scent, cloves and cinnamon and some savory manliness.
She couldn’t afford to take a risk, not now, when her life had been upended, again. “Please leave, Cutler.”
“Nora... What if I donate twenty thousand dollars to the charity of your choice, just for one night with you?”
She frowned at him, her lips tight as her arms. “I’m not some...some...”
“Now, sweetheart, just for your ti
me. Not anything physical.”
She flattened like a used moving box. He must remember how she’d been involved in local charities, and managed her father’s philanthropy. “No touching? Twenty thousand?”
“Yes, and yes. Any touching will need to be your idea.” His eyes sparkled again before he appeared thoughtful. “Arizona Community Foundation?”
He did remember. “Fine.” She balanced from heel to heel, needing something to do, a distraction.
“Still mad at us for ribbing Dean?” Seemed he was changing the subject.
He’d been such a jerk to his younger brother when they’d been at her family ranch for that year so long ago. “So, everything is about your family? And, it went past ribbing, didn’t it?” Anger was a distraction... But with Cutler, it was often an aphrodisiac as well.
“He knows we’ve got his back. There’s not much room for art in this world, when you have to survive.”
“You need art—creativity—to survive.”
“You and your notions, Nora.” He smiled indulgently.
She wanted to ground a slice of pie into that pleased, patronizing smile. Problem was, she’d done that once, and ended up kissing the remnants of the pie off his face.
“Don’t make me regret my choice.” She slung her structured tote over her shoulder.
“You won’t.”
“Still as cocky as ever.” She pushed away thoughts of their young love. She was not going there, and not anywhere near him. Except she was.
He chuckled and shrugged, his gaze flicking over her body.
She willed herself to stay still, even though it was as if his eyes shot heated bursts at each point they flickered on. So much for being just friends. This could be a disaster. She needed to keep their relationship, not that they had one, amicable, for her cousin Maya’s sake. And for Dean’s sake. The two had found a second chance, together, and Nora didn’t want anything to interfere with that.
“If I were that arrogant, why would I have left you? I was only eighteen back then. What did I know about love and marriage?”
“No more than I did,” she said quietly.
“But we both knew we loved each other.”
She couldn’t meet his gaze. Being that girl again, who’d loved and been loved by Cutler Manning, wasn’t possible. A woman now, a practical businesswoman: that’s who she was. Where could his love have a place in her life?
“We were just teenagers.” She’d decided to leave love to Ana. Her sister was all about love. Unlike Nora, who’d resigned herself to the life of a knitting auntie—not that she was yet—by night, a businesswoman by day. Why, at nearly thirty, should she change that?
“Now we’re not,” he said. “Now I know I want another chance with you. I know what we had was special, not just puppy love, as you put it in your letter.”
His slightly bitter tone made her look up. But instead of anger, all she saw in his gaze was sadness and tenderness. He swallowed and glanced away. He was right, he wasn’t as confident and arrogant as she painted him.
“You still remember that letter?” Her aunt had helped her write it. Nora had missed a mother’s guidance, as her own had died when Nora was a little girl.
He touched a spot above his heart and nodded with a shrug.
“I... I don’t want anyone to be hurt. We need to keep this between us. Maya and Dean just got together, and I don’t want any conflict between us to affect them.”
“Point taken. Tomorrow night. Eight o’clock.” His smile reappeared.
“All right. I was just going.” She moved toward the door and waved. He reached out, grasped her hand, and touched his lips to her fingers. Even with her gloves on, his touch caused a delicious heat to roll through her.
He quirked his lips and strode out. She groaned and shook her body, to try and loosen the heat, the grip of his gaze, his smiles. No way was she falling for Cutler Manning again.
Chapter Two
Cutler pulled up to Dean’s girlfriend’s house just before eight. He let out a breath. Nora wouldn’t give him another chance after this, not unless he could convince her they were good together. Or, knowing Nora, she already knew. She’d always been the smartest, and the kindest. Not that he’d admit it. Not in so many words.
And she was the most beautiful too. Mostly because of her intelligence and kindness, her inner light, as her dad used to say. He’d taken Cutler under his proverbial wing, teaching him about his ranching techniques, how to think creatively, and welcoming him into his family. A family Cutler had hoped to really be a part of. He’d fallen hard for seventeen-year-old Nora, who’d roped him with her sharp wit and soft caring of her sister and father. He was a good one, Enrique Delgado, gone too soon.
Cutler tightened his hands together, as close to a prayer as he came anymore. He hadn’t been there for Nora when she’d lost her champion, her dad. He, Cutler Manning, should have been her champion. Instead, he’d broken her heart. And she his. He touched the spot near his heart where the ring he’d bought her twelve years ago rested. He wore it always, to remind him of her, and of what he’d lost. And the fool he’d been, to leave Nora, who he’d promised one starry February night in the desert, with the dry winds swirling around them, that he’d never leave her.
He would do whatever he could to fix the mistake he’d made.
All right, enough with the thinking. He swung from the car into the cold February air. Did Nora remember how special this night was? He rubbed his hands together. This night had a lot riding on it. But he loved taking big risks—they could have the best payoffs.
He knocked firmly on the door. And waited. No response. Lights were on inside, though, and he knew Maya was at Dean’s house this weekend, so it wasn’t her. And family friend Mrs. G had Nora’s sister over at her house. He knocked again.
“All right,” a voice called from somewhere in the house.
The cold air pressed in on him.
The door opened a crack. “Oh, it’s you,” Nora said.
“Of course. Let me in, will you? It’s freezing.”
She moved aside and he stepped in, shutting the door quickly behind him. He faced her and his brows shot up. Whoa, she was a sight to see in her long red robe.
“You had something else in mind for this evening?” He cocked one brow and winked. “I’m good with that sort of plan.” He reached for her robe, but only one finger grazed the soft fabric before she waved away his hand and cut him a look that said “back off.” So he did.
“You’re early.” She moved toward the hall stairs.
“Only a few minutes, sweetheart.”
Her dark hair tumbled over her slim shoulders. With a tug, she tightened her robe. He stifled his chuckle. Did she think he’d pull off the garment? She should know him better than that. Despite being labelled a charmer, he knew how to be a gentleman. He shifted on his feet; his humor leaked out. She hadn’t seen him in twelve years, and he’d left in a cruel way, without a word of acknowledgement or goodbye, so she didn’t know.
“I’m running a few minutes late.”
He tamped down the words of disagreement, the tease, at least for the moment. Until he gained some hint of her trust. Because not teasing Nora, who gave as good as she got, wouldn’t work. He’d missed that as much as her sweet kisses and kind words, her gentle caresses and her warm embraces. Hell, he’d missed her. Just her. What an idiot he’d been.
“Be right down.”
“Take your time. You’re worth any wait.”
“Oh, yeah? You just figure that out?” she said over her shoulder as she glided upstairs.
“I figured it the moment I left. But my hard head wouldn’t let me go back. And there was your letter...”
She stopped and faced him, hands planted on her hips. Her robe parted slightly, giving him a flash of creamy calf. “A letter written by a girl. I’m a woman now.” Her words held a hint of challenge.
He grinned. He had wooing to do. And she had to make the first move. He’d promised that, in
so many words.
“I’m a smart man now, despite the fool boy I was. I find the best of everything, and the best is you.”
She rolled her eyes, but a smile curved her pouty lips. “And some wonder why you’re known as ‘those arrogant Manning brothers.’” She climbed the stairs.
He watched her curved rear sway under the bright fabric. He blew out a breath. Well, what did he expect? Not only was Nora the love of his life, but she had always been able to tease him.
He stretched and ambled absently around the ground floor. Maya seemed like an organized, tidy person, though he could see some of Nora’s disarray in the pile of magazines on the coffee table, and the blanket thrown aside on the sofa, while the one on the large padded chair was folded neatly.
He liked Nora’s touch of untidiness. It hinted at the impulsive side of her that she rarely showed. She appeared so put together, and her look was pristine, as she and her workshop had been at her family’s ranch. But her room, that had been messy. Like her hair got when they used to kiss for what seemed like hours under the star-dotted Arizona sky... He crossed his arms and tensed his legs.
None of that. Not now.
How was he going to convince Nora they were meant to be?
He shook his head. He couldn’t, that was just it. He could only do all he could to both remind her of how good they used to be together, and what they could have together now.
“Here I am.”
He turned and swallowed, hard. Whoa, she was beautiful. Hair up, a little black dress that showed her smooth neck, giving way to a ruffled skirt that displayed her long legs. Legs that should be pressed to his as they embraced.
“Lovely,” he breathed out.
“Thanks.” He could see she tried to hide her smile, but it was there in the sparkle of her gaze, and the slight tug at the corners of her red lips.
Her high heels clicked on the hardwood floor. She slid on her coat, turned away from him. Shaking himself mentally, he walked forward. He should’ve helped her with her jacket, but he’d been too stunned by her beauty.
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