Love is Lovelier

by Donna Simonetta

  Mick filled the doorway, and in his dress slacks, with his button-down shirt open at the neck, and the cuffs rolled up over his forearms, Mick looked every bit as edible as the amazing aromas coming out of her tiny kitchen. Embarrassingly, her tummy rumbled at the tantalizing smells.

  Mick grinned as he wiped his hands on a striped dishtowel, and then tossed it over his shoulder. “I thought I heard you coming up the stairs! I’m glad you’re hungry. I made dinner for us.”

  He stepped aside to let her in, and shut the door behind her. She froze in amazement one step into her apartment. The little table, where she usually sat to eat her yogurt in the morning and her takeout at night, was set with her mismatched dishware, and the fat relaxation candle she used when she took a long soak in her tub with a good book. On the funky tiki bar she’d bought at a yard sale when she first moved in to her own place, sat a bottle of wine from a local winery and two glasses.

  Mick stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned back against his strength and warmth, and thought even though she’d been lucky enough to be raised with love, in a big, loud, happy family, she’d never felt as treasured as she did at this precise moment. She finally got what her mother meant, when she told her even though she’d lost her husband—Heather’s father—too soon, she wouldn’t have done anything differently, because the time spent together was worth it. She rubbed her head against Mick’s cheek, and wondered how to let him know she was willing to face her fears of losing him, like she’d lost her father, and take the big leap into life with him.

  Her stomach rumbled again, this time she thought it was in protest of the delay in eating the delicious-smelling food. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

  “I knew the group we had in at the Retreat this week was a bunch of demanding jerks, so I figured you’d be exhausted and hungry tonight. Before I left for Baltimore this morning, I threw the fixings for pot roast into the crock pot.”

  “Wow. Cooking in the crock pot, what a concept! I just bought it because it looked kitschy and retro, I thought it went with my apartment.”

  She felt his body shake as he laughed. “Surprise! It cooks food too.”

  She moaned, and felt his arms tighten around her in response to the sound. “On top of all your other mad-skills, you can make pot roast too? You really are the perfect man, aren’t you?”

  He pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head, to add to his perfection for her, he was the only man she’d ever dated who was tall enough to do it, and released her to walk over to the tiki bar.

  He poured them each a balloon glass of red wine, as he spoke, “I didn’t want to eat out every night, so I learned how to cook. But I have to admit, since I usually just cook for myself, I only know how to make guy food like pot roast, and I started thinking while I was waiting for you to get home, you might not like pot roast.”

  She took a deep breath of the intoxicating fragrance of roasted meat and aromatic vegetables, and said in a deeply heartfelt manner, “I love pot roast! Thank you! And do I smell biscuits baking?”

  He handed her a glass of wine and clinked his glass to hers. They both took a sip, and then he ducked his head sheepishly as he answered, “You do, but they’re just from a can. I didn’t have time to make them from scratch today.”

  She savored the taste of the hearty, peppery red wine on her tongue, and shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re apologizing for not having homemade biscuits for me. When I’m cooking, I consider the canned ones to be homemade. And truthfully, I do eat takeout most nights. If I’m doing the ‘cooking.’ ” She made air quotes around the last word, “I’m microwaving a frozen dinner.”

  His phone chimed in his pocket. He pulled it out and tapped the screen to stop the sound, before calling over his shoulder as he rushed to the kitchen, “That timer means the biscuits are done. But I want you to have a chance to relax a bit before we eat. Why don’t you sit down and enjoy your wine while I pull the biscuits out of the oven.”

  She sighed with happiness as she sank into her comfy sofa. “You don’t have to ask me twice. It has been a long week. I feel like a queen, Mick, thank you again.”

  She heard the clatter of the cookie sheet from the kitchen, and his voice from the pass-through opening cut into the wall between the kitchen and living room. “I should be the one thanking you for taking my mom to Washington, and helping her jump through all the hoops she needed to, in order to get her passport expedited.”

  She slipped out of her shoes as he talked, stretched her legs out, and wriggled her tired toes. “No need to thank me, I’m good at organizing stuff, and we had a nice day together. My mom is so excited to have her as a traveling companion, I was happy to do it for both of them.”

  He came back in the room and sat next to her; his long legs stretched out next to hers. “Still, I know what a hassle that kind of thing can be, and I appreciate it. My mom hasn’t always had a lot of help, and it means a lot to me you went out of your way to rearrange your schedule during a busy week to help her.”

  She bumped his leg with hers. “Anytime.”

  He snaked his left arm around her shoulders, and took a sip of his wine with his right. She nestled in against his broad shoulder. Heaven.

  They sat like that for a few moments before he spoke again, and listened to the classical music playing from his iPod on the docking station in the kitchen. She usually listened to country music, but this was nice. The piece he’d chosen to play was peaceful and soothed her jangled nerves.

  He cleared his throat, and when he spoke, his voice sounded just the littlest bit unsure, which was not like Mick, “While I was in Baltimore today, I arranged for an outing for tomorrow, and I’d really like for you to come.”

  She inhaled the fresh piney scent of his aftershave, as she nuzzled his neck, near where her head rested. “We don’t have any guests at the Retreat tomorrow, so I think I can get away. What’s up?”

  “I met with a guy I know from back in the day, who’s with the Orioles front office now. And by the way, I think we’ll be doing a retreat for their staff in the off-season. But, anyway, he arranged for a bunch of us to go to tomorrow’s game at Camden Yards. I thought it would be fun for Mom to go to the city. We could walk around the Inner Harbor, and then take in the game.”

  His voice still sounded nervous, which confused her since his offer was freaking awesome! She jolted up in her seat and bounced in place. “Are you kidding me? I love the O’s! Count me in!”

  He smiled, and she thought he looked relieved at her answer. She was a rabid Orioles fan. Did he really think she’d say no? Maybe it was because he usually dated more sophisticated girly-girls like Gloria. But a good-old girl like her couldn’t think of a better way to spend an early summer day than at the ballpark

  “Good,” satisfaction was evident in his voice, and he repeated a little louder, and more firmly, “Good. That’s good.”

  She swatted his arm. “Was there any doubt in your mind? Beer, crab cakes, and my favorite team, how could I say no?”

  “I thought you might like the Nationals.”

  She shook her head with vigor. “No. A lot of people in Virginia do now, but I was an O’s fan before the Nats came to Washington, and I’m an O’s fan still. I bleed orange, baby! Oh! And I just remembered they’re playing the Yankees tomorrow! It should be a great game.”

  A slow smile spread across his face, and the glimmer in his brown eyes made her feel like she was missing a good joke. “I’m really hoping it will be a memorable one.”

  Chapter 29

  As they took their seats at Camden Yard, in the first row right behind the home dugout, Heather couldn’t contain her excitement. She squeezed Mick’s hand. “Oh my God! These are the best seats I’ve ever had! How did you get them to give us these seats on one day’s notice?”

  Her brother Jeff slapped Mick on the back, as he edged by them, with Magda in tow, to take their seats. “You wouldn’t believe it if he told you, Heath.�
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  She exchanged a glance with Magda, who looked like she didn’t have a clue what they were talking about either. Her friend shrugged and said, “I don’t know, and I don’t care, I’m just going to enjoy it! And if it means Mick gave up his first-born child, well then, so be it.”

  Bethanne came up behind them, decked out in as much Oriole orange as Heather was. “Me too!” She slapped Cisco on his butt. “This is my first baby-free outing in like forever! It was nice of Deidre to offer to watch him today. Now, fetch me a beer and a hot dog, Husband.”

  “Ooo!” Magda exclaimed. “Me too, Jeff, please. Except I want a crab cake, since we’re in Baltimore. I think it’s a law or something.”

  Cisco swept his arm like a courtier as he bowed at the waist. “Your wishes are our commands, my ladies.”

  Their two mothers took their seats, and Mick asked, “How about you three? What can I get for y’all?”

  The ‘y’all’ made Heather’s heart hopeful that maybe Mick was happy living in a small town in Virginia now, and might be content to settle here with her.

  Before any of them could answer, Ty took a seat next to Heather, and answered, “Beer and a pit beef sammie, man, thanks.”

  Mick reached over Heather and knocked Ty’s O’s cap off his head. “Not you. You’re coming with me. I’ll need your help carrying stuff back.”

  By the time everyone settled in a seat, it was time for the national anthem. It always seemed especially moving to sing it here in Baltimore, where it was written, and Heather joined in loudly and belted out the extended ‘Oooooo’ traditional at Baltimore sporting events.

  When the Anthem was over, Bethanne leaned over to call out to Mick, “If you think that was bad, you’re going to want to pretend you don’t know Heather during the 7th inning stretch song.”

  Mick tugged gently on Heather’s ponytail, where it stuck out of the back of her O’s cap, with the cartoony-looking bird on the front. “I’m actually looking forward to it.”

  Heather bestowed a beaming smile on Mick, before turning to stick her tongue out at Bethanne. “See, Freshy Fresherton, some people appreciate my musical skills.”

  Ty snorted in the middle of a sip of beer. “Yeah. I’m sure that’s the skill of yours he most appreciates.”

  “Children…be nice,” her mother said in a warning tone.

  Heather bounced in her seat. “The game’s about to start, people; unless you’re cheering on the O’s or booing the Yankees, I don’t want to hear a peep out of you!”

  ****

  As the game went on, Heather noticed Mick getting progressively more restless. He’d stopped cheering for the Orioles, and had a death grip on his beer. By the time the seventh inning stretch was starting, Heather was afraid he was going to pop a blood vessel, and she had no clue what was up with him.

  She cheered loudly for the O’s as they made their way back to the bench, and one of the players winked up at her. He said loudly enough for them to hear, “See, I told you football players can’t control their women.”

  “I don’t even pretend I can, and y’know the truth is, I don’t want to. Just be glad they’re cheering for y’all, because you don’t want to hear their trash talk,” Jeff drawled as the players laughed.

  Heather poked Mick’s arm, and pointed to the costumed mascot on top of the dugout. “Here comes the Bird! He usually pulls someone from this section up to dance, maybe he’ll ask one of us!”

  Mick just gulped, as if he were trying to swallow a baseball. She looked away as an announcement came on the P.A. system that the Bird would be joined this afternoon by a special guest, who wanted to send a message to one of the O’s most loyal fans.

  Heather turned back toward Mick, as the first chords of the familiar song started to play, and was shocked he wasn’t in his seat.

  As a familiar deep voice started singing, Bethanne and Magda shrieked and pointed. Heather looked where they were pointing, and was stunned to see Mick next to the Bird on top of the home dugout.

  And he was singing.

  To her.

  The Orioles seventh inning stretch song: “Thank God I’m a Country Boy.”

  He held her gaze steadily, as he sang, as if she were the only other person in the ballpark filled with thousands.

  The Bird grabbed her hand and pulled her on top of the dugout. He danced a couple of do-si-do steps with her, before he twirled her and passed her off to Mick, who danced with her as he sang the lyrics about being grateful to have a simple, country life.

  Left without a partner, the Bird grabbed Bethanne and pulled her up to finish the dance with him.

  As Mick sang the last note, Heather squealed and threw her arms around his neck. “I can’t believe you just did that!”

  He smiled at her, and held her close. “Neither can I, but I figured go big or go home. I knew it would take a grand gesture for you to realize I’m not going anywhere. Rivers Bend is my home. You are my home.”

  Now wasn’t the time to tell him, but she’d already realized it in a much quieter, more personal way, last night when he’d cooked her dinner. Instead, this was the time to show appreciation for his bravery for serenading her in front of a stadium full of people, with a song designed to celebrate his humble, southern roots. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

  “I love you, Heather, so much.”

  In answer, and oblivious to the fact they were still being shown on the big screen in the stadium, Heather planted a major kiss on her man. The catcalls of both the crowd, and the Orioles players, who stepped out of their dugout to watch the show, reminded her they were on display. She felt her cheeks flush, but threw back her head and laughed with pure joy. “I love you too, my crazy, country boy!”

  He scooched down, so he could look straight into her eyes, and said with gravitas, “That’s good, because I’m not going anywhere. You get that, right?”

  “I think the whole city of Baltimore gets it, Mick!” Ty called from his seat.

  “Oh, right.” Mick hopped off the dugout, and put his hands on her waist to lift Heather down too.

  “I get it, Mick,” Heather replied with equal seriousness.

  He nodded once in satisfaction. “Good, because you and me, we’re a team from here on out. I mean, no one gets out of this life alive, but I’ll be with you for the whole wild ride we’re given, if you’ll have me.”

  Heather seriously hated crying, but it was really hard not to at the moment. She struggled to speak around the lump in her throat, but finally gave up, and nodded mutely in response. She felt someone bump her from behind, and looked up to see the Bird, who’d shoved her toward Mick, and now mimed hugging himself.

  She gave a watery laugh, and followed orders, by hugging Mick. “If the rest of our life is going to continue the way it’s starting, it’s going to be one wild ride.”

  “With you, I’d expect nothing less,” Mick said with a grin, before dipping her and taking her lips in a passionate kiss, as their family, friends, the Orioles Bird, and a ballpark full of strangers cheered.

  A word from the author…

  My career has been a winding road. I worked in the business world for years, got my MLS and worked in a school library, and am now living my dream as an author. I love to read and write contemporary and fantasy romance.

  I live in Maryland, with my husband, who is my real-life romance hero. We both enjoy traveling to visit our far-flung family and friends and spending time on the beach with an umbrella drink and a good book.

  Thank you for purchasing

  this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

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