by Maddie James
A small dribbling of information about his new business venture might actually be a good thing.
Funny, each time he thought about that, the guilt ate at him a little more.
“Sounds like a good idea to me,” he replied. Then he turned to Gracie and looked her square in the eyes. “What do you think?”
She swallowed and stared back at him with wide eyes. “I...well, of course...I think it’s great idea. As president of the Chamber, I think all businesses should belong. Amie and I are both active members.”
Her words much too stiff, forced and contrived for his liking. Why couldn’t he figure this woman out?
She motioned across the table then. “You do know Amie, don’t you? She owns the coffee shop. Amie Clarke, Carson Price.”
Carson reached to his right and took Amie’s hand. “I don’t think we’ve officially met, but I’ve seen you here.”
Amie gave him a firm handshake and a broad smile. “Yes, I’ve seen you, too. Nice to meet you, Carson. And welcome to Franklinville. I’m sure you’ll like it. We’re small town, middle America, at it’s best. Home of nosey neighbors, troublesome busybodies, and matchmakers. Make yourself at home.”
It was all Carson could do not to spit his last sip of coffee straight across the table. And it would have been an understatement to say that he was totally taken off guard when Gracie, did.
Chapter Six
Izzie arrived with a flourish, a cackle, and a small, yappy puppy early on a Sunday morning. Or at least, that’s when she made her presence known. The child could have arrived the night before for all Gracie knew. Yawning, she pulled the covers back over her head. This was her morning to sleep in, to unwind, to read the paper in bed and allow her brain unravel.
Sunday was her day to spoil herself.
Sometimes, she’d light candles and burn incense and drink a glass of Merlot while she soaked the afternoon away in her antique clawfoot tub.
Other days, she’d indulge herself in sappy movies and chocolate ice cream while staying in her jammies all day long.
Once in a while she’d engross herself in some long-forgotten artsy-crafty project just to get her mind off the shop.
Today, she just wanted to sleep in. That was the only thing on her agenda. Amie had treated her to margaritas and fajitas at her house the night before and Gracie felt slightly hung-over this morning. A rare occurrence, but nonetheless, very real.
This particular Sunday morning, however, didn’t appear to be one destined for a pampering ritual.
Small, running footsteps, up and down the back stairs, echoing inside her head with every thump...thump...thump, came first. Those were followed closely by shrieks and shouts. Then a giggle or two. Mixed throughout were yips and yaps and sometimes even a feisty little puppy growl.
The dog’s name was Bandit, she’d also learned. Izzie had screamed the pup’s name every time it yipped and growled.
Gracie searched her fuzzy little brain. Had she put anything in the lease about pets?
Damn. She couldn’t remember.
She pulled her covers up tighter over her ears. She’d managed for two weeks to avoid Carson and she really didn’t want to approach him first thing this morning. Certainly, she could just ignore the child and the dog, stuff some imaginary cotton in her ears and go back to sleep—
“Bandit, no!”
“Yip! Yip!”
“Eeeek!”
Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.
“Izzie! Quiet that pup down!”
That last shout was from Carson.
How quickly the two weeks had passed. It seemed only yesterday she had embarrassed herself to no end when Amie made that crack about busybodies and matchmakers. Along with the covers, Gracie pulled her pillow over her head and grimaced, still embarrassed at the thought of her spitting tea across the table all over Carson.
How stupidly embarrassing.
She’d not faced the man since.
And no matter what, she didn’t plan on facing him this morning.
Ahhh...silence. Blessed silence.
Gracie inhaled deeply, then let out a relaxed sigh. Carson must have commandeered the child and the pup to another location.
“Thank you,” she whispered, as she felt herself drifting again.
Then she heard: Eeeeeeeeeek! Yip! Yip! Yip! Me-OWWWWW! And a loud tumbling and rumbling which echoed down the stairwell mingled with a small whine, a puppy whimper, a final shriek, and a sob.
Silence.
“Izzie!”
That was Carson.
More silence. Then heavy footsteps.
Gracie sat straight up in bed. Izzie had fallen down the stairs! The dog! The cat?
Like a gazelle, she leapt from her bed and took off toward the door with no regard to the fact that she didn’t want to see Carson or that she probably looked like hell or that she was wearing nothing more than an oversized t-shirt and black, bikini panties.
Jerking open the door leading directly to the stairway landing, Gracie bolted smack into Carson. She shrieked and each of them scrambled and side-tracked the other and made apologies and some sort of incoherent babble, then raced to the bottom of the stairs.
“Izzie! Oh my God!”
Gracie wasn’t sure if those were her words or Carson’s.
They lay in a pile at the foot of the steps, the pup and the girl. The pup was whining. The cat was no where to be found. The girl was softly sobbing—big, fat tears sliding down her face as she looked up at the two adults barreling down the stairs toward her. Izzie held the tiny Bandit in her hands.
“I smashed her!” she sobbed loudly. A look of horror lanced across her face.
“Let me see,” Carson softly told her, reaching for the pup. He did a quick inspection, Bandit nipped at his finger, and he proclaimed her okay.
Gracie breathed a small sigh knowing that if Izzie was more worried about the pup than herself, she was probably okay. Carson gathered both child and dog into his arms and pulled them closer. She noticed he was doing a quick inspection of his daughter as well, running his hands over her arms and legs, checking for injuries.
“Izzie,” he breathed, “you scared the heck out of me.”
Gracie realized her own heart was beating mighty quickly as she watched Carson sit on the bottom step and cradle his daughter and her puppy closer. She placed a hand over her heart and willed it to stop beating so wildly. Carson’s eyes closed as he stroked her head and placed a light kiss on top her head; his strong arms wrapped securely about her.
Finally, her heart slowed a bit.
“Are you okay, Munchkin?” Carson whispered to Izzie.
She sniffed and nodded. “B-Bandit—”
Carson cradled the tiny pup in his hand. The pup nuzzled under his chin. “She’s fine.”
Izzie sobbed again. “I didn’t mean to fall on her.”
“I know, honey.”
“My...my feet got tangled...around her...and the kitty...and I tripped and...” she said between sniffs.
“She’s okay, Munchkin,” Carson assured her.
Izzie looked up at her father. “You’re sure?”
As if on cue, Bandit barked.
Carson nodded. “See, she’s fine.”
“What about the kitty?”
“I’m sure she’s fine, too.” Carson glanced around. Still no kitty. Gracie figured Claire had skidaddled at the first inkling of disaster. She wasn’t worried. Claire was a cat who could take care of herself.
Izzie took the pup away from him. “Bad puppy,” she told the dog. “You have to stay out from under my feet.”
Carson grasped Izzie’s chin and turned her face so she would look at him. “Iz, I told you not to run on the stairs. You...and the pup...could have been hurt very badly.”
Izzie cradled the puppy closer. “I know. Sorry.”
Gracie heard Carson sigh and sensed his relief. After a moment, he glanced up. At that precise second Gracie realized she wasn’t an unobserved bystander to the situation any
longer. It probably had something to do with the way Carson’s eyes grew larger as his gaze traveled slowly from her painted toenails up to her face.
She glanced down.
Oh, no....
Her heart started that wild beat again.
* * * *
There was a moment, which seemed eons ago now, that Carson had registered running into Gracie out in the hallway. Briefly, he recalled their bodies bumping together and them exchanging a couple of excited words as they raced down the stairway toward Izzie. After that, he’d lost track of her.
But she was a damned hard sight to lose track of at this particular moment in time.
His mouth went suddenly dry and he swallowed. Hard. He knew Grace was tall, but as she stood before him, she seemed nothing but legs. Long, shapely legs. Dancer’s legs, he’d heard them called. And the big t-shirt she wore, which hit her about mid-thigh, really wasn’t doing its job of effectively covering them.
But he guessed it wasn’t meant to do that. Obviously, Gracie had just been roused from her bed. He’d come to that conclusion as his gazed traveled upward over her body. The shirt she wore was obviously a nightshirt. Her rich brunette tresses lay long and loose around her shoulders, unbrushed and untamed. She wore no make-up, her face fresh and dewy, her eyes a little swollen from sleep.
From out of the blue he thought of Marci and how he’d loved the way she looked first thing in the morning, before she’d taken her shower and made herself up for the day. That was when he’d loved making love to her most.
But that was over three years ago. And making love with Marci was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. In fact, the woman standing before him with the startled, doe-eyed look on her face was doing more things to his body than any other woman had in quite some time.
He decided to stand, lifting Izzie off his lap. “Munchkin, why don’t you take Bandit upstairs. I’ll be along in a minute.” He said the words to his daughter, realizing he’d not yet taken his eyes off Gracie.
For once Izzie minded him without protest and scooted up the stairs. He sent up a silent prayer.
“Uh....” Gracie started.
“About the pup,” Carson began.
“It’s okay. She can have her,” Gracie intercepted.
“Well, there wasn’t anything in the lease about pets. I wasn’t sure. Was going to ask you today. We got in late last night.”
Gracie took one step up the stairway. She pulled at her shirt, as if she were trying to make it longer, then crossed her arms over her chest. Didn’t she realize that made it shorter?
“It’s okay. As long as she’s careful on the stairs. I think my heart is still in my throat.” She smiled hesitantly, then took another step up and stopped. “Well...I should be getting back upstairs...to my apartment.”
She started to move up another step, clutched at her t-shirt again, then cautiously turned back to look at him. “Um, would you mind going first?”
Carson then realized the reason for her wavering; of her not wanting to precede him up the stairway. From the lower position, he would have had a very nice few of her backside. And she knew it.
“Oh! Of course.” Idiot! Carson mentally slapped himself on the forehead and moved upward, carefully moving past her. Not stopping, he ascended all the stairs until he reached the landing and the door to his apartment a few steps beyond. He laid a hand on his doorknob then risked a glance backward.
Gracie stood not six feet away, her hand on her doorknob as well, her head turning back to glance at him at the same time. Then at once, they both twisted their separate doorknobs and pushed their respective doors to the inside.
“Oh!”
“One more thing.”
They spoke simultaneously.
Carson grinned. Gracie giggled.
“You first,” she said.
“No, you,” he returned.
Gracie bit her lip. Carson thought it was a cute gesture and not one he expected from Grace Hart, the businesswoman. Yet, Grace Hart the businesswoman was not standing before him at the moment. The woman standing before him was someone else...was simply, Gracie.
“Was just going to say,” she began, “well...was just going to apologize again to you for that tea-spitting thing the other day.”
Carson gestured with his hand, reminded of the last time he’d seen her. “No problem. I understand. Anyone could get choked on a bagel.”
She smiled again. Lord save him. He liked that smile.
“You were going to say?” she asked then.
Nodding, Carson continued, “Was just going to apologize for the pup. I should have asked first.”
This time Gracie gestured with her hand. “Not a problem. With the pup, I mean.” She turned to head into her apartment, then stopped and faced him once again. “Just don’t make a habit of not asking, Mr. Price.”
For a moment, he thought she was dead serious. Then he saw that smile return to her face and knew that she was teasing.
* * * *
With her back to her closed door, Gracie clamped her hands over her eyes and groaned. “Now what in the world did I go and do that for?” she quietly chided herself.
Stepping away, she headed toward her bedroom and the sanctuary of her comfy bed. “My God Gracie, you were flirting with him! Half-dressed, no less! Have you gone mad?”
Falling into her bed, she jerked the covers up to her neck, closed her eyes, and tried to erase the image of Carson standing before her at his apartment door. She tried not to think about the fact that the man had signed a years lease and that he would be coming and going out of that door for months to come.
Oh my. What in the world would she do?
Opening her eyes wide again, she stared across the bedroom, letting her brain quietly mull the situation.
Nothing. She would do nothing.
After all, there was nothing to do. She would just go about her daily routine, living her life, just as she had done for ten years now.
But the ticking started in her brain again and this time it appeared to be piercing her heart with every tick, tick, tick, it drummed up.
“One of these days, Gracie Hart,” she whispered to herself, “you’re going to have to come face-to-face with your fears, you know that?”
And she knew exactly what her fears were. Facing them was just the thing she had to learn to do. For some reason, she knew that day was coming closer. It had been ten years since she’d lost everything. Ten years since the accident which took from her everything she’d ever loved—her fiancé and her dancing career.
Ten long, and sometimes lonely, years.
She never thought she’d end up like this: thirty-five, single, and childless—but this was her life. And now, there’s an interesting man next door who makes her heart flutter, one who might even be a very nice candidate for someone to love.
She just didn’t know if she could ever get over this fear about falling in love. Actually, it wasn’t the falling in love part that scared her so much—it was the losing of that love that scared the hell out of her.
* * * *
Later that evening, Carson glanced about the inside of Geekmeister’s, not believing that the time had almost come. The place had truly been transformed. Three weeks of hard work and late nights and his café was nearly up and running. He’d been thinking how he would handle his grand opening, debating on whether to throw one hopping shindig of a kick-ass party, or just quietly open his doors one evening and see what happened. Maybe he’d host a small party with some of his Louisville friends on Friday night, a little live music, food and drink, and just take it from there.
Since that was the direction he seemed to be leaning, Carson figured he probably needed to get himself in gear and start inviting people. Goodness knows his friends loved their weekends and a good party to boot. Well, they had best make time for him on this particular Friday night.
It was high time Main Street Franklinville started hopping. He chuckled at the thought.
Ste
pping closer to the front of the café, he stared out the window to the dark, empty street lit with the red glow of the traffic light and a smattering of street lights. Quiet, quaint little town. He liked it, but it was a far cry from downtown Louisville where he’d lived since college.
He almost felt a little guilty thinking about how he was going to break this calm next weekend. Of course, today was Sunday evening and the town was cozily tucked in for the night, preparing for the next work week. Friday and Saturday evenings were usually a little more lively, anyway.
It had crossed his mind whether he should extend an invitation to Gracie. Maybe, just maybe, he should. On one hand, there was no use borrowing trouble. On the other, he wouldn’t be able to hide it from her forever.
With thoughts of Gracie in his head, he twisted the doorknob and stepped outside to the street. The nights were still cool and crisp and he inhaled deeply of the fresh air. This, was an advantage. Although Louisville wasn’t a smoggy town, the air just seemed cleaner here. He stood for a moment taking in the quiet, then leaned again the bricked front of his building. About the same time, a light went on next door in Gracie’s shop, throwing a muted rectangular glow toward the street.
Images of her this morning popped into his brain. That same image had troubled him all day long. He couldn’t deny that right from the start, he’d thought Ms. Grace Hart an attractive woman. Geekmeister’s had kept him so busy though, that he’d only allowed himself to entertain those thoughts briefly over the past three weeks.
But since seeing her this morning, with her hair soft around her shoulders and wearing nothing more than that big, sexy t-shirt—well, he was having difficulty extracting thoughts of her from his mind.
And that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
