Lovebird Café Box Set

by Dylann Crush

  I took Liam’s hand as we climbed onto the bleachers. He held on for a brief moment before pulling away. It wasn’t that long ago he’d been climbing all over me and begging for one more hug or kiss. He still blamed me for pulling him away from his friends in LA. I’d tried to explain myself over and over. Hopefully one of these days he’d realize what I’d done was for the best.

  As people continued to file into the stands, Robbie stepped onto the pitcher’s mound with a microphone in hand.

  “Thanks everyone for coming today. Wow. I wasn’t expecting such a huge turnout.” He tugged on the front of his baseball cap as he scanned the crowd. “As most of you know, I had an older brother. Jeff was the best ball player I’ve ever known. Some people said he could have gone all the way to the majors.”

  Heads bobbed up and down throughout the crowd in agreement.

  “Unfortunately, his life was cut short, and he never had a chance to find out.”

  I glanced to where Cassie stood. Robbie’s mom had made the trip from California for the dedication. My poor Aunt Karen. She held a tissue to her eyes.

  “All my life I’ve wanted to find a way to honor Jeff’s memory. I think he’d be pretty proud of this little set up.” Robbie nodded. A few people clapped or whistled, encouraging him to go on.

  “So today, I want to dedicate the Jefferson Jordan Junior Baseball Field, where kids can play ball day or night.” He pointed to the huge lights.

  The crowd cheered. As the mayor stepped out onto the mound to say a few words, I leaned over to Liam.

  “I’ve got to go help with the refreshments. You want to stay here or come with me?”

  “Can I just go sit in the truck?”

  “No. You need to say hi to Aunt Karen and congratulate Robbie. Then you can come help me pass out cupcakes and lemonade.”

  “Oh yay.” Sarcasm was his new superpower.

  “After that I’ll run you home to feed the raccoons again before I head to the reception, okay?”

  He nodded. I’d take what I could get when it came to Liam.

  I walked along the fence line to the place where we’d set up tables earlier in the day. Ryder was already there, unloading cupcakes from the delivery van. I joined him, setting out dozens and dozens of cupcakes. Cassie had spent most of the past few days in the kitchen, baking up a storm so she’d have enough for the event.

  Red velvet with cream cheese frosting sat next to dulce de leche cakes with caramel ganache. I’d probably gain ten pounds just by breathing in the heavenly scent of so much sugar.

  By the time we finished, the first few people began to wander over. I filled paper cups of lemonade and made sure the cupcake table stayed full. I was just about to start looking for Liam when someone bumped me from behind. The tray of cupcakes I’d been holding sailed from my hand. I watched in slow motion as it tumbled, cupcakes falling left and right, and straight into the crotch of a pair of jeans.

  “Ooops.” My lips twisted into a grimace. Afraid to meet the gaze of the person I’d just assaulted with frosting, I knelt to the ground instead. Gathering cupcakes one by one, I apologized to the patch of grass directly under my feet. “I am so incredibly sorry.”

  “This seems to be a habit of yours.”

  The voice I’d been replaying through my mind for the past twenty-four hours drew my attention. No, please don’t let it be him. Not again.

  My pleas fell on deaf divine ears. I stood on wobbly legs, my hands full of damaged cupcakes and met his gaze. “It’s not.”

  He took a flimsy paper napkin from the table and attempted to wipe buttercream from his navel. “Really? Because experience is telling me otherwise.”

  I tossed the grass-covered cupcakes in the trash bin. Grabbing a handful of napkins, I continued to offer an apology. “I mean it. I’m usually pretty good with my hands.”

  A heat wave rolled up my neck, washing over my cheeks. A quick glance at those magnetic green eyes showed the innocent entendre wasn’t lost on him.

  “I mean, because I use them a lot. As in massage therapy.” Stop talking, Harmony. Before you dig yourself into a hole so deep you’ll need an extension ladder to climb out.

  “So you’ve said.” He tossed a wad of frosting-smeared napkins in the trash. His shirt looked like someone had finger painted on it. Actually, I could almost make out the shape of a heart just under his solar plexus. “I’ve been thinking, and I’d actually like to take you up on your offer.”

  “My offer…” I racked my brain, trying to remember what kind of offer I’d made to this dangerously good-looking man I couldn’t help but want to lick right now.

  “Of a massage. Since you spilled on me yesterday.”

  “Oh, right. Yes, absolutely. I’d love to rub you down.” God, no. Something had happened between my brain and my mouth. Words were coming out so wrong.

  One of his eyebrows quirked up. “You have a license, right?”

  “Yes. An official one. I actually worked as a massage therapist full time back in California. Your body will be in safe hands.” Make it stop. Someone please, make me stop.

  “Harmony, there you are.” Aunt Karen approached. “I haven’t had a chance to say hi yet.”

  Dustin bristled as she came nearer. Being the super sensitive energy maven that I was, at least when I wasn’t tossed completely out of my element by a man in sugar-coated jeans, I picked up on the shift right away. As she leaned in to give me a hug he took a few steps back.

  “Hi, Aunt Karen. It’s so good to see you. I know it means so much to Robbie and Cassie that you were able to make the trip.”

  “Your mother sends her love. She misses you and Liam something awful. How are you settling in?” She held my hand in hers. Aunt Karen had always been my favorite. When she gave me her attention it was always her full attention. She always made me feel like the most important person in the world.

  “We’re doing fine. I’m waiting tables at the café while I figure out what I want to do.”

  Dustin continued to retreat, one step at a time, clearly uncomfortable with my aunt’s presence.

  “Hey, are you serious about that massage?” I asked, right before he turned away.

  “Um, yeah.” He pasted a smile on his lips and faced Aunt Karen and me. “Just let me know when you’re available.”

  “You still have my number?”

  He fidgeted, tucking his thumb in his pocket then shifting to cross his arms instead. “Yeah, somewhere.”

  “Wait a sec, I’ll give it to you again.” I reached into my pocket. No business card. No paper. No pen. “Aunt Karen, do you happen to have a pen on you?”

  “Well, I’m sure I do somewhere. Let me check.” She opened her purse and began to dig around. Every once in a while she looked up at Dustin like she was trying to figure out who he was.

  “You remember Dustin, don’t you?” I asked.

  “Dustin Jarrett?” Her hand paused in her purse. She peered up at him through her glasses, squinting like she couldn’t trust her own eyes.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Dustin reversed his retreat and came closer. While the two of them sized each other up, I tried to read the situation. If my take on things was accurate, Dustin looked terrified.

  “Why, I heard you were living out in my neck of the woods now.” Aunt Karen reached out a hand.

  Dustin let it linger before brushing his still-frosting-coated hand on the front of his jeans and giving her hand a squeeze. “Mom said you’d moved out west.”

  “Took me way too long to make that decision. But coming back now, why, the humidity alone is enough to do me in.” She smiled, a genuine one, and Dustin’s shoulders relaxed.

  “I do love the predictable weather out there.”

  “So how long have you been back in town?” she asked. “Your mother must be thrilled to have you home.”

  “Yes, ma’am, she is. I just came back recently. Don’t plan on staying for very long.”

  “It’s nice that you were able to come today. I’m sure
Robbie appreciates it.”

  Dustin’s gaze wandered down to his feet. “I haven’t had a chance to check in with him yet.”

  “Well, be sure you do. He’d love to see you, I’m sure.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “Speaking of Robbie, I need to go see if they need help with anything. Will y’all excuse me?” She rubbed a hand along my arm. “I sure am glad you’re here, hon. We’ll have a chance to catch up before I head home, I hope.”

  “I’ll make sure.” I pulled her into a hug, letting the same scent of my mom’s perfume settle my nerves.

  “Oh, and here’s that pen you wanted.” She handed it to me then turned to find Robbie in the crowd.

  “So my mom was right,” Dustin said.

  “About what?” I stood on my tiptoes and craned my neck, trying to find Liam in the crowd. He’d be so disappointed he missed a chance to meet Dustin in person.

  “She said you moved to town to help Robbie at the café. I seriously hope you’re not planning on making a career out of waiting tables.” His lips quirked into a grin, obviously in a better mood since my aunt walked away.

  Even though he was giving me crap, he was pretty cute when he smiled.

  “Here.” I scribbled my number onto a napkin. “Give me a call when you want that massage. I’m a much better massage therapist than waitress, I promise.”

  He shoved it into his back pocket. “No offense, but that wouldn’t take much.”

  Before I could come up with a good reply, he’d turned and walked away.

  9

  Dustin

  “What’s going on?” Scarlett gazed up at me from the ground floor of the metal outbuilding we used as a garage.

  “Nothing. Figured I’d clear some of this stuff out since I don’t need it anymore.” I climbed down the ladder to join her.

  She ran a hand along a rung on the ladder. “We used to spend so much time out here.”

  “Those were the days, huh?” I yanked a bandana out of my back pocket to swipe it across my forehead.

  “I used to love watching you take a bike apart and put it back together again.” She moved toward the workbench on the back wall. “Mom hasn’t touched a thing out here since you left.”

  I swallowed the lump threatening to rise in my throat. “One more reason to get rid of all this. Less for her to worry about.”

  “It’s you she’s worried about.” Scarlett turned to face me. “I know you say everything’s going great and you couldn’t be better, but I don’t believe you.”

  “What’s not to believe? Besides that unfortunate incident with Bobby Bordell, I’m at the top of my game right now.” And I was, too. As soon as I could figure out what turned me into a quivering, nervous mess when I got around the Jordan family, I’d figure out a way to address it and put it behind me.

  “Look, there’s something haunting you. Mom can see it. I can see it. Why do you think you haven’t been back in so long? It’s not because you’ve been too busy.”

  “Well, you seem to have it all figured out. Why don’t you tell me?” I wasn’t used to people digging into my business. Being back home had me feeling things and thinking about things I hadn’t had to deal with in years. Things I thought I’d forced out of my system a long time ago.

  “Um, knock knock.” Someone stood in the big open doorway.

  Harmony. I’d made an appointment for her to come by today and give me that massage. Seemed like a good idea at the time since my shoulder had been screaming in pain. But now, I wondered if maybe it had been a mistake. I already had enough going on with my sister on my case.

  “Come on in,” I said.

  She entered the huge garage, carting something big with a handle. A portable massage table from the looks of it.

  “Who’s this?” Scarlett asked as she gave Harmony the once over. “Aren’t you Rob’s cousin? The one who’s waiting tables at the café?”

  “Yeah, that’s me. Harmony Rogers.” She reached a hand out to my sister. “Nice to meet you.”

  Scarlett took it and the two women stood feet apart, their hands connected.

  “I’m Scarlett Jarrett, Dustin’s sister.” She smiled at me. “His younger sister.”

  I ignored her as I made my way toward Harmony. She looked different this afternoon, less like a waitress and more like the kind of woman I’d think about asking out on a date. If we’d met under different circumstances. And if my most embarrassing moment hadn’t recently been viewed over twelve million times on YouTube. “You sure you want to do this?” I asked.

  “Of course. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Least you can do?” Scarlett twisted her head, looking back and forth between us. “Wait a minute, what’s going on here?” She wasn’t the type to go willingly. Always had to have her nose in my business.

  I put an arm around Scarlett’s shoulder, turning her to face the door. “I helped Harmony out the other day with some car trouble, and she offered to repay me with a massage.” Yeah, that sounded as creepy as I thought it might.

  “Really?” Scarlett’s nose wrinkled. “That seems kind of—”

  “I’m a licensed massage therapist. It’s what I did for a living in California.” Harmony must have sensed where my sister’s warped sense of humor was going. “I’m actually going to be setting up a studio in town.”

  “Oh yeah?” I asked. “That’s great.”

  “Okay.” Scarlett hesitated, reluctant to leave the building. “What should I tell Mom?”

  “What do you mean? Why do you have to tell her anything?” I held myself back from actually pushing Scarlett across the threshold of the giant overhead door.

  “She might wonder where you are.”

  “Then tell her I’m in the garage.”

  “Okay.” Finally. Once her toes cleared the doorway I pushed the button. The door began to lower, casting the cavernous space into semi-darkness.

  “I take it you want me to set up in here?” Harmony asked.

  “If that’s okay with you. I’m staying in my trailer, so it doesn’t necessarily lend itself to a makeshift massage studio.”

  “It’s fine. You should see some of the places I’ve had to work.” She bit her bottom lip, drawing my attention to her mouth and making me wonder exactly what kind of working conditions she’d been exposed to in a place like California.

  “So what do we do here? How well do you want to get to know me today?” I’d been around enough doctors in my life to not give a flying fuck about who saw what parts of me. But there was something different about being in a pristine, sterile hospital room and baring it all, as opposed to stripping in the oil-stained, gasoline-scented garage where I’d spent many an afternoon staring at the Victoria’s Secret catalog.

  “Whatever you’re most comfortable with. If you want to leave your underwear on, that’s fine with me.”

  “What if I’m not wearing any?”

  Unless the low light was playing tricks on me, I swear I saw her take in a deep breath and swallow. “Well then, I guess that takes care of that.”

  “I’m fine taking it all off.”

  “Then by all means. I can step outside if you want a minute to get adjusted.”

  “You’re going to have your hands all over me in less than a minute. I don’t think it matters if you catch a glimpse before we get started.”

  As I undid my belt, she turned her back to me. “Suit yourself. Why don’t you start face down and I’ll work your back first.”

  “Perfect.” I slid my jeans off and tossed them onto the edge of a workbench. Then pulled my shirt over my head and threw it on top. As I settled on the table, easing my whole body on, ignoring the slight wobble, I pulled the sheet over my lower half as best I could.

  “Let’s do it.” I could barely see through the donut thing where my head rested. She came close and the tips of her Birkenstock sandals appeared. Hot pink. She’d caught me off guard with the woo-woo oil shit. But I was curious enough to see just how good her rubd
own would be.

  “My hands might be a little cold,” she warned. I could hear her squirt something into her palm, then she rubbed her hands together. A moment later her palms slid onto my shoulders. I almost winced; the tightness in my right shoulder was uncomfortable as hell.

  “Is the pressure okay?” she asked as she pressed her thumbs under my shoulder blades.

  “Perfect,” I grunted. I’d had massages by brutes whose only joy came in getting me to scream in pain. No way was I going to tell the woo-woo waitress with the magic hands that she had me on the verge of tears.

  “I can go lighter if you’d like.” She continued to push into the pressure points that had been bothering me for days.

  It hurt like a mother fucker but I’d be damned if she got any kind of reaction out of me. What would that say about me if I could walk away from a fall with a broken pelvis but couldn’t handle a sixty-minute massage by a woman who had a unicorn painted on her big toe?

  I tried to focus on her toenail. It was a unicorn, wasn’t it? Maybe it was upside down. No, it had to be a unicorn. Either that or a well-hung horse.

  “Still okay?”

  “Yeah, feels great,” I managed to grunt out. “How are you liking Swallow Springs so far?”

  “Oh, it’s okay. Still getting used to it.” She moved to stand at the head of the table. Her stomach pressed into the top of my head as she leaned over me, running her hands over the rigid muscles of my neck.

  I breathed in, trying to get used to the feel of being so close to a woman. And not just any woman. A woman who couldn’t help but draw a guy’s attention. Most of my massage therapists had been guys. They had the strength to dig in, work on my muscles with the kind of deep pressure I needed. The few women I’d made appointments with in the past could have just as easily been members of the Olympic weightlifting team. It had been a long time since I’d had to struggle with not imagining the woman who was running her hands all over me taking it a step further.