Hometown Hope: A Small Town Romance Anthology

by Zoe York

  “Starved,” I admitted, and I was. I hadn’t been able to eat lunch. I was too excited about the date, and wanted to make sure everything was done and Claire was fully briefed, so while I was out with Jackson, I could focus totally on us.

  “Well, luckily, we only have to cross the street,” Jackson said, gesturing jauntily toward Prime Beef, making me laugh at his silliness. He released my hand and crooked his elbow so I could tuck my arm though his. “Shall we?”

  “Let’s,” I said with an exaggerated nod and a laugh.

  We marched across the street, laughing the whole way. When we reached the entrance, Jackson paused and put a finger to his lips, then straightened up to full height and made a show of becoming serious.

  One more laugh escaped me, but he shook his head with mock sternness. I nodded and did my best to put on a straight face as well.

  I looked him over as I pulled myself together, and was struck by how handsome he was wearing dark slacks, a maroon button-down shirt, and a tie with small busts of Shakespeare decorating it. His hair was styled, but he had a small cowlick sticking out at the back, which only made him look more attractive somehow.

  “Everything okay?” Jackson asked when he realized I was no longer playing along, but rather standing in front of the restaurant staring at him.

  I felt my blush rise as I answered, “You look very handsome.”

  Jackson’s eyes lit with pleasure, and he gave a half smile as he bent dramatically at the waist. When he straightened, he said, “And you, Millie, look gorgeous, although, you always look gorgeous. I’m sorry, I didn’t say that right away. I was just so nervous, I forgot myself and started acting like a dork to cover my nerves.”

  I took a step closer to him, put my hand on his cheek, and assured him, “You’re not a dork. I love your ability to have fun, be silly, wear a Shakespeare tie. I want you to feel comfortable with me and always be yourself. And, I’ll let you in on a little secret … I was nervous too, and you calmed my nerves.”

  Jackson lowered his head, and my breath caught as I waited for his lips to touch mine. When they did, they did so only briefly, but oh, so sweetly. They brushed across mine once, then twice, before he pulled back slowly and smiled down at me.

  “Ready?” he asked again, and I nodded somewhat dreamily, causing his smile to widen.

  We shifted and he pulled open the door, then held it for me as we went inside.

  Prime Beef was a classic steakhouse, with lots of rich wood, low lighting, and the beautiful sound of a saxophone playing throughout the room.

  I hadn’t eaten there before, since we never really had time, plus, anytime I’d seen the owner, he was scowling, so I’d never really had the urge to be a patron in his establishment. I had to admit though, if the food was anything like the décor, our experience was going to be fabulous.

  I was beyond surprised to see the owner of Prime Beef, and the scowly face, walking toward us with a large grin, his hands outstretched.

  “I thought I was going to have to call the fire department to turn the hose on you, Jacks,” the tall, striking man said as he approached.

  “Shut it,” Jackson replied, taking his offered hand, then pulling him in for one of those man half-hug clap on the back things. “How’ve you been?”

  “Pretty good, ready for football to start back up; you?”

  “Great. School is good and Kayla is awesome,” he replied, then he put his arm around my shoulder and said proudly, “And, this is Millie. Millie, this is Jericho, the owner of Prime Beef and my fantasy football nemesis.”

  “It’s lovely to meet you, your restaurant is gorgeous,” I gushed, holding out my hand.

  Jericho turned to me, took me in, then his welcoming smile dropped. I guessed he wasn’t a total jerk, because he did take my offered hand briefly, rather than leaving me hanging, but when he muttered, “One of the three sisters,” and continued to look like he’d taken a bite of something rotten, I wondered what we’d done to earn that look.

  Jackson

  I don’t know why Jericho’s demeanor changed when he realized who Millie was, but I didn’t like it one bit.

  “Hey, brother, I’m not sure what just happened, but your tone, and your face, are kinda pissing me off,” I warned, low enough so his employees couldn’t hear me, but so that he definitely could.

  Jericho’s eyes shot to mine and he grimaced, then said sheepishly, “Sorry, man.” Then, he turned his attention back to Millie took her hand back in his. “I apologize, Millie, it’s very nice to meet you. Jackson is one of my great friends and I trust his judgement. I’m sorry for being rude.”

  Millie looked at him uncertainly, then asked softly, “You don’t even know me, so why…?”

  Jericho looked over our heads, toward Three Sisters Catering.

  “I know your sister, and let’s just say, when things ended, they didn’t end well. But, that has nothing with you, and I’m sorry for acting like an ass all this time. I’m happy to have you and Jackson and would love to take care of your dinner tonight.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I replied, because, seriously, my first dinner date with Millie wasn’t going to be on the house. I didn’t use my friends that way, and I didn’t want her to think I did. Plus, there was something about paying for her meal that made me feel good, like I was taking care of her … If that made me old-fashioned, so be it.

  “My sister?” Millie asked, still stuck on Jericho’s explanation.

  “She should tell it,” Jericho said with a wave of his hand, and I knew he was done talking about it. He turned and held his hand out toward the dining room. “I have your table ready, if you’ll follow me.”

  I shot a smile at the hostess as we passed, taking Millie’s hand as we followed Jericho through the dining room, to a rounded booth in the back corner. I’d called ahead and told Jericho I was bringing a date. Since he was my friend, and happy that I was finally moving on from Julie, Jericho promised a romantic evening.

  I let Millie’s hand go so that we could both slide in, meeting each other in the middle on the other side. I smiled, liking that she chose to sit next to me, rather than across, although the brush of her thigh against mine might make focusing on my meal difficult.

  “Ky will be your server tonight, but don’t hesitate to call if you need anything,” Jericho told us, then gave us a slight nod before walking off toward the kitchen.

  “That was weird,” Millie muttered as she watched Jericho push through the swinging door.

  “Yeah, I’ve never seen him act like that; he’s usually really easy going. Do you know what it’s about?”

  Millie shook her head, then turned it toward me.

  “No, I mean, I thought maybe he didn’t like us moving in and being competition, even though we really aren’t, or that he was just a grumpy guy.”

  “He’s not.”

  “Strange … And, now, I’m dying to know if he was talking about Tasha or Dru, and why whoever it is never said anything.” Millie shook her head again, then smiled sweetly up at me. “Enough about them, that’s a puzzle to figure out later. How was the rest of your week?”

  “Great, the kids are diving in to Pride and Prejudice, which always brings about the best discussions.”

  “Oh, I love Pride and Prejudice,” she gushed, her face taking on that dreamy quality that always came up when women thought of Darcy. “And, Kayla, how’s she doing?”

  “It’s nice of you to ask,” I said, wondering if I should tell her about Kayla’s behavior earlier, or allow us the opportunity to get to know each other better, before weighing her down with my parenting woes. I decided on the latter and simply said, “She always loves spending time with her grandparents.”

  “Good,” she said as she picked up the menu and opened it. “So, I’ve never been here, but I’ve heard great things. Is there anything you’d recommend?”

  “Well, they make a mean martini, you can’t go wrong with the steaks, and the dessert…” I put my fingertips up
to my lips and kissed them. “Magnifique.”

  I noticed her cheeks get red, and couldn’t help but be charmed when I learned why.

  “Actually, I thought I’d have you back to my place for dessert. I made a Lemon Crème Brule that I think you’ll enjoy.”

  My heart hammered in my chest at the thought of going back to her place, first with excitement, then with nerves.

  Is she expecting more than dessert after dinner? Are we ready for that? Am I?

  Not only had I never kissed anyone other than Julie, I’d never been with anyone other than her, and it had been well over a year since we’d had sex … since I’d had sex. I was a little rusty, and had never felt more inexperienced than I did in that moment just thinking about being alone with Millie in her apartment.

  It’s only the first date, I assured myself. There was no way Millie was thinking about taking things that far.

  But when I looked at her pretty pink cheeks, and the way her lips were slightly parted as she watched my reaction play over my face, I wondered if I was not only being old-fashioned, but naïve.

  “It’s just dessert,” Millie assured me softly, placing her soft, warm hand on my thigh in what she meant to be a reassuring gesture, but made me jump in me seat. She pulled her hand away quickly, as if she’d been burned and muttered, “Sorry.”

  I immediately felt guilty and reached for her hand, putting it back on my leg.

  “No, I’m sorry, I’m overreacting and all you’re doing is being sweet. I got nervous,” I admitted, squeezing her hand slightly in mine. “I freaked out at the thought of what you might be expecting at the end of this date, which is unfair to you. As I’ve said, I’m out of practice with all of this stuff, and it’s making me a bit of the mess.”

  “Hey,” she said, leaning in to bump my arm with her shoulder. “I just thought it would be nice to have some dessert, with wine … or coffee, at my place so that we could have some privacy and get to know each other better. That’s it.” Her face lit up as she smiled a bit wickedly, then added, “I won’t jump your bones, promise.”

  I chuckled, embarrassed, and had no control over my body’s reaction to Millie’s words. As my body tightened and a yearning filled me, I wondered whether I actually wanted to her keep that promise, or not.

  Millie

  “Does it feel like you never get a break, working and living in the same building?” Jackson asked as we walked across the street.

  Dinner had been perfect. Delicious food, easy conversation, and no more weird run-ins with Jericho. Now, we were on our way to my place for dessert and all of my earlier bravado had left me. I thought it was terribly sweet that Jackson was nervous about being alone in my apartment and what my expectations may be, and at first, I’d assured him easily that there was nothing to be nervous about.

  Then, over the course of dinner, my mind kept circling back to our conversation, and my nerves had grown. It wasn’t that I was worried that he was anticipating a certain ending, I knew he wasn’t, but my fear had grown from something else … Him. I liked him so much, and everything about him, about us, seemed to fit so perfectly, what if I somehow ruined it?

  Maybe I should cut the night off now, before I have the chance to screw things up. End on a happy note…

  But, as I looked from our swinging hands to Jackson’s open, friendly face, I knew I didn’t want to cut our time short. In fact, I wanted to lock him away in my apartment and never let him go.

  Okay, maybe that is too far, but still.

  “Um, no, not really,” I replied, finally answering his question. “It’s nice to be close to my sisters again, but still have my own space to disappear to when I need to be alone. Plus, it made our lives easier, starting out, to be so close to work.”

  “I bet,” Jackson conceded as I opened the door. “But, what about now? Now that your business is up and running? Do you think you’ll stay here?”

  “Yeah, sure, at least for now.” I locked up behind us, then led him up the stairs to the living areas. “I mean, that may change when one of us gets serious with someone, decides to start a family, or gets tired of apartment life. This isn’t where any of us plan to live forever, but it’s worked our perfectly so far.”

  We passed Dru’s door, then Tasha’s, before we came to mine, which was across from the empty apartment we used for storage.

  “This is it,” I said unnecessarily, my hands shaking slightly as I put the key in and turned. I opened the door, then stepped back and gestured for him to go inside.

  As Jackson walked in, I stepped in behind him and closed the door, then followed his gaze, seeing my apartment through his eyes.

  I’d made an effort to clean before I got dressed, so it looked tidy, if not sparkling. My gray sofa was made up with throw pillows and a blanket that I liked to snuggle under when watching TV. I had two mirrors over the couch as accent pieces, in an effort to make the small space seem bigger. My kitchen was small, but cute, with a shelf over the sink that held some of my favorite display cases, with my pans hanging on hooks underneath.

  I’d mostly decorated in pinks, grays, and white, and liked my décor on the feminine side. I thought it suited me, and I loved coming home to it every night.

  “Uh…” Jackson began, and I tore my gaze from my throw pillows to see him standing in front of the built-ins that surrounded my TV. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  I flushed slightly, but kept my tone free of embarrassment when I said sternly, “No, why? Don’t you like The King of Rock ‘n Roll?”

  Jackson shifted toward me, eyes mockingly wide, then turned back and flung his arm out at my Elvis collection.

  “I like Elvis as much as the next guy, but I’m guessing you’re not the next guy. There seems to be a bit of an obsession going on here.”

  My built-ins displayed my most prized possessions. Elvis plates, dolls, pez dispensers, metal wall hangings, video tapes, DVDs, original magazines, posters, and the crowning jewel, a guitar with case.

  “I’ve loved Elvis ever since I saw Blue Hawaii with my mom as a little girl. I’ve seen all of his movies, numerous times, his concerts … on video, of course, and have all of his records. It’s become a running joke in my family. Every birthday, Christmas, shoot, any holiday, everyone gets me Elvis-themed gifts. These,” I said, holding my hand out to my built-ins, “are just some of my favorite pieces. I have boxes and boxes full of stuff.”

  Not to mention the poodle skirt in my drawer and the Elvis canvas shoes in my closet…

  “So, any guy that gets serious with you, has to be prepared to accept Elvis into their lives?” Jackson joked, stepping close and putting his arms around me.

  I tilted my head back as he pulled me close, the smile playing on his lips doing funny things to my insides.

  “That is correct,” I replied, then snuggled in even closer and whispered against his lips, “And maybe wear a Hawaiian shirt and tight board shorts once in a while.”

  “I think I can handle that,” he murmured, then lowered his mouth to mine.

  I sighed into the kiss, happy to be in Jackson’s arms again. It was like we had all the time in the world; there was no fervor or impatience to this kiss, only time, attention, and plenty of thoroughness.

  By the time Jackson broke the kiss and straightened, I was practically boneless in his arms, ready to say and do anything he wanted. Of course, after our discussion at dinner, I knew he wanted to take things slow; my body, however, was warring with my mind after that kiss.

  Maybe if I offer to give him a tour of my bedroom, he’ll take the hint, I thought. Instead, I tiptoed up to brush my lips against his one more time, before asking, “Would you like wine or coffee with your Crème Brule?”

  “Wine,” Jackson replied, his eyes just a bit mischievous, which I hoped would lead to at least some making out on my couch later.

  Jackson

  It may not be manly to admit, although I've never been afraid of my softer side, but after my evening with Millie, I
was floating on a cloud.

  The date had gone better than I imagined. Aside from Jericho's bizarre behavior, the evening had been perfect.

  I loved getting to know Millie better. Her close relationship with her sisters, her random Elvis obsession, and the way her lips met mine eagerly after a delicious helping of Lemon Crème Brule and a glass of wine, all only further fueled my desire to spend time with her.

  I was in danger of acting like my students. Utterly lovesick and impossible to be around. And, I loved it.

  After a night of deep, soundless sleep, I awoke feeling refreshed and excited, already counting the minutes until I'd get to see Millie again. Only one black cloud overshadowed my happiness, the fact that today was the day I started the search for Julie.

  Would it take days, weeks, or God forbid months? I had no idea, all I knew was that it was time to sever the tie that held me to what had become a destructive force in my life.

  With Kayla safely tucked away with her grandparents, I spent my morning straightening up, then made my way out of town to the neighboring county, where the P.I. my buddy Rob had recommended set up business.

  I pulled up to the nondescript building just shy of noon, my appointment time, and took a deep breath before going inside.

  I was about to change the course of our lives forever, mine and Kayla’s. Or, at least, I was about to complete the changes that Julie had initiated when she walked out. It felt like a defining moment, while at the same time like realizing the inevitable.

  There was no jingle when the door opened, no secretary waiting to greet me and offer me coffee, and no charming, quaintly decorated office waiting to welcome new clients.

  No, Michael “Mick” O’Donnelly’s office looked more like a man cave than an office.

  With dark, rich leather sofas and a recliner facing a large, flat-screen TV, a mini fridge on the wall next to a fully stocked bar, and a dartboard in the corner, I almost turned around and went out to check the address on the building, sure I’d just walked into someone’s house, rather than an office.