Best of Virgins Bundle

by Cathy Williams

  Miss Marchand harrumphed and shook her head at the bike. “I came down here to offer my congratulations. I overheard you in the Sav-a-Lot, saying you two were engaged. I don’t know if you meant it to go public, but the news about you two has spread all over town. Why, I even heard the girls talking about it in Flo’s Cut and Go yesterday afternoon.”

  “You did?” Katie gulped. That fast?

  “Katie, this is Mercy. If there’s anything the people here are good at, it’s talking about everyone else. They all want to know how you kept Matt a secret all this time and why—”

  “I know you,” Miss Tanner interrupted. She’d finally managed to drag her dog over. “You’re that Matt Webster.”

  The Doberman escaped her grasp and began nosing Katie.

  “We met at the wedding. Your first one.” She shook her head, disapproval etched into her lips. “I told my niece she was making a mistake by marrying you. I knew you’d amount to trouble.”

  The Doberman, now unattended, jumped on Katie’s chest and began licking her face. She pushed at the dog, trying to get him down, but he only grew more persistent, as if he’d mistaken her for a steak. Miss Tanner was oblivious to her dog’s actions, her attention riveted on Matt.

  “Colleen, you’re being awfully harsh.” Miss Marchand shook her head. “And Katie doesn’t need to hear this.”

  “Oh, yes she does. He left Olivia.” Miss Tanner eyed Matt with disdain. “Left her to fend for herself.”

  “I left her with a hefty divorce settlement.” Matt reached out, grabbed the big dog’s collar, tugged him away from Katie and into a sitting position. The Doberman turned his head, looking very surprised that someone had actually stopped him from being bad, and stayed put. Thank goodness the dog’s horrendous breath was no longer in Katie’s face.

  “Olivia needed you,” Miss Tanner retorted.

  “She had me. She didn’t really want me to begin with.”

  “I heard all about you and none of it was good.” She turned to Katie. “You’d do well to stay away from this man, particularly as a woman with a business in this town.”

  “Colleen! You can’t believe—or repeat—everything you hear, especially in a small town.” Miss Marchand patted Matt’s arm. The Doberman, apparently seeing this as an opportunity, raced over and began slobbering all over Matt’s hand. “Give the man a little breathing room before you condemn him. You too, Sweet Pea,” she said to the dog.

  Katie saw Matt’s eyebrows arch and his eyes widen. His mouth dropped open but not a sound came out. Clearly he hadn’t expected Miss Marchand to come to his defense. The older woman leaned closer to Matt. Her deep pink dress flapped around her knees in the spring breeze, like a sheet pinned to a clothesline.

  “You always came to my class. I never knew why. I thought perhaps you had an appreciation for flora and fauna.” She shrugged. “Now, be a dear and put to rest a question that’s been nagging this old woman for years. Why did you attend my class and skip all the others?”

  “You encouraged me. In the things I really wanted to do.” He said the words casually, as if it wasn’t any big deal, but Katie got the opposite impression. “You helped me enroll in that after-school construction program. You said I shouldn’t be ashamed of making my living with my hands because it was honest work.”

  “And did you make a living out of building things?”

  “I own the second-largest construction company in Pennsylvania.”

  Miss Tanner snorted. “Sure you do.”

  Miss Marchand smiled and patted his arm again, narrowly avoiding the eager Doberman’s tongue. “I knew you’d be successful. You just needed a push in the right direction.”

  “A shove was more like it,” Matt replied. “I’ve always wanted to thank you, Miss Marchand.”

  “You just did, my dear.” She turned and gave a short tug on the dachshund’s leash. She awoke with a start and hopped to her feet. “Come on, Colleen. Let’s finish our morning constitutional and leave these youngsters alone.”

  “But—”

  “Colleen, you said your piece. Now let’s walk down to Ray’s Donut Shop. You know a donut always helps settle your stomach after you get all riled up.”

  “A donut does sound good,” Miss Tanner conceded. She looked around for her dog and finally noticed him trying to gobble Matt’s hand. “Sweet Pea! Come on, baby, let’s go get you a cruller.” The dog’s ears perked up and he bounded over to his mistress, nearly toppling her.

  Miss Marchand turned to Katie. “I still think getting on that thing is asking for trouble, dear,” she said. She gave her hand a squeeze. “But I have a feeling Matt will watch out for you.”

  “I think you’re right.” Katie had always liked Miss Marchand, but after what had just transpired, she now admired her, too.

  Matt stood silently beside Katie, twirling his helmet in his hands. In his gaze, Katie saw traces of wonder. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one surprising the people of Mercy.

  Chapter Five

  After the Misses were gone, the street was quiet, save for the barking of a neighbor’s poodle and the soft chirps of morning birds. Pretty houses lined Cherry Street, neatly tended lawns enclosed by picket fences. A picture-perfect small town, where unfortunately, memories lasted longer than the stone monument of Lewis and Clark in the park. That reality suddenly hit Katie. By agreeing to this “deal” with Matt—a very public deal—she might have placed herself—and the store—in the middle of a quandary. A Pair of Posies needed Olivia Maguire’s business. Needed it badly. Already, the whole town had probably heard about her “engagement.” How would the ex-wife part of Olivia take that news? There seemed to be a lot of animosity there, if Miss Tanner was any indication.

  Had her plan for a little revenge on Steve and Barbara ruined everything?

  “Olivia is your ex-wife?”

  “Yes.” Matt slipped on his helmet and fastened the straps. He seated himself on the motorcycle easily, comfortably.

  “And?” Katie strapped her helmet on, then settled herself into the small space behind him.

  “And she’s one of my least favorite subjects. It’s been over between us for a long time.”

  Maybe it was over for Olivia, too. Surely, they were all grownups. Katie’s involvement with Matt, if that’s what it was, shouldn’t upset that apple cart too much.

  “Does she—” Katie stopped when Matt cut her off.

  “I’d rather not talk about her.” He flipped up the kickstand and straightened the bike. His hand hovered over the ignition. “Not right now, not with you pressed up against me. I’d much rather concentrate on how nice that feels.”

  She scooted closer, drawn by primitive need. Her body had a will of its own that had nothing whatsoever to do with her good-girl upbringing or worries about the store. Finding out more about Olivia no longer seemed so important, not with the warmth of Matt seeping into every pore.

  He flicked the key to the right, twisted the throttle. “Hang on tight.”

  That was an order she’d gladly follow. Katie wrapped her arms around Matt’s waist, allowing herself to enjoy how easily she fit into him, how sensual it felt to mold her body to his. Her mother’s voice echoed in the recesses of her brain, reminding her that good girls didn’t fling themselves against men they barely knew. As a concession, Katie sat up a little straighter.

  The engine erupted with life, the bike lurched forward. She was thrown against Matt, her chest pressed to the hard planes of his back, her thighs plastered along the length of his. Against the will of her more sensible parts, she melded to him.

  And, my, did it feel good.

  They roared down the street, moving as one with the bike, hugging the corners, slipping along the black river of road. Air rushed past Katie’s face, fast and furious, as if she were caught in a summer storm.

  It was terrifying. It was unnerving. It was also the most exhilarating thing she could ever remember doing, more exciting than the time she’d ridden the roller coaster at Ceda
r Point and had, for one split second, let go of the bar when the coaster began its wild descent from the peak.

  This time, she had Matt to hold on to. Doing so helped her ignore the little voice of doubt inside her that told her she was just pretending, that she hadn’t made any real changes in her life or herself yet. That the really scary stuff was yet to come.

  Katie watched the road over his shoulder and inhaled the woodsy male scent of his cologne mingling with the wind as if he were part of the landscape that rushed past them in a blur of emerald and russet. Her hands splayed across his front, and under her fingertips, she could feel the rock-hardness of his chest.

  She closed her eyes. Her thoughts veered into territory she’d never explored before. In her mind, she saw her own hands tugging up his T-shirt, roving over the ridges of muscles on his torso, dipping down to meet the waistband of his jeans, then roaming over his—

  “You okay back there?”

  She gulped in a breath. And promptly swallowed a bug. “Yeah, j-just f-fine,” she stammered, trying not to gag or spit into Matt’s hair. She prayed the insect that had just slid down her throat hadn’t been a bee.

  “Am I going too fast?”

  It’s my mind that’s breaking the speed limit. “I’m fine.”

  “You sure? Do you want to stop or slow down?”

  No. Yes. “No, I’m okay.”

  “We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “Where is there?”

  “You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”

  Katie tried to guess where he was taking her rather than think about the bug digesting in her stomach. They’d already passed the Corner Pocket and A Pair of Posies and were headed into the farm territory on the outskirts of town.

  He slipped into a quiet, almost brooding silence the rest of the way. She considered broaching the subject of Olivia again but stopped herself. His reluctance to speak of Olivia had been as clear as a No Trespassing sign. He didn’t want to talk about his past and she wouldn’t force him. Not to mention, riding on a noisy motorcycle didn’t exactly make conversation easy.

  Matt turned onto a dirt road. He let out a sigh and the tension in his shoulders and back dissolved, as if whatever lay at the end of this road had been the antidote he needed for his mood.

  There were no streetlights in this remote area and the early-morning half-darkness gathered in around them like a blanket. The wheels of the bike kicked up a cloud of dust, coating the windshield and blurring her vision. Matt slowed the bike, turned off the road and onto a grassy field.

  Jane bumped and bucked over the rough landscape. “Having fun yet?” Matt turned and grinned at her.

  “Do you take every woman you…you meet out to the middle of nowhere?”

  “No, just you.”

  She refused to think about whether he was pretending to like her, whether he was still playing the charade, or how it would feel later when she went home. Instead, she studied his profile, illuminated by the spill of breaking sunlight overhead and forgot about the jostling motorcycle.

  Matt was intent on driving, his gaze fixed on the wide grassy tract ahead. He had a lean, chiseled face, full of strength and dependability. His jaw was set, firm.

  Her gaze traveled down to his soft blue chambray shirt. The cuffs were rolled up, exposing defined wrists and wide, capable hands. His legs were clad in jeans that were well broken in, fitting him snugly and comfortably. She wondered what it would feel like to be those jeans, to skim over Matt’s bare legs with the ease of familiarity.

  “Here we are.”

  They were stopped in the middle of a huge field, backed by a cozy copse of trees. A few feet away stood a large barn that hadn’t aged gracefully. Boards hung off it in various places, providing entry for the birds that flitted in and out. What had once been red paint on the exterior had faded to a rusty gray. She looked around for a farmhouse but saw only a half built foundation a hundred yards away, the two-by-fours sticking out of the cement base like a carpenter’s version of Stonehenge.

  “What is this place?”

  “It used to be the Emery farm. Thirty years ago, there was a fire at the main house and it burned to the ground. Old Man Emery died in that fire, trying to save his house.” Matt helped her off the bike, set it on its kickstand, then led her toward the barn. “The place was abandoned afterward. None of the Emery heirs wanted the farm, so it was on the market for a long time.”

  “I wonder why. It’s a nice piece of land.” She imagined the tall stalks of corn that must have grown here years ago, their silky tops bobbing in the breeze. She pictured cows grazing in the pasture to her left, kept in by the split-rail fence that had decayed and separated over the years.

  “Some people think it’s haunted since the owner died here.” He creaked open the barn door and led her inside. He took a packet of matches out of his shirt pocket, struck one and bent to light a kerosene lantern sitting on a little table. “I just think it was an awful tragedy.”

  Light filled the room, warming the shadows and softening the gloom. Katie had expected the interior to be just as rundown and decrepit as the outside. But it wasn’t. Someone had taken the time to sweep out the cobwebs, repair the floorboards and whisk out any rubble or hay that might have remained over the years.

  In the center of the barn stood a small oval table, topped with a white tablecloth. There were two place settings of china, centered by a spray of yellow daisies in a vase. A pair of crystal goblets sat beside an ice bucket chilling a carafe of orange juice.

  “When did you do all this?”

  He came and stood before her, unhooking her helmet with nimble fingers that brushed the underside of her chin. “Before I picked you up this morning.”

  “You went to an awful lot of trouble.”

  “This place has always been kind of special to me. I wanted you to see it in the best possible light.” He grinned. “I figured it would take the sting out of the work we’ll be doing later.”

  He’d risen before the crack of dawn, hiked down here with silverware and glasses and set the whole thing up—complete with flowers—just for her. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  She wandered the room, stepping carefully on the old floorboards. “Why this one? Indiana has lots of old farmhouses.”

  “When I was younger, I used to come here when I wanted to get away from the house filled with antiques and crystal and things I couldn’t touch.” He drew her to the table, pulled out her chair and waited for her to sit. “I’d ride my bike out here and spend hours in this barn, pretending I was a farmer and this was my home.”

  “Is that what you wanted to be? A farmer?”

  He chuckled. “When I was ten, farming looked mighty attractive. When I got older and realized how much work and money went into running a farm, I changed my mind. I’m happy doing construction work instead.” He looked around the room and Katie saw a softening in his features, a vulnerability that slipped in when he wasn’t guarding his emotions. “But I still loved the property. Something about the tragedy of it…” he paused, cleared his throat, went on, “When it went up for auction twelve years ago, I scraped together every penny I had and bought it. With my own money, not my father’s.”

  From the way he said it, she knew that paying his own way was important to him. Once again, the Matt Webster of rumor and the real Matt were complete opposites.

  Katie had already learned some hard lessons about image and reality. And how damaging that mirage could be to reality. The image of a happily engaged couple, so fragile another woman could easily steal the dream. The image of a successful businesswoman, hanging on to her store by a thread. The image of a woman who had moved on, yet was still desperately lonely because she was too scared to open up her heart and trust again. To fail again.

  Katie pivoted in her seat, taking in the full view of the barn. “You own this property?”

  “What’s left of it.”

  “But why…? I mean, how come…?”

/>   “Why does it look like this?” His hands gripped the back of his chair. “I started working on it when I bought it. Had great plans for the place. A two-story house over there,” he pointed in the direction of the foundation, “a few animals here. Even a man-made pond out back.”

  “What happened?”

  Matt swallowed hard. Katie’s questions were opening doors he’d shut long ago. Doors that needed to be open, if he was ever going to get past that chapter in his life. What he needed to do, and what he was ready to do, however, were very different things.

  “In one night, I lost everything that mattered to me.” The words came out so softly Matt barely heard them himself. “And I no longer gave a damn about the house, or anything.”

  “Because you’d lost your baby?”

  Katie couldn’t have known how those words would affect him. He felt the familiar searing pain in his heart and had to take a deep breath before he could answer her. “Yes.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, and he could hear the sympathy in her words. “It must have been awful for you.”

  “It was the worst thing that ever happened to me.” His voice was hoarse. “I wasn’t very good at dealing with it.” That was an understatement.

  “So you left town?”

  “It seemed the best thing to do.”

  “But now you’re back.” She made a sweeping gesture of the room, as if sensing his need for a change of subject. “You have a great piece of land here. Are you finishing the house?”

  He nodded. “Part of the reason I’m back is to finish what I started. This house is the first thing on my list.”

  “What’s next?”

  “That’s as far as I’ve thought it out,” he said. He wouldn’t think about a wife or children. For now, for him, this was enough. He didn’t have it in him to go through that kind of loss a second time. To have held hope in his arms and then to have it ripped away because of one stupid, foolish mistake.

  A bird fluttered through the room, darting across their table before settling into a roost in the rafters. Katie didn’t waver, didn’t flinch. She watched him, her gaze open, trusting.