by Leah Vale
No. She stopped the thought in its tracks as she pulled into her driveway. She refused to take the blame for that jerk.
Though she kept telling herself this lunch date with Jack was for show, she didn’t see any reason to meet him smelling of a fat little pony with serious stomach issues. Besides, she’d decided the tan turtleneck she’d settled on this morning, while it went well with her hair, didn’t look as good on her as the red one did.
So she bailed from her truck and blasted into the house through her side door. She startled her cats who were sleeping in their beds on the dryer and excited the dog who, because of how cold the day was, for once, was hanging out in the house instead of taking advantage of his doggie door to be outside. They weren’t used to her coming home so early on a workday.
“No time to chat, guys. I got me a man to meet.”
They all blinked at her like she’d lost her marbles, which she very likely had, agreeing to Jack’s scheme in the first place. It was too late now, so she might as well look good while she acted crazy.
She yanked off her work boots and hustled through the kitchen, nearly missing the blinking red light on her answering machine. Backpedaling, her wool socks slick on the linoleum, she stopped in front of the phone with its built-in message recording machine and stared at it. Who would be calling her here during the day? Everyone knew that if they wanted to reach her on any day but Sunday, they needed to leave a message at the vet clinic. Even Jack never called her at home. The only person who called her here…was…
Mom.
On Sunday nights at 7:00 p.m. exactly, without fail or variation. A chill raced down Melinda’s spine.
Something must be wrong. The chill turned to a soul-freezing dread. What if something had happened to her father? Mom had complained for years that he wouldn’t take care of himself properly, but his stubbornness and pride kept him from admitting he was getting old. Could the decades of hard labor on the farm that he had refused to allow Melinda to help him run have finally caught up with him?
There was only one way to find out.
Her hand shook in a telling way when she reached to push the play button. As much pain as her father had caused her over the years for not loving her the way she needed him to love her, she didn’t want him sick, hurt or…She pushed the thought away as if thinking it could make it true.
The message machine clicked and whirred, then her mother’s clipped, efficient voice filled the kitchen. “Melinda, it’s Mom. I’m sorry for disturbing you during the week—”
Melinda rolled her eyes. She’d told her mother time and again that she could call her anytime, but Mom insisted that Sunday evening worked for her, and became indignant if Melinda tried calling her at any other time or before her mom had a chance to call first. It was Mom’s routine, and Melinda had finally learned to accept it.
“—but I just heard from one of the neighbors about a news report that aired last night.”
Melinda’s heart stalled, then sprang into a stampede of pounding in her chest. She hadn’t considered for one second that her parents might see the story.
“I didn’t see it myself, of course. You know I only watch the weather and farm reports. At any rate, please call me when you have a moment. Again, this is your mother. Bye.” The machine clicked off, leaving the kitchen oppressively silent.
Melinda stared at the phone. Good heavens, what was she supposed to do now? She couldn’t lie to her mother. There was no other option than to let her mom in on the charade. It wasn’t as if Mom would be speaking to anyone in Jester any time soon.
Melinda would just stress the fact that she was helping her friend and co-worker, Jack, out so they could get back to helping the animals that needed them. It was no big deal.
It was no big deal she repeated to herself as she reached for the phone and dialed her parents’ number. Mom would be getting Dad his lunch about now. Dad might even be in the kitchen, himself, though why it mattered, she didn’t know. He might want to speak with her this time, because she was supposedly getting married….
Her mother answered on the second ring.
“Hi, Mom.” Thankfully her voice held steady.
“Melinda! I didn’t expect to hear from you for hours, yet. How’s the weather there?”
“It’s cold, Mom. And snowing. I think. The reason why I’m calling now is, I, ah, I had to stop by the house for, ah, something. Something I needed to do here at home.” There was no way Melinda was going to tell her mother she’d come home to primp before meeting Jack. She hated admitting it to herself, let alone anyone else.
“I’m getting your father his lunch right now.”
Melinda fidgeted at the mention of her dad. She couldn’t believe how much she still wanted his approval. “Ah, yeah, I figured you would be. That’s why I called. I thought maybe I’d get a chance to talk to both of you.”
“But it’s not a good time, Melinda. You know how your father doesn’t like his routine disturbed.”
“I know.” But she’d always wondered how much of that stemmed from her mother’s need for sameness. “I just thought this would be a good time to return your call and talk to you about my supposed enga—”
“It’s really not a good time, dear. I only called you to let you know we’d heard the news and to pass on our congratulations.”
“But don’t you want to know—”
“We trust you to have made a good decision about your life, Melinda. We know you’ll do what you need to do to be happy. Now, I really must go. And I suppose I don’t need to call you this Sunday, since I’ve already checked in with you this week and know you’re fine. You take care, now, and give Jack our best. Bye.” Her mother hung up without waiting for a response.
Melinda stood there stupidly as the dial tone kicked on and hummed in her ear. She couldn’t believe her mother hadn’t wanted to know more about her engagement.
She blew out a weary breath as she hung up the phone. Actually, she could believe it. That’s the way things were in her family. It was little wonder the closest bonds she’d ever formed were with animals.
She scoffed it off and headed for her bedroom to change.
But her mom and dad trusted her to make the right choice. So was she making the right choice in agreeing to Jack’s charade?
If only she knew for sure.
What she did know for sure was that she couldn’t let the fact that her and Jack’s engagement wasn’t real get back to her parents now. She’d rather have them think it ended with a breakup than risk them thinking she’d made a foolish choice.
She’d never earn their respect otherwise.
MELINDA’S HANDS were slick on the chrome handle when she pulled open the door to The Brimming Cup diner. Jack was already there. She’d seen him seated in one of the six booths against the big front windows when she pulled up in her truck. But thanks to the phone call to her mom and an inability to settle on a hairstyle, she was really late.
Feeling very self-conscious from this unaccustomed explosion of vanity and insecurity about her choices, she could only give Shelly O’Rourke, the newly married and always friendly owner of the diner, a small smile as she went by where the brunette stood behind the counter.
Shelly’s smile was broad and a knowing sparkle lit her hazel eyes. She tucked her chin-length, dark brown hair behind her ear and said, “Good to see you, Melinda.”
“Same, Shelly,” Melinda returned softly. While she had on occasion come into the diner for breakfast, Melinda usually packed a lunch so she could eat it on the way to a call or at her desk while she did paperwork. She had treated Shelly’s cat, though, and the old tabby tomcat gave them a connection, of sorts.
She paused and asked Shelly, “How’s Sean Connery?”
“He’s doing great. Spoiled rotten, as usual.”
Melinda didn’t doubt it in the least. “Good. He’s a great cat,” she said awkwardly and continued toward Jack.
Jack looked up from the printed list of the day’s speci
als. His smile was far from shy. It actually seemed overly bright. He slid from the bench seat and stood. “Hey, Mel—Melinda,” he greeted her when she reached him, then shocked the bejeezus out of her by bending and landing a quick kiss on her lips.
She would have choked on her own spit if she hadn’t caught the warning in his gaze. She took a quick, subtle look around. Every gaze in the place was fastened on them, clearly eager to witness her and Jack’s inaugural foray into the realm of the romantically involved.
Ignoring the tingling his lightning-fast peck had left in its wake, she looked back at Jack and reassured him with a bright smile of her own as she slid into the booth. Thank goodness the red of her top would blend with, and hopefully make unnoteworthy, the fiery heat she could feel in her cheeks. But Jack had been right to kiss her. If they were going to convince people that they were really involved, they’d better act like it.
At least he hadn’t really kissed her, with any kind of depth or emotion. She probably would have fainted dead away on the spot if he had. There was no doubt in her mind that Jack could perform some serious magic with that mouth of his if he put his mind to the task. The sort of magic her imagination had tortured her with on many occasions, usually late at night in her lonely bed.
He moved to sit down again on the opposite side of the booth from her, but stopped himself, glancing around them much the way she had. Instead of reclaiming his original seat, he stepped to her side of the table and slid into the booth next to her, his hips and thighs bumping into her as he continued to scoot toward her as she scooted as fast as she could on the light blue vinyl.
Very crowded by his big body and aware of the heat radiating through his shirt and jeans, she nonetheless smiled. She should enjoy this, she reminded herself. Moments like these were her one and only chance to be close to Jack.
He met her gaze and shrugged. Leaning his head close, he murmured, “It’s probably overkill, but everyone has been dying for you to get here after I mentioned you’d be joining me.”
She nodded mutely. He was close enough that she could smell the spicy remnants of his aftershave mingled with the warm, musky male smell of him over the sharp scent of the antibacterial soap they always used to wash their hands.
Even with talking to her mom, stopping by home to freshen up had definitely been a good call. Not only did she now look collected and capable, but she wouldn’t make Jack wish he’d picked a different woman for his little charade.
The thought that he could have easily accomplished his goal with someone else sobered her considerably. Her name had popped out of his mouth because he liked her—as his partner in the veterinary practice. Keeping that in mind would make it easier for her when he left. She hoped.
Shelly came up to them beaming. “Hey, you two. Congratulations! I can’t believe you were able to keep something so big such a secret. I’m impressed.”
Being one of the Main Street Millionaires and having had a baby left on her doorstep by a local teen, Shelly undoubtedly knew firsthand what a spotlight Jack had been living in for the past couple months. But she’d still managed to find love with the town’s new doctor, Connor O’Rourke, and had maintained a big enough heart to take the teenager, Valerie Simms, in and give her a job here at the diner. The playpen tucked in the corner was for baby Max to play in when both Shelly and Valerie were working. Today Valerie must be home with baby Max.
Shelly had always been very kind and friendly toward Melinda, too. Unfortunately, talking to people was hard for Melinda. Focusing on her work was easier, safer. But for Jack’s sake, Melinda met Shelly’s warm hazel eyes and gave a similar version of the story he’d told Amanda and Gwen this morning. “We wanted people to get to know me as a vet before they started thinking of me as Jack’s fiancée.”
Shelly gave her a reassuring smile. “Trust me, people will still think of you as you, whether you’re hooked up with this stud muffin or not.” She gave Jack a playful shove that sent him rocking against Melinda.
He was so warm and solid Melinda had to fight the urge to wrap her arms around him to keep him there.
Jack laughed and straightened, taking the ribbing good-naturedly. “Say, Shel, has that stray dog been in your dumpster lately?” he asked, deftly changing the subject.
Taking out her order pad, she shook her head. “Not since I started leaving scraps for it. Though it won’t come near them until I’ve gone back inside.”
“Shelly! No wonder I can’t get him to take the bait in the trap.”
She shrugged guiltily. “I can’t help it, Jack. The poor thing looks like it’s starving.”
“Which is why I’m trying to trap him, Shel.”
Shelly grimaced. “Sorry, Jack. I’ll stop.”
“Thank you.”
“What can I get you two lovebirds for lunch?” Shelly did a little subject changing, herself.
Jack nodded for Melinda to go first, pressing back against the booth so she didn’t have to lean around him to be heard. His gentlemanly behavior wasn’t lost on her, and she flashed him a quick smile as she ordered one of Shelly’s fancy gourmet sandwiches that she occasionally tacked on to the traditional diner fare.
His turn, Jack said, “It’s Friday, right?”
Shelly nodded. “All day.”
He smirked. “Then I’ll have your clam chowder.”
“Daily special, it is. Congratulations again, you guys,” Shelly said before she took their order back to Dan, her cook.
Jack readjusted himself on the padded seat and crossed his arms on the gray Formica tabletop. “I feel a little better now knowing why my trap hasn’t worked.”
Melinda nodded. Though he hadn’t said much about it, she knew Jack had considered his inability to capture the stray an affront to his skill as a veterinarian. “He hasn’t been hungry enough to risk going in after the bait. But once Shelly stops leaving him scraps, it shouldn’t be too long before he goes after it.”
“But Shelly isn’t the only softy in town. I can’t believe it didn’t occur to me that people might be feeding him in some way or another. Probably because he’s pretty fierce looking.”
“Huh. Some want that stray shot because they think he’s a wolf, and some want to feed him because they think he’s a pitiful dog. It’s all about perception, I guess.”
He dropped his chin and looked at her, drawing her into the green fields of his eyes. “Kinda like how the Websters won’t let you vaccinate their hogs because all they see is a pretty young woman too delicate for the job, while Finn made a point of calling me right after you left his place to tell me how great you were with his grandkids’ pony. He said you’re small enough not to spook the animal but no-nonsense enough to let it know who’s boss.”
The praise warmed her ears. Thinking of her father’s unwavering convictions and her lifelong failure to make a dent in them, she asked, “Do you think it’s really possible to change someone’s perception?”
He shrugged, and moved his leg, his hard thigh coming to rest against her knee.
Every muscle from the point of contact all the way to her jaw tightened in response. Her body didn’t seem to get the message that they were pretending, either.
“With a skill and knowledge of animals like yours, it’s a sure bet.” He sounded so certain. No wonder he’d agreed to her conditions. He figured he’d have her accepted and be out of here in no time. His praise suddenly became bittersweet.
Before she could decide if she should thank him or argue with him, old Henry Faulkner, with his sparse gray hair unkempt, his glasses smudged and his clothes wrinkled, came into the diner and headed directly to their table. Despite being seventy-seven years old, Henry was one of Jack’s good friends—another connection to the town he seemed unaware of. Henry’s grin was wide and looked heartfelt—something Melinda couldn’t recall ever seeing from Henry before.
He’d always struck her as melancholy, despite the camaraderie he shared with Finn and Dean Kenning while they sat inside Dean’s barbershop every af
ternoon. Like Jack, he was still mourning the death of his wife, who had passed away ten years ago.
But unlike Jack, Henry had let the loss of his wife affect more than just his heart. He clearly didn’t take care of himself, and despite being one of the lottery winners and all the time he spent with good friends either in Dean’s barbershop or here at the diner, he didn’t seem to enjoy life much.
Henry slapped a frail-looking hand down on Jack’s shoulder. “Jack, my boy! I just heard the good word. Price I pay for napping during the evening news, I guess. But I couldn’t be happier for you, son. Nope. Couldn’t be happier. Dolly would have been pleased, also.” He patted Jack’s shoulder. “About damn time, too, if you ask me. Salt of the earth fellow like you.”
Henry gestured to Melinda with his other hand, his watery eyes glowing. “And she’s cute as a bug. Just be careful not to squash her, now.”
Melinda fought not to roll her eyes, knowing he meant well. Jack’s face was turned mostly toward Henry, but the cords of his neck stood out, like he had his jaw clenched tight. He probably didn’t like the notion of lying to such a good friend. He’d started the charade, though, so he’d have to find a way to deal with the guilt.
Personally, she didn’t like the taste of it. Her goal was to get these people to respect her, yet here she was disrespecting them in one of the worst ways possible. Jack might have started the charade, but now that she’d signed on, that she’d in essence lied to her own mother, she bore equal responsibility. They had to make it work.
Henry chuckled at his own joke, then patted at Jack’s shoulder. “I’ll let you kids alone and head back over to my spot at Dean’s, but I wanted to tell you I’m glad. Damn glad. You’re too young to end up like me.”
Henry shuffled off, and she waited for Jack to say something, but all he did was glance at her, his expression unreadable before looking away again. She wanted to reassure him that they’d make their sham engagement work for everyone’s benefit, but she couldn’t come up with the right words.
