by Violet Duke
âHi, Rob. How are you, handsome?â
âTara. Hi. Nice to see you as always.â
Blah!
âI heard through the grapevine that you finally ditched Frizzy Lizzy and youâre a free man again. Thatâs true, right?â
Elizabeth couldnât see her, but she could almost hear Taraâs incredibly high-wattage smile beaming rays of intense desire at him. She felt nauseated.
Rob, however, was probably staring lustfully back at Tara, so he didnât answer her question.
âRob, honey, why donât you come with me to the Beer-N-Brat Fest in Milwaukee this weekend? Weâd have so much fun together. Itâd be just like old times when weââ
âWhy donât you take Lance to it, Tara?â Rob said.
âLance? What does Lance have to do with anyââ
âThe guyâs crazy about you,â he replied. âHe goes insane with jealousy whenever any other man so much as looks your way. I know youâve been more casual about dating him than the other way around, but think about it. Think about the attention he pays to you. Youâre his kind of woman. You always were. Even in high school. And, unless you donât feel anything toward him at all, heâs the man who should get the honor of spending time with you now.â
Elizabeth listened to this statement without taking a breath. Wow. He pushed Tara away, too. He must really be set on heading back to Chicago soon. Tara must also have realized this because she didnât speak for a full fifteen seconds. Then she said, âBut what about you and me?â
âThereâs no you and me,â Rob said simply. âHere, have an ice cream cone on the house. And have fun in Milwaukee at the Beer-N-Brat Fest. With Lance.â
Elizabeth heard a pause and some rustling of paper napkins or other such things.
âWell, um. Bye, Rob. Good luck with everything,â Tara murmured. Footsteps clicked toward the door and the bells jangled as she left the shop.
After a lengthy moment of silence, Elizabeth heard Rob mutter, âSo long, Tara-rantula.â
In spite of herself, she almost laughed. Tara-rantula? And all this time sheâd thought Frizzy Lizzy was a bad nickname. Nothing like perspective.
Elizabeth knew she needed to get out of the shop before Rob discovered her back there, eavesdropping and guiltily holding a frozen novelty. Still, it was hard for her to creep out the backdoorâwhich she did very, very quietlyâand head toward her car after overhearing what she did. Rob didnât sound like himself. He was breaking away from everyone. Not only her, but the Wilmington Bay townspeople, too. He wasnât the gabby Gabinarri whoâd strode so confidently into the shop in June. She felt sad for him. And for herself.
Outside, she took a big bite of her ice cream sandwich. Creamy. Sweet. But not nearly as good as one of Robâs kisses. Sometimes in life you had to settle, huh? At least he was still here with her for a little while longer. At least she got to look at him and admire him and remember everything they shared together, which was helpful when her days seemed bleak.
But the thought of their lost relationship gave her knots in her stomach again and, suddenly, the dessert didnât taste so good after all. She was about to toss it in the trash when she heard a chuckle followed by a distinctive âLiebling!â
Startled, she accidentally dropped the ice cream sandwich on the ground and a curious squirrel nabbed it. âUncle Siegfried. Youâyouâre back.â
*
âROBERTO! THERE you are.â
Rob almost stopped breathing. âUncle Pauly? When did you get home?â
âJust a coupla hours ago.â He marched up to where Rob was standing at the counter and threw his hefty arms around him. âThe place looks great.â
The last time Uncle Pauly had hugged him that enthusiastically, Rob had been under five feet tall. He shot his motherâs big brother a suspicious glance. âUh, thanks. How was the trip?â
âOh, great, great. Anitaâs feeling real healthy now. She invited us back sometime soon. Maybe weâll take your Mama along with us next time. Sheâd love it.â
âIâm sure she would,â Rob said, feeling the oddest combination of emotions. If Uncle Pauly went back to Europeâand Siegfried and Mama went with himâhe and Elizabeth would have to run the shop again. Heâd be stuck returning to Wilmington Bay, which hadnât turned out to be so bad after all, and heâd get to be with Elizabeth for another few months, which had turned out to be damn terrific. Until very recently.
So maybe all they needed was a little more forced time together and thenâ¦and then what? He wasnât sure how much she really wanted a guy like him in her life, but more time to figure out the truth couldnât hurt, right?
âWhen are you thinking of doing that, Uncle Pauly? The fall, maybe?â
His uncle shrugged. âEh, I dunno. Maybe next summer. Maybe not.â
âOh.â And Rob had to face the fact that there was only one feeling he was experiencing now: Disappointment. He didnât want to wait until next summerâor whenever it was convenient for everyone elseâto be with Elizabeth again. He didnât want to leave her. Period.
âSo, Siegfried and I are going to sleep off our jetlag and then weâll take over tomorrow. You can go home to Chicago and not worry about us old men up here. You left everything in great shape, Roberto. Grazie.â
âYouâre welcome,â he said automatically, but he felt dismissed. He wasnât needed anymore. He could go. And no one would miss him.
The bells jingled.
âHi, Rob,â Elizabeth said, looking strangely pale and walking in the shadow cast by her own smiling uncle. She greeted Uncle Pauly, and Rob said hi to Siegfried. âItâs great to have them both back, isnât it?â she asked him.
âOh, yeah. Definitely.â Hell, no.
âUncle Siegfried just told me that we should close the shop early today.â She glanced at her uncle and he nodded earnestly.
âYou two have done so much work for us,â Siegfried declared. âWhy donât Pauly and I help you wrap things up for the day, then we can all relax. I know Pauly and I need some sleep. Liebling, you must have some writing business to finish up and, Rob, youâll probably want to start packing.â
Rob clenched his jaw. Everyone was trying to get rid of him. âThatâsâ¦thoughtful,â he managed.
âGreat.â Siegfried turned the sign on the door to âClosedâ and began washing the metal cookie sheets and ice cream scoops. Pauly grabbed a broom and did a quick sweep of the floor.
Rob and Elizabeth looked at each other. Their Tutti-Frutti rein was officially over but, somehow, despite weeks of anticipation and waiting for this moment to arrive, he got the distinct sense that she was feeling the same reluctance to end it as he was.
The tiny bit of hope that lived inside him, the part that remembered the ecstasy of their lovemaking and the thrill of her saying she loved him, began to grow bigger. Maybe it all just came down to believing it could be done. Maybe when a choice was made in favor of intimacy, most barriers bowed down to a superior power. Maybe he just had to really lookâ¦and to really listen to what she was saying.
He decided to take a chance and see if his theory proved true. âIâll head back to Chicago in the morning,â he told Elizabeth and watched for clues.
She shuttered her eyes and tightened her lips before nodding slowly. âI-I understand,â she said.
But she didnât.
There was a tremor in her voice that had nothing to do with stuttering, and a tiny, almost imperceptible catch in her breath. There was a rigidity in her posture that suggested she was working extra-hard to keep her shoulders from drooping.
Rob felt a couple of obstacles shattering in front of his eyes. She knew
him well enough by now to know what she was getting into with him. He was loud. He was talkative. He was into sports. He wasnât as smart as she was by a long shot.
Yet, every nerve fiber told him she didnât want him to leave. And, hey, he was catching up in the brilliance department. When given a chance and a little time to think, he could make good choices. He was going to try his damnedest to make an excellent one now.
He pulled her into the backroom, away from the prying eyes of their uncles. âAre you doing anything this Friday night?â he asked and, again, scanned her face and her body for any signs that might give away what was really going on in that whirling mind of hers.
Her forehead wrinkled. âIâ¦canât think of anything. Why?â
Total confusion on her part. Cool, ultra-reserved voice. Not exactly good, but not bad either. Heâd have to make his intentions clearer.
âIâm going to go to Chicago tomorrow, but Iâm going to come back up on Friday night.â He held her soft hands in his and looked deep into her gorgeous green eyes. âIâd like to take you out on a date.â
The eyes got significantly wider, and her luscious lips parted in surprise. But those same lips turned up at the corners, just the slightest bit, in an indication of pleasure at the news. And her fingers tightened in his palms. And when she said, âOh, okay,â her tone warmed up about forty degrees.
He grinned and kissed her hands first and then her forehead. âIâll see you then, sweetheart.â
*
ELIZABETH REVIEWED ROBâS parting line about, oh, seventeen thousand five hundred and eighty-three times between that moment and Friday.
Why did he want to leave immediately to Chicago? Why did he want to come back after only a few days? How long did he intend to stay here? What was he hoping to do on Friday nightâand did his plans also include Saturday morning? Was this a guilt visit or more of an attempt to prove to her that he valued her friendship? And, most perplexing of all, what did he mean when he called her âsweetheartâ? A term of genuine affectionâ¦or a sweet nothing?
Try as she might, she didnât know any of the answers for sure. But she intended to find out within the first fifteen minutes of his arrival.
He only made her wait five.
They were at her apartment, sitting a respectable distance apart on the sofa, when he turned to her.
âElizabeth, I have a few questions for you.â
She didnât trust herself to speak so she just nodded.
âOkay,â he said. âHere goes.â He fiddled with his wristwatch and gulped some air. He looked even more nervous than she felt, which made her anxiety rise to match it.
âJ-Just say it, Rob. Please.â If it was going to be something unpleasantâlike that this was his last visit to Wilmington Bay for a whileâshe just wanted to get it over with.
âRemember that day when we were in third grade together and you loaned me your very best pencil and we talked and talked all through the art project?â He looked up at her with bright, expectant eyes.
She smiled slightly. âYou talked and talked. I listened. But, yeah, I remember.â
âGood, because I thought you were the most wonderful creature to walk the planet that day.â He took her hands in his and they were shaking. Not her hands, but his. âI still think that.â
Okay, this was going differently than sheâd expected. Better, but way, way differently.
âUm, thanks,â she said.
âYouâre welcome.â He paused. âAll right. Let me try this again. Remember how I said that I couldnât imagine having a whole houseful of kids? That I thought this was a really strange female thing and that Tonyâs ability to procreate little Gabinarris was way beyond me?â
She remembered.
âWell, Iâve kind of changed my mind.â
Her heart did a weird little tap dance. She squinted at him. âSeriously?â
âYeah. Not a lot of them, mind you, but I could handle one or maybe even twoâ¦I think. Especially if theyâre half as sweet as their mother.â
He didnât give her even five seconds to process this before he said, âAnd you know how I was really glad to leave Wilmington Bay and live in the big city far away from my dear mama who was trying so desperately to marry me off?â
She remembered that, too.
âWell, to be honest, that part is still kind of up for grabs. So, I wanted to knowâ¦â He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper he quickly unfolded. âAre you afraid of flying?â he read from the list.
She shook her head. Sheâd done it a few times and, while not exactly her favorite pastime, she wasnât too scared.
âGood. Are you in any way opposed to leaving Wilmington Bay for a week or two every few months? Perhaps an occasional spontaneous weekend away every now and again?â
âNo, but whyââ
âSuper. Moving on then. Could you be happy being the mother of, say, only two children instead of four?â
A happy premonition she couldnât name began to spread inside her like chocolate frosting on a hot peanut-butter bar, but she kept a straight face. âWell, that all depends on who the father is, Rob. Now why are youââ
âIâm getting there. Are you uncomfortable having these children with a man whoâs not as smart as you are?â
âRob!â
âWell?â
Now her hands were trembling, too. âI would only share my body with a man I considered both very clever and extremely kindhearted. Period.â
He looked pleased with her answer. âOkay, then. Last question. Will you marry me, Elizabeth?â
âNo,â she said without hesitation and watched his expression fall. âNot Elizabeth. Itâs Lizzy to you.â She smiled her sweetest smile at him. âTry it again.â
He recovered after a few deep breaths and shot her a dangerous look. âSo, Lizzy, will you marry me?â
âOh, yes, Roberto,â she said, again without hesitation. âIâm yours forever.â
âDamn right,â he muttered, pulling her into his arms and pressing his mouth hard against hers. âAnd donât you forget it.â
âWith you,â she whispered, âI never forget anything.â
He hugged her tight. âElizabeth, I love you, and only you. Youâre the most beautiful woman Iâve ever known, and youâve had a piece of my heart ever since you were a shy five-year-old. I donât ever want to be without you.â
She looked into those warm eyes of his and saw sincerity thereâan incredible, almost inconceivable truth. And she knew if a thousand women as pretty and tenacious as Tara Welles threw themselves at him it wouldnât matter. As long as he loved her, she didnât have a thing to fear. Robâs loyalty to those he loved beat like a drum in his chest.
She kissed him back even harder. When they came up for air, she finally got to ask, âNow, whatâs all this about flying?â
âOh, Iâm planning to turn over management of the Chicago branch of The Playbook to the capable hands of Miguel who, along with his new assistantâthis Greek-American guy named Nickââ he paused to raise a cocky brow, âare taking the patrons by storm with a bunch of sticky new desserts and some spinach appetizer thing.â
She grinned. Nickâs brother Jason would be so proud.
âAnd I decided to start a second restaurant out in northern California, in a hot spot Iâd heard from a reliable source was just incredible.â
âMendocino?â she said, almost gasping out the four syllables.
âYep. Thatâs the place,â he said, making a show of feigning indifference. She wanted to kiss and strangle him at the same time. âItâ�
�ll need to be checked up on, though,â he added. âWe may need to fly out there a few weekends a month to make sure itâs running smoothlyâespecially in the beginning.â Then he gave her a serious look. âSo, do you think youâre up for it?â
âI do,â she told him. And she was.
*
ACROSS TOWN, SIEGFRIED Finklehooper and Pauly Carrera were reviewing their books at the shop.
âThey did a great job,â Pauly said, noting the increase in profits over the past two months.
Siegfried read over his shoulder. âWell, we knew they would.â
The two men looked at each other and laughed. âThose two kids have been meant for each other for twenty years,â Pauly said, patting his belly and grinning at his longtime friend and business partner. âThat European idea was inspired, Siegfried. I thought so. Anita thought so. Even Alessandra thought so. She couldnât believe weâd found a way to hook Roberto.â
âAh, well, your sister has a bright son. I know my Liebling will be very happy with him. Heâs already brought about wonderful changes in her.â
âThink theyâll be pleased with their engagement gift?â Pauly said, still grinning.
âHow could they not adore it?â Siegfried said, handing the other man a card that read: Congratulations, Rob and Elizabeth! Tutti-Frutti is yours with love⦠Your Uncles.
OTHER TITLES BY MARILYN
Double Dipping
Holiday Man
The Sweet Temptations Collection
Pride, Prejudice, and the Perfect match
The Road to You
All I Ever Wanted
According to Jane
Friday Mornings at Nine
A Summer in Europe
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
http://www.marilynbrant.com
Marilyn Brant is a USA TODAY bestselling author of contemporary women’s fiction, romantic comedy, and mystery. She was named the Author of the Year in 2013 by the Illinois Association of Teachers of English. She loves all things Jane Austen, has a passion for Sherlock Holmes, is a travel addict and a music junkie, and lives on chocolate and gelato.