Falling for Mr. Right: Still the One ; His Proposal, Their Forever

by Michelle Major

  Grandma laughed. “Bailey wanted to be naked, but I had my hardwood floors and rugs to protect.”

  Heat spread up Bailey’s neck. She bit the inside of her cheek. In less than ten seconds, her face would clash with her hair. “Grandma. You’re as bad as Mom.”

  “What?” Grandma feigned innocence. “You’ve always been a free spirit. Nothing wrong with that.”

  Bailey’s insides twisted while she kept a straight face. Justin was looking at her, and she felt unusually self-conscious. “I prefer wearing clothes these days.”

  “You look wonderful in whatever you wear,” Grandma said.

  “Except for those paint-splattered coveralls.” Justin handed Bailey the tray containing a plate full of lunch, utensils, napkin and glasses of lemonade. “If the fashion police had been patrolling the streets the other day, we’d still be trying to raise bail.”

  Bailey grimaced. “They aren’t that bad.”

  “Yes, they are.” Grandma’s scrunched face matched her disapproving tone. “Please tell me you’re joking about wearing them.”

  “I’ve only worn them once in public,” Bailey admitted. “Satisfied?”

  “Yes, but that was one time too many.” Grandma motioned to the lunch—meat loaf with mashed potatoes, green beans and homemade biscuits. “You need to start chowing down. There are brownies for dessert.”

  “You made my favorites.”

  “Anything for you, dear. And Justin.” Grandma picked up her purse. “I have to go.”

  Bailey’s muscles tightened into a tapestry of knots. Her grandmother leaving them alone was a bad sign—a matchmaking sign. “We haven’t visited.”

  “You see me almost every day.” Grandma waved her off. “Risa is busy, so I need to pick up the kids from school.”

  “Amelia and Maddox don’t get out of school for at least two hours. And they take the bus home whenever I babysit them.”

  “I’m a busy woman. Places to go. People to see.” Grandma headed toward the door, then glanced over her shoulder. “Delighted to meet you, Justin. See you soon.”

  He nodded. “Thanks for lunch.”

  “I’ll pick up the containers later. Have fun, you two.” With that, Grandma strode out the door, a small hurricane about to be set loose on Haley’s Bay.

  “The woman is a spitfire.” He sat on the far side of couch. “She asked so many questions.”

  “I’m sorry. Grandma wants to know everything about everybody. She uses her newfound knowledge to meddle. Managing others’ lives—well, trying—keeps her young.”

  “No apology needed. I got a great lunch and made a new friend.”

  “You don’t mind that your name will be bandied about town? Might already be happening.”

  He moved to the cushion next to her, cutting the distance between them in half. His smile hinted of mischief and something else Bailey didn’t want to name. “Your grandmother is a sweetheart, but I caught on fast that she was trying to pry me open with her charm.”

  “You should have woken me up. I would have run interference.”

  “You were tired.”

  “You didn’t have to stay.”

  Justin shrugged. “Lilah asked for my help with lunch. I couldn’t say no.”

  Bailey shook her head. “My grandma can whip up a meal for forty without blinking an eye.”

  “Yeah, she seemed to have everything under control.”

  “But you went along?”

  “She’s your grandmother. There’s no other place I’d rather be right now.”

  The sincerity in his voice tugged at Bailey’s heart. The last thing she needed from Justin. “What about Kent?”

  “I texted him. He’s at the courthouse.” Justin pointed to her lunch. “Eat. The meat loaf won’t taste as good cold.”

  She stabbed her fork into her lunch. Food would distract her from the man. She took a bite. Spices and flavors exploded in her mouth. “Mmm.”

  “Your grandmother’s a good cook.”

  “The best.” Bailey scooped up another forkful. “My mom conceded defeat in the kitchen, but one-upped Grandma by having seven children to her three. My mom, however, would never admit that was her reason for having a big family. She adores Grandma.”

  “Cole family gatherings must be interesting.”

  Bailey wiped her mouth with the napkin. “They are. Crowded and loud, but no fighting unless we’re talking sports.”

  “Seahawks fans?”

  “My brothers and sister are. Sundays at my grandma’s house during football season are mandatory. Doesn’t matter if you like sports or not, so I watch the commercials.”

  “Your way of fitting in.”

  Once again he’d said something that made Bailey think he could see right through her. Not about to admit anything, she focused on her lunch. Bailey ate. Maybe silence would convince him to leave. The seconds turned into a minute, then two.

  “I reported the stray dog to Animal Control,” he said.

  She choked, coughed, grabbed her lemonade to wash down whatever had gone down the wrong way. She cleared her throat. “Did my grandmother tell you to do that?”

  A beat passed. A sheepish grin appeared. “She didn’t want you to worry.”

  Bailey’s fork slipped from her fingers, clattered against the tray. “Crap. This is worse than I thought.”

  “Excuse me.”

  She took a breath. “My grandmother’s picked you. For me.”

  Justin’s eyebrows drew together. Lines crinkled his forehead. “She said that a minute or so after meeting me.”

  “Timing doesn’t matter to Grandma. She’s a romantic at heart. Love at first sight. Cupid’s arrow.” Bailey rubbed her aching temples. “My grandmother married my grandpa after knowing him three days. They eloped and were married for over half a century before he died. I bet she’s over at the B and B where you’re staying, telling my aunt Ida Mae that we’re making out on the couch right now.”

  “We’d better get started, then.”

  Bailey ignored his joke. “Grandma’s been wrong about her picks in the past, so I’ll remind her about that when she brings you up.”

  He scooted closer, until his thigh pressed against hers. “Is that going to be before or after we make out?”

  Bailey’s pulse sprinted as if she were running a hundred-yard dash. “Very funny.”

  “You’re smiling.”

  Was she?

  He slid his arm around Bailey’s shoulders.

  His breath tickled her neck like a cat’s whisker against her skin. Speak up. Say something. Stand.

  But she couldn’t. Because a part of her wanted to see what happened next.

  Justin leaned forward.

  She met him halfway, driven by a mix of curiosity and desire.

  His lips touched hers. A spark flared, made her stiffen, but then the feel of his lips relaxed her, turning her into a mass of goo.

  Heat, salt, wow. Justin’s kiss tasted better than any she’d experienced or imagined. She arched against him.

  His lips moved over hers.

  Time stopped. Her brain short-circuited, not wanting to think but feel and enjoy. Her heart wanted more...wanted him.

  He drew back. His gaze met hers. “Time for dessert.”

  Bailey’s mind went straight to her bedroom. So. Not. Good.

  She looked away from him, touched her lips. The kiss was short, but hinted at...possibilities. “Why did you kiss me?”

  “Because I wanted to. I’ve thought about kissing you since the first day we met.”

  “Even though I looked like a crazy clown?”

  “You had your moments of normalcy. Though the clown look was a little endearing.”

  Her heart sighed. She needed to make it stop doing that.

  “I’m glad I did.”
He smiled. “No regrets.”

  Her lips tingled from his kiss. She kept thinking how easy kissing him again would be. But she...couldn’t.

  The inn. The staff. Her family.

  If she wasn’t careful, this was going to erupt into a huge, tsunami-type mess. Cleanup could take years.

  Bailey took a breath, then another. “Kiss me again and you’ll have regrets. A lot of them.”

  He flinched, a surprised look on his face. “You didn’t seem to mind when we were kissing. You seemed into it.”

  “Maybe I was. Now I’m not.” Bailey swallowed around the lump in her throat. She had to get away from him. “Thanks for your help. But you need to leave. Now.”

  Before she changed her mind and kissed him and showed him what kind of dessert she’d prefer instead of brownies.

  * * *

  Seven days passed. Seven days Justin spent thinking about Bailey and her amazing kiss that made him want more. Seven days he looked for the stray mutt after finding out Animal Control had yet to catch the dog, so he’d have a reason to contact her. The damn dog must have worn an invisibility cloak because he hadn’t seen a glimpse of dirty brown fur. Maybe Bailey had one, too. He hadn’t seen or heard from her.

  No texts, no calls, no meetings about the ownership of the inn or the dog.

  His fault for kissing her, but he still had no regrets. Her kiss had been both a surprise and electric. She’d met him halfway and her kissing him back had been a turn-on. Was that why she’d gotten so upset? Because she’d wanted the kiss as much as he had? Women had gotten mad over less. He guessed he would find out in a few minutes.

  He parked his truck on the street in front of Lilah’s stately, three-story Victorian that overlooked Haley’s Bay. He glanced at the horizon to see the sun setting. The rhyme he’d learned from a fisherman in Depot Bay, Oregon about a red sky at night being a sailor’s delight played through his mind. Tonight’s red sky would please fishermen and boaters wanting to head out in the morning.

  The invitation from Ida Mae to attend Bailey’s Chardonnay and Canvas event at Lilah’s house had come at the perfect time. Saying no had never crossed Justin’s mind. He wanted a chance to see Bailey, to figure out why she’d gotten under his skin.

  Colorful painted pots with blossoming flowers sat on the front steps. The bright color combination looked like Bailey’s work.

  This evening would be interesting. An artist, he wasn’t. The only painting he’d done involved drywall. But to see Bailey, he’d happily pick up a brush and pretend to be Picasso for the next three hours.

  A white swing hung on the left side of the porch, inviting visitors to sit and enjoy the view. He imagined Bailey out here, the breeze toying with the ends of her hair, her bare feet pushing the swing back and forth. He could almost smell her floral perfume.

  A woman had never been on his mind the way Bailey was, not even his ex-wife. He and Taryn had met in college and become good friends. A romantic relationship had been the next step. After they married, they’d bought a bungalow in Lincoln City, but she soon tired of life in the small town on the Oregon coast with him away so much on job sites. She wanted to move to Portland, where she’d grown up. He wanted to live near their company headquarters. Taryn decided to move without him. She hadn’t cared about his job or anything except what she’d wanted. She’d filed for divorce shortly after that. Better off without her.

  Justin stood on the welcome mat, stared at the word written in black script. Lilah and Ida Mae might want him here, but what about Bailey? A weird feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

  Sure, he was attracted to her, but he couldn’t be distracted. He wanted life to return to normal, where his every thought didn’t revolve around a pretty, copper-haired woman. He didn’t want to be kept on his toes or have his emotions go from one extreme to another or be tempted to kiss her again. He liked being single and not having to explain himself to a woman.

  He knocked.

  The door opened. Lilah’s white curls bounced. Her smile reached her twinkling blue eyes.

  “You’re here. Wonderful.” She pulled him into the house. “I’m so happy Ida Mae invited you. We had a last-minute cancellation and she thought you’d be the perfect substitute. I hope you don’t mind hanging with our garden club tonight painting flowers.”

  “Thanks for including me. I’ve been curious about Bailey’s classes.”

  Lilah patted his arm. “You’ll enjoy yourself.”

  Justin didn’t need a PhD in human behavior to know grandmother-style matchmaking was afoot. Bailey had made him uncomfortable when she asked him to leave her home. His turn to do the same to her, but in a more fun way. “I’m ready to paint, though a mechanical pencil is more my tool of choice than a brush.”

  “You’ll do fine. Bailey is an excellent teacher. She’s also a fantastic cook. Did you know she used to work in the kitchen at the inn?”

  He thought Lilah might pull out Bailey’s scrapbook next to show her winsome, braided, diaper-clad babyhood. He wouldn’t mind. She was probably a cute, hard-nosed, in-your-face kid. “She told me, but mentioned something about being a better artist.”

  “Bailey’s too modest. Have her cook you dinner. I promise you won’t be disappointed with the meal she’ll serve.”

  Subtlety wasn’t the woman’s strong point, just like her granddaughter. “I’m sure I would love it, but she shouldn’t be standing in the kitchen while she heals.”

  “That’s true. Tonight will be hard enough. But her brother Declan, one of the twins, dropped off a stool earlier for her to use.”

  Twins? Bailey had never mentioned she had twin siblings. But then again, he hadn’t known her long. “She’s lucky to have her family take such good care of her.”

  Lilah tsked. “Bailey is too independent to allow anyone to take care of her. Been that way since she was three and the twins, Camden and Declan, were born. But we help where Bailey allows. She’s let us do a little more with her injury, which tells me how much her toe must hurt.”

  Justin wasn’t surprised. Bailey’s middle name could be self-reliance. He followed Lilah into a large room filled with long, rectangular tables holding easels, white plastic paint trays and brushes. A black apron hung over the back of each chair.

  “A couple of my grandsons moved the furniture out earlier,” Lilah said. “Good boys, though a tad on the wild side. They need to find good women to straighten them out.”

  Over toward the side of the room stood a group of white-haired women chatting, laughing and sipping wine. The average age appeared to be seventy-five, maybe eighty.

  “Your garden club?” he asked.

  Lilah beamed. “Friends since before you were born.”

  He didn’t have many long-term friends. He’d grown up moving from town to town, as resorts were opened, never staying longer than two years in one place except when he went to college and then got married. Until he came to Haley’s Bay and met the Cole family, his transient life these past few years hadn’t seemed bad. After the divorce, he’d sold their house and rented a condo because he spent more of his time at job sites than at home. But now he wished he’d had...more.

  “Chardonnay for the gentleman.” Ida Mae handed him a wineglass. “So glad you could join us. Linda Ross had to cancel, and we didn’t want her spot to go empty.”

  “Thanks for the invitation and the wine.” Justin took a sip. He was a beer drinker—craft beer was his favorite—but this was tasty with a hint of oak and touch of vanilla. “I’m looking forward to tonight’s class.”

  Especially seeing Bailey. He searched the crowd of women, but didn’t see any copper ringlets. Maybe she was sitting...

  “Justin?”

  He turned toward the sound of Bailey’s voice. His breath caught. She stood, as if a vision, in a maroon, ankle-length skirt, a slightly oversize T-shirt with colorful swirls and her hair
pulled back in a loose braid. He hadn’t conjured her in his imagination. She was real, standing in front of him within arm’s reach.

  “Hi.” He forced a greeting from his dry throat.

  Her gaze narrowed. “What are you doing here?”

  Ida Mae raised her wineglass. “When I heard we had an open spot, I invited Justin. Much better than having him spend another night hunched over blueprints in his room. I want my guests to have fun while they stay at the B and B, not work all the time.”

  Justin fought a grimace. She made him sound like a workaholic. “I’m new in town. Don’t know a lot of people yet. And I have a lot of projects to finish.”

  Well, start, once they gained possession of the inn.

  “Working is important, but you need to have fun, too. A good thing you have us to keep you company tonight.” Lilah patted his arm. “Won’t having Justin here be fun, Bailey?”

  “Letting Linda’s spot go empty would be a waste.” Bailey sounded on edge. She dragged her teeth over her lower lip.

  He remembered kissing those lips. “I’ve only painted on construction sites. I’ll try not to be too much trouble.”

  “A man who looks like you has trouble written all over him,” Ida Mae teased.

  Lilah shooed her away, then looked at Bailey. “I’m going to check the appetizers and wine. Why don’t you give Justin a quick intro about how tonight will work?”

  Bailey watched her grandmother head to the food table. “I can’t believe my great-aunt dragged you into my grandmother’s scheme.”

  “Matchmaking?”

  “Aunt Ida Mae is Grandma’s partner-in-crime. Be glad my sister-in-law Risa isn’t here or we’d be dealing with a trio instead of a duo.”

  He wanted to wipe the embarrassment from Bailey’s eyes. Though he liked the cute blush on her cheeks. “Hey, no one dragged me. I’m curious about the painting class. Might be something to add to our guest offerings. And I’m honored your grandmother approves of me. Even if we both know nothing will happen between us with the inn’s ownership at stake.”

  Relief filled Bailey’s gaze. “You’re really being nice about this.”

  Crap. Justin rocked back on his heels. Inn or not, he didn’t want her to think of him as nice. Sexy, handsome, not nice. “How else would I be? I get a night where I’m the only man in a roomful of women.”