Back Home Again: A Small Town Romance (Yosemite Flats Book 1)

by Cassie Hayes

  “So now we know why you love Yosemite Flats,” Lex finally got out. “Still not hearing why I supposedly do.”

  Zoe turned to Lex, her face glowing with affection. “For all the same reasons. I don’t think I could have loved this town if you hadn’t shown me how. Trust me, that kind of emotion doesn’t die.”

  “Then explain to me why I couldn’t wait to leave? You know better than anyone how desperate I was to get outta Dodge.”

  Zoe shrugged. “You were a teenager, the baby bird who needed to learn to fly on her own for a little while. But you know, even though baby birds may fly off, they always come back home to roost.”

  “I don’t know…” And she truly didn’t. She certainly had an affection for her hometown, but she’d spent so much of her adult life believing that LA was a perfect fit for her. That was a lot of time invested, and she wasn’t ready to admit defeat.

  “That’s okay, I do.” Zoe grinned, then jumped up and went to Lex’s closet. “Now, let’s figure out what you’re going to wear tonight.”

  “Wear?” What on earth was this lunatic talking about now?

  “To the mayor’s inauguration ball, of course,” she answered, flipping through the many couture dresses Lex had stupidly brought. “You’re going.”

  “Can’t. I’m watching Sophia because Grayson’s going.”

  Zoe leveled a devilish look at her. “Exactly. You’ll go, and you will break his brain, and hopefully other body parts, the moment he lays eyes — again, and hopefully other body parts — on you.”

  The idea sounded very tempting, but she had a responsibility. “I told you, I’ve already agreed to watch Sophia tonight. I can’t go.”

  “Psh! I’ll do it. How much trouble can a six-year-old be?”

  None at all, as far as Lex was concerned. She’d grown so fond of Sophia since agreeing to be her nanny, part of her wanted to refuse just so she could spend time with her. Then again, spending time with Grayson in a social setting was appealing on a very different level.

  Zoe spun around, her eyes dancing. “This’ll do,” she said, thrusting a very skimpy, very red dress at her. A slow smile slid onto Lex’s face.

  Yes. Yes, it would.

  “Hand me my Spanx.”

  Grayson had attended a few mayoral balls before, but never one quite like this. Instead of a black-tie affair catered by that year’s hottest celebrity chef, Yosemite Flats’ “ball” was little more than a backyard barbecue held inside the community center. And he loved it.

  While he was completely overdressed in a black Armani suit — thank goodness he didn’t wear the tux he’d considered — the rest of the men wore Wranglers, some with sport coats to dress it up, most with clean Western button-downs. A few even wore plain t-shirts. No one seemed to mind. The ladies kicked it up a notch, of course, but their version of “dressing up” was a far cry from haute couture. Sundresses and flowing skirts were the order of the day. Or night, as the case may be.

  At previous balls, he’d enjoyed listening to world-renowned orchestras, celebrated opera singers and rock bands who were household names. None of them could hold a candle to the low-tech, high-energy playing of the Yosemite Flat Tops. Couples swung each other around on the worn wood floor of the community center in some kind of rehearsed dance he couldn’t wait to learn. Except it was the kind of dance that required a partner.

  The gloom that had been following him around all week darkened. He’d tried to stop his heart from racing every time he saw Lex. He pretended that he didn’t think about her all day, every day. He even went so far as to ask her to watch Sophia for the night so he wouldn’t have to see her dancing with other men. Try as he might though, he couldn’t get her out of his head.

  Or his heart.

  Didn’t matter. She’d made it clear she wasn’t long for Yosemite Flats, and now that he was here, he didn’t plan on leaving. At least not for long. In his experience, long-distance relationships never worked out, and he wouldn’t put Sophia through that kind of back and forth anyway.

  “Grayson!”

  He turned and groaned. The three members of the Bubbie Brigade barreled toward him, each dragging a young woman behind them.

  “Evening, ladies,” he said, forcing a smile.

  That was one of the downsides of a small town. Everyone had known each other for so long that when someone new moved in, they were considered “fresh meat.” He’d been dodging overly aggressive women — some young, some considerably older — since arriving.

  “Grayson, I’d like you to meet my granddaughter, Emily,” Grace said, shoving a pretty brunette who couldn’t have been more than nineteen in his face.

  “And this is my beautiful granddaughter, Sarah,” Ada interrupted, pushing a slightly older, very attractive blonde in front of Emily. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

  Before he could answer, Ruth elbowed her way to the front — followed by another brunette, this one obviously mortified — and glared at the others. “Oh, no you don’t! I saw him first. If he picks anyone, it’s going to be my Amanda!”

  “Ladies, please,” he said, holding up his hands. “No offense to your lovely granddaughters, but as I told you before, I’m not in the market.”

  “Nonsense,” Ruth sniffed, pushing a stumbling Amanda toward him. “Don’t you want that poor girl of yours to have a mother?”

  For the first time, he detected Ruth’s slight Southern drawl. Her pushy, yet oddly passive-aggressive manner finally made sense to him. He still wasn’t about to be bullied by a tiny, old woman — most certainly not where Sophia was concerned. As much as he wanted to read her the riot act, he went with in-your-face diplomacy, a skill he learned from his father.

  “Ruth, I truly appreciate your concern for my daughter, but I’m the best judge of what she does and doesn’t need.” He nodded at each of the granddaughters. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you all. Maybe the next time we meet, it will be under less…awkward circumstances. Good night.”

  The Bubbies weren’t used to being told off — at least in such a polite manner — and stood stunned as he strolled away toward the bar.

  He needed a drink.

  As he sipped on a whiskey neat in the shadows, a familiar figure sidled up next to him. He hadn’t actually seen Erin Paulson since he went to her house to tell her Sophia wouldn’t be coming back. She’d cried and pleaded to be forgiven, promised nothing like that would happen again, but he couldn’t risk it. Accidents happened, that much he knew, but he’d never feel comfortable leaving Sophia in her care again.

  “Hey, stranger,” she drawled as she planted herself much too close to him. Where most women would dab a tiny bit of perfume on their pulse points, Erin seemed to live by the “if a little is good, more is better” theory.

  “Erin,” he responded coolly, leaning away to catch a breath of clean air.

  “Where’s your girlfriend?” She moved into the space he’d put between them and dragged a pink-tipped finger down his arm.

  Girlfriend… He’d thought maybe…but not now. “I don’t have a girlfriend, Erin.”

  “Sure ya do,” she slurred. Apparently her “more-is-better” theory applied to booze too. “Friggin’ Lex Luther.” She brayed laughter as she swayed far enough away for him to catch another lungful of air. “Stupid name.”

  Grayson ground his teeth to the point he thought they might shatter in his mouth. Things might not have worked out the way he’d hoped with Lex, but he wasn’t about to listen to smack talk about her.

  “Listen, Erin—“

  “Loser couldn’t even get a loan,” she sneered, oblivious to him.

  He wanted to suggest into exactly which orifice she could shove her gossip, but curiosity got the better of him. Lex had mentioned that her family would probably need a loan to fix up the Alpine Inn, but never said anything about not getting it.

  “What are you talking about?” he snarled, hoping she was too messed up to notice his tone. She was.

  “Oh, you don’t know? Lex a
nd her whole family are screwed. Their shabby little hotel needs some major fixin’ up, but they’re underwater on the joint. Looks like they’ll have to sell.” She swayed again as she sipped on what looked like a fresh Long Island Iced Tea. “Shame.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  Her eyes lit up at his interest. “My best friend’s sister’s bestie is dating Mike Hannigan’s assistant’s brother. He let it slip over beers.”

  Grayson’s head spun trying to connect the dots of the relationships. “Who’s Mike Hannigan?”

  “Their accountant.”

  Chills rippled along his spine. Lex’s words replayed in his head — Everything’s up in the air right now. The inn’s financial situation must have been what she was talking about. His stomach clenched with guilt for not pushing her for more details, for thinking it was all about her desire to go back to LA. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t, but he hadn’t even bothered to ask.

  “Aw, son of a…” Erin trailed off and Grayson followed her furious gaze.

  Standing in the doorway of the center, looking even better than the first time he saw her, was Lex. If he’d thought her infamous white bandage dress was hot, this flaming red masterpiece could easily set the entire planet on fire. Maybe he’d been wrong about preferring her in casual wear.

  Every part of his body came alive, some embarrassingly so, but he barely noticed. All his attention was on Lex and that amazing dress.

  The off-the-shoulder number made his mouth water at the thought of kissing the length of her exposed collarbone. Even at a distance, he could see the rouched fabric was thin and stretchy, and not just because it clung to her body like Saran Wrap. Only when his brain couldn’t help picturing her dress pooling around those black strappy heels did he move.

  His focus stayed on her, but he could see heads turning all over the hall. His upper lip pulled back in a warning snarl to anyone who might even consider thinking about possibly looking in her direction. A very primal part of him growled mine!

  Time slowed to a crawl as he crossed the floor. Every step jarred his already-charged nerves, ratcheting up the tension building in him. He had to touch her, had to hold her. By the time he stood before her, a thousand years had passed, and the band started playing a slow number.

  “May I?” he asked, offering his hand, his gaze holding hers tight.

  She didn’t speak, but her warm fingers slipped between his, and a hint of a smile touched her mesmerizing cerulean eyes. He led her to the dance floor, pointedly ignoring the stares of those around them, and pulled her into his body, his hand sliding dangerously low on her back.

  The way their bodies melded together so perfectly as they swayed, made him think thoughts that were probably better left for the bedroom. The way his body reacted definitely wasn’t suited for public display. As close as they were, she had to know the effect she had on him, but she didn’t pull away. Neither did he.

  They moved together, lost in each other, until the song ended, replaced by an uptempo number. Only then did she move away from him, but he quickly pulled her back.

  “Um, give me a second,” he said with a grin.

  He loved her laugh, and the way her long blonde hair streamed down her shoulders. His fingers had tangled themselves in it during their dance, and now he held on for dear life.

  “Say something to distract me from wanting to touch you all over.”

  She grinned up at him. “Why would I do that?”

  His groan of frustration brought another light laugh.

  “Okay, okay. I did want to tell you that Sophia is with Zoe tonight, in case you were worried.”

  The twinkle in her eye made it clear she knew the truth — he hadn’t thought about Sophia once since Lex entered the room. He never said he was father of the year, but talking about his daughter certainly did the trick.

  “C’mon, let’s get out of here,” he said, clasping her hand.

  Before they could take two steps, the music died, and a guy Grayson recognized as Rick Mason, a sheriff deputy at the local county substation and current mayor, took up the mic.

  “Welcome, everyone, to Yosemite Flats’ Annual Mayor’s Ball! As the current mayor, it’s my honor to announce my replacement. But first, let’s give a big round of applause to tonight’s entertainment, the Yosemite Flat Tops!”

  The crowd went wild and Grayson looked for a way to sneak out without being seen. As a new transplant, though, he didn’t want to get on anyone’s bad side so early by sneaking away during an important town event. The point was moot anyway, because he and Lex were packed smack in the middle of the growing crowd.

  The contenders for the honorary position of “mayor” stood off to the side, waiting to hear the results. The happily divorced Joe and Joanne Obermeyer stood at either end of the line-up, ignoring each other as Rick read off all the candidates and their totals from lowest earners to highest.

  As each person’s name was read, they were given a handshake and a hearty round of applause for raising money for charity, then they took their place in the audience. The line-up grew shorter and shorter until only two remained — the Obermeyers.

  A hush fell over the crowd, and Grayson found himself groping for Lex’s hand. The tension was unbearable. He felt like a rubbernecker at the scene of a car wreck, but he wouldn’t have been able to tear himself away from the next few minutes unless Lex stripped naked and dragged him out. And even that was questionable, though he wouldn’t mind if she tried.

  “Before we get to the final tallies,” Rick said, drawing a groan from the keyed-up crowd, “we need to thank our sponsors.” Joe and Joanne glared at each other as Rick stalled for time by listing off every imaginable business in the area who had the slightest thing to do with the contest and ball, dragging out the suspense like a bad reality TV show. “And finally, thanks to Grayson Conrad of The Eyrie at Yosemite Flats for supplying all the booze for tonight’s shindig!”

  The slightly inebriated crowd forgot all about the drama about to unfold, as they cheered the man who picked up their tab. He didn’t fool himself though. Their adoration would last only as long as the drinks did. After that, he would be on his own. Still, he smiled and gratefully accepted their thanks, relieved that he hadn’t tried to sneak out with Lex after all. They certainly would have noticed his absence after that big announcement.

  “And now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” Rick continued, silencing the raucous group. He ripped open a manila envelope and pulled the very tip of a piece of paper out. “The winner of the 36th annual Yosemite Flats mayoral contest is…” Slowly, ever so slowly, he inched the paper out of the envelope, teasing everyone.

  Finally, some local boy in the front had enough and threw an empty red plastic cup at him. “Hurry up!”

  “Fine, fine.” Rick laughed and pulled the paper out entirely. His eyes widened and he glanced at the Obermeyers. Then back at the paper. Then back to the Obermeyers. “Well, I’ll be…”

  Lex squeezed Grayson’s fingers, clearly as anxious as he was to hear the results. She could deny it all she wanted, but life in Yosemite Flats suited her. Now if only she could admit that to herself.

  “Folks, for the first time in history…we have a tie!”

  Shouts and laughter and applause exploded in the community center as Joe and Joanne gaped at each other. Joanne was the first to move by balling up a tiny fist and hitting Joe in the arm. As she swept past him to grab the mic from Rick, Joe grinned and pumped his fist in the air. The crowd went nuts.

  “I promise to serve our wonderful community with dignity and respect for all,” Joanne began, valiantly trying to be heard above the clamor, before Joe snatched the mic from her and chanted, “USA! USA! USA!”

  Grayson felt a tug on his hand. Lex jerked her head and he happily followed her out of the chaotic hall, enjoying the view. Glancing behind them and down the hallway, she pulled him into the school’s art room. As soon as the door closed behind them, she shoved him up against it and gaz
ed up at him with a heat that set him on fire. When she spoke, he had no choice but to comply.

  “Kiss me, you idiot.”

  Chapter Eight

  The moment Grayson’s lips finally — finally! — met hers, her breath hitched in her chest and her consciousness narrowed into a bright, pinpoint of light. None of those teasing, feathery almost-kisses designed to drive her mad. He claimed her mouth like he really meant it, and she responded in kind.

  Tremors of desire coursed through her when he cupped her face with one hand and buried his fingers into her hair with the other. The sheer weight of her need for this man caused her knees to buckle out from under her, and she had to snake her arms around his neck for support. When she sighed with pleasure, he groaned and spun her around, pinning her against the door.

  Tipping her head back, she whispered his name, drawing another growl from him as he kissed his way down the length of her neck and along her collarbone. Her flesh, and other bits, pebbled in response.

  “I’ve wanted to do this since you walked in the door.”

  His hot breath against her skin drove her to distraction. All she could do was hang onto fistfuls of his jacket and try not to faint from happiness.

  Grayson was finally kissing her! After a month of dancing around their mutual and growing attraction, it was happening. Given the tension between them over the last week, she’d resigned herself to never knowing what his soft, plump lips would feel like against hers. This had saddened her beyond measure, so the joy she experienced in this moment nearly overwhelmed her.

  “My God, Lex,” he breathed, pulling back to search her face and scan her disheveled and quivering body. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

  So had she. From the moment he caught her in his arms in the Starbucks parking lot, and every moment since. Smiling up into his heated gaze, she said, “I’m all yours.”

  He blinked once, then three times in quick succession. When his eyes focused on her again, a sinking feeling settled in her tummy.