Small Town Scandal

by Kay Lyons

  The older woman frowned and went back to what she was doing, piling a third box full of donations from the residents of The Village.

  “Rosetta, can’t you understand why I find Garret’s sudden turnaround questionable?”

  “Of course I do. But you haven’t seen him, Darcy. You don’t know how haggard he looks. He’s not sleeping, not eating much if at all. A man doesn’t behave that way over a woman he doesn’t love. He and Joss are no longer together.”

  “That has nothing to do with me.”

  “Oh, Darcy. How long are you going to punish him for being a caring man?”

  She snuggled the baby closer, unable to respond.

  “Garret loved Jocelyn in his own way, but I knew they weren’t right together. They were too comfortable, like friends, which is what they’ve turned out to be. When you came along and I saw the way he looked at you, I knew. The way he loves you—”

  “He doesn’t love me.”

  “No? I disagree. How many men would’ve given up on you already? Do you know how many people go through their lives searching for that kind of love and never find it?” She left the toy-filled boxes and garbage bags by the door and moved to sit on the couch beside her. “Think of your mother. She’s searching for it man by man and here you are throwing the real thing away. I think you’re afraid to love him.”

  “Rosetta, please.”

  “I think,” Garret’s grandmother continued determinedly, “that after watching your mother make so many mistakes and having made one yourself with the baby’s father, you’re afraid to love. You think it won’t last.”

  “It usually doesn’t.”

  “Is that why you haven’t named the baby yet?”

  “Deciding on a name isn’t easy.”

  “It isn’t. But Garret mentioned your penchant for trying out names, and after all this time, I can’t help but wonder if you’re afraid to name the baby because it’ll eliminate the distance you’re keeping between you and your daughter.”

  “That’s a horrible thing to say!”

  “Am I wrong? You claim to want roots and a family, but when the perfect opportunity comes along in Garret and the baby, you back away. If you name your daughter, you’ll feel a mother’s emotions, a mother’s love, and you’re afraid it’ll make you face all the things you still haven’t faced about your mother.”

  “I know exactly who my mother is.”

  “Yes, you do know. But have you accepted it?”

  How could anyone fully accept their mother’s not wanting them? Wouldn’t everyone want that attitude to change? Want a miracle to happen? Reality bites, Darcy. When are you ever going to break those stupid rose-colored glasses?

  “You’ve been taught what not to do, Darcy. Motherhood makes you vulnerable in ways you’ve never imagined, but it also makes you strong. It binds your hearts and there’s nothing like it, but you have to be open and want to experience it, to feel it. Are you going to let your mother rob you of loving your daughter? Rob you of a man worthy of your love and who loves you?”

  Little by little Rosetta’s words sank in. Was she letting that happen? She didn’t intend to, but was she? She could lie to Rosetta until she was blue in the face, but she couldn’t lie to herself. She was letting her fear of messing up overshadow her love, her feelings. Naming the baby…and loving Garret.

  “What if I screw it all up?”

  Rosetta smiled. “You’ll make mistakes. You’ll all make mistakes. If you let yourself love and forgive, it’ll work out exactly as it’s supposed to.”

  She stared down at her baby’s sweet little face, the knot in her stomach growing.

  “If you stop running from your past and the fear your mother instilled in you, if you face it, Darcy, you’ll see the love you feel for Garret and your daughter is returned. But to receive it, you must first believe in it yourself.”

  Darcy buried her nose into her daughter’s blankets, breathed in her baby smell. “Nana used to say something similar to that.”

  Rosetta nodded. “Because it’s true, dear.”

  “Why did Garret move out of the house?”

  “Why do you think? He wanted a place for you and the baby to come home to when you’re ready.”

  “His job?”

  “He’s been frustrated working for Harry and was more than ready to quit. And when taking such a fresh step in life, why not go all the way? I’ve heard the office space above the gallery is coming along nicely. He and Toby will make a wonderful team.”

  “How do I know it’s real? Two weeks ago Garret couldn’t decide if he wanted me or not—”

  “He knew, Darcy. But he had other responsibilities that needed to be taken care of before he could commit to you. He didn’t know how to end things with Joss. He isn’t a mean person, he didn’t want to hurt her. Oh, Darcy, think. You knew where his heart was leading him. It’s quite obvious he isn’t the type of man to be with you if he didn’t care for you, but now that he’s free, you won’t give him the time of day. Do you really think that’s a coincidence?”

  She could blame her hormones, her fears of becoming a mother, for her behavior. But the truth was she ached from missing Garret, wanted him in her life. Loved him. The way he smiled, the silly songs he sang. What was she doing?

  A knock sounded at the door. “Rosetta?”

  “That’s Toby’s mother. She’s come to pick up the donations for Jocelyn while the boys work on the office.”

  Rosetta’s words weighed on her mind. While Rosetta answered the door, Darcy carried the baby back down the hall to her bedroom. She laid the baby in the bassinet, then moved toward her dresser where the doll sat propped against the mirror. She stared down into Miss Potts’s face a long time, memories sliding over her. She’d treasured Miss Potts for so long, but why? Why keep her when she represented everything that was bad in her life? A bad childhood, lack of emotional commitment from her mother.

  Ready for a fresh start like Rosetta said, Darcy hurried down the hall to the only box left by the door and put the doll inside. Out with the past, in with the future. She wouldn’t let her fear override the gifts she’d been given. The life she had to lead if only she were brave enough.

  Back in the bedroom she sat on the edge of the bed and stared into her daughter’s beautiful face. “Gram’s right,” she whispered, using the name Rosetta insisted the baby would use. “It’s time to stop running. Time to start believing and being the person I want to be. The mommy you need me to be, not my mother’s daughter. I won’t get it right all the time, but…I’ll do my best.” She smoothed her fingertips over her daughter’s downy head. “So, before I go and tell Garret how much I love him and want him, what do you think about Elizabeth? You could go by Elizabeth or Beth, Eliza or Lizzie. Liz. You’d have a lot of options and,” she added, “it’s Gram’s middle name and she’s the best great-grandma you could ever possibly have. Do you like it?”

  “I love it.”

  Darcy gasped and turned to see Garret in the doorway, looking just as haggard as Rosetta said he did, the doll in his hand. She got to her feet, her trembling legs barely able to hold her. He wore jeans and a pullover, both loose and hanging on him.

  He lifted the doll. “Why are you getting rid of this?”

  “Because she’s part of the past and I want to concentrate on the future…with you,” she whispered. “If you still want me.”

  Raw hope crossed his face. “Sweetheart, I’ve always wanted you. That hasn’t been the problem. You love me?”

  She nodded shakily.

  “No, you’ve got to say it. I need to hear it. Do you love me?”

  “Yes.”

  Some of the tension in his face eased. “Dream about waking up beside me for the next fifty years?”

  “Yes.”

  He took a step closer, his eyes fierce. “Making love to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you believe I want you—only you—because I love you and…Spike?”

  He said that with a
grin, a heart-stopping, love-filled smile that stole the breath right out of her lungs. Garret had given up every constant in his life—his girlfriend, his job—for her. All for her and her baby girl. He’d put them first. He’d put them first. It was romantic in the movies, but it was more romantic when it really happened. More special. More…amazing.

  “Darcy?” Garret opened his arms and she flew across the room, slammed into him but knew he’d catch her, hold her. Love her. Because she finally understood what she hadn’t been able to before meeting Garret.

  “I love you, Darcy.” He buried his nose in her neck and inhaled. “Ahh, I’ve missed the way you smell. The way you feel. Not being able to see you has been killing me.”

  She swallowed, unable to believe she’d come so close to losing everything she’d ever wanted. “I know. I’ve missed you, too,” she whispered, drawing back to trail her fingertips over his mouth. “I see it now.”

  “See what?”

  Smiling through her tears, she leaned forward and kissed him, slow and deep, not breaking contact until they both breathed heavily. “I see that Nana’s always right.”

  Epilogue

  DARCY HAD NEVER GIVEN much thought to being a June bride, but she and Garret were married the second Saturday in June, five months to the day from when Garret rescued her. Rosetta was her matron of honor, Toby Garret’s best man. She and Elizabeth wore white—just to give the gossips more to talk about—at her husband’s insistence.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Garret murmured later that evening, his arms sliding around her waist and turning her so that she snuggled against him. “Darcy, you okay, sweetheart?”

  “I’m better than okay.” And even though her mother hadn’t come to the ceremony, she was still okay. Her love for Garret and Lizzie, for Garret’s family, made it okay. Because she felt like her family had all been there. Garret’s brothers and sister had flown in for the ceremony, his many aunts and uncles, cousins. So many cousins! It would take years to learn all their names.

  Garret’s fingers speared into her loose hair and he lifted her head so his mouth could close over hers.

  “Mmm.” He tasted of champagne and buttercream icing, desire and hot, sexy man.

  Garret dropped his head to her neck, scoring her skin with his teeth just hard enough to send goose bumps over her entire body. He chuckled huskily when he felt her response. “So sensitive…”

  Smiling ruefully, she reached for the buttons of his tux as she let him have his way.

  “You make me crazy.” Garret’s palms slid over her back, cupped her rump. He found her mouth again and kissed her, hard and fast and with dizzying thoroughness. By the time Garret raised his head, she stood dazed, knees weak and wobbly. He nudged her backward until she sat on the edge of the king-size bed.

  Tears stung, and she blinked rapidly.

  “Sweetheart? Did I hurt you? Why are you crying?”

  “No! I’m fine. I am. It’s just this. I’m just…” She managed a watery smile. “Oh, Garret, I’m happy,” she repeated with a laugh. “I never thought I’d have this. Ever. You. Us. This. I love you.”

  She caught her breath when she saw the sheen of tears in his eyes before he closed them and kissed her again. Kissed her as only a loving husband kisses.

  Garret and Elizabeth, her new family; they proved that fairy tales could come true…

  * * *

  DID YOU ENJOY SMALL TOWN SCANDAL? KEEP READING BELOW FOR A TEASER OF THE NEXT BOOK IN THE TAMING THE TULANES SERIES TITLED THEIR SECRET BARGAIN. ENJOY!

  * * *

  An hour later, Jenn stared in wonder at Amy Warren. The first-grade teacher danced across the Old Coyote’s small dance floor completely uninhibited and, more importantly, not drunk.

  Despite Suzanne’s inane comment about knowing it was time to stop drinking when she couldn’t feel her teeth, Jenn and all the other teachers present were very aware of small-town public appearances and how a wrong move would reflect badly on all of them.

  The school board probably wouldn’t care if their teachers got together over drinks on the last day of the school year, but all those present had ordered soft drinks or iced tea so their professional reputations would remain intact and gossip would be kept at bay.

  Which meant Amy’s dancing had nothing to do with alcohol or reputations and everything to do with a lack of inhibition. And that begged the question…Was Todd right?

  So many reservations held Jenn back. She wanted to go to Paradise Island, but she was afraid. Who wanted to go on vacation alone?

  But look at the dance floor. She wouldn’t be alone there and she wanted to dance, and yet was she dancing? No.

  Chicken.

  With good reasons. The main one being her body and the extra weight she carried. Always a chubby kid, she’d long ago learned not to draw attention to herself. Since discovering her ex’s infidelity, all she had done was eat her disgust with herself, to the tune of a whopping twenty—oh, who was she kidding? thirty—pounds. In eighteen months. On a body that was already short and already soft, thirty pounds was a lot. One wiggle and everything on her jiggled. Who wanted to look like Jell-O?

  Rolling her eyes, Jenn grabbed her empty soda glass and got to her feet, unable to pull her gaze from Amy’s movements and the smile her friend wore as she danced and sang along to “It’s Raining Men”. How did she do that? How did Amy let go and have fun, dance, despite everyone watching?

  “Need another?”

  Startled out of her thoughts, she looked up and found herself face-to-face with a drop-dead-gorgeous man. The bartender? “Um…”

  A slow grin spread across his face. A heart-stopping, toe-curling, sex-me-down smile that mushed her insides into nothing in the split second it took the smile to reach his eyes.

  As if you’d ever stand a chance with a guy like him.

  On a scale from one to ten, she was a five at best. Maybe a six on a good day, and that was being way generous. He was a fifteen. And fifteens didn’t look at sixes.

  Unless they were a size six.

  “What would you like, sweetheart?”

  Sweetheart? The waiter had called her ma’am, not that there was anything wrong with that, but it had made her feel old. And fat. Ma’ams were typically more matronly and…substantial. Weren’t they?

  The bartender wants a big tip. It’s called flirting, Jenn. Remember that? Sadly, it had been a while. “A Coke. Please. Sorry, I’m a little distracted.”

  His grin widened, as if he’d heard that one before and her face burned with embarrassment. No doubt he had rendered more than one woman speechless over the years.

  “You want rum with that?”

  She shook her head and handed over her glass, imagining she felt a tingle streaking up her arm when their fingers brushed. Yeah, right. The bartender was six-feet-plus of hard-muscled male. The tanned, outdoorsy, athletic type that put Todd’s non-muscular lean build to shame. While he got her drink, Jenn tried to picture herself out with such a guy and failed.

  She hadn’t impressed her ex-husband, and she didn’t imagine short, pudgy and studious would appeal to a man whose biceps couldn’t be contained by the sleeves of his black T-shirt. If Todd had thought her boring, she’d be nothing short of coma-inducing to a man like this.

  “There you go. A Coke, straight up. Anything else?”

  How about you? She rolled her eyes at the foolish thought. Hey, at least you’ve got good taste. He would certainly be a great way to spend the summer. Maybe he’d want to go to Paradise? “No, th-thanks. What do I owe you?”

  White teeth flashed, all the brighter paired with his sun-darkened face and uniquely beautiful silver-blue eyes. Toss in the deeply etched lines bracketing both sides of his mouth and a day’s worth of stubble on his chin and cheeks, and gorgeous was a poor description. Pure, sexual fantasy was more accurate.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll let you slide this once.” That said, he tilted his head toward the others who were with her, smiling lazily. “Y
’all look as if you’re having fun over there. Special occasion?”

  His slow Tennessee drawl sounded, oh, so sexy. Was there anything wrong with this guy? Where was the fairness in life—why couldn’t people be equally attractive? It was a question she’d like the answer to one day.

  Shaking her head at her thoughts, Jenn took in the scene. Fifteen teachers, all of them women, were out on the dance floor gyrating to the music blaring from the jukebox. Some had rhythm and some didn’t, but they were all having a blast and it showed. Why couldn’t she just close her eyes and go be a part of it? Just do it. Be wild.

  Jenn took a sip of her drink, her feet planted firmly on the well-worn wooden planks. “It’s the last-day-of-school celebration.”

  The bartender’s forehead wrinkled and he stared at the group, those stunning eyes of his becoming thoughtful. “The teacher thing. Uncle Cyrus mentioned that, but I’d forgotten about it.”

  Uncle Cyrus? She hadn’t lived in Beauty all her life like Suzanne, but she’d learned enough to know pretty much anyone who called the restaurant’s owner “uncle” was a Tulane, a member of one of the town’s founding families.

  “This is where all of the teachers reveal their master plans for summer vacation, right? You guys do this every year?”

  She nodded, amazed that he’d remember or care about such a thing. “Yeah.”

  The bartender continued to gaze at the teachers on the dance floor, the thought of something serious pulling his eyebrows low. “So where are the ones without plans?”

  She blinked. No way was she going to identify himself as the sole loser with nothing going on other than a measly graduate-level class for geeks. “Everyone plans something for summer, don’t they?”

  “I suppose. If you think of anyone who doesn’t, let me know.”

  “Why? Oh, you mean, to wait tables or something?”

  Mr. Gorgeous tapped the bar twice with his hand. “Something like that, yeah. Have fun on your teachers’ night out. Don’t get too wild.”