Hannah hooked a thumb toward the van outside. “I would, but we’ve got a booth at the strawberry festival, and I promised I’d deliver the cookies to the girls staffing it.”
Meg studied the drizzle of caramel, nodded satisfaction, switched the burner off and moved the big, cast-aluminum pot to the table behind her. “Are you sure you’re okay doing the ice cream stand with Crystal tonight? After dropping this stuff off and working at the library?”
“Positive.” Hannah’s matter-of-fact voice said it wasn’t a big deal, but Meg knew it made for a long day. “The library is only open for six hours, and it’s the last Saturday until after Labor Day, so it’s fine, Meg. And the extra money I make here over the summer makes a big difference in my finances.”
“And having Hannah help Crystal tonight means you’re free to watch baseball with the cute guy,” Alyssa added.
“Except that I planned on getting ahead for tomorrow.” Megan poured caramel into the molds carefully. The intoxicating mix of dark sugar and milk chocolate delighted her senses while her mind thought of her mother’s possible motives for extending an invitation to Danny. Karen Russo knew better. She’d witnessed Meg’s heartbreak, her embarrassment. Both times. What was she thinking?
Determined, Meg turned her attention back to the task at hand. The work she did now made up for the lack of business midwinter, and as busy as summer was for a store owner and festival vendor, Meg would have plenty of time to rest come January, February and March. Those three months could make or break a business in this climate, and while Meg might be a little soft in matters of the heart, she was tough in the ways of the business world. Covering her bottom line meant work now, play later.
“You ready, Megs? It’s six-fifteen. Game time is seven-oh-five.”
Megan turned toward Danny’s voice, scanned his worn Major League Baseball T-shirt, and shook her head as she set out fudge pans. “Working. Sorry. Enjoy yourself, though.”
Danny stepped in, eyed the cold stove and grabbed her hand. “There’s a game on, Miss Russo. Time to go.”
She frowned, wishing the feel of his fingers didn’t warm her somewhere in the vicinity of her heart. Their meshed fingers felt just right.
“Yankees versus Tampa Bay,” he urged, imploring, tugging her toward the door, his smile cute and possibly lethal. “You got my note, right? We’re watching it at your parents’ house.”
“We’re doing no such thing,” she corrected smoothly. She pulled her hand free, turned and rolled her right shoulder, trying to ease a persistent kink.
“Sore?” Danny moved behind her and pressed the flat of his hand between her shoulder blade and the center of her back.
“Ouch. Yes. Right…”
“Here.” Danny indicated the area with the flat of his hand and then kneaded the muscle below with gentle fingers. “You’ve got a knot here from using your right arm continuously.”
“I’m right-handed, thereby limiting my options.”
“Push yourself to alternate hands,” he advised, his hands working some kind of delightful magic against the taut muscle that stretched from midback to her shoulder. “Your trapezius is taking a beating on this side.”
Or she could just have him massage the fatigue away each night. The appeal of that made her step away. “Thanks. It’s fine. And how did you wrangle an invite to my parents’ house out of the blue like this?”
“It’s we, not I, and your mother took pity on me because I didn’t have cable. And you have Hannah and Crystal running the ice cream stand all evening. I know. I checked.”
“I have work to do.”
“All work and no play—”
“Says the guy who disappears at first light and stays gone all day.” He flinched a little, just enough to make Meg wonder about his purpose in town. “Rumor has it you’re secretly a federal agent, working on some big case hidden in the Appalachian foothills.”
“That comes off as way more exciting than the reality.” He jerked his head toward her side of the house. “Do you need a jacket? A sweater?”
“No, because I’m not going.”
He didn’t move, just stood silent, watching. Waiting. The warm look of gentle expectation had her rethinking every horrible thing she’d ever said about men the past four years. His eyes, calm and steady, said he’d wait her out. The tiny grin that quirked his mouth meant he had the patience to do just that. And she hadn’t hung out with Ben in days…
“All right.”
His grin deepened.
“But not because you’re pressuring me,” she scolded. She called goodbye to Hannah and Crystal, patently ignoring Hannah’s profile smile. “I haven’t had time to do anything with Ben all week.”
“And there’s nothing like a Saturday night baseball game to offer bonding opportunities,” Danny finished for her. “Exactly my point. And your father’s cooking hot dogs.”
“This just gets better and better, doesn’t it?”
She started to turn away as they rounded the corner of the house, but Danny caught her arm.
“Hey.”
She kept her gaze down, feeling trapped by the combination of Danny, her parents’ invitation, Ben’s behavior problems…
He raised her chin and met her gaze. “They’re just being friendly because I bought the fruit last week.”
“The…” She hesitated, puzzled, not expecting this turn of events. “What?”
“The fruit Ben knocked over,” Danny explained. “I bought it. John Dennehy told your mother what I’d done and when she saw me in town, she invited me. Nothing more, nothing less. No one is setting you up. Least of all your mother.”
Megan sighed. She turned her gaze away from him and focused on a spot over his shoulder, then worked her jaw and blew out a breath. “All right. I’m sorry.”
“For?”
She met his eyes, deciding they were way too gorgeous to be ignored. “Thinking it was something else. Jumping to conclusions that had no base in reality.”
“What if they have a base in reality? What then?”
“But they don’t.” She countered his words by striding forward, refusing to meet his gaze, her focus undivided. “So it’s not an issue.”
“It could be an issue. If we let it.”
The look of frustration returned, but not nearly as dark or deep. “No. It couldn’t.”
“You sure?”
“Listen, I—” She turned, peeved that he refused to drop the topic, irritated by the opportunity he offered and the fact that it tempted her at all.
His grin disarmed her. She stood stock-still on the sidewalk, looking up at him, the glint in his eye, the strength of his squared jaw, the strong set of his shoulders even in a faded Yankees T-shirt that had seen better days.
Part of her wanted to melt.
Part of her wanted to smack him for being so nice, so inviting, so comfortable with himself, his teasing words tugging her back into a game she’d been burned at twice. Where was her resolve? Her backbone? She couldn’t trust herself, her judgment, her choices, not when it came to matters of the heart. She’d proven that in front of the whole town.
Danny stepped closer, a part of him wanting nothing more than to wipe the frown from her face, erase the tiny lines of worry etched by a pair of jerks who didn’t know a good thing when they saw it, then realized he was probably no better. His plans didn’t include the happy ending girls sought, although something about Megan made that seem almost possible.
But it wasn’t. And he knew that, and still he moved forward, letting his gaze search her eyes, her face, her mouth…
A gentle brush of the lips, that was all he intended. Just a hint of her, the delightful mix of old and new that was Megan Russo, a fellow entrepreneur and candy maker, a young woman whose spirit called out to him despite all the reasons this couldn’t possibly work.
She smelled of vanilla and chocolate with a hint of toasted almond, a heady combination that drew him, a mix of familiarity and something else, something uni
quely Megan, an allure that had called to him every time he deliberately passed her door without a look, without a glance, chin down until he got to his car. And then he managed to stay gone all day, until after the ice cream window closed at nine-thirty, making himself scarce until she was safely tucked in her apartment. Out of sight.
Not out of mind.
“Danny.”
He paused the kiss, wondering if she felt the same way, wondering if simple proximity sent her heart into a danger zone the way his had done, half hoping it had, almost afraid it didn’t.
He stepped back, knowing too much, who he was and why he was there in Allegany County, looking to develop a store close enough to threaten her business.
She started to speak, but he shushed her with a gentle finger to her mouth. “One day at a time. Please.”
She shook her head, but her eyes said something different, a tiny spark of hope brightening the gold flecks. “Danny, I—”
“Don’t want to be hurt, used or embarrassed in front of the entire town again,” he filled in for her. “I get that. What I don’t get is—” he waved his free hand between them, indicating her, then himself “—this. But I can’t deny it, either, and I’ve spent most of the past week skulking in and out so I didn’t see you, couldn’t hear you and wouldn’t be tempted to stop by and make you smile. See you laugh.” He brushed a hand across her forehead, smoothing tiny wisps of curl back away from her face. “But I can’t spend the next seven weeks doing that. So either I move out and find a place that doesn’t have your smile, your cute old-fashioned dresses that make me appreciate American history in a way old Mr. Gorham never could in high school…”
Her smile deepened, the dimple on her left cheek flashing just for him.
“Or I stay in my apartment and we stop pretending that we’re not listening for one another. Or sneaking peeks out the window.”
She blushed.
He grinned.
“And since it goes both ways, I suggest we see where it leads us.”
Megan stepped back, reality urging caution. “In less than two months it’s going to take you away. Whereas I’m going to be right here, stirring chocolate, molding candies and dishing up ice cream treats for the football teams after practices.”
“Possibly. But how will we know if we don’t take a chance?”
“Well, Danny, I’ve taken chances.” Megan took a broader step away. “And I’m not so big on them right now. You’ve been in town long enough to know that I’ve been the object of discussion, and you overheard enough last week to explain why, so it’s probably best if we just maintain a nice, friendly business relationship. End of story.”
She refused to dwell on that kiss. How she got lost in the moment, totally dazzled, as if her heart and soul were there for the taking. That in itself was reason to run. She couldn’t afford any more stupid mistakes. A girl’s heart could take only so much. Right?
His expression said she hadn’t exactly convinced him. Oh, well. She’d convinced herself, and that was all she needed right now.
He took her hand.
“Danny.”
“Stop.”
She stopped. Breathed. Glanced up.
He didn’t look amused. Or teasing. He looked downright, gut-wrenchingly sincere. He glanced down to their joined hands. “This just feels right. Doesn’t it?”
The fact that it did only scared her more.
“Megan?”
She bit her lip and glanced down before bringing her gaze back up to his. “Yes?”
“Trust me.”
She winced inside, then dropped his hand. “Wrong words, Danny.” She continued walking through the village, the early evening sounds of kids at play and summer birds a wonderful combination of old-school, small-town warmth.
He followed, hands thrust in his pockets. She glanced back and saw his face, read his look and tried to smother the feeling of anticipation his expression inspired. Despite his humor, his teasing, his easygoing nature, she suspected Danny Graham generally got what he wanted, when he wanted it.
But she was off-limits.
Sure you are, an inner voice scoffed. You totally melted into that kiss. You think he couldn’t tell that?
Another glance back said she hadn’t fooled him a bit. It was there in his measured walk, his quiet appraisal, his “she’ll come back to me if I give her time” magnetism.
Megan shrugged it all off. She was beyond the magnetic phase of romance. Totally. As long as she didn’t gaze at him too much. See that smile. Meet those eyes. Remember that kiss.
But she couldn’t help remembering it, and that didn’t bode well. Not well at all.
“Danny! You came over!” Ben charged forth as soon as they turned up the paved driveway of the house, his happiness unabashed. Danny grinned back, glad that Ben was openly happy to see him, and wondering what he was thinking to corner Meg like that.
Except he’d do it again in a heartbeat if he had the chance.
But after seeing the vulnerability in her face, her eyes, he couldn’t take a chance on playing her for a fool. Not knowing the full truth about him wasn’t right. He should tell her who he was, let things fall where they may. But she might hate him. Correction: Of course she’d hate him. She was a businesswoman, right down to the toes. He admired that about her, her willingness to do whatever it took to maintain a strong business in the face of a tough economy. Few people had that stamina.
Megan did.
And he stood poised to take it all away from her because, as cute as her store was, brand names like Grandma Mary’s held them in good stead throughout the Northeast and mid-Atlantic states.
Danny swallowed a sigh and reached out a hand to Ben. “Are we ready for a win?”
“Y-yes! A-Rod is bustin’ loose and Jeter’s the—the—man!”
“You’ve got that right.”
“Danny?”
Danny reached out to shake the hand of an older man, tall, broad and in his midfifties. “Mr. Russo?”
“Adam, please. You got her to come?” Megan’s father leaned his head in Megan’s direction, a brow shifted up.
“Under duress, but, yes, although we nearly lost out to fudge preparation.”
Adam shot him a quick look. “Employing diversionary tactics, is she?”
Danny grinned. “Yes, sir.”
“And you counterattacked?”
“Played the guilt card, sir.”
“You realize that she’s surrounded herself with an invisible force field?”
“I’ve been bounced off once or twice. Obviously a slow learner, sir.”
Adam’s look of amusement softened a hair. “And you understand the shield was created out of necessity, right?”
“Duly noted. Is this where you threaten me bodily harm if I break her heart?”
Adam sent him a look that wasn’t close to amused. “She’s had enough of those. Partially her fault, but mostly not. She’s totally up front and honest. And sometimes that’s been her undoing. I’d really like someone who appreciates those qualities. A refreshing change, if you get my drift.”
Oh, Danny got it all right. And then some. Add her father to the list of people who would outright hate him when they realized who he was. What he was doing there.
“Danny! The game’s on!” Ben lumbered their way, his warm smile a welcome mat. “Mom’s got more f-food in the kitchen.”
“Well, let’s go, big guy.” He nodded to Adam. “You need help bringing those in, sir?”
Adam shook his head. “I’ve got ’em, thanks. And you’ve got a big admirer in my boy here. Ben loves having another Yankees fan around.”
“I see that. And since your sister was too frugal to put in cable before this…” He shot a glance to Meg to see if she was listening. Her rolled eyes confirmed that for him. “…I won’t have it for five more days. That’s the entire Tampa Bay series and half the Boston games.”
“Well, feel free to come by and watch them here,” Megan’s mother offered, as they e
ntered the kitchen through a back door. “Ben and Adam love a good game. The more the merrier.”
Megan shot her mother a “what are you thinking” look that Danny intercepted. He grinned at her purposely. “I love homes with open-door policies. My parents are like that, too. Everyone’s welcome. Just one big, happy family.”
Meg huffed. He smiled, knowing he shouldn’t tease her, but totally unable to resist a little fun at her expense. “So far I’m holding my own with your parents and your brother, Megs. Three out of four.” He nodded toward the big-screen TV. “In baseball terms, I’m batting seven-fifty. Pretty solid.”
She kept her gaze trained on a perfectly grilled hot dog. “If I was coaching you’d be on the first bus back to Scranton, rookie. Minor leagues, all the way. Way too predictable for big-league pitching.”
He laughed and filled his plate, an odd feeling stealing over him. A feeling of belonging. Of coming home. Which was ridiculous since he had a nice home.
Well, his parents had a nice home. He hadn’t settled into anything other than rentals in a lot of years. His own fault, he knew, but in his busy life, renting here or there became a convenience, business suites hotels becoming his home away from home.
Until now.
Here in Jamison he was caught in the fabric of small-town living, a lifestyle he thought he’d deplore as a younger man. Wrong. The peace and quiet called to him, the winding roads, wooded hills and sprawling farms. The wide ribbon of the Genesee River cut a swath through Wellsville, traveling north to Lake Ontario, a beautiful waterway fed by creeks and streams.
Meg sent him a look, curious and cautious. He knew he had to come clean about who he was, why he was here, but for the life of him he didn’t want to have this end before seeing where it could lead. Selfish?
No, he decided as he crossed the room to her, smiling. Where Meg was concerned, he didn’t think he had a selfish bone in his body.
He fit in, Meg decided midgame, when the left fielder was caught stealing second on an obviously bad call by the second-base umpire.
Danny surged to his feet alongside her father and brother, lamenting the ref’s lack of prescription eyewear in a loud voice, and when the replay confirmed their collective decision, the three men groaned in unison before discussing the use of video review until Meg was tempted to stifle them all.
Small-Town Hearts Page 7
