In Deep

by Brenda Rothert

  I opened my mouth to reply, about to lose my cool, when another voice intervened.

  “April, looks like you’ve met our esteemed mayor.” It was Miss Dee Dee, dressed all in black as usual, her gray curls askew. “Pay no attention to him, he’s just an old grouch.”

  The mayor’s upper lip twitched up as he glared at Miss Dee, but he said nothing.

  “Paul, you’ll excuse us, of course,” Miss Dee Dee said, pulling out the chair on the other side of my table and lowering herself into it slowly.

  And just like that, the mayor walked away. I gave Miss Dee Dee a grateful look.

  “He’s just an ornery old fool,” she said, leaning her cane against the table. “Someone needs to run against him for mayor.”

  “They’d have my support,” I muttered.

  “So.” She surveyed my face. “You okay?”

  I nodded.

  “Good. And what’s this I hear about Mason Lockhart running home as soon as he heard?”

  “Boy, news travels fast around here,” I said, shrugging. “The truth is I certainly can’t figure the man out.”

  “Well, you can’t go wrong with any of the Lockhart boys.”

  I sighed, thinking as Margie poured Miss Dee Dee’s coffee and made small talk with her. I hadn’t talked to anyone about this, not even Ivy, and something made me decide to tell my story to my cranky dance teacher.

  “Here’s the thing,” I said, leaning my elbows on the edge of the table. “I overheard a conversation between him and Reed the day I moved here, but he doesn’t know it. He called me mousy and said I looked like a librarian.”

  Miss Dee Dee’s blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “And?”

  “He said I was mousy,” I repeated.

  Miss Dee Dee snorted with amusement. “The girl who took a punch to the face for someone else? And just dressed down Paul Norton? Mason Lockhart was wrong. He obviously didn’t know what he was talking about.”

  “Damn right, he’s wrong,” I said firmly. “I may not be a beauty queen, but I’m nothing if not strong. And loyal. And . . . not mousy.”

  “So show him.” She arched her brows, her expression asking me how I couldn’t see how simple the solution was.

  “Why should I do some song and dance to prove I’m worth a second look from him?” I said, my tone a little snarl-ish. “I’m ambivalent about him.”

  Miss Dee Dee cocked her head to the side and gave me a skeptical look. “Sweetie, there is nothing ambivalent about the way you look at him. Or the way you react at the mention of his name.”

  I glared, wishing I could scoff and wave off her words. But she was right. When it came to Mason, I was definitely not ambivalent.

  “You’re a very lovely girl, April. Don’t underestimate yourself. Make that man chase you down and beg forgiveness for his first assessment of you. Personally, I find nothing more enjoyable than proving a man wrong.”

  Her lips curved into a knowing smile.

  “I suppose . . . I can see your point,” I said.

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Don’t let your foolish pride get in the way of something great.”

  Her words carried the sadness of personal experience. I realized that beneath the deep wrinkles, the heavyset silhouette and the wild gray curls I’d seen at first glance of Miss Dee Dee, there was much, much more. She was a woman who had chosen adventure and passion. And she was wise and kindhearted.

  I’d misjudged Miss Dee Dee. With a twinge of shame, I realized that was the very thing I was still holding against Mason. He’d misjudged me. And I’d definitely not seen anything in him at first but a man who lived a charmed life and traded on his good looks.

  But he was more than that.

  “I’ve been a real ass,” I said, realizing it for the first time.

  Miss Dee Dee pointed at me. “Don’t you dare say that to him. Make him grovel. And then, let him take you to bed and make it all up to you.”

  My cheeks warmed at just the thought. Miss Dee Dee laughed, her eyes shining with amusement.

  “Oh, April. Enjoy him. They don’t make many men like those Lockhart boys. If I was still young and beautiful, I’d have one of them in my bed.”

  “I believe it.”

  Margie delivered our food and we ate, talked and drank another cup of coffee. Miss Dee Dee was perceptive and sharp. She was a good listener. I found I was sorry when she finally reached for her cane, ready to leave.

  “I’ve got a class starting in ten minutes,” she said.

  She was obviously struggling to get out of the chair, her size keeping her down. I wanted to offer my help, but I remembered what Ivy said about Miss Dee Dee not wanting help unless she asked for it.

  When she stood, she cringed when her weight settled on one leg and she used her cane to shift herself into a more comfortable position.

  “This one’s mine,” she said, swiping both checks from our table.

  “Oh,” I said, surprised. “Thank you. I get the next one, then.”

  She nodded and turned toward the register, not even saying goodbye. But that was her way.

  It had been a crazy twelve hours. I’d been beaten up, slept next to Mason after he shared intimate secrets with me and was rescued from the backwards mayor by Miss Dee Dee of all people, who I was actually eager to see again.

  My new life in Lovely was definitely keeping me on my toes.

  I’D JUST PULLED IN the Grieves House driveway when my new phone buzzed with a text. Reed and Ivy had bought me an iPhone to replace the one Colton crushed.

  Reed: Can you stop by our insurance agent’s office and give him your account of what happened to you yesterday? His name is Dan Sanders—his office is downtown. He said you can drop by anytime today.

  I wrote back to say that I’d go right now. It would give me a little more time away from Mason, which I needed.

  I backed out of the driveway and headed back downtown, which was only a five-minute drive. Dan Sanders’s office was in a neat brick building and he had a white-haired secretary at the front desk.

  “You must be April,” she said, giving me a sympathetic look. “He really did a number on you, didn’t he? Have the police found him yet?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Dan’s office is at the end of the hall. It’s open, you can go right in.”

  I thanked her and walked to Dan’s office, knocking lightly on the doorframe since the door was open.

  “Come on in,” he called in a friendly tone, sucking in a breath when he saw me. “You must be April.”

  I gave him a weak smile.

  “Does it hurt as much as it looks like it does?”

  I shook my head. “It doesn’t hurt much unless I accidentally touch one of the bruises.”

  “Well, I’ll make this as quick and easy as I can,” he said. “Can I get you some coffee?”

  “I’m alright, thanks.”

  He seemed like a pleasant guy, smiling as he asked me questions about the incident and entered the answers on his computer. His thick dark blond hair was a little tousled and he had laugh lines at the corners of his gray-blue eyes. I guessed he was in his forties. There were pictures on his desk of him with a kids’ baseball team, with him grinning like a proud parent and coach.

  Everything in his office was in its place. Even his desk was an immaculate, polished wood surface with only one stack of papers on it. That was not what my desk had looked like when I was teaching.

  “Okay,” he said, turning away from his computer screen to look at me. “All finished. I’m sure sorry that that happened to you, April. If you feel you need further medical treatment, it’ll be covered under the insurance the Lockharts carry, just like last night’s trip to the hospital.”

  “Thanks.” I stood and picked up my purse. “I think I’ll be fine, but that’s good to know.”

  “I assume you’re pressing charges?

  “Yes. The police are looking for him.”

  “That’s good. And . . . uh,�
� he said, standing up. “I don’t suppose you’re free for dinner this weekend?”

  “Me? Dinner?”

  “I understand if you’re busy. Short notice and all.” He looked at me hopefully.

  Dan seemed like a really nice guy. And when was the last time I’d been out on a date? Wow. Best not to think about the answer to that question.

  Also, what better way for Mason to see that not all men thought I belonged behind a reference desk?

  “Sure,” I said. “That would be nice. I don’t know many people in Lovely yet, so thanks for the invitation.”

  “Great,” he said, grinning. “Pick you up Friday at six at Grieves House?”

  “See you then.”

  I furrowed my brow as I left Dan’s office and walked out to my car. I had a date. Yet another unexpected turn of events.

  GRIEVES HOUSE WAS TOO quiet. The girls had all gone to school and April still wasn’t back. I was trying to work on my laptop at the kitchen table, but I was distracted.

  That sweet, soft flowery smell of April’s bed linens—that was nice. So was the way her dark curls had looked against the light-colored bed sheets this morning. And feeling her warmth next to me . . . that was more than nice.

  As I replayed waking up next to her, I remembered her swollen, bruised eye and a white-hot knot of anger formed in my stomach.

  Part of me hoped the cops didn’t find Colton before he came back here again to see Taylor, because I wanted the first go at him. But I hated knowing he was out there somewhere and April wasn’t here with me.

  How long did it take to get breakfast and mail some damn letters? I checked my phone for the third time in the past five minutes. Maybe I’d text her, just to be sure she was okay.

  I was about to do it when the door opened. Footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor and then April came into the kitchen.

  My body relaxed with relief.

  “Hey,” I said in greeting.

  “Hi.” She gave me a puzzled look before crossing the kitchen to start unloading clean dishes from the dishwasher.

  “I’m staying here for a while,” I said. “To watch out for you guys in case Colton comes back.”

  “Oh.”

  “Is that okay?”

  She smiled. “Of course, Mason. It’s really sweet of you.”

  I closed my laptop, got up and walked over to her. “Let’s go up to the ballroom and dance.”

  “You want to dance? Right now?”

  “Yep.”

  I took her hand and tugged her away from the dishwasher. We were both silent as I led her up the two flights of stairs that took us to the ornate ballroom on the third floor.

  “It’s a little drafty,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself.

  I scrolled to a playlist on my phone and turned up ‘Fever’ by Michael Buble. I set the phone on an armchair that was one of the few pieces of furniture in the room and went to April, wrapping a hand around her hip and pulling her close. I planned to make sure she was anything but cold.

  A smile played on her lips as we waltzed around the large wood dance floor.

  “Can you imagine the parties that were held here?” she said.

  “We should host one.”

  Her eyes widened with surprise. “You think?”

  “Yeah. An old-fashioned ball. We could sell tickets and donate the money to the hospital foundation. My mom could fill this place.”

  Her hazel eyes sparkled. “That would be so much fun for the girls. We could make all the food.”

  I couldn’t stop admiring her, hardly even noticing her injuries now. Her dark curls flew out behind her when she turned and her cheeks were pink with excitement.

  “We can use the dance cards they used to have back in the day,” I said. “And I’ll sign my name to every line of yours.”

  Her hand squeezed my shoulder just a little and I pulled her so close I could feel the warmth of her chest next to mine.

  “You’d want to dance with me all night?” she asked, looking up at me with so much tenderness and vulnerability in her expression that I ached for her.

  “All night,” I said softly. “I wouldn’t notice any other women with you in the room anyway.”

  The song ended and we slowed to a stop. I wrapped my arms around her waist, barely suppressing a groan as I felt her soft curves pressing against me.

  She ran her hand from my shoulder to the back of my neck, her fingertips grazing over my skin. I had to kiss her. There was too much magic in this moment not to.

  And then April surprised the hell out of me when she slid her other hand to the back of my neck, got on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against mine.

  I couldn’t keep my groan in this time. Her lips were as soft and sweet as I’d known they would be, and her boldness had my cock hard and trapped against the fly of my jeans.

  The tip of her tongue grazed mine and I locked my arms around her. I wanted to bring her closer, kiss her deeper, hold her tighter.

  I was considering taking her right on the ballroom floor when she pulled away, panting.

  “I shouldn’t have done that.” She shook her head and looked down.

  “Of course you should have,” I said, tipping her chin up and forcing her to meet my gaze. “I’ve been dying to do it myself but I wasn’t sure you wanted me to.”

  “I do, and I don’t, and then I do again.” She wrinkled her face in confusion. “I mean, yes, you’re beyond sexy. But we’re so different.”

  “I like you, April. A lot. Why do you think I told you all that stuff last night? That was a big deal for me.”

  “I’m glad you told me. And I like you, too, but . . . this is just not me.”

  “What’s not you?” I tightened my hold on her hips and she let out a breathy sigh.

  “Going out with one guy and kissing another.”

  My pulse pounded and blood whooshed through my ears. “What the hell are you saying, April? Going out with what guy?”

  I TILTED MY HEAD up to meet Mason’s dark gaze.

  “I have a date.”

  His face wrinkled with distaste. “With who?”

  “It’s whom.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Who is it, April?”

  “None of your business.”

  He gave me a murderous glare. “The hell it’s not. I moved into this house to protect you. And you don’t think you should tell me where you’re going, and with fucking whom?”

  “Dan Sanders, okay?”

  “Danny Sanders!” he roared. “No fucking way. He slept with one of his secretaries when he was still married. He looks like a Ken doll!” Mason’s eyes narrowed and he lowered his voice. “He collects stamps, for fuck’s sake.”

  My anger took control. “Then he sounds perfect for a mousy librarian like me.”

  Mason drew back. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  I crossed my arms and tapped my foot. “You know what it means.”

  “If I knew,” he said hotly, leaning down toward me, “why the hell would I ask?”

  “You said it yourself,” I reminded him. “The day you were helping Reed move my stuff in.”

  He closed his eyes and sighed softly. “So that’s it? Your hostility toward me has been about a passing comment I made before we’d even spoken?”

  “Why does it matter if we’d spoken? Do you think that makes it hurt any less? You told me a lot about yourself with that comment, Mason.”

  He shook his head slowly, his expression contrite. “I’m sorry, April. I didn’t mean anything by it. Me and my brothers, we talk a lot of shit.”

  “There’s truth in it,” I admitted. “That’s why it hurt so much. I’m not remotely sexy or adventurous. I mean . . . I read and bake for fun. I’m boring. But I happen to like me, and so does Dan Sanders.”

  “You’re not boring. What I said was just fucking stupid. I’m a stupid asshole sometimes, don’t you know that by now? Haven’t I shown you that I . . . that I don’t . . .” He ran a han
d through his hair and groaned with frustration. “You’re way too good for Danny Sanders. Call him and cancel.”

  “No,” I said softly, my fight gone. “I want to go. And . . . never mind, you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  “I can’t snap my fingers and attract the opposite sex like you. It feels nice to have a man chasing after me. I’m not used to it. So just . . . don’t tear it down, okay? Don’t tell me that the only man chasing me is a big loser.”

  I swallowed, holding back the tears tightening my throat.

  Mason closed his eyes and took a deep breath, obviously trying to get a grip on his anger.

  “I’m just saying you’re too good for him,” he said. “He’s a cheater, April.”

  “We’re not getting married, we’re just having dinner.”

  Mason took a step closer to me, wrapping his hands around my hips again. “You should be having dinner with me.”

  My chest rose and fell as I tried to get my breathing under control. Mason unwound me like no one ever had. But after what he’d told me just last night, I knew the feeling wasn’t mutual.

  “What is it you want from me?” I asked, desperately hoping he’d prove me wrong.

  “Just . . . to be here with you. To protect you and . . . I don’t know, see what else happens.”

  My shoulders dropped from the disappointment that was weighing me down.

  “I’m sorry, Mason. I’m looking for something more than that.”

  His hands dropped away from my hips and I walked to the stairs, gripping the rail as I descended, my vision blurred by tears.

  Mason could bring me up so high it left me reeling. But this was the flip side—a low that made me want to crawl into bed and cry until there weren’t any tears left.

  ALONE ON THE COUCH at Grieves House, I couldn’t force away the images crowding my head. Dan Sanders grabbing April’s ass. Her grabbing his neck the way she’d grabbed mine, and kissing him instead of me. Him taking her clothes off and admiring her body. Her riding him, her dark curls spilling down her back.

  I checked the clock and she’d been gone an hour and fifty minutes. Could they be in bed at his place? I’d certainly gotten women into bed by this point in a date.