Can't Hurry Love

by Melinda Curtis

  “I sense a but coming.”

  The tension returned to his shoulder blades, this time as a knot he had no idea how to unravel. Lola was the type of woman he didn’t want. Impulsive. Controversial. Unpopular. And she’d said she was going to leave town once she had her answers. It made no sense that he wanted to pull her into his lap, wrap his arms around her, and kiss her senseless.

  Well, it would have made perfect sense if Becky were quiet and grounded, like her best friend, Mia, and Jane weren’t coming back to town.

  Lola continued to stare into his eyes. Maybe she expected a kiss. Maybe she just had a way of looking at a man, any man, with an intensity that could be mistaken for interest. Whatever she felt, whatever the reason she looked at him that way, he had no right to mirror that longing back at her.

  It was time he admitted it to himself. He was attracted to Lola. Her wit. Her humor. Her legs. Her kindness.

  She deserves to know why I can’t kiss her.

  The knot in his shoulder blades doubled. Drew didn’t want to tell her. He eased his shoulders back against the wall and stared at the bed.

  Hadn’t he just been thinking that Lola deserved to be treated with more respect? If he didn’t tell her now, she’d know in a few days when Jane returned.

  “I need a wife.” Drew tried to shrug. It felt more like a shudder.

  Lola released his hand. Hers fluttered in the air before she figured out what to do with it. A knee pat (his). A hair pat (hers).

  If only Lola were Wendy, this was where Drew would happily pull her into his lap and kiss her. He’d propose marriage—people were marrying strangers all the time on television. Not that he and Lola were strangers. Because they knew each other, they had a better shot than most. But…

  Not only was Lola not holding his hand, she was scooting back from him.

  Which was good. Excellent, really. He might as well tell her the rest. “I need a wife who’s stable, above reproach, and respected in the community. I don’t know if you’re familiar with Judge Harper but when it comes to family law, give an uncaring ex-wife an inch, and he’ll give her a mile.”

  Lola stared at him as if he’d grown a snout and straggly whiskers. “I didn’t come here tonight to start something with you.”

  “I didn’t say you did.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I wanted you to know why I can’t kiss you again, why even holding your hand is a one-and-done experience.”

  He knew the moment she understood what he was saying—that she wasn’t in the running for the position of wife—by the way her jaw firmed and her eyes took on a chill.

  “Lola—”

  “You need to stop talking. You…You need to stop talking to me.”

  “I’m clearing the air.” Trying to keep himself honest and his hands off her.

  She shook her head. “You’re making yourself feel better, because I’m not good enough to be a pawn you use in some game against your ex-wife. That would be Wendy.” She scrambled to her feet, one hand over her abdomen, halfway between her stomach and her heart. “Wendy, who you treat like a secretary, while you…you kissed me.” She pulled in a deep breath and met his gaze. “Let me make this harder on you. I liked kissing you. I’ve thought about kissing you again.”

  Drew couldn’t help it. He stared at her lips as male pride swelled in his chest.

  “But I can’t change who I am or who people in Sunshine think I am.” She gave him a wide berth as she walked to the door. “And I won’t give in to kissing a man who doesn’t even like me.”

  “I like you,” he said as she walked out the door.

  I like you just the way you are.

  But being a father meant he couldn’t always have what he wanted. Not that second beer at Shaw’s, not dinner without vegetables, and not a caring, vulnerable woman who pushed small-town boundaries in a way that wasn’t the best example for an impressionable little girl.

  Chapter Twenty

  What’s up, Flo?” Drew was making his early morning rounds while Gary walked Rosie.

  “Victor Yates wouldn’t tell me.” On the radio, Flo sounded more than miffed. Drew’s ex-father-in-law rubbed most people the wrong way. “Since it’s not an emergency, take your time.”

  The luxury of time. How Drew wished he had more of it where his personal life was concerned. Time would tell if the town would ever accept Lola as one of their own. And if they did…

  He’d be married to Wendy.

  A few minutes later, Drew climbed the steps to the feedstore. It was a mild sixty degrees, and the double doors were propped open.

  Victor’s sourpuss expression awaited him just inside. “’Bout time you got here.” His ex-father-in-law was a tall, rangy man who didn’t fill out his blue coveralls.

  “Can’t justify the siren if it’s not an emergency.” Drew hooked his thumbs in his duty belt.

  “My wife got word. Jane’s coming.” Victor’s features were screwed up so tight he could have passed for one of those apple dolls Drew’s grandmother used to make for the fair every year. He wasn’t a warm, cuddly grandfather to Becky, but he showed up on birthdays and holidays, which was what mattered most, Drew supposed.

  “And…”

  “I want to know the details.” Victor’s cheeks flushed. He was a proud man. Having to ask Drew anything must have cost him.

  “Ask Jane.” Drew turned to leave. He had a busy day and had volunteered to help out at Becky’s play rehearsal this evening.

  Lincoln Lee backed his truck up to the loading dock.

  “Wait.” Victor gripped Drew’s shoulder. “Jane doesn’t talk to us. Her message was a surprise. Molly wants to know if she’s staying with you.”

  “No.” Drew nearly recoiled. “She’s not staying with me.”

  Lincoln got out of his truck and ambled over to the stairs.

  Victor’s frown deepened, most likely because they no longer had any privacy. “You let me know when you hear anything.” His voice was low and unyielding. “We’ve got Becky to protect.”

  Victor wanted to put Becky’s well-being above Jane’s?

  The unexpected sentiment nearly sent Drew stumbling.

  * * *

  Lola hadn’t known there were this many young children in all of Sunshine Valley. She’d certainly never seen them all in one place.

  Kindergartners and first graders ran around the high school gymnasium like ants on the remains of a spilled ice cream.

  It was the first dress rehearsal for the lower grades’ play, and the first time Lola had been in the high school gym since she and Avery had done battle at the bake sale.

  Lola missed Avery. She’d called and texted without response.

  When Wendy saw Lola, she waved and headed right over. As usual, she was understated in dress—a plain red blouse, a whitewashed blue jean skirt that hit below the knee, and white Keds. “I’m going to send you the actors who need help with hair and makeup.” Wendy had to shout above the din. Despite the chaos, she was calmer than a cat in a sunny window seat. “You can set up at the table in the corner.” She paused. “Strike that. Bitsy is moving your table next to Drew’s. He’s doing photos for the program.”

  Lola followed the direction of Wendy’s gaze.

  Drew was trying to make a little boy stand still while he took his picture against a painted backdrop of the Parthenon. Bitsy finished dragging Lola’s table next to his and tried to help Drew get the boy to hold still.

  Lola swallowed. After his rejection the other night, this was going to be uncomfortable.

  “Your kids all need to be done and ready for dress rehearsal in an hour.” Wendy flapped a hand in front of Lola. “Did you hear me?”

  “Yes.” Lola stopped watching Drew. “How many kids do you need me to do?”

  “Ten.”

  Ten was a lot in an hour. She’d be so busy that she’d have no time to talk to Drew. “What about all the other ones?” The thirty or so running around like they’d consumed multiple cups of mile-high hot chocol
ate.

  “They don’t need it.” Wendy gazed upon the bedlam fondly, pushing her flat blond hair behind one ear. “The ones with blue capes are the Greek army. The ones with white capes are the Greek chorus and…Hey!” shouted Wendy. “Nathan! Take your cape off June’s head.” She hurried off to save the poor girl from a member of the Greek chorus.

  Power made Wendy seem like an entirely different person. And she spoke with volume and authority. Now this woman…Lola could see Drew dating her.

  Gathering her pride, Lola went to her table. At least she wouldn’t be alone with Drew. Bitsy stood next to him, encouraging his subject to strike a pose.

  “Grandma!” A little girl with short brown pigtails and a blue cape ran up, doing the potty dance. “I need a bathroom.”

  The pair rushed off, leaving Lola chaperonless.

  The little boy Drew was trying to photograph ran off to join the rest of the chorus, white cape fluttering behind him. From the look on Drew’s face, he hadn’t gotten his photograph.

  “Wendy’s in her element.” Lola feigned nonchalance, shedding her blue-fringed suede jacket. She set out bobby pins and a case of bright eye shadow in many colors. “Did Wendy ask you to volunteer too?”

  “Becky wanted me to help.” Drew grinned, glancing toward the stage, where Becky waved her sword. “I’ve got to make the most of it now. Another eight to ten years and she won’t want to have anything to do with me.”

  “That won’t happen.” He cared too much to let go of people, especially his daughter. The man was a great father.

  “After my dad left, I practically raised my sisters. They drove me nuts.” Drew lifted a hand to catch Becky’s eye. His daughter’s sword swung dangerously close to Wendy’s bare knees. “When my sisters were younger, they wouldn’t leave me alone. And when they were older, they pretended I didn’t exist.”

  Becky lowered her weapon, and then Drew turned toward Lola. “When Becky was born, there was a moment when I was disappointed. Another girl? How could life be so cruel?” He chuckled. “And then I held her in my arms, and I knew all the drama my sisters put me through was just practice so I’d be a good father to Becky.”

  For a moment, Lola forgot all about Drew’s rejection. All she could see was what an amazing husband and father Drew could be.

  Mary Margaret Sneed stopped by Lola’s table. She was a kindergarten teacher, and one of the women who’d passed her at Scotty’s viewing. One of the women who might have left a trace of that expensive perfume she’d found in Randy’s keepsake box. She had a mane of long red hair and was tall with enviable curves. She knew how to dress too. She wore a plain pink sheath accessorized with a looped and knotted teal-flowered scarf. “The kids are super excited about the play, and I’m super excited that Wendy’s doing it this year. That means I’m backup for the first time in years.”

  “Lucky you,” Drew said.

  Mary Margaret smiled at Lola, a tenuous expression that said, Yeah, I can’t believe I’m a widow either. They were about the same age. Mary Margaret’s husband had passed last December but she and Lola hadn’t crossed paths, because she’d chosen cremation.

  “Mary Margaret Sneed,” Lola breathed her name as if she were a rock star, and then launched herself at the woman, wrapping her arms around the kindergarten teacher and sucking air through her nose like a new Hoover.

  “Lola…” Drew’s voice permeated Lola’s brain just as she realized Mary Margaret didn’t smell like Joy perfume.

  “I’m sorry.” Lola released her suspect and backed away, noting her pierced ears. She’d just made a fool of herself. And now she had to say something. Anything. She scrambled for words. “I used to work on Broadway and…and…I’m just so-o-o excited to be here tonight.” Lola clapped her hands in mock glee, feeling her cheeks heat. Mary Margaret must think she was an idiot.

  Yep. The tall redhead made a hasty retreat. And who could blame her?

  “You were sniffing Mary Margaret like a trained police dog on an escaped convict’s jumpsuit.” Drew crossed his arms over his chest and aimed his starchy cop expression her way. “Did you come here to smell every woman in town?”

  “Oh yeah, that’s why I volunteered,” Lola deadpanned. Drew thought she was that desperate? He could be such a…such a…cop. She unpacked the rest of her supplies on the table and then stopped, needing to defend herself. “I miss helping with plays, okay? I miss the energy of the cast, and the bustle of performances.” Lola turned away, nearly dropping her basket of lipsticks. Why was she bothering to explain? He didn’t care.

  “There’s no reason this should be hard.” His tone sounded conciliatory.

  She turned back around. “Are you giving me the friend speech?”

  “Why not?” He shrugged. “We know a lot about each other.”

  Yep. Like the taste of your kiss.

  Smirking, Lola rummaged through her supplies without knowing what she was looking for.

  “For example, you like being behind the scenes but a part of things.” Drew touched her shoulder, pulling her gaze back to him. “Like when you work at the mortuary.”

  “I like minding my own business,” Lola said firmly, planting a can of mousse on the table with a thud.

  “Sheriff.” Drew tapped his chest, smiling like he’d just solved a crime. “The job gives me license to be a busybody.”

  She wanted to return his smile. She wanted to accept his friendship. But the sting of rejection was too fresh.

  “Ms. Adams says I get a fake nose.” A little boy laid his torso across Lola’s table, turning so he could see her. He wore a flesh-colored shirt with muscles drawn on it and a pair of brown faux-fur pants. “A pointy nose. Right here.” He tapped his little nose and grinned.

  “No, Caden,” Wendy called, having heard him from the stage with her bionic hearing. “You need ears. Pointy ears. You’re a satyr.”

  “Come sit here.” Lola directed Caden to a chair. There was a headband around his neck with pointy pink ears glued to either side. She put the ears on his overgrown dark-brown locks. “Let’s see how this looks.”

  “I wanted a nose.” Caden crossed his arms and kicked out his feet. “Hair stuff is for girls.”

  “It’s too bad you feel that way, Caden.” Lola considered her plan of attack. “I was going to spike your hair into satyr horns.”

  Caden stopped kicking and angled his cherubic face toward hers. “Horns? For reals?”

  “Yep.” Lola kept a straight face. “With your permission, of course.” She had some spray-on colors in her case—red, pink, green, blue, plus the traditional hair colors for those last-minute touch-ups. Red horns would be awesome on Caden.

  The little boy pursed his lips and then frowned, giving her proposition careful consideration. “I guess you could do horns in my hair.”

  “Well, only if you really want them.” There was something about the boy that made her want to tease him a little. Maybe it was the mischief built into his smile or the sparkle in his eyes that said he wasn’t going to be one of those kids who sat quietly at his desk during story time.

  Caden popped up in his seat. “I really want horns.”

  While she worked product into Caden’s hair, several kids gathered round. Drew took advantage and pulled some over to have their pictures taken.

  After the horns were made of Caden’s dark hair and his ears were put back on, Lola opened her makeup kit.

  “That’s for girls.” Caden began sliding out of the chair like melted butter.

  Lola gasped and clutched the makeup kit to her chest. “I was going to make you look truly evil, but if you want to look like Caden with horns, suit yourself.”

  Caden halted, flipped around, and climbed back into the chair as if that had been his plan all along. “Evil, evil, evil.” He made claws out of his fingers and snarled.

  The children around them let out shrieks of joy.

  Drew captured another child in a photograph. “Lola, are you sure you aren’t a child whisperer?”


  “Sheriff, I’m a beautician.” Lola lifted her nose in the air and sniffed. “We have superpowers.”

  “Superpowers and horns all in the same day.” Caden squirmed in his chair. “Suh-weet!”

  Lola went to work with her makeup brush, intent upon giving the boy the fairy treatment, which involved creating overly dramatic eyes. She shaded red streaks on either side of his nose that climbed beneath his eyebrows. And then she lined his eyes thickly with black and filled in his eyelids with sparkly gold.

  “Not that,” Caden said, horrified when Lola knelt in front of him with lipstick. “My mom does that.”

  “This is not your mama’s lipstick.” Lola needed to hurry. She had principal players in line waiting for makeup. She’d gone a little overboard with Caden. “This is the black I reserve for evil characters. I’ve never used this on a mom. Not ever.” At least no one who played a mom on stage.

  “I want some.” Becky popped up at the table, wearing a disheveled toga over a pair of blue jeans and red cowboy boots. She carried the clanking sword. “I want to look like Caden.”

  There was a chorus of “Me too.”

  “Girls can’t have this.” Caden scowled, looking like the evil satyr he was going to be playing. “This is for bad guys only.” He jutted his chin toward Lola and commanded, “Do it.”

  When Lola finished with his lips, Caden snarled at his friends and ran to Drew for a picture.

  Several moms had drifted Lola’s way. Not close enough to engage Lola in conversation but close enough to see what she was doing.

  Amid a cacophony of “Me nexts,” Becky claimed Lola’s client chair. “It’s me. I’m Athena.” She’d pulled the bottom half of the toga through a corded belt. It hung in double folds around her waist. She dropped her sword. It clattered and clanked and stopped several conversations before it quieted.

  Lola made quick work of Becky’s hair, threading it with plastic pearls. And then she lined her eyes with gold eye shadow.

  After the ten main players had their makeup on, Lola couldn’t turn down the requests from the chorus and the army, at least not when Wendy gave her approval.