by Jean Oram
Whiskey and Gumdrops
A Blueberry Springs Sweet Romance
Jean Oram
Contents
Books by Jean Oram
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
What’s Next From Blueberry Springs…
Sneak Peek from Rum and Raindrops
More from Blueberry Springs
New From Blueberry Springs: Veils and Vows
The Summer Sisters
About the Author
The Last Page
A Blueberry Springs Sweet Romance
(Book 1)
By Jean Oram
© 2013 Jean Oram
ISBN: 978-0-9918602-3-4
Third Edition
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Please note that unless otherwise mentioned, all characters, places, and events appearing in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, alive or dead, as well as any resemblance to events and places is coincidental and, truly, a little bit cool.
Cover designed by Najla Qamber Designs www.najlaqamberdesigns.com
About Whiskey and Gumdrops
One woman. One case of self-denial. One hunky best friend who wants a lot more.
Watching the man she thought she'd marry tie the knot to someone else spurs small-town waitress, Mandy Mattson, to finally pursue her dreams of opening her own restaurant.
But she can't do it alone. . .
Mandy's going to need the help of her sexy, long-time best friend, Frankie Smith. He has everything she needs--and more. She fell for him years ago, but has never allowed their friendship to evolve into something more. After all, he's "Frankie fall-off-the-tower Smith,” and she has no intention of giving her heart to a dare devil like him. But what happens when Frankie asks Mandy to take the biggest dare of all?
Books by Jean Oram
New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author
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Blueberry Springs
Whiskey and Gumdrops
Rum and Raindrops
Eggnog and Candy Canes
Sweet Treats
Vodka and Chocolate Drops
Tequila and Candy Drops
Companion to the series: Champagne and Lemon Drops (Also available in audio)
Blueberry Springs Series Starter Box Set (Books 1-3)
Veils and Vows
The Promise (Devon and Olivia: a prequel)
The Surprise Wedding (Devon and Olivia)
A Pinch of Commitment (Ethan and Lily)
The Wedding Plan (Luke and Emma)
Accidentally Married (Burke and Jill)
The Marriage Pledge (Moe and Amy)
Mail Order Soulmate (Zach and Catherine)
Companion to the Veils and Vows and Blueberry Springs world (Indigo Bay Sweet Romance Series):
Sweet Matchmaker (Logan and Ginger)
Sweet Holiday Surprise (Cash and Alexa)
Sweet Forgiveness (Ashton and Zoe)
The Summer Sisters
Love and Rumors
Love and Dreams
Love and Trust
Love and Danger
Love and Mistletoe
The Summer Sisters Series Starter Box Set (Books 1-3)
For the Kids
1,001 Boredom Busting Play Ideas
Full, up-to-date book list: www.jeanoram.com/books/
Acknowledgments
Thank you to Blueberry Springs reader Joanne Costello for naming Mandy’s cat. She chose Portia’s name and without Joanne, Mandy’s cat would have been named Fluffinator. Or worse. Much worse.
As well, a HUGE thank you to my husband for continuing to smile and believe in me. Thank you to my daughter for making the most awesome fan art. And to my son for making sure I got lots of writing breaks. As well, thank you to my mother-in-law for taking the munchkin when I needed to get edits done.
In the writing world, thank you to those who have paved the indie path before me and shared your knowledge. Thank you to the epub group, and the secret Facebook writing club (you know who you are). As well, thank you to Jemi, Cali, and Lucy for your keen eyes and ideas at the drafting stage. And thank you to Lucy Wright for squeezing in a beta read when I wasn’t sure about Mandy and Frankie. And, lastly, a thank you everyone can appreciate--Bev Rosenbaum for her fine-detailed edits. Any errors are mine.
Dedication
Ellen Dick
August 9, 1944 - August 15, 2013
My mom: life and adventure cheerleader, writing supporter, artist, best friend, amazing secret keeper, and so much more. You are dearly missed each and every day.
1
Mandy Mattson stood behind an elm, watching the church, her feet turning to nicely pedicured ice blocks due to the slush seeping through her designer boots. The old teak doors swung open and the bride and groom burst into the spring sunshine smiling at each other like they were the only ones in the small town of Blueberry Springs.
Mandy turned away to stop the world from spinning, the rough bark of the tree snagging her long, loose hair. Against the wishes of the smart little voice in her head, she peered around the trunk, waiting as the couple, Oz and Beth, kissed and waved their goodbyes before piling into the limo. Taking several quick steps to the right, she crouched behind a budding bush, seeking better cover as the limo pulled out. The last thing she needed was word to get back to her ex that she’d been wedding-stalking him.
Was it crazy that she’d needed to see proof of his nuptials herself? To see with her own eyes that he had indeed chosen to spend the rest of his life with her rival? To slide that knife a little deeper into her soul?
She sighed and wiggled her left foot which was threatening to fall asleep due to her cramped position. The decent man options were waning and, like the men available, she wasn’t getting any younger. Before long the only ones left would be used and abused models--divorcés--or the late model lemons nobody had wanted in the first place.
She winced as an idea struck her core. If everyone worth snapping up was snapped up … did that imply she wasn’t worth snapping up? Well, obviously not by the man she’
d been with for eight years and had hopelessly chased for the past three and a half. That stupid kiss he’d given her two years ago had given her unrealistically high hopes. She was embarrassed how she’d acted, following him around, setting her kitchen on fire--well, that had been an accident--and basically, trying to respark the connection they’d once had. Although, she was only embarrassed because it hadn’t worked. And a little bit because she’d done some foolish things in an attempt to keep him at her side--and failed. Publicly.
She’d been trusting enough to believe that he was The One and that he’d felt the same way about her. But the truth was, you didn’t know if a man was a lemon until you test drove him for a while. And even then he could still surprise you and dump your designer-clad butt cheeks on the side of the road. Or worse still, you could end up like her parents who hadn’t realized they’d chosen a lemon until it was way too late.
And, sue her but the idea of test driving another man felt like too much work in her current frame of mind.
Mandy stood, stretching her tingling leg as the limo swung around for another toot-toot drive-by. Son of a …
She dashed behind another shrub and ignored the light rustling beside her as she kept an eye on the car. Another rustle-rustle and she glanced over at Mrs. Everett’s cat, Fluffy, who was prancing like she had to pee.
The whole outdoors is yours, kitty.
Wait one second …
She stole another glance at the cat, noting the wide, white stripe down its back--a stripe Fluffy did not possess on her all-black body. The skunk aimed its poufy tail straight at Mandy’s caramel leather jacket with the Italian style zipper.
“Oh!” Mandy scrambled backward, the butt of her perfectly worn-in jeans landing in wet, cold slush as the skunk filled the air with its scent, stinging Mandy’s eyes.
She gagged and choked as she whipped a handful of heavy slush at the skunk, sending it hustling for the protection of a nearby shrub. Between gags she spit out, “You know how much this outfit cost? I’ll never be able to wear it again!”
Not caring if anyone across the street saw her, she stalked deeper into the square, eyes streaming. She’d be lucky if she only smelled into next week and not the rest of her life. She’d be turning off diners at Benny’s Big Burger and get herself fired from the highest tipping restaurant in town. And without Benny’s she’d be exactly…nothing. Her status would officially become a small town nobody waiting for true love to come along and save her from a humiliatingly lonely and meaningless existence.
So not her style, but she could see her future gliding that way as though it was being guided to a runway lit up at night: land here! She needed to do something--anything--to modify that flight plan. But first she had to deal with the present crisis of eau de skunk.
She slipped through the quiet downtown at a light jog, unable to outrun her smell, thankful the majority of the town was still at the wedding. By her estimation she had about two minutes to make it to safety before the streets filled again and the ‘closed due to wedding’ signs disappeared from store doors.
Turning onto Plum Street she headed for the one person who could help her. The one person who had stood by her through all the years and the ups and downs of pursuing and keeping her ex. Frankie.
Everyone believed she’d been cruelly leading on her friend ever since he fell off the water tower while painting her name on it all those years ago--and earning himself the nickname Frankie-Fall-Off-The-Tower-Smith--but they had an agreement. They were just friends. And always would be. Nothing more.
She banged on the back door to his ancient, three-room cottage with the cedar shake roof and cracked clapboard siding. Frankie’s dog, Heart, sounded the alarm on the other side of the door. It opened, then quickly slammed shut again.
“Mandy! What on earth?” Frankie hollered through the door.
She turned the knob and pushed on the door. “Frankie, you’ve gotta help me out. Please?”
“Stay out of here. I’ll never get the smell out!”
Teary-eyed, Mandy gave the warped door a shove. The lock clicked into place and the sounds of Frankie scrambling on the other side sifted through. She slumped onto the small step. Now what? Living above the flower shop she was certain the owner would catch wind of her new aroma and kick her out for stinking up the building--at least until she smelled right again. Nobody wanted their shop smelling like she did. Nobody wanted there anything smelling like she did. And the way her eyes stung, she wasn’t sure she’d ever smell like herself--a gentle blend of vanilla and Pears soap--ever again.
“Frankie, you gotta help me.” She moaned, leaning her head against the closed door. “My brothers will never let me live it down.”
If her older brothers, Devon and Ethan, found out she got sprayed and then caught a whiff of skunk lingering in the town square, they would put two and two together. They would know where she had been and why. In other words, they would mock her patheticocity until her dying day.
This would definitely top Frankie falling off the tower while declaring his undying love.
Her friend appeared around the corner of the house in a pair of old sweats and a ripped T-shirt he usually reserved for renovating his tiny abode. He carried an old drywall mud pail and large shopping bag, his jaw set with determination.
“Follow me.” He pointed to the large garage out back where he rebuilt muscle cars.
Mandy followed him at a distance, watching how he moved, his movements efficient and with purpose.
Pausing at the garage door, Frankie grinned and clipped a clothespin over his nose. He shoved open the door and drew her into the garage. “Let’s see what we can do about your new outdoorsy perfume.”
Mandy looked in Frankie’s bucket of supplies. She held up a small bottle of juice he used to mix with cheap beer when his next paycheck was still a week away. “Clamato? Really?”
He shrugged. “You’re supposed to bathe in tomato juice or peroxide and that’s the best I have.”
Mandy looked at it hopelessly. Her voice wobbled as she said, “I’m going to smell like clams.”
“You can pretend you took a trip to the sea.” He gave her a wink and set down the pail, uncapping the tomato juice. He poured it in, barely covering the surface of the pail’s bottom. They both peered at it doubtfully. Frankie tapped the bottom of the upturned bottle. “I think we’re going to need about eighty of these.”
They looked at each other and started to laugh. Near tears, Mandy plunked herself on the cold concrete floor amid the oil stains and fine layer of grit that had blown in. She leaned against the lime green 1969 Dodge Challenger Frankie was currently rebuilding for a client in the city.
“This sucks. Really, really sucks.”
Frankie crouched in front of her with a washcloth dripping tomato juice. “Come here.” Gently, he tipped her face up, dabbing her forehead. “We’ll need to wash your hair and probably burn your clothes.”
Mandy fought tears. She’d worked two week’s worth of extra shifts to buy this outfit. It was one of her best and it always made her feel good when her confidence was flagging. She’d miss this outfit more than she’d care to admit. She let out a loud sigh supposing it was divine retribution for dressing up in her best to be ready with her arms outstretched in case her ex was unable to say, “I do.”
“I’m sorry, Miss M,” Frankie said.
She nodded and burst into tears. How could she be so pathetic? She was being weak and needy. Why couldn’t she be that confident, independent woman everyone seemed to think she was? Everyone kept telling her she was better off without her ex and that she was so brave, but it sure didn’t feel like it. Frankie rubbed her back and asked gently, “You went to watch despite your promise to me, didn’t you?”
She nodded again, crying harder. He drew her into his arms and held her close. “Oh, Mandy.” He smoothed her hair. “Why do you do this to yourself?”
She tried to push him away, but he squeezed her even tighter. “I’ll make you stink,
” she sniffed.
“So?”
She felt a rush of emotion for her best friend and slipped from his grip, swiping at her wet cheeks. The last thing she needed to do was lead him on because she needed reassurance that she was a woman men still wanted.
Frankie handed her a towel from the shopping bag. “You can use this to cover yourself as you bathe. I’m going to zip out and get more juice. I threw an outfit in there for you to change into later.”
“I’ll replace it,” she said quickly.
He shrugged off her offer as she pulled out the outfit. “Maybe change into it after I get more juice.” He stepped to the door. “A lot more.”
“Don’t tell anyone, okay?”
He paused, his hand on the doorknob. “If anyone asks why all the juice, I’ll tell them Heart found a skunk.”
Mandy gave him a grateful smile and turned the red-soaked cloth over in her hands. “Thanks.”
He returned her smile and she felt a whoosh in her gut. He was always so good to her and half the time she felt as though she didn’t even deserve him as a friend. Sure, she was a good friend, too, but sometimes she wondered why he put up with her chasing another man when he’d made it clear over the years that he was willing to pick up where their first--and only--date had left off.
