by Hope Ramsay
The car lurched back, then the wheel stopped again as they loaded more passengers. The drop was getting bigger all the time. A girl could fall and get hurt. Bad.
“I know you’re tired of the gossip. But what’s done is done. Let’s… enjoy the magic of the moment.” He pulled her away from the safety bar and snuggled her right beside him, resting his arm along her shoulders. His warm hand found the skin of her upper arm.
Her pulse surged.
“You’re an engineer. You don’t believe in magic.”
“Did I ever say that?”
“You said you were a skeptic this morning.”
“Oh, that was about fortune-tellers. And you have to admit that most fortune-tellers are charlatans. Just because I’m skeptical of people like that doesn’t mean I don’t believe in magic. I’m a man who has been known to live in a fantasy world at times. And look around you, all those twinkling lights, the barkers on the midway, the smell of the sweet cakes. This is not the real world, Caroline. This is a world laden with summer magic.”
“Wow, for an engineer you have a way with words.”
“Look, darling, just for this afternoon, can’t we leave the real world aside? Ride this Ferris wheel and see what happens next?”
“I told you this morning at church that we needed to make sure nothing happened.”
“Because Miriam Randall says we’re wrong for one another?”
“No, that’s not the only reason. Getting involved with you isn’t a good idea. I have a conflict of interest.”
“Because of your father?”
“Among other things.”
“Well, we both know I’m not going to build my factory on that land George bought. So let’s dispense with that excuse, shall we?” He pulled her closer still and slanted another kiss across her lips. She didn’t stop him. She was powerless to stop him. She loved every minute of kissing him. He was amazing and warm and charming and sweet, and tasted like… Well, something so sinful it was better than a jelly-filled doughnut.
The car rocked backward, but this time it didn’t stop. She went weightless, but whether from the kiss or the ride, she didn’t know. She tilted her head back and looked up at the deep, endless blue of the afternoon sky. And started to laugh.
And Hugh laughed with her. She snuggled a little closer. Her curves fit perfectly against the hard planes of his chest. She rested her head on his shoulder.
She should let go of her worries and her plans—just for a moment. This was the Watermelon Festival. Once, a long time ago, she hadn’t worried about things like gossip or careers or land deals or economic recovery. Once, she’d just been a kid, drawn by the lights and sweet food and the thrill of it all.
She and Hugh rode the Ferris wheel five times, and by the time they finally gave it up, Caroline was light-headed and breathless from the fun and the kisses and the promise of more.
They made their way down the midway. Hugh excelled at games of skill, winning her a plush tiger that was as ugly as it was huge.
He made her eat funnel cake and a corn dog. They drank lemonade and ate peach cobbler. They spent a long time in the fun house in one of the dark corners doing something that Hugh called “snogging.”
And when dusk finally came, they headed to the dance pavilion, where she taught him how to do the boot scoot and the two-step. He was real good at two-stepping. He said it was a lot like the fox trot, which reminded her that he was a fantasy. No good ol’ boy, salt of the earth, regular Joe knew how to dance the fox trot.
By the time the band struck up a waltz, she was ready for it. He took her into his arms and moved her across the dance floor like Prince Charming.
She wanted to fall in love with him, just like Cinderella. But she wasn’t going to. She was way smarter than to fall for the twinkly lights and the midsummer magic.
He must have known what she was thinking because he stopped dancing and put his mouth over hers again, knowing good and well that she stopped thinking when he kissed her. Her whole body wanted more than these kisses. Her body felt taut with pent-up sexual need. All this kissing and not a lot of touching had left her breathless with want.
He broke the kiss and linked a string of little nips across her cheek to her ear. “We need to get out of here,” he said.
She pushed back and looked up at him. His eyes were darker than normal. His lips looked soft. His hair was a complete mess of curls. She wanted him. But she was smarter than that.
Sharon’s words came back to her. You don’t run off with some man unless you can’t live without him.
She could live without Hugh deBracy. In fact, she was very good at living without men in her life. She loved her job. She liked her life. She wasn’t looking for a fling. She wasn’t even looking for love, except in the pages of a romance novel.
He held her closer and whispered in her ear, “You want this as much as I do.” She laid her head on his shoulder.
“You do,” he insisted.
She took his hand and led him from the dance floor. She stopped to put on her shoes and pick up the big ugly tiger that he’d won for her. Then she headed toward the exit and back out onto the midway, where the food vendors and games of chance were closing up for the night.
She turned toward him. “We can’t,” she said.
“We can’t what?”
“Go to the Peach Blossom Motor Court.”
“The place that sells the rooms by the hour?”
“The very same.”
“Why not?”
“For one thing, Lillian Bray keeps a telescope trained on the parking lot at the Peach Blossom. For another, my brother patrols over there. And for a third, it would be a big mistake.”
She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his middle and resting her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating.
“I want to go there,” he said, his voice rumbling in her ear.
“I know,” she replied, letting herself get a fraction closer. “But we can’t.”
“Why ever not?”
“Because you’re you and I’m me.” She pulled back and looked him straight in the eye. “It’s a wonderful fantasy, but it’s not real. It’s just watermelon magic. You know? And tonight, because we’re both sober, we should act soberly. You know as well as I do that we would regret it in the morning.” Her voice sounded thick. It cost her dearly to say those words.
He didn’t say anything for the longest time. But his eyes, which she had once thought were cool and remote, didn’t look anything like that as he gazed down at her. “Can I take you home?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, I’ve got my brother’s truck. I’m okay.”
She didn’t want to risk any further contact with him. If she let him walk her to the truck, she might succumb to that look in his eyes. So she turned and ran away on bare feet.
Thank goodness he didn’t follow.
CHAPTER
15
Hugh’s mobile phone rang just as he was pulling the hired Mustang up the driveway to Miriam Randall’s boardinghouse. He put the car in park, set the brake, and checked the caller ID. With a call arriving at almost two in the morning, it had to be one of the aunts. He couldn’t duck either of them without causing them to worry.
And truth be told, he was halfway glad of the call. Hearing from Petunia would remind him that having a dalliance with Rocky Rhodes was something he should be trying to avoid.
He pushed the talk button. “Aunt Petunia?”
“Huey, is that you?” came the querulous voice on the end of the line.
“Petal?”
“Yes, dear. It’s me.”
“Where’s Petunia?”
“Oh, out and about, I guess. I’m not sure.”
“Why are you calling, Aunt Petal?”
There was an ominous silence on the other end of the line.
“Petal?”
“Huey, are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” he lied. “It’s just very late—or early here
in America. Aunt Petal, you see there is—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Huey, I do know the difference in time between here and there. But I got the very distinct feeling just a little while ago that you were in trouble. And of course, Aeval told me you were in some difficulty.”
“Aeval?” His voice broke. In fairy lore, Aeval was supposed to have been a fairy queen reigning in some obscure place in Ireland who held court to judge whether husbands were satisfying their wives. Petal had a four-foot concrete statue of a fairy that she insisted was the resting place of Aeval’s ghost. Not too surprisingly, when Petal had been speaking with Aeval, she had the annoying habit of getting the vicar up in arms—the vicar being a man who had probably never satisfied his wife.
Granddad had been the object of Aeval’s scorn. And given what Hugh had been up to, it was probably not a surprise that Aeval was in a snit.
Hugh felt an ominous twitch in his middle. He didn’t believe in Petal’s ghosts. But it was truly uncanny the way Petal seemed to be able to predict divorces in the village. Petal, like Miriam Randall, had a knack for making it all seem logical.
But of course, it wasn’t logical. And Petal had probably heard from Petunia that he was having difficulties. So Aeval was not really to blame for this call. Nevertheless, he humored his dotty aunt. There wasn’t much else he could do. “What exactly did Aeval tell you?” he asked.
“She told me you were about to make a terrible mistake. She says I need to stop you.”
Well, he could rest easy on that score. He’d been a gentleman this evening. He’d avoided the mistake of taking Caroline to a place called the Peach Blossom Motor Court.
“Look, Aunt Petal, I’m fine, really. I’ve behaved in a gentlemanly fashion in everything I’ve done here. You don’t need to worry about me. Now it’s almost two in the morning, and I need to get to bed.”
He was unlikely to sleep, but it was a good ruse to get the old girl off the telephone.
“Petunia told me about this woman. This heiress you’ve met,” Petal said.
“Who? Oh you mean Cissy Warren.”
“I didn’t get her name. Tell me about her.”
“She’s quite… wealthy,” he said, not able really to get much enthusiasm going for Cissy Warren when his whole body was aching for Rocky.
“Well, that’s something, I suppose. But—”
“Look, Aunt Petal, it’s very late here. And I promise you that I haven’t forgotten the family motto. I’ll do what’s expected of me. You needn’t worry about that. Tell Aeval when you next speak with her that I’ve got things under control here, and I’m likely to be back in the UK in a few days.”
“All right, Huey. I will. Good night then.”
“Good night, dear.”
He rang off the phone and then slumped forward to rest his head on the steering wheel. Petal wasn’t in touch with reality. But sometimes he got the feeling her little people were.
Caroline set the parking brake on Stone’s truck and sat in the dark for a long moment. Her heart beat in her chest. She sucked breath in and out. Nothing seemed outwardly different.
But everything had changed.
She’d been forced into the kiss-off contest, but she couldn’t say she was sorry for it. If not for that, she would have run away from Hugh and missed all that two-stepping, not to mention the snogging in the fun house.
She wanted more. But she couldn’t have it. It was insane to go chasing after a fantasy. And besides, tomorrow morning she’d be paying the piper for what happened today. She was glad she’d bypassed the Peach Blossom Motor Court.
The folks in town wanted a love story, not an erotic encounter that wasn’t going to lead to anything but gossip.
Folks in Last Chance just wanted happy endings. And to them, her happy ending would involve some local boy. They didn’t care if it was Bubba or Dash. Just so long as it was familiar and had Miriam Randall’s blessing.
She sank her head down on the steering wheel as a knot the size of a peach stone clogged her throat. Why couldn’t she have a guy like Hugh? Cinderella got Prince Charming, didn’t she? Why did she have to settle for the salt of the earth?
Caroline didn’t want an ordinary soulmate. She wanted an extraordinary one. She wanted someone who was good enough to run off with the way Sharon and Stone had.
Right now Caroline couldn’t think of anyone she had ever wanted to run off with—until tonight. She had really wanted to go someplace with Hugh.
But she had stopped herself. She’d done the right thing. But it made her feel crappy. But she had a job to do and Miriam’s ironclad predictions to guide her.
She opened the car door. It let go of a loud squeal that advertised its ancient state. It broke the quiet of the night.
Caroline tiptoed through the front door and realized that Momma was waiting up for her, just like she’d done when Caroline was a teenager.
“Hey, Momma,” she said as she closed the door behind her.
“Honey, I was all prepared to give you a deep down apology for what happened at today’s kiss-off. I mean Dash was supposed to buy up your kisses, and I’m furious at him for letting that Englishman get the better of him.”
“But?” Caroline added at the end of Momma’s speech.
“Honey, that foreigner only bought two hours of your time.”
“I know. But he was a real good kisser.”
“Oh, honey, no. He’s not for you.”
“You think I don’t know that?” The words came out wobbly, and Caroline turned and headed down the hallway toward her room. She was being so silly about this. Really. She hardly knew the guy, and kisses were not everything in life. And Cinderella was an old, worn-out myth. Really she needed to be patient and wait for her regular guy to arrive.
Momma followed her down the hall. “Honey, everyone’s talking about this. You danced every dance with him. You were… well, I’m not going to repeat the ugly things Lillian said even though Lillian thinks this Englishman walks on water. Apparently his being a lord only takes him so far.”
“Momma, I kissed him a few times, and you can argue that he bought those kisses. As for the dancing, well, he went to cotillion classes as a kid, and let’s face it, Dash is a terrible dancer.”
“So you still like Dash.”
Caroline gritted her teeth. This was not a good time to clue Momma into the whole Lasso Fiasco. “I’ve known Dash all my life,” she said.
“Good. I’m so relieved. Tomorrow you and Dash need to be seen around town together, maybe go to the demolition derby together, you know. This talk about you and the Englishman, well, I don’t think your daddy or your brothers like it much.”
“Momma, you don’t have to worry about me and the Englishman. We just danced is all.”
“All right. I’m glad we had this talk, honey.” Momma gathered Caroline into her warm embrace, filled with the scent of the lavender body lotion she always wore.
Caroline always felt safe in Momma’s arms. She loved her parents deeply. She knew good and well that having any kind of fling with the Englishman who’d come to buy up Daddy’s land was something she could never do, even if he were The One that Miriam had forecast for her.
Which he wasn’t.
Too bad her libido didn’t believe in Miriam Randall and her forecasts.
Senator Warren’s phone call awakened Caroline at eight-thirty the next morning. Early phone calls from the senator were not unusual. On any given workday, Caroline was likely to be up at five-thirty and heading to the gym. The senator often called her before breakfast.
But Caroline had gotten in really late the night before, and everyone had decided to let her sleep in.
Except her boss.
“Senator,” she said in a rusty voice after she fumbled for her phone and pressed the talk button. “What can I do for you?”
“I’ve decided to let Cissy help Lord Woolham.”
“What?” Caroline’s brain kicked into gear.
He chuckled. �
��Don’t sound so surprised. The truth is, she’s come up with an excellent plan for salvaging the situation.”
A strange, confusing emotion darted through her. She didn’t quite like the idea of Cissy being the one to help Hugh with his quest. “What plan?” she asked, her voice sounding just a little too urgent.
“Oh, she’s hooking up with Hugh for breakfast this morning, and the two of them are going to make the rounds of all the local officials. I think they were also going to visit with Cissy’s sorority friend, whatshername—Hettie Johnson?”
“Hettie Marshall.” Caroline sat up and threw her feet over the side of the bed, confusion resolving itself into serious concern. The last thing she wanted was Cissy Warren talking to Hettie.
Hettie had to be handled carefully. After all, it looked like her husband, the largest employer in the county, was up to no good. And a person like Cissy, who talked without thinking, could really upset the balance of things in Last Chance. “What time were they going to meet with her, do you know?”
“Um, no, I don’t. Is there a problem?”
“Yes, Senator, there are multiple problems here. The land Hugh bought is a wetlands, and he’s going to have to get permits to develop it, even if my father agrees to sell the golf course. And the woman he’s going to meet with is the chair of the Committee to Resurrect Golfing for God, in addition to being the wife of the man who sold Hugh the wetlands in the first place. For an inflated price, I might add.”
“I had no idea.” He sounded concerned now, too.
“Senator, this could be a real touchy situation.”
“I’m so sorry. I should have checked with you before giving her the green light, but you know how she can be. She’s got a real bee in her bonnet about this fellow. I didn’t want to discourage her. I mean he’s precisely the kind of man I’d like to see Cissy settle down with, if you know what I mean.”
“Yes. I do.” And of course, that was the difference between what Senator Warren expected of his daughter and what Caroline’s parents expected of her.
