by Emma Roman
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her out of the box-filled room to the couch in the main living space. The floral scent of her hair wafted to him with each step. He wanted to bury his face in her silky tresses and breathe even deeper, but seeing as how he was still pretty much a stranger, she might find that kind of advance highly inappropriate.
By the time they reached the living room, she was walking better. His hand slid to the small of her back, directing her to the couch he and his friends had just moved into place. “You sit down. Let me get you a glass of water.”
No argument. Just a nod and her body sank onto the bright red-orange cushion.
He returned to her side a moment later with a plastic cup of water.
“Thank you.” Her voice had returned to normal. Her breathing wasn’t strained any more. “You’ve been my knight and shining armor since you walked across the street. I can’t thank you enough. You didn’t have to—”
“You could come with me to Hollywood, instead of setting me up.” Holy shit. He’d said it. Actually come out and straight up asked her to be his date.
Her face darkened and regret slammed into him like the first rejection letter he’d ever received from a Hollywood studio, ripping out his heart and tossing it into the meat grinder of despair and failure.
“I c-can’t. You’re a client. I agreed to find you a date, not be your date. It wouldn’t be professional or ethical of me to—”
“It’s fine,” Mick said, shrugging his shoulders. “I get it.” Though the half second of hesitation in her voice gave hope to his otherwise crushed desires. She hadn’t said “I won’t” just “I can’t”, which meant it was possible to still win her over. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Just because it wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d hoped, didn’t mean the struggle would be more than worth the fight. He just had to get her to see it too.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“You have to do what you feel is right.” And so do I. So game on. I will change your mind before Valentines.
“Thank you for understanding.” A small sigh slipped from between her lips and some of the darkness lifted from her features.
He wanted to see her smile again. See those beautiful blue eyes light with amusement and laughter the way they had only a few minutes before his fateful question.
“I’m going to get that bed together for you before I call it a night. You think you can find some sheets without knocking over any more boxes?” He left her side, grabbing his toolbox from the entry where he’d set it and took hold of the bannister.
“I’ll be careful. Thank you.”
A nod and a dozen steps took him to the second floor of the farmhouse. He made the turn toward the master bedroom and knelt beside the disassembled cherry wood bed frame. It didn’t take more than a few minutes to have it upright and fitted together.
The metal supports in the center took a little more effort, but he had most of them in place before she waltzed through the bedroom door, arms full of dark pink sheets. Amusement tugged at his lips, but he kept the teasing comment to himself. If she wanted to sleep on pink sheets that was her prerogative. Not like the color would keep him from joining her once she asked for his company.
“It looks great. Thank you so much for this.” She dropped the sheets on the cream-colored carpet and helped him settle the box springs into place and then the king-sized pillow top mattress.
“Happy to help.” Mick tipped his chin toward the sheets on the floor. “Sheets?”
“Oh, I—” The agreement in her voice dissipated suddenly. And the relaxation in her face turned to stress before he could even think the words damn it. “I’ll take care of it. But thank you again so much for your help.” She backed away from the bed, never dropping her gaze from him, not even once. “I’ll see you in the morning, right? At the Wild Crumb?”
“You’ll have something put together that fast?”
She nodded. “I already have several potential women in mind for you. I’m sure we’ll be able to find the perfect date for your function. And congratulations again on the achievement. You’re writing must be superb to catch the eye of a Hollywood contest.”
If that wasn’t a dismissal, he didn’t know what was… Mick returned his tools to the open box on the floor and grabbed the handle. “I’ll get out of your hair and let you get some rest. Thanks for the dinner, Laurel.”
“Absolutely. And I’ll see you in the morning.” She backed another step away, like just being near him had suddenly become astronomically more difficult.
Attraction had been there. He’d been sure. But now, she was colder than a wet blanket in a barn and more anxious than Gary’s dog in a thunderstorm. Her hand was practically shaking at her side.
Give it time Ramsey. You spooked her a little, is all.
Laurel waved from the front door. Mick didn’t return the gesture, instead giving her a forlorn smile. Knowing she’d annoyed him or hurt him gnawed at her insides, but it was for the best. She couldn’t do a relationship right now. Lance had left her a mess and she wasn’t good for anyone. Not in this state. Plus she’d just gotten divorced. Less than thirty days a free woman and she couldn’t stop thinking about the flannel-wearing-bearded-sexy-lumberjack-screenwriter who’d randomly spent most of his evening with her and then called his friends to the rescue at her house.
Who did that? He’d been attracted to her. She could tell that right off the bat, even before he asked her out on his Hollywood escapade to the Oscars. For a second she’d considered it. He was kind and sweet and deserved someone better than her.
She was broken and angry and still trying to heal from the holes Lance had put through her heart and soul. Plus, she couldn’t date the first man who walked through her door, no matter how sexy he was. What kind of reputation would that start for her business in the town?
Guilt from using the attraction Mick had felt toward her for personal benefit hung heavy on her shoulders. No matter how she sought to justify her behavior, she’d led him on. It’d been purposeful at first. He’d been so nice at the store. It shouldn’t have ever been more than that, but then when the delivery guy had called and told her it was the porch or wait three more weeks she’d stopped being the pretty-girl-using-her-looks-to-survive and had actually needed saving. The desk she could’ve eventually figured out.
But moving appliances and couches and a massive cherry-wood bed—that was beyond her capabilities. He had rescued her. And she’d looked at him with goo-goo eyes again, burying the warning reminder that she’d agreed to take him on as a client.
Telling him “no” had taken every shred of willpower, but she couldn’t get involved with him. With anyone.
She needed more time.
At least that’s what she told herself as she climbed the stairs back to her bedroom.
7
The Wild Crumb was buzzing with life. A line for their famed coffee stretched out the door not long after he’d arrived and snagged a table for the meeting with Laurel. The hum of conversations around him blended together like white noise, but when she walked through the front door it was like the silence of church descended.
She was all that existed.
Her long dark hair was braided down one side of her head, the tail trailing down past her collarbone, grazing the top of her breast. He blinked, wishing his hand could take the place of her hair would not get him any closer to his prize. She wore a long navy blue dress, that just skimmed the tops of her feet with each step. The material was gauzy and flowed around her long legs, accentuating their every muscle. Mick’s mouth watered at the image of those perfect legs naked and wrapped around him.
“Mick?” Her voice cut through his daydream and he blinked. She was standing directly in front of him. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, fine.” He laughed and gestured to the seat across from his. “Please, sit,” he answered, standing to help her push in her chair.
“Such a gentleman. Your date is going to be a
lucky woman.” She hooked her bag over the corner of the chair back and smiled brightly.
God, she was gorgeous and…happy again. His miscalculation last night apparently hadn’t dampened her mood.
She pulled out a stack of papers from her tote bag and thunked them onto the table in front of her.
The candidates. Of course. He could play this game. Eventually she would agree that the only choice for him was the woman sitting in front of him the entire time. For now he’d bide his time and find out what exactly was hindering Laurel from taking a chance. It was almost Valentine’s Day. Love was practically in the air, right along with his overly romanticized fantasies of taking Laurel Hart on an official date.
“I’ve put together three profiles. The women were very friendly and are actively looking for a significant other. Two of them contacted me only a few days ago.”
“How did they know what you did?”
“I’m quite sure my realtor put out the word.”
“Edie Grantham?” Mick asked, leaning forward to take a closer glance at the folders.
“Yes, how did you know?” Laurel opened the first folder and picture of one of his buddies ex-girlfriends stared up at him.
“Edie does her best to know everything about everyone, especially new people in town.” He shook his head and pointed at the blonde in the photo. “That’s my buddy’s ex, Penelope. No go. They just broke up a few weeks ago.”
“Oh.” The tiniest hint of elation fluttered across her face, but she masked it quickly. Laurel put the file back into her tote and opened the next one. This time a familiar brunette face smiled up from a stack of papers. “This young woman was very sweet on the phone. Loves animals. Works up at—”
“The animal shelter. I know, Jordan VonBrandt too. I dated her sister, Judith, before she got married.”
“You’re not going to make this easy are you?” Laurel smiled, sliding Jordan’s file back into her tote with Penelope’s.
“I told you there wasn’t anyone in town for me. It’s tough here. Either all the women went to school and grew up with me, or they’re involved with one of my friends…or were. I don’t cross that line.”
A heavy sigh slipped from Laurel’s lips. Mick couldn’t tell this time if she was relieved or frustrated. “I have one more. Maybe the third time’s a charm.” She flipped open the last folder on the table. “This is Felicity, do you know her?”
Mick scrunched his forehead and frowned down at the perky blonde in the photo. Bleached hair, blue eyes, and makeup that probably hid every single truth. Still, he didn’t know any Felicity. Couldn’t remember her from school. Couldn’t remember her from anywhere in town. “No.”
“She’s from Dallas, so I was hoping you wouldn’t.” Laurel’s voice carried a tone of victory, but there was still an underlying hint of dejection. Was the chemistry between them obvious to her too, or did she really want to match him up with a stranger? He couldn’t tell for sure. “Felicity is an old almost-client of mine. She works from home as a copy editor, I thought she might be a good fit. After all, you’re both writers.”
As much as he hated to admit it, her logic was sound. Maybe it would be nice to pair off with someone who would truly understand his passion for writing. Long nights in front of their respective computer screens. Deadlines giving them both the motivation to keep working. No one to ever interrupt them. Geeeeze, that sounds boring, now that I think about it.
“I’m not sure—”
“You’re going to say no before you’ve even met her? One test date. You don’t have a lot of time left before your trip. Valentines is also just a couple days away. Perfect timing for spontaneous romance to bloom.”
Did she even hear the words coming out of her mouth? She certainly didn’t sound like she believed them. Mick forced a smile forward and nodded. He disliked the thought of dragging someone else into this, someone who was probably a perfectly nice woman—even if a little more on the made-up side than he preferred. But Laurel seemed set on it. And set against putting herself out there at all. Maybe that was the key.
“Sounds great! So do I call her or you? How do we set up this test date?” His bolstered enthusiasm hit Laurel exactly where he wanted it to. Her face lit with victory and defeat all in the same breath.
She was interested in him, just refusing to give it a chance. But finding him a date, though a victory for her business, had been a personal loss. That knowledge alone gave him the ability to forge ahead. She’d cave. Eventually. Hopefully. In the mean time he’d try not to hurt Felicity’s feelings.
“I’ll call and set it up for tomorrow night. Gives you a little time to prepare and for her to drive down from Dallas. Dress nice. I’ll set you a reservation at the Boiler Room for 8pm.”
That was fast.
“I know it’s quick, but since Valentines is Saturday, I’d hate for that to be your first date. But if this goes well, there’s no reason you couldn’t ask her out again for the next evening.”
He wanted to say—Yeah, that’s not going to happen when it’s you I intend to take on a Valentines date—but instead he continued to play along. “Sounds good. So I’ll meet her there?”
“Yes, it gives both parties a little more control—er…safety—to set up the first meeting this way. Not that I’m worried about you being strange or anything.”
A laugh rumbled up through Mick’s chest. “You never can tell. You know what they say about the quiet ones.”
Her eyebrows raised in concern for a split second before her lips parted in a kissable smile. God, he wanted to kiss her. Right there across the table. She made his blood heat with just a glance. If she’d ever grace him with a hungry look, he fall to his knees right there in front of her. “Just when I think I’ve got you figured out Mick Ramsey, you go and say something surprising.”
“How about some food before I head off to the feed store? It would be a shame to come to the Wild Crumb and not have one of their muffins or bagels?”
Laurel glanced away from him and toward the line at the front of the restaurant stretching out the front door. “It looks like a long wait.” Her voice dipped with just enough disappointment to make Mick smile. At least she wasn’t one of those girls who believed food was evil.
“Give me just a sec. What do you want to eat?”
“I have to admit, one of those cinnamon bagels and the cinnamon-apple cream cheese would be delightful, but I don’t have time to sit here another hour to wait for it.”
Mick pulled his cell from his pocket and glanced at the counter. His cousin Trish was working this morning and she always had her phone on her. He texted her and put his phone face down on the table. They had two bagels and spread set before them, no more than three minutes later. Trish ruffled his mess of morning hair and gave them both a wide grin.
“So glad to see my cousin getting out of his house a little more. Y’all have fun.”
Laurel narrowed her eyes and glared, not maliciously, just with determination, like she was trying to see through his skull into the inner workings of his brain. “You knew you didn’t have to stand in that line.” It wasn’t a question, but he chose to answer anyway.
“Yep.”
She ripped off a small piece of the bagel and dipped into the spread, before putting it into her mouth. The sound of pure delight emanating from Laurel was worth alerting his cousin to his interest in the newcomer. Trish would definitely be checking in with him later, but at this point Mick didn’t care. Now he just had to get through a date with someone name Felicity so he could put his focus back on figuring out how to get Laurel on a date the very next evening.
“Tell me about yourself, Laurel. What do you like to do for fun?”
Her eyes sparked with suspicion, but she answered his question between bites. “I’ve found reading to be a very pleasurable pastime lately, especially paranormal romance. Never thought I’d be into the whole broody vampire stories, but I really have enjoyed them.”
“Difficult to compete with a
supernatural hero.”
Her brows shot up and she looked like that last bite of her bagel took a little longer to go down. “I’m not expecting any competition for quite a while. So I guess I’m not worried,” she finally squeaked out.
Mick squelched the chuckle that wanted to roll up from his chest. Just you wait. “You haven’t sworn off men or anything drastic like that have you?”
“Why all the questions? I’m the one setting you up, remember.” Her words were confident, but her bright eyes were veiled with uncertainty.
“I’m just being friendly.” He gave her a wide smile, satisfied that her resistance to a possible date with yours truly was waning. “Are you reading An Interview With A Vampire? Or something a little sexier?”
Her nostrils flared and her brows shot up a second time.
Something sexier for sure.
“Please tell me the vampires don’t sparkle.” He had no chance in hell, if those teenage angsty heroes were what she was attracted to. He was probably the equivalent of Grizzly Adams when it came to romance novel description. No angst for him.
A mischievous smile turned up the corners of her mouth and Mick felt his heart melt into a puddle right in that moment.
“No sparkles,” she replied.
“So broody and bearded?”
A light pink flush crept up her cheeks and Mick had to smother a groan. At least that’d answered his question about the beard. He’d been about to go home and shave in hopes of eliminating a deterrence. Why wouldn’t this woman just admit she was interested? Was her new business so important that she had no room in her life for the possibility of something more? Her ex-husband must’ve really done a number on her. The thought of a man leaving Laurel or hurting her made Mick’s stomach turn. Biggest. Idiot. On. The. Planet.
She stood from her chair, slung her large bag over her shoulder, and gave him the determined I-mean-business look he’d already figured out was her signature go-to face. “I’ll make the necessary arrangements. You need to dress nice and be at the Boiler Room a little before eight. Bring some flowers too.”
