Man of the Month (Willowdale Romance Novel)

by Scott, Lisa

  Brad stared at her with his brows scrunched together. “You’re right. What else do I make for you when I’m in trouble?”

  “Mojitos and bruschetta. Anything with basil. Now spill it. What’s going on?”

  He parked his butt on the stool across from her. Shook his head. “State budget cuts at the residential facility. They want to cancel the anniversary party. We’ve got their deposit money, but that’s it.”

  She set down the half-eaten tomato stack. “But we’ll lose our deposits on the table and chair rentals. We were counting on that party to bring in more business. What do we do?”

  He scratched his head, sighing. “We can scale it down, just do apps and dessert and hope it pulls in some new clients. We can write it off as a loss.” He shrugged. “We could pull double duty and have an open house the next day since we have all the rentals.”

  Jeanne pressed her hands against her eyes. “What does this do to our finances?”

  Brad didn’t say anything.

  “Brad?” Her stomach was free falling.

  “We’re in trouble, Jeanne. Things were tight before this. Tighter than I’d let on. I’ve ducked into what little savings I have left.”

  She’d never seen him look so scared. Her throat clenched. “And we would’ve been fine if I hadn’t ruined things with the O’Hara’s. Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

  He sighed and rubbed the back of his head. Never a good sign.

  “I didn’t want to worry you.”

  She ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t have any money left. Maybe we’re going to have to call it quits.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. They’d dreamed about this business for the past two years. She’d scrimped and scraped to save up her share then pushed for it when Brad got cold feet. She glanced at the Caprese salad but felt too sick to eat any more.

  He crossed his arms. “No. I’ll think of something. I can probably get the landlord to float the rent one more month, and I’ll figure something out. Do we go through with the anniversary party?”

  The look of pain in his eyes hit her square in the chest. They had to make this work. “Yeah, I think we have to.” She slid off her stool. “I’m going to crank out some more pies. Maybe I can increase some of our standing orders.”

  He snagged her hand as she got up from her chair. “I won’t let you down. I’ll figure something out.”

  “I trust you.” She smiled at him and knew he’d come up with a solution. This was Brad. He never let her down.

  “It’s probably horrible timing, but there is one more thing to talk about.”

  She plopped back into her chair. “What? A girl can only take so much in a day.”

  He grinned hard, probably because he knew she was a sucker for his dimples. “Okay, I figured you were going to get cold feet for Mr. April but, I promise you, this guy is perfect. His name is Walt Townsend.”

  “And you’re springing this on me without cranking out the mojitos?” She shook her head. “Lord help me. What makes him perfect?”

  “Because this time I had Dolly down at the station find a guy. And she spent weeks searching. He’s the son of a friend of her neighbors. She had all her friends check him out. Tommy did a criminal check because I figured that would be our next headache—a felon. But the guy’s clean. Cleaner than clean. He was voted Most Likely to Succeed in his high school and lived up to the rep. He sold his business and just moved to Whitesville to get away from the rat race in the city. And he has two cats and no kids, and he’s going to fall in love with you.”

  He planted his hands on his hips like he was the sheriff who’d just locked up the bad guy and restored peace to the streets.

  Jeanne pursed her lips, searching for an objection, but the guy sounded pretty darn good. And if Dolly had spent all that time looking and gave him the stamp of approval, she was obligated to at least check him out. She pointed a warning finger at Brad. “Fine, but one more date involving emergency personnel, and I’m officially done with your fool plan.”

  “Fair enough. If the date ends with sirens, we call the whole thing off.”

  They shook on it, and she finished off the Caprese salad.

  JEANNE WASN’T sure if Mr. April would show up, considering their date was on April Fool’s Day. Maybe he’d be wearing a clown suit, and it would be one big joke on her. But when the hostess led Jeanne to the bar where Mr. April was sitting, she wasn’t laughing.

  Not bad at all, she thought.

  He smiled and stood up as she walked over. “Jeanne, so good to meet you.” He was silent for a moment, then laughed. “I’m sorry, it’s just that Brad didn’t do a good enough job describing how beautiful you are.”

  Her eyelids fluttered, and her words caught in her throat. “Thanks.”

  The hostess led them to a quiet table in the back of the restaurant, and Walt picked out a bottle of wine for them to share.

  “Can you believe this is my first blind date ever?” he asked.

  She spread her napkin on her lap, grateful she’d worn that silky cream dress of hers—the cup enhancer that Kate loved on her. “Actually, I can believe it. I can’t imagine it’s too hard for someone like you to meet women. So why’d you agree to this one?”

  He shrugged. “I’m new in town. I’m getting older. It’s time to focus on what I really want—a family. Great wife, kids, the dogs. All of it.”

  Jeanne took a quick drink of her wine. Brad was right on the money with this one. Walt was tall, with dark hair, gray eyes, and a dazzling smile. And for some reason, she couldn’t keep her eyes off his fingers.

  He laid his hands flat on the table. “And how is it that you’re on a blind date? You certainly don’t seem the type.”

  She toyed with a piece of hair that had fallen from her twist. “I’m kind of in the same situation as you. I really want to find the right person and start a family, and it just hasn’t happened. So Brad tricked me into a New Year’s Resolution—Man of the Month.” She couldn’t believe she was admitting this.

  Walt cocked an eyebrow. “So, I’m Mr. April?”

  “Indeed you are.”

  He let out a sexy laugh then lowered his voice. “Do I want to know what happened to Mr. January, February and March?”

  Jeanne looked off for a moment. “Mr. January is probably still riding his bike around looking for a job, so he can actually pick up the tab next time.” She gave him a strained smile. “And hopefully Mr. February has recovered from the allergic reaction he had to the cat fur on my coat.”

  Walt’s eyes widened. “No, that did not happen.”

  “Yep, the date ended early so he could stop at the ER.”

  He grimaced. “Do I even want to know about Mr. March?”

  Jeanne smiled and closed her eyes. “He probably won’t talk to me again. I had to call 911 while babysitting his children. I thought we were going on our second date, but he parked me at home with his kids.” She opened her eyes and grinned at him, feeling positively flirty. “Lucky me.”

  Walt shook his head and tried to stifle his grin. “I give you big points for even showing up tonight.” He held up his glass. “To blind dates. May this be the last one for us both.”

  She let her eyes glance up at his and then raised her glass, too. The ripple of excitement in her belly wasn’t knocking her over, but it wasn’t going away, either.

  After chatting non-stop during dinner, they discovered they both loved thunderstorms and antique stores. And he liked basil, take that Brad Larsen. When their dessert arrived, a piano player started with some lovely music.

  After sharing tastes of their desserts—which she only ever did with Brad—Walt stood up and offered his hand. “Shall we?”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Yes.” She had not expected to feel this way.

  He led her to the dance floor in the middle of the restaurant and surprised her with a few good moves. He smoothly took the lead, and she liked that. Up close like they were, she could smell his musky cologne, and she breathed i
n deeply. It smelled like Brad’s cologne. Not that he wore it often, but when he did, it was something awfully similar to Walt’s.

  She closed her eyes and moved to the music with him, trying to push Brad out of her mind. He really had set her up with a great guy this time. She was ready to be swept off her feet. She really was. It was for the best.

  But something was keeping her feet—and her heart—stuck to the ground. The song ended, and Walt dipped her in her arms. She stumbled a bit, and he caught her and pulled her close enough for a kiss. But she stepped back.

  “Thank you, that was really nice.”

  He looked at her in a way no man had looked at her since … Oh, shoot. Since Brad had when they were a couple for that short time. Tears threatened to brim up in her eyes, so she dropped Walt’s hand and turned back to their table, pretending to push her hair off her face so she could dab away the tears.

  Here she was with Mr. Wonderful served up on a silver platter. And from the look on his face and in his gorgeous gray eyes, he was thinking the same of her. Yet she couldn’t stop thinking about Brad.

  Maybe you’re just scared because this one is so good.

  She toyed with the notion while Walt ordered them coffee. There was only one way to find out. She’d have to kiss him to see if there really was a spark between them. She looked up and caught him staring at her again. Ending the night with a kiss probably wasn’t going to be a problem. Sometimes a girl just knew it was going to happen, and it was going to happen. And maybe a kiss would chase Brad and his dimple and those blue eyes out of her mind once and for all.

  “So, what would you like to do now?” she asked, feeling a smile unfurl on her lips.

  If possible, the smile on his face was even bigger.

  They claimed they were going to catch a late movie, but only made it as far as his car. It was like she was back in high school, on a rare night when Aunt Betty let her go to a school dance, and Buddy Perkins was seeing how lucky he could get. But Walt was a much better kisser than Buddy.

  With his soft lips brushing across hers, and his fingers tracing her jawbone, Jeanne was thoroughly enjoying herself. She opened her mouth, inviting him to take more. She loved kissing him like this.

  She opened her eyes and let out a little gasp when she looked at Walt’s face instead of Brad’s. You were imagining Brad the entire time.

  “Dang it,” she said in a harsh whisper.

  Walt took one shoulder in his hand and squeezed. “What is it, Jeanne?”

  Should she lie? Should she try kissing him again? She shook her head and looked up at the ceiling of the car. “Walt, you are handsome and wonderful and funny, and you should be 100% perfect for me.”

  He sighed and leaned back from her. “But …”

  “But someone else already is. And that’s the person I want to be with. I’m so sorry. It just wouldn’t be fair to drag this on when I know how it would end.”

  He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I hope this man knows what he’s got,” he said. “It was nice meeting you, Jeanne. You’re raising the bar for any future blind dates.” He kissed her hand, and she smiled gratefully before slipping out of the car and dashing across the parking lot so she could sob over her steering wheel.

  When a good round of crying didn’t lighten her mood, she headed for home, stopping at the Blue Moon Bar before leaving Whitesville. If she went home any sooner, chances were good she’d head straight for Brad’s, and who knew what foolishness she’d try.

  She settled on the lone stool open at the busy bar and held up a finger to signal the bartender. “Just a diet soda please.”

  “You sure? A little dash of rum in there might turn that frown upside down.”

  She tried to laugh but couldn’t. “If you think this is bad, I’m pathetic when I’m drunk. But what the hell.”

  He nodded and laughed and slid a glass of rum-and-coke across the bar for her, dropping in a cherry. “Maybe that will help. I’m Chuck. Whatever you need, let me know.”

  She didn’t even try forcing a smile. “Thanks, Chuck. And don’t even bother asking, cause no, I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He nodded and gave her a smile and went off to help another customer.

  She nursed a few drinks, feeling guilty for staying put there for three hours, costing him customers. But Chuck kept her glass filled, switched her to plain diet soda when she started getting weepy, and helped shoo away the drunks who seemed to have the radar to find sad, lonely women taking up bar space.

  “A lot of guys taking the fool part of the holiday to heart tonight,” he said.

  She laughed. Not Walt. He’d been perfect. She shredded the damp napkin under her drink. If she couldn’t fall for someone like Walt, she was in big trouble. Would Brad always be a ghost haunting her heart? She plucked another cherry from the fruit tray and chewed on the stem, thinking.

  Maybe she’d have to give up the dream of children for Brad. Could she be happy without a family? She’d probably resent him for it. Her head was spinning just thinking of it all. She stood up from the stool and realized the alcohol probably had something to do with her spinning head, too. She would not be able to drive herself home, and no way was she calling Brad to come get her.

  “Shoot!” She plopped back into her seat.

  That caught Chuck’s attention, and he gave her a quizzical look. Some women would have found a whole lot of solace in a guy like Chuck. And Chuck, tall and lean, with that instant rapport that bartenders always seem to have, looked like he might be thinking the same thing. But the whole idea just made her want to cry.

  He must have seen it in her face. “Do you need help getting home?”

  “I live in Willowdale. It’s too far. I’ll just sleep in my car in the parking lot.” She slid off the barstool and tottered backward.

  He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “No, no. Can’t let you do that. There’s a motel half a mile down the road. I’ll drive you there, and you can pick up your car tomorrow. The walk back here might do your hangover good tomorrow morning.” He winked at her.

  She held herself up against the bar with one hand, feeling like it was New Year’s Eve all over again. “If I wasn’t in love with my best friend, I’d invite you to come with me.”

  Chuck signaled the other bartender, took off his bar apron and walked from behind the bar, wrapping one arm around her. “The way you were downing those cherries, I’d say it’s true love. I’d be a fool to get in the way of that.”

  “Yeah, and I can’t settle for less. So what am I supposed to do?”

  “Come on, let’s get you to bed. You can worry about it tomorrow.”

  She flopped onto the front seat of his car and vaguely remembered being tucked into bed when she woke up with the headache of the century the next day.

  Chapter 12

  IT WAS ELEVEN in the morning by the time she had showered, pulled herself together, walked to her car, and finally started driving home. She panicked when she saw Brad’s truck in her driveway. She pulled in next to him, and he hopped out of the driver’s seat.

  “Where were you?” He searched her eyes.

  Her hair was still damp from the shower, and she was wearing her wrinkled dress. Her brain wasn’t firing fast enough to come up with a slick excuse.

  A grin spread across his face. “J, you’re just getting in from your date.” He slapped his leg. “Hot damn, I was right on this one.”

  She glared at him. “No. Just shut up. It’s not what you think. What are you doing here, anyway, checking up on me?”

  His smile disappeared. “No. Come inside. We need to talk.”

  “Not about my date.”

  He pretended to zip his lip. “Not a word, I promise.”

  She let him in and dashed to her bedroom. “I’ve gotta change into something more comfortable. Be right out.” She looked at her sorry self in the mirror and wondered how she’d be feeling if she really had spent the night with Walt. Had she made a mistake turning hi
m down? After changing, she sighed and went out to her living room where she sank onto the couch. “So, what’s going on?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, and she knew that was a bad sign. He only did that when he was nervous about something.

  “I’ve got a solution to keep the business running, but you might not like it.”

  “Try me.”

  “Tommy hired a new officer who needs a place to live … and I offered to rent him my house. He’s got a wife and a kid, so I’d be in the way.”

  “And where will you stay?”

  He gave her a great big smile. “Here?”

  She held up a hand. “Why not Tommy’s place?”

  “I don’t want to get in the way when Jane is staying there. He just got rid of Mitch. Plus, I’m not so sure Tommy and I wouldn’t fight about the remote. Or the last beer in the fridge.”

  She crossed her arms and cursed her hangover. “So you want to stay here. With me.” Maybe if she were feeling better she’d have the sense to argue that this was a horrible idea.

  “All the rent money will go right to Elegant Eats.”

  She sighed and rubbed her neck, just like Brad. If he was willing to give up his house and use the rent for their business, the least she could do was let him stay with her. And she did have a spare room. Sure, she’d have to move the treadmill she never used. And Scooter’s nose might be out of joint. But living with Brad? She’d have to find plenty of reasons to go out.

  “I guess we have no choice.”

  “Try to rein in the enthusiasm,” he said, but he was smiling and rushed over to hug her. “This gives us a second chance with the business.”

  She nodded and wished she didn’t feel like folding herself against him and whispering her thanks that he was so committed to making their business work. For being so dependable and reliable. For being so perfect.

  He stood up, and his big, thick thighs were right in front of her. Yeah, this was gonna be real easy, living with the likes of him.