A Very Merry Match--Includes a Bonus Novella

by Melinda Curtis

  “I saw him coming out of Prestige Salon with Barb the other day.” Clarice dipped her chin in the white foam. “They were doing the head nod and hug, as if they’d made plans to meet. If David’s interested in a younger woman—and we all know older men usually are—why wouldn’t we see if there are sparks between Mary Margaret and David?”

  Bitsy picked up her teacup and tried to hide a smile, gosh darn her.

  Mims and Edith stared at each other, neither one willing to admit they had David in their own gun sights.

  “Edith.” The tall man who’d paid her cover last night captured her hand and brought it to his lips. “I’ve been meaning to ask you to share a drink with me.” His blue eyes were full of masculine appreciation. “I noticed you like piña coladas.”

  Edith held her breath and then…giggled. She’d had one last night.

  “Who is he?” Clarice asked, loud enough for the man to hear.

  Bitsy and Mims shrugged, perplexed looks on their faces.

  “My apologies, beautiful ladies.” He bowed slightly. “My name is Francisco but my friends call me Paco.”

  “I thought you were Laurel and…” Edith turned to look at the other man, as short as Paco was tall. “Oh, I see. It’s one of Mary Margaret’s jokes.”

  “You didn’t give me an answer, sweet one.” Paco’s eyes sparkled like sapphires.

  “Isn’t he a little young for you?” Clarice asked, wiping her chin again.

  Edith hesitated. Mary Margaret had cautioned her against playing the field. But David seemed to be dividing up his eggs by the retirement home busload. And then there was Mary Margaret, who needed backup on the job.

  On the job? Hot diggity.

  Paco was one of those feds who’d put Mary Margaret undercover at the dance club.

  “Yes, I’d love to have that drink with you. At our usual place?” She’d pack one of Mims’s handguns just in case things got ugly at the Hanky Panky. Of course she’d have to swipe one first.

  “The usual place?” Mims’s eyes bugged.

  “The usual place isn’t open tonight, sweet one. Shall we say Tuesday?”

  Edith nodded.

  “I’ll pick you up at your house at nine.”

  “Nine p.m.?” Mims couldn’t believe it.

  “I look forward to it.” Edith extended her hand to Paco for another kiss.

  He obliged, leaving Edith feeling like the cat’s meow.

  There was no way the board was stripping her of her vice presidency now. She was a woman of mystery. And enigmatic females were powerful beings to be reckoned with.

  * * *

  “Hey.” Kevin stood on Maggie’s stoop, unable to stop staring.

  Her hair was gathered over one shoulder. Red curls tumbled in one unruly wave that led his eye over gentle curves beneath a pea green turtleneck and black leggings.

  He was speechless because she was beautiful. And he was speechless because he didn’t want to say anything to scare her off. Things weren’t going as he’d planned.

  “I want to be clear.” Maggie met his gaze squarely. “This doesn’t qualify as a date since Tad is along.” And then she stepped out, locking the door behind her.

  Now Kevin couldn’t say anything. He walked her to the SUV and opened the door for her.

  She climbed in and he closed the door, trying to walk to his side as if this was no big deal.

  “Where’s Tad?” she asked before he’d climbed behind the wheel.

  “Yeah, about that…” Kevin sat next to her, scratching the stubble on his chin. This close, he could smell her flowery perfume. “Tad got an offer to go to the movies with his very good ninja friends, Jose and Eric. I was disinvited. And if I can’t go…”

  Maggie crossed her arms and gave him a look of disapproval she’d probably perfected as a teacher.

  Unlike at his interview with his political party, he refused to crack. “I thought I’d take you somewhere we can talk without being interrupted.” So he could understand why she seemed to like him but didn’t want to date him. He wanted to tell her about mentioning her to Paul and Paula during his preliminary interview. And he’d love a second chance at a kiss.

  “If you say your place”—her blue eyes flashed a warning—“I’m jumping out now.”

  “Not my place.” He started the engine.

  “Okay, but…” Maggie seemed relieved, although still hesitant. “Not anywhere in town.”

  “You want to sneak around with the dangerous mayor?” he teased as he backed out of her driveway. “I like the sound of that.”

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  “I have an idea or two.” When he had the SUV in gear, he took her hand, learning the texture of her smooth skin with his thumb. “I have two lattes in my center console and some sugar cookies from Olde Time Bakery in the back.” Because he knew how much she liked caffeine and sweets.

  She stared at their hands but didn’t pull away. “I’m listening.”

  “I want to take you somewhere important to me.” A place he rarely visited anymore. “And then we’ll talk and drink coffee like civilized couples who live in towns where few people know their true identities.”

  “Incognito,” Maggie murmured, smiling but holding her neck stiffly.

  “You have a kink in your neck. How did that happen?”

  “How does any muscle strain happen? You move cold muscles too fast.” Maggie sank back against the leather seat and closed her eyes. “Wake me up when we get there.”

  “Hey.” He gently shook her hand. “We’re on a date. You should be talking to me.”

  “You tricked me.” Maggie didn’t open her eyes but her lips turned upward. “I was planning on napping during the movie but I need to steal a couple z’s now. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “If I did, you’d only have me drive you home.”

  “Smart man. You’ll probably make something of yourself someday, like mayor.”

  He grinned, taking the back streets. It wasn’t long before he parked behind a large building south of the convenience store.

  Maggie opened her eyes and glanced around. “I thought we were taking a drive out into the wilderness, like to Saddle Horn Pass or something.” It had a romantic lookout.

  He took her assumption as a positive.

  “This is Hadley Furniture.” He’d parked in one of the delivery bays in the back of the warehouse.

  “And we’re here because…”

  “I’ll show you.” He got out, making sure to bring the coffee and cookies.

  Once they were inside, he turned the warehouse lights on. There were several workstations throughout this end of the building with couches, chairs, tables, and headboards in various states of finish.

  “This is the end of the line.” He took a newspaper and laid it on a walnut coffee table before setting the coffee and cookies on top. “This is where all the finished furniture sits before it gets shipped out or put on the showroom floor.” He offered her a seat on a loveseat with burgundy flowered cushions.

  Maggie looked around. “Did you ever work here?”

  “Yeah. When I was a kid, I came here after school and cleaned up the work areas.” He’d come home with wood shavings in his hair and upholstery strings on his clothing, so proud of his contribution to the family business. “But my dad and grandfather…They were ecstatic to have me here. They’d bring me in on weekends and teach me how to run the saws and the lathes.” He ran a hand over the beveled edge of the coffee table. “I liked it but I loved driving the forklift better. I was operating the heavy equipment before I could legally drive.” And then after his grandfather had died, he’d fallen in love with sports and his work at the shop diminished.

  Maggie chose a plain, round sugar cookie, one without holiday embellishments, and settled back against the cushion. “When was the last time you made a piece of furniture?”

  “I made a crib for Tad.” His throat threatened to close the way it always did when he thought about his little guy
. “I built it out of ash. It’s a sturdy wood. And sometimes…More often lately, I lie awake at night thinking about making a piece of furniture again. Maybe a bunk bed…” His voice trailed off.

  “Kids love bunk beds. Do you think Tad could help?” She catalogued his expression. “What’s wrong?”

  “The problem is…I don’t think I’m going to have time.” He explained about his opportunity at the state level of politics.

  Maggie chewed her cookie, working her neck and shoulder between bites, occasionally flinching. “You’re going places. Don’t forget folks in Sunshine when you serve in Washington.”

  Kevin was reminded of the party’s implication that he’d need to establish two households. He stared at his parents’ offices, frowning.

  She sipped her coffee, studying him intently. “I can tell you’re worried about something. Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind? Maybe I can help.”

  “It’s just…” What would it hurt to tell her? “When I was growing up, my dad and grandfather missed out on a lot of my games because they were here. Working. If I’m lucky enough to achieve office at a higher level, I’m going to miss out on some of Tad’s milestones.”

  “Isn’t that the dilemma all working parents face?” Maggie rolled her head in a circle. “Don’t all dreams come at a cost?”

  “Is it wrong to want it all?” Kevin set down his coffee. “Turn around. Let me work the kinks out.”

  Maggie hesitated before putting her back toward him and turning the cowl of her turtleneck up toward her hairline. “Okay but keep a layer of turtleneck between us, because you’re—”

  “Dangerous. Yes, I know.” He placed his palms on her shoulders and worked his thumbs in the muscles between her shoulder blades and her neck.

  “Gosh, that feels good.” Her head lolled forward and she sighed. “Would it be the end of the world if you stayed here and were mayor for twenty years or so? Would you consider yourself a failure if you turned down the opportunity?”

  His gut clenched. His fingers stilled. “You mean quit?”

  “I mean choose.” With her chin to her chest, her voice was muffled.

  “Everyone expects me to move on, even my father.” Even if his father didn’t want him to go. He blew out a breath, which happened—completely by accident—to waft over her neck.

  She made a soft mewling sound.

  He found that kink and kneaded it ruthlessly.

  Maggie groaned. “Oh, yeah. Right there.”

  It was all Kevin could do not to draw Maggie back into his lap and kiss her objections to a relationship away.

  Somehow, she still had the ability to speak, even if he didn’t. “So what you’re saying is you don’t want the town to see you as a failure. This is where Ms. Sneed, kindergarten teacher, would tell you that what matters is inside you, not what others see. What is it you hope to get out of higher office?”

  “I want to make a difference in people’s lives.” Kevin cleared his throat, trying to sound like a man who wasn’t dying with desire. “I want someone to say it all started here.”

  “You want to live forever,” she teased.

  “Nobody ever said going down in history as a positive game changer was a bad thing.”

  She made a noncommittal noise.

  “Let’s say I do serve in Denver, first as a state representative and later as governor.” He wanted to knock wood but that would mean taking his hands off her. And that wasn’t happening. “I want to prove I’m more than a Hadley from Sunshine, that I can succeed outside this small town. Would that work for you?”

  Maggie drew a breath and straightened, rolling her shoulders. “I’d vote for you if that’s what you mean.”

  “That’s not what I mean.” Kevin sat back and gave in to temptation, easing her head into his lap so he could stare down into her eyes. “I mean…” He couldn’t explain. He had to show her.

  Lifting her head, Kevin bent down to kiss her. Sideways. It was nothing like their first aborted kiss. This time there was heat and longing. Her arms came up around his neck, drawing him closer.

  Sideways.

  It should have been awkward.

  It should have been uncomfortable.

  But sideways worked. And why not? Sideways was his life. Nothing was in alignment. Not his career, not his future, not his love life.

  And in that moment, he liked it like that.

  * * *

  There’d been moments in Mary Margaret’s adult life where she’d felt like everything was right with her world.

  The joy of dancing on the stage. The pride of supporting herself through college as a dancer. The early years of her marriage to Derek, when just being with him had filled her with happiness. The hour she’d spent in Kevin’s arms this afternoon, so languid and at peace she’d forgotten the debt hanging over her head.

  She lay on her couch staring at the Christmas tree Kevin had given her. It was a lovely little tree, subtly bringing cheer and the smell of Christmas to her home, much as Kevin’s presence tried to bring warmth and joy to her heart.

  Mary Margaret knew this window of everything being right in her world would close, just as surely as the Christmas tree would shrivel and die.

  She’d learned to take what life offered because there was no guarantee happiness would last. In the case of Kevin, there was no guarantee that love would last. He needed to decide on a career path. If he ran for state representative, he’d have no time for a small-town teacher, much less the inclination to love her.

  But she loved him.

  The thought wrapped tightly around her chest. It should have inspired anxiety—that wrong-place, wrong-time, gut-churning feeling that doom was about to strike. Instead, it held her still, as if her very heart wanted to revel in this moment before it disappeared.

  I love Kevin.

  She loved his touch, his tenderness, and the passion in his kiss. She loved his commitment to the community, his willingness to volunteer, the way Tad meant the world to him. She loved that they’d grown up along parallel paths but in different universes—he in a small town with great expectations in him, she in a small ministry with great strictures placed on her. She loved that he was willing to put on a Santa suit so that children wouldn’t be disappointed.

  She couldn’t ask to love a better man. But she’d never ask for him to love her.

  Mary Margaret flopped onto her back, letting her arm fall out to the side where it banged into a cardboard box. This one was filled with Christmas decorations. She rolled back over and sat up. She might not feel so melancholy if she put an ornament on the tree. One ornament, not several. She opened the box. A photo sat on top of a package of red glass ornaments. It was a picture of Derek after his last round of chemo, sitting on the quad and wearing a broad grin. He was bald, practically toothless, his face swollen from the drugs he’d been taking to keep him alive. Mary Margaret couldn’t help smiling back.

  Her gaze went to their wedding photograph on the wall. A stranger might have had trouble recognizing Derek in both pictures. She didn’t. The smile was the same. The joy was the same.

  Her love for him was the same.

  Oh, Derek.

  She ran a finger over the picture of Derek and the quad. He’d lived life on his terms, making mistakes but making apologies as well. He’d suffered enough in life. She was letting go of all his recently discovered baggage so he could be at peace in the afterlife.

  Someone knocked on her front door.

  Mary Margaret’s heart raced. “Kevin?” She hurried to open the door. But the man standing there didn’t inspire love. She clutched the door handle. “What do you want?”

  Mr. Laurel pushed his way inside and closed the door behind him, red stir stick in his fist, not his mouth. “I don’t have much time. You’re making a big mistake.”

  Mary Margaret’s heart nearly stopped beating. “You’re here to warn me about Mr. Hardy, aren’t you? Do I have time to leave town?” How quickly her world dipped back into dangerou
s territory. “What about my grandmother? Is she safe?”

  “She’s in no danger.” He made a derisive noise. “I’m talking about you dancing.”

  Mary Margaret’s jaw might have dropped to the floor. She took a moment to pick it back up. “I’m dancing because you’re demanding money from me.”

  “Listen. I hear people talk around town. Tradesmen stopping at the convenience store or the burger place. Guys at the bar. Women at the dentist’s office and salon.” Mr. Laurel touched his graying hair, which appeared to be freshly cut. “And there’s buzz building about a dance club in Greeley. This isn’t Miami with thousands of places to choose from for entertainment. Just on the way over here, I heard some teenagers talking about using their fake I.D.s to get into the Hanky Panky.”

  That was just the kind of prank the Bodine twins would pull.

  “Your point?”

  “Somebody is going to put two and two together.” He gestured toward her legs. “Those are kind of unique, you know. You’ll be found out. Quit now before you lose your life here.” He gestured toward the door and downtown. “And that mayor you like so much.”

  Her head spun.

  Somehow, Mary Margaret kept from fainting. “You have to realize what a huge irony it is that you—Mr. Collection Agency—are telling me to stop making the money I need to pay off a debt. If I don’t dance, how am I supposed to pay you?”

  He shrugged and left her.

  Left her with nothing. Nothing but more danger and more risk.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I don’t like gingerbread.” Tad slumped over his gingerbread math worksheet. “I like chocolate chip cookies.”

  It was mere minutes before the end of a long day. In addition to teaching Monday through Friday, Mary Margaret was dancing five nights a week, Tuesday through Saturday. Her neck was still bothering her, and all she wanted to do was go home, nap, and try to ignore Mr. Laurel’s warning.

  She had two choices. Let Tad’s remark slide and release the class to gather their things and bundle up. Or use this as a teaching moment. Responsibility tugged at her conscience. “Class, Tad brings up an interesting point. Do you remember our discussion about friends?”