I swallowed back the golf ball sized lump in my throat. "There's lemonade over there," I said, pointing to the table with the tray. "Would you like some?"
He stood. "Sounds great, actually." He glanced at my glass, and then reached for it, his eyes glued to mine, and his voice barely above a whisper. "Would you like me to top that off for you?"
I tossed back what was left of my lemonade, pretending it was a shot of tequila, and handed him my glass. "Yes, please," I said, choking from the quick gulp. Then I burped. "Oh my gosh," I said, covering my mouth. "I'm so sorry." My face heated up, and I knew it was redder than a tomato. I buried my face in my hands. "Oh my God."
He laughed. My face was still buried in my hands when he came back with a fresh glass of lemonade, and nudged my arm with his. Electricity shot through my body and I shuddered.
"I'm not sure I should have anymore," I said, but took the glass anyway. "I might have reached my limit."
"It's possible," he said, giving me that same smile that made my heart skip a beat before. It did it again, too. He sat back in his rocker. "But I'll tell you what. If you go over the legal lemonade limit, I'll stick close by so nothing happens. I don't want you running off and burping like that for just anyone." He sat in the rocker and leaned toward me once again. "Your voice is incredibly sexy when you're embarrassed."
I buried my face in my hands again. "I'm beyond embarrassed."
He nodded. "I know, and I love it, but seriously, don't sweat it," he said, rocking in his chair. "It was actually pretty impressive. Can you burp the alphabet?"
My eyes widened. "Good Lord, no. I don't think I have the lung capacity for something like that."
He frowned. "Too bad. I always said I'd marry a girl who could burp the alphabet. I was hoping it would be you, too."
I blushed again, feeling something sizzle from my heart and straight down.
"You're cute when you get all red like that," he said, grinning.
I was way past embarrassed, and edging up close to utterly horrified. Thankfully, Stan stepped outside at that moment and saved me.
"Well looky here," he said in his sweet southern drawl. "Me and Lou were hoping you two would meet." He turned back into the Inn. "Looks like the two young'uns met after all," he said.
Ben shifted his eyes in my direction and whispered, "I think they're trying to hook us up."
I whispered back. "I think you're right."
"Should we play along?" he asked.
I wanted to jump out of my seat and into his lap screaming, Yes, yes, for the love of all that's holy, yes! but I nodded instead.
"Okay, watch this." Ben stood and shook Stan's hand. "Me and Carly, we want to thank you, Stan. We're already in love, after just a brief meeting at the creek." He mimicked Stan's southern drawl. "We might could drop one-a our rooms and shack up together, if you ain't opposed."
Stan's eyes popped and Ben busted out laughing. "Gotcha," he said, hitting the old man gently on the shoulder. "I'm just playing with you, Stan. Figured since you've tried to make a love connection for me for the past five years, I ought to let you think it's working."
Stan laughed, and Lou came rushing outside. "Well lookie here," she said. "A match made in Heaven." She winked at me. "Magical, I tell ya," and then she retreated back into the house.
Stan and Ben kidded for a bit longer, and then Stan insisted Ben sit back down and pay attention to me. I wasn't going to argue. Having those blue eyes darken in intensity while he looked at me made me hot, both literally and figuratively, but in a way I really, really liked.
"So you've been coming here for five years?" I asked Ben after Stan went back inside.
He nodded. "I come here when I'm struggling with my music." He leaned back and rocked. "I grew up coming here with my mom, and something about this place, this town even, it just brings out the song in me."
I laughed.
He stopped rocking and raised his eyebrow at me. "What's so funny?"
"Do all musicians say cheesy stuff all the time? Because that was really cheesy."
He leaned back and rocked again, a slow and steady movement with his right foot that made the muscle in his thigh flex each time he pushed back. That tiny movement made my hands sweat.
"Not all musicians. Just the extremely talented ones."
"So what do you do with your music after you've finished writing it? Do you sell it?"
He clipped his head back and forth once. "I usually record it."
"That's so cool," I said. "So do you have a CD or something? Do you have a music contract or something?"
"Or something," he said. "But I'm just trying to write the best stuff I can. That's what's most important to me." He shifted his head toward me. "So what brings you to the Inn? Looking for places to have your wedding?"
"I see what you did there," I said, smirking. "But no, I'm sure as heck not planning my wedding." I tapped my foot on the porch, speeding up the rocking of my chair. "I just needed a little me time."
"I get it. Recent break-up?"
I shot him a surprised look. "Why would you say that?"
He lifted his shoulders and then dropped them back down. "This is a bed and breakfast. It's the perfect place for romance so I figured if you were in a relationship, you'd have brought the guy along. A girls' weekend would probably happen at a spa or something, but not a bed and breakfast. So you're not on a girls' weekend and you're here alone. Do the math. Adds up to a break-up to me."
I nodded. "Very perceptive for a musician." And then I leaned my head back on the chair, working hard to relax.
"You feel like talking about it?"
There was a sweetness to his tone that made me want to blurt out all of my thoughts and feelings—from my frustration and touch of relief about Matthew to my thoughts on South African coffee farms using child labor. He was just the kind of person I felt I could share my soul with, without feeling afraid or submissive. "Are you looking for material for your music? A good break-up love song maybe? Or do you write more of the head-banger kind of stuff?" I giggled at my own joke, when really I was just covering up my sensitivities about the end of my relationship with Matthew.
His mouth lifted into a half-moon-shaped grin. "Head-banger? I didn't know people still used that expression."
I admired his lips and how they curved upwards, taking my breath away. I didn't even realize he was still talking.
"Carly?"
"Uh, yes, sorry." I shook my head to refocus. "I got lost in my thoughts for a second. What did you say?"
"I said no, I'm not looking for material so your story's safe with me." He crossed his heart with this hand. "Promise."
"Okay then, yes, there was a break-up a few months ago."
"And you've just found the time to deal with it now?"
I fiddled with my hands to avoid eye contact. "He's getting married tomorrow to the girl he started dating right after we broke up."
He stopped rocking. "Ouch."
"Who gets married after only three months?"
"Apparently, your ex."
I flinched. "Talk about ouch."
"I'm sorry. I was just kidding around."
"I know, no worries."
"You know you're better off without him, right?"
I nodded. "I do." I turned in his direction. "You know what's funny? I don't even want to be with him. I honestly don't. I just don't get how someone can fall in love and decide to get married—let alone plan the damn wedding—in three months." I shook my head, my teeth starting to clench. "Unless you can just throw gobs of money out there and people will do whatever you want."
He pushed his foot on the porch to start the rocker moving again. "I think it's possible. I feel like when you know, you know. Sometimes love just happens, even when two people barely know each other. It happens. Probably not to everyone, but it does happen."
I scrunched my eyebrows together and frowned. "You're not helping."
"I didn't know I was supposed to help. I thought we were just
discussing it." He winked at me. "I'm not saying that's the case for your ex—what's his name?"
"Matthew."
"Matthew." He nodded once. "I'm just saying it's possible."
"I don't disagree with you on that, but you'd have to know Matthew to understand why it doesn't make sense to me. We were together for five years." I shook my head, still shocked by the fact that he was getting married. "For five years we talked about the things I wanted and the things he wanted and I thought we were moving along, you know? Well, sort of anyway, but then one day he tells me he doesn't see himself spending the rest of his life with me." I rocked harder in the chair. "I let myself believe he just wasn't the marrying type because he wasn't mature enough, but it turns out he was. He just didn't want to marry me."
"I'm kind of glad he's marrying someone else," Ben said. "Otherwise I wouldn't have met you." He showed me his sparkling whites again and my bones turned to jelly.
"And I'm a barrel of fun at the moment, aren't I?"
He tilted his head and smirked. "I have a feeling you're gonna let loose any second."
I held my lemonade out and twisted the glass in my hand. "Maybe if this had a little vodka in it, but otherwise the chances of me letting loose are pretty slim."
"Vodka can be arranged. So what do you do when you're not holed up in a bed and breakfast with a musician who's making you talk about the one thing you came here to forget?"
"I'm a graphic designer. I work in Atlanta."
"Graphic designer, eh? So what exactly is a graphic designer?"
"We're visual thinkers." I pulled my back away from the chair. "We create messages through visual mediums. You know, things like ads, presentations, you name it. I have three accounts I manage. You might know one of them if you're from the Atlanta area."
"That I am," he said. "Been there my whole life."
"Me too."
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I owe a world of thanks to my creative team at Booktrope Editions for their help, support and most importantly, patience! Clarice, Stephanie, Tatiana, Wendy, you all rock! Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Many thanks to my Street Team for their help in getting the word out about my books and for thinking I'm somebody important. I have them totally fooled.
My family, always supportive and wonderful, deserves a big thank you. I promise if I ever make it rich as a writer, I'll treat you to dinner. :)
Oh, a quick not to my brother Kurt (AKA Paul). Your character is still alive. Maybe you'll get killed off in book four. Who knows?
Most importantly, thank you to my mom in Heaven. Without her, there wouldn't be a Fran. I hope they have books in Heaven.
And especially, a big thank you to my husband, Jack. I love you, forever and always.
—Carolyn
Get updates about Carolyn's new releases
and receive a free download of her holiday romance novella,
Santa's Gift, A Cumming Christmas Novella,
at: http://carolynridderaspenson.com/?page_id=835
ALSO BY CAROLYN RIDDER ASPENSON
Unfinished Business: An Angela Panther Novel
Unbreakable Bonds: An Angela Panther Novel
The Inn at Laurel Creek
MORE GREAT READS FROM BOOKTROPE
Joe Vampire by Steven Luna (Paranormal/Humor) Hey, folks. I’m Joe, and I’m a vampire – not by choice, mind you, but by accident…a fate-twisting, fang-creating, blood lust-inducing misunderstanding.
Touched by A.J. Aalto (Paranormal) The media has a nickname for Marnie Baranuik, though she’d rather they didn’t; they call her the Great White Shark. A forensic psychic twice-touched by the Blue Sense, which gives her the ability to feel the emotions of others and read impressions left behind on objects, Marnie is too mean to die young, backed up by friends in cold places, and has a mouth as demure as a cannon’s blast.
The Collection by T.K. Lasser (Paranormal Romance) A human lie detector and an immortal art thief are thrust together in a ruthless plot of high stakes acquisition and murder by a black market art buyer.
Haunted by Eileen Maksym (Fiction) The Society for Paranormal Researchers, a group of college friends, get involved in a dangerous investigation of a local haunted house.
Discover more books and learn about our
new approach to publishing at booktrope.com.
Uncharted Territory (An Angela Panther Mystery Book 3) Page 31
