Stoplight Magic

by Jo Barrett

  As they talked about the usual things, favorite television shows, hobbies, friends, Eleanor felt the warmth that had started when she’d seen him at the foot of her hospital bed grow. There were so many things she liked about this man.

  “Well, here we are,” he said, pulling into his driveway and parking in front of a detached garage beside a small sedan.

  The house was a long brick ranch, with dark green trim and shutters. The yard was simple, but well maintained, and with several old oak trees for shade. There was a wide front porch that she suspected was added on at a later time, but it gave the front façade a homey look. It made her want to grab a glass of sweet tea and sit back in one of the rockers and watch the grass grow.

  “It’s very nice,” she said.

  He grinned. “Not what you expected of a bachelor biker, huh?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “I think I like this version better than what I had envisioned.” Bad boys were nice to fantasize about, but not exactly the kind of guy that made for good boyfriend material.

  He climbed out of the truck and hurried around to her side before she could get one foot out of the door. “Take my arm, and I’ll grab your bag.”

  She did as she was told, which was usually what she did, but this time she thoroughly enjoyed it. He slowly guided her up the walk, then up the stairs to the door.

  “I forgot to mention I have a housekeeper. That’s her car in the drive. She comes over a few times a week to clean and do my laundry. So you’re not stuck alone with me yet.”

  “I’m not worried about being alone with you. Not really.”

  He placed her bag on the porch and placed his hand over hers where she held onto his arm. “I’m glad, because the last thing I would ever want to do is frighten you. If I ever do or say anything that makes you uncomfortable, tell me.”

  She looked down at his hand and nodded. She’d never been any good at speaking up, not until this man had rode into her life. Telling Margaret to shut up had been the first time she’d ever spoken to her or anyone like that before.

  “Hey,” he said, slipping his finger beneath her chin, tilting her head up.

  Her gaze found his, and she felt a rush of warmth to her toes with the concerned look in his green eyes. He really cared about what she thought, and how she felt.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She tipped up on her toes and kissed him ever-so-softly on the cheek. “Thank you.” When she pulled back to see his face, she couldn’t help but smile, his grin was so contagious, and so very warm.

  “I, um, think we should go inside now, before I ask you to thank me again,” he said, with a chuckle.

  Dustin opened the door and guided Eleanor inside. Mrs. Klein was on her way down the hall with a duster in her hand.

  When he’d first pulled into the drive, he’d wished it wasn’t her day to clean, but after that innocent kiss on the porch, he changed his mind. His housekeeper was just the buffer he needed, because Eleanor’s lips had felt incredibly soft and warm against his cheek. It was all he could do to keep from tasting them.

  He knew it was too soon. She was shy and had been put through one ringer of a day. The last thing she needed was for him to push her into something physical before she was ready. But he hoped that day wasn’t too far off into the future.

  “Hello, Mrs. Klein.”

  “Dustin,” she said, her tone somewhat flat while her gray head tilted a bit to the side. She was obviously curious about his unexpected arrival and his company.

  “This is Eleanor Freemont.” Mrs. Klein nodded, while Eleanor muttered a soft hello. “Eleanor is going to be staying with me for a while. Could you make up the guest room for her?”

  His housekeeper’s dark penciled brows rose.

  As Eleanor edged a little closer to him, he noticed her trembling. The last thing she needed was to feel like Mrs. Klein would judge her for staying with him. He’d best make things clear to Mrs. Klein so that she would feel more comfortable. He couldn’t let her go back to that menagerie at her brother’s house. Not yet.

  “Um, you see, she was in a bad car accident this morning and needs a quiet place to recover. Her brother’s house was too busy, and well she just got out of the hospital, so, I, um, offered up my guest room.”

  “Hospital? Oh, my.” The older woman hurried across the foyer and took Eleanor by the arm. “You come in here right now and sit down, honey. Dustin, you take her bag back to the guestroom and get out the sheets. I’ll be in there in a minute and fix up her room after I get her settled.”

  He didn’t bother to argue. Mrs. Klein had been widowed young and never had any children of her own. And since his mother moved to Florida, she’d taken up the mantle of mother hen to him and half the guys in his shop. Now that he’d made the situation clear, he knew that Eleanor was just another surrogate child to add to her brood.

  “Now what can I get you, sweetie. I’ve got a fresh pitcher of tea all made up.”

  Eleanor glanced at Dustin and smiled. “That would be very nice, thank you.”

  While Mrs. Klein fussed over Eleanor, Dustin walked down the hall and put her bag on the old cedar trunk by the wall, then went in search of the sheets. He figured he may as well be the one to make up the bed, while his housekeeper chatted with Eleanor. It would make her feel more at home, safer in some way, and that was what was most important right now.

  His housekeeper would grill him later, no doubt, on his role in the happenings of the day, but keeping his guest happy and comfortable was a priority. Because if Eleanor left, he had the feeling he’d never get another chance, and he wanted that chance, more than he’d ever wanted anything before.

  Several minutes later, as he tucked in the last corner of the sheet, Mrs. Klein appeared beside him.

  “The poor thing is worn clean out,” she said. “She practically fell asleep with the glass to her lips.”

  “I knew I should’ve called ahead so you could have her bed ready, but it sort of happened all at once.”

  She patted his arm then straightened his sloppy corners. “She told me all about it.”

  He placed the bedspread back on the bed, and she moved to the opposite side to help him shift it into place.

  “What exactly did she say?”

  She tugged and smoothed the covers. “That you gave her a ride home, and that it was so noisy with her nephews running around at her brother’s house, what with them being on their summer vacation, that you offered her a place to stay.”

  “Uh, Mrs. Klein.” He rubbed the back of his neck, not quite sure how to explain it all.

  She straightened and looked at him, her eyes wide. “What didn’t she tell me?”

  He decided it would be best to be completely honest with her, or else he’d let something slip, or Eleanor would. “She saved my life this morning.”

  Her mouth fell open as she eased herself down to the edge of the bed.

  “You see, she and I had been, well, noticing one another for a few weeks on our way to work, and I finally managed to get her to agree to meet me for coffee this afternoon.

  Well, when we parted at the stoplight, there was a truck speeding toward the intersection. Eleanor saw him and decided to put herself, well her car, between me and the truck. She knew that I’d have little chance of survival from a head on collision, so she took the impact for me.”

  Mrs. Klein swallowed. “And you’re okay? You didn’t get hurt?”

  “No ma’am. I ditched the bike in the grassy median. I didn’t get more than a bruise.”

  She pinched her lips together and crossed to him. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him hard. He returned her hug and patted her back.

  With a faint sniffle, she released him and started toward the door. “You be good to that little girl in there,” she said, over her shoulder.

  He followed her out of the room. “I plan on it, and not because of what she did.”

  “I know that, sweetie. That was plain as day on your
face when you walked in the door. But she’ll need some time.”

  He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Chapter Four

  Eleanor awoke to the smell of something wonderful. It couldn’t be Margaret’s cooking. Everything she made smelled like burnt broccoli. She was a lousy cook, which is why Eleanor ended up doing most of it. So if it wasn’t Margaret cooking, then who?

  Slowly lifting her lids, she noticed the walls were not the walls of her bedroom. Then in a blink, it all came flooding back to her. The accident, Dustin, Mrs. Klein, but hadn’t she fallen asleep on the couch? She didn’t remember the living room looking like this.

  Easing up on to her elbows, she glanced around the room and realized that Dustin had gotten her to the guest room and put her to bed. She twisted her lips into half a scowl. She’d missed being carried by a handsome man for the first time in her life.

  “Oh well, maybe another time.” She made the mistake of shaking her head and let loose with a groan at the sharp slice of pain.

  She scooted out from under the blanket to the edge of the bed and waited for the room to stop spinning. It took more than a minute, but eventually her world came back into focus, and she was able to stand. She took a steadying breath and began her journey down the hall toward that delicious smell.

  Rounding the last corner, she was surprised to find Dustin in the kitchen, all alone, pulling what looked to be a large dish of lasagna from the oven. She had to blink a time or two to convince herself she wasn’t hallucinating. Oh, she knew men could cook, but she’d just never actually witnessed it before. Her brother couldn’t even boil water.

  “Did you make that?” she asked.

  Dustin spun around at the faint sound of voice. “Did I wake you?”

  “No, yes, I don’t know,” she said, with a smile. “I woke up to a wonderful aroma and had to get up and see what it was.”

  He grinned. “Good. Cause I was about to come and do just that, per your doctor’s instructions, and wake you. And yes, it’s lasagna, and yes I made it.” He pulled out two plates from the cabinet by the stove. “Hungry?”

  She shuffled over to the counter, her hair slightly disheveled, her tee shirt somewhat wrinkled, and her bright white socks poking out from beneath her lounge pants made for a rather enticing sight.

  She leaned over the dish and sniffed with a smile. “Starving.”

  “Good, then why don’t you go sit down and I’ll bring it out.”

  “I’ll help,” she said, moving to get a couple of napkins from the holder by the cutting board.

  He gently clasped her by the shoulders and guided her out of the kitchen and into the dining room. She was a bit too enticing in such close quarters, and she was recovering. He needed to keep his libido in check.

  “You need to sit down and let me wait on you,” he said.

  “But I feel fine,” she said.

  He pulled out a chair and placed her in it, then leaned down as close as he dared to look her in the eye. “You are recovering.”

  He tapped the end of her nose when she made an adorable scrunched up face, then said, “You are also my guest. Think of it as our first date.”

  She smiled and gave him a nod, which sent him back into the kitchen to get their meal. It was that or kiss her.

  They ate together, laughed together, and talked for well over two hours. It was a wonderful first date, but Eleanor was worn out and looked like she might actually fall asleep sitting up.

  “Come on,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. “Time for bed.”

  He could tell by the flash of concern on her face that she thought he meant both of them together, but the look disappeared as quickly as it came. To make sure she understood how serious he was about keeping his distance, he guided her down the hall like a piece of fragile glass, straight toward her room.

  “Do you need any help or anything?” he asked, stopping before her door.

  “No, I’ll be fine, but thank you.” She rose up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek again.

  “Good night, Eleanor.”

  “Good night.” With a smile, she slipped into the room.

  Dustin let out a long slow breath as he rested his forehead against the closed door. He’d wanted to kiss her so badly but knew it was too soon.

  A grin slid over his lips. “But she kissed me,” he whispered. Although it was just a peck, soft and sweet, it was warm and lingered on his cheek.

  He went back to the kitchen and cleaned up the mess he made. Lasagna was the only thing he could cook well. Of course there was grilling, but that wasn’t cooking. He’d been determined to impress her, and it seemed to have paid off.

  His brow furrowed as he wrapped what was left and put it in the fridge. She liked him, and not just for the little bit of cooking, but would she keep liking him as they grew to know each other better?

  He shook his head and finished up. None of that mattered. She was here, she was healing, and they’d had a great first date—although how it had come about still sent a shiver down his spine.

  ****

  The following morning, he woke to find her in the kitchen fixing breakfast.

  “What are you doing up?” He took the spatula from her hand and steered her to a chair. “You shouldn’t be doing so much. You’re here to get better, remember?”

  She didn’t sit down but clasped him by the hand. “Dustin, you’re very sweet, but please quit mothering me.”

  “But—”

  “I won’t overdo it. I know my limits, but I also won’t sit still and do nothing.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m no better than your brother, telling you what to do. I just can’t get that image of you hurt with blood on your face, sitting in what was left of your car, out of my head.”

  Her soft smile disappeared, and she released his hand as she shifted her gaze away. “It’s all right. I understand.”

  Something just changed, and not in his favor. At first, he was going to let it alone, but he knew if he didn’t pursue it now, he’d be thinking about it all day and not get a lick of work done at the shop.

  He clasped her arms and bent down to look into her eyes. “What are you thinking?”

  She shook her head and gave him half a smile.

  “No, you’ve got something on your mind. Something I said, or did is bothering you, and I want to know what it is.”

  “Oh no, Dustin, you’ve been wonderful. There isn’t anything, really.”

  He grinned with a shake of his head. “No wonder your brother has been able to run your life. You’re a terrible liar.”

  Her chin tilted up a bit, and he smiled at her small show of irritation.

  “Come on, Eleanor. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  She pulled away and sank into the chair beside the small kitchen table, then began fidgeting with the edge of yesterday’s newspaper. “It’s not anything important,” she said, her voice low.

  He sat down beside her and laid his hand atop hers, stilling it. “Then tell me what it is. Please. I want to start this relationship with everything out in the open.”

  She looked at him, her brows furrowed. “Relationship?”

  He chuckled and said, “Well, sure. I thought that’s what we were doing. Spending time together, learning about each other.” He shrugged. “You know, getting involved.”

  “You mean you’re not just—you’re not just being nice because of what I did?”

  He began to understand some of what was going on in her head. She thought he was just being grateful, being a friend. Although he was both of those things, he wanted a lot more with her.

  “If you recall, I asked you out on a date. A guy doesn’t do that if he’s just wanting to be friends. I want to see where this thing between us can go.”

  Her lips spread into a tentative smile. “You do?”

  Slipping his hand to back of her neck, he gently tugged her forward.

  “I do,” he sa
id, and brushed his lips over hers.

  A cautious kiss, but a kiss just the same. He had to start somewhere, and figured small kisses would be best. They really didn’t know each other, although he sensed an unusually strong connection to her. The last thing he wanted to do was drive her away by moving too fast on what was already a wild ride as far as dating went.

  A faint moan slipped from her lips as he stroked them with the tip of his tongue. When she opened, he couldn’t hold back. Gliding between her lips, he tasted her, relishing the feel, the texture, and the sense of rightness in the kiss. Knowing it wouldn’t be long before he scooped her up and took her back to bed, he forced himself to end it. That would definitely be too fast.

  With panting breaths, he lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “Does that explain how I feel about you?”

  Her eyes bright, her smile wide, she nodded then leaned in for another kiss. Something he had no problem agreeing to. And what a kiss!

  The sound of the front door opening didn’t register until Mrs. Klein called out. “Knock, knock!”

  “What rotten timing,” he muttered, ending what had to be one of the hottest kisses of his life.

  Eleanor giggled as she jumped out of her chair and went back to the stove, making herself look busy. Then again, something did smell pretty good.

  She grabbed an oven mitt and bent to pull a sheet from the oven, and he stifled a groan at the image of her lounge pants pulled tight across her ass.

  Perhaps it was a good thing Mrs. Klein showed up when she did. He may have told himself to go slow, but that didn’t mean he would succeed.

  And yet, although he’d started with a simple kiss, she had been the one to turn it into something just this side of scorching, he thought with a grin.

  “My goodness, something smells wonderful. But you really should be resting, sweetie,” Mrs. Klein said, coming around the corner, into the kitchen.

  “Thank you, but I feel fine. I’ll rest later. Right now I want to get some breakfast on the table so Dustin can get to work,” Eleanor said. She shot him a grin as she placed piping hot biscuits onto a plate on the table.

  She had a point. He should go to work. It would help him keep his hands off of her, where they shouldn’t be—yet. And he should see how things went yesterday at the shop without him.