by Angela Evans
Amelia shrugged and handed Leslie a new piping bag. “Yes, Mom. Now back to the hunky bodyguard!”
“Michael is coming back on Wednesday. Three days.”
“But who’s counting?” Amelia laughed.
Leslie groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“Can I give you some advice?”
“As an old married lady?” Leslie teased.
“As someone who has been there,” Amelia said.
“Please.” Leslie plopped down on a stool near their workspace and waited for her friend’s advice, hoping it would tell her what she was supposed to do.
“Don’t overthink it. Don’t try to put a label on everything and put it in a neat, tidy box.”
“Is that what I’m doing?” Leslie asked.
“I think so. You like everything to make sense, and love doesn’t make sense.”
Leslie gasped. “Love?”
Amelia smiled. “That’s what we’re talking about, right? I mean, I’ve known you for a while now, and I’ve never seen you look or act like this. Your phone rings and you practically float across the shop to get to it. You have a permanent smile. You look like the picture of a woman falling in love.”
Leslie couldn’t breathe. Love was not supposed to be happening here. Love was what had led to her life falling apart and her world splitting into pieces.
“Stop that.” Amelia put a hand on her shoulder and brought her out of her panic. “Michael is not Daniel. Now, granted, I didn’t know the man and I don’t want to speak poorly of someone I don’t know, but what I’ve heard is enough for me to know that you deserved better.”
“I don’t know,” Leslie mumbled.
“Well, I do. You’re a great mom to those boys, a great friend to me, and I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you’re smoking hot.” Amelia grinned and chucked Leslie on the chin to lighten the mood.
Leslie laughed. “You’re the second person to tell me that in the last month.”
“If the first one was Michael Duncan, then I think I’ve made my point. That guy is one of the good ones, and I thought I’d gotten the last of those to be found.”
Amelia went to answer the telephone in the next room, leaving Leslie alone with her thoughts. Michael was a good man. He was nothing at all like Daniel. And to that point, Leslie was nothing like the woman who had married Daniel. She’d grown up. It was Daniel who had been wanting in that area.
She had no doubt she could trust Michael in any situation. She’d all but thrown herself at him and he’d put the brakes on in favor of waiting for the right time. She’d told him her darkest secret and he’d told her that it wasn’t her fault. She’d trusted him to find her missing child and he’d done that and more. He was solid and steady and put her needs before anything else. He was everything she’d ever dreamed could be out there for her, and now here he was and she was terrified.
Her phone on her desk chirped, and her heartbeat ramped up a notch. She’d given Michael’s texts a special ring tone so she always knew when it was him. This message was simple and had her smiling from ear to ear.
“Thinking of you. I’m catching an earlier flight. Be ready.”
No hearts or flowers had ever made her feel so giddy with excitement.
“I take it that was Romeo?” Amelia joked.
When Leslie looked over, Amelia was grimacing and Leslie was concerned she was overdoing things. “It was Michael, yes. He’s catching an earlier flight. You should rest. You look tired.”
“I’m fine. I want to finish this cake so you don’t end up doing it alone.” She gestured to Dani and Baxter’s cake in the center of their workstation.
It was the most elaborate cake either of them had ever done. Right now, what would become each individual tier was a separate cake sitting on the counter, waiting to be coated in fondant then decorated. They would do a test stack here at the bakery before storing it in the walk-in cooler until the wedding day. Normally they would work on everything right up to the wedding day, but with the very real possibility of Amelia having the baby before that day arrived, they didn’t want to be caught short-handed and leave Leslie to finish up on her own.
“How much earlier is he coming in?” Amelia asked, rubbing her back with one hand and rolling out fondant with the other.
“Seriously, go sit down. I can do this. You won’t be any good to any of us, including the baby, if you wear yourself out before he gets here.” Leslie took the rolling pin from her friend’s hand and steered her toward the chair at the desk, then she pulled over a box for her to prop her feet up on. “Do not get up, do you hear me?”
“Bossy,” Amelia grumbled but did as she was told.
Leslie placed a bottled water within easy reach of Amelia, then she took over rolling out the icing for the ten-tier wedding cake. Each tier would be a slightly different shade of pink with complementing and contrasting colored flowers. It was a monumental task, but the publicity for the bakery could mean a huge difference for both Barefoot Brides, the destination wedding service at the resort, and for Dangerously Sweet.
“So how much earlier is he coming in? If he gets here before this guy”—Amelia pointed at her belly—“you can have the day off.”
“Oh God, I cannot take the day off for…” She struggled to find the words.
“You can take the day off for…” Amelia made an exaggerated pause to mock Leslie’s inability to say the words.
“No, I can’t. We have too much to do. Besides, surely that isn’t what he’s expecting. He’s coming to town to work. He’ll be busy doing bodyguard stuff and getting his guys up to speed and in place. He can’t take a whole day off either.”
“Maybe that’s why he’s coming early,” Amelia pointed out.
Leslie looked at her friend and learned, for the first time in her life, what the expression “butterflies in your stomach” truly meant. Only she suspected she had bats, or maybe some kind of large bird, in her stomach, not delicate little butterflies.
* * *
The airplane touched down, and Michael immediately unfastened his seat belt. The flight had been smooth but seemed to be flying in slow motion. His daily talks with Leslie had only made their relationship deeper. With the possibility of sex out of the picture, they’d gotten to know each other in ways they might have bypassed had they been together. He’d made arrangements to fly in a day ahead of the rest of his team so he had a full night to devote just to her. He intended to make good on his promise to make love to her until their bones turned to jelly.
Tomorrow, the wedding and its security would be his primary focus, but today, he had nothing to do but spend the evening with Leslie. He only hoped she could make it happen. He hadn’t given her much warning, just a quick text that he was coming early. He hadn’t been sure he could get away until the last minute and he thanked his lucky stars his miracle worker of an assistant had gotten him on a last minute flight. He hoped she’d gotten the message in his words. If she hadn’t, if she had to take care of the boys or had work obligations, then he’d have to wait. He would, but he really hoped that wasn’t the case.
He’d taken every step he could think of to make sure they would be alone, right down to making sure his room at the resort wasn’t in the hotel itself but in one of the private villas that were much more isolated. He’d have to move into the hotel after tonight—staying in the most remote villa wouldn’t be practical from a security standpoint—but he had it for tonight. He only hoped he had Leslie for tonight too.
He glanced toward the rear of the plane and noticed a woman he’d spotted in the airport in New York that morning. She had caught his attention because of how she was dressed, but also because when their eyes accidentally met, she hadn’t looked away. Most people would immediately glance away when they locked eyes with a stranger, but this woman had stared. She seemed vaguely familiar, which made him wonder if he’d seen her photo in a file.
He made a mental note to check his file of known problems for Dani and Baxter to
see if any of their quirky fans fit her description. More than likely it was a coincidence, but he didn’t leave things to chance. If there was any possibility that this woman was a danger to his client, then he wanted to know before she presented a threat.
Exiting the plane, he headed straight for baggage claim to pick up his suitcase and his gear. He always felt a little better once his Beretta was out of his checked luggage and tucked back in his holster under his jacket.
He kept an eye out for the strange woman everywhere he went because it definitely seemed like she was tailing him from a distance. Part of him wanted to chalk seeing her again up as coincidence, but years of experience had him reaching for his phone in the car to call his assistant back in New York to make sure his file of possible weirdos was completely up-to-date.
If there was a disgruntled employee or stalker-prone fan on the list that fit that description, he needed to know about it. He couldn’t get distracted by Leslie.
He’d come down here a day early for that reason as much as any other—he needed to get Leslie into bed and out of his system so he could get his head back on straight. He couldn’t go into this wedding weekend distracted. He owed it to his client, and the resort, and hell even to Leslie and her boss, to make sure the wedding went off without any security issues.
After a quick stop at the resort to check in and toss his luggage into the most secluded villa they offered, and slipping a housekeeper a handsome tip to have her light candles before he got back, he made his way to Leslie’s house. Parking on the street in front of the small bungalow-style house that was so typical in Florida, he sat still for a moment, collecting his thoughts. He had flown halfway across the country, and now here he sat, hesitating. He tried in vain to remember the last time he had waited this long to take a woman to bed, or the last time he’d cared this much about how a personal night went. He’d never waited, never seen any reason to. And while he always made sure the lady in his bed enjoyed herself before he did, he’d never felt this level of anticipation and expectation for a night of lovemaking.
He climbed out of the rented convertible and headed up the concrete path to her front door, feeling every bit like he had when picking up his prom date many years ago. Before he knocked, he listened and heard the sounds of her family moving around inside. Boys ran up the stairs, probably to get a bath before bedtime. Her mother called down the hall, and Leslie laughed in response. Their windows were open to catch the evening breeze, and hearing their evening routine as the curtains fluttered made him smile.
He knocked twice, and the house fell silent, which almost made him laugh out loud, but he didn’t want to spoil it. Obviously they’d been expecting him. He wondered if Leslie had been as anxious for him to get here as he had been.
The door opened and Connor stood there in pajama bottoms and nothing else. His hair was wet, and he held a toothbrush in his left hand.
Michael stooped to be on the boy’s level, rather than tower over him, before he spoke to him. “Hey, squirt, how are you tonight?”
“My name isn’t squirt,” he answered matter-of-factly. “But I’m in a hurry. Mama said you were coming and we gotta get to bed before you get here.” He looked confused for a moment. “But if you’re already here, maybe we don’t have to hurry no more?”
“Connor, you don’t have to tell Michael your life story.” Leslie appeared behind him and gently pushed him down the hall toward the bathroom. “Sorry about that.”
That she addressed to Michael, and he noticed a thoroughly charming pink tint to her cheeks, as though she was embarrassed by just thinking about why he was here. She wore white shorts and a pink top that highlighted the blush on her cheeks. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, the way he liked it best.
“I’m better now.” He glanced over her shoulder and saw that the coast was clear, so he leaned in for a quick kiss.
“Michael’s kissing Mama!” Lucas called out at the top of his lungs. Michael was pretty sure the neighbors had been able to hear him.
“Lucas! Be quiet!” Again to Michael, she said, “Sorry about that. They aren’t used to me having a man over.”
“I can tell, and that’s fine by me.”
He kept his hands to himself as they walked into the house. The kiss had probably been a bad idea, but he had been hoping it would quiet both of their nerves a bit. Inside the house, he found both boys running around in their pajamas, showing no sign of settling down.
“They’re not too excited about an early bedtime. I tried to convince them it would be fun, but they’re not buying it.” She threw up her hands in frustration.
* * *
None of this was going according to her plan. The boys were supposed to have been in bed and fast asleep before Michael got here. Her mother had agreed to watch them, not that it was any big deal for her to spend an evening at home. She spent most evenings watching reality TV and bemoaning the choices of the various contestants on her favorite shows. Instead, the boys had gotten more and more excited as the evening wore on, seeming to feed off her nerves, and now Michael was here and she wasn’t dressed, she felt frazzled and off balance, and he looked good enough to eat. She counted her lucky stars she’d had a few minutes to grab a quick shower after she got home from the bakery, otherwise she would still be covered in sticky sugar and food coloring.
Just when she was about to give up and tell Michael this wasn’t going to work, the most unbelievable thing happened.
“How about if I help?” he asked.
“Help?” She was confused for a moment before realizing he meant help get the boys to bed so their night together could still happen. “Help put them to bed?”
“Yeah, is that okay?” He seemed confused by her reaction. “We could tag team them.”
His smile melted her insides in the most delicious way imaginable. He wanted to help her get her boys to bed.
“I want Michael to put me to bed!” both boys called in unison, standing on the couch in their pajamas.
She smiled at Michael and put her hand on his arm. “Remember, that you asked for this.”
Over an hour later, the house was finally quiet, her mother was settled in front of the television, and the two of them stood alone on her front porch. The sun was setting, which cast the whole world in a purple tint that made everything seem a little more beautiful and a lot more romantic.
“So now you know what the average Wednesday night is like in my world,” she teased.
“Would it be strange if I said that was kind of fun?”
His grin was so genuine and sexy, it almost made her knees buckle. She laughed. “Definitely.”
“So…” He pulled her to him with an arm around her waist and a hand tilting her head back for a kiss. “Do you want to bring your own car to the resort or ride with me?”
His eyes were smoldering hot. She was blown away that he still wanted to spend the night together—this had not exactly been the romantic evening he’d had planned. Most men would run for the hills…she stopped that thought in its tracks. When was she going to realize that Michael Duncan was not most men? Meeting his gaze and tipping her face up for a kiss, she realized she was doing the one thing she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do—she was falling in love with him.
“If you don’t mind bringing me home in the morning, I’d love to ride with you.”
Seated in the front of his rented red convertible, she closed her eyes and let the wind blowing through her hair help her relax. She felt the warmth of Michael’s hand envelop hers, and she let her head rotate toward him as she smiled. She’d expected to feel nervous, but she felt more relaxed than she could remember.
Behind the wheel of the car, Michael kept his eyes on the road but held her hand firmly on his lap.
“You came back early,” she said to break the silence.
He glanced at her. His eyes, a shade darker, seemed to focus on her mouth and not her eyes. “I did.”
“How come?” She held her breath for the answer
. If he’d come back for work, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to hide her disappointment, but if he’d come back for her…well, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to hide that reaction either.
They reached the four-way with the Super Min on one side of the intersection. She saw Charity Grambling inside, staring out and watching passing traffic. The woman was a notorious busybody and gossip. Usually Leslie avoided her and tried to stay off her radar, but tonight she had an urge to wave and smile.
While they were stopped at the stop sign, Michael gave her his full attention. There were no other cars, so they could have kept moving, but he waited and watched her. Her heart beat so hard, she was afraid he could see it through her shirt.
“I couldn’t wait another minute to get back to you.” He said it simply, plainly. No games, no mystery.
He leaned over and kissed her softly, as simply as his words. That kiss showed her exactly how he was feeling.
And Charity saw the whole thing. Leslie had no doubt that by tomorrow, the whole island would know that the widow Manning had been making out in the middle of the street with some hot guy. The hot guy part would definitely be included, because Charity never missed an important detail like that. She’d probably even throw in how many inches his biceps would measure.
When Michael lifted his head, leaving her lips feeling warm and tingling, Leslie whispered, “I’m glad.”
With a grin, she leaned forward slightly and wiggled her fingers at Charity as he drove through the intersection.
“Who was that?” he asked with a smile.
“Charity Grambling is the resident gossip, and she takes her job very, very seriously. I figured if we were going to give her something to talk about, we might as well go big.” She laughed and realized she felt lighter, and happier, than she had in a long time.
“And what will Charity have to say about me kissing you in the middle of the street?”
