“So, based on Tina’s comment and now Nancy’s, I’m assuming that these stress fractures of yours had something to do with your sudden change in career and subsequent move back to town?”
She avoided his gaze and skewered a few green beans. “That’s a fair assumption.”
Damn. Given the amount of dedication and discipline required for that kind of career, he couldn’t begin to imagine what she was feeling. But he knew that disappointed was barely the tip of the iceberg. He frowned. “I’m sorry, Veda.”
She looked up at him then and a sad smile shaped her lips. “I am, too,” she said, heaving a small sigh. “But life goes on. Not in the way I’d originally, painstakingly planned it, but in a new direction.” She swallowed. “I won’t lie and say that I wasn’t initially devastated, because I was.” A tiny frown marred her brow. “Heartbroken, too, because I’d dedicated so much of my life to the ballet. But then I heard about your mom selling the studio and, though I’d never had any desire to teach, I suddenly wanted it. Needed it.” She shrugged. “And here I am.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you’ll make a wonderful teacher.” He grimaced. “Certainly a nicer one than my mother ever was.”
Veda chuckled. “Your mother was an excellent teacher. Strict, yes. Critical, definitely, and occasionally quite mean. But still very good.”
“That’s just a polite way of saying she was an autocratic maniacal bitch.”
Her eyes widened and she choked on her drink. “Bear.”
“You’re just too nice to say it,” he told her, peering at her above his fork. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re wrong,” she said, eyes twinkling. “You left out selfish.”
“Ah, how could I have left out selfish?” he asked, laughing softly. He, more than anyone else, knew just how selfish she was.
She sobered a bit, seemed to be looking at something he couldn’t see. “But she was still a good teacher. I wouldn’t have had the skill to make it as far as I did without her and I’ll always be grateful to her for that.”
Well, if that ended up being his mother’s only good deed—however inadvertently—at least it had been to Veda’s benefit. That was something at least.
“Do you really think you’re going to like it here?”
Instead of patronizing him with a quick yes, she considered his answer for a minute. “Yes, I do,” she finally told him. “It’s going to require some adjustment, but Hydrangea is home, after all. And I do love the girls.”
“But…” he prodded.
She smiled at him and looked away. “What makes you think there’s a but?”
He waited, shot her a knowing look.
She sighed and her gaze tangled with his once more. “But…I will miss performing.”
“Of course, you will,” he said, as though it were a foregone conclusion.
She winced. “You don’t think that makes me vain?”
Bear felt his eyes widen. “Why the hell would it make you vain? You trained to perform. Performing was the goal.”
She stilled for a moment, and a slow-dawning smile broke across her lips. “You’re right,” she said, as though he’d just answered one of the many questions of the universe. “I’d never thought of it that way.”
He grunted, unreasonably pleased. “You should have asked a man. Men are typically more logical than women.”
She gasped, then wadded her napkin and threw it at him. “Smart-ass.”
“Careful,” he warned. “I’m the smart-ass who’s completing the repairs on your new home and studio.”
Her smile dimmed a little and became more sympathetic. “I’m really sorry about that,” she said. “Had I known she was going to rope you into renovating for free, I would have asked for a local contractor.”
“What?” he teased. “And miss the chance to be your pretend boyfriend?” He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You didn’t know she was going to Paris, did you?”
He glanced up at her. “What gave it away? My slack-jawed expression when I saw her haul her luggage down the stairs?”
Her expression darkened. “That was shitty.”
He grinned without humor. “That’s my mother. My expectations aren’t very high.”
“Nevertheless, it’s not like you come home—or can come home—that often. She shouldn’t have asked you to do the work for her and she damned sure shouldn’t have left it with you the way she did.” Veda scowled. “I’m sure you could have spent the time doing something you actually wanted to do.” She glanced at him again, still adorably outraged on his behalf. “I’m truly grateful, Bear, even if she’s not, and I am more than willing to help in any way I can. I’ve got classes during the day, but my evenings are free.”
Strictly speaking, he didn’t really need the help, but the company would be nice.
Especially hers.
He nodded. “I’d appreciate it, thanks.”
He let his gaze drift over her face once more, noting the sleek slope of her pale brows, the especially curly lashes framing her pretty green eyes, the plump ripeness of her bottom lip, and felt his groin tighten, his palms itch with the need to feel her skin beneath his hand.
She blushed beneath his stare, a rosy-pink that made her skin glow, and fidgeted with a ring she wore on her right hand. She looked away and cleared her throat. “Speaking of the repairs,” she said. “Thankfully, your mother took better care of the studio than she did the loft, so the work that needs to be done downstairs can wait until the end of the week. If it’s all right with you, I’ll probably go ahead and start moving some furniture and things in as you finish.”
“Of course,” he said. His mother might have left him a bed, but not much else. There wasn’t so much as a chair in the apartment. As a matter of fact, if Veda wanted him to take things a room at a time so that she could actually go ahead and start moving in a little every day, he was fine with that. “I’ll focus on one room at a time during the day and we can move your stuff in at night.”
She hummed under her breath, considering the suggestion, and then smiled. “If you’re sure it’s not going to get in your way, I’d love to do that. And I really don’t have all that much, so…”
“Why don’t I start with the kitchen and living room?” he suggested. “I’ll paint both those rooms first thing in the morning, then fix the leak under the sink and take the doors off the kitchen cabinets like you asked.” He quirked a brow. “Do you want to keep those?”
“I’d better,” she said after a moment’s pause. “I don’t anticipate going anywhere anytime soon, but if I ever sell the place, the new owners will probably want them. It’s an idiosyncrasy of mine. I just like being able to see exactly what I have. It also forces me to be neat, which is a good thing.”
He’d noticed that when he’d gone into the studio. His mother’s desk had always been cluttered with papers, various hairpins and ribbons. Veda’s had been tidy, everything stowed in little mesh trays, a vase of calla lilies on the side.
“Have you picked out all of your paint?”
She nodded once. “I have. Harris has everything waiting for me at the hardware store.”
The bell over the door chimed, signaling a new customer. Or in this case, customers—Tina and Mandy walked in and took the booth directly across the aisle from them. They both smiled at him and barely glanced in Veda’s direction. For reasons that escaped him, their blatant disregard of her infuriated him to no end. It made him want to haul her across the table and kiss the hell out of her again, if for no other reason than to prove to them that she mattered, that he preferred Veda’s company to theirs.
From the corner of his eye he saw both waitresses in a hushed argument. Then Nancy pulled out a coin and tossed it into the air. He chuckled under his breath and signaled Veda to look with a significant jerk of his head. She did and then laughed softly.
Her eyes twinkled. “Can’t say that I blame them for that.”
He couldn’t, either.
It was Nancy who lost the toss and reluctantly made her way toward the table. Bear quirked a brow. “You about ready?”
At her nod, he dropped enough cash to cover the bill—and a sizable tip for Nancy in thanks for all those extra helpings over the years—onto the table, then slid out of the booth and offered Veda his hand. Hers felt so small in his, so delicate, and another wave of possessiveness washed through him.
“Have I ever mentioned that you’re gorgeous?” he asked her, low enough to sound intimate, but loud enough to make sure that their audience heard him. “Because you are, you know.”
Veda started a bit at the unexpected compliment. She momentarily froze, darted a look at the women behind him, then found his gaze again and a knowing smile just shy of smug bloomed over her lips. “You might have mentioned it before, but it’s one of those things a girl never gets tired of hearing, so thank you.”
He threaded his fingers through hers and gave a squeeze. “You’re welcome.” Whistling tunelessly, he followed her out the door, then drew her to him and dropped another kiss on her lips. “Just so we’re clear, that wasn’t just for their benefit,” he said. “I meant it.”
And he did.
6
“VEDA GRACE, OPEN THE DOOR. It’s your mother.”
As if anyone else ever called her Veda Grace. Or would have had the nerve to knock on her door at—she cast a bleary eye at the clock on the microwave as she shuffled through the kitchen—six-thirty in the morning.
She groaned.
Odette fluffed her feathers behind her drape and squawked in protest at the disturbance. “My feet are killing me,” she said in her high-pitched voice. “It’s hell gettin’ old.”
With an impending sense of doom and another mental hack at the imaginary umbilical cord her mother couldn’t seem to sever, Veda braced herself for an onslaught of questions and unlocked the door. Her mother blinked her perfectly mascara’d lashes at her daughter’s unkempt state and tsked lamentably. “Goodness, dear, you’d frighten the warts off a toad with that hair. You really need to take the time to brush it out before you go to bed.”
Perfectly put together as always—expertly styled hair, flawless makeup, iron creases along her sleeves and pants—her mother followed her into the house. Much to her mother’s chagrin, Veda hadn’t inherited her attention to detail when it came to her personal appearance. No, she wasn’t one of those people who wore pajamas to the grocery store, but still, she didn’t consider makeup a prerequisite for leaving the house, either.
“I shower in the mornings,” Veda said, turning around and backtracking into the kitchen. She could tell that this talk was going to require caffeine.
“Your father and I held dinner for you last night, but you never came home,” she said lightly, about as subtle as a sledgehammer, as usual.
Veda filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove. “Mom, I’ve told y’all not to do that. I am perfectly capable of feeding myself.” Hell, it’s not as if she was a giant baby bird, waiting in the nest with her mouth open. She was an adult who was perfectly capable of making her own food, or buying it prepared, if need be.
“We enjoy sharing meals with you,” her mother said. “A call would have been appreciated. I’d invited that nice Kenny Watkins over for dinner. It was quite awkward when you didn’t show up.”
Veda pulled a couple of mugs down from the shelf and popped a tea bag into each one. She waited on her eye to stop twitching before she turned to glare at her mother. “It wasn’t awkward for me,” she said. “Because I’m not the one who invited him.”
Her mother scowled and looked away. “Imagine my surprise then this morning, when I ran into Nancy Jenkins on my walk and she tells me that you were at the diner with Bear Midwinter. She said she’d heard you and Bear had seen each other while you were in New York and that y’all appeared to be ‘rekindling your romance’ while he was in town.” She looked expectantly at Veda, her brows climbing her forehead. “I’d had no idea that you’d ever had a romance at all, much less one that you were interested in rekindling.”
Guilt pricked at her conscience, taking a bit of the wind out of her self-righteous sails. Her mother, in her own misguided, unwanted way, was trying to help her. Bear’s mother hadn’t seen him in years and instead of using his leave as an opportunity to spend some time with her son, she’d left him to go to Paris. She really needed to be more appreciative, Veda thought.
She handed her mother a cup of tea. “It was brief,” she said, hating to lie, but left with little choice at this point. She knew the gossip vine in Hydrangea was well and thriving, but she’d expected to have a little more time.
“But you never said a word,” she said. She rolled her eyes and snorted indelicately. “And given the crush you had on that boy, I would have thought that anything with Bear would have been something you’d have shared, brief or not.”
Veda felt her cheeks burn. “You knew?”
Her mother smiled knowingly. “The various Veda loves Bear, VH and BM and Veda Midwinter scribbles all over your notebooks gave you away,” she said, hiding a little grin behind her teacup. “He was always a nice boy. Smart, thoughtful, responsible.” She tsked. “A credit to his mother, though her raising couldn’t have been what produced that character. I know that you cared for her, Veda, but she was truly a horrible woman.” She frowned. “I’ve never met a more selfish person in my life.”
It was true that Veda had loved Celeste when she’d been a girl. And, as she’d told Bear, she knew that she wouldn’t have made it as far as she had along her original career path had it not been for his mother. But watching her yesterday—seeing her blatant disregard for her son—had triggered a dislike and disgust for her former instructor the likes of which she’d never known, and an ache for Bear that made her heart hurt.
He deserved so much better.
“So it’s true then?” her mother asked. “You’re seeing him?”
Veda nodded. In for a penny, in for a pound. And though she knew it wasn’t real, it was still a dream come true. How could she pass up this opportunity? Especially when he looked at her the way he had last night, as though he really did think she was gorgeous, as if he really wanted to kiss her.
Her mother’s expression remained neutral, but a flash of something—disappointment, maybe?—momentarily lit her gaze and she took another sip of her tea.
Veda didn’t know what sort of reaction she’d expected, but this certainly wasn’t it. “I thought you’d be pleased,” she said. “You’ve been parading every single Tom, Dick and Harry in front of me since I got here.”
“I do want you to date,” she said.
Ah… It was who she was dating that her mother didn’t approve of. Irritation spiked and she felt her eyes widen. “I thought you liked Bear. Only a moment ago you were talking about how wonderful he was.” She didn’t understand it. “How can you not like Bear?”
Her mother heaved a sigh. “Oh, do calm down, Veda. It’s not that I don’t like Bear—I do. I think he’s a very fine young man with lots of admirable qualities.”
“But…?” she prompted.
Her mother smiled sadly, her eyes soft with concern. “But he’s a soldier, Veda. A Ranger. Career military. And he’s only here for the week. My concern is what’s going to happen at the end of it.”
“Mom, I—”
Her mother silenced her with a look. “I know how you felt about that boy, Veda. I know that you were heartbroken when he left. I watched you pine for him for years after that departure.” She glanced meaningfully at the ring on her finger and arched a knowing brow. “I understand that you eventually dated other guys and have had the odd boyfriend or two, but you’ve never let it get serious. The moment someone started to care too much, you ended the relationship. You’ll argue that you’re an adult with adult feelings and that you know what you’re doing and nobody hopes more than I do that you’re right. But I think you need to consider the consequences if you’re wrong.” She paused, her gaze
turning inward as she looked at something Veda couldn’t see. “Every girl has a first love story, a first crush. But Bear Midwinter was more than that to you.” Her gaze found Veda’s once more. “It was real for you. And if it was real then, I can only imagine what it will be to you now.” Her mother reached across the bar and smoothed the hair away from Veda’s face, a familiar gesture. “Please tread carefully.”
Stunned at her mother’s insight—she’d understood much more than Veda had ever given her credit for—she released a shaky breath and lied again.
“I will.”
Odette squawked again. “If you’ve ever woken up with a black eye and a hickey…you might be a redneck.”
Never more thankful for one of Odette’s ill-timed Jeff Foxworthy impressions, Veda giggled.
Her mother rolled her eyes, then gathered her purse and headed for the door. “That bird needs to learn some new jokes.”
“It could have been worse,” Veda told her. “That barber could have been an Eddie Murphy fan.”
Her mother stopped short, her hand on the knob, and gave a little shudder. “Heaven forbid. Dinner will be ready at a quarter after six,” she said briskly. “I’ll set a place for Bear.”
“What? I—” The door shut on her protest.
Oh, hell.
* * *
EMMALINE HAYES walked through her kitchen directly into her husband’s arms, choking back a sob as tears burned the backs of her lids. “Oh, Redmond, we’re too late. It’s all true. I’d hoped, but— She’s seeing him.”
She felt him sigh, his big chest deflating under her cheek as he stroked her back. “Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think,” he said. “She’s older now. She’s not a young impressionable girl.”
Emmaline drew back and swept a tear from beneath her eye. “No, she’s not. She’s an adult who has never quite gotten over him. And now he’s here and interested in her. You saw the look on her face when we told her Bear was coming back, that he’d be the one working on the place.” She swallowed hard, then stepped away from him. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the latest batch of batter for the fried contest out of the fridge, then turned the heat on beneath the oil. “He’ll just leave again, and then what will happen to our girl? I want her to settle down, to have a home and family, to love someone who loves her back, to have what we have.” She shrugged into her apron and tied it around her waist. “I thought when she moved back home that the natural order of things would take their course, but—”
Blazing Bedtime Stories, Volume VII: The Steadfast Hot SoldierWild Thing Page 4
