by Ginny Baird
David took the paperback in his hand and read the blurb before flipping it back over. For an inane little romance about a small-town librarian with the hots for the local doc, Check It Out displayed some pretty steamy artwork.
"Don't know who left it here," Caroline continued, "but it's good. I've read it. Maybe you should, too."
As David fanned through the pages, hoping for more suggestive artwork, a receipt fluttered loose and butterflied to the floor.
"Books & Bistro?" Caroline asked, snatching it off the carpet before David could even bend at the waist.
Caroline shook her head with a wry smile. "Now, I wonder who on earth this belongs to?"
Marie collapsed on the sofa and lifted the ice pack to her swollen eyes. If the puffiness didn't go down soon, she'd have to go in to work anyway. It was bad enough she'd called to say she'd be late. With Thanksgiving next week, Books & Bistro was under the gun to prepare for the pre-Christmas purchasing frenzy. And, with so many of her employees taking leave for next week's holiday, that meant that this Friday was the deadline she'd decided to go by. If she could get everything done and organized as she'd planned, then maybe even she would get a chance to enjoy some turkey and sweet potato casserole in peace.
It was draining enough for Marie to host the meal for her sisters and their husbands, plus her brothers Johnny and Mark and their significant others. Last thing she needed on top of that was work stress to face the next day.
Of course, when Marie was being honest, she didn't really mind having everyone over as much as she pretended. There was something comforting in having the flock gather and knowing she was still—in some small way—in charge of the fold. She had been the one left with the family homestead, after all. So it was up to Marie, as the eldest, to uphold family tradition.
The only part of the tradition she didn't savor was her brothers' good-natured ribbing about her single status. She was sure to get an earful this year, now that Cecil had blown right out of her life like an autumn leaf caught up in a gale.
High winds pounded her front door screen and sent it rattling in its frame. The gustiness of central Virginia's fall was upon them, and it'd soon be time to bring in the porch swing, lest it get carried off somewhere far over the mountain one night while she was sleeping. The weatherman had predicted snow on the heels of the frigid front that was blowing in from Canada. Just as long as it held off until Friday, Marie thought, it could snow all it wanted. Wasn't often they got a white Christmas in these parts, and white Thanksgivings were rarer still. Snow here in November would be the talk of the town, and that would suit her just fine. One less reason for her brothers to focus on talking turkey about the obvious lack of a man in her life.
David ordered a decaffeinated coffee and carried his book to the high bar running the length of the long glass wall that separated Books & Bistro's interior cafe from the wrought-iron tables on the sidewalk outside.
Not a soul was out there. It was no wonder, David thought, as the wind gusted and blew two metal chairs to the ground.
The cold was coming, and David was glad. He was a winter sports fan, and because he had grown up in Asheville, quite an accomplished skier. There was something about a mountain lodge with a roaring fireplace after a long day on the slopes. Of course, it helped if you had someone to share it with. And, this time, he wasn't thinking about Bitsy, the chair lift attendant.
David sighed and cracked open the book. He was curious to see why Marie had been so upset about leaving it behind. Doubly interested because the style of the cover looked strikingly similar to the book he'd caught her reading over coffee just last week. Maybe Cecil had recommended the wrong approach. In fact, maybe Marie got enough of intellectual literature and grim best-sellers working here. She probably read books like this to relax. Nothing wrong with that.
David dove right into the prologue, his eyebrows shooting skyward.
Holy cow, he thought, marking his place and pausing to remove his pullover sweater. He had a feeling he'd be able to get into this.
Marie was just dropping her keys into her purse and stepping up onto the curb at Books & Bistro, when she came to an abrupt halt. Her eyes had to be playing tricks on her.
She removed her glasses and wiped them on her coat lapel before putting them back on again.
Oh, my. She just stood there, her feet rooted to the ground, her cheeks turning pink from the icy air.
There at the counter of the cafe sat David Lake in all his glory, reading... reading... her book!
Marie blinked twice as David lowered his hand to the counter, nabbed a paper napkin, then wadded it up against his brow.
He was so engrossed in the book he didn't even see her walk in, and right up to the stool where he sat.
"Were you planning on reading it first, and then giving it back?"
David raised his eyes, then nearly fell off the stool.
"Hey! Whoa—Marie!" he said, standing and slamming shut the book. "What a surprise!"
"A surprise, David? I work here." She looked him up and down, trying not to remember how good he'd felt pressed up against her. "What's your excuse?"
"I, ah, was returning your book," he said, thrusting Check It Out in her direction.
"It looks used," she said, taking the book but keeping her eyes on his.
David racked his brain, trying to recall the very careful plan he'd concocted on the way over here, but his mind swirled with visions of adventuresome librarian Judith Just enjoying her first complete examination by the probing Dr. Robert Right.
"Well?" Marie asked, tapping one beautiful foot on the floor. He studied that beautiful foot and her delicate ankle, and then his gaze moved up that long sweep of leg—which went on and on and didn't stop until it hit that hint of hemline just above her knees.
"I... uh." David cleared his throat.
"I think you already said that."
"Yes, well..."
He choked on air as she unbuttoned her coat. He noticed she was wearing another one of those sweater dresses that showed off her curves so well.
"I was waiting." David clenched his fists and dug his fingernails into his palms. "Waiting for you to get here."
He smiled through gritted teeth, and looked for all the world like a naughty boy who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"Well, here I am," she said, unable to keep her gaze off the warm gleam in his eyes, the broad musculature of his chest... the snug fit of his faded denim jeans.
"Well, there you are," he said, motioning to the book he'd already placed in her hands.
He shuffled his feet and glanced out the window. "I hope you're not still mad about last night. Because if you are—"
"David," she stopped him. "It wasn't you, necessarily."
He inhaled deeply and his chest swelled, the taut muscles rippling beneath cotton.
Marie blinked and continued. "I mean, in some ways it was. But look," she said, trying hard not to. Why, oh why, did her eyes keep roving over him? "What I mean is, there's been so much going on in my life, and if you can't be honest with me—"
"Honest?" He folded his arms in front of his broad chest and knitted his brow. "Just what is it you think I've done to deceive you?"
"You tell me," she said, clutching her book to her bodice.
David looked positively stupefied.
"Does this have something to do with Publishers Weekly?"
She stood motionless, a hard look in her eyes beneath those charmingly tilted frames.
"Well, look, Marie," he said, giving a little laugh. "If that's all it is, I can explain. Not that I really understand why a simple little magazine would cause such a reaction..."
"It's just that it all started when Cecil—"
"Cecil?!"
"Sure, yes. Cecil, you know—"
"I know damn well who Cecil is, but I thought you said you didn't."
"Didn't I? I mean, no, I don't. Just a little—"
"Are you and Cecil in this together somehow?" she
asked, eyebrows arching.
"Together? Wait. Whoa. I don't think you're getting-"
"Oh, I'm getting everything just fine. I might not be from your sophisticated background, David. But I didn't just fall off the turnip truck. You and Cecil devised some kind of plan, didn't you?"
Plan? Holy cow, what was happening here? This whole thing was spinning way out of control. He'd never seen her so furious.
"You hit on me, get me out of the way, so he can run off to New York with Diane."
"Diane? No—"
"Good job, David. Bravo," she said, a cold dismissal in her eyes."What with your talent, maybe you should join Cecil in New York. Hear they're in need of actors there."
"Marie, please."
She turned, and he placed a hand on her shoulder.
She looked back and narrowed her flaming eyes. "You lay one more hand on me, David Lake, I'll call security. Now, I've got a life to lead," she said, striding away. "I'm sure you've got one waiting for your somewhere, too."
Chapter Eleven
Mark looked over his shoulder and called back into the house. "Hey, Marie! There's some turkey with a bird on your doorstep!" She didn't answer.
"Just kidding, pal," Mark said, giving David a slap on the arm. "Come on in."
"Oh!" Meg, John's fiancée, rushed over. "You must be the guy! Marie told us last month she was getting married, but we all knew—-just knew—it couldn't be to that old boring Cecil!"
Despite her willowy frame, Meg looked pixie-like with her bridge of freckles and short red hair. "Johnny," she called, leaning back into the living room. "Oh, John-boy, come here!"
A tall, muscular man with jet-black hair appeared from around the corner, his dark eyes widening with surprise. "Well, hey there! You must be David."
"How did you know his name?" Meg questioned, swatting her fiancé on the rump.
"Talked to him on the phone."
David shifted the heavy turkey pan uncomfortably in his hands.
"Here, let me take that." A pretty ponytailed blonde with apple-dumpling cheeks appeared and lifted the roasting pan out of David's hands. "Honey," she said, talking to the lanky fellow behind her, "this is David, Marie's fiancé."
"No, wait!" David held out his hand.
But a dark-haired woman about an inch shorter than Marie walked over and used the opportunity to slip off one arm of his coat. "Your true love's here," she sang back into the kitchen in a lilting voice, before yanking the other arm free, then carrying his coat to the closet.
"What in the world is all the..." Marie strode into the front hall and froze, as an extremely tall brown-haired guy materialized at her back.
"You must be Jack. Jack Wagner," David said, stepping around Marie and stretching his hand out toward Teresa's husband. "Carolina basketball, right? ACC Championship year."
Jack gave a modest grin and nodded his big, square jaw.
David knew he'd recognized the face.
"Would somebody—anybody—mind tell me what's going on here? And just who let him in?" Marie shouted, as a flushed David turned to face her.
Mark quietly backed away, as the others appeared to decide whether or not they wanted to be discreet, or stay and watch the action.
"Well, I think," Meg said, tugging on Johnny's arm, "that we should all go and see what's cooking in the kitchen, and leave these two lovebirds alone."
"Good plan, sweetie," Johnny said, leaning over and planting an affectionate kiss on her cheek. "Especially since," he whispered in her ear, but not quite softly enough, "I'm the one who asked him to bring the turkey!"
Marie gave her brother an accusatory glare, but he just took Meg's arm and ignored her as he exited the room.
"Wow," David said, bringing his hands together in a clap, "what a great family you have."
Marie blinked behind her perfectly straight frames. "All right David, the truth. Just what are you doing here, and just how did you finagle a dinner invitation from my unsuspecting little brother?"
She looked so beautiful standing there, wonderfully domestic with flour dusting her bright red cheeks, her sensuous curves hugged ever so tightly by a full-length, green print apron. Those mesmerizing brown eyes and spectacular lashes flashing behind... wait!
"You got them fixed!" David blurted out. The surprise waned to disappointment when he realized that meant she'd taken them to someone else.
"Don't look so crestfallen," Marie said with a little shake of her head. "Though you may not be my type where romance is concerned, I didn't toss you over for another optician."
David instinctively stepped one inch closer, but she inched back.
"Caroline replaced the frames for me. No charge."
"Caroline?" David asked, startled. "But she didn't say a word." And, blast it all, she knew first-hand all the agony David had gone through since last week when Marie had shut him out of her life.
"Of course not," Marie huffed. "Caroline apparently has a deeper sense of loyalty than my traitor brother!"
Johnny, who had stuck his head into the foyer and was about to come get something, suddenly changed his mind and disappeared down the back hall.
"Oh, don't be too hard on Johnny. He just happened to pick up the land line. And, after all the times you'd slammed it down in my ear—"
"Now, don't you go defending my brother!" Marie said, taking one big step in his direction.
"No, I wouldn't dream—"
"And don't," she said, coming closer and thumping him on the chest, "go sharing your dreams—or fantasies, as they may be—about us being engaged with my family!"
David looked into her eyes, all fire and ice, and swore he felt his adam's apple melt.
"I didn't," he squeaked, then cleared his throat.
"So, is this the way it's going to be, then?" she asked, stepping up to him so her hairline was level with his shoulders. "More dyed-in-the-wool, bald-faced lies?"
She tilted her chin upward, set both hands on his shoulders, and gave him a rude push backwards. "Get out of my house!"
"Now, Marie," her sister Jill burst in. "Is that any way to treat the man you've pledged yourself to for eternity?"
Marie gritted her teeth and made some kind of snarling sound David couldn't identify. "For the last time—"
Jill laid a soothing hand on David's arm and a peace-making arm around Marie's shoulder. "Come on now, kids," she said, forcing a brilliant smile. "It's Thanksgiving. Let's all try being a little grateful for what we've got, huh?" She gave Marie a light squeeze, patted David affectionately, then walked into the arms of Dan, who'd been watching from the sidelines.
"Hello!" Marie screamed. "Hello, I know you're out there!"
David watched in amazement as heads popped out from around door frames and the rest of her siblings emerged from their hiding places with guilty looks.
"Really, guys," Marie scolded, "I thought you all had outgrown that nonsense by the time I was seventeen."
"Not quite," Mark said with a grin. "And, boy, did we see some good stuff! What was that fellow's name? Big guy you took to the prom?"
To Marie's relief, Johnny walked over and popped Mark on the head with a rolled-up newspaper. Just like Mark to make trouble. It was the first Thanksgiving in years that he hadn't brought home a girl, and his boredom was showing already.
"Soup's on!" Meg called, approaching from the kitchen. David had thought one was missing when he'd counted eavesdropping heads. No, two. David looked around. Where was Jack?
As if in answer to the question, Jack came out of the dining room. "Where shall we seat our guest?" he asked tactfully.
It annoyed Marie no end that she apparently had no say in whether or not David was staying for dinner, even though she was hosting it.
Not only that, but then everybody squabbled over where he would sit. Jack wanted to talk basketball, while Teresa wanted a detailed story about how Marie and David met. Mark wanted to discuss all the best ski resorts. Meg had grown up in North Carolina, and Johnny, the surgeon, was s
uddenly eager to hear all about some new lens-making procedure from David.
Marie sighed and cleared the salad plates, relieved that David had been seated at the opposite end of the table, but still not entirely sure she liked him occupying her father's chair. She walked to the kitchen, as a round of laughter exploded at her back, and the thought occurred to her that she might as well not be here at all.
She deposited the plates in the sink, then felt the rush of revelation. Of course! It was so obvious, she hadn't even seen it. As much as she loathed him being here, as desperately as she'd been trying not to meet his gaze, David was actually rescuing her.
For once in the past eight years, Marie was going to be able to enjoy a Thanksgiving dinner in peace. No probing questions, no ribbing. Done. It was settled. She was engaged! And now the spotlight was on David, not her.
Marie released a deep breath and let go of a lot of tension with it. If David was happy to play along, as he seemed content to do, then why not her? Get through this annual holiday. Get back to work, then move on. All she needed was a little more cooperation from David, and then after a couple more weeks she'd tell her siblings the engagement was off. With her track record, they'd certainly believe that.
Marie squared her shoulders and walked to the swinging door that led to the dining room. "Oh, David," she said, peeping through the door, her voice all sugar-sweetness. "Honey, could you come in here and help me with the turkey?"
"Carve it, you mean?" he asked, feeling his blood rush to his feet. David knew what that would require: long, sharp knives—or at least one. And one was all it would take, with a woman as riled as Marie. She'd hardly spoken to him all evening. Had barely turned her eyes upon his. And, when she had, he'd seen nothing more there than utter disregard.
David excused himself from the table and walked toward the kitchen, believing, at least, there was safety in numbers. Her whole family seemed to like him. And, boy, what a nice bunch they were. His family's dinners in Ashville had never been like this. No, instead of warm exchanges and laughter, they'd been filled with financial figures and boredom. He and his sister Debbie had never gotten a word in edgewise, and were always dismissed the moment they had finished their dinners.
