Can't Hurry Love

by Melinda Curtis

  “Like?”

  “You? Why did you let the Ladies’ Day Out group make you a dating profile if you don’t want to be on the site?”

  Lacy laughed softly as they stepped into a short line for hot dogs. “Have you met the Ladies’ Day Out group? They are determined and persistent. When they want something, they don’t take no for an answer.”

  “You’re part of the LDO,” he pointed out.

  “Well, I don’t share that same quality.”

  “You were persistent in getting me to agree to teach a class at the library.”

  “True. I guess when there’s something I want, I go after it.” They reached the front of the line and ordered two sodas and two hot dogs. One with chili for him and one without for her.

  Lacy opened the flap of her purse, and Paris stopped her. “I brought you here. This is my treat.”

  “No, I couldn’t—”

  She started to argue, but he laid a ten-dollar bill in front of the vendor. “It’s just sodas and hot dogs.” He glanced over. “You can treat me next time.”

  Her lips parted. He was only teasing, but he saw the question in her eyes, and now it was in his mind too. Would there really be a next time? Would that be so bad?

  After collecting the change, they carried their drinks and hot dogs to a nearby bench and sat down.

  “I didn’t think I’d like teaching, but it’s actually kind of fun,” Paris confessed.

  “Even Mr. Jenson?” she asked before taking a huge bite of her hot dog.

  “Even him. But he didn’t show up today. Maybe he dropped out.” Paris shrugged. “I changed the syllabus just for him. I was planning to teach the class to Skype this afternoon.”

  “You didn’t?”

  He shook his head. “I went back to the lesson on Microsoft Word just in case Mr. Jenson showed up next time.”

  “Maybe he didn’t feel well. He’s been to every other class this week, right?”

  Paris shook his head. “But he’s made no secret that he doesn’t like my teaching. He’s even blasted his opinions all over Facebook.”

  Lacy grimaced. “Oh my. He treats everyone that way. I wouldn’t take it personally. It’s just how he is.”

  “He wasn’t always that way. He used to be really nice, if memory serves me correctly.”

  Lacy narrowed her eyes. “You knew him before the class?”

  Paris looked down at his half-eaten hot dog. “He and Mrs. Jenson fostered me for a while, but he doesn’t seem to remember me.”

  “You were in foster care?”

  “Yep. The Jensons were my favorite family.”

  Her jaw dropped. “That’s so interesting.”

  Paris angled his body toward her. “Do you know what’s wrong with Mrs. Jenson?”

  Lacy shrugged. “I’m not sure. All I know is she’s forgetful. She gets confused a lot. I’ve seen her get pretty agitated with Mr. Jenson too. They used to come into the library together.”

  “Maybe that’s why he’s so bitter now,” Paris said, thinking out loud. He lifted his hot dog to his mouth and took another bite.

  “Perhaps Mr. Jenson just needs someone to help him.”

  Paris chewed and swallowed. “I’m not even sure how I could help Mr. Jenson. I’ve been reading up on how to make a rose garden, but that won’t make his wife well again.”

  Lacy hummed thoughtfully. “I think Mr. Jenson just needs someone to treat him nicely, no matter how horrible he is. No matter what he says to me, I always offer him a big smile. I actually think he likes me, although he would never admit it.” She giggled to herself.

  Paris looked at her. “You seem to really understand people.”

  “I do a lot of people-watching. And I had years of being an outcast in school.” She swiped at a drop of ketchup at the corner of her mouth. “When you’re hiding in the back of the classroom, there’s not much else to do but watch everyone else. You can learn a lot about a person when they think no one is paying attention.”

  “Why would you hide?” he asked, growing increasingly interested in Lacy Shaw.

  She met his gaze, and he glimpsed something dark in her eyes for a moment. “Childhood scoliosis. I had to wear a back brace to straighten out my spine.”

  His gaze dropped to her back. It was long and smooth now.

  “I don’t wear it anymore,” she told him. “My back is fixed. High school is when you want to be sporting the latest fashion though, not a heavy brace.”

  “I’m sure you were just as beautiful.”

  She looked away shyly, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear with one hand. “Anyway, I guess that’s why I know human nature. Even the so-called nice kids were afraid to be associated with me. There were a handful of people who didn’t care. I’m still close with them.”

  “Sounds like your childhood was less than desirable. Kind of like mine,” he said. “That’s something we have in common.”

  She looked up. “Who’d have thought? The librarian and the bad boy biker.”

  “Bad boy?” he repeated, finding this description humorous.

  Her cheeks blossomed red just like the roses he’d studied in the library book. She didn’t look away, and he couldn’t, even if he wanted to. Despite himself, he felt the pull between them, the sexual tension winding around its gear, cranking tighter and tighter. “Perhaps we have a lot more in common.”

  “Like what?” she asked softly.

  “Well, we both like hot dogs.”

  She smiled softly.

  “And I want to kiss you right now. Not sure if you want to kiss me too but…” What was he doing? It was as if something else had taken control of his mind and mouth. He was saying exactly the opposite of what he intended.

  Lacy’s lips parted, her pupils dilated, and unless he was reading her wrong, she wanted to kiss him too.

  Leaning forward, he dropped his mouth and brushed his lips to hers. A little sigh tumbled out of her, and after a moment, she kissed him back.

  Chapter Four

  Sparks, tingles, the whole nine yards.

  That was what this kiss with Paris was. He was an amazing kisser. He had a firm hand on her thigh and the other gently curled around the back of her neck. This was the Cadillac of kisses, not that Lacy had much experience recently. It’d been a while since she’d kissed anyone. The last guy she’d briefly dated had run the library in the town of River Oaks. They’d shared a love of books, but not much else.

  Paris pulled back slightly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

  She blinked him into focus, a dreamlike feeling hanging over her.

  “All I wanted to do tonight was take your mind off the afternoon.”

  “The afternoon?” she repeated.

  “Mrs. Townsend?”

  “Oh.” She straightened a touch. Was that why he’d kissed her? Was he only taking her mind off the trauma of what happened at the library? “I definitely forgot about that for a moment.”

  “Good.” Paris looked around the park. Then he stood and offered her his hand. “Want to take a walk to the hot spring before we leave?”

  She allowed him to pull her to standing. “Okay.”

  She followed him because he’d driven her here. Because he’d kissed her. Because she wasn’t sure what to think, but one thing she knew for sure was that she liked being around Paris. He was easy to talk to, and he made her feel good about herself.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” he asked a couple of minutes later, walking alongside her.

  She could hear the subtle sound of water as they drew closer to the hot spring. “Oh, I was just thinking what a nice night it is.”

  Paris looked around. “I don’t think there’s a single season in this town that I don’t like. The air is easier to breathe here for some reason.” She watched him suck in a deep breath and shivered with her body’s response.

  “I’ve always wanted to get in a hot spring,” Lacy admitted, turning her attention to the water that was no
w in view.

  “You’ve never been in?” Paris asked.

  Lacy shook her head. “No. That was another fabrication for the profile. I’ve read that a spring is supposed to help with so many things. Joint and muscle pain. Energy levels. Detoxification.”

  “Do you need those benefits?” he asked.

  Lacy looked up at him. “Not really.” All she really needed was to lean into him and press her lips to his once more.

  Paris sighed as they walked. “So what should I do?”

  A dozen thoughts rushed Lacy’s mind. “Hmm?”

  “I want to help Mr. Jenson somehow, like you suggested.”

  “Oh.” She looked away as she swallowed. “Well, he didn’t show up at today’s class. Maybe you could stop by and see him. Tomorrow is Saturday, so there’s no class anyway. You could check on him and make sure he’s okay.”

  Paris stared at her. “I have to admit, that old man kind of scares me.”

  Lacy giggled softly. “Me too.” She gasped as an idea rushed into her mind. She didn’t give herself time to think before sharing it with Paris. “But I’ll go with you. It’s my day off.”

  He cocked his head. “You’d spend your day off helping me?”

  “Yes, but there’s a condition.”

  He raised a questioning brow. “What’s that?”

  “I’ll go with you if you’ll be my date to my class reunion.” Seeing Mrs. Townsend at death’s door this afternoon had shaken her up more than she’d realized. “I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to go, have a blast, and show everyone who tried to break me that they didn’t succeed.” And for some reason, Paris made her feel more confident.

  Paris grinned at her. “Are you asking me out, Lacy Shaw?”

  She swallowed. “Yes. Kind of. I’m offering you a deal.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I guess Mr. Jenson might be less likely to slam the door on my face tomorrow if I have a beautiful woman by my side. You said he likes you, so…”

  Her insides fluttered to life. “My old bullies might be less likely to pick on me if I have a hot graphic designer as my escort.”

  This made him laugh. Then Paris stuck out his hand. “Want to shake on it?”

  She would prefer to kiss on it, but that first kiss had come with an apology from him. This deal wasn’t romantic in nature. It was simply two people helping one another out.

  * * *

  Even though Paris worked for himself, he still loved a Saturday, especially this one. He and Lacy were spending the day together, and he hadn’t looked forward to something like this in a while. He got out of bed with the energy of a man who’d already had his coffee and headed down the hall to brew a pot. Then he dressed in a pair of light-colored jeans and a favorite T-shirt for a local band he loved.

  As he sipped his coffee, he thought about last evening and the kiss that probably had a lot to do with his mood this morning. He hadn’t planned on kissing Lacy, but the feeling had engulfed him. And her signals were all a go, so he’d leaned in and gone for it.

  Magic.

  There’d be no kissing today though. He didn’t like starting things he couldn’t finish, and he wasn’t in the market for a relationship. He’d traveled that path, and his marriage had been anything but the happy ending he’d envisioned. He couldn’t do anything right for his ex, no matter how hard he’d tried. As soon as he’d realized she was having an affair, he’d left. He didn’t stick around where he wasn’t wanted.

  Paris stood and grabbed his keys. Then he headed out the door to go get Lacy. He’d take his truck today so that he didn’t need to torture himself with the feel of her arms around his waist.

  A short drive later, he pulled into her driveway on Pine Cone Lane, walked up the steps, and knocked. She opened the door, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. She wore her hair down, allowing it to spill softly over her shoulders just like in her profile picture. “You look, uh…well, you look nice,” he finally said.

  She lifted a hand and smoothed her hair on one side. “Thanks. At the library, it’s easier to keep my hair pulled back,” she explained. “But since I’m off today, I thought I’d let loose.”

  It was more than her hair. A touch of makeup accented her brown eyes, and she was wearing a soft pink top that brought out the colors in her skin. If he was a painter, he’d be running for his easel. If he was a writer, he’d grab a pen and paper, ignited by inspiration.

  But he was just a guy who dabbled on computers. A guy who’d already decided he wasn’t going to act on his attraction to the woman standing in front of him.

  “I’m ready if you are,” she said, stepping onto the porch and closing the front door behind her. She looked out into the driveway. “Oh, you drove something with four wheels today. I was ready for the bike, but I admit I’m kind of relieved.”

  “The bike grew on you a little bit?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “I could get used to it. My mother would probably kill you if she knew you put me on a motorcycle last night.”

  “I was rescuing you from being stranded in a dark parking lot,” he pointed out.

  “The lesser of two evils.”

  Paris jumped ahead to open her door, winning a curious look from her as well as a new blush on her cheeks—this one not due to makeup.

  “Thanks.”

  He closed the door behind her and then jogged around to the driver’s side. Once he was seated behind the steering wheel, he looked over. “Looks like Jere got your car back okay.” He gestured toward her Honda Accord parked in front of a single-car garage.

  “He left it and texted me afterward. No charge. He said he owed you.” Lacy’s brows subtly lifted.

  “See, it pays to hang around me.” Paris started the engine. “I was thinking we could stop in and check on Mrs. Townsend first.”

  Lacy pointed a finger at him. “I love that idea, even though I’m on to you, Paris Montgomery. You’re really just procrastinating because you’re scared of Mr. Jenson.”

  He grimaced as he drove toward the Sweetwater hospital. “That’s probably true.”

  They chatted easily as he drove, discussing all of Lacy’s plans for the library this summer. She talked excitedly about her work, which he found all kinds of attractive. Then he pulled into the hospital parking lot, and they both got out.

  “We shouldn’t go see Mrs. Townsend empty-handed,” Lacy said as they walked toward the main entrance.

  “We can swing by the gift shop before we go up,” he suggested.

  “Good idea. She likes magazines, so I’ll get her a couple. I hope Abby and Willow are okay. It had to be confusing for them, watching their nanny being taken away in an ambulance.”

  “The girls only have one parent?” he asked.

  “Their mother isn’t around,” Lacy told him.

  Paris slid his gaze over. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he asked anyway. “What happened to their mom?” He’d heard a lot of stories from his foster siblings growing up. There were so many reasons for a parent to slip out of the picture. His story was rather boring in comparison to some. His parents didn’t like abiding by the law, which left him needing supplementary care at times. Then they’d decided that another thing they didn’t like was taking care of him.

  “Their mother left right after Willow was born. There was speculation that maybe she had postpartum depression.”

  Paris swallowed as they veered into the gift shop. “It’s good that they have Granger. He seems like a good dad.”

  “I think so too. And what kid wouldn’t want to grow up on a Christmas tree farm? I mean, that’s so cool.” Lacy beelined toward the magazine rack in the back of the shop, picking out three. They also grabbed some chocolates at the register.

  Bag of presents in hand, they left the shop and took the elevator up to the third floor to Mrs. Townsend’s room. Lacy knocked, and they waited for Mrs. Townsend’s voice to answer back, telling them to “come in.”

  “Oh, Lacy! You didn’t have
to spend your Saturday coming to see me,” Mrs. Townsend said as they entered her room. “And you brought a friend.”

  “Mrs. Townsend, this is Paris Montgomery. He did CPR on you in the library yesterday.”

  Mrs. Townsend’s eyes widened. “I didn’t even know I needed CPR. How embarrassing. But thank you,” she told Paris. “I guess you were instrumental in saving my life.”

  “It was no big deal,” he said.

  “To the woman who’s still alive today it is.” Mrs. Townsend looked at Lacy again, her gaze dropping to the bag in her hand. “What do you have?”

  “Oh, yes.” Lacy pulled the magazines out and offered them to Mrs. Townsend, along with the chocolates.

  Mrs. Townsend looked delighted by the gifts. “Oh my goodness. Thank you so much.”

  “Are you doing okay?” Lacy asked.

  Mrs. Townsend waved a hand. “The doctors here have been taking good care of me. They tell me I can go home tomorrow.”

  Lacy smiled. “That’s good news.”

  “Yes, it is. And I’ll be caring for the girls again on Monday. A little flutter in the heart won’t keep me from doing what I love.”

  Lacy’s gaze slid to meet Paris’s as worry creased her brow. He resisted reaching for her hand in a calming gesture. His intentions would be innocent, but they could also confuse things. He and Lacy were only out today as friends. Nothing more.

  They stayed and chatted a while longer and then left, riding down the elevator in silence. Paris and Lacy walked side by side back to his truck. He opened the passenger side door for her again and then got into the driver’s seat.

  “I’m glad Mrs. Townsend is okay,” Lacy said as they pulled back onto the main road and drove toward Blueberry Creek Road, where Albert Jenson lived.

  “Me too,” Paris told her.

  “But what happens next time?”

  “Hopefully there won’t be a next time.”

  “And if there is, hopefully you’ll be around,” Lacy said. Something about her tone made him wonder if she wanted to keep him around for herself too.

  A few minutes later, he turned onto Mr. Jenson’s street and traveled alongside Blueberry Creek. His heart quickened as he pulled into Mr. Jenson’s driveway.