Misters of Love: A Small Town Romance Boxset

by Piper Sullivan

  “She’ll be fine. Pregnant women have been living lives since the beginning of time, despite overprotective fathers-to-be.”

  “What’s wrong with being overprotective?” Derek popped up with Max and Calista on either side of him, a wide grin spread across his face.

  “Nothing at all, unless you’re trying to stifle the woman.” Eddy cast a quick glance at me. “Nate here is just regular overprotective, but I imagine a doctor like you…” She shook her head and whistled, sharing a knowing look with Max. “He’s going to be a handful when you start growing your family.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Max agreed with a shake of her head and an affectionate smile.

  I couldn’t help but look around at the other hometown heroes, the ones helping with the cook-off and the lucky bastards who’d managed to escape duty today. Our lives were so much different than they were a year ago. Mine as much as anyone’s—and, somehow, four sneaky old ladies were behind it all.

  Somehow.

  “Whatcha makin’, Eddy?” Calista stood on her tiptoes, trying to get a look at whatever the woman stacked in a deep casserole dish.

  “Nacho lasagna. It’s my specialty. The secret ingredient is jalapeño peppers!” She winked at the little girl’s wide-eyed stare.

  “I love nachos,” she said with the same reverence typically reserved for rock stars and royalty.

  “Save some room for a slice and I’ll save you a piece for later. Promise.” Eddy was crafty, knowing her dish would force all the parents to her table, likely winning her a big block of the town vote.

  “Good luck, Eddy. Nate. I need to get to my table, since Stevie roped me into selling baked goods today.”

  “Save me three of those chocolate chip cashew squares. Those things are better than s-e-x.”

  I gave Max and Derek a look that said, see what I have to put up with. Neither gave me the expected sympathy, instead I got laughter.

  Some friends.

  “One hour until judging begins!” Nina’s voice sounded across the PA system, sending all the matchmakers into a frenzy—including Eddy.

  “All right, shove off kiddies. Time for Eddy to get serious here,” she said, already half-distracted by her new time constraints.

  “I’m rooting for you, Eddy,” Max said and shuffled off, Derek and Calista following at a more relaxed pace.

  The day was well and truly underway—which meant it was almost over.

  Stevie

  The morning of the cook-off arrived far too early, and that was with me getting up even earlier to give every detail one final check. Main Street was peacefully silent, allowing me to get lost in my thoughts while checking things off the list automatically. Then again, the silence gave me too much time to think. To overthink and over-analyze my reaction to what should have been one of the most romantic days of my life.

  Scott had proposed. He wanted to marry me, to spend the rest of his life me and to have babies. With me.

  It was good news. Great news, even. But my answer, or rather my non-answer, hadn’t reflected any of that. I was shocked all the way down to my core, rooted in my seat in silent shock. Emphasis on silent. That’s right, I had said nothing.

  Mortifying, right?

  That was how I felt all day, and walking through the cook-off grounds on Main Street, that mortification intensified as the moment replayed in my mind, over and over and over again. I couldn’t stop the loop no matter what I did or what I said.

  The only thing that could have pulled me from that endless vicious cycle was the familiar scent of barbecue. Reese’s barbecue, specifically. Her tent was nearby and not empty. I frowned and walked over. “Hey. I thought you were doing something easy?”

  “I am.” She shrugged, as if the racks of meat were hotdogs and hamburgers. “Just ribs and burgers with four different sauces.”

  “I hope I make it back to try the new ones,” I told her sincerely. “It sounds like your sauce business is really taking off?”

  “More than I ever thought possible,” she shot back with a tired but satisfied smile.

  “I’m happy for you, Reese.”

  “Thanks. But it sounds like you’re not happy about… something?” She wasn’t fishing—it wasn’t her style—but she was offering an ear, which I could use. “Want to talk about it?”

  It was the last thing I wanted to think about, never mind talk about, but Reese was an impartial ear and she’d been through this. If anyone had advice for me, it would be her. I nodded and told her about the romantic proposal. “I just sat there, like an idiot. A mute idiot.”

  Instead of the laughing and ridicule I’d been prepared to accept as my due, Reese offered up nothing but sympathy. And questions. “So, you don’t want to marry Scott?”

  “I do,” I insisted, because it was important to me that everyone knew it wasn’t about him. Or my lack of feelings for him. “I was just, I don’t know, genuinely surprised, I guess.” I shook my head, trying to make sense of things. “I figured he was the kind of guy who’d have to be dragged to the altar, kicking and screaming.”

  “Scott Henderson, why? That guy was born a husband and dad.” She laughed at her own joke, slowly turning the meat and slathering it with sauce. “My advice is to give him an answer in a big damn way. One that’ll make him forget that you left him hanging last night.”

  I’d planned to give him an answer today, but Reese was right. Scott had gone all out, hiring Maxine to cook for us and setting the whole scene up for an unforgettable proposal.

  I owed him at least that much.

  “You’re right. Got any ideas?”

  Reese smiled at me over her shoulder. “About barbecues sauce, sure. Anything else and I’m completely out of my depth. So much that I went to Rafe for romance advice. Rafe,” she said again, just to clarify how wrong she was for the job.

  “Fine. Thanks,” I told her, and finished my walkthrough just in time for vendors to show up and get ready for the day.

  Soon, the air filled with the scent of all kinds of food, reminding me that, other than coffee, my stomach was completely empty. I’d skipped breakfast knowing I would be expected to taste each of the casseroles offered up for judging, but the scents were overwhelming.

  Either that or nerves were eating me up from the inside out. I shook off that idea, because I didn’t have time for a nervous breakdown. So far, the event had gone off without any problems and the end was near—I planned to keep it that way.

  The cook-off contestants took up the most prominent block of tents, three one side and three on the other since the twins had insisted on competing separately. “Smells like someone burnt their garlic,” Elizabeth said, loud enough for the other women to hear.

  “Isn’t that the key ingredient in your famous sauce?” Betty’s question was posed innocently enough, but the smirk she wore ruined the entire effect.

  Elizabeth sucked in an outraged breath, ready to unleash a tirade. Instead, she smiled. “Browned garlic,” she emphasized. “But how can I expect you to know the difference when your breads always contain too much baking soda.”

  It was like alternate-universe old-lady bake-off version of yo mama jokes. I shook my head, enjoying the banter as I checked to make sure each tent contained one chef and a backup option. “How are we doing, ladies?”

  “Excellent,” Eddy assured me. “Other than some good-natured ribbing, we’re all getting ready for judgment. Lord help us all,” she joked, earning a laugh from the other women.

  “Everything smells delicious. Just remember to plate everything with a smile and I’ll handle the ballots.”

  “Got it,” they each called out one by one.

  I spotted Scott walking with Mikki, his hand not on her back but hovering there carefully, just in case she needed him. My heart squeezed so hard I couldn’t breathe for a second.

  That moment, that gesture, summed up Scott so perfectly.

  He was the guy who was always there, never bossing you around or telling you what to do. Wel
l, almost never. But the point was that Scott was a natural father and husband because he had the uncanny ability to put others first. To guide you toward the right path without being overbearing about it. He was a good man. He was my man, and he wanted to spend his life with me.

  Big gesture. That was what Reese had recommended, and I knew exactly when to take my moment.

  Anxiety turned to nausea as I gathered the judges’ ballots from Mayor Leland, Walker, and Big Mama before Bo, Hope, and the other volunteers handed over final counts for the crowd votes. I was a ball of nerves for the next ten minutes while I handwrote the last part of my speech, talking up the winning casserole.

  As the mayor spoke, I was sure I would toss my cookies. When he introduced me, I thought my legs might give out before I made it to the raised platform quickly set up by Tulip FD. “And the woman responsible for yet another day of fun in the town of Tulip, Stevie Maddox.”

  My legs were shaky as I walked up and gripped the podium with the Tulip town seal on it, clutching it for dear life. “Th-thanks Mayor Ashford, for MC-ing the invent in the most creative way possible. Let’s give the mayor a hand for lending his voice to today’s proceedings!” The town loved the man and had no problem showing it when asked, no matter how much he pretended to hate it.

  The man glowed and took his seat with the other judges, face flushed with satisfaction.

  I managed to thank everyone for showing up, including the cook-off contestants and vendors. “Without your help, today wouldn’t have been such a big success. We raised a lot of money that will help town programs in need of funding, so thanks to every last one of you here today.” My heart slowed as I grew more comfortable, but then my gaze landed on Scott’s. He was handsome and proud. And still so damn hurt I wanted to cry. “We have three things to celebrate today. The first is the winner of the first annual Not Your Mama’s Casserole cook-off—winning the most votes from the crowd is Eddy and her nacho lasagna!”

  To say she was shocked would be an understatement, but in true Eddy fashion, she shuffled to the stage with as much flair as possible and thanked everyone in town. By name. “To those of you who doubted me, expect a casserole on your doorstep sometime this week.”

  When the crowd quieted, I stepped forward again. “Thanks, Eddy, colorful as always. Now, the second thing we have to celebrate is the casserole the judges voted as best of the bunch. The judges’ favorite dish was Portuguese Breakfast Pie, made by Elizabeth Vargas!”

  She sauntered to the stage and I prepared myself for another long speech, but Elizabeth surprised me by stepping up to the mic with a sly smile. “Thanks for your vote but I’m sure, like me, the rest of you are just dying to know the third thing we’re celebrating today.”

  And just like that, my heart sank to my gut as nerves took over. Elizabeth stepped to the side and gave me a nod of encouragement, which I was sure I’d appreciate. Later. “Thanks for that,” I whispered.

  “Anytime.”

  “Well, nothing puts a girl on the spot quite like a meddling cook-off winner, right?” The crowd laughed and that lessened my stress by half. “The third thing we’re here to celebrate is something a little more personal—it is my… engagement. To Scott Henderson.” The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, and my heart stilled at Scott’s stoic expression. I knew what I need to do.

  “I love you, Scotty, so much, and last night, you shocked me. You really shocked me,” I said on a breathless laugh. “I’m sorry about how I responded—or didn’t respond—last night, but I wasn’t sure I would make a good wife for you.”

  “We’ve talked about this,” his deep voice boomed from the back, coming closer and closer to the podium, his gait matching my racing heart.

  “Yeah, we have,” I sighed. “And it’s not you, it’s me. Ironic, I know, but it’s true. I didn’t say you thought so, just that I wasn’t sure I’m doctor’s wife material.”

  “You are,” he assured me, now just five feet from the podium.

  “I know, but sometimes I’m stupid and you still love me, anyway. How can I not say yes to a man that amazing? How could I not shout it from the rooftops that I love you and want to be your wife?” I jumped off the platform and stopped right in front of Scott, holding his face in my hands. “When he looks like you do, I’d have to be a fool to say anything but yes, yes, yes, a million times over. Yes, Scott, I will be your wife.”

  I held my breath as he dug into his pocket and pulled out the ring. It was simple and beautiful, with intricate carvings between the yellow and white diamonds. “Glad to hear it.”

  “Happier to say it. To have this be my reality. I love you, Scotty.”

  He grinned and pulled me into his arms, kissing me soundly while the whole town cheered us on. “I love you, too, Stevie.”

  Life had never been more interesting since I moved to Tulip, Texas—and life was good.

  It was damn good.

  THE END

  Ready for more Small Town Romance stories from Tulip?

  Then check out the excerpt from my newest release, One Hot Night.

  This story features Janey & Rafe.

  Preview: That Hot Night

  Janey

  Janey the photographer. Janey the Mayor’s niece. That’s me.

  The girl most likely to volunteer for…well, everything. That’s me.

  And that’s how I ended up in my birthday suit in a hotel room with the guy most likely to…never commit.

  Rafe is Gorgeous. Kind. Heroic.

  He is also highly allergic to commitment.

  So, of course that’s exactly who I went and fell for.

  Not just a little bit either, no siree!

  All head over heels and everything.

  Rafe

  I’ve known Janey my whole life, the bossy girl next door.

  Always with her face hidden behind a camera.

  Until one hot night, when I finally saw her. In a red dress.

  She hypnotized me. Mesmerized me.

  Opened my eyes to Janey, the woman.

  And now that I’ve had a taste of her, nothing will ever be the same.

  Not me.

  And certainly not this thing between us.

  Janey

  “Everything is fine here Janey, and it will be even better with you gone for a few days.” Eddy’s sarcasm wasn’t lost on me, but she was a friend of sorts, more like a naughty grandma, so I held my tongue.

  “Then why did you call me Eddy?” She was an older woman, probably in her sixties, but she was sharper than most people half her age, so I knew she was up to something. The question was, what? “Well?”

  She sighed down the line, and a small smile curled my lips for the first time since the plane landed in Santa Fe. “I just wanted you to know that if you find yourself in trouble or in need of company, Rafe is in the area for a Firefighters Convention. Can you imagine, a whole room or a whole convention center filled with firefighters of all ages? I wish I was in your shoes honey.”

  I waited a few more seconds just to be sure Eddy was done talking while I searched my mind for an answer. “I won’t be in trouble or in need of company Eddy. There’re plenty of photographers here. You know, the reason I’m here in the first place?”

  Eddy huffed out her displeasure, just in case I had any doubts how she felt about photography. “I still don’t understand why you can’t just buy your equipment online like everyone else, and who needs to hear some fancy picture taker drone on and on about composition and aperture?”

  “Somebody’s been reading up on photography,” I teased.

  “Gotta make sure our resident artiste doesn’t up and leave us for the big city.”

  As if that would ever happen. Tulip was my home, where I was born and raised, and I always knew I wanted to live there. Work there. Get married someday and raise my kids there too. Photography gave me a way to support myself without going too far from home, at least not too often.

  “I’m just here to learn Eddy, and to connect with others in
my field.” It was kind of sweet, her concern.

  “If you say so,” her tone was thick with skepticism.

  “As long as you don’t tie me up in your matchmaking schemes, I’ll stay right where I am.” The truth was, I wouldn’t mind being matched, if it was the right guy. The problem was, I knew all the guys in Tulip, had grown up with most of them, and even the hot ones weren’t what I was looking for in a husband.

  “Maybe we won’t need to match you, ask Rafe to introduce you to some of his firefighter friends.”

  “Eddy,” I laughed. “Don’t you have a fake book club to attend or something?”

  She giggled. “Tell Rafe I said hello.”

  “Tell him yourself,” I told her. “I don’t imagine we’ll cross paths at all this weekend.” She laughed until the call simply ended. That was Eddy for you, crazy and crafty all rolled into one pint-sized package.

  And I’m sure the entire reason for her call was to let me know Rafe was also in Santa Fe. As if I didn’t know that already. And I knew because Betty Kemp had told me when she dropped me at the airport. I knew I should have been suspicious when she volunteered for the job. Elizabeth Vargas had casually dropped the same info when she offered to feed my pet turtle, Stromboli. It seemed that the fire chief’s travel habits were of great concern to the matchmakers. Maybe they figured I knew a sexy photographer to hook him up with, someone who shot artistic nudes and maybe even did a few of herself.

  I knew for a fact they weren’t trying to match Rafe with me. Not because I’m some bridge-dwelling troll or anything, I’m not. I know what I look like, and it’s a look best described as cute enough. My thick black hair that only stayed straight for about two hours each day was the most noticeable thing about me. My green eyes weren’t bad, but they were usually hidden behind a camera or my beloved tortoise shell eyeglasses. My body was petite, as in short, not as in tiny. Short and cushy. The dimple in my right cheek could be considered cute, but rarely hot, and never ever, sexy.